#it’ll be a tangible thing that I did all on my own

[lyriumsings]

proing and conning making an IF and it’s like

pros: it’s content that caters to my interests that i wanna see, i can find other people who also like those things, as a long term goal it would be good for me to consistently work on a project im passionate about, i just want more friends 🥹

cons: most of my ros will probably be bipoc and therefore they will probably be: whitewashed, villainized, overly sexualized no matter the context etc, the IF community can be entitled, ngl it can also just be super white

the biggest pro: IM delusional and believe i’m never wrong esp when it comes to my opinions on my characters and world building so good luck to anyone who tries to make me feel anything other than that in terms of baseless accusations/demands

almost forgot the biggest con: coding lmaooo

[ooihcnoiwlerh]

About the "send me a ship and one of these and i'll write a mini fic" you reblogged 🤭

I was thinking about the "things you didn't say at all" one (I think it was prompt 5) and about your Feyd x Reader fic 🤭 the latest chapter and it's first segment, Feyd being subby...

How about a small Feyd POV, things he didn't say but thought during this scene?? ♥️

Absolutely no pressure, I just saw the reblog and my mind went wandering hehe 🤭

*Breaks fingers* Let's do this!

TAGS/CW: Subspace!Feyd; sub!Feyd; dom!Reader; first time topping; mentions of switching; riding; service bottom Feyd; overstimulation, masochism; knifeplay; nipple play; multiple orgasms, creampie, oral sex (M+receiving); body worship; come eating; mentions of past self-harm; mentions of past dubcon, mentions of past noncon/CSA; mentions/fantasies about smothering kinks; references to Feyd's prescience; Feyd and the Reader matching each other's freak

ADULTS ONLY/UNDER 18 DNI

Link to AO3 fic here:

Link to previous chapter on tumblr here

Thank you so much @peggyao3! I hope you enjoy it!

Y/N leans down and kisses him, slow and languid.  I want to keep you inside of me until you get hard again, and then I want to ride you again until I can’t anymore, she’d told him with utmost confidence as she sat astride him, and it won’t take long to make that first part happen.  He’s been transfixed since she pressed his own dagger against his chest, since the crack of her palm against his cheek.

Oh, had been his only thought, the heat flooding to his dick during his struggle growing stronger, still covered at the time as it pressed against the apex of her thighs.  He’d never gotten such a good view of her naked on top of him as he did when she sat, stunned, furious, and a fucking glorious vision of a woman.  

Go on, he’d told her.  Take your reward, and she had.  It didn’t quite surprise him that she’d been aroused by the time she’d gotten his pants off–he’d felt her damp heat through the fabric of them, and she sank with slick ease onto him as she’d started at first holding his own blade against his collarbone, as if he wasn’t exactly where he’d wanted to be. 

You wanna ride me? he’d asked as she’d gasped and shuddered, moving on him.

Is that what this is called? she’d asked, delighted and triumphant, and it had made him smile.

It didn’t surprise him that she’d take to riding him like it was what she was made to do, that she drove them both about out of their mind like this.  Didn’t surprise him, except that he still hadn’t felt fully prepared for how quickly and easily he sunk into the feeling of not only being used but loving every moment of it.  It’d been a long time since that had happened.

She’d come twice on top of him, exhilarated from their scuffle and from the power he was giving her–even as he’d felt himself slipping, stunned at how she’d fucked him and touched him and looked so unbearably beautiful doing it, he could see how thrilled she was at the power she had over him.

She holds it now, still straddling his hips.  It feels like something tangible that settles between them in the combination of ease and excitement building in his chest as they kiss, waiting for him to stiffen inside of her again, content to caress her sides, her thighs, her hair, but aching to feel her moving on top of him again.  It’ll happen; he’ll give her whatever she wants.  He gives a soft sigh as she trails her mouth just below his ear, along the junction of his jaw and neck, and waits as she pauses, seeming to consider something.

He realizes what she’s about to do a second before she does it–takes the knife he’d had pressed against her throat not twenty minutes ago and makes a slow, shallow cut above his heart.  He gasps at the sting, thinking, Oh yeah, that’ll do it, cock twitching and fully coming back to life as she laps up the beads of blood that well up, as she dips her head lower to scrape her teeth against his nipple.  He hadn't allowed her access there before tonight, not so much because it was forbidden but nearly every time he’s been inside of her he’s taken her from behind or been just above her, where she didn’t have such easy access to him.  He’s been so impatient to taste and touch and tease her that other than the times he’s guided his cock as far into her mouth as she can handle he just hasn't afforded her the same chance.

She takes it now, and he gives it freely, fascinated by her own fascination with him.  She’s never been fucked by anyone else, that much he’d learned on their wedding night.  Probably never even had another person touch her nipples or play with her clit except for herself.

Feyd’s train of thought is cut short as Y/N then sits up, her fingers collecting the thin trail of blood as she briefly rests her hands on Feyd’s chest, only to bring those same fingertips to her lips and lap them clean.  A smear of blood remains on her lips as she breaks out into a slow smile, rocking her hips, readjusting to the movement and the angle, before she gives a small, stunned laugh.  She’s captivating, the way she seems to revel in a new way to take him inside of her.

The last time anyone got him in this position…

He doesn’t want to think about it; how through that box of pain the Gesserit whore had reduced him to a trembling mess so aroused he was leaking precome through his robes, how her voice had invaded the deepest recesses of his mind, how she’s pushed him onto his back as soon as he withdrew his hand and perfunctorily pulled her skirts up, pulled his cock out, and sat on him with a grimace.

He doesn’t want to remember how he’d thought, helpless and trapped in a way he hadn’t felt in years, that she reminded him how his body didn’t truly belong to him, that it was only ever on loan, to be used by whoever needed him.  He thought he’d kill her if he ever saw her again, watching her wince as he came inside of her despite himself  and she got up, leaving him wrung out and burning with shame.

He doesn't want to think about it, and tonight it's easy to forget, because his wife’s riding him with shameless, unabashed enthusiasm as if there's nowhere else she'd be, and she's not taking anything that Feyd’s not happy to give her in spades.  She can do whatever the fuck she wants with him.

“I–oh, fuck!--I could ride your fat cock all night.  Would you like that, Feyd?” she asks.

I’d love it.  I want to watch you come undone around me all night, he thinks, unable to manage more than a groan.  He watches, rapt, painfully aroused, as her pert, pretty tits bounce along with her movements, dazedly realizing what a good idea it is for her to move his hands from her hips to her breasts.  He'd mourn not being able to see them as clearly but that he enjoys touching them even more.  He doesn't think about it, just fondles them how they both like it.

He stares, enraptured, as she comes undone around him, his hands still fondling her, her own hands braced behind her on his sweaty thighs.  His cock pulses and he wants to follow her but also doesn’t want it to be so soon, especially since even as she shudders and clenches around him, her moans high and desperate, the part of him still capable of thought knows that she’s not truly finished with him yet.  

I’ll be good.  I’ll hold on, he thinks as she continues to rock her hips, barely catching her breath and riding her out of stubbornness to see her exhaustion through.  He’s so fucking impressed with her.

“Don't come yet,” she commands him, voice thick.  “Not until I come again.”

He groans.  Couldn’t have picked a better woman to subjugate me if I tried, he thinks, every muscle clenching, back arching, trying to breathe normally, while he’s increasingly unraveled.  Most of the past month he’s been married to her he’s felt half-out of his mind with desire every time they were alone together, but not quite like this.  Not quite so excited to see how she can own him.

“If you want to come, then make yourself useful, Feyd,” Y/N adds, her lust and confidence a heady cocktail that set his nerves ablaze.

Yes, ma’am, he thinks immediately, spitting on his thumb and bringing it to her swollen clit.  She must be aching.  Going on four now; he realizes.  He hasn’t gotten her that far before.  Remnants of his spend leak out of where he’s buried inside of her, and still liquid from the heat between them.  

And then clever, wicked Y/N smirks, moves her hands back to his chest, and pinches cruelly.  He’d love to know if she’s still smirking when he cries out and bucks his hips, nearly spilling inside of her, but he shuts his eyes when he does it.  She’s not merciful, and he’s all the more delighted for it.

“Look at me, Feyd,” he hears Y/N say and his eyes snap open as he reminds himself that he has a job to do, although he supposes it can’t quite be a job if he’s enjoying it so much.  She’s so beautiful like this, natural in an element she might never have pictured inhabiting.  He works her clit faster, presses down a little harder, shifts his thighs slightly to make his hips the right bridge to rock onto, and then she comes hard.  It’s not the breathless moans and whimpers when he’s fucking her from behind; it’s a guttural cry from within Y/N’s chest that’s the sound of a woman who’s taken everything she’s wanted and she trembles, clenching around him so hard Feyd abandons his post rubbing her clit to grab onto her hips.  

So will you let me come with you? he wants to ask, in awe of her and unsure what look  she’s seeing on his face if she sees anything.  She’s not drunk, he knows, but there’s a glazed-over look in her eyes as she stares open-mouthed down at him when he tries to center himself.  The moment she gives her permission he can’t help it; he relishes her overwrought moans as he bucks up into her, fucking her from below, squeezing the supple flesh of her hips and ass as he comes so hard he sees stars–stars that don’t even fucking exist on this planet.

There’s a moment before he can really soften but while he’s too sensitive to keep moving, he realizes that she might still be able to ride him again.  He’ll get hard again if she wants him to, if she gives him enough time.  He’ll gladly let her use his mouth to grind on until then to get her over five, six, seven times.  She’d take to it just as well, holding his head in place as she rides his face with enough fervor that he’d just barely be able to breathe, head swimming all the more for the taste of her, of the two of them mixed together and her shaking thighs bracketing his face.  Dazed, he thinks about how there would be worse ways to go out than with his face buried in her cunt.

Next time he’ll let her collar him, use a chain to guide his face between her legs.  He’ll gladly kneel for her, he thinks as he closes his eyes and pictures it, her leading him on a leash to a place he already loves visiting.  

“Hey,” he hears, voice gentler this time, like he’s underwater and her voice is just above the surface.  “Look at me.”

He does.  She’s smiling down at him, her expression fond rather than mischievous or aroused or deliciously cruel.  She strokes his face and he can’t help but tilt his face into it.  His heartbeat is slowing down, his cock has softened again, but he’ll bring it back to rise, if she tells him to.

But she doesn’t.  She slides off of him, letting him slip out of her, and leans down to ghost her lips over his neck, scrape them over his teeth, and a part of him, spent but eager, realizes that this touch and exploration isn’t really for him; it’s for her.  He brings his hands to the sheets below him before she can ask.

“Yes, that’s good,” she assures him before going lower, licking and nipping at the muscles in his abdomen that clench and flutter at the contact.  “Keep them there.”

Take whatever you want, Y/N.  Everything I have, everything I am is yours, he thinks as she licks his spent cock, as she drags her tongue lower for the first time, exploring his body still as if he’s something beautiful and fascinating.

He pants and moans, hips twitching, cock not quite getting hard again, not yet, but that doesn’t appear to be what Y/N is even after.  She just seems to want to touch and taste him, seems to enjoy it just as much as she enjoyed using him as a human dildo, not that he expects her to know what that is.

Is this what you like,Y/N? he wants to ask.  Is getting me soaked and licking me clean something that makes you feel good?  He groans and spreads his legs a little more.  He feels dazed.  

She asks him about his scars.  Clever girl deduced that they were done on separate occasions.  When he tells her how he got them, she nuzzles and licks at them.  He'd almost forgotten how sensitive his inner thighs are.  It's been a long time since anyone's touched them.  Racking his brain, he’s hard-pressed to think if he's ever allowed himself to be laid out and thoroughly enjoyed like this.  And she does enjoy this, he thinks, wanting to laugh.  She nips and bites at them once she knows they come from a place of desire.  A part of him, a part he quietly shelves away for later, can appreciate that she knows to tread lightly with his scars, even when he’s spent and malleable like this; she knows how the ones on his back got there.  He doesn’t say it, doesn’t press the issue, wondering what she has planned next, when she comes back up, face to face, and kisses him slowly.  Tenderly.  It’s warm, affectionate, but without the same heat as before.

She’s done with him tonight, it seems.  Or at least, she’s done playing with him, as she sets the knife on her nightstand and finesses getting them under the covers. When he’d ambushed her with a surprise drill the sheets and blankets had been kicked down to their ankles.  

Her reflexes are good; she thinks quickly; she’s adaptable.  And deceptively powerful, he thinks, imagining the possibilities of how much further they can keep going.  He could show her how to put a cockring on him and use him for even longer.  He will.

But apparently not tonight, as she turns onto her back and he turns to lay on her, first nestling the side of his face against the space between her breasts and then lower, to rest his head against the soft skin of her belly.  It'll probably be around three months from now that she starts showing.  

“Is this what you need, husband?” Y/N asks, stroking his back.  He deflates, finally grounded.  He nods.  He exhales hard.  He can hear the small smile in Y/N’s voice as she continues stroking his shoulders and the back of his neck while saying, “In a couple of days we’ll find out if life is growing in there.”

Feyd doesn’t think about it before he says, “There is.  A boy.”

Y/N laughs above him, but Feyd doesn’t mind.  It’s not like she’d know, not like he’s told her, and so he does, in not so many words as he’d normally manage if he didn’t feel drained.  “I saw him.  Dreamt about you giving birth to him,” he tells her.

Maybe at some point he’ll tell her about how the second night they were married, he’d dreamt about her in labor, pushing out a healthy baby boy, flushed and screaming so loud he practically vibrated.  Feyd dreamt about her, exhausted and hairline damp with sweat but a smile on her face as she nursed their son for the first time. 

Maybe at some point he’ll tell her how he’d dreamt about her a few times before they’d ever met.

Between when the Gesserit witch took his seed and when that coven told him their marriage plans of him, he’d dreamt of a young woman who whimpered and moaned as he lapped at her slick cunt, who’d cry out and wrap her legs around his waist when he was inside of her.  There was never a clear picture, just flashes that would wake him up stiff and close to rutting against his bed, but they all made sense when he saw his bride-to-be, with a face he’d never seen in person nor in pictures but knew, even as he was far from really knowing her.

He can’t confirm it, won’t be able to confirm it for another couple of days when the Bene Gesserit witches arrive, but he knows, as certain as his own pulse, that their son is already growing inside of her.

That feels really nice, he doesn’t say.  You smell good, he also doesn’t say.  I want to have you and treasure you and break you and make you whole again and have you do the same to me, he doesn’t say.

He can’t help the enormity of what he’s feeling. He’s still only just getting to know the shape of her soul, and he wants more. 

[flownwrong]

chaotic ckr c6d squee propaganda (?) post

This, started half a year ago for @ds30below, was initially a general c6d short reviews post but kinda skewed majorly towards CKR's repertoire and wasn't too review-y. So I gave up on making sense and on including the non-CKR works. I don't know who the audience for this is, because I never give basic details for people who don't know about this stuff but say too much for those who do. I giffed what I could and tried to avoid what I know a lot about but haven't actually seen. Here goes.

Frank's Cock (1993)

Not much to say. It's only 8 minutes, it's beautiful and you should see it if you haven't. I won't spoil the subject, but you can likely guess. Watch it, cry a little. Then go watch some more of Mike Hoolboom's stuff, the vimeo link above is from his channel.

Two X-Files episodes (1994 – 1995)

Well, I haven't actually seen X-files since I was about fifteen and watched the like two seasons, and I remember none of it. I rewatched the two early episodes CKR appears in and they were fun. I did not watch the, the movie or whatever where he's doing the evil gay thing. But really, this one is on the list so I can show you this self-indulgent gif of him being Very Long:

Double Happiness (1994)

You shouldn't watch this one for CKR. I mean, you absolutely should see him here, looking like he's barely out of his teens and playing up the insecure act and having devastating chemistry with devastatingly beautiful Sandra Oh, but this is not why it's great. And it's really, really great. It's touching and funny and sincere. If you wanna have some feels about complicated family relationships and identity and growing up (at any point in life), you'll find them here.

Curtis's Charm (1995)

Don't regret watching it, can't recommend. Not gonna lie, I was emotionally affected. But I usually am by things as in-your-face bleak as this. Mostly, it's trying very hard to be smarter than it is, I think.

However: CKR's One Wild Curl is everything to me (see above, on the right. It was, like, actually curly. I was rendered speechless). And like two seconds of Hugh Dillon made me do a double-take, lol. Incredibly weird knowing this was shot like half a year before HCL began shooting. Feels like it must've been a decade earlier.

Hard Core Logo (1996)

I could make three separate posts about this one, so of course I have no idea what to say.

This one, you should watch for CKR, actually, he's something, but so is every single other aspect of this film. I wouldn't change a thing about it. It hits you like a 16 wheeler. Perfectly cast, unimaginably beautiful, hysterical and melancholy and disgusting and compelling.

Related recs:

A wonderfully fun article/retrospective/interview for its 20th anniversary a while back.

You should also absolutely read Hard Core Roadshow if you enjoyed the film. It's a book documenting the whole thing from conception to release. It touched me for its own sake, not just a backstage glance, full of love for the craft and the people and carrying this tangible bittersweetness about the heightened and fleeting nature of this kind of work.

(here, I feel compelled to include a quote from another c6d-related interview on Slings & Arrows, which I read after the book and went like man, it's really a universal experience isn't it.

Coyne: <...> But I also think, and this is my experience, what we were all experiencing, because we were all talking about our lives, our life in the arts — there’s something very melancholy about doing something you love, because it will never be good enough, it will always break your heart.

McKinney: Or it will be fleeting.

Coyne: It’ll be fleeting. You come together with people you feel passionately connected to and two weeks later they’re tearing down the sets.)

Quotes from the article and the book respectively include:

McDonald: So there was a kind of mutual dependency society with Hugh telling Callum, “Don’t worry, man, I got your back, I’ll tell you how high or low to wear your guitar, I’ll tell you how you should dress, I’ll tell you what you should drink…” and Callum was like, “I’ll tell you what hitting your mark is, I’ll tell you why they pull out fucking tape measures, I’ll tell you why you have to do it again, I’ll tell you about not overlapping dialogue..” and you know they clung to each other, like the other one was gonna fucking save them.

And:

A final gathering at the back of the tour bus with Bruce, Callum, Hugh, Bernie. We listen to the tape of HCL songs, all the way through, one last time. And we belt the words out. Bernie sings loudest, performing for Salerno's camera. Hugh and Callum sit back, looks of sadness. I get the sense that if they could do it, they'd chuck their lives and be Joe Dick and Billy Tallent forever. Callum leans to Bruce and says exactly what everyone else is thinking: "I don't want it to end."

There's much more to both texts than *gestures* the whatever those two had, but it certainly doesn't hurt.

And Xeriscape is the best HCL fic I've read. Granted, I read very few because it's not a source that creates in me a craving for fic. But this one perfectly matches the film's fucked up beauty with its language while also adding a quieter, more fraught layer of humanity that we only get glimpses of in canon and that perfectly fits John. 10/10, would recommend.

Anyway. Watch it. Read it. If you haven't. Otherwise, come scream with meeee! And go reblog my gifs or something. Idk.

Letters From Home (1996)

Mike Hoolboom strikes again, with another short. This goes into the "don't watch it for CKR, watch it because it's great" box. Yes, you will cry.

For Those Who Hunt The Wounded Down (1996)

Another bleak one! It sucked to watch, I mean, on purpose. There were a couple of very effective scenes. I really enjoyed the opening. They say the book is decent too, I haven't checked that out.

Actually, let's just switch back from coherent thought to undignified staring at his mouth with this one. What the fuck is that cigarette thing. I couldn't help myself.

Last Night (1998)

These gifs are not representative of the whole movie. There is more happening than CKR kissing or hugging people. He's also doing more than just kissing and hugging. It's all very... impressive.

Guess who's also here again? Sandra Oh! And say hi to Don McKellar, who is an absolute champion for writing/directing/starring. You'll be seeing more of him.

Another one for the "watch it for its own sake" box. Seriously, that late 90s indie stuff is banger after banger. It's so beautiful! Look at those colours! Look at those shots! It's very uneasy and charming and melanchioly and itself in the best way.

Twitch City (1998 – 2000)

Don McKellar is back to murder you with discomfort! Bruce McDonald lends a hand. Molly Parker is also here. And Daniel McIvor, who'd go on to direct, for example, Wilby Wonderful. It's a party. If you watched some stuff from above (or below) on this list, most faces and names will be familiar to you, tbh (another Hugh Dillon double-take happens).

If you liked Spaced, you'll love this. You might also love it because it commits to its weirdness with an admirable resolve and is genuinely hilarious. (Honestly, CKR's outfits alone warrant a watch.) The idiosyncrasy is definitely Don McKellar's doing 200%. It couldn't be more different from Last Night, but if you've seen one, you'll recognise the other.

Battlestar Galactica (2003 – 2009)

I don't think a person should be allowed to look this pretty in the sweaty-and-dying makeup in that light (this sentence probably looks very weird to those not under the CKR magic spell).

I don't know what to say about BSG because I really, really enjoyed early it initially, but by the middle of S2 it got... well, whatever that was. If you know you know, if you don't, still give it a go. You might get invested enough to suffer through it all, as I have been, slowly.

The unfortunate thing is that CKR got to be there mostly in the "what the fuck" years and not the "wow that's so cool" years. That, as you might be aware, is a pattern with him. But! When he was here, he was so genuinely, wonderfully creepy not in the typecast-baddy way, but in this slow, half-absent way, which really worked. You can also see him tortured a little, as a treat!! <3

Also, a wild John Pyper-Ferguson appears! If you're looking at him thinking you know him from somewhere but not immediately remembering, you'll figure it out, I believe in you. I was very happy to see him.

Wilby Wonderful (2004)

Another win for the put CKR in more good shit team!!! Guess who's here again? Sandra Oh! Also, Paul Gross. Don't watch it for him either though haha.

Another one for whoever wants to look at pushing against the weight of others' (or your own) expectations and growing into who you are or reconsidering who you are or finding meaningful connections with others even when you're kind of a mess and they are too.

Not nearly the first time CKR's gotten to play a queer character, but man, this one really is the heart of the in-universe community, and, through that, of the film. A rare chance to see him so far out of the prickly persona! He's just so solid and calm and there for others in this one and, and soft, ough. It's awesome.

By the way, if any of you have the commentary track or know someone who has, please drop me a line here or on discord (emotionalrisotto), I really wanna hear that.

Supernatural (2005)

I love Supernatural a lot. It was a formative experiences (albeit a very late one) and I owe a lot of my favourite stuff about fandom-ing to the buddies I met through it. I can't believe I'm telling you this (because who hasn't seen it, not because I'm reccing it), but you should really try it if you haven't. It's pretty rad.

I had no idea who this guy was when I saw that episode (the second ever one!), though. I simply cannot fathom what @nigeltde-fic felt when she first saw it. I think I personally got very lucky she didn't combust on the spot. It would've been unfortunate.

On a sillier note, CKR's character has weird tension with both Sam and Dean in this episode, which is par for the course. I personally think they should've... no, I shan't say it. You can probably imagine.

Californication (2008 – 2013)

I haven't actually seen it, lol (and I suspect I won't enjoy it, but I'm very curious and also CKR looks really really good).

The real reason for this one on the list is to share a fic rec. Really, it's a due South F/K fic featuring Lew Ashby. It's ridiculously hot and very satisfying in its romantic resolution, too (but then, I'm kind of big on selfcest. And consensual voyeurism. And pretend relationships when done like this. And sublimated yearning. Erm.)

Shattered (2010 – 2011)

I wish this never happened. I badly, badly wish this never happened. I can't turn back time, but I can warn those luckier than me: do not go there. Yes, even for this dude. You'll sleep better not knowing just what it is he was the EP on. And the only important part — the mascara — can be seen above (yes, the show does look that bad, it's not just the gifs).

Just kidding — I watched it, didn't I? You'll have fun hating it! Just prepare for industrial grade cringe, lower your expectations (No, lower. No, still lower than that. And just a bit more.) and you'll have a great time!

Star trek: Discovery (2024)

Or, as I call it, Star Trek: The Mediocre Show. Discovery S5 was... what it was, but it was a wonderful viewing experience — mostly thanks to the gang (@kittkatk and @feroxargentea especially!)

What a joy it is, to follow a show week by week, yelling and laughing and discussing the whole time. And giffing, too. I was very happy to contribute to the Disco fandom from my own little obsessive corner, and I was glad to see people adoring Rayner, haha.

He's a pretty neat character — very much a stereotype, yes, but with CKR's usual twist of odd vulnerability and weirdness. Also, I loved the ears. I miss the ears. The ears were great.

I even wrote a fic! Although it's not within my usual range to write for canons and universes I don't know well — and back then, I'd only seen S5 of Disco. It was a lot of suffering, and a lot of fun.

Closing thoughts

I'd really love the dude to get a better agent. And possibly better taste, but I realise that's a tougher ask. Seriously, it's been too long since he was in something majorly cool. I'm grateful to him, at least, for not making terrible music on the side. And I still have a lot of his back catalogue to get through, some of it even good, so there will be more insanity. Until then!

[therethatstar]

pondphuwin au in which phuwin has a lot of feelings for pond , doesn’t know how to deal with them and kind of goes about it in all the wrong ways.

this is also my attempt to write a cute little pondphuwin au and instead it’s a big mess of angst and like …. how did we get here. who knows.

here is an unedited snippet and there are more that i will officially post on ao3…. whenever it’s ready lol

—

The first time Phuwin met Pond, he felt his breath knocked out of his chest, a little starstruck, a little bit like he was tipping over into an inevitable void, a little bit like the stars and the universe came crashing down. Perhaps, it wasn’t as dramatic but it had felt like it. Like he was made of a night sky and someone had reached out and plucked the star right out of his chest, leaving a trail of something so indestructible, staining his body of flesh with its permanent residue.

And the first time Pond smiled at Phuwin, something within Phuwin had become irreversible, like his soul has been anchored from the chaos of the universe, and if someone were to follow the string of his heart to its counterpoint, it’ll land right where the muscle is beating, vibrating, resonating in Pond’s chest. Pond and the way he was gleaming at Phuwin with thousand beacons of light as if he had stolen all of the stars in the constellation until he had them glittering in his eyes.

And the first time he held Pond’s hand, he just remembered the way it had kept aching, the way it had craved to reach and reach just to feel Pond’s burning skin against his own again. And again. As if there was an equation that had made sense to him from the very beginning, something that he had formulated in his head, the way he got two hands, four if he added them up with Pond’s, one to hold onto each other and the other to hold on for the ride. And it has always been like this, in every single momentous moment of his life, there was always Pond’s hand that had held onto him along each step, hand that had kept him grounded since the moment this all started.

And it’s always been like this. Pond and Phuwin. Phuwin and Pond. Two peas in a pod of some sort. Two souls that are so tangible, like even the universe wouldn’t be able to tell where one begins and the other one ends.

And things have always been like this. Just the two of them. Until it isn’t anymore. Until they have grown older. Until they meet other people. And humans are humans and greed is a part of the human’s nature, something that stitched deep in our instinctive behaviors, genetically hard-wired since birth. And Phuwin is made of many things. Perhaps, greed is one of them.

—

The city light flickering outside of their hotel window as they wash a colorful glow on Pond’s cheekbones, softening the sharp edge into something smoother, like tender loving. The light was always such a gentle embrace against Pond, and Phuwin can’t help but to be envious towards something inanimate. Pond looks impossibly more delicate like this, and Phuwin tries to keep his constant staring at its bare minimum. Keep himself from drowning in his own thoughts.

“You’re okay?” Pond asks him from where he’s lying on the bed, beside him. “You look like you’re thinking up a storm.”

Phuwin wants to laugh at the irony of that statement. Because it has always been Pond who is always thinking up a storm in his head, making up every possible scenario that might never even happen. Maybe certain habits of Pond’s are rubbing off on him, Phuwin supposes it’s very likely considering the amount of time they have been spending together.

He keeps thinking back to the conversation he has overheard earlier, something about Pond being seen with another girl from the company. Phunwin had seen the photos floating around on twitter, had felt the itch to ask Pond but it felt too intriguing. Like he’s stepping over some kind of boundaries that he’s not supposed to. Like there are things that Pond and him talk about and there are things that are off limits. And this feels like it’s one of the latter.

So instead, Phuwin just says, “nothing. Just nervous for the fanmeet tomorrow, I guess.”

Pond laughs, “that’s unlike you. You don’t get nervous.”

“Of course I do,” Phuwin frowns, tone a little more harsh than he had intended, “I just don’t show it. Doesn’t mean I don’t get nervous. ”

“You don’t really show anything.”

There’s a shift between them. For a while now. As if all they have been doing is tiptoeing around each other. Like they’re stuck in a volcano of unspoken words that is just waiting to erupt. Destroying both of them until they’re drained out of blood, ashes amidst the casualties from the explosion.

The words float heavy between them and shake the stillness with a dynamic tension, a fist crawling up his throat that makes it hard for oxygen to reach his lungs and a coherent response to formulate in his beclouded minded. They haven’t been having any schedule together for a while prior to the fanmeet and this is the first time he’s properly looking at Pond in weeks, and Phuwin doesn’t miss the gray patch of sleeping bags lining the bottom of his eyes like bruises, a blemish just at the side of his face that wasn’t there when Phuwin last saw him, and his bangs has gotten slightly longer now, draping over his eyes that makes Phuwin itch to brush it away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Phuwin says defensively, feigning oblivion. Because he has no right to be defensive when it was always his intention to hide away his feelings.

Pond sits up on the bed now, sighing with so much force his shoulders slump with fatigue, hand coming up to comb his bangs back and relieving Phuwin of the urge. He looks like a soul wrung out of all of its energy, a light bulb just waiting to flicker off, such an evident contrast to how he looked just moments ago. As if Phuwin had exhausted the light out of him, taking the stars out of his eyes, and Phuwin’s heart suddenly aches to apologize for falling in love with him.

“Nothing,” Pond finally mutters softly, jaded as he starts to push himself off the bed like he suddenly wants to be anywhere but here.

Phuwin’s hand seems to have a mind of its own because in one instant, he’s picking up his bleeding heart up from the floor, and in the next, he’s trying hard to swallow it down as he reaches out to grab Pond’s wrist with cold fingers to tug him back, the fear of losing everything rising high in his throat as the shock of warmth and the stuttering pulse washes shivers down each knob of his spine.

“Don’t–” Phuwin starts but he has always had a problem with timing.

Pond’s wrist is already in his grasp, tangible and fracturing. The force of the pull is laden with so much raw desperation to keep him from leaving that it paints astonishment on Pond’s face only inches from his own when he stumbles forward, hands reach out to press his palms flat on the bed at each side of Phuwin’s head, steadying himself as his body hovers over Phuwin’s very own trembling one.

It’s not the first time they’re breathing the same air, they have kissed on camera to the point that they have both lost counts. But this is different. A territory that has felt forbidden from the very start of all of this. There aren’t any cameras, there’s no one to tell them what to do and when to stop, and there’s something about Pond’s parted lips and drained eyes that have him leaning in close until he’s filling his lungs full of Pond’s shaking exhales.

Pond’s breath gets lost in his throat when Peem tilts his head forward, a moment lost in time where his mind draws blanks with the light humming of the air conditioning running in the background to encompass the space with white nose where Phuwin sees nothing but black. Pond’s breath tastes like the ocean and a cosmic explosion behind his eyelids. They don’t kiss, but it’s so close to becoming one that his mind goes reeling and Phuwin’s breath chases and chases until they’re reeling to an immediate halt. And just as fast as it happened, Phuwin pushes Pond’s back with twice the speed and coughs once, hard enough for his throat to feel raw.

And Pond, as expected from the turn of events, looks more confused than ever, eyebrows threading together as he registers what had transpired with a scathing realization, the almost-kiss that Phuwin had initiated out of sheer spontaneously sprung on by his own conflicting emotions.

Phuwin suddenly wants to run from this until his lungs collapse because he may have shattered all salvation and blown his cover, unveiling more than he had ever intended with a crack in the facade that he’d spent so long building only to have it crumble down in the spur of a moment. The way Pond’s mouth is still handing ajar, words and questions and confirmation heavy on the tip of his plush bottom lips, tells Phuwin that he’s potentially fucked in a way where even bandaids won’t cover the scratches, where he can’t go back and make amends.

“Sorry,” Phuwin lowers his eyes, face blanches and he pushes Pond again, until he’s completely off of him until his own feets are flat on the carpet. “You’re right, it’s nothing.”

He doesn’t utter another word and paces out of the hotel room with tense shoulder, feeling the way a pair of eyes are burning against his back with the same intensity as the fingers digging crescents into his own palms or the tingling that lingers from the touch of Pond’s skin against his own, the fleeting taste of sin at the back of his throat. It’s ironic how love seems to flip everything upside down, reversing conversations and dialogue like an hourglass just barely running out of time, and Phuwin is starting to realize that time reverts for no one. The past is only an inkling of cemented memories.

“Phuwin wait—” he hears Pond calling out for him.

But the last grain of salt has already fallen, and Phuwin starts the hourglass anew.

–

When the cameras are on, Phuwin smiles at Pond like it doesn’t hurt. When the cameras are off, Phuwin looks at Pond like he wants it to hurt.

The world that engulfs them when the cameras are on is a sea of limitless optimism, like a switch in their heads calibrated in a perfect sync with the record button. And Phuwin will smile at Pond’s joke with the same ease he did years ago as though a part of him doesn’t shatter with each returned smile stained with a reminiscent illusion of the past.

And as soon as the cameras stop recording, the switch turns off in unison, and Phuwin pulls far away until he can’t feel Pond’s gaze on him and pushes the rich nostalgic of Pond’s low laugh out of his head because he can already feel soiled emotions surfacing like spring in the pit of his stomach, like the day he got his first taste of Pond’s light from the mirth of his smile.

And soon enough, Pond is out of sight and out of mind. But the unprecedented truth is that he craves a reality where Pond’s hand belongs in his, where he doesn’t feel ashamed in pressing his forehead between Pond’s shoulder blades even when the cameras are off, tired of living through the lens of someone else’s eyes.

—

And things stay like that between them until Pond corners him in their dressing room during one of their events, fingers hastingly reaching out to lock the door close.

“What the fuck is going on with you?”

Pond’s tone is almost unrecognizable. He has never used this tone with Phuwin before, he has always been nothing but soft spoken, like Phuwin is made of something fragile and perhaps, Phuwin has been so used to it. Has taken it for granted that he forgets, anger always shows its teeth even in the animals that deem the kindest.

Except Pond doesn’t sound all that angry, as if he’s weighing his emotions. As if he’s overwhelmed and confused in this string of games that Phuwin is dragging him along. As if Phuwin is running a knife across his heart leaving its tracks in the bloodstained remains of his torn up flesh. Pond doesn’t look angry. He simply looks wrung out, exhausted, like the light has been drained out of him, to the point that Phuwin finds it hard to recognize him. Phuwin thinks anger would have hurt less than the way Pond is looking at him right in this moment.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, for one, you ignore me the moment the cameras are off. Like you’re hanging on a tread of a switch, constantly going on and off. It’s like you’re a completely different person the moment the camera is on you. I’m just trying to figure out what the hell is going on.”

There’s no bite to his words, all the resentment washes away with a morose undertone, but Phuwin feels them like a bruising punch to his gut, enough to turn his insides purple and blue all over. And words are failing him, like they sucked dry out of his chest, and all he can think of are trite cliches stained with platitude, it’s not you, it’s me.

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“Well you sure don’t look at me either.”

Phuwin understands the context of what he means better than Pond probably does, feels the weight more than Pond holds. But Phuwin is not made of enough steel willpower to strip Pond entirely from his life, mostly fleshy muscle fiber and a matrix of bones to cover his withering heart, and a part of him still holds a special hiding place for Pond’s gentle hands and pretty lips. He wants to hold onto friendship, onto the crystal shards of his youth being spent with Pond, but it’s hard trying to remember what that’s like when he’s loved someone for so long and he has forgotten what life was like before Pond. The past is a lost art without a light to lead the way.

“You’re just overthinking things,” Phuwin tries to mask the way his remark doesn’t even convince himself, not even a little.

“So look at me.”

Phuwin swallows hard and shifts his gaze back to Pond, preparing himself for what he doesn’t want to see, yet in doing so, he sees that Pond is right there beside him, eyes full of an aggrieved sadness that doesn’t suit his face and Phuwin has never found it so hard to look at Pond before. So many words burning at the tip of his tongue, begging Pond to never look this broken. Never for anyone. Especially for him.

“Why is it,” Pond says quietly, just barely above a whisper. “That on the off-chance you’ll actually look at me, you’re miles away, resenting my existence?”

He wonders how a person could be so wrong about him. How the one person who knows him better than anyone could be so terribly wrong about him.

“You know that’s not true,” Phuwin mutters firmly. Because if only Pond knows that in every single parallel universe they may find themselves in, where he exists in the same timeline as Pond, not a single version of him could ever resent Pond. Phuwin resents himself, down to the muscle fiber of his very being.

“But that’s the thing, Phuwin,” Pond tenses his jaw. “I just don’t know what to think anymore, not when you treat me like I don’t mean anything to you, like you deeply despise to even be in the same vicinity as me–”

“Stop,” Phuwin almost cries, but it takes everything in him to choke down the pain that rises up his throat like bile because this isn’t how it was supposed to be. He finds himself grabbing the collar of Pond’s shirt, forcing him back against the wall with a thump that clambers through the empty room and vainly hoping that it’ll knock out the insecurities from within Pond. And he’s looking at Pond now, with so much conviction rolling off of his chest, “do not ever think you mean nothing to me. Do not ever fucking put that thought in your head, ever.”

“Okay, then what is it, Phuwin? Why don’t you just fucking spit it out—”

And Phuwin does, right up against Pond’s lips with a roughness that renders them both breathless and starving for air. It’s dangerous, impulsive, but all Phuwin can think of is the way he’s suddenly kissing Pond by accident with so much force than reason, and he pulls away so fast that Pond’s lips are still left parted from the ghost of the kiss. He brings his fingers up to touch his simmering lips while Pond stares at him speechless, a million and one emotions flickering across his face as Phuwin stands there with regrets coursing through him like river veins.

“Fuck,” Phuwin breathes, running a hand through his hair, “that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

And Phuwin almost expect him Pond to push him off, to ask him what the fuck he was thinking. Phuwin almost wishes that Pond could just throw a punch or two, knock him out completely because maybe then, he can finally come back to his senses. But Pond would never do that. Pond would never touch Phuwin like that. Would never put his hands on Phuwin like he wants it to hurt.

But he does pull Phuwin forward, closer and closer, until they’re pressed up against each other. Chest to chest. Hips to hips. Until Pond’s lips are touching his again. This time with so much desperation that Phuwin reaches out to grip at the back of his neck to hold on and pull closer. And it’s nothing compared to all the time they have kissed on camera before. Nothing.

It’s more. It’s so much more.

Pond presses himself into him, draws him closer, fills every crevice in between their bodies. He kisses him.

He parts his mouth, Phuwin parts his own. They breathe each other in, tongues tangling and the moment they touch, they grow desperate.

It happens so quickly. And Phuwin can’t fucking stop.

His hands are all over him, appetitive, taking. And Pond’s are as well, feel all over his back, his arms, his neck, his shoulders. Pond doesn’t kiss like the characters that Phuwin has kissed on cameras all of these years, somehow it’s so distinguishable.

Pond kisses with abandon, wet and rough and desperate yet the softness of it all drips on the edges, like the gentleness is just a part of him, something that has molded itself into the person that is Pond. He kisses voraciously yet tenderly. He sighs into Phuwin’s mouth, forehead creasing, kisses him again, again, again.

Phuwin’s blood rushes, heart hammers.

His mind is spinning so fast that he finds that he can’t keep up, not when Pond is just feeding all of his curiosities of what it’s really like to kiss Pond. Not the characters he is playing. But Pond, the boy who looks at Phuwin like he’s made of starlight and moondust.

And Pond just knows how to kiss him, slow and drawn out but with this determination beneath it. A restless feeling works itself up Phuwin’s body and he makes this terrible little noise, whiny and breathy as he knots his fingers in Pond’s hair. And it’s almost embarrassing to be this needy for someone, it would be embarrassing with anyone else but this is Pond and Phuwin just simply wants. And wants. And wants.

One moment, they are pressed against the wall and the next Pond sits them on the couch with Phuwin’s legs thrown over his laps, his hand at the cut of his waist, both of his thighs now hiking up over Pond’s hips, his fingers pressing into Pond’s back, too fast, too everything and Phuwin is almost afraid to make the wrong move, calculating each touch of his fingers in his head like he fears one wrong press on skin and he’ll break this moment completely.

And he knows they shouldn’t be doing this, licking words right out of each other’s mouths instead of actually saying it outloud and resorting to leaving things unresolved, unmanaged, un-everything so that it hangs thick in the air like molasses. But no, Phuwin doesn’t want to push Pond away, not when he’s already tasted sin at the back of his tongue.

And there’s a question that has been lingering in his mind for far too long and he just has to ask. He just has too. He pulls back, feel the slick of his own lips separating from Pond’s wet ones, “is there someone–”

And the words hang themselves uselessly in the air because there are so many things he wants to ask. Is there someone else? Do you kiss anyone else like this? Do you touch anyone else like this? Do you let anyone have you the way I’m having you? Does it make me greedy if I want you like this, all to myself? Would you allow me to be greedy, just once? Just this one time.

But his tongue feels thick at the back of his throat and he only looks at Pond, like he’s hoping that Pond can read the words at the back of his mind. Like he wants to kiss Pond hard enough so Pond can see all of his secrets, the dirty, the filthy ones. The ones where he wishes to have Pond to the point that he’s willing to be ruined from the sheer desperation of getting to taste the desire that has been buried so deeply in the focal core of his being.

Pond brushes his hair from his forehead and Phuwin seeks for his touch out of instinctual habits, “there’s no one, Phu. There has never been anyone else.”

[solalunar-eclipse]

Ball & Chain of My Own Making

Written as part of the Sonic the Hedgehog Big Bang 2024, hosted by @sthbigbang!

Summary: Set in the Sonic the Comic (Fleetway Publications) universe. Now that Robotnik's grasp on the planet has finally been removed, the world is beginning to recover. During this process, Sonic goes to meet up with his old friend, Porker Lewis, on the Floating Island. Unfortunately, they're long overdue for a conversation…and it's going to happen whether he wants it to or not.

Wonderful art (may contain spoilers!) by:

@eosomit (GORGEOUS ART BY EOSOMIT HERE) @pikafleetsyolo (FANTASTIC ART BY PIKAFLEETS HERE)

AO3 Link

Wooden scaffolding arched towards the bright blue sky, free of smog for the first time in years. The foundations of future homes spread out across the land of the Emerald Hill Zone, built atop the rubble and ashes of the original village, proving that soon, the people who once lived here would be back and better than ever before.

A sudden gust of wind rattled the scaffolds, making them shake but not crumble under its force—because after all, this was no ordinary wind. This was the controlled tailwind created by the high-octane racing of one Sonic the Hedgehog, Hero of Mobius, reaching speeds even faster than his namesake.

He skidded to a stop in the midst of the construction, admiring the view around him. It was good to finally see the world rebuilding now that Robotnik had fallen…this had been just a dream for far too long, so to have it become tangible reality, something he could reach out and touch, was downright awesome.

After a few moments, he spotted one of his closest friends, Miles “Tails” Prower—to him just Tails—helping to push a high-up beam into a slightly better position with the assistance of his namesake tails, which spun like the blades of a helicopter.

“Hey, pal, you got anything ya need taking care of ‘round here?” Sonic yelled up to him. “Because you know if you do, it’ll be done before you’re finished saying so!” he finished, winking up at the fox.

Tails flew down from his place atop the framework, landing neatly in front of Sonic. “I’m afraid that was actually the last piece of work I had on my list for now! I think I’m going to go help out Johnny with his staff—he says it’s been on the blink lately, and I thought it surely couldn’t be much harder than that time I helped you repair your plane!” He beckoned happily for Sonic to walk alongside him as the two headed back to their current base of operations, and the hedgehog did so without protest.

“Hmh.” Sonic replied eloquently, folding his arms and frowning slightly. “Amy and Tekno are still out too, yeah?”

“They are…” Tails looked up at his friend for a moment, before his eyes widened with an idea. “Hey, there has to be a couple of malfunctioning badniks left to take out somewhere, right?”

Sonic sighed. “Not for a hundred miles—and believe me, I’ve looked.”

The fox’s twin tails flicked nervously. “I mean, the only work we have going on right now is this whole relocation project…the thing is, I don’t think any other baddies are quite ready to crawl out of the shadows so soon after Robotnik vanished.” he explained.

Sonic abruptly snapped his fingers. “Hey, there’s an idea! I’m gonna take the Tornado up to the Floating Island, see how that end of the relocation’s shaking out up there! Seeya, gotta scram!”

And with that, he was gone, Tails’s call of “bye!” (accompanied by an understanding smile he didn’t see) just barely reaching him.

Within moments, Sonic was already in the cockpit of his trusty biplane, flipping switches with the muscle memory of someone who had piloted it a hundred times before. His eyes roamed over the controls, then shifted to the shining red paint that adorned it—

…oh no…what have I done?

The Hero of Mobius abruptly froze, his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly as he remembered an earlier version of this very plane, crumbling and burning before his eyes—the fire had burned all around him, smoke choking the air, but this time not from one of Robotnik’s factories, instead it—

Sonic shook his head, gritting his teeth and forcing his quills to relax. “Everything worked out just fine,” he muttered. “He’s gone now. Amy and Tekno said so.”

With a few sharp movements, the plane’s engine was running smoothly, and Sonic taxied it down the runway and took off with ease. He only needed a moment to remember the controls, and then his memory of flying between islands on his adventures took over at last. 

As he climbed in altitude, he banked the plane around so it was pointing straight towards the Floating Island. While Tails had added a map to the Tornado, making it easier than ever to navigate, Sonic didn’t need any of that. He might not have…one particular effect from the Chaos Emeralds any longer, but that didn’t mean their energy would ever stop being intertwined with his being in a way he neither could nor cared to explain. 

He glanced briefly over the side of the biplane, enjoying the sight of Emerald Hill’s in-progress town below, now resembling a child’s plaything more than the towering structures he’d seen Tails working on earlier. 

As Sonic flew further, he passed over rivers that were running cleaner than before (though their banks still bore remnants of sludge) and the half-destroyed ruins of several of Robotnik’s factories. He smirked with a grim sort of satisfaction as he spotted a particularly torn-up building, stamped with that grinning logo all mangled and broken, unable to churn out even one more ounce of material to support the now-toppled Empire.

Thankfully for his notoriously short patience, it didn’t take Sonic long at all to reach the Floating Island. Avoiding the populated Mushroom Hill Zone for the time being, he instead circled the plane around over a large grassy clearing just outside the Hidden Palace, coming in for an (in his opinion) impressively smooth landing.

Sonic hopped out of the biplane after cutting its motor, grinning broadly. Any second now…

“SONIC!” a voice bellowed from within, accompanied by the sound of heavy footfalls. “What on Mobius are you doing here?”

Knuckles the Echidna stepped out of the shadows of the Hidden Palace, his arms folded over his chest and his ever-present glower meeting Sonic’s expectations perfectly. “You’d better not have shown up just to cause trouble. The Emerald Hill folk are in the middle of packing up their entire lives, and I am already at my limit with all the chaos around here.”

Sonic swiped under his nose, his smirk growing wider. “You’ve gotta be having some real trouble guarding all those Chaos Emeralds then, huh? I can always take care of them if you’re not up to it!”

Knuckles’s jaw tightened. “Sonic, I swear—“

“Relax, knucklehead!” he interrupted, cutting Knuckles off before he could get truly enraged. (Unfortunately, the continued presence of his smug smile may not have particularly helped, but he was more than fine with that.) “You should know I’m not here to mess anything up! Just popped up here to check out how things are going on your end. I don’t expect them to be moving quite as fast as my folks, obviously, but I figured if anyone could help speed the process up a little, it’d be yours truly.”

The echidna appeared momentarily torn between the promise of getting complete peace and quiet on his island sooner, or getting marginally more peace and quiet right now by hurling Sonic bodily off the island. Eventually, he just fixed the hero with his most stern glare, before pointing wordlessly to the door of the Hidden Palace.

Sonic snickered, strolling casually into the building and enjoying the irate grumbling behind him. Knuckles was just too easy to rile up, and his reactions were always fantastic.

“Oh, Knuckles, did you find out who it wa—Sonic!”

The hedgehog in question nearly jumped in surprise, but managed to conceal it beneath a smooth pivot to face the speaker…only to smile broadly once he registered just who it was. 

Sitting at one of the consoles around the massive room was none other than Porker Lewis, his old friend and former fellow Freedom Fighter. Porker practically leapt out of his chair, dashing over to greet Sonic more properly. “It’s just wonderful to see you! How’s everything going?”

Sonic flashed his trademark grin, not-so-subtly preening in response to Porker’s unfiltered enthusiasm. “You know me, always chillin’. Howzabout yourself, Lewis? Enjoying that island life?” he added, winking.

Porker smiled wryly, shaking his head. “I’m liking it a lot more now that Robotnik’s gone. Getting to help repair the technology Knuckles’s ancestors left behind is important work, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not nearly as intense as trying to topple a dictatorship.”

The hero’s face didn’t move a millimeter, but somehow, his smile felt so much more strained. “Yeah. It’s…good that’cha can just work on that now instead of having to put up with badniks all day, every day.”

Porker’s own expression faltered briefly, before he brightened up again, albeit more mellow than before. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t just come here to stand around and talk! I’m supposed to be repairing some of the zoom tubes in the Hydrocity Zone today, but I can leave that for later if you want to have a look around Mushroom Hill together.”

“Psh, no way! It’s been ages since I got to give Hydrocity the old run-around, I’ve gotta see if I can beat my fastest time down there! You wouldn’t deprive your old buddy Sonic a chance to do that, wouldja?” The blue hedgehog bounced into a more dynamic stance, one fist held in front of himself and his other hand thrown back as though he were about to spindash right this very second.

“If you tear up this chamber, I will throw you into the ocean.” Knuckles huffed, making Sonic scoff and straighten back up to face the serious guardian. At that very moment, Sonic’s eyes caught on exactly what Knuckles was leaning against—specifically, one of the switchboards in front of the Emeralds’ storage column. 

“Forget it, Porker…you’ve already done more than your share.”

“Don’t mention her, buddy. Lately she’s been driving me up the wall!”

“Whaaaa—!”

(The rock Sonic had been leaning against crumbled beneath him without warning, and he was sent pitching backwards into the column of pure Chaos energy. It surged through him, bright and powerful…and…violent…)

“Whoa, hey, Sonic? Sonic? You with me?”

“Agh!” He jumped backwards, immediately dropping into a fighting stance…before seeing that it was just Knuckles in front of him, one gloved hand raised as though he’d just been waving it in Sonic’s field of view. “Geez, Knucklehead, warn a guy next time you decide to stick your hand in his face, huh?”

“…you didn’t even react after I said I was gonna…chuck you off the island and all that. I didn’t actually mean it, you know. You might be annoying, but I’m not just going to let you drown.” the echidna muttered, still watching Sonic warily, as though he were about to space out again at any minute.

And Sonic wasn’t having any of that.

“Tch, I was just daydreaming about new ways to spindash that smug look ‘a yours right off your face.” he retorted, folding his arms defiantly. “I don’t hafta dignify every smart-aleck thing you say with a comeback, do I?”

Knuckles rubbed his brow, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Whatever. Porker, can you please take him anywhere that isn’t here? Mushroom Hill, Hydrocity, either way, just…ugh.”

Porker laughed sympathetically, walking up to stand next to Sonic, now with some papers in his arms and some tools on a belt. “I certainly can. So, Hydrocity, is it, then?” he asked the blue hero lightly.

“You know it!” Sonic gave him a thumbs up, before following his old friend to one of the doorways leading out of the Emerald Chamber. 

The two friends traveled down a short hallway, which led to a shaft so deep Sonic couldn’t even begin to see the bottom. Stairs spiraled around its outside, while a pole speared down the center, attached to the ceiling at one end and presumably the floor at the other.

Porker looked over at Sonic. “How about a race? You on the stairs, and me on the pole?” he asked. 

Sonic’s expression split into what had to be the biggest grin he’d worn yet. “You do realize you’re gonna lose embarrassingly, right?”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I can’t at least try, does it?” Porker insisted, his hands in his pockets and the set of his shoulders easy. Internally, Sonic appreciated the sight of his friend relaxed and happy. It had been far too long since he’d last seen Porker like this, after all.

The Hero of Mobius dashed over to the top of the stairs, settling into a sprinter’s starting position. “You sure you’re ready for this, Sonic?” the engineer sked, smiling cheekily as he grabbed onto the pole with both gloved hands.

“Ha! I’ve been ready, Lewis, you oughta know that by now!”

“Alright then!” Porker announced, to the otherwise empty room. “Three! Two! One! Go!”

Immediately, the former Freedom Fighter pushed off the platform and began to slide down the pole—but that could never compare to the power of pure Sonic speed. The instant the sound “go” hit his ears, Sonic tore off down the stairs so fast that anyone watching wouldn’t have been able to make out his features, only seeing the blue blur that had earned him yet another of his many monikers.

Sonic couldn’t help but beam as the wind whistled through his quills and his sneakers pounded on the staircase, loving the thrill of adrenaline that came from riding the line between landing each step as quickly as possible and tumbling into an uncontrolled fall. His agility had to be perfect to pull this off…and of course, it was. He was Sonic the Hedgehog, after all.

Once he hit the bottom, he looked up, waiting for Porker to appear. Thankfully, he’d only just started tapping his foot by the time the engineer came into view.

“Took you long enough!” Sonic smirked up at him, his arms folded and one eyebrow raised.

Porker smiled back. “Well, pardon me for not wanting to free-fall out of control! Not all of us are invincible Heroes of Mobius—that’s your job, after all!”

Sonic hesitated briefly, something about the title resonating oddly in his chest. “Say, speaking of which…it was…a little heroic, kinda, to be the one to clap Robotnik in cuffs like that. How’d you manage it?”

“Oh! Well, it wasn’t much, really. I was just trying to help some of the Emerald Hill folk evacuate out of the Mushroom Hill Zone, when I saw Robotnik trying to escape that massive fight you and Knuckles had with Dr. Zachary! I managed to rally a few of the braver people, and together we got the drop on him and cuffed him before he knew what happened,” Porker explained, beginning to walk into the zone as he spoke. “We were only able to get him because he was so thrown off guard by actually losing his grip on power for once—it was an opportunity we wouldn’t have gotten again! I may have left the Freedom Fighters, but I wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night if I’d let him get away, you know?”

Sonic could feel his confusion showing on his face, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to stop it. “You…I guess, but…”

“Is everything alright?” Porker was frowning in concern, and that was enough to convince Sonic that this conversation wasn’t worth pursuing any longer. 

He laced his hands behind his head casually. “Yeah, sure! You know me, since when am I not?”

“…” When Sonic snuck a peek at his friend out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Porker still looked uneasy. 

Luckily for him, a Bugernaut suddenly swooped down at Porker, forcing him to duck out of the way. Within seconds, Sonic had curled into a ball, smashing the badnik and landing with ease. He quickly scanned the area for any more, spotting a few patrolling in a line farther ahead. While Robotnik was gone, his influence clearly still lingered, even up here on the Floating Island.

Briefly, he glanced back at his friend, who shot him a quick smile and a thumbs-up—which was all he needed to tear off in pursuit. It was a matter of a single jump to reach the nearest platform, and then only one more leap to bounce from badnik to badnik in a line, freeing the various little critters inside.

Sonic landed on an even higher platform, crouching by the edge to scan the ground below for Porker. He could jump down easily…but that would mean more awkward conversation. And when his alternative was scouting ahead and taking out any leftover badniks so Porker wouldn’t have to deal with them? It was hardly a choice at all.

He waved to get Porker’s attention, before jerking a thumb over his shoulder and holding up his fists like he was about to get into a cartoonish fight. The former Freedom Fighter gave him a friendly salute back, before turning back to his path towards the busted zoom tube. Sonic let out a breath that, had anyone else heard, he would have denied having been a sigh. Then, in a blink, he wasn’t there at all, only a blue streak of light marking the path he’d taken. 

Thankfully, he did turn out to have a genuine excuse to rush on ahead, as he found several more clusters of badniks after that initial line of Bugernauts. While Porker followed the lower paths, Sonic took every shortcut he could find in an effort to cover as much ground as possible. However, being thorough did mean he had to make some…unfortunate choices, as well. Hanging from a slow rope pulley above water wasn’t exactly his idea of fun, and neither was the promise of dropping into the water to clear out some aquatic badniks, but let nobody ever say that the Hero of Mobius and leader of the Freedom Fighters wasn’t committed to what he did.

With a gulp of air, Sonic opened his hands and let himself drop, curling into a ball and crashing directly into the water. Thankfully, this particular area seemed to have a fast current to it, meaning that he merely had to keep himself curled up and let the water turn him into a badnik-busting buzzsaw. 

Not really loving the lack of air down here, Sonic thought to himself impatiently, finally uncurling in search of an air bubble once he was reasonably sure the room was clear. Now where would…

There!

A small imperfection in the floor of the area had allowed a tiny crack to form in the material. At that exact point, the liquid could freely drip out—but more importantly, air could flow in. Happily, it didn’t take long at all for an air bubble to appear that was big enough for Sonic to use, and he inhaled the oxygen inside eagerly.

His energy restored, the hedgehog made his way over to a slightly narrower section of pipe, letting the current sweep him along once more. Annoyingly, the water turbines were still active, but it was a small price to pay for his otherwise quick progress, and he could easily avoid them with the help of the support struts used to help the pipe hold its shape. Besides, before long, he was spindashing up a ramp and out of the water, soaring high into the air before landing with perfect ease. 

After a bit of casual platform-hopping, Sonic spied Porker a little ways away, kneeling by a strange mechanism and seemingly inspecting it. This must’ve been the fix-it job he had to do, Sonic mused, before leaping down to join his friend alongside the ancient travel system. 

“So, how’s it going?” he asked, making poor Porker yelp and drop his screwdriver with a clatter, startled.

“Sonic!” he scolded, but his smile severely diminished any attempt at properly convincing the hedgehog to regret his actions. “You startled me!”

“I have eyes, I noticed,” Sonic quipped, shifting to lean casually against the wall. “You didn’t answer my question though, you really gonna leave a guy hanging like that? And here I thought we were friends.” he complained, wearing a faux-devastated expression.

Porker stared at him blankly for a moment, before recognition lit up his eyes. “Oh, yes, of course! It really is on you for making me forget, though.” Sonic scoffed lightly, but otherwise didn’t speak, leaving room for Porker to continue.

“It’s frankly quite a simple fix,” the engineer began. “While the tubes themselves are largely made of stone, the mechanical parts that create the vacuum necessary to enable this kind of rapid travel are much more delicate and therefore prone to failure. That’s why the tubes here aren’t working anymore—there must have been a malfunction in this area. Now all I need to do is open it up—” and just as he said this, he heaved a panel off the side of the structure in front of him, revealing an incomprehensible mess of pistons, cogs, and other unidentifiable bits and bobs. “—and figure out what's going on in here.”

“Huh. Why’d the echidnas decide to stick this thing all the way down here instead of up with everything else in the Emerald chamber? Somehow I don’t get the sense they were particularly in it for the sightseeing opportunity.” Sonic remarked, moving to lean against a different piece of the machine’s casing.

Porker’s laugh rang out from the metal walls of the structure, having already slid mostly inside to take a closer look. “Beats me! Knuckles and I are still having quite a time working on translating the ancient language used on most of the schematics for this place. We just got the blueprints for this all sorted out yesterday—it only became a major priority when the tubes stopped functioning. I haven’t even had a chance to dig through more of what we think are records, since most of our focus has been on the way the Floating Island works anyhow.”

Sonic smirked at the sound of Porker’s evident good mood. “Ol’ Knucklehead better have those blueprints all translated correctly, or else he’s gonna wind up going backwards instead of forwards next time he hops in one a’ these!”

“Oh goodness, I certainly hope it doesn’t come to that!” Porker still sounded amused, but also a little concerned. Not ideal. “At least they’d be working again, I suppose!”

“Well, pal, tell ya what. ‘Cause I’m such a kind and generous soul, I’ll give the tubes a spin once you’ve got them all set up! Just make sure to double-check your screws first—I’m not about to have Knuckles laughing at me if I get closely acquainted with the nearest rock, alright?”

“I’ll certainly do my best!” the engineer replied brightly. “Wait—oh, Sonic, I think I’ve found the problem!” he added, shifting around some more inside the machine.

“Forreal? Huh, I guess all that studying must’ve been worth it if you can find the problem that fast!” Sonic remarked, pushing off from the metal plating and strolling around to where Porker was.

“It’s a relatively simple issue too, thank goodness,” his friend continued, “there’s a hole in the main conduit for the pressurized air. In the long term, this pipe should really be replaced, but for now, I think a simple patch job will suffice.”

“What, and you just happen to have ‘pipe patcher’ on ya at all times?” Sonic asked, snickering slightly. “You go to dinner at someone’s house and think ‘oh no, better not leave my pipe patches at home’?”

Porker’s sigh echoed in the machine’s chamber. “It’s really not all that special, all I’m using is duct tape. So long as it makes a proper seal—which I’m being careful to do now—it should hold well enough for us to go back and get a proper replacement. And duct tape is an essential part of any engineer’s toolkit, especially when they’re going to do some engineering work. Which is exactly what we came down here to do.”

“We?” the hedgehog asked. “S’far as I can see, you’re the one doing all the fix-it jobs around here, I’m just tagging along to clear out badniks and have a good time. Wouldn’t wanna be inside that thingamajig anyway, you can barely even move in there!”

Porker made a movement that seemed to suggest a shrug. “It’s really not that bad,” he said, beginning to extricate himself from the mess of machinery. “I honestly find it quite comfortable—though I must admit there have been a couple of times when the sentries didn’t think to warn me politely before tapping me…I earned myself quite a few bruises before they learned not to do that.” Now fully outside, he shook his head with a slightly tired smile. “At least they apologized afterwards, I suppose.”

“Aw, man, I wish I’d been there! I would’ve paid good money to see that!” Sonic clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, grinning good-naturedly. “So, we gotta head back and grab that piece, yeah?”

Porker nodded in agreement. “Yes, we do, but first—”

But by the time the word “yes” had left his mouth, Sonic was already in the tube.

“Aw yeah!” he whooped to himself, rocketing upwards at a breathtaking speed. “This is the good stuff!”

Suddenly, however, he noticed that his speed was…beginning to slow down. He frowned. The zoom tubes normally didn’t do that at all, instead letting him blast out at full speed. This wasn’t a new problem Porker would have to fix, was it?

Sonic felt his quills begin to raise as he continued to decelerate, scraping uselessly against the near-frictionless surfaces of the inside of the tubes. The air grew weaker and weaker, struggling to push him up a vertical passage, and the Hero of Mobius felt a cold chill settle in his stomach. 

He curled up just a little tighter, trying to use the movement to regain even a fraction of forward momentum, and that was enough to get him through the bend onto a horizontal plane, but then—

—he stopped moving.

Entirely.

Sonic the Hedgehog, the fastest thing on Mobius, could no longer move.

~~~

Porker Lewis, on the other hand, was running as quickly as he possibly could.

He’d wanted to warn Sonic that he needed to check the air pressure first, make sure everything was at least moderately in working order before he let his friend give the zoom tubes a test run, but while Sonic’s thoughts moved much faster than his own, that didn’t necessarily mean he had a greater amount of caution. Now, Porker had no idea where Sonic was, nor whether he’d even made it out of the tubes at all.

Still, the engineer pushed himself to follow the path upwards, in spite of the increasing difficulty he met with as he climbed. More precarious platforms, more obstacles, and wider gaps had to be dealt with, slowing Porker down as he struggled to navigate, but he refused to let the tube out of his sight. He had to be coming to a bend or junction soon at this rate…

And then, he saw it. The tube made a right angle, running along the ceiling of the Hydrocity Zone, and within it, just visible through the glass paneling, was a ball of blue.

Quickly, Porker scanned the area. The panel was held in place by a frame, which could be easily removed with his screwdriver, but getting to the tube in the first place would be rather more difficult. Further examination revealed that there were small crevices and ledges on the wall adjacent to it that he could use to climb up, but staying in position without falling and injuring himself would be complicated, especially since he would essentially need to turn around while on the wall to properly remove the paneling. 

Still, it was the best he could do, given the situation. Removing the screwdriver from his tool belt and holding it in his mouth, Porker began to clamber up the side of the rock wall, moving as quickly as he could without putting himself in danger. He would be no use at all to Sonic with a broken leg, of course.

Speaking of him—“Sonic! I’m going to unscrew the paneling! You’ll be out shortly!” Porker shouted, forcing his voice as loud as it could possibly go.

If his friend replied, the engineer couldn't hear it. Nerves gripped his heart as he forced himself to climb faster, reaching the top soon after. Now came the difficult part; he braced himself with a hand against the pipe, before carefully shuffling his feet in a manner that would allow him to turn around and press his back against the rock wall.

The only thing keeping him from falling now was the strength of his arm as he pushed against the tube.

Carefully, Porker began to unscrew the frame bit by bit, wiggling the screws out of their housing one by one and letting them drop to the floor. After the third screw, his supporting arm began to tremble, but he refused to let it falter. Not when Sonic was counting on him.

The fourth screw dropped. At first, the frame refused to move, but a good whack with the screwdriver fixed that—followed by a sudden flinch from Porker as the glass panel dropped and shattered on the ground below.

“Good heavens, that’ll be quite the repair job…” he muttered to himself, before recalling exactly what the situation was at the moment.

“Sonic? Sonic, can you hear me?” he called, craning his neck in an effort to get a better look at the insides of the tube. He could see the ball of blue spines pretty well, actually, but something wasn’t quite right.

“…oh.” Porker murmured quietly.

Sonic was shaking.

He would have to get the hedgehog out all by himself, but how? He certainly couldn’t reach into the tube, not from this angle, and Sonic was clearly unable to move. The only thing he did seem capable of, as a matter of fact, was bristling his spines.

Wait. If Sonic had his spines raised, then that meant they could catch on something, yes? Porker began to hurriedly shrug off his jacket, only pausing to swap hands on the pipe once his screwdriver was back in his belt. Frowning in an effort to better gauge the distance, he swung the jacket back and forth once, twice, and then up into the tube—and thank goodness, at least one thing had gone right in this whole mess, when the cloth caught securely on Sonic’s spines.

Porker pulled as hard as he could, and for once the near-frictionless surface of the zoom tubes proved useful when his friend moved along with little resistance. Uncomfortably slowly, given the awkward angle, Sonic’s curled-up form slid further and further forward until finally, he slipped out of the opening.

What Porker had forgotten, however, was that Sonic had weight, and weight affected both balance and gravity.

What this meant, in practice, was that Porker very nearly wrenched his arm out of its socket fighting to keep them both from falling.

Even then, he didn’t succeed for very long, pitching forward and off the face of the wall soon afterwards. At the very least, his fall was more controlled, so that when he landed, he merely sprained his ankle instead of breaking it. (Happily, he was also able to avoid the shattered glass on the ground. Things would have gotten much more complicated if he hadn’t, and he was already about at his limit for complications.)

He ought to be thankful for small mercies, he supposed, because that at least meant the pain wasn’t so excruciating that he couldn’t check on his friend. 

“Sonic? Sonic, are you al—are you hurt?” he asked quickly, pulling himself along the ground towards the hero, who had uncurled and was now on his hands and knees, with his head hanging between his arms.

For a moment, Sonic didn’t respond at all, and Porker felt a pang shoot through him. Just a second later, though, the hedgehog sat up, raising an eyebrow at him cockily. “Am I hurt? You’re the one who can’t curl up into a ball here, I’m not the one you should be checking on.” 

“I wasn’t just talking about the fall. I meant before that, too.” Porker insisted, unwilling to let it go quite so easily.

“Tch, what, me getting stuck in the tube? Just don’t tell Knucklehead, he’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Porker felt his stomach turn uncomfortably. He really, really didn’t want to push this, but the thought of Sonic pretending that nothing had happened sat even worse with him. Shakily, he inhaled once, then sighed, and felt his shoulders tense up as he prepared to speak again.

“Sonic.” Porker insisted. “I saw you shaking with my own two eyes. I can’t just let that go.”

“What, me? Shaking?” Sonic scoffed. “You of all people should know that the Hero of Mobius doesn’t shake, pal.”

The engineer frowned…and then abruptly his expression softened, as something that Sonic had just said caught his attention. “No, I get it. The Hero of Mobius doesn’t shake, you’re right. But, well, my old friend Sonic, from way back in Green Hill…he’s allowed to get scared in front of me, I think. Whether or not he thinks he should.”

“Uh, you sure you didn’t hit your head in that fall, Lewis?” Sonic asked, now the one to squint over at his friend in confusion. “In case you forgot, this speedy blue hedgehog—y’know, the one called Sonic—is the Hero of Mobius.” He jabbed a thumb at his chest for emphasis.

Porker took another deep breath subtly, trying his best to keep from getting exasperated. “That’s true. But being the Hero of Mobius is a job, and being Sonic just…is. You’re Sonic all the time, but you’re only the Hero of Mobius when you want to be. And you don’t have to be in front of me.”

“You sure about that one? ‘Cause last I checked, only one of us was up to being a hero.” Sonic shot back.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he froze, his eyes widening slightly and his teeth snapping together so hard they clicked in the suddenly heavy silence.

“Porker—we can—just forget that happened, ‘kay? Apparently my mouth moves as fast as the rest of me sometimes, heh.” 

Porker gave Sonic a surprisingly flat look, making the hedgehog’s poor attempt at humor fizzle out into nothingness. His grin twisted into a grimace, and his hands balled into fists on the floor as he avoided Porker’s eyes.

Well, at least now he’s hiding his emotions less, the former Freedom Fighter thought to himself, internally sighing.

“Sonic.” he said softly, and while his friend didn’t flinch, his fingers did tighten noticeably.

“I’m not upset. Or—well—I am, but not at you. I just don’t like that you feel you have to be a hero around me all the time. I know we were fighting Robotnik for so long, it’s kind of hard to be anything else…but before that, we were just friends, stumbling our way through life together.”

Porker sighed, allowing himself a bittersweet smile. “I’d like to go back to being that way, at least to some extent, now that the war is over.” He hesitated briefly, before continuing, “If you don’t want to though, for whatever reason, I’ll understand.”

Sonic laughed, but his eyes were too wide for it to seem genuine. “Hey, what? Of course we’re friends, there’s no way I’d wanna change that! Why on Mobius would you ever think I would?”

“It’s…difficult to explain.” Porker began, picking up a chunk of debris and worrying circles into it with his thumb. “Sometimes it feels like when you look at me, you’re seeing just another civilian to protect, instead of, well, me.”

“Well, that’s not it at all!” Sonic straightened up boldly. “It’s totally different—I’m just making sure you don’t have to deal with the difficult stuff anymore after we—after you, y’know, got stuck on, uh, Little Planet.”

“Sonic, just because I was too stressed out to continue fighting in a war doesn’t mean I’m too distraught to live my life, or to help my friends when they could use a hand!” the engineer explained. “Besides, living here on the Floating Island has done wonders for me, I’d say.”

Sonic had sported a strangely skeptical expression for the first part, but when he finally spoke up, it wasn’t in response to that at all. “Was it really good enough for you that you were able to handle Robotnik?” he asked, frowning genuinely.

Porker stared blankly at his friend for a few moments as several things suddenly slotted into place. “Is that what you meant when you asked me how I was able to cuff him earlier?”

Sonic’s sudden eagerness to look away and shift positions, combined with a short “Eh, it’s whatever. Never mind.” told him all he needed to know.

He bit back his first instinct, which was to get upset that Sonic essentially seemed to view him as an invalid, no longer capable of functioning in the face of difficult situations. Getting upset wouldn’t help here—he’d known Sonic long enough to be certain that if he got angry, Sonic’s temper would flare up to match. Instead, he struggled to work out how best to explain his current situation to his friend. 

Porker knew that Sonic had gone through a difficult process when he’d decided to leave the Freedom Fighters, and had taken some time to come around to the fact that not everybody had his level of fortitude and resilience when it came to coping with difficult situations. However, it seemed like Sonic had understood Porker’s choice to leave as a permanent “off” switch on his abilities, instead of the truth, which was that the scales of “desire for freedom” and “fear of lasting damage” had simply tipped in the other direction, without any weight being removed from the former.

Suddenly, he was jolted from his musings by the voice of the hedgehog in question. “Listen, how about we head back to Hidden Palace and grab whatever parts you need? That way you can show me around some more, yeah?”

Slowly but surely, Porker got to his feet, sighing tiredly and trying not to wince at a twinge from his ankle. “Hang on, I just wanted to explain one thing first. You mind if I talk your ear off for just a moment?” He shot Sonic a half-smile, and that seemed to do the trick.

“Sure thing, pal. Hit me.” he replied carefully, moving to lean against the wall.

“I may have assumed this was more obvious than it actually was, but…I was always scared. Even when you first asked me to join the Freedom Fighters, I was frightened as anything.” Porker began, cringing internally as Sonic tensed up once again. “But the thing was,” he hurried to add, “I believed in the better future you talked about more than I felt afraid. So I pushed myself to join because I wanted to help make a world where people like me didn’t have to be so scared all the time, and that was enough to keep me going.

“But then…when I was held on Little Planet for so long…” Porker trailed off, memories of wire biting into his arms and endless examinations flashing before his eyes briefly. He blinked rapidly and squeezed the rock in his hand tighter in an effort to dispel the images—only to look up into an expression on Sonic that was emptier than any he’d ever seen before.

The engineer sighed and shook his head, smiling ruefully. “After that, I was so worried about it happening again that I couldn’t contribute to the team like I wanted, and, well, you know the rest.” He paused for a moment, composing his next sentence in his head. “I think there was one thing I should’ve said to you back then, but didn’t, because I thought it was obvious.”

“Yeah?” Sonic’s voice was perfectly measured, perfectly even.

“I don’t blame you for what happened. I don’t even see how I could—I knew the risks, I knew Mobius had to be kept safe, and I made my choice. I mean, in the end, it all worked out too. If that was really what had to happen to start the chain of events that led to the Empire of Metallix being defeated, then I can’t even say I regret it.”

“Porker.” Sonic marched over, staring at him with narrowed eyes. “Now I know for a fact you hit your head in that fall. Either that or I need to get my ears checked, because I know I didn’t just hear you say you’re okay with the fact that we all left you there.”

“What else am I supposed to say?” he asked, genuinely. “We were in a difficult situation, not to mention a dangerous profession. Awkward choices and bad experiences were bound to happen eventually. All things considered, I escaped without any serious physical damage and got the space I needed to work on healing mentally. Things could have gone a whole lot worse—”

“But they also could’ve gone better!” Sonic barked. “We left you there! We all could’ve gone back with you, fought off the Metallix together!”

“And left the planet defenseless against Robotnik? That would’ve been terribly dangerous.” Porker forced himself to keep his posture open, hoping that having something else to focus on would help him feel less stunned that his friend was on the verge of yelling at him. “Besides, it’s equally possible that the Metallix would have overpowered us all, seeing as we’d be stuck there for a month, and then who would have saved us from them?”

“What, so are you telling me you’re fine with the way things turned out?” the hedgehog snapped.

“Yes and no,” Porker replied, hating how stiff his voice had become, but unable to search for any better words, “I certainly would have preferred to not be trapped on Little Planet for a month, but since I was, and we were able to destroy the empire that I was stuck with, I don’t really have anything left to be angry about. I may be upset that it happened to me, but I’ve decided that I don’t resent anyone for the way it happened.”

“Yeah? Well, good for you, but not all of us feel that way, y’know.” Sonic spat.

Porker hesitated for a moment. He had a feeling that he knew exactly what his friend meant, but he wanted to check something first.

“Are you upset with me for going back?”

“Wh—f—why would I be mad at you?” Sonic looked like he was about to explode, face twisted into a snarl. “It’s the Metallix’s fault, for being scummy enough to treat you like they did! It’s Robotnik’s fault, for making those machines in the first place, and for making a Mobius where there needed to be Freedom Fighters at all! And—and it’s on me for asking you to join the Freedom Fighters, because then this’d never have happened!”

The walls of Hydrocity Zone rang with the echo of Sonic’s outburst.

“…we’re done here.” the hedgehog muttered, turning away.

“N-n-no, we’re not.” Porker insisted, still gripping the rock, now so tightly that his hands shook. Sonic whipped around, his eyes hard, but Porker pushed onwards as quickly as he could. “S-Sonic, you couldn’t have possibly known this would happen. You may be a hero, but you’re not the Omni-Viewer—you can’t kn-know or do everything. And that’s fine!” he added, quickly, seeing Sonic’s quills begin to rise. “I don’t, I don’t expect you to, and anyone who does is being absurd, frankly. All you knew when you asked me to join was that Robotnik needed to be s-stopped, and that I was smart enough to help. And all you could—could do when I went back to Little Planet was make an impossible choice, and if you’re sorry that I got hurt, then I’m sorry I put you in a position to choose between me and everyone else.

“I don’t know if you really do r-regret asking me to join the Freedom Fighters—and if you do, I can try to understand why, but I have to inform you that I disagree whole-heartedly. You would n-not have survived fighting Robotnik on your own, you needed others by your side, and you were a big enough person to a-admit that in spite of the fact that I’m sure you would have preferred otherwise. If you regret asking me, then do you regret asking Johnny, or Tails? Do you regret bringing all of us into this? Because let me tell you, if I have to choose between a future where I am traumatized but alive, or a future where I never met the Metallix and you are gone, I would choose the former every time!”

Porker’s legs wobbled beneath him, and he lowered himself to the ground quickly, breathing hard and fast. “S-sorry, sorry for my harsh tone at the end there.” he apologized. “I didn’t m-mean to get so worked up.”

“…Porker.” Sonic said, no longer facing him, his voice strangely quiet in a way the engineer had never heard before. “You’re—right. About all of it. I’m glad you said yes when I asked you to join. Without you, we’d never have saved Kintobor, or gotten all the gadgets we needed to fight. It just, you know. Like you said. We were friends, but I was also the leader. That made your safety my responsibility. And you know me, I don’t like to, well. Lose. Heh.” He laughed humorlessly, even as his hands twitched and shifted with surprising intensity. “When you’re the Hero of Mobius, and you don’t save someone. Anyone. But especially a friend. It makes a guy wonder if he still gets to call himself a hero. If he still…has that friend. After he couldn’t keep him from getting permanently hurt. You know.”

“I think I do know.” Porker replied, almost instantly, needing to make sure Sonic knew that this opening up, no matter how stilted, was the right thing to do. “And I know that his friend has been with him for a while. His friend has seen him save people so many times, over and over again, even without a reward. So, quite frankly, if there was ever a time when he didn’t save someone, that friend would not doubt for a second that he didn’t wish things had gone differently. But,” he added, “this friend would also care about him a lot. And his friend would feel terrible if it seemed, for even a second, that a choice that the friend made was something he was using to make himself feel worse, whether he thought he deserved it or not. Because his friend is, well, his friend, right? So of course that friend wouldn’t want him to torture himself using the thought of what happened. 

“After all, he may be a hero—an incredible hero, even—but he can’t do everything, and like I said earlier, that's okay. That’s why the rest of us were there, to help him be able to do everything with our help. And sometimes that meant we were in danger, just like him. But that was okay, because there was no place we’d rather be than by his side, helping to make the world a better place.”

A single drop of water wet the stone by Sonic’s feet.

“There’s—” he croaked, before cutting himself off and abruptly clearing his throat. “There’s nobody I would rather have had with me.”

“I’m glad.” Porker smiled gently, and hoped it carried through in his voice.

“Ugh, first Super, now this—what is it with me and coming to visit you that makes bad things happen?” Sonic groaned, finally turning around once again (and the engineer elected not to notice how he was still working to compose himself).

“Well, in the very, very long run, that was a good thing too, considering that Super’s EMP blast was what enabled us to defeat Robotnik.” Porker said.

“Oh, so you’re not upset about that either?” Sonic asked, voice caught halfway between sarcastic and hesitant.

“Sonic!” the engineer huffed. “Super’s transformation process is completely involuntary! It may be frightening in the moment, but I would never, ever blame you for his actions!”

“…good to know.” Sonic said simply. “Speakin’ of which, I saw you two put up some better walls around the Emerald chamber, good to see we won’t have any more falling accidents.” He finally turned around, his arms folded and smirk back in place. “Don’t wanna find out what Super Porker is like or anything.”

“I hope seeing the Emerald chamber again wasn’t what bothered you earlier.” Porker’s brow furrowed in concern. “I didn’t even consider how it might be an unpleasant place to be…”

Sonic’s smirk lessened just a fraction. 

“You know, you’re always free to talk about it if you’d like.” Porker said, but when Sonic scoffed, he already knew it was a lost cause.

“Listen, I’ve had more than enough ‘talking about it’ for one visit.” Sonic rolled his eyes and did exaggerated air quotes, but…

…‘for one visit’ wasn’t ’for a lifetime’. Maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause after all.

Porker decided to take pity on his friend at last. “Would you like to head back to Hidden Palace now? You can bother Knuckles some more while I find the part I need to repair the zoom tubes.” 

“Finally!” Sonic exclaimed. “As much as I appreciate a good cave adventure every now and then, I’d rather be somewhere I can actually see the sun. Come on, let’s get moving.” He began to walk back towards the entrance, making Porker hesitate and frown over at him.

“…you’re not going to scout on ahead again?”

Sonic looked over at him, surprise registering for the briefest of seconds before he relaxed, his usual smirk returning—albeit somewhat crookedly. “Nah. If any badniks haven’t learned their lesson by now, we can handle ‘em.”

Porker could feel himself smiling wider than he had all day, enough so that Sonic seemed to notice. “Shut your trap, pixel-brain.” he grumbled, folding his arms. “Haven’t we had enough sappy nonsense already?”

“Fair enough,” Porker admitted. “So, how’s the rebuilding process going back in Emerald Hill?”

“The new town’s looking better every day!” Sonic’s grin returned in full force. “It’s gonna be much more defensible, but it’s also just way better quality and more sturdy than before.”

“That’s fantastic.” Porker said, suddenly feeling as though a weight he hadn’t even noticed had been lifted off his chest. “As much as the hillfolk have appreciated Knuckles’s hospitality, they seem eager to get home.”

“It’ll be good to have them back.” Sonic sighed. “Seeing the world start to live a post-Robotnik life sure is something, huh?”

“It really is. Sometimes I wondered if we’d be fighting for the rest of our lives,” Porker smiled ruefully. “But I’m so happy that isn’t the case.”

They walked together in silence for about half a minute, giving them both time to admire the water flowing through the caverns and the massive pillars helping to keep it all stable. The fact that the colors on the pillars hadn’t faded after all this time was fascinating to Porker, and he was beginning to think back on the papers Knuckles had gotten from that pirate fellow—

Sonic abruptly dragged his hands down his face and groaned. “Now you’ve gone and done it! Why’d you have to bring up Super in the first place, now I can’t stop thinking about him!”

“Technically, you brought him up.” Porker corrected him, before smiling sheepishly when Sonic shot him a glower (without any heat behind it, of course).

“Listen, it’s just—something about falling into the Emerald chamber made him way worse than usual. I don’t know all of it, but lemme tell ya…” He trailed off, staring into the middle distance.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Porker said softly, wishing he could give his friend a hand on his shoulder or a hug, but that wouldn’t help someone like Sonic. Instead, he jammed his hands in his pockets, kept walking, and waited.

“Ugh…waking up in the wreckage of our plane with the others nowhere in sight…fire everywhere…feeling myself laughing without knowing why…it’s good he’s gone, ‘cause I’m never about to see something like that again.” Sonic spat, forcing the tremor from his voice.

Porker felt his stomach turn. “Nobody told me about that! I can’t imagine how that must have felt, being amongst all that devastation without knowing what had happened!”

“They didn’t even tell me they were alive for days.” Sonic muttered, his shoulders hunched. “Super was still an issue, I know why they didn’t, but they left me thinkin’ I’d—! For days!” Suddenly, he kicked a rock with such speed and violence it shattered on impact.

Sonic clenched his fists, stopping in his tracks in an attempt to catch his breath. Porker shifted a little closer to him, worrying the fabric of his gloves with his fingers. “I’m sorry that happened. I’m guessing you haven’t mentioned this to any of them?”

“Why would I?” Sonic scoffed. “It worked, didn’t it? They fixed the problem.”

Porker opened his mouth—then hesitated—then sighed gently. “Well. I can see why they might have done that, but I don’t necessarily think it was the perfect solution. And if you ever want to talk about it more…I’m here. As your friend.”

“…you meant what you said earlier, right?”

“Hmm?” Porker blinked. “I said a lot of things earlier, I’m afraid you’ll have to remind me.”

“About…not blamin’ me for the stuff he does.” Sonic muttered, clearly embarrassed.

“Of course I did!” he insisted. “And I’ll say it as many times as you need! I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you. I don’t—” 

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Sonic snickered, shoving Porker lightly. “Save your breath for all these stairs, we gotta climb them to get back up to that knucklehead.”

“Oh, good heavens.” Porker sighed, eyeing up the spiral staircase warily.

Sonic rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk softening just a fraction. “Forget it, Porker, just grab on tight.”

Seconds later, they were back in the main room of the Hidden Palace.

The engineer pulled his wrist from Sonic’s grip, stumbling over to the nearest control panel and slumping into a seat. “I will never be used to that,” he wheezed, chuckling lightly.

“Sonic, you’d better not have broken my best engineer!” Knuckles barked, stomping over to the two of them.

“Isn’t he also your only engineer?” Sonic shot back.

“All the more reason not to drag him along when you decide to have a run around!” the echidna insisted.

“Knuckles?” Porker called, interrupting the two’s bickering. He had removed one of his shoes—but not his sock, obviously—and was bandaging up his sore ankle. Both of the others seemed concerned, but when he smiled reassuringly, they both trusted him enough to back off. “Oh yeah, just turned my ankle, nothing major. Anyhow, do you know where the replacement air conduits are? We found the break, but my temporary fix wasn’t much of a fix at all.”

“Drawer 14B.” he replied, already heading off in that direction. “I’ll get it for you if you keep this prickly tank of hot air out of my face some more. Take him to Mushroom Hill or something, have him play with the toddlers a bit to burn off that energy.”

Sonic huffed, tapping his foot rapidly. “Hot air?! You come back here and say that to my face! C’mon, Porker, let’s leave the guardian to his sulking.”

The engineer laughed under his breath as he joined his friend once again. “You two could have a whole comedy show with that kind of banter.” he said warmly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Sonic rolled his eyes. “Now who needs help packing up?”

Porker did indeed proceed to show Sonic all around the Mushroom Hill Zone, and the two helped out where their skills were needed as the citizens of Emerald Hill prepared to return to their long-evacuated home. (As a matter of fact, Sonic sped up the process by at least half a day, which went greatly appreciated amongst everyone present.)

Once they had finished with that, Sonic admitted that he should probably head back soon, to make sure that the rebuilding process was still going well and that his other friends didn’t need him for anything urgent. Porker walked him back to the plane, the two chatting about memories new and old along the way. And just before Sonic hopped into the cockpit, he placed a hand on Porker’s shoulder—the only differences from last time being that Sonic was the one to leave via plane instead…and that Porker put his hand over Sonic’s for just the briefest of moments.

As the Hero of Mobius took off, he looked back for a second to see his old friend waving him off with a smile on his face, and he couldn’t help but feel pleased to know that he was welcome back whenever he felt like it. To his surprise, however, there was one other thing he noticed—or rather, the absence of something.

This time, when he had settled into his plane and prepared for takeoff, the memories of Super hadn’t been there. Even now that he noticed it, even though he could still remember the fire, now, there was also…

“I don’t blame you.”

And wasn’t that just something else?

[darling-i-read-it]

Survivor's Guilt Part 2

Part 1

Chris Redfield x fem!reader, Ethan Winters x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: angst on ethans side, re7 spoilers, canon violence (zombies, horror, guns), cheating kind of, near death experiences..i think thats it

Author’s Note: I felt like this story led organically towards Chris though that does not mean I don’t love Ethan to death. I felt unsure about the ending but am glad I was able to write a part 2 because people have been asking about it! 

Tagging: (i hope you guys dont mind I’m tagging you but you seemed interested in a second part!) @godihatethiswebsite @undeadfreak47 @hexaecana @elysiaaaaaaa

Summary: You and Chris search for Ethan in the ship and old feeling resurface. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Chris’s voice was even when he spoke, even when he was scared. Especially when he 

was scared. There was no point in making everyone else react to something if he could just keep that all pent up, make everyone think he had it under control. Your face was so wide with terror, the kind he had never seen plastered on your face before. He didn’t recognize it on your features but he recognized it. He knew it from the civilians he helped, those that were so worried about their loved ones that they would do anything to see them safe. The look in your eyes dripped with self sacrifice. He wondered if he looked like that when he was with you. He wondered if despite what he thought, he looked like that even now, following you around and blocking you from danger. 

You had lost Ethan. Lost him in the house, on the ship. You were stuck walking around a shipwreck that was too large to case, too large to fully understand. 

Chris was trying his best to make you feel like he had it under control. He would find Ethan, return him back to you, never see you again. The more time he spent alone with you the less that became a priority so he was eager to forget this ever happened. Forget it happened for the sake of his sanity. Forget that there was likely a life where you and he were happy and normal and domestic. 

Even when you brushed past him in the tight hallways of the ship, he longed for your touch. 

“If Ethan’s here then so is Mia,” you muttered. Your voice was barely above a whisper. It sounded so loud but you were trying to ensure it didn’t echo down the hallway. You could never be sure that there wasn’t something watching you. 

“Eveline too,” Chris said, just as quietly. You were both tense as you walked around a corner. Chris hadn’t put his gun down in ages. It was starting to leave imprints in his gloved hands. 

“It’ll be a party,” you muttered. Your eyes caught a glimpse of something on the ground. You rushed forward in the near darkness to find a knife, a lot like the ones left at the Baker house. It had dark blood smeared on the tip. There was nobody to accompany it. 

“You think it’s Ethan’s?” he questioned, looking over your shoulder. You shrugged. 

“Could be. Could be Mia’s.” You pocketed it. You kept walking. Chris followed you, watching your six like his life depended on it. You glanced back at him. “How did things get like this? When I left, all the monsters were tangible. I could see them coming for me. Now we’re here with slime on the walls?”

"There's some sort of hive mind,” he explained. “There’s too much to tell you now. You’ll just have to trust me when I say it’s evolved.”

“Yeah well, I can tell that it’s evolved. But how?” 

“We don’t know.”

“You’ve been knee deep in this for so long and you still don’t know the reason it’s all happening? Is it Umbrella? Is it the world finally caving in?” You turned around to look at him. He almost ran into you. “Pretend I’m a civilian asking you these questions. How do you answer them? How do you tell people that you can be a perfectly nice family out in the middle of nowhere and still be targeted by something beyond your control?” His jaw set. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark so much so that you could see Chris’s stubble. You could see the look in his eyes, the challenge. 

He took the words as an insult. He took you being here, as an insult. He had done so much to protect you just for you to end up in the same place you would’ve even if he had kept you by his side. 

“Umbrella started something and they don’t know how to finish it,” he said finally. “But the world has assured us that there are other forces at work here. Eveline is not exactly an Umbrella creation.” You shook your head. 

“Of course not. Because that would be too easy. You defeat the big bad and it always comes back with more heads right?” You shook your head. “I’m sorry I’m coming at your throat. I just never thought I would be here again.” You had been comforted with the knowledge that people like Chris were out there protecting you. That was the only reason you let yourself go. 

“The world isn’t exactly fair.” 

“It never has been.”

Your eyes lingered on his. Remembering what it was like to touch him. Remembering what he looked like in the morning, the sun on his face, a gentle smile on his lips, a chaste kiss on your skin. The very thought made you angry. You had left all of this to have a life you weren’t even allowed to have anymore. 

It didn’t matter if Ethan lived through this or not. You would be right back where you had started years before. In danger. Always. 

There was a bang in the room before you. You turned around, gun raised again. It sounded like something hard had hit something metal. The conversation was over once again and you were back. 

You slowly slipped back into the you that understood how to use this gun well. The rust was chipping off. You were a soldier again. Had you ever stopped? Had your life with Ethan been anything except a distraction from who you really were? Had you been pretending this whole time to be something you knew you could never have? 

You shoved the door open. 

Mia stood at the end of the room. There was a large pipe surrounded by grated walkways. She was facing you. Even though she was hidden by her dark hair, you recognized her instantly. She was swaying a bit, twitching. 

“Mia,” you prodded. Her neck twitched. You saw an eye peek from behind her hair. “Mia, please put your hands in the air.” She didn’t make any movement, indicating that this was the Mia that took your boyfriend's hand off. Your face hardened as you approached her, gun raised, wondering if Ethan was already dead. “Mia.” 

She lunged at you without saying anything. She threw no insults, she didn’t bother to pretend. She just lunged. You shot at her but it only momentarily stopped her. It was like you had thrown a ball at her shoulder instead of a bullet. You kept shooting, even though it was doing effectively nothing. She reached you, hands on your sides with inhuman strength. 

You could hear Chris moving. You had never been more glad you had called him. You struggled with Mia, her snarls biting at air. You kicked her, you scratched at her, you used everything you could remember from training. 

She was thrown off you. 

You scurried away, backing away. You grabbed your gun which you had lost in the scuffle. You aimed it well, hitting her head in a clean shot. It went through her eye and out the other side. She stumbled. 

Someone was picking you up. You grabbed them, allowing them to help you to your feet. You recognized Chris as you stood against him, still shooting at her until the clip was empty. Your breathing was ragged and angry and worried. 

She fell to the ground. 

You knew she wouldn’t be down long. You had to leave. You had to lock her in this room and burn the place down. 

Chris did the thinking for you. He had your arm in his hand, dragging you past her and out of the room. He shut the door behind him, pushing down on the handle. He broke it. 

You stared at the clouded window and felt a pang of guilt mixed with anger. She was the reason you were here. Now she was going to die, infested by a virus that wasn’t her. 

You were still holding on to Chris. You might’ve stopped for a moment but now your hand was back on his arm, your brain blurry with thoughts. He looked down at you, eyes meeting. 

“Are you okay?” 

You didn’t think about kissing him. You just did it. 

Your lips were on his and it felt like home. It felt like you had never left, like you had kissed him yesterday and you would kiss him tomorrow. It was filled with the emotion of every single year you had been apart, by everytime you wondered if he was dead in a ditch, everytime you got drunk and swore not to think about him. 

His strong hands were so gentle when they held you. 

Though passionate, the kiss was short lasting. 

You pulled away and your eyes stayed shut for a moment, pretending you were home with him, like you had never left. Then they were open again and the nightmare remained. 

There was no regret in his eyes. There was no regret in yours. It was a mutual feeling, broken only by the duties of soldiers who had loved each other for a little too long. The bucket had overfilled and tipped over. 

“We have to find Ethan,” he reminded you. 

Ethan.

Guilt hit you like a truck. He could be dead. You looked forward, giving no other words to justify or break what had just happened. Chris let you be, let the kiss hang in the air. 

-

Ethan was not far. Chris had called for backup when you entered the ship and his friends arrived just in time. You helped Ethan finish off Eveline and were shot out of the ship, landing hard back in the outside world. Chris’s people carried you away in a helicopter as the nightmare of the Baker house erupted in flames. What had been a horror was now nothing but a burnt part of the map, something people would merely whisper about. 

Chris brought you back to where the BSAA had set up camp. 

You had a hand in Ethan’s. He looked exhausted. There was something off about the look in his eyes but you couldn’t place it and you didn’t feel like asking him about it. Questions like that came later, when you were less tired and more hydrated. 

“I’m sorry I lost the cars,” he muttered. He was sitting on the makeshift hospital bed. There was no one else there. People had gone to try and find Lucas, who had been lost in the fire and not confirmed dead. You were sitting in a chair beside him, in silence. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I’m sorry about Mia.” He took a deep breath. He did not tell you it was okay. 

“We’re gonna bring in the best medical help,” Chris explained. He watched as Ethan’s hand left yours. “Doctors are coming in right now to look you both over.”

“What about you?” you questioned. “You were in there, just the same as me.” 

“I’ll get looked at. I have to go with my team back in and find Lucus.” Your jaw hardened. 

“The work doesn’t end,” Ethan observed. He understood why you left. 

“By yourself?” you questioned. 

“I’m a big boy,” he promised you. You purse your lips, glancing at Ethan. You had no idea the world was this bad. You had no idea it had gotten so much worse since you left the job. 

“Let me go with you.” He shook his head. 

“Absolutely not.”

“No.” Him and Ethan spoke over each other. You gave Ethan a look. 

There was something in your eyes that he didn’t recognize. He wondered if he had lost you the second he left your house without telling you. Had that been the breaking point in your relationship? Did relationships survive things like this? 

Yours and Chris’s did, Ethan thought. You and Chris slipped back into each other like puzzle pieces. It was like no time had passed. No kind of ill will had come between the two of you, from the looks of it right then. Ethan wanted to desperately grab your hand, beg you to stay with him, tell you that he couldn’t afford to lose both you and Mia. Instead he watched your face as you looked at Chris. 

“I’m a big girl Chris.” 

“You’ve been out of the game for too long. You can’t just jump back in like this.”

“I just did. I have knowledge of the interior, we were just there Chris. It would be smarter to bring me.” Chris and you stared at each other with looks that Ethan could be envious of. Challenging, protective, loving. “Let me go back. Let me back in.” 

This life was like a drug. You could be gone forever but the second you could come back it was too addictive to stay away from. You stood up. 

“You’re the captain now hm? You tell them I can help. You know I can help.” You walked up to him. 

“I almost lost you back there.” He didn’t specify that it was the fight with Mia that had him particularly worried but you knew it was. You knew that he was also thinking about the kiss that happened right afterwards. 

It hadn’t left your mind. 

“Chris I’ll find my way back here either way,” you muttered. “There’s no use in trying to stop me.” 

If Ethan wasn’t there he would’ve kissed you. Instead he dipped his head. 

“Talk to your boyfriend about it.” You looked back at Ethan. Chris left the tent. You were left alone together for the first time since before the whole ordeal. Conflicted, you walked back to him. 

“Go,” he said, voice strong.

“Huh?” Ethan’s face was soft and understanding. 

“Go.” There was a beat of silence as you stared at him, trying to read his expression. He had just been through everything and was letting you go? “I know why you left this. But this is your life, isn’t it?” Your face scrunched into a hurt expression. 

“Not necessarily-”

“The only reason you left is because you wanted to prove a point to him. You proved your point.” 

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I want to go home. I want to take you with me. But I don’t think that’s what you want and that’s okay.” 

“Ethan-”

“It’s not what you want, right?” You remained quiet. You couldn’t argue with that. He was right. You wanted to stay here. You wanted to get back into a fight you had once been so passionate about. He nodded once. You weren’t sure if he was numb or in complete control. “Exactly.” He grabbed your hand. “I dragged you back into this the second I believed that email.” 

“But the house,” you whispered. 

“We’ll figure it out. Just go. Please.” You nodded curtly. 

“Okay,” you breathed. He wouldn't look at you. You got up slowly, wondering if this was really happening. You tried to tell yourself doing it now was for the best. This is the only outcome that would’ve made any sense. 

You left the tent.

“Oh shit.” You looked up. You were met with John Perlman, someone you used to work with. He was older now but had the same slanted smile. “The rumors are true.” 

“Perlman,” you breathed, laughing a bit. 

“How are you doin girl?” 

“I’m okay,” you said and you meant it. You were alright. You were gonna be alright. 

“I hear you’re going back to the tunnels with the boss,” he observed. “You back in it?” Your eyes searched for Chris. You found him in front of a different tent, grabbing a box of things. 

“I guess so.” “He kept all your things when you left,” Perlman explained. “I’m sure he’s still got ‘em. It’s nice to have you back.” He pat your back before walking past you. The short conversation ended. Chris approached you with the box.

“Well?” he asked. 

“I’m ready Cap.” He nodded once and then handed you what he was holding. You looked down in it. The Dragoon you had used for years sat at the top of the box. “You kept all this?” 

“Just in case.”

“You broke up with me, you know that?” you looked back up at him. 

“If you’re gonna be in this I’d rather you be in this with me.” He gave you a curt nod. “We had out in 15.” 

He started to walk away. 

“Wait! Wait Chris,” you called. You put the box down by your feet. He turned around just in time for you to throw your arms around him. You kissed him again, this time like you weren’t about to die. He held you tightly to him, comfortably. 

He’d be okay. You would be okay.

[cliffs-of-remembrance]

25 going on 26 - 22/10/23

I’m watching the sun as it slowly takes its last dip into the sea, the last sunset my 25 year old me will ever see. The last photons to hit my wrinkle-less face. A quarter of a century complete and yet still I ponder, unsure of where I’m going. Still looking at that endless horizon of blue wondering what will be next, If I’ll have the strength to withstand it or if it’ll be worth it at all. It’s strange and scary to think that starting from tomorrow, in less than 25 years I will be 50. It really makes me wonder, where did all the time go? It seems like yesterday when my mom sang my name from the top of the stairwell whenever I'd come home from school. I was 6, it was always spring and I was ignorant and happy. People tell me I should move on and leave the past behind, and though I’m certainly trying, It still feels like a sin to let go of all that was, when memories are the only thing I have left of it. All tangible proof lost, forgotten, trampled by the unforgiving passing of time. How do I cope with the though of every second lived, being a second that takes me further and further away from the child I was? From the people I loved despite the abuse? From the house I so dearly called home? I never got the chance to grow out of it and I still haven’t got the hang out of being an adult. I feel like I desperately need more time but even the sun won’t listen as I now see him disappearing behind the horizon. It’s evident that even he, has far better things to do than to hang around and wait for me. I guess someday I’ll figure this life out on my own but when exactly, I’ll never know.

[rom-e-o]

My Dearest (Ebenezer/Constance)

Constance finds forgotten love letters from Ebenezer in an old keepsake box. The only catch? He never sent them.

Story below cut. Rated PG-13.

The hall closet was close to overflowing.

Between housing an entire household full of bed linens and spare towels, the small storage unit was also filled with old ledgers and paperwork that had long since become irrelevant.

Staring at the mess was daunting at first, but Constance was nothing if not determined.

The woman donned a loose, wide-collard dress with worn boots to tackle the task. Magda, the house maid, was out running errands and Ebenezer was meeting with Tom Jenkins to discuss a loan necessary for an expansion for his ever-growing toy store.

While the house was empty, sans her and Prudence, Constance had decided to try and organize the chaotic space.

Ever since she and her husband had married, they’d set about revamping the house into a space that was more homey by filling the halls (formerly only adorned with stacks of bankbooks and filled ledgers) with actual furniture. Fresh paintings were hung, actual tables were put in the halls (“This is a credenza, and this is a folio cabinet, and this is a…”) and the towers of old office supplies had to be relocated somewhere new.

Until Scrooge could filter through all the documents and books that he had and determine what was okay to keep and what had to be burned, they had to be housed somewhere.

However, since beginning the process of trying for a baby, Constance felt the need to…organize. To sort. To create a nice, less chaotic space. Magda, who had lived through multiple pregnancies of her own, had said she was ‘nesting’, but Constance found the term oddly primal. She was a woman, not a bird (regardless of what the neighborhood boys who catcalled her said.)

Did her desire to make a closet pretty make her no better than a magpie searching through twigs for shiny objects?

“Hm…is this a waste of time?” she mused aloud.

Prudence, who sat beside her before the closet, turned her large head and huffed. The reply was nondescript and offered no tangible feedback, but it comforted her, nonetheless.

“I think it’ll be helpful!” Constance supplied, flashing the pup a bright grin. “Yes! Of course, cleaning a space is always a good use of time! You’re right! Thank you, Prudence.”

Not entirely sure what she’d done, but never one to refuse praise, the mastiff barked happily and thumped her tail against the walnut floors.

“Okay,” Constance said, taking a piece of lace from her pocket and using it to move her hair up and out of her face. She pulled the ends of the elegant fabric taut until her hair was secured in a high ponytail. “Let’s got to work.”

And get to work, she did.

By the time the home’s grandfather clock struck noon, she’d amassed all of the items from the closet into three main piles; paperwork, linens, and miscellaneous. The last and largest category was the most worrisome. It included an array of things from broken candlesticks (“Why did he keep these?”) to old shoeboxes filled with dice, jacks and an old flier for some performer named Lottie Milligan. Perhaps a friend of his? She shrugged and put it back for safe keeping. There was even a set of blackened paintbrushes that reeked of turpentine, and a golden hair ribbon that Constance quickly folded up and stored away safely.

“I never would have pegged a man with so little furniture to be a hoarder of knickknacks,” Constance told Prudence, who sniffed each and every item with intrigue. “Hmmm…are these things sentimental, Prudence? They were buried pretty deep in the closet…and the box was covered in dust. I wonder if he even remembers that he has these things.”

The mastiff sniffed said box, then sneezed up an impressive cloud of dust.

“Perhaps I should let him go through the rest of this,” she realized. “I’m not about to throw anything away. Well, except the actual trash.”

Ripped curtains and broken vases that she assumed his frugal self had stored away with the intention to fix and obviously never had.

“Well, we made a little progress,” Constance said, picking up one of the piles of linens. “Let’s get these washed, and then I’ll make us some lunch, okay?”

Prudence let out an excited bark.

“Haha, right, then! Let me just—”

As she carried the hefty pile down the hall to a washing tub, she heard the fluttering of something fall and land on the floor behind her. Upon turning around, she discovered that a small scrap of paper had fluttered free from the pile of fabric. Thinking it was an old bank note or receipt, she sat down the laundry to get it and discard it. Right before she could crumple the paper up and put it with the remainder of the trash, she noticed a familiar script on the front.

It was Ebenezer’s handwriting.

In that script, an even more familiar name was written.

To: Constance DoGoode

The woman blinked. “Is this…a letter to me?”

Prudence walked up and sniffed the note briefly, an inquisitive sound burbling in her throat. She lifted her ears slightly, as if to tell the redhead, “Beats me, gal. Give it a look!”

Should she?

Had he given her a sweet note, and her clumsiness or ditziness had resulted in her missing it? Or, had he written something for her and misplaced it? Perhaps he’d even forgotten about it. Hell’s bells, she was more than guilty of that. She’d lost everything from grocery lists to entire tea bags sometimes depending on how many pockets she had.

The note was unsealed, so it was easy to unfold and read.

Dear Constance, Although I know you’ll likely never read this note, I feel compelled to address you with the respect a fine woman such as yourself deserves. Perhaps, in a way, writing to you will help siphon out some of these sentiments that keep rattling like chains in my head. Even as I write this, you’re just a few halls away, but I swear I can feel you. Hear you. I want to do both. Please forgive me for thinking such perverse things. I do hope this mood will soon pass, for I would be remorse to be such a disappointment to you. You deserve more than that. You deserve more than me. Sincerely, Ebenezer January, 1856

Once the initial wave of awe-induced shock passed, she noted the date at the bottom.

He’d written the note about a month after she’d moved to London. A month after he’d offered her a job, rescued her from living off the streets, and helped her escape her marriage to her abusive ex-husband.

During that time in their budding romance, they’d shared many kisses. On what they’d thought would be their last night together, they laid together chastely. Clothes had been removed and skin had been touched, but…nothing more. Even so, she blushed at the memory. The tension in the air as he kissed down the valley of her breasts, the roar of his heart as he rolled beneath her and hauled her into a manly embrace that nearly seared her nerves numb. The intimate feeling of parting her legs and allowing him to lay in-between them, wrapping her body around him and trying to hold back her tears as she committed as many details about him as possible into memory. They had both thought that night would be the last time they ever saw each other.

“Did he…”

The sound of another bark lured her from the daydream. Looking over to Prudence, she found the lady had produced two more pieces of paper from one of the shoeboxes. The familiar balsam cologne had led her to the small discoveries, which Ebenezer had clearly shoved out of sight.

My dear Constance, I find myself at a loss for words as I sit down to pen this letter. I have cherished our time together, every moment, every conversation, every smile, and every shared laughter. Even the simple brush of our hands is pure euphoria; addiction in a caress. It is here that I confess something that I have been hiding from you, a secret that has been eating away at me from within. I am deeply and irrevocably in love with you. You are the sun that brightens my darkest days, and the stars that guide me through the night. Your kindness, your intelligence, and your beauty have ensnared my heart in a way I never thought possible. Yet, with this confession comes a heavy burden of guilt. I cannot help but feel that I am not worthy of your love. I am a man with a past riddled with mistakes and regrets, and I fear that my presence in your life will only bring you pain and sorrow. You deserve better than me, someone who can offer you the love and happiness you truly deserve. My heart longs to be yours, to hold you close and cherish you for all eternity. But I know that I must find the strength to let go of these feelings, for they can only lead to heartache for us both. I must strive to be the friend you need, the confidante you can trust, and nothing more. Constance, please understand that writing this letter is not an easy task for me. My feelings for you are so overwhelming that I find it hard to put them into coherent words. Yet, I hope that by sharing this with you, I can find the courage to move on and accept that my love for you is not meant to be. You are a treasure, Constance, a rare and precious gem. Please do not let my inability to reciprocate these feelings tarnish the beauty of what we have. I will always cherish our friendship, and I will be by your side, supporting and cheering you on in all your endeavors. May your life be filled with love, happiness, and all the blessings that you deserve. Yours sincerely, Ebenezer

Had he…never intended to reveal his feelings? She stared at the note, dumbstruck temporarily as her eyes focused and unfocused, trying to keep a wave of impromptu tears at bay.

My dearest Connie, I’m still in shock that I can address you as such. The fact that you accepted my love…and that I am courting you, it still feels like a dream. As I sit here, pen in hand, listening to you and Magda laugh away in the kitchen, I’m…stuck trying to find the words to express the depths of my feelings for you, I realize that no mere ink on paper could ever do justice, but I must try. Forgive my lack of poetic instinct or practice. You have brought a light into my life that I never knew was possible, and each day spent with you is a treasure I cherish more than words can say. Constance, you have become the center of my universe. You bring joy to every room you enter, and your smile is a beacon of hope in even the darkest of times. With you, I have found a love that knows no bounds, a love that fills my days with warmth and my nights with dreams of a future spent together. I have purchased a ring, a symbol of the love and commitment I wish to offer you. My heart beats with excitement and nerves, for I plan to ask you the most important question of my life: Will you marry me, Constance? Asking for your hand in marriage is a moment I have envisioned countless times, and with each thought, my heart races with anticipation. The thought of spending my days with you as my wife, building a life together, and growing old side by side fills me with an overwhelming sense of joy. Constance, you have brought so much love and happiness into my life, and I want nothing more than to give you all the love and care that you deserve. I promise to cherish you, to support you, and to be your steadfast partner in all the joys and challenges that life may bring. I eagerly await the moment when I can see the joy in your eyes as I offer you my heart and this ring, a symbol of my commitment and devotion. With all the love in my heart, Ebenezer

“Constance?”

Tears she hadn’t realized she’d started crying fell from her eyes and spotted the paper in her hands.

Looking up, she saw Ebenezer standing just a few feet from her, having just crested the top of the entryway stairs. In the midst of her reading, she hadn’t heard her husband come in.

He stared at her in concern, clutching mail in one still-gloved hand, while his opposite arm curled at an angle to hold the coat draped over his forearm. His eyes, warm like freshly thawed dew, immediately noted the odd expression on her face.

“Are you alright?” he asked, then saw her tears. Mail forgotten, he discarded in and his coat on the hall table and advanced toward her, arms open in gentle invitation.

Constance darted toward with without another word, hugging him with ferocious tightness. Her arms circled his torso, and her face found a notch between his cravat and waistcoat lapel.

“Now, now…come here,” he cooed softly, skilled hands rubbing up and down her back, as if her tears could be massaged away by his touch. In this instant, he couldn’t have been more correct, and she sank into his body with the willingness of a snake being charmed by a flute.

“S-Sorry…” she apologized, sniffling despite her embarrassment. “I-I just…”

A quick glance over her shoulder revealed that Prudence had nudged the discarded note back into the pile she’d created for Ebenezer to sort through. Things that might be too precious or important for the man to throw away.

Sucking in a quick breath, she turned back to Ebenezer and met his gaze with renewed love.

“Just what, love?” he asked, cocking his head, eyes boring into her with a comforting curiosity. “Talk to me, dearest Connie. Tell me what ails you.”

Dearest Connie.

“I…just was organizing some things,” she said, fingertips rising to sweep tears from her darkened lashes. Once her eyes were dry, she angled her gaze back up at him. “Nothing ails me. These are happy tears.”

“Happy tears?” he asked, not skeptical but not convinced either. “But, love, why are you crying?”

“Because I love you,” Constance said, then broke down and rushed into his arms again. “I love you so, so much…I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh.” His voice cracked at the admission, and she felt his chest decompress as a rush of air left his lungs. He almost felt as if he was decompressing around her.

Then, she felt a cocoon of warmth and lemony cologne as his embrace surrounded her, its sultry effects only amplified by the pressure of his taller, wider frame, and the warmth of his familiar form that she could feel even with layers of fabric dividing them.

His next words came out as dreamy sighs. “Oh, Connie.”

“Promise me you’ll never leave me.”

He tightened his grip.

“Never, dearest.”

Thank you supporters! <3

@quill-pen @ray-painter @crimson-phantom-designs

[waitmyturtles]

Alllllright, a quick and dirty late review of the BELOVED show, Bed Friend, episode 8, which I referenced yesterday as getting just BETTER and BETTER with each ticking minute. A warning in advance that I am dizzyingly jet-lagged, so this may be non-sensical at times, but just roll with me, because:

IT WAS A GREAT EPISODE. Like I said in the comments of the post linked above, god, this episode had so much! I love the beach-vacay-and-temple-shots trope. I love that King jetted to see Uea. I love that they reconciled. I LOVE THAT WE GOT TO SEE FAMILY THAT LOVES UEA. I love King’s thirst for revenge -- we didn’t even SEE Krit in this episode, buh-bye! I love King’s desire to continue to make things right for Uea vis à vis the private investigator.

King didn’t just say that he’d take care of Uea. He is showing the hell up and doing the job, and damn. Yes, yes, he’s gotta channel that repressed energgyyyyy somehow, heh, but no, seriously. 

King’s in love with Uea. And I love how this show showed that development, and shows how committed King IS to Uea. While the plot is complicated, and full of STUFF -- King’s commitment to Uea is UNCOMPLICATED. It’s piercing through our hearts. He’s a man in love, and he’s gonna do shit for the man he loves, period. 

Geez. I so didn’t expect this from this show (as @wen-kexing-apologist noted in their review of episode 8 -- the seriously complicated plot at the start of the series made me wonder if this script was going to weakly solve everything with Uea just falling in love and being like, ooooh, everything’s great now). I didn’t expect that the very uncomplicated DRIVE by King to dig into Uea’s issues and help him problem-solve through his past would be the ultimate anchor for this series. 

I fucking LOVE that this show spun me for a loop. In a little bit of a Bad Buddy-ish way -- it took a player trope, the image of a player, and totally spun it on its head. King is weak for Uea. The kind of power that we think a player would have -- welp, King is using that kind of power instead to help Uea resolve real and tangible issues. 

I love that Lampang serves as a place of respite for Uea. I love that he has that, in physicality, and that King met him there. I love that it becomes, through Uea’s aunt and Uea, a place of love for Uea. We know he fucking deserves that.

I love seeing Uea fall for King. The corner smiles, the teasing, the silent giggling. The intimate confessions at the table near the kitchen (love all the implications of sitting at a place that means so much to making a HOME together, à la Kinou Nani Tabeta). 

I FREAKING LOVE LOVE LOVE THE COMPANY TEAM, Y’ALL. JADE AND GUN AND THE LADIES, come awn! Jade = MVP, one of the best.

This isn’t so much of an analytical review (I can’t muster the energy right now) as it is more of a love letter to how this show has fucking just held. its. own. against a tremendously complicated plot line. In particular, as many have mentioned, especially @bengiyo‘s stray thoughts, it was SO IMPORTANT, SO SO SO IMPORTANT, to see Uea take meds and talk about how receiving mental health care is helping him get through his days (@bengiyo, I’m also curious about the question you pose about survivors being offered mental health care at their companies -- as someone in the social services, that strikes me as a good idea, but I wonder if survivors have other interpretations, particularly related to privacy and labor retention, and the company avoiding harassment lawsuits).

In other words, this episode simply had everything. It doesn’t reach the Bad-Buddy-episode-10 echelon by way of both acting AND writing, but damn, did it ever close a hell of a lot of loops in a very convincing way.

And we get more next week. With all props to @wen-kexing-apologist: #pransdaddarktimeline edition looks like it closes out (and I HOPE that fucking mom GETS HERS TOO, pardon my franche). And a new guy in Uea’s life... this show keeps throwing curves, but now I trust that it’ll be handled well. 

[wickedlysecret]

(I just had an idea for an interaction between Hunter and Camila while the TOH kids are trapped in the human realm together, and I ended up cranking this out yesterday afternoon. I just have a lot of feelings about Hunter and Luz as family, and Camila loving these kids who fell into her lap.....)

....

Luz was hooking the hose up to a garden sprinkler in the yard, animatedly chattering about the concept of “playing in the sprinkler”, and how it wasn’t just a garden tool, as Willow, Gus, and Amity listened with rapt attention, and Vee chimed in with her own newly-gained knowledge. Hunter, meanwhile, stood in the doorway, watching from afar. Observing.

Guarding….

“It’s so nice to see Luz like this again,” came Camila’s voice from behind him. Had it been anyone other than Luz’s mom, he might’ve jumped, but Hunter had long since adapted to the woman’s constant, caring presence.

“I’m sure you missed her while she was in the Demon Realm, yeah,” Hunter agreed, nodding absently.

“I mean, yes, I certainly did, but… well, that’s not quite what I meant.”

Hunter blinked, then finally turned to gaze with confusion at Camila, wordlessly prompting her to continue. She hadn’t looked at him yet, her eyes locked on her daughter and her friends, a fond, wistful smile curving her lips.

“Before Manny passed, she could always be this bright at home with us. Our little light,” she chuckled. “I know she struggled to make friends at school, but always kept her head up. After her dad left us, though… I think it got harder for her to stay afloat. I saw her sinking before my eyes, and I didn’t know what to do. She retreated into all the things her father and I loved, and loved about her, but that… that I knew would make her life harder.”

Camila sighed, shutting her eyes as she slumped against the other side of the door frame. “That’s why I signed her up for that camp. I’m glad I have both my kids now, of course, and I wouldn’t change that outcome for anything. But I wish I’d better understood what Luz needed. Even now, I’m not quite sure what it is she needs, other than that she found it in all of you.”

Hunter watched Camila, then turned back to look at the scene in front of them; Luz had powered on the hose, and revealed the sprinkler to be broken, presumably from age and lack of use. It now sputtered and gushed water all over the teens in the yard, prompting squeals and laughter as Luz weaponized the spray to soak her friends and herself alike.

“I don’t think she knows what she wants or needs, herself,” he admitted softly. “I… I don’t think I really knew how much she’d struggled before she came to the Isles. She always seemed like she knew what she was doing, like she was flourishing. It… it didn’t occur to me that she’d ever been… not like that.”

Camila opened her eyes again, turning her gentle smile to Hunter. “That’s how it goes, baby. You meet someone, enter each others’ lives, and you never get to see their before, only their after. You only see what they show you, unless you reeeally go looking.”

Hunter breathed a laugh, still watching Luz. “Luz is really good at that. At looking past what you try to show her.”

“She really is, isn’t she?” The pride warming Camila’s eyes as she watched her daughter was tangible. “It’s probably why she’s good at hiding what she doesn’t want others to see. I’m glad she has all of you to keep that in check, for her. I’m learning that there’s only so much a mother can do for her children.”

Then Hunter did jump, startled as Camila slapped a hand against his back and urged him into the yard. “And what I’m learning I can do for you, baby, is reminding you that it’s summer and your job right now is to have fun. So go have fun with your friends!” A touch of mischief flashes through her eyes. “If you pinch the hose, it’ll stop the water. She’ll probably look at the sprinkler before the hose, and you’ll be able to soak her if you let it go.”

[only-lonely-lovers]

09.19.2022

tags: bondage, spanking, fingering mouth/throat, facefucking, bodysharing, rough sex

Bird is あ / Avvy is つ

つ：Ah it’s too funny to subject amane to the weird differences in his mind between nene and tsukasa. You’d hope some day he’d kinda appreciate tsukasas agreeableness and even be like, I wanna. Test run something I wanna do with Yashiro. Like some real goons mood of it all like I need to practice tying these ropes and see if it’ll hold and I WILL sulk for 5 days if I try it with Yashiro and I fuck up . But tsukasa idgaf. If he falls from the shiddy ropepulley or comes undone I will just be like sigh

あ：Lmaoo this is like peak shennanies yes… This is like the, ah, accepting that you can't "fail" with Tsukasa

つ：Almost like rehearsal with tsukasa. You can get frustrated with the knots and stuff if you want. And ask him to wriggle around. But like Amane trying to rehearse some bits even running dialogue. He has tsukasa gagged though like don’t say anything you’ll break my immersion for this ok

But like one day going to be doing this and like get too into the dom boyfriend mindset and like smack his ass but then feel like. Didn’t like that. Don’t like that I did that to tsukasa fsr

あ：the TANGIBLE silence

つ：I’m fine with calling him good girl as part of the rehearsal but I need to go stand on the roof About this one Them both still like we both know somehow it was weird

あ：It's like he smacked Tsukasa's ass and Tsukasa made a noise just from the impact. fucking dead silence after

つ：And just an earnest moment of impatience. The problem was it wasn’t part of the rehearsal

あ：I got my dom jeans on too hard

つ：You did it in the manner to which you’d bop tsukasa Like ugh stop the wiggling SMACK then was like . N just walks out. Nene walks into the bathroom later tsukasa tied up like hiiiiii Amane left💔

あ：Sometimes I like to think Tsukasa is like [I do not see it 😑] [for Amane's sake]

つ：I know he is awkies

あ：so funny to think about Tsukasa in moments like this. i think sometimes he is also like I'm sorry❤️ i have aboner statistically sometimes you're doing stuff and it's like. gomen ne

つ：Tsukasa doesn’t have to feel it was weird but just feels like. Ohp! Amane doesn’t usually do tha I know it Waits for his response

It is always like well I like anythiiiinggg But that’s the problem too Sorryyy I not supposed to like it💔 I will be quiet thooooo Kicks legs on bathroom floor alone. Sings a song

あ：🎶oh well It's so funny to think about rehearsing dialogue, the things that you're not ready to feel right or wrong. you know I think sometimes Amane must enjoy something but then be like wait. i actually dont like that it wasnt awkward no winning either way Saying good girl does feel pretty innocuous, this is neutral territory

つ：It’s rough. Also if you come during the rehearsal sometimes it’s fun sometimes you hate that you came Trying to deliver a line and nut. Just get quiet

あ：but I think it might get kinda like. dicey when its like. I'm going to fuck your pussy so hard girl

つ：I THINK ITS FUNNYYYY But. Like

Sometimes amane is like; this is a cool time to come well punctuated by the scene, immersed, delivered a line have “her” set up. If it happened like this I’m ready to go. Other times it’s shameful And your own brain knows when you’re in the roleplay VS unable to shake the Meta of tsukasa and responding to any part of that. It’s not wrong to nut about tsukasa but it’s like STAY ON TASK.

Like mmgggher i wanna nut about you or Yashiro intentionally I don’t like feeling out of control BUT I NEED THE REHEARSAL IM IMPRESSINg YASHIRO SOOO MUCH LATELY ITS SO USEFUL!!

You do imagine Yashiro is getting the most stellar 5 star insanely streamlined experiences He is an expert. At the knots He is smooth at transitions. He flubs no lines. He looks inhumanly incredible. At domination

She is floored. She is a puddle every time. It just makes him more insane about embellishing and like I NEEDSD TO OVERCOME THE SHAMEFUL MOMENTS!! (On ground) I need to be the coolest boyfriend for my whore gf

あ：like UMGHH i need the pay out… tfw you want to be really impressive lmaoo like ugh but i need it i need it.. i need her to feel like her whole mind is being fucked with… you could never handle how capable i am

つ：I like tsukasa doing this all having a grand time having fun and then at the end amane IS like ahh good job. That went well I think I’m ready. Let’s tsukasa clean off cock with mouth while amane unties the ropes and shuffles them into sleeves

If there’s ever a day you’re caught it’d be like. You’re going to have to ask yourself. Would you rather tell Yashiro, that, This is practice, and reveal that you practice and ruin the illusion of the seamless dom. Or let Yashiro think you just call Tsukasa good girl and tie him up for your own private reasons between the two of you.

Do not like these. Sleeps you Tsukasa we are going to lie to Yashiro I am going to put her at her desk with her books and make it like she fell asleep doing homework on the classroom Ok She had a dream. GRABS FACE. okay?

あ：looking at tsukasa like this PUPIL MOVES DOWNWARDS

つ：hai.

When Yashiro comes back you are just playing cards Nailed it…. saved the day

あ：I hope there are moments… that are more like seamless and wordless. still tinged w strangeness, but also the kind that Amane can glide past. Like ah… simply running hand over Tsukasa's chest, simulating a grope, and Tsukasa wordlessly curving his spine to push into the touch a bit, trying to be like -- oh yes yes, nene-chan's chest… [trying to assist]

Tsukasa being a good mimic… in reality, being able to recall how Nene typically moves or poses and try and further assist Amane in his little roleplay. he wants to mentally prepare so… I will help Amane by doing Nene-chan like things

つ：It’ll be just nice when it isn’t goon time. He’s good at it Letting my mind run for 2 minutes was like aaaaaaa the (glass floor shatters under me) So I’m making peace with that and getting unembarrassed I’ll have my little notepad here in a second. I just want it known none of my thoughts were my intent

あ：[cooing sounds] come here sweetheart fall into the gap with me.

つ：Uuuuoooo the gap Well the final thought.

Amane frustrated and done with avoiding anything— why shouldn’t he have complete indulgence? Wouldn’t tsukasa like anything? Can’t he just shut him up if he makes a single sound he doesn’t like? Searingly embarrassing to confront a single thought at all, but once he indulges one action they fall like dominoes.

Tsukasa laid over lap, irregular, hooks fingers in mouth, effectively gags him before starting to hit with his other hand. Feeling tsukasas fangs bite down. Going on a little crazy litany. Like you’re convenient, cuz I can go as hard as I want. There is more brutality in the motion, and the fingers in his mouth are resentful in their touch— pissed off at Tsukasa for reducing him to wanting this, for being tempting. All conveys in unforgiving motions.

Gets… insane. Slurs out that he wishes tsukasa had a pussy, so he could finger fuck it between hits. Gotta settle for your mouth. Fingers mouth aggressively, shoves to throat. Bleary state of mind…. To be able to confront such a thought, gotta be so mad to have been made to have it. Crane Tsukasa’s spine backwards by hooking around his teeth and dragging him up, to glare at him… wanna squint at while administering impact. Understand how pissed I am, don’t get it twisted. Amane can feel his own wrists muscle memory itching to switch to the fingering motions, it almost makes him wanna whine….

Ssso accustomed to the back and forth, smack smack, grope slide in, wiggle wiggle, his fingers keep twitching. Just frustrates him!!! It’s not fair, to have these conflicting urges!!! It shouldn’t mix at all! Actually tsukasa SHOULDNT remind me of anything… just stomp his foot under everything restlessly. What useless urges!!!

Finally throws tsukasa off, kicks him (he’s bound, arms) til his back hits the wall of the bathroom, then drags him up by the hair, plants a hand on the wall, and reaaaally facefucks him against the wall, breathing into the tile. A very ah… legs spread apart, stance, shoving.

Finish. Out of breath… lean against a stall panting. Feeling like a demon was exorcised. No ability to think, just buzzing. Teeth marks around knuckles, looks at those…. sighs.

Tsukasa is a little sickle shape on the floor cuz of being tied up still, fell over after amane stopped holding him up. Eye contact…. Sustained. A lidded and dark-eyed tsukasa panting…. amane, too. Weird moment. Tsukasa drooling come, licking his teeth. See you… something different happened. Amane finally only feels: and? So what. You made something different come out. You just do that. You know you do.

あ：Anyways… I just really enjoy the sheer selfishness of a scenario like this — an instance where, the very conceit of it all is already Tsukasa being really gracious, more than the average person would be. Lots of people would have at least some insecurities with being enlisted to RP/do practice for your Other Partner… It's unique that Tsukasa feels no sense of competition or inadequacy, he is just here to help. Ready to lay there and be acted upon as needed.

So… for Amane to then get frustrated and take things out on Tsukasa… as if it's Tsukasa's fault for inducing the desire in his heart, like "ugh, how dare you do this to me"… It's so shitty, but one does go SIGH it's Amane's appeal isn't it… That even while being catered to and accommodated wholly, he'll get agitated about his own feefees… his own arousal… Huff huff.. Having a cock just makes you feel weak, so often, and Amane doesn't like feeling weak to it. I think it's so simple like… hate feeling cock twitch about this or that, stupid leaky thing jumping about things it wasn't mean to. Hate your vision blurring… hate breath getting heavier and words slurring, where they shouldn't.

Ugh but yeah as I mentioned earlier, I've thought about being as selfish as to finally growl about, like, "UGH, if you had a pussy…" I think this would just make Tsukasa's head spin, like what-? not a thought in his little head. Amane feeling this-? What's he saying-?? [trying to focus, but being wailed on]

つ：It’s too fantastical!!!! Like he’s in a dream

あ：One of those thoughts that almost seems too abstract you know…

つ：He wants to do more to you than he even can….?

あ：Could never remotely think such a thought! i like this time Avvy worded it like, tsukasa's emotions being "but I'm Tsukasa". ww….

つ：So simple I am a fixed thing! You know a tsukasa Blurring Nene emotions towards him….. sooooo interesting!!!

あ：The way Tsukasa doesn't ah think conventionally, well you might as well complain about him not having an animal body part, wings or something… In terms of how, it's all equally fantastical right

つ：Amane is so distinct and exact and unchanging to tsukasa, it can’t work in the other direction. Nothing in common to mingle between amane and nene Brother and his gf! Different

あ：Entire islands

つ：Fun to grope nene, nothing to blur here

あ：The idea that Amane could be restless and wishing for something like that… in the middle of it all… I do like Tsukasa having to register twitchy hands or something, or feel how he's acting upon his mouth the same way he would pussy, fingering it…

つ：He is having impossible dreams…. Wahhhh💞💓

あ：Amane's frustrated expression… brows pinched… such sharp gaze

つ：All so tense, despite that amane is releasing something…

あ：The idea that... he wants more, than your mouth... it just seems dizzying... like getting facefucked with this all in mind

つ：When I thought about uhm… well for one really like— yeah….. the. Lost my train of thought but that was one of them

I was hooked on the crassness of “settle for your mouth” directly correlating, and then proceeding to facefuck SO hard. I thought about Tsukasa’s head really hitting the wall sometimes if amane pulling away pulls him forward, just doesn’t care. Donk donk

Wanting his head pinned between him and the wall so he can really drive it deep and grind towards throat…. want tightness of throat around.

あ：The sheer harshness and lack of consideration… chasing something, like trying to scratch an itch. it's so oppressive

つ：Noooo room for lackadaisical bobbing dick around open mouth jumps to wanting throat as closer analog

あ：sigh i do like it all… like, harsh driving into… coming down throat like this… and tsukasa left to topple onto the ground after….. one of those things that would make nene really reel to watch

つ：understand. The dynamic of murderer and victim

あ：You can see how it escalated. so much

つ：oeuuoruhgh but i have bene like ah…. m. ah I feel like amane's sentiments and clear restlessness would make tsukasa feel frenzied in back of mind…. his chessmaster little brain like i have to…. help… i was thinking about tsukasa one day just ah. suddenly SLEEPing Nene when she come into the bathroom and then immediately booting her out of her body like gomen ne. but immediately bending her over and spreading and beseeching amane to have what he wants and it would be like fkksdlf;kl;FJKG;SJGKL; OKAY. but i want nene to wake up like. really quickly bc tsukasa didn't actually do a deeper spell on her

i like to think you can control the intensity of it, if you just brief sleep blip or you truly conk them out for hours can't be roused. anyway i like nene on the ceiling 'coming to' like what happened. STARING AT HANAKO FUCKING YOUR BDOY SOOOO HARD

which is like jfc this is fucking!!!! hot and sexy!!! BUT I WONDER UNDERSTAND IT. but then he's rambling insanely to tsukasa obviously and you're like [pin drops] theyre using my body to have sex with each other [pause] this is fucking… HOT AND SEXTY and hanako does not know she woke up lol

あ：I'm sooo the pussy in the room… the asset nene just feeling like. smug about it klfdjghdfjkld (edited)

つ：its also liek: i knew it. they want to fuck so hard i have known all ALONG i'm really helping them come to terms with something

あ：becomes nene-sama mentally

つ：its also like; it must be so hard… hanako is straight

she is nene-sama on the ceiling benevolent entity like…. mmm. i have provided… the promised. the coveted. a solution for you two….

going to jerk off about this for months. oh the visual of your own body being plowed, hot. getting to see you x hanako from a distance: we are so hot he moves hot, he moves body hot. he is so rude.

あ：Having unwoke brain is so useful though isnt it, she can just feel so simple about it in a way i think-? like "ah of course its a problem, hanako-kun is so into girls… but he loves tsukasa-kun so much… and of course, tsukasa-kun would want to do anything hanako-kun would want…"

つ：tsukasa-kun is very clever, how did he come up with this….

あ：seeing it as tragic but in the romanticized way like star-crossed lovers almost. like awww

>oh the visual of your own body being plowed, hot. getting to see yuo x hanako from a distance: we are so hot

I do think it is this. ahhh and how euphoric, to feel so.. like… made hotter in tandem… underneath him… your body is pure sex

つ：i think its also like,inspiring, to hear tsukasa not muffle anything and make w/e sounds in her voice, lol. she's like ah gosh…. i always am embarrassed to make noises. but its hot actually

i need to go harder. tsukasa is just like thrashing back into hanako's cock and drooling and making sounds. nene is like wow . watching a porno starring me

あ：Tsukasa being in there, I'm sure even makes it easier to feel fondness, like, you'd never want to think of Tsukasa as homely or something, he's not unattractive in there

つ：and then hanako is being. rougher. than usual. so it all feels like. jesus. so extreme

あ：aint no frumpy girl

つ：nooo this isnt a cringe frumpy girl being fucked…. suddenly you are just a slut for hanako's cock. the body obviously loves hanako's cock a lot it feels very good. facts

あ：benevolent nene-sama also is like, ah i am granting tsukasa-kun the gift of feeling pussy stuffed with cock…. it feels so good doesn't it tsukasa-kun…. [wipes tear]

つ：i think theres a. funny quality of the 2 boys being together where they can-- lgkjfkl be boys moreso, hanako at least, i really think he's got a certain laxness around tsukasa so i like to think when he comes he just like groans inelegantly its my brother so i'm casual. might as well be jerking off

あ：not putting on all that flair. you know me.

つ：a bit more boorish.

あ：not doin it up for a girl… its different

つ：needs to be like something like that happens where hanako sortof is just way too hair down and nene is like. wait. he 100% doesn't know i'm awake

[thought for a second this was the plan] [but realizes she's awake by incident maybe, or tsukasa-kun's decision wthout telling hanako]

あ：😶...

つ：the gracelessness needs to be so like. groaaans. rests hand on hip/ass junction for a second like whewww… siighs…. fans self with hat lolls head to the side

obviously not… performative. too casual. groans and bumps. is like mmm tsukasa stay like this a little longer i wanna go again… in a minute…. sounding like 2 kids.

あ：Unbuttons my gakuran jacket and peels it off, stretches

つ：while still cock in

あ：Yes

つ：nene seeing hanako w no jacket is liek KLFSDJ;FLDSJKGL; youre like scared hes gonna pull his pants all the way down

あ：screams fjksdghf like oh god feeling like she's hiding in the rafters

つ：hanako just stretching and closing his eyes a minute and tsukasa peeks at nene and winks

あ：

つ：EYEBOLLS

あ：it even works that this is a sex cutscene SEEING SEX.

つ：yes SEE

あ：Tsukasa really like ………. [places finger over lips]❤️ it would be so uOUH wiggles my fingers. blows you a kiss

つ：Hanako is mentally like mmmmmmmmm mating press next. [using porno terms in brain] feeling loose limber feeling good mmmm. rubbing thumbs around tsukasa's lower back for a bit.

あ：tabe houdai all you can eat going to flip you like you are livestock

つ：i actually think an incredibly funny thing to do would be be like mmmgmmmhh wait…. snaps my fingers puts nene's body in your kimono and hakama

あ：psychofink but they literally can do shit like this Procure me the set dressings

つ：also makes tsukasa like. aougfg… ,fdjsfkl [stars spinning around head]

あ：hanako really would be likea uhghh finally. tits and pussy under all this whore fabric

つ：that is what i waaaaant

あ：It feels so multi-concept… like ah amane can really think about me clothes? like dis… wow Despite everything i do not think nene is ready to watch mating press just happen to her body like jesus

つ：folds you in half it takes until this for her to be like: wait this is going to hurt my body physically!!!

oh I think Hanako is so fucking disgusting at this second round…. like folds and the position would put pressure on everything so the. come inside would just ooze out and he'd be like ooooo

smears it around pussy with his hand holds legs back with one hand. smears come around with the other

あ：enters gnasty mode... god yeah. swirls my fingers near the entrance

つ：just openly: you know. I try to be more polite, for yashiro. she's just a girl, you know…. you can't be too much all at once…. even though she's….. 'you know' we'll get there.. [pleasantly wistful] of course

あ：It's nice to get a taste though…. mm

つ：tsukasa wiggles legs. hanako just licks down the calf

あ：oh its time to activate me creepy thing

つ：hanako is like siiiiigh ahh feels good rubs thighs indulgently

あ：[closes eyes] tsukasa don't say anything. [just takes legs and presses foot to sternum, strokes hand down along calf, thigh... rubs knees weirdly]

つ：nene is like. i'm getting a little frustrated hey…. why are you….

あ：hey.

つ：why dont you just go have sex with your brother in my body again. enough with this commentary

あ：we don't like the interlude the audience is leaving poor reviews so funny to be like wait let me be a little leg creep for a sec. ahhh

つ：oh but its not all bad at least. in his shirt. also he's so much less with the decorum (saying a lot not like he has a ton on average) just cock out

あ：the smell reaches teh ceiling

つ：you're tempered.

あ：our bond lets me smell your spectral cock even though i am out of body

つ：thats the bond

あ：the porno resumes, as hanako just rubs soft cock against pussy, smearing come… jerks off against. uehh that sort of… like lazily just pulling foreskin back and forth, instead of having a whole hand wrapped around the length or something, a few fingers along the tip

つ：finally is like ahh ok ok…. fiddles with hakama in fingers too. kimono, during. basically stims with it while doing this liking the tandem of tsukasa's outfit and the pussy. mmmm

あ：i think nene though could also be privy to the boys familiary making them so simple abt commentary like. ah yashiro's voice… 's nice… and tsukasa being like yes it is… hehe

つ：[wistful, loving] she's a little shy about making sounds… ah but you know, people can hear her, she thinks about that too…. hehe….

あ：when nene is overhearing hanako talk about her cup size with kou and just puts a hand by her ear about it

つ：she wants to hear the boytalk

あ：overhear these dirty story boys [husking] but wouldn't it just be hot, if people had to hear her clearly being fucked… and loving it.

つ：ahhhh…. closes eyes, sighs. alright… thats enough. are you ready, tsukasa…..? lol, just kidding [SHOVES knees back]

mmmmm, maybe I should be more careful… mmm~~ no, no~ I think Yashiro's body can handle it….

it's her mind that's not ready… [wistful, pleasant, my little virgin] but her body's ready for anything…

あ：Such a receptive body. so wanting, really. ahh it's hard to say no to it, again and again… [fetish for whore body oozing out] I think Hanako is the type to feel quietly tested by pussy still being so wet and limber.. when the walls really still feel so receptive to the pounding. it's hard to not just take it as "she still needs it"

つ：this is all good proof that nene could always use some more, ahh the body is so eager always…

once he earnestly gets going he'll get back to task. mating press has benefit of looking at face. Get to say more sentimental things like mmmmnn.. ahh I like your, expressions. on her face. such a good idea, tsukasa…. pet pet mmm. pounds

あ：Some earnest nuzzling... talking against face...

つ：round 2 feels like luxury cruise

あ：pet hair… You do like to see Yashiro's red eyes staring so widely up at you…

つ：maybe some day. m.n. we can have Yashiro watch….. tsukasa nods

あ： >this is all good proof that nene could always use some more, ahh the body is so eager always…

Ah you know I think Tsukasa could also just continue to report like, feels good… he's in there simply enjoying the sheer overwhelm

つ：ah hanako would looove to hear it like mmm yesss confirmationnnnn.. mmmmmggh

ahh pleasant whore hanako with both palms holding back of her knees to the floor, tilting head back eyes closed rutting forward loving all the hakama spilling all about, the kimono all bunched up

あ：Artful… I think he can be unclogged a bit and just find it pretty… 's on a girl so. it'd be rude to be like, it's not pretty. it looks nice…. you like to see all the ruffles and flow of the fabric helps add flourish to all the motions, emphasize that you are Plow

つ：i think for round 2 once ya hit the stride it finally gets to become ahh Tsu-ka-saaaa~~ tsuuu-ka-sa, on beats of impact. pleasant singsongy feeling too good ahhh relaxed w my cock deep in pussy. mmmm comfort of brother and gf

あ：Like he got all warmed up and is fully leaning into it… It is just indulgent and cozy at this point. in that sickening way. You both just hit a rhythm of going back and forth with names…

つ：which to nene is a lot. they're. really brothers. in love

あ：uehh the gay shit… i'm sorry if you watch them hit some fingers laced peak

つ：lalalala

あ：maybe in a way nene could understand why hanako-kun runs from this

つ：in some way… you can see how its incongruous….. you hit a beautiful peak. and then he nuts and he's like…

MMMMMMmmm. moves her legs around like levers. I wanna keep cominggggggg

あ：It's strugglesome… it takes so much greasing to ease hanako into such a place. you are sort of watching him regress and be childish and capricious in a particular way though like wahhh i'm not ready to leave it…

つ：[WHORE hentai boy voice yet also 6 year old] I wanna fill you with cooome

あ：i don't wanna stop until you can't mooove tsukasa also a child in the situation: til i-!! can't move-!!! pant pant

つ：tsukasa flinging hands up panting aahhh whatever you want!! amane!

あ：I think it's always refreshing to be so mortal feeling. like ah for real out of breath, for real aching and light headed and shaky

つ：mmm but can I reaallyyy… mmmmmmrr… teetering pounds a little she'll definitely be sore by now…. I can feel it….. mmmm…~~ mmmmbutIwannamakeagirlsore……..

あ：[enabler voice] re-ally really REALLY!! [hiccups] it'll be good nene-chan will appreciate it

つ：you just wanna get fucked more, you're biased… [talking a little angrily. you whore] mmm its not fair…..

あ：clucks tongue. leers.

つ：if it were just you… then I really wouldn't have to think twice yyyouu don't need to go anywhere… or do anything. [gets… dark]

あ：deliberating and becoming this boy

like ah so selifsh… you're not really being considerate of Yashiro. it's always up to me

つ：starting to think about how to blame tsukasa positioning carefully…. sigh.

Yashiro…. needing to take a day off of school isn't good for me, you know….. are you going to keep me busy while she's stuck at home, 'cuz of what you wanted?

あ：Saying all this while rolling hips… as always, I think it's satisfying to implicate Tsukasa as the selfish one here. like ah really Tsukasa… This tone, like you're scolding your younger brother. Hey now…

つ：yashiro is like. s. stay home….? what are you gonna do to my body… waito. but staying silent

あ：what are . you thinking about what the… what is Hanako-kun imagining ??

つ：gonna….. watch him make you bleed

あ：Eh but you know I think the true efficiency would be switching to fingering in-between everything… Like well while i'm recovering…. keep this going this is really like. targets cervix

But I feel like Nene does start to like worry over the sounds Tsukasa starts to make in there He's not like… censoring self.. so as it starts to sound ah. agonizing. this is heard with no obfuscation (edited) Hanako himself registering the new quality to the voice, like god sounds miserable… [horny] [eyes rolling back]

つ：when it hits that brutal octave, definitely pain

あ：it just sounds like it hurts

つ：but still so sexual.. mmmm blood in the water

あ：Just incentive to slam harder, in reality

つ：nene didn't know she could sound like that…… crazy. hearing your voice take new shapes. won't… be able to go to, class……?

あ：[cruelly] Is it still "good"? Is it, Tsukasa?

つ：NODS NODS NODS NODS ah begins laughing. mania induced

あ：>won't… be able to go to, class……?

you've never thought about your pussy being able to hurt so bad. like whuh but its my pussy… [eyes are dots]

つ：just from….. having sex….?

amane finally getting too… insidious. mmm. its…. it'd be bad, actually if you were like this, Tsukasa…. there's no way…. we'd… do anything else…..

whispering. it'd happen… sooner [actually referring to. murder]

yashiro: sex? tsukasa receives the meaning proper tho

amane, inhaling slow after saying that. knew it…. knew you'd….. tighten. gh…. mmM…. [gets back in there]

if only you could carry nene-chan home like this after everything. in an ideal world

あ：The aftercare we deserve. Sorry sweetheart

Alluding to murder really is the most lurid thing, in reality… In a circumstance like this. But ah I really imagine it does alight every nerve in Tsukasa's body like mghhhh… the concept that if things were different, it wouldn't undo your shinjuu. but ah of course it wouldn't… it's what Amane wants of you…. [boiling internally to process it all, still]

If it would functionally just stoke Amane and incite him to act. I also feel like, there are dokis had whenever there's an implication of — … and I would've done it to you, even if life had been different around us

つ：inevitable….. i'd love for amane to know it's not the circumstance that caused it, it's himself

あ：It wasn't just a coincidence or, like a matter of your specific circumstance, it's more about his nature…

つ：to just simply know that so confidently

あ：it's what he's been agonizing over for years All of this in mind, while slipping back in… i like. it's good flavor

つ：pulling out fingers, observing blood… showing it to tsukasa kinda like… mm you like to see it don't you, mentally. yup, you do….

あ：Of course you do… grabs jaw with bloody hand. continuing, lowly, "It's always like this, with you, isn't it… It can't be any other way."

つ：nothing but manic giggling and wiggling and panting can come out anymore

あ：Reduced... ueghhrhgh i feel like the scariest thing is when Amane just breathily laughs too. you both make each other sick

つ：reach a bit of peace again somehow. hai hai…. hugs legs while pumping. will finish pleasantly despite where we've treaded but then its like….❤️ I have no idea how we'll explain any of this to yashiro …❤️ I thought we could just play it off with a little tidying up….

あ：^^…………………………………………. I don't want to explain anything❤️

つ：will just get her some water and goodies from the cafeteria (stealing) set a girl up in the infirmary. can carry her there at least. its post-school its empty out here just caretake her for a bit yashiro has much to think about. oh when she's placed back in her body, oh it'll be like being hit with a truck

あ：try not to scream challenge

つ：immediate respect for tsukasa for just laying there . the STABBING FEELING

あ：at least for a second i think its really AKSUFJDGHF

つ：oh its really AFKLADJF!!! AAouuuouhhh… curling on side clutching tummy

あ：tsukasa-kun😭 hefsldkjgdshdf tsukasa out here like mm reminds me of. you know

つ：tsukasa very apologetic

あ：❤️

つ：him and nene have special knowledge so hes really like❤️ i sowwy ❤️i got into it toooo much❤️ oops

あ：gomen ne

つ：i wanted to look out for you girl but… uhm💔

あ：tfw you trying to look out for your girlie. but you ARE his slave we'll just have much girl talk later

つ：much to girl talk about some day

あ：AS ALWAYS i just want nene to be able to have someone be like. it feels soooooooooooooooooo good to be fucked in your pussy! >:o i understand so much

つ：the pussy is so amazing and cool it really does like to be fucked

あ：nene-chan is amazing

[sparkbird-jewelry]

Creativity is pulling all the scatterfuck out of your brain and putting it into something tangible that you can hold that is actually real. I have long looked inward to pain and twisted that around into something cool and expressive to show. A sort of over compensating way of dealing with the pain of my own human existence. Lately I’ve struggled to pull it out, so it sits in there, hurting.

Lately has been so hard that I wasn’t even sure I would make it to yesterday. The grossness of cutting ties with my mother, my sister falling extremely ill before moving away, feeling I finally had her back in my life and now she’s so far away again.. same old crappy health problems, more random organ removal surgery, struggling with the idea I might be a shit mom. A shit girlfriend. Loving everyone so much, but being so extremely isolated by my fear and anxiety that I just can’t see past the darkness to any light ahead. I’ve felt so alone and so far from my craft, so far from who I wanted to be. I’ve had so long to put it all into motion, and yet here I sit. In my empire of dirt. Trying to desperately claw my way out without losing anyone else.

I try to reach out, but I don’t. I only think about trying. Who to reach out to? Nobody there. Mental health care is a joke. My family can pat me on the back in their minds, but they won’t come over to hug me and tell me it’ll be ok. People don’t want to confront my pain. It’s gross and yuck. I try to grow things and plant seeds but mostly they struggle like I do. Too much water and they’re drowning. Too much sun and they dry out and fry. Gnats and bugs gnaw at the tiny, weak leaves. I’m overthinking my overthinking. Be the good. Fuck. Why isn’t anyone else being the good? Why does it all feel on me? Like I’m the problems that exist for everyone else. But I’m literally just existing. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I mostly hurt myself when I isolate or when I open my mouth. Am I isolating or just isolated? I guess I’ll never know. It hurts to feel unloved. So you try to love and please those left hanging around more and more, until there’s just not much left for yourself.

I feel close to the end of nothing. Another shit chapter and no closer to meeting myself where I wanted to be. I took this whole entire year to fix my life. It’s halfway over and I’m deeper in the mess than I was when I started. Change is gross and hard. And I fear it like the first horror movie I watched as a kid. Still haunting my subconscious every night. I can’t unsee it. Like I can’t unsee my past and all the screaming and dehumanizing they did to me. How do you let go of a shitty childhood when your parents still treat you like they did when you were thirteen? You would think 65 years would be enough time to learn respect.

[mayflyuniverse]

gwah i can’t seem to focus on work tonight... 

(this is not a rant btw dw but i’m going to put this under read more bc i am going to Ramble)

Oh gosh-- where do I even begin. It’s just thoughts btw, don’t worry. nothing explicitly bad happens other than I think it’s one of those moments where I’m finding myself stuck in a quicksand of work, no money in my bank account and a ton of other obligations and I just kind of want to expedite everything so i can get to the meat of the bone of what I feel like I should be doing with my life; aka my comic endeavours. 

I get like this when I’m like either rapidly losing will to just live or when I feel that weird surge of passion for my dreams again. Don’t get me wrong; I always have this drive to achieve my dreams of making comics, it’s just with how bad the past few years has been for me, you can say I’m just a little battered and bruise so I get tired when I do get time to like.. invest into making this come true, you know?

I think the thing that is hard to explain to my peers is how much having a big families naturally leaves you with a very small window of energy to expense on everything else. Like, you’re either out of tangible resource by the end of situations (i.e money, time etc) OR you’re just REALLY REALLY tired emotionally and physically that you spend that ‘free time’ recuperating just barely up to normal, only for you to be hit with another cycle. 

It’s just a natural sort of state because there’s just so many people in your family, you know? And I think this goes all around, no matter if you’re the parent, or the eldest kid or the youngest or in the middle-- its like the general energy you have to expense for simply keeping up or upkeeping a large family is just naturally taxing. That can often leave you feeling like you don’t really have time for anything else, including dating or your passions. Which is why, I feel like to choose between the two, I’ve chosen on career / goals because at least that can be monetized and thus adds to resources in the family, y ou know? @__@ 

So I often feel a little sad when I find myself thinking about my dreams and aspirations. It’s also why it really peeves me when I see via osmosis that people try to shove it down my throat that there is a time-limit for these things. I know there isn’t but it feels so tiring to fight against everyone who’s so insistent that once. you’re above 27,  you’re like dead or something lmfao. 

Like, I’m at the stage in my life where I don’t have marital commitments, not even dating commitments. I have no babies to care for except for my siblings and even then the burden of paying for their schooling is not on me completely due to circumstances. It’s by all means, not as heavy as if I was to have my own kid and family. I should, by right, be able to at least expend 30% of my time to just...... work, right? Work on my skills, my career... fix the parts of my life that my parents couldn’t afford to because Im not the only kid right? I should be able to give me those things. 

But I often find myself not quite like that @__@ and that’s discouraging. I definitely refuse to point the blame on my family for this-- I think because even if I did feel that way, I can’t change them. It’ll literally do nothing. It took everything I had to team up with my siblings JUST to get my parents to be OKAY with the idea of family therapy. I can’t expect anything else than that, you know? 

I guess I’m also feeling the pressure of how these past few years, though I was given the choice to choose my vocation. of study (because of our family volume, we’re each given 1 shot only), that my parents have started putting the subconscious pressure that because I’ve ‘failed’ in their eyes in my career (failed, not because I don’t HAVE a career, but because it doesn’t pay as much as they might’ve thought), that my siblings have to suffer for it.

And the feeling that I might contribute in making things MORE difficult for them to pursue their passions; a priviledge I feel I had when I was their age, that tears me apart. And I dunno. Maybe that pressure is what makes me feel like I have to fix this. I have to make money so much that they stop putting undue pressure on the kids... 

But man.. I suck working through that kind of pressure.

Deadline pressure? sure. Societal pressure? sure. But man, pressure from my parents? I just get stumped. 

It’s one thing if I’m like doing it and it’s just not working, you know?  Then I know that’s more of a ‘i’m probably not a good fit for this job so i better make this a hobby than my main gig’ sort of thing... But man, I haven’t even gotten the CHANCE to do it. I’m still WHEEZING trying to get to the starting line ): and i don’t know. that bums me out. I’m just out here constantly clawing, begging for a chance... 

It’s also the end of the year, i think that’s also another reason why I’m thinking about it alot. I mean, with each passing year, I take it as a checklist of ‘have I done enough?’ and boy.. look. I know A LOT happened in my family/personal life that took away a lot of my energy and attention these past few years but man, I feel like I should do better. 

I KNOW i’m good at making comics, at telling stories. This is where I belong. I love it. I love being able to express my thoughts, ideas and try and get into the conversation with my peers about the world, about how we view each other and issues-- i love all of that. I can be proficient at this, I can feel it. It’s like a fish in water-- I WANT to be able to do more with this so so bad....

I just ... I just want to be strong enough to just claw my way out of financial debt and this self-pressure, this familial pressure.... community pressure to JUST.... DRAW. I just want to draw. I just.... want to earn while i draw.

aaaa i dunno.. I mean. Every year, I try to have some healthy level of expectation with my career-- more like with producing Leupus.. Maybe I just need more grit.. Just grit to get myself through the disappointments, the stalled projects, the ghosting from clients and getting sick for two weeks and worrying about being behind on bills... Just grit to dust it all off, focus on my work and get back on track. But every year it feels like it’s getting worse...

GWAH. i can do this.. i can. I know i can. Maybe tonight is just not a good night. I just need to get into bed early and just chill. Reset and tomorrow will be a better day. We’re not giving up. We can do this. Every disappointment and every. rejection has led me to this momennt. Don’t let it distract you. You can do this.. you can do this..

[fragmcntedsouls]

“You can hold my hand if it’ll make you feel better?” Billie taunted back without missing a beat, both knowing and appreciating that his main goal here was to keep her laughing and he did, with complete ease. “Oh, so you think that you're on to my master plan, huh?” she grinned, before tapping the side of her nose with her index finger, “that’s for me to know and you to never find out.” He caved quicker than even she had anticipated and that warranted another full bellied laugh from her, before nodding confidently, “don’t you forget it.” A gasp then followed and Billie feigned an expression of hurt, before laughter prevailed yet again and it was her turn to cave in as he scrunched his nose; the expression being his own version of the pout lip, fluttering eyelashes combo as she taunted between giggles, “that hurts and I think you should take it back or i’m taking back the offer for you to hold my hand." Adressing the room, she quipped "hear that ghosts, you can come and get him” before folding instantly as she wrapped her arms around him again. “They’re not just behind you, fyi” revelling in the sound of his laughter now as she commented defiantly, “see, told you I was funny.”

Unable to resist poking fun again, she nodded with an ill composed expression, “aren’t you even a little curious? you wouldn't be saying that if you weren't scared.” A content hum cut through her laughter as their foreheads met and the sincere happiness between them was entirely tangible, convinced that she could physically reach out and grasp at it, “alright, you can have that one. Although, I would pay to see their faces when they walk into this place. They’d probably start arguing about who’s pinterest board was responsible for it before remembering what they came in for.” Butterflies were fluttering amok in her stomach given the way that he was looking at her, almost as if they were seeing each other for the first time and falling in love again with each glance. She squirmed as his hand covered her mouth, instinct telling her to lick his palm as she mumbled the third Mary against the restriction, only then leaning back with a grin “chicken.” 

There was an all knowing smile and Billie leaned further back in his embrace, but only so that she could gauge his reaction better, “if I say – no, you’re not gonna google it, right?” she was half joking with that statement, before giggling at his own. Whilst she probably shouldn’t have laughed at his statement about the compound, laughter was the best medicine. “Pretty sure there’s more blood on the walls than there is artwork, but someone's died everywhere – so why not there in insane style.” Her eyes widened at his taunt, before leaning in to graze her lips against his as she whispered, “you wouldn’t –” and piggybacking off of his taunt, she added “according to her though, our very non existent kids will have access to the best schools around. I mean, she definitely said it enough times. I counted four in that first conversation alone." Then, there was a lightbulb moment "hey, we should really start playing into this for the next place. You know, like fake names, fake accents, fake jobs, the whole lot. I can do a pretty good British accent, limited to things that your uncle says though and it sometimes bleeds into Australian, but that's like two in one" stopping herself, she tried the accent on for size, "I think that I can pull it off, mate.”

The dream home would likely not be found today, and they really were going to have to go back to the drawing board of compromise. With as much laughter as he'd heard today, he had no complaints. He'd walk through Bruce Wayne's mansion a hundred more times for that.

"I'm not, you're scared," Briggs shot back, not so brilliantly. However, the purpose was to cheer her up and keep her laughing, and that was succeeding brilliantly. "Or you lured me into a false sense of security?" He couldn't even keep that one as he all too quickly caved to add, "you're always on my side." It wasn't just him keeping the mood light; Billie could banter with him better than anyone. He was in the palm of her hand, always. "When do I get to see that?" He teased, his nose scrunching a little in the playfulness of the moment. "Right, of course they don't. They're just silent in the shadows behind me." More laughter arose as she corrected his horror lore, shaking his head, "well, we are not spending the night, so I guess we'll never know." Leaning his head down to rest against her forehead, his grin spread all the wider, "pretty sure it doesn't matter the movie, you should never go into the basement. Zera and Uncle Klaus may have a lot of questions about where we went if we never come home. But..." He loved that sound, infectious as it always was. Looking at her, her features alight with mischief and pure happiness, it was like falling in love with her all over again. Covering her mouth with his hand, he shook his head, holding it all back to sell the lie, "nah, only two. Ah, well, guess it didn't work. What a shame."

His eyes could not leave her, as though absolutely mesmerized. "You're not wrong, this actually would make a good headquarters," he offered to the first part, "but it's not actually a murder house, right? Besides, we live in a murder house now anyway." Realistically, the compound had seen more murder than this house ever would. "You should really be more compassionate," he teased, "I'm gonna send you back down to the realtor, you can hear about standardized test scores or whatever for the rest of the afternoon while I--well, actually, I don't know that I want to be up here by myself."

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Chokepoint Capitalism tour: Ottawa, Toronto, New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles (and beyond!)

I’m writing this from a hotel room in Ottawa, the day before the first event in the tour Chokepoint Capitalism, the book Rebecca Giblin and I are about to publish with Beacon Press; this tour is a little different from the usual so I thought I’d do a post explaining how it’ll all work.

This is my first tour since the pandemic hit; I had four (!) book releases during the first year of the lockdown and did a slew of online events. In some ways, these were amazing: I could do a UK event in the morning and a US event in the evening. But I don’t think anyone — not the booksellers, nor the readers, nor the special guests who helped me out — would say they were as good as an in-person event.

A lot has changed since 2019, and not all of it is pandemic related! For one thing, Chokepoint Capitalism is a book about the problems with monopolies in the arts world, and of course we published it with an independent press. Beacon is a part of the Unitarian Universalist Association, a venerable (168 year old) (!) progressive publisher that Howard Zinn and Albert Einstein (!!) praised as essential:

http://www.beacon.org/Assets/ClientPages/History.aspx

Independent presses are amazing but they don’t have the deep pockets for publicity tours that the Big Five can tap into, so this “tour” is really a series of events added onto my own working travel — largely trips I’m taking on behalf of EFF or in support of my activist work. That means the cities involved are a bit of a grab-bag, there are some long delays between dates, and the publicity for these events is a bit fragmented.

But the events themselves promise to be great. We’ve lined up fantastic booksellers and interlocutors, and Rebecca is coming over from Australia for part of it — it’s pretty hard to catch both of us on the same continent — let alone on the same stage! — so this is shaping up to be a fantastic couple of months.

The point of Chokepoint Capitalism is to break the deadlock that traps creative workers into thinking that they have to choose between rooting for entertainment companies or tech companies in hopes that their champion will reward their loyalty. Instead of praying for the largesse of rapacious monopolists, we set out a slew of detailed, shovel-ready proposals that will immediately and profoundly benefit creators, primarily by getting them paid.

https://doctorow.medium.com/structural-adjustment-fded18104bbe

We want these events to be a forum where creators and audiences can discuss how they can help put these plans into action, producing real, tangible outcomes that shift money away from giant companies and into the pockets of the creative workers whose works drive their profits. Please help us get the word out to the creators in your life about these tour stops!

The first of these events is tomorrow, in Ottawa, Canada. Amber Mac and I will be onstage for a keynote at “Canadians Connected,” CIRA’s annual conference:

https://member.cira.ca/Events/CanadiansConnected/About.aspx?websitekey=eeca1256-0fe3-4a11-9184-3c5d92990b1c

Next is Toronto, this Friday, Sept 16, at 7PM at Type Books in the Junction, one of my favourite neighbourhoods in my hometown, and the place where my grandfather and his 9 siblings were raised. Note that I idiotically previously gave the wrong date for this.

https://www.eventbrite.ca/e/chokepoint-capitalism-book-launch-with-cory-doctorow-tickets-418144450307

On Sept 19, Rebecca and I will both be at McNally Jackson in NYC, discussing the book with Kate Judge, author of the stupendous new book “DIRECT: The Rise of the Middleman Economy and the Power of Going to the Source”:

https://www.mcnallyjackson.com/event/rebecca-giblin-and-cory-doctorow-present-chokepoint-capitalism

From Sept 21–23 I’m appearing at Unfinished Live at The Shed NYC, with panels and solo presentations on competition, interoperability and digital human rights:

https://live.unfinished.com/

On the evening of Sept 23, Rebecca and I will be joined by Nilay Patel, editor-in-chief of The Verge, at an event hosted by the Engelberg Center on Innovation Law & Policy at NYU School of Law — it’s at 7PM at the Tishman Auditorium at 40 Washington Square S:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/chokepoint-capitalism-funtime-book-party-tickets-411552222777

We’re in San Francisco next, for a Sunday afternoon event on Sept 25 at the San Francisco Public Library’s Koret auditorium in the main branch (100 Larkin St); we’re still confirming our special guest, but they’re pretty special!

https://sfpl.org/events/2022/09/25/author-rebecca-giblin-and-cory-doctorow

Then we head back to LA, where Book Soup is sponsoring an event with David A. Goodman, who led the incredibly triumphant Hollywood writers’ strike against the private-equity backed talent agency cartel; it’s 7PM on Sept 27 at the Beverly Hills Public Library Auditorium (444 N Rexford):

https://www.booksoup.com/event/cory-doctorow-rebecca-giblin

That’s all the stuff that’s confirmed and online, but it’s not the whole tour! Rebecca and/or I and/or both of us will be doing events later this year in Boston, Ottawa (again!), Montreal, Washington DC, Miami, London, and beyond. We’ll post details once they’re live.

In the meantime, you’ve got less than two days to get in on our Kickstarter for the indie, non-Audible, DRM-free audiobook edition (you can also pre-order ebooks and print editions, as well as donating copies to libraries):

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/chokepoint-capitalism-an-audiobook-amazon-wont-sell/

Attentive readers will have noticed that the events for this event are happening before the official publication date for the book (Sept 27); that’s because supply chain disruptions pushed the on-sale date back. But have no fear, our publisher has assured us there will be ample supplies of the book at our events.

Image: Alex Schoenfeldt Photography https://www.schoenfeldt.com

CC BY 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[Image ID: A photo of me giving a talk at a bookstore.]

[pentechnics]

Field Day

Chapter 16 of Of Love And Time

Summary: it’s Field Day at last. Time to not only say goodbye to your class, but to also get the answers you’ve been aching for. You decide to take it with your head held high, whichever way the pendulum may swing.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!teacher reader

Series content: teacher/parent AU, fluff, slow burn, lots of mutual pining, sexual tension, mentions of past trauma (tagged in detail for specific chapters), depictions of violence (nothing explicit, no gore), angst, a dash of hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, Grogu is at the equivalent age of a human 4-year-old and can speak

Notes: SOOOOO past me was an angel and had all this typed up before my health took a turn, which meant that I just needed to get into a good enough state to edit. Let me tell y’all though, editing on my phone is a nightmare all it’s own outside of my freaky head stuff! 😂 but here we are, I pushed through while still pacing myself and taking breaks, and now I can finally share this long-awaited chapter with you beautiful people.

Also, I’m warning you all now — chapter 17 will be the final chapter of this story. Now, that doesn’t mean I’ll be totally done with this universe! I still have things to write from Din’s POV and I will still always take asks/requests for little moments/thoughts about these two. But the main story will come to a close with chapter 17! Again, because of stuff going on it’ll take me some time to get that typed up. Some of it is already in my doc and the rest is written out on paper, so it’ll just be a slow-paced transfer process lol!

I can’t thank you all enough for your patience and well wishes! I love you all very much and I’m excited to hear your thoughts on this one! ❤️

Taglist under the cut; let me know if you’d like to be added/removed! And if you don't get tagged, please let me know. Some folks seem to be deactivated and others have possibly changed their url — please let me know if that's you and you're still here/want to be tagged!

****

You awoke on Wednesday morning with a start. Your room was alive with sunlight, the glow casting itself around you like a blanket. It was reminiscent of the energy bustling through your veins: bright, fresh, ready. You leaped out of bed and rushed to get dressed.

Today was Field Day, the last official day of the school year. But it was more than that this year: today you’d find out if Bo would be punished for threatening Grogu, if you still had a job, if you’d be able to find your peace of mind once more.

The notion made you a little dizzy; after running through countless hypotheticals for weeks, it was strange to think you’d finally have some tangible answers. You’d be able to give your worries some sort of resolution after constant, debilitating worry. You weren’t sure what to make of that.

One you were washed up and dressed, you glanced over yourself in the mirror. Simple outfit, focused more on comfort than professionalism. On the outside one would see you as put-together, ready to go out and do what you did best.

They wouldn’t be able to see the raging mess of nerves and thoughts running amuck inside you. The anxious energy that had you looking forward to the day while simultaneously dreading what may accompany it. This could possibly be the last morning of its kind, and that was enough to have you gripping the counter and leaning over the sink while your gut twisted.

With a deep breath you straightened up, gathered your things, and headed to school. However this day played out, you promised to stay as positive and optimistic as you could. Not just for the children, but for yourself as well.

No matter what happened, one thing was certain: after today, there would be nothing standing in between you and Din. Repercussions be damned, that shred of assurance helped you carry one foot in front of the other, helped you take in one lungful of the misty morning air after another.

It’ll be okay, you chanted to yourself. We just need to take things as they come.

~~~~

Your classroom was packed to the brim with families and children, whom you’d asked to meet you here so you could walk them out to the bigger play area. Each of them had greeted you with glee dripping from their beings, their families just as excited to begin the day.

You couldn’t hide how ecstatic you were to see Fennec and Boba again after so long. Sure, you’d seen Boba in passing when he would pick Grogu up, but getting to actually speak with him scratched an itch you previously weren’t aware of. Their excitement was palpable despite the cool way they were carrying themselves; you couldn’t wait to see them loosen up when the games began, like they had at Grogu’s birthday party.

Din had gone ahead with helping Grogu hang up his backpack and get situated with his friends, giving you a brief greeting beforehand. Although it was clear that Grogu didn’t need any assistance at this point, you didn’t blame Din for trying to occupy himself. After all, you were doing the exact same thing.

“Now this is important, everyone,” you said from your spot on the circle carpet, addressing the ring of children surrounding you. “The big kids’ playground is a lot larger than the one you’re used to, and there’s going to be a lot going on. If you feel like it’s too much please come find your family or myself and we’ll take care of it, okay? I want to make sure you’re all safe and comfortable while you have fun. Sound good?”

“Yes, Miss!” they cried.

You were already missing the sound of it.

With a grin you stood up and had them form a line behind you. Unlike his usual post at the back, Grogu stood at the very front and looked up at you from your side.

“Miss, can I hold your hand?”

“Of course you can, bud!” You smiled and held your hand out to him.

Li demanded custody of your other hand and you obliged, the rest of the class walking along behind you with their family members in tow.

You hated the constant urge you got to look behind you, knowing Din would be the first person you’d see. This would be the longest time spent near him since the day he left your house after the two of you reached your consensus.

Just this last day, you reminded yourself. You can make it.

You walked the group down the exposed halls of the school to the other side of campus where the bigger play area lay. Cheers of delight rang behind you as soon as you stepped through the open gateway.

It was a vast expanse of asphalt that ran along the back of the school property, housing a multitude of play structures including a classic playground, a large rock wall, tether ball posts, and more, with a grass field behind it all. Atop the blank areas were temporary booths and games that gave off the atmosphere of a carnival. Music played through the loudspeakers as the other classes ran around the space, taking turns at each game.

“Are we ready?” you called behind you.

“Yeah!” came the children’s enthusiastic response.

You walked them over to the first game and explained that each class got to have fifteen minutes at each one before moving to the next. Once they’d gotten started at the first game, you turned your attention to the families.

“Each game is hosted by a faculty member. After a few rounds I’ll be setting up my own station and Gila will be ensuring that each class moves along. I’ll be right over there-” you pointed across the way towards an awning beside a classroom in front of the rock wall. “So please come find me if you need anything.”

Some of the parents asked you questions that you answered with ease, but the weight of a particular gaze never left your skin.

Din was standing to the side with Fennec and Boba, who were watching Grogu play the first game with his classmates with pure joy in their expressions. Din’s arms were crossed over his chest, his cape flowing behind him with the wind. His visor was trained on you. When you were finished with the other parents, you walked over to him.

“Do you have any questions, Mr. Djarin?”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Not about the games.”

You gulped down the lump in your mouth, wishing you had any kind of news for him.

“I, um-” you cleared your throat. “I’m sure your other questions will be answered soon.”

He gave you a nod before you both turned your attention back onto the children.

The class was partaking in a game of parachute, each child flapping the large tarp around with pure glee dripping from their expressions. It was Grogu’s turn to crawl on top; he happily let himself be tossed around, giggling with each movement he made.

You couldn’t help laughing along. That sweet little smile was contagious.

When the time came to switch games, Grogu came running up to the four of you.

“Did you see me? I was almost flying, like Papa!”

“You sure were, bud,” you said as Din scooped Grogu up when he reached out his little arms. “Maybe he should get you your own jetpack.”

Din’s visor snapped to you.

“Don’t go giving him ideas!”

Fennec and Boba’s barking laughter echoed across the field.

~~~~

After three more games with your class, the time came to set up your face painting station. You were glad to be under the awning, given the day’s particularly warm weather. Children lined up one by one, pointing to various sample designs and picking out vibrant colors to adorn their features. You’d talk to them while you painted, reveling in their excited energy. When younger folks came by, you wondered if you were speaking to any potential future students of yours.

That is, if you’d still have a job by the end of the day.

Soon your own kiddos were lining up for their turn. Li asked for a little Blurrg on her arm, Chia a tree on her shoulder. Each child told you about their favorite games so far and showed off the little prizes they won.

“Are you gonna come back and play with us?” Jack asked while you finished up the Bantha on his face.

“Of course,” you said, “I’m doing this for another twenty minutes and then I’m coming back to you all. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, turning to his mom and asking the time.

“So when the clock says 10:30, you’ll come back?”

“That’s right!” you said, pride pumping through your veins. You held up your hand.

“Great job, Jack!”

He happily gave you a high-hand before getting down from the chair. You turned to his mom and praised his math improvement.

“He never really liked it before this year,” she said, “It’s been wonderful seeing him apply it to so many things now. When we’re at the store he tries to add up the prices of everything we buy!”

Your grin was hurting your cheeks. The gorgeous, shimmering wrap of love and pride that came with seeing a child bloom in this way never ceased to satisfy you.

Your heart leaped when you realized Grogu was next in line. He bounded up into the chair and you showed him your page of designs.

“I can do any of these for you, bud.”

He stared at the page, big eyes narrowing as he took in each option. He suddenly turned to his family.

“Papa, Uncle, Fennec, will you get one too?”

“Of course!” Boba said, “We’ll get whatever you pick so we can match.”

Fennec laughed and shook her head, but agreed nonetheless.

“I don’t think that paint works on Beskar, kid.” Din said.

“Oh, but it does,” you said with a nod. “No need to worry about that.”

Din sighed and tilted his head at you; you bit down a giggle. Grogu returned his attention to you.

“I want that!”

He pointed to the purple butterfly you had painted on your cheek. You turned to give him a better look before taking out your paints.

“Okay then, which color will it be?”

Once again Grogu stared at each option as if he were making the most important decision of his life. He settled on a deep teal color with matching glitter, and you got to work.

“Are you having fun today, Grogu?” you asked.

It was hard to keep his cheek still with how he talked about the games he’d played so far. He pointed towards Din’s satchel, which held a plush he’d won at one of them. You grinned.

“That one’s gonna be best friends with Muddy.”

“Muddy?”

“My Mudhorn!”

“That’s a lovely name for him,” you said with a giggle.

“Do you paint often?” Din asked.

“Sort of,” you said, trying to mask the small jolt that ran through you at the sound of his voice. “When I find the time.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

You shook your head, your peripherals catching Din round the workstation to stand behind you, a gloved hand coming down to brace itself on the back of Grogu’s chair. You took a deep breath and did your best to act indifferent to the sudden heat wave his closeness and cologne brought to you.

“You’re good at this,” he said.

You bit down a grin. When you finished Grogu’s butterfly and got his approval with your little mirror, Boba and Fennec took turns sitting down for theirs. Boba chose a yellow one, while Fennec chose black.

Din didn’t move from his spot behind you. In fact, he seemed to lean slightly further into your space. It reminded you of the night in the garden, the sudden yet soothing gravity of his presence pulling you back to that moment and sending a wave of sweet nostalgia through your mind. You dipped your brush back into the silver glitter and brushed it over each black wing on Fennec’s cheek.

“This one suits you,” you said, “matches your outfit and everything.”

Fennec let out a huff. “Never thought I'd be doing something like this, to be honest,”

“Kids will do that to you,” you said with a giggle.

You finished up with the glitter and showed Fennec the complete product in the mirror. A small twitch of her lips became a solid grin when Grogu gaped at her new facial decoration. She stood and gathered him into her arms. You couldn’t help grinning when she gave him a little tickle and sent him into a flurry of laughter.

“Papa,” Boba said, a teasing glint to his voice, “your turn.”

It was a bit amusing to see Boba give Din an order while donned in bright yellow face paint. It complemented his deep eyes, and shined alongside his grin. You chuckled as Din gave a small sigh before leaving his post and gently lowering himself into the chair. You held your paints out to him with a smile.

“What color would you like?”

His shoulders shook with silent laughter, visor glancing at the paints before turning to you and nodding.

“That one.”

Your eyes grew wide. You were afraid they’d pop out of your head. You gulped as your heart began to race, trying to steady your now shaky hand as you prepared to begin.

You couldn’t help smiling. Despite Din not initially wanting the paint and seemingly dreading the notion of getting it, there wasn’t a single thread of hesitation in that moment. His paint would be matching yours. A small detail that likely no one aside from this small circle would notice, but in a way it made you feel more connected to this little family. Now all five of you would have butterflies today, and Din’s would be a compliment to yours.

As you began with a black outline on the cheek of his helmet, Din’s body visibly tensed.

“This will wash off, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “don’t worry. It’ll come off very easily.”

He relaxed a bit. You switched over to the purple paint, filling in the gaps for each wing with big, practiced strokes.

“Did you want purple glitter too, or did you want to match with Grogu?”

He was silent as a hand tapped against his thigh plate.

“Dealer’s choice.”

You huffed and looked between the two colors before applying the teal glitter to the purple wings. As you imagined, it shone beautifully against the sunlight, an iridescent glow giving the butterfly a lovely highlight, making the colors mingle in harmony. It suited him. You smiled at your handiwork before leaning forward to catch Din’s gaze.

“There we go, all done.”

“I wanna see!” Grogu said, squirming in Fennec’s arms. She let him down and he ran up to Din to look at your creation.

“Papa, it's perfect! It’s like me and Miss at the same time!”

Something about that sentence made your heart clench. You and Grogu at the same time. Taking up space on something Din found to be so precious. Din’s hand flexed the slightest bit on his lap before he turned back to you. You held up the mirror for him with a smile, trying to hide the sudden weight returning to your shoulders.

“What do you think?”

He peered at the mirror, turning his helmet a bit and making the glitter shine. When he fully faced you once more, he gave a solid nod, his shoulders falling a bit while he released a breath.

“Thank you.”

You nodded in return and sent them on their way, Grogu’s words still pounding in your head. Your eyes wandered with them across the play area while your next student situated themselves in the chair. You wanted nothing more than to pack up the station and spend the rest of the day with them.

Just them.

Where the hell is Gila, you asked yourself. And how much longer is this going to take?

~~~~

As if she heard you summon her, Gila appeared at your booth ten minutes later while you were packing it away.

“Let me help you with this,” she started, “then I’ll give you the news.”

You stopped in your tracks, heart suddenly thundering.

“You have it?”

“I do.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your hands picking up the pace to pack away your tools and fold up the chairs as fast as possible while Gila took care of the table. You practically ran the supplies back to their storage area on the other side of the building, whirling around to face Gila – and dodging some pool noodles on the way – once it was all settled.

“Well?”

“First thing,” she said, “Bo’s getting fired.”

Your heart flopped into your stomach, sharp tingles sprouting from its landing place.

“The Board found his report against you to be fraudulent, thanks in part to statements from Grogu’s family and even from some of the other faculty members.”

“Wait- what?”

“They spoke to your character and devotion. Said you’d never do anything that’d be bad for the students.”

You smiled, sending a silent note of gratitude to every other teacher you worked with. How they even knew what was going on was beyond you, but the feeling of betrayal left in Bo’s wake was now being replaced by a bright ray of camaraderie.

“And because of the way he spoke to you about Grogu, he wasn’t deemed fit for teaching. He’s being escorted two districts over at the end of the day.”

“The Board can make someone move?” you asked, brows shooting up.

“No. They brought in the authorities. Threats against a child are not taken lightly – you know that.”

It made sense. As glad as you were that something was being done, a pit was still forming in your gut. You were responsible for getting someone fired.

Someone who deserved it, yes. But nonetheless, that someone’s livelihood was now gone. You recalled your own days of being on the run before Gila found you, the looming uncertainty of where you’d stay or when you’d next get to eat being a constant crowding shadow.

“Ah- none of that,” Gila waved a finger in front of you, snapping you back to the present. “No feeling bad for doing the right thing.”

You sighed. Were you really that easy to read?

“Plus, there are more important things to focus on now.”

Gila crossed her arms over her chest and took a breath. You swallowed and waited, clutching your hands together in an attempt to quell the tremors that were suddenly erupting through your body.

“In regards to the second report…” Gila started.

This was it. This was where you got fired too, wasn’t it? Her expression remained neutral, her tone even and professional. Unlike yourself, deciphering what Gila might be feeling from a look alone was no easy task. You squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the bad news.

“... The Board won’t be taking any major action against you.”

… Wait.

What?

You cracked an eye open to see Gila giving you a light grin.

“Wha-” the words died on your tongue before you could finish. Your jaw hung slack, hands gesturing towards her.

“It didn’t happen on school property,” she said with a shrug. “Not much they can do about that. And the fact that you turned yourself in really gave you an edge.”

“So-” you paused as the information made its way through your brain. “So that’s it? They’re not going to do anything?”

“School year’s over now, and it basically was when it happened. It’s not a concern to them.”

You heaved a sigh, suddenly feeling very foolish. Your next words spilled out before you could think about them.

“So I was panicking over nothing this whole time?”

“Hey, don’t go negating your own feelings,” Gila said, brows furrowing. “You were scared for good reason. If you weren’t such a wonderful and beloved teacher, and if any little thing had gone differently, maybe this would’ve had a different result.”

“I can’t accept it, Gila. This doesn’t feel right.”

“Now, I wasn’t done,” she said, raising her hand in your direction. “You will be subject to a few ethics seminars over the vacation, and for at least the first half of next year all your meetings with the families are required to be supervised.

But you’re not getting fired over this, okay?” she stepped closer to you, her tone growing softer. “I wanted to clear that up first.”

You stared at her, your head throbbing from the sudden absence of fear-fueled weight. You sunk forward, hands holding onto your knees. You were drowning in the relief of it all, the waves of anxiety still violently rippling through you.

Those caveats were easy. They were more than acceptable. You had a hard time believing it. Bo would be gone and Grogu would be safe, and now…

Now you and Din really didn’t need to worry.

You had spent so much of every day for the past month relishing in each moment, coming to terms with the possibility that they’d be the last of their kind. That after today you wouldn’t be able to make those memories again with new kids, or be around to see this group grow up.

But you would be. Your most precious lot in life, it was still yours. You took a series of deep breaths, slowly rising to meet Gila’s gaze.

“So we’re… we’re okay?”

Gila nodded.

“Once the day is done, tin man’s all yours.”

She placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Promise me,” she started, staring into your eyes. “Promise me you’ll stop cutting off your own happiness now.”

The words made you want to cry. You smiled and nodded, letting yourself deflate under her touch.

“I promise.”

When you eventually rejoined the fray, your eyes immediately spotted Din in the large crowd. The children were playing another game while the families looked on, all but him.

He seemed distressed, helmet jolting to and fro across the blacktop. You sighed; this was the first time seeing him didn’t make your soul ache. No, instead it was warm and alive, like a rejuvenated flame brought back from the cusp of going out.

Your smile grew when his gaze landed on you and he visibly relaxed. He tilted his head in a silent question, hand gesturing towards you. You took a breath and gave him a nod before making your way over to your class.

~~~~

You didn’t get a chance to talk to Din until after the festivities.

The children were so ecstatic to have you return that they dragged you into each new activity they got involved in, effectively keeping your mind distracted and engaged. You were grateful for it, though. You could now truly dive into these moments with them, any and all worries or looming shadows now swept away in the light of the day. Between cake walks, hopscotch, three-legged races, there was hardly time to catch a breath before the next game began. And you relished in it all.

When the afternoon rolled around, it was time to lead the children back to the classroom to collect their things. Chia and Grogu were occupying both of your hands, the rest of the kids foregoing their single-file line to walk alongside each other and their families, some being carried in the wake of their oncoming sleepiness.

Seeing your classroom walls emptier than they had been all year had your heart suddenly sinking; you’d taken down all the artwork and projects for the children to take home, leaving the beige underneath them to take over once more. As wonderful and needed as the distractions of the day had been, the reality of this being your last day with this particular group of kids was something you wish you’d remembered sooner.

You made your way around and helped out where needed, pausing to look over everyone when you reached the front of the room. Family members helped pile things into backpacks, slinging them over their own backs once they were full.

Now came the hardest part: saying farewell.

When the kids were packed up, you had them all gather on the carpet one last time.

“I can’t tell you all how lucky I feel to have been your teacher this year,” you started, looking at each child as you spoke. Some of them looked excited, some tired, and some sad.

“You all have been some of the best students ever, thank you for spending such a wonderful year with me. I can’t wait to see you go on and learn more, and grow into even bigger and smarter individuals.”

“Miss, will we ever see you again?”

You looked over at Li, who was grasping Grogu’s hand in her own while her other was raised, a look of sadness on her face. You smiled. If she had asked you that sooner you wouldn’t have known what to say. Warmth wrapped itself around you as you formulated your words.

“Of course you will, Li. I will still be here. You can always come visit if you want to!”

She smiled a bit after that, looking Grogu’s way. You couldn’t help the way your heart ached at seeing his droopy ears, his mouth puckered into an intense pout.

“All of you, you can still always count on me, okay?”

Various smiles and nods followed your words. After a few more parting sentences, you officially dismissed the group. All fourteen of them immediately sat up and barged at you, engulfing you in a pit of hugs. You laughed and embraced your fate, wrapping your arms around as many of them as you could. The sting of tears threatened your water line, but you squeezed it away as much as you could.

Once they’d released you, they went back to their families. Some took off right then with some more personal goodbyes, and others lingered in the classroom. They walked around to say goodbye to each other, and some of the families came up to speak with you. A few gave you gifts, others thanked you for your work. You took each conversation in stride, riding the line between relief that your job was done and sadness that it was over.

Before each of the remaining children left, they got one last goodbye ritual. And to your surprise and delight, almost everyone asked for a hug. You held them close, and told them each how proud of them you were before letting go. You watched each one walk out the door and onto the next step of their learning and healing journey, sending silent positive wishes to their families.

It wasn’t a surprise to you when Grogu and Li were the last ones remaining. It did shock you to see Din talking with Li’s father so amicably, while her mother spoke with the children. Fennec and Boba seemed to be keeping tense eyes on her while she did, which was both amusing and comforting. They were no less menacing with the butterflies on their cheeks. Regardless, it warmed your heart to see the families get along after what they’d gone through earlier in the year.

When the time came for Li’s family to leave, Grogu gave her a tight hug. Her parents spoke to you briefly before Li ran up to give you a hug.

“I’ll miss you,” she said.

“I’ll miss you too, dear. But don’t you worry,” you pulled back enough to look at her and pointed at your heart. “I’ll always be right here, okay? Just like you’ll always be in mine.”

She smiled and nodded before taking off with her parents.

“Come on, kid,” you heard Din say. “We need to go home now.”

“No!”

You turned to see Grogu sitting in his chair, little hands gripping the edge of the desk like a vice. Din was crouched behind him while Fennec and Boba stood off to the side.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, approaching them slowly.

“I’m afraid he’s having trouble saying goodbye,” Boba said.

You smiled and nodded to him before kneeling beside Din, right next to Grogu.

“Hey, bud,” you started. Grogu turned to look at you, tears welling in his eyes.

“I don’t wanna leave, Miss,” he said, “what if I can’t come back?”

“Can’t come back?” you repeated. He nodded.

“Now why would you think that?”

He looked back down at his desk. His next words, despite coming out a mere murmur, rocked your core.

“What if the bad man takes me away?”

With furrowed brows and blooming concern you cast your gaze to Din. He leaned towards you with a sigh.

“Bad man?” you asked.

“I can’t tell if he means Bo or… someone else.”

You bit your lip. It didn’t shock you that Din told Grogu about Bo, though you weren’t sure just how much detail he’d given. Either way, this was something you could fix now. You put a gentle hand on Grogu’s back, the other resting on his desk.

“I know it’s scary to think about that,” you started, “but I promise you don’t have to worry about it. The bad man is gone, and there’s no way he can get to you now. Okay?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, because of the terrible things he said, the school told him to leave. And then when the officials found out, they decided they were going to take him farther away so that he can’t do anything bad to you. You’ll never have to see him again.”

Grogu gulped and took a deep breath, his head rising and falling as he did. His grip on the desk loosened before one of his hands grasped yours.

“I don’t wanna leave you either.”

“Aw, honey,” you traced gentle circles on his back. “I’m not going anywhere! Just because I’m not your teacher anymore doesn’t mean you won’t see me.”

You caught Din’s visor peering at you from where he was still crouched down, and gave him a smile.

“Really?” Grogu asked, turning to you again. You wiped away a wayward tear and nodded.

“That’s right, bud. You might even see me more than you did here.”

That had his ears perking up. He held his hand up.

“Promise?”

You grinned and wrapped your pinkie around his.

“Promise.”

After a moment of staring at your joined hands, expression still stiff aside from hopeful eyes, he launched himself into your arms. You didn’t hesitate to return the embrace, slightly rocking him from side to side. When you looked up, Din was frozen in place.

That’s right – you still had to tell him the news.

Luckily for you, Boba and Fennec ushered Grogu out of the classroom once he relinquished his hold on you, Fennec tossing you a wink before the three of them disappeared through the door.

“Say, ‘bye classroom!’” Boba said.

You heard Grogu mimic the call, his voice still betraying a lingering sadness, before their footsteps grew farther away. You turned as Din was standing up, coming to meet you in the middle of the classroom.

A sudden memory of Open House flashed through your mind, seeing Din walk underneath the glittering rainbow and coming close enough to take up your entire personal bubble. But instead of rainbow beskar, his butterfly was shining in the fluorescent lighting. And instead of dread and guilt, his vague closeness filled you with a sense of anticipation.

“So…” he started, voice soft. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

You took a deep breath and tried to find his eyes underneath the black ‘T,’ a smile pulling at your cheeks.

“Yeah, it does.”

He let out a big breath, rushing closer to take your hands in his. They had a heft to them that filled you with a familiar sense of want, of bliss, of belonging.

“So your job’s okay?”

“Yes,” you started, giving his hands a squeeze. “Oh, and Bo really did get fired and relocated.”

You gave him all the details that Gila had given you. He stared straight at you while you spoke, as if in a trance.

“Thank kriff,” he threw his head back. “I’m so glad it worked out.”

He ran his thumbs over the backs of your hands.

“I… I was so worried.”

“Part of it is thanks to you all. Gila said that you gave statements on my behalf.”

“Of course we did, we weren’t about to let that creep get away with it.”

You let out a small laugh and leaned towards him, a steep silence falling over you both. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his gaze dropping to your connected hands. His movements became more focused; you savored the little bits of contact, the familiar bite of worn leather rubbing against your skin.

“Listen,” he breathed, sounding almost pained. “Grogu will be having a hard time today. But once I make sure he’s okay, could I come see you?”

“Yes,” you said right away. “I figured that was the case anyway. Take your time, okay?”

He nodded and took a step closer, bringing up one hand to your face. The ghostly touch of his gloved knuckles danced across your cheek before he pulled away. Brief but powerful, it was enough to make you dizzy. It opened your eyes to the physical effects of spending this long without him. With one last nod he was out the door, and you were alone in your bare classroom.

Your heart was beating in your ears, your senses now registering the effects Din had on your body: sharp, warm tingling, and a paradoxical sense of calm. You took a series of deep breaths and let the day sink in while you cleaned out your desk.

That morning, you were terrified of having to pack up your things for good. Having to carry the boxes out with you instead of merely stowing them away in here. But as you put everything into its appropriate location, you were okay. Content. In a few months’ time you’d be right back here pulling everything out in preparation for a new year. And you couldn’t wait.

Once everything was set you took a seat and looked around. Memories of the children running around, or sitting on the carpet singing their song, or drawing at their desks played through your mind. Visions of Chia coming up to the whiteboard to solve a problem, of Li showing you a drawing, of Bru helping another student who was having a hard time, overwhelmed you.

You rested your elbows on the desk and cupped your face in your hands, the void in your heart finally showing itself.

You were really going to miss those kids.

You thought back to when Grogu first joined the class. The group had been plenty of fun beforehand, but it was no secret that Grogu brought something new out of them all. He brought something new out of you as well, in a way you didn’t realize was possible.

Your mind projected the memory of his first naptime, when he couldn’t sleep and came to your desk. You remembered the soothing presence of him in your lap, and how your heart pained for him when he told you what he was afraid of. The very same thing he was afraid of before he left minutes before: being taken away.

You vowed to yourself right then that you’d do all in your power to help him feel as secure as possible going forward.

Your brain followed the train of thought until it found Din. You looked at the seat across from you, where he’d sat so many times. A sudden realization struck — your last check-in with Din… was the last of its kind. No more sharing tales about Grogu or giving playful jabs at each other in this spot.

So much else has happened between you both since that check-in. Your bond has evolved and deepend, and your heart’s in a whole new realm when it comes to him.

But it all started right here.

You smiled as you recalled Din’s parting question. He was going to come see you. And you’d finally be able to say the words that have been burning on your tongue for weeks, no matter how the idea of it made your stomach churn.

You wondered what sort of memories would await you both after that.

~~~~

Once you’d stepped into your house and toed off your shoes, a welcome release from the world beyond your door, you sighed. You were exhausted, physically and mentally, and your stomach protested your lack of a proper lunch.

You sunk into your couch and scrolled through the holofeed once you’d had a meal and put everything away. Your mind was still running a mile a minute, forcing you to pick something less demanding so you could tackle its needs.

What else would you settle on but Parks and Rec?

You hadn’t watched it since you showed it to Din. Your heart warmed at the memory, seeing him get so invested and begin to form bonds with characters that meant so much to you already. You listened with one ear while you got lost in your thoughts, attempting to digest the endless finalities that came with the day.

You’d gone through the grief of parting with the children before leaving the school, taking a last look around and mentally saying one last farewell to them before locking up the room. But your mind kept wandering back to Grogu. You hoped he was doing okay. Even with the expectation of a tough farewell far in advance, nothing could’ve fully prepared him to go through it.

You understood the feeling. Some goodbyes are too harsh, too sudden. And if one experiences enough of them, each instance afterwards will feel as though there isn’t enough time in the galaxy to do it right. It hurt to consider just how many times he’d gone through that.

Din had messaged you earlier to say that Grogu was calmer, that he was handling it better than he had in the past. You were pleased that he was slowly but surely working through it, though it did nothing to quell your desire to help him get there faster. You took a deep breath. There will be time for that, you reminded yourself.

Your mind moved onto Bo. You didn’t see him at all during the day, and now you were confident you’d never see him again. The thought brought a small grin to your face. No one messes with your kids and gets away unharmed. Though he would’ve had much more harm come his way if Din had gotten a hold of him.

You were reminded of that day in the courtyard, seeing Din march towards the gate with pure anger radiating off his person. It was jarring; even though his prior career and experiences implied he was legitimately a dangerous person, that moment had been your first taste of it. He resembled a mother Mudhorn protecting her young.

A glance behind you had keyed you into his intentions, and despite being worried he’d bulldoze through your arm in his fit of fury, stopping him had to be done. But after that you couldn’t get the image of Din punching Bo in the face out of your head. Oh, the pure satisfaction that would’ve brought.

It would’ve been like the incident at the diner, you thought with a laugh.

Your foot began to tap, your body growing more restless at the thought of Din. There was so much to say, so much he’s given you that you wanted to acknowledge. But were words enough? Was there enough time in this life to get through it all? You sighed and rested your head in your hands, playing through the progression of your relationship with him.

Before you met Din, you were a workaholic that quite literally did nothing but serve the needs of others. Despite loving your job, the attachment you gave it to your sense of purpose wasn’t healthy. When Din came into the picture, he became a friend, and somehow brought you out of the pit you weren’t aware you were stuck in. When the tides of life grew high and the waters unfriendly, he was at your side, cheering you on and helping you swim to safety.

It was new. But it didn’t take long for you to start liking it.

You turned your head back to the holofeed. Leslie was talking to Ben in the Smallest Park, asking for forgiveness and confessing how she truly felt about him.

“I miss you like crazy. I think about you all the time. I wanna be with you. So let’s just say ‘screw it!’”

You smiled. How many times had similar thoughts tormented your mind, almost slipping out while Din was here? Too many to count. It was almost nauseating to think you’d be able to actually say them next time you saw him.

Seeing Ben embrace Leslie with such ferocity, like that’s all he’d been wanting to do since they broke up, squeezed your heart. It was like you were feeling for yourself the way their hearts had been tearing for each other. And in that moment, they began to mend them into one. Not that you were expecting Din to immediately take you into his arms and make out with you, but nonetheless the scene had you wondering how things would go when the time to see him finally came.

Your comm buzzed beside you. It was a message from Din, as if you’d summoned him with a mere thought. You opened it up and cradled the comm in your hands.

‘Grogu’s finally asleep. I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on him just in case he wakes up. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, if that’s okay.’

You couldn’t help smiling while you typed out a response. One more night. One more night, and then nothing would be the same.

It was a notion that typically had you cowering in fear. But now you were aching for it.

****

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