#mostly doing this to gauge interest/how much reach i have

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 6 | drunken confessions

tags: alcohol, drunk steve, sober eddie, post-canon, vague references to period-typical homophobia

By all calculations, Steve shouldn’t be this drunk.

Eddie knows Steve only had three beers – one during Corroded Coffin’s set, and he was halfway through a second when Eddie finally caught up with him after the show, and he started on his third while they were hanging out at the bar.

(Exactly why Eddie knows this is entirely irrelevant, and it has nothing to do with how he'd had one eye on Steve throughout the entire performance trying to gauge how much he might be into it. Definitely not).

Eddie had seen Steve “Keg King” Harrington in the flesh enough times to feel pretty confident that he holds his alcohol better than this but…fuck, if Steve isn’t absolutely sloshed, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed red, and he doesn't seem to have any idea how precariously he's swaying in his bar-stool.

It's fine. Steve's a pretty quiet drunk on the whole, and Eddie gets sorta wired after shows – extra adrenaline or something – so Steve is mostly just listening to him ramble about whatever happens to cross his brain, which isn't a bad way to spend an evening, all things considered.

Midway through an entirely one-sided debate over the merits of starting guitar lessons on electric versus acoustic, Steve reaches over and pushes a curl of hair falling into his eye-line off his forehead with just the tips of his fingers.

Eddie trails off, losing track of his sentence entirely as his eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s face and the hand still hovering by his forehead. He blinks a few times, his parted lips just as forgotten as the end of his sentence.

Eddie knows there’s a kind of question in his eyes when they finally hold firm on Steve’s.

Eventually, after a few beats of silence, Steve supplies, “I like your hair.”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie lifts his chin, still looking at Steve like he doesn’t know what to make of him.

“I like you,” Steve continues, and Eddie feels himself freeze for a moment, a nervous kind of shock running down his spine because, fuck, he's big enough to admit he's fantasized about hearing those words come out of Steve's mouth more than once (way more than once), but his voice was also abnormally loud, and while it’s definitely an interesting little tidbit on Steve’s part, he really doesn’t need the rest of the goddamn Hideout knowing it too. 

“I mean,” Steve continued, “Seriously, I’m, like, super into–”

“Alright,” Eddie cuts him off as he grabs the back of Steve’s jacket, yanking him off the stool and dragging him down the hall, past the bathrooms, and out the back door into the gloomy alleyway. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve!" Eddie exclaims once the door firmly closes behind them, "You can’t just – fuck, man, you’re gonna get us killed!”

“No,” Steve argues, and Eddie’s eyebrows fly up.

“Oh, okay, never mind I guess,” he shot back, “Sure, let’s go back in there, maybe make out on the bar for a while. What could possibly go wrong?”

"Okay," Steve replies simply, reaching forward to clumsily hook fingers around Eddie's belt loops, "You wanna?"

“Uh, no,” Eddie replied, and he regretted it immediately when he saw the look on Steve’s face. He shook his head, desperately trying to course-correct, “I dunno what kind of boys you’ve been kissing, but I certainly don’t take advantage of guys when they’re too drunk to remember anything the next morning.”

"Not kissing any other boys," Steve slurs, "Just waiting for you." He blinks at him for a moment, then says, "Do you...I sorta thought you might..."

Eddie swallowed nervously, because despite his earlier comment, he doesn't actually think Steve is so drunk that he won't remember any of this tomorrow, which means he's gonna remember this: "Yeah, I like you, Steve. Jesus Christ, I like you loads."

And Steve's mouth split into the biggest, dopiest grin Eddie's ever seen, and, fuck, yeah, he wants to kiss him. He really wants to kiss him.

"Tomorrow morning too?" Steve asks hopefully.

Eddie can't help a little laugh as he nods, "Definitely tomorrow morning too. Probably time to head out, though, for now."

"Okay," Steve nods, and so Eddie untangles Steve's hand from his belt loop, clasping it firmly in his own when he's done (because he can do that, he thinks). As they head for Eddie's van, Steve adds, "Y'know, I bet if you rolled all the windows down I'd sober up on the way back."

"Sure you will, sweetheart."

[doink-boink]

Finally drew my interpretation of Zach's parents!

Have had these fellows in the works for a good while!

Really had to lock in when doing the writing here lol - my handwriting is normally a weird hyper mix between cursive and print. But messier. Hopefully its legible! Enjoy some more yapping about these guys below the cut >:D

Must mention this is within my own AU! My interpretation of Zach specifically is a trans man. So uh! No way in hell Arthur is supportive in that regard. He is a miserable man whose only concern is furthering the family business and his public image.

Really looked to both Moral Orel and Bojack Horseman as inspiration for how these two would be. Did not intend for Arthur to share a name with the character he is inspired by lol - but uhm! He specifically is like Arthur Puppington when Clay was a kid: Distant, cold, though not physically abusive. Emotionally? Oh brother, you bet.

Regarding Kim and Arthur's relationship, that was really dead in the water. Kim is a self published author, or rather, an ASPIRING self published author. She mostly writes crime novellas/dramas, though needed some outsider input regarding the legal side of her stories. So, of course, she decides to reach out to the biggest law firm in the area.

It is initially a short and sweet interaction: "I ask you questions, you give me answers and insight when you can." However, she grows to enjoy Arthur's company, falling for him quickly. VERY rushed marriage ensues! Good god! (Of course not ASAP, within a few months time of dating/correspondence) Not too certain as of right now where Zach comes into the mix, but definitely in that honeymoon stage of a relationship where you don't quite know the person yet to really gauge if things will work out or not.

I mean, things absolutely do NOT work out in the end, but they don't know that yet. Arthur I feel is the type to want a family ASAP. Need that sweet sweet heir to the company. Will accept nothing less than a son. Sucks for him, doesn't end up coming to fruition until much later! AFAB child, disappointment on Arthur's behalf, compassion on Kim's. Like a night and day difference - even after Zach does eventually transition (his mother is deceased by this point) his father refuses to accept it until he dies. By until I mean: "You still are not my son." *flatline*

Kim was there for Zach until the day she died, which would probably be around late middle school to early highschool? In that age range. Old enough to have fond and in depth memories. Which! Arthur is the one who discovers what had happened. Busy writing a novel when wham, sudden cardiac arrest - alone, as she tended to keep to herself. Entire family dynamic changes from then onward, though the abusive aspects of it were ever present. Arthur is generally unsupportive of Zach's endeavors, frustrated that he is going into science and robotics as opposed to law. (Though I do think he'd have been trained or prepped for a career as a lawyer throughout his teens-adolescence)

Zach is the closest to his mother, with most of his fashion sense coming from her. Gotta love the turtleneck sweater! @novazentryx came up with the idea that he inherited his early black sweater from Tazzy Chris from her after it shrunk in the wash, loved that so y'know what! This totally applies here. Not only did he inherit the sweater, but also her V-necklace! (Which, if you have seen Zoey, is where she gets it from! As well as she looks strikingly similar to Kim. On that front I think that was a surprise from Aviva, knowing how close he was to her)

Spitballing with this one, but I think it would be interesting if Zach had assisted in pitching ideas for Kim's stories! What aspects of it I do not know, but maybe names for the characters. Mayhaps that is where he gets ZACH from? Don't ask what his deadname is, haven't thought of that and would prefer not to lol

I think that concludes my rambling! Do not really have anything else that is coming to mind at the moment, so feel free to ask questions or leave suggestions about these two! I will more than likely respond ^^ (To asks or replies) Thank you for humoring me and reading all of this if you're here lol, I really appreciate it!!

[blackjackkent]

Fight against the gith did not go horribly although I suspect that's mostly because we're on easy mode. Highlight was definitely when Rakha blew three people up with a fireball, and then wildmagic surged and poisoned everyone else on the field including herself. We also blew up most of the Emperor's remaining furniture, except for this table which is apparently made of titanium:

Also made my first attack actually having Minsc throw Boo at an enemy, which I somehow never did with Hector. Boo did three damage, took no damage himself, and (deeply charmingly) inflicted "Blinded." GO FOR THE EYES, BOO!

The Emperor is, of course, pleased that we took the gith out of its old house.

The outer room area is an interesting snapshot in time. It contains many documents relating to the Knights' operations while the Emperor was running it. Most of the details are lost on Rakha, but she can gauge the general sense of an organization with a very long reach, poking into lands she has never even heard of and managing a tremendous amount of goods and information.

Despite the Emperor's promise to reveal the path, it didn't say a damn word about how to get into the inner sanctum; Rakha had to perception-check the button herself.

The inner sanctum is definitely a strange experience, and tbh this is all very interestingly timed for Rakha. Under the circumstances, this reads like the Emperor realizing its grip on Rakha is slipping and trying to "humanize" itself to regain influence.

There's a pretty wide variety of items in here.

(A/N: Still deeply proud of the deep-cut reference I picked up on here last time that blew the Emperor's identity wide open for me hours and hours in advance.)

Honestly I'm not sure how much this all actually works on Rakha. She's feeling so jumbled about her relationship with the Emperor but the truth is it has not really had anything to do with it being illithid; it's about how it behaved when they were rescuing Minsc, and how Minsc talked about it afterwards. So learning more about how it was once a person who liked soup and had a pet dog isn't really that resonant with the core problem that it has been a dick to her and to someone she strongly relates to.

She does take the sword though, and gives it to Minthara, but that's really the only useful thing that comes out of the whole experience.

[kame-writes]

Cannibals Curse Part 5

- Questions and Answers

Alastor watched Rosie being the perfect host, pouring them both tea from an intricately designed teapot. There was a small display of finger foods on a tiered display nearby, mostly sweets, which he wasn't a fan of, but also a curious assortment of actual fingers in paper casing. 

It was so odd, to physically see cannibalism accepted and accommodated for, but he supposed since they were in Cannibal Town, it stood to reason. He vaguely remembered her chewing on a hand, but his memory of their meeting was hazy at best.

“Forgive me if this is an odd question. But I don't seem to recall much of what happened before you offered to bring me here.” He admitted, taking the offered cup and drinking some while he tried to think of how to word his questions.

“Was that just another quirk of death? Because I felt like a man possessed. I've killed people before, as I've mentioned. Same for cannibalism. But never… anything close to that.” Not that blacking out and killing hadn't happened before. But only with his first ever kill. He saw red and woke up covered in blood then too, but this was different, he wasn't himself in the most literal way. 

Rosie sighed, reaching up to remove her hat Pin and hat, placing it on the seat beside her, getting more comfortable for the potentially uncomfortable conversation. “I'm afraid it's a curse for cannibals like us. Apparently gluttony is a sin that warrants extra punishment.” She huffed, clearly not happy with the situation herself. “You'll never feel fully satisfied, I'm afraid. The hunger doesn't go away, but trust me, you'll get used to it in time. I barely even notice it anymore.”

“I'd hardly call myself gluttonous.” He scoffed, but took in the fact that this was something shared between the two of them, and probably most of the town he now found himself in. He wasn't sure if he was happy to not be alone in this, or annoyed that he was just part of a statistic down here. “So I take it, that it is something that happens to everyone? The animalistic urge. The body distortion?”

“Not everyone can distort themselves like you did. I was surprised to say the least when I saw it.” Rosie really had expected the poor sod ripped apart to the freshly fallen soul at first, before she realised what she was looking at. “Usually that's something only certain Overlords can do, or very powerful sinners at least. You already having that kind of strength isn't common.” 

“Overlords?” Alastor asked curiously. He very much needed to understand the hierarchy of this place if he was going to make a name for himself. Because he already knew that he wasn't going to just fade into the crowds and keep his head down. No, this was mearly a new hunting ground for him, a new and exciting dance. And he intended to learn all the steps before he went freestyle with it.

“Hmm? Oh! Hah, you seem so unphased by this, I keep forgetting ya only fell today.” Rosie laughed. “Overlords are people who own territory in the city. Usually you gain power by acquiring soul contracts, and defending ya territory.”

“So. You are the overlord of Cannibals, I take it?” He had an inkling that she might be some form of elected offical already, but now it was clear that she was actually some form of powerful entity aswell. Interesting. He did indeed have a talent for accidently stumbling across the right people. “I hope you aren't expecting my soul.” He added teasingly, to gauge her reaction.

“I already told you, I don't expect anything from you.” It would be wrong. Rosie didn't like to feel she manipulated people into a deal, he was too new, and still figuring things out. “Most of the souls in my possession are given willingly though. I can promise that yours is perfectly safe unless you wish to give it away.” She assured, not missing the way he was trying to see if she had ulterior motives.

“Good to know.” He put down his cup and eyed the severed fingers on display. “So, what triggers this curse? Because I doubt you'd be offering me severed body parts if eating it would cause me to become a beast.”

“It's usually the smell of blood. Which is why a lot of my people don't leave our little town unless they can control it. All our butchers drain the blood, so it's quite harmless for you to eat.” She demonstrated this by popping one for the fingers in her mouth, chewing it like it was nothing more than a normal morsal. 

“So, you keep your people close and loyal by providing them something they wouldn't get outside of your walls… That's rather clever actually.” He had to admire the system, everybody wins. Rosie got power and control, and in return, her subjects feel safe and understood in a way they wouldn't anywhere else. A perfect symbiotic community.

“Day one and you're already analyzing things. Planning how to rise in the ranks so soon? My, you don't start small, do ya handsome?” Rosie was amused watching this fresh-faced sinner already scheming. She'd have to keep a close eye on this one, he was going to cause a stir, she could already tell. “Hope you're not planning on overthrowing me as the new Cannibal Overlord?”

“Bold of you to assume we couldn't rule side by side.” Alastor said easily. He didn't flirt, he wasn't interested in that kind if thing, but he knew what people liked to hear, and he could see a potential friendship with Rosie.

Alastor pushed his hair away from his face, annoyed by the way it hung down when he leaned forwards to retrieve his cup. 

He stole a length of ribbon from his flouncy jacket, gathering his hair up behind him, before sighing and letting it fall back down. Of course it would be barely half an inch too short to prevent him from tying it back as he usually would. He guessed he was stuck with it long and loose. Lovely. Hell truly did make every little thing an inconvenience, didn't it?

“Now, I think there's a place downtown you can stay at for now, while you're finding your feet. But then we're going to have to discuss if you're staying here, and what’s going to happen.” Rosie said, in a kind, but matter of fact manner. “I like your moxie, but I won't let people take advantage of my generosity. No matter how charming they are.”

“Naturally.” Alastor supposed that was a very fair offer, he wasn't expecting a free ride of it after all. He wouldn't accept one even if it was offered, he was raised better than that. 

“Well then. To new friends?” Rosie raised her cup in a mock toast, tilted in invitation for Alastor to join in.

“To a new start in Hell.” Alastor added, bringing his own glass to hers with a clinck. Needless to say, this was not how he expected his life to turn out, but he would persevere, same as he always had; With a smile on his face, and blood in his teeth. 

Hell isn't going to know what hit it when he's through with them.

Prev -

[shapeshiftersvt]

Hi! I was talking with my university's queer center recently about binders and helping people get them, and the idea of an events series where people can make their own was discussed (multiple sewing machine owners were part of this conversation and planned to lend theirs)

So I remembered that you guys at some point (idk if you still do?) had a diy kit, and I wanted to ask about how long those take to assemble? Obviously it would vary a lot by experience but just. Very roughly? (I'd also like to you know if you would be able to do bulk order of them but that would probably be a more nuanced thing and this is very far from planned out lol) I'm mostly trying to gauge feasibility of planning something like this

Thank you so much! Sorry if these questions are difficult to answer with the information given

Hi! Yessss, hooray for sew-your-own binder events!

We do indeed have kits! Assembly does vary a lot by experience, and also by machine - are there sergers available? How fast does your machine do a zigzag hem on multiple layers? Are you putting in a zipper?

That said, it's not that long a project. Cut the pattern, cut the fabric, four seams, adjust to fit, four hems. I think most people can get it done in a day.

We absolutely can offer discounts on bulk orders. Email eli@shapeshifters.co to get that set up. We've done this for several queer center groups already.

And finally: we're starting to teach Sew-Your-Own workshops in October! If your uni would be interested in having us, please do tell them to reach out.

[amourdeslangues]

i wish i'd been encouraged to develop my skills in maths more when i was at school

because i feel like i could actually have been really good at it! i remember when i was a lot younger and very interested in maths, and i even participated in a couple of maths competitions... but everyone was always focusing on how i excelled at languages and writing and creative things, and it never really occurred to me that i could be good at maths and science

and i remember being so enthusiastic about the subject when i was in seventh grade (8th, maybe? not sure), participating in class all the time, trying really hard. and at the end of term, even though i aced the exams, my grade for in-class participation was way lower than i expected it to be. my teacher told me "you speak up a lot, i can see you're trying, but you make too many mistakes. it's not good enough."

so for... idk... 12-year old me, the logical conclusion was that i just suck at this. i liked the subject, but i wasn't good enough at it, and i never would be.

not long after that, the pandemic started. during lockdown, no one gave a shit whether you were putting in effort and doing well or not. (once i didn't hand in any assignments for two months, which is a whole other story to unpack, and nobody ever reached out to me.) so there was no one to encourage me, to say - hey, you could be good at this if you put in the effort.

that didn't change until 11th grade. i had a maths and chemistry teacher who actually made class enjoyable, who made me want to try my best.

we had to do a test at the beginning of the year so he could gauge our strengths and weaknesses and plan the lesson accordingly, and i got... idk... 98% or something? far ahead of everyone else. i was top of my class in every exam that followed. i discussed concepts that interested me with this teacher. i remember two occasions where i worked on finding proofs for theorems we'd talked about in class, because i felt like the general lessons weren't in-depth enough and i wanted to gain a better understanding.

this teacher was the first one to notice my interest in that sort of thing. he tried to convince me to take part in a programme that would allow me to attend university-level maths classes while still being in high school (pretty uncommon where i live, but not unheard of). he even talked to my mum about how i was gifted and how my skills had to be nurtured and developed. i was baffled. i had been thinking of myself as being mostly mediocre at anything STEM-related up until very recently, and i still had a really hard time imagining myself in that field.

i ultimately declined the offer to take maths at uni. while i felt flattered, some part of me still couldn't comprehend that it was actually realistic, and i thought i'd be better off focusing on my high school studies and graduating with top marks. after all, maths weren't my true passion, right? i've always been into literature and languages and there's never been a doubt that my career is going to be in that field. so... best to keep everything the way that it was.

(side note: i did, however, follow this teacher's suggestion to take part in chemistry competitions, which i'm still really grateful for, and had a lot of fun doing)

the following year, i had a different maths teacher, who was nice, but i never got the impression that she really cared. i aced all my exams without really thinking much about that fact, continued working hard with graduation as the primary goal. i still looked for more in-depth material on my own when i had some spare time, read a couple of books on advanced mathematics, still tried to understand the logic behind the theorems that we were taught as unquestionable facts, still tried to formulate my own proofs occasionally.

i got a perfect score on my final maths exam (as well as on the other finals) and graduated high school.

lately i've just been thinking of what i could have had. i feel like i'm looking back and seeing so many missed opportunities, so much wasted potential. what might have been if i hadn't stopped participating in maths contests at some point, if i'd gone on to higher levels of competition? if i'd been encouraged to learn about the subject beyond the curriculum (which i now think i would have been capable of)?

maybe i wouldn't have excelled. maybe i would have ended up being... not mediocre exactly, but skilled in comparison to other students my age rather than in general. i think i would have had fun, if nothing else - but maybe i would have decided that it wasn't for me after all.

but i never got to find out. i never really tried. i was not even encouraged to entertain the possibility of trying until i felt like it was already too late. and that's what bugs me, that remaining thought of: what if?

i don't want to go around blaming my past teachers, my schools, my social environment. maybe the fact that i didn't persevere despite all of this shows that i wasn't passionate enough about the subject after all.

but still, i wonder what could have been, and i don't know what to do about it.

[jeanjauthor]

ok not about writing but i saw your comment on the amber pins post and i was wondering, what are your top 3 favorite fun facts? i’d appreciate any knowledge you care to share ^-^

Oh good lord, just 3??

The problem with me is that I'm a terminal research junkie, a perpetual student, a collector of information hopefully will some day be useful in a story (or possibly in real life)...so I know so much random shht...

Okay, first fun fact:

David Canterbury (one of the more well-known figures in the survival & bushcrafting worlds in social media, youtube etc) constantly talks about the 5 Cs of Survival: Cutting tool (knife, axe, etc), Combustion device (ferrorod, bic lighter, whatever), Cordage (rope, thread, etc; paracord is often suggested because you can break it down from a sturdy rope to many fine fibers, though Canterbury also recommends bank line, lightly tarred twined rope or cords that can sorta do the same thing), Cover (clothing being your first & foremost form of shelter against the elements, followed by tarp, tent, etc), and Container (canteen for holding water, metal cup or pot for boiling it, etc).

He also talks about an additional 5 Cs (for a total of 10 Cs) of survival tools: Candling device (flashlight, candle, oil lamp, etc, so you can see at night), Compass (literally, a way to determine magnetic north and to determine degrees in a circle so that you know where you're going and where you've been), Cloth sail needle (also called a Canvas needle, a strong sturdy needle with a largish eye you can put thread through, or even improvised cordage made from plant materials, etc, which tends to be way thicker than the usual thread), Cotton kerchief (useful for turning into a makeshift sling or tourniquet, as bandaging material, as a filtering device to get coarse materials and sediment out of water, and in a pinch, tinder material for lighting a fire), and Cargo tape (duct or duck tape, which can be used in the usual ways of sealing things, but can also be used to make a waterproof bag, and can be burned as a form of fire starter).

(If you're interested in the 10 Cs, this article covers them, too: https://blog.ucogear.com/the-10-cs-with-dave-canterbury/ )

But did you know there are additional Cs of advanced survival?

Cartography would be maps and navigation skills, but it can also includes things like astronomy for gauging latitude & longitude, and how to use landmarks to navigate terrain. (aka "You'll see a huge black oak, bigger than anything, at the fork in the road, so you'll want to take the left-hand path if it's daylight because the way is rough, but if it's nighttime or bad visibility, take the right-hand path, but it'll take you about five miles longer to reach your destination, since that goes arount the mountain...") GPS and Google Maps, Life 360, etc, are great if you can get cellphone reception, but sometimes even a satellite phone cannot get a signal out...and if your cellphone gets destroyed or the battery dies, you'll need a backup plan.

Care covers things like medicines. If you have to take medication daily, always have 2-5 days' worth of extra meds on you when you go hiking. It also covers a first aid kit, tick removal equipment, and more, but even so much as a simple bar of soap in a waterproof container, or a bottle of hand sanitizer, can save your life, because you will want to clean any scratches to prevent infection (which has killed more soldiers throughout history than combat itself ever has). (Plus the hand sanitizer can act as a flame extender when starting a fire.) Mostly, though, I want folks to remember that if you take medication, you need to have an extra supply on hand when you go hiking or camping or on a long trip, just in case you injure yourself and can't get back home again quickly. (Also carry your prescription information! Most prescription documentation from pharmacies have a summary section similar to the lable on the bottle that you can snip out and stick into your wallet; if you run out, get rescued, and need to be checked out by the nearest clinic or hospital, it's good to have this information instantly on hand!)

Courage is one of the least acknowledged yet most important aspects of survival. Thankfully, courage is something everyone can carry with them, even if they've been stripped buck-nekkid. The will to survive has been the deciding factor more than once in whether or not a person makes it out alive. Courage helps you get past the fears of your situation to find the strength and the wits to survive. You can find your strength and determination when focusing on your own survival, or you can find it when you think of your loved ones and not wanting them to suffer, or you can draw comfort and energy from both sources. Fear saps energy, and despair drains it away into a sense of hopelessness. Your mentality of courage will help you to search for what you need, and help give you the strength to do what must be done.

Contentment is another intangible survival skill. This one is even more subtle, because it means letting go of expectations of higher comfort levels & better conditions. If you have a tarp to keep you dry in a rainstorm, don't whine about how you don't have an RV to hide in, or worse, a 5-star hotel. You're going to make yourself miserable and feel hopelessness & despair if you're constantly comparing what you don't have to your current conditions and whining about it. If you've got the first 5 Cs, you've got a tarp and cordage to set it up to keep the rain off you, a campfire to keep you warm, a container to boil water to keep you from getting dehydrated (and also warm you up from the inside), and a cutting tool to keep the wood going and to defend yourself against attacks. You're alive, and you're going to get out of this fine. Contentment is acknowledging you could be suffering but are not, and allowing yourself to be happy with the fact you have shelter, heat, water, etc. If you don't release your expectations of a higher level of comfort, you're going to waste your remaining energy, and you'll be too stressed out to rest.

Composure is another intangible skill. Are you the sort who panics in an emergency? Nothing to be ashamed about because lots of people do that, but the big difference lies in practicing in advance what to do, and how to do it, and how to think about it. Bystanders leap into action to save a toddler about to toddle off the sidewalk and into traffic because they've run it through their mind that "If X happens, I will do Y to fix it." Having a game plan, a pre-hike mindset, will help you stay calm in an emergency, which will allow you to conserve your energy, figure out what to do, and do it. You can have a nervous breakdown afterward when there is time & the luxury to do so, but in the moment, practice until you can think and act during an emergency. You can be an absolute mess and still be courageous. You can find contentment in a survival situation...but usually only after the scary bits are over and done with. First you gotta get through those scary bits. Composure--keeping a cool head, forcing yourself to think your way through your options quickly & realistically--will help you to survive.

There are other Cs as well, but those are the main ones off the top of my head...and yes, I have weird tastes in fun facts. Speaking of which!

Second fun fact:

There are over 20,000 edible plants around the world. We only really cultivate about 100 of them in earnest (and 20 of them provide 90% of our plant-based calories), but there is so much more that we could be eating, it's amazing!

Did you know that maple seeds are edible? Yes, you have to remove the husk-and-wing part, but the seeds themselves are edible! And do you know how many leafy greens we aren't consuming? Carrot greens, beet greens, radish greens, chock full of micronutrients and vitamins, trace minerals and the like. Acorns used to be a huge part of the human diet. They need to have the bitter tannins leached out of them (a tedious step that manufacturers didn't want to bother with on an industrial scale until somewhat recently), but they're also full of nutrition as well as carbs and fats.

Common weeds in the cracks of sidewalk can also be eaten, like the vaguely pineapple-looking "fuzzy" wild chamomile, juicy purslane, or even clover, with edible leaves and roots (which can be eaten raw like beansprouts being cleaned, but really should be cooked low & slow to convert their inulin into more digestible sugars). Clover roots were considered a huge springtime feasting delicacy by the indigenous Coastal Salish peoples of Washington & British Columbia, which they would dig up and pile up in huge mounds, then put them into roasting pits with hot rocks to bake all day.

Corollary: Food forest savannahs are a sustainable permaculture way to get a wide variety of foods growing in healthy harmony in a modest space. Monoculture is great for mass production of food, but it isn't sustainable because it robs the soil of vital micronutrients, and wrecks the local ecology. Standard fertilization techniques really only restores half a dozen or so macronutrients (phosphorus, nitrogen, etc) in monoculture fields, but creating a system of narrow grassy fields (to grow grains, etc) between beds of trees, bushes, and groundcover plants allows leaf litter from the trees to fall on the field and restore some nutrients. Grazing your livestock in those grassy alleyways allows their dung to be deposited where scarab beetles and other forces of nature compost and redistribute that biomatter into the soil.

The bushes and trees growing on the margins have access to more sunlight overall (heavy forest canopies don't exactly allow enough sunlight to reach down for good growing health for the shorter plants), and companion planting helps restore the soil naturally--clover and beans for fixing nitrogen into the soil, for example. Adding in species that flower at different times of the year helps support a healthy pollinator population. Perennials such as fruit & nut trees and berry bushes can remain, but annuals or biennials (leeks, garlic, and other plants that take 2 years to mature & seed) can be cycled in and out every few years...

You can grow enough of these things to be commercially viable as a farm, but you don't have to have the acreage of a farm to benefit. An apartment balcony would be fine, or even a table in front of a sun-facing window would work. You can grow a variety of things in pots and planters. And if you have a house with a yard, you can replace your non-food plants with a variety of species that will help you and your family (and neighbors!) have healthier diets and healthier lives. (If you have an HOA and it blocks this sort of thing, attend the meetings, get on the board, and work to change the highly restrictive rules to allow food gardens.) Work with your neighbors in educating them on the many benefits and beauties of food forest style landscaping.

(Fun bonus side-fact: Dandelions have such long, strong tap-roots because they are trying to draw calcium up to the surface from the depths of the soil...so if you have a lot of dandelions in your garden, consider investing in a bag of bonemeal, etc, because it means your soil is calcium-deficient!)

Fun Fact #3:

You can be best friends with someone you've never even met. *waves at the entire internet and its many ways to connect with people around the world* BFF status is not dependent on physically meeting a person.

I have 3 BFFs. One of them I met in school and lives just a couple miles away at most. One of them I met in school and she lives almost halfway around the world from me. One of them I've met online, lives on the far side of the continent, and I may never ever see her in person (q.q for not being able to share hugs in person), but each of us supports the other through hard times as well as good ones.

Fun Fact #4:

(an extra one just for funsies...)

Humans have been humaning for tens of thousands of years. The grafitti scrawled on the walls of Pompeii & Herculaneum is very very similar in content to the grafitti scrawled on the restroom walls of the AFK Tavern a dozen miles from where I currently live.

The first signs of civilization wasn't agriculture or writing or even domesticating wolves. It belongs to a skeleton from tens of thousands of years ago where the person lived with a badly broken leg for over ten years afterward (as judged by the post-break healing done by the bones) before finally passing away. That injury was so bad, someone had to help take care of them for all ten of those years just so they could survive, and that means humans have been caring about other humans for a very long time.

And Ea-Nasir. Oh, how we tumblrites love Ea-Nasir! Not for his craptastic quality copper ingots! We condemn Ea-Nasir for his craptastically poor quality copper! No, we love Ea-Nasir because someone complained about his craptastic-quality crummy copper...a very human thing to do...and because he kept the clay tablet of that complaint as a proud piece of correspondence. Also a very human thing to do. (...And quite possibly for ancient arson, since the clay tablets in his house were baked because his house caught on fire...which could have been an accident, but which also could have been not so much an accident...because he had several other complaint tablets as well!) This one complaint tablet and the fact its recipient proudly kept it is so very human.

Compassion, complaints, and correspondence showcasing cultural attitudes. Humans have been humaning very undeniably for tens of thousands of years.

For us writers, this means that though we may have to watch which words and phrases we use...we can still confidently write someone from Ancient Babylon and have them act in believably human ways.

[threelittlepigspro]

How to Do Lead Generation for Real Estate (No Door Knocks)

Yes, real estate in Singapore is lucrative. Selling a resale condo can earn over $30,000 in commission before splitting with a buyer’s agent. The Singaporean real estate market is highly saturated, with numerous agents competing for the same pool of potential real estate transactors.

One of the biggest challenges agents face is generating high qualified leads that trust them: standing out in a crowded market. You can't be selling just properties anymore, you got to develop a strong personal brand and unique selling propositions (USP) about YOU!

Here are Broad Strategies to Differentiate Yourself

Niche Down and Specialise Specialise in a particular type of property or market segment, such as luxury condos, first time upgraders or first-time homebuyers. This focus allows you become an authority in that area​. Heart doctors get paid more than general practitioners. Specialists get paid more than general practitioners. You can't sell everything to everyone. Build a Personal Brand It is no longer enough to showcase properties. You got to sell YOU! Your personal brand that reflects your values, expertise, and personality.  Case Studies Testimonials Use client testimonials and case studies to build trust. Use case studies to demonstrate your successes and how you've helped clients reach their real estate goals. Include these case studies, testimonials and stories in online presentations to show how you helped clients succeed in real estate. They can be helping a married couple to upgrade from HDB to a condominium. Or helping a high net worth client optimize their real estate portfolio, helping them plan for their children... etc.

Pros and Cons of Traditional and Outbound Marketing

I receive flyers every other day at my HDB estate for real estate. There is also the occasional agent going about door knocking. Flyers and door knocking are under the category of traditional marketing.  Flyers and Physical Mail Pros: Tangible Impact:  Flyers and physical mail may create a lasting impression and is more likely to be remembered than digital ads​. Targeted Reach: Focusing on specific neighbourhoods or demographics, you can ensure that your message reaches the right audience​. For example, HDB estates that have recently hit their minimum occupancy period. Cons: Costly: High quality flyers and postage can be expensive. Lower Engagement Rates: Many recipients may ignore or discard physical mail without reading it​.

Door Knocking Pros: Direct Contact: Provides an opportunity to speak directly with potential clients and address their questions or concerns​. Immediate Feedback: This allows agents to gauge interest and adjust their pitch in real-time​. Cons: - Time-Consuming: These methods require a significant time investment and may not always show immediate results​ - Intrusive: Some prospects may view cold calling and door knocking as invasive, which can lead to negative interactions​. - Not Scalable: Let's be serious, how many HDB neighbourhoods can you knock at one go? How Much Can You Stand Out as a Thought Leader, Expert and Authority through These Methods? However, the problem with door knocking and flyers is that they are both un-persuasive. They don't position you as an authority or a brand. The majority of flyers I receive are bland and are ignored. Yes, they may be nicely designed. However, they mostly aren't written in a manner that gets me to know, like and trust the agent on the flyers. Secondly, if everyone in the real estate industry is doing the same thing, sending the same type of flyers... are you really that different? Since we’re a digital marketing agency and of course we are biased. I highly recommend building an online marketing system for real estate lead generation for agents.

Three Biggest Benefits of Online Marketing Systems 

Systems are Scalable: Inputs and Outputs, easily scalable to a seven figure million dollar system Pre qualify leads -> people who don’t attend your online webinars or book a call with you aren’t really qualified The data captured is re-marketable through SMS and email marketing By posting and distributing high quality content posted online, you can differentiate yourself as an authority in the industry The ability to easily differentiate, stand out through visuals -> images, videography

How to Build an Online Marketing Clients Getting System for Real Estate

Yes, online webinars are inherently difficult to execute and perform. There is a lot of setup and technical expertise required that goes into online webinars. Yet, it can be a major differentiator in the market. That is because it is inherently difficult to do. Highly Relevant Topics Live webinars and online presentations allows you to focus on topics that address common questions or challenges faced by buyers and sellers in your market​. Efficiency One stone to kill multiple birds? Yes, online marketing, preparing and conducting a webinar can reach hundreds of potential clients at once, making it a more time-effective method than door-to-door visits. Position Yourself as an Expert Invite industry experts or guest speakers to join your webinars. This not only enhances the quality of your presentations but also associates your brand with recognized figures in the industry, boosting your authority. Engage and Educate Use webinars as a tool to educate your audience about the real estate process, from buying and selling to investing. Educated clients are going to trust your advice and perceive you a go-to expert in the field. Targeted Marketing Only interested participants are going to sign up to attend. This is a pre-qualifier. Online webinars also allow for more accurate audience targeting through registration forms that collect data on attendees’ preferences and problems faced. This enables real estate agents to customize their webinars to the audience’s specific needs. Highlight Success Stories Through webinars, you can showcase your testimonials and success stories from satisfied clients to build trust and credibility​.

The system is not complicated: Ad -> Landing Page -> Live webinar -> Book a Call -> Use email or sms to follow up. Then simply repeat and optimise this through feedback.

Re Marketing Through Email Marketing and SMS Follow Ups

Email marketing and SMS follow ups through data capture on landing pages can help you nurture leads effectively over time: Promote Your High Quality Content: You can create automated emails or broadcast  valuable information that adds value to your audience. Track Engagement: Use analytics to monitor open rates, click-through rates, and conversions to refine your campaigns. If you are not comfortable with webinars, then you can consider lead magnets. Lead magnets are valuable resources offered in exchange for contact information, helping you grow your email or sms database. You can develop guides, checklists, or e-books that provide value to potential clients, such as a homebuyer's guide or selling tips​. Then promote them in opt in pages on your online platforms and drive paid traffic to it.

Best Traffic Channels for Lead Generation for Real Estate

Our digital marketing team has generated millions of revenue for clients from both Youtube and Meta platforms. Let’s not complicate traffic channels and focus on these two for real estate lead generation. Meta (Facebook and Instagram) Advertising Behavioural and Demographic Targeting Meta's targeting based on behaviours like recent website visits, interaction with related real estate content is unbeatable. Their targeting includes life events such as engagements or moving, which are powerful indicators of a need to buy or sell property. Needless to say, Meta’s accuracy in advertising is uncannily scary. Re-Marketing Tools  Meta’s ability to retarget users enables you to re-engage with users who have shown interest but have not yet taken action, keeping your real estate brand top-of-mind and increasing the likelihood of a high qualified lead. YouTube Advertising Youtube platforms is a great competitor to Meta’s, in terms of high engagement for video like content and here’s why: Virtual Tours and Listings Video content such as virtual tours and detailed listings can capture the beauty and value of properties much better than photos alone, providing a 'real-life' experience. Educational Content  You can create high quality video content that educates potential buyers on investment opportunities, market trends, establishing your authority in the real estate field. Cost Efficiency YouTube offers a cost-per-view pricing model, where you only pay when viewers watch the ad for at least 30 seconds, ensuring budget spend on interested users. Youtube ads are still much cheaper than Meta advertising today. 

Conclusion

In Singapore's competitive real estate market, standing out as an agent is essential. Traditional methods like flyers and door knocking are no longer enough. Online marketing systems is a game-changer for agents looking to differentiate themselves. They allow for agents to engage directly with potential clients, showcasing expertise and building trust. Moreover, online marketing offer scalability and efficiency, reaching a wider audience in less time and with fewer resources than traditional methods. Combined with powerful paid advertising platforms like Meta and YouTube, you can use targeted advertising to fill up an entire room of qualified leads awaiting you to present your real estate story today. Read the full article

[fruitytrollroll]

hello hello! just wanted to say i’ve been a really huge fan of your work for a while. i remember reading your cuphead imp fic over and over back in 2017 and i was pleasantly surprised to find that you’re still posting. i just wanted to ask since i couldn’t find any info on it on your blog, but would you ever consider taking writing commissions? i’d be totally willing to pay for some of your work. it’s totally understandable if not though, i’m just curious! thanks so much and have a good one!

You're so kind, thank you!! 🥺✨️ Wow that one is a throwback... I was in such a particular headspace writing it that I'd need to do a little work to come back to it, but I DO still hope to finish it... Someday... I'm finally into the freaky shit I'd need to get into to TRULY do it justice, so at least that hurdle is behind me!

And thank you so much for your interest in supporting my work!! 🥺✨️ I tried to do commissions once, but I struggled to balance my desire to do my own thing with my clients' specific vision, so I ended up passing it up. 🤔 I am interested in doing them, generally, but I think I need to do some soul-searching and experimentation to figure out how I'd want to handle that in the future... Maybe if people are comfortable letting me take a ship and a prompt and running with it, or maybe workshopping a concept I could be satisfied with? I think I'd really enjoy the challenge of that! (and personally, I think my ability to inspire other people to ship the things I write about would pay dividends, but I don't want to ask anyone to pay for something they're not satisfied with, either).

So as of right now I'm on the fence about taking commissions, but I'm not opposed to doing them in the future, once I figure out how to strike that balance! Thank you again for your kind words!!

I will say if anyone wants to drop me $20 on ko-fi, I'll read one of my fics aloud and post it as a podfic—mostly because I'm already interested in doing that, but I'd like to gauge interest. (And if you do, I ask you to include the title of the fic in the donation, but to please exercise discretion if the fic in question is NSFW. Ko-fi donations are processed by PayPal, and they take none too kindly to NSFW content...)

Anyway! This got long but thank you for reaching out!!! It always delights me to hear people still enjoy my older works! :')

[221bshrlocked]

sweaty hands, reluctant hearts

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader

Words: 13685 (god this wasn’t supposed to be this long I’m actually sorry this time)

Warnings: Angst and Smut (my fav). Hurt/Jealous Mando -> Touch Starved/Rough Mando -> Fluffy Mando -> Shy Mando. Penetrative Sex. Oral Sex. There’s lot’s of sweat because exertion yall. Breeding Kink 😏. Slight Exhibitionism. Overstimulation and slight slight non-con because of oversensitivity. Umm, squirting 🙃. Dirty/Sweet talk. Spanking (ass and hoohaa).

Summary: He never thought the day would come when he’d hear you saying you wanted to leave him. Yes there was an understanding between the two of you that you were hired to help him care for the Child and to somehow keep the Razor Crest alive and working. And he knew it made sense for you to find work elsewhere now that the Razor Crest was destroyed and the Child was with his own kind. But he just assumed you weren’t going to leave considering it’s been a couple of months since he’d given the kid to the Jedi and you never brought it up. It hurt hearing you say those words, especially when he realized he wasn’t meant to hear them and that you were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people. Turns out, all Mando needed was to see the Marshal eye-fucking you as you fixed the new ship and overshared your thoughts for him to snap and finally make a move. Hopefully he can change your mind...

A/N: Yall, this is post Season 2 so sadly Grogu is not here, hence the angst! Umm, this was a lot to handle because you know, that gif here. Enjoy ☺️

It’s been months since the events that transpired on the cruiser. Months since he’d given away a piece of himself to an unknown being. Months since he’d sat down and re-evaluated his life’s mission. He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen to return to Tatooine of all planets but he needed some time to think of his next steps. So much has changed over the course of the past year and it took the Mandalorian longer than usual to realize that he can’t use bounty hunting to fill the void in his heart. 

One thing he did know for sure, however, was that he couldn’t have managed to survive the emotional and physical changes without your presence. Somehow, you’ve managed to make his life easier and by a whole lot. He has never felt this grateful for having a companion, maker, didn’t even think it possible to ever consider another as such. He’d spent years and years living by the Creed and never once doubting his way of living, but he found himself questioning everything about himself when you came in. It wasn’t that he was suddenly open to the idea of taking his helmet off or anything, it was more of a passing thought on what it would be like if he were to open up to you more, perhaps even share with you more than his name and an abridged version of how he became a Mandalorian. 

He mulled over how he would approach the topic with you, finding himself growing more nervous when he considered how you’d react. You’ve never given him any inclination of ever thinking of him as more than your boss and he knew he needed to figure out a way to make this seem natural and not forced. Frankly, he found it interesting how you managed to read him better than anyone he’s ever met, and he wished he could ask you how you’d done so when he never took off his helmet. 

Mando pushed the thought aside for now, cursing to himself as he dragged the giant piece of scrap you’d requested for him to pick up from Peli. He wanted to argue with you then, tell you that the only reason for coming to this awfully hot planet was to take some time off, if that was even possible, and avoid falling into the temptation of another mission. But he couldn’t find it in himself to say any of these things, mostly because you were the one that managed to procure the new ship for him and you were also the one that told him the two of you were in serious need of rest. He’d only realized the ship needed fixing when he landed and you told him you would get right on as soon as he picked up the necessary pieces from Peli. He felt a little out of the loop when he’d gone to her and found her giving him everything you’d requested for, and he knew you must have contacted her before you landed or else she wouldn’t have been this quick. 

As he made his way through the quiet “streets” of Mos Pelgo, he thought back to what Peli said to him an hour ago. Had he not considered her as a friend, he would have responded rudely when she bugged him about you. As much as he wished to humor the idea that you looked at him as more than a colleague, partner, whatever it was the two of you were, he didn’t want to grow any more false hope, especially now that he’d already given up the one thing that managed to crawl into his heart. 

Mando saw that you’d moved the ship behind the cantina and he chose to blame the heat for the way his skin crawled with goosebumps because no, he didn’t suddenly feel calm at the thought of you. 

He shook his head from the intruding thought and was about to say something to you when he saw who was standing nearby. If there was ever a time where he didn’t wish to see Cobb Vanth, it was definitely now. The bounty hunter put down the scraps of metal before moving closer to where the two of you were standing. He was sheltered behind a shack of sorts and allowed his heart rate to return to normal before listening in on you. 

“I don’t believe you sweetheart.” The Marshal threw back his drink and shook his head when you shrugged your shoulders at him and Mando felt his stomach twist at the endearment. Since when were the two of you on such a close basis?

“Believe whatever you want Marshal, I was only answering your question. Besides, it’s not like I’m actively looking right now.” Mando watched as you swiped the sweat rolling down your face with the back of your hand and swore when he felt the fabric of his pants grow tighter around his crotch. He felt dirty watching your every move, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the way your muscles gleamed under the excruciating sun rays. He cursed the day you bought that garment and he recalled back to the first time he watched you work in it. Mando had almost tripped over the child that day because he never expected to see you walking around with the chest binding so visible to his eyes. It was worse when you reached up high for something because if his eyes lingered long enough, he could see your undergarment peeking from the low-hanging pants of the overalls. 

The bounty hunter had to take a few deep breaths to move on from the inappropriate thoughts he was having and he narrowed his eyes at Cobb when he saw him walk closer to you. 

“Are you ever going to tell him?” The Mandalorian watched as your expression shifted slowly to a more sombre look and he was familiar enough with you to know that you weren’t too happy with that question or the answer you were going to give Cobb. 

“I- I don’t know. I wish I could tell him about how I fe- what I’m thinking about but I can’t...and I also can’t just say ‘Hey Mando, I had a blast taking care of the kid and getting hunted by the kriffing Empire. I fixed the ship for you so see you later.’ It’s not right and I didn’t realize it would be this difficult to come to terms with what I have to do. But I can’t keep doing this, it’s not fair.” 

Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, that certainly didn’t make the top of the list. He almost fell back when he registered the meaning behind your words. You wanted to leave. You’ve been wanting to move on for a while and you weren’t sure how to tell him. You were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people and relying on his opinion to decide what you were going to do. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind and he tried to see if he’d done anything wrong. Besides the whole thing with Gideon and Bo Katana, there wasn’t really anything he’d done that would inspire such a reaction from you. Not that those weren’t enough to change your mind about staying with him but it was all in the past now. 

The sound of laughter broke Mando out of his haze and he turned towards you again, watching as you slithered down the ship, clenching his fists tightly when he saw Cobb grab your hips to help you down. He was torn between strutting towards the two of you and punching the daylights out of him and remaining where he was to listen in on your conversation. He had no right to do either, but he needed to know.

“I hate to ask you this question because it defeats the whole purpose of this entire chat but...have you thought of how he’d take it? Should you decide on-” You pointed to something on the floor and Cobb leaned down to grab it for you, handing it and gauging your reaction to his question as you continued to work. 

“Why else do you think I’ve been putting this off? Of course I’ve thought of how he’d react. But I deserve more than...ugh, I don’t mind this, I swear I don’t, but I also can’t just sit back and pretend I don’t want more.” You motioned violently to the ship and to what you were doing as you spoke, shaking your head at the man smiling smugly in front of you before throwing out the tools and snatching his drink from him. 

Mando couldn’t stand to be near you, not after what he’d heard and certainly not after taking in your body language and the way Cobb was practically undressing you without shame. He stepped back, leaving the scraps where they were and heading to the cantina to take his mind off of what he’d just witnessed. He walked in and paid no mind to the patrons scattered across the room, handing the man behind the counter more credits than he cared to count and asking him for his strongest stuff. He didn’t bother to address the judgmental stare he was receiving and took hold of the bottle before walking out again. 

It was close to sunset and the Mandalorian walked until the edge of the town before deciding to continue until he reached a small hill filled with large boulders. Sliding down one of the rocks, he sighed deeply before taking off his helmet, the hissing sound instilling a sense of guilt deep in his chest. He was ashamed at feeling such an emotion towards what he based his entire life on. But he couldn’t take it anymore. His anger rose as he opened the large bottle in his hand, throwing it back until he felt the stinging drink burn his throat for a few seconds before aggressively setting it on the floor next to him. 

Mando wasn’t able to put what he was feeling into a proper string of thoughts but he did know it was an odd mixture of hurt and anger with a tiny bit of sexual frustration. He couldn’t get the image of you sweaty and heaving as you worked on his ship out of his mind, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back to meditate back on the way your muscles clenched and pulled every time you molded two metal scraps together or how they positively shined when you carried things across the sand. He’d tried his hardest to set all of these feelings and rather inappropriate thoughts aside but he couldn’t any longer. Not when there was a chance of you leaving him, and perhaps to someone like the Marshal too. 

Perhaps it was unwise to deny his heart’s desires for so long and Mando was sure that he’d met his breaking point because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Normally, he was able to distract himself and force his mind to stray away from conjuring up the filthiest images of you wreathing and crying beneath him as he drove his cock into your heat. But he had no hold over his mind at this moment, not that he was to blame. He went from shutting his own self out to opening the floodgates, and there was no going back. 

He sighed heavily when his thoughts shifted to what you said about him and he took a long sip from the bottle before turning his attention to the setting suns. He didn’t know what he could even say if you ever approached the topic with him. You’d been wanting to leave for a while now and somehow managed to hide it from him. All those nights spent running from Moff Gideon and other bounty hunters and you haven’t complained once, choosing to keep it to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was hurt because you felt the need to hide something like this from him or because you were awfully understanding of how these complaints could distract him. 

And then there was the whole thing with the ship. He had assumed that the two of you sort of shared it now but it seemed that you never saw it as belonging to you but only to him. And you went out of your way to fix it now when you didn’t have to. Mando didn’t notice his tears until he licked his drying lips and tasted the saltiness across his mouth. He wiped his cheeks and laughed at himself. When had he become like this? First it was the child and now you. 

He wished he could take it all back, to have never met the kid or you. His life was simple and not complicated and now, now he was faced with the prospect of losing you as well. The bounty hunter dismissed the thought as quickly as it came because he knew deep down that it was better to have had the two of you in his life, even for a short while, than to have never known you. It wasn’t ideal but since when was his life ideal?

As the suns set beneath the sky, the Mandalorian looked down and saw that the bottle was still almost full. Not wanting to finish it now, because he might actually need it later when you decide to leave, Mando stood up and slowly made his way back into town. He needed to sleep, not to rest but to put a pause on his rather depressing thoughts if only for a little bit. When he saw the town come into view, he took a deep breath and put his helmet back on. 

The town was quieter than usual and the Mandalorian found himself going straight to the ship instead of joining the others. He’d spent the past few days enjoying his nights in the corner of the busy cantina, watching as you won one Sabacc game after another without breaking a sweat while everyone groaned in annoyance at how well you were kicking their asses. But he couldn’t trust himself tonight, not around you and certainly not around the Marshal. 

Trying not to bring too much attention to himself, Mando walked past the cantina towards the ship, already thinking of how relieved he’d be once he used the refresher. Going up the ramp, he was about to walk to the small, private room near the cockpit to grab a change of clothes when he heard a loud shriek that sounded a lot like his name coming from the opposite end of the ship. Mando quickly turned around and shut his eyes in exasperation when he saw you approaching him far angrier than he’d ever seen you. He set the bottle down and turned his attention towards you, raising an eyebrow to himself when he saw your chest heaving beneath the chest band. He averted his eyes quickly, refusing to think of you sweaty and breathless under other circumstances. Maker, he couldn’t go no like this.

“Where in the kriffing hell have you been? You were supposed to bring the parts from Peli hours ago and I have to find out from some kid that you just left them on the ground and walked away to- hell, I don’t even know what was more important for you than bringing me the scraps so I could fix the ship? Really, Mando, I understand that it’s been a little weird and difficult lately but I barely ask for anything and, ugh, maker.” You held back from voicing more of your thoughts, afraid that you’ve already gone far with asking him where he was. He didn’t really need to tell you what his business was but you’d assumed the two of you have come to an understanding regarding such matters, at the very least to ensure everyone’s safety. 

Mando stood there in silence and took a deep breath before turning around and walking into his room, afraid he’d give himself away if he tried to respond to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration when he quietly walked away from you, anger rising in your chest as he came out and made his way past you to the refresher. Before you could think twice of what you were doing, you were sprinting past him and standing in front of the open door, pushing your fingers into his beskar-clad chest as you hissed at him.

“I’m not sure what happened or why you’re giving me the silent treatment right now but this is not how we deal with our problems okay.” Mando took a few steps back as you continued to shove your finger into him, trying his hardest to not grab your wrist and push you against the nearest wall. “We talk things out and we come up with a way to fix things and compromise if need be.” Mando’s back hit the wall, and he threw his head back to avoid your gaze, unable to hold back the chuckle that rose from beneath the helmet at your words. 

How ironic.

“Did I say something funny?” You narrowed your eyes up at him and wished for once that he’d remove that god damn helmet so you could gauge his reaction.

“You mean we should talk things out like you and Cobb Vanth today? Or would it be different?” Mando’s chest tightened when he noticed the surprised expression on your face, knowing very well this was not what you expected to hear from him. He was a rational man, never once letting his mind give away to such simplistic thoughts but you’d struck a nerve and he could no longer hide his jealousy. Yes, it was jealousy. As much as he hated to admit it, that’s what he was feeling right now, what he’s been feeling all day long. It was childish and unlike him but it wasn’t going to do him any good if he continued to ignore it. 

“I’m dying to know if that’s what you mean. You obviously don’t have an issue telling him about how difficult it’s been working with me and how you can’t keep doing this.” It was your turn to take a few steps back when you saw his shoulders push out and make him taller than he already was. He continued to walk towards you, throwing his clothes to the ground and almost apologizing when you tripped on your feet when he was only a foot away from you.

“How about this, let’s start with what you apparently wish you could tell me but can’t seem to find the right words to do so. What was it you said to him? You deserve more than taking care of a kid and constantly escaping the Empire and other bounty hunters? Or wait, how can I forget...it’s not fair dealing with this mess of a ship and you’re looking for somewhere else to go?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as the Mandalorian repeated back the words you voiced perhaps a little too loudly earlier today, already feeling your eyes fill with unshed tears at harsh his tone. 

“I- I didn’t…you weren’t meant to-” You tripped over your words and almost flinched when he cut you off. 

“What? I wasn’t supposed to hear you say any of those things? A little strange don’t you think, since you seemed to have a lot to say about me to the Marshal.” Mando should have stopped himself from saying the next few words but his heart was torn into a million pieces and it wasn’t fair for him either.

“Well guess what, sweetheart, the Razor Crest blew up. Moff Gideon is taken care of and the Empire isn’t after us anymore. Every bounty hunter knows better than to so much as look at me and...and the kid isn’t around anymore for you to take care of. He’s gone, I lost him. So if you were worried about hurting me, you’re a little too late for that.” The Mandalorian barely held himself back from pulling you into his arms when he saw tears rolling down your cheek, clenching his fists tightly when he noticed the way you hugged yourself and frowned at him.

“Din-” It broke him to hear you use his name, especially now of all times. He hasn’t heard you say it once in the past few months, even when the two of you were alone. It was the twisting of the knife, and he bit his tongue to distract himself from saying something he couldn’t possibly take back.

“Do what you want, I won’t stand in the way. Besides, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to help you out with whatever it was you were telling him today. After all, you deserve more right? Deserve someone more than me...someone who’s willing to share a lot more than his name.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Mando stepped away and walked back to his room, not caring about the clothes on the ground or how hurt you must have been feeling from listening to him. 

He softly shut the door behind him and moved to his bed, throwing himself on it and hanging his head low to catch his breath. This was not how he saw the night going, not remotely. He was hoping to ask you about this tomorrow in a less hostile manner and without making it seem like he was blaming you. But something about your words struck a nerve in him and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, not when you were suggesting things you yourself weren’t willing to follow.

Din wasn’t sure how long he sat there in silence but the hissing sound of the door opening brought him back from his haze and he opened his eyes when he heard you walking towards him. You’d never once come into his room, not even when he occasionally gave you permission. You sniffed twice before approaching the bed and standing right in front of him and he was reminded of when the child would cry to try to catch his attention. 

“Din, it was never my intention to hurt you. I was trying to do the opposite..thought I was doing the right thing by thinking about this before I could talk to you but I’m realizing now that I’ve hurt you.” Din noticed the way you were ringing your fingers nervously and held himself back from taking your hands into his to try and put you at ease. 

“I- I only spoke with Cobb because he- because he noticed the way I was looking at you. He noticed how I can never seem to focus on anything or anyone else when you’re around. He- he could tell I was having a hard time coming to terms with how I feel about you...how I’ve felt about you for a while now.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your confessions, unable to properly register what you were implying because he could never even humor the idea that you’d have feelings for him. He raised his head and finally looked at you, frowning when he saw how red your eyes were from crying. 

“The last thing I want to do is to leave you, please believe me. But I wasn’t sure if you even wanted me around after...after everything with Moff Gideon and the Jedi. As far as I knew, you brought me on to take care of Grogu and fix the Razor Crest. We’ve barely spoken ever since the cruiser and I just thought that I was only around because you couldn’t find the time to tell me that you don’t need me anymore.” Hearing you say that you thought he didn’t need you caught Din off guard and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, instantly taking hold of your hands and pulling you towards him until you were standing in between his legs. You swallowed the lump in your throat and maintained your gaze on his visor, hoping that he could see how truthful you were being with him and maybe respond, if only with just a simple word. 

“When I said I deserved more, I was just- I swear I wasn’t talking about your Creed or wanting to see you. As much as I wish that was possible, I would never...could never ask you for something like that. I was only telling him that I might need some time away to maybe forget how...maker, to perhaps try and set aside my emotions because the last thing you need right now is for me to lay that on you. I don’t want you to think that you owe me anything because you don’t, gods you don’t owe anyone anything, not after what you’ve been through. But I could feel myself becoming more attached to you, especially after everything that happened on the cruiser. I want more with you but I don’t want to push you towards anything you’re not ready for.” Before you could wipe the tears away from your cheeks, Din was raising his glove-covered fingers and softly skimming them over your skin, and he hadn’t realized how harsh and loud his breathing was until he felt you rest your hand on his chest.

“There’s nothing between me and Cobb. And you should know by now that he’s...friendly, with everyone.” You smiled shyly at him before leaning into the hand resting on your cheek, nuzzling further into his palm when he swiped his thumb against your lower lip. There was so much Din wanted to say but he couldn’t find the right words that would convey what he was feeling. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind about your admission and the fact that you have been returning his affection for a while now. 

Din didn’t realize how long he was quiet until you cleared your throat and let go of his hand, stepping away from him and looking around to see if you should just leave. Before you could head to the door, however, Din was standing up and moving towards you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort before he made his next move. Your chest was rising and falling a little quicker than he liked but he quickly realized it was probably because of how you were coming to terms with what you just said to him. 

You watched as he took his gloves off and set them on the small table behind you, suppressing a gasp when you felt his warm, calloused hands wrap around yours before bringing them to his helmet. He could tell you were letting him control all of your movements and found it difficult to accept just how much you were willing to give to him.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I have been thinking about this for a while.” Din smiled when he saw your eyebrows furrow in question at his words. “Taking this off.” He saw the moment you understood what he was saying, not expecting you to pull your hands away from him and taking a few steps back until your back was against the wall.

“That’s...that’s not what I- Din, I wasn’t lying when I said it wouldn’t matter to me if-” He smiled at how defensive you suddenly were and stepped towards you once more, and you found it annoying that he barely kept a foot between you two, his natural scent hitting you like a blaster to the gut. 

“I know.” Din cut you off before taking your hands into his once more, rubbing your knuckles to put you at ease as he continued. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this and- it’s not that I’ll walk around without it now, far from it. It’ll only be when we’re alone, when no one is around.” He hoped you could read in between the lines because this would be the closest he’d come to admitting how important you were to him, for now at least.

“Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” 

That definitely snapped you out of your haze and you tilted your head to the side before asking home what he was referring to. 

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Din raised an eyebrow at your response. Have you already forgotten?

“On the cruiser, when I- before Grogu went with the Jedi.” His hands tightened around your fingers as he said the child’s name and you were momentarily distracted before realizing what he meant. 

“Din I...I never saw you.” 

For a split second, it felt like someone had taken Din and carbon froze him before throwing him on an ice planet. 

“What?” He held his breath, unable to move a muscle until he made sure he heard you correctly. 

“I never saw you. I turned around when you reached for your helmet. I didn’t...it was a moment with you and Grogu. It didn’t feel right to look at you.” You tried to maintain a semblance of control on your voice but it cracked a few times as you admitted to him. As much as you yearned to see him without the mask, you didn’t think it proper without his clear consent. 

Din’s sudden intake of breath made you nervous and you hated how for a moment, you wished you didn’t tell him because there was now a high probability that he wouldn’t take the mask off. 

“Cyar'ika, please.” you shivered at the low tone of his voice, finding it harder to focus on anything but the touch of his skin. Once again, Din slowly brought your hands to the sides of his visor, pushing the palm of your hands on the beskar and softly nodding at you. A sudden sense of relief washed over him when he saw the slight nod of your head. 

Din found it endearing how your whole face scrunched up in focus as the two of you slowly pulled the helmet off of his head, the soft hissing sound as it unlocked making your hands dampen with sweat. As you raised the visor along with him, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes as soon as you saw the skin of his chin. Unbeknownst to you, Din was watching your every reaction and felt a little nudge in his chest when he saw how tightly shut your eyes were. When the beskar was off completely, Din took it from your hands and placed it next to him, swallowing the lump in his throat when he turned back and saw you were still refusing to look at him.

He reluctantly took your hands into his and placed them on his chest, hoping that you’d finally open your eyes without him begging you again. 

“I’m sorry I- maker, this is..this is probably more intense for you than it is for me and I’m not making it any better with my nervousness and- okay. Okay.” You took a deep breath before allowing your eyes to flutter open, unable to exhale as soon as you laid your gaze on him. Din was probably unaware of how nervous he looked and it took you a few longer seconds to realize you needed to breathe again. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, the long nights where you imagined what he could look like fading into thin air because nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared you for what you were currency seeing. 

His features were somehow soft but a little rugged, and you found yourself committing every inch of his skin to memory, filling your mind’s eye with every minute facial expression so you could dream of him when you fall asleep. It was oddly not surprising at all that he had a stubble, the scattered dark and slightly graying hairs across his jaw and above his lips making him seem older than he probably was. And you weren’t sure if he knew he was furrowing his eyebrows and then you realized he most likely didn’t because he was so used to wearing his helmet that he never had to learn how to control his facial expressions around anyone. And it was endearing how his nose flared as he continued to breathe heavily under your gaze, and if it weren’t for the fact that this was a serious moment, you would have leaned over and kissed the curved bridge of his nose and the scrunch of his eyebrows to put him at ease. 

Din wasn’t sure what he thought your reaction would be and he felt his chest tighten with every long moment you spent without so much as a comment. 

You were unaware of how long this dreadful moment must have been for the Mandalorian and you continued to study him in hopes of finding answers to questions you’ve wished you could ask him ever since he hired you. There were heavy bags under his eyes and you wished you were more persistent with him when it came to his resting schedule but he always seemed to wave you off whenever you told him he needed to sleep. Though you knew this stress had to do more with Grogu no longer being here and less with how often he slept. You had half expected to find his gaze harsh and far off but when you did finally meet his eyes, you found them filled with unshed tears and a multitude of emotions that you knew would go unexplained until he had the strength to voice them. They were a deep and beautiful shade of brown, ones you knew you’d never be able to turn away from now that you’ve had a proper look at him. And you couldn’t help but notice how their color reminded you of a Nightbloomer just after you picked it from its roots. 

All of that, however, could not compare to when you finally let your eyes descend to his lips. They were a darker shade of pink, and you swore you saw them parting as soon as you looked at them. His lower lip was trembling and you wished more than anything to swipe your thumb against it if only to feel the soft skin melt at your touch. You wished that was as far as your mind had gone but the longer you looked at the curve of his mouth, the more you wished you could lean forward and mold your lips with his. It was even worse because you had a feeling that the stubble of his mustache would cause the softest of burns on your lips. 

Din could no longer take the loud silence enveloping the room and he swallowed nervously when he saw how focused you seemed to be on his lips. He had some idea of what you were probably thinking because he was thinking the exact same thing but he wasn’t sure if he should be the one to make the first move. This reluctance evaporated when he noticed the way your eyes instantly moved to his neck as the cartilage moved and returned to rest when he gulped, and he realized that you may have been having slightly more inappropriate thoughts than he originally thought.

He was about to voice his worries when he saw your hands move from his beskar-clad chest to his face and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down apprehensively at the digits moving closer to his skin. You misunderstood his nervousness for uncomfort and immediately ceased all movements, returning your focus on his eyes to look for any inclination as to what he wanted. 

“Can I- mhmm, may I touch you?” Your whispered question was too loud for the two of you and Din parted his lips to say something but noticed how dry his throat was and realized he couldn’t trust his own voice. Nodding slightly at your request, he waited with bated breath as your fingers rose to his face and found himself shaking with anticipation at the prospect of finally feeling your touch on the most intimate part of him. 

When you were only a few inches away from him, Din felt his heart thumping wildly at his chest and he immediately shut his eyes when he felt the feather-light touch of your fingers on his cheeks. The harsh yet shaky intake of breath almost made you lose control and you had to remind yourself that, besides Grogu, you were the only one to ever touch him so intimately and so softly since he was a child. As much as you wished to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you could lay as many kisses on his face as you could, you knew it would be too much for him and that he needed you to go slow with him. He was practically shattering under your attention and you hoped he would allow you to do this as many times as possible in the coming days. 

Din couldn’t put a name to what he was experiencing at the moment but he knew he didn’t want you to stop touching him, ever again. He decided that he’d spend every moment with you alone without his helmet and with yours hands skimming some part of him. The longer you kept your palms on his cheeks, the calmer his heart beat and it wasn’t until a few moments later that he realized his eyes were shut. As they slowly fluttered open, he was met with the most beautiful sight in the world: your own deep irises staring at your own thumb as it softly passed over his quivering lips. 

“You’re...beautiful.” 

It was a simple truth and you wished there was a more sincere word you could use to describe what he was to you, what he meant to you but your mind was overflowing with images of waking up next to him every day and kissing his eyes and cheeks and nose and lips and anywhere else you could reach. 

Din’s hold tightened around your waist and you watched as he leaned forward until there was barely an inch between the two of you. 

“Mesh'la, I would really like to kiss you.” The request barely passed his lips yet you were already standing up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his, finding them as soft and gentle as you imagined them to be. Din was afraid his heart would give out any moment now because nothing could have prepared him for the taste of you, let alone the boldness with which you were claiming him. He sighed into you, unintentionally parting his lips and pushing you harder into the wall when he felt your tongue sneak into his mouth and explore him. Din wasn’t sure what he should be doing but then you were moving your hands to the nape of his neck and tangling your fingers into his hair and he all but lost it. As you gently tugged on his hair, Din found himself mirroring your actions and before he knew it, the kiss was no longer innocent and sweet but hungry and needy. You sucked on his tongue and tilted your head to the side, wanting to commit every small detail to memory so when you shut your eyes at night, you’d kiss him in your dreams. 

Reluctantly, you pulled back for a second to allow the two of you to breathe but Din didn’t like that, chasing your mouth and molding his lips with yours once more to be certain that yes, this was happening, and that no, this was not a dream. You moaned into the kiss, finding his desperate need to claim your mouth again more of a turn on than you cared to admit. And then his hands were slipping inside your overalls and holding you against his chest, the warmth of him stretching down to where you wished you could feel him. 

This sudden intrusive thought and the harsh grasp of your hips snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should be slowing things down for his sake. Against your will, you gently pushed his chest away and tried to think of anything but the way he was heaving above you from the intensity of the kiss. When you looked at him and saw panic and hesitation etched on his face, you returned your hands to his cheeks again and lowered his head until it was resting against your own. 

“There’s nothing I want more than to feel every inch of your skin against mine right now...but- but I don’t want to push you to do something that- maker….that might be too much for you?” You pulled back and waited until he opened his eyes again before continuing. “I feel like you just made a dramatic decision by taking the helmet off in front of me and- and you’re probably feeling a multitude of emotions right now and I don’t want to make you think that I-” 

Din didn’t like what you were saying, frowning down at you as he grabbed the back of your neck and violently pulled you towards him again. You were surprised by the sudden shift of his touch, fisting your hands in his cowl as he devoured your lips once more, not really giving you a chance to say anything else. Biting your lower lip, Din abruptly ended the kiss and pressed his lips across your skin, nipping and licking at your jaw as he pulled your hair down until he had access to your neck. You gasped his name and felt his stubble scratch deliciously at your shoulder. As you moaned against the wall, Din couldn’t back anymore and bit down hard on your shoulder, smiling when he heard your breath hitch at his rough ministrations. 

“Din, oh gods, Din please.” You weren’t sure what you were asking of him exactly and you hoped he’d at the very least continue what he was doing. 

“Cyar'ika, I want to have you. I’ve spent many nights dreaming of your lips, your touch, y-your skin against mine as I-” Din hesitated and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers slipping beneath the chest band that you finally registered his voice. Fuck, how had you not notice it a second ago? You thought the vocoder was what altered it, made it deeper perhaps. But no, it only made it sound more intimidating. You weren’t sure what made you clench your thighs together, the way he spoke to you of his desires, or how strained and gruff his voice was as he whispered his secrets to you. You gulped loudly and hesitantly met his eyes, finding the soft brown irises barely visible, his dilated pupils letting you know what he was thinking. 

Licking your lips, you nodded at him and fell into a fit of giggles when he leaned down and picked you up as if you weighed nothing, quickly moving to his cot and laying you down on your back before moving away. You were about to ask him what he was doing when you saw his hands swiftly move through the beskar armor. For some reason, watching his hands expertly take off the cuirass and move to the beskar of his thighs made your heart skip a beat and you wouldn’t dare move a muscle, afraid to miss the show he was unintentionally putting on for you. So busy marveling at his deft fingers, you didn’t notice Din slowing his movements and looking at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity when he saw how hard you were breathing. 

You broke out of your trance when you saw he stopped moving, embarrassment washing over you when you realized Din had caught you shamelessly staring at him as he came closer to revealing to you more of his skin. You’d expected him to move on, or at least pretend he hadn’t just caught you licking your lips while staring at his fingers but no, it seemed that Din was very much enjoying the effect he had on you because his smile grew when he saw your eyes look past him, pretending to focus on something else behind him and not his hands. 

You never lost his attention though, and he maintained his eyes on you as he removed all of his armor and took his boots off. You tried to be a little more subtle but gave up when he leaned down over you and pushed you into his covers. You wanted to ask him why he was still dressed but bit back the inquiry, afraid he’d misunderstand and move away all together at your question. He captured your gaze and didn’t blink once as he slowly undid the buttons holding the overalls and you realized you would have preferred him to keep the helmet on because that meant you wouldn’t notice how passionate and direct his deep brown irises were. You’d expected him to be intense considering how touch-starved and lonely he was, but you never once thought he’d be this vigorous? Ardent? Maker, there wasn’t a single word that could describe the way he was looking at you right now.

Din kneeled at the foot of the bed, waiting until you finally noticed what he was doing and raising your hips before he pulled on the pants of the garment. He slipped your shoes off and finally removed the article of clothing that made his cheeks blush and pants tighten whenever you wore it. He would eventually tell you that this is how you came to him in his dreams almost every night, all spent and sweaty in that gods-forsaken fabric that gave him the perfect view of what you were wearing beneath. 

His focus shifted from your face down your damp skin and he breathed in deeply at the sight of your undergarment. Din almost choked on his breath when your legs parted for a moment, giving him a glimpse of the growing wet patch at the center of the flimsy material.

The Mandalorian wanted nothing more than to worship your body, kiss every part of you and whisper his devotion against your skin as he pleasured you over and over again. He’d spent countless nights imagining what he’d do to you if you were ever naked and willing in his arms and he was damned if he didn’t make sure you were thoroughly spent once he was done with you. He wanted to hear his name fall from your lips and he wanted to swallow your sighs and your moans as he sank into you all night long. And by the gods, he wanted to mark your neck and your arms and your waist, and nothing made him harder than picturing you doing the same to him, biting and nipping at his skin so he could wake up in the morning and watch the evidence of your lo- your touch on him. It didn’t matter that no one else would see those bruises but him and you. He just wanted you, in any way possible, sinking beneath his skin.

And then he heard his voice calling for you over the comm link just outside the room and something snapped deep in his chest. He looked up from you to the open door of his room and listened to the Marshal’s words. Your eyes widened in shock when you saw several emotions pass through Din’s eyes, the most prominent of which was anger, maybe hurt. Of all the times Cobb would ask you to join him for drinks, this was most definitely the worst of them. It didn’t help either that he was laughing over some inappropriate joke one of his friends was saying about your sabacc skills. It wouldn’t be the first time this happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but then Din was clenching his jaw tightly before looking down at you and you knew he wasn’t too happy. In fact, you had a pretty good idea which emotion won out and you hated how much it affected you, how wet you became as thoughts of the Mandalorian claiming you as his flooded your mind.

Before you could try and reason with him, attempt to tell him that it was just a game and that the Marshal’s friends were probably just teasing him, Din was standing up and stripping of his long-sleeve shirt, revealing his perfectly chiseled, bronze skin that had your mouth watering within moments. You noticed the few dozen scars littering his beautiful torso and wished you could kiss each one of them, the old ones and the fairly new ones, until they didn’t sting with pain. But Din had different plans for you and he didn’t give you a chance to question him as he took hold of both of your wrists and slammed them above your head. His hold was painful and it should have scared you how quickly his mood changed but you said nothing, looking into his dilated pupils as his nose flared and he growled at you.

“Keep yours hands there,” Din warns you with a piercing look and you gulp loudly before nodding at him in understanding. He removes his hand and kneels on the bed, eyes narrowing at you before they sought after your most private areas. He wasn’t sure where to begin. He’d given this much thought but now that he was here, he realized it was a more difficult decision than he anticipated. He’d longed to wrap his lips around those hardened peaks always teasing him through the chest band, lick them until you cried for him, perhaps begged him to stop because you were sensitive. But then he continued down the lines of your navel and found your parted legs much more inviting. 

Now that Din knew how you felt, there was no reason for him to feel jealous. But he couldn't stop himself, wanting to be certain that you knew as well as he who you belonged to. He hated himself for having such primitive thoughts about you. You were your own person that much was made clear early on. But he could hope at your words, couldn’t he? He could hope that you were now his, and that he was yours. Maker, he was always yours. He just couldn’t admit it to himself, his heart reluctant at opening up to another. 

Din was lost in thought longer than you liked and you moved your feet towards him, nudging his thigh in hopes of reassuring him that you were right here, in his bed, beneath him and at his mercy. Din’s eyes focused on your again and he looked down at the soft gesture, hands instantly grabbing at your ankles. You jumped at the sudden movement, trying your hardest not to whine at the painful grasp because somewhere deep inside of you, you wanted nothing more than to be marked by him. By his teeth, lips, fingers, any part of him. You didn’t care where you’d bear his touch, you just wanted to see it, touch it in the privacy of the refresher when he wasn’t around. 

Din saw the needy look you were throwing him and he knew that you were willing. Willing to go as far as he wanted, willing to completely submit your body and soul to him, willing to do whatever he wished of you.

Before your eyes could flutter closed, Din was pushing your legs wide open and falling in between them while maintaining his gaze on you. He almost smiled when your stomach shook at how feral he probably looked. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes as his mouth latched onto the wet patch forming on the soft fabric of your undergarment, moaning into your cunt as he savored the taste seeping through. You were surprised by the boldness of the action and wished for him to lick your skin instead. But there was something erotic about the desperation behind his actions, wanting to taste you so much that he didn’t care what he was licking. 

The thought was gone as soon as it appeared because you felt two fingers stretch beneath the waistband right before he ripped it off of your body, shoving the torn fabric in his nose and taking a long whiff of it before humming in approval. Your eyes widened in surprise at the filthiness of his action, hands shaking above you when he threw your panties expertly into his helmet. The thought of knowing that your scent could potentially stick to the inside of his helmet as he walked around twisted your insides and you whined shamelessly at him, wishing he could just take what he wanted. 

“Your sounds belong to me,” Din spoke with a commanding voice as he sank in between your thighs again, his tongue dragging across your folds so deliciously hard until he pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva behind. “Your arousal belongs to me,” his hands went to your thighs and he squeezed, knowing fully well there would be bruises dawning your beautiful, smooth body the following morning. Again, you fought to keep your eyes open, wanting to commit every second to memory but finding it difficult to focus on him and not the pleasure zapping down your back. “And I will be damned if this cunt,” Din let go of one of your thighs, pulling his tongue away from your core right before the palm of his hand landed a slap straight on your clit, “doesn’t belong to me either.” You cried out his name, legs shaking violently at the pain shooting through your clit. Din didn’t give you a moment to relax back down on the covers, spanking the outer folds of your pussy twice more consecutively before he replaced the harsh touch with his cooling tongue. Tears trailed down your cheeks as he fucked you with his tongue and lapped at you like you were the only source of water on this gods-forsaken planet. He rotated between soft, quick licks to long, harsh ones, occasionally sucking on your clit and grazing his teeth on the bundle of nerves until he was sure you were going crazy. 

“D-Din oh maker, please. Stop I- slow down.” His touches were far from gentle and the pleasure blurred into pain as you tried to reach that delicious peak you’ve longed for ever since you harbored feelings for the man above you. But he was making it difficult, his needy and erratic movements making it near impossible for you to dive into the lake of pleasure. You should have known that the Mandalorian was as intense in bed as he was in every other aspect of his life. You shut your thighs around his head, wanting to push him away as his teeth continued to graze against your wet folds and nip at the pulsating nub. 

“M-Mando...I can’t.” You couldn’t take it anymore, hands moving to his hair and fisting in the beautiful brown locks as you tried to push him away. As soon as Din felt the tight grasp on his hair, he snarled at you, pushing up on his knees and bending your body along with him until the only thing resting on the bed was your neck and your shoulders. You cried out for him, begging him to give you release but it only drove him mad with lust. His eyes locked on yours, daring you to look away from him as his fingers dug into your butt cheeks and pushed your cunt into his mouth. 

Din pulled away for a split second, biting your inner thighs to grab your attention.

“You will take what I give you ner Cyar’ika.” You saw a hint of darkness in his soulful brown eyes, and shivered at the mere implications of what he had in mind for you. Din sucked and licked at your folds like a crazed man, feeling your legs shaking on his shoulders. He pulled away for a second, and you had no time to beg him to be gentle as he slapped your heated core three times again, hissing when you shut your eyes and bucked against him, your juices drenching his face and chest, leaking down your back as he smiled before taking your cunt into his mouth one last time to prolong your pleasure. You were too busy trying to remain sane to realize what had just happened and Din slowly lowered you back onto the wet covers before letting go of you. You were panting beneath him, stomach fluttering from the force of your release and chest heaving as you tried to fill your lungs with air. 

When you opened your eyes and looked at Din, your eyes widened in horror when you saw his glistening skin, finally realizing what he'd just done to you. You flushed under the scrutiny of Din’s gaze, gasping as he wiped his mouth and jaw with the back of his hand as he looked down and chuckled at the wet spot beneath his knees. You quickly shut your legs and tried to crawl away from him but Din was faster, grabbing your ankle and pulling you back to him, the show of strength already making your cunt clench around nothing again.

“You do not run from me Ad’ika...nor hide from me ever again. I own your body, your skin, the cum still leaking out of this sweet cunt.” His words were filthy and you didn’t know how to react to this new possessiveness he was showing. He pushed open your thighs and fell in between him, bringing his chest flush against yours and kissing the breath out of you, not bothering to be gentle as his fingers twisted and pinched at your nipples. You clawed at his back, wanting more of him but not knowing if you would be able to take any more of what he was offering. 

He pulled away suddenly, his jaw clenching tightly as he took one look at the hands wrapped around his back. 

“Did I not tell you to not move your hands sweet girl?” He whispered against your lips, breathing in the air leaving your lungs as he pecked the corner of your mouth before flipping you over on your stomach. 

“I- I’m sorry...it was just t-too much and-” You couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence, screaming against the covers as you felt Din’s palm land on your ass. You looked back and saw him eyeing your reddening skin, looking up at you and smiling as he treated the other side with the same kindness. Four more times his hands smacked your ass and you were ashamed at how aroused his violent actions made you. When he snuck his fingers in between your thighs and swiped haphazardly at your folds, you moaned and bit into your wrist. 

“Filthy sweet girl,” Din whispered more to himself than you before he fisted his hand in your hair and pulled you flush to his chest, the slide of your dampened back against his sweaty chest bringing him more pleasure than he would have liked to admit because not a few hours ago, he was picturing your sweaty, glistening skin beneath him. And now that he had you here, he was going to make the best of it. 

“Mando, oh Mando-” As much as he loved hearing you scream his nickname in the throws of passion, he wished more to hear his given name fall from your lips. 

“My name...scream my name sweet girl. Let the stars know who pleasures you Cyare.” Din kissed your shoulder before biting into the sweaty flesh, the hand in your hair letting go right before wrapping softly around your throat and pressing you harder against him. Your hands twisted back to try and grab his hair but he immediately took your wrist and twisted it until it was behind you, between your back and his chest. 

“Ahh Din…” You wanted to beg him to allow you to touch him, tell him that you were yearning to touch him as much as he was in need of touching you. But you had a feeling that this wasn’t true, and that this was his way of being certain that you weren’t going to leave him. That you were his. 

If only he knew that you have already belonged to him. Long before tonight.

You felt each breath leave your lungs as Din tightened his grasp around your throat and you parted your lips to moan his name, only to feel his tongue shamelessly licking into your mouth. So distracted by the desperation in this kiss, you didn’t notice the fingers trailing down your chest and digging into your skin until the palm of his hand softly cupped one breast. Din teased you with feather light touches, flicking at one nipple before moving to the other and circling around it until it hardened. He continued to swallow your noises, sucking on your tongue to quiet you as he pinched your nipples. You twisted in his arms, wanting to reach for him again but knowing that he would probably pull your hand away. 

When Din pulled away to allow you to breathe, you panted and finally opened your eyes, not daring to look away as he kept you motionless with his gaze. Din watched as you tried to form a coherent thought, waiting until you parted your lips to speak to him before reaching down and cupping your quivering cunt as he broke the silence.

“This belongs to me,” your breath hitched when Din pressed the palm of his hand against you, not quite applying pressure on your clit but just enough to hold your focus. “Only I get to touch you, kiss you, watch you as you come undone in my arms.” You nodded briefly at him, continuing to hold eye contact as he began to increase his actions. “No one else will ever have you Cyar'ika. No one but me.” He slipped two fingers past your wet folds and rubbed against your walls, humming in approval when he felt you flutter around him the harder he shoved his fingers inside you. 

“I’m yours Din, y-yours. Whatever you want, oh gods please more...need more, Din you make me f-feel so good.” Din keened at your words, curling his hand until his palm was passing deliciously over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. 

“That’s right sweet girl, you’re mine. Mine to fuck, mine to take whenever I want...mine to-” Din hesitated for a second, unable to voice his heart to you even though you’ve bared your soul for him. “Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum...kriffing gods you’re wet, so wet for me. Come on, cum for me again ner Cyare. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how needy this little cunt is, fuck- I...can’t want to have you wrapped around my cock little one. Can’t wait to sink in this pussy, my sweet tight cunt, mark you with my seed, over and over again...fuck a load in you all night long till you can’t feel anything but my cum dripping down your thighs. Shit, I need you to cum, now!” Your mind became foggy with pleasure, unable to focus on anything but the words whispered into your ears as his thick fingers fucked into you. You grabbed the wrist of the hand wrapped around your throat, digging your nails into his skin as you came around his fingers. You almost fell forwards but Din held you flush against him, continuing to drive his digits into you and rub at your clit with this thumb until you were sobbing in his arms. 

“Beautiful,” Din kissed your shoulder as he slowly inched his hands away from you before laying you down slowly. His eyes took in the flushed, wet skin of your back, chuckling with pride when he saw your legs shaking as little sobs escaped your lips. Your breaths came in shallow and quick, and you tried to silence your whines by biting into your wrists but then you felt Din slide his hand back and forth on your back as he laid next to you and you shivered under his touch because from the way he was moving closer to you and touching you, there was no way he was done just yet. 

“You’re all I think about, every waking moment. It’s difficult to focus on anything else when you’re always in my mind Cyar'ika. I- I burn for you, for your lips to caress mine every moment, your eyes to never leave mine as I brand you, your skin against my own as you mark me with your touch. I- maker, I cannot think of a life without you here, with me…” Din thought he would have to force himself to say such things but he found it remarkably easy now that he had you here, responding so openly and shamelessly to him.

“Din,” you turned your head and shifted towards him, kissing the hand resting between the two of you before leaning your forehead against his and shutting your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here, for as long as you’ll have me.” Din ceased all movement at your words and he looked away from where he was stroking your back, meeting your eyes and furrowing his eyebrows before you felt him grab your arm and pull you on top of him. You surprised gasp died in your throat when you felt Din wrap his arms around your back and bring you against him until you could feel his chest hairs tickling your nipples. You could feel his cock jutting against your core through his pants and as you rested your hands on his chest and looked to him, you saw the frown ease from his expression, replaced with something akin to reverence. 

“I will have you until my dying breath Mesh’la. Let me show you how much I want you.” The force of his declaration hit you instantly and you pressed your lips against his just as you felt him rid himself of his pants. Din’s hands were roaming your back and you felt bolder with every caress, combing your fingers into his hair and pulling on it as he squeezed your ass and bucked into you. The growl emanating from his chest shot straight to your core and you raised yourself from him for a moment.

“Din, I want you. Crave to feel you inside me. Please, do it fast and don’t- don’t be gentle. Show me, show me how much you lo- want me.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your words and he wasted no time, taking hold of his cock and teasing your clit with his leaking tip before slowly inching inside you. You shut your eyes and dug your nails into the back of his neck as he continued to sheath his dick deeper in your cunt. You could feel every ridge and pulsating vein dragging against your inner walls, finally allowing your lungs to breathe as you felt him nudge and twitch against that soft, spongy spot in your core. 

Neither of you moved for a few moments, with Din trying to wrap his mind around finally becoming one with you and feeling you clench so sweetly around him. He was torn between fucking up into you without mercy and taking it nice and slow until he pushed you over the edge again. But then you were gyrating your hips and sighing his name on his cheek and he knew what he wanted. 

Planting his feet on the damp covers, Din held you flush against him with one arm while resting his other hand on your thigh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips up before sinking into you again. You let out a surprised sob and rested your forehead against his shoulder, whispering more pleas against his skin and begging him to move. 

The usually quiet man breathed the sweetest wishes in your ears, thrusting up into you with immense force that made you clench tighter around him. “Ni copad gar an te ca'nara Ad’ika, ni vercopa be gar anay ca. You have made a home for yourself inside my heart.” Din felt your shaky breath blow on his neck and it drove him mad with lust because he wanted to have you reacting to his touch so wantonly every minute of every day. His grip only tightened around you and he prayed you wouldn’t mind the bruises that would surely color your skin in the next few hours. He wasn’t planning on being gentle tonight, perhaps later, but not tonight, and he was going to ensure his touch would be visible for anyone that would speak with you tomorrow. Thoughts of the Marshal passed through his mind’s eye and he growled, pumping his cock into you harshly for some reassurance. You cried out his name over and over again, feeling your skin heat up at the declarations of love he was peppering on your skin because even though his words were gentle, his touches were far from it.

The squelching sounds of your cunt flooding Din’s thighs as he drove himself into you should have embarrassed you but you could tell he enjoyed knowing how wet you were for him from the way he continued to quicken the pace just to hear your juices flowing over him. His grip on you was becoming more painful the more you moved against each other but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him know. He was letting go, showing you how much he wanted you, how hard he was for you, and you weren’t about to make him feel conscious over his affection.

“Maker...oh Din, Din I- you feel so good inside me. Filling me up like no one else. Could feel you so deep, gods, could feel you everywhere Din please- don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop, I need it. Need you, want you- want you to mark me, d-do whatever you want with me.” You had no hold over your own speech and weren’t sure if you were making any sense but Din moaned each time you praised him.

“Good girl, sweet girl...taking my cock so well, kriffing hell. Your- your pussy is squeezing the fuck out of me..could feel every tight inch of you stroking my cock Cyar’ika. Ah pfassk...you’re- you’re perfection.” Din moved the hand around your back up to your neck, pulling on your hair and pressing his lips with yours as his cock throbbed inside you. You whined as his tongue roughly swirled around your own, barely able to breathe as he continued to snap his hips against you and suddenly feeling a rush of relief as his navel rubbed at your clit until you came around him. Din broke the kiss, screaming expletives in his tongue as the force of your orgasm pushed his cock out of you. You shuddered as you gushed on his dick, wrapping your arms around his neck when he forced his cock into your tight cunt again. 

You were so overcome with emotions, so lost in Din’s scent mixing with your own, and his touch leaving bruises on your skin, that you didn’t notice the faint sounds of footsteps coming up the ramp and halting in the middle of the ship right in front of the door. But Din noticed, managing to look up just in time to see Cobb standing in the middle of the ship and staring with wide eyes at the scene unfolding in front of him. 

Something completely otherworldly took over the Mandalorian and he quickly sat up, expertly moving the two of you around until he was kneeling on the covers with you straddling his thighs. He smiled against your shoulder, allowing your hair to hide his face as he grabbed both of your hips and fucked up into you. 

He could vaguely see the Marshal and was surprised that he hadn't dropped the bottle of drink in his hand just yet. You wailed into the night air, arms keeping you stead in Din’s arms as he forced you on his pulsating dick over and over again. 

“Tell me...tell me Cyare, tell me how much you love it when I fuck you. How much you need my cock like the filthy little cockslut you are. Go on sweet girl, grind that little clit on me. Fucking tell me ner Ad’ika.” Din smacked your ass twice, chuckling when your moans grew more lewd with every touch he laid on you.

“I- I- ahhh love your cock...oh maker, no one fucks me like you. N-no one makes me c-cum like you. Fuck me harder D- ahhh,” Din bit down on your shoulder to prevent you from saying his name, looking through the mess of your hair and watching as his audience remained incapable of moving. 

“I own this pretty little pussy. Pffassk- ride me harder Mesh’la. You’re such a good girl, could feel your cunt drenching my thighs, the smell of you is driving me mad. Fuck- keep that pretty mouth open to me when I’m fucking you, let me hear you scream for me.”

“Please- please...fuck me harder, ruin my pussy. Gods- I..I’m so close please. Tell me you own me, tell me I’m you’re sweet girl. Please- I want to be good for you, want you to cum inside me Din...cum inside me. I need it, need you to fuck me like you own me and mark me, make me yours Mando. Cum in me, please-” 

“Ah fuck you’re my sweet little girl aren’t you? Wanting me to fuck a load in you, cum in you all night long and keep my seed in that tight cunt? That’s it sweetheart, I’m so fucking hard for you. Could feel you clenching around me...be a good girl and cum again ner kar'ta. Fuck, yes yes you feel so good wrapped around my cock Cyare you’re going to make me cum. Spill my seed in that tight, wet pussy, fill you up till you can taste it in your throat. Shit, and- and I’m going to keep fucking you sweet girl, till my cum is sliding down your thighs. My little fucktoy- come on, come on love, cum for me. Cum on me, drench me again. Mix your juices with me.” Din watched as Cobb finally had the mind to leave and he almost laughed at how the man almost tripped on his own foot as he sprinted out of the ship. He pushed you on your back and spread your thighs open, resting his weight on the arms around your head as he thrust in a few more times before he felt you clench around him. Leaning down, Din took a pert nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, growling into your skin as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls with long strings of his seed until he couldn’t breathe. He’d never cum this hard before and was sure to tell you when you had the state of mind to pay him any semblance of attention.

Din continued to lazily push into you, your words from earlier replaying in his mind as he felt you quiver around his softening cock. You were still coming down from your high and twitched occasionally when you felt him throb inside you. There was a pleasant kind of warmth washing over you and you sighed happily when you realized he was still bucking against you to push his cum in your belly. 

“D-din...you’re filling me up so good. Feel so full ah- gah.” He laughed when your body shook, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around until you were laying on his chest. You kissed his jaw and his neck, moaning in unison when you felt his dick rub against that sweet spot inside you. 

“That’s because I’ve never cum this hard sweet girl. You’ve milked me dry Cyare. Could feel you sucking my seed out of me.” He was amazed at your obvious embarrassment, wanting to tease you about it but choosing to wait for later instead.

Din rubbed at your back, kissing your forehead as he whispered sweet things in your ears and smiling when you nipped at his neck some more. 

“Promise me you’ll never leave.” Din’s quiet voice broke the silence and you pushed up to look into his eyes as you responded. “I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to go. I’ll stay here, always. I promise.” You kissed him gently and felt his pulse beneath your fingers calm at your words. 

Not much time has passed before Din had you on your knees in front of him, fucking your mouth and shoving you down on his cock until you gagged and his seed slipped from the corner of your mouth, mixing with your spit as it fell down your breasts. You lost count of how many times he brought you pleasure, and you made a mental note to ask him how he managed to fuck you all night long. You weren’t sure it was possible for a man to cum this many times over the course of one night but you had a feeling Din was not like anyone else. A man who has been touch starved for almost three decades must have had a lot of pent-up aggression that he needed to release. And you would gladly help him in any shape or form through that. 

And when he wasn’t pumping your cunt full of his cum, he was nuzzling into your neck and laying kisses across your arms, making sure he caressed every inch of your skin. You shouldn’t have been surprised that Din loved to snuggle with you but you did find it hilarious that such a big and scary Mandalorian whimpered when you licked down his neck as you nestled into his arms. You wouldn’t tell him just yet but besides his rough grasps and his filthy words, you loved to taste the saltiness of his skin and from the looks of it, the feelings were mutual because at some point in the night, he’d told you of all the times he had to lock himself up in the refresher and try his hardest to not think of your sweaty limbs entangling with his own as he kissed you.

By the time the two of you made it outside the following day, the twin suns had already been in the middle of the sky, scorching rays of heat on everyone across Mos Pelgo. You tried your hardest not to walk too funny, mostly because it made Din apologize every now and then, but it was difficult when you could still feel traces of his touch on you. You told him you needed him to stop making it obvious but realized he was apologizing out of regret not out of humor. It took you all of the afternoon to convince him that you were feeling more than okay and that you’d asked him for this. And when he didn’t seem to stop, you teased him and told him that you knew he secretly loved watching you wobble from side to side. 

This all, however, peaked when you walked into the cantina and tried to play Sabbac with Cobb Vanth and the others. You could tell that the Marshal was avoiding all conversation with you, going out of his way to pretend you weren’t even sitting on the table, let alone the room. You hoped that Mando hadn’t spoken with him or anything and decided to call it quits earlier in the night. When you did make it back to the ship and saw Din cleaning his weapons, you made sure the ship was secure before moving to sit on the bed across from him.

“Did you talk to Cobb today?” You gauged his reaction, already sensing that something was wrong when you saw him nervously clench his jaw before rubbing furiously at the beskar weapon.

“No, why do you ask?” Din wished he hadn’t already taken off his helmet because as soon as he responded, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.

“Din?”

He looked up at you and cleared his throat before speaking.

“He- he saw us...last night. I- I must have forgotten to raise the ramp and-” Din took a deep breath when you shot up from the cot and began to pace back and forth. 

“HE WHAT?”

“We were...I couldn’t- there wasn’t a chance I could…you felt too good around me Ad’ika I- I couldn’t stop. Not when you were clenching around me so tightly. Now when you were finally in my arms. I-” He stood up and walked towards you, taking your hands into his and kissing both of your wrists. You flushed at his words and looked up at him, only to find him blushing under your gaze. 

“You did it on purpose didn't you? You wanted him to see...to watch as you- as we...as I said-” Din didn’t let you finish the sentence, leaning down and molding his lips with yours as he walked you back to his bed. He pushed you down on the covers still holding your scents, his hold hardening the more you moaned against him. Before he could strip you of your clothes, you pushed him off and stuck out your finger in warning.

“Oh no you don’t. Go raise the ramp.”

“You’re giving me orders now Mesh’la?” Din raised an eyebrow at you as he got off of you and walked around the bed, halting at the doorstep to look back at you.

“Never…”

Translations:

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - my/mine

Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum - mine to love

Ni copad gar an te ca'nara - I want you all the time.

Ni vercopa be gar anay ca - I dream of you every night. 

Ner kar'ta - my heart

[darsynia]

Lis Du Feu | oneshot

(Cedric/Hermione, set during book 4, first date fluff)

Summary: Cedric wants to show Hermione something by the lake

Length: 3,588

He was really nervous. Cedric Diggory liked to do things right the first time—and it wasn't as if there would be a second time if he screwed this up. The thing was, he really did like her a lot, and not many students in the school, male or female, would appreciate what he wanted to show her. He checked one last time to see that everything was in order and started back toward the castle.

On his way across the field past the slowly swaying Whomping Willow, he could see the altered Quidditch Pitch in the distance and felt a pang of regret. It didn't seem quite fair to the seventh year students, to be denied a chance to play or watch their last year's worth of matches. If he admitted the truth to himself, he felt slightly guilty that he or Harry out of all of the school would have a chance to win some sort of Cup this year. He supposed it would have been more balanced if Harry—Cedric pushed this thought from his mind, knowing that he didn't truly resent the other boy's participation in the Tournament. He was unwilling to let himself follow along that particular train of thought. Hogwarts had two Champions, and that couldn't fail to be a good thing.

Just before he walked into the huge entryway, Cedric took one last look at the sun to judge the approximate time of day. His father had taught him how to do that when he'd been very young, along with how to gauge where he was based on the stars. He felt reasonably certain that the sun would be setting in a little less than an hour. Right, he said to himself with a little nod of self-encouragement. Time to find Hermione.

Even if they hadn't agreed to meet in the evening that night, Cedric knew he'd have been able to find her. He set off toward the library, thinking about his first conversation with the feisty Gryffindor.

He'd never really had occasion to notice her, as their classes were years apart, and their groups of friends quite different in personality and style. The moment that had changed all that had been the Sunday after Christmas, the day before quite a few of the students were scheduled to take the Hogwarts Express for an abbreviated Christmas holiday with their family (the Yule Ball having persuaded almost the entire student body to remain at the school during the actual holiday). Miss Hermione Granger had walked purposefully up to him after breakfast, a determined look on her face. Cedric knew who she was, of course—almost everyone did; she was the type of student to stand out whether or not she was best friends with a wizarding celebrity.

When she'd reached him, he'd gotten the strangest impression that she had mostly lost her nerve. This theory was confirmed when he saw that the hand holding her book bag was practically white from clutching it so hard. The fact that the girl hadn't feigned interest in something nearby or sought to exchange some sort of meaningless pleasantry with him had impressed him very much.

"Mr. Diggory?" she'd said—and he had almost laughed at her. 'Mr. Diggory' was his father—but it was also a sign of respect, and it would be very ungracious of him to respond to something like that by snickering at her.

"Miss Granger." Cedric's polite response had taken no thought.

"I—" She had faltered, her brows furrowing. Hermione had looked at him as though she really had expected someone very different. He had almost wanted to ask her if she were lost. "I wanted to talk to you about the badges."

Cedric had flushed a deep red. The anti-Potter badges had really upset him at first, particularly because he didn't feel (much) resentment toward Harry for being a wild card surprise addition to the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Nothing he could say would persuade his friends to stop making or displaying them, though, and finally he'd given up. He was more intent on his studies and the preparation for the mysterious tasks he would have to endure throughout the year anyway.

He had seen with even more dismay that she'd taken his embarrassed reaction in the worst possible way.

"Harry wouldn't tell you, but they're really upsetting!" she'd cried, giving up on the book bag and twisting her hands in front of her as though the strength of her emotions were too strong to express in mere words. "And now the Slytherins have gone and altered them—isn't there something you can do?"

"I've tried," he had told her truthfully. "Nothing I said did much good, but if you want, I'll be more severe with them about it."

Then it had been Hermione's turn to blush.

"I—Well. Thank you…" she'd said lamely, shaking her head as though she'd missed something important as she'd walked away.

On the train ride home and periodically during the holiday, Cedric had gone back over their brief conversation in his mind. His first impression had been that he was quite impressed with her—it would never have occurred to him to speak to a sixth year student as a fourth year one, much less scold them with censure about their behavior. Cedric had a photographic memory (something that made him feel almost as if he were cheating on tests, which his father had called a ridiculous reaction when he'd spoken to him about it his first year), and he'd found himself dwelling on the way her hands had twisted with nervousness and how her eyes had flashed when he'd first turned red, misunderstanding his discomfort.

It was just a part of his nature to analyze and mentally hover over inconsequential details, looking for patterns and signs in things beyond the initial interaction. He hadn't quite realized, however, that he'd never really focused on her face—not until the day of the second task. He'd made eye contact with Harry in the water, understanding for a split second an unspoken need to throw off the rules of the task and rescue all four of them—but then Viktor had shown up with his fearsome shark's head, and Cedric had refocused his efforts on freeing Cho.

That night, he'd felt guilty—not because he hadn't given in to the sudden compulsion to cut everyone loose and pull them to the surface, but because rather than seeing Cho's grateful and caring face when he shut his eyes, all he'd seen was Hermione's slightly frightened, frozen one.

He'd caught himself looking for her many times over the next few weeks, wanting to replace the twisting hands and underwater stasis with a happier image. Hermione was a smart, observant witch, however, and after a while, he found that she'd already be looking at him when he sought her out. After a week of this, Cedric had made a decision.

That next weekend, he had walked across the courtyard with a box in his hands, and when he had found Hermione with her friend Ronald Weasley, he'd asked politely to speak to her. Then, Cedric had handed her the box. It had contained every single 'The REAL Champion' button he'd been able to find.

"You didn't need to do this!" she'd said in wonderment.

"I think I did," Cedric had responded thoughtfully as he'd looked at her surprised but pleased expression, glad that he finally had a suitable photograph of Hermione for his internal scrapbook.

Their friendship had grown a lot since then, and he was reasonably sure she felt the same way about him as he did about her. Now all that remained was to find out for certain.

"Are you—going to go in?" Susan Bones asked him hesitantly, and Cedric realized he was standing directly in the doorway to the library. He looked down and shut his eyes for a moment and then shook his head slightly, his ears turning red.

"I was standing here for quite a while, wasn't I?" he queried his fellow Housemate.

"I wouldn't know," she answered him with a shy smile, her cheeks turning slightly pink when he smiled at her. "I just got here." He gestured for her to precede him into the room, nodding a friendly goodbye to her as they parted ways at the main desk.

He found Hermione in her regular corner by one of the thick windows, surprised to find that she had already packed up her books, quills, and parchment before he'd gotten there. The implications of this (he knew that it was a habit of hers to become so immersed in her work that she forgot nearly everything else) were very encouraging. When she caught sight of him, she waved and hopped up out of her chair.

"All done with your work?" he asked her as he reached down to pick up her heavy bag of books.

"Oh! Thank you," Hermione said, reaching out a hand as though to help support the weight. "It's awfully heavy," she apologized.

"I can manage." Cedric smiled down at her, and she smiled back, neither one realizing that they'd stopped walking when they'd made eye contact. Hermione seemed to realize this first, and she started walking again, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone that he suspected had a small measure of shyness to it.

"I'm not actually quite finished yet," she admitted, causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. "There wasn't much sense in completing it today anyway, though—Harry and Ron won't have theirs done for days, and we usually study together." Cedric caught up with her and started leading the way across the grounds, heading for the lake. He realized she'd stopped talking and shifted the bag's weight a bit on his shoulder as he turned to look at her.

"Go on," he encouraged.

"Oh, there wasn't much else to say really," Hermione said with a nervous little laugh. "But—where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," he responded confidently as he glanced up at a sky that was starting to show the first signs of the sunset. "You'll like it, I promise," Cedric assured her. At that, she turned her head toward him to smile again, and the falling light fell directly across her face, illuminating her brown eyes in a way that reminded him of rich brown velvet. Something of his reaction to the sight must have shown on his face because she started to blush, but didn't break their eye contact.

"I trust you," she said softly.

By the time they reached the lake, the formerly blue sky was shot across with red, orange, and yellow as the first stages of sunset began to paint its way across the horizon. He paused, waiting for Hermione to realize that he'd done so rather than break the silence. She stopped not far away, turning to face him with a questioning expression.

"What now?" she asked.

"Now you prove that you trust me," Cedric replied, setting her bag down beside a familiar looking rock and casting a quick charm to make it inconspicuous. She moved to stand beside him, her eyes alight with a curiosity that was amplified when he reached into his pocket to remove a swath of cloth. He could feel her trembling slightly next to him and wasn't surprised when she sat on the rock rather than let him see that she was nervous.

"I want to show you something," Cedric explained, moving around behind her with the fabric in his hands.

"That's generally hard to do when one's blindfolded," Hermione pointed out, tipping her head back to look at him with a clever glint in her eyes.

"Let's just say that it's quite an experience, and I want you to appreciate it fully," he responded to her in a teasing tone of his own, explaining his intent at the same time, "something that's hard to do when you can see what's coming from a few yards away." He covered her eyes very gently with the soft linen, his confidence bolstered when her hand came up to touch his gently as he tied the blindfold behind her head.

"I trust you," she repeated.

"Good."

Cedric turned his hand slightly to clasp hers, feeling a little tingle of excitement as he realized it was the first time they'd held hands, even if this was just to facilitate his guiding her steps. Her cheeks had turned slightly rosy under the blindfold, and he wondered if her thoughts were similar to his own.

Her steps were hesitant, and so with a gentle squeeze, he laid a hand on her shoulder and transitioned to guiding her from behind. The fading gold light from the sun touched up a fiery glow to her hair, and the warmth of the day made it easy for him to catch the scent of it. Everything was going perfectly to plan; he could see the patch of lilies in their little alcove on the lake, one or two of which had already begun to open and release their glittering pollen.

He positioned Hermione safely about a half a yard from the water, not wishing for her to step forward to orient herself and end up in the lake when he removed the blindfold. Neither of them had spoken since he'd begun to lead her, each sensing that the moment to come would be exceptional and not wanting to ruin it with something mundane. Cedric couldn't resist kissing her shoulder as he stepped away from her… He was very glad he'd been able to see her reaction to this impulsive gesture; it had been as though someone had lit up her face in the same way that the sunset was lighting their surroundings.

Just as he'd known they would, the lily pads floating in front of them on the lake shook slightly as the remaining flowers opened their petals in response to the vibrant sunset and released thousands of their fiery pollen.

"You can remove the blindfold now, Hermione," he said in the barest of whispers, touched by the way she leaned unconsciously toward the sound of his voice. Her delicate hands released the loose knot at the back of her head—and then she gasped in absolute wonder.

The sky was ablaze with light, the vivid colors overlaying the water with a deep crimson gold glow—but that wasn't what made the girl in front of him draw a short breath in awe. Hovering and swirling around her were the twinkling, glowing bits of pollen set free by the gorgeous flowers that still floated in the lake at their feet. Cedric knew he would remember this moment forever—the lovely girl bathed in the light of a beautiful sunset, surrounded by the firefly-like pollen that even now were starting to drift away towards the water.

Hermione turned to him, holding her hands out as if to say that she couldn't bear to experience something so amazing alone. He went to her gladly, draping an arm around her shoulder as the two of them watched the rest of the sunset reflected on the lake, punctuated by some of the fiery pieces of pollen that drifted around them lazily. When at last the bright oranges and reds had faded to gentle pinks and purples, she spoke.

"That was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life," Hermione said, simply.

"Tonight, I'd have to agree with you," Cedric murmured, not explaining that seeing the beauty of her reaction coupled with the experience itself had been indelibly marked in his memory as a perfect moment in time. She turned her body to face him; their casual stance turned immediately into a close embrace—something he didn't mind at all, and neither, it seemed, did she.

"You know," she began with an odd note in her voice that he thought he recognized from their very first conversation, "I had thought you brought me out here to—" Hermione broke off quickly and ducked her head against his shoulder.

"To…" he prompted, finding the odd mix of bravery and shyness endearing. He could feel the movement as she shook her head. "What could be more intimidating than speaking to me about those badges?" he wondered aloud. That prompted a reaction, and Cedric decided that he was very glad that Hermione had been sorted to Gryffindor.

"To kiss me." She had lifted her head, but was staring determinedly at his chest as though she didn't want to see what his reaction would be if it were negative. Cedric felt a strong rush of confidence as well as a wave of excitement that made him feel a bit weak—the two feelings at once were very exhilarating.

"Would you like me to?" he asked, hoping for the right answer.

Hermione didn't speak, but rather lifted her eyes to his. There was a sparkling reflection in them that he was reasonably certain came from a bit of pollen from over his shoulder…

"Cedric," she said—and he could hear excitement, wonder, desire, and uncertainty all shining clearly from the way she spoke his name. He became determined at that moment to erase all signs of the latter. He wondered what his eyes were telling her as he looked intently into hers, lifting the hand that had been resting on her shoulder to brush one of her curly locks away from her lips where it had been blown by a sudden wind coming up across the lake.

Hermione leaned into him slightly when his fingers brushed across her mouth, her lashes drifting down over her eyes as his hand slid across her cheek and down, cupping her chin. The very last of the sun's light illuminated her hair, setting the stray hairs alight and reminding him of what he'd brought her here to see.

"Lis du feu," he whispered just before their lips met. The kiss was quite appropriate to the fire motif, for all that it was incredibly tender. They seemed to melt into each other's mouths. Her lips were so sweet and soft that Cedric couldn't resist sliding his fingers into her hair and drawing her closer to him. When they finally broke the kiss, his heart was in his throat from the sheer beauty of it—and the fact that Hermione met his eyes steadily and proudly afterwards sent him well on the way to falling in love with her.

"I—" she started to say and then stopped, blushing and burying her head into his shoulder. "I want to say 'thank you,' but that sounds like such a silly thing to say after a kiss!" Her voice was muffled against his shirt, and he stroked her hair gently.

"Thank you, Hermione," he said with pure honesty in his voice. She pressed back against his hand, leaning her head to the side to regard him warmly before stretching herself up on her very tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the lips again. Though she settled back down almost immediately, the contact had been just as electric as their first kiss had been.

"What does 'Lis du feu' mean?" Hermione asked him, turning in his arms to look at the beautiful flowers floating on the lake, the fading purple light from the last of the sunset causing the white petals to glow with a slight bluish cast. Cedric leaned his head against hers, his breath causing the hair near her ears to dance.

"Fire lily," he answered in a hushed voice. "They only release pollen twice a month." Hermione gently traced their twined fingers with her free hand as she asked her next question, the shyness still there but almost gone.

"Was tonight the first or second?" Cedric caught the implication in her voice, as well as a slight throbbing of excitement that he recognized as her desire to know everything she could about the lily. He was fairly certain he would know where to find her tomorrow.

"Second—but, I'm sure we could find something else to do…"

Cedric felt a moment's anxiety, wondering if he'd pushed a little too far, amazing kiss notwithstanding.

"Yes, I'd like that," Hermione said, resting her arms on the ones he'd encircled her with and squeezing them affectionately. "Should we start back?" she asked next, unmoving as though it were entirely his decision. His answer was to pull away regretfully, retaining hold of her hand with the deliberate purpose of holding it this time. When they reached the location of her stashed bag, he lifted it easily to his shoulder and then turned to her, a very playful thought having just occurred to him.

"So, I'll meet you in the library tomorrow?" he offered, allowing his voice to show how much he wanted her to say yes. She looked slightly surprised at first and then nodded.

"What would you like to do?" she asked, quickly blushing as one possibility seemed to occur to her. Cedric stepped forward to look down at her, wondering if his expression reflected all of the excitement and flutterings of desire that he felt when contemplating her unspoken suggestion.

"I thought that would be obvious," he said, kissing her lightly. Her cheeks flushed bright pink; clearly, he'd guessed correctly. When he spoke again, however, it was with a broad smile and a wink. "I thought you might want to look up the Lis du feu."

Without waiting for her response, he started toward the castle, resisting the urge to whistle cheerfully.

[delimeful]

tear it down (around my head) (4)

warnings: PTSD, trauma responses, hypervigilance, negative thinking

-

It was a borderline miracle that they’d managed to finish their breakfast with the experimenting that Remus and Patton started doing, but Virgil couldn’t deny that seeing Remus so clearly enjoying himself was enough to make even his cold, dead heart flutter.

If only the source of his teammate’s happiness wasn’t a ticking time bomb in the form of an insanely dangerous supervillain.

Virgil sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as the growing headache in his temple pulsed. He was used to going without sleep, well-adapted to it, but with the added stress of inviting yet another person into whatever the hell this disaster was, a migraine seemed imminent.

Doctor Emile Picani had been a contact of Janus’s for a while, and Virgil had even had a few sessions with him at his partners’ insistence, though they mostly consisted of surface level conversation and long awkward silences that he would remember later with an embarrassed wince. The guy was friendly and enthusiastic, and Virgil knew that if he got hurt while trying to help them deal with the Lightshow issue, it would suck for everyone.

Even so, they didn’t have very many options. After breakfast, Janus had tried to gauge just how much Lightshow was missing, and found that it was way too much. Like, a deeply concerning amount. The guy was still functioning, and clearly understood societal rules and general knowledge, but any specifics about himself, his loved ones, or his past in general were out of reach.

According to him, anyway. Virgil had his suspicions.

Either way, they’d called in a therapist, and now they were all suited up and crowded in one of the small guest rooms, listening as Picani asked questions about the situation.

Virgil was leaning against the back wall and watching Lightshow carefully, ignoring the way Janus shot him a look. A few shadows curled around his head like a dark visor, trying to keep the overhead fluorescent light from worsening his headache. He brushed his hand against the manifestation of his power gently in thanks, wondering if Patton-- Lightshow’s energy ever responded to him subconsciously like this. He couldn’t imagine that harsh burning light ever trying to protect anyone, even its source.

“I know I was wandering for a while,” Lightshow was saying, “but it gets hazier the further back I try to remember, like one big blur. It… It kind of hurts, when I focus too hard?”

He was clinging to a stuffed plush deer, one that Picani had brought along since they refused to meet him in his office for something so sensitive. Why his first thought when treating a supervillain had been to bring a cuddly Disney plush, Virgil had no idea.

Picani hummed thoughtfully. “I understand. It could be a way your mind is protecting itself from the hurt of certain memories or the information in them, like Spinel from the Steven Universe movie! Self-inflicted amnesia is much trickier to address than injury-based amnesia, least of all because removing that protection too soon can make your situation worse.”

“Everyone’s counting on me to know, though,” Lightshow said, furrowing his brow in stubborn determination. It was a far cry from the glassy arrogant expression that he usually wore during their fights. “I… I also have these strange dreams.”

Janus’s interest caught with a tapping of his fingers, only visible to those who knew about his little tells, the ones he allowed himself in friendly company. “Dreams?”

Lightshow glanced up at him, and then looked back down at the plush like he was telling it instead. “They don’t make very much sense, and I don’t-- I don’t really recognize the people in them most of the time, but sometimes I get that feeling-- when you feel like you’ve done something before?”

"Déjà vu?” Janus offered.

“Gesundheit,” Lightshow replied, and Remus let out a cackle. Virgil himself just barely muffled a snort, forcing his face impassive when Lightshow peeked back at him.

“Can you share what the dreams are normally about?” Picani prompted, bringing them back on topic.

Lightshow went tense, his fists clenching. Virgil couldn’t help but stiffen up in response, though matching gestures from both his teammates kept him from moving forward.

“I…,” Lightshow struggled for a moment, before visibly drooping. “I can’t. It’s all just… too much. I’m really sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Picani replied, exchanging a quick glance with Janus. “This is what I’m here for after, all!”

Lightshow tilted his head slightly in puppylike confusion, curly brown hair flopping to one side.

“Patton,” the therapist started, “if you’d like, I can try and help you soften that mental block. I’m primarily a normal therapist, but I do have a low-grade power, and I’ve been licensed to use it to help patients.”

From the front, Lightshow must have kept his composure, because none of the others reacted, but from behind, Virgil could see the way his back muscles bunched up in a familiar configuration, like he was facing something that he desperately wanted to flee.

The question was, what was he afraid of? Picani hadn’t even revealed what the power was yet.  Could it be that the very idea of a mental power was alarming to him?

Abruptly, Virgil remembered when Janus’s hands had grabbed onto Lightshow during their first encounter, the way his alarm had abruptly spiked into utter, mindless terror.

… Was he just afraid of people using their abilities on him in general?

“If you think it will help us figure this out, then we can try it,” Lightshow said, his voice a little wobbly from nerves.

Picani hesitated, a little thrown off his script. “Well, uh, let me tell you about it! The power is called Nostalgia, and it allows me to help a patient safely pull forward repressed memories that might otherwise be difficult to manage. I wouldn’t usually recommend it in the first session, but I’ve been told this is an urgent situation.”

Virgil had expected Lightshow’s next question to be, “Will you see the memories?”

The assumption wasn’t even borne from suspicion (mostly), it was just a natural question to ask about psychic abilities, to gauge the level of intrusion. Virgil himself had asked it almost immediately upon learning about it.

Instead, what Lightshow said was, “How much will it hurt?”

His posture was still tense, braced for the worst.

Virgil could see all the little ways that Janus and Remus responded to the implications of that particular question, but Picani didn’t flinch, maintaining his friendly, open demeanor.

“It won’t hurt at all unless something goes very wrong,” he stated firmly. “The point of using my power is to make this recall as painless for you as possible, and I’ve trained with it for a long time to make sure that even if something does go wrong, I’ll be able to disengage ASAP, okay?”

“Okay.” Lightshow nodded, a little bit too fast, almost before Picani was done speaking. “Let’s do it.”

Picani reached out and settled his hand on one of Lightshow’s temples, closing his eyes, and somehow, Virgil found himself equally worried about both of them.

There was a long stretch of silence where they held this position, the local superhero team sitting as quiet outsiders with bated breath.

Then, abruptly, Picani withdrew, shaking his hand a bit as though he’d gotten a static shock. Lightshow’s eyes snapped open, and they flickered from place to place in the room before settling on Picani with worry.

“I-- Did I mess it up?” he asked with no little uncertainty, a far cry from the hyperventilating, emotional mess Virgil had been the first time this method had worked on him.

“There’s no way to ‘mess up’ in my office, only temporary roadblocks,” Picani replied with a smile, flexing his hand a few more times. “You’ve got a pretty strong roadblock though, and it would take a lot more than my measly little station wagon to break through it. I’d say your nightmares are probably the bits and pieces that are slipping through the cracks.”

“So they are real memories?” Lightshow asked, voice heavy with some indecipherable emotion. Picani nodded.

“Did you see anything recognizable in these dreams,” Janus asked, shifting forwards slightly, “either of you? If these are real memories, any information from them could be crucial to helping find out what happened to Patton.”

“He would have to be asleep for me to see them at all,” Picani replied, his mouth turned down at the corners.

“I…,” Lightshow wavered. “It’s always so hard to think in nightmares. I don’t think-- I don’t remember recognizing anything.”

“Are you sure?” Janus pressed, and Lightshow’s breathing turned a shade quicker.

Remus stood with jarring quickness, stepping to Lightshow’s side. “That’s enough,” he announced firmly. “Sometimes brain bears are better left unpoked, unless you’re into being maimed.”

He hesitated only the barest moment before reaching an arm out, the closest to vulnerable that Virgil had seen him in front of anyone but them in ages. He felt protectiveness for his partner swell and bubble up, ready to snarl if Remus’s offer was harshly rebuffed, but it ended up being unnecessary.

Lightshow rose to meet Remus like a magnet, slotting against his side as though they’d known each other for years, as though the many rough scars that littered Remus’s body barely even registered. There was no disgust or wariness in the lines of Lightshow’s face, only exhausted relief as he clung on. It seemed that they’d finally found someone who was just as much of a squeezer as Remus when it came to cuddling.

Janus relented immediately at Remus’s warning, his expression dampening slightly with regret. He reached out a gloved hand, one of his visible ones. “Of course, beloved. I didn’t mean to upset you. Either of you. Or your mind bears.”

Remus reached out and clasped his hand tightly, his forgiveness coming easy once earned.

“I wasn’t beary upset,” Lightshow added, gaze darting between their interlocked hands and Virgil like he was trying to piece together a particularly challenging puzzle. He shook his head after a moment, his brow taking on a troubled wrinkle as he refocused. “I shouldn’t be-- It’s my fault for not being able to give you anything useful. And after all you’ve done for me, too.”

The words felt well-worn, almost recited. Virgil felt his face scrunch up in confusion for a heartbeat, and by the bewildered look Remus shot him over Lightshow’s head, he wasn’t the only one. As grumpy as he’d been about it, a first aid kit and a single night’s stay in a dusty guest room wasn’t exactly a burden for them to arrange. It certainly shouldn’t have been enough to drive someone to eternal gratitude.

“Dearheart,” Janus started reassuringly, and since when had Lightshow earned a nickname? “We don’t hold debts for little things like taking in someone in trouble with nowhere to go. In fact, if you ask me, nobody should be paying for basic life essentials like food and shelter. Have you read any Kropotkin?”

He led the way out of the room as he spoke, playing an excellent distraction as Remus and Lightshow trailed after, and Virgil waited until they were down the hall to close the door and loom over the last occupant of the room.

“Doctor Picani,” he greeted, because despite their sessions, he hadn’t yet hit the required level of emotional openness to be anything but bluntly polite acquaintances with the guy. Besides, this was about business, not him personally.

“Virgil!” Picani replied, because his default setting was an alarming level of friendliness. “I hope one of my favorite clients isn’t about to ask me anything that would violate my patient-doctor confidentiality!”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about whatever you think is going on with his brain. I want to know if he’s dangerous.”

“Because of who he is? Because that still sounds an awful lot like his brain you’re asking about,” Picani replied. Some of Virgil’s stress must have shown on his face, because Picani reached out and set a hand on his arm, offering him a sympathetic smile. “If he was a danger to himself or others, I would be legally required to take action. Which I am notably not doing.”

“Like you care about the law,” Virgil scoffed, “you work with illegal vigilantes.”

Still, his shoulders relaxed slightly, some of the strain falling from them.

Picani’s word was enough of a reassurance, for now.

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[spinster-sisters]

Teaching. CJH, PSH

TW: Exhibitionism, fingering, threesome, uhhhh, general dirty talk, dom seoghwa, sub reader, sub jongho @atinyatinybby this ones for u homie

In retrospect making out with Jongho in the middle of the practice room was a bad idea. But the others had supposedly gone home and it was late enough that the staff shouldn't be there either. But looking back? Still not the brightest idea.

But Jongho was mostly a more private kind of guy, enough so that even the other members had no clue about your relationship. So when he practically jumped you the moment the others left the room, you couldn't help but allow it.

So here you were, pressed against the wall, feet barely grazing the floor, your boyfriend's strong arms supporting the majority of your weight, kissing him with all of the force you could muster. Their dance practice had been pretty strenuous so he was panting, and more than a little sweaty, but that didn't stop either of you.

The two of you finally came up for air for a moment, both of you now breathing heavily. You stared into Jongho's eyes for a moment and he returned your gaze. Finally, the situation seemed to dawn on you and you couldn't help but giggle.

"What are you giggling about?" Jongho asked, fighting back his own laughter.

"It's nothing, you're just cute" you replied trying to silence your giggles.

You were going to continue to giggle, but a smirk and a sudden grind of the hips from your boyfriend made you gasp. You could feel the outline of his dick through his sweats. This wasn't completely uncharted territory for the two of you, as you have had sex a couple of times, but certainly never in a place as open as this. You couldn't help it. It left a more than apparent heat between your legs.

Just as your arms swung around your boyfriend's neck once again to pull him back down a voice sounded.

"What do we have here?" It called, cool and terribly calm.

Both of your heads whipped around and a small squeak came out of Jongho. And though the door came Seonghwa. He was almost too casual as he gently closed the door behind him and slowly turned to face you and your beet-faced boyfriend.

The taller man walked to the side of the room, the clacking of his shoes was deafening in the now silent room. He picked something up from the table and held it up in a small wave.

"You know I came back looking for my phone, little did I know I would find our maknea up to no good." Seonghwa turned to the two of you with an amused look.

"Honestly Jongho, I didn't know you had it in you,"

At this sudden jab, your boyfriend seemingly awoke from his stupor. He shook his head to clear it before returning,

"What's that supposed to mean?" he complained, though it came out much more like a whine than a comeback. You were still at a loss for words.

"Oh, I'm not insulting you. You're a perfectly handsome and charming young man. I just figured that you would be far too reserved to be engaging in any kind of sexual activity, much less with our very own Y/N." His voice was steady, despite the situation. But now that you had been addressed for the first time you were finally compelled to speak.

"Sorry," you muttered meekly, clutching Jongho just the tiniest bit tighter.

At the sound of your voice, Seonghwa finally turned his attention to you with a concerned look.

"What on earth are you sorry for, sweetheart?" It was a common nickname the boys used for you, but in the current context, the way it sounded coming from him practically burned holes in your ears. No longer able to handle the prolonged eye contact you buried your face in Jongho's chest.

"Don't go hiding away, not after that wonderful show you just put on," you could hear his smile through his voice. Jonghos hand came down to your head in a comforting touch as your burned even brighter.

"What do you mean show?" Your boyfriend asked affronted.

"Exactly what I said, it was kind of cute seeing you two all over each other. I just hope you know what you're doing,"

At this, you dared to look at the man again, though you were still safely huddled in Jonghos arms. His attention was on your boyfriend for the time being.

"I would love to see in action,"

Oh.

It seemed to dawn on both of you at the same time what it was exactly that Seonghwa was referring to.

"W-wait so," you spoke, voice shaky, "you want to watch"

Seonghwa met your eyes again with an impossibly kind smile.

"I would so more than just watch If you would allow it, yes. Just to make sure you both are getting the most you can out of it anyways." As he spoke Seonghwa moved closer to the two of you where a metal chair sat. He positioned it to face you and Jongho before sitting down.

You looked up at your boyfriend to gauge his reaction. Honestly, you would be lying if you said you were opposed to the idea, but it would be a hard no if Jongho looked uncomfortable.

Jongho's face was still dripping sweat from earlier, and his tanned skin was glowing under the fluorescent light, but he seems to be deeply considering this offer.

After a moment he meets your eyes. All it took was a small nod on your behalf for Jongho to turn to the older man and speak.

"I guess," a long pause, "I guess that would be ok"

Seonghwas face morphed into satisfaction as he fully reclined in his metal chair. Honestly, neither you nor Jongho knew exactly what to do next so you both slowly pulled away from each other, waiting to be directed.

Seonghwa sized the two of you up for a moment.

"Come here," he motioned to the room. Both you and Jongho glanced at each other, unsure who the command was directed at.

"Both of you please," the man asked politely.

You took Jonghos had and together you made your way twords Seonghwa. He waited for a moment before speaking.

"Well, how are you supposed to do anything when she is still so covered up," as he spoke one lithe hand came out to snap the waistband of your shorts.

Jongho blushed but turned to with a shy smile and once you returned the gesture the strong hands of your boyfriend made quick work of pulling your athletic shorts down your legs. They pooled around your ankles. Honestly, you had never thought any other member would see your body like this but looking at your boyfriend's face you could see a small light of pride in his eyes because yes you were so beautiful and now someone else knew exactly how beautiful his girlfriend was.

In a sudden movement, Seonghwas hands reached out and pulled you by your hips into his lap facing your Jongho. A surprised squeak left your mouth and a reserved chuckle came from deep in Seonghwas chest. One of his hands came down to your knee and gently urged your legs apart. The wet spot in your underwear was far too obvious for either of the men to miss and your hands instinctively flew to your face.

Seonghwas gentle touch stroked its way slowly up your thigh, carefully to not get too close to the wetness, the stain now growing embarrassingly large. A hand came to your wrist and when it successfully urged your own away from your face you saw it was Jongho who was smiling suspiciously bright.

"Don't worry baby, you're doing just fine," he spoke in gentle reassuring words that calmed your racing heart. You took this moment to truly look at your boyfriend, who dawned a fitted t-shirt and his pair of sweats that made it all too obvious he was enjoying the view. A sudden sigh came from behind you.

"You two are just too cute together, honestly." Despite the sweetness of his words, it was at this moment that Seonghwa chose to dip his hand to cup your heat. You choked and your eyes flew to the door, suddenly all too aware that it was not locked, absolutely anyone could walk in just as Seonghwa had done and witness this unfolding scene. You couldn't help it, you felt your hole twitch. Seonghwa could feel it too. His gaze followed yours to the door.

"Oh, that's interesting. Seems your little girlfriend gets turned on knowing anyone could see her." Seonghwa leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "who knew such a sweet girl could be so dirty."

"Oh," was Jonghos response. Looking back at him you noticed that Seonghwas words likely did not have his full attention as his gaze was locked onto where the older man was stroking your folds over the damp material. Your hips were twitching every time his fingertips made contact with you.

"Jongho are you even listening? These are important things to know if you're going to be fucking her regularly." Seonghwa chided.

Jonghos eyes snapped over your shoulder where the older man was. Jonghos eyes were big and doe-like. You were suddenly very thankful you could not see Seonghwa over your shoulder as Jongho looked more than a little embarrassed.

"O-ok" he sputtered out.

One slim finger gently pressed into your hole over the material and you gasped.

"Now that I have your full attention, Jongho, do you have any questions for me?" Seonghwa was speaking in that same dangerously relaxed tone he had been this whole experience and it made your body shudder as he teasingly pressed a digit into you again.

Jonghos eyes fell down to your core again. Your underwear was sticking all too obscenely to your cunt and even through the material, you could see every twitch your body gave at Seonghwas gentle strokes.

Jongho looked up at Seonghwa again.

"How do you do that?"

At this, the older man chuckled at full volume.

"What? This?" Seonghwa punctuated his words by pressing two fingers onto your clit then giving it two tight circles. You audibly moaned for the first time this evening.

"I mean, you haven't even done anything yet, not really, and she's already so.." your boyfriend trailed off.

"Responsive?" Seonghwa finished.

Just to make something clear, sex with Jongho was never bad. In fact, it was great by all accounts. The only real "qualm" you had was that it had always been very vanilla, which was mostly because Jongho himself was inexperienced and usually needed a push to do something. This was that push.

"Jongho, please tell me your fingerings your girlfriend." Seonghwa sounded almost exasperated as he continued his ministrations. Jongho was quick to explain.

"I do, it's just. You seem to be so good at it." Your boyfriend was watching with rapt attention as his oldest member toyed with you in such a way that you were already panting with anticipation.

"Now that, my sweet boy, is all down to practice." You could hear the smirk in his voice, but you were far too concerned with the pleasure he was giving you to pay too much attention.

His hand pulled away for just a moment to slip beneath the hem of your soaked underwear and pull them off your body. Your thighs stayed pressed together for a moment, but this time it was Jonghos strong grip who pried them apart.

You were now bare for both of the men to see and also suddenly aware that your wetness had been leaking into Seonghwas pant leg.

One of his slim fingers dipped back down and slid through your folds, collecting your wetness. You shuddered a gasp at the first full contact. Seonghwa rubbed the now glistening finger against his thumb, and in a deep rumbling voice called out.

"Kneel down"

Jongho reacted almost a little too quickly, falling to his knees before you, eyes transfixed on your leaking hole. Seonghwa presented his slick-covered fingers to your boyfriend.

"Go on, have a taste."

Drool almost fell from your mouth when your boyfriend's plush lips wrapped around Seonghwas finger. He sucked in clean with a groan before popping off with a groan. Jongho looked up into your eyes.

"Your so sweet baby," he complimented all too kindly. Your mouth hung open in surprise.

"I bet she is," Seonghwa remarked, "now watch closely," he commanded. At this, the man plunged a long finger deep into your hole. You whined in surprise and Jongho watched with full attention.

Seonghwas fingers were long and slim compared to your boyfriend's thicker ones, so the stretch was not an issue. Instead, it was the skill with which he chose his actions. His finger pumped gently in and out of you, each time prodding your walls looking for your most sensitive places.

"Jongho, do you know why we do this?" Seonghwa asked the man. He responded with a simple shake of the head "no"

"Well, while it obviously brings her pleasure, the goal is to make sure that she is aroused enough to take a dick without any pain," Seonghwas spoke evenly over the now constant noises you were letting slip. Jongho nodded absently.

After just a moment Seonghwa found what he was looking for. His finger brushed against a spot inside you that made your legs twitch and cry out far too loud that was wise, but the man didn't seem to care. Your head fell back onto his shoulder as he continued to massage that particular spot.

"Ah, there it is." He spoke through his smirk. Slipping in another finger he continued to rub at your walls all too skillfully, allowing you to moan freely at the waves of pleasure coming from your core.

"Jongho, bring your hand here," you heard his call out distantly. Jongho brought his hand up to your body. Seonghwa pulled his fingers from you, and taking your boyfriend's hand gently in his own he urged the younger man's two fingers inside you. The feeling was altogether different but certainly not unwelcome. Seonghwas positioned Jonghos hand in a way that with the slightest push on your boyfriend's behalf his thick finger would be curling perfectly against that same spot.

All it took was an anticipated whine from you for Jongho to do exactly that.

"Ah! Jongho!" You cried your boyfriend's name as he found his rhythm. His face screwed in concentration as he focused on bringing you as much pleasure as possible and oh boy was he succeeding.

"See Jongho? It's not that hard. Once you find that spot she'll be putty in your hands." You turned your head to look at the man. Seonghwa finished his remark by popping his wet fingers into his own mouth sucking your juices off his fingers. Feeling your gaze he looked over to his shoulder where you still lay helplessly spent, letting out a train of obscene noises.

Seonghwa smiled at you far too kindly. As he did so his hand came down and you watched as his kind smile turned mischievous. His two fingers found your clit once again, rubbing tight slow circles onto the bud. Your practical blubbered as you felt your orgasm approach far too quickly. Seonghwa seemed to notice this first.

"Jongho, it seems like your girlfriend is about to cum. Should we let her?"

At this Jongho looked up at the man with an inquisitive look. And you let out a desperate cry of 'yes please!' That was largely ignored by both men.

"Why wouldn't we?" He asked still massaging your walls with his delightfully thick fingers.

"Because, sweet boy, the longer you make them wait for it, the better it will feel when they finally cum." Seonghwa explained. You have officially decided that Seonghwa is the devil.

"Oh," Jongho thought about it for a moment. But you were dangerously close. Just a few more moments and you would surely snap, as you couldn't seem to catch a break from a constant stimulation the two men gave.

Just as it seems like Jongho was going to deny you your hand came down to clamp on his wrist, and with a look of pure desperation directed at your sweet boyfriend he seemed to desire.

"I think she can cum, she's been such a good sport." He said with a smile. You heard Seonghwa chuckle.

"She really has."

As soon as you had their confirmation it seems like your body could no longer hold back. You were practically spasming and your email would likely have been heard by anyone left in the building, as white-hot pleasure radiated out from your core. You faintly herd Seonghwa urge Jongho to not spit pumping you till you were finished as it would amplify your sensation. Your mind went blank as your orgasm just kept coming, and when you finally came down you all but collapsed onto Seonghwa.

After several long deep breaths on your behalf, as well as your boyfriend rubbing your legs soothingly, your brain finally returned to normal. Looking at your boyfriend now, you saw his pretty face watching your own with interest and as your eyes moved down you saw his own impressive tent in his sweats. You lick your dry lips, deciding you needed to return the favor.

[headaching]

it's been like 4 hours and I'm only just seeing this, so zero pressure! but if you're still interested in the 100 ways to say I love you...... either 6 or 89 mayhaps?

💕💕💕💕💕💕 hope you're having a nice day so far!

89. “We can look out for each other."

RORY MY BELOVED 🥰 i hope you like this 🤲

The day they packed up their freshman dorm, Sokka and Zuko sat cross-legged next to each other on Sokka’s sheet-stripped mattress, their knees overlapping. After hardly speaking all morning, Zuko asked him, “How do you feel when you’re away?”

“Away from here?” Sokka clarified, and Zuko nodded.

“Do you ever get lonely?” Zuko bit his lip as he gauged Sokka’s response.

“Sometimes,” Sokka replied, and tried to pick his next words with sensitivity. “I mean, there’s Katara, but she mostly does her own thing.” Sokka chose not to mention his dad. “But yeah, I spend a lot of time alone during breaks, and it kinda makes the days run together, you know?”

Zuko took in a deep inhalation and tilted his head thoughtfully, then said, “For me, it’s the opposite. I spend so much time alone that a day can feel like a week.” Zuko’s voice was quiet, his eyes melancholy. Sokka’s urge to comfort Zuko won over his fear of touching him.

Slowly, Sokka reached for Zuko’s hand, and Zuko flipped his palm upward so Sokka’s could fit easily in his. Their fingers intertwined, and Sokka caressed the back of Zuko’s hand with his thumb. “That was before you had me,” Sokka replied, and Zuko’s eyes finally peered into his.

“You won’t be there,” Zuko noted with an air of skepticism. With his unoccupied hand, Sokka grabbed his cellphone and held it up.

“You haven’t heard? There’s this newfangled invention called a phone—”

“I get it,” Zuko cut him off wearing a smile that didn’t last. He squeezed Sokka’s hand so lightly, Sokka wasn’t sure if he imagined it. “Would you really do that for me?” It was vulnerable and unsure, and Sokka yearned to tell Zuko he would do anything for him.

Instead he went with, “Who says it’s for you? If I don’t have someone to talk to I’ll spontaneously combust.” Sokka grinned when it earned a genuine laugh from Zuko.

Barely contained, Zuko asked, “Is that, like, a medical condition?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sokka replied, feigning graveness, “and it’s terminal, obviously.”

When their laughter fizzled out, Zuko stared longingly at their still-interlaced fingers. “I’m gonna miss you,” Zuko said above a whisper, then traced his unoccupied index finger along the tendons of Sokka’s hand.

Despite the protest of rising color in his cheeks, Sokka’s free hand tilted Zuko’s face upward. To golden eyes, Sokka said, “I’m gonna miss you, too.” Sokka's fingers paused along Zuko’s jaw before retreating to his side. Zuko allowed his lips a brief smile, then his eyes were gone again, this time staring at his lap. From where Sokka was sitting, they looked closed.

“How often can we talk?” Zuko asked bashfully, and Sokka pursed his lips, stifling a grin.

“Every day, if you want,” Sokka said, and his heart beat quicker at the thought.

“Are you sure?”

“Zuko,” Sokka asserted gently, causing their eyes to meet again. “Yes. I want to talk to you every day.” Sokka was careful not to sound irritated or teasing, but affirming and safe, what Zuko needed. “We can look out for each other.”Another gentle grip of Sokka’s fingers around Zuko’s, and Zuko was squeezing back.

“Okay,” he agreed, and Sokka noticed a little tension melt away from his shoulders.

“Okay,” Sokka repeated, and an ecstatic smile dared to spread across his face. He hid it as soon as he could, but he knew Zuko saw it, because he smiling back. “You can call me tomorrow, after you’re settled?” Sokka prompted, and Zuko’s nod was enthusiastic.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”