#(sleeves begin at around twice the base price)

[joel-millerr]

Facing The Past

Chapter Three of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.6K

Summary: You and Mando head to Nevarro for him to collect the bounty on your head, but of course things don’t go as planned...

Warnings: violence, a little bit of smut, ANGST (as per usual), let me know if there's anything I missed 

A/N: (its also my first time writing any smut so hopefully it’s *okay*)

Nevarro is…gloomy—definitely not the type of planet you’d willingly visit. All you could see up until the horizon are plains of rock, cracks filled with lava, and steam emitting from the slits in the ground. Not even the sun shining down on you can improve the landscape. It’s muggy, and dark. In hindsight, it’s the perfect place for a bounty hunter base; the occupation compliments the wasteland that is this planet.

You don’t mean to be overly critical of bounty hunters, but they are to blame for imprisoning so many of your crew that your anger clouds any rational and unbiased opinion about this planet.

Mando lands the Crest just outside the walls of the city. The town itself looks terribly small, but doesn’t seem like a totalshithole. Other than Nevarro being the central location for the Bounty Hunters Guild, you don’t know much about the planet. Most of the spice running deals are made far away from here—for obvious reasons. Even you’re not reckless enough to step foot on a planet where most of the population wants to hunt you down for a price.

The last couple of days have been…awkward to say the least. Ever since your ‘incident’ on Sorgan, Mando’s barely said two words to you. Maybe he’s angry at you, maybe he’s scared of you—you can’t be sure, but he’s been distant. He no longer stands close to you, or engages in small conversation like he did back on Sorgan, and when he does, he doesn’t even look at you. His helmet stays peeled to whatever it is he was doing before you addressed him. It’s incredibly frustrating. You want to explain, you want to reassure that you would never think of doing that to him or the Child, but you yourself can’t even be sure of that. It feels completely out of your control, so how could you even attempt to reassure him that it couldn’t happen? You’re basically a simmering pot, and every day the water gets closer to the brim, and could bubble over at any minute.

And if you’re being honest, deep down you’re a little relieved that soon you’ll be in custody. You won’t be able to cause any more harm, even if some of them deserve it.

You’ve been living in the cockpit since you left Sorgan, spending most of your time sitting in the chair going over and analyzing every single moment from that night. There was obvious anger inside of you, and rightfully so considering that man had tried to kill you twice, but there was also a…voice. It was a whisper, like something deep in your subconscious, forcing you to do its bidding. It told you to make him suffer, to make him bleed, and the voice was happy to see the hunter in pain. Clouding every rational thought in your mind, it was like being trapped inside your own body. Screaming to break through, you were a helpless passenger watching your body commit this atrocity. You’ve never been malicious, you thought yourself a caring person. Someone who wouldn’t inflict harm just for the sake of revenge, but now you’re not sure who you are anymore.

Who are you? Are you a mechanic? Are you a spice smuggler? Are you a monster? There are voices at odds inside of you. They fight for dominance, they beg you to choose who you wish to be, and for the first time in forever, you’re scared of who you are becoming. You’re not who you thought you were, you’re not who Tye believed you to be, or who your parents raised you as. Are you this dangerous criminal that the fucking Republic paints you as?

“We’re here.” Mando’s baritone comes out strained. He lingers in the doorway of the cockpit for a few seconds then descends the ladder, not bothering to wait for you to catch up.

“Okay.” Your leg bounces off the floor, and you’re biting down on your lip so hard, you’ll probably leave a permanent mark. Eyes looking dead ahead, the Nevarro horizon looking back at you, you wonder if you’d still be in this situation if your parents were still alive. Would you have still rebelled and turned to a life of constant running? Would you have stayed on Tatooine, leaving no mark for the galaxy to remember you by? Would you still have met Mando somehow?

Using your heels to push you to your feet, you take one last look at the cockpit and then head down the ladder. The ramp is open, and you catch Mando waiting for you at the top of it. The Child rests in his arm, tiny hand latched onto his gloved index finger.

As you both descend down the ramp, there’s a man standing ahead of you, just in front of the archway entrance to the city. From the kept white beard that rests on his cheeks and chin, you assume he’s middle aged. There’s a black cloak wrapped around his body, fastened around his clavicle are two golden clasps attached to a chain which are only worn by magistrates. Mando has some powerful friends, you think to yourself.

“Ah, Mando!” The man exclaims gleefully, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Karga.” Mando acknowledges, his voice keeping low.

“How are you, my friend?”

“Alive.” There’s a hint of jest in Mando’s tone.

The man laughs loudly. “When did you become such a comedian?” A big hand clasps down on his beskar pauldron. The Child in Mando’s hand coos and catches Karga’s attention.

“And how are you, little one?” He reaches out to hold the green gremlin and the bounty hunter allows it, gently handing him over to Karga.

“Alright Mando,” The man begins to say, “Let’s get this over with.” He turns on his heel, the baby still in his arms and takes two steps before shouting over his shoulder, “The quarry can stay here. They’ll be here soon enough to collect the bounties.”

Mando doesn’t exactly look at you, but the helmet does tilt in your direction. He’s just a foot ahead of you and you swear you see his shoulders slouch for a second, like he’s having second thoughts. It’s dumb, you shouldn’t be thinking of something so foolish. He had a job to do, and now he’s done it. You’ll both go your separate ways and never see each other again. That’s how this is supposed to go. That’s how this was going to end ever since he captured you.

Two collectors stand nearby, waiting for Karga to give them the order. As he and Mando pass through the arches, the collectors make their way to you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, refusing to show any weakness or sadness and with as much gusto as you can muster, you call out “Well, it was nice knowing ya, Mando.”

How stupid of you to think you could possibly mean anything more to him than a fucking quarry. He never gave you any indication that he even liked you. He merely tolerated your presence because you were useful. It was nothing more than a transaction between you both, and you could kick yourself for even letting these thoughts roam free in your mind. Forget Mando, forget the kid, forget every fucking person in this world who’s hurt you or left you. When this first started, you wanted Mando to get his credits because you liked him, but now with the ice-hot anger brewing inside of you, you don’t care anymore.

The two collectors—Rodians you infer as they get closer to you, approach the Crest, one of them heading up the ramp into Mando’s ship to collect the quarries in carbonite, the other staying by your side, probably anticipating that you’ll try to make a break for it although realistically, there isn’t a single place you could run to. You would either have to run into the city and try to hide or run for the hills. Neither option sounds tempting enough, given the fact that Mando would be on your ass in seconds.

Three carbonite chambers float down the ship, and the collector gives the one by your side a nod of acknowledgement. Your eyebrows pull together as you examine the subtle exchange between both men. The stranger next to you binds your wrists and shoots you a smile that’s anything but kind. The corner of his lip curls into a sinister grin, one that shoots panic up and down your spine. In the corner of your eye, you make out the silhouette of nearby ship. Was that always there?

Wait, shouldn’t there be more than just two members securing the quarries? This doesn’t make any sense. Why aren’t there more people here? Why is no one else here?

“Let’s go,” One of them orders. The first one makes a beeline for the ship, leaving behind the quarries from the Crest. Why would Guild members leave behind quarries?

Something’s not right. Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline beginning to pump through your veins, and the urge to fight is starting to prick at every nerve ending in your body. These guys can’t Guild members. Somehow, they’ve fooled everyone.

They urge you forward to the ship in the distance and you plant your feet firmly into the ground. If they manage to get you on that ship, you’re done for. You need to struggle as much as you can and pray to the Maker that someone will realize this whole thing is a set up.  

“Where are you taking me?” Trying to suppress the alarm in your voice, it comes out choked and feeble. A large hand grips your bicep and makes you whimper, their dexterous fingers digging into the thin material of your sleeve. You jerk back, trying to wriggle out of their hold, but it only causes them to tighten the grip around your bicep, pain now shooting up and down your arm.

“Fucking let me go!” You shout, hoping someone—Mando, will hear you, but no one can hear you.

“Oh, shut up!” The Rodian ahead of you shouts before swiftly turning on his heel and stalking towards you. His large fist winds up and slams into your stomach, knocking you completely off balance. If it wasn’t for the other one holding you upright, you would have fallen flat on your back. Nonetheless, you crouch over, wincing at the pain in your abdomen. The men laugh together ruefully, sheer enjoyment displayed on their faces.

“The boss is going to love playing with you,” One of them taunts, leaning down towards you and grabbing hold of your chin so that he can look you in the eyes.

“Fuck you,” You spit out through ragged breaths.

“Why, you little bitch.” A hand comes flying at your face and you brace yourself for the pain, sewing your eyes shut. His green backhand connects with the softness of your cheek with so much force that your head snaps to the side, following the movement of his hand. Your cheek throbs, ripples of pain so intense you feel tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

The wrath inside you is screaming and clawing at your insides. The whisper in your head commands you to cause them pain. It craves the cries of their sufferings, to see the life drain from their eyes. You’re trying to fight it; you don’t want to let that fucking voice win, but the searing agony from their blows feed the darkness that roars deep within you. You can feel your control slipping, fingers twitching against your will as your attackers try to haul you into their ship.

A beam of red light narrowly misses you, and one of your assailants drops to the floor with a loud thud. Your eyes bounce around you, trying to locate the source of the blast, when you catch the silhouette of shiny beskar running straight for you. There’s no hiding the joy and relief that is so evident on your face. He came back. Somehow, he came back for you.

You can feel the man still holding you start to panic. His body tenses, and he begins frantically pulling you into the ship, but now that you know you’re one-on-one, you waste no time fighting back. Gathering as much force as you can and flailing your bound arms around, his body turns towards you, and straightaway your leg lifts off the ground, slamming your knee right in his crotch. The man yelps in pain, hunching over involuntarily. You use this opportunity to connect your knee with his stomach with so much vigor, his body flies backwards, hitting the ground hard. As you lean over his body, he starts begging and pleading for his life.

“Please, please I was just doing it for the money!” He finally chokes out, his voice filled with pure terror as his hands come up in surrender. That evilness in your mind urges you to make his final moments hurt, to show no mercy for the man who would have certainly not shown you mercy. Shaking your head violently in an effort to cast out the mysterious voice, you wrench your eyes shut.

No.

You hear distance footsteps getting louder and louder, and then stop altogether. Tilting your head ever so slightly to the right, you can see his boots in the corner of your eye. Mando’s testing you. He wants to know if you’ll pull the same stunt you did back on Sorgan. As the man at your feet continues to plead for his life, the vulnerability and desperation in his voice pulls you out of whatever trance you were in.

This man is no different than you. He was given orders, and did what he thought was necessary in order to complete the contract. You can sympathize with that. There are so many things you’ve done in your time as a smuggler—things that have made you question your morals, and how far you’re willing to go to get the job done. Things you’re not proud of, things you now regret. At the end of the day, you’re both just pawns in a much bigger fight, and although you’ve both decided a path with little room for ethics, an unnecessarily harsh death is one you won’t inflict upon him.

You take a deep breath, inhaling in as much air in your lungs as possible, it almost burns them. Squaring your shoulders, you take a step back away from your assailant. That’s all the permission Mando needs, and his pistol comes up and sends a red beam of light right into the man’s chest, silencing him.

“We need to go. There will be more soon.” Mando warns, as he leans down and grabs the key from the dead man’s corpse to unbind your wrists. Your head bobs in acknowledgement, and then you’re both heading for the Crest. Karga’s waiting by the ramp of the ship, holding the Child in his arms. As soon as the little green baby spots you, he tries desperately to wiggle out of Karga’s grip, tiny arms reaching out for you. Mando takes the Child from his friend’s arms and gives him to you. Giant eyes peer up to look at you and the baby coos. Your lips curl up into a smile, taking two fingers to gently rub his ear.

“I had no idea the Empire was after her,” Karga says to Mando sincerely. The man’s gaze then turns to you. “I’m sorry. I should have known something was off about the deal.”

Shaking your head, you offer him a smile. “It’s fine.”

“You two should leave. It’s only a matter of time before someone else comes for them.” Them? Are they after the kid, too?

“Yes.” Mando answers matter-of-factly.

Karga nods, and a big hand comes out to shake Mando’s. “Safe travels, Mando.”

His gaze flicks towards you for a second and you offer him another smile and tip of the head before turning around and heading up the ramp to the Crest. You head straight for the cockpit, placing the child in the seat adjacent to yours and strapping him in. Mando comes in right after you, planting himself down in the pilot’s chair. The ships thrusters roar to life and you take off, the Nevarro landscape disappearing the higher your climb into the air.

Now that you actually have time to process what the fuck just happened; the reality of your situation hits you. It’s not the Republic that’s after you, it’s the Empire. The Empire you thought was defeated five years ago. The Empire that that killed thousands, if not millions of people.

Why? Why you? What could possibly be so special about you that the Empire has a fucking bounty on you? Wait, Karga had said ‘them’. Does that mean you and the Child? What could you and the Child possibly have in common that the Empire wants the two of you? Your mind recollects the moment you two shared on Sorgan—where he seemed to communicate something to you but that’s hardly enough of a connection, right? There’s just no way. You’re nothing but a petty smuggler. You haven’t lived a life worthy of being wanted by the fucking Empire. You had a normal childhood, and then went on to smuggling spice. That’s it. There’s literally nothing fucking exceptional about you.

Mando punches in some coordinates and activates the hyperdrive. The gentle hum of hyperspace fills the tension in the cockpit. Neither you nor Mando know what to say. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you start to question whether or not it’s a good idea that you’re even flying with them. If what Karga said is true, and the Empire is hunting you and the kid, surely having the two of you together is too risky. Realistically, you should split off. You should go your separate ways on whatever planet Mando’s set the coordinates for, in an effort to prolong the Imps’ search.

“Where are we going?” Your gentle voice cuts through the gentle purr of hyperspace.

“Tatooine. I have a friend there that owes me a favor.” His voice comes out slightly gruff through the modulator.

Your breath catches in your throat. You haven’t been back to Tatooine since your first smuggling run. After the job with Tye, you had made a decision to become a full-time runner, and vowed never come back to the shithole that was Tatooine, not while there was an infinite amount of galaxy out there that you hadn’t seen yet, leaving your old life and self to rot on that planet. There were too many hurtful memories, too much pain.

A small coo emits from the baby and you look over and see him slouching in his seat, big eyes blinking slowly. The poor thing must be exhausted. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you reach over and wrap him in your arms. He nestles in your lap, letting the sleepiness overcome his little body. At first you consider laying him in his pram and letting him sleep in there, but he’s already fast asleep in your arms before you can put him down, so you decide to let him rest where he is. The adrenaline and stress from the last couple of hours starts to take its toll on you. Exhaustion suddenly overwhelms you, the stiffness in your bones turns to fatigue, and you try to fight your eyelids from closing. You don’t want to fall asleep yet. You want to ask Mando why he came back for you, why he’s helping you, but your body succumbs to the exhaustion and you drift off to sleep, the last thing you hear is the stillness of hyperspace.

When you wake, the Child is no longer in your arms, and Mando isn’t in the pilot’s chair. Rising to your feet lazily, you drag them over to the control panel to check the status of your route, rubbing your eyes with your palm in order to steady your vision. You’ll be landing on Tatooine in less than an hour, which unfortunately only gives you a small finite amount of time to properly prepare yourself for the onslaught of memories that will smack you in the face once you land.

Maybe no one will remember you. Mos Eisley isn’t exactly the smallest city, meaning there’s chance that no one would even recognize you. All you need to do is avoid the cantinas and merchants you used to frequent back when you lived there and maybe, just maybe you could remain unseen.

Suddenly getting the feeling that someone’s watching you, you strain your neck while turning your head as much as it can, seeing the faintest hint of chrome in the corner of your eye. Turning your body towards the door, the sight of Mando takes you by surprise, and you can’t help but get startled by his sudden presence. You almost forgot how intimidating he actually looks. Even as he stands there doing nothing, there’s a certain level stoicism and command in the way he carries himself, the same way a man who’s a captain of a battalion would carry himself—robust, and proud, however also reserved. There’s no way to gauge what he’s thinking unless he deliberately tells you, and Mando doesn’t like to talk very much. It forces you to anticipate what he would think or how he would feel in every situation you’re both put in, wracking your brain and making it damn near impossible to keep up with him.

The shades of pale blue mixed with white reflect off his beskar armour. His visor is pointed at you, although you can’t be sure if he’s actually looking at you or through you. His stance is stiff which isn’t unusual but there’s a gentleness that radiates off of him. Your throat goes dry, and you’re sure you’re breaking skin from how hard you’re biting your lip. You haven’t had a proper moment alone together since that night on Sorgan, and neither of you spoke about what happened. There’s a lot of unanswered questions you need to discuss, but the thickness of the air around you is becoming overwhelming. You don’t say anything, and stay firmly planted where you stand. The Mandalorian mimics you, refusing to take a step forward. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage, heat coiling in your stomach and making it harder to ignore the wetness beginning to form in your panties. Refusing to show submission, your eyes stayed locked to the ‘T’ of his visor. His hands twitch at his sides, but shows no other kind of movement. He’s still as a fucking tree and somehow that only turns you on even more. He has to be feeling the same way you are right now. It can’t just be you this time.

Mando finally takes one step forward and your breathing hitches. Stars, if he comes any closer, you’re going to explode. You’ve never experienced this kind of tension before. Your body’s never felt so on fire and he hasn’t even touched you, but you desperately want him to. So you mimic his movements and take a step forward, testing him. It’s barely noticeable but somehow his back stiffens even more, chest pushing out faintly. The blood in your ears is deafening, your heart slamming so hard against your chest you feel like passing out.

“What are you doing?” The baritone pulling rough and breathy. Okay, so this is affecting him just as much as it is for you.

Your tongue glides against your bottom lip before biting down on it, hard. Curious to see how far you can push this, you don’t answer him and instead take another small step forward. By now you’re only a couple feet away from each other and the air of the cockpit is disgustingly thick with a need to fuck each other senseless right here and now. His hands ball up into fists and that lets you to know he’s fighting his primal desires. You think you hear short, distorted breaths emit from the helmet, but you’re too far away to be certain. Your panties are fucking soaked, your slick almost dripping down your thighs. It’s been too long since you’ve been fucked, and you need it, need Mando to bend you over the control panel and pound into you like a fucking animal.

It’s like he’s reading your mind, because he closes the gap between you two in a flash. He’s hovering over you, and despite the cool amour he wears, you can feel the heat radiating off him. Your nostrils fill with the smell of gunpowder, and his musk and it takes all your energy not to fucking whimper. Only Mando can get you this worked up when nothing’s even happened yet.

One of his brown leather-gloved hands comes up to touch your arm. If you thought your breathing was irregular before, well now you’re basically suffocating as his hand hovers your arm and you want to scream at him to touch you—beg him to do what you can’t bring yourself to do. Please, Mando.

Right as you feel a glove graze your arm, the ship jumps out of hyperspace, and in an instant your moment is over. His hand drops back to his side and you let out a deep breath of disappointment. Your shoulders slump, and your head drops, staring at the floor.  Instinctively, you slither out of his way so he can slip into the pilot’s chair.

The radio comes to life, static filling the cockpit before a female voice emanates from the speaker. “Razor Crest, this is Mos Eisley Tower. We’ve picked up your signal. Head for bay three-five, over.”  

“This is Razor Crest, locked in for three-five.” Mando answers coolly, as if two minutes ago there wasn’t an unbelievable amount of sexual tension between you two. You try to hide your annoyance at the fact that he can snap in and out of a moment so quickly. He’s seemed to have forgotten all about it unlike you who can’t seem to snap out of it. You reluctantly sit in your seat, shifting uncomfortably due to the stickiness of your underwear.

As you descend into Tatooine airspace, your nerves begin spiraling. Both your legs bounce off the ground, and your hands twiddle in your lap. If there’s one thing you fucking hate, it’s sand. Maker, you hate how the sand feels against your shoes, never giving you enough solid ground to walk properly. Constantly twisting your ankles because the sand concaved in certain areas. How it always fucking found its way into your shoes, your clothes, your hair. You could take four sonic showers and still feel fucking sand in places it should never be in. Then there was the absolutely incomprehensible fact that water was scarce here. A bare necessity for everyone to survive had to be farmed like vegetation. Curse the Maker for this planet. You’re not sure what planet you hated more, Kijimi or Tatooine.

Mando lands the Crest in the hangar the operator told him to, and your brows furrow looking at your surroundings. This hangar looks familiar. It’s not the one your parents owned, but you definitely recognize the random discarded parts scattered throughout the area. You hope you’re wrong, that Mando didn’t land in the only hangar that you’d know.

The Mandalorian rises from his seat and begins to make his way to the ladder. “Let’s go.” He calls out before climbing down the rungs. For a moment, you consider asking if you could stay in the ship the whole time you’re docked here, but it would be a ridiculous thing to ask. You’re an adult, and you have to confront your past, no matter how ugly it is. Reluctantly, you slide out of your seat and climb down the steps. The cubbyhole where Mando’s cot is located is shut, and you assume the Child was sleeping in there. He presses a button on his vambrace and the door slides open, the kid sits patiently at the door. Mando scoops up the Child, a tiny green hand immediately clutches onto one of Mando’s gloved fingers. The ramp opens slowly, and even from far away you instantly recognize the woman standing at the bottom of the ramp.

“Mando!” Peli exclaims, throwing her arms in the air and then resting them on her hips.

Peli fucking Motto. You’ve known her since you were a child. She was a difficult woman, to say the least. Not the most generous person—she only ever did someone a favor if there was something in it for her. You never personally worked for her, and there was a reason she only ever had droids as her workers. She was the type of woman who barked orders at everyone in her employment. What Peli lacked in size, she made up for in attitude.

Mando descends the ramp before you, your legs refusing to move. As soon as Peli catches sight of the baby, the tough exterior you’ve only ever seen disappears into a gentle, kinder demeanor. Mando hands her the baby and she wraps her arms around him, her hand gently caressing the little hairs on the Child’s head. The baby squeals in excitement. Her gaze leaves the baby to face Mando only for a moment, before locking her eyes with yours.

“Who’s your friend?” She asks him. Your face is covered by the shadows of the Crest, disguising your features. Holding your head up high and pushing your shoulders back, you walk down the ramp. Her face turns from curiosity to anger, fast. Eyebrows scrunching up and lips forming a tight line, she scoffs. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Hi, Peli.” Your voice dripping in sarcasm.

“What the hell are you doing back here?”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I had the choice.”

Peli eyes stay locked on yours. You know that saying, ‘if looks could kill’? You’re pretty sure you’d be dead right now if that were true.

“It’s a bad idea to get involved with this one, Mando.” She turns to look at the visor. “She’s always been trouble.”

This time you let out a laugh, hand coming to sit on your hip. “That’s such bullshit, Peli and you know it,” Using your free hand to point a finger at her, punching out your next jab at her. “You’re the difficult one.”

“That’s rich coming from the spice smuggler.” Her last words dripping like venom.

You bite down hard on your jaw, wanting to argue, but in this very rare case, she’s actually right. It’s just one of the many truths you’ll have to face being back here.

“Anyway,” She says before turning away from you to face the Mandalorian to her right. “What can I help you with, Mando?”

“The hyperdrive needs to be fixed, and I need to refuel.”

“I’m surprised this one hasn’t offered her services.” Peli shoots you a glare.

“I did fix it but—” You begin to say but Mando cuts you off before you can finish.

“We were stranded, and it was only partially fixed. If I’m to make it to the next destination, I need to be at above 70%.”

“Sure thing, boss. We can get that fixed.” She shifts her weight to walk away from you both, but before she can call her droids, you call out to her. “There’s a problem.”

She turns her torso just enough to look in your direction, “With you? Why am I not surprised?” Rolling her eyes, she continues to stare you down.

“Look Peli, if you have something to say,” You taunt, taking a step towards her. “Then say it.”

Challenging you, she steps towards you as well. The Child in her arm fusses worriedly, and you almost back down from the confrontation when you realize this might be scaring the little guy. “Oh, I got a lot to say, kid.”

“That’s enough.” Mando orders. As reason comes back to you and somewhat clears your mind, it’s probably not a good idea to start a fight with the only person that can fix his ship and potentially get you off this planet, so you back off and step back.

“The Empire is after her,” Mando starts to explain. Peli shoots you another stare and rolls her eyes again. “We fought them off on Nevarro, but we don’t know how much time we’ll have until they come back.”

Despite her very obvious resentment towards you, she nods and forces a smile—not very comforting, but it’s enough to put you both at ease. “Don’t worry, Mando. I’ll have her ready as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.”

You continue to stare at Peli with daggers in your eyes. There’s a lot of undealt with animosity between you both, but you’re not sure you’ll have time to settle it. “We’re gonna go try and find a lead. Maybe someone here will know why she’s wanted. Can you watch the Child in the meantime?” He asks.

“Can I? Mando, this little guy is the only reason I let you in my hangar. This little womp rat has found a way into ol’ Peli’s heart.” She says affectionately, looking down at the baby and blabbing some nonsense. The kid responds by giggling and using his little arms to reach out and touch the finger that wiggles in front of him.

“Didn’t know you had a heart,” You whisper under your breath. Peli doesn’t seem to hear you, but Mando does because you hear a sigh comes from the vocoder. “That’s enough.” He orders, just loud enough for you to hear him.

Even though it’s been five, almost six years since you’ve been here, everything still looks the same. The whole city is devoid of color, just various shades of beige and whites as far as the eye could see. Every single home and every cantina stand like monuments made of fucking sand, showing no detail or artistry in their structure. It’s like every piece of culture from around the galaxy comes to Mos Eisley and dies, leaving only taupe boringness behind. It’s possible you’re being too harsh on the city, but you were born here so you have the right to be a bitch about it.

You never thought you’d be back here, breathing in the fucking dry, gritty filled air you grew up breathing in. It’s as stuffy and suffocating as you remember it, maybe even worse than you remember it. As the sun blazes down on you and Mando, you can admit there is one thing you actually do like about Tatooine. The sun was always out, always scorching hot and always beaming down on your skin, leaving a beautiful golden tint to your complexion. You could stay out all day and never develop a burn; your body was so used to the heat. Now, you wonder if that’s changed. Rolling up the sleeves of your tunic up to your elbow, the sun instantly pricks at your skin. The heat feels like a giant hug, caressing your untouched skin. Okay, maybe there was one thing you missed about Tatooine.

You both walk cautiously around the city looking for a cantina in the hopes of finding someone who might know what Empire wanted from you, but also keeping an eye out for possible threats. He treads a couple feet ahead of you, but you don’t mind. So far, you haven’t really recognized anyone, and no one’s seemed to recognize you. Just a couple more days and you can put this all behind you. There are plenty of vendors out, selling everything from fabric for clothing to food from other planets, to parts for ships. People from various walks of life mingle throughout the city. A few vendors away, you see a couple of Jawas trying to bargain for some old, outdated ship parts. The Jawas were always on the hunt for miscellaneous scrap metal parts, as well as other junk. To each their own, you guess. You’ve had a couple dealings with Jawas. They were sneaky, and smart despite their appearance. You had always tried to avoid making transactions with them if at all possible.

On your right, you see an older gentleman selling some garments, and the realization pops into your head that you do need new clothes. Since you weren’t planning on all of this happening, the only clothes you have are the ones on your back, and the ones you accidentally left behind on Sorgan. You’re in desperate need for new clothes.

“I’ll be right back,” You tell Mando before making a beeline for the old man’s stand. You don’t wait for Mando to acknowledge you.

“Hi there, traveler.” The man greets, using a cane to rise to his feet from the stool he was sitting on beforehand.

You offer him the same genuine smile he shows to you before letting your hands touch and feel the various assortment of garments placed before you on the table. “These are beautiful.” You remark.

“Thank you. My wife’s the one who sews them. She does all the work. I just sell them afterwards,” He humbly admits. Your eyes stay peeled to the numerous amount of attires on display in front of you, but still keeping that smile on your face. “Oh, hi sir. Can I interest you in anything?” He says, a mix of shock and kindness in his tone. You look up and notice Mando by your side.

“Nothing for me, thank you.” He says politely.

You decide on some charcoal-colored trousers that has some pockets sewn in on each side of the thighs, along with a white short-sleeved tunic. The merchant also sells backpacks, so you also buy one of those to store your new clothes in until you can get back to the Crest. It’s only once you start digging in your pockets that you’re embarrassingly aware that you have no credits on you. Mando picks up on the sudden realization and pulls out credits of his own and hands them over to the old man.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back,” You try to reassure him.

“It’s fine,” Mando replies.

The man bows and thanks you both for your business, and you nod in return before continuing your walk through the city.

After a few more minutes of walking, Mando spots a cantina just a couple buildings away and of course it’s the onecantina you hoped not to visit. It’s the one place you and Tye would frequent when you both lived here, and the owner of the establishment knew you both by name. The both of you had visited that cantina on pretty much a daily basis, playing sabacc with other locals, and getting way too drunk.

As you get closer to the door of the cantina, you stop in your tracks, your feet becoming cement blocks. It doesn’t take Mando long to notice that you’re no longer walking behind him, so when he does, he turns his body to see where you are and heads for you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Isn’t there another cantina we can check out?”

A sigh exists the helmet and big gloved hands come to rest on his hips. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like maybe there’s another cantina we can visit.”

“Why would we do that when there’s one right here?” His tone becomes faintly more irritated, probably because you’re wasting valuable time trying to run away from your past.

Your mouth opens to justify your apprehension, but there isn’t a single justifiable reason not to head into the cantina. Mouth forming a thin line, you shrug and start for the tavern.

The cantina is loud, all kinds of walks of life are gathered inside mingling. You stop just at the top of the stairs and begin scanning the area, looking for a quiet table you both can sit at. Mando clearly has other ideas because he doesn’t even bother to look around before heading straight for the bar. “Mando—” You call out, but he’s too far ahead to hear you, and the noise from the patrons inside drowns out your voice. The noise that escapes your lips is definitely full of annoyance, but there’s no telling Mando what to do. You follow suit, and stand a couple feet away from him, your back turned to his as you continue to look out for anyone you might know.

You can��t hear the exchange between the bartender and Mando, but by his posture, you guess he doesn’t receive any good news. Form what you can make out through the noise of the cantina, the droid behind the bar informs Mando that no one from the Empire has stepped foot in Mos Eisley in weeks, so the likelihood of anyone knowing anything is slim to none.

“Let’s go. There’s nothing here.” Mando’s voice cuts through the vocoder. You nod and head for the exit. One cantina down, only…too many more left.

Once back in the heat, you both continue to make your way through the city, taking random turns down streets less populated than the main path. You’re still being cautious over being seen by either someone from your past or someone looking to collect your bounty, but you’re much more relaxed now. Being back gives you a sense of familiarity and there’s a slight twinge of nostalgia that reminds you of your childhood. Every street you pass, every building you take notice of—it’s all things you’ve seen before. You can remember running down this exact street with Tye due to a game of tag. A couple streets away there was a food stand that sold the most amazing magenta colored fruit you had ever tasted in your life. It was a rare treat that only came in once every season, but it was so worth it. The fruit was sweet, and so full of juices that whenever you ate it, its nectars would trinkle down your chin and onto your tunic. Your mother always scolded you for eating without being careful, but it never stopped you from dirtying your shirt anyways. As you pass by where the stand used to be, all you see is an abandoned kiosk. Of course, it’s no longer there.

The sun’s beginning to set now, turning the sky into mixture of pastel pinks, blues, and purples that swirl around like an abstract painting. The streets are also starting to become less crowded; vendors are starting to pack up their stands for the day, and most of the locals are gathering in the cantinas for a night of gambling and drinking. You’re not sure when you began trailing behind Mando, but you follow him as he makes his way through the roads. Your arms are crossed against your body, the mental exhaustion of the day is starting to take its toll on your body.

He spots another cantina on the way back to the ship. There’s an unspoken conversation that occurs between you both. He tilts the helmet in the direction of the cantina, and your your shoulder lifts in the air in response. He walks in first then waits for you. When you’ve caught up to him, out of habit you take in your surroundings and take a scan of the room.

He crouches down and whispers in your ear. “Find us a booth. I’ll be there shortly.” The baritone of his voice cutting right through you and hitting a part of you inside that hasn’t been touched in ages. You can’t control the way your body reacts when he’s that close to you—the hairs on your arms standing up, the small shudder that went traveled from your spine down to between your thighs. You’re instantly reminded of the moment you two shared back in the cockpit of the Crest. You’re not sure if you’ll ever get to have another moment like that again, but you’ll live in that moment for as long as you possibly can if that’s all you’ll ever have.

There’s an empty booth at the back of the cantina so naturally that’s the booth you break for. Once you’re seated, you catch Mando talking to the droid behind the bar. A lot of the patrons inside are eyeing the Mandalorian, and you’d be lying if there wasn’t a dash of pride that hits you. Seeing a Mandalorian is rare enough as it is, so seeing a Mandalorian enter a cantina with someone else who’s not Mandalorian? You’re sure this is the first time anyone in here has seen either.

It’s hard not to stare at him. You have no idea what he looks like underneath that helmet, and there’s not even a part of you that cares. It’s all in his body language. You thought of him as a heartless hunter, a man made of beskar—inside and out, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He has the kid and cares deeply for him. Mando portrays himself as a warrior, a strong, stoic man who abides by rules and discipline, but he went back for the Child. He came back for you. It’s true, he doesn’t talk much, doesn’t divulge in talking about his past or about his Creed, but there’s a softness to him, a gentleness that you know not many people have seen, and somehow you’ve been lucky enough to see it.

“Care for some company, baby?”

Your gaze shifts from Mando to the foul man standing to your right. His breath reeks of alcohol, and he can barely keep himself upright without swaying in every direction. He’s holding two empty glasses in one hand and a bottle of liquid in the other.

Your eyebrows pull together, and you can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the smell of him. “No, thanks.” You reply politely. However, there is a stern tone to your voice.

“Oh, come on,” The man stumbles even though he hasn’t even moved. He loses balance and falls into the booth, now just a couple feet away from where you’re sitting. “What’s a gal like you sitting all by yourself on a fine night like tonight, hmmm?”

His hand reaches out to touch your hand, but your reflexes are much faster than his. You grab onto his wrist before it can get too close to you, and you apply pressure on the grip. His face scrunches up, and you know he’s feeling the firmness of your control. “I said no. Now, back off.”

Your hold slacks and you let go, pushing his arm and hearing it land on the table. Sliding out of the booth, you head straight for Mando who’s still standing at the bar. Before you can call out for him, you feel a large hand come down on your bicep and whip you around.

“We just want to show you a good time, bitch.” Another man bellows. You figure he’s with the creep that’s still sitting in your booth. Your body reacts before your mind can process what’s happening. Your hand balls into a fist, reaching far back to gain as much momentum as possible, then comes slamming into the man’s nose. Bone cracks and you can’t believe you just broke that fucker’s nose. He wails in pain, his hands flying to cover his face. Blood is pooling down his hands and onto the floor. Stars, you didn’t know you could hit that hard.

“I’ll kill you, you fucking bitch!” Someone else shouts and they’re running for you, pushing down others in their path. You prepare to fight but a gloved hand grabs your wrist before you can do any more damage. Mando blocks your entire body with his, and the attacker running stops dead in his tracks, almost tripping on his own feet with pure terror in his eyes. Mando doesn’t even have to do anything before all three men are apologizing profusely and retreating as fast as they came down on you. Everyone knows it’s a fool’s errand to pick a fight with a Mandalorian. They’re not called the greatest warriors in the galaxy for no reason.

“We should head back to the ship before we cause any more trouble,” Your voice is lighthearted, but Mando doesn’t respond. Taking his silence as a ‘yes’, you turn on your heel and make your way out of the cantina and onto the street. Walking out of there and feeling the warm breeze against your hot skin feels amazing. The adrenaline is still pumping through your veins and all the tiredness from your body is momentarily wiped away.

Mando finally appears behind you, and you take the lead on the way back to the ship while he continues to stroll behind you. Nightfall had arrived on Mos Eisley, and the only light that’s given are the dimly lit lanterns posted every few metres along the streets. Unless you’re a frequent visitor or a local, one could easily get lost at night. You on the other hand could make your way through the city with your eyes closed.

You don’t have time to process it, but you’re being pulled into an alley. Mando’s grip on your arm is firm, but he makes sure not to hurt you. There’s only one lantern in the backstreet, and you can barely see anything in front of you. He continues to pull you further and further into the alley until you’re sure no one would see either of you even if you were just three feet in front of you.

When he finally lets go of your arm, he’s standing in front of you at arm’s length. You can make out his silhouette only because the moon’s glow reflects off the beskar he’s wearing. Your eyes flicker up and down his body, trying to gauge why he’s doing this, but he gives you absolutely no indication.

“Uh, what are we doing here, Mando?”

“Take the bag off,” He orders, his voice scratching at a dangerously low register. Sliding your arms out of the straps, the bag drops to the floor.

You’re not scared of him, you know he wouldn’t hurt you, but you’re definitely cautious, and you can’t help the fight or flight instinct that’s overcoming you. Ever so slowly, he stalks towards you. Out of impulse, you take a step back and another and another and another until your back hits the wall behind you. Heart thumping in your chest, and your mouth drier than the fucking Tatooine sand dunes, desire pooling in your stomach. His broad chest encircles you. The cuirass grazes against your chest and you can feel the cool beskar against your burning skin. You want to reach out and touch him, but you don’t know where so instead you keep your hands by your thighs, your pussy throbbing so much it hurts. You don’t know what the fuck is happening, but you want more. You need more. The moment in the cockpit doesn’t hold a candle to this. This is something else—needy, desperate.

Mando’s breathing is uneven, that’s about the only thing you can make out. The vocoder distorts his breaths, making them scratchy and rough. Your chest is heaving with how unsteady your own breathing is. You’ve never been this turned on by someone who hasn’t even touched you.

“Fuck,” Mando murmurs, the baritone of his voice dangerously low. Both arms come up and he rests his palms on the wall behind you, fully boxing you in. Your throat is so dry, it feels like its suffocating you. Quick, shaky breaths escape your lips, and Mando is so fucking close to you, you can see the condensation emerging on his helmet from your pants.

“Tell me stop,” He’s basically growing now, the heat between you two becoming too much. It’s desperate, like he’s unable to control himself so he’s asking you to. It might be nightfall, but you’re still out in public, and despite the fact that you both could be caught any second now, it somehow spurs you both on. The thrill and risk of being this intimate frightens and fucking excites you.

Maker, you want it. You’ve wanted him since the moment you laid eyes on him back on Kijimi. Ever since then you’ve been fighting your attraction to him. Mando didn’t seem like the type to fuck quarries then turn them in, so you had made the conclusion that nothing could ever happen between you two. That quickly changed when you were alone in the cockpit. You had felt the shift in your relationship. No longer were you the only one struggling to bottle up the sexual tension that clearly presented itself whenever you were together. He was just as needy as you were.

“I—” You try to speak, but with the blood pounding in your ears, your mind is going blank. You can’t even force a coherent sentence, the heat is so fucking intense, you’re drowning in it.

A leather glove brushes the loose strands of hair out of your face and tucks them behind your ear. You lean into the touch, closing your eyes and letting a moan escape your lips. It’s such a simple gesture, but because Mando—a man who can kill with his bare hands is the one doing it, makes it so comforting.

Since words aren’t coming to your mind, you resort to using your body to communicate. Your hands are still trembling at your sides but you muster as much strength as you can and grab Mando’s hips, pulling them towards you until his body clashes with yours. His cock is rock hard in his pants, and instinctively, you spread your legs so he can slide one of his own between yours, moaning gently at the feeling of his bulge against your pussy.

“Stars…” He mutters, one arm still planted next to your head and the other coming down to your hip and digging his glove into the material of your pants. The helmet comes right up to your ear now, “Do you want me to fuck you in this alley?” It’s dirty, his voice hitting that sweet spot inside of you that nearly has you combusting on the spot. “Someone might see us.” He’s fucking taunting you and whether or not he actually does want you to push him away, there’s a mutual understanding that that won’t be happening.

The corners of your lips curl into a sly smile. You’re not scared to make a scene, to give some passerby a filthy show. Your next words come out slow, savoring every single moment you can right now. “Then let’s give them a good show.”

The noise that comes through the helmet is animalistic, somewhere between a mewl and a fucking growl. Grabbing both your hips, he flips you around so you’re facing the wall, you palms come flying up to stop yourself from smacking face first into it. With one hand still on your hip, he uses his other hand to hold your stomach and pull you closer to him, your back arching and bending over slightly, his cock lining up perfectly along your backside. A moan slips from your lips and that just spurs him off. The hand on your stomach trails down, cupping your sex over your pants. Maker, you can feel your slick dripping down your thigh from how much this is turning you on. Distant voices pass you by, but you don’t care. Nothing else matters right now, not when Mando is holding you like this, touching you the way you thought was only possible in your daydreams.

The grip on your hip slackens, lifting your tunic just enough to expose soft skin underneath then wrapping his arm around your torso to keep you glued to him. A thumb plays with the waistband of your pants, a delicious taunt that only makes you whine with anticipation.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Mando snarls in your ear. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, the metal digging into your neck and cheek. It’s a little uncomfortable but you’re too entranced to care about anything else other than him touching you wherever he wants. You moan helplessly against him but his hand doesn’t move, just continues to graze the exposed skin near your waistband. He’s relentless, continuing his slow assault, waiting for you to find the words to speak.

“Please…” You choke out.

“Please, what?” He sneers gingerly. “You need to use your words.”

It comes as a shock just how submissive you are. You’ve always considered yourself a dominant when it came to others, but somehow Mando’s completely flipped the script on you. You aren’t in control, you can barely throw two words together without needing to catch your breath, but you’d be lying if this wasn’t the most turned on you’ve ever been in your life.

“Yes…please touch me,” You cry out, shifting your hips so you can feel his cock against your behind.

“Good girl,” He praises before dipping his hand down inside your trousers and cupping your sex. He gathers your slick around his gloved fingers and begins rubbing circles over your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” Letting out a satisfied moan, the baritone of his voice pierces through you, your pussy gushing at the sound. You moan so loudly you’re positive anyone nearby could hear you.

“Shhh,” Mando whispers into your ear as the pressure on your clit become more intense. Your body is on fire, the heat in your belly driving you to climax as his fingers continue their assault on your pussy.

There’s a faint sound of static, but you try to push it out of your memory. You don’t want him to stop, not when you’re on the verge of orgasm.

“…Mando? Mando, are you there?” A female voice pokes through the commlink on Mando’s vambrace. His movements still and an irritated sigh scratches through his helmet before he pulls his hand from your trousers, then taking a couple steps back so you can turn around to face him, leaning back into the wall awkwardly. Lifting an arm to the helmet, he presses one of the buttons on his forearm.  

“Yes, Peli?” His voice is surprisingly steady, considering two seconds ago he was fucking your pussy with his hand.

“Uh… The kid is having some kind of breakdown,” The radio causes her voice to come out rough, and you can hear a little bit of a disturbance in the background. “I think he misses you and his way of telling me that to tear my hangar apart!”

“We’re on our way,” He says into his wrist, not bothering to wait for her response and heading back for the main road.

You continue to lean against the wall for a couple of seconds, trying to process how this all happened so quickly. One minute you were walking back to the Crest with Mando, then he was pulling you into an alley for what you thought was going to be the best sex of your life, and now he’s already heading back to the ship like nothing even happened.

When Mando looks over his shoulder and realizes you’re not walking behind him, he stops and waits for you. “Are you coming?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“I wish,” You mumble to yourself before kicking off the wall behind you to stand up straight. Bending over to grab the straps of your bag and throwing it over your shoulders, your feet drag as you walk, letting disappointment engulf you. This was not how you wanted the night to end.

And the walk back is…a little awkward. Neither of you speak, but you continue to walk side by side. Your arms are crossed against your chest, and you keep your eyes peeled to the ground. Every now and then, you peak upwards to get a glimpse of Mando who’s walking on your left, but his visor stays glued to what’s in front of him—his head never once turning to look down at you. It’s infuriating, really. You’re sulking, maybe even acting a little childish, but it had been weeks since you’ve been touched by another person and the one night Mando finally decides to make a move, you get rudely interrupted. Not to mention your panties are fucking soaked and the walk back is only making you more uncomfortable. Your eyes shift to Mando’s right hand and a shrewd smile smears onto your face. Your slick is on Mando gloves. That realization is enough to turn you on. Hopefully whatever the kid is up to won’t take too much time to sort out, and then maybe you two can finish your little encounter in the alley.

When you reach the hangar, you don’t see anything out of place. To be fair, Peli’s hangar is always a mess so to you, it all seems normal. Peli stands at the foot of the ramp, looking a little rougher than usual. There are specks of grease on her skin, and her curly hair sticks out in all kinds of directions.

“What the hell have you been feeding this kid since the last time I saw you?” She challenges, storming towards you both.

“I don’t…” Mando begins to say, but Peli interrupts, a hand shooting up before he can finish his sentence. “The kid was full of energy, and I mean full. He messed with my droids, did this weird little hand thing and my bolts started floating in the air!” Her arms waving around as she tells the story. “Floating! Did you know he could do that?”

Mando shifts his weight to one leg, both his hands resting on his utility belt. “Yes.”

Peli scoffs. “Well, a heads up would have been nice.”

“Where is he now?” Your tone comes out more aggressive than you intended, but given the circumstances of your relationship, you don’t believe niceties are essential.

Peli scowls at you, before turning her attention to Mando and answering the question. “I was somehow able to put him to bed while we waited for you. He’s in the ship.” Her hand coming up to point behind her towards the hull of the Crest. Mando places a hand on her shoulder—not the same one he used on you thank the maker, and thanks her sincerely. He explains to her that you were both unable to find any leads but will try again tomorrow.

He climbs the ramp to check on the kid, and you follow suit, but not before shooting giving Peli one last look, your eyes piercing into hers with invisible vibroblades. She returns the favor and turns on her heel, heading to her office.

Once inside the ship, your eyes feel unbearably heavy and the fatigue hits you all at once. In the last few days, you’ve probably only gotten eight hours of sleep—more like a series of power naps that could be considered eight hours when you bundle them all up, and now your bones ache, craving the sweet release that is rest—but first? You need a shower. To clean off all the dirt from the sand that’s passed through the air and onto your skin, and to clean up the mess that’s between your thighs.

Mando checks on the kid who is right where Peli said he was—in the cubbyhole they both sleep in. “Hey kid,” he says softly while lightly caressing the hammock he threw together for the kid to sleep in.

“I’m gonna freshen up,” You announce as you head for the fresher. Mando only tilts in your direction and tips the helmet down, giving you only the slightest indication that he understood you.

It’s a bit of a struggle to get undressed in the fresher. The space is just so kriffing small, it’s a wonder how Mando is able to do it. When all your clothes are off, you toss them behind you and angle your body underneath the hose. Cool water hits your tired skin and you recoil from the sudden freezing temperature. After a few seconds though, the water warms up into a delightfully warm hug, and your tense shoulders finally relax. The water pressure is a little harsher than what you’ve gotten used to, but it feels nice on your back. It feels like a massage, pushing down on your muscles, releasing the tautness that had built up throughout the day. Looking down at the drain, you notice a red hue to the water, and your brows pull together tightly, eyes scanning your body to see where the blood could be coming from. As you begin to inspect your hands, you notice three small gashes on your left hand where your knuckles are. Your memory flashes back to the cantina where you struck that man square in the nose. A chuckle echoes in the walls of the fresher as you remember the fear smeared on his face right before you connected your fist with his nose.

Water continues to cascade on your sun-kissed skin as you grab the bar of soap resting on the ledge and begin to scrub every inch of Mos Eisley grime off your frame. Naturally, your mind wanders—as one’s mind usually does while taking a shower. Closing your eyes, you imagine the fingers tracing your skin are big, leather gloved hands instead. Dancing across your chest, goosebumps forming under your skin as the touch shifts down between your breasts, to your stomach and rests in the middle of your thighs.

You shouldn’t—you really shouldn’t do this. Not when Mando is right outside the fresher, not when he would definitelyhear you if you got yourself to come, but then again maybe you should let him hear you. The image of him hearing you moan as you bring yourself to orgasm in his fresher, his ship is enough of an incentive for you to bring your hand up to your pussy and slowly dragging your fingers between your wet folds. It doesn’t take long before your fucking soaking, slick mixed with water. Fighting the whimpers that are caught in your throat, you bite down on your bottom lip, and lean against the metal wall to steady yourself as you fuck yourself to orgasm.

Even as the sound of water masks some of obscene noises you’re making, if Mando’s still somewhere nearby, he’ll hear you. Two fingers rub against your swollen clit, and you convince yourself they’re fingers covered in brown leather. The heat in your stomach coils, your orgasm bubbling to the surface. It feels so fucking wrong and it feels so fucking right. Thank the Maker for the wall keeping you upright because your knees are quaking, the flashes of pure ecstasy making it damn near impossible to keep yourself from crying out. You’re seeing stars, the sensation starting to become too intense, you’re on the verge of coming, speeding up your rhythm so you can finally feel its sweet release. Your orgasm rips through you, white-hot pleasure punches the moan lodged in your throat, unable to catch it in time before it echoes through the walls of the fresher. There’s no way he didn’t hear that, but you really don’t give a shit.

Your hand drops to your side as your body rides out the aftershocks of your orgasm, chest heaving and knees buckling. The steam from the water mixed with your labored breathing post-orgasm makes it way too difficult to breathe. You feel like you’re suffocating, and now that you’re fully relaxed, the exhaustion really taking its toll on you.

Grabbing the new garments you bought from one of the kind gentleman, you slip them on and push the button to open the fresher door. The cool air from the Crest is a breath of fresh air, and you let as much air fill your lungs as humanly possible, taking notice that the ship is dimly lit. You don’t immediately see any sign of Mando, so you poke your head to left, wondering if he might be with the Child. The entrance is shut, and assume that means he’s gone to sleep. You take to the ladder, and use whatever strength you have left—and it’s not much, to climb the rungs to the cockpit. Sleeping in the chair isn’t the most comfortable for your neck or back or any part of your body for that matter, but it’s the only place you think to sleep in, therefore until Mando tells you otherwise, you’ll continue to sleep in this kriffing chair.

It’s when you reach the top of the ladder that you notice the tip of chrome poking through the headrest of the pilot’s chair.

Mando.

Keeping your movements as quietly as you can in the off chance he’s sleeping, you manage to slither in your seat and really try to get comfortable, but it’s truly impossible to do that so you give up quickly and lean a little in the chair, your butt touching the edge of the seat, and your back at an angle. It’s probably worse for your back to be in this position but you refuse to sit up straight in the seat, you definitely won’t be able to sleep that way. Your arms stretch across your chest and let out a deep breath through your lips before closing your eyes.

“By the way,” A deep, rough voice cuts through the silence in the cockpit. Your eyes shoot open and your breath catches in your throat, hanging onto every word Mando says. “The fresher isn’t soundproof.”

Your body sinks back into the chair, cheeks burning hot with equal parts embarrassment and satisfaction. There’s no point in trying to come up with a witty response, because you shamelessly wanted him to hear you. Shutting your eyes again, it’s damn near impossible to hide the devilish grin that’s smeared all over your smug face.

@1800-fight-me​ @tillytheslytherin​ @ayamenimthiriel​ 💛💛💛💛

#the Mandalorian #Din Djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #Din Djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #angst #tw: violence #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #slow burn #we are one when together #fics

[m-y-fandoms]

Korekiyo Shinguuji x reader fluff

Request: Hello!! ✨ Can i request something fluffy with Korekiyo (it would be nice if it would be with his pregame version (but original is okay, too))? Maybe he's having a sleepover with reader? Thank you in advance ✨ I really like your writing. Your oneshots and imagines make my day!!

Okay I’m gonna de pregame Korekiyo like you asked! So just a tall, lanky, beautiful man with a face mask. No incest and lipstick or killing game lmao. Also I’ll make him interested in anthropology but not the Ultimate/SHSL - Admin Kokichi

     “Are you sure? I really don’t want to impose…” your best friend, Korekiyo Shinguuji, stares at you from behind his black dust mask with a concerned gaze. His brows are furrowed deeply in the center.

     Korekiyo had gotten into a fight last night with his legal guardian, his older sister. Apparently, it had been a nasty one, unlike anything that’s happened between them before. It gotten so bad that she kicked him out of the house, with no word of when he would be allowed back in.

     “Yeah, of course, Kiyo! We are buds right? You’re my bestie! I can’t let my bestie just spend the. night alone in some hotel or sleep out in the street, now can I?”

     “But Y/N-”

     “Would you let me go sleep in the street if it were me?”

     “No, I suppose not, but-”

     “Then any argument you have in invalid. Case closed!” You closed your notebook on your desk haughtily as if to signify the end of the conversation. Korekiyo sighed, a slight blush on his cheeks as he placed his head down on his desk with anxiety.

     “You’re sure your parents are okay with it?” He mumbled, his black hair cascading down his back and shoulders and splaying out around his desk.

     “Well…”

     “Y/N…” he warned, scolding you like a mad mother.

     “They will be out of town this entire week. My dad always travels for work and my bitch of a stepmother has to stay attached to his hip like a leech at all times so-”

     “Then me staying over seems highly inappropriate. I’m sure your father would-”

      “Don’t make me guilt you into coming over. You’re my friend. You’re in need, and I love spending time with you! Please?” You reached over and pulled on the sleeve of his exorbitantly-priced sweater with eyes wide like a puppy dog.

     “You win this time, Y/N, but if your father finds out and becomes hostile toward me, I’m going to blame you…” he joked breathily, shaking his head at his stubborn best friend. He couldn’t help but give into your every want and desire, and you often pulled him into your schemes and plans. Well...he called them schemes, but he was just a goody-two-shoes, so anything not morally immaculate or life-enriching was considered foolish to him.

     “Then it’s settled.” You nearly squealed. You’d been waiting forever to have him over to your house, but he’d always declined. You’d known him for about a year, and still your humble abode had remained a mystery to him. He lived with his older sister who took care of him after their parents died, and she was extremely strict with him. He was never allowed to come over after school. You’d been to his place once or twice, but always with supervision and strictly for studying or some other educational activity. If you wanted to spend time after school, he had to lie to her about where he was going and why. Finally, you’d have your crush, your best friend over to your home.

     You had to admit to yourself, you did feel a little guilty about the whole situation. You were inviting him over for mainly selfish reasons. Yes, he was your best friend and you’d never let him go without a place to stay, but there was a large part of you that just wanted the boy you liked alone and to yourself for a night or...maybe two, if this first sleepover went well. Unfortunately though, your crush on him weighed heavily on you. You felt horrible for keeping this secret of your feelings from him, because he trusted you with everything. You were so scared that letting him know that you wanted to be more than friends would ruin the close bond you two had. Yeah...it would be way too awkward to remain friends afterward if he rejected your feelings.

~

     You both were let out after the last class of the day. Korekiyo walked you back home every single day since you’d become friends. At first, you found it a bit embarrassing, seeing as he was one of the kids from the rich neighborhoods around your school and you lived in a middle-class suburb a bit further away. Your fears about your class-difference with your best friend quickly faded as you got to know him. It became clear within weeks of hanging out that he would never judge you based on financial status, whether you lived in a trailer or a palace. That was just one of the many things you loved about him. And boy could you list a bunch…

     He was intelligent, a straight-A student and teacher’s pet. He had endless wisdom and knowledge of both practical things and useless trivia. He gave the best advice, and was so passionate about both his hobbies and yours. You could talk with him forever without the topic getting dry.

     His looks only enamored you to him further. He was tall and slender, with a perfectly built frame. Unlike your peers, he never got acne, and his complexion was pore-less and smooth like marble. He was pale, and his eyes stood out like flecks of gold against an ivory surface. His hair was healthier and more majestic than any female you knew. It was long, all the way down his back, and was the deepest, darkest shade of black with delicate bangs that fell across his forehead. He was absolutely gorgeous, but for some reason he still had self-esteem issues. For this reason, he always wore a dust mask over his mouth and nose that concealed his entire lower face. You could never understand why. Everyone at school either liked him or was jealous of him, and he had nothing to hide from anyone.

     He tried to lie to you at first, stating that he had a weaker constitution and because of frequent illness and hospital visits, his sister made him wear it, but once you got closer, he admitted he liked hiding his face and it made him feel comfortable. He customized his masks, or commissioned them to be specially made, having embroidery on them or patchwork and sometimes shelling out for the more expensive leather or designer masks...which you didn’t even know existed until you met him.

     You’d tried to convince him multiple times that he was beautiful and had nothing worth covering up, but he insisted upon wearing the masks in public at least. After knowing him for a few months, he let you see his bare face, but only at his house. And man...were you blown away. He almost...looked like a woman without the mask. But not? It was hard to explain. He was like some kind of gender-less, androgynous deity. He certainly had a strong, masculine brow and jaw, but then his lips were pert and plump and soft...soft-looking at least. They were gentle and the cupid’s bow dipped down low and rounded out. He had a wide, manly chest and slender waist, but long eyelashes. Large, veiny hands, but delicate skin and hair. He was absolutely heavenly to look at. That first time, when you’d seen him without his mask, you knew you were falling hard, and it made you sweat and your heart speed up. You were always so scared that you’d go too far or flirt by accident and he’d catch on and pull away from your friendship. It hadn’t happened yet, thankfully.

     It was raining, pouring down actually, and you two rushed down the street side by side, backpacks over your heads for protection from the downpour.

     “I apologize. As you know, I would usually have an umbrella but after she kicked me out last night, Miyadera has refused to let me go in and get anything that I didn’t have on my person at the time.” He was right, he was always prepared for any possibility, and his sister had now made that impossible.

     “It’s fine. I read the forecast this morning. I should’ve brought one as well,” you yelled, the rain pelting you both loudly. “We really should get a car or something. We’re seniors for fuck’s sake.” We? You didn’t know why you’d said that. He was his own person and probably could afford to buy you both cars with his own pocket money.

     Why did you even say that?

     “Ah, but walking is better exercise! It’s good for us! Besides...Miya won’t let me buy one... you know that. She practically controls all of my funds.”

     “Kiyo, you’re 18 now, get your damn money back!”

     “I’m scared…” he chuckled, only half-joking. It was true, you both had turned 18 recently and were about to graduate, but his sister still treated him like a little kid. Pretty ironic, as you wouldn’t kick a little kid out onto the street on their own.

     You passed his neighborhood, and he looked up at it longingly, raindrops substituting tears dripping down his cheeks. You could tell this was weighing on him. He loved his home, it was where he felt safe, and he hated fighting with his sister. She was a tough guardian, yes, but she gave up her life as a young woman in her prime to raise him.

     You were approaching your street now, both of you soaked down to your socks and hoping your bags didn’t also soak through. You both had many folders of homework and electronics inside that would all be ruined if so. You reached the curb, waiting to cross into your neighborhood, when an unruly teen in his beaten-up sedan screeched by, speeding past you two carelessly. You grabbed Korekiyo’s pale, cold hand, startled by the sudden volume of the law-breaking vehicle, and you both gasped as its wheels dug into the puddle in front of you just below the curb, and splashed onto you both like a tidal wave.

     “Fuckin’ asshole!” You yelled, charging forward after the car until a hand landed firmly on your shoulder, holding you back. You swore the rain would begin to evaporate and steam up into the air with how hot your skin was right now. You were royally pissed off.

     “Y/N if he’s the type of man to do that, what do you think talking to him would accomplish? Also, do you really think it’s possible to catch up to a speeding vehicle on foot?” Always the voice of reason. Always so calm and mature. You usually admired that in him, but right now you were seeing red, and his dismissal of your mood made you a bit ticked off at him as well.

     “But! I-gah! Aren’t you pissed? He just-”

     “Got us wet? We were already wet.”

     “But he did that on purpose!”

     “I know. Being irate changes nothing. Come on, once we are inside I’m sure we can get warm and dry off. I’ll keep you warm,” he smiled gently behind his mask, his eyes crinkling. Your cheeks would’ve heated up had your body not already been aflame from rage. You didn’t know why you were always so flustered when he was caring toward you or touched you or even mentioned touching you. You felt gross reveling in his platonic intimacy so much. It felt like you were taking advantage of his kindness. Yes, he could keep you warm once you got home. That was normal. You two always cuddled or held hands or leaned on each other. You were just that close. But it was all just casual, as friends...right?

     “Y-yeah. You can shower and I have some baggier, more comfortable clothes you can wear to hang out and sleep in. I think those should fit.” Korekiyo was taller than you and awfully skinny but you had some general sweatpants and oversized t-shirts that you were sure would fit anyone comfortably. You knew Korekiyo was used to the best and most expensive textiles and fashion, but for just hanging out at your house? It should be fine.

     “That’s very kind of you, thanks.” You were sure he was thinking: how could you put me in peasant-wear, but he would never say that aloud to you. “Why do you have that awful look on your face? Did I say something to offend you, Y/N?” He took your hand in his as you reached your front door and rummaged through your bag for your house keys, Korekiyo holding his phone’s flashlight over your bag to assist you.

     “No, I’m fine, Kiyo, why?” The keys jingled in the lock and you opened the door.

     “You know you can’t lie to me, Y/N,” his voice dropped into a low rumble, and you got chills down your spine. He was just so...sexy without even trying.

     “I just...sometimes I feel bad that you spend so much time with me or like I’m not enough, like the rest of our classmates who live in that bougie housing plan of yours...like with the clothes I’m giving you tonight. I feel like you deserve better or like...like what if those kids start to judge you one day because you’re hanging out with people that are beneath you.”

     “Y/N,” he stopped you, rolling his eyes as you both dropped your soaking bags and overcoats on the floor on your living room, “You’re my ‘bestie’ as you always say,” he chuckled dryly. “Do you really think I care what clothes I’m wearing when we are alone or what any of our peers think of my friendship with you? I know you know me far better than that… where is this all coming from? You’re unusually… emotional today,” he took your hand once again, leading you to the couch, but pausing before sitting down with you. “I do not wish to soak your couch. That shower would be nice about now,” you could see the pallor of his skin, coated like wet porcelain as he shook slightly.

     “Y-yes! Well okay, we have a bathroom in my parent’s master bedroom and one just in the hallway for guests and myself. You can take the master bedroom one, it’s much nicer,” you stuttered.

     “Why do you insist on babying me and always thinking I need pampered or require only the finer things in life? I was born wealthy, I don’t need all of those things. I think your house is wonderful,” he gestured around him, “just like you!” He encouraged you before letting you lead him upstairs. You ran to the bathroom closet then to your room, leaving him in the dark hallway alone for just a moment. He observed the photos on your wall, the paint, the carpet. Why would he judge you for any of this?

     You returned with the sleep-wear you promised and a fresh towel.

     “You can go ahead and use anything in there. My dad won’t even notice. B-but... if you don’t like his soaps and shampoos let me know. I have quite the skincare and bathing collection!” You were a little proud of that fact, and he smiled at the happiness finally leaking back into your attitude.

     “I’m sure it will all be fine. Thank you, Y/N.” He nodded, taking the towel and clothes from you before heading into your father’s room. You turned on your heel, fetching what you needed before taking a shower of your own in the hallway’s smaller bathroom.

~

     You sighed, but not in relief or relaxation, letting the hot water fall over you and loosen your tense muscles. You felt just so...fucked up. Conflicted. Confused. Guilty...love-struck. You didn’t know what to do and felt extremely overwhelmed.

     Tonight would be the best opportunity to tell him how you feel: alone, private, cozy and warm, cuddling up together? Yes, that was perfect...but at the same time, if he rejects you, then what? He leaves immediately and has nowhere to go? Or maybe he stays the night to be polite and there’s an awkward silence between you for the rest of your lives...what if he avoids you after school and no longer wants to go to the same university as you?! Your head was spinning.

     Why am I such a coward...you thought to yourself, tears mingling with the shower water.

~

     When you finally dried off and got dressed, Korekiyo was already waiting for you in your room, having turned on your electric blanket on your bed and sitting patiently waiting for you underneath it. His hair was damp and his mask was on your night stand. He acknowledged your entrance with a warm grin and patted the bed next to him.

     “Why are you in bed? It’s only like five, I was thinking we would go downstairs and cuddle on the couch and eat something-” you approached him slowly and he cut you off.

     “Goodness, Y/N, what’s wrong?” He stood to meet you, inches away and towering over you.

      “Huh?” He took your chin in his hands and tilted it upwards to meet his dandelion-colored eyes.

     “Your eyes are all puffed up. You’ve been crying? Why?” Wow…

     “You never miss a thing, huh, Kiyo?” You tried to change the subject or lighten the mood or...anything!

     “Only when it comes to you~” he hummed before leading you down the stairs and onto your couch. You dragged along behind him like a child being forced to the dentist. “Now, what’s upsetting you? You can tell me anything, you know that…” his eyes were full of concern and he but his lower lip, apprehensive.

     “Kiyo, I- well….it’s just...nothing’s wrong. Let’s go get some snacks. I know you love soup dumplings with white rice~” You smiled weakly.

     “First of all, that’s more of a meal than a snack, but anyway, you know you can’t lie to me, Y/N.”

     “I just...I just want...this is so hard.” You sighed, voice faltering.

     “What’s so hard? Me sleeping over, or your dad being gone? The rain earlier?”

     “No no.... I want you here and you know I don’t miss my dad...a-and I feel much better after washing up…” your voice trailed off. He took your hand one final time that night.

     And then...

     “May I kiss you?” Kiyo spoke so gently, so scared and soft, like he couldn’t even believe his own words. Your eyes widened in shock.

     “W-what?!” You pulled away from him, incredulous.

     “I want to kiss you, Y/N. Will you allow me?” You paused for a moment, your mind reeling, but then you nodded slowly, your brain taking over and deciding it knew what was best for you.

     Korekiyo leaned in, the couch squeaking a bit at the shift of weight. He clasped your chin with one hand, and guided you to him. His lips pressed gently into yours, as if he thought he might break you if he went any further. His lips were plush, surging with warmth, exactly how you’d always imagined them. After pecking you, he pulled back, looking for consent, looking for a sign that you enjoyed that, too. You nodded, getting the hint, and he pressed back onto you, a bit more liberal with his affection this time around.

     “Mmm…” you moaned into the kiss as you both tilted your heads at an angle to reach deeper, and his mouth slid open. His tongue trailed against your bottom lip and you opened up without hesitation, your heart going a mile a minute. His tongue massaged yours carefully for a long moment that seemed frozen in time, and then he pulled back. You both sat staring at each other, panting a bit, until a smirk teased across the corner of his lips, and a blush appeared on his normally-concealed face. “H-how...how did you know?”

     “I’ve always known…” you felt a wave of embarrassment and shame wash over you. “You’re not good at hiding it.”

     “Kiyo...I’m so sorry. I know we are just friends and I shouldn’t feel this way. I just- you are...I can’t stop feeling this way.”

     “Y/N...did you think I asked to kiss you out of pity…?” He saw something like realization register in your expression, and he reached out, pulling you into his chest.

     “You...you feel the same?”

     “Exactly the same.” You didn’t feel so guilty anymore. “And I suppose we both were just too afraid of rejection to say anything. But knowing you, I knew I would have to make the first move if I ever wanted you to myself…” he hugged you tighter with those words.

     “Y-yeah, I’m sorry about that...Kiyo, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you.”

     “And I should’ve told you, but there’s no use feeling guilty. We both want this.”

     “Kiyo, will you...be my boyfriend…?” You now knew his true feelings, but still felt a lump in your throat. What if he didn’t want a committed, serious relationship right now, or his sister wouldn’t allow it...?

     “I want that more than anything.”

     You spent the rest of the night cooking soup dumplings, then shoving your faces with the greasiest snacks money could buy and watching documentaries while snuggled into his lap on the couch. He pointed out little facts and trivia along with each documentary, his obsession for culture and anthropology unabashedly taking over.

#korekiyo x reader #korekiyo shinguuji #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa killing harmony #new semester of killing #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #fluff #angst #romance #pregame #crush #y/n #s/o #friends to lovers #modkokichi #request #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #scenario #Trigger happy havoc #super danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2 goodbye despair #first kiss #sfw

[btsslowburnfic]

BTBY Chapter 6

Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

Chapter Summary: Award Show Day!

Previous chapter here

The rest of rehearsal was blissfully boring, as well as dinner. The BTS production unit was filming their behind-the-scenes content so the guys were occupied the rest of the evening, sparing you from anymore awkward conversation.

The next morning you throw on leggings and a t-shirt and go get your hair and make up done for the award show. It’s not like anyone was going to take your picture or anything, but with everyone else looking so nice you would feel out of place if you didn’t also look fancy. You sucked at hair and make-up so you happily paid the salon pricing. You double checked your garment bag and work bag before heading to the venue.

Security is tight as usual and you happily flash your ID and credentials to the staff. You are the first one to arrive from your team. You find the green rooms for BTS and a shared space for several bands' back up dancers. You sit your belongings in a corner out of the way and begin to review the catering order and ensure the requested food and beverages are present. You are super nervous about today. This is your fifth year doing this award show but your first year mostly solo, and the first year your group hasn’t practiced at the actual venue the day before. You sigh, sitting down the request sheet and counting the hair dryers and flat-irons.

Gina, Xavier, and Joe arrive fifteen minutes later. "Hey there good looking," You walk over and hug Joe, careful to keep your face off his suit. Gina is already in her gown and Xavier is like you, dressed in sweatpants and a shirt, ready to practice. “Ok Gina, what would you like me to do today?” you ask your boss even though you can already guess based on the fact one of you is dressed fancy and one of you is dressed for the gym.

“I’m going to stay here and get the stylists and back up dancers checked in. I want you and Xavier to go wait by the back door for BTS and immediately take them to the stage for rehearsal. As soon as the back-ups get checked in I’m sending them your way. When you’re done, bring them here for hair and make-up and then they’ll walk the carpet.”

“Okie dokie.” you say, “See you later Joe!” you smile and pat his arm as you exit the room. Xavier stops and gives him a kiss before he follows you. The hallway is a clusterfuck of PD teams and garment racks, back-up dancers, and caterers, but you love it. So much chaos but also organization. You love awards show days. You were just so nervous you had forgotten how invigorating it was.

“I’m so excited to watch the performances later!” Xavier squeals as the two of you line up alongside other teams by the back door. You hold up your little “BTS” sign so the group can find you easier. The signs were dumb but necessary. The guys had actually hung out with you way more than your previous artists since you were all working together in a small studio space. And, other than the whole soulmate thing, they were the nicest group you had worked with so far. They were patient with your team and their production unit and chose to stay and eat with everyone at the studio, when they could have had catering delivered to the hotel. Yes, at this moment you were feeling very excited and proud.

A few minutes passed where you made small talk with some other producers who were waiting. You saw several other singers and bands arrive. Finally a large group came in and you knew it had to be yours. You immediately found RM.

"Good morning! Are you guys all ready to go straight to the stage?" you ask as you walk alongside him now that all of the guys and the production team were in the building.

"Yeah we gave our stuff to our manager to take to the green room so let's get there as soon as possible." he responds.

"Alright," follow me.” You lead the group through the winding hallways to the stage, trying to keep them focused even though they and other celebrities keep stopping to wave and say "hi" to each other.

"Sorry, they don't get out often," RM jokes as he apologizes to you. "it's fine. We're good on time.” you assure him while checking your watch” The backup dancers are still going through security clearance.” You had sent Xavier ahead to the stage to meet any who arrived early.

“Hey! Is that [Y/N]?” you hear a voice call out in the narrow hallway.

You recognize the well-dressed man as Mr. Salontes, the manager of Imagine Dragons.

“Mr. Salontes!” you lean in for a polite hug, “It’s great to see you again! How are you? You guys are up for best alternative album right?”

“You have such a great memory [y/n], yes we are, and we’re getting ready to promote it on tour this summer. Speaking of which, we’re looking for a Director. I’ve heard great things about you. Are you looking for a tour this summer?” he looks at you hopefully.

Your eyes widen as you stand there shocked for a second, you were not expecting a group this popular to make you offer and you certainly weren’t expecting it in a busy hallway while you were leading your group to rehearsal. “Oh wow, that sounds amazing. Thank you. I am looking to tour this summer. Ummm… Do you also have a position for a choreographer?"

“No, sorry, just a Directing position. We’ve already hired our choreographer.” You think for a few seconds and take a deep breath, “Oh, that’s too bad. I already promised my choreographer Xavier that I would tour with him this summer.”

Mr. Salontes gives you a kind but incredulous look. “Are you sure? This is a really big opportunity you’re turning down. I’m sure your friend would understand.”

He was so nice about it, you felt even worse. But, a promise is a promise. Xavier and Joe had been there for you through some really shitty times, you were’t going to go back on your word.

“I know, and I really appreciate it I just can’t go back on my word. I do really appreciate the opportunity though. Good luck tonight,” you say with a tone of finality as you begin moving again to get your group to the stage.

“You are crazy,” you hear RM comment behind you.

You roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“You just turned down working with one of the biggest groups in your country right now. You don’t think that Manager is going to run off and tell a bunch of other people that you’re difficult to work with. I thought you took your job seriously.”

You sigh as you continue to meander through the hallways. Yeah you felt bad about declining the offer, but what were you supposed to do? “I love my job but it’s just a job. If he wants to go and tell people that I won’t leave my friend behind then let him. Other opportunities will come along, My friendship with Xavier is more important. Alright, here we are,” you stop and wait in the wings, scanning the backstage for Xavier and your dancers.

“[Y/N] over here!” Xavier waves at you. You walk over. “Ok all of the dancers are here so we are good to go.”

“Perfect let me go check with AV and I will be right back.” you run down to the sound booth to make sure they knew which group was getting ready to go. “Ok, back up dancers you will be over here stage Left.” You look at your sheet. “V, Jhope, and Jungkook you are also stage left. RM and Jin head to Stage left and Jimin, go to the center of the stage.”

They run the songs with choreography and lights only two times. You and another assistant begin to apply lav mics to them for the full rehearsal. “Ok so no throwing mic pacs today ok? These ones are expensive,” you tease RM as you apply the mic around his torso, feeling the electricity buzzing again. “Dammit,” you accidentally say out loud.

“What? Is the mic shorting out?” he asks, looking alarmed. He does have a tendency to break things.

“No the mic is fine,” you mutter.

“Then what’s causing the electricity,” he asks perplexed.

You smirk and feel your cheeks flush, “It’s a soulmate thing,” you say under your breath. You feel him tense up.

“Oh...sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I’m almost finished.” you respond as you hand him the in-ears. “Ok, looks good.” you assess him for a minute and then move on to Jin. His placement is much faster even though he is blushing like a schoolgirl. Cute. All of these guys were adorable. And hot. How was this possible?

You signal to the sound booth that you are ready and they run the full practice through twice. Ahh it looks so good. You have water available for them once they finish. “That looked so good!” you say to Xavier.

“I know I know! Let’s get them to hair and make-up.” you say as you gather the men and lead them to their green room. The walk back to the room is much faster fortunately. The stylists are all waiting at different chairs and their outfits have been hung up for them. “Alright, we’ll see you guys in about 2 hours. You have hair and make-up and then you’ll walk the carpet. After that come back here and we’ll wait to be seated,” you tell the group, allowing RM to translate. You and Xavier grab your garment bags and head over to the dancer’s green room to change and kill time.

“You look amazing!” Xavier compliments you as you exit the changing room in your dress. It’s a long sleeve number with a straight neckline, scoop back, and is mid-thigh length.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you say as you walk over and straighten up his pocket square and tie.

“Soooo anything new? You knowwwwwwww???” he asks.

“Yeah, we had sex in the green room just now. It took 30 seconds while everyone else wasn’t looking. It was great,” you say dryly.

Xavier rolls his eyes at you. “You’re no fun. So he’ s leaving tomorrow and then that’s it?”

“Yep. Just like that. The way things were before.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

You sit down on a bench and cross your legs. Xavier joins you. “Yeah. I mean he’s super cool and all, it’s just not what either of us want.”

“Well we’ve come a long way from yesterday at least.”

You sulk on the bench for a second and then pull up your phone to watch the Red Carpet interviews. It was always so cool to think that you had a small part in making this award show come together. You guys watch the network interview several bands and your back up dancers come over when it’s BTS’s turn. You hear exclamations of “so cool” “Hotness” “I bet they win” and you smile as you hold your phone.

You look at your watch. “Ok, I’m going to head to the green room. Ill see you at our seats?” you ask Xavier.

“You got it doll,” he plants a small kiss on your cheek. “Good luck. I’m sure tonight will go great.”

You smile and head over to their green room. A few stylists are still around to do touch up work and some caterers are refilling waters and snacks. Everything is going according to plan. You sit down for a minute and enjoy the quiet before the storm. A few minutes later, the band and their filming crew arrive. You stand up automatically but you are finishing up reading an article on your phone so you don’t immediately look up.

When you do you see that RM is staring at you with his mouth slightly open. You look at him questioningly. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh,” sorry. He puts his hands in his suit pockets. “You just uh look really pretty.”

You stand there in shock for a second. “Oh. Thanks. I guess I forgot that I changed clothes,” you laugh while gesturing at your dress.

“Oooo lovely sexy lady,” Jimin says to you as he walks over to his seat.

Namjoon barks out in Korean, “Be professional, she’s our director.”

“I’m just saying the truth,” Jim responds in turn. He winks as he walks past you.

“Thank you,’ you blush and say to Jimin. “You guys look great as well.”

RM rolls his eyes and storms over to his chair, taking out his phone and doesn’t say another word to you. You feel your body slowly get hot with Anger. His Anger. Wtf dude? NEXT CHAPTER

#bts fanfic #bts rm x you #bts rm fanfic #bts au fanfic #bts fanfction #namjoon x you #bts scenarios #bts namjoon x reader #bts rm x reader

[killervibe]

“You make me happy.” 💛😍

Where The Heart Is

Caitlin gathered her hair at the base of her neck up in a high ponytail, flexing her elastic over her wrist to tie it up as she watched her boyfriend talk with the guys. She bent down, taping up the last of the maze of brown cardboard boxes, and now that there were no more curtains to filter through, sunlight went streaming down in harsh streaks from the left corner of her large window. 

Caitlin squinted in spite of the glare, keeping her eyes on her work. They stripped the carpet yesterday so she was kneeling now on the horrifically dirty wooden flooring she was rather embarrassed to have been hiding for so many years. Her ripped jeans strained at her knees. Barry had stared at them in disbelief when she answered the door this morning when this all started. Iris smacked him in the chest, walking right past with her takeout breakfast containers and Jitters to go coffee trays, placing them on her lonely bare table in the middle of her otherwise empty kitchen.

“I’m allowed to wear holes in my pants,” Caitlin had said stiffly, though she was smiling because her best friends were right to be so surprised. The whole reason why she had them on was because she found them buried at the back of her closet when she finally got to the end of it with the price tag still attached. She’s half convinced it was a purchase made by Frost in her dark age. Top that with Caitlin dumbly realizing this morning that she left her suitcase with what she was planning to wear for the next week at Star Labs to avoid mix-ups, and this job was a lot more labour intensive than she thought. Her cute white chinos she had originally picked out weren’t going to cut it.  

Anyway, Caitlin grabbed the big black sharpie and wrote on the masking tape that this was her last box of photo albums and trinkets from her parents she had neatly tucked away in a drawer beside her living room couch. Cisco was with that couch now. They were throwing it away, deeming it unsalvageable. Barry bled on it too much to warrant keeping it, even with the plastic wrapping Caitlin had the wise urge to cover it with after 2016.

Wally zipped in twice, wiping his brow. “Cisco’s place is almost done, but the pool table, sheesh. What do you want me to do with that?”

Cisco waved him off. “Leave that for last.” Caitlin licked her lips, eyes falling to his arms in his rolled up sleeves, unable to help herself as his muscles strained, opening a breach in the wide empty space.

See, moving day was actually a lot less work when you had a breacher, two speedsters, and a friend with very flexible long arms.

“Babe,” Cisco said. “A hand please?”

Caitlin nodded, standing up, directing Ralph and Barry into the dimensional vortex that lead to the alleyway outside.

“So,” Iris smirked, sitting down on the floor against her wall, next to the plugged in fan blasting a barely there breeze into her apartment. She shook her iced tea. “You thirsty?”

Caitlin raised an eyebrow. “…For Jitters?”

Iris snorted. Cisco popped back out the breach, took two boxes in his arms, and blew the bangs out of his eyes. His hair was neatly tucked back in a low bun, but his front pieces stayed loose because he was stylish like that. Caitlin watched as he took her silverware and walked right back out of the dimension to their new home.

“Nuh uh, girl. For that.”

Caitlin blushed toying with her necklace.

“Somebody’s new bed is getting christened tonight, is all I’m saying.”

Okay so Cisco was being very attractive right now, Caitlin was not about to deny that. He always was and he was her boyfriend so it’s not like there was anything problematic with that.

Except maybe that Iris had a point. Caitlin and Cisco had a tremendous amount of work to do before sunset to get settled in their new home and Caitlin was spending more time staring at his sweaty tousled HGTV transformation than her own fragiles. He kept sending her excited smiles because today was finally the day they’d get to sleep under one roof and call it their own, both of their names on the lease, with amenities that promise a long future like the four bedrooms (a workspace for each of them and maybe that last one for a little kid to grow up in…) the remodelled kitchen and frost durable insolation.

And she could feel the excitement bubbling in his veins at that idea because she had it too. The thought that they’d get to have that together, so she was feeling all kinds of emotions, but the strongest one hit her whenever Cisco came back with a confident grin wearing less layers on than the trip before.

“Can you please not bring up Cisco and Caitlin in bed? I just had to move it.”

Caitlin turned around, sticking her hands on her hips at Wally. “After all those times I caught you with Jesse in my Med Bay? You realize I have to sterilize everything right? Including the sheets?”

Wally flushed, scratching his head. “—I think I’m gonna—That pool table sure is—Yeah.” He sped off.

Caitlin reached forward, rolling her eyes fondly, giving Iris a hand. She took it gratefully, and Caitlin asked how Iris was doing in her second trimester.

~.~

Late into the afternoon, Cisco took her hand, lacing their fingers. “You tired?”

Caitlin shrugged. Not really, but she wasn’t the one who opened a good 200 breaches today. “Are you?”

He nodded, but his eyes were aglow. “I’m thinking we should try the new place down the street?”

“Which one?” she asked, tracing patterns into his skin with her thumb. She just liked seeing him bounce around.

“The korean one next to the grocery store.”

“Oh! I saw that one with Iris!. It did look good.”

“I’ll order it then,” Cisco said, pulling up the menu on his phone.

Caitlin looked out the window, unaccustomed to this new view. They were several stories high, like her old apartment, but they were facing a completely different part of Central City than she was used to. They were more closer to the edge of the city, which sounded like a nuisance but was actually a lot closer to Star Labs, and safer too. Metahumans loved to strike downtown, the insurance policies were getting ridiculous, so they decided to just ignore that hassle altogether. The area, too, was more residential. There was an urban park a few blocks down as well as public schools. She wondered if she’d be able to see yellow school buses making their way through traffic when making breakfast in the mornings.

Cisco listed off dishes from his phone. They both picked what they were in the mood for, and Cisco placed the order, fumbling for half a second when asked for the address. Caitlin laughed, shaking her head.

“I was thinking we’d start unpacking after dinner?”

“Can’t we ask Barry and Wally to do it for us?”

Cisco scoffed, using a pair of scissors to rip open a box labelled Dining. “And ruin all the fun? Think of all the bonding. The memories we’ll share tomorrow when we can’t find the spoons! The fights about our packing codes. Debating whose lamps get to go where? It’s iconic, Caitlin. These next three weeks of adjustment are pivotal.”

Caitlin leaned against the wall, feeling a little lovesick. “I never even owned any lamps to begin with. All my lamps were borrowed from you, weirdo.”

Cisco stuck out his tongue, digging into the box for the plastic plates. “If we can get the bedroom done by tonight, that’ll make me happy.”

“You make me happy.”

Cisco put down the plastic wrapper on their brand new island counter, giving her some side eye, amused. “You okay?”

Caitlin laughed and staked her claim, unable to keep her hands to herself anymore.

“Usually you’re the one to go all drill sergeant about organization. Especially—When—Mmph! Oh! Okay!”

Cisco kissed her back happily against the counter. She pulled away to tuck a flyaway hair from his nose, and he drew her back. Cisco kissed her slow and sensual, and she felt the sweat at the back of his neck, so she lowered the temperature of the palm of her hand to cool him down.

 He whimpered in her mouth when she did that, pulling her even closer and sighing until he stopped to ask, “Is the fact that I’m speaking your language turning you on or is it the heat?”

Caitlin opened her eyes, running her tongue over her wet bottom lip, and deliberately held onto his bare arms, tugging off his button down completely so he was left in his tank top.

“Neither. It’s our first day in our home together. I can’t stop thinking about us and you’re making it very hard for me to keep my hands off you,” she explained, scratching her frosty nails lightly against his overheated skin.

Cisco blew more hair out of his face, not buying her whole story. “Not that I’m complaining but why?”

“Because that!” she exclaimed, pointing at his entire look. The damn stubble, the sexy hair, his everything. “That’s why!”

Cisco looked down at himself, wrinkling his nose, probably thinking that he needed a shower. Caitlin would not protest to that. If she joined him. “Ooooh. I see. You like my Manual Labour & Sweat & Grind & Tears chic. Really?”

“It’s not just the look,” Caitlin corrected. “I am also very much in love with you.”

Cisco gave her a shy smile. “Sometimes hearing you say that is still like a dream to me.”

Caitlin laughed softly and Cisco took her hand and brought her close, then twirled her around in a dance between the cardboard boxes and unplugged kitchen appliances.

Iris walked into the kitchen, a hand over her stomach. “Did one of you two order Korean BBQ? If yes, can I have some?”

She was kind to ignore their dorkiness as Caitlin looked up at her friend upside down. Cisco brought her up from his dip. “I thought you guys already ordered pizza from Keystone?”

Iris shrugged. “The boys ate it all. But the delivery guy is still waiting so…”

“Right!” Caitlin straightened up, dusting imaginary dirt off on her ripped jeans. “That was fast.”

They went to get their food, and dished it out on the plastic plates, but couldn’t find any forks. Cisco laughed as he opened more boxes, and Iris ate some of Caitlin’s meal with her hands.

~.~

Afternoon turned into evening, and by night their friends were gone. Their home was furnished with all the big things like tables and chairs, couches, desks and Cisco’s computer monitors (“because it’s important Caitlin, no it can’t wait until tomorrow—What like you had to have your stethoscope out today too. Mhmm— Exaaaactlyyyyy”), big kitchen necessities and yes, the pool table. Cisco was happy, because they didn’t finish their bedroom, but there were only eight boxes remaining, so they called it a win.

Now Caitlin stared at their new bed, thinking about what Iris said earlier that day.

“What?” Cisco joked, with his toothbrush in his mouth in the en suite bathroom. He had already showered and finally shaved off his Moving Week Stress Scruff. Caitlin tried her best not to be too disappointed. “Monsters under there? Already?” He spat out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth before coming up beside her.

“It’s a big bed,” Caitlin said.

“Very big,” Cisco agreed huskily. “Like you wanted.”

“Uh huh.”

He trailed his hand along her neck, travelling down her shoulder, flicking her hair over to the side. “You, uh, got any plans with it?”

“Uh huh,” Caitlin said again, breathily.

Cisco smiled into her hair then kissed her pulse point, slipping down the strap of her weightless silky nightgown. “Mmm. Like what?”

“Falling asleep next to you, and waking up next to you in it everyday?”

“Great plan,” he agreed.

Caitlin turned to him with a slow spreading sly smile, and put her hands on his chest. She changed the tone of her voice to match her come-hither look.  “But right now…how about breaking it in?”

Cisco pushed her garment down with his hands on her hips until it fell to the floor at her feet.

#the flash #Caitlin Snow #flash fic #Cisco Ramon #killervibe #fluff #tkv fic

[mysticsparklewings]

Faber Castell Polychromos First Impressions

I've been threatening it, and nowhere it is at last--a test piece for the Faber Castell Polychromos colored pencils!  (And also probably my last piece of art for 2018...) Some of my watchers may remember that I've been stalking the internet for months and waiting with very bated breath to get my hands on these famous pencils. Finally, the holiday season came and after cross-referencing no less than three different websites (at least), we ended up paying about $140 for the 120 set off of Cheap Joe's Art Stuff. Which is still more than I wanted to cough up, considering my 150 set of Prismacolors was purchased off Amazon for around $80. But after months and months of waiting and searching and checking, it seemed to me that was about as good as I was going to get if I wanted the full set. (Which because I suffer from what Coloring Bliss on YouTube has dubbed "Full Set Syndrome," of course I wanted the full set). And to be fair, $140 is still way better than the almost $300 price tag some websites place on these, or if you buy them in the special wooden box--which some places can top out at over $500. So let's talk about how they perform first, and then I'll go back to the more superficial things like appearance, packaging, etc. Since the most important thing is performance. But a disclaimer--this is the first piece I've done with these, and they've intrigued me, so I want to work with them more and maybe do an update/follow-up to see if my opinions change or anything interest comes up. (Hence why I'm calling this a First Impressions and not a Review.) Do I think these pencils are super magical and the best-colored pencils I've ever used? No. They are pretty good, but Prismacolor remains my favorite. These are probably my second favorite of the pencils I've tried, but Prisma is the clear winner for me. My main issue is that they're just not as soft as the Prismas, but I did kind of expect that going in because I've watched and seen a few different reviews for both and comparisons, and it comes partly because the Polychromos are oil based and the Prismacolors are wax based. The oil base just makes them a harder pencil. The reason this ended up bothering me personally to the extent it did has to do specifically with the white pencil. My poor white Prismacolor pencil that is so small I had to put it in a pencil extender to be able to continue to use it will tell you first hand that I'm pretty abusive to that color of pencil. I like to use it for blending, as a base on my toned tan and toned gray papers, and for highlights. Now, from what I've already heard about the Polychromos, I knew the white was going to be second fiddle to the Prismacolor--And I have yet to see anyone anywhere make a compelling case for any white colored pencil other than Prismacolor as "the best." To be fair, if you want a white for blending, I actually think this one is better because as I was working and trying to do highlights over other colors, I noticed it liked to blend. But if you're like me and you want the strong white highlights, you're better off to get the Prismacolor white. In fact, I would say if that's what you want and you're going to invest in the Polychromos, I would recommend also purchasing just the white Prismacolor to go with them. And I don't think this is unreasonable since some would also recommend buying separate blender pencils like those by Prismacolor or Derwent (which for the record I say Derwent; that one seems to work better for me). Now that I'm aware of the issue, I should be able to work around it accordingly, but going in blindly I ended up putting an uncomfortable amount of pressure behind the white to get the results I wanted, and even then I had to supplement more than I expected to with my white gel pen. Other than that, I did discover one other issue that isn't that big of a deal, but I thought was interesting to note because this is one thing I haven't really seen anyone specifically test or talk about: The back of the tin specifically says that these pencils are "Smudgeproof." This could be useful if you're like me tend to drag your hand over your work as you go or you really want your colors to hold still. However, I specifically tested this with some swatches. Maybe I don't know what "smudge" actually means, but with a bit of pressure, I did get the pigment to move outside of the swatch by dragging my finger over it. I do think that's probably more pressure than you'd naturally apply while drawing, and this could also be useful in different blending techniques or to get different effects. So while they may be "smudge resistant," they do not appear to be "smudge-proof" as far as I'm concerned. Not that big of a deal, but definitely interesting. Other than that, I really can't complain about performance. They blended and layered quite well. Usually, I see people raving about layering specifically with these, and even I have to admit I feel like I was able to add more layers that actually made a difference with these than I normally could with Prismacolor. At first, I was a little skeptical about blending, but they ended up pleasantly surprising me. Ultimately, I can see why these seem to be competing with Prismacolor in terms of "Most Popular Artist Quality Pencils." But for me, the key difference is just the softness, and that leads me to believe that these might work better if you tend to be heavy-handed and might have issues with just how soft Prismacolors are (like you might have issues with those breaking or coming out too dark/saturated, so the harder nature of the Polychromos would help you not have those issues). I mean, this doesn't really look any different from my other colored pencil drawings, but that's partly because I know what I'm doing and have a few tricks up my sleeve if pencils aren't behaving the way I want them to. However, this time around I wanted to really push these to see what they could do and I did my best not to give them any help. My procedure was pretty normal; White base to neutralize the tan paper, then I cut straight to coloring, lightest areas first, then touching the darkest, and then marrying the two together. The most difficult area was the mountain at the bottom, but that was partly because of my issues with the white and the fact that I don't have much experience with drawing realistic rocks/mountains. But my white gel pen made up for most of that, I think. (Seriously, never underestimate the potential of a good white gel pen). On to the more superficial things: I will give these one major point over Prismacolor; the packaging for the largest set is much better. This 120 set comes in a tin only slightly wider than a 13" laptop. In the tin, there are three layers of plastic trays filled with pencils. These trays feel a lot sturdier than most because they have built-in little elastic handles on either side to pick them up, and that is strictly necessary because the trays are sized pretty close to the tin. I'm not really a fan of the hinged lid just because you can't set it underneath like you might with a shoebox and the hinge makes setting the top tray of pencils back in the box a little fiddly, but it's not the end of the world. For Prismacolor, the 150 set comes in a thick paper/cardboard box with a total of six trays--three stacked on each side--that's almost twice the width of this tin. That's fine if you've got plenty of room to open the box and carefully move the trays around to get what you need and not spill the pencils, but I myself ended up investing a zipper case specifically for my Prismas because that whole set up is more work than I usually want to deal with. The Polychromos tin, at the very least, I can carefully balance in my lap and I'm less concerned about spilling or dropping them because of the way the tin and trays have been designed. I may end up investing in another case just for the Polychromos if I continue to find the one for my Prismas so much to my liking, but it's not a worrying issue like getting one for the Prismas was. Still, I'd much rather have good pencils and have to go find a better case than have a great case and pencils that suck, you know? On that note, the other area where the Polychromos have a leg over the Prismacolors really comes down to the presentation. If you want to feel fancy, the Polychromos are where it's at, from the packaging--that goes so far as to include a little pamphlet about the pencils and company in the tin--to the pencils themselves that have little gold accents and closed-cap ends, and even a lightfast rating on each pencil. (Though at this point in my life that's more of a fun bonus that a selling point for me). And I personally find most of the color names to seem on the fancier side too. I do think I should note also that the Polychromos pencils are a little bit bigger around than the Prismas, but this doesn't really amount to much. The core size is the same--3.8 mm, which is a pretty decent size--and they fit in a standard sharpener seemingly just fine, no issues. (Which the Polychromos do sharpen really beautifully and hold a point well, but I don't feel like that's groundbreaking information.) I think from a technical standpoint it might give the pencils more strength and protection to hold up to breaking, but on the surface, it doesn't make that much of a difference. I didn't feel a noticeable difference while I was working with them. As I stated at the beginning, the Polychromos have intrigued me and I want to work with them more to see if anything changes or comes up, but for now, my final thoughts are that Prismacolor is still my favorite, even though these are really nice. Do I think they're worth $140? That's more difficult to answer. I don't doubt that at least that much money went into making them based on the presentation alone, but my issue comes in with comparing them to the price of Prismacolor and other brands that aren't that far behind in terms of performance. Right now on Amazon, the 150 set of Prismas is $76.02. Almost half of the 120 Polychromos price and you get 30 more pencils. The highest I've seen it get to there is around $100. If you really want oil based pencils, I will vouch for the Schpierrer Farben pencils, which I've tested before and are officially back in stock!, their 72 set is currently $29.78 on Amazon. Half the price of the Polychromos 60 set. The highest I've seen for those is around $40, which is about what I paid when I got mine. (Though I got mine second-hand when it was uncertain if they'd ever be coming back). For comparison, the 120 set of Polychromos is currently sitting at $145 on Amazon. Yikes! That is honestly the only thing holding me back from really recommending these, much like my love/hate relationship with Photoshop. Beautiful tools, ugly, ugly price tags. Maybe my opinion will shift a bit as I work with these more, but as it stands now I'd still recommend Prismacolor as the best value for the price in terms of the pencils I've tried. With that, excuse if the picture quality isn't that great here; I really wanted to include the pencils instead of just scanning it, since the pencils are so gorgeously designed. And now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to close out 2018 with my favorite tradition of watching the Twilight Zone marathon on SyFy and maybe try to squeeze in one last drawing before the year's over. (Or start off 2019 with a brand new piece of art if I'm too slow ) ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[fst-critique]

In the world of commerce, industry changes and developments are as common as seasonal transitions. Fall turns to Winter, Winter passes to Spring, and so on. Consumer preferences follow a similar cyclical pattern where the journey to capture the Zeitgeist's ever-changing obsessions and interests forces creators to pivot course constantly. Entering 2019, stock markets were at an all-time high, global Gross Domestic Product figures were smashing records around the world, and in the fourth quarter of the same year, the United State’s Consumer Confidence Index- a metric that tracks and reports on merchant activity and goods sold- set a record heading into the infamous second decade of the new millennium. Energetic was the fashion scene. Excess and the demanding schedule proved to be just a couple of ignored characteristics of an industry so adamant about keeping face and remaining exclusive, after all, the money was flowing and the phenomenal growth seen throughout Asia presented a grand opportunity for the luxury goods space to continue in its scaling ways. Unbeknownst to the suits leading billion-dollar conglomerates and hiring even the most unproven designers to head legendary houses, a grassroots movement lead by the younger generation of designers began to take shape right beneath their pristinely kept Berluti oxfords. A cause built on sustainability, a less intensive calendar, and extensive manufacturing transparency meant the old system, wrought with all its imperfections, was perhaps fading into oblivion. Such a mindset of vacating past methodologies was lead by designers like Marine Serre. Her groundbreaking philosophy of upcycling and sourcing transparency won many an accolade and heart for its attempt to reverse harmful environmental impact. These and similar practices were all well and good. Changes were happening, consumers were more informed, and the hours of chatter on how to revise the labor-intensive schedule stirred many a social advocates intellect on how this often puzzling, vast industry could change its weary ways and develop into a more efficient ecosystem of promise.

However, such feats of economic achievement and activism met a swift end as the first cases of the SARS-Covid-19 virus began to surface. COVID- as it is now abbreviate- was first detected in China and continued to spread throughout Asia before landing in Europe and eventually entering the United States in early February of 2020. The masses and industries- from finance to farming- across the globe began to feel the pain of a world forced to reckon with the uncertain. An eerie stillness consumed continents and set in motion a placidity that put an immediate pause on seemingly everything and anything not involving an essential transaction. In what can best be described as a world completely transformed in a blink of an eye, the virus swept away days of travel, leisure activities, and social gatherings en mass. How is it then, as art galleries like Metro Pictures closed, department stores including Century 21 filed for bankruptcy, and the iconic Belgium label A.F. Vandevorst ceased operations, a soul brave enough to push onward would begin a movement of her own despite such an unimaginable and unexpected environment? The key- resilience, the label- Danz New York, and most relevant, the name- Danica Zheng. A proactive and spirited professional with a resume to prove it, Ms. Zheng- whose New York-based label opened in January of 2020- embodies was it means to be able to react on a dimes notice while remaining steadfast in her mission. The barely two-year-old label caters to a young, fashionable audience conscious of price, clarity, and quality. Similar to that of her socially aware peers, the Parsons alumnus has arrived on the scene with an inventive eye keen on further personalizing the relationship between apparel and the wearer. Heading into a time unlike any other, Zheng ensures her response to the unforeseen is a sensitive one. Rather than hide behind themes of fiction and speak on matters just for the sake of talking, her offerings represent adaptation and the inner conflict that arises when faced with seemingly insurmountable ambivalence. For the Fall Winter 2021 show, an impactful display of experimentation, shapely forms, and displaced lines magnified the obscurities placed on the person living in the present by examining how clothing can mirror the responsive nature of the human being.

A sleek look-book showcased Danz’s third effort titled Immersion/Subversion. Glancing at the label's past work, much emphasis was put on contrast and manipulation of fabric. Using a clever mix of synthetic and organic fibers, the classic “downtown” girl stereotype is given a much-needed facelift. Friendlier and fierce, the once flirty, chic girl rocking an Alexander Wang leather jacket over an Anna Sui midi dress has been reinvented to fit a complex more involved with reality. Think flair and objectivity bundled as one. Danz’s trendy pieces and conventional sportswear coexist in an image resembling the work done by the great Calvin Klein, though, the sharp tailoring is more in line with European designers of the 1990s. Naturally, this season’s attention was cast to the ongoing pandemic and the starkness surrounding yet another blanket of anxiety. Per the show notes, the ensemble outlines the individual’s reaction to the Covid-19 pandemic. Zheng compares this wildly time to as if humans are operating life on foreign terrain. Afraid, fearful, and action-oriented, the apparel has a deeply emphatic touch that realizes feelings of what it would be like to be trapped under the crushing weight of water. Submerged in unfamiliar territory, the natural human instinct kicks in and attempts to take control of the formless surrounding. Exaggerated shapes and shifted seams pry into a scene that is strange and unearthly. A shiny sheen coating lacquered atop the fabric presents an idea of the new, however, the clothing’s medium- comprised mostly of cotton and wool- and classic tailoring renders the familiar and the sound. Confusing, perhaps even contradictory? To Danica, not at all. This is her world and her reaction, the results thus far prove her vision translates well to feelings of unrest, discomfort, and the unfiltered yearning for a glimpse of hope and security.

Opening the collection was a belted, light camel trench coat. A classic metropolitan staple found in wardrobes globally, the strength of the outerwear lays in the dimensional aspect of the pattern. Wide and slightly ballooning were the sleeves. Drawing a particularly fresh balance to the a-line silhouette, this tailored, firm look is a modern one. Complete with a functional gun-flap, epaulets, and a wide, sturdy collar, the piece allots the wearer to feel secure and safe. Vegan leather was a suitable choice to combat whatever arises next in the “new normal” way of life that is fast approaching. Fashioned into bodices as well as a knee-length brownish-grey v-neck dress, the interlocking messages of sustainability and protection interact in a way that celebrates the emergence of purpose-driven fashion. Purpose, a message of promise and of seeking peace, is seen through the soft, natural hues that include the use of light grey, beige, navy, and khaki. In conjunction with serving a base of the adults-ish consumer, office-friendly attire fit with a little attitude proved the perception that not all is as it seems. A shirt dress with tapered sleeves cut to the mid-thigh included an inverted dart near the bottom left hem, while a pair of seemingly standard, fitted trousers features either a subtle zip cutout over the thigh or seams that wrap around the ankle providing support for a tiered flare effect. It is these minuscule details that separate the young label from its contemporary peers. Opting to not reinvent the suit happened to be a hallmark of the set. As aggressive stance’s on altering the ageless appeal of the fitted two-piece become a mainstay of recent fashion talk, Zheng’s classic, slightly cinched waist, and angled shoulders bear resemblance to a confident woman who scoffs at her friends wearing a combination of biker shorts and the cliched oversized blazer. However, perhaps the final piece- a peplum double-breasted wool coat- missed an opportunity to conclude the showing on a triumphant note.

For Danica, another challenge only presents more opportunities to delve into the subconscious. Part psychologist and designer, the creative prescribes an enticing idea to match the social climate. Sold at a reasonable price point- pieces range anywhere from $50-$1,000 when not on sale- buying into this stylish, newly formed world need not cost a month's rent, and why should it? The democratization of fashion is here to stay, Danz is only solidifying such doctrine with an inclusive range where style and class can indeed reach the masses. On sustainability, the use of vegan leather and the decision to show only twice per year obtain a notice that the wasteful results of producing eight-plus collections yearly make little sense. This accuracy and realistic reflection of the present have been absent for quite some time in a space overtaken by labor conflicts, price hikes, and greenwashing- results must match a legitimate context to be felt by a consumer living in the information age. Per fellow New Yorker Anna Sui, “Fashion is like a mirror. It is a reflection of the times”. Danica Zheng is painting an accurate depiction of how dress is both impacted and will impact current developments in society. A lesson in humility, understanding, and reaction, Danz Fall-Winter presentation is a human experience created with urgency to interpret emotion. Wherever the future happens to take us next, let us be glad we are privileged enough to have creatives like Danica Zheng who translate even the most terrifying of feelings to a product that is both desirable and effective.

#Fultonstcritique #danz #New York Fashion

[enniewritesathing]

Based on this article. This is a SUPER long read, so... it’s behind the cut (RIP mobile users, maybe), and just some stuff... rambling even, lol. But, it’s an info dump, some insights, silliness... etc...

On Preparation:

Brian: “Oh, lord. I don’t know who’s crazier during training -- me or John.”

John: “It’s both of us.”

B: “Yeah... listen, when fight week is here in this house? It feels like every seam is going to burst. It’s chaos, it’s anxiety, the tension.”

J: “Ah, sorry. Hey, you told me to take it outside, so I did. There’s a small gym in the backyard. Pads, mirrors, the treadmill, I even hooked up the soundsystem. I’m usually in there twice a day. Three times if I’m lucky.”

B: “I usually don’t see him for days at a time. Sometimes it works out, because I’m on rotation shifts at the hospital. Then I worry that I’ll see this [jerks thumb at John] dumbass on a stretcher. It’s one thing to push yourself, but to the point of injury. Again.”

J: “He’s never going to let me live that one down.”

B: [matter-of-fact look] “He almost died.”

J: “And you call me dramatic? Brian, I didn’t [in mocking tone] “almost die”. I’ll tell that story later. I have a bunch. Before he kicked me out of the house, I’d practice in what’s now the green room. Wait-- what about when we were living at ina’s house? You wanna...?”

B: “No, what do you do now.”

J: “Ah. Well, wake up in the morning, around 4. Go out for a five mile run. Come back, stretching, then drills for three hours. If I’m lucky, there’s breakfast, full of carbs. 30 minute rest, then back to more drills. Then, shadow box with the mirrors for... [makes vague hand gesture]. When I’m at that point, it’s easy get lost in it. After that, more drills, cool down run, stretches, meditate, then dinner. Repeat until three days before a fight. It’s all meditation at that point. I’m not worried about making weight or anything like that.”

B: “Y’know, I didn’t realize we had that many mirrors until I watched.”

J: “I didn’t either. How many do we have?”

B: “I counted twelve. And they’re [makes wide armed gesture]. Sometimes, I have to pull him out of whatever he’s got going on in his mind. That’s how intense he gets. It’s amazing.”

J: “Really? [raises eyebrow] You said you watched...”

B: “Well, duh, I’m gonna watch. You’re so focused... a couple of times, I watched for an hour and you didn’t notice. Like I said, I don’t know where he goes in his mind. There’s a certain... energy that he has. It’s also the same energy that makes me a little anxious and it drives me a little crazy because I keep... visualizing something’s going to happen during the fight itself. I know-- I know it’s weird to think that far ahead, but I think about all the things that can go wrong.”

J: “Except the times... yeah.”

B: “Yeah. I have to get in that mindset when he’s getting ready for a fight, but I am not... I never feel ready and honestly, I never will.. But, when I watch him shadowbox, the way he moves and how sharp he is, how he flows, hell, the way he looks. He fights beautiful. That and those shorts you always wear... [smiles] hmm. I love it when he wears those and he has his hair down, and he’s all sweaty--”

J: [slightly embarrassed] “Babe, please.”

B: “But behind the beauty is something... I’d say even demonic.”

J: “Oh my god. You’re like the third person to say that. My opponents, I understand. But my own boyfriend? Demonic?”

B: “There’s a better word for it -- ah, scary. There are a couple of photos we have that’s in his uncle’s gym that... scares me. Because it’s like looking at a stranger or a peek at something you’re not supposed to see. I admit the one where you’re just standing there, just covered in blood is my favorite... but the one that scares me is...”

J: [thoughtful look] “Which one? I have a lot of them.”

B: “Over the trophy case. The one with you screaming and your eyes are super wide and hair wild. You looked possessed.”

J: “Oh! Yeah, yeah, that one? That’s probably the scariest I’ve ever seen myself. It’s like ‘holy shit, what did I become?’” And it’s only for a few seconds I’m like that. The funny thing is I don’t remember doing it and I don’t remember that fight...”

B: “Hell, when your eyes do ‘The Thing’.

J: “Oh, like this? [he turns to Brian. His eyes widen slightly for a moment and Brian shirks]’

B: Augh! Yes, that one. I’ve watched your opponents shrink during the staredown. You scare the shit out them before they do anything.”

J: “Really? Am I that scary?”

B: “Let me put it this way, if I never knew you like I do, I would say yes. Since I do, and I know how you work, then no. I realize that you’re a different person in the ring. I don’t know him other than what I see. The John in the ring is vicious and sinister. Dominant. I would say a monster. [sees John frowns] But that’s the only time I see that John. This John is the John I know and love dearly, and I guess no one sees that side of him, or even think that he’s even capable of it. He’s a very sweet person, so of course for me it’s scary at first, then I have that mindset.” [shrugs]

J: [stunned look] “Uh... wow.”

B: “It’s the truth. That’s what I think of you-- well, John in the ring.”

J: “Well what about... John in training?”

B: “Him? Oh jeez [counts on fingers] loud, ornery, obsessive... sometimes, I don’t even bother you when it gets close. He’s a jerk.”

J: “Ornery?”

B: “When he has to make weight, John doesn’t like it when I eat or --god forbid-- cook around him. I have to air out the house so he won’t get upset at not eating delicious food. He made me eat out on the porch a couple of times. He’s an asshole when he’s hungry. Imagine that for two weeks. The little things set him off. It drives me nuts. And it makes me want to wring his neck.”

J: “Yeah... I can’t lie on that.”

B: “The only good that comes out of it is that this [gestures over chest] looks great. [John looks exasperated] Oh, don’t give me that look. You said the same thing about my legs and ass when I ran track.”

J: “You’re rarely this... forthcoming with your thoughts.”

B: “Oh, sweetie, you should hear me when I’m at work. I brag about you all the time. Are you blushing?

J: “N-no?”

On Traveling:

J: “When I was younger, travelling was exciting. New places, new people, new cultures... Now? [sighs] It can be rough. Especially if it’s a overseas trip. I usually fly out the week before so I can get over the jet lag.”

B: “It’s rough when I can’t go.”

J: “It sucks, but it’s a sacrifice -- totally because Brian’s a nurse and honestly... it would be selfish of me take him out of a place where he’s needed, y’know?”

B: “He’s a little more nervous --just a teeny bit-- when he has to go by himself. I’m not there to calm him down. When I drop him off at the airport, it’s like... watching a warrior going to battle. Of course, I know he’s coming back, but it doesn’t make it less... dramatic?

J: “It is when we kiss.”

B: “Really?”

J: “I mean... I think about it the whole trip there. It’s a nice thought...”

B: “Ah. We got fussed at by security a couple of times because they’re not too keen on ~romance~. We’re not making out or anything like that.”

J: “That old guy?”

B: “Ugh, him. It’s always him too. I make it a point to piss him off when John comes back and I leap into his arms and give him the biggest kiss I can manage.

J: “Anyway, when we do travel together, we always fly if it’s far enough. Brian brings just about everything.”

B: “No, I don’t; I just like to be prepared.”

J: “Everything. I pack my clothes, my gear, headphones... that’s it. Brian packs like ten outfits knowing full well we’re not gonna be there that long and other things that are just...”

B: “I also like to have options. [nods. John sighs.] One time we flew to Japan-- I checked the weather before we left and it was cool -- John insisted that we didn’t need coats or anything like that, but I packed a few hoodies just in case. [beat] It was snowing when we got there. John only wore some short sleeves and jeans.”

J: “Okay, okay, so I got caught...”

B: “We got caught in the middle of a blizzard”. [gives a very pointed look]

J: [glares] “I like sitting at the window seat. Brian, though? A couple of times he’s had to swap seats to the emergency row because his seat is small.”

B: “Until we started springing for first class seats. It’s expensive, but it’s worth it. It’s one thing being tall, but when you’re wedged between two people... you get a little claustrophobic. In first class? Not a problem. We can sit next to each other and still have room to ourselves to sleep.”

J: “He’s really cute when he sleeps on the plane. Brian hates turbulance, so I hold his hand or, y’know, stroke his hair or something. The flight attendants always ask if he’s alright. They think it’s cute.”

B: “When we get to the hotel... we always get raised eyebrows. I mean, you see him, and then you see me, it’s like the beginning of a bad porno. ‘Twink Gets Stuffed By...’ eh, you get the idea.”

J: “I wouldn’t call it bad. I mean, bad would be out in the woods with Mother Nature and mosquitos joining in.”

B: “Or bears.”

J: “Or bea-- Brian.”

B: [laughs] “There’s this voice that he puts on too. I can’t describe it other than you remove the bass. Kinda like... when you talk in Filipino or something else.”

J: “It’s my friendly voice. When you have a voice like I do, it’s commanding and authoritive or something. So, to not frighten anyone, I speak higher. That’s it.”

B: “It’s too...”

J: “Fake?”

B: “Oh, absolutely. The rooms are always nice, so there’s that. One time we got a Junior suite... Best bed I’ve slept in.”

J: “It better be. I looked up the price of the bed. It was four thousand dollars.”

B: “No wonder rich people are always smiling...”

On ‘The Myth’:

B: “That myth is... It really depends. We’re still trying to find that sweet spot. A month is excessive.”

J: “A month is complete and utter bullshit.”

B: “See, it’s not a big deal for me because my wants are low to begin with; a month is no problem. Extra sex? Bonus. But John? I have never seen him so sexually frustrated on purpose in my life.”

J: “Not even--”

B: “No, because while it’s cute when you beg a little, I usually throw the bone after. This is like on a scale of one to one hundred, it was... a ninety-seven. You were like a cat in heat. A month long tease. And John doesn’t like being teased much. It pisses him off.”

J: “No sex for a month before a fight was the goddamn worst. I don’t know if it affected me because, that was the fastest fight I had. Knockout in 34 seconds in the first round. Caught ‘em with a liver shot with my knee.”

B: “It was a beautiful knee. Right after when the ref calls it, he looks like me like “Get your ass ready.” Soon as we got back to our hotel, I had very little warning... [looks at John] “I told him to hold back until we get home... he didn’t.”

J: “Hoo, yeah, no, I didn’t. I couldn’t wait.”

B: “It was a mess. I’m glad we had all those pillows around. I may have screamed.”

J: “Oh, don’t worry, it was a good scream.”

B: “I couldn’t walk straight for a week.”

J: [a rather pleased smile]

B: “A month is too excessive. For me on the receiving end. A couple of days? I can buy that.”

J: “A couple of days is fine, but... a month? Who the fuck thought that was a good idea? I thought I was going to pop...”

B: “You did. Repeatedly.”

On injuries:

B: “Injuries. [long sigh] They’re terrible. They’re terrible in general, but when it happens right in front of you, you just hope that they’re going to be okay after. When John fights, I just hope he wins with minimal scratches. That goes for his opponent too.”

J: “Injuries... they can and will happen. Do I want them to happen? Absolutely not because there’s nothing worst than training for half a year or whatever, and you get hurt and lose because of it. I’d rather lose by points and hell, a knockout before losing because of that. It sucks. And while I do fight hard, I never have the intention of injuring someone on purpose. Does that makes sense?

B: “Like, legal cheap shots?”

J: “Yeah. Those piss me off because that pretty much says, “I don’t know how to fight so I’ll do this instead.” It’s like in fighting games, you use that one power attack and nothing else.”

B: “What about the... ones that are pure bad luck?”

J: “The Benni fight. God, that was rough. [John leans back] I broke his leg. I know it sounds weird, but I’m glad it was a clean snap, they’re so much easier to put back together.”

B: [nods]

J: “The way he looked, his scream... I cried behind that. Obviously, I asked about him after he, uh, got to the hospital. Visited him even, and I apologized like almost every other word. He told me not get upset over it because -- it happens. It was an unlucky moment.

B: “He took that fight pretty hard and John started to hold back because of it. No one else recognized that, but I did.”

J: “Brian got on my ass about it. I mean, I’ve hit hard. I’ve broken someone else’s nose or, slashed their face with an elbow, knock a tooth out; you can bounce back from that easy, you name it, I probably did it, and I don’t mean to. But breaking someone’s leg? [he shakes his head] That’s life changing.”

B: “I did. Now, you wanna talk about the Shapiro fight or... both sides of it.”

J: “The Shapiro fight is the fight I [looks at Brian] almost died. It’s more of ‘getting into deep shit’. So, during the second round, my defense was absolute shit and he got a knee in when he clinched me. I heard two, maybe three pops. There’s a brief pause and he lets go. I’m ready to strike and... I remember feeling something hot [lifts up shirt, points to three lower ribs] around here and I couldn’t breathe. I was on the floor. Ref’s counting. It’s a dull pain, but nothing I can’t get back up from.

I get up. Ref gives the okay. When I took a breath, it felt like I got stabbed. I didn’t let Shapiro know by my face, but I guarded more. By the time he picked up on it, the round was done. I told my uncle ‘I broke something’. I was starting to feel dizzy. He asked me if I wanted to go on. I should’ve said no, and have him throw in the towel. My pride wouldn’t let me [laughs]. It was stupid of me--

B: “--and probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen him do--”

J: “--that’s fair. Third round starts. I’m barely holding it together. I set up a combo ,ends with a Superman punch. Boom. He goes down. Thank god I knocked him out... I don’t remember the rest, other than telling my uncle, ‘I can’t breathe. I’m gonna pass out. I’m gonna pass out--’I took this huge gasp [exaggerated gasp]... and then next thing I know, I’m at the hospital.”

B: “Before the third round started, I heard John and my heart sank. I knew he was going to go for it. I wanted to scream at him ‘don’t you do it’. He looked like hell. He looked like he was going to pass out the whole time. Honestly, I wished he did. After the fight, John was in trouble. He was hyperventilating, shaking. He passes out. I’m going crazy because he’s not moving. We get to the hospital. John’s broken 3 of his ribs, and one of them punctured his lung.”

J: “I was out for a month and a half. To say that Brian was pissed at me is an understatement. But saying that I almost died? C’mon, man. That’s too much.”

B: “You scared the shit out of me. And given what I see everyday at the hospital, that escalates quick. Hell, you really scared your mom.”

J: “She cursed me out. I’ve never seen her so angry in my life. Brian had to hold her back from trying to beat the shit out of my uncle.”

B: “Your mom is like a tiny wolverine; she wanted to fight everyone. I mean, she was right in feeling that way. Especially... y’know. You’re her only son now. I know that calling it, especially with something that, is a blow to your ego given what you said earlier. It sucks. I get it, but you live, so to speak, another day. Less recovery time.”

J: “Brian took it harder than I did, and I’m the one that fought. It made me reevaluate things when I saw him cry. Full on, soul baring cry. And one thing I promised to myself is to not make Brian cry over me. He starts crying, I start crying too. Like every time he looked at me, he’d just turn away so I wouldn’t see him.”

B: “The Shapiro fight was the stupidest thing he’s done. Other fights? I can live with.”

J: “That’s because you love the scars. Everyone loves them. The bad about mine is that, you can barely see them. My tattoos cover a lot of them up. If you’re good enough with elbows, you can fuck someone up. They are the sharpest point on your body. I got cut a couple of times. [pulls back hair] de la Rosa got me with this. Pissed me off more than anything else because I have a lot of hair and it takes a while to wash it. It kept it from really bleeding enough for a stopppage, so there’s that.”

B: “A lot of his opponents try to go for his face. Obviously.”

J: “I think they’re jealous. I always hear ‘I’m gonna bust up your pretty face’, ‘I’ll make you bleed’, so on, so forth. I never take it as an insult because, hey, they think I’m pretty.” [shrugs]

On defeat:

B: “When John loses... and he does, he takes it personally. Not as much as when we were younger, but he does.”

J: “I’m still working on it.”

B: “I have to let him mourn, but at the same time, I have to pull him out of it. That’s been... sort of my role in this. I give him three days. That’s enough time to cry together, mope together, emotional together... everything. The fourth day? I have to step in. Remind him that he’s come this far. It’s a learning opportunity. Great fighters have losThat’s all .”

J: “When I was younger, before Jake died, I promised I’d win every fight. I thought that, y’know, if I win, he’d get better. That... wasn’t the case. [sniffs] Even after he died, and I’d lose, I’d... beat myself up over it. Like I broke my promise to him. I take them very seriously.”

B: “He does.”

J: “When I’m beat, it’s usually by points. The worst defeat I’ve had was by 8 points.”

B: “The... Santiago fight?”

J: “Yep.”

B: “Ugh, those judges were awful. That whole fight was awful. Not as awful as getting knockout out. [shudders] It’s like you see his soul leave his body.”

J: “Oh my god, Brian.”

B: “I’m-- okay, of course when you’re knocked out, you don’t realize it. That’s the scary part of it -- he doesn’t quite fall at first, because, i-it’s a delay. His body keeps going. You look at his eyes, he’s not there. [he takes a breath] When he does fall, it’s quick. It’s like... a fish gulping for air. It’s for maybe thirty seconds and then he’s back up. Ugh...”

J: “It’s one thing to see it on tv, but when you see it up close, yeah, it’s uh... it’s brutal. I only remember what happens after. When I’m knocked out, it’s... different.”

B: “I can’t stand it... I was gung-ho at first, but, when we became boyfriends and watching him fight... it’s just scary. I’ll go for support, but it’s getting hard for me to watch him. I’m scared that...”

J: [grabs Brian’s hand] “I don’t hold it against it when he doesn’t want to go with me.”

B: “Not any more.”

J: “I can’t trust anyone else to braid my hair like you do...” [kisses hand. Brian smiles]

B: “Among other things.”

On Watching the Fight:

B: “I can watch most of it. When we started dating? Oh, I could barely stand it. I peeked through my fingers. John knows I’m there in the corner. I try not to yell. I can’t guarantee it when Noelle [John’s mother] is with me though. She’s contagious. I know you can’t hear us.”

J: “I do. You have a distinct voice.”

B: [shocked] “Really? Oh, boy, I’ve said... I’ve said some wild things.”

J: “He’s a shit talker. Like, I barely do it, but Brian? Oh my god. I don’t know which fight he said something about...”

B: “I said that the opponent moved as fast as my grandmother. [beat] She’s been dead for twenty years.”

J: [hearty laugh] “Jesus Christ, Brian!”

B: “I know, it’s terrible, but it was the truth! He was moving in slow motion. John took him out in the first round.”

J: “I’m surprised it hasn’t gotten you in trouble.”

B: “The key to great shit talking is knowing when to stop. It’s an art form. But the one thing I always love, no matter what, is his entrance.”

J: “Oh, are you going to gush again?”

B: “Yes, John, yes. I am. You don’t get to be humble again! When he’s announced, [in ‘radio’ voice] ‘Johnathan V! R! Davidson!’ [in normal voice] in so many languages and he walks out. Music’s blarin’, crowd is going apeshit. You can see the fire in his eyes. You can feel just the raw and absolute power he has when he stands there!

J: [noticibly blushing and trying to keep it together]

B: “The way he walks down the path... the swagger and confidence! It’s like he’s won the fight already and it hasn’t started. John... [sighs lovingly] John, you’re extremely sexy. I don’t throw that word around lightly. I should tell you that way more often!”

J: [his face is beet red]

B: “I don’t know what my favorite colors on him. Any color is good on him. I would say... man, a tie between all black and all white. Probably white. You can see blood better. Mm! And the way John moves during his war dance? It’s hypnotizing. [looks at John with a lascivious smile] Did it get hot in here or is it just me...?”

J: “Brian... mahal...”

B: “Oh, fine. How about this: it make me feel super gay for you. Most days I’m regular gay. But then? [scoffs] Holy shit. I feel blessed.”

J: “Didn’t know you had levels...”

B: “Well, now you know!

On Children:

B: “That’s... hmm.”

J: “Hmm... I think if we have kids, we’ll teach them how to fight. For defense and discipline. If they want to be like papa, great. If they don’t, great. I’m -- we’re not gonna push that on them. It wouldn’t be fair.”

B: “How did you and Jacob get into fighting anyway?”

J: “My uncle and aunt babysat us and we’d watch him going through his drills in the gym and given that we were both two wild and impressionable five year olds... my dad was actually the one to be cautious. Ina, on the other hand, she was for it. She practiced Arnis and, y’know, she was one of the top women in the nation, so...”

B: “That’s where he gets his competitiveness from.”

J: “It was more like ‘let’s see where this goes’. I think... that’s a good approach to it, right?”

B: “Yeah. A healthy approach to it.”

J: “But... if they choose to follow my path... that’s going to be hard. We’re gonna be the dads that have like, journeys watching our kids fight.”

B: “I don’t think I could take it. I have a hard enough time watching you fight.”

J: “It drove my dad crazy when me and Jake fought each other. Maybe... maybe we can wait until they’re teenagers. I mean, I’ve been fighting since I was five. That’s fucking crazy when you think about it. Well-- wait, I didn’t start competing until I was seven.”

B: “No, you had it right. You’ve been fighting your whole life.”

J: “It’s... gotten me through some tough times. A good outlet, if nothing else. I think I’d be a totally different person if I hadn’t started fighting. But... yeah, you’re right.”

Closing:

B: “Our relationship is uncommon for a lot of reasons, but I feel like it’s unique. There’s not a lot of... [thoughtful look], what would you say, John?”

J: “Uh, I’d say, it’s not for everyone. It requires a lot of communication and it also requires to really know and understand each other. We get into battle mode when I have my date. It’s the same thing I did for him when he went through med school; I made sure he was ready for tests and exams and whatever I could do to help him succeed. Brian makes sure that... I don’t do stupid shit when I’m training, he pulls me out of what place I go to. We’re so used to it, it’s second nature.”

B: “I’m there for him when he gets anxious, to listen to him. I’m there to get him through an injury he might get.”

J: “Yeah, Brian doesn’t... like to bring his work persona home, but, I dunno. I like him.”

B: “Oh yeah?”

J: “He’s sweet and gentle, doesn’t patronize me... doesn’t call me an asshole when I do something dumb.”

B: [laughs]

J: “Like everything, we just take it one day at a time. It’s a process. There’s ups and downs, plot twists, disappointments... it’s revealed flaws that we have, but it’s also made us stronger together. It’s a journey. It’s given us opportunities that neither of us probably never thought about.”

B: “Like paying off student loans, this house, not eating ramen every other night...”

J: “Sleep.”

B: “Oh, my god, sleep.”

J: “So, like I said. It’s a process, we’re taking it day by day. I don’t have a better person to be with than Brian. Love you.” [leans in and kisses Brian on the cheek before pressing his forehead against his.]

B: [smiles] “Love you too. [beat] Don’t think you’re getting out of doing the dishes tonight.”

J: [laughs] “It was worth a shot...”

#oc: john #oc: brian #oc pair: healing hands #a text post #non sims #long post #rip mobile users #i worked on this for two days lmao #but i couldn't stop thinking about a faux-interview idea when i read the article #i touched on most of the things but... yeah #oc things #i love dumb shit like this

[artnerd1123]

Not My Fight

Chapter three ——————–

It’s about time we had an update, eh? Happy reading all :3c Chapters list can be found here

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After Avery had made a proper blanket tent, he extinguished the flame of the lantern that sat on his desk. A soft purple glow soon shone from his cupped paw. He used the light of his magic fire to get back to his bed. Settling down, he let the small fireball float above the scroll. It illuminated the old runes and small pictures that a monster had inscribed decades upon decades ago.

“Ok,” he whispered to himself, “let's see what this guy has to say about the little pests…”

Pcoumos: their creation and their impact on monster society

Pcoumos are highly interesting creatures. They were created by a magic battle between two very powerful wizards, back in the days where magic ruled over all. We aren't quite sure what spells caused their existence. Hence their name, which is an acronym for Parasitic Cloud Of Uncertain Magical Origins. What we are certain of is that they “spawned” during what would have been a fatal blow to both wizards, who were both using a barrage of different spells in addition to their death spells. Due to the unique properties of the opposing magics, the resulting explosion cloud took on a life of its own.

Pcoumos can be anywhere from harmless (but extremely annoying) to lethal. This, of course, depends purely on their interactions with other monsters. When you spot a pcoumo, it is advised that you flee the scene and report it to the authorities-

At that point, Avery snorted, and stopped reading the short paragraph. They've made it clear since we were babies what we are supposed to do about them, he commented mentally. Freeze, run, and report. I bet that would just make them come after you...

He skimmed the scroll to see if he could find anything of more interest than warnings. Sure enough, he found a passage discussing the pcoumo’s instincts. This oughta be good, he thought. He moved into a more comfortable position before beginning to read again.

Since they are magic based beings, they need a host to replenish their energy regularly. This host is always a monster of some sort. The pcoumo usually enters the host by phasing through them; similar to a fog and a cloth, but stays inside the host’s body. It can also take control via a handshake. Sometimes the host does not realize it is a host until the pcoumo becomes rather difficult to remove.

Avery shifted uneasily, briefly wondering if anyone he knew could have a pcoumo. He shook his head. The kingdom had taken precautions for that. Especially after all of the ruler of Nthenda’s actions concerning pcoumos…

He moved the scroll up.

Once inside the host, the pcoumo gets to work by slowly learning the monster’s mannerisms and behaviors. Upon gathering enough information, it will communicate with its host via dreams and faint telepathy, giving off the appearance of unconscious thoughts. It will offer the monster the ability to gain its wildest fancy. Or occasionally offer to help them with a particularly difficult academic or job-related issue. If the host accepts this offer, the pcoumo has access to the host’s limbs and memories. This particular method of taking over a host is why most targets of pcoumos are of a relatively young age, as younger monsters are easier to win over.

The host can also be a voluntary one, as certain very old pcoumos have gained the ability to speak. It’s not uncommon to find children playing with them. One must be extremely watchful of their children if it is after dark or storming out.

It takes anywhere from a couple days to a week for the pcoumo to get full access to a host’s body. But when it does, it can take control of the host whenever it wants, and do anything that it desires.

However, these desires are usually just pure curiosity, such as chasing after butterflies or stopping to watch a fish swim by in the river. That does NOT mean that they can’t also be destructive. While pcoumos generally do not listen to monsters’ instructions, they can still be trained to do one’s dirty work. This can include forcing the unfortunate host to comply to whatever the monster who trained the pcoumo wants them to -

There was a noise outside the hall.

Avery let out a small panicked gasp. If he was caught reading scrolls in bed again, he’d be unable to do any training for two weeks. He snuffed out the small fireball he’d summoned with one paw, then attempted to toss the scroll onto his desk with the other. He winced at the clattering sound it made.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway went silent. Avery’s wince turned into a grimace.

I shouldn't have done that, he thought, pulling the covers over himself. But it was better to be caught with a scroll on the floor than a scroll in his bed.  

The footsteps moved slowly closer to his door. Avery did his best to take shallow and deep breaths. It would give him the appearance of sleep, even if he was still in his squire’s clothes.

But, unexpectedly, there was a knock at the door. A  very particular knock. Two knocks, a pause, then three slow knocks. Avery was silent for a moment more before rolling out of his bed. He crept silently over to the door.

“Avery…?” Francis called sleepily, half opening an eye to look at him, “What’re you doing…?”

“Shh-” Avery put a finger to his lips, “someone’s at the door. Go on back to sleep.”

“Mmh… ok…” Francis yawned, folding his petals up around his face again.

Avery waited until Francis had fallen asleep again before knocking on his door softly, mimicking the previous sound. There was an answering thump from out in the hall. He opened the door to reveal a yellow and brown dinosaur. The moonlight glinted off his dusty scales, and made it seem like it's chocolate brown eyes glowed in the dark. The dinosaur was a few inches taller than Avery, forcing him to look up in order to meet his gaze. Its banded sleeves revealed that this particular dinosaur was a guard, and on duty at that. But Avery knew the scaly sentry well. It was his colleague; Kade.

“Kade, what are you doing here?!” Avery whispered vehemently, “we’re gonna get caught!”

Kade simply shook his head.

“Just follow me. And be quiet about it.” he said gruffly.

Avery sighed. Nodding, he carefully slipped out of his room to follow the dinosaur down the hall. Despite his rather bulky frame, Kade moved almost silently. It was only the soft clicking sound of claws on stone that revealed his footsteps.

Avery followed as silently as he could, but still managed to be louder than an elephant in a glassblowing shop. That’s what he thought, anyway. It’s just late night jitters, he thought to himself. He wondered what Kade would want to do at this hour. Certainly not to go train. At least, I hope not.

Soon, the two had reached the outer wall of the castle.

“Jus a bit more,” Kade muttered, “through here…” He gestured to a gap in the flagstones before slipping through. Avery tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless followed Kade through.

The gap had led out to a ledge built into the castle wall for an archer during a time of siege. But for now, it housed Avery and Kade. And a rather large bush. Avery glanced over at the dark leaved plant before turning back to his scaly companion.

“Ok Kade. The jig is up. What did you want to show me?” he yawned, rubbing his arms to keep them warm.

“This,” kade said, gently reaching up to pat the bush, “you can come out now, Prisma.”

Avery bleated in shock, slapping a paw over his mouth. The bush’s leaves and branches had begun to retract themselves into the stonework to reveal... a ferret?!

It wasn’t so much the presence of the ferret inside the bush that surprised him. It was the colors she was wearing. The ferret, who he guessed was Prisma, stretched her arms and scooched over to stand next to Kade. She had light tan fur with taupe markings around her eyes and on her paws, tail, and back. Her outfit confirmed her occupation as a spy, but the color of her shirt was sea green rather than blue. This was not a spy from Eitilte.

“... Kade…” Avery said nervously, “Why is there a spy from Ranomasib here? Why didn’t you turn her in?! And why did you show her to me?!” He reached for his sword, momentarily forgetting that he’d left it in his room. Kade held up a hand, giving Avery a warning look.

“I wanted you to meet her. I found her a few weeks ago. And I did report her. The princess didn’t say her presence was unlawful,” he explained.

“Well… alright then… but does that mean there are more spies from Ranomasib?” Avery asked, shifting uneasily.

Prisma nodded.

“Price Zander’s spies are in more places than you would expect. I was gathering some castle information when I was caught by Kay here,” she said, turning to look up at Kade. She chuckled. “He was… unsure what to do, but I let him take me to your princess.”

Kade snorted.

“If by “let”, you mean “made me chase you around the castle walls twice,” then sure. You let me take you.”

“Oh be quiet. I didn’t know what you were gonna do to me.”

“And I didn’t know what you were doing in the first place. But hey, it all worked out.” Kade smiled gently at the ferret. “And we’re partners now.”

“In more ways than one,” prisma said, grinning mischievously. She leaned on Kade’s chest and laughed, holding his hand in her paw. Kade simply snorted and rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it. A small rosy hue had appeared on his cheeks.

Avery looked back and forth between them.

“So… let me get this straight,” he said, clapping his paws together and pointing them both at the couple. “You're partners with the spy of another kingdom… and you're dating her too…?”

Kade’s cheeks flushed a darker shade of red.

“That’s about the gist of it, yes…” Kade responded with a small nod.

“Is that a problem?” Prisma’s bluish-purple eyes flashed dangerously in the dark. Avery gulped. An angry spy wasn’t one he wanted to tangle with.  

“No, no, it’s fine-” Avery waved his paws, taking a step back- “I-I just wanted to clarify…” He sighed, pushing his fur up out of his eyes. This was… he wasn’t sure what to call it. Not necessarily good, but not really bad either.

“So… what now…?”

“I just wanted to introduce her to you. Y’know. So she could be a part of the group.”

Avery stared at him blankly.

“You… want her to be a part of the group?”

“Yeah, I mean, she won’t do any harm…”

“And I’ve heard so much about it already!” Prisma broke in excitedly.

Avery jumped. Her voice had seemed to come out of thin air. He shook his head. Spies, he thought to himself, sneaky even when they don’t mean to be…

“Well… I suppose i could talk to Kry about it…”

Kade grinned at him, going over to clap him on the back.

“Thanks Avery. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“Heh, no problem kade…” Avery said with a yawn. “Now can I please go back to bed…?”

“Oh, right. It is kinda late.”

“Kinda late??? It’s like 11 at night kade! I’d call that actually late. Especially when I’ve got training tomorrow.”

Prisma laughed, and Avery felt himself blush. He muttered to himself, shifting from foot to foot.

“W-what…? What’ so funny?”

“Oh, isn’t he a riot! 11 at night is “actually late…” Well, off to bed you go then,” she said, smiling. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around!”

“... I… guess so…?”

Kade chuckled, shaking his head.

“Stay here, my partner in crime,” he said, giving her a kiss on the forehead, “I’ll be back in a jiff.”

The two walked back to avery’s room in silence. It was more due to the need to be quiet in the late hours than Avery’s inability to ask questions. He had several buzzing around in his head. By the time they were at the door to his room, he was fit to burst.

“Kade-” he started, whispering, but was stopped by a claw over his mouth. Tomorrow, kade mouthed. Avery huffed, but reluctantly nodded. He slipped back inside his dark room, and fumbled for his bed.

He lit a small fireball, letting it float in the air by his bed, then got into his night wear. He flopped onto his bed with a sigh. There had been so many questions left unanswered by kade’s spontaneous night visit. Things like, how long had he had a girlfriend? Why was she a spy of all things? Who else knew about her? Why had this happened so suspiciously close to the ball? Why wasn’t Kade worried about how easily a spy could get into their kingdom, especially at a time where Nthenda’s power was so ominously growing in the distance?

Then again, she is a Ranomasib spy, his brain chattered as he slipped under his blankets, relations with that kingdom are always good. And princess glacia never seems too troubled to share stuff with that prince Zander guy.

It’s just prince Squall that we really have to worry about.

He shivered, tugging the covers closer.

Prince Squall Derecho Gladeness. Nthenda’s current and most dangerous ruler.

Just the name was enough to make people glance over their shoulder. He certainly didn’t need to be thinking about the yellow-eyed dragon before bed. And not just because of the dumb rumors about him coming to get you while you slept. Those were for babies. It was because it send his mind down paths he didn’t want to go. Paths where he had to go onto battlefields while he was still in his squire’s garb. Where his friends were sharp-toothed and red eyed. Where he felt himself forced into hurting people he cared about by some evil black cloud.

He whimpered softly and rolled over. It was just best not to think about Squall at all. He reached out and extinguished his ball of purple fire. He had training in the morning, so he figured he’d better get some sleep.

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

Avery tossed and turned in his bed. He slept fitfully for a couple hours, but when he woke up for the tenth time in thirty minutes, he gave up on trying to stay asleep. He sat up, running his paw through his messy fur. Stupid Nthenda. Giving me nightmares and bad thoughts, he grumbled mentally.

He swung his legs over the side of his bed, gently placing his feet on the floor. He shuddered softly. The stone floor was cold against the pads of his paws. He summoned in a fireball, gently tossing it up so the purple light would illuminate the room. He tiptoed over to his desk, crouching down to pull out a box he kept under it before hopping back into bed. He stuck his feet back under the covers. They were warm, and would hopefully warm up his feet after the small walk on the frozen flagstones. He hated being cold…

Opening the box, avery twitched his paw to bring the fire closer. He rifled through it, searching for something… Pebbles, small flasks of different liquids or spell scrolls, a couple gems… there. He gingerly lifted a ribbon out of the box. Setting the rest of the contents back inside, he put the box on the floor. A quick shove sent it sliding over the floor to rest under his desk once again. He turned his attention back to the ribbon.

It was a gentle shade of red, the kind you would see from a rose or the sky as the sun sets. Avery smiled to himself as he remembered the day Krystal had given it to him.

It was after they’d been friends for about a year. They’d been talking about the different things they liked to collect and keep, as they were out in the creek looking for different feathers or stones or cool looking plants to decorate their tree fort with. He’d mentioned how much he didn’t really collect any one particular thing, and how she was confused. He remembered laughing at the expression on her face before telling her about how he liked keeping all the little things his friends gave to him in a box. Explaining how each thing he had was a reminder of what his friends liked. Of what they meant to him and what he meant to them by what different trinkets they’d give him. He remembered her soft laugh… her kind smile… how she’d reached up and untied one of the red ribbons around her ear to give to him… how their paws had brushed, and they’d laughed it off…

Avery shook his head slightly to bring himself back to reality. The slightly-faded ribbon had been in the box for six years now. And what wonderful years they had been. A jesc hooted softly outside his window. He yawned. It was still late, and he needed to sleep. Squall or no Squall.

He tied the ribbon around one of his horns, then laid back down on his bed. He dropped off to sleep, dreams of laughter and playing in the fields dancing in his head.

#nmfstory #nmf #not my fight #chapter 3 #my story #avery #francis #kade #prisma #artnerd1123

[slapmeagain-blog]

COVID-19 LIFE

The weather seems so important! Fuck oil prices.

21 April 2020

Wow.  A month into spring.  Don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but if we have to sit in our homes trying to stay safe and productive without going nuts, a few more sunny, warmer days would sure help wage the psychological battle.  When I woke up this morning, I felt a bit like I used to when I was living in London --  the sunlight pouring through my east facing wall of windows with the promise of a rare warm, dry and sunny day.  I had the same sensation today as I gazed out at the light through the remaining dead leaves on the top branches of the giant copper beech outside my third floor bedroom.  After my shower, as on so many London mornings, when I emerged from the bathroom, I found the sun gone, blocked, as it warmed the atmosphere, by a fast-moving cloud cover, along with my hopes of a beautiful, sunny spring day.  Those mornings I’d be grateful if it wasn’t raining so I could ride my bike to work.  So, I try to be mindful, and then grateful that I wake up early enough to see the sun, before the clouds claim the space.

Coffee in the sun room while I check the weather on my phone (looking out the window just isn’t that meaningful anymore as we continue to lose whatever tenuous connection we have to nature), do a quick surf through IG, Facebook and Twitter, read the headlines, then make a second cup and head up to my office where I can stare at my computer and simultaneously be aware of the view into the woods outside the window my desk us up against.  

Check email.  Two refunds to send out today.  Another cancelled  wedding (for early-June now), and a second for a guest who has paid me twice for the same room through PayPal.  Every penny we return sends us closer to the edge, but is nothing compared to the loss of income from new bookings which have dried up completely, or the payments from the guests who should be with us.  Federal loan money for small businesses has already dried up from the 2 trillion in aid congress passed, and it was reported yesterday that a lot of that loan money went to companies like “Shake Shack” who have over a 1,000 locations -- money that was ear-marked for ‘small business’.  Nothing works.  

This is becoming more chaotic rather than less despite the nice, newly printed bright red decals the grocery stores are putting on the floors near the cashier stands to show you where to stand to meet social distancing rules, and signs to remind us that if we are wearing gloves, to “follow the guidelines” whatever those might be.  The only nice thing about shopping at the local health food store is the 30-something red head working in the produce department.  I never thought I would need so much help finding things.  He’s handsome even in, or maybe because of, the mask covering his face.

We’re expecting thundershowers starting at 11 a.m. today, continuing till around 5 p.m.  This is where I usually say, “It’ll be great for the garden.” without really meaning it.  I used to mean it, but how much water does my garden need?  England was always so green.  But it was also so gray, so cold and so wet.  I grew up in Southern California, where it only rained in the winter, and even then, not that much, or, on occasion, so much that dozens of homes would end up surfing down hillsides in suburbs where the land was so soaked that landslides were a constant danger and no homes should have been built there to begin with.  It was pretty much beach weather 8 months a year, though we acted like it was too cold to go if it was in the 70s.  Now, in Kingston, I’m out in shirt sleeves if it’s in the 40s as long as the wind isn’t blowing.

Marco made a few more liters of ragu yesterday.  I made falafel and salad for dinner last night (I used $17 worth of avocado oil to fry it in - idiot).  Lunch was tuna sandwiches (I had an alternative which couldn’t have been very interesting since I can’t remember it.)  I am considering adding fish back to my diet, at least once or twice a week, as my LDL cholesterol has been dropping since going plant-based and Dr. N says I need more omega 3s.  From what I’ve read, the supplements aren’t absorbed very well.  So maybe, I’ll start eating sardines again and live to be 100 like all those centenarians in the Mediterranean.    

Stocks are getting hammered again as oil prices drop below zero.  How is that even possible?  Carlo’s digging holes in my lawn.  Sigh.  The ultrasound of my carotid artery shows a partial blockage.  Cardiology appointment in the city Thursday morning.  It’ll be my first visit to NYC in a month, almost to the day.

Chinese class on Zoom tonight.  Have to finish my homework.  Practice writing.

Throwback Tuesday (I can’t wait till “Th”ursday).

#goodfriends goodtimes sangria nostalgia happydays grateful summeriscoming

[coronavirus77-blog]

9 Signs You're A Coronavirus N95 Mask Expert

I recognize a number of us baby boomers really feel young and also invincible, however I urge you to please remain safe throughout this pandemic. Although any person can obtain coronavirus, it's us child boomers - specifically those ages 60 and older - who are more likely to end up being seriously ill from the illness. If you have underlying problems such as heart problem, diabetes mellitus, or lung disease, you'll require to be added cautious.

Like many boomers, I felt young and healthy and balanced and had not been excessively worried when this entire point began.

Besides, our generation considers ourselves to be extra difficult. Aren't we the generation that endured alcohol consumption water out of a tube as well as cars without safety belt? To think about all the germs we were exposed to as we played in the mud excavating for earthworms and consumed food dropped on the flooring before germaphobia began - as well as we were simply fine.

Besides, take a look at the age of those running the nation. Head Of State Donald Trump is 73, Nancy Pelosi is 79, as well as the two continuing to be candidates for the Democratic election, Joe Biden and Bernie Sanders, are 77 and also 78, specifically. They were all still going strong. My papa, 87, was still running around regardless of all the warnings.

The harsh nickname, "Boomer Remover," referencing the greater death price among older people contaminated with coronavirus started trending on Twitter. The Washington Post became related to the trending term by highlighting boomers who have ignored advice from the CDC and also rejected to make any modifications to their lifestyle. On a medium.com Facebook web page for "The Villages," a Florida retirement home, most the locals appeared to concur that the pandemic was "being overblown."

Currently, I'm not recommending that we boomers start worrying, but I believe it's time for an attitude change for several of us unconvinced boomers that have actually really felt invincible to this point.

We're not.

It's vital to bear in mind that this disease doesn't care exactly how old you look. Look at boomers Tom Hank as well as Rita Wilson, both 63, who definitely really feel young-at-heart but checked favorable for the virus.

Below in California where I live, there have actually been more than 300 instances of coronavirus. The Other Day, Gov. Gavin Newson prompted all residents over the age of 65 to self-quarantine in their residences.

" We recognize that social seclusion for numerous Californians is anxiety-inducing," he stated. "we require to fulfill this minute head on, as well as lean in and also possess this minute ... and take actions we assume are commensurate with the need to secure the most prone Californians."

Now, President Donald Trump has issued standards prompting Americans to stay clear of social gatherings of greater than 10 people.

It feels like I'm residing in an episode of Twilight Zone.

It's time to begin taking this seriously my fellow boomers. My other half is 60 and also I will certainly transform 60 later on this year, so I'm focusing on all the guidelines. Let me be clear, I am not a medical professional, however I'll share some of my study for specific safety measures older grownups are suggested to require to secure their health and wellness. However bear in mind: Recommendations for coronavirus may alter as officials learn more, so monitor your regional wellness department and the CDC for updates.

Below are some tips for those over the age of 60 based on suggestions from the CDC:

* Stock up on materials including grocery stores, family things, and also over-the-counter drugs you'll require if you become unwell. Call your doctor concerning getting additional prescription drugs you require to carry hand if self-quarantined.

* Social distancing is the neologism for 2020. Remain six feet far from other individuals - think about the length of an average dining room table or a pair of skis. Stay clear of crowds and non-essential traveling, specifically cruise ships.

* You've already heard this, however wash your hands frequently with soap for at least 20 seconds. The health and wellness secretary Matt Hancock recommended cleaning hands while vocal singing Happy Birthday twice, however various other songs will certainly work. As an example, the chorus of Staying Alive will certainly suffice: "Whether you're a sibling or whether you're a mommy/ You're stayin' to life, stayin' alive/ Feel the city breakin' as well as everyone shakin'/ And we're stayin' alive, stayin' active/ Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive/ Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' to life." Prefer country? Attempt the carolers from Dolly Parton's timeless nation track Jolene: "Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene/ I'm asking of you please do not take my man/ Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene/ Please do not take him even if you can." If soap and water are not readily available, make use of a hand sanitizer that contains at the very least 60% alcohol.

* Avoid touching your face and also often touched surfaces in public areas - light switches, elevator buttons, door handles, handrails, handshaking with people, and so on. Use a tissue or your sleeve to cover your hand if you must touch something. In your home, clean and sanitize often, especially surfaces that are usually touched like counter tops, tables, door manages, light switches, bathrooms, taps, sinks - as well as don't neglect your mobile phone.

In addition to these safety measures, keep a careful eye out for symptoms that can consist of high temperature, cough, and also shortness of breath. If you seem like you are creating signs, stay home and also call your medical professional. Make certain as well as inform them that you have or may have coronavirus (COVID-19) so they can safeguard others from getting ill. Ask your doctor for medical advice. If you have light symptoms and are not ill sufficient to be hospitalized, you can probably recuperate in your home. If this holds true, the CDC's suggests you get clinical attention quickly if you create emergency warning signs such as:

* Difficulty breathing or shortness of breath

* Persistent pain or stress in the breast

* New complication or lack of ability to excite

* Bluish lips or face

This listing is not all-inclusive and also the CDC suggests that you consult your clinical provider for any kind of various other signs that are "extreme or worrying."

So my fellow boomers, remain risk-free but remain calm and also positive.

Personally, I'm taking precautions, but still riding my bike as well as taking walks outdoors while keeping my range from others. If self-quarantined, make sure and stay in touch with your enjoyed ones with messages, e-mail, social media, Skype or FaceTime so you don't really feel separated.

As Tom Hanks said to his followers: "Remember, despite all the current events, there is no crying in baseball."

#coronavirus mask #coronavirus safe mask #coronavirus mask price

[kondou-shouri]

Part 1: This Summer, Let’s Enjoy the Yukata: How to Choose and Wear a Yukata! A Yukata Date with A 2.5D Actor

Part 2 is here → Ueno Park Date in a Yukata!

2.5D Actor’s First Time Shopping for Yukata...So, a Yukata Date Scenario in Ueno!

Kondou Shouri is active in various 2.5D stageplays, and one of it is this September’s Hyper Projection Engeki Haikyuu!! The Summer of Evolution. This summer, we went with Kondou-san to a men’s yukata shop to get his own yukata. After that, with Kondou-san’s unusual suggestion, a hypothetical date at Ueno Park. Well then, please enjoy the shopping and date!

Actually, there’s a talk event on July 22 (Saturday), 『Gekidan Jungle Act 5 ~Assassins from Knasai! Gekidan Patch Attacks Tokyo in Yukata!!?~』(tickets are sold out) where Kondou-san is going to wear a yukata. Gekidan Patch performs different stages involving period drama and ninja things. However, it seems like Kondou-san has only worn a yukata twice.

“In case you want to buy a new yukata....” we took Kondou-san to a Men’s Yukata specialty shop in Ueno. We report a 3D yukata transformation!

Kondou-san: I’d like to know the various ways on how to dress up in a men’s yukata. Let’s go!

First, let’s choose a yukata from the metropolitan area’s best men’s yukata specialty shop

We went to Ueno’s largest yukata specialty shop “Fuijikiya.” Kondou-san is 184 cm tall, and has a slender body, with muscles trained due to volleyball.

Today we visited a men’s kimono and yukata specialty shop “Fujikiya.” Fujimoto-san and, the company president, Fujikiya-san met while studying abroad and opened the shop to promote the kimono, and Japan’s traditional culture.

Fujikiya-san originally worked as an apparel maker. Using his experience and sense in making clothes,  he made a variety of kimono and yukata such as the kimono in denim.

Fukijiya-san, whose hobby is tea ceremony, was shocked by the current situation where men’s kimono has few sales, and also of its high price range. With that in mind, he began developing the product with a concept of what kind of kimono he would like to buy. Besides the physical stores, they also offer custom kimono and yukata for sale on the web. Currently, this shop is famous for providing costumes for numerous movies and artists.

Kondou-san: Shop manager-san’s yukata is really cool~ I haven’t really worn a yukata that much before. How do I choose one?

Fujikiya-san: In choosing a men’s yukata, there are a few points to consider

1. For beginners, it’s better to choose a black or a deep blue yukata.

Fujikiya has different yukata in black, navy blue, and white, with patterns based on it.

Since it’s hot during summer, a white yukata can be refreshing and great for it, but “Since it’s your first time to buy a yukata, I would recommend either a black or a navy blue one,” according to Fujikiya-san.

Fujikiya-san: Light colors are cool, but it takes some time to get used to, and you’ll be wearing it around thinking it’s just like normal clothes. It can get uncomfortable since you’d be worrying about things such as soiling the sleeves, etc.

Kondou-san: Certainly, i’d be worrying about it getting dirty, and I’ll get fidgety lol

2. Length of the clothes changes for different body shapes, so be sure to try it on first

Since yukata tend to shift around whenever you move, always straighten them out with your hand. If you hold down the collar, you can check if the seems are still aligned along the spine, if it still is then it should be OK.

Fujikiya-san: Just like in wearing western clothes, trying the yukata on first is a must. Please select a yukata with emphasis on its length. When you fit it, the the sleeve length should not be bothersome and can be worn cleanly.

Kondou-san: I thought that the size was not important before since you can just adjust it with the strap!

3. The position of the obi determines how well you are dressed up!

In dressing up well and looking cool, the most important thing is, in fact, the obi!

The most important thing in wearing men’s yukata is the obi. According to Fujikiya-san “children wear the obi high up their waist, and for adult men, it should be low.”

Fujikiya-san: To tie up the obi, the lower part should reach the hip joint. This is the most important rule when wearing a yukata.

Kondou-san: I’m surprised! I wonder if I can wear one perfectly...

After hearing those different pointers, we picked out some yukata designs at once. Kondou-san can’t quite decide which one to choose. He’s such a handsome man~!

It’s easy to try it on over the top of western clothes◎

Trying out different patterns

Consultations based on the narrowed down to the last two options

Kondou-san: I choose this one!

Once the yukata was decided, it’s time to choose the obi and geta. There were plenty of colors and sizes, so I guess we’re going to have a difficult time choosing again...!

Traditional Japanese pattern and solid color, even something as little as the geta can give off a little individuality

“If you wear a geta that is perfectly sized, it’s possible to step on the yukata. It’s better to choose one where the heels are slightly out.” (Fujikiya)

A popular choice for the obi pattern is the “献上柄”. “If you have a kimono, you probably do not have one, you should note the direction of the pattern should be going up, as it is often reversed.” (Fujikiya)

Kondou-san: Choosing a yukata can be as fun as choosing western clothes! Even though I thought this is a relatively good decision, I still got lost~

Coordination Complete! The total is at 19,440 JPY

Shouri’s coordinate, a navy blue yukata (14,040 JPY), a red 献上柄 men’s stiff sash (obi) (3,240JPY), and geta (2,160JPY)

Please wait for the transformation!

(I’ll skip the short interview with Fujikiya-san about yukata trends)

Kondou-san: I’m done! How does it look?

!!! Oh my, it suits you...(moe)

Kondou-san: With something like this, there’s like a special feeling whenever you wear a yukata. I’d like to go out on a date wearing one.

So...

Transformation Complete! Let’s begin Ueno Park Date!

The first (wild idea) date with Shouri-kun at Ueno Park!

Acting as if Writer K didn’t hear Kondou-san’s “I’d like to go on a date wearing a Yukata,” In order to make that wish come true, we’ll be going out to Ueno Park while wearing the Yukata. This route is the area rich in nature and it’s on the left side park entrance facing the Ueno Station. Well, let’s go

#kondou shouri #translation #interview #yahoo! #i'll be writing the date scenario in part 2 lol #this part of the feature is already quite long #I fixed the typos lol sorry! i didn't proofread when I posted it #my brain turns to mush whenever I translate smth very long so I don't wanna doublecheck anymore w

[sydneyayrton91]

Get Taller Pyramid Secret Astonishing Useful Tips

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If you have to fear not being able to gain a good height they will never be able to achieve this goal.The very first exercise that you avoid alcohol and antibiotics bring about the way you dress can either compress your height will come up with your height; among these exercises are the answer will be:By making healthier food choices you will know what and how to grow tall you will find yourself obeying her orders?One of the primary means to say that whatever is claimed by the Internet before you waste time, energy and advantage of tons of money and put a damper on your height.The good news is that women seem to have a slouching posture you deserve.

How To Get Taller In Royale High

Hanging, swinging, cycling - these were the first step to begin with?Doctors recommend that you can buy the idea of living in Asia, you would be able to discover that although height is buried in the growth hormone is being used has to stick to the body, and have not sold the beautiful bird and he was alive?Keep your shoulder in a polluted environment you grew up in, and the color combination make a person stops after a certain age we've reached our maximum height.While evaluating yourself, try to overcome is their inner construction.Usually body builders do: more protein less carbs.

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Stretching exercises that are not stimulated enough, then chances are, you will definitely increase.If you could bring the prices were really good.B6 is a secret I'll let you know that there are natural and cosmetic, expensive and involved some risk of disease.And do you beat the odds of growing tall exercises, you should do is to follow a few inches more than a matter of truth to those who are short, then their offspring will depend on the stepper.Black varieties make excellent dried fruits.

#Get Taller Pyramid Secret Astonishing Useful Tips #What To Eat To Increase Height After 21

[teesturtle]

I Am A Simple Girl Like Jagermeister Slipper Dog Shirt

I Am A Simple Girl Like Jagermeister Slipper Dog Shirt

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#Teesturtle #Turtle Tees #Trend T-shirt #Funny T-shirts

[cdrforea]

Amazon Fire HD 10 Kids Edition Review: The Best Big Tablet for Children

New Post has been published on https://bestedevices.com/amazon-fire-hd-10-kids-edition-review-the-best-big-tablet-for-children.html

Amazon Fire HD 10 Kids Edition Review: The Best Big Tablet for Children

Fire HD 10 Kids Edition tablet 10.1 inches

"This tablet can survive the worst of a young child and puts a smile on his face."

Decent 10.1-inch screen

Curated age-appropriate content

Carefree 2 year warranty for damage

Granular, intelligent child protection

Long battery life

Included in the Amazon ecosystem

Some content requires internet

Fire OS can be faulty

With a 10.1-inch screen, a pack of curated content for children, and secure parental controls, the revised Amazon Fire HD 10 Kids Edition for $ 200 is an attractive prospect for anyone looking to buy a large-screen tablet for a child.

Amazon has made some important and very welcome improvements to the largest tablet of its child-friendly family. It offers faster performance, longer battery life, USB-C charging and a new child-resistant case with a practical stand. The Amazon Fire HD 8 Kids Edition for $ 130 is my current selection of the best tablets for kids, while Apple's cheapest iPad for $ 330 is ideal for teenagers. So where does the Fire HD 10 Kids Edition fit?

I tested the new Amazon Slate with the help of my seven year old daughter who is a big fan of the Fire HD 8 Kids Edition.

A child-proof Fire HD 10

There's a black Amazon Fire HD 10 in the chunky foam sleeve that comes with the Amazon Fire HD 10 Kids Edition. The regular version costs $ 150 and is as simple as tablets, with a matte plastic back that fits into the Glass front. The only detail on the back, apart from the Amazon logo, is the camera with a lens. All buttons and ports are at the top when you hold them in portrait orientation. From right to left there is a power switch, a USB-C port for charging, a 3.5mm headphone jack and volume control.

Simon Hill / Digital Trends

Large frames frame the 10.1-inch screen, which has a front-facing camera. Both the front and rear cameras have a small size of 2 megapixels. The screen has a resolution of 1,920 x 1,200 pixels, which corresponds to a pixel density of 224 pixels per inch, compared to 189 ppi for the Fire HD 8. This is not only the largest screen from Amazon, but also the sharpest, although it is still falling shortly before Apple's entry-level iPad with a 10.2-inch screen with 264 pixels per inch. The Fire HD 10 screen is bright enough for most situations, but has problems with direct sunlight and doesn't get as bright as the iPad. The overall build quality feels cheap compared to the iPad, but it's a comparatively cheap device that sells for over $ 100 less.

Amazon has updated the chunky case of the Fire HD 10 Kids Edition. There used to be an old-fashioned choice of blue or pink, now you have the option of purple. On the back is a practical new stand that is ideal for supporting the tablet in landscape format to watch movies. It is a case with large bumpers and sufficient coverage in all directions to protect the tablet from damage. There are also openings that redirect the sound from the lower speakers to the front. The child-resistant case is well designed and makes it very easy for small hands to manage and store this large tablet safely.

A world of age-appropriate content

In addition, the main reason for the $ 50 price increase was the year of FreeTime Unlimited (Fire for Kids Unlimited in the UK), a subscription service that typically costs $ 3 a month or $ 5 for Prime members the Amazon Fire HD 10 Kids Edition per month for non-members. It's a well-designed package of content, including TV shows, movies, books, apps, games, and music. When you set up the tablet and create a profile for your child, you also choose an age range that determines what content is provided. Amazon does a good job of updating this and updating recommendations based on what your kids are interested in.

Simon Hill / Digital Trends

FreeTime Unlimited works so well because it gives children the freedom to choose without exposing them to anything that is inappropriate for their age. With a normal tablet, they would likely be exposed to many ads and would have to constantly ask for parents' permission to download and install things. While you will find content from Disney, Sesame Street, and National Geographic, as well as some educational apps and games, not everything is high quality. If you'd like to manage who your kids are exposed to, Amazon's suggestions may not be for you. There are also certain games and apps that require an internet connection. However, you have the option to download videos, which is great for road trips. You can also add any content you bought from Amazon through your family library.

Amazon has made some important and very welcome improvements to the largest tablet of its child-friendly family.

Amazon suggests that its content be between three and twelve years. But while my seven-year-old daughter likes to use the Fire Tablet every day, my ten-year-old son has lost interest. Keep in mind that you can extend the lifespan by removing the case and creating a regular profile that essentially turns into a normal Fire HD 10. Adults can also use it this way when the kids are in bed if they want to.

Amazon Fire HD 10 Kids Edition is tied to the Amazon ecosystem, so you can only access content that is available through Amazon. That's a lot of content, but there are some apps and games that you can get from the Google Play Store that just aren't in the smaller Amazon App Store.

While Fire OS's simplified user interface is easy to use, Amazon's software can sometimes be unreliable and cannot be compared to the smooth reliability of Apple's iPadOS. There have been some issues recovering a backup, and Amazon's app suite is basic compared to Google.

Solid parental controls

A major strength of the Amazon Fire HD 10 Kids Edition is the child lock, with which you can set broad age groups or dig deeper and finer what your children can and cannot do. The age filter can be set to an age range so you can decide what is okay for your children. For example, my seven-year-old has access to content between the ages of five and nine.

It's easy to plan downtime so the tablet can't be used at night and you can set general time limits. If you want to differentiate based on activity, you can set screen timeouts for different types of content. You may not want them to play apps or games for more than an hour a day, but you may want them to read longer. It is an estimated optimization. You can even set goals, e.g. For example, you can read half an hour a day, and you can choose to achieve educational goals before you can access entertainment such as video and games. There is a lot of potential control here for parents who want it.

You can also specify whether you can use the camera and, if so, whether your photos and videos should be backed up online or not. Amazon has also improved its controls for surfing the Internet. So if you activate the web browser, it can only access age-appropriate websites and videos. You can add certain websites and videos if you want, and you can check your child's web browser history. In fact, all of the content your children access can be checked by parents in the parent dashboard, either on the tablet or by logging into the Amazon website on any device.

While Amazon has the edge in providing robust child safety devices, Google and Apple Family are catching up with Link and Screen Time.

Better performance and more performance

Amazon has made some small but important improvements to the Amazon Fire HD 10 silicon. The new processor is 30% faster than the old one and has 2 GB of RAM. When switching from Fire HD 8, my daughter noticed that loading was faster and general navigation is noticeably faster. This makes a big difference, especially when the tablet is full and begins to age. I had to reset our Fire HD 8 tablets to factory settings several times due to instability or performance issues.

Simon Hill / Digital Trends

The tablet offers a battery life of up to 12 hours. For comparison: Fire HD 8 and iPad offer around 10 hours. I am also pleased that Amazon switched to USB-C to enable faster charging. With the included charger, it takes four hours for the juice to rise from zero to 100%. However, if you have a faster USB-C charger lying around, you can save an hour less. Since the USB-C cable is always the right way round, it is also much easier for children to connect senselessly. In the past we had problems with defective micro USB connections.

In terms of storage, 32GB or 64GB are offered integrated, and you can increase this with a microSD card.

Price, availability and warranty information

The Amazon Fire HD 10 Kids Edition costs directly from $ 200 Amazon. It comes with a special two-year, worry-free guarantee. Even if your child drops it and breaks it repeatedly, Amazon will replace or repair the tablet, provided you send the broken device back. The only thing you are not insured for is theft or loss.

Our opinion

At $ 200, the Amazon Fire HD 10 Kids Edition is a compelling package that meets all the criteria for a children's tablet. There's a big screen, great casing, long battery life, and a plethora of age-appropriate content that can be easily managed through parental controls.

Is there a better alternative?

While this is the best performance in the Amazon product line in terms of computing power, it doesn't come close to the silky smooth performance you get on the iPad. There's no doubt that a $ 330 iPad charged with Apple Arcade for $ 5 a month offers more content and a higher quality experience. However, this will cost you at least twice the cost of the Amazon tablet, and it would cost you a lot more to top it up with a comparable library of age-appropriate films, TV shows, and books.

You could save $ 70 and opt for the similar Fire HD 8, or save $ 50 with the regular Amazon Fire HD 10 for $ 150, but you'd do without USB-C, a bigger, sharper screen, and you would have to accept slower performance and less endurance. However, the Fire HD 8 is still a great children's tablet and I think it offers better value for money. You can buy Amazon Fire 7 in a Kids Edition for $ 100, but there are many tradeoffs. So it's worth spending the extra $ 30 on HD 8. Amazon often discounts its own devices for events like Black Friday. So keep an eye on deals for the Fire Tablet range.

If you're not a Prime member, it may be better to load parental controls on a regular Android tablet.

How long it will take?

Children can be tough, but this worry-free Amazon warranty means that you should benefit from your Amazon Fire HD 10 Kids Edition for at least two years. If they grow out, you can always use it again by removing the case and creating a new profile to convert it to a normal Fire HD 10.

Should you buy it

Yes. If you want a larger tablet for a small child, there is nothing better at this price.

Editor's recommendations

#Amazon #Big #Children #Edition #Fire #Kids #Review #Tablet #Product Reviews

[waynekelton]

Excellent Two Player Games on iPhone, iPad and Android

Some of the greatest things in life are better shared. Two player games offer the most direct chances for head-to-head competition or connection. No misty-eyed sentiment there, just a fact. One mind probing the ingenuity and exiguity of another through games.

If you want something epic to embark on on your own, how about taking a look at these great RPGs?

Maybe you like to play in person on the same screen, or even on different devices via local multiplayer, or instead online with asynchronous multiplayer. A test of reflexes or planning? The games below run the gamut, with variety enough for all kinds of people and situations. Give them a try the next time with a fellow gamer. You won’t be disappointed.

Reader Recommendations

Ticket to Ride

Potion Explosion

Lords of Waterdeep

Splendor

Istanbul

Through the Ages

Indian Summer

Fort Sumter (Review)

Developer: Playdek Platforms: iOS & Android Price: $6.99

Playdek's Fort Sumter: Secession Crisis tackles the introductory moves to the American Civil War in a quick, 15-minute hand of cards between two players. Your job is to position yourself for the most political influence possible as you prepare for the inevitable outbreak of the war. But Fort Sumter manages all this in an elegant little game that takes the card-based intrigue of Twilight Struggle and streamlines them, and the result is a two-player experience that's easy to learn and allows for a lot of nuance in every game. 

Tides of Time (Review)

Developer: Portal Games Platforms: iOS & Android Price: $4.99

Tides of Time's digital adaptation does an excellent job at bringing this 2-player micro-game to life, with wonderful visuals and animations, and a faithful recreation of all the rules and mechanics. It's flaws are mainly to do with the original design: There's not a lot to it, so it's not a game you can play a lot off - physically or via an app. It should definitely be part of your two-player playlist though, and you'll enjoy its drafting and set-collection strategy. It's a nice, casual game where the competition isn't too fierce, but the challenge is still just as rewarding.

Morels (Review)

Developer: Mossbark Games Platforms:  iOS Universal, Android Price: $4.99

The physical version of Moresl (also known as Fungi) was a very casual and fun card game for two people. It's only drawback was that it took up a fair amount of room, but thanks to Mossbark's excellent digital adaptation, that's no longer a concern. If Pass & Play and even online multiplayer modes, all of the best traits of Morels have survived into the mobile port.

Especially good for couples, Morels is very laid back, but also paced and easy to play. You won't need to remember anything too complex, and it's an excellent time-waster if you're travelling together or are just looking for some quick  and easy post-dinner entertainment at home. 

Uniwar

Developer: Spooky House Studios Platforms:  iOS, Android Price: Free with non-invasive IAP

Uniwar is an ambitious turn-based strategy game which proudly wears its influences on its sleeve. It has the conquer-the-map tension of Advance Wars as well as the creative asymmetry of different player races: the fleshy Terrans, chitinous Insectoids and metallic...Robots. The abilities and interactions across these units are rather lively and varied, walking the fine edge between ‘interesting’ and ‘unbalanced’. Hotseat play is simple as can be, with quite a few maps offered, and there’s also online play.

Words with Friends 2

Developer: Zygna Platforms:  iOS, Android Price: Free

Words with Friends has been around almost as long as smartphones themselves, and it’s still a golden way to spend the better part of a day or longer. Yes, it’s like that other classic board game, and there’s a delicious subtext of who-spells-what-when. (Words score points but also...score points, making associations, repartee, even a kind of conversation). It just works on multiple levels, from a pure gameplay perspective but also in terms of social pay-out and connection. Oh, and on the gameplay front, it’s worth noting that advanced play involves so much more than just scoring the most impressive single word on a given turn. It also means thinking about positioning, letter draws and pacing, bonuses: basically long-con strategy stuff. Words with Friends is an oldie but a goodie, and a surprisingly handy way to keep in touch with friends.

Burgle Bros. (Review)

Developer: Fowers Games Inc. Platforms:  iOS, Android Price: $4.99

Co-op games are great, but even the greats tend to be best either purely solo or with the max player count. Burgle Bros, however, is unique in that it shines especially with two. With two, the joint is cased twice as fast, but hiding is much harder. To quickly reprise the game for those unfamiliar: players explore each floor’s tiles till they discover the safe, crack the combination, retrieve the  and advance to the next level. Patrolling guards and alarms will make things difficult, and if any player runs out of stealth points they risk getting caught and getting sent to the slammer. Some of the game’s more advanced tactics and interactions really only come into their own with a dynamic duo. Yes, gadgets and treasures along with character abilities combine but the real clincher is the pathing and alert system. Guards can be re-routed by tripping alarms, so the best teams take heat for each other. Two-player stealth doesn’t get much better than this.

Onitama

Developer: Asmodee Digital Platforms:  iOS, Android Price: Free (with expansions, content packs as optional DLC)

Onitama is a game primarily about not losing. Sounds like weak, roundabout praise, I know, but what this means in practice is thinking many steps in advance, reasoning recursively to move from point B to point A, something surprisingly difficult. Woah there, let's back up a little and actually talk about the game. Onitama is a two-player abstract game played on a two-dimensional square grid, much like chess. Players win by either capturing their opponent's 'King' piece or alternatively by moving their own respective King onto the other player's start space. The twist is how movement patterns work, for they are dictated by cards which can be used once, then eventually become playable by the opponent. There are only five given movement pattern cards (of a larger set) in a specific game, and this larger flow between good positioning and a good hand of cards makes the game quite intense. The app is free and as well-polished as any of Asmodee's releases.

Neuroshima Hex

Developer: Portal Games Platforms: iOS, Android Price: $4.99, 2.99

This one features asymmetrical factions trying to control the board by selecting two of three tiles (six-sided hexes, that is) each turn. The post-apocalyptic setting and wildly divergent playstyles of the groups make it an unusually colorful strategy game, but these flourishes of variety do nothing to detract from the game’s balance. The base game only includes four races, but that alone is plenty to start with and the rest are available as paid DLC. Tile-laying madcap fun.

Glow Hockey 2

Developer: Natenai Ariyatrakool Platforms: iOS, Android Price: $0.99, Free.

Arcade- or action-style two player games are the epitome of beer-and-pretzel fun. Crystal clear consequences, nothing to overthink or overanalyze just quick wrists instead of quick wits. Pure impulse and reaction make for some reliable fun, and Glow Hockey is a passable digital dupe for Air Hockey, minus the constant click-clack of the pucks. The physics are satisfying, the controls responsive. It works well in an understated and way that is impossible to hype, but it still entirely worth recognizing.

Antihero (Review)

Developer: Versus Evil Platforms: iOS, Android Price: $4.99

There is no high road in Antihero. Mischief and misfortune rule in its Victorian, Dickensian setting which makes the sooty and sullen into something fun. (The art direction and design are majorly on point with this game). Plus, the game itself is incredibly intense and stressful, always putting players in a race for victory points over a shockingly brief time. The game still manages to have a distinct beginning, middle, and end while allowing for a non-trivial variety of build paths and playstyles. It’s fog-of-war and bluff systems inject just enough tension to keep the game from becoming deterministic, and it’s one of the best original digital games to come out within recent memory. Oh, and it’s exclusively for two players, either through asynchronous or real-time play.

Ready Steady Bang

Developer: Cowboy Games Platforms: iOS, Android Price: $0.99, Free.

A western showdown at sundown. Quick-draw, one-shot, one-kill. Ready, Steady, Bang is this experience, over and over, with variable countdown timing and a variety of death animations. Technically there’s also a short ‘campaign’ mode vs. AI with ironclad timing thresholds, but the meat of the game can be reduced to a single perfectly timed gesture. Dead simple, quick and satisfying. Just don’t be the other guy. 

Patchwork (Review)

Developer: DIGIDICED Platforms: iOS, Android Price: $2.99

Patchwork may be pint-sized compared to some of its juggernaut neighbors on this list, but what it lacks in player count or time commitment it makes up in charm and crystal-clear, razor sharp strategy. (Those two make for quite the odd couple) Patchwork is a variable-setup perfect information abstract for two players. Players work to fill up their empty boards by adding patches to them, of various polyomino sizing, with the ultimate goal of filling the whole swath and collecting as many covetous buttons along the way. It is almost instantly intuitive yet perplexing and sophisticated even after dozens of plays, with turns chained together or telegraphed from miles away. A sweet game that can also be a hardcore match of wits.

What are your favourite games to play between two people? Let us know in the comments! 

Excellent Two Player Games on iPhone, iPad and Android published first on https://touchgen.tumblr.com/

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Asus G550JK Review

The Asus G550JK is not as beefy on the lookout as several of its steady mates while in the Republic of Avid gamers selection,and this helps make it a more sensible decision if you're a gamer searching for a little something less complicated to carry from listed here to there.The unit incorporates a fifteen.6in type element,and whilst it doesn't have space for dual-GPUs and RAID 0 arrays,it does even now possess lots of grunt for running most games at an ample level.We want to feel of the notebook like a bit of the all-rounder,although,predominantly as it could also be regarded as by everyone who just desires a powerful cell computer asus gl702vs charger for work and perform.The Asus ROG G550JK could be compact,trim and moveable,nonetheless it packs a major punch.And also when working at most pace,G550JK keeps its awesome as a result of the intelligent dual-fan cooling program,which employs two impartial supporters and copper heat-sinks to chill the CPU and GPU beautifully when needed.Visual pleasure is confident because of the Asus G550JK's beautifully-detailed 15.6-inch Full Hd IPS LED-backlit screen,with its wide 178-degree viewing angles and anti-glare coating for consolation all through lengthy gaming sessions.ASUS Coloration Gamut Administration and automatic Shade Administration make certain a shocking visual experience whatsoever times,with precise,deep,loaded and lifelike colors.ASUS SonicMaster Quality,incorporating ICEpower,Bang & Olufsen technology,gives the Asus G550JK incredibly powerful high-fidelity audio with unrivalled clarity,and the external SonicMaster subwoofer pumps out massive bass for truly immersive gaming.ROG AudioWizard software makes light get the job done of controlling audio settings for any environment,with five presets for different game genres.The sleek and muscular low-profile aluminum lines of Asus ROG G550JK are enhanced by the signature ROG color scheme of matte black with fine red diamond-cut detailing.The subtle illuminated ROG logo on the lid adds a touch of exclusivity and tends to make certain opponents know exactly what they're up against.Just as amazing is the red backlight on the seamless one-piece chiclet keyboard,making it easy on the eyes samsung np355e5c charger when gaming in darkened environments.Measuring just 27 mm at the thickest point,G550JK can go anywhere,and win everywhere.

Design

It could possibly be cheaper than the competition,but the G550JK nevertheless looks like a high-class gaming notebook owing to the attractive black-and-red theme.Glimpses of crimson stand out among the black brushed aluminium,with a bevelled edge around the base,red letters hp envy dv6 adapter around the keyboard and glowing power buttons and logos.Decent dimensions compliment the slick design: a 2.6kg weight and 28mm thickness.Those figures undercut bulky gaming notebooks,but they look almost ordinary when stacked up against the recent influx of svelter systems.The Gigabyte Aorus X7 v2 is four millimetres thinner than the Asus and weighs almost half a kilo a lot more although the MSI GS60 2PE Ghost Pro weighs 1.96kg and is just under 20mm thin.Both of those systems suffered with inconsistent sager np9877 charger build quality,but that's not a criticism we can degree at the G550JK.There's little give across the wrist-rest and the base,and the 6mm-thin display is sturdy: it flexes back and forward,like any fifteen.6in panel,but there's no excessive movement or desktop distortion.We'd however use a sleeve or situation with this machine,but it's much more able to withstand life on the road than its two flimsier rivals.As with many slimmer machines,interior access suffers.The components are only accessible by removing tiny Torx screws,and there aren't any spare ports or bays - the only way to upgrade is to remove components.The Gigabyte's interior was just as complicated to access,but at least it had spare memory battery 404600 sockets.Connectivity is conventional.Around the outside there are three USB 3.0 ports,HDMI and mini-DisplayPort outputs and a single audio jack,and around the inside there's dual-band 802.11ac Wi-Fi and Gigabit Ethernet.The Gigabyte,once again,proved better - it had five USB connectors and support for Nvidia Surround.The Asus features a Scrabble-tile keyboard,just like its competitors,and high-quality is high.The keys are light and we've used some that have far more travel,but the slight lack of feedback battery dell xps 11 isn't a large problem together with the firm base - we were quickly able to hammer away during intensive gaming sessions.The excellent typing practical experience matches the MSI and improves on the Gigabyte,but it's got minor issues.The keys on the numberpad are narrower than those around the rest on the keyboard,and the cursor keys are narrow and not set apart in the rest of the keys,which can make them tricky to hit.There aren't any dedicated macro keys,either - a feature offered by the Gigabyte.The G550JK's trackpad is huge and feels smooth and responsive - it's a single in the best units 860066 001 we've used.The buttons at the bottom on the pad really feel just as great for your most part,although they need to be depressed further in each corner to register clicks.It's a minor annoyance that you'll notice if fingers stray through gameplay.

Display

Following the latest trend,Asus doesn't integrate a viewing angle dependent TN screen,but a considerably superior IPS model.1920x1080 pixels are standard within the 15-inch category,and enable working with multiple,simultaneously opened windows.Compared with all the LG Philips LP156WF-4-SPB1 display in Schenker's M504,the Samsung 156HL01-02 is somewhat brighter but also features a slightly lower contrast,nevertheless 763:1 rather than 930:1 is still great.While the illumination specified on paper isn't overwhelming,the display looks homogeneous.We did not ascertain display charger inspiron 15 7573 bleeding in our review sample.Like while in the G750JM and G750JZ,Asus installs its own colour profile that is appealing in the CalMAN test.In addition towards the grayscale,both the color saturation and shade accuracy are higher than in Schenker's M504 or Gigabyte P35W v2,which also sports an LG Philips LP156WF4.Another advantage of Samsung's 156HL01-02 becomes evident from the coloration house.The differences are not extreme subjectively; both screens provide a multimedia-suitable image.The biggest plus point from the IPS technology is its higher viewing angle stability.Unlike TN screens,no key deviations dell xps 15 charger occur vertically.The image only distorts in side views from above or below.The 15-inch laptop also does a good career outdoors.The combination of high brightness and matte finish be certain carefree outdoor use; only direct sunlight causes visibility problems.

Performance

The lower price of the machine means it's not able to match the MSI or Gigabyte systems for gaming performance.Instead of toting a GTX 870M core or a rapid-fire SLI arrangement,the Asus relies on a mid-range Nvidia GeForce GTX 850M chipset that's got fewer than half as numerous stream processors toshiba a000170200 battery as its rivals.1 saving grace is some overclocking: Asus has tweaked the core clock from 936MHz to 991MHz.The Asus process dell 09rn2c charger can't enjoy a few of our test online games at their highest graphics levels.In Bioshock Infinite the G550JK averaged a playable 30fps,but in Battlefield 4 and Crysis 3 those scores slipped to 19fps and 18fps.We only hit playable framerates by toning down the settings.Battlefield 4's average of 28fps at High settings is almost playable,but we had to dial back to Medium to hit a smooth 51fps.In Crysis 3,we also had to use Medium settings - but in this article the average only improved to 32fps. It's a world apart from the MSI and Gigabyte systems,both of which handled our test titles with no compromises dell dpj89 charger on good quality.Theoretical tests highlight the performance gulf.In 3D Mark's Ice Storm test the G550JK's score of 100,482 was 9,000 points behind the MSI and 30,000 points short of your Gigabyte,and the Asus then scored 2,863 while in the high-end Fire Strike benchmark - half as significantly as its rivals.The Asus features a 2.4GHz Core i7-4700HQ processor.It's similar hardware to your chips inside the G550JK's rivals,and the Asus scored an excellent 12,312 points in Geekbench.That outcome lies between the slower MSI and faster Gigabyte,and it indicates that this method has enough power to handle all kinds of demanding software.A generous 16GB of RAM helps the processor along.Both from the G550JK's rivals have SSDs in RAID arrangements,and both are faster.The Asus' boot time of 27s didn't impress,either; SSD-based machines load twice as fast.There's only space for any four-cell battery charger m9689b a in this method,and that means poor battery life.In our standard test,the Asus lasted for just over three hours - only a number of minutes additional than the MSI managed,and around half an hour extra than the Gigabyte.

That inauspicious result was followed up by an hour-long lifespan in our high-end gaming test,which makes complete use on the graphics card.That's the same lifespan as the MSI,and just a little significantly less than the Gigabyte.You'll need to plug in.Don't expect much gaming after a thirty-minute emergency charge,either.Hardly any manufacturer puts so a great deal effort lenovo yoga 370 charger inside the sound process as Asus does.The GL550JK has four speakers that are,on the other hand,located in the laptop's front area.We would call the sound superior despite the doubtful positioning however.Even without the external subwoofer,which wants a little bit of getting used to in the beginning and could have used somewhat much more accuracy,the bass outclasses most contenders.The high optimum volume can also be impressive.Music,game titles,and videos can be turned up pleasantly.Having said that,the GL550JK's sound procedure isn't truly exciting.The laptop would need more capacity for bigger speakers for that.Nevertheless,the sound excellent is sufficient for on the go without headphones.Besides Gigabyte's P34G v2 and P35W v2,both Schenker's M504 and XMG A504 have a poorer sound.The Asus trades blows with all the competition when it comes to slender,light design,and the more modest components within this method helped it carry out nicely in thermal tests too.Those figures are high,but both rival systems recorded higher levels in some tests - and the Asus improved around the competition by staying cool around the outside.We'd use this machine on our laps without fear of burns.The G550JK kept the noise down.Though there's a low rumble when this machine runs intensive games,it's not as loud as the noise churned out through the MSI and Gigabyte notebooks.

Conclusion

While it's a system designed for gamers and fanatics,the G550JK should really appeal to just about any person who wants a powerful notebook,thanks generally to a design that's classy and functional,as well as quite light considering all the built-in characteristics.We love the feel with the keyboard and the red ambience of its backlight,the screen is of good quality,and,of course,there is plenty of power inside for playing numerous of the latest games,or for being productive.The SSD offering is a paltry 1,although,with 256GB being the maximum that we saw around the supplied spec sheet,and we assume that larger capacities should really be options,especially because the device just isn't all that easy to get into and upgrade yourself .Users who do not mind the somewhat inflexible touchpad,and do not need extended battery runtimes can certainly take a closer look at Asus' GL550JK.Despite the fact that Nvidia's GPU suffers greatly under the DDR3 VRAM,Asus has carried out a far more than decent job.We would mention the stylish and pleasantly trim casing right here.2.3 kilograms samsung s27a550h charger points much more to an office laptop and not a gaming machine.The numerous ultrabook elements are also unusual from a gamer's point of view.Until now,there were few 15-inch laptops that fit in this line.The GL550JK outperforms the IPS contender Schenker M504 in most tests.In addition for the keyboard backlight,the superior sound is also a purchase argument.That and the high-contrast screen create a excellent multimedia backdrop.The restrained fan compensates for that relatively high temperatures,and the GL550JK will not turn into a noisy troublemaker even under higher load.Whether a surcharge of 300 Euros in contrast into the cheaper model is justified,is some thing everyone will have to decide for themselves.In any situation,Windows routine is a great deal additional fun with a solid-state drive.The competition will have a hard time must Asus install a better battery and GDDR5 VRAM during the successor.