#I credited her for even more than what she actually helped instead 6 hour lady pick out of what remained after the many rejection rounds

[no-droids]

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal​

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you.  Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty.  There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky.  It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running.  Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk.  It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs.  Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day.  You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow.  So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is.  Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you.  Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day.  Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob.  He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him?  At what point does it stop?  You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance.  There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now.  You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!”  It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer.  “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile.  “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came.  “Osiruu is a few hours that way.  There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital.  I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction.  “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view.  I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted.  You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then.  Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her.  But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo.  Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people.  Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring.  But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists.  The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be.  Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life.  You never pictured yourself as the fighting type.  When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that.  Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?”  You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile.  “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there.  He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile.  Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend.  “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey!  I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?”  She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by.  “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II.  I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady?  She seems like… you, almost.  Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs.  You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet.  “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible.  You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad?  Are you just an idiot with no hope?  You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes?  You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here.  Plenty.  There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business.  Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong.  There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune.  You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors.  Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic.  The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is.  Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.  You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes.  Fucking shoes, your salvation.  You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many.  Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design.  It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear.  Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up?  And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper.  His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder?  One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to?  That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that.  You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist.  There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss.  Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then.  Through the forest, you suppose.  You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again.  You have a finger point, that’s all you need.  Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over.  It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!”  A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach.  “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it.  “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!”  The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors.  He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit.  “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle.  “Oh, no.  I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs.  “Off the bus then please, miss.  Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off.  “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions.  “I’m sorry?  Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier.  The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them.  “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste.  Everyone is polite here, it seems.  “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place.  Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self.  Eliminate the need for a back pathing.  All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers.  You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do.  You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink.  You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left.  You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one.  The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all.  No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together.  You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches.  Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell.  It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then.  Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide.  The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind.  You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds.  Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway.  How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated.  Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack.  There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick.  Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up.  Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck.  It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous.  You know it even before you start.  The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay.  Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need.  You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn.  If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty.  You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again.  This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot.  You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though.  Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be.  Water is an eroder.  Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees.  You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain.  The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it.  You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can.  It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck.  You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water.  The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall.  You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go.  With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it.  It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found.  This… this is doable.

Okay.  If you pull this off, you’re a badass.  If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation.  This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot.  Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further.  Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself.  The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet.  It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again.  “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond.  So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak.  You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below.  “Uh.  Ahem.  Hello.  Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you.  “Or something on your side is too loud.  There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about.  It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again.  You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?”  You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before.  Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something?  Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good?  It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough.  “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm.  Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to.  If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended.  You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult.  “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do?  This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well.  Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here.  You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk.  You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem.  Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um.  Can you give me a second?”  You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this.  Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?”  Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself.  Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more.  That’s a long way.  You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep.  Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths.  You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second.  The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay.  Okay, fucking success.  It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?”  You ask, slightly out of breath.  “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go?  Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with.  As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you.  You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing.  “Hello?  Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?”  Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile.  “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment.  “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again?  Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart.  It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely.  Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do.  You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today.  You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of.  The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right?  Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss.  The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance.  Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright.  Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit.  You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat.  “How’s the baby?  Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right.  You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.”  No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly.  “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times.  Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along.  He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back.  Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change?  That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father.  “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it.  The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet.  It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees.  Shit.  “Uh.  What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything.  Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it?  It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is?  Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail?  Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now.  You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make.  “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good.  Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm.  Doubt it,”  immediately comes his low response.  Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?”  Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction.  You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth.  Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask.  Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have?  Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly.  “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing.  “Psh.  Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes.  He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours.  He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?”  (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?”  (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean?  Everyone loves food.”  (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um.  What’s your favorite color, then?”  (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.”  (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.”  (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be.  Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light.  Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them.  All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier.  The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing.  If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right?  You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time.  This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road.  The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed.  You want a city.  This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines.  Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows.  As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter.  “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?”  You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you.  You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah.  So he got to the bus, then.  Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile.  Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say.  Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult.  “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full.  “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle.  Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh.  Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains.  You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest.  You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental.  It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped.  Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes.  The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead.  Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough.  You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in.  It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be.  The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own.  He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop.  He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far.  You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think.  It’s hard to see.  Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders.  That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right?  Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up?  Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it.  You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy.  “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more.  “Shit.  How d’you… mm.  Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking.  “You need rest.  I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright.  Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now.  Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are.  Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause.  “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up.  You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it.  “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you.  You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull.  So warm, so gentle.  If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest.  “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur.  Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect.  “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did.  You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset.  “You makin’ fun of me?”  You ask him with a harumph.  Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know.  Is that displeasure or not?  It’s not immediately clear.  Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now?  Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it?  “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back.  You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright.  It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it.  “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that.  You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember.  Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart.  Sixteen times sixteen.  One forty-four.  No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh.  “I won’t move until you wake up.  Go to sleep.  You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you.  That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six.  You don’t even think Din would.  You would, though.  On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up.  You should know this.  And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?”  You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless.  He doesn’t have to do this.  You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows.  How do you say this?  You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out.  “I’m… not in a bed.  I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy.  You want him to stay.  Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt.  “Sleep, sweet girl.  I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck.  Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time.  Wait.  Don’t panic.  Listen.

Breathing.  Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black.  He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep?  Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out.  You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen.  Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it.  Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much.  You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box.  It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost.  Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again.  Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator.  This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it.  He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back.  If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful.  He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this.  You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up.  But… these circumstances are their own.  You have to capitalize now, this is your chance.  You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight.  That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to.  It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him.  Now is the time to hide.  You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then.  As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy.  “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act.  “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head.  Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…”  He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it.  “How long have you been up?”

Op.  Not good.  “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it.  “How long?”

How in Maker’s name?  This is impossible.  How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him?  Can you salvage this somehow?  “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak.  “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh.  Well.  Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways.  There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up.  Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over.  Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background.  It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around.  “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though.  He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead.  “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle.  “Alright, I’m up now.  See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh.  What the fuck was that?

No.  Nope, you’re not going to get played.  That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time.  You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore.  You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing.  He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it.  That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it.  Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept.  You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big.  Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected.  It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning.  Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh.  That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time.  If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion.  You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly?  Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show?  You have to stop worrying about him.  He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving.  While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation.  You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?”  He asks at one point.  So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect.  He doesn’t need to know.  “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though.  This is relevant.  “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?”  He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile.  “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range.  I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks.  It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads.  We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding.  It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way.  Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes.  He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think.  Someone a little less expressive.  This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments.  “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke.  “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle.  You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?”  You ask.  You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn.  It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?”  He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger.  The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that!  It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts.  Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him.  Good, this is almost over.  “Um.  Yep.  That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod.  “When you get to the city, just go straight through.  It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting.  You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line.  That might actually be a good move.  Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you.  Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right?  He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to.  Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him.  He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it.  Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly.  “Oh, by the way.  I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right.  You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store.  Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside.  You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms.  Oh well, you weren’t complaining.  Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea.  You don’t need to change shoes, not yet.  Why?  Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you.  It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories.  It’s an eyesore, it sticks out.  But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters.  Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left.  I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it.  I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself.  Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see.  An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now.  If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know.  Let him know exactly where you are.  Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling.  If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide.  He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night.  It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on.  It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal.  Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever.  This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you.  You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think?  No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe.  Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here.  And… and slippers, it’s like a dream.  Do people normally wear slippers in bed?  You do.  Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase.  This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways.  You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky.  Violent and periwinkle tonight.  You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair.  Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath.  Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments.  Astute, you feel happy.  Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here.  Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers.  You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth.  No face, though.  Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance.  You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed.  You… miss him.  This mattress would feel softer with him next to you.  He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it.  You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles.  Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters.  “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”  You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you.  “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding.  “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you.  You love him.  Literally every single time, he just knows.  Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often.  Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again.  “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today?  How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes?  A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal?  You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you.  “You should be here.  I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually.  Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting.  He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him.  He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around.  The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead.  You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece.  “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly.  Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie.  You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible?  He read you that deeply from one single word?  You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”  You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?”  He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?”  You don’t even know what to believe anymore.  How do you beat this?  If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out.  His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm.  “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.”  It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…”  your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh.  He’s right, that was bad, even for you.  “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits.  You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step.  “I’m nowhere near the city yet.  You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown.  “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?”  He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.”  His voice is gruff.  You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing.  “You should give yourself more credit.  I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss.  It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft.  It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through.  “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”  His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve.  “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache.  You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are.  People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself.  For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it.  You feel so… known, somehow.  Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his.  He makes you feel loved with it.  “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again.  You don’t have to say anything, he already knows.  “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip.  Oh, stars.  You hate that you do genuinely consider it.  He could be here, and very soon.  With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably.  He could take a shower.  Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one.  You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together.  You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you.  Let him come.  You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?”  You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement.  You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him.  Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone.  You like to think you’re both better that way.  Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?”  Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you.  It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it?  This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting.  Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around.  The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?”  You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit.  He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts.  His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know.  “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you.  “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless.  Should you push it?  You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip.  It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach.  “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?”  You whisper to him devilishly.  Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down.  Stars, your heart is already pounding.  You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason.  He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire.  “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me.  Or you could find me before I’m finished.  Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to.  The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels.  You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?”  You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond.  Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing.  “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him.  Dead silence through the comm.  You’re starting to understand.  For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice.  He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm.  If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu.  You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece.  “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen.  “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement.  When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy.  “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now.  “Oh shit, does this holocall?  Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him.  “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear.  “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious.  He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you?  Really?

“You sure?”  You ask softly, raising an eyebrow.  “You’d get to see me, where I am.  What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop.  You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all.  Did he decline the transmission request?  No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before.  Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?”  You ask.  You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath.  “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist?  Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?”  You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows.  You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible.  “Can you see… this?”  You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?”  Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more.  “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?”  Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier.  “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.”  You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed.  “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet.  Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that.  How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?”  You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden.  Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end.  Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight.  Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit.  “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera.  Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?”  Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again.  Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors.  You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop.  “But the window is open.  And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?”  Din immediately challenges.  Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that.  You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him.  It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay.  Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently.  It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth.  “Does it matter?  I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?”  You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following.  You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator.  Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself.  Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea.  No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well.  You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place.  Is he just that aroused by you?  Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again.  Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling.  Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back.  You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible.  You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do.  It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell.  He’ll be able to see it, you think.  The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside.  It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip.  He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something?  You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless.  It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you.  You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.  You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you.  Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples.  “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious.  “You think—y-you think—”

“What?”  You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious.  Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops.  It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?”   He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet.  “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there?  You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering.  He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now.  “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh.  That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart.  He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you.  Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word.  “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly.  Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down.  “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid.  Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days.  I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss.  You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it.  You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his.  He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey.  “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not?  What have you got to lose?  Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways.  What’s the worst he can do?  Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here.  “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days.  You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you.  You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table.  It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #smut #reader insert #fanfic #rough day #no-droids #tw: stalking

[pl-panda]

Damienette arranged marriage: part 17

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Part 12 Part 13 part 14

part 15

part 16

Damienette arranged marriage: part 17

NEXT

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“No Father…” Adrien’s expression changed and for the first time Gabriel saw himself in the boy. This was not the gentle, naive boy. It was almost like he looked in the mirror. Cold and calculative eyes and malicious smirk. “She will be mine. And we shall have a perfect family together, like we always dreamed.”

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

Now

After his father recalled his Akuma, Adrien returned home as quickly as possible. He had to discuss this development with his father. He sneaked into the manor and to his room. There, he detransformed. Plagg came out dizzied

“Ugh! Remind me to apologize to Nooroo for all the bad things I said to him.”

“Silence! I told you to behave accordingly.” Adrien scolded his Kwami. His father taught him that if he kept it obedient, he would have much less trouble with pestering and trying to sabotage him.

“Yeah yeah. Stuff your ‘accordingly’ down your…” Plagg’s voice was stuck in his theoretical throat. “Yes… Master.” He huffed and flew to his spot on the bed.

Adrien decided to just ignore the pestering kwami and went down to his father’s atelier. He of course was not there, but Adrien just walked to the platform and traveled down to the lair. The whole time there was only one thought pestering him constantly. The moment he shared with his princess. 

Adrien saw the fear in her eyes when he tried to kiss her. For a moment he thought that maybe it was a mistake, but then he actually understood. This boy, Damian, must have done something to her. Once their lips met she reacted in pain and gripped her heart. There was this eerie green light. Maybe if not for his own pain, Adrien would be able to help her. He was now more sure than ever that he needed to save her from that monster. Whatever it was, he could see the pain and fear it caused her. It was something unnatural. And then there was this meddling Superbrat. Adrien never liked them. Most people adored them, but he considered them overrated. Maybe it was because he was once forced to do a photoshoot with Superman. Or maybe he just didn’t like them.

“Father.” He greeted Gabriel once he arrived.

“I saw it too, Son.” His father did not bother with introduction. “It certainly… complicates the matter.” 

“So what should do we do now, Father?” Adrien asked unsure. 

“I knew that it was only a matter of time before the Justice League got involved.” Gabriel stated and walked to the wall, opening the pannel.

“You prepared?”

“Of course I prepared you st… Of course I prepared.” The older man stopped himself from insulting his son. He couldn’t afford to lose his trust now. “It took some work, but I prepared contingency plans for the leaguers that would actually pose the danger. That is those, who can’t be controlled and used to further our goals.”

“So we have nothing to worry about?” Adrien beamed.

“There is always a place for failure son. And it’s better to be a realist than an optimist.”

“Of course father.” The boy calmed and took submissive stance. “Forgive my enthusiasm.”

“If there is nothing else, I would like to…” Gabriel started, but his son interrupted him.

“Actually, there is one more thing.” Adrien started a bit unsure. “Today, when I kissed my princess… Something happened to her. There was an eerie green light around her heart and she seemed in pain.”

“Hm… Interesting. Was there anything else?” His father actually expressed some curiosity on the matter.

“Well, I think it might have been caused by this new boy, Damian Grayson. I am afraid he might have done something to her.”

“I will ask Nathalie to do some research into him. But this only affirms our need to get the Ladybug Miraculous.”

“You are right as always father.” Adrian complimented him.

“Yes. Have you done your homework already? I do not wish for our extracurricular activities to interrupt your schoolwork.”

“I will get right to it father.” The boy was about to run away, but he turned back to him. “I also wanted to thank you for helping me find her and make sure she was safe. I would have real trouble with locating her if not for you.”

“Yes Yes. I am sorry, but I need to make some calls now. Get to your homework.” Gabriel dismissed his son and turned to the wall computer.

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

Marinette sat on the couch with her parents on either side hugging her tightly. Damian wanted to comfort her as well, but he decided that her parents would do a better job. Instead, he just sat in front of his mother who, even after two hours since Marinette and him came, was still tied to the chair and gagged. He liked her better like that. Silent and not judging. 

That’s a lie. She had the most judging look in her eyes ever. But he didn’t need to hear her so who cares?

“Again, I’m sor…” Marinette stopped herself. Her parents already also forbid her from using this word today. “I should have told you before.”

“No. You had right not to. It was your duty.” Tom comforted her.

“Sweety. It’s not like we didn’t hide any secrets from you.” Sabine mussed Marinette’s hair. 

“About that.” Damian interrupted the family bonding. “As much as I find my mother tied and gagged amused, can someone explain how exactly did you manage that? After all she is only like… second most dangerous woman on the planet.”

“Simple. I am the first.” Sabine stated without as much as a flinch. 

“Aren’t you exaggerating a bit maman?” Marinette asked lightheartedly. 

“About that…” Tom started, but Sabine gestured for him to stop.

“I think it will be best if I tell the truth.” She looked at Damian for a moment, but then returned her sight to Marinette. “It has mostly to do with your grandfather. My mother had two daughters actually. Me and my sister. Her name is Sandra Wu-San, better know as Lady Shiva”

“What the fuck!?” Was Damian’s reaction.

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell  @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25 @tired-butterfly @toodaloo-kangaroo

#mlb x dc #mlb #maribat #maribat au #marinette x damian #arranged marriage au #maridami #order of the guardians #guardian!marinette #league of assassins #evil!adrien #batman #miraculous lb #miraculous ladybug #damienette

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 6//

(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (Chapter six) (Chapter seven) (Chapter eight) (Chapter nine) (Chapter ten)

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red)

“Are you absolutely sure it's a boy?” Rhys asked me as we lay entangled in bed, his ear pressed against my bare stomach and his hand splayed just below my navel.

I giggled as I ran my fingers through his raven locks. In the week since I announced my pregnancy, he asked me different versions of the same question. His hands also seemed to have become permanently glued to my stomach; along with his ears and lips. Every chance he had, Rhys would try and get as close to the baby as possible—which I welcomed, absolutely content with how devoted he was. The morning after Starfall, Rhys insisted we visit Madja’s clinic in Velaris—determined to learn anything and everything there was to know about pregnancy and what it would entail for me. The healer happily obliged, and informed us both of what the next eight and a half months would look like. Not only was a high fae pregnancy longer than a human’s, but as with other fae ailments, any symptoms and risks I faced might be amplified.

There were the normal symptoms I was already accustomed to: nausea, vomiting, fatigue, and others I would soon face: backaches, swelling in my hands, face, and feet, and occasional headaches. Hearing about those symptoms didn’t cause any alarm, they were common and unfortunately came hand-in-hand with creating a new life. Madja also said that every female experienced her pregnancy differently; some had severe complications and had to be on strict bed rest, while others hardly experienced anything other than a few minor discomforts. I hoped for the latter of the two.

It was hearing about the risks, which included a small chance of bleeding that could lead to a miscarriage while we were still in an early phase, that made me nervous and caused Rhys to enter in a full-blown defensive mode. Any prior protective behavior he was experiencing before now intensified with his innate need to safeguard me and the baby. Madja assured us that this behavior was expected and normal between mates; with females in such a vulnerable condition, a male’s instinct was always to protect his mate and their offspring. To his credit, Rhys offered a sheepish grin along with an apology in advance. Having already witnessed what he was like after we were freshly mated, and how he managed to reign himself in, I knew most of it was beyond his control.

However, I welcomed some of his coddling after my unpleasant symptoms returned a day after our visit with Madja, and fluctuated throughout the week. The extreme fatigue seemed to be a permanent state I would stay in for the duration of my pregnancy, but I pleaded to the Mother that my nausea spells would soon cease. It was torture being unable to leave my room for periods of time throughout the day. Unfortunately, there was no predicting when the queasiness would hit, so for the time being I would have to bear with it and hope none of the others would notice and wonder why my seemingly mysterious illness still remained.

Rhys and I decided to hold off on revealing the news to our friends and my sisters until we were out of the realm of possibility for a miscarriage. Madja reassured me that the chances were slim and divulged that although it was difficult for high fae to conceive, it was also difficult to lose a pregnancy. In spite of my relief, I didn’t want to take any chances and asked the healer for all recommendations on how to stay as healthy as possible.

So, along with the prenatal herbal teas she initially prescribed, she also ordered that I immediately put a halt to my morning training sessions with Cassian—which Rhys whole-heartedly agreed with, much to my chagrin. As much as I enjoyed being active, however, I knew fainting after only a couple of minutes of basic punching forms was a sign that I should be taking it easier. My body was now working overtime to provide not only for myself, but for a baby that was growing more and more by the day. Instead, Madja suggested I take more time to rest and relax, to allow myself more free time for leisure activities like my painting. Knowing my concerns, and guilt, over becoming stagnant, Rhys promised my duties as High Lady wouldn’t be affected—which left me relieved.

However, as much as my mate knew how capable I was of tending to my regular duties as High Lady, I couldn’t help but be amused at how much he insisted on spoiling me. He now reserved the right to tend to my every want and need; whether I was weary or not, Rhys began to wait on my hand and foot under the guise that since I was carrying his child, he would carry everything else. I appreciated it most whenever I was feeling particularly nauseated or drained, but I drew the line whenever he tried to spoon feed me my meals—I still maintained my irritation for it, no matter how much of a mother hen he was going to be for the duration of my pregnancy. I also valued it on morning’s like today when I had awoken with little to no desire to leave the comforts of our bed—whether it was from my overwhelming fatigue or not.

“Yes, the Bone Carver appeared to me as our firstborn. A miniature version of you,” I answered with a sigh of mock exasperation.

“And you’re sure this mini-me didn’t happen to actually have long hair or maybe more feminine features? It is dark in the prison, afterall, maybe you missed a couple of details,” he tried to reason, raising his head to look at me.

“I showed you what he looked like,” I laughed.

“Ah yes, but I saw through your eyes Feyre darling. So to clarify the vision, I have to rely on the original source. In this case, that’s you,” he said, his grin positively feline.

I grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it as I laughed, “Smartass.”

His grin remained as he braced himself against my stomach playfully, “Careful darling, you’ll hurt the baby,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes and hit him again as he laughed, “It’s a boy. Maybe the next one will be a girl.”

“Next one?” He asked, his violet eyes lit up as they met mine with raised and amused brows.

“We’ll see. Let’s focus on our son first,” I said.

His chuckle reverberated through me as he pressed his ear to my still-flat stomach. Despite no growth progress being made on my pregnant belly, he was obsessed.

“I want him to know I’m here,” Rhys answered before I could ask; double checking to make sure that my mental shields were intact.

“He knows,” I said as I continued to brush my fingers through his hair. “He was calling out to you for weeks before either of us realized he was there.”

During our visit, I had Madja explain the mystery behind the faint glimmer that fluttered between us. The ancient inkling that existed between mates as a confirmation that they had successfully procreated. Rhys was in awe of the information, and hoped the glimmer would remain throughout the months. So far, my little glimmering baby was silent—perhaps reveling in finally being noticed.

“Still, it’s never too early to bond with my son,” he said with a grin as he pressed a chaste kiss to my stomach before subsequently moving from his spot and hovering above me. “Are you feeling well enough to have breakfast with everyone, or shall I bring you breakfast in bed?”

I sighed as I held his arms, lightly tracing the pattern of his tattoos as I debated, “I could honestly sleep for another couple of hours. You should go, let everyone know I’m okay,” I answered.

“I’m beginning to run out of excuses to explain why their High Lady has been so inclined to not leave her room.”

I hesitated, realizing how hard it actually was to keep up the deceit. A part of me knew Mor was suspicious of something already, having guessed Cauldron-knew-what on Starfall. The others I couldn’t even begin to guess what assumptions they made.

“Should we just tell them?” I asked. “I know we wanted to wait a little while longer, but it just doesn’t feel right to keep giving excuse after excuse.”

Rhys nodded in agreement, “I’m pretty sure Cassian and Azriel know something, but they have too much respect for your privacy to pry it out of me.”

I laughed and sighed tiredly, “Do you think they’ll be excited?” I asked.

He smirked, “Well I don’t think they’ll be disappointed.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him away before sitting up as he chuckled. He caught my wrist carefully before I could get up from the bed, “I think they’ll be more than happy to hear there will soon be a new member of our Inner Circle,” he said.

I smiled, “He’s going to be spoiled, isn’t he?”

“Rotten, my love.” He replied as I laughed.

X

I didn’t realize how nervous I would actually be until we sat down for breakfast. Our morning routine was proceeding as normal—everyone gathering in our grand dining hall, another room I was particularly proud of in the estate. I planned for it to be large enough to fit all of us comfortably, and took extra consideration for the Illyrian brothers and their mighty wings.

I took comfort in seeing everyone in their customary morning moods; Amren and Mor chattering over a new line of jewelry on display at their favorite shop at the Palace of Thread and Jewels, Elain displaying a book of pressed flowers she had been collecting to Azriel—who actually requested to see it the night before, and Nesta keeping a watchful eye on the pair while Cassian engaged her in some kind of boastful conversation. I was actually surprised to see how close they were sitting together without Nesta having a sneer on her face. I tried to remember the last time it was she even looked at him with a sneer at all.

Getting distracted, my love? Rhys asked down the bond.

I glanced at him and took a sip from my glass of orange juice. What, should I just blurt it out while they aren’t paying attention?

Why not?

I paused. Really?

If you don’t, then perhaps I will.

I blinked and opened my mouth to say it, but when the words refused to come out, Rhys grinned mischievously before simply turning in his seat and said, “Feyre darling is pregnant.”

Everyone’s eyes instantly turned to me and I blushed under their collective gaze. There was quiet for little more than two heartbeats before Mor and Elain’s high-pitched squeals met the air and the sounds of chairs scraping the floor filled the room as everyone moved. Mor was the first to reach me as she threw her arms around me in a warm embrace.

“Oh, I knew it, I knew it!” She cheered as she hugged me and my eyes burned as she pulled away, Elain wrapping me in her arms next.

“I can’t believe it, Feyre, you’re going to have a baby!” she exclaimed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Azriel and Cassian congratulating Rhys with clasps on the shoulder.

I laughed aloud when Cassian wrapped an arm around his shoulder and wrestled him around, “I knew you had it in you Rhysie!” he exclaimed as Azriel nodded his approval.

Just as the shadowsinger turned his attention to me and took a step in my direction to congratulate me, Rhys was out of Cassian’s hold and in his path—blocking him from getting to me with a deadly snarl on his lips.

Cassian barked a laugh and slapped a hand on Rhys’s tense shoulder, “Is this a second version of that mating bond rearing its ugly head?” he taunted.

Before Rhys could turn that snarl towards Cassian, I touched his other shoulder gently in an attempt to calm his feral temper. Almost instantly, he relaxed as his gaze drifted to my stomach and shrugged Cassian’s hand away.

“Madja warned us that this might happen,” I said, “But I’d prefer you two not destroy this room.”

“We can always have it out in the training pit later, Rhysie.” Cassian goaded, cracking his knuckles with a wicked grin.

Rhys squared his shoulders as his hand came to rest on the small of my back, “I’m fine here.”

“A typical male guarding his offspring,” Amren said coolly, and I was grateful for the attempt to lighten the animosity that briefly began to brew. “Congratulations girl. It’s about time our group is graced by a youngling’s presence, it’ll be a welcome change around here.”

“How far along are you?” Nesta asked, and I was surprised to see her standing beside Cassian, not realizing she had made her way over during the hostile interaction with Rhys, instead of attempting to shield Elain.

“Almost three months now,” I answered, my hand coming to rest on my flat stomach. “I found out the day before Starfall.”

“Aha! I told you!” Mor cheered as she turned to Cassian and Azriel.

Cassian swore under his breath and Az dipped his head in acknowledgement, and I balked. “What’re you talking about?”

“We all made a bet on how long it would take for you guys to announce it. I gave it a week, Cass bet two, and Az bet you would be half-way along before you told us. Which means I won!” Mor sang excitedly.

“I lost the minute his darkness over here didn’t shout it from the rooftop after you told him,” Amren revealed nonchalantly, motioning to Rhys.

“Wait, you all knew?” I asked, bewildered.

“Are you kidding? I smelled it on you the minute we came back from the mountains,” Cassian admitted, “I’m surprised Rhys didn’t, with him being your mate and all.”

“To be fair, a part of me did know, but until Feyre was fully aware herself, I wasn’t going to raise any suspicion,” Rhys said nonchalantly, and I could feel his attempt to tame his preternatural instincts in order to avoid giving into Cassian’s baiting.

“So, this wasn’t really news then?” I asked, unable to hide my disappointment.

“It was for me,” Elain interjected, grabbing my hands gently with a smile, “I had no idea, and I’m so happy Feyre.”

“I didn’t know either,” Nesta added, and I was astonished to see a formal look of support on her lovely face.

Elain embraced me again as my eyes burned. They were all happy for us, and as Amren mentioned earlier, a baby would soon be welcomed by everyone here. I tried not to let the tears fall as I imagined my son being held in each of their arms. I sniffed as I stepped back from Elain’s arms and blinked in surprise when I saw Amren, Mor, Azriel and Cassian standing together before me and bowed with their hands over their hearts—just as they had done years ago after Rhys and I were newly mated.

“Our vow of service and protection is extended to the child you carry; our future High Lord of the Night Court.” Mor explained before I could question them.

“Or the future High Lady,” Cassian said with a wink.

I glanced at Rhys as he slid his hand back onto the small of my back, and without the need to communicate through the bond we knew we would keep that revelation a secret.

“This is normally a tradition sworn to the High Lord, but seeing as you are our High Lady, and the one who is actually doing all the work, we pledge our vow to you and your child.” Amren continued.

My heart tightened and my face flushed as they all stood as one, their hands still on their hearts. I captured the image in my mind, imagining what colors of paint I would need later and the exact canvas I would use to commemorate this moment forever. Sworn protectors of the Night.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice still thick with the unshed tears.

Mor grinned and came up to envelop me in another hug, “Your emotions are going to be all over the place now! You don’t have to worry about holding back, we all understand,” she crooned and I laughed with a sob.

“I’ll admit, I’ve never really been around pregnant females outside of the ones in the Illyrian camps, but I’m willing to learn,” Cassian reassured.

“We all are,” Azriel added.

I sniffed and wiped at the few tears that escaped, “I guess we’re all experiencing this for the first time,” I said.

“I’ve at least held a baby before,” Mor said proudly.

“Before it burst into tears and reached back for its mother,” Rhys remarked with a smirk, earning a glare from the golden-haired beauty.

“Hey, I’ve held a baby before,” Cassian defended. “You forget, I’ve taught younglings how to fly. Sometimes that required holding them when they cried.”

“Your idea of holding a youngling included patting them on the back until they calmed and tossing them, sometimes in mid-air,” Azriel smoothly cut in.

“That happened once, and it was an accident!” Cassian barked.

“So, you dropped a baby in mid-air?” Mor asked.

Elain gasped in horror at the thought, causing Amren to burst out laughing and Nesta rolled her eyes as Cassian fumbled over his words to try and defend his actions. I squeezed Rhys’s hand as my heart swelled and his eyes met mine with an easy grin, his free hand coming to rest on my stomach—happy to finally be able to do so in front of everyone. I returned his grin when that familiar glimmer fluttered excitedly beneath his touch, our son happy and no doubt feeling right at home with his family.

#feysand #feysand babies #rhys x feyre #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #feyre darling #feyre x rhysand #nessian #nesta archeron #elain archeron #high lady feyre #high lady of the night court #high lord of the night court #high lord rhysand #illyrian #illyrians #illyrian babies #azriel #mor #amren acotar #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #acofs #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of nightmares and starlight

[netflixandgrill-blog]

40 Days and 40 Nights and 9 Reasons It Sucked

Josh Hartnett works for a burgeoning “dot-com” (we know, 2002, hilarious) in San Francisco and he has a big problem: every beautiful woman he so much as bumps into on the street wants to immediately go to bed with him. How will he ever find true love if he keeps giving in to their sexual advances? Well, like anyone with this completely relatable problem would do, he consults the Catholic Church for some healthy advice on sex. After talking to a priest (who happens to be his brother) in a confessional, he decides to go the entirety of Lent—40 days and 40 nights—without sex, intimate contact, or...ahem...self-gratification. The rub? (Pun intended.) He then meets the girl of his dreams (she has a name but we just call her Manic Pixie Dream Girl). Also, for added pressure, his office has a betting pool on when he will cave, and so they try to tempt him to give up his celibacy at every turn. We would like to say hilarity ensues, but as the church has taught us, even the smallest lie is a sin.

1. The Only People Who Could Possibly Relate to This Premise Are Single People During a Pandemic

The problem: we are not single. Also, a second problem: our brains work. 

2. Josh Hartnett’s Horniness Defies the Laws of Human Biology

Poor Josh Hartnett is so horny that, for the last two of his 40 days he has a perma-boner and is shaking like a heroin addict at a methadone clinic. So horny that, on the last day of the challenge, he hallucinates that he is floating through a sea of (really unattractive) boobs in a fevered psychotic break from reality, like Ewan McGregor seeing the dead baby on the ceiling in Trainspotting. So horny that, in the aforementioned psychotic break, he doesn’t even realize that his ex-girlfriend is mounting him in an effort to sabotage the 40-day challenge at the 11th hour. He imagines that he’s at the laundromat or some shit while his ex-girlfriend gets on top of him and has sex with him to completion before he comes to (pun intended) and realizes what has happened. And all of us watching are supposed to go, “Yeah, that tracks. I remember not getting laid for the entirety of high school and it was exactly like that.”

3. His Ex-Girlfriend Sexually Assaults Him and Yet He Still Has to Apologize For It

Speaking of the aforementioned scene with the ex-gf, we are still beside ourselves that during Josh’s fever dream (where he’s basically unconscious and tied to the bed), his ex-girlfriend legit rapes him, and no one in the movie—including Josh Hartnett—even suggests, “Hey, that kind of wasn’t cool.” His new love interest, Manic Pixie Dream Girl, walks in on it and swears Josh off forever and he spends the last 15 minutes of the movie apologizing and trying to win her back, when the misunderstanding could have been solved with the following 4 lines:

MPDG: You slept with your ex-girlfriend!

Josh Hartnett: No, actually, I was sexually assaulted.

MPDG: Oh my God, I’m so sorry that happened to you.

Josh Hartnett: Thank you for understanding. Let’s get a panini.

<Roll credits>

4. They Could Have Cast the Female Characters as Blow-Up Dolls, Because the Women are Just Props in This Movie

All the women, except for Manic Pixie Dream Girl, are completely interchangeable. So much so that it takes next to nothing to set her apart in Josh Hartnett’s eyes. “This girl is so quirky! She dances by herself wearing headphones at the laundromat! How quirky!” Other women are beautiful and ready to sleep with him at any moment, but this girl is different. 

In fact, this must be Donald Trump’s favorite movie because it’s a world where women are just there to seduce men, and the fact that men can’t control themselves sexually is completely justified. And also because there are no black people. For real, like, none. It’s just a world full of white guys who all look exactly the same, and one Asian guy (the Rolling Stone dude from Almost Famous) thrown in for “diversity”. That’s it.

5. Josh Harrnett is REALLY Bad at First Dates

Their first date was worse than our first date, and we drunkenly sat drinking water out of Tupperware. JK, that was a great 1st date. Ours, not theirs. For their first date, Josh Hartnett took Manic Pixie Dream Girl to the most romantic place on earth, the bus. They literally just rode the city bus for what must have been like 4 hours. Not to mention the fact that they live in San Francisco and the bus managed to drive by every tourist spot on this fictional city bus route, as if it were a trolley tour. HEY there’s an idea, why didn’t he take her on a romantic trolley tour? You know what this movie needed? One rewrite. Just one. 

6. Josh’s Workplace Makes Frat Houses Look Like a 1930’s Ladies Sewing Circle

Where is the HR office at Josh’s dot-com office? Did they outsource it to India or decide to convert it into a marshmallow pit wrestling ring? We’re guessing one of those scenarios took place seeing as how Josh’s boss talks to the women in the office like it’s last call at a meat market bar, looks up the women’s skirts when they aren’t looking, fingers dried apricots like they are ladies’ sexual organ, and performs cunnilingus on said dried apricots. But it’s all given a pass because he is such a sexual being and just can’t help himself. Josh’s coworkers also attempt to drug him with Viagra in order to thwart the 40 day/40 night challenge but end up accidentally drugging the World’s Horniest Boss instead, who subsequently masturbates in the office bathroom for the rest of the day, which everyone thinks is HILARIOUS. No wonder the dot-com bubble burst.

7. The Entire Conflict of the Movie Could Have Been Circumvented with One Simple Conversation. 

Josh Hartnett was like halfway through the 40 days already when he meets Manic Pixie Dream Girl, so the central conflict of the film could have been solved with the following 5 lines:

Her: Wanna come back to my place?

He: Actually I gave up sex for Lent. I have 20 more days. 

Her: So, as two people who just started dating, if we have the completely normal amount of one date per week, it’ll be like 2 or 3 more dates before we can have sex?

He: Yeah.

Her: Cool.

<roll credits>

8. This Isn’t the Longest Movie Ever, But It Feels Like It 

At one point we turned to each other and exclaimed, “How can there still be 30 MINUTES LEFT?????” This is like the “Layla” of movies, in that you think it’s done, but it just keeps going.  But unlike “Layla”, which goes from something awesome to another something awesome with a little break in the middle, this movie just goes from suck to suck with no break. 

9. They Had a Sex Scene Where They Use Only Flowers and Neither of Them Even Makes One “De-Flowered” Joke

Josh Hartnett brings Manic Pixie Dream Girl flowers to make up for the fact that he’s not sticking her good. So, naturally, instead of thanking him for the gesture, she makes a big deal out of the fact that she and Josh haven’t kissed yet (kissing is part of the “no sex for lent” shebang) after like TWO DATES. She says that the kiss is the only way you can tell if there’s a real connection between two people--she heard it in a Motown song once, so it has to be true. So instead of kissing they get creative and begin to “touch” each other using the flowers Josh had brought. Josh then proceeds to make her orgasm by just using a flower petal and gently blowing on her nether regions. “Wait, would this actually work?” Heidi asked Mike during that scene. But Mike had already hurried off to the bedroom with an asthma inhaler and a dream.

In conclusion, we’ll never watch 40 Days and 40 Nights again. Except during Lent, as our penance. 

#movies #moviereview #40 days and 40 nights #netflix #netflixandgrill #josh hartnett #lent #manic pixie dream girl

[ahnsael]

@kjuw89 replied to your photo: “Isn’t she beautiful?”:

Crowds look light ��

They’re not bad. I was surprised to see 15 minutes for Pirates. On the Disney Parks App it then said that HyperSpace Mountain had a 20 minute wait, but it had just returned to 104 status after going 101 (for you non-cast members, that means it was working again after having broken down), and by the time I got there from Big Thunder it was up to 55 minutes and no Single Rider Line. I got a FastPass for 9:10-10:10pm, but then gave that up for a Small World FastPass that would be valid by the time I walked from Galaxy’s Edge instead when I decided I didn’t have the energy to stay that late today.

The highest I saw Smuggler’s Run was also 55 minutes, and that and HyperSpace Mountain were the two longest waits in the park. It was warm today (even though I heard people complaining about how cold it was when I left -- it was predicted to be in the mid-60s at the time, so I’m guessing they’re SoCal people -- we’re already down to the 30s at night back home, which is probably why I found a scorpion in our garage yesterday; it’s still warm enough during the day, but it’s cold at night and our garage is still warm -- also I used my blacklight that I use for IDs and large bills at work and saw that the thing about them glowing green under black light is true), but when i walked by Splash Mountain on the way to the Hungry Bear and then Galaxy’s Edge, the wait was only 30 minutes.

I forgot to mention Star Tours and the Jedi Thingy in the Captain EO theater on my list of things I did today, too. I walked in to Star Tours and waited less than 5 minutes on Standby. It was weird to see that the Star Trader is pretty much all Star Wars merch now (it used to just be the small part by the Star Tours exit into the gift shop). There was also a huge selection of Star Wars pins on Main Street in the music store (which is now mostly a pin store). So much Star Wars in areas of the park other than the Star Wars par!I

I also happened to time the Jedi thing just right after finding out the Space Mountain wasn’t doing single rider but hearing the announcement that the doors to the theater were opening.

I was one of literally three people in the theater, and I was really only there to sit in the old seats and pretend I was watching Captain EO. The cast member didn’t even bother with the microphone; he just stood in front of us and did his spiel “in person” to us.

I wasn’t exactly wowed by Smuggler’s Run. I was told to watch for flashing buttons and push them (I was an engineer, the last row), and I was focused on that for the first part of the ride until I realized that the bright green flashes were enough to get my attention if I wasn’t looking.

The down side: Without spoiling the story, there were two times I was supposed to press something specific (and two other times to hit a couple other things -- there wasn’t a lot of interactivity for the engineer position). The first time I pressed the button and it had the desired effect; the second time, I pressed it, but it stayed lit, and Hondo kept yelling at me to press it, no matter how many times I pressed it. I could see the other Engineer (another single rider) having the same issue at the same time.

The lady who grouped us asked me whether I was a rebel or part of the Empire, and I told her honestly, “I don’t know, I just walked into Galaxy’s Edge and came here.” And since I was a single rider, I don’t think anything would have been “remembered” for me anyway as they advertised when the land opened.

Another issue was the Play Disney Parks app.When I first opened it, I allowed location services only while the app is open...turns out you can’t get “achievements”  unless they’re always on (any time you turn the phone screen off, the app starts from scratch when you reopen it). And for the life of me, I couldn’t find a way to go back and change my preferences. Maybe it’s outside the app in the phone’s app settings.

Oh, and they still have the typo on the sign at the entrance to the Haunted Mansion display in the Opera House on Main Street. It still says “Kindly step all the way in to the explore eerie evolution of the Haunted Mansion’s design” instead of “Kindly step all the way in to explore the eerie evolution of the Haunted Mansion’s design” (emphasis mine -- I tried posting it earlier from the Opera House, but Disneyland’s wifi keeps going in and out and if you thought I posted a lot today, just imagine if half of them hadn’t failed due to a lost connection!). That typo has been there for months, I believe. Disney has its own sign shop. It’s an easy fix. They just haven’t done it. Has nobody actually told them? Would I be a jerk to mention it?

The only other thing that I was disappointed in was that when I got dinner at the Hungry Bear, the cashier asked whether I wanted fries, slaw, or onion rings. I chose the rings.

And then when I got my receipt, I noticed that I was charged an extra 50¢ for that choice, then saw on the menu that it said “includes fries or slaw” (onion rings appeared nowhere on the menu, even as a side dish). Seemed a dirty trick to not mention the upcharge when offering it. It is, at the very least, a sneaky upcharge

But...let’s be honest, if she had said “would you like fries or slaw, which are included, or would you like to substitute onion rings for 50¢ more?” I still would have chosen the onion rings. It’s not a ridiculous upcharge, I just think it should be mentioned at the time.

But overall, it’s been so long that things that used to drive me up a wall were...pretty much okay today.

When I was in line for Pirates, there was a lady ahead of me with a young (2 or 3 years old I think) daughter, and she was having a heck of a time keeping her daughter from wandering off, or bumping into those of us around her, etc. That used to drive me crazy.

And maybe it’s because I’m an uncle now and understand the struggle better, but...all I could think was “Hey, at least she’s trying. Besides, what kid DOESN’T do these things?”

I was more bummed about the group who tried to sneak past me in the FastPass line of Big Thunder (the cast member at the merge point saw this and made them wait until I was ahead of them, bless him), the people behind me in line for Pirates who were old enough to understand the concept of personal space but still kept walking into me, and the family in front of me waiting at the FastPass merge point at Small World who kept giving their 1-2 year old daughter an empty Coke bottle, just for her to throw it down again -- one of those times at my head (and instead of stopping giving it to her to throw, tried to tell her to throw it in another direction without so much as a “sorry ‘bout that”). But to the cast member’s credit, the one watching the merge point -- while not showing perturbation at the situation (her Disney smile game was strong), when she let us in she sent that family to one line and the rest of us around them to another line, and gave a brief but noticeable (to me) look of “I got you, fam.”

I had all these plans for what the first thing I was going to do was when I got there. The thing I did was the thing I didn’t plan, but I’m okay with it...I wandered some of the shops on Main Street. Partly, I was looking for a hat, since I didn’t bring one (I brought sunscreen, but...getting sunburned, then shaving my head, can result in “hairless dandruff” -- the peeling skin just being made to look awful by a razor passing over it). I may buy this one tomorrow:

Overall, though, I wasn’t a big fan of the hat selections available.

But I went into the Magic Shop (take that, Magic Kingdom, Disneyland still has a Magic Shop) wanting to buy a Hot Rod. I found it on the shelf right as the cast member started asking if he could help me with anything. I told him that the Hot Rod was the first magic trick I ever bought in that store as a kid and the first “real” magic trick I ever learned (this is true), and he said “And it’s still a great classic trick.” (If you want a cast member who knows every last bit of their merchandise, experience over the last 30+ years tells me this is the store you want to be in.)

I bought it (I have a guest at my casino that it’s going to blow away, even though it’s one of the easiest tricks to perform).

There’s a sculpture (probably about 6-7″ tall) of Peter Pan riding Peter Pan’s Flight that’s surprisingly only $55, and I may get that too. There was a great lithograph of the organist in the Haunted Mansion for $40...the problem with wall art is that for everything I put up, depending on the size, I have to choose one or two attraction posters to take down.

There’s probably more that I’m going to have to choose between (or order online later since they’re on shopdisney), and part of me is worried that, since I would do Package Pickup rather than carry the things (other than the hat) around all day, I might forget to actually pick them up on the way out. I could have them shipped, but I don’t know how much that would cost.

Today was more or less my test run -- if I was so exhausted by the end that the walk back to the hotel was a pain, I was going to pay the $25 parking fee and drive in tomorrow. But even after all that time awake, the walk takes less than a half hour. And once I crossed Harbor and then Disney Way and started walking down Disney Way, there was only one other pedestrian with me (it was a madhouse from the exit to that point -- I was far from the only one leaving early, but even though I never understood leaving early when I was younger and had more energy...I get it, especially for people with multi-day passes).

I wore a PeopleMover T-shirt, and one of the cast members at Hungry Bear complimented me on it, so that was good (I thought about wearing my T-shirt of an anthropomorphic Pluto walking a non-anthropomorphic Goofy, but decided I didn’t want a bunch of kids asking their parents questions about it; when I left work this morning I chose an understated WED Enterprises T-shirt, but even with my A/C on for the whole drive down, I was a sweaty mess when I got here and I wasn’t going to subject people to that).

My shirt choices for tomorrow: the aforementioned Pluto/Goofy shirt, a shirt that is a parody of “The Jerk” movie poster but with Goofy taking Steve Martin’s place and the title changed to “The Goof,” or a Captain R3X T-shirt.

Honestly, it’s probably between “The Goof” and Captain R3X. The other one might freak people out more than I would like.

Oh, and I have to look into Oga’s Cantina. Earlier I saw a reservation available for tomorrow evening, but...when it asked me to authorize a credit card guarantee, I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to (I know they charge you if you don’t show up, but...how much? And am I just guaranteeing being able to go in and have a drink and enjoy the ambiance, or am I required to buy a certain dollar amount of things, like the $200 you’re committing to when you reserve building a light saber or a droid?).

Speaking of which, I saw a LOT of people, in my 3½ hours there today, carrying around “custom droid” boxes.

Not that I’m surprised a lot of people are getting them, I’m just surprised they’re not having them held for package pick-up at the end of the day, choosing instead to carry them around.

The things I did learn today: I do NOT miss driving in Southern California. You know you’ve reached Southern California when the left lane is street racers holding racers through heavy traffic, when people are diving from lane to lane to try and find the fastest way to their destination, when people randomly slow down to 10 below the limit, then accelerate to 10 over when you try to go around them, and just the general feeling of claustrophobia of being in a sea of so many bad drivers that you have to scan them all to try to anticipate what stupid thing they’re going to do next so you can react before they do it because if you wait for it to happen, it’s gonna be too late.

I also learned that driving down on Highway 395 sucks. For more than half the time, it’s one lane in either direction (passing lanes are few and far between, and in the daylight there’s that “is that the water-mirage effect, or a semi coming? I have a dotted line and I can legally pass, but I literally have no idea whether it’s safe to do so and I am NOT dying on the way to Disneyland). And there is a TON of road construction (a good 25 miles is one lane TOTAL, with them alternating directions in that one lane).The whole area around Victorville is a complete mess. At the intersections (of which there are many), they open up to two lanes for the last couple hundred feet prior to the intersection, just to go back to one lane afterwards. Which means that a LOT of people who have been frustrated for 100 miles or more about their inability to pass are trying everything they can to cheat the system and get ahead somehow before the road goes back to one lane.

Don’t get me wrong, we have plenty of jerk drivers in northern Nevada. But traffic is sparse enough that I see, at most, five jerks a day. Most nights it’s just one, some nights none (the advantage of working graveyard is there aren’t a lot of people on the road, and we’re a small enough town that even “rush hour” means going 15 in a 25 zone at worst). But in SoCal, there are so many selfish drivers that it just...wow. It’s a lot to deal with when I haven’t dealt with it in so long (and since I’ve never driven south from the 395 to the 15 to the 60 to the 57 before, so it was all new road to me -- this was literally my first time traveling more than 3 miles south on 395 since I moved to Nevada, and that’s the highway my casino is on). The claustrophobia, when I knew I had no possible out if anything happened, was scaring me.

It’s great to be back. I mean, I’m home at Disneyland. It’s also going to be great to leave and get back to a small town in rural Nevada.

Oh, but I may be meeting up with disfan tomorrow. He hasn’t posted in almost a year here (hence why I’m not tagging him), but I met him in person six years ago at my third most recent trip (this current one being the most recent, then going with an old friend in 2015 where I didn’t see disfan then that third-most recent one in 2013), and it would be great to see him again. I’m still in touch with him from time to time, and when I thought I had a date he offered to do something to help make it special, and while the date thing didn’t work out (I got a text from her while I was on the road saying that she was “getting ready” but nothing since then, even tonight when she knows for sure she missed the boat to It’s a Small World -- I waited 30 minutes longer than I wanted to to leave in case she showed -- though I showed up just about 30 minutes after check-in time so it wasn’t too bad, since a review of my hotel on Travelocity said they charge extra for early check-in even if the room is ready and I don’t know if that would apply if I had missed some traffic and arrived 15 minutes early -- but her text was after I had already given up on her and gotten on the road -- her text was in reply to one I sent at the time we were supposed to meet asking if she was on her way, her reply came over 20 minutes later that she was “getting ready” but since I was driving I didn’t see that until I got here because I’ve learned no to do other things and drive), disfan was a gem. So...I hope I do get to see him tomorrow.

And if any of you Disneyland people who I know on here happen to be going to the parks Tuesday, send me an ask (I’m mostly mobile, though I am on a laptop at the moment, so an ask should show up on my notifications...but maybe to play it safe, add an X to the end of my tumblr name and make it gmail and get in touch with me that way.

I really do enjoy doing the park on my own (which is probably why I didn’t call her instead of text her when she wasn’t there -- plus there was some drama the morning before involving her roommate and I’m worried that may be a regular thing, so I might have self-sabotaged this “date” a little bit by not trying harder than I normally would with someone who I genuinely do like). But I also like doing the park with friends, and if we’re mutuals here we’re already friends (or if you follow me and I don’t follow you and you want to show me that we could be friends that works too), send an email.

I’ll be in the park most of the day (I can’t promise I’m gonna rope-drop it, because my Wednesday/Thursday is gonna be a LONG day driving home and getting there just about in time to shower and get ready for work, then I have a 9am meeting on Thursday, so I’ll have been up since whenever I get up and check out on Wednesday to get back up to Nevada for work), but I’m staying at least through the Electrical Parade. I don’t care about a projection-only show instead of fireworks, and there’s no Fantasmic!, but...the Electrical Parade will be good memories.

Oh, and Laughing Stock, Co. was listed in the times guide that I picked up today (as a “Fri-Sat” thing, no mention that those were their last shows; they’re gone now).

Anyway, my phone (barely) made it the 3½ hours tonight (and that included a live broadcast on Facebook of my ride on Small World from the front row -- which Facebook says they’ve “partially muted” due to the use of copyrighted music, but the song “It’s a Small World” was never copyrighted -- it was written for UNICEF, copyright-free, as a gift to the children of the world.

Oh, and when I rode Small World, they were grouping two boats at once on the same side (that’s “bote” to you, Ian...unless only “botes” with names like Irrawaddy Lady qualify for that title). But as I was the first grouped into the second boat, and the cast member just said “row 1″ which put me with two other people (that row can comfortable fit three), I waited until he was done grouping and then asked whether I was in the boat with the two other people, or waiting for the next boat.

Hey, I was ODV. I can make you a great churro or box of popcorn (I really need to get some popcorn tomorrow -- a Disneyland trip isn’t complete without it), but I don’t know a thing about balancing boats.

At first, he just said “You’re in the second boat.”

And then, after a few seconds, he said “The only way you’d be in their row with them is if you were in their party.”

And...I got it. They were both ladies (one young, one older), and he was saying “we’re not going to put some strange guy in there sitting next to them.”

The only response I had was “that’s probably for the best.” Because he was looking out for his lady guests by not putting some strange guy next to them.

I mean, I know I’m not a danger to anyone with whom I may ride It’s a Small World, but he doesn’t know that. And he acted accordingly, and I dig that. Plus, it gave me a chance to balance y phone on the front lap bar (since I was the only one in the front row on my boat).

Must-dos for tomorrow:

HyperSpace Mountain

The Jungle Cruise

Indiana Jones and the Temple of the Forbidden Eye (single rider, hopefully -- I’ve already translated everything in the queue)..

Peter Pan’s Flight (but probably only if I can book a FastPass)

Waiting in the Standby Line for Smuggler’s Run(I hear the queue is amazing, but the single-rider queue is just a series of hallways and stairs).

Haunted Mansion Holiday (even though Jack should have his own darned attraction by now and leave the Haunted Mansion alone).

Splash Mountain (maybe last? I have a bad habit of being placed in Row 1 and I tend to make the front end heavy and the splashes are huge -- especially for me, and I’m gonna have my cell phone on me)

A grand circle tour on the Disneyland RR

Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room (this was what I thought I would do first today, but I worried about staying awake...last time I saw the show was the abbreviated version at Walt Disney World so it will be nice to see it in full again).

The Submarine Voyage with Finding Nemo (I had no interest in that but I’ve seen a thing on how they did it that I want to check out, but also part of it is still underwater so I want to try it).

The Sleeping Beauty Castle walkthough

The PeopleMover (that one’s not gonna happen it’s been gone for over 20 years and I am NOT risking a lifetime ban to go up and try to walk the track that is still there)

Matterhorn Bobsleds

All Fantasyland dark rides

Meet a nice lady and invite her to dinner at some place not Blue Bayou, since that’s booked, but maybe somewhere nicer than the corn dog cart (just kidding -- I couldn’t even get a seemingly nice lady to join me for a trip to Disneyland, even though I had one day’s cost covered through a friend and was willing to foot the bill for the other and I had made it clear that the room I booked had two beds [which it does] and that “things” would not happen UNLESS SHE WANTED AND INITIATED IT [I PROMISE I’M NOT BITTER about her not showing AS I SAID I MAY HAVE SELF-SABOTAGED THAT BY NOT TRYING HARDER TO GET TO TO COME WITH ME WHEN SHE DIDN’T RESPOND TO MY LAST MINUTE TEXT but the concept of dating as daunting; forgive the self-pity but I’d actually have to be worth it for a date to happen and I’m wasn’t worth it to her).

Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room (I’m back to “things I must do now)

Dole Whip

Maybe the lobster roll from Harbour Galley?

Popcorn

Maybe stopping my rambling for a minute (y’all know that isn’t gonna happen -- if you didn’t see it, it’s because Disney’s wifi crapped out again and I thought I posted it but it never posted).

But seriously, if any of y’all are there and want to meet, I would throw out every one of these to spend time with you (I’m so lonely!).

#kjuw89 #Kenny goes to Disneyland

[hollandroos]

Run To Me; Part Eight

You do not have to read this first book to read this one! - There are a lot of dad/mafia series, so if this seems similar to yours then message me for credit.

Blow a kiss, Fire a gun: Teaser Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9 Pt.10 Pt.11 Pt.12 Pt.13 Pt.14 Pt.15 Pt.16 Pt.17 Pt.18 Pt.19 Pt.20 + NSFW Alphabet with Mob!Tom

Run To Me: Prologue Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: Mentions of drugs! This is a big theme in this chapter.

Read on Wattpad! + Playlist!

- You were at work when your phone began to buzz in your front pocket, pulling your focus away from the customers for a mere second before you just let it ring. The gentle buzzing becoming almost nonexistent. Also, you knew that answering your phone during rush hour was practically prohibited considering it was one of your busiest. But then it rang again.

Gentle music rang through the downtown cafe. Waitresses dressed identically to you, not including your torn up sneakers waltzed around, their simple black aprons swooshing against their clothed thighs with both full and empty plates in hand. They were catering the lunch menu, the special being a soba noodle salad with roast vegetables and a choice of chicken or tofu, add a side of fries for only four fifty extra.

The walls were decorated with faded red bricks, the word ‘food’ hung up on the wall illuminating the entire restaurant while pale blue and green seats crowded the wooden tables and it was quite the sight- but a calming one, nonetheless. You collected empty plates and cups, balancing them up your arm or as Rosie called it, your ‘ultimate magic trick’- never having worked out how you could hold as many as you could at a time.

You found that working in a cafe was difficult, yet much better than working in a full-blown restaurant and while it was hard enough to work in a cafe you were lucky to work in one of the smallest cafes in town, one practically closed off to the rest of the world. Most of the customers were usuals, like the ninety-year-old couple that came in twice a week for a cup of tea and a shared muffin or the college kids that came when their workload grew to an extent unlike any other and they needed to unwind.

There had been a fair amount of times where you’d run to the bathroom in a panic, clammy hands slipping against the door handle and feet slapping against the tile floor when someone would come in with the same hair colour as him, eyes blown just as wide or with that same, maniacal laugh that still taunted you at four am. The bathroom smelt awful and it looked it too but for a few moments, it’d become your safe space, an unbreakable bubble of security.

Your phone buzz’s again this time into your hand straight after placing the dirty dishes onto the sink, drawing you into the corner of the kitchen where you were facing the restaurant, where you could make sure they wouldn’t miss you if you popped away for a few moments. The kitchen assistant- a sixteen-year-old boy sends you a friendly smile and you sent one back, his blonde hair tucked back neatly in a hair net.

The gentle clattering of dishes pulled the attention away from the waitress in the corner of the back room, voice muffled slightly by the noise as you speak into the phone. No one seems to give a second glance.

“Hello?”

“Mrs Holland?” The voice on the other end cuts in, voice slightly muffled with thanks to the dishwasher.

You really react to the old name, knowing that legally it was still yours, and Rosies. “It’s actually Y/L/N, but yeah, that’s me.”

“It’s Keira from the daycare- Ms Thomas.” Her voice was sweet, but not kind. Instead, sickly sweet like honey, like she was forcing herself to be kind to you for god knows what reason. “You need to come down to the daycare, it’s about Rosie.”

You remember Rosie coming home from daycare, handing you pictures and rambling about her day. Mentioning how Keira or Ms Thomas pushed her down the slide and Ms Thomas helped her with finger painting. She adored the older teacher, talking about how she wanted her curls to look like Ms Thomas’s black ones’.

You raise a brow, turning towards the counter to make sure no customers were waiting but instead, you find your boss’s hard eyes, cursing to yourself before you speak again; “Is she okay?”

You mouth an apology and he shakes his head, obvious disappointment, speaking up over the counter,

“Y/L/N, what did I say about phone calls during work?” His voice is gruff and slightly drowned out by the commotion of the coffee machine and dishwasher but you still hear it. The forty-three-year-old scratches his beard, trying to act intimidating though you see right through it.

Giving him a look, you hold a finger up signalling that you'd only be one more minute. Your boss grovels and groans before turning away, most likely to go back to bossing around your coworkers or chatting to the customers- there was no in between when it came to those two. He wasn’t a bad guy, in fact quite friendly but very serious when it came to work. Your conversations could go from Rosies’ trip to the park to stocking up the paper bags in only moments.

Ms Thomas coughs gently into the phone.

“She is- luckily, but she may not have been given a few more minutes.” The teacher sighs, rubbing her temples as she speaks. “We suggest you get here as quick as possible- it’s not good.”

You look around, seeing a large group of customers flood out.

“Okay, I’m coming now.” You begin to until your apron and the strings slip between your fingers, it slips around your waist.

The phone goes dead, line buzzing in your ear and you hang up, stuffing the device into your back pocket.  You turn to your friend Becca, with her hair thrown up in possibly the messiest bun and bags for days under her eyes. “I need to go, can you cover for me?”

She yawns, a lack of sleep evident. “Can do. Is it Rosie?”

Your friend agrees without any hesitation, picking up a plate of what looked like tomato soup with ciabatta.

Nodding, you give her a hug and hand her your slightly dirty apron, flour and what could be coffee splattered on the front before scooping up your keys, fluffy key-chain rubbing against your palm. “You’re the best, I owe you!”

-

You found yourself at Rosie's daycare quickly, rushing despite the rain that made it a little harder to drive safely. Your mind reeled with a hundred and one thoughts about what could’ve happened. There was no ambulance outside the daycare so that was good, right? No screaming kid could be heard, or teachers rushing around with panicked expressions and first aid kits in hand.

Your feet pad against the wet concrete, socks growing increasingly uncomfortable as rainwater splashes up, wetting your socks and the slit of skin that was accessible between where your yoga pants ended and socks began and the struggle of walking in wet, sludgy socks was real.

Your wet hand almost slips against the door to the daycare, pulling it open you’re invited by a strong gust of warmth and your shivering begins, teeth chattering. The daycare still looked the same as it did hours ago when you dropped your little girl off, the door she’d run through tugging you along still painted an ugly yellow, ABC’S hung up on the wall each painted with a different colour or pattern.

Turning to the front desk covered in colourful handprints from each of the children both in the past and the recent ones’ you send the lady a friendly smile and in return, she only lowers her shoulders, pixie cut styled hair staying in its’ place as she turns in her chair thanks to a mass amount of hair gel. She barely looks up at you, a look of pure disrespect already clear and you feel the need to shrink away.

Already you could tell that she was one of those people- the types that practically radiated frustration and a  pure dislike for the world in itself. Wrinkles decorate her forehead, a selection of bands on her right and left hand.

Despite her clear disgust, you act nice and plaster a cheesy smile on your face.

“I’m here about Rosie?”

She sighs, tongue running across her front teeth. “We can’t let you see her.” The teacher tells you, lips now pursed in a thin line.

She stares you down, taking in your reasonably dirty waitressing uniform after the day you’d had- it was four hours of clearing tables, doing dirty dishes and throwing ingredients together to top up the dessert cabinet. Of course you didn’t look your best right now.

You raise a brow. “What? I’m her mother.”

“We need to wait for the cops.” She hums, looking down at the book in her hand. It was the catcher in the rye, an eye-catching red and gold cover-

“C-cops?” You freeze, entire body coming to a halt including your breathing.

She sits up in her seat and looks almost even more frustrated than before, pulling out her keys but not placing her book down.

“Tell me, Ms Y/N/L, Do you know what this is?” The lady- Debby her name tag says, reaches into the top drawer and pulls out a clear bag, white substance inside and you feel the back of your throat begin to close up, choking on whatever words you felt the need to say.

“I do but I’ve never- I don’t know why-”

“This was in Rosie’s daycare bag, it fell out when she was grabbing her morning tea. Do you know what could have happened If one of our other teachers hadn’t of been with her at the time? What if your daughter had touched this? Even worse, what if she tried this?”

“It’s not mine.” You say truthfully because you knew exactly who it belonged to and what scumbag would be receiving every damn ounce of your anger. Your fists clenched, the thought of the black-haired, scruffy man making you almost shiver, immediately tensing up. “I would never, ever even think about bringing that near my daughter!”

He was vile, the worst of the worst and so deceiving, manipulative to the core.

“That’s not for me to decide, Ms.” Her tone was rotten, clearly disgusted with you but you didn’t blame her- you were almost a stranger, a parent she’d only seen once or twice of a child she most likely got to know caught with drugs in her school bag.

You take a moment to think about the consequences of the situation but your brain was clouded with a hundred and one thoughts, all about Rosie and the bag and Aiden and how maybe, if things didn’t play out, how Rosie could easily be taken off of you.

“I need to see Rosie, does she know about this?” You tap your foot against the floor nervously sludgy socks slipping back and forth inside your half a size too big sneakers.

Debby scoffs, deep brown eyes rolling back for a solid second. “She’s in the staff room with one of our teachers, she’s fine. Given a bit more time she could have suffered.” She taunts you.

“This is a mistake.” You choke on your words, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I wouldn’t do this, Rosie knows that.”

You want to shout at the lady, to tell her that it wasn’t your fault and you weren't aware but at the end of the day you were her mother, suddenly deemed responsible seeing as you didn’t keep a close enough eye on her and what was going on in her life, more so what your ex-was doing behind your backs. You felt as if you were standing in a shower on guilt, being pelted with false accusations by a daycare teacher when later it could be much worse.

“I don’t care, Ms They were found in your daughters that at the end of the day since you’re the only guardian you’re the one on trial here.” She places her book down, glaring up at you through her glasses. “The cops will decide who’s guilty here.”

Your hands begin to tremble, bottom lip slipped straight between your teeth as you hold back a choked cry because the thought of losing your little girl was worse than being questioned by the police, or charged for a crime you didn’t commit. You begin to grow fearful, remembering the smile she wore this morning and how you promised to pick her up at four like you did every Wednesday. Only soon she’d be expecting you to pick her up, jumping up in anticipation like she always did.

Without another word you look around with blurred vision, heading into the bathroom that was right behind you, hand already reaching into your back pocket. The bathroom door opens with a force, smacking against the wall and you swallow thickly though it’s hard with your throat beginning to contract with every passing second.

You go to your contacts with a shaky thumb, hovering over your father's number being scrolling until you reach Toms’ name because if anyone could sort this, it was him, right?

You turn your phone off before you could hit the call button and hold it against your chest, not wanting to rely on him to fix the issue when he could use it against you. Tom could easily deem you a bad parent and take Rosie, or just find it all too bland and hang up. What were the chances of him even picking up? Most likely reasonably slim and even then the thought of him using it against you came back.

Sucking back your fears, you get back into your phone using the same password you’d had for a year or so, Rosie's birth year and hit the call button. With a shaky hand, you bring the phone to your ear, bathroom wall cold against your covered back. With every ring, your heart beats three times.

It rings a few times and you count your heart beats, heart beating faster than you can keep up with and it scares you even more- panic nearing the point of becoming overwhelming if it hadn’t already reached that point.

“Tom?” You sniffle into the phone, tears both new and old sticking to your cheeks. You were sure that your makeup was smudged and smeared, only hoping the waterproof mascara had done its’ job and wasn’t smudged both above and below your eyes.

He immediately stood up, pen rolling across his table as his men watched intently from their place at the meeting table, papers and weapons shuffled around. “Hey- what’s going on?”

Something clicked the second he saw your name on the screen, knowing you wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency because you practically swore to texting, speaking over the phone was all too much and almost unheard of for his still legal wife. He remembered that much. Tom didn’t hesitate to pick up.

“Something's happened to Rosie and I just- I need you.” You were in shock, words coming out strangled and muffled as you nervously covered your mouth with your hand. Without really realising it, you bite down on your thumb hard, leaning against the cool bathroom door.

Tom nods his head towards the door, watching his men file out without questioning his motives, but Harry remained despite Toms’ hard glare. The mobster leaned back in the seat, making the black faux leather creak slightly,

“You need me?” He asks’ into the phone, concern lacing his voice. Maybe it was concern mixed with confusion.

You barely manage to get a word out before you’re overcome with a new wave of anxiety and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that maybe it was all a nightmare and maybe you hadn’t screwed up by doing what you’d done. “I can’t- I can’t see her, please.”

“Tom, you have stuff to do-” Harry interrupts the phone conversation because while he couldn't hear you, he could feel Tom’s concentration shifting.

There wasn’t really a debate in his head on whether or not he wanted to stay here and sort out people that hadn’t been behaving as they should be or helping you and his daughter. His feet pad against the wooden floor, hitting the weaved rug as he tries to collect his things. He was in a rush, almost tripping up as he makes it to the other side of the room, managing not to trip up on any of the floorboards.

“I’ll come right now, text me the address, okay?” Tom tugs at his hair, Harry remaining in his seat.

“I think I’m going to lose her.” You whisper, more so to yourself then Tom but he hears it as clear as day through the phone and feels his heartbeat pick up. You sounded so broke, like the thought of losing her was enough to push you over the edge and Tom swallows thickly, remembering that the last time he heard you like that was in a hospital bed.

“I’ll be there before you know it,” He stops himself, fast hands picking up his coat and keys. “It’s going to be okay.” He supports the phone with his neck and ear, sliding his jacket onto one hand as he takes the device into his spare hand and hangs up, stuffing it into his back pocket.

“Tom-” Harry cuts in, frustration evident in his voice but Tom was almost too distracted by collecting his things to notice.

“This is important.” He admits, tugging his jacket over his shoulders, covering the plain white t-shirt and few tattoos that scattered his arms until only one peeked out where the sleeve ended, on the side of his hand, the words ‘tough luck’ imprinted in cursive writing.

Harry taps his foot against the floor, the sound was almost irritating to Tom who had grown to handle almost anything. “So is the mob.”

“Shut the fuck up and deal with it for the day, you can do that, can’t you? Or do you need me to talk you through everything?” Tom storms, feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket and reaches in to grab it out, checking the address. He thanks the lord that there wasn’t a lot of traffic that day.

Harry swallowed harshly, ruffling his reasonably overgrown curls. “No, I can do it. Go sort this out.”

He stops near the door, looking at his brother from across the room. “Look- get Sam to help. Everything you need is on these papers, finish the meeting and deal with the people on the list. You guys have done this a hundred times before.”

“I know what to do, go see your kid.”

Tom feels the need to do a little skip at the words- ‘your kid.’ He pulls the door open, ignoring the way his keys dig into his wrist from the weird angle they sat on and headed down the hallway, ignoring glances from his men on the way.

He makes his way to his car, not caring if the rain wet his once perfect curls, sticking them to his forehead messily or if his suit became drenched. Your desperation spurred him on, foot hitting the acceleration with a dreadful squeeze thanks to his soaked heels, wet suit clinging to his body and Tom realised just how much he hated the Winter weather, it was dreadful.

-

“What’s that?” Murphey, one of Rosie’s friend had asked.

A group of girls in the corner had snickered and taunted the two for even talking, whispering about how they must like each other and it’d only be a matter of time before he asked her out. Even at Four love was believed to exist.

Rosie picked up the bag that had fallen from her day bag with a gentle thud and poke around, her friend with the freckled face watching intently.  She liked how it felt in her hand and began to unzip the bag.

“I don’t know.” She mutters.

Before she could get it open it was snatched out of her hand and Rosie jumps back in fright, her butt almost hitting the concrete as she fell back and she swore she grazed her elbows, ultimately beginning to tear up as her arms begin to hurt.

Rosie didn’t know how long it’d been since she was left in the room by Ms Thomas, at least half an hour but then again she didn’t know how to read clocks. Her little foot tapped against the floor, leggings hugging her legs as she looks around for something to do but comes across the rather high window on the other side of the room. It was next to the sink and a strange machine.

She looks at the game in front of her, a few Barbie dolls on the end of the table that she’d redressed at least three times and huffs, moving to shove them off of the table. They fall to the ground with a crash, an arm even falling off of one of the dolls and Rosie jumps out of the seat, landing on her hands as she collapses to the ground. The window was high, she knew that much.

Rosie drags the seat over to the other side of the room using the plastic legs, pants and huffs escaping her lips as she moves, almost tripping over a rug once or twice.

The small girl manages to push herself up on the seat, little pants of struggles escaping as she hoists herself up, fingers gripping the window frame as she glances out, standing on her tippy toes. Her eyes land on a grey car- her mama's grey car and gasps, excitement and neediness washing over her as she tries to get a closer look but fails, the staff room window was high up and small and she feared falling if she moved around too much.

The four-year-old climbs down, off of the plastic seat using the sink for support and makes her way towards the door, jumping to reach the door handle a few times before pouting when her fingers merely graze the thing. Racing back towards the wall to grab the chair, she pulls it back to the window while the plastic scratches against the floor sickeningly but Rosie doesn’t stop, her persistence key. She climbs up again completely ignoring Ms Thomas’s instructions to sit and play with the lego for a while.

She climbs up just like before, huffing when she stands on the back of her dress and almost falls backwards and if it weren’t for the fact that she managed to catch her balance then she definitely would have. The small girl grips the handle, twisting it and the door swings open with a gentle creek.

“Coming, Mommy.” She mutters, jumping off of the seat.

The poor girl didn’t know why she was alone in the room, left with only a few barbies and a two-player board game when there was no one to play with her but she did get a shock when a bag was snatched out of her hand- one her mom must’ve put into her bag. 

At first, she thought it was some kind of candy or broken chalk- so she was confused when the teachers began to scold her, wet tears collecting in her eyes.

Her shoes hit the ground with a gentle ‘smack’, bottom of her sneakers taking the impact and Rosie peeks out, making sure no teachers were in sight before she takes off, running as fast as her little legs can carry her.

She shivers as she gets outside, the cool air smacking against her little body knocking her back slightly straight after pushing the door open and she feels tempted to go back inside and grab her coat that was still in her day bag, but then remembers that Mrs Thomas had her day bag- and her animal crackers.

She could see your car across the road, and if she squinted she could make out her deep blue car seat in the back seat and jumps up, little breathes escaping as she jumps up as high as she can, fingers managing to hook around the lock that she’d watched you undo multiple times before and the gate swings open with her on it, quickly jumping off before it could close again she manages to creep through, leggings growing wet when she jumps through a puddle she hadn’t seen until she was in it.

Rosie didn’t know what made her think this was a good idea, to escape her daycare and make her way over to you but she saw your car- so you must’ve been waiting for her, right? And Ms Thomson hadn’t come back so Rosie had taken it upon herself to come to you- like a surprise!

Dead, fallen leaves and worm float around in the many puddles and Rosie ignores the desire to bend down and pick out the worms, to name each one of them and maybe take them home.

She slips through the now open gate, racing towards the road with soaking wet sneakers and barely stops at the edge of the footpath, trying to remember what her mommy had said about crossing roads but fails to remember. Rosie puts one foot onto the road, before the next and before she knows it she’s in a full blown sprint- tears making her eyes glassy and sight blurry and the closer she gets to the car she can’t help but get excited about going home to Peter and the television, as well as whatever yummy snacks were waiting in the pantry.

She thought about going home to the warm apartment where Peter and Coral were waiting for her, Coral sitting next to Peters’ tank to keep him company and an episode of max and ruby ready to play on the television. Maybe her mom could get her animal crackers off of Ms Thomas and they could enjoy them together- but not the Elephant ones’ of course, Rosie never let anyone touch those ones’ because they reminded her too much of her stuffed elephant-

Maybe if Rosie wasn’t as excited then she would’ve seen it coming. If her eyes weren’t so glassy after earlier activities then she would’ve seen the lights, or if it wasn't raining as heavy as it was then she would’ve heard the vehicle coming or someone calling out her name. All she knew was that it hurt like hell and with every passing second, she felt her vision blurring.

She didn’t know when it started to hurt- heck she couldn’t even really point out where it hurt as she stared up at the grey clouds and she swore she heard thunder crackling in the distance, a wicked booming as raindrops fell around her. They wet her pretty dress, dirt staining her jet black leggings which Rosie was more concerned about then the fact her entire body felt as if it were on fire, a metallic taste forming on her tongue.

“Help!” A voice called, once familiar to her but she still struggled to recognise. Rosie takes a deep breath- or tries too, but only ends up sobbing really just noticing the pain that spread through one of her arms, and the suffocating feeling that arose in her chest. “Someone get help!”

Rosie wasn’t born screaming and crying like most babies. Her arms didn’t flail around wildly the second she was pulled from the womb. She didn’t nearly deafen half the nurses in the room and her presence didn’t hit you like a ton of bricks- nor wash waves of relief over you.

She was born quietly, eyes squeezed shut and body nearly stiff in the nurse's arms. Not a single cry slipped her lips and your first feeling wasn’t relief, it was panic. Panic settled in as you didn’t hear your babies cry or the coe of congratulations from nurses but instead met with bodies rushing around the room in sea blue scrubs as they shared hushed whispers, your baby being passed around like a gift on Christmas eve.

Her first ever noise was at five fifty-three am in the morning, a small mew as she met your chest wrapped in a baby pink blanket. Her fingers were peeking out, wrinkly and nowhere near the size of your own and she yawned, a little sound escaping the back of your throat but she didn’t cry for the first time until five fifty-six.

In a single second, you went from feeling utterly alone in the world, from having absolutely no one to having someone.

Rosie was quiet from birth. She didn’t cry unless she was in pain or really needed something, only speaking up when she desperately had something to say.

-

Did someone say... we’re about to get some more Holland family moments?

PART 9

Let’s talk about this chapter! Favourite parts, what you want to see next etc :)

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#tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #mob!tom #dad!tom #tom holland reader insert #tom holland angst #mobster tom holland

[ellieaelious]

Ellie Aelious }{Multiverse OC}{Post Fire Crisis

A/N: Finally complete!!! It was a long road, and took way too long, but it is finally finished! I ended up cutting a lot of things from it that did not have to do with her character, which helped a lot. If anyone has any questions, please feel free to DM me. I’ve been working on her for about fifteen years, and I still don’t have all the kinks worked out, but it’s been a fun road to get here!

This is Ellie after she gains control over the fire realm and the element of fire, all the way through her worlds Armageddon. Ten years pass in the human realm, while over 5,000 pass in the elemental realms. You have the option of choosing what stage of her life you interact with her, or I can toss her at you during a time I believe will best suit our roleplay.

So when you see an x-z that means that depending on the time frame, is dependent on when she looks or acts like X or Z. She will also change and grow in the threads we have.

Credit: Big-Ass Character Sheet by Character-Resources This is going to be what I use from now on for all of my muses, regardless if they are OC or canon. Everyone can get a good idea of them, and it will also help me when it comes to writing, since I won’t have to explain every single thing over and over again.

Verse: Realms series (book series I’m writing) Date: 7/18/2019 Full Name: Ellen Sebastiana O’Donnelly Pronunciation: El-en Sea-bass-tea-ah-na Oh-Don-el-ee Nickname/Alias: Ellie Aelious Meaning: Ellie-Pet form of Ellen or more commonly Eleanor, which itself is of Hebrew origin and comes from the Hebrew element 'el' meaning 'god' and 'or' meaning light, so the name means 'God is my light' or 'God is my candle'. Aelious-The Realmain form of “Aelius” which is a Roman family name which was possibly derived from the Greek word 'ηλιος (helios) meaning "sun".  Origin: Not going to lie. I thought of the name and then the meaning just worked. That’s usually how I pick common names. For other languages, I research them. I seriously thought I made up Aelious, until Google said “Did you mean Aelius. Title: Ruler/Commander, Healer, Priest Pet Name: Aelious is actually a surname and nickname given to her by Cynbel (jfc I gotta do him too). ID Number: AR-24601 Signature: She’s ambidextrous, and before the loss of her left arm was left dominant. She still wrote with her right hand, but her handwriting is very elementary school level. Her robotic prosthetic could write perfectly, however after her arm regrows she is left with a limb that trembles and twitches when she goes to write. It makes her signature almost illegible, and she prefers to initial with her right hand. Gender: Female Gender Role: Very femme and lady like. Orientation: Pansexual/Polyamorous Real Age: Although she was born in 1983, because of the time differences between the human and element realms she is between 137-268 post arm loss, and can be anywhere up to five thousand after her arm regrows. Age Appearance: 21 Birthday: March 10th, 1983 Deathday: Armagaddon, exact date unknown. Birthplace: New York, New York, USA Astrological Sign: Pisces Zodiac Sign: Water Pig Immediate Family:  Legal Guardian: Earnest O’Donnelly (deceased) Mother: Tonalnan (deceased) Father figure: Cynbel Uncle: Dante (DMCverse) Half-Brother: Nero (DMCverse) Adoptive Brother: Peter Jason Quill (GotG) Mother figure: Marina Udonta Distant Family:  Father: Aluk Mal Tuk Grandfather: Shin Kage Grandmother: Eveelyn Ardelian Species: Realmain (I will be posting separately about this race.) Ethnicity: Celtic and Hispanic Blood Type: Formerly O+. She no longer has blood, and instead bleeds a silver liquid. Preferred Hand: Left Facial Type: Diamond Eye Color: Dark brown. White or red when using air and fire abilities respectively. Hair Color: Black Hairstyle: 

Skin Tone: Pale White when using air powers. Dark tan when using fire. Complexion: Clear Makeup: Very light make-up during special occasions. Has started wearing winged eyeliner. Build: Body claim is Samantha Wright

Height: 5′3-5′8 Weight: 538lbs - 598lbs Cup Size: A-C cup Facial Hair: none Shoe Size: US 7 - US 9.5 Birthmarks/scars: A large scar going from her left shoulder, across her chest, and stopping half way to her right. It goes from the base of her neck to the beginning of her cleavage, around to her back. It stops at the nape of her neck and right before her shoulder blades on the left. It’s from when she had her left arm ripped off, along with a good portion of her skin.

After her arm regrows, the scar mostly heals, only leaving a faint outline around her left shoulder.

She has a mole/beauty mark on her left side, right under her bottom lip.

Many faint and small scars pepper her body, visible under a blacklight or bioluminescence given off by plants and insects.

In an alternate timeline, (DmCverse), she has half of her face scarred by an angel’s attack. Her eye is red, and it goes into her hairline, all the way to the back of her head. Distinguishing Features: Her eyes are her most distinguishing feature, able to convey a thousand emotions at once. Because of her empathic ability, if she looks someone else in the eyes, she is not only able to read their emotions, but also alter how they see her.

As she grows older, her eyes convey less innocence, and more of someone who is weary. Although the light has not gone out behind her eyes, it has dimmed significantly from when she first became a ruler.

She always has an innocent appearance about her features, usually appearing dumbfounded by the world around her. It’s not a true reflection of herself, but something that most people see at first glance. Health: She’s very healthy and her diet consists of mostly meat. She works out daily and although she loves sweets, limits them to once a week. Energy: She generates, at the minimum, enough energy to keep two realms and their inhabitants alive. That is around 6-9 billion per realm. This energy is all in reserve, and not accessible for fighting.

Aside from that, in her home dimension she generates enough excess energy to command both air and fire. She is one of the eight strongest beings, aside from angels or demons, and ranks somewhere in the third or forth strongest. Her max power level sees her generating enough energy to destroy a planet the size of her largest realm, twice.

Outside of her dimension, her excess power is diminished by half, and she can only regenerate after sleeping twelve or more hours. Because of this, she uses physical attacks when outside of her own dimension. Memory: Her memories are tied to emotions. The stronger the emotion at the time, the more likely she is to remember the event in detail. She also remembers odd events, like someone mentioning rubberbands. Senses: Her eyesight is well enough she doesn’t need to use a mounted sight on a firearm. She can see for several miles, but cannot see in dim or low lighting.

She can feel vibrations and use them to navigate in the dark as well. This has helped since she began losing her hearing a century ago.

Her sense of smell and taste are better, able to recognize someone’s scent, and develop a taste signature for them as well. This also has the negative affect of smelling something horrible, and also developing a taste signature for it. Fortunately, her nose is not what she breaths out of, so she can avoid this most times.

Her sixth sense, if you will, is extremely high. She can read a persons emotions from the next room, feel the presence of demonic entities, and can hide her own presence from them.

Allergies: Strawberries, birch water, cut grass. Handicaps: 

With her hearing failing, it has been difficult for her to adjust to using vibrations to get around. While she can feel the vibrations of someone talking, she is still not fully able to differentiate between words.

After the loss of her left arm, she suffers from muscle spasms in her left shoulder. Even after her arm regrows, she has painful and powerful muscle spasms. They will often require her to take a moment to collect herself, as she’s almost blacked out from the pain.

Although she’s not mentally slow, because of her time being raised among humans, her actual brain deteriorates whenever she goes back to the human realm. This includes other dimensions that are heavily populated by humans. She will sometimes stare off into the distance or quit speaking, only to act like nothing happened. This is her healing factor attempting to repair the damage.

Highly prone to panic attacks. When she has one, she will find it difficult to breath and begin to disrobe so her lungs can have better access to air. These have lasted up to three days, and she becomes violent when people approach her during them.

She has grotesque visions of hell, and often hears demons whispering in her ear. This can cause her panic attacks, as well as send her into a temporary delirious  state. Dante and Cynbel are the only ones that can calm her down when she gets like this.

Medication: She usually chews on herbs and roots from the nature realm for ailments. She also eats ‘edibles’, a relaxant from the nature realm that has similar properties to marijuana. She eats them in marshmallow form, usually to get high. Phobias: Spiders, water, being alone, the dark, and whispering. Addictions: Salted marshmallows. She will do almost anything for them. Mental Disorders:

Humans call is schizophrenia, while Realmains call it ‘Heaven Sight’. This causes her demonic visions, auditory hallucinations, as well as her anxiety. These have been constant since birth.

She is severally depressed, often on the verge of crying. This is considered a serious mental disorder caused by her high empathy. There is no way to treat it, other than developing apathy.

Style: Ellie’s style is very modest. While nudity is common in the realms, and she is comfortable with it, she covers up completely when outside of her realm. Her military uniform changes, but usually consists of vests, cargo pants, and military boots.

Her formal attire as a ruler ranges from ancient Grecian/Roman robes, to something akin to Elvish dress. It’s the few times she wears dresses anymore.

When she is having a casual day, it’s leggings/jeans and a loose fitting shirt. She does enjoy dressing in flowing garments, and does have a personal tailor that designs her clothing to wear outside of the nine realms. In her later years, she wears more fun things, and sometimes will be seen in her brother’s hoodie and booty shorts if she’s woken up suddenly.

All of her military clothes are white, while her casual clothing changes in color. She does not wear black, as it’s against her vows as a sacred virgin. Grooming: Her hair is always well maintained and braided, only becoming messy in battle. Even then, she is quick to fix it.

After an encounter with a demonic entity later in life, she has kept her hair cut very short, only a few inches long. When questioned about it, she will change the subject immediately.

 As far as other hair goes, because she does not produce pheromones the same way as other mammals, she has little to no body hair to worry about. Posture: Her posture if usually back straight, chest out, chin up, and hands on her hips or crossed. If she is in a more relaxed setting, or not trying to be intimidating, she will let her hip cock to the side and slouch just a bit.

When frightened, she will hunker down and cower, making herself as small as possible.

Gait: She can’t help but have a very bouncy way of walking. Because she is usually just barely levitating off the ground, her motion is very fluid and swaying.

When approaching an enemy or upset, she will have a stalking manner of movement. Her shoulders will be forward, her steps heavy and deliberate, and fists clenched. Coordination: When in a fighting mindset, her reflexes and coordination are topnotch. Very little will get by her, and she is able to dodge bullets, as well as deflect them back to her opponent. It’s taken her almost two hundred years to perfect.

Outside of battle, she has tripped over her own feet. While levitating. She’s merely easily distracted, and doesn’t pay attention to her surroundings unless she has to. Habits and Mannerisms: 

Left over from when her time without her arm, she will often let her left arm fall slack, forgetting it’s her own. This will cause her to bump into things with it.

She wrings her fingers a lot when she is nervous, and bites her bottom lip.

When she is focused on a task, or trying to decipher something, she will whisper to herself, along with moving her fingers like she is slowly typing in the air.

When frightened, she will immediately bite her lips and make her eyes wider. It’s instinctive to attempt to bring out the nurturing side of whoever is frightening her.

She has a habit of lightly touching people without realizing it. It’s often confused for flirting, but it’s only because she is touch starved.

She will pull out a book and read when she feels she is being ignored, purposely ignoring the other when they try to get her attention.

Scent: Spring Jasmine by Wild Spirit Mood: Contemplative is her usual mood when you catch her off guard. She has a lot on her mind, and not a lot of time to herself. She acts happy around others, smiling and laughing, but it’s only because she is replaying old emotions to make other feels better. She is no longer ignorant to the world, and has seen and experienced the darkness it holds. It weighs on her heavily and makes her very tired.

Being an empath, her mood is also determined by those around her. If you’re mad, she’ll be mad. If you’re being rude, she will reflect it back on you. Although she is kind at the core, she will stand up for herself and give you a taste of your own personality. Attitude: She has a very positive and upbeat attitude, despite her circumstances. She always tries to get people to be happy and rally the troops.

She can and does do a 180, and will become angry, and ho boy, whoever is on the receiving end is in for it. She has been called merciless and monstrous in her rage. Stability: Her emotional spectrum is all over the place. As the strongest empath of her world, she is able to feel the emotions of every living thing all at once. As a child, it caused her attempted suicide. And while she has learned to cope, it does become overwhelming.

Her personal emotions can also be affected by someone else. This means, feelings of love may not always be hers. Expressiveness: She is always very open with how she feels. If she is choosing to be distant with someone, it’s a bad sign. When Happy: She will often hum a tune, usually a soft cover of a metal band. She may even do Tai Chi moves or spin if she’s really happy. When Depressed: She’s always in some form of depression, but at it’s worst she will hide herself away to cry in peace. If she does manage to break down in front of someone, it can make her feel worse. Although she no longer cuts herself, she is not above ramming her head into the ground in an attempt to knock herself out. When Angry: When she becomes angry, she will become quiet and stiff. Her movements are quick and deliberate. She is at her most dangerous when angry or upset. Current Residence: She resides in the air realm, but does spend time in the fire realm as she is now the ruler of it as well. Community: The air realms community is very calm and peaceful. Even the soldiers are seen smiling as they go about their day.As their main duty is to pray and rally the troops, it is a very calming place to be.

The fire realm is friendly, but they value feats of strength and often friends will spar in the streets. It’s all in good fun, but takes some getting used to. Family: Ellie’s only living family is adoptive or half related to her. She spends most of her time with either Cynbel or Marina, and then Dante and Nero. Friends: Beau is her best friend, and it’s rare to not see them running around together.

After going through training with Ansinna, she has become best friends with her, and appointed her as a personal guard. Enemies: Her father, demonic creatures, and those who would hurt the innocent. Bosses: She is her own boss, answering to no one but a higher ranking angel or the Lord. Followers: All inhabitants of her realms and army answer to her. Heroes: Marina, being a strong woman is one of her idols. Most of the women in her life she aspires to be like. Aside from that, mentors from other dimensions. Rivals: Her Dark Saer alternate, as well as the demon Heretic. Pets/Familiars: The last chimera of her dimension, and she managed to tame it with a stick of beef jerky. It’s a shape shifter, and is usually in the form of a snake with rabbit ears. It wraps loosely around her neck, or takes residence in her cleavage. Equipment:

Weapons-Air

Ellie’s main weapon is a grey staffed naginata. It has a wider blade on one end, and her dagger bladed fan on the other. She is able to separate it at the middle for two weapons. It is an extension of her soul, and so long as she has the will to live and fight, it is unbreakable and unable to be wielded by any other. When another does decide to wield it, they will begin to gasp for breath before the oxygen is pulled from their body.

For a time she used one of her mother’s desert eagles. After an understanding came about between Nero and herself, she let it fall into the lake of fire. After this, Dante had her customized guns like his made. She calls them Alpha and Omega. Over time, Dante has taught her trick shots, and her and Nero perform a similar move to ‘Jackpot’ called ‘Fragmented Reality’.

Her custom lever action rifle has a white body with silver, Celtic knot accents. The bullets fired are made by gathering matter, which means the farther the bullet travels, the bigger is becomes. It’s her preferred form of firearm, however she is only accurate within her line of sight. If an enemy is behind her, she is unable to accurately fire at them. Because she shoots from the left, the recoil to her shoulder makes her have to take frequent breaks.

She is trained in a wide variety of weapons, but refuses to use swords. She is also trained to use unconventional weapons, such as household items and the environment.

Weapons-Fire

When she’s finally able to control her fire abilities, her naginata reverts back to her bladed fan. She uses it for defense mostly, relying on her other fire based weapon for offense.

The chain whip allows her to keep enemies at a distance, and control their movement. Should one get too close, she will wrap her whip around them, activating the blades and using it as a medieval styled chainsaw.

Her guns are named vitam et mortem (life and death in Latin) while in her fire form. Vitam has the ability to raise an ally back from near death, while mortem can kill with a single shot.

Her rifle turns into a Day of the Dead themed lever action shotgun called Vespillo (Latin for Undertaker).

Technology-

The nine realms are far more technologically advanced than most other worlds. As such, she has some very useful equipment. One of which is her visor (I will provide references later). It’s a thin piece of crystal that forms across her eyes that acts to protect them, as well as provide an HUD with her stats, as well as information about the area around her. It’s linked to three micro bots that float around the area, allowing her to enter into a third person mode.

Later in life, the visor is replaced by contact lenses that connect through micro wires into the user’s nervous system. This allows the user to non-verbally control what they are seeing, and switch between 1st person, 3rd person, night vision, and HUD.

Before her arm grew back, she had a robotic prosthetic. While it mimicked the look and feel of her original arm, it was still traumatic to use. It was able to detach and move independently to scout an area, attack, and shock an enemy.

If she’s not using her visor or contacts, she does use her IDA. Inter-Dimensional Assistant. It’s a small piece of crystal that holds a super computer, and is wired to her home dimensions mainframe. She’s able to make phonecalls, hack into systems, give someone a physical, X-Ray, produce holograms, and all kinds of neat Sci-Fi stuff.

Recently, after discovering their enemy has been using habitable planets to farm humans, space ships have become a thing. She’s still hesitant about using them, but her current vehicle is able to use collapsible technology to change into a fighter jet, or a short flight space ship.

Accessories:

Tattoos-

On her left arm, after it grows back, is a faint purple outline of her veins.

On her right arm, after retrieving the crown of thorns, it wrapped around her right forearm and embedded into her skin as a tattoo.

Her legs are tattooed with a black background encasing Celtic knots on her left, and Mayan ruins on her right.

Her back has a cross burned into it, going from the base of her neck to her tailbone.

Lastly, on her chest is a black hand print from her mother marking her, over her heart.

Piercings- Only one in each ear.

Trinkets: Star of David necklace and cross earrings. Will occasionally wear bracelets during formal events. Funds: Money has no value in the nine realms. However, the fire realm has diamond rain whenever a volcano erupts, and any gold farmed is used for trade with humans. Her actual wealth, like all other rulers, is immeasurable. She enjoys giving it away, as she does not like the idea of money. Lovers: 

The former ruler of water, Mick, was her first crush. She loved him deeply, and had to hold him in her arms as he died. This pretty much scarred her from developing feelings for men.

Right before the death of her first love, she agreed to marry someone for a peace treaty. After the wedding, she locked herself away and protected herself with a powerful storm. A clone of her was used to kill Mick, and afterwards a very bloody and very quick war broke out, involving the death of her husband.

Cetrion is a former lover. Because of their virtuous nature they both found comfort in each other. It was broken off by Cetrion at the behest of Kronika. It still hurts Ellie deeply.

She has a crush on Leon S. Kennedy, and chooses to stay away from him because of it.

Erron Black gives her confusing feelings. She isn’t sure if she likes him, or wants to shoot him.

Enchantress/June Moone. A former girlfriend while Ellie was coming into power. Although she loved her, the relationship was not good mentally for Ellie and she broke it off.

Jason Todd was a mentor turned boyfriend for a few weeks, before they both realized it wouldn’t work. They are still friends.

Marital Status: Multiship Sex Life: SACRED.VIRGIN. (But I mean...boop her) Type: She is accepting of many types, so long as you are not a bad person. Even then, if you redeem yourself, she can find you suitable. This is not to say she will only date a hero type. She wants someone that is true to themselves, whatever that truth may be.

She is very busy, and will not have time for you 24/7. If she is called off on a mission, it doesn’t matter if you’re cuddling on the couch, on a date, or anything else. Her duty comes first. She won’t want to leave, but she will and apologize later. Her lover needs to be understanding of this.

It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you, but this is her lifes work. This is what she was created and chosen for. And when the final battle comes, you won’t see her for a long time, if ever again. Turn-Ons: She wants someone that she won’t have to worry about as much. It’s hard to love mortals, so someone that could live as long as her would be preferred. She doesn’t want someone that will worship her, as that can be seen as breaking the commandments of the nine realms, but will appreciate her. They need to be understanding that she is a broken person and not all of her pieces are there, and they’re not coming back.

If she can lay with you while you play with her hair, rub her back, and just be physically there to tether her to the world, it will mean everything to her.

Lastly, someone that will just be kind to her. That she can come home to after a long week, month or some extended period of time and be close to. She doesn’t need anyone that will get tired of waiting for her and leave, as her duties will always come first. Turn Offs: Someone that is cruel to her or others. Disrespectful, tries to change who or what she is. Just don’t be a moist bint. Position: Switch. Sub in her human form, dom in her true form Sub position: The Seashell. She loves to be on her back with her lover’s hands wrapped around her ankles, pushing them back behind her head and into the mattress. Dom position: The Amazon. With a set of hands holding her lover’s knees or ankles, another hand hold their wrists together above their head, and her free hand to explore or choke them. Fetishes: Human Form-

Reassurance/Praising. Either her reassuring her partner or vice versa. Punishment/Desecration. She has a deep seeded desire to be punished, and a dark part of her wants to be desecrated (i.e. her willingly breaking her vow). Biting/Clawing/Marking. Choking. Since she doesn’t have an air passage in her throat, it’s more or less the idea of it. Blood flow can still be cut off to her brain, giving the desired light headed effect. Submissive positions. She enjoys being put into submissive potions over ones where she is the dominate party. Voyeurism. She can turn and her partner invisible, allowing for public places to be a go. She also likes to be watched, and wouldn’t mind if her lover caught her playing with herself.

True form- Breeding. Her main motive is to become impregnated. She’ll want you to finish inside of her. Restrains. Having four arms now, she will want to pin and restrain her partner. Marking. She will bite, claw, suck, anything she can to prove that you are her’s alone. Dominated. Despite being the dominate one, if she is dominated in battle, she will present herself on her knees with her hands held above her head, butt raised to show she submits. Virginity: She still is one. 

Element: Air and Fire. Religion: Realmain, a mix of Christianity and Judaism. Morals: Ellie is a morally upstanding citizen, for her dimension. While her duty is to protect the sanctity of human life, she will kill those that seem innocent if she is ordered to. One of the messier jobs to perform is killing children that are blacklit for death. Because this is seen as holy work, she feels no guilt for it.

She is unable to willfully lie, but whatever someone tells her, unless she knows better, will be her truth. This causes her to be easily manipulated.

While stealing is a huge no, reclaiming lost or stolen goods is acceptable. By any means.

Outside of her dimension, humans are not protected. If it means obtaining her goal or completing her mission, she can and will kill an innocent person. This is only done as a last resort, and she does her best to avoid it. Motivation: From the time she learned of the prophecy, her goal in life has been to lead the virtuous life that would allow her to pass into the dark halls unseen by evil. She knows that she will go through horrible things (such as being raped, crucified, tortured and killed, only to be brought back) but in the end it is worth it. This will allow her to let the angels into the dark halls, and kill Aluk Mal Tuk, the half demon half Realmain that raped her mother. Priorities: The code of the realms is “For Realm, For Ruler, For God” and she lives by this code. She serves her God first, and the duties bestowed upon her by Him, and then her Realm. Relationships, friendships, and anything else are the last thought on her mind.  Philosophy: Ellie sees and feels the absolute worst that humanity has to offer. She feels the suffering of the universe, and takes pity on it. She believes that everything has a reason, even the worst things. In the end, it will all be worth it. Because it has to be, or what was all this suffering for. Etiquette: Ellie has very good etiquette. She was trained by Cynbel in the ways of royalty, and displays respect to almost all races. The more evil races, she will act more animalistic around, since they look down on kindness. Culture: Being from a Hispanic and Celtic background, Ellie enjoys celebrating the holidays and festivals of both. Within reason. She does not practice anything that would be considered idol worship. She practices mostly Jewish and Realmain customs as well.

Main Goal: Keep the world turning until Armageddon is upon her dimension. Even if it kills her. Minor Goals/Ambitions: Protect as many lives, human or otherwise, as she can. Desires: Ellie desires rest. She does not enjoy doing what she does by any means. It causes her great mental anguish to keep pushing herself, but she has to. For her reward, she only wishes to rest. Accomplishments: Freeing herself from her inner darkness, and having her left arm regrow as a reward. Greatest Achievement: Commanding both the fire and air realms. Biggest Failure: Her mother and first love had to die in order for her to begin to fight and defend others. Secrets: She is aware that Cynbel is her father. And while she was upset that he hides this from her, she doesn’t mention it. Regrets: Her suicide attempts. Worries: Failing everyone around her. Best Dream:  Being rewarded not just with rest, but someone that could make her happy. Worst Nightmare: Falling into temptations and being pulled into hell. Or living with her mother. Best Memories: The times she spent with Mick and her friends. Worst Memories: Having her arm ripped off during the battle for Hong Kong. Later in life, when the demon Heretic reveals they molested her, and the memories of the events come flooding back to her. Powers/Abilities: ~Generic/No category~ -Immortality. She can only be killed by a demi god, angel, or another ruler’s weapon. If she dies by other means, she will be reformed in the lake of life. -Super strength. She is able to lift up to ten tons with ease. Anything more and her muscles begin to break down. -Speed. Although not the fastest, she is able to move fast enough to dodge bullets. -Super reflexes. She can block most blows and react quickly to most attacks. -Stamina. Her body does not produce lactic acid, meaning she does not show signs of fatigue and has stamina for weeks. -Her senses are heightened to super human levels, allowing her to perform at her highest levels. -Empathy. She is the strongest empath of her world, emotionally connected to all living beings. She is able to take the emotions away from a being and put them in another, or store them for future use. She can easily read a room and someone’s intent before officially meeting them. She can also distribute and terrifying presence to stun and scare opponents, or produce a calming affect. -A healer by nature, she is a skilled surgeon with years of practice. With her speed, she is able to perform complex operations in little to no time. -She has a vast knowledge of herbal remedies, as well as traditional medicines. -She is immune to all forms of magic, but she herself cannot affect magic things in return. ~Air~ -Ability to completely control and manipulate the air. From creating tornado, to pulling the air out of the cells of a person. She is the embodiment of air, and it bends to her will. -Turn invisible at will. -Teleport by creating a small gust of wind. -Pull oxygen out of a specified area. -Flight and levitation. -Control other air based beings -Place her hand over someone’s mouth to administer CPR. ~Fire~ -Ability to control and manipulate fire and fire based things. Such as lava. -Encase her body is magma rock. -Breath fire. -Engulf her body in fire to protect her. -Command other fire based beings. -Generate enough heat to perform a super nova. Although not as hot, she will explode with enough intensity to destroy a decently sized planet. This causes her to black out for several weeks. -Heal those that have been injured by fire. She can take the wounds upon herself, allowing the person to be completely healed of fire based wounds. ~Holy~ -On touch, she can burn anything of demonic origin. This includes her brother and uncle, who are both part demon. -Using her right hand to calm the person, she can then use her left to reach into someone and pull a demon out by force. -Ability to see a demonic presence, no matter how it hides. She can also see angelic writing, directing her to hide or run. -Enter Limbo and Hell unseen. -Open portals to send demons back to hell. -While imbued with the power of the Lord, no one may sin against her flesh. This means that as long as she has her powers, she is unable to be raped or molested. -Light does not bother her. In fact, she can see perfectly fine in it. If a flash bang were to go off, other than the noise distortion, she would be fine. Origin: Bestowed upon her by the will of the Lord. Her dimension is Christianity based. Source: The source of her powers vary. While she can use hand movements, she mostly stands still and wills her abilities into use. Although some still require a source, i.e. breathing fire. Ability: While her abilities to control air is natural, it took centuries of training to finally accept and control her fire abilities. Later in life, she is adept in all of her powers. Weaknesses:

She is unable to survive in water. If it goes above her hips, she will begin to drown. Her powers do not work while she is wet, in the rain, or humid environments.

Her empath abilities become overwhelming, and it makes it hard for her to function in large groups. The more evil a person is, the harder it is for her to function around them.

While in other dimensions, she is able to die, since she is cut off from her main power source.

If someone drop kicks her in the gut, it will stun her for an extended period of time.

Demi god weapons, angelic weapons, fallen angel weapons, and another ruler are able to permanently kill her.

She cannot see in dim light to darkness. She will be completely blind, and greatly weakened.

Her hellish visions weaken her over time.

Despite feeling someone’s ill intent, she is usually willing to give them a chance.

Immunities: Fire and air based attacks have no affect on her.

Alternate Forms: ~Air Form~ Natural Ellie. This is the form she is always in, also referred to as her human form. She has a more Celtic appearance, pale skin, red lips, dark hair and eyes.

~Fire Form~ Taking on a more Hispanic appearance, her eyes are red, skin a deep tan from being burnt from within, and her hair sprouts red roses. Her attire changes as well, wearing a red cloth corset, dark red jeans and boots, and usually Dia de la muerto make-up. The more she uses her powers, her skin will burn to a crisp, cracking open and revealing the fire burning at her core. She will often have smoke coming from her pores, and cough up lava.

~True Form~ After entering her final life cycle, she gains her true form ability to mate/reproduce. Her skin becomes a light grey, her veins visible and a dark silver underneath. She grows another five inches, and her arms become longer. Her nails are black and pointed, coated in a paralyzing poison.

Her face is more pointed, teeth now sharp and look like they’re made of a silver metal. Her eyes are a swirling mix of greys and white, hair slicked back and bristly. Black and fluffy antenna come from her forehead, like a moth. Black stripes are along her sides and neck, opening up to reveal pheromone producers.

She grows another set of arms under her original, usually holding her staff weapon.

Extra Anatomy: Her lungs are actually pockets attached to the underside of the skin of her torso and back. This means that she breaths through the pores of her skin.

Favorite Colors: Greys, whites, and pastel shades of blue and pink Favorite Animals: Dogs and large wild cats Favorite Mythological Creatures: Chimeras Favorite Places: She has a pocket dimension that is a library, filled with endless books. Other than that, Greece and quiet beaches. Favorite Landmarks: Acropolis Favorite Flavors: Leather, sea salt, and cotton candy Favorite Foods: Shrimp mee hoon and salted marshmellows Favorite Drinks: Blackberry wine, coke, and sarsaparilla. Favorite Characters: Mal and Zoe from Firefly Favorite Genre: Romantic horror Favorite Books: Where the red fern grows Favorite Movies:  Westerns Favorite Games: Chess, even though she’s not that great at it. Dodge ball. Favorite Shows: Firefly, Star Trek, Telanovellas. Favorite Music: Heavy metal, hard rock, classical. Favorite Bands: Asking Alexandria, All That Remains, In this Moment, Flyleaf, and Les Fiction. Favorite Songs: This probably won’t end well by All That Remains, Hopelessly Hopeful by Asking Alexandria, ME!ME!ME! by Teddyloid Favorite Sports: Soccer and the Realmain gauntlet. Favorite Stores: Realmain market places Favorite Subjects: Math and art Favorite Numbers: 100, 34, and 7 Favorite Websites: Doesn’t have any Favorite Words: Bueller, bumble bee, amor Favorite Quotations:  "Lastly, waging war against good people is bad for the soul. This may not seem important to you now, but it's the most important thing I've said."— Joshua Graham Least Favorite Colors: Oranges and yellows. Least Favorite Animals: Domestic cats Least Favorite Mythological Creatures: Nagas, gorgons, Minotaurs, and Pans. Least Favorite Places: Anyplace with a dark history. Least Favorite Landmarks: Eiffel tower Least Favorite Flavors: Fermented tastes, rotten, too sweet. Least Favorite Foods: Eggs, liver, and hot dogs. Least Favorite Drinks: Beer, whiskey, lemon lime soda. Least Favorite Characters: Aeris from FFVII. Any character, male or female, that is overbearing about relationships and tries to force themselves on someone. Least Favorite Genre: Reality Least Favorite Books: Self help books Least Favorite Movies:  Ninja Mime 4 Least Favorite Games: Puzzle games, because she’s not confident in her abilities. Least Favorite Shows: Reality shows Least Favorite Music: Rap/Hip Hop, R&B Least Favorite Bands: Modern hip hop and rap bands. Least Favorite Songs: Dance (A$$) because it’s always playing at strip clubs Least Favorite Sports: Cricket and blood sports. Least Favorite Stores: Outlet malls Least Favorite Subjects: Wood shop, economics. Least Favorite Numbers: 6 Least Favorite Websites: Doesn’t have one. Least Favorite Words: Curse words Least Favorite Quotations:  “I’ll rid the world of each one of you,” he whispered. “Every single one…” ― Zoe Cruz, Beastia Languages: English, fairly good with Mandarin, Greek, Enochian/Realmain, learning Japanese, Yiddish. Accent: She has a heavy Southern accent when she speaks quickly, which is why she’s trained herself to speak slowly and hide her accent. Voice: Low and quiet Speech Impediments: Forgets words easily and will use gibberish as a replacement. Greetings and Farewells:  “Give me you.” -When it’s a close friend she hasn’t seen for a while. “Ellie Aelious, rank ruler, part time healer.” -Military greeting “May your path be illuminated and never darken.” -Formal farewell “I really hope this isn’t a real goodbye, ya know?” -leaving a dimension, possibly for good. State of Mind: “I’m just really tired right now. I can’t really rest, but it’d be really nice if I could.” Compliment: “Wow, you’re really pretty/beautiful!” “You look like you could take me in a fight, to be honest.” “You’re tall. I like that.” Insult: “I hope you have the life you deserve.” “God loves you, even though you make it a might difficult.” “You’re an X.” (often randomly insults people with a noun they’ve just used.) Expletive: “Oh fiddle sticks.” “Gumdrops and holograms!” “God bless America...” “What in the nine realms!” “I’m sure -person- is off somewhere, disappointing the Lord with their actions.” Laughter: She will start with a sputter, and then go into a deep laugh, sometimes even snorting, which makes her laugh even harder. Tag Line: “This is fine. I accept this.” Signature Quote: “I have to do this. I need to do this. I can’t worry about either of our wants, desires, because this is so important. My entire life is leading up to that moment, and I’m not throwing it away because we love each other. If I do, then what was all this suffering for?”

Role: Her role as a ruler means that she is responsible for tens of billions of lives, as well as protecting humans from the evils of the realm of darkness. It is a heavy burden, but if one is to suffer it, why not it be her? Fulfillment: She devotes everything to her position, and has found favor in the eyes of the Lord. She has been blessed that no creature may sin against her flesh, so long as she is imbued with His power. Significance: Because she practices self sacrifice, in her words Armageddon, she will play a crucial role that will determine the outcome of the battle. Aside from that, she has inspired many of her counterparts to go on. Her determination to live and overcome has proved invaluable. Alignment: Lawful Good “The needs of my Lord, outweigh the desires of myself.” -Ellie Comparison: The wind. Ever changing, gentle, but destructive. Symbol: Handprint Song: Under Denver by Asking Alexandria Vice: Carnal desires and blood lust. Virtue: Ellie has taken the vow of Sacred Virgin. This means she will forgo her sexual desires, romances, and pleasure so she may enter into the dark kingdom unseen

Humility and compassion are often associated with her as well. She doesn’t feel she has a very important role, and takes pity on the suffering. Defining Moment: When she crawled her way out of hell, just to bring her mother’s dead body back for burial.

#Ellie aelious character profile #finally finished #about ellie #praise the lord this is done #Woooot!!

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Hello there!

Thank you so much for all the kind comments. It's really nice having you all here for this crazy ride.

In this chapter we'll have a time jump, Susan and Jon have a very peculiar conversation, Peter is shameless and Lucy is shipping it all.I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 6

Three weeks passed by and Jon barely noticed them, but he did notice how central the Pevensies had become to Winterfell in the meantime.

Sansa and Sam had dedicated a good amount of time in explaining the basic history of the North and of Westeros and the current political situation. The Pevensies were aghast with it all and Lucy kept muttering something about “siblings” and “what is wrong with you people?”

They explained –only briefly –about their own Kingdom and how they became its rulers, but Jon felt there was much more to the story.

However, the Pevensies made themselves right at home at Winterfell.

Edmund could always be seen besides Ser Davos, helping with the training of the new soldiers. He was a quieter boy and very observant. Lady Lucy bonded very well with the Free Folk and became essential for the communication between them and the Northmen.

Sometimes Jon caught Ghost following the little Lady around and she appeared to be talking to him. Curiously to Jon it seemed like his wolf was actually paying attention to what she said.

Jon liked both Edmund and Lucy a lot. Well, the whole Winterfell was taken by the sweet girl, everybody always had smiles for her; even Arya, who seemed to take the youngest Pevensie under her wing. Edmund was good company and an insightful person.

Jon’s problem was with the other two Pevensies.

To be perfectly fair Lord Peter and Lady Susan were as helpful as their siblings, if not more.

Peter’s claim of being experienced with construction wasn’t a boast; he did know a great deal and under his guidance the reconstruction of Winterfell was going by faster. They were even talking about improvements outside of the keep –bridges, mills. He wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty either; Jon often found him working side by side with the men.

But damn it if that fucker wasn’t arrogant! By the Gods, he had a high opinion of himself; he was high handed and stubborn. Jon also wasn’t happy with the way he looked at Sansa, so he was keeping his eye on Peter.

Then there was Susan… Now that woman was infuriating in a way Jon never thought anyone before.

He’d always been calm and collected, but something about Susan made him want to explode.

She’d become central to the working of Winterfell. Sansa had been running herself dry acting as his Hand and Lady of the Keep at the same time. Susan stepped in, assumed all the daily tasks of the place so Sansa could focus on her political duties. She started overseeing the meals, the servants, the running of it all. She took over effortlessly, but still respecting Sansa’s position.

And she was good for Sansa! They had become fast friends and now it was rare to see one without the other. Sansa had been guarded since they retook Winterfell, but Jon saw that his cousin was smiling more now, and this was good, because he wanted her to be happy.

But Susan… Gods, that woman!

She kept her siblings in check –even Peter and his ego –but she herself was quite stubborn. She was all logic and courtesies and Jon never felt more of a base-born than when he talked to her. She didn’t actually treat him that way –she was perfectly courteous all the time –but she was so much of a Lady that he couldn’t help but notice how different they were.

The Gods knew she had no problems with speaking her mind to him.

Like right now.

“You need to find Ser Davos a wife.”

Jon turned to Susan and wondered –not for the first time –how she looked as a Queen of her own lands, because if standing there -with a borrowed dress, acting as a chatelaine - she looked more like royalty than he did with a crown on his head, he could barely picture her as a Queen.

“Excuse me?” When he saw her approaching him and stopping by his side he knew she was about to say something, he just didn’t expect this.

“Someone kind.” She continued. “Not too young, so he won’t feel he’s marrying his daughter, but not too old that she can’t give him children.”

She had some nerve.

Jon’s eyes followed hers to the dance floor where Davos was spinning Lucy around, an indulging smile on his face. The man had taken to the Pevensies so easily, like a father figure.

“Why are you saying this to me?” He asked her.

“You are his King.” She indicated. “This is also part of your duties, right?” Again, she wasn’t being disrespectful, but Jon couldn’t help but feel the jab.

“Besides…” She continued, her expression softer now as she looked at Davos. “That man deserves a family of his own to care for and love.”

She was right, of course. Davos had taken pretty hard the death of his wife and he was a man of family. He lost his son during Blackwater and it also hurt him a lot.

Jon knew he would agree to this anyway, but the fact that Susan was the one to bring this to his attention rattled a bit. It shouldn’t, but it did.

“I suppose that means I will have to find you a husband as well.” He didn’t know why he said it, but it was already done.

She turned to him, a brow arched elegantly. She didn’t need to say a word, Jon was certain she thought he was a fool for even suggesting it.

“I am quite capable of finding a husband for myself.” She informed him. “Not that I have any intention of marrying soon. Men are the ones that normally need help with that.”

Jon took a deep breath. “So I should find wives for your brothers?”

Susan chuckled. “Please do.” She smiled at him. “I’d love to see that.”

Jon let out a low chuckle, but Susan seemed surprised by it. Had he never laughed in front of her?

“Why aren’t you dancing?” He asked instead of following that line of thought.

“I’m a bit tired of it.” She informed him.

She had danced with many men already, so it was a good excuse at least. The Lords were leaving in the next morning, after a long stay in Winterfell. Not all the problems had been solved, but most of them had. At least they didn’t want to burn the Pevensies anymore and accepted that Jon wouldn't kneel to the Dragon Queen.

Sansa had decided that they should have a feast to send the Lords away and had worked with Susan to make it happen. 

“What about you, Your Grace?” Susan asked him. “You haven’t danced at all. There must be someone you could dance with. Perhaps one of your cousins?”

“I don’t dance.” Jon informed her.

There it was again, the arched brow. “No?”

“I see no reason to subject someone to my clumsiness.”

The admission startled a laugh out of Susan and she covered her mouth with her hands. “I am sorry, Your Grace.” She said, still laughing a bit. “I didn’t expect this.”

“It is good to know my clumsiness amuses you.” He told her a bit dryly, but there was a grin on his lips now.

She put her hands to her chest dramatically. “Never, Your Grace.”

Jon shook his head, and was trying to think of what else he could say when someone called her name. “Excuse me, Your Grace.” She curtsied and left.

Jon watched as the men watched her go. Lucy had become the sweetheart of Winterfell, everybody doted on her and adored the kind girl. Susan was also adored, but in a completely different way. The women respected her and the men… The men watched her walk by, charmed by her elegance, entranced by her beauty.

Two things Jon wished he’d never noticed.

***

“I just believe we all should be careful with these people. If they have the power to bring Spring…”

“They never claimed to have that power, Lord Manderly.” Sansa interjected firmly.

“But we cannot deny the changes we’ve seen so far!” The man insisted.

Sansa sighed. It wasn’t the first time in the last weeks that someone approached her regarding the Pevensies supposed magical powers to bring Spring to the North.

She almost wanted to accuse Bran of spreading that rumor, however it didn’t seem like something the Raven of Three Something or Another would do. But now half of Winterfell watched the siblings in awe and the other was mistrustful.

The problem was that the changes in the weather were becoming obvious. Spring hadn’t arrived suddenly to the North, but it looked like it was coming. There hadn’t been one single blizzard since the night they arrived, when before they had one every other day.

The daylight was lingering a bit more –not much, not even a full hour –but people noticed; and that same day the sky had been pure blue for the whole day.

It was a bit scary, if Sansa was to be honest.

The siblings, however, didn’t claim any credit for it. They kept doing their part at the keep, working alongside the people of the North.

Sansa was happy for their presence. Lucy had a calming effect on Arya, which in turn had a calming effect on everybody else. Edmund was a great company to Jon and Davos, and Susan, more than a friend to Sansa, was a balm to the Hand’s damaged soul.

Sansa only had problems with one of the Pevensies.

“My Lady.” Speak of the devil… “I came to remind you of our dance.”

Sansa turned to the fair-haired man and arched a brow. “Dance?”

“Yes, my Lady.” Peter replied smoothly. “You graciously conceded me this dance, remember?”

No, she hadn’t. He wasn’t even remotely ashamed of his lie and Sansa felt thorn between amusement and exasperation.

Peter Pevensie was a big problem.

Once upon a time –before all the things that Sansa wished she could just forget –he’d be like a fairy tale come to life: a real prince –a King, he’d say – with his golden hair, courtly manners and confident smile.

However, Sansa would never be fooled by those things again. His golden hair only made her think of Joffrey and his name… By the Seven, his name reminded her of someone better left forgotten.

She knew the look in his eyes, she wasn’t a naïve girl anymore and understood what man thought when they looked at a woman.

Peter might not look at her with lechery or greed, but he was aware of her beauty and interested in it. Sansa was dead tired of men lusting after her looks or title.

Her life would be easier if Peter Pevensie wasn’t so… Him.

“Of course, my Lord.” She nodded at him, before excusing herself from Lord Manderly and accepting Peter’s arm.

“Have you no shame?” Sha asked once they were on the dance floor.

“You looked like you wanted to be anywhere but there.” He said instead of answering her question. “I just thought I’d give you a graceful excuse to go.”

“So you fancy you were rescuing me?” She asked toneless.

“As a man with two sisters, I know better than to answer that, My Lady.” He grinned. “Just think of it as me being a faithful servant of your house.”

Honestly, most of the time Sansa was at a loss of how to react to him.

He was a good man –as far as she knew. He treated the people with respect, dotted on his sisters, cared for his brother and was hard working. However, he was also extremely arrogant, stubborn and had a bit of a temper.

Sansa didn’t trust that temper and she hardly knew him well enough to not be concerned about it.

However, if she was to be honest, Peter wasn’t forward with her. He was actually more respectful that most men who’d expressed an interest on her in recent times.

He did flirt and asked for dances, but he never took advantage of any moment: if they danced, he kept the proper distance; if they talked he deferred to her position; if they happened to meet alone, he always kept his distance.

He wasn’t pressing his interest on her, but still…

It was there, she could see it clear as day when he smiled at her, when he sought her out, when he looked at her.

Jon wasn’t happy about it and Arya had offered to kick his arse, but Sansa had refused it. He hadn’t done anything.

Yet.

Besides, Brienne was always a quiet presence, looming nearby. Even if he tried anything, he wouldn’t get very far.

Their dance finished and Sansa curtsied. “Lord Peter.”

“My Lady.” He picked her hand up and brought it close to his lips, but he didn’t kiss it. He never did. His lips never touched her skin, unlike some who kissed her hand with moist lips, or that time a very petulant knight tried to kiss her palm.

Peter never pressed the limits.

Sansa never knew how to properly answer to him, but damn it if the arrogant fool wasn’t always prepared for her.

“As always, my Lady’s beauty outshines the stars.” He offered once he had let go of her hand.

She arched a brow. “As always, flattery drips easily from your lips.”

“How can it be just flattery in face of a worthy subject, My Lady?” He asked her, before bowing once again and leaving.

Honestly. The cheek of that man.

***

“Tell me I’m delirious now.” Lucy demanded.

Edmund rolled his eyes. “All right. You were right. There’s something there.”

“Something?” She repeated like Edmund was an idiot. “Peter is completely in love with her.”

“I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, Lucy.” Edmund warned, but he sounded mostly amused. “Besides, if Peter gets too close to lady Sansa there will be a line of people to hurt him: Jon, Davos, Brienne, Arya…”

“Even Susan.” Lucy completed with a sigh. “They’ve become good friends and I think Susan knows something that we don’t.”

Edmund snickered. “She normally does.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “So…”

“No!” Edmund said immediately. “Whatever you are thinking, the answer is no.”

“Ed!” Lucy turned her eyes to her brother. “She would be so good for him.”

“I’m not saying she wouldn’t, but Jon isn’t very fond of Peter. Can you imagine that?”

“Sansa isn’t a kid!” Lucy insisted. “She doesn’t need his permission.”

“Lucy, no!” Edmund was firm. “Do you want to cause a family fight? Is it fair after what they’ve done for us?”

It was a low blow and Edmund knew it, but he needed his little sister to see what could happen if things went wrong. Romance was only perfect in books, in real life people got hurt and sometimes worse.

They had no right to meddle in here.

“You’re right.” Lucy sighed.

Jon didn’t like Peter all that much, mostly because her brother was too arrogant, but… If Jon had a lady for himself, someone gracious, calm and kind, he might be more open minded to the match.

However, Jon didn’t have anyone…

Well, Lucy wouldn’t meddle with Sansa and Peter.

For now.

Notes: Important to notice: I know that -according to the show and the books -Davos has a wife somewhere (in the show they completely forgot she exists) and in the books he has a bunch of other kids (I'm pretty sure in the series he had only the one who died). But anyway, for my reasons I decided to say he's now a widower.Anyway... 

Let me know your feelings!

#madame baggio #fanfiction #CrossOver #Crossover Pairings #game of thrones #The Chronicles of Narnia #jon snow #Sansa Stark #edmund pevensie #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #lucy pevensie #OOC #peter pevensie x sansa stark #jon snow x susan pevensie #gifs not mine #the spring that thaws winter

[imjustthemechanic]

The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor Part 2/? - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/? - Cutscene Part 4/? - The Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 5/? - Breathless Part 6/? - Escape at Last Part 7/? - Fox in Socks Part 8/? - Things Go Wrong Part 9/? - Downey and Out Part 10/? - Road Trip Part 11/? - Temptation Part 12/? - An Awful Reunion Part 13/? - Unreality Intrudes Part 14/? - A Call for Help Part 15/? - Loki’s Guests Part 16/? - Stan Lee Cameo Part 17/? - Reassessment Part 18/? - Midnight Invasion Part 19/? - Elevator Fight Part 20/? - Courage Part 21/? - Unwelcome Back Part 22/? - Darkest Hour Part 23/? - They Are Here Part 24/? - The Jet Propulsion Laboratory Part 25/? - Word of God Part 26/? - Avengers Assembled Part 27/? - The Houston Underground Part 28/? - Houston has a Problem Part 29/? - Onward and Upward Part 30/? - The Chi’Tauri Queen Part 31/? - Through the Wormhole Part 32/? - Prisoners Part 33/? - Arm’s Length Part 34/? - A Moment’s Respite Part 35/? - Ravagers to the Rescue Part 36/? - What Happened to Hiddleston Part 37/? - Haven Part 38/? - Steve Has a Terrible Idea

I should clearly never let my stories reach space because they always wander off on side adventures.  Also I’m gonna have to namedrop @copperbadge as a credit for the joke about RDJ’s life advice, though I’m sure they will have NO IDEA what’s going on in this fic.

When they returned to the dormitory they found that Thor had started telling the actors about what they’d been doing during their visit to the other universe.  He’d gotten as far as meeting up with Steve and Nat at the airport in Canada.

“They were not alone,” he said.  “They had Robert Downey Junior with them.”

“Oh, no,” groaned Evans.  “Bob’s going to give us hell about this for the rest of our lives.”

“You should not disrespect him,” said Thor.  “He is a brave man in his own way, who has done much good in the world.”

“I know,” said Evans, “but he’s also a tease. You should hear him when he decides to ‘advise’ me on my ‘life choices’.”

“We can probably imagine it,” said Nat, sitting down again.  She grabbed one of the fruits.  The others had been eating them by squeezing them until the sides split and the applesauce-like interior oozed out, and then sucking that up.  Steve tried it himself, prepared for something horrible, but it turned out to be both tart and sweet, something like rhubarb with a lot of sugar, but a texture more like a soft pear.  Unfamiliar, but in no way inedible.

“What did you learn?” Thor asked them.

“Aarflot was talking to the Captain again,” Natasha said.  “The Captain was telling him how we stole a Leviathan, which Aarflot seemed to find impressive, but then he added that we have some kind of wormhole drive on board. They agreed it couldn’t be a normal Chi’Tauri hyperdrive because that’s too big to fit in a Leviathan, which is a short-range ship anyway, so it must be something new and unusual.”

Steve groaned – he could tell where this was going. “They’re going to sell our ship out from under us?”

“That’s what it sounds like,” said Nat.  “So we can’t sit here, no matter how tempting that may be after everything we’ve already done the past couple of days.  We need a plan to get it back.”

She looked at Steve.  Steve was about to protest that Nat thought his plans were terrible, but then he realized everybody else was looking at him, too, with that same expression people always used when they were assuming he was in charge.  Even Evans, who should have known better if anybody did, was waiting for Steve to say something.  Why did everybody always assume Steve was the ideas guy?

“Well,” he said, “the last time we were stuck in a hotel with aliens who wanted to kill us, we went out the window, but we can’t do that here because we’re in space,” he said.  At least there wasn’t going to be another elevator here, since they’d seen no sign the building had one.  “Aarflot’s probably been told to keep us in here while the Captain finds a buyer for the Leviathan, so we’re going to have to distract him and slip out.”

“Then what?” asked Nat.  “We can’t go anywhere, he said Leviathans are short-range ships. I don’t know what that means in space travel but I doubt it’ll get us to Earth.  We would need the wormhole to go anywhere, and for that we need the tesseract, which might be light-years away with the Chi’Tauri.”

“We could go to Asgard!” said Hemsworth.  He turned to Thor.  “Heimdall sees everything, right?  One of you two must know how to call for him.”  He pointed at Thor, then at Loki, then Thor again.  “We’ll explain to him what’s going on, and then the Asgardians can help us get the tesseract back!”

Thor shook his head.  “And while we’re gone, the pirates here may dismantle or destroy our Leviathan,” he said.  “That is a risk we cannot take.  Besides, Asgard does not tangle with Thanos, nor he with us.  To do so would start a war neither side could support.”

Nobody had thought of that, and all were disappointed. “So… no help from Asgard,” said Evans.

“We’re gonna need somebody to keep the Chi’Tauri busy while we go for the tesseract,” said Steve.  “The Ravagers won’t help us without being paid for it and I’m not sure even Asgard has the money to pay all of them.  We’re going to have to get help from somewhere else, but…” he stopped, as his train of thought wandered off down a side track.  The Ravagers wouldn’t help willingly, but they would defend themselves.  “Okay,” he said.  “Okay, wait, I think I have an idea.”

“Uh-oh,” said Natasha.

“Don’t uh-oh,” Steve said.  “A moment ago you were waiting for me to come up with something! Just give me moment to think.”

The idea crystallized slowly, piece by piece. It was probably a terrible plan – Peggy might have called it suicidal and Hayley Atwell definitely would.  He’d be risking all their lives, but then, any attempt to get the tesseract back from the Chi’Tauri would be a terrible risk.  There wouldn’t be a second chance if they got it wrong, but second chances were a luxury the Avengers never had.  Besides, they were back in a universe they knew the rules of now.  That in itself might help.

“Well?” Nat said.  “What’s the idea?”

Steve told them.  He expected Nat to tell him it was his worst idea ever, but instead, the first person to offer an opinion was Loki.

“I’m not doing it,” he said.

“It worked for the Guardians of the Galaxy,” Hemsworth offered.

“No, it didn’t!” said Johansson.  “Did you even watch that movie?”

“Who are the Guardians of the Galaxy?” asked Steve.

“You haven’t met them yet,” said Evans.  “You probably won’t like them.”

“Well, does anybody have a better idea?” Steve wanted to know.

Thor poked his brother.  “Loki, if you refuse to be present in person perhaps you could cast an illusion of…”

“I’m saving my strength to switch our bodies back, remember?” Loki asked.  “If you wish to put that off then by all means, ask me to do card tricks in the mean time!  I will have no part of it.”

Nat thought for a moment.  “I might… I’m not sure it’s actually a better idea, but it may be an improved variation.”

“Will it still use me as bait?” asked Loki.

“No,” said Nat, “but we’ll need the cooperation of one of the Ravagers.  Don’t worry, whoever it is doesn’t have to be willing.”

Loki nodded.  “Then we’ll go with her idea.”

“Either way, the first step is to get out of here,” said Natasha.  She stood up and wiped mushy fruit innards off her fingers on her shirt.  “Which I am happy to do, because this is the shiftiest hotel I have ever been in, and I’ve been to Times Square in the 80’s.”

Johansson looked intrigued.  “Is that like the thing from the comics, where you’re way older than you look?” she asked eagerly.

“No,” said Natasha, “it was time travel.  I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Even better and yet oddly disappointing,” sighed Johansson, “since it probably means the writers will never let me kiss Sebastian Stan.”

“You should probably talk to Sebastian about that,” said Steve.

They started down the stairs in a group, having decided that the most powerful members of the party should go first.  That way if they were challenged, they could keep Aarflot distracted while everybody else snuck out, and then hopefully make their own getaway even if he called for reinforcements.  Hemsworth and Evans therefore led the way, with Steve, Thor, Natasha, and Johansson clustered close to Loki and Hiddleston, who were still the ones in greatest need of protection.

Aarflot was still in the lobby.  He was now behind the little counter, and since Steve couldn’t see a door that led into the area, he couldn’t imagine how he’d got there – Aarflot was surely much too big to climb through the little window.  He was chatting with Miss Alpha-Eleven-Three, who had a new arm now, though it didn’t match any of her other parts.

“Begging your pardon, Sweet-Beeps,” said Aarflot. “Our guests are here.  Did you fine people need anything?” he asked. His face was all smiles and his voice all helpfulness, but there was still the impression that he wanted them to know they’d been seen.

“Ah, Sir Aarflot,” said Hemsworth, stepping forward. “I did have one question.”

“What can I do for my honoured guest?” Aarflot asked.

“I know little as yet of the practices in Haven,” Hemsworth said, “but in Asgard and indeed on my friends’ world of Earth, it is considered unseemly that a prince should share his lodgings with so many others. My brother’s company I do not mind, and I can stretch to accept our guests, but must there be strangers?”

“I know I don’t sound like that,” Thor muttered.

“You mean Fishlips?” asked Aarflot.  “She’s harmless – she’s hibernating, actually. Won’t be up for weeks yet.”

“I do not begrudge the Lady Fishlips a place to sleep,” Hemsworth assured him, “but I would rather not be in the same room with her.  Have you nothing more private?”

“You’ve clearly never been on a space station before, if you think we have much privacy,” Aarflot told him.  “Maybe I can hang some curtains around her bed or something…”

With Hemsworth’s broad shoulders to fill the space around the little counter where Aarflot was, and with Evans standing next to him so Miss Alpha couldn’t see either, the others started to creep by one by one.  What they hadn’t bargained on, but really should have, was Aarflot having accomplices.  Natasha made it to the door and eased it open, and immediately heard an excited cry from outside.

“It’s them!” a high-pitched voice exclaimed.

There must have been a crowd waiting outside, because Nat had to step back from the door very quickly as at least a dozen people tried to surge through at once.  There were aliens of every description, from those who looked almost entirely human to things on which Steve couldn’t even identify an obvious head, all climbing over and pushing past each other to get inside.  Any hope Steve might have had that this crowd wasn’t there for them was quickly quashed. Actors and Avengers formed a tight group at the bottom of the spiral stairs as their fans gathered around them.

“Did you really steal a Leviathan?” a short, furry creature asked.

“Just… what, ten of you?” a more human-looking individual said.

“Eight,” said Steve, holding his hands up in honest fear that the crowd would crush him.

“Eight!  Just eight of you against a whole hive!”  A banana-yellow woman, complete with the sorts of black spots a ripe banana would have, and with yarn-like white hair, crushed herself up against Evans and put her arms around his neck.  “How did you manage it?”

“Uh.”  Evans looked at Steve.  “Teamwork. And, um… sit-ups.  Lots of sit-ups.”

This guy was an actor?  Steve rolled his eyes and turned his head, and found himself looking right at Aarflot, who had a satisfied smile on his face.  So did Miss Alpha at his side, and Steve was absolutely sure that they’d done this on purpose.  They knew that the party couldn’t leave the hotel if they were going to be mobbed the moment they stepped outside.

“My name is Musa,” said the banana woman.  “What’s yours?”

“Chris,” said Evans.  “I mean Steve!  Can you… can you excuse us?”

Aarflot clapped his hands.  “Now, now, everybody!” he said, stepping through the crowd.  “Our guests are very tired – defeating an entire Chi’Tauri hive is doubtless very hard work.  They need rest and, importantly, privacy!  Is that not what Prince Thor came to ask me about?”  He smiled at Hemsworth – a smile with a bit of triumph behind it.

“Verily,” said Hemsworth.

“Then we’d better make some more appropriate arrangements for you,” said Aarflot.  “All of you, come with me.  Miss Alpha-Eleven-Three, if you would hold back the baying mob, please?”

Miss Alpha held up the arm she hadn’t recently replaced, and the hand bent back at an unnatural angle, exposing what was definitely the muzzle of some sort of weapon.  People moved back.

“That’s better,” said Aarflot, shooing them up the stairs.  “Come now, let’s find you that privacy you wanted so badly.”

#fanfic #steve rogers #natasha romanov

[clexaweekofficial]

Some more ideas for Clexaweek2018, feel free to use these! (for credit for some of these prompts, here’s my pinterest where you can find them) 

Day 1: Meet Ugly: "We live in the same apartment complex and I accidentally leave my laundry in the washer for a minute too long and you decide to take out all my wet clothes to put in yours just as I walk in." Imagine grumpy Lexa who is beyond sick of some inconsiderate asshole who always leaves their laundry too long and she has things to do so she takes the wet clothes out to put her own in, and is caught red-handed by a gorgeous blonde who stands in the doorway with her hands on her hips looking equal parts annoyed and amused. Lexa goes on the defensive and snaps at her but the girl seems to grow more amused. After that Clarke starts taking her stuff out on time and Lexa is a bit miserable at the guilt and the fact that she kinda wishes she had an excuse to see the pretty blonde again... and then one day Clarke is late and Lexa’s a little too happy about that, especially when Clarke arrives actually sliding into laundry room before skidding to a halt, panting, and looks very curious indeed at the fact that Lexa only smiles at her apologies. They end up chatting in there for hours. Lexa finally grows some ovaries and asks Clarke out at the end, and Clarke kisses her cheek and tells her she can’t believe their first date was in the laundry room and Lexa blushes. 

"I work in a grocery store and I'm putting new items on the shelf in the refrigerated section and just as I'm putting a new carton of milk on the shelf, you reach in and our hands touch" LOL okay but imagine a fluffy au where Lexa's the one working at a grocery store and Clarke's in one of her classes and she's so pretty but Lexa can never work up the nerve to talk to her and then this happens and Clarke shrieks and flails and falls, bringing milk with her that goes all over the place, so Lexa rushes out to find a shocked Clarke lying in a puddle of milk and Lexa's face gets redder than a tomato (bonus points if she takes Clarke to the back to change since she has an extra shirt she changed out of for her work clothes, and then to make matters worse her boss walks in on her in the locker room with a shirtless, messy blonde)

"Human emotions can be bottled and sold on the black market. You are in desperate need of money and sell yours. It will take months to grow back, leaving you empty inside. The next day you meet her." Lexa doesn’t want to, but she does it, and then she meets Clarke and well...let’s just say Lexa’s so fuckin gay and Clarke’s her fuckin soulmate and she should probably be more freaked out by the fact that she is feeling already when she shouldn’t be

"You're a hitman with a conscience. Before every kill, you help the victim check something off their bucket list." Lexa's the hitman and is assigned Clarke. She watches her for weeks beforehand, learning her schedule, and pretends to be a student, 'meeting' Clarke in one of Clarke's classes and befriending her. Like always, she sets out to help her check something off her bucket list. She doesn't anticipate falling in love with her. I can't help but to picture Clexa on a road trip for this one, going somewhere where they can go on a hot air balloon together...

Day 2: Constantly mistaken for a couple: A twist on a fake dating au: Clarke and Lexa are dating, and then Raven begs Clarke to be her pretend-date because she doesn't want to show up to the company party where Wick, a douche she'd dated on and off, is, so she begs Clarke to pretend date her. Clarke does so and it goes swimmingly-- the bad news is, only two days later she discovers those same people are working on the apartment across from Lexa's, so she and Lexa try to pass themselves off as cousins/sisters/whatever to explain why they live together...but they keep giving each other really filthy pre-sex looks behind everyone's back like a game of chicken and pretty soon somebody is going to have serious concerns about their siblinghood.

“Hi sorry but I'm a youtuber and you wandered into my liveshow by mistake the other day and now half the internet thinks we're dating"

Day 3: At work: 

"Heroine: *on top of the Villain Lady holding her down* You are defeated! Villain Lady: you forgot about my secret weapon. Vilain Lady: It can only be defused by kissing me on the mouth. Heroine: ..... Heroine: you know you could've jut asked me out instead of taking over this city? Villain Lady: I'M AWKWARD OK?”

Lexa as a lawful-good hero, “The Commander,” Clarke as the chaotic neutral sometimes-hero, sometimes-villain who drives Lexa up the wall most times. Or Clarke as the neutral-good hero and Lexa as the neutral sometimes-hero, sometimes-villain who is smooth and cool and just operates to her own rules

Day 4: Accidental Stimulation:

(This could pair with Day 6, Famous)- Lexa is the lead in a play/show/movie and Clarke’s painting the backdrops. No one fucking told her that she’d be working the same time Lexa was rehearsing a sexy scene. Clarke’s gripping the paintbrush so hard it’s about to break because holy shit 

Clarke slept in and missed her final for art but luckily the professor is letting her make it up and the nude model consented to come back... except the nude model is Lexa and so gorgeous Clarke is going to bomb this final (alternatively, you could do it where the reason Clarke slept in and missed her final is because she was up for hours with a girl she’d just met...and that girl turns out to be Lexa, who is filling in for the model)

“I literally hate your guts but I have to get you fitted for this costume so put this on and and wow you’re actually pretty cute”

Day 5: Rivals in a secret relationship:

Clexa are on rival teams and everyone knows they hate each other and their teams play each other for playoffs and everyone’s freaking out because the captains of both teams are missing so there’s a search party and police involved and everything...and then they find them naked and asleep and covered in hickeys in the back of Clarke’s car

Lexa and Clarke are always going toe-to-toe at work and all the employees are kind of scared of them tbh but turns out outside of work they are super Soft girlfriends 

Clexa are on a reality tv program and the audience eats up their relationship and how they fight but they’re actually in love and secretly engaged

“So what are we” “Enemies with benefits”

Day 6: Famous:

Clarke is a famous celebrity who visits her friend Raven/Octavia/Wells whoever and they order a pizza and Clarke forgets she’s famous for a minute and answers the door and the pizza girl (Lexa) about has a heart attack and Clarke’s like omg shit wait please don’t tell anyone I’m here or the paparazzi will swarm, here come inside and share some of this pizza and here’s a huge tip Bonus points if Lexa can barely speak and is just scarlet-faced the entire time with the knowledge that she’s written explicit smut about the tv character Clarke plays

Clarke/Lexa's a famous celebrity and decides to check out one of her fans pages and accidentally likes a picture from like 176 weeks ago

Clarke and Lexa are both chefs on The Great British Baking Show (Live) and the entire world is hardcore shipping them and Mel and Sue (Or Octavia and Raven) keep making food-related dirty puns. Bonus points if the viewership keeps climbing so even Mary starts making little comments that indicate she’s a #Clexa fan. 

Lexa is a famous movie-star who escapes the paparazzi and her stifling body guards by slipping into a local library one rainy day and is immediately besotted with the pretty blonde librarian who doesn’t seem to have a clue who she is because she doesn’t really watch much television. Alternatively, Clarke’s the movie star and Lexa the librarian 

Clarke’s on that Skin Wars tv show and Lexa’s a model and she has to paint her body

Inked au where Lexa’s a tattoo artist and Clarke is her customer and Lexa’s super distracted by blue eyes and a pretty smile

Day 7: Free Day ideas:

Lexa works at a coffee shop and has always had a crush on Clarke, the beautiful blonde who comes in with paint-stained fingers and a distracted smile. Clarke leaves town for two years and returns...and can't believe Lexa still knows her order. (and Lexa can't believe Clarke remembers her!)

Lexa's the manager of the shop and one of the employees keeps drawing amazing art on the chalkboards, but Lexa can't figure out who it is even though she's been keeping a meticulous schedule to figure out whose shift it appears during

Lexa and her frinds always sit at the table a couple down from Clarke's and gossip in Trigedasleng, which happens to be a language Clarke is currently  learning. Clarke has been eavesdropping to try and improve her listening comprehension and oh my God is Lexa actually talking about how hot Clarke is??

There's a chess set at the local coffee shop set up in the corner and every morning Clarke/Lexa moves one piece. Later in the day, someone else always moves a piece too. Clarke/Lexa is dying to know who she's playing against.

"I'm a new hire and you're trying to show me how to use the espresso machine. I actually already know how to use it, but I'm pretending to be incompetent so that you'll keep talking to me. Please don't fire me.”

#Clexa #Clexaweek2018 #Clexaweek2018prompts #Clexa au #Clarke/Lexa #Clarke x lexa #Clexa fic #Clexa art #Clexa edit #Clexa moodboard #Clexa aesthetic #clexa prompts #clexa prompt #clexaweek prompt

[anythingstephenking]

Tony! Toni! Toné! has done it again

Did you know that Tony! Toni! Toné! has over a million monthly listeners on Spotify? Not bad for a band that hasn’t put out an album since 1996. Can you name a Tony! Toni! Toné! song that isn’t “Feels Good”? I can’t. Can you think of another band with three exclamation points in their name? I can’t. Do you remember when Panic(!) at the Disco removed the exclamation point from their name? I do. Do you remember when Ke$ha removed the dollar sign from her name? I definitely do.

The tangent to end all tangents, but we’re back with Danny (or more matured “Dan”) Torrance and his pal Tony with Doctor Sleep! I was so excited when this novel was coming out I pre-ordered my copy when it was announced. Then never read it. Whoops.

Since I started my King journey, I haven’t let myself watch any new King adaptations of source material I haven’t read, so I got to watch the movie for the first time too! Someday I will finally get to watch The Outsider. I’m actually on a bit of a roll - 5 books in the last month or so.

I ONLY HAVE 12 BOOKS LEFT! PRAISE BE.

King said that a lot of folks would ask him at book signings “What happened to Danny Torrence”? If I was King I’d probably says “I dunno man, he’s not a real person” so I guess that’s why I have no imagination. Instead of sparking annoyance with the insatiable requests of his Constant Readers, it sparked creativity, and that’s why King is king.

Alright, lets actually talk about the book. We’re back with the Torrance family, and for an extremely traumatized family unit, they’re doing ok after Jack’s demise. I mean, the ghost lady from room 217 shows up in the bathtub every now and again, but that’s to be expected right?? The Torrances are living in Florida, stating that there’s no snow in Florida. But they know there’s like, a lot of resorts in Florida right? Presumably haunted by a lot of old biddies sending their food back to the kitchen and tipping their ghost waiters 2%.

There’s a little bit with Wendy, a young Danny and Dick, who’s still around and helping Danny manage his shine. Dick helps Danny lock away the lingering remnants of The Overlook by quite literally locking them in boxes in his mind. Ok sure, I guess?

But we’re not here to find out how Danny’s awkward middle school years were, and so we skip past the braces and straight into the alcoholism. Because of course. Like many flawed-but-heroic King characters, a grown up Dan Torrance has an alcohol problem. Given who his dad was, I can’t say I’m surprised. Dan says it’s a crutch to dim his shine. Genetics and quieting your clairvoyance - the top two causes of alcoholism in the United States.

Dan’s character isn’t any more interesting than the other alcoholics in King’s novels unfortunately. He’s fine; standard “I wanna get better” bullshit. To his credit, he does turn his life around, joining AA, getting a sponsor and settling down in one place for more than 10 minutes. He does shitty things but feels IMENSE guilt afterwards. I suppose remorse is a character strength.

Turns out Dan isn’t really the star of the show here, it’s Abra, a young gal with a very powerful shine who has never even had a sip of whiskey. We’re introduced to Abra as a baby in a terrifying passage about her abilities. As a baby, she starts crying and wakes both her parents from powerful nightmares that include the numbers 11 and 175. Her parents can’t soothe her and it gets so bad they take her to the hospital, where she wails until just shortly after 9:30am. It was September 11, 2001, and the numbers the family had nightmares about were the flight numbers of the terrorist planes. An infant, warning her parents through dreams. I mean, girl’s got it.

Abra grows up and does a bunch of other stuff that can mostly be considered fancy party tricks. She makes small connections with Dan’s mind here and there, but things heat up when we meet The True Knot.

So The True Knot are vampires that aren’t vampires. Because they don’t drink blood, they drink “steam” which is emitted from those that shine while they are tortured. Cool. It’s a new and refreshing take on typical vampire tropes, and they’re decent, other-worldly baddies.

Here’s where things go a little sideways for me. Abra manages to catch the interest of the True Knot’s leader Rose, and you can tell the remainder of the book will be a cat and mouse between the good guys and the bad. We learn that the True Knot has gathered much wealth and resources (as the undead tend to do with all the time in the universe) and they have footholds all throughout the US, including Jerusalem’s Lot and Sidewinder. Yes, the Sidewinder where the Overlook once stood. So how, in gods green earth, did these folks not latch onto a young Danny? His shine was powerful enough for a friggin’ building to attack him, but he somehow slipped past The True.  Someone asks this question in the book and I was not satisfied with the answer.

Plot holes aside, the relationship that Dan and Abra develop is quite charming, and because Dan’s a recovering alcoholic and Abra is 13, this is a romance free story. They team up, and the cat and mouse is amped up because we’re not just chasing The True through the streets but through their minds, with Abra and Rose popping in and out of each others brains like it’s nothing. It’s accelerated even further by the True catching measles from one of their victims. Now, I am looking at you, American Horror Story Season 5, for using this exact same plotline in Hotel two years later.

In the end, Dan gets his redemption arc, a new home, a career, 15 years of sobriety, a family. Abra gets… to live a normal life as a teen? I suppose this is the most important thing when you’re 13.

While a fun, page turning story (I think it took me 3 nights to plow through) there’s really not much to chew on here outside of the fast paced plot. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. It feels to me highly personal retelling of the recovering alcoholic, with Dan fully duking it out with his demons and coming through on the other side. I’d imagine that the parallels with King’s own demons is not all that dissimilar. At times it does feel like reading an advertisement for AA.

At the end of the day, The Shining was a story of alcohol and isolation; Doctor Sleep is a story of sobriety and companionship. One ends well; one does not.

6/10

First Line: On the second day of December in a year when a Georgia peanut farmer was doing business in the White House, one of Colorado’s great resort hotels burned to the ground.

Last Line: “Until you sleep”, he said.

Adaptations:

I feel more and more letdown with every modern King adaptation I’ve consumed recently.

The new Stand miniseries? Hated it.

1922? Hated it.

The new Pet Semetary? HATED IT.

Lisey’s Story? Currently watching and hating it.

Dark Tower? COME FREAKING ON.

I’m trying to remember the last King adaptation that didn’t make me go “meh”. I suppose IT: Chapter One? Gerald’s Game was good too I guess. I absolutely adore Castle Rock, but Hulu cancelled it because they’re stupid heads.

I actually miss the “so bad it’s good” movies of the early years - I’d rather watch Cat’s Eye 20 times than have to sit through 1922 again.

I was anxious for Doctor Sleep because I love love love Mike Flanagan movies and he did a decent job with Gerald’s Game. Oculus and Hush are two of my favorite modern horror movies, and if you ever want me to jabber on for hours on end, ask me about The Haunting Netflix series.

Unfortunately, I filed Doctor Sleep into the “meh” column. It’s a hard adaptation; remember that the Overlook exploded in the book, but was still standing at the end of the movie. Dick dies in the movie, but he’s still kicking it in the book. The list of inconsistencies go on and on.

It’s like how David Yates had to clean up the whole patronuses-are-actually-animals thing after Alfonso Cuaron’s creative decisions in Prisoner of Azkaban. If you get that reference, you win today’s nerd award (TM).

So Flanagan had his work cut out for him and he does well at marrying the two parallel universe storylines. The most infuriating plot-hole in the movie was the fact that they let The Overlook rot after the Torrance family left? I mean, Grady killed his wife, two girls and himself, and the owners decided to keep on keepin’ on, but sure, they decided to pack their money-filled suitcases and close up shop when Jack Torrance bites it by freezing to death in the hedge maze? Sure thing.

But it wasn’t bad. It was just fine. It’s ok.

Would I recommend this movie to someone? Sure?

[chinatrip2018]

June 25, 2018

Today was our calm day before the storm. We had a light class period with homework that could be done within the hour. We reviewed what we did over the weekend and covered an AP topic about Chinese attractions. Our homework was like what we do for our Chinese finals. We have four minutes to prepare what we want to say and two minutes to say it. I was not expecting this, but I can see how it would help us. It was so close to school that I hesitated a little. I did mine on The Great Wall. These presentations cover the history, uniqueness, significance, and personal experience if we have been there. We did have a quiz before hand. Yes, I am taking quizzes while I am traveling. They haven't been that hard, but I have been told that they will get much harder.

Anyways, we had a break in between class and our next adventure, so five of us girls had a mini gossip session. I will not say what we talked about, but most of it was jokes. Nothing serious. Oh, and we had a Pocky Party in one of our rooms.

We had a field trip to 798 Art zone to visit a few art museums. We also walked around to see different stores. When we got to the first museum, we found that it is only closed on Mondays. I was surprised when we walked back out into the rain. It was lightly raining, so it was not terrible. There was a cute little shop that would send a letter to your future self. It would be ten years in the future that you could read what your past self had to say. It was a genius shop idea. Then, everyone seemed to be interesting in these whistles, that are like mini flutes called Okorina. My roommate got one, so I am stuck listening to her, as well as three others, learning to play said instrument. One of them is very good at picking up sounds because he started to play Mario, Harry Potter, ETC.

Our final field trip was to see the Chinese National Acrobatic Troupe. They were incredible. I mean, it was unbelievable. There were seven acts, each with a different theme and circus like act.

1. Entrance-strength. It was one man in the middle of the stage. He was using his arm strength to hold horizontal to a pole, as well as do handstands on the pole. The clown came and took the balloon at the very end.

2. Scull Warriors-acrobatics. At first I was scared because there were many people wearing skull body suits with heavy metal music which is not my idea of a pleasant thing. It was great. They were doing flips through hoops and handsprings and all that good stuff. I mean, they had a mini spring board, so they could really get height. The clown kept taking the crown off of the skull king.

3. Light of Bronze-contortion. This was mainly one woman doing all the tricks on a bronze pedestal. She looked beautiful and made it look almost effortless. She did many tricks that required a hyper-flexible body. The clown ended up with a small lamp of fire.

4. Dragon ball-juggling. Juggling may seem overrated, but this guy was doing some tap dancing as he was throwing balls in the ground. It took lots of coordination. It was more than just the standard juggling. He was able to juggle nine different balls before his act ended. The clown took a white Styrofoam ball at the end.

5. Butterfly Dreaming- Chinese yo-yo. I have always loved the Chinese yo-yo. It is such a beautiful thing to watch. Instead of the normal throwing and catching, they did throw, flips and handsprings, and catch multiple times. It was fast-paced, yet elegant. There is no other way to describe the beauty of it all.

6. Snake Gate -umbrella. These ladies did something that I have never seen. They balanced traditional Chinese umbrellas on their feet. They even spun them, flipped them, and switched them. It was surprising and very cool. At one point, one of the women was on her back, as another held her up. The one on the feet would be doing umbrellas, as another performer would spin as well. Then, they threw the one on the feet to the other to catch in the same position as the other that originally had the girl, and would spin the umbrella. I hope that makes sense. Anyways, I was amazed at their ability.

7. Treasure of my Heart- bikes and fans. This was much more than it seems. I thought it would be fan dances, but then it ended up being bike riding, no hands, 7 girls on the bike, 6 fanning themselves. It was a sight to behold. I mean, that takes a lot of work and preparation. This was the final piece that transitioned into the "credits". There was an actual credits page.

At the beginning, the clown I mentioned was blowing a whistle as he made balloon animals for different people. He was hilarious. Zhang laoshi (pink dog balloon) was hit on in a way by the clown. He waved to her and gave her a balloon animal. Later, David (purple bear balloon) was picked to be part of one of the acts. He was holding something like a metal pointer, as the clown placed a spinning plate on it. He was just standing and holding it, as the clown made it go higher. I thought it was great. He did get a balloon animal in the end. The music was incredible. It matched each theme and made each performance that much better.

Before we went to sleep, we had to submit voice recordings. It seemed that mine was the only one that went through. I brought an old iPad, both because it has a larger screen than the new and also less worrisome about getting lost. For some reason, it was the only one working to submit the voice recordings so my roommate used it to submit hers.Then, someone else knocked at the door and, eventually, everyone used my iPad to send in their voice recordings.

I hope the summer is treating everyone well. I wish you were all here to experience this with me.

今天不错。-OW

#summercamp2018