Honestly if anyone is proof of Drift compatibility being a real thing it’s the McElroys. Like they are so constantly in synch with their thoughts and humour that you can totally picture them still blasting off one-liners and goofs while simultaneously suplexing a kaiju in their jaeger, Rancho Greatjob
Lance plays games with kids all over the universe. When they laugh at him for losing, he shows them how to play fútbol and wipes the floor with them in revenge. He learns new pick up lines from pretty people at liberation parties and teaches them ones from Earth in return. He pets all sorts of pets, furry and not furry and big and small, though he nervously begs off petting the ones with poisonous spikes. He learns jokes from castle servants with loose lips. Learns curse words from street vendors with looser lips. Tells stories about home to people who almost lost theirs. Puts his feet on hundreds of different beaches, sand digging familiarly into the spaces between his toes. Learns millions of different ways people say hello, goodbye, and I love you. And even though it really sucks, being so far away from his own little beach, the knowledge that things like that are universal - things like games and jokes and love - makes the universe feel just a little bit smaller.
Author’s notes: Anyone want some fake relationship fluff? I got u, fam. I hope you are feeling much better, anon!! I really wanted a fluff fic done by Valentine’s pero candy is half off today so I mean, technically the 15th is better than Valentine’s Day.
Reconnaissance missions suck.
You run on a gamble of either getting what you need or leaving the planet empty handed. The mission called for gathering intel on the possible Imperial occupation of an Outer Rim planet.
“In and out,” Cassian tells you once you enter the city.