#|| No real definition of relationship here.

[permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88]

So I'm not ashamed, here, I'll out myself with this. I am absolutely, 150% guilty of staying in my little cave of isolation, refusing to make the first move to contact anyone, because of the fear of being seen as desperate. Annoying. Clingy. Insert whatever other derogatory word you can think of, here. I've always been a person that tends to go overboard with interactions, and that leads some to view me as 'too much.' But I'm also able (right now, a year ago I definitely wasn't) to recognize that this post? It is utterly, and completely true.

Sure, reaching out is terrifying. Especially for those of us who have a history of getting burned doing so, in the past. We can put our all into someone, or several someone's, and find out that they're just...not that into us at all (and this applies both romantically and platonically, in my opinion). And that rejection? Knowing our message may have been 'seen' but was not viewed as worthy of a response? Or, heaven forbid, finding out that we were actively ridiculed behind our backs for daring to have the audacity to think someone wanted to hear from us?

It hurts. It hurts, dare I say, like hell.

Here's the thing, though. Just because one, or ten, or a million people did this to us in the past does not mean that every single person we encounter for the rest of our lives will behave the same way. In fact, one could argue, it is remarkably unfair of us to assume that they will. Not everyone is out to get you, use you, or otherwise mistreat you, and I say this knowing that I was, and still am guilty of assuming so even now. Am I a hypocrite for typing this out? Probably. Does knowing this in my head make it any easier to break past years of self-inflicted barriers built out of fear of rejection? Nope. But (and feel free to call me delulu here) I hope that I'm allowed to at least read a post like this, and recognize that even if I am absolutely abysmal at putting it into practice, the OP is far from wrong.

What am I saying with all of this? Not much that hasn't already been said, I suppose, aside from the fact that we all (myself included) should be bold enough to send that text/email, make that invitation/phone call, rejection be damned. Because sure, whoever we're initiating contact with may still ignore us like countless others have, before. But they may not, too, and cutting ourselves off from a real relationship because we're just...scared? That isn't fair to anyone.

And anyone who does see these little instances of people reaching out as bothersome, annoying, laughable, or worthy of mocking in their little clique? They're going to view us in that light whether we stay in our shell or dare to break it down.

That decision, ultimately, is on them, and it's nothing we can control.

(Now it's time for me to practice what I preach, I suppose...toodles!)

i know it's hard. but i so firmly believe the strongest antidote to loneliness is reaching out first. and continuing to reach out. again and again and again. excise any scrap of shame you hold about being the person who texts first or pitches the plan or asks to get lunch. everyone is tired and busy and struggling. and afraid of feeling unwanted and unimportant. don't let the people you love feel that way. reach out first. don't be a ghost in your own life.

[misseverandever]

I CAN READ THIS, AND I WILL! LET’S GOOOOOOO!

omg was not on my 2024 bingo that I’m actually gonna read Melinda’s set for Anya

FRIST CARD: FOUR OF CUPS (the past)

that’s symbolizes Anya past implicating on her present, the cart indicates a need to experiences something new that brings joy and fills this empty space, something we see in our little girl eyes and i’m happy to see she’s doing good cuz in the past she certainly was a person that spends their days with their head down.

SECOND CARD: DEATH (the present)

The upright Death tarot card symbolizes transformation and the beginning of something new. It represents closing a chapter, leaving past experiences behind, we can think about Anya maturing and liberating from the trauma! Well in relationship (anya question) suggests the relationship may be stuck in a stagnant or unproductive dynamic, what we definitely can see, she tell his mother that he bullies her

THIRD CARD: THREE OF SWORDS (hidden influences)

The unseen problem huh? There’s a lot of them, well Donovan, Twilight, Operation Stixs… etc etc….

Whenever this card appears in a reading, it indicates conflict, disappointment, and misunderstanding (Well that’s definitely is the case), maybe Damian is definitely gonna be sad about why her approach to him, we know this is real cuz Damian already say before about people approaching him just because he is a Desmond and we know Anya have the same goal, but no worries is gonna be difficult but it can be resolved (they need to talk about this) !!!!

FORTH CARD: THE STAR (ANYA)

The Star in the upright position symbolizes hope, inspiration, and peace for the future. BUT is in the reversed position, so Anya reflects the feelings of hopelessness, confusion, and doubt as her navigate life's challenges and question circumstances. We see Melinda like that, and surprisingly Anya feel empty for her!

(So cute Anya being the star)

FIFTY CARD: TEN OF PENTACLES (the influence of others)

What kinds of external influences are dominating the situation? Well all of them! This card is important because it influences how others close to the Querent feel about the situation. AND GUESS ITS ALL RIGHT! This is a very positive card, and its positivity indicates that the path of challenges and difficulties has already been traveled, and now is the time to reap what is deserved. INNN THE RELATION WAAAAY (remember Anyas question not just because you know… i’m a shipper) is gonna be an harmony between them, whit a lot of happiness, cuties!

SIXTH CARD: ACE OF CUPS (what Anya have to do)

We see he is receiving, It’s often represents sadness, loss, and frustration, signaling difficulty in connecting. We know Damian is a difficult person, Anya have to deal with his feelings, is an important thing to do cuz if she don’t, they will not be together.

SEVENTH CARD: THREE OF WANDS (final results)

This last card is important because it takes into account all the six previous cards in its response. Here, we have an indicator of what the final resolution to the problem will be.

In this spread, the energy here is one of movement, so Anya cannot (and will not) stay still and she cannot try to handle everything alone.

The card indicates complicity, true love, and a strong connection. Sooo don't worry, as the frendship is real, and they will overcome it together.

SHE KNOWS!

SORRY MY ENGLISH IS KINDA BAD SO CAN YOU GUYS PLEASE FORGIVE ANY ERRORS IN THE TEXT? I was so exited to reed this, if you need tarot read dm me 🫶

[woniedarlin]

Two of a Kind

pairing: Soft! Jungwon x Soft fem! reader

synopsis: Everyone knows that Jungwon has a pure and innocent heart. So, when he’s seen with a female version of himself—everyone’s left wondering how the universe can handle two of them.

author's note: This was never planned to be written, but here we are! Happy reading ✨

caution: They cry over EVERYTHING. Cute moments? Tears. Sweet gestures? More tears. If you’re not ready for this emotional overload, proceed with caution!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

Jungwon was already known as the school’s most admired guy. He is polite, sweet, and with a smile that could melt hearts. But when you entered his life, everything changed. You were his perfect match: just as adorable, just as innocent, and just as over-the-top with emotions.

Your relationship quickly became legendary—not because of drama or fights, but because of how unapologetically cute you were together…. and perhaps a little dramatic… or maybe a lot…

One day during lunch, you sat across from Jungwon, absentmindedly tying your hair into a loose ponytail. Jungwon, however, had gone completely still. He sat with his spoon mid-air, staring at you like he’d just seen the most astonishing sight in the world. His eyes grew wide, his lips parted slightly, and his cheeks flushed pink.

Finally, you looked up, meeting his gaze. “What?” you asked, tilting your head in confusion.

Jungwon’s lips quivered as he let out the softest sniffle. “You’re… you’re so beautiful, it hurts,” he said, his voice cracking.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What are you—”

Before you could finish your sentence, you noticed his eyes glistening.

Actual tears. Forming.

“Jungwon!” you gasped, setting down your chopsticks and reaching across the table to grab his hand. “Why are you crying?”

“I don’t deserve you!” he wailed, covering his face with his free hand. His shoulders shook dramatically as he buried his head in his arms. “You’re too perfect!”

You stared at him, your mouth opening and closing in disbelief. For a moment, you were too stunned to react, but then it hit you—his words, tears, ridiculous sincerity.

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, feeling your own emotions welling up. “You’re so adorable, I can’t handle this!’’ To Jungwon’s shock, tears began streaming down your face, too. You clutched his hand tighter and sniffled loudly. “How are you even real? It’s not fair!”

Now, the two of you were full-on crying in the middle of the cafeteria, heads bowed and hands clasped together. Jungwon suddenly wiped his eyes and stood up. “I love you so much, I just—” His voice cracked, and he sat down again, clutching his chest dramatically like he couldn’t handle his emotions anymore.

You hiccupped through your tears, nodding at him. “Me too. I can’t—how are you so sweet?!”

The two of you returned to crying, oblivious to the whispers and amused stares around you. Your untouched plates of food sat forgotten on the table.

When the moment passed, and you finally calmed down, your eyes were red and puffy, and your hands were still clasped tightly together. Jungwon sniffled one last time, giving you a watery smile. “I just… I love you.”

You giggled through your sniffles, squeezing his hand. “I love you too.”

“They’re either the cutest couple ever or just plain insane,” someone whispered.

“Yeah, they’re definitely insane.”

But neither of you noticed—or cared.

🌷

One afternoon, your best friend floated an idea to have a double date with her boyfriend. You and Jungwon were immediately on board—how hard could it be? Except…neither of you realized that a double date was required…

Actual planning.

When the four of you arrived at the amusement park, things fell apart almost instantly. “Wait, you didn’t bring the tickets?” your friend’s boyfriend asked, his tone hovering between exasperation and disbelief.

Jungwon scratched the back of his neck, his sheepish smile doing nothing to hide the truth. “Uh… I thought you’d bring them,” he mumbled, glancing at you for backup.

You gasped, your eyes wide. “Me? I thought you’d bring them!”

The two of you exchanged horrified looks, realizing you had managed to mess up before the date even began. Your best friend sighed and pulled her wallet from her bag. “You two are so lucky you’re cute, or I’d leave you outside,” she muttered, going to the ticket booth to purchase tickets. Again.

🌷

After the amusement park fun, you and Jungwon found yourselves in an unexpectedly quiet corner of the park, your friends nowhere in sight. The two of you blinked around at the crowd, completely lost.

“Uh, where’d they go?” you asked, your voice confused.

Jungwon looked around, his eyes wide and innocent. “I thought we were just following them…”

You both turned in a full circle, eyes darting around as if someone might suddenly emerge from the crowd with a map or a sign that said, “This way to your friends!”

“I think… we might be lost,” you said, peering over at Jungwon, your brows furrowing.

Jungwon blinked back at you, his expression clueless. He had those big, boba eyes, “You think so?”

The two of you continued to look around, but it felt like the world was spinning in a dizzying blur, making it impossible to tell where anyone had gone. You caught sight of a hot dog cart and paused.

“Maybe we should just… get some snacks?” you suggested, still feeling a little lost but okay with it.

Jungwon’s eyes lit up at the mention of food. “Good idea! You know, I read somewhere that getting snacks makes everything better.”

You grinned at his enthusiasm, and together, you walked over to the cart, still holding hands. “Do you think we’ll ever find them?” you asked, tilting your head.

He nodded confidently (even though he had no idea where they were.) “Of course! We have snacks now. We’ll be okay.”

You both nodded as you shared a bite of your snack, still standing in the middle of a busy crowd, clueless but happy to be lost together. As you were about to ask him if he thought your friends would ever return, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“There you are!” Your best friend waved at you both, laughing.

You and Jungwon turned around, blinking like two confused children, both of you still holding hands.

“Did you guys seriously just get lost?” she teased, looking between you two.

You both looked at each other, “I think so,” Jungwon said with a little shrug.

You then showed the food. “But we found snacks!”

Your friends laughed, but the two of you didn’t mind. Being lost wasn’t so bad when you had each other.

🌷

As you and Jungwon continued walking through the amusement park, your attention was momentarily caught by a man who passed by, looking incredibly well put together.

You glanced at him, a little shocked by how tall he was. Woah ( •͈૦•͈ )

Before you could say anything, Jungwon suddenly stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened as he quickly turned toward you, a flustered expression spreading across his face.

“W-what’s wrong?” you asked, slightly concerned.

Then…with no warning….

Jungwon spread his arms in front of you, practically blocking your view. “Don’t look! Don’t look at him!” he said, his arms wide as if trying to block out the entire world—especially the man walking ahead.

You blinked, completely confused at first. “What? Why? He’s just a guy…”

“No!” Jungwon’s face turned a bright shade of red. “He’s a man! A man! And you… you can’t look at him!”

“But Jungwon, it’s not like I—”

“No!” Jungwon interrupted, his eyes still fixed on you. “I’m the only man you should look at!” He pointed to himself dramatically, puffing out his chest

ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ

“Are you seriously…?” you started to say, but then Jungwon’s expression made it even harder to stay serious.

“I’m serious!” he said with an exaggerated nod, keeping his arms outstretched. “I will protect you from all other men! You have no reason to look at anyone else!”

You giggled and stepped forward, warmly hugging him, “Only you.”

Jungwon smiled shyly, his arms slowly lowering as he hugged you back. “I’m just trying to protect my pretty girl.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” you said, grinning. “But I think I’m fine.”

He gave you a bashful smile. “I’ll be your shield forever.” Oh, Jungwon…

🌷

The only time you and Jungwon ever argued was over the silliest things.

Case in point: your 1st anniversary.

Jungwon showed up at your door, practically bouncing on his heels, his hands hidden behind his back. “Close your eyes!” he said, barely containing his excitement.

You laughed but did as you were told. “Okay, okay. They’re closed!”

After a moment of shuffling, he whispered, “Open them!”

When you did, your eyes fell on the cutest handmade pottery mug you’d ever seen!! (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥)

“Surprise!” Jungwon said, grinning from ear to ear. “I made it myself in pottery class. See? It even has little hearts on it!” He held it out, his eyes shining with pride.

Your jaw dropped, your heart instantly melting at his effort. “You’re kidding,” you whispered, taking the mug from him. “You made this for me?”

Jungwon nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! I wanted to make something special for you.”

You stared at the mug. Then, with a gasp, you set it down and reached behind you. “But I was going to surprise you first!”

From your bag, you pulled out your gift: a scrapbook stuffed with pictures of the two of you, each page decorated with stickers, doodles, and handwritten notes. It was a labor of love you’d poured hours into creating.

Jungwon blinked at the scrapbook, then at you. His expression shifted from pride to confusion. “Wait…what?”

You crossed your arms. “I spent weeks working on this! I was supposed to surprise you!”

“But, baby,” Jungwon whined, “you can’t just out-surprise my surprise!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? You’ll find that my scrapbook beats your wobbly little mug any day!”

“Wobbly?” Jungwon gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “How dare you insult my craftsmanship! Do you know how hard it was to make that? I burned my hand on the kiln for you!”

You snorted. “Well, I stayed up three nights in a row cutting and pasting pictures, thank you very much!”

Jungwon’s eyes narrowed. “Alright, then. Let’s settle this. Who’s the better gift-giver? Me, with my heartfelt mug of love, or you, with your scrapbook of sentimental memories?”

“Obviously me,” you said, pointing your tongue at him.

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine. But I hope you know I’m keeping this scrapbook because it’s adorable.”

“And I’m keeping the mug because it’s precious,” you replied, softening as you placed it on the table.

Jungwon dramatically sighed and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you. “I guess we both won.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, smiling into his chest. “But next time, let’s coordinate surprises. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said, leaning back to look at you. Then he grinned. “But you have to admit—my mug is better.”

You swatted his shoulder. “Don’t push your luck, pottery boy.”

🌷

For Jungwon’s birthday, you decided to bake him chocolate cake all by yourself, even though baking wasn’t exactly your strong suit.

When you arrived at his house, you held the cake box before you. Jungwon opened the door with a bright grin, but his expression softened into something almost reverent when he saw the box. “You… you made me a cake?” he asked, his voice soft with awe.

You nodded, suddenly shy. “It’s not perfect, but—”

“Let me see it!” He eagerly took the box, carefully opening it. His mouth dropped open when he laid eyes on the slightly uneven yet undeniably adorable cake.

“It’s so cute,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

You blinked, worried. “You think so? I know it’s a little messy, but—”

“It’s perfect,” Jungwon cut you off, his bottom lip trembling. “You made this for me. With your own hands. For me.” He looked at you, his eyes glistening like he was about to cry. Before you could react, he gently set the cake down on the table and hugged you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder.

“It’s perfect because you made it,” he murmured, his voice muffled and shaky.

“Wonie, don’t cry,” you said, laughing softly, even as you felt your own eyes start to sting. “It’s just a cake.”

“But you’re so thoughtful, and I don’t deserve you,” he said dramatically, pulling back just enough to look at you with tear-filled eyes.

That was it. Your heart couldn’t take it. He was too adorable and too sweet.

Before you knew it, tears were welling up in your eyes, too.

“You don’t deserve me?” you countered, sniffling. “What about you? You’re the sweetest, most precious person ever! How are you real?”

Jungwon blinked at you, his eyes wide and shiny. “Are you crying now?”

“I can’t help it!” you wailed softly. “You’re too cute!”

The two of you ended up crying (again) in his kitchen, this time over a cake. His mom walked in, looked at the scene, and sighed. “You two are hopelessly adorable,” she said, shaking her head and walking away. Her son really found his match.

🌷

Days later, as you and Jungwon walked home together, he suddenly stopped and turned to you. His expression was serious. “I have something to tell you,” he said, trembling.

You immediately panicked. “What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “It’s just… I love you so much, and sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be good enough for you.”

Your heart melted instantly. “wonie, don’t be silly. I love you more than anything.”

He blinked at you, his cheeks flushing. “You mean it?”

“Of course!” you said. “But wait—did you stop me just to tell me that?”

Jungwon scratched his head sheepishly. “Well, I was also going to ask if you wanted to go to the new ice cream shop with me. But it sounded more romantic in my head.”

Laughing, you grabbed his hand. “Yes, dummy. I’ll go with you.”

Later, as you both shared a giant ice cream sundae, Jungwon suddenly sniffled and started tearing up again.

“wonie, now what?” you asked, half-laughing as you handed him a napkin.

“I’m just so happy,” he sniffled, his big boba eyes shining with tears. “You’re too perfect, it’s unfair.”

You blinked at him, your heart swelling. “Why are you crying?!”

“I don’t deserve you!” he wailed, covering his face with his hands, shoulders trembling slightly.

That’s when your tears started to form. “No, stop—don’t cry!”

“But—”

“Now you’re making me cry!” you interrupted, wiping your eyes with your sleeves as tears spilled over.

Jungwon peeked at you through his fingers, looking genuinely alarmed. “Wait, why are you crying?”

“Because you’re crying!” you sniffled. “And you’re too adorable; it’s not fair.”

Jungwon, despite his tears, suddenly let out a soft laugh. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, reaching for another napkin and gently dabbing at your tears.

You hiccupped through your giggles, overseeing him dry your cheeks, only for him to realize he was still crying. “We’re hopeless,” you whispered, sniffling again.

Jungwon nodded solemnly. “Hopelessly in love.”

Jungwon paused, looked at you with that soft, adorable gaze, and leaned closer.

“Come here,” he murmured.

Before you could say anything, he pressed a long, gentle kiss to your lips. It was so soft and sweet that it fluttered your heart wildly in your chest.

You pulled back, wide-eyed, but grinning like an idiot. “wonie, you have ice cream on your lips.”

“Do I?” he asked innocently, licking his lips. “Must be from you then.”

You gasped, smacking his arm lightly as he laughed, clearly pleased with himself.

Who knew that two people so alike could be this cute together?

[callipraxia]

Lots of interesting stuff here; the one point, aside from how I love the phrase “ship of Theseus-ing himself,” I can comment on…somewhat succinctly is the “learning that maybe it’s just better if he shuts himself off from the world so nobody has a chance to hurt him.” I think it partially was as a self-defense measure…but also partially due to his shift toward “mission-oriented” behavior.

We know Stan is a social creature. He craves connection. Not all that long before he went to Gravity Falls, we saw him trying to befriend his cellmates in a Colombian prison. It’s also well-established that he likes women and has had (tumultuous) relationships with them in the past, but by the time the Lazy Susan B-Plot happens in s1, he’s clearly been out of the game for a while. We see no evidence, in fact, that he ever had any relationships in GF in thirty years of living there…because how could he? He couldn’t tell a love interest who he was or what he was doing with his free time, because if that relationship didn’t work out, that person would have epic blackmail material. And if he had a love interest and let her continue to believe he was Stanford Pines, well, that was going to get awkward when he definitely rescued the real one any day now, wasn’t it? So, between needing to lie about who he was and the simple fact that dating would take up time which could otherwise be spent on his mission, having even a girlfriend, never mind a wife, would have been tantamount to giving up, which is…not an option in his world usually, because the “stubborn” bit stuck no matter what else about him changed. Having friends would also introduce the same problems, to a probably lesser extent. So, therefore, there was nothing to do but shut himself off from the world, which became a self-reinforcing habit that progressively made him more and more cynical and bitter about his position in life as everyone learned he was emotionally isolated from other people and therefore not someone they liked or trusted….

Aaah, this reminds me of a fic I never wrote. We know a little about Carla McCorkle and Marilyn, but the rhyme at the end of “Roadside Attraction” also mentions a “Beatrice” who “slapped him for being a cad.” We never hear anything else about Beatrice, which made her fair game, so a plot idea I had involved Stan - since this was early into his career, before he had fully shifted the public idea of Stanford Pines away from “the science guy in the woods” - more or less accidentally getting recruited to help judge the science fair, despite how he knew relatively little science at that time and also really, really hates science fairs in particular. Cue light romantic comedy with a Beatrice also associated with this event during the lead-up to it/his efforts to sabotage it so it doesn’t ever happen…which then, of course, naturally all has a bad ending when he realizes that oh, yeah, right…his life is fake and he has a top-secret, all-important mission in his basement, time to deliberately behave badly until Beatrice breaks up with him and the ending is discordantly sad and angsty. Never wrote it because I could never figure out how to write and pace the romantic comedy bits, though.

Something I think about so much is just how different the Stanley Pines we see in ATOTS is from the Grunkle Stan we know in the rest of the show.

Like, have you ever noticed just how much more expressive Stan is in 1983? The guy wears his heart on his sleeve so much more than he does later on. At almost every moment you can tell exactly what he's thinking and feeling just from his face, something that will become a lot rarer for him. Even setting aside the portal incident scene itself, have y'all ever watched the Dusk 2 Dawn scene and just watched Stan's face? He looks so… openly sad.

It's not just his expressions. Here's a detail that only just occurred to me: you guys ever think it's weird that Stan doesn't just try to steal the bread from Dusk 2 Dawn? Like, you'd think his stealing habit would've originated from his years on the street stealing to survive, but no— he tries to pay for the bread, and then when he doesn't have any money, he figures out how to get some. It's surprisingly honest.

And just like… I don't know, his whole vibe is so different. He's come from this life of hardship completely willing to talk things through. He's emotional, he's open, and not exactly what you'd expect to see when you imagine what a younger Grunkle Stan might have been like. In fact, his vibe is so different that, in Journal 3, Ford writes that when he first saw Stan, he assumed he was just in another alternate dimension rather than the one he came from.

Anyway, it just makes me think about the transition of how, exactly, he went from one to the other. How we go from the "stubborn, frostbitten vagabond" to the "carnival barker" he is by the show's present. I think about that in-between Stan a lot. Realizing that the hole in his heart, the one he thought was caused by his circumstance for so long, hadn't disappeared even now that he had money and a steady place to live. Growing more bitter and grumpy by the day, learning that maybe it's just better if he shuts himself off from the world so nobody has a chance to hurt him. Seeing himself aging and finding himself no closer to saving Ford. Ship of Theseus-ing himself into the carefully curated asshole that maybe even he thinks he is.

[subcultureblues]

When I Feel That Something (I Want To Hold Your Hand)

T | Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson | tags : Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship | cw : Period-Typical Homophobia, Discussions of Homophobia

———

It’s late and it’s been a long but lazy day. Eddie and Steve decided to go to that one diner in town that’s open late.

Eddie was drumming along to a nonexistent tune, his fingertips tap tapping away on his lap. He looked over at Steve very studiously reading the menu.

“You’re actually getting something different?”

“Nah.” Steve said without looking up. Eddie grinned. He figured as much. Steve was a creature of habit. Eddie was pretty sure he’d anyurize if they came here one day and they were out of strawberry ice cream for his milkshake.

And then he felt it. The slick bastard…. Without taking his eyes off the menu Steve had slipped his hand onto Eddie’s lap and tangled up their fingers.

He’s tenacious. Eddie’ll give ‘im that. Of course one glance around the diner and Eddie was elbowing Steve between the ribs.

“Hey.” Steve held the same hand against where Eddie had jabbed him as if it actually hurt, the big baby. “What was that for -“

“Heya. I’m Mylene. What can I get y’all tonight?” Eddie gave Steve a fabulously vindicated, ‘I told you so’ look as their waitress materialized.

She must be new or something because Eddie’s never seen her working here before.

Eddie let Steve order for him, because he too, is a creature of habit and Steve knows what he likes. The waitress hadn’t seen anything, clearly - considering she’s definitely flirting with him.

She’s pretty too. Soft, delicate face. A real Miss Indiana.

Eddie pretends to study his rings and Steve pretends not to notice her overtures.

And that’s as good as it’s ever gonna get.

As soon as she walked away Eddie could feel Steve scooting closer.

“Sittin’ awful close there, Stevie.” Eddie teased, smiling casually and looking straight ahead.

“Yeah, yeah…” he heard Steve slide back a few inches down the seat. Eddie snuck a glance and chuckled.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty when you pout.” Eddie whispered, nonchalantly stretching to rest his arms over the back of the booth. For just a second, he let the tip of his thumb brush the back of Steve’s neck.

Softly, Eddie hummed that one song Steve put on when he was feeling corny. I wanna hold your hand-a-aand. I wanna hold your hand. Because Eddie did. Really did.

Steve smiled ruefully, but - He was smiling. As good that was ever gonna get either.

When they get their separate checks, and no she didn’t ask, Steve’s had a number scribbled on the bottom. Next to the waitresses name and a little heart. Eddie huffed dryly, like maybe it was funny.

Steve reached past him and crumpled it. Left it there with the discarded napkins as they got up to leave.

“Can you believe her?” Steve muttered after they had stepped out of the diner and into the dark and cold. Eddie shoved his fists in his pockets to keep them warm.

Steve looked back at Eddie expectantly.

“Can’t fault a gal for good taste.” He shrugged. She didn’t do anything untoward. Eddie knew that. Steve did too. Still he was high strung, his shoulders tensed as they walked up to the van.

“You gotta get your head in the game, man.” Eddie said, opening the driver side door.

“What are you talking about?” Steve said, pausing in front of the open passenger side to look up and bite the inside of his cheek. When they were both inside they closed the doors and locked out the night chill.

“Come on, Stevie.” And then more reluctantly, almost apologetic he said, “You know what I’m talking about…”

“Yeah.” Steve pouted. God, what an adorable, majestic labradoodle of a man. Eddie never stood a chance…

Steve crossed his arms, uncrossed them. Crossed them again. “This sucks.”

“Yeah.” Eddie shrugged. “Doesn’t matter though. No, I’m serious. Stop with the face. I’m not gonna risk you getting - “ Eddie huffed. Obviously, Eddie wasn’t upset with him. But honestly… would it so hard for Steve, just once in his life, to not be quite so brave and shining and true. Just once.

For Eddie’s sake if not his own.

“You.” He said, “Do not get to get hurt over this shit. Capiche?” Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie saw Steve mouth the word Capiche back to himself. Eddie valiantly resisted the urge to roll his eyes back into his skull. The two of them actually do have to take turns being entirely juvenile or nothing ever gets done around here. “I’m not - fucking letting that happen, alright? It’s just not worth the risk. So yeah. It sucks. But you gotta stop - “

“What?” Steve raised a bitchy eyebrow.

Eddie laughed, a bit startled at how just fond that look makes him feel. “Being cute.”

“Being cute?” Steve scoffed.

“Mmhmm.” Eddie said pulling out of the parking lot. “Cute.” He nodded definitively.

Steve rolled his eyes. He quietly waited for Eddie to finish fiddling with the radio, til he found a compromise worthy station, before speaking again.

“Ok, well.” Steve looked around. The roads were empty. It was dark. “What about, now….?”

Eddie lolled his head to look the opposite direction as Steve, biting his lip to hold back a ridiculously satisfied smile. Only then could he bare it - to glance at his boyfriend.

He was so sure Steve could see the big cartoon hearts in his eyes. It was annoying, when he was trying so hard to give Steve the ‘I told you to quit it’ eyes.

Steve put his hand over Eddie’s on the stick shift and locked their fingers together. Made a petulant noise, as if he was in active defiance.

“You’re one to talk about being obvious…”. Steve muttered

Eddie laughed. Steve had him dead to rights on that one.

“You know usually you’re meant to look at the road when you’re driving.”

Yeah usually. But then there was Steve in his car. Which, made it hard. And Eddie was a weak, weak man.

“God Steve Harrington... I love you so much sometimes it makes me sick.” He said smirking. Shaking his head at himself more than anything.

Sue him. He’s got Steve Harrington (yes that one) on his arm. He’s gonna be a little bit love struck for the rest of his life.

But now Steve was just slightly pink and biting his lip. Trying to contain himself, struggle against the upward tilt playing at the corner of his mouth. Still playing at mad while giving Eddie the ooiest, gooiest of eyes.

“Shut up…”

“Yeah. Because you fell in love with me for my strong but silent demeanor.”

“Yeah.” Steve looked out the window and huffed a laugh, squeezing his hand. “Something like that…”

Eddie still has no idea what about his ‘wet rat on the run from Johnny Law’ look had managed to charm Steve, but he refused to question it.

Eddie shifted the car in a higher gear, but Steve hand stayed right there on his. Didn’t move the rest of the way home.

When they got back to the trailer, they puttered around in easy silence. It was familiar. Eddie kind of loved it. That Steve didn’t even ask before raiding his pack of beers. That he had shirts in the dresser and a toothbrush next to Eddie’s and that he left his ridiculous shampoo here even though he knows Eddie’s been siphoning from it.

Hell, at this point he knew what drawer they kept the spatula. It was downright domestic.

That’s right folks. Eddie Munson had officially gone soft.

They were hanging out in his bedroom, Eddie playing his guitar at the head of the bed, one leg hanging off it and the other bent at the knee. Steve crisscross on the foot of the bed tossing a baseball of unknown origin up and down.

“I wish I could hold your hand.” He said, catching the ball just to stare at it.

“Steve.”

“No. It’s - I should be able to. It’s messed up.”

Eddie shrugged. Because such is life, amright? No point getting bent up out of shape about shit so, so very far out of your control.

Steve just sighed.

Because Eddie was used to the uh, - sociological blue balling. Whereas Steve, was not. Because Steve was new to all this.

“You can hold my hand now.” Eddie offered, but then he looked down at his guitar and thought about the riff he had almost perfected. “Ok, well not now.”

He stuck up his leg in the air and offered it in Steve’s direction.

“Here take this.” He said. Steve gave him an unimpressed face. Or maybe he could just smell Eddie’s socks and that look was judgement. Eddie wiggled his leg around in front of him a bit until Steve relented and pulled Eddie’s foot into his lap. Eddie grinned satisfactorily.

The baseball ended up rolling onto the floor and under the bed. Likely from whence it came. Steve barely even noticed. Still looking the wrong side of forlorn.

“Maybe I just don’t know what I’m missing out on.” Eddie shrugged, going back to running scales.

“I wish you did…”

“You wish I knew what I was missing out on so I’d suffer the more for not having it?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “That’s pretty fucked up, Stevie.”

Steve rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall.

“I want - fuck, man… I wanna just kiss you whenever I feel like it. Put my arm around you when I feel like it. And you know what? Yeah, maybe I want you to know what it feels like to get shown off a little. You… you should be, deserve to get shown off, you know…”

Eddie looked up at Steve. He was staring into space looking wistful. Sad. His hand still vaguely holding Eddie’s ankle. Eddie gently set his Baby down on the floor, propped up against the nightstand. Refocused his attention on his other Baby. Steve turned his neck to face Eddie, head tilted against the wall.

“It sucks. When you’re sitting right there and it can’t be like how I want it to be.”

“How do you want it?” Eddie risked indulging the hypothetical.

“I want em to know you’re mine.” Steve shrugged, picking at loose thread on Eddie’s thread bare jeans.

Eddie flopped back onto the bed, head sinking deep into his pillow. Sometimes it was like Steve was trying to stop Eddie’s heart in its tracks. He glared at Steve down the bridge of his nose.

“I thought I told you to stop being cute.” He pretended to grouse.

Steve’s lip twitched up but it didn’t clear the upset on his face.

“Can’t help it I guess…” Steve said quietly. Distracted.

“No. I guess you can’t.” Eddie agreed. He outstretched his arms, raising them and leaving them suspended in the air. Beckoning for his sweet prince. Waiting for his Steve to come fall into them. “Come on.” He encouraged, with a begrudging tone -one he’s sure was deeply unconvincing.

Steve crawled up the bed, and sunk down on top of his chest. Christ, he was he heavy. And warm. Like the sexiest, most suffocating sleeping blanket to ever hit the market. The last blanket Eddie’d ever need.

Eddie really did love the way Steve used his chest as a pillow. Steve settled so he was mostly not crushing Eddie’s lungs. He snuggled his cheek against his usual spot. Right over where Eddie’s got that screaming face tatt, just getting comfortable.

Eddie ran a hand up and down his shoulder, hoping it did something to soothe this something in Steve. Squeezed his arms around him. Snuggled his own cheek against the top of Steve’s head.

“You think I wouldn’t be running around town screaming about, Steve Harrington, man of my dreams if I could.” He said eventually. He could hear Steve rolls his eyes. “Here ye, here ye! Thine King has the tightest, hottest, most fuckab-“

Steve pushed him away with a hand on his cheek.

“I’ll show you fuckable…” Steve mimicked, muttering nonsense. He looked up at Eddie from his chest. Eddie looked down at him, with a positively lecherous eyebrow.

A look that said, Oh baby. You already are.

And yet… Steve wasn’t preening. Usually he loved how Eddie could lighten the mood. Made light of things because sometimes it did start to make them feel lighter. Said it helped when he got too in his head. But Eddie got the distinct feeling Steve wanted to… talk.

Perhaps counterintuitively… Eddie’s not the best at that. He can never seem to shut the hell up, until something important comes along and his silver tongue leaves him like a filthy deserter.

“This comes with the territory of being little Missus Munson, hey stop it! Stop it! Hmph. Ow…”

Steve did stop trying to poke him to death with his pointer finger. Eddie sighed.

“It does though… It comes with the… me.”

“Eddie. S’not like it’s your fault.”

“Yeah… Doesn’t mean I can do anything to change it.” He said quietly. Staring at the ceiling so he didn’t have to look at Steve. “I remember you in highschool. You always had some girl on your arm.” He said, eyebrows raised and sounding detached.

Steve poked at him again which made Eddie wriggle but it didn’t shut him up.

“You’d be… holding hands in the hallway. Making out against your locker. Under the bleachers… In the lunchroom...”

“Eddie.” Steve frowned. Eddie shrugged the shoulder Steve wasn’t lying on, resigned.

“I - can’t give you that, Steve.” He said simply, though words rose like bile in his throat. “This is… You can take it or you can leave it. But if you ever want to just,” Eddie felt too big for his skin. Felt sick and warm. Felt like his heart suddenly forgot its easy, devil-may-care rhythm. Which is why he tried not to think about it. This. Not to dream of things so far out of his reach. His eyebrows drew together. “You ever want to just - hold hands and walk down the street again… I’m not the person for that. You’re gonna have to um, your gonna need to, uh, find someone else.”

Someone like Mylene, Eddie thought numbly.

“Eddie.” Steve’s head rose from his chest. His face all twisted up. With that unconscionably cute pissed off little frown of his, the one he puts on when he gets all serious. The one for which Eddie had no earthly defense.

God, Eddie hated when his heart did this. Ached.

“Stop it. Don’t - I want to hold your hand. Show you off. Kiss you. Kiss you whenever I feel like it.” He scoffed. “Not just like for the fuck of it. What’s the point if it’s anybody but you, stupid.”

Eddie managed to smile. It was small and sad and he still couldn’t look at him. But it was there - and a lot more earnest than Eddie lets himself be a lot of the time.

Steve moved up his body and pressed his forehead to Eddie’s temple. Grounded them both at that point of contact.

“Hey.” Steve whispered. Eddie did finally face him. Prayed his eyes looked less scared than he felt. Steve put a warm open palm on the side of his neck. Slid it up to rest on his cheek. Stroking his thumb back and forth purposefully. He nosed at Eddie’s other cheek. “Hey. I love you. I really - I really need this. You.” He could feel the warmth of his breath in the shape of the words. Eddie dragged his nose down the bridge of Steve’s. He loved the way their skin on skin felt. Loved the way it made him feel, how it transported him somewhere simple and safe.

Like those ruby slippers from Wizard of Oz. Press them together, and suddenly… you’re home again.

Like magic.

“It kind of scares the shit out of me when you talk like that.” Steve said, quiet and pretending it hurts less than it really does.

Eddie closed his eyes and squeezed Steve in his arms.

“M’sorry.” Eddie mumbled into his neck. “…You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Right?”

“I better be.” Steve ribbed gently.

“We’ll uh,” he cleared his throat, but it still felt like there were like, rocks stuck in there or something. He tried again. “You won’t ever be able to get married… can’t have kids - s’illegal and all.”

“So what? Ya know? So what. I get to have… this, right?” He grinned, reverently running a hand through Eddie’s mess of hair. Scratching his fingernails softly into the back of his neck. “And I’d like to see them try and take that from me. I have a pretty scary bat, you know.”

“I heard about that.” Eddie murmured.

“Yeah? It’s all covered in like, nails and demon blood and everything.” He laughed softly, pressing his face into Eddie’s hair.

“You’re very metal, baby.” Eddie said, placing a kiss on his neck.

“And don’t think I won’t use it.” Now it Steve trying to unsuccessfully lighten the mood.

Eddie uncurled and laid back, just staring at the ceiling.

“You want it though. You’ve always wanted that…”

“Well. Yeah…”

Eddie’s eyes start to sting and somewhere in the back of his head his dad’s voice is there telling him to stop being a pussy, that he’s being a real baby about this, that he’s always been a fucking idiot. He’s too loose limbed and sedated to bother toughen up. Too tired to be impenetrable.

Steve kissed him. On the cheek, softer than anything else in Eddie’s life.

Eddie’s been slowly trying to wisen up to the fact that uh. When he and Steve are all pretzeled up like this, their whole bodies a tangle. When it’s dark and quiet and just them. It’s actually fine to feel like a pussy, and a total baby, and a fucking idiot. It just makes Steve kiss him like that. Squeeze a little tighter. Makes him want to stay folded up like this longer, as long as they can. Even when Steve like really, really has to pee.

Eddie doesn’t know what the fuck he’s gonna do with himself when he looses this too. Steve nuzzles up against him, make a small sound. If, he tried to remind himself. If he looses it.

Pretty please, Jesus fucking Christ - Please be an if.

“I wanna marry you Eddie.”

“Ok.” Eddie shrugged, disaffected. He wants to marry Steve too.

He also wants a million dollars, a 84’ Flying V, to be trapped in an elevator with Gary Gygax for like 30 minutes, because he’s got some serious ideas about the rules alright?

He wants to be a rock star. He wants Wayne to be able to retire.

The wanting is the problem. It’s an indulgence that doesn’t do anyone much good. That just precedes a dull, drawn out ache.

Steve sat up very suddenly, straddling Eddie’s hips. And God, if Eddie’s not a boy because he’s way too easily distracted by Steve sitting on his dick. Steve stretches an arm out to reach over Eddie. He puts his hands on Steve’s hips to steady him as he goes to grab something off the nightstand.

Sweet. So they’re gonna fuck it out. Eddie won’t complain about that. Simple ecstasy? A carnal pleasure? That’s the #1 Munson Recomended method to treat self pitying bouts of despair, baby.

He was great with the words that didn’t matter, really not so much with the ones that did. And Steve always was and would be a man of action. And ok, maybe Eddie was even a little relieved to forget this conversation, this hole in his chest. Just, not have to think about it.

But then Steve didn’t present Eddie with a bottle of lube. Instead he was carefully holding one of Eddie’s rings pinched between two fingers. Eddie had slipped them off and put them on the nightstand (because as cool as they make him look on stage they’re clunky and obtrusive and practicing with them on his fingers gets on his nerves.)

“Marry me.” Steve said, presenting Eddie’s very own ring to him.

“Uh - “ His eyes crossed looking at it held up in front of his face.

Steve huffed.

“Fine. I Steve Harrington, ask thee, Eddie Munson, for your hand in marriage.” Steve said, gently picking up one of Eddie’s hands. He was just staring at Steve trying to figure out the punchline.

“Maybe not today, alright? But like, someday, right? There’s gotta be a a someday. And then I’m gonna marry you. First day they’ll legally let me do it.”

“Sure. We’ll probably be like, a hundred.”

“Ok.” He shrugged. Like for Steve it was that simple. It came that easy for him. “Would you want…?”

“Fuck you. Fuck you, man.” Eddie rolled them over so he was curled on top of Steve. Steve put up a struggle, slowly suffocating under him.

“I want it so bad it’s like a bullet to the chest.” He said, holding the love of his life down in an illegal wrestling move.

“You’f suz a drauma queen.” Steve mumbled under him. Eddie rested his weight his on his forearms, one on either side of Steve’s head, releasing the petulant creature from it’s confines. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“And you’re… something else, Harrington.”

“It’ll be Munson won’t it.” And there’s a second round, a clean shot to the heart. He hides his face in Steve’s neck, pretending he’s not squealing on the inside like a teenage girl with a bad case of Beatle-mania.

“Fuck off.” He sighs. “You’re gonna kill me one day, Steve Harrington.”

“Steve Munson.” He sputtered a little, mouth open like he was trying to get a stray hair out of it.

Eddie made a sound like he’s dying.

“God that sounds awful actually.” Eddie said, as if he’s not gonna be writing it in little hearts in the margins of his notebooks. “Just. Does not roll off the tongue. Like at all.”

Steve’s fingers were trailing featherlight up and down his spine. “Yeah.” He agreed. And Eddie could hear the smile on the bastards face.

“Robin can be our incubator.”

“She agreed to that?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Steve snorted. “But I’ll wear’er down. She’s a total sap.”

Eddie snorted. She was a god awful hopeless romantic.

“You’re gonna force that poor lesbian to pump out 4 little Harrington’s?”

“Little Munsones. Munsonses?”

“Munsons?” Eddie raised a condescending eyebrow.

“Besides I don’t need 4, I’ll already have one giant fucking baby waiting for me at home.” He digs his nose into Eddie’s cheek accusatorially.

“You get one.”

“Three.” Steve bargained, eyes squinting in challenge.

“Two.” Eddie said, grinning widely.

“And a dog.”

“You get a hamster.” Eddie said, feeling warm all over. “Final offer.”

Two little tikes running around the house, screaming like banshees. He could read them The Hobbit when they’re all tuckered out and tucked in, to put them to sleep. Use all his silly voices.

He could teach them D&D and they could all giggle and create chaos together as a family, sat around the dining room table.

They could play princes and princesses and Eddie could be the big mean dragon - that they then vanquish in glorious combat. He would fall to his knees and ‘die’ oh so dramatically. He knows he would.

When they’re real little, he could bounce them on his knee like a cowboy. Do stupid shit like play peek-a-boo and blow raspberries on their tummy’s til they barfed themselves laughing. All the stuff he doesn’t remember but had wanted anyways.

He pictures himself up at 2 am with Steve standing behind him, pressed against his back. Having finally gotten the wailing little beast in his arms to fall back asleep; and he gets to hold something small and fragile and full of so much living potential and do it better this time around.

Damn.

He was crying, wasn’t he?

He just noticed. Steve had noticed too. He was quietly kissing up Eddie’s jawline, into his temple. Running those magical hands through his hair in a way that made him want to pur like a cat.

“Eddie?” He spoke softly.

Eddie sniffed. He grabbed at the fist Steve was still holding the ring in. “Gimme.” He said, frowning.

“Hey.” Steve warned. He took Eddie’s left hand by the wrist, slowly coaxed his fingers open. Carefully slid the ring on. Stared at it on Eddie’s hand. Smiling just, way too smugly.

Eddie flexed his fingers, testing his grip. It’s literally the ring he wears on his left ring finger almost every single day.

And isn’t that something. The way Steve can take something that should be entirely mundane. And make it mean everything to Eddie, make it mean the fucking world.

A very serious expression crossed Eddie’s face, then he reached over to the night stand and grabbed a handful of the rest of his rings.

He opened his palm and sorted through them by size. “What are you doing?” Steve asked. Eddie shushed him. Steve clicked his tongue but he went easily when Eddie reached out to grab his left hand.

“Oh.” Steve said, as Eddie went about trying a few different rings on his fingers. Steve’s hands were a lot meatier than Eddie’s. Steve was a fit guy, you see. Even his hands were bigger, more muscular. Eddie had slender guitar player hands. But eventually he found one, a simple silver band with a fleur-de-lis that fit like Cinderella’s glass slipper.

“Mine.” Eddie said, hugging Steve’s forearm tightly and trapping it possesively against his own chest. Steve looked at the ring on his finger. He turned his hand around in Eddie’s grip to press it flat against Eddie’s heartbeat. Then Steve kissed him, rested their foreheads together.

“You’re such a brute, you know that?” Steve said, kissing him again.

“I’ll show you a brute.” Eddie raised his eyebrows suggestively. They kissed and kissed and kissed.

“Have you heard about what’s going on in New York? And like San Francisco and stuff.”

“The big gay revolution? Sure.” Eddie shrugged. Kissed him again. Lots of tongue.

Does it still count as premarital sex after whatever that was? Eddie’s gotta be honest, he’s a little disappointed at the idea of their sex life getting even the slightest bit less actively sinful.

“What do you think?”

“Hmmm? It’s a nice dream. I’ll give em that.” Steve gave him a look. Eddie scoffed.

“I want to… I can’t just sit here, man.” Steve said. Because Steve was a man of action. Because when Steve sees a monster he just starts swinging. He held Eddie’s hand in his own, looking at the ring that was next to meaningless 10 minutes ago and it just wasn’t anymore. “I’m not kidding. I am gonna marry you. I want to be out there. Doing that. Until they have to let me.”

“I dunno, man…. I’m more of a rebel without a cause.” Eddie said, because activism’s an idealist’s game.

“Oh, come ooon. Fighting the power. Sticking it to The Man. Riots in the streets. You gotta admi-t. Pretty metal….” He grinned, knowing each and every one of Eddie’s weaknesses and exactly how to tempt him.

“Yeah. Ok, yeah it kinda is.”

It would be nice. Knowing there’s others people like them is different from actuating knowing other people who are like them. It’s crazy just how much Eddie’s life changed from having two people in the world who could get him the way Steve and Robin got him. They could drag her out there with them. Hit up the lesbian bars, ‘find her Eddie’ as she and Steve refer to it sometimes.

The music scene there is actually… existent. Unlike here. Eddie could… he try and make a name for himself.

They could… it sounds like a fucking pipe dream. That things could ever change. That people could ever change. That some day people like them wouldn’t have to be afraid.

But… fuck if Steve’s optimistic smile wasn’t convincing him of something. Convincing Eddie that hey, it’s at least worth a try, right?

“I wanna hold your hand.” Steve said quietly, even thought he was already holding it.

“That’s not very metal at all.” Eddie teased.

“I dunno… Feels pretty metal to me.” He said, absently playing with Eddie’s fingers.

Eddie huffed a laugh.

“Yeah… Yeah I guess it really is.”

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Hi, just curious. What's your 10 or 20 fave BL kisses from bl series/dramas/web series you've watched or are watching, if you have any?

Hey Anon,

I don't know if you remember this ask, it has been sitting in my inbox for a while now. Sorry for the late reply!

And of course I have favorite kisses. I love a good kiss. In my definition of a good kiss, it doesn't need to be the perfect angle or the perfect "lip-touching", I don't know, people rate such scenes differently. For me it is more about the emotions I could feel during that kiss, the build-up or if there is a special detail that really catches my breath. I guess you'll understand, what I mean when you see my choices.

This is not a ranking! It is in alphabetical order, not just because I don't want to rank them, but because I am lazy.

Bad Buddy

The iconic rooftop kiss. The whole build-up was perfect. The tears? The first short kiss followed by this gorgeous kiss filled with all the emotions one person can feel? What is not to like about this kiss!?

Be My Favorite

I was very protective of these two and especially Krist. People were saying, he can't kiss other man because he is homophobic and what is this then? Yes, I remember Sotus. The kisses were.. not good, but I gave Be My Favorite a chance and this kiss was so soft and so full of love and tenderness. I really enjoyed this whole scene a lot! And Kris can kiss.

Boys Be Brave!

This kiss came as a big surprise for me. It is Jinwoo trying to hide from Kisub and the letter finding him what leads to this quiet and beautiful first kiss. I loved everything about it!

Ghost Host, Ghost House

All of there kisses were so good! But I loved the teasing and the chasing in this scene especially. Those two have incredible good chemistry and I wish we could see more of them.

History 3: Make Our Days Count

Oh the desperation for each other was so real in this one. Both wanted each other so bad! But what I loved the most about this whole scene was the way how Sun Bo Xiang reassured Lu Zhi Gang that he desired all of him. So good!

I Feel You Linger In The Air

The most painful and saddest kiss in bl-history! It is such a wonderful scene. Everything about it made me cry and smile at the same time. Gorgeous scene!

Jack and Joker

They finally confessed and kissed for the first time. And what a kiss this was! It left the most of us speechless and a little bit breathless. The way Jack stopped the kiss in the middle to calm Joke down a little bit and they started the kiss again so fucking tender and argh! I love it so much!!!

Love Class 2

Love Class 2 has some really good kisses, but this one was something else! It is one of the softest kisses ever. I don't know how many times I have rewatched this whole scene. Just look at them. You can feel the softness of this kiss! And there were sounds during that scene... they were something else.

Love For Love's Sake

I really didn't expect that kiss at the end of this series. I hoped for a tight hug, but hello? Those two and the script kept delivering until the very end. This was pure perfection.

Love Mechanics

Yeah, well... perhaps I am just a sucker for YinWar kissing... I don't know. But every time I see this kiss I want to live in this scene forever and I would be perfectly fine. I am just sitting here, wanting to write about this kiss and I stared at it for an unhealthy period of time and forgot everything else. That is really bad. I love that kiss so much!

My Stand-In

They had some good kisses. This was not one of them, but this specific moment, when Joe gave in to the kiss, I was blown away. He really didn't want to like this kiss, but his heart still wanted it. The emotions!

My Tooth Your Love

Every once in a while there are these cute and small kisses, so ordinary and overlooked. I think these are very important to portrait a good and real relationship. Because kisses don't need to be these big moments in slow-motion and with different angles. Yes, those are nice, but I really adore those "small" ones that show the love between the characters.

Perfect Propose

The reason I picked this scene is because of the build-up. Hirokuni asked Kai not to call him Hiro, but Kai just ignored him and breathed Hiro and followed with this passionate kiss and I was just in awe.

Sing My Crush

I was absolutely not expecting this kiss! I thought we got this dead-fish-kiss and that would be it. I would have love the series nevertheless, but this scene? Damn, Korea! Such a good kiss!

The Heart Killers

I don't think those two are the best kissers in the industry. I think they have some good chemistry without a doubt. But this kiss. This moment here. It was everything for me. I can feel Style's hand on Fadel's head. I can feel it. And I love it! I am not normal about this scene! Everything about these few seconds brings me so much joy. The look on Fadel's face, the hand and everything that happend before and followed afterwards.

The Day I Loved You

This is still one of my favorite rooftop-kisses. For me it is the way they grab each other to pull the other one close. The way they want to crawl into each other, to feel the other person everywhere. Such a perfect first kiss! Such a perfect scene.

To My Star 2

I love these small kisses. I name them "A thousand little kisses". Those kisses make me smile and so happy! There is nothing more to say about it. I love them. To My Star is just an example for many other shows out there with these little kisses.

Unknown

I loved this whole scene. But this segment of the kiss, this little dance of them, is so good. I can't tell you how many times I just watched this specific scene. How easy Yuan maneuvered Qian around to close the door. How they kept kissing. I... I... nope. There are no words in my head anymore.

Well, these are a few of my favorite kisses. There are more, but I guess this list is long enough. I hope you like my little selection :) I wish you a wonderful day!

[massy2ly]

Style and Fadel: These two are playing a weird and dangerous game

Kant and Bison do everything they can to maintain their act and appear sweet, loving, harmless and truthful. Kant as way to dodge danger and Bison as a means to escape his reality. Their relationship is riddled with lies and pretence as both try to drift away from the truth at all cost.

Style and Fadel on the other hand? I’m very very confused because they way they interact in ep 5 is so telling, so honest that you get the impression they’re sending a clear message to each other: « I know what you suspect that i know about you and what you know. And here’s what I want you to know about where I stand on the matter. »

I saw a comment on TikTok that said « Style was one Fadel’s smile away from revealing Kant’s plan ». Very accurate and it applies to Fadel as well. All the warnings he gave Style in ep 5 were CRAZYYYY for someone who fought so hard to conceal his identity. This man is not trying anymore and is even preparing Style for the truth. I believe he’s been testing him throughout ep 5. However, since Style continued not being thrown off by Fadel’s ominous words and rough, reserved attitude, going as far as showing support and giving advice, he’s like… maybe this guy can actually handle me.

It helps that Style acts like he knows something. Despite knowing the risks, he can’t help expose himself (just a littleeeee) and back Fadel into the corner with probing questions. As I said in my previous post, his feelings for Fadel are overrunning his fear. Style, curious as he is, would definitely try to unravel this man in order to make up his own mind, regardless of Kant’s opinion. Is this guy a monster or is he stuck in this wrong path? Is he at peace with what he does or does he dream of a way out?

He was basically saying: « I know that you’re not who you’re pretending to be, I know that you’re dangerous and difficult. I want you to let me in so that I can be sure that my love for you is real, that I’m not leading myself on by settling for the pieces of you that you’re allowing me to see. »

Remember that with Style, what you see is what you get. He’s an all or nothing type of guy which explains why he needs to be the 💯. This is not about the car anymore so that goofy act he pulled to get Fadel is gone. Now you see an easy-going man who, by nature, hates confusing situations and being in the dark. Not to forget that he’s probably new to the whole LOVE thing, which makes him restless and conflicted. He’s already struggling sm with keeping that secret and is risking his life by throwing hints, just to crack through Fadel’s walls. He needs to see the whole picture, he needs to figure out his feelings and to know where he stands with the secretive man he caught feelings for.

Anyway, these two were soooo sus and obvious in ep 5 that they left me gasping every time they talked. That last scene ??? Hello ?? Just lay everything into the open at this point. It felt like a game of who’s going to let their secret slip first.

They’re both itching to let loose, so desperate to trust again and to love freely. The combination of a repressed guy who longs for connection, vulnerability and a safe space / a blunt, uncomplicated and transparent man who’s learning to care for someone other than himself.

[blueberrybeomgyu]

bunny hybrid!riwoo

+*:🍞:*﹤no warnings for this section ♡ / masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *

sfw

ᡣ𐭩 idk a lot abt bunny breeds, but i can see him with soft, light brown ears that are long enough for him to cover his face with when he's shy

ᡣ𐭩 lotss of unconventional habits like play-fighting, he finds it exciting, but often ends up getting too excited and biting you in the process. the bites are more like nibbles and are gentle as long as he’s going to the dentist regularly

ᡣ𐭩 lovess lying on you, if you’re sitting down at home and your lap is free, he’s in it immediately (babygirl!riwoo truthers rise up...) if you’re lying down, especially if you’re on your stomach, he’s climbing on top of you and nuzzling into your neck. finds it so comforting, and when he’s not lying on you, he’s pulling you to lie on him instead; he’ll tug on your clothing/limbs until you’re close enough for him to drag your body on top of his. at first, you’re reluctant because you’re worried about hurting him. if you say no, he doesn’t argue, but he does find somewhere to pout. he has a balance of trying to convince you every chance he gets, but also not pushing it when you say no. eventually, you give in to his promises that it’s not going to hurt him – it’ll do the opposite, comforting him so much especially after hard days

ᡣ𐭩 would love, love, love when you play with his hair or his ears, melts when you run your hand through his strands or rub his ears gently. when you ask if he needs help shampooing, he’s nodding before you even finish the sentence

ᡣ𐭩 absolutely hates making you upset, feels like apologizing with words isn’t enough, so he tends to nuzzle you instead. assuming you don’t need space, he’ll gently nudge his nose against your neck and/or cheeks. he’s not necessarily trying to stop you from being upset with him, it’s more of his way to show you that he’s here for you and that he loves you even if you guys disagree/have hit a rough patch. even aside from being a bunny hybrid, being close to you after a disagreement comforts him so much. he is not a silent treatment guy at all, please just let him make it up to you!!

ᡣ𐭩 would HATE going to the dentist. it’s a horrible fear of his, but he has to go to make sure his teeth are in good condition, definitely needs you to motivate him to go, and to be there with him the entire time <3

ᡣ𐭩 because real life riwoo likes sweets so much, I think bunny hybrid!riwoo would loveee carrot cake!! like he would do concerning things for carrot cake… if you want to get him a treat for getting through a particularly hard week, carrot cake is the way to go! he’d be so grateful, nearly swallowing it whole, like did he even taste it?? however, bunnies do have to eat carrots in moderation, so you have to be the voice of reason in terms of how much carrot cake he should eat. if you don’t like carrot cake, he’s lowkey hurt – “it’s carrots and cake, i dunno how you don’t get it??? :(”

⁠⋆·˚ ༘ *

nsfw

+*:🥕:*﹤warnings : sub!riwoo tendencies, piss kink mention (it is very brief), mention of overstim (ooh shocker!!!)

ᡣ𐭩 going back to him loving it when you play with his hair/ears, it definitely gets him hard. he tries to hide it 'cause he doesn’t want to ruin the moment in case it might gross you out/make you stop touching him

ᡣ𐭩 extremely secretive about his high sex drive during the early months of your relationship due to it being an aspect about him he’s always been very insecure/ashamed about, so he does everything he can to hide it from you when even the little things you do (innocently touching him, kissing him, reciprocating his habits) set him off. when you visit his place, he’s frequently excusing himself to the bathroom just to splash cold water on his face and try to calm himself down. he doesn’t want to scare you off and would rather suffer through the arousal just to be able to spend time with you </3

ᡣ𐭩 bunny tails are very sensitive so many hybrids would prefer it if you didn’t touch them. that is not the case with bunny!riwoo… part of me feels like he would like being sensitive due to how much it heightens his pleasure. because of that, i think he’d like it if you played with his tail during sex. he’ll be ass-up while you peg him, and his cute little tail will twitch, bringing your attention to it. the second you gently massage into the nub, he's cumming quicker than he can think

ᡣ𐭩 i don’t write about bodily fluids but bunny!riwoo definitely has a piss kink... this is one of the only ways he shows how territorial he is, and another thing he’s embarrassed about, so he doesn’t tell you about it, but you end up finding out anyway

ᡣ𐭩 i know a lot of people say this about riwoo, but bunny!riwoo cums so quickly it’s actually humiliating, can barely even bottom out in you before he’s shuddering through an orgasm and stuttering out apologies. this likely stems from his high sex drive and being on edge all day when he’s in your company. when he finally gets his hands on you, holding out is just a fantasy

ᡣ𐭩 however, he’s a bunny! so he has a high sex drive, like he would show jaehyun up hard. even if he cums quickly, he’s ready to go again almost immediately <3

ᡣ𐭩 another habit of his is tapping his foot. he does this when he’s irritated, but also when he’s overstimulated. you’d be working him through his third orgasm and his leg is twitching, foot thumping against the mattress or floor. this is typically a sign that bunnies are unhappy or on edge, so you’re concerned when it happens the first time, he’d have to reassure you that he’s fine and genuinely does want you to keep touching him even if he’s overwhelmed (sweetie !!!! i want him so bad)

ᡣ𐭩 don't get me wrong, i'm a big fan of Dig Bick!Riwoo who doesn’t know how to use it, but i think bunny!riwoo would have a small cock, and he’s so embarrassed about it when you guys first start getting intimate :(( everything about him is tiny, and his cock is no exception. however, he grows to love his size, and the sight of your hand covering his entire length as you jerk him off drives him crazy. loves feeling small and under your control in that way <33

ᡣ𐭩 bunny!riwoo lovessss overstim, actually needs it to tire himself out. he handles it like a champ even if he cries about it. some days, he’ll beg you not to stop because he’s obsessed with being so sensitive and tender (and again, under your control). some days, he’ll whine that he can’t take it, can’t cum anymore, but you’d know him well enough by then to know that he can (and he does), loves when you ignore him and force another one out of him, even if he's shooting blanks </3. loves the idea that you know his body better than he does, knows his limits even when he doesn’t, and that he can rely on you during times like this where he might've slipped into subspace. he’s not so on edge or easily aroused for a few days after a thorough milking session, which is such a relief for him!

ᡣ𐭩 to end it off, bunny!riwoo is likely free-use since he’s always horny anyway. he’ll let you do whatever you want to him whenever, and he’s secretly obsessed with the idea that you’ll just take him and use him how you want. chances are that he was already hot n bothered, but was too shy to ask for help, so you’re doing the both of you a favor !!

✧･ﾟ: *

a/n : ty for reading, have a good day!!! eat a fruit drink some water listen to a comfort song,,,

[bloodfiendarling]

𝓶𝔂𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓾𝓶 𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

a .. anon chan ...? oh my god .. are you a mind reader ? a saint , perhaps ..? ive had a similar idea for months , i just never got to writing it (shy ,,)

thank u so so much for the idv req >_< i didnt think id get any so early .. this fic took heavy inspo from saya no uta , too .. i rlly did give him the fuminori treatment ..

another case of — written by my dick — this is so horrible .. im so sorry frederick sama ..

DEAD DOVE : DO NOT EAT .

pairing — pioneer research!frederick x hallucinated!reader

wc — ~1.1k

contains — coa vii setting, fem reader (the form reader takes , i guess . theyre kind of not real ..), reader referred to with it/its prns, mindfuck, dubcon .? (is it dubcon if hes on shrooms and doing it to himself . i gen dont know, emeto, body horror, hallucinations, reader is a hallucination, self harm (scratching), established past relationship w reader

playing .. mushrooms • mili

even in such a desolate land, frederick still has the desire to create his work — his music. the composer’s desire for creation still persists, and with the chaos, he found inspiration.

…and unluckily for him, he had a slump.

nothing in the current area could inspire him for music. it frustrated him. even as he played away on the abandoned piano he found — nothing quite stuck to him right. it all felt too empty.

so tonight, frederick decided on leaving. just for one night, though. he’ll return by the next morning, of course — it’d be too dangerous to stay any longer. and where’s the harm in it, anyway? him and his team have been hopping from abandoned building to another.. be it to study more about the fungi or just to rest up.

he took a pen and paper, writing a note to leave behind — a short one, but at the very least it told them he’ll be fine… he’s sure qi will be scolding him afterwards, but.. it’d be well worth it.

as he signed it, he left it on the dirty table they’ve been using. taking his gas-mask to leave. the world is barren. everything was abandoned, there were those mushrooms everywhere. everything within frederick’s field of vision was nothing but a wasteland.

after a good, long walk he stumbled upon an abandoned music venue. it was big — it was grand. he’s sure he could find some inspiration and maybe even a new instrument.

little did the composer know, the venue was a big source of mycelium fungi.

he opened the heavy doors, looking around. a big stage in the middle, and seats all around for the audience to sit. it brought him back to his past for a bit — when he was shown on a stage — being praised for his music. ‘it was like a ray of divine light,’ they’d say.

that stage still had a piano on it. he walked between the empty seats, making his way onto the stage. the piano… it somehow still looked brand new, weirdly enough. it even sounded just like so, properly tuned and cared for.

it didn’t feel real. he thought he was dreaming. frederick sat himself down, performing as if there was an audience. he hasn’t gotten the chance to use such high-quality equipment ever since the infection spread.. he’ll definitely stay for a little longer.

even if it wasn’t real.

the composer peeked around backstage, and somehow, it looked clean. nothing like what he’d usually see. an infected corpse, bloodied walls, some mycelium growing.. none of that. it looked polished in here.. he’ll tell his group he found a new place for them when he gets back.

even if it was filthy in a sane man’s eyes.

it was getting late — he could tell that much. he’s sure his group wouldn’t mind if he came back a little later. he has in the past, anyway.. it didn’t make much problems. he sat down, back against a wall, just looking at all the equipment backstage before drifting to a dreamless sleep.

only to be woken up by a horrible sight. everything looked different from last night. no longer was it that clean place he saw the night before. it was horrid. worse than anything he’s ever seen — flesh and mushrooms coating the walls. the floor felt moist, almost as if it were actual meat. and the smell — god, the smell. poor frederick threw his head to the side and threw up. his throat burns. what even happened here..? was last night all fake?

it got worse when he saw those flesh-like veins start to crawl all over body. with wide eyes, he scratched and hit himself. it didn’t hurt, oddly enough. his body felt weirdly numb — though, frederick was a little too disoriented to notice.

“are you okay, frederick?”

he heard a voice. a woman’s voice — you..? how..?

it can’t be real — but it looked and sounded just like reality. just like you. could it be a hallucination..? no, no.. he’s seen how his groupmates reacted to the mycelium’s hallucinogenic spores — none of them ever mentioned anything like this.. he would know. it’s happened to him a few times before, too.

he placed his hand over his gas-mask, only for it to have a fleshy feel. he could see teeth and blood on his palm — panicking, the composer grabbed onto the mask of his, not realizing it was, in fact — his gas-mask. in his mind, it looked like a piece of gore had latched onto his face. he pulled onto it hopelessly. he wanted it off.

“ah, you’ll hurt yourself..” you cup his face, slowly taking the mask off. in frederick eyes, it really was a young woman helping him discard the living flesh off his face — letting him take a breath. though, it was nothing like that in reality.

he had just taken off his mask in a high risk area.

it felt like fresh air — though he was overwhelmed by the smell of rot after a few seconds, gagging. he can’t help but still see ‘you’ as a fake. but he can’t help but still give in.

“what are you doing here by yourself, anyway..?” it asks.

his jaw locked up, he can’t say anything. frederick looks down, he looks ashamed, almost. why? he didn’t know, either. he just knew whatever it was, it was you — and he’ll believe entirely.

“does it hurt, frederick?” it asks, caressing frederick’s cheek. ‘you’ could see a few red scratch marks on them.. ah.. the way it said those words — alongside those gentle actions. it really was you here in his mind. he can’t help but nod, pressing his knees against his chest and rambling nonsense.

“everything — all of it hurts.” he mumbled. ‘you’ wanted to comfort the composer. and he wanted that comfort, too — he longed for you after you disappeared. who knew he’d find you here of all places.

“do you want me to make you feel good, frederick?”

of course he did. he wanted you again. he missed you. he craved for you. your warmth. you. the composer didn’t care if this ‘you’ wasn’t real.

he watched you climb on top of him, pressing featherlight kisses onto him. as if fungi wasn’t already seeping into his tongue. frederick wrapped his arms around ‘you’ — when in reality they were enveloping himself — scratching red, bloody lines into his skin.

more openings for the spores to use him as a host. for ‘you’ to use him as a dear host.

frederick’s nose started bleeding, some of it had gotten into his ear — though, he paid no mind to it.. it felt like little kisses and bites on his earlobe — just like how you did it back then.

he felt your hands around his neck, how your lips felt against them, too. ah, he was in pure bliss. even if the room looked and smelled like rot — at least ‘you’ — no, it — was here to make him forget about everything.

maybe the rest of his group wouldn’t mind if he just left..

maybe he should stay just a little longer

idv masterlist ♥︎

[bean-there-before]

I don’t know how to explain it (wait real quick imagine this like I’m saying it while we’re laying on grass looking up at clouds)

I don’t know how to explain it but I don’t think I want to be friends with any real life Smosh or dimension 20 or starkid or life series fans

Like I have people on here that I can freak out about something with and I don’t know how to casually say “I like Smosh” without diving headfirst into everything I love about it and all the ships and all my favorite duos

likewise if someone told me they had watched tmwdlm idk how I wouldn’t be able to start ranting about the music coming back and the plots and the lords in black and I’d definitely spoil every other hatchetfeild musical

also, if someone said “I like dropout but especially dimension 20” how would one normally talk about it without jumping into everything single character and how good this is and every single campaign I’ve seen and how i don’t have the time or attention span to watch all the ones I want to and I want them directly transferred via iv into my bloodstream

or like (this one actually happened) I had my friend name all the people in the life series based on their skins and she did then I couldn’t stop myself from jumping straight into the lore and explaining a bunch of relationships and why this happened and why this and who won this

you know? Like how do you be normal around people who are like… normal about a thing

edit for clarification: less like I’m scared about not being normal and more like a healthy work life balance they don’t all need to know the amount of time I allocate to these things

[bakerstreethound]

Ad Astra (To the Stars)

Relationship: Jayce Talis x Viktor

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Minors DNI! (dom) Viktor, (sub)Jayce, implied lab smut, marking, biting, teasing, claiming, possessiveness, soft confessions, soft domestic bliss, and the hexstrap gets a notable mention

Summary: Jayce always knew he was a goner. Correction, Jayce always knew he was a goner when it came to Viktor, his partner of many years. Of all the fantasies, all the doubts, he finally finds himself confronting his feelings when they come to the surface one fateful night when they rise uncontained. It is a night Viktor will not, and does not let him forget, especially when they wake up in each other's embrace. It's all too real and not imagined, yet Viktor has more plans.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, copy, repost, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 2.3k+

A/N: Hello lovelies. Well after the craziness that was season 2 of Arcane, I decided to give Jayce and Viktor a reprieve and have them kiss amongst other things. I have held on to this story for a few weeks because I treasure it and I hope you all enjoy. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

To the stars we go, there I may find you 

Beyond the catalyst of a dream forged 

Forged between two twin flames 

Open their arms, a dying star 

Bursting into the eternal sky forevermore 

******

Jayce, Jayce, Jayce. A soft voice mutters in his ear, stirring him from a dark void of sleep. Blinking in confusion, Jayce shifts, the sheets clinging, falling lower on his chest. He rubs his eyes, attempting to clear the blurriness from them. His eyes open, greeted by the sight of his familiar dark room.

On second glance, he sees the rise and fall of a bundled figure next to him, and last night's events play out for him. Him and Viktor in the lab, Him and Vicktor sneaking out of the lab, stumbling silly into one of their bedrooms. Viktor lifting Jayce carefully on the bed, despite the protest of both his leg and Jayce. 

“Viktor, careful please, it’s not safe-”

Viktor arched his brow and in that instant, Jayce knew he was a goner. He always knew in a way but refused to acknowledge it. Until, apparently, he found himself pinned to his bed by Viktor. Being buried under his lab partner was not on Jayce’s list, but he had to admit the thought occurred only during the few couple of times Victor’s hand brushed his reaching for a pencil, bumping into his shoulders, handing over a gadget, fingertips gently brushing his a second too long in hopes of making the moment last. Yeah, Jayce had to admit he definitely did not and could not take the hint. 

How stupid he was, he thought, when Viktor’s finger brushed along his lower lip, eyes darkening in desire, warmth, affection and a touch of something else. It couldn’t be. But Jayce was tired of dancing around it and fell to infinity the moment Viktor’s lips collided with his.

Jayce groaned as Viktor became more insistent, tangling a hand into Jayce’s hair, tugging  hard as his lips persisted in their conquest. Jacye was in no way shape or form in a position to complain, mind, body and soul lost to the kiss. A kiss he never in a million years thought would have occurred. Apparently Viktor did. Jayce broke from the kiss, gulping in air, Viktor smirking above him in amusement and admiration.

He stroked Jayce’s jawline with his index finger, his thumb brushing gently, oh so gently along Jayce’s lips admiring their warmth, slightly puffy from Viktor’s ministrations. Viktor’s heart swelled in pride at the sight that he did this to Jayce, making him a panting, gasping, then whimpering mess. 

“Viktor…I ... what?” Jayce stumbled, too stunned to speak, reaching his hands out to Viktor, pulling him down, their bodies colliding. Jayce stroked Viktor’s back, until Viktor decided to latch on to his neck, making him squirm against him, the air suddenly became harder to breathe, and all Jayce wanted was to savor the moment, as does Viktor, who was incessant in his conquest, taking advantage of Jayce’s squirming to straddle him, teasingly grinding himself against his hips. 

“V-Viktor…I…”Jayce swore softly, biting back another noise rising in the back of his throat as Viktor did it again, a soft gasp resounding from his lips all the while Jayce watched in awe, desperation, and desire. His heart swelled as Viktor reached down to press another kiss to his lips. Viktor did not hesitate, nibbling Jayce’s lip, latching onto his neck once more relishing in the feel of his partner squirming beneath him, a complete mess.

Oh, Viktor would show Jayce so much he desired to do to him for months, but for now he would lavish him with kisses, before getting the man on his knees and putting that smart eloquent mouth of his to work. 

******

“Jayce,” Viktor's voice comes into focus as the remaining sleep falls from Jayce’s mind. Well, that and the hours before Viktor claimed him over and over again. Jayce groans as he touches his neck, sore, definitely sore. 

“Viktor,” Jayce mutters, reaching for him still bundled on the side of the bed. He gently nudges him, grasping him on the shoulder. 

“Oh, good you’re awake after all. Thought I lost you there,” Viktor, pulls off the sheet from his head and it drags down revealing his bare shoulders and chest. Jayce doesn’t look away, enraptured once more with his partner, what they did last night.

He has no regrets, except that he wishes they had longer nights to kiss and do, well, whatever the heck Viktor had done to him and taught him last night. What he demanded Jayce to do and that Jayce had done so with eagerness and desperation. 

Jayce can’t help but smile, scooting closer to Viktor, to gently run his hands along Viktor’s body, beautiful in the soft light beginning to filter in through the windows. Viktor continues in his own perusal of Jayce’s body, delighting in the marks he left on Jayce.

His hands reach out to trace patterns on Jayce’s chest, coming up to cup his face, murmuring to himself before kissing him to ensure that it is real. Every bit of it was real and Viktor has irrevocably fallen further into the wonder that is his partner Jayce. 

Jayce returns the kiss in kind, taking his time, letting Viktor have the control, muffling a groan when Viktor’s tongue parts his lips, exploring, taking it slow, savoring them together in the early morning, exposed, not lost to the night shadows. Jayce lets himself fall, to the thrill of it all, the intimacy, so different from what he has experienced before.

He wants nothing more than this, than Viktor. A future with him. Together.

When they part a fraction of a moment, eyes meeting, searching for answers already spoken in their depths, Viktor doesn’t hesitate to push Jayce further, the space warming between their tangled bodies. Jayce whimpers a plea, his hips trying to desperately search for relief only Viktor could provide. 

“We could go to the lab later, and continue our work, Jayce. It does not mean I am finished with you, yet. I need your help perfecting a new idea I have been tinkering with.” 

“Viktor?” Jayce says more of a question than anything, swallowing another pathetic whimper, still riled with the nerves of the night and now. Such a pull Viktor has on him he cannot resist. He nods, curiosity getting the better of him. “Can I at least put a shirt on before we go?” 

“Take this.” Viktor  rolls his eyes, grabbing his cane leaning on the nightstand before absently tossing over a vest and shirt. Or rather one of his shirts and vests he had stolen from Jayce years ago as a joke. 

Jayce laughs, taking the offering, inspecting it before unbuttoning the shirt and carefully putting it on. “How long have you had this and why did you not tell me?” 

“What’s there for you to know? You clearly haven’t missed it all these years.” 

“Fair point,” Jayce mumbles, adding on the vest. Viktor’s eyes remained transfixed on the man in his bed, half dressed, hair a mess and he smiles softly. If this is what home felt like, then he knew he could be happy like this here with the man he had slowly, irrevocably fell for. In this lifetime and every one that follows.

He smiles to himself as he wraps the blanket around his shoulders, sauntering over to the dresser to fiddle through some clothes, choosing a shirt and vest as well. 

He feels Jayce’s gaze fixed upon him, and he lets the blanket slide a fraction from his shoulder, and then the other until he lets it fall completely to the floor, giving Jayce a full view of his back. He smirks to himself, making a show of picking out his own set of button up shirt and vest, jacket, and slacks before walking back to the bed, resting his cane down before sitting down and getting himself dressed.

Jayce’s gaze is still fixed upon him, the shifting of blankets doing nothing to hide the advances of the man Viktor has quite literally made to see stars many hours prior. 

There is a pure primal satisfaction in knowing. Knowing that he will remember for the rest of his days. Jayce’s lips on his, how willing he is to let Viktor do what he so desires to him, commands. 

Viktor allows a small sigh of satisfaction to pass his lips as he carefully puts on his pants, wincing as he twists to grab his shirt, until Jayce’s hand reaches out to stop him. 

“May I?” He asks, and it’s nothing but sincere, making warmth spread to Viktor’s cheeks. Viktor nods in confirmation while Jayce holds out the shirt behind him while he slips his arms in the sleeves, tugging it down like so to smooth out the wrinkles. Viktor stands so Jayce can fully face him, taking in his bare chest pale against the dark striped shirt Jayce slowly begins to button for him.

Jayce's gaze does not falter from the task, and he continues his task, helping with Viktor’s vest, buttoning it all snug and secure. When he is complete, Jayce hesitates a moment, locking his gaze almost shyly with Viktor’s who smirks, grasping Jayce by the chin to guide him to his lips, where they fall impossibly further again. 

Warmth, so much warmth floods the spaces between them and Viktor swears there is nowhere else he would rather be in the entire universe than here. When they break away once more, Viktor allows himself a small smile, amused by Jayce’s bright eyes and iridescent smile, which falters a bit when he reaches up to caress Viktor’s face with a hand. 

“Jayce. Is something wrong?” 

He huffs in reply shaking his head in disbelief. “Not at all. It is so far from wrong. Last night. This. Us…it’s been…fantastic. More than I could have dreamed.” 

“So…”

“It’s only,” Jayce pauses tracing a finger along Viktor’s lower lip. “You were never broken. Never to me. I only wish you felt you could trust me enough with everything you and I expressed last night.” Jayce sighs, pulling his hand away, which Viktor grasps firmly in his, his other hand reaching for Jayce’s neck, bringing his forehead down to rest against his partners. Try as he might, Viktor cannot hide the half smile that emerges on his lips, causing Jayce to beam in utter adoration. 

“In fairness, we both made things complicated, Jayce. And we were busy with Hextech, changing the world and everything. If you do recall.” 

“I only recall kissing you last night.” 

“Why doesn’t that surprise me.”

“I focus on the moments we are given, all while considering the future.”

Viktor rolls his eyes in amusement, his voice growing solemn as he ponders Jayce’s words. “Did you mean it? My whole life I have been broken.” 

“Of course I mean it, I meant every word. You were never broken. Your imperfections are what make you you . My imperfectly perfect partner. There is nothing more I could ask for.”

“But you couldn’t accept-”

“Viktor, I choose you. This day and the next. I cannot see so far into the future, but I know that there we exist together. I want to be with you, if you will have me and all I am. Accept me for who I am and all my flaws, everything in between. I feel this for you.” Jayce holds out his hands to Viktor who takes them, squeezing gently, for once this morning at a loss for words. Until, he snickers in realization. 

“What’s so funny? Oh no I messed up the speech, didn’t I? I am an idiot,” Jayce groans.

“Not at all, Jayce. We have carried this conversation half dressed. We have not been wearing pants and we will be late to the lab if we wait much longer.” 

“You’re right, that is important. Can I…may I kiss you again?”

Viktor smiles, pecking Jayce’s cheek. “Well, at least let me get my pants on. You as well. That is, if we can find any around here,” a raised brow follows the statement with a wry knowing smile.

Jayce laughs. “Yes, that is a wonderful idea. Heimerdinger would be tremendously confused about the situation.” 

“That or he would lock us in the lab for an entire night claiming it was an accident.” 

“Mel would be more likely to do that.” 

“Mel? Wait, was that why she was there last night ....” 

“Perhaps…perhaps not.” 

“Viktor, did you enlist Mel’s help to get the lab for the night?” Jayce inquires while finding and putting on his pants. Viktor did likewise as he formulates a reply. 

“A great scientist doesn't have to reveal all their unique methods, Jayce. You should know this by now. However, I am not done with you today.” Viktor’s eyes narrow as he contemplates all the things he wants to do with his partner, but quickly shoves it away.

“By all means, Viktor,” Jayce whispers in his ear, coming behind him to take him in his arms, whispering more sweet nothings, “I am looking forward to it.” 

“Good good. It is nice to know I have a willing participant to test a new device I have tinkered with. You would be the perfect candidate.”

Jayce stumbles, mumbling a few words, not knowing what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to Viktor’s neck, kissing behind his ear, nibbling the earlobe, making Viktor groan low.

Viktor silently swears to himself for what feels to be the hundredth time in the span of twenty four hours. He can’t wait to hear all the pretty sounds Jayce will make for him. How lovely it will be to break him, bring him to the precipice of pleasure again. All because of him.

******

[glytchedmuffins]

Okay, so, I talked about some Sampo thoughts before, but I never really talked about the whole poem thing, which seems to be a must when talking about this man so here we go.

I've seen many takes regarding the Sampo of Kalevala and Sampo Koski, his true identity, what role he plays and etc.

I personally have yet to read it, so most of my knowledge is based on wikipedia and tumblr.

I did notice that the theory that Sampo's real name is Ilmarinen (no idea if I spelled that correctly), the creator of The Sampo, is somewhat popular.

But, what if Sampo IS The Sampo? Like his name is actually Sampo Koski, it's not a fake name.

Like, let's say Sampo was born on Kalevala like most people believe, and let's say he was born there years ago, like, hundreds of years ago.

I say that because Sampo always gave me ancient vibes, which is why he calls himself an old timer, and if we go with the theory that he is an Emanator, then it is definitely plausible.

Anyways, back to Kalevala, if Sampo had left the planet hundreds of years before now, then it would make sense that stories of Sampo would change as time went on, eventually becoming the poem we know, when it wasn't how it really happened.

Basically, The Sampo of Kalevala is about Sampo Koski himself but hundreds of years of oral story telling led to it changing and you can now no longer tell it was about a person.

This can also create other ties, for example, The Sampo was stolen by a powerful entity and eventually lost, which could be Aha yoinking Sampo off the planet in reality, which to them was probably very confusing.

Why would Aha do this? Well, we know for a fact that the planet has gone to war over a powerful artifact before (gestures over to Guyun) and it def fits into Aha's MO to start a war.

After all, we do know there was battle after The Sampo was stolen in the poem.

But wait, you may probably not ask, Sampo is a living being, not an atrifact! Which to that I raise Sampo's lines from the recent events that show that this man sees all relationships as transactional and expects people to see him as a tool, so.

And if this is true, this would mean Sampo had the power the grant endless riches to people, and knowing people, he was no doubt only seen as a way to get rich rather than as a person.

Would explain why he joined the Masked Fools in the first place, before he grew older and realized these people sucked too, especially if they knew about the Emanator thing, and he proceeded to fuck off to Belobog where he was probably treated as a person and not a god/tool.

So to sum up; Sampo was born on Kalevala many ember eras ago, was able to grant people riches, was used and seen as a tool, Aha thought it would be funny to remove Sampo from the planet and start a war, Sampo joins the Elation as a means of escape, regrets it, goes to Belobog to escape, again, grows attached, and now has to embrace his powers and Emanator status instead of running away to protect the place he can finally call home.

[purble-turble]

i can 100% see Nezha and mk's relationship (regardless if it's platonic or romantic) being equally beneficial and detrimental. like there so much they could help each other with but also subconsciously cause serious problematic habits/ thought processes/ coping mechanisums for each other and themselves the biggest thing my brain latched onto was how MK could become Nezha's first truly safe space.

Nezha going what i know and understand about his lore and what we can glean from the little we know in the show's canon, definitely has it rough in the celestial realm. he had a very troubled childhood and is clearly haunted by his past and is being defined by it despite his efforts to grow and prove that he's better now. he can command respect for his strength and power but people still question him as a person, always waiting for him to slip up. what relationships he does have he probably doesn't feel fully safe expressing his real self and thoughts because it poses potential risks. then mk comes into the picture. Nezha's given him a safe place to talk openly and he'd want to offer the same to the prince. even if he can't help directly he knows just having someone to vent to can help. its small stuff at first, little complaints here and there about work and the celestial realm, but slowly nezha starts to open up about more personal stuff. stuff with his family, with other celestials, and about his past. and to his amazement and relief is met with only empathy and understanding from mk, even after learning about the darker stuff MK never judges him. Nezha doesn't have to mask anything about himself around mk, infact he's being encouraged to relax and just be his natural self around him. he's truly safe when its just him and mk, that feeling has to be euphoric for the poor guy used to being on guard constantly even around the people he loves.

but of course, could easily lead to a mutually unhealthy co-dependency. nezha's already been isolated to some degree having never had much of a positive support structure, and mk's slowly isolating himself away from his established support structure. resulting in an echo chamber of two very well-meaning but very mentally ill people.

(i'm so sorry this turned into a short essay I've been waiting three hours to get of shift so i can spill my brains out about this. i have more but I'm going to end it here in fear that i'm being a bit much about these two)

Noo don’t worry about this being long, I absolutely love it!!

You’re so right, Nezha and MK are at the same time a good counterbalance for each other while also being accidentally self-destructive. MK is a chaotic lil gremlin who follows his emotions and worries about consequences later and Nezha (in LMK at least) seems to be trying very hard to come at things logically and approach from a more grounded, duty-based perspective. They both could use a splash of the other’s energy in that manner, so in that way it’s for sure a good thing that they’re getting closer.

Problem is, like you said, these boys are sooooo mentally ill 😂 The feeling that they need to constantly be proving themselves, giving a little more away every time, pushing their own boundaries and suffering in silence because it’s what someone else needs- these are things they might accidentally end up encouraging in each other…. Actually, probably not even accidentally. They see the other working crazy hard and being run ragged physically and probably emotionally too, and they’re like “I am SO proud of you for sacrificing so much!” ..and both of them have never felt so seen as when the other says that to them. It’s validating their worst impulses to just keep going and giving because their own feelings about it are less important than everyone else’s.

Also, the fact that they feel like they can expect to get that praise when they admit to being stressed might even make them be more open about it. Only with each other, though… if they were to mention feeling overworked or burdened to their families, they know already that they would not get the response they were looking for.. but again, even if it means they’re being more open, it’s still not a super good thing that it’s reinforcing destructive behavior. :U

[reinbouxsworld]

Vil being Tamayo kind of implies that Neige is some sort of Muzan figure, hilarious as that is. Demon RSA. They get to be the baddies for once. (Does this make Chenya Douma then? 🤔)

BUT ALSO…

UPPER MOON LEONA!!!! I’m thinking of him and Falena having a sort of Kokushibo and Yoriichi situation. Strongest Demon Slayer Falena, who loved his little brother so much he could not bear to kill him.

LeoYuu. Leona taking a nap in some random secluded village during the day, and Yuu, unknowing peasant girl, accidentally steps on his clothes. The start of a beautiful relationship 🥹

Riddle feels like he would be Rui in the AU of an AU. It’s kind of fitting as well considering Riddle was the first overblot faced while Rui was the first Demon Moon faced. Heartslabyul Spider(?) Family?

Vil and Rook being Daki and Gyutaro. Vil who only eats beautiful people. Rook, who says he prefers to eat beautiful people but will eat just about anyone with no discrimination because “BEAUTE! 100 points!” Alternatively, Gyokko Rook.

Hantengu Idia… maybe?

Muzan Crowley going “Aren’t I so kind~” every time he turns someone into a demon.

Sorry for the long ask!

DON'T BE SORRY I LOVED IT FORL START TO FINISH OMG

OK OK, NEIGE IS NOT MUZAN. Buuuut... he IS a demon! AND YEP RSA BOYS ARE THE BADDIES FOR ONCE!!!! (I got so happy when I read this one I swear I felt like I wasn't insane by trying to imply this)

Tho Neige does look like rui (I wanted to get some of the spider design of him). But he's actually more on a Daki like role. He's inspired by jorogumo (spider demon on Japanese culture), which often takes the appearance of a beautiful woman. I'm still thinking how exactly his arc will work, so I can't say much besides Vil still hates him. 💅

Chenya is a demon whose resembles a cat (resembles cause he does not have ears that just his hair in here) AND he's very important to riddle's backstory — I can say that this is my favorite one till now tho.

Dramatic pause cause I'm about to gush over EVERYTHING NOW.

YES YES UPPER MOON LEONA IS LIKE MY SIDE HUSBAND AT THIS POINT AND YES I rrly like that idea????? Plus Farena would fit yorichi like a glove too AND GOOD I LOVE THE DOOMED SIBLINGS TROUPE 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Honestly I'm very into the fact that if they meet as Leona as demon yuu would be turned into one too, just to make sure the slayers don't hurt his human to get him???! (But I also I'm rlly into the "turn me into a demon" "no" "turn me into a demon" "no" turn me in-" "FOR GODS SAKE NO")

OMG, YES. Not only that, but riddle ministering the rules over spider!heartslabyul family would be so interesting. I'm going for Trey as dad, Cater as mom as Ace and Deuce as older brothers (tho I feel like these two would be way more destructive than necessary). But demon riddle would also be a insane adversary if you don't have the mommy issues card to throw at him.

I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY ABOUT VIL AND ROOK AS GYUTARO AND DAKI IS ALREDY PERFECT AS IT IS.

Tho gyokko rook WOULD be amazing cause only rook could pull of gyokko weird ass and still make sense??? But Mostly he would make people into art into a way of making them beautiful forever?? (Much like sasori from naruto with his "art is eternal" thing)

HATENGU IDIA IS THE ULTIMATE ONE THO. Not only that, but to have five/six versions of Idia, and his stronger and younger one would still be Ortho WOULD MAKE IT EVEN MORE WILD. Bonus point if real Ortho was killed by him after being turned into a demon.

You got me with muzan!Crowley I'm definitely making this real in the au (it actually makes him even more sinister? I can handle muzan choking but I draw the line at Crowley ACTUALLY think he is kind when he's destroying lives (he's prettier doing it tho)

[aspentreewrites]

and when all the flowers are rotten and all the cannons shot

Chapter 3

Pairings: Codywan

Tags/Warnings: (for current arc) slow burn, fake dating, only one bed, general angst and pining, realising feelings, Cody is having a breakdown, AO3 rating is E for future chapters

Link to read on AO3 here!

Description:

The truth of the matter burrows deep into Cody’s skin, settling into the home it’s long-since made for itself there, nestled tightly amongst the other secrets he harbours that are too shameful to ever speak aloud.

He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.

This is no longer just some passing infatuation.

He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(or: an account of the relationship between one Marshal Commander and his General from in the midst of a war.)

✷✷✷✷✷

A/N: Oh, Cody, we're really in it now. Happy holidays! It's been a tough end to the year, but everyone who's been so kind and left such lovely comments on here and on my AO3 have really been keeping me going :') thank you so much for reading so far!

As always, thank you so much to @whenyourfavouritedies (their AO3 link here) for beta reading!

Wordcount: 8.9k

Prev chapters: 1, 2

✷✷✷✷✷

The General and the Commander get a good deal of work done together that evening.

Their first order of business is checking in with Gregor about the state of the files they’d sent across - it seems they’re encoded, which isn’t much of a surprise, and will take a little while to fully decipher. A few select members of the 212th who can be trusted to keep quiet are already on it, and expect to have it cracked within the week.

Next comes the important affair of discussing the follow-up steps of the mission, particularly how they’re going to proceed with information gathering after facing Barrek directly, in a… less than subtle encounter. They aren’t able to come to a definite conclusion this evening.

Finally, they once more go over their guesses on what the deal they’re here to disrupt is actually likely to be. Knowing that it’ll be weapons related helps narrow it down, but not by much.

They trade dry comments about the state of things, about how much they’re already looking forward to getting back to normality once this is over. Obi-Wan makes a few comments about the state of the room’s provided caf machine - though he’s quick to mention that it’s still above the standard of some of the GAR-supplied requisitions.

The one thing they don’t speak of, is the kiss. 

A few times throughout the night the odd, thick tension rears its head. Cody catches the Jedi’s eyes lingering on him with a strange expression more than once, always glancing away when their gazes meet. 

Each time, it makes Cody wince. White, hot shame crawls across his skin before he has the time to shove it down, prickling beneath his collar. Cody knows - Force, how he knows - that Obi-Wan sensed more than he should have, earlier. To call it ‘mortifying’ would be an understatement.

It’ll pass, he tells himself. A lapse of judgement and concentration that he can make up for by performing professionally and exceptionally in the field, as often as he can from this point onwards. 

With any luck, his General will have pity on him and forget about the whole thing.

Rather robotically, Cody finds himself getting ready for bed that night. He goes through the motions of getting changed, all the while trying very, very hard to not think back to the feeling of Obi-Wan’s mouth on his. 

Stars above, he’s never been kissed so carefully, so gently. 

Because it wasn’t real, the voice in his head reminds him, sounding particularly bitter. Because it was a strictly professional necessity.

The thought makes his stomach twist, his heart aching with a longing that he knows, intrinsically, will be incredibly tricky to sate. It’s one thing to have feelings for someone, knowing they can never be acted upon… it’s another thing entirely to experience a taste of what could be, if only everything were different.

If not for the fact that Cody is certain that it’s unrequited, if not for the war…

Cody can’t help but let out a heavy sigh. If not for the war, he wouldn’t exist at all. The reminder is a lead weight upon his soul, albeit an old and familiar one. 

He’s a man whose hands were engineered to be bloody, he’s come to be at peace with that.

Despite it all, sometimes he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be nat-born. To exist for the sole purpose of living, not for taking life.

To be someone that could be allowed to love, and be loved in return.

Perhaps that version of Cody, unburdened by the war and the weight of expectation, would have the courage to go after the things he wants.

To tell Obi-Wan how he feels…

Cody wrinkles his nose. He’s being far too sentimental and dramatic over something that doesn’t need to be such a big deal. They’re just… feelings. He can live with that.

The two men settle in to attempt sleep that night, firmly keeping to their opposite sides of the bed. An unspoken rift of tension has opened up between them, and Cody doesn’t quite know where to start in broaching it. 

Perhaps the morning will bring clarity. It usually does.

With a deep exhale, the Commander closes his eyes, willing himself to shut off his mind and rest. 

The moons have risen high enough in the sky by now that their light permeates gently through the thin curtains of the hotel room, creating a uniquely soothing atmosphere. 

Cody, like most of the vode, is far more used to the artificial darkness of a sleeping pod than natural moonlight. Some of his brothers struggle to relax under the light of the real stars, finding it far too bright, but never him. In his mind, no fluorescent recreation is ever a substitute for the real thing.

He focuses on that light, on the repetitious sound of waves lapping at the shore outside, and allows himself to let go, as much as he is able.

When the morning comes, Cody isn’t afforded the luxury of a gentle awakening.

Rather, the sound of a scream startles him into consciousness. His hand moves without deliberate input, closing around the blaster on his nightstand even before his eyes have fully opened. When they do, his gaze is sharp, deadly - a trained killer, alert and hunting for the enemy. 

… The enemy that appears to be a distressed child outside who’d dropped their ice cream. 

With a slow exhale, Cody’s grip on the pistol loosens, setting it back down as his shoulders slump, just a little. 

He glances around the room as his heart rate calms, his eyes settling on the source of the sound - the open balcony door, much wider than they’d left it last night. That’s odd.

His gaze automatically shifts to Obi-Wan in concern - or, rather, where Obi-Wan should be. Instead, he finds himself staring at an empty side of the bed. 

The Jedi being up before him explains the balcony being open at least, though Cody can’t deny that the smallest flicker of disappointment that wells up within him at the sight. 

He tamps it down swiftly.

Cody has kicked himself into his normal alertness, showered and dressed for the day by the time the Obi-Wan returns. The other man is as calm and steady as he always seems to be, balancing two bowls in the crook of one arm and two mugs of caf in another as he steps through the threshold of their room. 

For the briefest of moments, Cody stills, quietly remembering that he doesn’t quite know how to approach today. 

And then Obi-Wan turns to face the door behind him with a scrunched brow, and any hesitation in Cody is immediately overridden by the sight of his general in need of rescue.

“Had a trip to find breakfast?” he finds the words to ask, heading over to offer aid for the precarious crockery situation. Obi-Wan hums appreciatively in response, gratefully allowing the other man to take a bowl and both mugs from him, slipping the door closed with his now-free hand.

“Thank you. Yes, I bought some fruit from the kitchens downstairs. They were supposed to be complementary, apparently, but they still somehow weaseled some credits from me. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Ah, so they’re pretending that nothing happened last night. Cody finds himself considerably relieved - he can work with that.

“Beats ration bars,” he returns with a shrug, eyeing the offerings with cautious interest. Even if the rest of the food here was definitely over-complicated and over-priced, they surely couldn’t go too wrong with preparing fruit. He sets the mugs on the sideboard to better investigate.

“... How did they get you to give them money?”

Obi-Wan grimaces. “The staff said it was a ‘charitable donation’.”

Cody can’t help the way his mouth twitches into a smirk..

“Uh-huh.”

“... To go towards their Life Day bonuses.”

“There it is.”

Obi-Wan frowns, looking defensive even as he pops a grape into his mouth. 

“If they say it’s for charity, I can’t very well go ignoring their request,” he protests, waving a hand in front of him as if to illustrate his point. “And they’re likely being underpaid anyway, so it’s simply good manners–”

Cody snickers, shaking his head and giving his Jedi a fond grin. “Mm, no, absolutely,” he agrees, a hint of teasing in his tone. “Which reminds me, sir, I have a bridge to sell you on Corellia, actually–”

Obi-Wan does his best to not look impressed, though his eyes betray him as they always do, lighting up in mirth. “Oh, hush, you.”

Cody can’t hide his amusement, even as he attempts an imploring expression.  “It really is a fantastic piece of architecture, though. And at such a reasonable price…”

He trails off as he sees the fond exasperation painting Obi-Wan’s features. It’s one of the other man’s signature countenances, and one he’s been on the receiving end of many times over the years. He doubts he’ll ever get sick of it.

“So,” the Jedi starts pointedly, steering the conversation to more practical topics. “The finalised agenda for today.”

Cody nods, taking a bite of a piece of fruit as his expression turns more serious. It’s one he’d seen growing on the native trees here during his excursions through the grounds yesterday - bright pink and not dissimilar to an apple, but decidedly more sour. He thinks he likes it. 

“Right. We’re hoping to intercept Barrek at 1030 hours,” he recites easily, shrugging slightly at the Jedi’s request to go over all of this again.

Cody is a man who prides himself on his strategic prowess - it’s entirely good practice for he and Obi-Wan to cover the mission details whenever they have downtime, he’s aware of this.

… All the same, this isn’t a battlemap with three chokepoints, a hundred enemies, and countless potential flanking positions to watch out for. This linear-style of plan is as simple as it gets.

“While he’s booked a slot on the local tour,” Obi-Wan adds, stroking a hand over his beard in thought. Cody’s eyes track the movement idly. 

“For some reason.”

The Jedi hums. “It seems as if he’s treating every moment that he’s not involved in intergalactic crime as a legitimate holiday.”

Cody huffs at the thought. It doesn’t seem particularly likely to him that someone preparing to take down the Republic would be so relaxed as to go around sightseeing like a normal tourist - but then again, he supposes he’s not really got an insider look on the proclivities of terrorists. 

“Perhaps,” he responds, though his tone is doubtful. “So we tag along on the tour to watch Barrek, see if he tries to slip away, or takes any extra notice in concealed coves or hideaways. What comes after that…?”

Obi-Wan finishes off his bowl of fruit, placing down the dish on a small side table. “Lunch, I suppose,” he says evenly, checking the chrono on his wrist.

Now it’s Cody’s turn for exasperation.

“I meant with Barrek,” he clarifies. He reaches for a cup, taking a sip of his caf. The warmth of the mug in his hands is a grounding sensation, the same here as it always is during their morning meetings, wherever they may happen. It’s a pleasant constant to be drawn back to.

“Well, I imagine he’ll be eating lunch too,” Obi-Wan muses, “perhaps we might be able to do so together, hm?”

Cody raises a brow.

“You’re certain that’s wise? Won’t he remember, well… everything from last night?”

Obi-Wan smiles. “I daresay I’m counting on it, Commander.”

Now that catches Cody’s attention. He gestures for Obi-Wan to continue, and the Jedi steeples his fingers together, a plan already put together in full, it seems.

“We introduce ourselves with an apology for our drunken impropriety last night, and tell him that we recognise him from previous Pyke dealings. He’ll be irritated by us, but intrigued. Play up the oblivious angle and he might just spill something about the deal tonight.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Cody’s brow pinches in a frown, already going over the thousands of ways that such a direct ploy might backfire. “Wouldn’t announcing our intentions like that be an incredibly suspicious move?”

Obi-Wan shrugs, clearly an old hand at this social game by now.

“Then he writes us off as oblivious and unsubtle smugglers - they’re a credit a dozen in a system like this. A spy would never be quite so direct.” He finishes off his own mug of caf, glancing at Cody with a sly twinkle in his eye.

“Never,” Obi-Wan starts, his tone indicative of an incoming lesson, “underestimate the value of someone believing you to be a harmless fool.”

Cody can’t help but chuckle. “That’s usually Skywalker’s gambit, as I recall.”

“And just who do you think he learned it from?” Obi-Wan responds lightly, giving Cody a friendly pat on the shoulder. The Jedi taps his chrono, before turning to grab his coat from the nearby hook. “Now, we’d best be off, my dear. I believe we have a tour to catch.”

Cody nods, rolling his shoulders as he slips on his own jacket. Once more into the fray by each other’s side. 

The lingering nervousness of the need to uphold his alias remains, though with the success of last night, Cody has to say his confidence has grown, just a little.

He offers Obi-Wan a small smile as they step out into the corridor, offering him his arm to take in a moment of boldness. 

He knows he probably shouldn't indulge like this, and it'll likely only serve to make his predicament worse, but he can't find it in himself to care as he feels Obi-Wan's arm slip into his own, the Jedi's warmth steady and reassuring.

“It seems we do.”

______________________________

The tour of the curated grounds outside of the hotel ends up being as much of a waste of time as the both of them had suspected - not that they’re here to sightsee, but the Jedi and Commander still can’t help but make muttered comments to one another under their breaths with every egregious claim made by their guide.

The worker giving the tour has a veritable litany of diplomatically worded stock phrases about the history of the planet that they cycle though, obscuring the planet’s history as a corporate bidding ground and making it sound more like a ‘paradise’ that happened to be discovered by their company’s founder. The word ‘colonisation’, in particular, is very carefully tiptoed around.

At least some of the views are worth appreciating.

From their position at the back of the group, they maintain a watchful eye on Barrek, noting anything he seems to be paying particular attention to, any moment that could possibly give him means to slip away unnoticed.

… And Cody has to begrudgingly admit that it does, in fact, seem like the man is here to enjoy himself - it looks like he’s genuinely interested in the things the tour guide is saying. Force knows why.

As the event is wrapping up and the group is beginning to disperse, the two men share a glance and a subtle nod. Now or never.

Obi-Wan and Cody make their pre-planned approach, catching up to their target before he can disappear out of their sight. The Jedi clears his throat.

“Atashe Barrek?”

The Rodian’s shoulders stiffen, and the man turns, eyeing the two warily. Obi-Wan puts on a bright, easy grin, offering a friendly wave as he steps over. “It’s Renne. From that party for the Syndicate, back on Oba Diah? I knew I recognised you when we talked last night!”

Bold, bold move. Barrek lurches forwards as Obi-Wan says just the right amount of ‘too much’, the Rodian’s hand reaching out to grasp him by the lapel of his coat. Cody tenses, but taking his cue from his General, doesn’t move to intercept the attack. Still, he feels his shoulders draw up, body coiled like a spring even as he tries not to show it.

“Keep. Your voice. Down,” Barrek hisses, his fist tightening in the fabric. Cody makes note of the four different ways he could break the Rodian’s wrist from this position if things get ugly, his entire focus narrowed down to the threat currently being presented. It’s a nice fantasy, if nothing else - the sight of someone manhandling the Jedi like this irks him, and he itches to act.

Obi-Wan can handle himself, Cody knows this, but it’s his job above all else to handle things for him so he doesn’t have to. 

During a particularly intense confrontation, Ventress had once referred to him as Kenobi’s trained attack dog. It was meant to be a disparaging comment, he’s sure, something intended to deny him of his agency - Obi-Wan’s eyes had flashed with something uncharacteristically dangerous at the comparison -  but in the moment, Cody couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.

So he’s an attack dog, then - good. Obi-Wan is his charge, and it’s his duty to go down fighting with bloodied claws and teeth, ensuring that he takes the hits in the other man’s place. 

The small thrill he gets from the thought is probably not wholly borne from the loyalty trained into him since decanting - though Cody finds it easier to pretend that’s all that it is.

There’s no Commander Cody without a General Kenobi to protect. It’s simply the way of the Galaxy.

The Jedi placidly smiles as Barrek’s grip loosens and eventually lets go, Cody’s hackles lowering reluctantly as he does so. A small, irrational part of him almost wanted the Rodian to push, just for an excuse to put him in his place. It would certainly be more comfortable than playing nice.

“Ah, of course, of course. Secrecy, got it,” Obi-Wan murmurs, the vacant grin still plastered on his face as he taps the side of his nose conspiratorially.

Cody forces on a smile too, though his gaze is probably still a little too sharp on the man who’s far too comfortable with putting his hands on Obi-Wan. 

He sucks in a quiet breath as he feels a foreign, yet soothing rush of calm entering his mind, no doubt courtesy of his Jedi sensing the tension that runs through him. 

Cody allows it to seep into him, relaxing his shoulders and reminding himself that even without their usual access to their weapons, they still have the advantage here. His eyes meet Obi-Wan’s for the briefest of moments, silently thanking him for the assist.

Barrek takes a step back to brush himself off, though he’s still clearly irritated. He glances around rather conspicuously to check no one else is listening in, before shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Good. Who are you and why do you know me?” he growls, voice low.

Obi-Wan blinks, managing an incredibly convincing look of offense. “You don’t remember? Really, Atashe, I would have thought you would.” 

At Barrek’s ensuing blank stare, he elaborates, “Renne and Vidarr Emerin. We were at the Pyke Palace - the soiree last year? We were speaking to Lom himself when you were passing, and I said–”

At the mention of the leader of the Syndicate, Barrek pales. 

Cody holds his breath. If their words are being believed here, then Obi-Wan has made them out to potentially be incredibly important. This could all come tumbling down terrifyingly easily.

“Right– right,” Barrek interrupts, nodding vigorously. “I, ah– I remember now,” he lies. “Yes, at the, uh, mid-year party, right? I had drunk a lot, so that was why I didn’t immediately…” he trails off, eyes darting between them, evidently trying to put together pieces of a puzzle, unaware that the two men in front of him are playing chess instead.

“Of course, of course,” Obi-Wan returns brightly, clapping a hand on Barrek’s shoulder. “Now, you were on your way to the buffet before I interrupted you, right? How about we join you for lunch?” 

The Rodian isn’t quite as adept at concealing his grimace as Cody imagines he intended to be.

“I… already arranged for company,” he says with a frown, his discomfort palpable. Obi-Wan’s smile grows brighter, clasping his hands together in delight. 

“Well, more colleagues to meet sounds perfect! Lead the way.”

There’s not really much Barrek can do with that level of social ineptitude. As frustrated as he clearly is, Obi-Wan has done a skilful job of getting across that ‘Renne’ does run in the same circles as him, and the Rodian has no way of knowing how important they are to the Pykes, meaning he has to play nice just in case.

Barrek blinks, bewildered, not quite realising that he’s been expertly backed into a corner.

“... Uh, fine. It’s… Yeah, this way.” 

Cody and Obi-Wan share a glance behind the Rodian’s back as he begrudgingly gestures for them to follow him inside. The Jedi has a distinctive triumphant gleam in his eye, but Cody suspects it’s a little too early to call victory just yet.

The real work starts now.

______________________________

Barrek leads the two of them through to a small table at the resort’s pop-up buffet for today’s lunch, awkwardly introducing the two of them to an apparent girlfriend, a Togrutan woman named Lia. 

It’s admittedly strange that their intelligence hadn’t mentioned her at all, and from Cody’s memory, there was no hint of a second person staying in Barrek’s hotel room last night. Not enough reason to outright be suspicious, but definitely something to keep track of.

Despite his reservations, he offers her what he hopes is an easy smile as they settle down to eat.

Obi-Wan takes a seat across from Barrek, wasting no time in starting conversation about their ‘mutual’ line of work. 

Cody is content to let the Jedi take the lead in conversation, his eyes tracking the lunch hall around them as subtly as he can. It’s not particularly busy in here right now, but they’re not exactly in the most secluded of spots… if someone were to attempt to listen in, they’d find it all too easy.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by Lia reaching across the table and tapping him lightly on the arm.

“The two of you are together, then?” she asks with a smile, inclining her head towards Obi-Wan.

It takes Cody a moment to register what she’s asking. Ah. Here they go. Time to actually play the role he’s been preparing for for the past few weeks.

He glances to where Obi-Wan is still very much engaged in conversation with Barrek, wincing internally. Looks like he’s on his own.

“Ah, yeah,” he replies, finding a tone that feels too light and airy to be natural to him. “Married, actually,” he adds, gesturing to the band on his ring finger. 

Lia seems to be expecting him to say something else in the ensuing pause, so he offers a small smile. “We’re… here on our anniversary.” 

Lia actually sighs at that, resting her head on her hand and smiling dreamily.

“Oh, how sweet. I figured it must have been a special occasion for the two of you,” she practically coos. Cody raises a brow.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I saw you the other night. The two of you are just so…” she shrugs, eyes sparkling. “... In love, really.” She leans in, giving him a playfully conspiratorial nudge. “I wish Barrek would look at me like that.”

Cody lets out a strangled laugh, the sound more one of a desperate need to cover his surprise than anything else. He takes a sip of his drink, trying to stall out the need for a response. How had they been looking at each other, exactly?

“I, uh, I suppose we got lucky,” he manages to say after a moment, hearing the way his voice comes out a tiny bit strained, though luckily Lia doesn’t seem to pick up on it. Keep talking, Cody, Vidarr would not shut down on this topic, he reminds himself, trying to keep his calm as much as possible. “Closest thing to soulmates someone could get, I’d say.”

“Yeah?” Lia prompts, twirling the end of one of her lek around her finger. She’s enraptured, which Cody is grateful for, because it means he’s being believable enough - but it’s also absolutely terrible, because it means he’s going to have to improvise more.

“Well, y’know…” Cody starts, glancing sidelong to Obi-Wan, who’s currently leant back against the chair lazily as he talks shop with Barrek. He finds a strange sense of sureness wash over him as he takes a moment to just… look. Talking about being partners with someone. He thinks he can do that. He turns back to Lia with another smile, this one more certain than his previous attempts.

“We just… fit, I suppose,” he says with a shrug, his voice soft, thoughtful. “A good duo. Not just the, uh… romantic stuff. We’re close friends, allies first and foremost.”

He pauses to take another sip of his drink, feeling his heart ache slightly, tugged on by some invisible (but far too familiar), force. For once, he thinks, it could be helpful. He doesn’t push it away.

“It’s what makes it so special, you know? I know there’s nothing I can go through that he wouldn’t have my back for, and he feels the same about me. It’s…” Cody looks down at the band on his finger, his expression turning more pensive. “It’s only been a few years, but I can’t imagine anyone else being by my side. Being that… primary person that I turn to when I need advice, or… just company, really.”

He falls quiet for a moment, reflecting on the truth of the words. How much of this is him trying to play as Vidarr, and how much is real? It’s all tangled up in his mind, an inextricable knot of uncertainty.

“... That’s love,” Lia responds softly, giving him a warm smile.

Cody blinks. “Is it? I–” he meets Lia’s gaze again, scrambling to not blow his cover. “It– it is, I mean. Love.” 

He lets out a steadying breath, focusing on making a recovery, and not on the way his heart has picked up its pace violently.

Is that what love is?

 “I think I just forget that not everyone has something like this,” he says, forcing on the smile again. “It becomes so normal after a while. Background noise.”

Lia offers him a wry smile, her eyes landing on Barrek briefly, something like sadness etched there for the briefest of moments.

“Would that we all could be so fortunate,” she murmurs, her finger idly tracing the rim of her glass.

She smiles something bright and fake as Barrek turns back to face her, slinging an arm over the back of her chair.

“Ready to go, babe,” the Rodian announces, and the two ‘couples’ stand from the table, bidding their goodbyes. Obi-Wan goes in for a hug, which Barrek uncomfortably rebuffs.

‘It’s not laying it on too thick if it works’, Obi-Wan had told Cody earlier, blatantly enjoying the idea of playing the fool a little too much.

The man was right, Cody concedes, watching the way Barrek rolls his eyes as soon as they think they’re out of sight. ‘Renne’ seems to have been relegated to ‘harmless idiot’ status in the Rodian’s eyes, just as they’d planned.

Obi-Wan takes Cody’s arm once again as they head outside. The Commander forces down the distracting, odd feeling in his chest that has been lingering from the conversation with Lia, pushing it away to deal with later. Much, much later, if he has anything to say about it. His deathbed, perhaps, when he’s old and only has half of his memories left anyway.

… Although, Cody imagines he’s kidding himself with the notion that he’ll get to live that long in the first place.

“Success?” he asks the Jedi, attempting to shake off his persistent discomfort as the two head to the resort’s gardens to speak privately.

Obi-Wan nods. “He was incredibly resistant to saying more than he needed to, but all the same…” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, looking considerably self-satisfied. “They’ll be meeting at 9:30pm tomorrow. I’m not certain where, but we can trail Barrek if we’re careful.”

Cody lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“I don’t know why I was worried. Good job.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “It was purely luck, I assure you, but I appreciate it nevertheless.”

They pause for a moment to watch as a sparrow flutters overhead to land at a nearby birdfeeder. A small moment of peace after the emotional chaos of the last twenty minutes.

Beside him, Obi-Wan’s head tilts a little, a warm expression gracing his features.

“And you did excellently, too. Not that I could pay attention to the entirety of your conversation, but it looked like you dealt with Lia confidently,” he compliments. Watching Cody’s response carefully, he adds, “I do not, of course, wish to patronise. I only mention it as I knew you were nervous about the ordeal.”

Cody feels himself flush a little under the praise. He can take commendations about his prowess in battle - he knows he’s good at that - but it always feels harder, somehow, when it’s something he’s unsure about.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” he murmurs, eyes still tracking the small bird ahead of them.

Obi-Wan nods, and the two fall into a companionable silence.

Cody allows himself a brief reprieve from the stress of the last hour, quietly letting himself just enjoy the moment in the here and now. A gentle scent from the flowerbeds around them diffuses through the air, the sunlight peeking through the sheet of clouds above to softly make itself known.

Obi-Wan turns to fix him with a faux-earnest look, his eyes twinkling with what can only be described as mischief. 

“Though, speaking of that chat you had… Soulmates, are we?” He asks innocently.

… Well. Cody was enjoying the moment. He feels his cheeks flush even brighter.

“Not. Another. Word,” he mutters, frowning over at the other man. Obi-Wan simply grins in return.

“No? Not one?” he presses, clearly delighting in the huff of annoyance that draws from his Commander.

“You’re incorrigible,” Cody grumbles. “I’m not going to encourage it, I know you too well.”

Obi-Wan hums at that, expression softening ever so slightly to reveal a genuine affection underneath his smirk. He gently nudges the Commander’s shoulder with his own, glancing back to the resort behind them.

“You certainly do, my dear. Come, we should be getting back to get our further agenda in order.”

Cody sighs, unable to keep from returning the fond smile.

“Right behind you. As always.”

______________________________

Obi-Wan had always been good at flirting.

Flirting, flirting, flirting, with anything that moves, anything that breathes.

He particularly has an aptitude for flirting with the enemy.

That doesn’t mean that Cody is good at listening to him do it.

The Commander sighs, fiddling with his comm-unit to give him something to occupy his hands with, focusing on getting the signal as clear as possible.It’s fairly clean already, but he’s desperate for something to do.

The smooth tones of his General drift out from the small device, serving to make the crease of his brow deepen.

“What’s gotten into you?” Rex asks from beside him, glancing sidelong at his oldest friend. 

Cody grumbles under his breath, keeping his attention on the damn comm-unit. The tiny thing is vexing him more than it probably should. 

For a brief moment, he fantasises about crushing it.

“Nothing,” he responds irritably. 

Even through his vod’s helmet, he can practically feel the raised brow this earns him. 

“Nothing,” Rex repeats, sounding skeptical. “Sure.”

The two drift into a silence once more, keeping an ear to the unfortunate conversation they’re listening in on over the comms. Once General Kenobi says the codephrase, the 212th are going to rush in, the 501st backing them up.

It’s just… taking longer than they expected.

Stars, why can’t they just get on with it? The Commander feels twitchier than usual, some unknown force making his usually endless patience wear thin. 

His General throws out a casual line about the target’s eyes pleasantly matching the shirt they chose, and Cody rolls his eyes. At this rate, his scowl will be permanently etched onto his features. 

Rex once again notices his tension.

“He’s just stalling until Skywalker arrives,” the Captain tries, but it doesn’t do anything to abate Cody’s prickly mien. 

“Then he should get there faster,” Cody huffs, trying not to let the words come out in as much of a snap as they seem to want to. He’s aware he’s being irrational, but he can’t seem to shake it off.

Rex doesn’t respond. 

After Skywalker comms in to inform them that he’d be at least another ten minutes (because of course he will be, Cody thinks to himself), the two hunker down in their small, temporary bunker (if it can even be called that - it’s more of an empty shack that they’d squeezed themselves into to keep out of sight while awaiting their next orders). Rex removes his helmet with a sigh, running through a routine check of his blasters to give himself something to do in the meantime.

A soft, charming laugh fills the room, a little fuzzy from the distortion of the comm signal. “You’re too much, truly. But I would be lying if I said it doesn’t intrigue me,” Obi-Wan murmurs - or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say he purrs. 

Either way, it irks Cody considerably, making his chest feel oddly tight. He can clearly imagine the look on the Jedi’s face as he speaks, that sultry glint in his eye that comes to him so easily when he’s making eyes at the enemy.

“... It’s not about the mission.” 

What? Cody startles as Rex breaks the silence, having apparently been watching him carefully for the last few minutes. Cody looks back at his vod like he’s grown a second head.

“Of course it’s about the mission,” he objects, absolutely baffled by his suggestion. “We’re wasting precious time, and the men are sitting ducks out here. I’d rather not do most of this firefight after sundown–”

“Sure, Codes, but difficult odds never phase you this much,” Rex counters, raising a brow.  He continues to watch Cody, his gaze searching for Force knows what. The Commander is suddenly very grateful he never took his own helmet off. 

“In fact,” the Captain presses, “I’ve never known you to be so off your game in the field. You usually do best when you’re backed into a corner. So it’s not about the mission.”

Cody doesn’t really know how to respond. He doesn’t particularly want to delve into all of the reasons behind his uncharacteristic distractions today.

“Just drop it, Rex’ika,” he insists, his voice a little weary. “I’m just feeling a little off today. It’ll pass.” 

Something like sympathetic understanding crosses Rex’s features. Cody watches him hesitantly try to find his next words. 

“... Is it about what happened on Cato Neimoidia a few weeks ago?” he asks. “How’ve you been sleeping since then?” 

Cody shakes his head quickly. “No, I– I’m fine. I’m sleeping fine.” Or - as fine as a man whose life has been spent at war is capable of sleeping, but Rex knows well enough what he means. His last mission had been… messy, to put it lightly, but he’s dealt with worse. He can compartmentalise.

His brother looks a little relieved to hear that, though Cody can tell he still wants to push.

Another comment from Obi-Wan that implies he and the target are imminently about to go home with one another makes its way through the space, and Cody grumbles quietly under his breath. Something seems to click for the Captain. Something that seems to amuse him greatly.

“... Ah,” Rex says. The corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk. Cody wishes it didn’t do that.

“What?” he responds, tone clipped and making it clear that he is absolutely not in the mood for whatever the other man is about to come out with.

“Just connecting some dots.” If Rex looked any more smug right now, Cody might consider walking right out of the shack and eating his blaster - it would ultimately be more dignified than sitting through this inevitable conversation.

He does not want to talk about this, not now, not ever.

“Rex…” he murmurs lowly, a clear warning bleeding into his tone.

A warning that, of course, goes unheeded.

“You’d be unfazed trying to take down a kriffing rancor. And jealousy is what throws you off?”

If looks could kill, the 501st would need to hire a new Captain after this.

“I’m not jealous,” Cody rebuts without hesitation. He spoke too quickly, he knows immediately from the look on his brother’s face. Damn it all.

“No? Then why is every flirt he makes causing you to sound like Fox on that day the caf supplies ran out?” Rex looks practically triumphant in his discovery. “Oh, Force. That also must be why you got all touchy when that Twi’lek came onto Kenobi that time in 79’s. I thought it was about the other guy, but it wasn’t, was it?”

Cody sputters for a moment, trying to come up with a viable defense. 

“That’s not– I–”

As far as Rex is concerned, that’s a veritable confession. He offers his friend a wide grin, returning his focus to the comms.

“Your secret’s safe with me, ori’vod. I won’t tell a soul,” he says, far too brightly for Cody’s liking.

Cody considers continuing to argue, but he knows that it’s a lost cause. With a heavy sigh, he deflates, slouching in his chair.  

“If you were one of my men, I’d have you court-martialed for insubordination,” he mutters darkly, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’ll add that to the extensive list of reasons I’m glad I’m not one of your men, then,” Rex returns easily, giving Cody a playful nudge.

The Commander snorts, shaking his head. A wry smile finds its way onto his face, despite everything.

“Yeah, yeah. I still outrank you.”

The comm crackles with murmurs of conversation, and the two share an alarmed look. The codephrase.

“I’ll harass you about it later,” Rex chuckles, pulling on his helmet as the two rush out of the bunker.

“Just worry about surviving long enough to do that first, vod.” Cody mutters. “I could still shoot you in the back before this is all over.”

His brother only laughs.

______________________________

With the knowledge that the deal was set to be happening the following evening, the Jedi and Commander had spent the rest of their day at a fairly leisurely pace. After much persuasion, Cody had even let Obi-Wan buy a dinner for them both.

(“We usually split at Dex’s,” Cody had protested, not wanting the Jedi to pay out of pocket for such an expensive outing. He was aware that Obi-Wan had access to much more money than he did, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Yes, but I want to do something nice for you,” Obi-Wan insisted, gently placing a hand on Cody’s, staying his hand from reaching for his wallet. “I asked you to join me here on the mission in the first place, so let me repay you in kind.”

Cody had raised a brow at that. “I’ll be getting paid by the Republic for agreeing to come, regardless.”

Obi-Wan’s expression didn’t falter. “You might be, yes, but not nearly enough. Allow me this, please.”

Cody always had been bad at denying him when he used that tone.)

They’d both fallen asleep quickly that night, having stayed up to trade stories - a familiar ritual from when they first began working late together to get their mountains of paperwork turned in on time.

Obi-Wan tells Cody of planets he’d visited before the war, and promises to take his Commander to see some of them once this is all over - to give him the holiday and time off that the Jedi says he deserves. Cody regales his Jedi with tales of his childhood on Kamino, telling him of the books Shaak-Ti had helped smuggle to them to help the tubies sleep at night.

The following morning brings with it a quiet sort of strangeness.

Something urgent, but not necessarily dangerous, tugs at the edge of Cody’s conscious mind, gently drawing him to wakefulness.

He’s warm, warmer than he’d usually like to be, and he can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s something important that he needs to be paying attention to.

He dozes, trying to figure out what, if anything, is different about today.  

Obi-Wan lets out a soft murmur behind him in his sleep, pressing his nose closer against Cody’s back and– 

Oh.

Well, that would certainly explain the warmth.

Cody doesn’t move, doesn’t even dare breathe as his mind works overtime to process the situation. 

Obi-Wan is pressed directly behind him, one of his arms slung lazily over his torso. For want of a better word (and Cody is desperately searching for one), the Jedi is… holding him.

An explosion of conflicting emotions bubble in Cody’s chest, his mind still far too fogged from sleep to make sense of any of it.

With each breath from Obi-Wan, Cody can feel the rise and fall of his chest against his back, and in a brief moment of delirium, he finds himself wishing that he’d forgone his undershirt too, just to feel the touch of skin against skin.

It’s a thought he immediately admonishes himself for, wondering just where, exactly, he’d gained the audacity to think such an unprofessional and objectifying thing about his commanding kriffing officer. 

Cody’s breath grows progressively more shallow as he continues to draw a blank. How had this even happened? Cody is firmly stationed on his own side of the bed, meaning it was the Jedi who had to have shuffled over - but that means nothing. He’s asleep, and pressing close is a normal sleeping instinct when you’re in bed with someone else. Right? Perhaps Obi-Wan was just cold - though, that would hardly make sense, given that they’re on a tropical kriffing island.

Cody’s face, he’s sure, is flushing deeply, his heart hammering against his ribs at the contact. It’s fine. This… can be fine, and not existentially mortifying - as long as he extricates himself from the hold before Obi-Wan wakes up.

He doesn’t even want to imagine how awkward this would be if the other man was aware of what was happening.

He tries a very, very gentle shuffle towards the edge of the bed, but Obi-Wan lets out a quiet groan of protest in his sleep, curling himself around the clone even tighter.

Cody desperately tries to ignore the way that the sound goes straight to his groin.

Shit, shit, shit. 

He doesn’t see another solution, though he wishes he did. Cody once again shifts, a little more firmly now, peeling Obi-Wan’s arm off from him as carefully as possible.

The second he sees a hint of freedom, the Commander bolts, rolling out of bed and rushing to the ‘fresher. 

His Jedi, thank every star in the sky, does not seem to stir.

Safe inside the refresher, with the door locked behind him and his mind buzzing, Cody thinks faintly that his legs might actually give out under him.

Between the feeling of Obi-Wan pressed close against his back, and Lia’s words from yesterday still unsettling him, he feels like he’s losing his mind.

It all adds up to a great cacophony in his head, one Cody has absolutely no idea what to begin to do with. It’s too loud, too insistent, and his heart is still fluttering like a caged bird attempting escape.

A shower, he decides, is a good first step. He could probably do with a shower.

Shrugging off his sleepclothes, he numbly makes his way to the cubicle, determined to do something, anything, to calm his racing thoughts.

Cody presses his forehead against the cold tiles as the scalding water runs down his back. Neither of the contrasting sensations serve to ground him in reality the way he wishes they would.

He… wants.

No, that’s not quite right.

Wanting is ephemeral, malleable. It’s intense, burning, but it doesn’t stick around too long or cut down quite to the bone. 

It usually, in Cody’s experience, is something that can be ignored, temporarily or not, with enough focus and discipline.

No, Cody does not want. He needs.

He raises his head from the tiles, closing his eyes as the water trickles in too-hot rivulets down his face.

Of course. Of course. He should have known, should have seen the signs… perhaps then, he could have done something to stop it.

Cody lets out a quiet, strangled groan. It echoes off of the tiles of the small shower back to him, sounding pitiful even to his own ears.

The truth of the matter burrows deep into Cody’s skin, settling into the home it’s long-since made for itself there, nestled tightly amongst the other secrets he harbours that are too shameful to ever speak aloud.

He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.

This is no longer just some passing infatuation.

He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Force.

This whole mission has been a cruel play by the Gods. By even stepping foot here, he’d opened the lid on something he could have gone the rest of his life ignoring, and Cody is afraid - no, terrified - that there’s no going back now.

Passion, desire, infatuation - he can deal with those. They’re to be expected for anyone, even someone of his station trying to navigate living through wartime. Love, on the other hand… 

… What the fuck does a clone do with love?

From the other room, he hears the front door of their room close, feels the slight shake of the walls. Obi-Wan has left, no doubt waking and deciding to pick them up breakfast like he did yesterday.

Slowly, Cody slides down the wall of the shower, sitting with his knees drawn to his chest and his gaze unfocused as the water pools around him.

His thoughts drift back to the words his Jedi had said to him two evenings ago, just before their kiss. 

‘This… isn’t ideal.’

No, General, Cody thinks to himself, more than a little miserably. He drags a hand over his face, doing his best to stop his teeth from grinding together in frustration. No, it is not.

______________________________

The effort required to pull himself together for the evening is gargantuan, but then again, the Commander has always thrived under impossible odds.

They’ve been trailing Barrek from afar since 9pm, waiting for him to make his way to the site of the deal, wherever it may be. It’s almost a relief when, at 9:25, he finally takes his leave from the resort’s main building and slips out into the night. 

“Showtime,” Obi-Wan murmurs, his eyes locked on the Rodian from their vantage point in the gardens. 

“So it seems. We should be careful.”

“Ah, but we’re simply two lovers going on a nighttime stroll,” the Jedi responds lightly, giving his companion a gentle, friendly nudge. “Nothing suspicious there.”

Cody isn’t certain he’s up for their usual banter tonight. 

Still, he forces on a small smile. It begrudgingly becomes genuine when he takes in Obi-Wan’s expression. 

“You’re sure you’re alright, Cody?” he asks quietly, worried eyes searching Cody’s.

Obi-Wan had noticed his distraction earlier - of course he had. Cody had told him, not entirely incorrectly, that he was simply feeling a little ill.

A mistake, he immediately realised, as that meant that he’d been unable to avoid the Jedi’s fussing for the rest of the day.

A situation that had, unfortunately, not helped Cody’s heart after his earlier discovery. If he had to feel the gentle press of the back of the other man’s hand upon his forehead one more time…

Cody sees the familiar concern in his friend’s eyes, and nods. 

“Can’t be too wrong by your side, sir,” he murmurs, a little more truth in the statement than he imagines Obi-Wan will ever know.

The Jedi’s expression softens further, and he reaches out a hand to squeeze Cody’s shoulder, sparing a quick glance over to Barrek’s retreating form in the distance. “Good. Let us go save the Galaxy once again, then, Commander,” he murmurs, smiling gently.

Cody allows himself a quiet chuckle, even as his stomach does a somersault at the gesture. “It does seem to fall on us often, that.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkle in a combination of fondness and amusement that he seems to only reserve for those quiet, between-mission conversations.

“Then it’s a good thing we’re always fit to answer the call, I suppose.”

It begins to rain a little ways into their excursion, the two pulling the hoods of their cloaks up as they follow Barrek from a safe distance. 

He’s jumpy - though for good reason, Cody thinks, considering he’s being tailed - repeatedly checking over his shoulder and keeping a twitchy hand on the blaster at his side.

Rodians have considerably better night vision than humans, so Obi-Wan is sure to breathe a soft word of warning for them duck out of sight each time he senses the other man is about to turn. 

Cody silently gestures for the two of them to take a path up the side of a nearby cliff as they see Barrek wander down to the shoreline of one of the many nearby beaches - less chance to intervene, perhaps, but a better, more secure vantage point.

The wind rushes past them as they find a place to properly set up, their cloaks billowing out behind them as the waves crash against the shore below. Cody frowns as he removes the blaster clipped to his back, fully extending it out to become a sniper rifle.

Yesterday he had been out of his element, but this is his arena. He's run countless stakeouts before, and the Commander is confident that today’s won't be particularly more difficult than any other.

“Wind’s in a bad direction, gonna affect my aim,” he gripes, glancing down to where Barrek is waiting around on the beach with his hands stuffed in his pockets. They have time, but the others will be arriving any moment. “Stand there,” he orders.

Obi-Wan raises a brow, though he steps over to where Cody had pointed without question. 

“And kneel,” the Commander directs firmly, his focus dedicated to fiddling with the scope. 

He belatedly realises that that is perhaps an incredibly inappropriate request to make of your commanding officer when he glances up to see Obi-Wan, wide eyed and a little red in the face.

Before he can open his mouth to apologise, rectify the situation, Obi-Wan nods, clearing his throat quietly. He arranges the cloak below him, settling himself down on the damp grass below.

Usually, the Jedi would make a joke out of the whole thing, or gently needle Cody for making such an order. For whatever reason, though, he stays quiet.

“Might I ask why…?” he eventually responds. Cody could swear his voice comes out a little strained, though he quickly dismisses the thought.

“Didn’t bring a stabiliser,” Cody answers with an apologetic smile, crouching in front of Obi-Wan and setting the body of the rifle down on the Jedi's shoulder, checking the scope and adjusting it minutely.

Cody tries not to think too hard about the way Obi-Wan's gaze burns into him as he hovers just over the other man, face to face and barely inches away between the cold metal of the blaster.

… But now is not the time for such distractions.

His attention zeroes in on the task at hand, the importance of it all providing a welcome reprieve from the pressure of being so close to his friend.

“... Slightly to the left,” he murmurs, and Obi-Wan dutifully shuffles himself over bit by bit until Cody, keeping close, breathes a quiet ‘stop’.

A few moments pass while he fixes the focus, feeling how tense the Jedi is.

“You can breathe, you know,” Cody says, unable to hide the amusement that slips into his teasing tone. “This is just a glorified telescope, I don’t need it steady enough to take a shot.” 

It takes Obi-Wan a long beat to respond.

“... Right. Of course,” he says, letting out a quiet, shaky-sounding exhale. Cody frowns in worry, nearly commenting on how strange his General is being, but his attention is drawn first by three more figures moving into the scope.

“It’s starting,” he whispers, pulling back briefly to meet the Jedi’s gaze. “Tell me anything you sense.”

Obi-Wan nods, his eyes fluttering closed in that peaceful way that tells Cody he’s reaching out to the Force. “I will. Tell me anything you see,” he requests in return. 

“I will.”

The General and Commander fall quiet as they settle in to work, their world narrowed down to the four people down on the quiet beach below.

The wind, though still strong, ceases its howling, as if holding its breath along with them.

It’s now or never, Cody thinks, watching as conversation on the beach begins. Time for them to save the Republic.

✷✷✷✷✷

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @mitth-eli-vanto

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

I've seen some people making some very good points about Vander and his role as a parent to Powder and Vi, especially related to criticisms about how he wasn't as stellar of a parent as the narrative portrays, specifically that he was emotionally neglectful, parentified Vi and failed to connect with Powder. While I think these points are worth discussing, I'd like to offer my own perspective.

Disclaimer: I am not justifying any behavior in the context of a real-life relationship, only within the narrative presented

First off, I don't disagree. Vander doesn't appear to have made a tremendous effort to connect with Powder, and seems to be much closer to Vi and Claggor than her and Mylo, putting a significant amount of responsibility on them (especially Vi, as the oldest) and Vi is definitely far more responsible for her siblings than she should be at her age, with Vander barely supervising them.

However, I think there's a lot of context people like to ignore. First off, this takes place in Zaun. From everything that's implied about Zaun, people don't typically live into old age. If they survive the street violence, enforcer violence, and unsafe working conditions, they're still likely to die or become incapacitated early as a result of Gray poisoning/horrific pollution, as we see with Viktor. Vander worked in the mines, which would make him even worse off.

It's common for average parents, who had their children in their mid-twenties to mid-thirties, to live to see their kids well into middle age, when they will be reliably established as adults and able to care for themselves without guidance. This privilege does not extend to Zaunites. As someone with older parents at birth, I know the importance of older siblings in that situation. Vander needed to prepare Vi and Claggor to be responsible for their siblings and guide them into adulthood, because he knew that he was unlikely to be able to do it himself.

Second, one of the big ethical issues with parentification is that you chose to have kids, and should not subject your older children to the consequences of your choice. Vander... Vander didn't choose to have kids, they're not his biological children, he took them off the street because they had nowhere else to go. I think in real world adoption, the principle still applies, because adoption is also a choice and a lengthy, procedurally dense one at that, but that's not the case here. It really wasn't a choice for Vander, these kids had nowhere else to go. And this is a common theme in Zaun, there are just feral children everywhere, and people just take them in because it's the right thing to do. Everyone is responsible for everyone else. So, his kids needed to learn that same principle, to be responsible for each other, to look out when they are able for those who can't.

And lastly, as for his overall lack of supervision of his ankle-biters, I think... I think that's just a Zaun thing. I'm always so bamboozled when I hear people compare THIS aspect of his parenting negatively to Silco's, when Silco didn't supervise Jinx either. He let her hang out on a giant fan blade like 60 feet in the air and wander off to explode shit whenever she wanted. Benzo also doesn't appear to supervise his very young child, who doesn't even have any older siblings to watch him, and neither Jinx nor Sevika feel the need to keep one single eye on Isha as she runs around the underground doing as she pleases. It seems to just be a part of Zaunite culture, people lose their parents and their parental figures all the time, so they need to be able to look out for themselves.

All this to say there are definitely things worth criticizing about Vander's parenting, but I feel like people are being a little unfair about it.