#In all seriousness though when are the elections in which you guys can like balance the power in the senate or congress or something along

[feysandfeels]

The international urge to tell the US-americans, GIRL GET UP OMG.

[astriiformes]

Minnesota is surprisingly left for a red state are they akso pro choice too

I definitely wouldn't describe Minnesota as a red state! I know people make the assumption sometimes given what much of the rest of the Midwest is like (including many of our immediate neighbors -- although I'd be remiss not to point out the many people striving to make it otherwise in all of them, particularly some of the hard-fought battles being slowly won in Wisconsin -- you go guys, and I know you can do it). But MN has other cultural influences like a long solid labor history and a large immigrant population that mean it's actually been a Democratic stronghold for a long time. We have the longest streak of voting blue in presidential elections of any state in the US!

Things do get much redder as you leave the Twin Cities metro area, though that's really the trend in any state. But for perspective, over half the state's population lives in the metro, so when you take into account that there are at least a few other blue clusters in the state (Duluth, a Great Lakes shipping town on Lake Superior with a long labor union history and that currently has a nonbinary representative in the MN House comes to mind!), we really are more of a blue state, or at least a very blueish-purple one. Right now our state Democrats (the Democratic-Farmer-Labor party) control the House, Senate, and Governor's office, which is the reason they've been getting so much good legislation passed. And while our national House reps are split half and half (though some of our Democratic reps are particularly progressive) both our Senators are Democrats.

I wouldn't oversell how blue we are, there are certain parts of state politics that are narrower and go back and forth a bit more than in some of the really "safe" blue states. But at the same time, after living here for a while, I really do think the flip side of that is that our Democratic politicians are somewhat more genuine about what they do, which ends up balancing certain things out. Hence the current legislative session where they're pushing through everything they can in remarkably quick succession!

To answer your question though -- yes, Minnesota is also a pretty pro-choice state. Our state House recently passed a bill that would limit the release of reproductive healthcare information, essentially protecting people from other states who come here for reproductive care. The bill is expected to pass in the Senate and be signed by the governor as well. Our governor and lieutenant governor have both been fairly outspoken about protecting reproductive and abortion rights in the state. Earlier this year the governer also signed into law the Protecting Reproductive Options (PRO) Act to explicitly protect and codify abortion rights here.

I hope some of that's useful information! Minnesota politics are definitely not what I expected when I moved here -- in my time living in the state I've had the opportunity to vote for one of the most progressive reps in the US Congress (Ilhan Omar) and been consistently impressed by how seriously our state takes things like voting rights and state welfare programs. There's a lot of really incredible political activism happening here and it's moving to be a part of -- especially since I know we're becoming even more of an important sanctuary state for people from other places in the Midwest. The northern Great Lakes states (thinking about MN, WI, and MI in particular) are all sort of interesting beasts politically and I'm grateful to have learned more about some of the strong Democratic and labor history in the region in my time here.

Ending with a terrible joke, but -- we have over 10,000 lakes, of course we're blue!

[dirtyoatmeall]

The ways I love you (Matsukawa x reader)

A/N: I love Mattsun so much. I think out of all the characters, he’s the one I’d most likely end up actually dating, not to mention time-skip mattsun is a whole nother conversation. anyway I hope you enjoy, I just really love him.

Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader (gn pronouns but references to reader being able to be pregnant)

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Mentions of 18+ activity as a joke, spoilers for s2 (spring preliminaries), me not proof reading, me not knowing how to describe coming down from your tiptoes

--

Matsukawa liked to think he was observant both on and off the volleyball court. But as he watches you laugh from afar, head thrown back, holding onto your friends shoulder for balance, he can’t help but think, how did he not notice you before? It was enough to stop him in his tracks, unconsciously tuning out the sounds around him, blatantly staring at you as you continue to talk to your friends, a wide grin on your face as you gesture wildly, pausing every so often to laugh at the story you were telling. It took Hanamaki walking in front of him, blocking his view of you, for him to come back to his senses. He heard Hanamaki calling his name, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Hey earth to Mattsun, you okay bro?” He nodded in response, still thinking about your laugh, he wanted to know what you were talking about. He wanted to know your name. Hanamaki turns to look at where Matsukawa was focused so intently on before, grin breaking out when he saw your group. “Ahh, so that’s what’s got your attention? And which one was so lucky to literally stop you in your tracks?” He rolled his eyes in response to Hanamaki’s teasing, when Iwaizumi appeared next to him, raising an eyebrow at Matsukawa. “What’re you talking about?” Hanamaki is happy to fill the spiker in, and Matsukawa returns his gaze to your group again, before furrowing his eyebrows.

He watched Oikawa saunter up to your group, he must have called your name since you turned to face him, eyebrow raised. The setter says something that causes you to roll your eyes, hands on your hips and you respond, teasing smile evident. In true Oikawa fashion, he responds by pouting dramatically before scanning the courtyard, face lighting up when he spots his group of friends. He grabs your wrist, you wave to your friends before following and Matsukawa’s eyes widen when he realizes Oikawa is bringing you over to them. Did Oikawa see him staring? Were you somehow dating the setter? Matsukawa wracks his brain for any memories on a new fling when you two finally reach the group.

“Iwa-chan! (Y/N)-chan still won’t agree to being the manager! Won’t you convince them?” Oikawa says dramatically, letting go of your wrist in favor of attempting to lean on Iwaizumi, who promptly shoves him off, rolling his eyes. “And why would I do that? I don’t want to subject them to dealing with you anymore than they have to already.” You laugh at Iwaizumi’s insult as Oikawa cries out in offense. (Y/N), Matsukawa repeats your name in his head, wanting to commit it to memory. Though all thoughts immediately halt at the sound of your voice.

“I never said I wouldn’t, I just asked how you were gonna make it worth my while?” Your voice had a teasing lilt to it as you raised your eyebrows in anticipation of the setters response. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes again, grumbling about you egging him on. Oikawa brightens up, a flirty smile adorned as he leans closer to you, eyebrows wiggling up and down. “I know exactly what can make it worth your while.” You throw your head back, loud cackles of laughter filling the air, Hanamaki and Matsukawa chuckle as Oikawa pouts, crossing his arms childishly. After a few moments your laughter dies down, you make a show of wiping tears from your eyes before smiling. “Alright, just because I’ll get to more chances to make fun of you, I’ll do it.” Oikawa seems to ponder being excited or offended by your agreement, choosing the former and hugging you while Iwaizumi pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Thankfully Hanamaki says what was on both of their minds.

“Soo, are you guys like dating or something?” He tries to be casual, eyebrow raised when Iwaizumi snorts, “I can tell you there is no chance of that happening, ever.” Oikawa sputters as you nod, nose scrunched in disgust.

“Let me put it this way,” you pause, thinking before your lips raise into a sly grin. “I would rather be spit roasted by the coaches of Shiratorizawa and Nekoma before I’d hold hands with Tooru romantically.”

Oikawa jaw drops as the rest of them crack up at your words. “(Y/N)-chan! You have to be spending too much time with Iwa, you didn’t used to be this mean!” You roll your eyes playfully before turning to the duo to clarify.

“In all seriousness, I used to live in the same neighborhood as Tooru and Iwa when we were kids, we went to school together up until middle school, when I moved to Fukushima, but I’m back now! And I gotta make up for all the time I missed preventing him from getting a big head, obviously Iwa hasn’t been doing his job.” Said ace narrows his eyes at you, grumbling before Oikawa cuts him off. “It was horrible not having you here (Y/N)-chan! We’re never going to let you leave again!” You smile softly at his admission, and Matsukawa wonders if he’s sick, why else would he be sweating in the middle of November?

--

Months later Matsukawa realizes that he wasn’t sick on that chilly November day in his first year, he was, much like now, infatuated with you. While he wasn’t sure exactly what his feelings for you were, he knew he had it bad. Ever since he noticed you, he started seeing you everywhere. In the hallway, when he was glancing out the window during class, anywhere he was, his eyes always found their way to your form. It didn’t help that Oikawa stuck to his promise, and you became an integral part of their group. He was seeing you at all times of day, even when he closed his eyes at night, images of you, laughing and smiling softly, danced behind his eyelids.

And of course, it did not go unnoticed. Hanamaki was, unsurprisingly, the first to find out. Now whenever he caught Matsukawa staring at you, he’d grin amusedly at the middle blocker, wiggling his eyebrows. Iwaizumi was even seeming to catch on, a knowing look on his face, small grin present whenever Matsukawa would flush slightly after contact with you, whether it was a seemingly innocent hug between friends, or you hanging off his arm dramatically while teasing Oikawa. Speaking of the setter, he was, without a doubt, the last person Matsukawa wanted to find out about his, whatever they are, feelings for you.  But he hid it well, only a few moments of weakness compared to all the other times he kept it together around you, however hard it was.

--

It was in his third year that Matsukawa was able to name his feelings for you, love. Love in the way his heart skips a beat whenever you laugh, in the way his hand twitches to lace his fingers through yours, in the way he can’t imagine not seeing you every day, in the way he fantasizes about a life with you; seeing you first thing in the morning, slow dancing in the kitchen to a song no one can hear but you two. He no longer hid it well, openly gazing at you with a fondness anyone could see was only for you. It seemed the whole world knew of his feelings, except you.

Oikawa found out about 6 months after you returned, the setter vowing to keep it a secret, saying something about letting fate bring the two of you together. Matsukawa no longer tried to hide it, though he wasn’t going to confess anytime soon, he wasn’t above shameless flirting, lingering touches pairing with his love-stricken gaze. Either you were the most oblivious person ever, or you knew but elected to stay silent. He wasn’t sure which he preferred.

It all came to a head the day they lost their chance at nationals.

The loss to Karasuno was hard on everyone, the third years especially. After Coach Irihata talked to the players, you step forward, getting their attention. Unshed tears shining in your eyes you smile sadly at the team. “I’m not a coach, and obviously not a player, so I know my words don’t hold as much value as they would if I was. But I don’t care. I am so proud of all of you. You worked so hard to get here, and even though the outcome wasn’t what we hoped for, I don’t want anyone blaming themselves, not a single one of you. You gave it your all, and I want you to be proud of that. I’m obviously not planning on being a motivational speaker after we graduate, but you get the idea.” A few of the players chucked, and more of them looked tearful than when you started.

For a moment you worry your words did more harm than good, until Iwaizumi steps forward, enveloping you in a hug. You let out a strangled cry/laugh when Oikawa follows his lead, the other third years joining and eventually the whole team, and you smile despite the tears running hotly down your cheeks. Over the 3 years you’ve been manager you have come to love and be loved by the team. As the group hug disperses to pack up for the bus ride home, you and the other third years linger, sharing bittersweet smiles.

The bus ride home is silent. The loss having drained the energy from the team, as many of the players are sleeping. You sit next to Matsukawa, head resting on his shoulder. As you start to drift off you slip your hand into his, sighing contentedly before succumbing to sleep. He looks down at your sleeping form, squeezing your hand as he smiles sadly. The day before he had briefly entertained the idea of confessing if they win nationals, but now, especially after your speech, he knows he can’t wait.

He gently shakes you awake when the bus arrives at the school, his heart stutters when you blearily look up at him, a tired smile gracing your features. He doesn’t let go of your hand when the two of you disembark, the first years telling you to go home when you try to help put stuff away. You tear up again, in appreciation for your underclassmen, looking up when Matsukawa squeezes your conjoined hands. He smiles and tugs you along, waving goodbye to the team before the two of you join Hanamaki and walk to the train station.

The train ride is peaceful, Hanamaki and Matsukawa talking quietly while you resume your place next to the latter, leaning into his side. You wave when Hanamaki gets off, and you sit in comfortable silence until your stop comes up. You look at Matsukawa, confused, when he gets off the train with you, He tugs you forward. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.” You try to ignore the butterflies in your gut and the heat in your face as you nod.

A few blocks from your house he stops under a streetlight, gently pulling you in front of him. Your eyebrows furrow as you search his face for any tell for his actions. You don’t know what to make of what you find instead, blush deepening when he takes a step closer and cups your cheek with the hand not occupied with your own. “(Y/N),” He sighs, and you think it sounds the prettiest when it comes from his lips. “Originally I wasn’t planning on ever telling you, and I thought about doing it at nationals,” He pauses, and you nuzzle into his hand, shifting your other hand to intertwine with his, a quick squeeze urges him to continue. “but since that’s not going to happen, now seems as good a time as any.” He takes a deep breath, taking another step forward, now toe to toe with you.

“I’m in love with you, have been for who knows how long. Well, I guess I do.” He huffed a laugh, “Probably since first year honestly. I remember the first time I saw you, I literally stopped in my tracks you were so beautiful. God, I sound so lame.” You laugh with him this time, tightening your grip on his hand. He clears his throat before continuing. “I know we haven’t really discussed our plans after graduation, but I wanted you to know, just in case there was some possibility. And when I say I love you, I mean it. I love you in the wake up next to you every morning and make you breakfast kinda way. The buy a cat together kinda way. And I understand if you don’t feel the same, I don’t want you to feel pressured, I just couldn’t not tell you, ya know? I think it would eat at me for the rest of my life if I didn’t.” He wasn’t looking at you anymore, choosing to look at your joined hands instead. Your free hand comes up to cover the one on your cheek, and he looks up to meet your gaze.

He wasn’t expecting the shine of unshed tears or the tender look on your face. You smile, and his heart does the little back flip it does whenever you direct one at him, but there’s something different about this smile, it holds unspoken promises behind it, ones he wants so desperately to hear come tumbling from your lips. “Issei,” You breath, and he shudders slightly hearing you say his name with so much emotion. “I love you too. I love you in the wake up next to you every morning smiling even though you have the worst morning breath,” He snorts and your smile grows as you continue, “I love you in the adopting two cats together kinda way, because we didn’t want it to be lonely when we’re away. I have loved you since the day you told Tooru you were my baby daddy,” You laughed brightly as you recall the memory, the horror on Oikawa’s face when Matsukawa went along with the prank.

“You fell into the role so effortlessly, and yet I never regretted a prank more, because after feeling you pull me against your chest, wrapping an arm around my waist for the day, I was hooked. Constantly thinking of ways I could touch you again.” Your face was a deeper shade of pink, bordering on red, and Matsukawa smiled as he recalled the memory, and how you were more touchy afterwards.

You turn your head, softly kissing the palm of his hand, eyelashes tickling his fingers. Your hand moves to lightly grasp his wrist when his hand moves to your neck, resting on the side for a moment before cupping the back of your head as he leaned down slowly, committing the sight of you; eyes fluttered closed, lips slightly parted, to memory. Impatient, you push yourself upward on your toes, closing the small space between you as your lips finally meet.

You untangle your hand from his, moving to bring both upwards, over his chest and around his neck as you tilt your head slightly, deepening the kiss. His hand tangles into your hair and his other hand moves to settle on the small of your back, bringing you closer as your lips move against each other slowly, pouring years of love and pining into the kiss, savoring the feel of the other. After what feels like forever, you part, panting slightly, out of breath. You rest your weight back on the balls of your feet, smiling as Matsukawa follows you, bending down to rest his forehead against yours. You close your eyes for a moment, processing what just happened, and what it means for the future.

You open your eyes as he kisses you again, this time shorter, but no less sweet. You have a dopey smile on your face when he pulls away, standing to his full height. He untangles his hand from your hair, running his fingers through it for good measure and takes your hand, which had fallen back to your sides, before nodding in the direction of your house. “C’mon, I said I’d walk you home, and we’ll be here all night if we have it your way.” He teases at the pout on your features when he pulls you along the street. 

You turn to him once you reach your steps, hesitant to leave. His hand cups your cheek again, directing your attention back to his face. “Hey, what’s wrong? You look like I’m gonna disappear if you leave.” You bite your lip slightly instead of answering, though he can see it in your eyes. He smiles softly and pulls you into a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise. I’m not going to miss out on a chance to rub it in Makki’s face that I got a girlfriend before him.” You laugh lightly into his chest, heart swelling at the word. You breath in the scent of his cologne, squeezing your interlaced hands before stepping back,

“Okay, tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grins at the obvious reluctance present on your features. He lands a quick peck on your cheek, ruffling your hair. He waits until you close the door behind you before leaving. He checks his phone as he walks, cursing as he realizes he only has a few minutes until the last train of the night departs.

[connordavidscamera]

Living, Learning, and Filming Ch. 3 | Connor Brashier

A/n: one again, revised/rewritten. I remember loving this chapter a lot when I first wrote it, so I hope you guys like it too.

Summary: Someone’s falling…

Warnings: kinda fluffy

Word count: 2.2k

***

Week 2

“You want to pick the music?” I ask, handing her my phone.

“Oh, sure.” She scrolls through my Spotify for a minute until she comes across a song she likes. 

“So, what were you and Shawn talking about?” I rest my arm on the center console, hand up, silently asking for hers, but she doesn’t place hers in mine. I leave my hand there anyway, just in case. 

“Um, nothing much.”

“No? Seemed like something important.”

“He just um… asked me on a date.” Y/n says when we reach a stop light and I slam on the brakes a little harder than intended.

“He did what?” I glance over at her, but she won’t look at me. “Y/n,” I say, trying to get her to say something, anything.

“He asked me out,” she says again, her voice small. 

“And?” I prompt. “What’d you say?” I can see that she’s hesitant to respond, and just by that alone, I’m not sure I want to know the answer. “No, nevermind,” I say, looking forward just as the light changes. “It’s your business.”

We’re silent the rest of the way back to campus. When I park, I turn the car off and she looks at me for the first time the whole ride. “What are you doing?”

“Walking you to your dorm. It’s late, you don’t need to be walking out here alone.”

“There’s no one out.”

“It’ll just make me feel better knowing you got to your dorm. Okay?” I say, staring at her through my hooded eyes. 

“Okay.” She takes her bag from the floor board and opens the door. I wait for her at the hood of the car and without asking, I take her hand. I don’t care if she said yes to Shawn or not. I want to hold her hand, and as long as she’s okay with it, I’m going to hold it because her skin is so soft against mine and I love the feeling. Thunder sounds and lightning cracks against the pitch black sky and she jumps just a little at the unexpected sound. 

“Guess it’s gonna rain,” I say and she nods, leading us to her building. 

“Yeah,” she answers and just as she says it, the first raindrop falls, followed by a heavy shower. She squeals and I can’t help but chuckle as she hurriedly leads me to the main door and she struggles to enter her code with just one hand, but she never lets go, and neither do I. She finally gets it in after three failed attempts, but we’re both soaked through by the time we get inside, you can hear only the squeaking of our shoes on the linoleum floor and the soft squishing of our feet in the damp shoes. I can’t help but laugh when she almost trips trying to get up the stairs, but I’m quick to catch her and keep us both from tumbling. 

“Come inside?” she asks when she gets her door unlocked. 

“I really should get back.”

“Stay,” she says, begs, really. “At least until the rain lets up. I’d feel better about it. Please?”

And when she gives me those eyes, the ones that hold nothing but sincerity, who am I to deny her anything she wants from me. “Okay,” I nod. “Just until the rain stops.”

Her room is warm compared to the hallway, and the drastic change in temperature causes a shiver to run up my spine. Almost immediately after putting her bag on the desk, she goes to her closet and grabs some clothes. Two hoodies that look like they absolutely swallow her up, and then she goes to her drawers where I watch her pull out a pair of leggings. “You can pick either one of these,” she says, laying the hoodies at the foot of the bed. “They’re my dad’s, so they should fit.”

“Thanks,” I mutter as she disappears into the bathroom. She comes back a second later with a towel. 

“Here, so you can dry yourself off.”

“Oh, thank you.” I take the towel from her hands and she smiles sheepishly at me. 

“Um, I’m gonna shower really quick. Will you be okay out here?”

I nod with a smug smile on my face, “I’ve been left alone before, y/n.”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, smartass. I’ll be fast. Make yourself comfortable. There’s drinks in the fridge, and snacks in the pantry if you’re hungry.” she pulls out a shirt from her top drawer and once again disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

After drying my hair - or attempting to, at least, I pull off my shirt which has been clinging to my body since we got inside. I pull her dad’s sweatshirt over my head and try to pat my jeans dry. They aren’t clinging to me quite as much as you would think they would, but they’re definitely leaving me a little chilly. 

The stack of books by her bed catches my eye when I fold the towel over her desk chair. The stack is as tall as her nightstand. I don’t know anyone who has ever brought this many books to school with them. That just means you have more to take back and unload when you leave and return to campus.

I hear the door handle click and I know she’s behind me. “Find anything interesting?”

“Did you bring all these?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I bought most of them since I’ve been here. There’s this really cute bookshop downtown. Seriously, it has a great selection. I go whenever I can get away from my homework.”

“So it’s a leisure thing,” I muse.

“Of course. What else would it be?” I smile as I watch her reach for her brush and sit cross legged on her bed. “Why are you staring at me like that?” she asks, looking up at me from where I stand near her tower of books. 

“What else don’t I know about you?”

“Quite a bit, pretty boy. What do you want to know?”

"I want to know everything." I say, electing to ignore the fact that she just called me pretty boy, even though it makes me feel all types of giddy inside. Giddy, what a stupid word coming from me.

We talk for hours about… well literally everything. I don’t even realize that it’s nearing two in the morning until I check my phone to see that Brian texted me three hours ago asking where I was. “I should get going,”  I whisper into her hair, taking in the scent of her shampoo, memorizing her scent. It's intoxicating. 

She’s dozing off on my shoulder and I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be at this moment than right here. Seriously, a blinding flash of light could swallow the world whole at this very moment and I wouldn’t mind because I would die with her in my arms.

“No,” her arm wraps around my waist. “Warmth. Stay.”

“Y/n, it’s late," I try.

“All the more reason to stay. Please?” she groans, basically crawling on top of me. 

I sigh in content because I had no idea her body could feel so comforting on mine. “Okay. But I have to go first thing in the morning,” I say, but I barely believe it myself because as long as she’ll have me, I’ll stay. 

“Fine,” she agrees.

We’re quiet for a minute before she mumbles my name and oh wow it sounds like heaven. “Connor?”

“What’s going on, baby?”

“I said no.”

“Hmm?” I furrow my eyebrows, looking down at her.

“To Shawn. I said no.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Because if I’m going to get to know someone like that, I want it to be you.”

“Wait, what?” I wait a beat for her to respond, but she doesn’t. “Y/n?”

She stirs, pulling at the covers and when I look down, I know she’s asleep, her eyes moving behind her eyelids as she dreams those sweet dreams that I could only wish on her. Those sweet dreams I can only wish to be in.

---

I stumble into the apartment as quietly as I can the next morning because I know Brian is asleep; he doesn’t have class until noon, that lucky bastard. 

“And where have you been all night?”

I jump, dropping my phone on the ground. “Shit! Shawn what are you doing on the couch?”

“Spent the night. What happened? I thought you just went to take y/n back to her dorm.”

“Yeah,” I scratch the back of my neck, “I did. But it started raining pretty hard, so she told me to stay until the rain let up. It just got super late and I uh… stayed the night with her. No big deal.”

He nods. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I say, grabbing my phone. 

“What’s going on between you two? I mean, I kinda picked up on something last night, but-”

“Well if you picked up on it, then why did you ask her out?” I know it comes out kind of hostile, but I can’t help it. 

“Whoa,” he puts his hands up in surrender. “Look, I didn’t mean to step on your toes. I think it’s great that you’ve found someone you like. I just wasn't sure if it was serious."

I didn't think it was either, but I'm seriously falling for this girl and it hasn't even been three weeks yet. “It’s not. Yet.”

---

Week 3

I’m falling. I’m falling and I’m falling hard and it’s going to hurt like hell when I land. Because neither of us have spoken about what she said the other night. In fact, we haven’t spoken about the other night at all. And I don’t think either of us intend to. 

“Y/n, come here.” I usher her over to the tree in front of me, with its multicolored leaves that in this early autumn season are starting to fall, just like me. 

“Hmm?” she shows up behind me, chin resting on my shoulder

“Can you stand here for a minute?”

“Okay. Any specific way?”

“Nope, just stand there and look pretty.”

She groans, but slips from behind me and leans against the tree. “But that’s hard.”

I’m already filming when she says it. “What’s hard, y/n/n?”

“Standing and looking pretty,” she sighs dramatically. 

I shake my head, starting to walk around the tree. “You’re doing a damn good job of it right now,” I say as I round the corner. 

She covers her face, letting out a soft laugh. “Stop it!”

“Stop what?” I ask with an amused smile. 

“Saying things like that,” she mumbles, pushing her hair out of her face. 

“Why? You gonna kiss me if I don’t?”

She hums and pushes herself off the tree. She waits until she’s out of frame, until her body is pressed impossibly close to mine, before she speaks. “If kissing you is the only way to get you to shut up, then yeah,” she whispers into my ear and I think I lose balance for a second. Her lips press gently onto my cheek and I know I’m a thousand shades of red when she pulls away.

I want to lean in, so badly I want to. Because she’s here and she’s so close and it would be so easy to just capture her lips right here, right now… But it’s not time. No matter how badly I want it, I can’t give into these feelings just yet, not until I know for sure that she feels the same.

Sure, she’s given me signs that she wants me too, but how do I know it’s not still just a game to her? I started it, but y/n’s the type of person to end it. 

And thinking this actually makes me believe that I don’t care. That even if this is a game, I want nothing more than to get my heart broken by her if that’s the case. It would be a privilege. 

“Con? You’re staring.”

“I know,” I say, my eyes focused on her lips.

“It’s making me nervous,” she says quietly.

“Y/n?”

“What?” She questions, her eyes trailing down to my lips too. I can’t help but wonder if she wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss her. 

I take in a breath, “We should go get something to eat,” I say and I hate myself for it. In my mind, I’m punching myself in the face right now. “I’m starving.”

She pulls away from me, looking down at the ground. “Oh. Yeah, okay. Sure.”

I don’t know if I’m imagining it because I want it to be true, but I swear I see  disappointment in her eyes as she gathers her things. 

“Hey, are you okay?” I take her by the elbow before she can walk ahead of me.

She shrugs me off and I think I can physically feel my heart breaking at the subtle movement. “Yep. I’m fine.”

“Y/n?”

“Come on, Brashier. You’re hungry, right?” She starts walking forward, but I hurriedly get in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

“Wait, y/n. What happened?”

“Do you want to kiss me, Connor?”

“Well, I-”

“It’s a yes or no question. Do you or don’t you?”

***

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[angst-fairygodmother]

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER TWO: FRIENDSHIP

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x Reader Word Count: 2839 Rating: T - racism, references to the plot of Bad Samaritan, mild language A/N: I’m trying to balance covering a lot of time so that this doesn’t end up 20 chapters of the same thing and I never get to canon events and also getting some good, specific moments in, so hopefully this works...

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Time passed. You found yourself settling into a surprisingly easy friendship with Derek, though not one without it’s frustrations, and certainly not one that looked like friendship at all from the outside looking in. On more than one occasion, Sean had poked fun at each of you, though never in front of the other so they were aware, calling you out for flirting and playing hard to get. 

You hated him for being right and refused to admit that it was what you were doing. Your stupid schoolgirl crush on your cousin’s best friend wasn’t something you wanted to acknowledge.

~

Nino’s had been abuzz for weeks with the news that the restaurant had been booked out for a re-election campaign event for the mayor of Portland, and now that the night had arrived, excitement had turned to panic. Nino had fretted constantly about every detail, from the amount of food and wine available to their arrangements on the plates. He had forgone setting up a buffet table for the cocktail and hor d'oeuvres hour in favor of what he thought was the much more high-end system of servers circulating with trays. And now two of the servers had, at the last minute, called in sick. 

“There are not enough people!” Nino was exclaiming. “But I cannot set out a table now! We would have to rearrange the whole room!”

You had only just arrived, stepping into the chaos from the street like passing through an invisible barrier. One that at least part of you wanted to turn around and cross back over again. 

“You need servers more than valets tonight, why not ask those two boys to help?” one of the kitchen staff suggested.

“That’s really not how their contract works,” you muttered, even though you knew it didn’t really matter in the end.

Nino looked thoughtful and turned to you. “Do you think they’d do it?”

Sean and Derek weren’t even there yet, and wouldn’t be until almost opening, so it would be a gamble, unless Nino could get them to pick up the phone. Plus they didn’t have appropriate service uniforms to your knowledge. Which meant that Nino had to either change everyone’s outfits or hope he had spares somewhere in the restaurant. Not to mention, there was no guarantee they’d even be willing, and since they were hired as valets (technically Nino’s had an account with their business, but since it was the only one so far and they didn’t really seem to be actively searching for more, he may as well have hired them directly), they weren’t obligated to do anything other than park and retrieve cars.

You sighed. The only problem with working with family was that you were expected to be able to know Sean’s thoughts on things, as if you were some kind of mind reader or expert.

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “But they both have a lot of respect for you, so it can’t hurt to ask.” 

That was a lie. It could hurt. Saying no would make things awkward, saying yes would cost them a night of tips and...extracurriculars which you chose to actively not acknowledge. But the latter was probably best, since pulling their usual tricks on the mayor, his donors, and his powerful friends would be asking to get caught and spend the rest of their lives in prison.

“Great!” Nino hurried off to the phone as if you had said they would help without a doubt.

~

“Where is your tie?” Nino asked, gesturing, appalled, at Derek’s bare collar. “I told them to find you a tie. You’re not dressed properly. I can’t let you be seen like that!”

The whole staff was gathered around in the lobby for some sort of pep-talk/debrief and assignments before the doors opened for the big event. Nino was checking every detail like a hawk, jittery with nerves. The kitchen guys were anxious, not sure why they’d been dragged from their stations to the front of house, acting like a crowd of kids that got called to the principal’s office. Everyone else was casual, mostly gossiping over who they thought would be there, hoping for a political scandal to break before their eyes. 

Derek held up a length of black silk. “You got any of them clip-on kind? I’ve never worn one before, so I don’t know what I’m doin.”

Nino sputtered. You rolled your eyes, stepping up beside him.

“I’ll take care of this, Nino,” you offered, gesturing at Derek’s entire self, and he had the nerve to look offended.

He nodded, turning away in a hurry, radiating nervous energy, looking for the next crisis. Finding none, he started in on his speech about how tonight was the most important night in the restaurant’s history, how he was proud to have such a dedicated staff. Then he dismissed everyone, listing off assignments as they scattered. You half listened, turning to deal with the problem of Derek’s tie. 

“Hey, thanks,” Derek said quietly, offering you a half smile.

“I’m not doing it for you,” you answered. “Nino’s a better boss than most are ever lucky enough to have. It’d be a damn shame for him to drop of an aneurysm because you don’t know how to dress yourself.”

“Sure,” he chuckled. “Well I guess that means I’m in your hands.”

You smirked at the idea, ignoring Sean’s waggled eyebrow out of your peripheral. Derek noticed, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“You’ve seriously never worn a tie before?” you asked, taking the garment from him.

“No. Why would I? I don’t exactly get invited to the kind of places you need one.”

“Right…” you sighed, stepping closer, throwing the material over your shoulder to free your hands. “Step one is fully close your dress shirt.”

Your fingers darted nimbly, closing the tiny white buttons, ghosting over his throat and making him swallow nervously. 

You continued to describe each step as you took it, looping the tie around his neck, trying to teach him what to do. But he couldn’t focus on your words, not with you standing so close that he could feel the heat radiating between your bodies. 

“And voila. Tie tied. And if someone really wanted to, you have an easy way of killing you around your neck for fashion,” you joked, brushing the fabric smooth. Your hand lingered against his chest for a moment, for reasons you couldn’t explain, before you stepped back.

Silence hung in the air.

“So I’m all set then?” he asked finally, blinking as if coming out of a daze.

“You’ve got to button your vest too, but I assume you can figure that one out for yourself.”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled, beaming at you. “I’ll give it a try.”

You laughed along with him, trying not to think about how handsome he looked, dressed up like this. Not that he wasn’t handsome all the time, even in baggy jeans and a hoodie, but the formal black and white uniform suited him. You frowned, annoyed with yourself for letting your thoughts stray down that path. 

He finished buttoning the garment and spread his arms, gesturing to himself. “How do I look? Pretty good right?”

“Not bad,” you said with a smirk and an effort to keep your voice casual. “Someone nicer might even say you clean up good.”

Suddenly his arm was around your shoulders and he leaned in to your side with a charming smirk of his own.

“Maybe they would, but you know I’ll take a ‘not bad’ from you over that any day,” he said with a laugh.

Before you could respond, he sauntered off, leaving you to glare and gape at his retreating back.

~

Derek couldn’t help himself. He was supposed to be walking around the room with this tray of shrimp puffs - or whatever rich people food Nino had assigned him, he was pretty sure it was shrimp puffs - and offering them to the guests. Instead, he was just standing in one spot, tray held out absently and teetering every time someone brushed past him, watching Y/N. She wove effortlessly through the clusters of men in pressed suits and women in silk dresses that rustled when they moved, smiling easily at them as she offered them champagne or wine. Even from a distance he could see the sparkle in her eye that made each person she spoke to feel like they were special, and as a result scored her numerous ones and fives left behind on her tray when they picked up a glass. His fingers itched to brush aside the piece of her hair that escaped its updo and danced across her temple, tucking it back into place behind her ear. 

He felt a quick flash of guilt as he traced the shape of her body in her uniform, the black vest hugging every line and curve. He shouldn’t be staring, he thought. After all, she was Sean’s cousin and Sean was his best friend. And she was a friend, these days; you don't ogle your friends. But damn if she wasn’t hot, if he didn’t want her. His mind wandered, and he was just starting to imagine what her lips on his might feel like, what she might taste like - she had smelled like apple pie earlier when she was standing so close to him, when he’d been too chicken to make a move while he had the chance, and part of him hoped kissing her would taste like it too - when fingers, covered in too many rings and jingling from the stack of bracelets on the attached wrist, snapped in front of his face, startling him and dragging him back to reality.

“Are you even listening to me?” the woman demanded before raising her voice and slowing her words, over-enunciating each syllable. “I said I want your vegetarian option.”

“Uh. All I got are these shrimp things,” said lamely. “But my buddy Sean is around here with some mushrooms, I think. With like spinach stuff inside?” 

She huffed, glaring and waiting and not saying anything. 

“I'm sorry. I'm not—” 

“Very intelligent. I can tell. I want you to bring me a plate with vegetarian appetizers. That means no meat. Nothing that was alive. And I want a selection, not just dumping all the same thing in a pile.” 

As her voice got louder and her words even slower, it started drawing stares from the rest of the guests. He bristled at her tone, feeling his neck get hot as embarrassment and anger mingled. He knew why she was speaking to him like that. She wasn't the first.

He took a slow, deep breath. Getting angry would just play into her hand and make things worse. Before he could say anything, like maybe some remark about how plants used to be alive too, they just never had faces, Y/N appeared at his elbow.

“Derek! There you are, I've been looking everywhere,” she exclaimed.

He raised an eyebrow, silently asking what she was up to, and tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in his stomach at the idea she’d been looking for him.

“Nino said there was a problem, with the...thing and unless we want the guests to just be eating tiny hors d'oeuvres all night, you have to go talk the chef down from quitting over it.”

“What?” his face scrunched in confusion as he turned to Y/N.

She rolled her eyes (he kind of loved how often she did that) and plucked the tray out of his hand smoothly, fingers brushing briefly against his, sparking under his skin like a hotwiring a car. 

“The thing. In the kitchen,” she said pointedly, like it meant anything. Then she turned to the woman, the largest, fakest smile he had ever seen on her face.

“Right...I’ll uh...get right on that…” he said helplessly. 

“Sorry about that ma’am,” she lied to the woman, voice sickly sweet as she led the woman off. “He’s a culinary genius, but Nino likes to shake things up and keep the staff on their toes.”

“Oh,” the woman said, seeming surprised by the shift. “I just assumed...because he was one of them.”

“One of who?” Y/N asked, feigning confusion now though he could see that her eyes were hard and ice cold. Her smile took on a knife-sharp edge and he found himself grateful that it wasn’t being turned on him.

“Well. You know…”

“I’m sure I don’t. Because I can only think of one thing you might be trying to say. And I know you wouldn’t be so blatantly racist,” her voice got just a little louder, pitched toward the people around them, not the woman she was talking to, “at an important event like this. Would you?”

Derek chuckled and tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants, making his way to the kitchen. It might have been a fake reason, but he figured he may as well take the few minutes break it gave him anyway.

~

“Hey,” you said, dropping into a chair next to Derek, finally catching a short rest while the guests transitioned from one part of the evening to the next and found their seats for speeches and dinner. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah,” he said quickly, pretending that he had just been zoned out in order to cover for the fact that he was staring, again. “Just exhausted. Is this what it’s like for you every day?”

You chuckled. “It’s not usually quite this intense when we just have a few tables each to focus on. I think serving tables in a bit will be a better idea of that. But I meant about...you know...earlier.”

He made a face of confusion.

“The hag with the cheap perfume and the stupid attitude?” you offered.

“Oh that,” he shrugged. “I’m used to it. She was pretty tame, compared to some.”

“You know that’s the opposite of reassuring right? And not really an answer to the question.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly. “Probably for the best. She’s probably a senator or their wife or something, and something tells me bitchslapping a public figure is a negative on the Character and Fitness review.” 

You scratched the back of your head in a(n adorably) sheepish gesture.

“The what?”

“The thing where I spend all this time on a degree, and in the end it all comes down to one insane bullshit test and a review of my personal history. And a bunch of stuffy old men, and women these days, decide if I’m an acceptable fit for the esteemed legal profession.”

“Legal...I didn’t know you were trying to be a lawyer?!”

“Duh,” you rolled your eyes and dropped your voice. “Why do you think I keep telling you and Sean not to get caught yet. I’m useless to you for another year, at least.”

“You didn’t have to step in like that,” he said after a long pause. “I could have handled it.”

“I didn’t think you couldn’t.”

“Then why’d you get involved?”

“Just because you can handle it, doesn’t mean you should have to,” you shrugged. “I could tell you were uncomfortable. I thought I could help.” 

You let your thoughts race. Had you done something wrong in trying to divert the conversation and give him an out? Did you accidentally make things worse? Was there something else you should have done instead?

“I’m not mad,” he said reassuringly, noticing the nearly panicked expression that danced across your face. “I just don’t usually get people doing that for me.”

“Well, what else are friends for?”

There was the at word again, he thought. The thing he didn’t want to destroy, but that stood unnavigable between you. He didn’t know what he was doing. This was new territory for him. It didn’t help that the line was blurry. What was real flirting and what was joking? Sometimes you made him feel more confident than ever, and then seconds later you left him drowning, insecure and flustered. Maybe this was the moment to ask, you had left the door cracked open just enough for an opportunity.

Sean caught his attention, waving him over. He realized with a start that they hadn’t talked all night, for the first time in a long time. The door clicked shut, another chance lost. 

He turned to say something, and you waved him off.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said with a wink and a smile that made his heart flip. “I’m not interested in monopolizing your time. Besides, if I start now, I can probably pop in a quick 10 minute nap before we have to start running the first course.”

He watched you settle further, crossing your arms over your chest and close your eyes, either to continue the joke or to actually do what you said and shook his head fondly, before sauntering off to join Sean on the other side of the room.

[prayerith]

maybe them playing video games at yugi's place after school?

so i know this is three days late, but in my defense, i wanted it to be good, and election stress, and also i finished it yesterday but didn’t want to post it because of, you know. everything. however, i have finally finished, and i bring you: wishshipping where they’re playing video games, but it’s also a first kiss story :) (g-rated!) thanks again for the prompt!!

Having a best friend that lived above a game shop came with certain benefits, Jonouchi thought as he sat down on Yugi’s bed, N64 controller in hand. The one he was most concerned with at the moment was Kame Game’s early access to the latest video games, and the fact that Yugi almost always got a free copy of any game he wanted from his grandpa as soon as they came in. As such, the only reason he was at Yugi’s house was to play the new Nintendo fighting game (named Super Smash Bros, of all things), no matter what Anzu tried to insinuate as she saw the two of them walking in the same direction after school.

“Hey! Did it boot up okay?” Jonouchi nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Yugi’s voice, but relaxed when he saw him in the doorframe, balancing two bags of chips and a two-liter of soda in his arms.

“Yeah, it’s ready whenever we are,” Jonouchi replied, before standing up and taking one of the bags and the two-liter from Yugi to set them on the coffee table in front of the small television. Yugi smiled gratefully, and Jonouchi carefully ignored the skipped beat of his heart as he watched Yugi set the remaining bag down. He was only here for Super Smash Bros. Nothing more.

“Ah, thanks, Jonouchi.” Yugi’s face was red, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke. Jonouchi found himself fixated on the violet of his eyes, the movements of his muscles, the blush of his cheeks, even as he tried to put it aside and focus on the character-select screen. “Well, should we get started?” Yugi asked, clapping his hands together as he sat down on the bed entirely too close for Jonouchi’s liking.

“Sure thing, Yug’. What character do you want?” The urge to toss his arm over Yugi’s shoulders was almost too great to ignore, but he managed to push it down, instead swallowing and moving the joystick over the character portraits in a circle.

Yugi hummed, opening a bag of chips before grabbing his own controller. “I want…” he said, before selecting his character, with a cry of, “Kirby!” He reached into the bag of chips and popped a handful into his mouth, then, chewing at Jonouchi as though it were meant to be triumphant. Mostly, Jonouchi thought Yugi looked silly – and yet, whenever Yugi looked silly, he looked cute, so he couldn’t quite complain.

“The marshmallow, I should have known,” he said instead, arching an eyebrow at Yugi, who immediately erupted into laughter.

“Hey, don’t underestimate the marshmallow!” Yugi fixed Jonouchi with a stare that was surely meant to be intimidating, but was contradicted by the laughter sparkling in his eyes, and the twitch of his cheeks as he tried to keep them from smiling. “I can beat you with Kirby nine times out of ten, no doubt!”

“We’ll see about that!” Jonouchi laughed, selecting Link after not much thought. The guy’s got a cool sword, what could he say? Yugi hit the start button, and selected the first stage – thank goodness for that, Jonouchi had to figure out how the game worked before trying anything too crazy! After a brief loading screen, the game counted them down from three, and they were off.

***

“And that’s another win for me!” Yugi set his controller down and flung his arms into the air, eyes squeezed nearly shut from his smile as Kirby smiled from his first-place position, Link clapping politely in the background. “Yugi five, Jonouchi zero,” he continued, doing a seated victory dance that did little more than shake the bed underneath them.

Jonouchi only looked at the victory screen on the television for a moment before his gaze was drawn back to Yugi, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his bright smile. He didn’t much like losing, but it was worth it if he could see Yugi smile like that. “Guess I’m gonna need more time to get the hang of this game than you, huh?” he said, unable to keep the fondness out of his tone. “What’s your secret? How are you so good at everything you do?”

Yugi turned to look at him, then, cheeks immediately turning pink, which was cuter than it had any right to be. “Quit messing around, Jonouchi. There are plenty of things I’m not good at!” There was still laughter in his tone, like he was making a joke, but the way he rubbed the back of his neck told Jonouchi there was more going on.

“I wouldn’t joke about something like that! C’mon, you’re the closest thing to perfect I’ve ever seen.” Jonouchi put his hand on Yugi’s shoulder and shook it lightly. Yugi’s cheeks flushed even darker; whether it was because of the compliment or the physical contact, Jonouchi couldn’t be sure. He didn’t reply, choosing instead to stare at his lap and keep rubbing his neck. Jonouchi’s eyes narrowed; that had to stop. Without thinking, he grabbed Yugi’s hand and brought it to rest in the space between them, rubbing the back lightly with his own thumb to help comfort Yugi. “Hey, need me to run down a list?”

Yugi ducked his head, further avoiding eye contact, speaking his next words to the carpet. Jonouchi had to pause for a moment to fully comprehend what he said – it was always tougher for him to understand what people were saying if he couldn’t see their mouth move – but eventually he managed to process it. “No, you’re fine, I get it. You see me differently than I see myself, I guess.”

“Well that’s a shame, because I wish you saw yourself how I see you!” Jonouchi began holding Yugi’s hand with both of his, ducking his head so that he could see Yugi’s eyes under his bangs. “When I see you, I see the smart, brave, compassionate person who stood up for a no-good bully, even though he got beat up in the process.” Yugi opened his mouth to respond, but Jonouchi cut him off. “And I know you’re about to defend me, say that I was just trying to make you a man, or that I didn’t know what I was doing, and that’s the thing, Yug’! You always look for the good in people, no matter how deep you have to dig to find it. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met, and it’s all focused toward other people. When are you going to find compassion for yourself?” He squeezed Yugi’s hand a little tighter, which made Yugi finally look up toward him, wide, violet eyes shiny with unshed tears. Jonouchi felt like his heart would burst at the sight, so he squeezed tighter still, until Yugi brought his neglected hand to join the other, squeezing back.

“I think I prefer to hear it from you,” Yugi finally responded, voice thick with the tears he had yet to shed. But he was smiling, now, and that made Jonouchi so happy, he didn’t think twice about leaning forward to close the distance between them and kissing Yugi.

As far as first kisses went, it could have been better. The way they were sitting, side-by-side on Yugi’s bed a foot apart, made the angle awkward, especially since Jonouchi refused to let go of Yugi’s hands. Not to mention, the way Jonouchi had rushed in made the press of lips hard and unyielding, and Yugi had gone stiff at their first touch. When Jonouchi pulled away, it was with regret, fear – had he ruined their friendship forever? “I’m sorry, Yug’, I didn’t –”

“Let’s try that again,” Yugi interrupted, pulling his hands free and scooting close enough that his shoulders and thighs were touching Jonouchi���s. He cradled Jonouchi’s face with a hand, and Jonouchi knew he must have gone wide-eyed, because Yugi laughed. Finally, he leaned in, and captured Jonouchi’s lips in a much gentler, less impulsive kiss. Jonouchi melted into the contact, reciprocating as best he could, before they both pulled away. Yugi looked fit to burst with happiness, despite the lingering tears in his eyes, and Jonouchi couldn’t keep the dopey grin off his face.

“Man, and you really think you aren’t good at everything? ‘Cause you keep adding to the list!” Jonouchi laughed, brushing a stray bang out of Yugi’s eyes. Yugi glared at him, but it was playful, and he combed his hand through Jonouchi’s hair as well. “Seriously, that was the best kiss I ever had! You oughta teach classes on this, I’m not kidding.”

Yugi raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh? You want me to kiss other people?” Jonouchi stared at him for a second, again taking time to process, before spluttering and taking things back. Yugi just laughed, and interrupted him with another kiss. “I’m just kidding, Jonouchi. If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Time froze around Jonouchi, the world reduced to nothing but him and Yugi. If he could, he would have sprinted out the door and ran through the streets of Domino, proclaiming that Yugi was his. As it was, though, all he could say was, “Yeah, of course. And I’m yours too.” Then, he kissed Yugi again, just because he could. And if pieces of Kirby’s victory screen were burnt into the television screen for some time afterwards, well, who could blame them for forgetting to turn the game off?

[whitehotharlots]

Previewing the 2024 Democrat Primary

Within a couple weeks of his being sworn in, just about every person on earth will wish Joe Biden was no longer president. Sure, the few surviving John B. Anderson voters will be thrilled to see 4 years of crushing austerity and half-assed attempts at Keynesian stimulus. But most people will begin dreaming about a brighter future.

Good news! The 2024 Democratic primary field is going to contain dozens of options. Bad news! They are all going to be disgusting piles of shit. 

The “top tier”

While it’s too early to do any handicapping, these are the candidates the media will treat as having the most realistic chances of securing the nomination. 

Kamala Harris

Kamala did not win a single primary delegate in 2020. This is because she dropped out before the first primary, and that was because no one likes her. She has no base beyond a few thousand of twitter’s most violent psychos. Her disingenuousness approaches John Edwards levels: any halfway incredulous person can see immediately beyond her bullshit. She has no principles whatsoever, and while that may be par for the course for Democrats, she lacks even the basic politician’s ability to intuit anything that might, hypothetically, constitute a principle. 

Even better: she is an awful public speaker. She sounds like how a talking dog would speak if he were just caught stealing people food off the kitchen table. She communicates in weird grunts and faux sassy squeaks, which is how she imagines real black women sound like, but something about her is unable to sell the bit. She begins her sentences in halfhearted AAVE, stops and panics halfway through as she realizes that maybe this sounds fake and offensive, and then reminds herself oh wait, no, this is okay since I’m black. This doesn’t happen once or twice per speech. This is how every single sentence sounds. 

Kamala is like Nancy Pelosi in that no sketch show will ever impersonate her correctly, because anything that came close to authenticity would be considered far too cruel. This might benefit her in the primaries, as she exists in the minds of Democrats as someone and something she absolutely is not in reality. Nominating her would be like allowing your child’s imaginary friend to attempt to drive you to the store. 

Andrew Cuomo

Easily one of the 50 worst people alive, Cuomo has a solid chance because Democrats, same as Republicans, are unable to differentiate between electability and self-serving ruthlessness. Cuomo used the deadliest public health crisis in American history as a pretext for cutting Medicaid and firing 5,000 MTA workers, and his approval rating increased. New York Dems are little piggies who love eating shit. If we assume that the political media will continue their habit of refusing to discuss the legislative history of right wing Democrats, Cuomo might well cruise to the nomination and then lose to literally any human being the GOP nominates by an historic margin. 

Joe Biden

The party loves him because he is a right wing racist. “Progressives” tolerate him because black primary voters over 40 supported him, and their opinion is supposedly a magic window into god’s truth. Everyone else can tell he is manifestly senile. I don’t put it above the DNC to pick a candidate who is in horrible health, dying, or even dead--whatever the financial sector wants, they’ll get. But I would be shocked if his approval rating is above 39% by mid-2023, and by that point deep fake technology will be advanced enough they’ll put out a very lifelike video in which the Max Headroom version of Joe explains he’s proud of his accomplishments--that budget’s almost balanced already--but, man, I gotta abd--I gotta abdica--, uhh, I gotta, I, uhh, I gotta move down, man. 

Wild Cards

These candidates would have all have a chance if they ran, but they could all much more easily retire to Little Saint James off of kickbacks they’ve gotten from Citibank and I.G. Farben. 

Rahm Emanuel

Rahm is going to receive some hugely influential post in the Biden administration. Let’s say he becomes Secretary of Education. His signature achievement will be replacing all elementary school teachers with Amazon’s Alexa, which saved the taxpayers so much money we were able to quadruple the number of armed police officers we put into high schools. This will give him several thousand positive profiles on network news programs and the near-universal support of the Silicon Valley vampires who will own 99% of the country by the time Biden’s term ends. They will use their fancy mind control devices to convince geriatic primary voters that Rahm’s the one who will bring Decency back to the white house. His candidacy will be the paragon of wokeness, as expressing concern toward the fact that he covered up the police murder of a black guy will get you called a racist. 

Rahm has a bonus in that Jewish men are now Schrodeniger’s PoC. When they are decent human beings, they are basic, cis white men who are stealing attention from disabled trans candidates of color. When they love austerity and apartheid, they become the most vulnerable people of color on earth and criticizing them in any way is genocide. No one will be able to mention a single thing Rahm has ever done or said without opening themselves to accusations of antisemitism, and that gives him a strong edge against the rest of the field. The good news is that an Emmanuel candidacy would result in over 50% of black voters choosing the GOP candidate--which, I guess that’s not really good but it would certainly be funny. 

Gavin Newsom

Newsom is every bit as feckless as Cuomo, but he doesn’t put off the same “bad guy in an early Steven Segal movie” vibes. He will mention climate change 50 times per speech and no one will bother to mention how he keeps signing fracking contracts even though his state is now on fire 11 months of the year. If anything, this will be spun into an argument about how he’s actually the candidate best suited to handle all the water refugees gathering on the southern border. Look for his plan to curb emissions by 10% by the year 2150 to get high marks from Sierra Club nerds. He’s also a celebate librarian’s idea of what constitutes a handsome man, so he’ll have some support from the type of women who claim to hate all men. 

Larry Summers

I mean, why not? Larry, like most members of the Obama administration, has politics that are eerily similar to those of Jordan Peterson. In normal circumstances, this makes a person a dangerous fascist who should not be platformed. But if that person has a D next to their name this makes them a realistic pragmatist who has what it takes to bring suburban bankers into our tent. If current trends in Woke Phrenology continue apace, Larry’s belief that women are inherently bad at STEM will be liberal orthodoxy by 2023, and his dedication to the Laffer Curve could see him rake in massive donations. Seriously, I’m not kidding: cultural liberalism is now fully dedicated to identity essentialism and balanced budgets. Larry is their ideal candidate. If he were black and/or a woman, I’d put him in the very top tier. 

Jay Inslee

Unlike Newsom, Inslee’s attempt to crown himself the King of Global Warming won’t be immediately derailed, since his state is only on fire because of protestors. This, however, poses a different problem. He’s going to be a good test case for the Democrat’s uneasy peace with the ever increasing share of the electorate who become catatonic upon hearing a pronoun. On the one hand, you need to take their votes for granted. On the other hand, they’re not like black people or regular gays: most voters actively, consciously despise wokies, and associating yourself with them will ruin a campaign even in deep blue areas. There’s still gonna be riots in a year. Biden’s gonna announce the sale of all our nation’s potable water to the good folks at Nestle and some trans freak named Sasha-Malia DeBalzac is going to use that as an opportunity to sell their new pamphlet about how it’s fascist to not burn down small businesses. No matter what Inslee does in response, it’ll end his career. 

AOC

I’m not one of those “AOC is a secret conservative” weirdos, but I am aware enough of basic reality to know she has zero chance of coming close to the nomination. The right and the center both regard her as a literal demon. The party is already blaming her for the fact that a handful of faceless Reagan acolytes failed to flip their suburban districts even though they ran on sensible pragmatic proposals like euthanizing the homeless. The recriminations will only get more unhinged when the Dems eat shit in the 2022 midterms. She will be a Russian, she will be white male, she will be a communist, she will be a homophobe: any insult or conspiracy theory you can name, MSNBC will spend hours discussing. Her house seat challenger will receive a record amount of support from the DNC in 2024 and it’ll be all she can do to remain in congress.

Larry Hogan

Don’t be dissuaded by the fact that he’s a Republican. Larry is the DNC’s ideal candidate: a physically repulsive conservative who owes his entire career to appealing to the most spiteful desires of suburban white people. He’s an open racist in a material sense--if you’re old-school enough to think racism is a matter of beliefs and actions, rather than the presence of cultural signifiers--but his is the beloved “never Trump” style of racism that Dems covet. He’s also a Proven Leader who thinks the role of government should be to finance the construction of investment property and give police the resources they need to run successful drug trafficking operations. Few people embody the Democrat worldview more than Larry. 

The Losers Bracket

These people will have at least a small chance due solely to the fact that the Democrats love losing. They have lost in the past, and in the Democrat Mind that makes them especially qualified.

Joe Kennedy

The man looks like a mushroom-human hybrid from a JRPG. Trump proved that physical hideousness need not doom a presidential bid, but a candidate still needs some kind of charm or oratorical abilities or, god forbid, a decent platform. Joe aggressively lacks all of these things. A vanity campaign would be a good way to raise money and perhaps secure an MSNBC gig, so Joe might still run. 

Mayor Pete 

I am 100% convinced that Pete’s 2020 run was a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. I am also 100% aware that Democrats are dumb enough to enthusiastically support a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. If we have some sort of military or terror disaster between now and 2023 the Dems are sure to want a TROOP, and wait wait wait you’re telling me this one is a gay troop? Holy hell there’s no way that could lose!

Stacy Abrams

Never underestimate the power of white guilt. She lost the gubernatorial race to Gomer Pyle’s grandson, and her spiritual guidance of the Dems saw the party lose black voters in Georgia in 2020. Nonetheless, she is regarded as a magic font of fierceness within the DNC. She might stand a chance if she can establish herself as the most conservative non-white candidate in the field, but there’s going to be stiff competition for that honor.

Elizabeth Warren

Liz is probably angry that the party so shamelessly sold her out even after she was a good little girl and sabatoged Bernie’s campaign for them--yet another example of high ranking US government officials reneging on their promises to the Native American community. Smdh. The fact that this woman hasn’t been bankrupted a dozen times over by various Wallet Inspectors genuinely astounds me. So Liz is probably going to run again, and her campaign will be even sadder the second time around. 

It might surprise you to hear this if you don’t work at a college or NGO, but Liz diehards actually do exist. She’ll get even less support this time because there will be no viable leftist in the field for her to spoil, but she’ll still hang in long enough to make sure the very worst possible candidate beats out the second worst possible candidate. Maybe she’ll fabricate a rape accusation against Sherrod Brown. Maybe she’ll spend her entire allotted debate time doing a land acknowledgment. With Liz, anything is possible--so long as it ends in failure. 

Amy Klobuchar 

Amy was the most bloodthirsty of the 2020 also rans. She will double down on the unpopular failures of the Biden administration, explaining that if you weren’t such a selfish idiot you’d love the higher social security retirement age and oh my god are so such a moron you think you shouldn’t go bankrupt to get a COVID vaccine? There’s a non-unsubstantial segment of the Democratic base that’s self-hating enough to find this appealing, but it won’t be enough to make her viable. 

Martha Coakley

She lost Ted Kennedy’s senate seat to a retarded man who was pretending to be even more retarded than he actually was. Then she lost a gubernatorial race to a guy who openly promised Massachusetts voters that he would punish them for electing him. Her record of failure is unparalleled, making her perhaps the ideal Democrat standard bearer for the twenty twenties. 

[nicnacsnonsense]

Aziraphale & Crowley's D&D classes?

Short version:

Aziraphale is a paladin, and Crowley is a bard.

Long version:

Aziraphale originally created his character as a paladin at the suggestion of the DM because it was going to create the best team balance and be the best fit for the planned campaign. However, as he played he found he didn’t really enjoy the melee combat and would much rather be support class. He’s continually tried to change classes to cleric, but the DM won’t let him.

And Gabriel’s not even the real, original DM. She stopped answering anyone’s calls ages ago. They know she’s not dead because they managed to get a hold of her... husband? flatmate? assistant? attorney? dude who speaks for her, but she’s not talking to any of them. So the group decided to elect Gabriel to take over as DM to continue the campaign.

I say the group decided, but Aziraphale was not consulted on this policy decision. And quite frankly he’s not really enjoying playing anymore; Gabriel is a terrible DM, and the whole group has gotten rather overbearing. He considers quitting on a semi-regular basis, but always feels bad about potentially leaving everyone else in the lurch, and besides, where else is he going to go? He doesn’t know of any other D&D groups he could join or how he would go about finding one.

Meanwhile Crowley started out with his group as a bard, but then one of the other players basically tricked him into making a warlock pact with a demon prince, forcing the class change. And what’s worse is the guy texted everyone the day after that session to let them know in the most condescending way possible that he was quitting. The DM decided to narratively address this issue by revealing his character was actually the demon prince in disguise and shifting the character to a sporadically appearing NPC, so now this arse gets off scot-free while Crowley is stuck with him.

Crowley hates playing as a warlock, admittedly partially because it was forced on him, and feels like the group as a whole is getting pretty toxic. He plans on quitting, but first he’s trying to find a way to force the story to dissolve his pact with the demon prince on principle/out of spite. He just has to keep his plotting from the DM because he knows Beelzebub would stop him if they knew about it.

And Beelzebub isn’t even the original DM. They just took over when the first DM basically vanished. Crowley hates them as a DM, and feels like they’re part of the reason this whole thing has gone toxic.

In a twist that shocks all the players but precisely zero members of the reading audience, it turns out both groups’ AWOL DMs are in fact the same DM. She was running both campaigns concurrently and had been secretly weaving them together. The plan was for a big reveal and then to do one last story arc as a joint effort before closing out the campaign. Which means now Gabriel and Beelzebub are trying to co-DM, despite the fact they can’t stand each other and 2 minutes and 13 seconds is currently their record for longest they’ve gone without one of them insulting the other. And the both of them swear they’re moving things forward exactly the way the DM had planned based on her notes, as though they didn’t all know she always had a million and one things going on in her head and wrote less than half of them down. The whole thing is quickly turning into a shit show without any actual playing happening.

So Crowley is watching all this go down and seriously considers leaving for a minute, before screwing up his courage and sauntering over to sit down next to the good-looking blond guy from the other group, Az-something his name was. “Well this is going down like a lead ballon.”

Az, Az... Aziraphale! That was his name, Aziraphale. Aziraphale glances over at Crowley and chuckles a little, but he looks extremely nervous. Hopefully it’s a general social awkwardness thing, and not something about Crowley in particular that he’s finding off-putting. “Sorry, what was that?” Aziraphale asks.

“I said, ‘Well this is going down like a lead ballon.’”

“Yes, yes, it is rather,” Aziraphale agrees.

Emboldened by his success so far — given that Aziraphale is the type of person to show up for a casual game night in a waistcoat, bow tie, and pocket watch, whereas Crowley’s the type of guy (well, guy-ish) to wear snakeskin boots, women’s jeans, and get a snake tattooed to the side of his face, he’s willing to consider not getting immediately shut down a success — Crowley leans closer to whisper conspiratorially. “You know my disaster of a neighbor runs sessions with the local gang of eleven year olds, and I bet even they run a smoother game than this lot.”

“I shouldn’t doubt it.” Aziraphale huffs in annoyance. “At this rate we aren’t going to get anything done today at all, and I can’t possibly stay late just because everyone else is bickering and disorganized. I have dinner reservations for that new Italian restaurant; I hear they do remarkable things to oysters.”

“I’ve never eaten an oyster,” Crowley replies.

“Oh, well, let me tempt you to—“ Aziraphale cuts himself off and quickly looks away, blushing.

Crowley grins. “Tempt me to what?” he asks, gently knocking Aziraphale’s foot with his own.

Aziraphale darts a sideways look at him, and then back down at his hands, still blushing faintly. “I was just thinking it’s such a shame you’ve never tried oysters before and that, well, if you aren’t busy of course, that you might want to join me tonight.”

“I wouldn’t want to wreck your dinner plans,” Crowley says, which is half true. He has no problem with wrecking dinner plans in principle — he finds he especially doesn’t have a problem with crashing a date that Azirapahle might hypothetically be on — but he doesn’t want to do it if it would upset Aziraphale.

“I doubt it’ll be a hardship to ask the restaurant to bump my table for one to two.”

“Well, in that case,” Crowley drawls. The two of them are both smiling at each other now, and that’s... good. It’s very good. Very, very good. In fact, “Why don’t we head out now? Go see a movie before dinner.”

Aziraphale looks scandalized. “We can’t leave early. Everyone else is counting on us to be here to play.”

Crowley nods over toward Beelzebub and Gabriel, who look about two seconds away from an actual fist fight at this point — Crowley’s money is on Beelzebub; they’re small, but they’re scrappy, and Gabriel might be built, but he doesn’t look like he can take a punch for shit. “You really think they’re going to miss us?”

“Ah, well...” Aziraphale hems.

“It doesn’t have to be a movie.” Crowley says. “We could go for a coffee, a walk in the park, to the museum...” Aziraphale lights up at the last suggestion, and Crowley’s heart starts to beat a little faster. He firmly tells it to calm the fuck down; they’re trying to play it cool here. “Come on. You tempted me to dinner, only fair to let me tempt you to a museum, huh?”

Aziraphale takes on last glance at the rest of the group before turning back to Crowley. His smile is small but extraordinarily pleased, and he wiggles a bit in his seat. “Temptation accomplished.”

After that the two of them leave for their “is it a date? Who the fuck knows; definitely not these two idiots.” The following week they go to Newt’s D&D session instead. Crowley is allowed to immediately revert his character back to a bard. Meanwhile Aziraphale ends up staying a paladin, but the kids have enough big damage dealers in their group that he can play the character as an unusually tank-y healer.

[reylofanfictionanthology]

For one is love and both are one in love is now live!  

Authors will be revealed next week!  For now all fics are anonymous.  Treats can be posted through author reveals on 2/21.  We will post an updated masterpost at that time.

For one is love and both are one in love collection on AO3 |  Gift Fic Master Post Part Two | Treats Masterpost

Gifts Fic Master Post Part One:

ghosts on the shore for aaronBursar

“I meant what I said to you that day on the Death Star. I thought I could never go back. I still think it even now—that I don’t belong here, that I never will.” “But you did come back,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You’re here now. With me. You chose it. Despite everything, we made it, both of us.” They sat in silence for awhile, hands clasped while they watched the camp clear as people finally turned in for the night. Then, suddenly, Ben was struck with an idea. “What if we took a trip?”

Sugar High for abbytheatre08

When Maz Kanata hosts five weeks of a Battle of the Bands competition, Rey Johnson and Kylo Ren find themselves both pitted against one another, and drawn together as the weeks go on.

Delayed For A While for aionimica

Death cannot stop love. All it can do is delay it awhile.

I am ready to follow you even though I don't know where for AlwaysEverlark

Her closest friends want Rey to move on from what happened on Exegol, but she refuses to accept that Ben Solo, her soulmate in the Force, is dead. Instead, she undertakes a rescue mission to bring Ben home--no matter the risk.

A More Perfect Union for america_oreosandkitkats

Rey, new to DC, tags along to a stuffy networking event with her friend -- they're both poor and, hell, there's free booze. Ben, a recruiter for the lobbyist firm he works for, finds the intern with the soft voice and angry eyes a fun challenge -- especially when he finds out she works for his estranged mother Senator Leia Organa.

In the Den of the Darkwolf for Amy326

Rey awakened in the darkwolf’s den.

happy cockus day for andabatae

She prefers the nip of New Hampshire winters, heavy winds blowing in her hair, being bundled up in three layers with pens whose ink freeze fast and thaw slow. She loves warm buildings, and Christmas breaks, and slurping down huge bowls of ramen in the evenings, but being on the ground, a clipboard in her hand, boots on a voter’s doorstep? That’s where she knows she belongs. So there are a lot of things going against Rey Johnson’s introduction to Ben Solo, his moody personality probably the least of her worries, since he’s the reason she’s not outside, making some sort of tangible effort to get his mother elected as president.

Hope Lives for aNerdObsessed

This AU story takes place right after the Battle of Exegol, Rey and Ben have just defeated Palpatine and they are both seriously injured but not mortally wounded. When all hope is lost for them as there is no one coming to get them, old friends of the past come to their aid.

Two Bits (or The Haircut) for Ann3onymous

Three days into their marriage of convenience, Ben and Rey are maybe starting to realize that there’s more to this arrangement than a green card or a cooperative board of directors.

We've Got a Good Thing Here for Anysia

Rey & Ben Solo navigate their feelings in the aftermath of the end of the war. With Ben a "functionally dead" force ghost, Rey has to come to terms with how she will balance restoring liberty to the galaxy and making her relationship with Ben work in a... physical sense. It's a difficult enough task to begin with, and it doesn't help that every time they're alone someone seems to require Rey for something.

Event Horizon for Apisa_B

Rey runs into Kylo Ren on a mission for the Resistance, and they have to work together against their wishes. This would be simple... if working together didn't involve pretending to be married, sharing a hotel room, and a lot of unresolved feelings.

still caught in yesterday's wake for Apricot

Her heart is heavy with fear—fear that one day she will no longer be able to recall the shape of Ben’s face, or the timbre of his voice, or the exact color of his eyes; that her memory of him will fade until she is left with nothing but the pain of his absence, like some phantom limb that aches and aches and aches, relentlessly.

A Dark Day Dream for ArdeaJestin

Ben's come home, but Rey can't face him. Not because of anything he's done, at least not in real life. But in her fantasies? oh yes.

Become Who You Were Meant to Be for Aurae

Kylo is a fighter both by training and by preference. Tactics, not strategy. Action, not discussion. Every instinct in him wants to solve his problems by grabbing his sword and shedding some blood. But those easy days are behind him now. He has a galaxy to run. It would be easier if only he could stop thinking about her.

The Spaces Inbetween for Ayrith (freijya)

It wasn’t the first time. Not the first since Crait and she saw him kneeling and their eyes met with anger and ache and want and everything else they didn’t have to say. No. Not the first, nor the second, nor even the third. This was a well trodden path that they all walked over and over. As if the Force was taking their hands and despite both of them tearing it away, still trying to bring them together. --- Rey and Kylo have been dealing with the Force bond for some time, but it finally reaches a tipping point.

The Least Of What I Could Do for benperor-ren (winterelf86)

"I refuse to play opposite someone who has never had a part in their entire life," sneers Ben. "Either Rey goes or I do."

Niima's for bensolosredemption

Though Niima's is a questionable establishment, it's always been Ben's favorite bar. It's not just because he's inexplicably attracted to the new bartender, either - though he has to admit she might have something to do with it.

Devil Spawn for Biekewieke

After a hot anonymous encounter at The Annual Organa Halloween Ball, Rey realizes she slept with the horrible guy who is her new boss. But he doesn't recognize her! And he asks her to track down his mystery hookup, which she totally agrees to do (wink wink, haha, she's lying). But then she finds out she's pregnant! GASP! What's a scared, pregnant single girl to do? (Other than take a nap because she's exhausted.)

Belonging for bitterbones

Friends-with-benefits except whoops I'm in love with you now and hate seeing you flirt with other people because we're technically not together.

Paradise for bittersnake

For two people whose souls are inseparably united, the question of sex shouldn't be that complicated. Given Ben and Rey's individual histories, however, it really comes as no surprise. But that's all right. They’ll have their whole lives together to figure it out, if Rey and Ben and possibly several hundred generations’ worth of Jedi ghosts have anything to say about the matter. Which they do.

Miss Johnson & the Professor for blackheretic (redlondons)

Her heart wants to erupt through her throat, and she audibly gulps, trying to keep her gaze from the only place it wants to go. Thank fuck his eyes are so hypnotic; she can get lost in them as she stammers for English syllables. “Y-Yes, Dr. Solo?” “Seriously, Rey.” Is he blushing? Surely not. “I’ve known you all year, call me Ben.” “Ben,” she mumbles. It tastes like delicious sacrilege. “I actually think you’re in my bed.” “Huh?” “The couch. I was going to sleep there. Remember?” Rey clutches the blanket to her collarbone, hoping the light fabric is tented loosely enough to cover her breasts. Fuck, why does he have to be so distractingly hot? “No, it’s all right. I don’t mind, Professor.” “Ben," he insists firmly. “And I won’t be able to sleep at all knowing I’m comfy in a bed while you’re sleeping on that thing.”

Owner Malfunction. for Bombastique

One year after surviving Execgol, Rey and Ben Solo find themselves in each other's company after they are both captured while trying to take back the Falcon from Kanjiklub remnants. (AKA - The Force, the Falcon, love, and droids.)

Stealing the Light for bratanimus

Redemption isn’t given. It’s earned. Or: As the galaxy rebuilds from war, the man formerly known as Kylo Ren tries to make peace with the person he was, and the person he’s becoming.

Rey Niima and the American (Hot Piece of) Ass that She Just Wants to Tap, while also Not Dying in the Triwizard Tournament or Becoming Otherwise Inconvenienced or Maimed for Cairdiuil_Paiste

Completed for the prompt: Hogwarts AU! Triwizard tournament time with seventh year Rey representing Hogwarts. She wants to impress the MACUSA representative to strengthen her chances of joining their graduate programme. Too bad American diplomat Ben Solo doesn't seem to like her…

a forest of stars for caisha

Rey works hard at the diner to save up for her long dreamed-of vacation to Finland. She's lonely, but that's not new. What is new is Kylo Ren, the CEO of Orpheus Corp and new boss of her best friend Finn. When Finn and Kylo Ren stop by the diner for lunch, Rey feels as though she's finally met someone who understands her. But who is Kylo Ren, and what's his secret? A Modern Fae AU

I am a Soul Longing for Ceallaigh

Rey has spent the last two years searching the galaxy for clues about how to bring Ben back. Now, finally, it seems she has a solid lead. The planet Xolutel is said to be a vergence in the Force, and myth has it there's a hidden temple where worshipers of the Force were granted their deepest desires. No matter how slim the possibility, Rey owes it to Ben and herself to check it out. She's not known to give up easily.

The World Has Been Sad Since Tuesday for ceciliasheplin

The creature on his bed defied explanation, but Kylo Ren had a distinct feeling that there was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. At least, not in this room. Demons lay in wait outside, but not here. Best not to let anyone know about this.

Be With Me for Chthonia

A force connection between Kylo (Ben), and Rey. It takes place while she is on Ach-To, and he is on the Death Star.

between the shadow and the soul for ClockworkCrow (icemink)

“You and Skywalker have been keeping it a secret,” she said, her eyes searching his face to catch him when he lies. “But I know the truth. I learned it, the day after we fought on Mustafar. That Lord Vader was his father, and your grandfather.” He struggled against her stasis but she pushed back harder, her power swirling around them both. “Rey—” “Don’t you see, Ben?” There was a ghost of a smile on her lips. “The darkness is inside of you, too. You don’t have to keep fighting it. You were meant to be mine.” Mine. . or: Jedi Knight Ben Solo should really stop doing smuggling runs with his father. Kira Ren should really stop trying to turn him to the dark side.

The Rescue for cohava

“What is it?” Ben asked, watching the worry lines form on Rey’s forehead as she checked the message that had just pinged through her datapad. “Poe’s leading the relief efforts on Faratula. There’s a boy there, Force sensitive. Orphaned. Poe says it’s a pretty bad situation.” “Let’s go get him, then,” he said without pausing.

how easy you are to need for Crimson_Alchemistress

The war is finished, yet Rey still carries wounds. They come in the form of nightmares, but Ben is there to comfort her.

stuck on how it feels here next to you for crossingwinter

Around four months ago, Ben and Rey married out of convenience. It had started that way and one of the key reasons why they had agreed to this in the first place was the condition that neither had romantic feelings for the other. This is their life, both head of heels for the other while not really knowing what to do about it.

Blue Sand for Crysania

The pale crimson sun rises above the horizon across the fields. A slight wind gently brushed Rey’s face. She left the ship and coverded herself with a blue scarf from a desert heat. She stepped forward, carefully observing the small city before her. Hot sand was burning her feets despite thick soles of boots. “This is going to be disaster,” she told herself with a crooked smile.

covert mission: baby acquisition for crystanagahori

In which Rey decides she's ready to start a family of her own and Ben Solo, her boss and dear friend, would make the perfect sperm donor. * It was a stupid, girlish crush. One that likely wasn’t reciprocated, and could land her in a world of trouble with HR if she acted brashly. But still, she wanted him. He could waive his parental rights for all she cared. They could enter into some sort of contract, if such things existed. But he was the perfect candidate, the ideal sperm donor. Ben Solo.

hands that hurt, hands that heal for cuddlesome

Rey climbs on top of Ben and makes out with his sopping self after Force healing his stab wound.

It was not Death, for I stood Up for CwenPhy

Emperor Palpatine lied on Exegol; Rey is not his granddaughter. Rey sets off on a journey, led by Obi-Wan Kenobi, to bring Ben Solo back from the World Between Worlds.

Good Boy for dankobah

Rey takes her dog to a nearby veterinary clinic for an emergency and doesn't expect to meet Ben (or anyone) while there.

The Unbreakable Bond for DarkSideOfMe

After Crait, Rey thought she had severed their Force Bond, or at least closed it, but some weeks ago she started feeling it, a presence in the back of her mind. Then she could hear him saying her name or other random words or feelings: concern, anxiety, loneliness, longing..to be fair, she didn’t know who those feelings belonged to, if there were Kylo’s or hers. And that was the other reason to put an end to this; she wasn’t ready to deal with anything different to her anger and disappointment. She had to focus on her training, on the Resistance, in their fight against “his” First Order. She was scared, scared of something she couldn’t put a name to, and last night had just showed her how important it was to break their connection. It was time to read the Jedi texts she’s been putting off for too long.

NiimaRide for datswatutink

Journey urge her not to stop believin' but provide no further clarification before she's strapped in the back seat and they're pulling away from the only real break she's had in twenty-four years.

To Hold and Give Light for dearly

After Exegol, Rey takes an injured Ben back to the Resistance.

a conundrum of lightsabers for devon380black (kryptonian17)

In the aftermath of Crait, Rey is left with two halves of a broken lightsaber she has no idea how to fix. As her force bond conversations with Ben continue, she comes to understand he's the only one who can help her with her problem. Maybe if they can repair one thing, they can repair something else too.

What Happens in Hotel Chandrila for DrPearlGatsby

Accompanying her best friends to a Galaxy Wars convention in Chandrila sounded like a good idea at first. But third-wheeling sucks, and that's how Rey finds herself daydrinking alone at the hotel bar. And then she gets a free drink from a tall, brooding, handsome stranger…

Until the Wild Feelings Leave You for dustoftheancients

Rehabilitating from a battle injury leaves Rey an irritable mess. The way Ben hovers over her does nothing to help.

Kintsugi for ElegyGoldsmith

In the darkest moments, the galaxy is still filled with light.

give me shapes and letters, if it’s not forever for ElleRen31

She holds out her hand, “I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Rey.  I work at the flower shop next door.” He must be new, or she’s just a shut-in during work because she would’ve remembered seeing him after a year of being here. “I’m Kylo, I own the tattoo shop.”  He points to his building and her eyebrows raise as he shakes her hand.  Owner? So he’s the head honcho? She hums to herself and then keeps the smile plastered on her face. Then she sets her sights on the dogs, “What are their names?”

Where the ocean goes for Elywyngirlie

Sometimes getting out alive is the victory. Sometimes the rest takes a little time.

it shall not be death for englishable

Rey of the Jedi Knights is sent with her sword and Holy Fire, to destroy a palace of thorns. It doesn't quite go as planned.

The Reckoning for Erin410

Because of Rey, Ben has grown rather good at waiting. But she’s waiting, too, for something that hasn’t dawned on him yet. [Post-TROS mildly angsty marriage proposal fluff, hope you enjoy!]

Trading Places for Fairleigh

Kylo… Kylo awoke to the sound of her whimpering his name. He sat bolt upright in Rey’s extremely uncomfortable cot. Anxious for her safety, he reached out for her with his mind. Rey? He heard her moan and heat instantly pooled between his legs. Curious. The sensation was different but not unwelcome. Then he saw Rey, or rather he saw himself, naked and writhing on his bed. His mouth fell open. Rey was... masturbating. He watched in awe as she pumped his shaft up and down, slowly but forcefully. Kylo… She called his name again.

You'll Turn for FangirlintheForest

A retelling of the Last Jedi's elevator and throne room scenes with a role reversal twist. Can Smuggler Ben turn Dark Rey?

Building Something Together for fantastic_fanatics

When Ben confronts his new upstairs neighbor who keeps making all manner of odd noises at all manner of hours, he didn't expect what she's doing up there. He also didn't expect her to be so pretty.

Little Starfighter for Fic_me_senseless

Convinced he ruins everything he touches, isolated and lonely Ben Solo successfully pushes everyone away, except for the girl who sees something in him she recognizes.

Benvenuto nella nostra famiglia for gennalannisters

"Well, I have sensitive information here. Dinner is just actually a ploy. It’s actually an interrogation to make sure you didn't read the documents." She turned and smirked at him as they headed down the stairs, "If that's the case, I'm happy to be interrogated through wining and dining.” Love is in the air at Harvard Square.

Binary Suns for gigi_marlee

Young Ben Solo meets a young Rey. The two form an intense and instant attachment to the confusion of Ben's parents and his Uncle, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. What is a dyad and what will it mean for two children who have found belonging in each other?

more everything for HalfwayThrough

"I'm the boss, I've earned the right to show up whenever the fuck I want." He was arrogant, condescending, and an asshole. And he didn't have a mark on his wrist.

One Stick of Unsalted Butter for HopeRebel

Rey's neighbor is the rudest, least considerate person she had to interact with. However, when she runs out of butter in the middle of night trying to bake cookies for Rose's birthday, there is only person she knows is awake and he is her only hope. Of course, things don't go according to plan.

come home, ben for hxllosweetie33

He looked at their hands, watched as Rey intertwined their fingers together, and fought the back the shutter from the contact. “ Rey…” He whispered. She brought her hand to his face – calloused tips brushing against his scar – observing his face, every detail of it, the bags and dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, his dry lips, the lack of light behind his eyes.

Ashes of Life for iamladyloki

Dark Rey becomes a reality and Ben has to remind her who she is

Negotiated Settlement for ilum

General Leia Organa has brought a small team with her to Kaytuu 5, expecting to negotiate a ceasefire between the First Order-controlled planetary government and local Resistance fighters. Unfortunately, Supreme Leader Armitage Hux has other plans. Rey will need the assistance of a Certain Someone who no longer calls himself Kylo Ren if she and her friends are to save the day.

Coming Home for incognitajones

After the Battle of Exegol, Rey and an injured Ben are trapped together on an uninhabited planet.

The Stray for itsinthestars

Rey moves in across the hall from Ben; a former foster kid alone in the city, aspiring to be an actress. Ben is a ladder-climbing white collar businessman with a horrible boss and zero social life. Which is just the way he likes it. So why in the world has this insufferable creature made it her life's work to adopt him? From sharing her dinner to doing his laundry, she seems determined to make a connection. In the end, it's easier for Ben to just let her. But opening up means letting your heart be vulnerable.

Peace and Purpose for itsnotillegal

Across the stars, Rey and Ben yearn for each other, neither able to move on, both facing the unending nights alone. But the Force longs for balance as surely as they long for each other.

Christmas Blues for karlamartinova

The first snow had fallen, covering the ground like a white blanket. The emergence of winter weather always marked the increase of Christmas moods. The season when people fervently decorated their houses and you couldn’t walk through the mall or downtown area without hearing a Christmas jingle. The neighborhood already sparkled with multicolored lights and inflated or authentic snow-made snowmen. Rey Johnson’s festive mood rose with each house she drove by, her fingers tapping on the wheel as “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree”faded and transitioned into another song.

prince and the sea for kuresoto

Prince Ben Chewbacca Solo Organa, descendant of the house of Naberrie and the line of Skywalker, heir to the Starbird pirate fleet, has followed in the family tradition of slaying monsters and ruling the high seas. Which in no way is an attempt at ignoring his soulmate bond.

what stranger miracles for La_Catrina

Ben can’t even manage to die right, apparently. 

the universe resting in my arms for Lightningpelt

Rey sees Ben, quietly tooling around the Skywalker homestead, his hands wet with mechanic's grease, and the image is so perfect that she holds her breath, not wanting to mar it with a loud breath.

counting my steps, reaching out to you for Lizardbeth

All her life, Rey has felt snatches of someone else's emotions, seen visions of other places, other people she's certain she's never seen before. In a world where everything had been taken away from her, this connection was hers alone. She is wholly unprepared for the day she finds out that the person at the other end of the connection is a Jedi fighting as part of the Resistance against her delusional Master.

Soulmates for LostInQueue

After Ben Solo disappears in front of her eyes, she finds a way to bring him back, where love began…

Heal for LRRH17

A few weeks after the Battle of Crait, the Force connects Rey and Ben again on several occasions.

Softly, Softly  for lucymonster

When the Resistance start to pick up distress calls from defecting Stormtroopers, they move to save as many as they can. It doesn't occur to them that the First Order might be after the same renegades until they're right on top of them.

First Impressions and Unexpected Connections for LueurdeLaube

War has ravaged the galaxy, but finally, there is a chance at peace. Her grandfather arranges for Princess Rey Palpatine to wed the Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, broadcast across the galaxy to usher in the new era. They've never met before, but he's sent her letters.

All These Things That I've Done for MahoganyDoodles

Someone dropped down to Rey's level and reached for the empty plastic shell of her case. She stilled for a moment, afraid that she was about to get smacked with it, afraid to look up. “Sorry about him,” she heard over the sound of her heart beating through her ears. Not Hux? This voice was deeper. Rey looked up and saw Ben Solo in front of her, holding out the case for her, a sympathetic look in his dark brown eyes.

For Now for maq_moon

There are plenty of things he could say, but he doesn’t. Buying you muffins makes me excited to get out of bed in the morning. I wish I could go back in time and be the kind of person you could like. I don’t remember my life before you. ---------- When Kylo finds his soulmate, she doesn't know, and he doesn't tell her.

[jay-me-says]

Things Were Different Back Then

CHAPTER FIVE: Midnight Conversations

Masterpost w/ more info on the fic | Note: all SBI-related relationships here are platonic!

Tommy dodges Tubbo’s sword, barely this time. His limbs feel like they have bags full of stones tied to them, weighing down every dodge, parry, and strike. Tubbo attacks again and Tommy only just manages a weak block. His brown-haired friend seems to be tiring as well, but not nearly as much as he is. Where the hell is he getting all of this energy? Tommy wonders, his breaths coming out as wheezes.

The blond attempts an attack with as much energy as he can muster, but it comes out messy and Tubbo parries him with the same ease he would a child. Tommy takes too long to recover and the other boy takes advantage of the moment, hitting the back of his knees with the flat of his blade, making the taller boy lose his balance. All it takes is one final shove and he’s on the ground.  

He’s almost relieved to be flopped on the ground, as exhausted as he is from going to the docks late every night. The boy even shuts his eyes. How nice it would be to just sink into the grass and sleep for a while…

“This is getting too easy,” Tubbo says above him.

Tommy cracks one eye open, squinting against the bright sun. The brunette has the blunt end of his wooden training sword pushed into the ground. His hands are on the pommel, leaning his weight against it. A playful grin brightens his face, spreading to his blue eyes.  

Tommy just groans in response and closes both eyes again. The grass makes a swoosh noise as the shorter boy comes to sit by his side.

Tubbo is right, though. Tommy has been slow this morning. Normally when they practice with each other, they end up with a relatively even number of wins and losses. But out of all the practice matches they’ve done this morning, Tubbo has won all of them but one. And that was only because Walter had gotten in the middle of them one round, demanding attention and distracting Tubbo long enough for Tommy to land what they considered a “fatal blow.” Tubbo had mumbled grumpily about cheating but still shot the blond a smile while he pet Walter.

“Is something wrong?” the brunette asks now.

Tommy sighs internally and opens both eyes this time, looking up at Tubbo. His friend is facing the opposite direction to him, so his legs are splayed out near Tommy’s head and his hands, pressed into the grass behind him to keep himself sitting up, are by Tommy’s legs. For one of the first times since the blonde’s return, Tubbo is wearing casual clothes; jeans and a loose green shirt. A familiar red bandana is wrapped around his left wrist, making Tommy want to smile.

A part of him is happy. He’d really missed these simple things while he’d been gone, like sparring and Tubbo just being Tubbo within arm’s reach of him. If Tommy stopped to think about it for too long, he had an urge to grab hold of his friend and hug him as hard as he had at the gate his first day back. The boy stares at Tubbo’s red bandana, perhaps bordering on thinking about it for too long.  

He must’ve been silent for too long because Tubbo pokes one of his knees with a finger. “Tommy, c’mon. What’s going on, big man?” Despite the joke-y nickname, the blond can hear the concern in his friend’s voice. A familiar spike butts its way into his gut. Guilt. He feels guilty for making Tubbo worry about him. His homecoming was meant to be great and happy. And the guy’s a president, for fuck’s sake. He should have more important things to worry about.

The spike drives itself deeper as words fall out of his mouth faster than he can think to stop them. “Nothing’s going on. It’s just…I’m kind of tired, is all. And rusty. I haven’t had a proper fight in a while, so I should’ve expected as much.”

Tubbo fixes a skeptical blue stare on him, so Tommy continues, “I’m fine, Big T, really.” The words taste like the time Techno tricked him into drinking spoiled milk when they were kids. Liar. The spike of guilt grows larger in accusation.

The brunette still looks uncertain but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gets up and brushes loose blades of bright grass off of his dark blue jeans. Then, he turns and offers a hand to Tommy, who takes it gratefully, letting Tubbo help him pull himself up.

Letting his hand drop from Tommy’s as he bends to pick up the blonde’s discarded training sword, Tubbo says, “There’s a few hours before we need to be down beneath the Stilted Sector to help light things up. You should get some sleep before we go. I’ll make some lunch and wake you up a while before we have to go.”

Tommy nods. “Alright. Thank you, Tubbo.”

Tubbo nudges him lightly with his shoulder. “Anytime, big man.”

“And, hey, you got lucky today. In another month, I’ll be back to kicking your ass when we fight.”

Tubbo laughs. “You wish.”

~

The water beneath the Stilted Sector is still very shallow. It doesn’t quite cover the tops of most of the sea pickles that the group places down. But when a time comes where it’s high enough, the blue water will glow gorgeously.

When Niki had sent out the call for sea pickles and manpower, the council hadn’t expected most of L’manburg to show up. It would’ve taken about twenty minutes tops with only a few extra people, but with the crowd they’d gathered it would easily take ten. A few barrels and chests full of pickles, mostly from Eret (“Yeah, you’re the type of guy to always have what I need!” Tommy had joked almost affectionately to the tall man) had been carried out as well. Presently, Tubbo is stood by one of the chests, loading his arms up with a fresh supply of the natural light sources. His blue jeans had been rolled up several times before climbing into the crater, but the edges are now dark with water anyways. Mainly from all the splashing Tommy was doing.

At the moment, the tall blond is starting a minor water fight with Quackity, one arm filled with dark green sea pickles and the other scooping water in the secretary of state’s direction. He’s eyeing Fundy, who is placing pickles nearby, like he might be next.

Tommy seems full of energy now- the nap had definitely helped- but Tubbo couldn’t shake his concern. He’d never, ever beaten Tommy while practicing fighting like that. Even if the boy was rusty and tired, it shouldn’t have been that easy. Even on the worst of days, Tommy always put up such a fight. There was always, always a little bit more he could give to the battle. But just about every move he’d made earlier had been messy and poor and so not Tommy.

And besides that, there were the times Tommy had gone all quiet these past few days. He’d told Tubbo on his second day back that being in L’manburg brought back memories, which Tubbo could understand. It had been hard for him this past month or so as well. Memories were everywhere. Schlatt’s tight grip stalks Tubbo from every shadow, and the phantoms of the election day and TNT haunt the Stilted Sector. It’s inescapable.

What he couldn’t understand, though, was how little communication he was getting from Tommy. Normally, they would tell one another everything. Unlike the blond, Tubbo had had other people to talk to during the past month, but it was never the same. No one could match how Tommy sat forward when Tubbo started talking about something eating at him, or the way he always seemed to know when to let him vent and when to try to cheer him up. And even when he didn’t know, he asked and they talked and they got through whatever was bothering Tubbo together. And Tubbo did the same for Tommy. Because they were L’manburg’s favorite dream duo.

But Tommy wasn’t talking to him as freely as he once had. It was killing Tubbo. He was barely resisting the urge, at this moment, to grab his friend by his shirt, drag him to the side, whack with a sizeable stick, and make the blond tell him what’s wrong.

For the second time that week, Niki sneaks up on Tubbo while he’s lost in thought.

“Tubbo?” she prompts. Her voice is like an exhale of sweet spring air.

The president inhales sharply and quickly pivots to look at her, barely keeping a grip on all of his sea pickles.

She smiles a little. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I was just wondering what you are thinking about.”

Tubbo turns his gaze back to Tommy, who is now fending off both Fundy and Quackity. Water droplets cling to his straw-colored hair and he grins, a mischievous yet joyful glint in his eyes. “It’s just that…he’s been off lately, Niki. I’m real worried.”

She follows his gaze, smile growing at the water fight. “Maybe you should try talking to him about it, Tubbo.”

“I’ve tried that. He won’t speak with me about it. Not really, anyways.”

“If you really asked, he would. In a heartbeat, Tubbo.”

~

It’s late, now. The silver moon has long since traded spots with the sun. Tubbo hasn’t slept yet, though. He keeps thinking about what Niki had said. And Tommy, of course.

After the sea pickles were finished, some people had stuck around and they’d started in on the next few projects. There were so many opportunities for Tubbo to ask while he and Tommy were alone throughout the day. While they were reinforcing some of the supports of the Stilted Sector, while taking a break by the flagpole, on the walk home, and the entire time they’d been home since the walk back. But his nerves turned themselves into a needle and borrowed fear for a thread, sewing his mouth shut each time.

Currently, Tubbo is seriously entertaining the idea of barging into Tommy’s room and talking to him. Just as he’s thinking that he might actually gather the courage and do it, he hears Tommy’s footsteps in the hall. What’s he doing? Tubbo wonders.

He gets somewhat of an answer when the front door opens and shuts- slowly, carefully. After a few seconds of lying in bed, silent and still, Tubbo practically throws himself out of his bedroom and into the living room. He draws back the pine green curtains near the door and watches Tommy, accompanied by Walter, walk off. His sword sways in time with his steps, tucked into a sheath at the boy’s side.

Tubbo stands there for several moments, debating following or calling out to his friend when he realizes something that makes his stomach sink. Tommy has probably been going out every night instead of sleeping.

~

Wilbur wanders to his dad’s room to ask about going on a walk. It’s late, and Fundy had gone to bed hours ago, but Philza’s light is still on for once, and Wilbur doesn’t feel tired. So many nights spent reading and moping until the sun rose had smacked his sleep schedule thoroughly out of whack.

The door of his father’s bedroom is ajar, so Wilbur pokes in without knocking. “Hey, Dad, can we…” he stops midsentence. It feels as though the wind has been knocked out of him when he sees what’s sitting atop Philza’s chest of drawers. Wilbur thinks that it’s a feeling not unlike the time Tommy went a little too far with their light, wooden training swords during a practice fight.

“Is…is that…” Wilbur trails off, the question dying on his lips.

Techno’s crown.

“Yes,” his father says gently, after a moment of hesitant silence.

“Can I…can I see it for a second?” he asks. His voice sounds breathy and soft.

“Of course.”

Wilbur takes a few slow, uncertain steps over to the chest of drawers, then picks up the crown gingerly, as though he expects Techno to jump out from behind the door and yell at his brother for touching his stuff.

The crown, all elegant swoops and delicate (yet severe) points, is surprisingly light. And yet holding it makes Wilbur feel about a thousand tons heavier.

Gently, he turns the crown and holds it against his chest. The spikes only barely poke through the yellow wool of Wilbur’s sweater, but he swears they’ve all grown a foot longer and impaled him. Holding the crown, as dear as it was to his brother, Wilbur can almost imagine Techno encircling him in a protective embrace. Then, he wonders what on earth Technoblade is doing without his crown. Does it feel like a piece of him is missing, just as Wilbur feels like a piece is missing without his brother around?

Philza comes over and gently wraps an arm around his son. They stand there together and share the sorrow.

After several long moments of standing in his dad’s embrace and clutching the crown to his chest, he softly places the circlet back down on the chest of drawers, then turns to face his father. Not for the first time, Wilbur notes that Tommy had, without a shadow of a doubt, inherited their father’s bright blue eyes, while he and Techno had the same brown-almost-black shade. Phil’s eyes look sad, now, and concerned.

Wilbur slides out from under his father’s arm and grabs his hands instead, one in each of his own. He feels a little bad for what he’s about to do, but he needs Philza to understand. “I’m going to go out for a bit. I promise, I’m not going to disappear again. I just want to have a walk.”

Phil’s eyes search his son’s face, brows drawn together and lips curved into a frown. After a moment, he nods. “Okay. A promise is a promise.”

Wilbur leans forward and kisses his father’s head, then gives his hands one last squeeze before letting go and heading for the door. “A promise is a promise,” he parrots back, an old ritual.

~

Tommy goes to the docks again. The first night he’d gone to stand in the company of the sea, it had been by sheer accident. Now, he makes the short journey every night.  

When he arrives tonight, though, someone is in his spot, leaned against one of the logs lining the edge of the dock.

He recognizes the figure in half of a heartbeat. At this point, Tommy reckons he could recognize Wilbur from twelve feet away on the night of a new moon with heavy fog.

For several minutes, he stands at the edge of the dock, wondering whether he should approach or not and worrying Walter will bark and give him away before he’s decided.

Finally, Tommy pushes himself to move forward. Walter follows, uncharacteristically quiet, as though he can sense his owner’s caution and distress.

Coming up on his brother’s left side, Tommy says, “Hey, Wilbur.”

The brunette seems surprised at his appearance, though not unpleasantly so. “Oh, hello, Tommy. What are you doing out this late?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

The two stand in silence, a certain tension weighing down the air. Tommy can still sense the wall between himself and Wilbur, but it almost seems fragile- breakable. If I say the right thing, will it finally come down?

Finally, Walter just can’t take it anymore. He pushes his snoot into the back of Wilbur’s knee and starts sniffing. His tail is wagging at the speed of sound, as though he’s been shoving his energy down for the whole two minutes he and Tommy have been standing on the dock and he can’t hold it in any longer.

Wilbur emits a little, surprised noise, then smiles softly. It sends a bolt of dull pain through Tommy’s chest, reminding him of the early days of L’manburg, before they even had independence from the Dream SMP. Back then, days were hard and yet smiles were frequent- Wilbur smiled like that all the time then.

As his brother leans over and extends a hand to let Walter sniff it, he says, “I’ve been wanting to ask, who is this big guy? He resembles a cloud.”

Walter nuzzles into Wilbur’s hand, letting him pet his fluffy white coat, as though pleased by the comment.

“That’s Walter. Met him in a forest while I was away. He’s been with me for a few weeks now.”

Wilbur hums in response and continues petting the dog, squatting down to have better access to his chin.

Both boys are silent for a while, but the waves fill in for them. Tommy closes his eyes for a minute and just listens. Along with the waves, he can hear Walter’s tail patting a repetitive rhythm on the dock.

Tommy gathers his courage to ask a question. “So, why couldn’t you sleep?” he asks, turning to look at his brother.

Wilbur shrugs before answering, still petting the dog. “I screwed up my sleep schedule. I started staying up late a lot after…” he pauses, a sheen of sorrow passing over his eyes. He tries again, “After…after everything that happened. I would sit up reading and that sort of thing until I fell asleep or the sun came out. Worried the hell out of Dad.”

Tommy almost laughs at that. Almost.

After a pause, Wilbur continues, “I’ve done a lot of things to worry Dad these last few months.” He draws his eyebrows together a little. His eyes have become fixed on the dog’s snowy face. “I talked to them yesterday, though. Dad and Fundy, I mean. I apologized for everything. I put them through so much and I want to fix it now. I’m going to start doing better for them, they deserve it.”

Tommy isn’t quite sure what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything at all. But the wall cracks.

Wilbur lets out a half-amused, half-sad laugh. “You’d never believe who talked some sense into me. Just try to guess.” Finally, he meets Tommy’s eyes.

It throws Tommy off balance for just a second. Wilbur is smiling properly now, despite the remnants of sadness that cling to his features. When was the last time Wilbur had smiled at him? Or at least, smiled at him whilst not talking about blowing up their country.  

It takes the younger brother a moment to recover. He shrugs awkwardly and stammers out, “I-I don’t know. Who?”

Wilbur smiles a little wider. “Eret. Out of all people, Eret.”

Tommy can’t suppress a slight smile at that. It is a little funny. He turns to look at the ocean. If he keeps looking at Wilbur, smiling with him, it might blow his brain up. “That’s kind of crazy. How’d that happen?”

There’s silence again. It takes all of Tommy’s willpower to not look at his older brother in the few seconds of quiet before he answers. Softly, Wilbur says, “Things were rough with Fundy and I had nowhere else to go.”

Six words steal the breath from Tommy’s lungs. It’s a harsh reminder of how much things have changed. It makes Tommy miss easier times- even before L’manburg. He would give nearly anything to go back to a time when his biggest concern was how many practice fights he’d won against his brothers and whether Dad was making his least favorite vegetables with dinner that night. Back then, there was never even the trace of a doubt that if Tommy, or anyone in his family, needed something, there were four people that cared within arm’s reach.  

Wilbur stands back up, leaning against a log next to Tommy again, and they watch the waves together. Although he would like to appreciate the moment of peace with his brother, he can’t. Tommy can still feel the wall there, in disrepair yet still looming between them. It makes his stomach twist with nerves and muddles his brain with so many thoughts and emotions, he worries it’ll all overflow out of his ears.

“So, why couldn’t you sleep, Tommy?”

Because of you, Tommy thinks. He almost says it, too. But it wouldn’t quite be the truth. There were several reasons he couldn’t sleep- several figures that plagued his thoughts. There are multiple possible answers, so Tommy picks the easiest one to talk about. (The easiest one to talk about with Wilbur, at least.)

“Tubbo and I are in a bit of a rut.”

He can feel the surprise emanating off of his brother. “Really?” The brunette nearly shouts, sounding utterly shocked.

“Yeah. Things have just been…I don’t know, different, I guess, since I came back. I left to clear my head and it worked but as soon as I came back everything poured straight back in again. Just being here makes me remember so much. I can’t turn a corner without something reminding me of what’s happened and everything I’ve been through- everything we’ve all been through.” Tommy is a little out of breath by the time he’s done talking. Emotion had slipped into his voice, anger and grief mingling on his vocal cords. It’d made him speed up about halfway through speaking, shoving the words out like it hurt to have them inside of him.

“Am I one of the things you’re remembering, Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice is impossibly gentle.

Shit. Tommy quickly tries to think up a response that’ll save him from this vein of conversation.

“Don’t bother lying to me, Tommy. We lived under the same roof for the first fifteen years of your life and we haven’t lived more than twenty feet from one another since. I know your tells. Just answer the question.”

He’s right, but Tommy wishes he wasn’t. He had come out here to avoid his feelings, not confront them.

“Yes, you are one of the things.”

It’s Wilbur’s turn to be silent. They seem to be passing it between them, like a ball in the worst game of catch ever.  

Then, the brunette says, “I’m sorry.”

Tommy’s whole body freezes, making him completely still. He almost forgets to breathe.

“I put you through so much. When things got rough before we took down Schlatt, I went all crazy plans and TNT on you. That wasn’t fair. You were- you are- just a kid and I’m your big brother. I should’ve been there for you; I should’ve been a better role model. If nothing else, I should’ve at least protected you. I am truly sorry for how bad things got. I feel awful.”

They don’t make eye contact once while Wilbur speaks, they just stare out into the fluid blue void together.

Tommy’s eyes sting. A part of him wants to scream at Wilbur, another wants to break down and cry, and yet another begs Tommy’s legs to run.

An apology doesn’t fix all the damage Wilbur did, doesn’t even come near it. But…

“Thanks, Wilbur.”

It’s a start.

Neither of them speak for a while.  Then, tentatively, almost like dipping a foot into a pool of water to check the temperature, Tommy says, “Techno, too.”

“What?” Feeling Wilbur’s gaze on him, he turns to look at his brother. The man’s eyebrows are pulled up in confusion and the corners of his mouth dip in a slight frown.

“I’m remembering Techno, too.”

Wilbur’s mouth forms a silent “oh.” Then, he glances down at the log Tommy is leaning against. He swaps between pressing his lips tightly together and opening his mouth to take a breath. Like he’s trying to decide whether to say something.

“Spit it out,” Tommy says, adding a silent “bitch” to the end. He doesn’t want to go back to their normal rhythm of fake insults, not yet.

“Dad has Technoblade’s crown. I saw it. I- I held it.” Wilbur looks up at Tommy again, eyes flitting over his face nervously, as though searching for any sign he messed up.

Tommy’s mouth hangs open. He’s shocked speechless. Then, a little jealous. Never, in a million years, would Techno ever let Tommy, or anyone, come near that crown. It was the eldest brother’s most prized possession. He kept it in excellent condition and never went anywhere without it. And Wilbur had gotten to hold it.

The brunette, seeming to know what he’s thinking, lets out a short laugh. “I know, right? He would murder me if he found out.”

Tommy snorts. “Damn right. You wouldn’t even see it coming. Just a flash of pink and then game over.”

They both laugh at that. Smiles adorn their faces, but it’s bittersweet. A cloud of something dense and sad hangs around them, reminding the brothers that they are still so far from where they used to be. They might never really go back to how things were between them, either.

And yet there’s a light hope, too, interwoven with the sadness. The possibility of their relationship, at the very least, getting better. If they just keep trying and want it badly enough.

There is so much more to be said. So many big things they still need to talk about. But, for now, they discuss all the little things they never got to say while they weren’t speaking to each other. And it feels as though the wall is filled with hundreds and hundreds of cracks, leaving Tommy with little holes to peek through.

~

The brunette stirs from his position on the couch, half-asleep and spine curved uncomfortably, when he hears the front door open. He blinks his eyes sleepily at first, wondering what’s happening, then scrambles to sit up properly when he remembers what he was doing before falling asleep. Tommy.

The boy has come home, finally. Walter trots off to the guest room, but the blond stands in the doorway, stopped in place halfway through the threshold. He looks surprised.

“What time is it?” Tubbo asks, stretching.

Tommy moves again, walking the rest of the way into the house and softly shutting the spruce door behind him. He doesn’t answer his friend’s question, instead asking one of his own. “Did you try waiting up for me?”

The president rubs his eyes, the rough sleep in the corners scratching at his fingertips. “Yeah, keyword being try. I figured I would let you have your walk or whatever, but I was worried. Have you been doing this every night?”

Tommy turns his gaze to the floor. He’s silent.

“Tommy,” Tubbo prompts.

The blond sighs and says, “Yeah, Tubbo. I- I have.”

“Why?”

Silence again.

It suddenly all becomes too much for Tubbo. He’s done his best to stay collected these past few days, giving Tommy the space he needs to process, but he can’t handle it anymore. Before he can stop it, all of the worry and frustration and sadness fills him up, driving him up off the couch to stand. The sudden movement causes Tommy to look up at him again.

“Tommy, please!” The shorter boy gestures wildly while he talks, emotions taking the driver’s seat. “I’ve been so insanely worried about you these past few days- this past month. I want more than anything to help you, Tommy. You are one of the most important things in my life. During the war against Manberg, I would’ve up and left everything if you had asked. I know I’m not one of Phil’s sons but you, Tommy, are the closest I will ever be to having a brother. Please, talk to me.” His voice catches a little as he speaks, his eyes stinging with the threat of tears.

Tommy looks a little shaken, and sort of guilty, which makes Tubbo feel guilty in turn. He hadn’t meant to snap at him like that. He just wanted Tommy to confide in him again like he always used to. He opens his mouth to speak again, to apologize, but Tommy interrupts him.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo.”

The other boy slowly closes his mouth, the words caught in his throat. He has no idea what to say, so he opts for silence instead.

Tommy crosses the room in a few quick strides and grabs Tubbo’s elbow as he begins to speak, gently pulling the boy to sit on the couch with him. “I’ve been weird since I got back, I know. Being here reminded me of everything we lost. And I do mean everything.” The blond’s eyes drop to his lap as he squeezes his hands together.  

“It kills me how things ended with Techno,” he continues, “the way we treated him. It’s so easy to label him as a traitor and be done with it but I know, I know, it’s not as simple as that. And just the fact that he’s gone and we might not see him again. I…” He trails off for a moment, squeezing his hands harder, making the knuckles turn white. A pang shoots through Tubbo’s chest. After so long with Technoblade in his life, the notion that they might never see him again seems insane. But after everything that had happened, it was a probable reality.

Tommy takes a deep breath and continues, “And Wilbur has felt like a completely different person for so long. When he started getting paranoid, back in Pogtopia, I had to watch him forget what we were fighting for. He might as well have left me alone, and he was the adult! My big brother meant to watch over me. Even after we’d won back L’manburg, it felt like I had lost. I was down two brothers and I had no idea how to get either of them back. It hurt- it still does. It hurts so, so much, Tubbo. But as much as it’s hurt to be back in L’manburg and remember all of it, I think I needed it.”  

He looks back up at Tubbo again. His bright, blue eyes are so full of emotion, it sends a shock through the brunette’s gut.

Tommy saves him from responding by going on. “I think I needed to see it all and accept what happened and accept that people have started moving on. It’s time that I start moving on, too.” There’s a brief pause and the boy’s mouth hangs open for an instant, as though considering whether or not to say something. “I- I spoke with Wilbur earlier.”

Tubbo is still trying to process all the words Tommy just threw at him, like catching one hundred balls in quick succession. Just as Tubbo thought he had a handle on it, Tommy throws that one final, larger, flaming ball at him.

The brunette manages to avoid stammering and asks, “What did you speak about?” The question comes out gentler than he intended, laced with a certain inquisitiveness.

“How we miss Techno, how he’s sorry what he put me through. He told me about Fundy and Dad, too. He said he’s trying to be present again and be there for them. It really seems like the Wilbur I followed into war is coming back. And I think that’s a version of Wilbur I can forgive one day.”

There’s a beat of silence and before Tubbo can speak again, Tommy says, “I really am sorry, Tubbo. I should’ve been more transparent with you. I guess I just didn’t want to bother you with my problems. But that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry for worrying you. No more sneaking down to the docks every night, I promise.”

Tubbo smiles a little. “Pinky promise?”

Tommy looks down at his friend’s extended finger and wraps his own around it. “Yeah, pinky promise.”

“Good.” Tubbo settles back onto the couch, and Tommy follows suit. Now that everything has been said and taken care of, the late hour is catching up with them. They end up with Tubbo leaning over so his head is resting on Tommy’s chest, neither realizing that their pinky fingers are still lazily looped together between them. Tubbo vaguely notices that he can hear the steady beat of his friend’s heart.

“And Tubbo?”

The brunette, eyes closed, fights off sleep to hear his friend’s words. “What is it, Tommy?”

“I think of you as my brother, too. I love you.”

Tubbo smiles, a warm glow spilling into his chest. It makes him feel all fuzzy and warm- and happy. He inhales and exhales slowly, appreciating the moment. “Love you too, Tommy,” he says.

Tubbo lets sleep consume him, then, feeling happier than he has in a month.

‘

You can also read this on Ao3! | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed! <3

[bopinion]

2020 / 47

Aperçu of the week:

I dissent! (Ruth Bader Ginsburg)

Bad news of the week:

Why am I actually surprised? It was clear that Donald Trump would fight against an unfavorable election outcome for him. It is well known that the Republicans are bad losers, since they know that they are simply entitled to the political leadership of the USA. It was foreseeable that loudspeakers like Rudolph Giuliani or Tucker Carlson would now finally, albeit invisibly, think they had evidence of an anti-American conspiracy in their hands. It was to be expected that disappointed voters of a defeated demagogue would take to the streets to demand their own version of the truth as reality.

None of this comes as a surprise. But the Republican establishment's stupid adherence to Trumpism does. It was clear that the two "sons by profession" Donald Junior and Eric, or various Fox News presenters, lacked insight in their public statements. But Mike Pompeo, Mitch McConnell, Lindsey Graham, etc. are coldly calculating, lying opportunists - but they are certainly not stupid. Why do they hold on to something that should go down in the history books of American politics as an absurd episode, but not as the beginning of a new era? Are they really looking for the perspective salvation of their "Grand Old Party" on the horrifying aberrations of the last four years?

The first week after election day I was shocked that (almost) half a democratic nation voted for an autocrat - this time with a sighted eye. The second current week I am shocked at how the Republican establishment is lacking in identity and standing. I remember how, at the beginning of the pre-election campaign, practically all the party's officials made disparaging remarks about this self-centered, ignorant newcomer to politics, who seriously thought he could lead this proud party. Level of mental disorientation: about 10%. Then he actually won the ticket and one had to stand behind him in the name of the greater good, he would lose and one could soon forget this abnormality. Level of mental disorientation: above 25%. Then he triumphed over Hillary Clinton and you rubbed your eyes in amazement, would contain him confidently ("The office is stronger than the person") and make the best of it, the main thing was that you were back in power. Level of mental disorientation: well over 50%. Then this guy turned out to be a lazy and unteachable tyrant, raging in the staff tableau and on Twitter, not giving a damn about responsibilities and "checks and balances," confusing official authority with personal loyalty, pushing allies and partners to the side in favor of dictators, and isolating himself and his country in international politics, lost the midterm elections and his approval ratings dropped, proved incapable and unwilling to face any social challenge - and he was allowed to continue and simply waved him through as a presidential candidate. Level of mental disorientation: a good 90 %. Then he polarized worse than ever, dismantled state institutions, slandered political competitors, lost the Popular vote and the Electoral College, refused to recognize them, and there is talk of electoral fraud, dreams of a second term in office, and at least expects to run with him again in 2024. Excuse me? Where do we stand now? At over 100%?

Of course, you can change your political positions over many years, even revise them. One makes compromises and forges appropriate and timely coalitions of convenience. In a classic party career, you not only gain political experience, but also companions - in negative terms, dependencies. Nothing welds people together like a common corpse in the cellar. But you never lose your ideals, you have to stand for something. Actually, there are only two possible interpretations of this distortion of reality, which is in principle incomprehensible. Either there is a secret master plan, which I simply haven't understood yet. Or the Republicans are now showing their true face. And that would be a pretty ugly one.

Good news of the week:

It used to be called hocus-pocus or abracadabra before the rabbit was pulled out of the cylinder. The current magic word is BNT162b2. The biotechnology start-up BioNTech from Mainz, Germany, seems to have succeeded, coupled with the resources and market power of Pfizer, the second largest pharmaceutical company in the world, in developing a truly highly effective vaccine against the coronavirus with hardly any side effects. What is fascinating for the amateur is that the vaccine is not, as it is usually the case, a miniature version of a pathogen that tricks the body into believing that it is diseased so that it can produce antibodies against it. Rather, a messenger substance consisting of ribonucleic acid building blocks simply tells the corresponding cells what to do without any detours. Sounds so simple that one almost has to ask oneself why nobody has thought of it so far.

Now follows the fireworks of stock market explosions, interpretative sovereignty and false laurels that are common in breakthroughs. Donald Trump, for example, claims that the new vaccine is due exclusively to his "Operation Warp Speed", although the decisive interim financing came from the German government. And Pfizer too has somehow forgotten that they just jumped on a moving train, but maybe the PR department just doesn't know that. Anyway, it's the result that counts.

Really? Of course it is to be welcomed that there seems to be an effective remedy against the current scourge of mankind soon. At least if the final test series are positive and the relevant authorities carry out their market approval procedures meticulously but please quickly. But the really good news of the week for me is a different one, namely the development of BioNTech itself.

The two founders and masterminds of the company are not only a married couple, but also the children of Turkish migrants. That has rolemodel character in society. And with private venture capital (which, by the way, came mainly from two entrepreneurs in our district) and public funding, they succeeded in bringing an innovative flash of inspiration to market maturity. And not in Silicon Valley, but in the German province, where - typically German - you actually only get a loan when you can prove that you don't need it. In this country, "venture" is associated more with recklessness and risk than with the spirit of research and opportunities. This has rolemodel character in economis. If neither of these things turns out to be the exception, but rather a paradigm shift, I look forward to the future of the "old continent" with much more basic confidence. Yes, we can (also).

Sense of achievement of the week:

Ten weeks ago (2020/37) I wrote about the problem of nuclear waste. For which there is simply no solution. And now I get three answers yesterday. All three from the same sender: "Nuclear for Future". The name is program, of course. With a few empty Phrasen, it is explained that renewable energy is not yet sufficiently available and that nuclear energy is better than fossil fuels. Well, then I know now... ;-)

The great thing about it is that I seem to have been targeted by lobbyists. Some PR professional gives me the relevance to invest work in me. Even though it's only a few clicks for copy and paste, it makes me a little proud. And is my sense of achievement of the week.

By the way: yesterday was Friday the 13th - what a timing!

[raisingsupergirl]

I Didn't Vote

Yep, you heard it right. On 11/3/20, I didn't go anywhere near the polls. I woke up, went to work, went home, and went to bed. Sure, I'd had a long day, but I certainly had a chance to swing by and punch my ticket. I thought about doing it. From the time I woke up I thought about it. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it, and I didn't really know why. Even the next day I couldn't figure it out. And I've been mulling it over since then. I still don't have a satisfying reason, but at least I have a reason. Actually, I have several.

Okay, let's get this out of the way. My first reason for not voting is ignorance. No, not on the part of the political candidates, or social media, or you. I didn't vote because I'm ignorant. I know so little about the two old guys (and there was a woman, too, right? That third-party so-and-so?) fighting to "rule" our country. Here's what I do know… First, Trump: He's filthy rich. He owns some companies (honestly couldn't tell you which ones). He had a TV show (can't remember the name) and a tower. He has been our president for the past four years, and he did some things that veterans and conservatives like (I can't tell you with certainty even one thing that he's responsible for changing). He's a republican, but I think he used to be a democrat. I also think his wife's name is Ivanka, he has a daughter, and his VP is Mike Pence. Lastly, people either love him or hate him, which has only further divided our nation. He comes off at different times as a megalomaniac, a bully, and an idiot (though he may not be any of those things. Who knows?). He has no filter, he has Twitter, and he claims that everyone else is out to lie, steal, and cheat to make him look bad, which is ironic, because his ridiculous hair does that all on its own. And now on to the other guy.

I actually forget Joe Biden's name a lot. I want to call him Pence or Kerry or even McCain. Seriously, though that's not saying much. I'm horrible with names. But I also forget what he looks like. When I think about him, all I see is Jim Carrey. Oh! That must be why I tend to call him Kerry in my head. Silly me. Now… what about him? He's a lifetime politician, he's democrat, and he's really old. I know that much. And his running mate is a woman, I think. Seems like he's probably going to be our next president based on the Electoral College, but I couldn't tell you with confidence what that means. And that's about it. Honestly, I don't know anymore than that.

But why don't I know more? Am I dumb? Well… I don't think so. I received a master's degree over a decade ago (with honors, no less), and I like to think I've only grown smarter and wiser since then. I love learning new things—ideas, talents, how things work. But one of those things just isn't politics. So, the second reason I didn't vote is disinterest (I'm racking up quite a compelling argument, I know). I've written about how I don't have a passion for BLM even though I think it's a worthy cause. And I think the main reason is because it falls under the "politics" umbrella in my mind. Too many people with too many emotions and not enough listening. I just don't have the stomach for it. I would rather spend my one life changing the world one person at a time. I'd rather show love to my neighbor (as a Christian), fix someone's knee pain (as a physical therapist), and help other people get their ideas across clearer (as an editor). And, if I'm being honest, all of the doom saying just doesn't scare me. I'm a country boy at heart, and I have simple needs. My family is small, and I have a cabin in the woods. I was sad when Y2K didn't happen. I love individual people, but I'm not a big fan of society. In large groups, people are mean and naïve. And so, fear just doesn't enter into the equation for me. Life is so much bigger than what the marketing campaigns claim.

If you haven't caught on yet, I'm a bit of a skeptic. I don't know if I was born that way, but I became aware of it in college. I didn't particularly like my research classes, but I loved learning how to read scientific articles. Specifically, I love learning how to recognize BS (Biased Science, that is…). I have a knack for seeing through it in any situation. I can generally tell when people are lying, and even though I don't know everything, I do understand concepts, theories, and ideas better than the average person. And like Aristotle (and Plato), I'm keenly aware of my own ignorance as well as that of others. I see how people embrace sensationalized "fake news" and assume causality just because of correlation. Everyone does it. I do it. But I'm aware of it. I'm aware of social media algorithms, of herd mentality, of confirmation bias. And so, the third reason I didn't vote is because I assume everyone is either lying or buying into lies (lying and bullying are my two biggest pet peeves, by the way). And we've already established that I don't have the time or the energy (or the mental capacity) to learn the truth of every political topic and use those truths to set everyone straight. But hey, at least I'm honest…

Remember when I said earlier that fear didn't factor into the equation for me? Yeah, obviously that’s not true. I mean, sure, I'm not afraid of societal collapse or the end of the world. But I'm obviously afraid of being wrong. We've established that I don't know much about Trump or Kerr—er… Biden. That I'm ignorant about politics, in general. And we know that I'm a skeptic—that I have to come to my own conclusions. And most of the time that looks like stubbornness. I hate being told what to do. I hate being micromanaged. I hate the virus on my computer that sets Bing as my default search engine instead of Google. I hate the alarm on my wife's van that makes me wear my seat belt. And I hate the Facebook banners that keep telling me it's my duty to vote. I'm a grown boy. I can make those decisions all on my own. And I will not blindly trust a random source with dubious intentions to make those decisions for me. And, as much as I love my friends, I don't buy their claims that it's my duty to vote, either. Countless brave men and women did not die for my DUTY to vote. They died for my freedom to do so. Same as my freedom to be a Christian. Which means I'm also free to NOT vote.

But why wouldn't I WANT to vote? Because I'm afraid of whom I would have voted for. I'm aware of where I live and what my local culture thinks. In short, I voted for Trump last time, and I probably would have voted for him this time. And I couldn't stomach that thought (side note: I do have one regret, and that’s not voting local. I do know people personally who were running for office--as well as local bills--but I missed the opportunity to vote on things that I DO know about because of my fear of voting for the “wrong” president). It’s not that I doubted that Trump would do positive things while in office (even though, as I said, I'm not sure what he actually did the past four years…), but I'm just so tired of everybody acting insane. There's a reason I don't have cable. There's a reason I only get on social media to post pictures and check my notifications. And while I don't buy into all the sensationalism claiming the president has ultimate power, I do believe that he has a microphone. And a Twitter account. And even though our government is based on checks and balances, our media definitely isn't. If Biden is, in fact, our president for the next four years, my only hope is that he'll keep his mouth shut.

Okay, everyone's mad at me now. And that's okay. I put myself out there. I was honest about my ignorance, my bias, and my fear, which is more than I can say about most other people (presidents included). And maybe my honesty will compel others (you?) to reevaluate the "truths" they (you?) assume are self-evident. It's taken me four years, but I finally understand what "Make America Great Again" means. What would it take for our country to be great? Accountability. That's it. If every man, woman, and child did everything possible to give back to our country, we WOULD be great. If we worked hard to repair crumbling buildings, if we painted breathtaking murals, if we learned classical philosophy and used it shape our thoughts, if we refused to blame someone else for our unhappiness, if we did everything in our INDIVIDUAL power to contribute to the greater whole, if we truly loved our neighbors and gave them the shirt off of our back regardless of their political leanings… THAT would make us great. Right now, we're all so divided. We're all so afraid and easily manipulated. I've chosen to put my time and energy into things "smaller" than politics, but that doesn't mean I don't care about the future of my country. Quite the opposite, in fact. And hopefully, when I'm dead and gone, my tombstone won't read, "The guy who didn't vote in the 2020 presidential election."

[tigerkirby215]

5e Senna the Redeemer build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Riot Games)

Friendship ended with Xayah and Rakan; Senna and Lucian new best LoL couple.

I really don’t have much to say on why I wanted to make a Senna build other than “she’s cool and Lucian has best girl.” But seriously can we talk about how hype Senna’s release was? Lucian was fighting for SIX YEARS to get his wife back and then... he did. Senna’s trailer honestly made me shed a tear I felt so happy for the guy.

GOALS

Light - Senna is the redeemer of lost souls, and fights along with Lucian in Sentinels of Light. Naturally she needs some divine Damacian protection at her side.

And Darkness - Her time in the lantern has given Senna some lasting changes. She can turn into a screaming cloud, among other things.

Be free... - Senna seeks to set the lost souls of the Shadow Isles free, and also uses her powers of light and darkness to keep her allies alive.

RACE

Senna is a human but all that time in Thresh’s lantern has changed her quite a bit. Normally I’d just go for a Variant Human but I thought we should spice things up a bit: the Mark of Finding from Eberron is perfect for a Survivalist who spent their life running through a soul-filled lantern. Your Wisdom score increases by 2 and your Constitution score increases by 1, and unlike most humans you start with a Darkvision of 60 feet from all the time you spent in the darkness of a... lantern. Thresh you want to fix the light in there?

But the main skill you gained in there was Hunter’s Intuition. If you roll a Perception or Survival check you can add a d4 to the roll: note that this does stack with spells like Guidance for quite a bit of insurance when trying to spot a lost soul or survive in a realm full of them.

You also get access to Finder’s Magic which just gives you a big ol’ list of spells along with some innate spellcasting. I’ll cover all the spells you get when you’re at a level to cast them in the build. You also know Common as well as Goblin. "Yeah, I met someone in there. He's a ghoul goblin. We fell in love and made ghoul goblin babies..."

If your DM doesn’t allow Eberron: Feel free to play a Variant Human. Increase your Dexterity and Wisdom by 1. Take any skill you want (I’d argue Religion would be in-character) as well as any language you want and take the Sharpshooter feat for more accurate shots with your relic cannon.

Also for whatever reason the Spells of the Mark don’t appear on the D&D Beyond virtual character sheet, so I’ve elected to not mention them in this build.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - Running all your life from the terrors in the mist takes a lot of dodging skill, and while that Relic Cannon might weigh a lot it takes Dexterity to aim it.

14; WISDOM - To fight with both the light and dark you don’t need brains; you need sympathy.

13; CONSTITUTION - Senna herself says that The Mist is like you’re drowning. You ever held your breath for 6 years? I don’t think so. Also this is mainly to balance the +1 to CON from Mark of Finding.

12; INTELLIGENCE - You’re the brains of the operation, even if Lucian doesn’t want to admit it.

10; CHARISMA - Senna is best described as “rough around the edges.”

8; STRENGTH - Even though your Relic Cannon weighs a ton I’ll chock that up to the Curse of the Black Mist more than Senna’s actual upper body strength.

BACKGROUND

Even at a young age Senna was corrupted by the Black Mist, and the Haunted One background from Curse of Strahd is for those with a dark past. You choose 2 proficencies from the listed skills: take Religion and Survival for training both as a Sentinel of Light and as a survivor of the Shadow Isles. You also get one exotic language and while I always suggest to take what you think will be useful Deep Speech is likely the most common language of the creatures of the mist.

As a Haunted One you get a Heart of Darkness. A look into your green eyes will reveal a tragic past, and will influence the local priest to help you and possibly hook you up with his son. Commoners will be able to tell that you have a tragic past and will do anything to help you, even helping you fight if your old warden corners you when you’re alone.

(Artwork by Paul Nong)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - CLERIC 1

Senna started out as a Sentinel of the Light, which means that we’ll be starting off with Cleric. (Truth is that we’re mainly doing this for Saving Throws.) Clerics get proficiency in two skills from the Cleric list: choose Medicine for sure along with any of the other skills on the list: they’re all in character for Senna. (I personally opted for Insight.)

But unlike most subclasses Clerics get to choose their archetype at first level and Grave Domain Clerics fight for the dead and the living. Grave Domain Clerics are part of the Circle of Mortality: if you cast a healing spell on a target with 0 hitpoints they are automatically healed the maximum amount, and you get the Spare the Dying cantrip with an extended range of 30 feet. Spare those whose souls have already been lost, and keep those on the brink of death alive for the fight to come.

Your training as a Sentinel of the Light also lets you see what needs to be purified with Eyes of the Grave. You can use an action to detect any undead within 60 feet until the end of your next turn. You can’t sense them if they’re behind total cover or are protected from divination magic, and you know nothing about them other than the fact that they exist. You can use it a number of times equal to your Wisdom modifier and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

But Clerics get Spellcasting and... woo boy there’s a lot to say here. Let’s take it from the top!

Mark of Finding Humans get Finder’s Magic, allowing them to cast Hunter’s Mark once per Long Rest.

Death Domain Clerics have the Bane and False Life spells always prepared.

You get 3 cantrips at level 1: Guidance lets you help Lucian with his dashes or his taxes, Light lets you provide a light in the darkness (duh), and Thaumaturgy lets you use the Curse of the Black Mist to do some spooky things. (Read the spell for the full list of effects.)

Finally you can prepare 4 spells at this level: Healing Word will let you quickly pop a heal at range with Piercing Darkness, Shield of Faith will let you shield your husband from a warden’s hook, Guiding Bolt will let you mark an enemy for your allies to assist with, and Protection from Evil and Good will protect any Purifiers while they try to save you.

Clerics get to prepare their spell list daily so be sure to swap your spells out for what you need: I’m just making suggestions.

IF USING CLASS FEATURE VARIANTS UA: Cause Fear is very in-flavor for Senna but is unfortunately restricted to the Class Feature Variants UA, so only take it if you’re allowed.

But remember that Clerics are prepared spellcasters, meaning that you can swap out your spells at the end of a Long Rest. I’m just picking the spells that are the most in-character for Senna but you’re more than welcome to choose something you think will be more practical.

Oh and as far as Senna’s Relic Cannon goes: at this level you can only use a Light Crossbow, but we’ll get the option to use something heavier soon enough.

LEVEL 2 - CLERIC 2

Level 2 Clerics can Channel Divinity for the light of Demacia aid them. All Clerics can Turn Undead to force undead to make a Wisdom save or run from the reconning. Grave Clerics can also mark a target with Path to the Grave, giving them a Last Embrace and vulnerability to the next shot fired at them. Light them up so Lucian can shoot them down! You can use your Channel Divinity once between short rests.

IF USING CLASS FEATURE VARIANTS UA: You can also use your Channel Divinity to Harness Divine Power, getting back a level 1 spell slot as a bonus action. It’s not much but it’s certainly something.

You can also prepare another spell like Detect Magic to know if anything is hidden in the mist, and if that spider really is a spider.

LEVEL 3 - RANGER 1

Hopping over to Ranger to learn how to shoot a Relic Cannon! Firstly you gain Martial weapon proficiency as a Ranger which will let you swap out the Light Crossbow for a Heavy Crossbow to replicate the Relic Cannon flavor. But more importantly you get another skill proficiency from the Ranger list and the Athletics skill will help make up for your low Strength score.

You also get a Favored Enemy: obviously you’ll be fighting Undead with your husband’s help. You have Advantage to track or remember information on your Favored Enemy. You also get another language and I’d recommend picking whatever’s useful.

You’re also a Natural Explorer in your favored terrain and I’d argue that the Shadow Isles are a Swamp of sorts. You get a bunch of advantages while traveling through your favored terrain which I recommend you read on your own time.

Of course mind you that these are just suggestions for these features: remember that Ranger is a class you have work with your DM in order to get maximum value out of them. Talk to them about what you’re going to fight and where you’ll be: Senna can shoot Galio just as well as Thresh.

IF USING CLASS FEATURES UA: Natural Explorer is replaced with Deft Explorer - I recommend the Canny feature for more help your husband out some more. Take the Perception skill and Expertise in either Medicine or Survival to keep fighting on the Shadow Isles.

Favored Enemy is also replaced with Favored Foe: you can cast Hunter’s Mark a number of times equal to your Wisdom modifier and don’t need to concentrate on the spell. These uses of Hunter’s Mark come back on a Long Rest just like your class feature Hunter’s Mark, so I’d suggest saving them for when you need to concentrate on something else but still dish out extra damage.

In addition 3rd level Humans with the Mark of Finding can cast Locate Object without using a spell slot once per long rest, so if you need to find a giant stone gun or a lantern you won’t have any trouble finding it.

LEVEL 4 - RANGER 2

Second level Rangers get a Fighting Style and while Archery may imply the use of a bow it works just as well for aiming a giant hunk of lightstone with a +2 chance to hit.

You also get access to Ranger spells at level 2: Zephyr Strike speeds you up for Absolution, letting you avoid Attacks of Opportunity when you move. In addition you can give yourself Advantage on an attack roll, ending the spell to increase your damage with 1d8 Force and giving you 30 feet of additional movement speed for the turn.

Hunter’s Mark meanwhile is likely a spell you’ve gotten used to since it’s part of your race: you can mark a target to a d6 extra damage to them and have Advantage to track them. You can move the mark to someone else within 90 feet of you if the original target dies.

LEVEL 5 - RANGER 3

At level 3 you get to choose your Ranger Conclave and Gloom Stalker is perfect for those that spend their life running from the mist. You get Umbral Sight which increases your Darkvision by 30 feet and helps you hide in the mist, making you invisible to any creature with Darkvision if you’re standing in darkness. You also get Dread Ambusher: you have a bonus to your initiative equal to your Wisdom modifier and during the first turn of combat your walking speed increases by 10 feet. In addition you can attack twice on your first turn, and your second attack will do an extra d8 of damage. Just a reminder that technically you can’t attack twice with your Heavy Crossbow, but if you have a nice DM or an Artificer willing to lend you a Repeating Crossbow it is fine. Alternatively you can just use a Longbow and reflavor it as a Relic Cannon.

You also get Primeval Awareness, letting you use a spell slot to detect if there are any aberrations, celestials, dragons, elementals, fey, fiends, or undead within 1 mile of you. Or alternatively you can use Primal Awareness to get access to some innate spells. I suggest looking at the Class Feature Variants UA for a list of the spells you can cast with Primal Awareness.

You also get access to the Disguise Self spell for free along with one new spell of your choice: take Ensnaring Strike to lock your enemies down with Last Embrace. “One last breath...”

LEVEL 6 - RANGER 4

4th level Rangers get an Ability Score Improvement and seeing as our Dexterity score is uneven grab the Resilient Feat for Dexterity for proficiency in DEX saving throws and an increase to your DEX modifier.

WHY NOT ANOTHER FEAT? - The only other Feat that increases Dexterity which would be useful for us is Athlete, which isn’t too important for a ranged build.

(Artwork found on lol.gamepedia)

LEVEL 7 - RANGER 5

5th level Rangers get an Extra Attack. Note that if you’re still using the Heavy Crossbow you can only attack once per round, which does mean that you can’t use Dread Ambusher or your second attack with RAW. What I’m saying is even though a Heavy Crossbow makes more sense in-character it would probably be better for the build if you used a Longbow instead.

You also get access to second level Ranger spells at 5th level. Gloom Stalkers know the spell Rope Trick innately so you can climb back into the lantern for safety... I don’t think the lantern is safe. Take Spike Growth for some more misty spikes to slow down your foes.

LEVEL 8 - RANGER 6

6th level Rangers get another Favored Enemy and Favored Terrain from Natural Explorer. Again feel free to metagame with your DM and ask them what to pick, or alternatively take the Tireless feature from the Deft Explorer Class Feature Variant so you can keep running even if you’re hit by Exhaust... both the summoner spell and the D&D debuff!

LEVEL 9 - RANGER 7

7th level Gloomstalkers get Iron Mind, giving them proficiency in Wisdom saves... but if you didn’t notice we already have proficiency in Wisdom saves, and since our other two options are either Charisma (which we have) or Intelligence go for proficiency in Intelligence saves instead. Isn’t it great when everything works out?

You can also learn another Ranger spell and Healing Spirit lets you summon a friendly Mistwraith to heal your allies. Whenever a creature moves through the spirit’s space they heal a d6 of health, and you can move the spirit up to 30 feet on your turn as a bonus action.

LEVEL 10 - RANGER 8

8th level Rangers get another Ability Score Improvement: increase your Dexterity again for better accuracy and more damage with your Relic Cannon. You also get Land’s Stride which lets you ignore the plants of the Shadow Isles and gives you advantage to get past magical plants that are trying to stop you.

LEVEL 11 - CLERIC 3

Now that we can fight with the darkness it’s time to fight with the light. 3rd level Clerics get access to second level spells like Blindness/Deafness to hide your allies in the mist... against one enemy. Still useful to get the jump on them.

You also innately know the Gentle Repose spell as well as Ray of Enfeeblement. Keep Lucian away from Thresh by Exhausting him if he comes close!

LEVEL 12 - CLERIC 4

4th level Clerics get another Ability Score Improvement: cap your Dexterity for maximum accuracy and saving throws with your Relic Cannon.

You also get another spell and another cantrip: Word of Radiance lets you shout “DEMACIA!” to force enemies close to you to make a Constitution saving throw or take Radiant damage. Hold Person (once again) lets you send out a Last Embrace to hold your foes down for your allies to take care of them.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 13 - CLERIC 5

5th level Clerics can Destroy Undead with their Turn Undead feature if the undead is of CR 1/2 or lower.

You also get access to 3rd level spells: Bestow Curse lets you bestow the Curse of the Black Mist on an enemy granting a bunch of effects which you can read on the spell list. In addition Grave Clerics always have the Revivify and Vampiric Touch spells prepared, so you can repay your husband for saving you before screeching at those who’d take him from you.

LEVEL 14 - CLERIC 6

6th level Clerics get another use of their Channel Divinity for more undead destruction and more marks for your allies. Additionally Grave Clerics get Sentinel at Death’s Door, allowing them to negate a critical hit on an ally. Fire off Dawning Shadow to shield Lucian. “For the light.” “And all lost in darkness.”

You also get another spell and Mass Healing Word lets you hit a multi-person Piercing Darkness.

LEVEL 15 - CLERIC 7

7th level Grave Clerics get access to 4th level spells. As a Grave Cleric you know the Blight and Death Ward spells innately, letting your enemies wither away in the mist and your allies survive even the toughest blow.

For your spell of choice choose Banishment to send the shadows back from once they came.

LEVEL 16 - CLERIC 8

8th level classes get another Ability Score Improvement: increase your Wisdom to get into the fight faster and improve your spellcasting.

8th level Grave Clerics get Potent Spellcasting but if you haven’t noticed we’re going for a weapon-based build so ask your DM to instead use the Blessed Strikes feature from the Class Feature Variants UA to do an extra d8 of Radiant damage with one of your attacks. The Piercing Darkness is mixed with the light, after all.

You can also prepare another spell and Stone Shape lets you form some relicstone into a massive cannon to fight off the darkness... or to make a passage through a wall. Guardian of Faith will let the light of Demacia protect you from any ghouls trying to grab you.

In addition your Destroy Undead feature now destroys undead of CR 1.

LEVEL 17 - CLERIC 9

9th level Clerics get access to 5th level spells. As a Grave Cleric you always have the Antilife Shell and Raise Dead spells always prepared: don’t worry though this is the good kind of Raise Dead where the person is just alive, not a mindless zombie.

For your spell of choice prepare the light of Dawn to strike down your foes.

LEVEL 18 - CLERIC 10

10th level Clerics get Divine Intervention. You can call the gods of Demacia to help you in a time of need. When you do the DM rolls on a percentile die and if the percentage is equal to or lower than your level (so right now 10, or a 1/10 chance) the gods will hear you and help you. You can only call for help once per long rest and if the gods do help you the feature is put on cool-down for 7 days. Never underestimate the power of a light in the darkness: they have long cool-downs for a reason.

You can also prepare another spell and Holy Weapon lets you channel the light into your Relic Cannon, making your weapon attacks do an extra 2d8 of Radiant Damage, and gives you a radiant burst to blind nearby enemies and do 4d8 damage to them.

You additionally get another cantrip and once again I’m largely stumped on what to take, so grab Toll the Dead so the creatures of the mist know their time is up.

LEVEL 19 - CLERIC 11

11th level Clerics can Destroy Undead of CR 2, and can prepare a 6th level spell like Heal.

LEVEL 20 - CLERIC 12

Our final level is the 12th level of Cleric for another Ability Score Improvement: if you want better spells go for more Wisdom but if you want to shoot your gun better I’d suggest finally taking the Sharpshooter Feat. This will let you ignore half cover and three-quarters cover and also shoot from your maximum range without disadvantage. But most importantly you can take a bit of a harder shot to instead receive +10 to your damage roll! “Handled.”

For your final (two) spells of choice Word of Recall lets you quickly recall to your Nexus along with your friends, and True Seeing will let you see if anything is trying to hide from purification or redemption. But again I need to mention that Clerics are prepared spellcasters, so prepare the spells that are useful in the moment.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Out of the lantern... - You are remarkably resistant with above-average health and proficiency with every type of saving throw except for Strength and Constitution, not to mention all the spells you have to buff yourself and your allies.

Hell came with me - You have immense damage output and utility in a fight. +10 to initiative with 3 attacks on turn 1 plus an extra d8 of damage. You also have a huge array of spells and spell slots going up to 8th level, with spells like Hunter’s Mark, Bestow Curse, and Holy Weapon all buffing your Relic Cannon.

I can handle this gun - You have a good deal of utility to provide to yourself and your party. Again I mention your Cleric spells but you also have a large array of proficiencies to be useful out-of-combat as well.

CONS

If you've got a problem with me, make it two - Like I mentioned in the pros section your two big Achilles' heels are Strength and Constitution saves. The low CON modifier in particular is a big issue since it means that you will be dropping Concentration spells frequently.

It’s the dream that makes us giants - Speaking about concentration: the spell list I recommended has a lot of them. You have an ungodly amount of Concentration spells at first level alone and it only gets crazier at higher levels.

Running with a gun in your hand - Senna operates best at range but unfortunately she has very few options to actually make distance for herself. That problem extends into this build as you rely almost entirely on being in the backline away from any Mist Wraiths that might want you.

But you’ve dealt with those problems all your life and they’re not going to stop you when you’re ready for a reckoning. I’m actually rather impressed with this build as it performs well across all levels of play. Fight along-side your husband as well as your team: heal the party, shoot the baddies, and be the light in the darkness. Just try to avoid being banished into a lantern for 6 years: Lucian needs you as much as you need him. "Lucian has a way of breaking down my walls."

(Artwork by Riot Games)

[caps-lockdown]

Candy Corn Blues

Hey everyone here’s another one shot for Spooktober! It’s short and sweet (pun intended) hope you all enjoy it!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female Reader

Ratings: PG 13 (Language, booze). All Fluff, already established relationship with Steve.

Words: 2,447

Summary: Why does everyone have to pick on Steve about his candy choices?

(Don’t own anything, except the reader. This was not endorsed by any candy companies. No beta either, so have fun finding mistakes. I’m sure there’s some.)

Candy Corn Blues

It was the second week in October when you arrived home from a mission with Steve. It had gone easy enough. Some minor cuts and bruises, but you returned to the Compound with the information you needed to stop a known terrorist from blowing up another building full of important people at another important gala in Washington. You’d care more if they hadn’t gotten so predictable lately. You were happy to do the job, but this mission was cutting into your favorite time of year. That bugged you.

You were entering the loud living area after a much needed shower, smile on your lips as you overheard your teammates continuing the discussion from earlier in the Quinjet.

“I’m telling you guys, Snickers is OBVIOUSLY the best Halloween candy.” Bucky rolled his eyes, sipping from his mug of coffee. How that man could drink that sludge this late was beyond you. But then again, it had been a pretty long night for all of you. And it’s not like alcohol would do anything to him. Sam remained firm in his opinion, shoulders tense as he stood his ground.

Tony scoffed, “Again you’re wrong Wilson, Reese’s pumpkins are by far the better candy for this time of year.” You high fived the man as you took the seat next to Steve on the overstuffed couch, giving him a quick peck before settling into his side, his arm going over your shoulders as if it had a mind of its own. “See? Y/N’s got the good sense to agree with me! Always knew you had good taste.”

“I see the debate is still in session.” You giggled as Steve fake groaned, leaning into you and resting his head on yours as you cuddled on the couch. You hadn’t really gotten a lot of time to each other the last couple weeks, the Avengers splitting up to help cover more ground on this terrorist situation. “I’ve missed you.”

The blonde man sighed into your hair, trying to ignore the scene behind him. “And I you Sweetheart.”

“Seriously Stark? Reese’s? Those taste like sawdust coated in those cheap chocolate candy melts and then left to rot for a year before they’re put on shelves.”

“Oddly descriptive Sam, “Nat pulled a face, reaching for a beer Thor was holding out for her. “Do I want to know just how you know what sawdust tastes like?”

“Har har, very funny. Just admit it, I’m right.”

“I have to disagree Samuel, I quite enjoy the taste of a Three Musketeers bar.” Thor shrugged, Bruce clicking his tongue between his teeth as he shook his head.

“Nah man, you guys are forgetting about Milky Ways!” Wanda nodded enthusiastically, not having said much most of the day, but you figured out pretty quickly she hadn’t actually eaten a lot of the candy that had been in the conversation.

It was Tony’s turn to make a face. “Banner those are almost as bad as Snickers. They might as well be sister-wives in the family of gross.”

“What about Sour Patch Kids! Ya’ll are sleeping on a classic!” You piped up from your position with your beau, the group collectively groaning and muttering “no”. “Well screw you too.”

“Hey we haven’t heard from Mr. Perfect teeth yet.” Tony jolted the man next to you out of his dozing mindset, a sheepish grin covering his face as he refused to speak. “What’s up Cap? Y/N got your tongue?”

“Crude Tony, but no. My favorite candy is none of your business.” You turned your head to look at him, swallowing his comment in your brain. You had no idea what his favorite candy was, not that he was a huge fan of sweets to begin with. You hadn’t even been dating that long, but you were certain you hadn’t asked him. “Don’t look at me like that Y/N, I’m not telling you.”

“Oh come on darling,” You cooed, trying to bait an answer out of him. “It can’t be that horrible. I’ll keep the big bad Stark away from you if it’s Snickers.” You rubbed his large forearm soothingly, the man’s face turning a slight shade of pink as he took a deep breath.

“Alright,” he sighed out the breath as if it was his death warrant, shutting his eyes to avoid everyone else’s as they waited. “It’s chicken feed.”

Your face was priceless. “Uh, what?”

“Sorry, it hasn’t been called that for awhile now I guess,” He chuckled, “Candy corn. I really love candy corn.”

The chorus of “WHAT?” and “THE FUCK ROGERS?” was deafening, Steve’s jaw tensing as he kept his eyes shut.

“Jesus Steve I know they didn’t have much back in the forties but my man, some things you can leave in the past. I wish they had left those travesties back in the eighteen-eighties.” Sam groaned out, Bucky laughing at his friend’s miserable features as Tony fake gagged.

“For once we agree Sam. Candy corn is the absolute worst thing to happen to this world since the black plague.”

“It’s just so…basic! Bland! There’s nothing to it! It’s like they made all of it back in nineteen twelve and have just been selling that one batch this whole time!”

“Pretty sure dirt has more flavor to it.”

Your face tensed as the men continued to berate your boyfriend’s choice, your hand coming over his to squeeze it gently. You knew he would shrug it off, but it still managed to get under your skin, even if they were right. “I’m sorry I asked, I don’t know how you can eat that stuff.”

“It reminds me of a simpler time. I mean there wasn’t tons of great tasting candy that was cheap back then. My ma always managed to get her hands on some and it’s just another way to remember her.” Your heart swelled as he smiled at you, blinking his eyes open. “I know it isn’t incredible, but I don’t need a bunch of ingredients or gimmicks. It’s just candy.”

“You’re sweet enough as is Rogers, I promise you that.” You muttered, watching his smile widen as he gave you another cavity inducing kiss.

Another two weeks went by in a flash, before you knew it Steve was leaving with Bucky, Sam, and Nat to go take out the terrorist. You had elected to stay behind with Tony, not feeling up to the adventure and it was going to be over too quick anyway. You had been nice enough to send him pictures of candy corn on the thirtieth, as it was the national day for it. He was quick to rub it in Sam’s face. Snickers didn’t have a holiday after all. You didn’t want to be parted from Steve, but you also didn’t want to risk missing movie night. Especially when Nat, Pepper, and you had all decorated the Tower in scary lights and creatures. Hell, Steve didn’t even want you to miss that, knowing this was your thing.

So they went to catch the bad guys while you, Pepper, Tony, and Peter Parker all sat crunched together on the sofa, watching everything from Hocus Pocus to Saw. You laughed when Pepper and Peter clung to each other, you and Tony egging on the classic slashers and cheering when teenagers met their end in terrifyingly awful and supremely dated ways.

“Holy shit!” You jumped, quickly dissipating into laughter as FRIDAY announced the team had stopped the terrorist, your heart rate calming at hearing everyone was fine and would be back tomorrow night after a meeting with the president. You opened the text window on your phone, smiling as Steve had sent you a picture of him with the team, all carving pumpkins in their hotel room a few hours later.

“Wish you were here Pumpkin.” The caption read, you snorting into your handful of popcorn, quick to take a picture of a woman mid scream on the T.V and sending it back with the attached text.

“You’re a real scream Sweetheart. See you soon.”

“Have a dreadfully good evening Doll.” Was in your window less than two seconds later. He was getting faster with his texting. Tony huffed a louder than needed “ahem”, drawing your eyes back to the T.V to watch Jamie Lee Curtis limp towards the safety of a closet.

“Man fashion sure has changed for the better hasn’t it Mister Stark?” Peter asked, the older man looking at him as if he was crazy. “What? You were alive in the seventies right?”

You and Pepper were in tears as the outraged Tony threw popcorn at the young man.

The next day you were helping Pepper take down the decorations in the tower, humming some Halloween tune to yourself as you placed the giant fake spiders and bats back in their correct boxes. The team would be back early morning tomorrow and you couldn’t wait to get some cuddle time with Steve. Tony had promised you two some R and R and you were going to have it. Even if the holidays were approaching like a bullet train. Picking up your phone you pressed the green icon next to your favorite Captain’s name, his voice coming in within a ring and a half.

“Hey Doll, you have a good night last night?”

“Yea, you? Looks like you were up to your hips in pumpkin guts.” You laughed, imagining him covered in the sticky substance.

“It was a lot of fun, you would have made it better though.”

You could feel the smile in his voice. “Well duh, this is me we’re talking about. I make everything better.”

“That you do. Going to go ransack all the stores of their Halloween clearance?” The blonde asked, frowning from his own position on the globe as yet another store didn’t carry his preferred candy. That was the fourth store. Had they stopped making it? “Hmm. This isn’t right.”

“You know me too well.” You smiled as Tony jingled the keys to his car at you, throwing you a pair of flats as you balanced the phone on your shoulder. “What’s not right?”

“I can’t find any candy corn. I was going to pick some up to hold me over til the Christmas kind comes out.”

“Awww poor baby.” You could hear Sam’s sarcasm from the other side of the line, stifling your own laughter as you got in the car. “I see they actually have sense here in Washington. Which is a big deal when you think about it.”

“Shaddup Sam,” Steve’s tone had a frustrated edge to it, and you were beginning to suspect that this was not the first comment Wilson had made during your boyfriend’s plight. “I can’t wait to see you , I’ll let you get to shopping. Tell Tony we’re gonna have pizza tomorrow so you don’t have it tonight.”

“But it’s Pizza Friday.” You complained weakly, knowing the older man was bound to throw a fit over a change in the routine.

“He’ll get over it. He likes you the most anyway, so he won’t be angry if you tell him.”

“Man you are so lucky you’re cute.” You muttered, Steve chuckling into the receiver.

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll make it up to you.” Your heart shuddered at his promise.

“You better. Sorry about your candy corn blues.”

“S’alright. Maybe you were right about me being sweet enough already.”

The two of you said your goodbyes and hung up, an idea popping into your head as you buckled your seat belt, admiring the leather of Tony's expensive car. You were even more excited to go shopping now, the billionaire almost looking worried as you bounced in your seat all the way to the first store.

The next day Steve and his team dragged their exhausted bodies from the Quinjet, the mission that took nearly a month to complete heavy on their minds as they decompressed from the stress.  The press event with the President had been worse. How that was possible none of them knew. To say they were happy to be home was an understatement. Rogers had actually dreamt of his bed the last couple nights, more specifically the woman who was in the bed. You hadn’t been dating for more than six months yet but he was already head first and heart deep in love with you. Everything you did was so effortless and gentle. You always thought of him, putting him and others before yourself. He admired your strength, as you didn’t need serum or powers to kick ass. He always had a weakness for powerful women though.

He didn’t bother turning on the light when he entered his room, stripping off his clothes and promptly passing out on his bed, taking note you weren’t there to greet him. Probably smart for you to sleep in your room, as it was nearly three in the morning.

He woke up to the biggest shock of his life.

The light streamed into his room like the sun had made it its own personal mission to make sure Steve would go blind. Standing up, he yawned, rubbing his eyes before they widened in surprise.

His room was crawling in candy corn. Containers and bags of it flooded his floor and chair next to his bed. There were even a couple of bags on his bed. How could he have slept through all of this? He must have been more tired than he thought. There was a pumpkin shaped container nearly overflowing with the sugary confection on his nightstand, little packets meant for trick or treaters hanging out of his shoes. A knock at his door startled the man, Steve carefully stepping over the obnoxiously bright orange bags on the floor as he opened the door.

You lowered a large pillow in the shape of his favorite treat, large grin on your face. “Morning. Do you think this will hold you over til Christmas?”

He laughed hard at that, pulling you into his arms as he kissed you breathless.

“Doll, you’re the absolute sweetest. Thank you.”

“Anytime Captain. Now as I recall you have some making up to do.” You whispered suggestively, Steve taking the hint and closing the door behind you, smile never leaving his eyes.

The End.

Taglist: @kaytizzle @cuffski @giggleberts @pies-wands-and-more

[reylofanfictionanthology]

Authors have now been revealed for For one is love and both are one in love!

Over 170 fics were posted to our Exchange this month and we are so excited to finally share the authors with you!  Thank you so much to all of the writers who wrote for this event!  

For one is love and both are one in love collection on AO3 |  Gift Fic Master Post Part Two | Treats Master Post

Gift Fic Master Post Part One: 

ghosts on the shore by dearly for aaronBursar

“I meant what I said to you that day on the Death Star. I thought I could never go back. I still think it even now—that I don’t belong here, that I never will.” “But you did come back,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You’re here now. With me. You chose it. Despite everything, we made it, both of us.” They sat in silence for awhile, hands clasped while they watched the camp clear as people finally turned in for the night. Then, suddenly, Ben was struck with an idea. “What if we took a trip?”

Sugar High by HopeRebelfor abbytheatre08

When Maz Kanata hosts five weeks of a Battle of the Bands competition, Rey Johnson and Kylo Ren find themselves both pitted against one another, and drawn together as the weeks go on.

Delayed For A While by tmf for aionimica

Death cannot stop love. All it can do is delay it awhile.

I am ready to follow you even though I don't know where by iamladyloki for AlwaysEverlark

Her closest friends want Rey to move on from what happened on Exegol, but she refuses to accept that Ben Solo, her soulmate in the Force, is dead. Instead, she undertakes a rescue mission to bring Ben home--no matter the risk.

A More Perfect Union by fangirl_outlet for america_oreosandkitkats

Rey, new to DC, tags along to a stuffy networking event with her friend -- they're both poor and, hell, there's free booze. Ben, a recruiter for the lobbyist firm he works for, finds the intern with the soft voice and angry eyes a fun challenge -- especially when he finds out she works for his estranged mother Senator Leia Organa.

In the Den of the Darkwolf by Fairleigh for Amy326

Rey awakened in the darkwolf’s den.

happy cockus day by trasharama for andabatae

She prefers the nip of New Hampshire winters, heavy winds blowing in her hair, being bundled up in three layers with pens whose ink freeze fast and thaw slow. She loves warm buildings, and Christmas breaks, and slurping down huge bowls of ramen in the evenings, but being on the ground, a clipboard in her hand, boots on a voter’s doorstep? That’s where she knows she belongs. So there are a lot of things going against Rey Johnson’s introduction to Ben Solo, his moody personality probably the least of her worries, since he’s the reason she’s not outside, making some sort of tangible effort to get his mother elected as president.

Hope Lives by gennalannisters for aNerdObsessed

This AU story takes place right after the Battle of Exegol, Rey and Ben have just defeated Palpatine and they are both seriously injured but not mortally wounded. When all hope is lost for them as there is no one coming to get them, old friends of the past come to their aid.

Two Bits (or The Haircut) by Bombastique for Ann3onymous

Three days into their marriage of convenience, Ben and Rey are maybe starting to realize that there’s more to this arrangement than a green card or a cooperative board of directors.

We've Got a Good Thing Here by greyrey-lo (punkpoemprose) for Anysia

Rey & Ben Solo navigate their feelings in the aftermath of the end of the war. With Ben a "functionally dead" force ghost, Rey has to come to terms with how she will balance restoring liberty to the galaxy and making her relationship with Ben work in a... physical sense. It's a difficult enough task to begin with, and it doesn't help that every time they're alone someone seems to require Rey for something.

Event Horizon by SpaceWaffleHouseTM for Apisa_B

Rey runs into Kylo Ren on a mission for the Resistance, and they have to work together against their wishes. This would be simple... if working together didn't involve pretending to be married, sharing a hotel room, and a lot of unresolved feelings.

still caught in yesterday's wake by ilum for Apricot

Her heart is heavy with fear—fear that one day she will no longer be able to recall the shape of Ben’s face, or the timbre of his voice, or the exact color of his eyes; that her memory of him will fade until she is left with nothing but the pain of his absence, like some phantom limb that aches and aches and aches, relentlessly.

A Dark Day Dream by Lizardbeeth for ArdeaJestin

Ben's come home, but Rey can't face him. Not because of anything he's done, at least not in real life. But in her fantasies? oh yes.

Become Who You Were Meant to Be by lucymonster for Aurae

Kylo is a fighter both by training and by preference. Tactics, not strategy. Action, not discussion. Every instinct in him wants to solve his problems by grabbing his sword and shedding some blood. But those easy days are behind him now. He has a galaxy to run. It would be easier if only he could stop thinking about her.

The Spaces Inbetween by aionimica for Ayrith (freijya)

It wasn’t the first time. Not the first since Crait and she saw him kneeling and their eyes met with anger and ache and want and everything else they didn’t have to say. No. Not the first, nor the second, nor even the third. This was a well trodden path that they all walked over and over. As if the Force was taking their hands and despite both of them tearing it away, still trying to bring them together. --- Rey and Kylo have been dealing with the Force bond for some time, but it finally reaches a tipping point.

The Least Of What I Could Do by OkayPianist for benperor-ren (winterelf86)

"I refuse to play opposite someone who has never had a part in their entire life," sneers Ben. "Either Rey goes or I do."

Niima's by fantastic_fanatics for bensolosredemption

Though Niima's is a questionable establishment, it's always been Ben's favorite bar. It's not just because he's inexplicably attracted to the new bartender, either - though he has to admit she might have something to do with it.

Devil Spawn by OptimisticBeth for Biekewieke

After a hot anonymous encounter at The Annual Organa Halloween Ball, Rey realizes she slept with the horrible guy who is her new boss. But he doesn't recognize her! And he asks her to track down his mystery hookup, which she totally agrees to do (wink wink, haha, she's lying). But then she finds out she's pregnant! GASP! What's a scared, pregnant single girl to do? (Other than take a nap because she's exhausted.)

Belonging by Megara09 for bitterbones

Friends-with-benefits except whoops I'm in love with you now and hate seeing you flirt with other people because we're technically not together.

Paradise by englishable for bittersnake

For two people whose souls are inseparably united, the question of sex shouldn't be that complicated. Given Ben and Rey's individual histories, however, it really comes as no surprise. But that's all right. They’ll have their whole lives together to figure it out, if Rey and Ben and possibly several hundred generations’ worth of Jedi ghosts have anything to say about the matter. Which they do.

Miss Johnson & the Professor by ElegyGoldsmith for blackheretic (redlondons)

Her heart wants to erupt through her throat, and she audibly gulps, trying to keep her gaze from the only place it wants to go. Thank fuck his eyes are so hypnotic; she can get lost in them as she stammers for English syllables. “Y-Yes, Dr. Solo?” “Seriously, Rey.” Is he blushing? Surely not. “I’ve known you all year, call me Ben.” “Ben,” she mumbles. It tastes like delicious sacrilege. “I actually think you’re in my bed.” “Huh?” “The couch. I was going to sleep there. Remember?” Rey clutches the blanket to her collarbone, hoping the light fabric is tented loosely enough to cover her breasts. Fuck, why does he have to be so distractingly hot? “No, it’s all right. I don’t mind, Professor.” “Ben," he insists firmly. “And I won’t be able to sleep at all knowing I’m comfy in a bed while you’re sleeping on that thing.”

Owner Malfunction. by VirtualMadness for Bombastique

One year after surviving Execgol, Rey and Ben Solo find themselves in each other's company after they are both captured while trying to take back the Falcon from Kanjiklub remnants. (AKA - The Force, the Falcon, love, and droids.)

Stealing the Light by NiriKeehan for bratanimus

Redemption isn’t given. It’s earned. Or: As the galaxy rebuilds from war, the man formerly known as Kylo Ren tries to make peace with the person he was, and the person he’s becoming.

Rey Niima and the American (Hot Piece of) Ass that She Just Wants to Tap, while also Not Dying in the Triwizard Tournament or Becoming Otherwise Inconvenienced or Maimed by MahoganyDoodles for Cairdiuil_Paiste

Completed for the prompt: Hogwarts AU! Triwizard tournament time with seventh year Rey representing Hogwarts. She wants to impress the MACUSA representative to strengthen her chances of joining their graduate programme. Too bad American diplomat Ben Solo doesn't seem to like her…

a forest of stars by QueenOfCarrotFlowers for caisha

Rey works hard at the diner to save up for her long dreamed-of vacation to Finland. She's lonely, but that's not new. What is new is Kylo Ren, the CEO of Orpheus Corp and new boss of her best friend Finn. When Finn and Kylo Ren stop by the diner for lunch, Rey feels as though she's finally met someone who understands her. But who is Kylo Ren, and what's his secret? A Modern Fae AU

I am a Soul Longing by La_Catrina for Ceallaigh

Rey has spent the last two years searching the galaxy for clues about how to bring Ben back. Now, finally, it seems she has a solid lead. The planet Xolutel is said to be a vergence in the Force, and myth has it there's a hidden temple where worshipers of the Force were granted their deepest desires. No matter how slim the possibility, Rey owes it to Ben and herself to check it out. She's not known to give up easily.

The World Has Been Sad Since Tuesday by crystanagahori for ceciliasheplin

The creature on his bed defied explanation, but Kylo Ren had a distinct feeling that there was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. At least, not in this room. Demons lay in wait outside, but not here. Best not to let anyone know about this.

Be With Me by tweis24 for Chthonia

A force connection between Kylo (Ben), and Rey. It takes place while she is on Ach-To, and he is on the Death Star.

between the shadow and the soul by ninecrimes for ClockworkCrow (icemink)

“You and Skywalker have been keeping it a secret,” she said, her eyes searching his face to catch him when he lies. “But I know the truth. I learned it, the day after we fought on Mustafar. That Lord Vader was his father, and your grandfather.” He struggled against her stasis but she pushed back harder, her power swirling around them both. “Rey—” “Don’t you see, Ben?” There was a ghost of a smile on her lips. “The darkness is inside of you, too. You don’t have to keep fighting it. You were meant to be mine.” Mine. . or: Jedi Knight Ben Solo should really stop doing smuggling runs with his father. Kira Ren should really stop trying to turn him to the dark side.

The Rescue by Vivien for cohava

“What is it?” Ben asked, watching the worry lines form on Rey’s forehead as she checked the message that had just pinged through her datapad. “Poe’s leading the relief efforts on Faratula. There’s a boy there, Force sensitive. Orphaned. Poe says it’s a pretty bad situation.” “Let’s go get him, then,” he said without pausing.

how easy you are to need by OccasionallyCreative for Crimson_Alchemistress

The war is finished, yet Rey still carries wounds. They come in the form of nightmares, but Ben is there to comfort her.

stuck on how it feels here next to you by kuresoto for crossingwinter

Around four months ago, Ben and Rey married out of convenience. It had started that way and one of the key reasons why they had agreed to this in the first place was the condition that neither had romantic feelings for the other. This is their life, both head of heels for the other while not really knowing what to do about it.

Blue Sand by patig_00 for Crysania

The pale crimson sun rises above the horizon across the fields. A slight wind gently brushed Rey’s face. She left the ship and coverded herself with a blue scarf from a desert heat. She stepped forward, carefully observing the small city before her. Hot sand was burning her feets despite thick soles of boots. “This is going to be disaster,” she told herself with a crooked smile.

covert mission: baby acquisition bitterbones for crystanagahori

In which Rey decides she's ready to start a family of her own and Ben Solo, her boss and dear friend, would make the perfect sperm donor. * It was a stupid, girlish crush. One that likely wasn’t reciprocated, and could land her in a world of trouble with HR if she acted brashly. But still, she wanted him. He could waive his parental rights for all she cared. They could enter into some sort of contract, if such things existed. But he was the perfect candidate, the ideal sperm donor. Ben Solo.

hands that hurt, hands that heal solikerez for cuddlesome

Rey climbs on top of Ben and makes out with his sopping self after Force healing his stab wound.

It was not Death, for I stood Up by politicalmamaduck for CwenPhy

Emperor Palpatine lied on Exegol; Rey is not his granddaughter. Rey sets off on a journey, led by Obi-Wan Kenobi, to bring Ben Solo back from the World Between Worlds.

Good Boy by Aicosu for dankobah

Rey takes her dog to a nearby veterinary clinic for an emergency and doesn't expect to meet Ben (or anyone) while there.

The Unbreakable Bond by AlwaysEverlark for DarkSideOfMe

After Crait, Rey thought she had severed their Force Bond, or at least closed it, but some weeks ago she started feeling it, a presence in the back of her mind. Then she could hear him saying her name or other random words or feelings: concern, anxiety, loneliness, longing..to be fair, she didn’t know who those feelings belonged to, if there were Kylo’s or hers. And that was the other reason to put an end to this; she wasn’t ready to deal with anything different to her anger and disappointment. She had to focus on her training, on the Resistance, in their fight against “his” First Order. She was scared, scared of something she couldn’t put a name to, and last night had just showed her how important it was to break their connection. It was time to read the Jedi texts she’s been putting off for too long.

NiimaRide by witchsoup for datswatutink

Journey urge her not to stop believin' but provide no further clarification before she's strapped in the back seat and they're pulling away from the only real break she's had in twenty-four years.

To Hold and Give Light by midwinterspring for dearly

After Exegol, Rey takes an injured Ben back to the Resistance.

a conundrum of lightsabers by wombathos for devon380black (kryptonian17)

In the aftermath of Crait, Rey is left with two halves of a broken lightsaber she has no idea how to fix. As her force bond conversations with Ben continue, she comes to understand he's the only one who can help her with her problem. Maybe if they can repair one thing, they can repair something else too.

What Happens in Hotel Chandrila by starfleetjedi for DrPearlGatsby

Accompanying her best friends to a Galaxy Wars convention in Chandrila sounded like a good idea at first. But third-wheeling sucks, and that's how Rey finds herself daydrinking alone at the hotel bar. And then she gets a free drink from a tall, brooding, handsome stranger…

Until the Wild Feelings Leave You by isszeldasayre for dustoftheancients

Rehabilitating from a battle injury leaves Rey an irritable mess. The way Ben hovers over her does nothing to help.

Kintsugi by Fic_me_senseless  for ElegyGoldsmith

In the darkest moments, the galaxy is still filled with light.

give me shapes and letters, if it’s not forever by dankobah for ElleRen31

She holds out her hand, “I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Rey.  I work at the flower shop next door.” He must be new, or she’s just a shut-in during work because she would’ve remembered seeing him after a year of being here. “I’m Kylo, I own the tattoo shop.”  He points to his building and her eyebrows raise as he shakes her hand.  Owner? So he’s the head honcho? She hums to herself and then keeps the smile plastered on her face. Then she sets her sights on the dogs, “What are their names?”

Where the ocean goes by Nebulous Bounds for Elywyngirlie

Sometimes getting out alive is the victory. Sometimes the rest takes a little time.

it shall not be death by TolkienGirl for englishable

Rey of the Jedi Knights is sent with her sword and Holy Fire, to destroy a palace of thorns.

It doesn't quite go as planned.

The Reckoning by bratanimus for Erin410

Because of Rey, Ben has grown rather good at waiting. But she’s waiting, too, for something that hasn’t dawned on him yet. [Post-TROS mildly angsty marriage proposal fluff, hope you enjoy!]

Trading Places by HellyJellyBean for Fairleigh

Kylo… Kylo awoke to the sound of her whimpering his name. He sat bolt upright in Rey’s extremely uncomfortable cot. Anxious for her safety, he reached out for her with his mind. Rey? He heard her moan and heat instantly pooled between his legs. Curious. The sensation was different but not unwelcome. Then he saw Rey, or rather he saw himself, naked and writhing on his bed. His mouth fell open. Rey was... masturbating. He watched in awe as she pumped his shaft up and down, slowly but forcefully. Kylo… She called his name again.

You'll Turn by shipperofdarkness for FangirlintheForest

A retelling of the Last Jedi's elevator and throne room scenes with a role reversal twist. Can Smuggler Ben turn Dark Rey?

Building Something Together by walkingsaladshooter for fantastic_fanatics

When Ben confronts his new upstairs neighbor who keeps making all manner of odd noises at all manner of hours, he didn't expect what she's doing up there. He also didn't expect her to be so pretty.

Little Starfighter by eliaatan for Fic_me_senseless

Convinced he ruins everything he touches, isolated and lonely Ben Solo successfully pushes everyone away, except for the girl who sees something in him she recognizes.

Benvenuto nella nostra famiglia by Ann3onymous for gennalannisters

"Well, I have sensitive information here. Dinner is just actually a ploy. It’s actually an interrogation to make sure you didn't read the documents." She turned and smirked at him as they headed down the stairs, "If that's the case, I'm happy to be interrogated through wining and dining.” Love is in the air at Harvard Square.

Binary Suns by Twisted_Mirror for gigi_marlee

Young Ben Solo meets a young Rey. The two form an intense and instant attachment to the confusion of Ben's parents and his Uncle, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. What is a dyad and what will it mean for two children who have found belonging in each other?

more everything by caisha for HalfwayThrough

"I'm the boss, I've earned the right to show up whenever the fuck I want." He was arrogant, condescending, and an asshole. And he didn't have a mark on his wrist.

One Stick of Unsalted Butter by HalfwayThrough for HopeRebel

Rey's neighbor is the rudest, least considerate person she had to interact with. However, when she runs out of butter in the middle of night trying to bake cookies for Rose's birthday, there is only person she knows is awake and he is her only hope. Of course, things don't go according to plan.

come home, ben by shiiera for hxllosweetie33

He looked at their hands, watched as Rey intertwined their fingers together, and fought the back the shutter from the contact. “ Rey…” He whispered. She brought her hand to his face – calloused tips brushing against his scar – observing his face, every detail of it, the bags and dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, his dry lips, the lack of light behind his eyes.

Ashes of Life by Elwyngirlie for iamladyloki

Dark Rey becomes a reality and Ben has to remind her who she is

Negotiated Settlement Aurae for ilum

General Leia Organa has brought a small team with her to Kaytuu 5, expecting to negotiate a ceasefire between the First Order-controlled planetary government and local Resistance fighters. Unfortunately, Supreme Leader Armitage Hux has other plans. Rey will need the assistance of a Certain Someone who no longer calls himself Kylo Ren if she and her friends are to save the day.

Coming Home by Xochiquetzl for incognitajones

After the Battle of Exegol, Rey and an injured Ben are trapped together on an uninhabited planet.

The Stray by TheOriginalSuki for itsinthestars

Rey moves in across the hall from Ben; a former foster kid alone in the city, aspiring to be an actress. Ben is a ladder-climbing white collar businessman with a horrible boss and zero social life. Which is just the way he likes it. So why in the world has this insufferable creature made it her life's work to adopt him? From sharing her dinner to doing his laundry, she seems determined to make a connection. In the end, it's easier for Ben to just let her. But opening up means letting your heart be vulnerable.

Peace and Purpose by Anysia for itsnotillegal

Across the stars, Rey and Ben yearn for each other, neither able to move on, both facing the unending nights alone. But the Force longs for balance as surely as they long for each other.

Christmas Blues by benperor-ren for karlamartinova

The first snow had fallen, covering the ground like a white blanket. The emergence of winter weather always marked the increase of Christmas moods. The season when people fervently decorated their houses and you couldn’t walk through the mall or downtown area without hearing a Christmas jingle. The neighborhood already sparkled with multicolored lights and inflated or authentic snow-made snowmen. Rey Johnson’s festive mood rose with each house she drove by, her fingers tapping on the wheel as “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree”faded and transitioned into another song.

and I'll come home to you by thewayofthetrashcompactor for kuresoto

Ben and Rey both escape Exegol, and the past follows them. To protect the strange child they've found, they set up a school for Force-sensitives, but Ben can't shake the weight of his guilt.

what stranger miracles by incognitajones for La_Catrina

Ben can’t even manage to die right, apparently. 

the universe resting in my arms by AceQueenKing for Lightningpelt

Rey sees Ben, quietly tooling around the Skywalker homestead, his hands wet with mechanic's grease, and the image is so perfect that she holds her breath, not wanting to mar it with a loud breath.

counting my steps, reaching out to you by RedPaladin465 for Lizardbeth

All her life, Rey has felt snatches of someone else's emotions, seen visions of other places, other people she's certain she's never seen before. In a world where everything had been taken away from her, this connection was hers alone. She is wholly unprepared for the day she finds out that the person at the other end of the connection is a Jedi fighting as part of the Resistance against her delusional Master.

Soulmates by itsinthestars for LostInQueue

After Ben Solo disappears in front of her eyes, she finds a way to bring him back, where love began…

Heal by ceciliasheplin for LRRH17

A few weeks after the Battle of Crait, the Force connects Rey and Ben again on several occasions.

Softly, Softly by Merixcil for lucymonster

When the Resistance start to pick up distress calls from defecting Stormtroopers, they move to save as many as they can. It doesn't occur to them that the First Order might be after the same renegades until they're right on top of them.

First Impressions and Unexpected Connections by Melusine11 for LueurdeLaube

War has ravaged the galaxy, but finally, there is a chance at peace. Her grandfather arranges for Princess Rey Palpatine to wed the Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, broadcast across the galaxy to usher in the new era. They've never met before, but he's sent her letters.

All These Things That I've Done by MissCoppelia for MahoganyDoodles

Someone dropped down to Rey's level and reached for the empty plastic shell of her case. She stilled for a moment, afraid that she was about to get smacked with it, afraid to look up. “Sorry about him,” she heard over the sound of her heart beating through her ears. Not Hux? This voice was deeper. Rey looked up and saw Ben Solo in front of her, holding out the case for her, a sympathetic look in his dark brown eyes.

For Now by Celia_and for maq_moon

There are plenty of things he could say, but he doesn’t. Buying you muffins makes me excited to get out of bed in the morning. I wish I could go back in time and be the kind of person you could like. I don’t remember my life before you. ---------- When Kylo finds his soulmate, she doesn't know, and he doesn't tell her.

You can view the other two masterposts for this exchange in this tag.