#Star Wars: Star Tours Continues! Again?

[pastel-kaleesh]

them in a nutshell

INSPO

[nihildenial]

On the Nose by nihil-denial (wc: 1,465)

Pairings: Special Ghoul & Copia's Rats

Rating: Gen

Tags: Fluff, No hurt, Animal love, Copia's rats, Rigatoni the Rat

Summary: Special Ghoul believes he won't enjoy pet-sitting Papa Emeritus IV's twelve pet rats. Perhaps he shouldn't make assumptions that quickly.

It’s difficult to continue daily tasks in a quiet Ministry. Special Ghoul’s routine of sweeping, paperwork, and media management was typically easy because of the flurry of activity that kept distracting him. However, with Papa Emeritus IV, the Ghouls, and Papa Nihil out on tour, Phil was left in charge of most of the ghoul’s daily chores. The Siblings stepped up for a lot of it, much to his relief. 

So, that meant he could keep his normal schedule of document reviewing, instgram and email wrangling, sweeping…and now, rat babysitting. He wasn’t looking forward to starting that task today. Rats were considered pests in New York City, only an hour’s drive from the Ministry. Sure, the Rats song was fun to shoot and the cartoon stickers Copia handed out were cute, but the real animals were probably a mess of dirty vermin that the man has managed to look past to find something adorable in.

He probably would get dirt all in his tunic. 

Special Ghoul straightened his belt and hung his mask by his fascia as he neared Papa Copia’s room. He closed his deep amber eyes and took a deep, settling breath before he pushed through the heavy velvet curtains. 

He feels for the light switch, jumping when it triggers the large lava lamp on the side table. “Fucking hell,” he mutters and continues through the small living area to the bedroom. He switches on the overhead lights and sighs at the large metal structure taking up the entirety of the right wall. 

Special stares at it then looks to where he presumes the Anti-Pope sleeps. It’s a twin mattress on the floor, pushed up against the middle wall. The fire Ghoul knows that the man’s coffers are more than full enough for a nice bedroom set. They’re satan worshippers for fuck’s sake; Special needs to convince the man to put his selfish wants first for once. 

Special sets the several bags of things on the neatly tucked bed. A packet of paper is sitting innocently on the Star Wars pillow. 

He then walks to the floor-to-ceiling cage and comes eye-to-eye with the rodents Copia so dearly loves. Special flips to the first page (it’s a motherfucking table of contents) and then the next, which has a picture and description of each of the twelve pet rats. 

Alfredo

Allegro

Buccatini

Crescendo

Farfalle

Gemelli

Gemini

Legato

Minestra

Opus

Rigatoni

Toccata

A star sticker was placed next to Rigatoni’s picture, designating him as Copia’s ‘heart rat’ or whatever that meant. Phil closes the packet and sets it aside. He toes off his shoes outside of the baby crates that surround the cage and carefully steps inside, trying not to step on any of the toys. 

Squeaks of all pitches meet his ears. He finally looks up to meet the excited gazes of the rats. They’re squirming, jumping, wrestling and going between the many different levels of the cage. A bunch of them gather on the floor nearest his face. There’s little dirt or visible poop on the colorful blankets and dig box. In fact, the longer he stands there, he notices how they use their tiny arms to lick and wash their faces and bodies.

“Why are you all actually cute?” He asks quietly as a pink nose pushes between the thin bars of the enclosure. He boops it gently. “I can’t let Papa know he was right.”

The black and white rodent jumps away from the bars, scurries up onto one of the hanging hammocks, then bounces back to press against the bars. It repeats it when Special touches the pink nose again.

Oh, it wants to play. 

“Okay, okay, let me make sure this is secure before I let all of you out.” He checks the corners of the playpen, fills the thin bowl with water and most of the frozen peas and carrots, then steps back up to the cage. The latch on the bottom area is simple. 

As soon as the doors are open, the rats are eagerly scurrying down the short ramp to the cushioned floor. Copia’s instructions say he can let them go by themselves for a bit, so he steps out to observe them.

Special watches their fuzzy, avocado-shaped bodies move with such a feeling of excitement that he finds himself smiling down at them. Geez, he’s turning soft. 

A large, golden rat pauses in its place at the platter of peas and pellets to stare up at him. It crawls around its packmates and tries to jump onto the playgate. Surprisingly it makes it almost to the top. Special falls to his knees and grabs the rodent to keep it from escaping. 

The animal is squishy, warm, and wiggly. It calms as it relaxes in the radiant warmth of his palm, closing its beady but cute black eyes. According to the papers, this is Rigatoni, a special rat. 

Special ghoul carefully pets the rat’s head with a finger. When the rat relaxes more, he caresses the animal’s pudgy body. 

It’s calming. Special is holding a tiny life in his hands, and is being trusted unconditionally . He’s a scrappy fire ghoul meant to fight in the pits of Hell and this little creature finds something good enough in him to relax. He has to wipe the hot tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his tunic. 

“Hello, Rigatoni,” he croaks. 

The rat opens its eyes and stretches its delicate pink arms and legs, climbing up his arm to sit on his shoulder. 

Special has seen Copia walking around with a few of the rodents like this. Sometimes he even puts a basket on his stupid tricycle for several rats to ride around in. 

More of the rats have finished fishing for peas to hop at the gate to gain his attention. He reaches down and picks up one of the docile black and white ones. Allegro paws at the embroidered ghoul symbols. 

“Yes, I’m a ghoul,” he answers the rat.

He has to put the rat back down when it tries chewing off the patch. “No, no. No nibbling off my patches. I know it was a few of you little shits that did that to Papa’s favorite pants.”

He tries to look at them sternly, but their tiny, curious faces make it extremely difficult. Special reads a few more pages of Copia’s instructions. 

“You guys want some treats?” He says and laughs at the eager frenzy that causes. He presses the rectangular bits of sweet potato, peas, and walnut pieces in the different balls, snuffle mats, and hammocks. 

Rigatoni crawls down his arm to hop back into the playpen to join the search for treats. When he tries to take one of the balls to put more treats in, Toccata grabs it and starts an impromptu tug-of-war. When Phil carefully tosses it in, the grey rat pushes it around with it’s pink nose like a dog. 

-

“Have you seen Special Ghoul?” Sister Gwenyth pokes her head into the Siblings’ communal kitchen.

Brother Ezra shakes his head from where he’s stirring in a large pot. “Not since this morning. He said he was going to feed Papa’s rats.”

She purses her lips and looks to the few other Siblings in the kitchen. All of them give her equally unhelpful answers. She turns and heads back out into the cloister, checking the empty Ghoul crypt once more. She goes back upstairs to the main level and heads towards the papal wing. 

She tries not to think too hard about the empty bedrooms as she passes them. She stops outside the curtain, a line of light spilling from under the doorway. “Phil?” She calls.

When she gets no answer, she cautiously steps inside. The living room is empty, so she moves on.

The bed is filled with the Ghoul’s duffel bag and discarded silver mask. She looks over the edge of the playpen by the open rat cage (not seeing any rats or squeaks, which makes her panic) and sees the most adorable sight.

Special Ghoul, asleep in the middle of the large space, with twelve rats snuggling in the junctions of his neck and on top of his chest. He looks so peaceful, his sharp, charcoal grey features relaxed. The rats on his chest are snuggling under one of his hands, their tails sticking out from his fingers. In the crook of his neck is a bunch of curled up rodent noses pressed against each other and moving with their breaths. 

She has to physically restrain herself from making noise. Gwenyth frantically captures the moment with her phone and sends it to Copia. She checks that all of them are indeed breathing and snaps another picture before leaving them alone. The tax documents can wait until tomorrow.

[earlycuntsets]

07/2005 rock sound

english translation:

"mikey's way" before hitting the road again, heading for Germany, the band members take a lunch break… The waiter asks them if they prefer sandwich bread or a "French baguette"? The Way brothers choose French bread. Once served, Mikey Way's face falls in front of his roast beef sandwich. "It's raw!", the bassist wonders. (the only time of the day when he spoke…) "That's normal, it's eaten like that!", his brother replies. "Oh? Okay…"

"It was unmanageable on the day of the concert. It's too much stuff in one day. As a result, we rarely have time to enjoy the places where we stop for more than a day." Gerard then joins the rest of the group in front of the Carrousel du Sacré-Cœur. Together, the five of them happily indulge in a photo shoot organized for an English teen magazine. The photographer is keen to take advantage of the very 'Frenchie' setting of the Montmartre district. Under the astonished gaze of a few tourists who wonder what is going on, the group takes their place in front of the merry-go-round. "This is the first time we've been asked to smile for a photo shoot!" laughs Ray Toro, guitar. A fan of Jean-Pierre Jeunet's film, the group then recognizes a few places seen in the film Amélie Poulain. The tour continues, with a few comments on French architecture and culture. As soon as they arrive at the first comic book store, everyone forgets their fatigue and doesn't waste a second rushing to buy the new Star Wars figurines and other comics.

A customer stares at Frank before asking him if he's in a band: "Do you play in The Cure?" Frank bursts into laughter and answers in the negative before going to tell the others his little story. After a few purchases (Misfits figurines, etc.), it's already time to get back on the tour bus. "We write a lot on our tour bus. We've practically converted the 'lounge area' into a studio! We've already written a few songs. We might even go back into the studio after the tour. It's a bit different, but it's a logical evolution since Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge," says Gerard Way, who recently did some backing vocals for Every Time I Die's new album. But the band's current news is on the road. "We're thinking of doing another tour in the United States in September," Frank continues. "For the moment, nothing is certain, but it could well be that we open for a big band with whom we've already played…" Green Day? "We can't say anything," smiles Gerard. In any case, playing with Green Day has taught us a lot. Just by watching them. They can fill stadiums and keep a constant communication with the audience. Billie Joe is an incredible frontman. We are much better on stage today, partly thanks to opportunities like these. It's amazing to go from 300 people to 10 or 20 times more. A real challenge for us and also the best learning for a young band. […] Otherwise, we really want to do splits with other bands. We were talking about a split 45 with Alkaline Trio, it will be done according to our schedules." Time is on your side!"

[frumfrumfroo]

Imagine making a film series like Star Wars and framing the triumphant romantic kiss as 'goodbye'... I still can't believe they made that film. Obvs that's probably how Daisy Ridley interprets it, not necessarily how it was framed (which was lacking narrative altogether), but it's still miserable. It's not even Romeo & Juliet vaunted romantic tragedy. It just sucks.

I do pity the poor anons who are waiting for some sort of different outcome with a new ST film. Studio executives will never look at the critical failure of TROS (it was a commercial success though) and think the takeaway was 'maybe we shouldn't have fractured the SW myth', it's 'oh, okay, let's never deviate ever again, damn that blasted TLJ' - just look at how JJ and co. tried to retroject TROS' failures onto the previous film. Course correction, course correction. Rey Film, if it gets made, will be DO YOU REMEMBER THIS? self-flagellating apology. Ben Solo will never return.

Yeah, anyone trying to come up with any positive spin on it, including desperate attempts to see it as effective tragedy, are doomed to failure. Only by completely ignoring the context and taking the moment by itself carried only on the actors' performances as continuity from TLJ without any of the terrible fucking tros script in the way can the kiss actually mean something.

As soon as you try to make tros into any kind of story or draw any kind of sincere message from it, you immediately run into the brick wall of what a soulless, nonsensical piece of trash it is.

I had a whole rant about how it's not Romeo and Juliet and I am still so annoyed how often people draw the comparison, both utterly missing the point of R&J and giving tros credit which it does not deserve by imagining it assigns any meaning to Ben's death whatsoever.

Yep. We've seen them do nothing but triple down. They have no idea why the movie was such an embarrassing wet fart. Rey the sexless eternal child will never be challenged again, she'll go on a worship tour of references, places, and objects to do reverence as the Brand Avatar. She's not a character any more and she's never going to be again.

[vivalas-vega]

new perspectives // part eleven // jake 'hangman seresin x reader

boy oh boy -- I've been working on this part since I posted the last one (and mind you... this version of it I wrote and completed within the last three hours - there's about 10,000 additional words with different versions of this) - I just could not figure out how to continue it and I don't know if I'm happy with it fully but here it is !! this one is more focused on Rooster and Jupiter and their friendship because I haven't gone as in depth with it as I would have liked in past chapters. as always - please let me know what you think !!

new perspectives // part eleven // jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 4.1k

warnings: mentions of war (but nothing too detailed), mentions of gunshot wounds (again, nothing too detailed), slight suggestiveness at the end

The stars above Rooster, twinkling and shining, served as some kind of mockery as he sat on the beach and looked for constellations, though he wasn’t finding any because he wasn’t trying very hard. He wished he could be in his jet right now, wished he could feel the controls in his hands and see the earth below him because maybe then this wouldn’t be so scary, maybe he wouldn’t feel so helpless. 

There was just enough alcohol coursing through his veins for the weight of his emotions to get on top of him, but not enough to forget what he’d heard entirely. He knew what his job was right now. Your last request of him, bestowed not too far from where he was sitting with that sweet smile of yours and eyes full of stars, had been replaying on a loop for the past few hours. Take care of them for me, take care of him. You knew they were equipped to handle this, their lives weren’t all that different from the one you were currently living but there was one key difference that was not lost on anybody… while they were too high above the chaos to truly see, you were down in the middle of it all. While they may have been equipped to handle a friend's deployment, they weren’t all that prepared to think of you as the boots on the ground.

Take care of them for me, take care of him. You knew eventually things would catch up, that the reality of your absence would set in and that when it did they’d need you… and the next best thing was Rooster. You were always thinking eight steps ahead, it’s what made you a good friend and a good doctor, but right about now Rooster found it infuriating. You saw those eight steps ahead, you saw this getting on top of everyone at one point or another, and you made it Rooster’s problem. You knew Jake wouldn’t be able to offer much through his own worry and you wouldn’t have expected him to, but you expected it of Rooster.  

He found himself wishing you’d never connected, never bonded. He wished he hadn’t played Drops of Jupiter that very first night, hadn’t harmonized with you and pulled you out of your shell simply because he couldn’t help himself. He wished he hadn’t offered to tour houses on your behalf, hadn’t spent countless hours working alongside you to bring your vision to life. He wished you’d never looked his way because you saw him in a way that was terrifying, you understood him and you pushed him. You pushed him further in his rekindling with Maverick, and you pushed him right into Eliza’s arms because you knew what he needed and what he wanted.

He wished he’d never realized his infatuation with you wasn’t romantic, because maybe if he’d chalked it up to being an asshole with secret feelings for someone who belonged to the man who saved his life he wouldn’t be sitting here right now with worry eating a hole through his stomach. Maybe he would have distanced himself from you, kept things cordial and casual to protect his own heart, but he did realize. He did see that it wasn’t romantic and it never was, he was simply misreading his own emotions because he’d never had a friend like you before. He’d never admit it in the light of day because he found such terms ridiculous but you were his platonic soulmate, through and through. And right about now he wished he’d never figured that out.

He wished none of it had ever happened, because here he was sitting on the beach feeling so utterly helpless because you’d bestowed an impossible task on him and he couldn’t even be mad at you because he’d heard it. One minute he was telling you he loved you, on his way back into the bar to give you space with the man you really needed, the next you were under fire… and you seemed calm. In the face of it all, your tone hadn’t changed, your disposition hadn’t changed. You’d told Jake you loved him without an ounce of fear or apprehension in your tone and hung up, because this was a common occurrence for you now. In the face of it all, you were fine, and here he was sitting on the beach struggling to keep it together.

Except, he didn't wish any of those things at all because you were you, and he couldn't imagine not having you in his life. And so he was trying, because that’s what you’d asked of him. If you could do the impossible, if you could save lives with those two little hands of yours under gunfire or worse, he  could keep it together. He could do what you asked of him. He’d remain calm and collected, his usual goofy self to keep the anxiety at bay the best he could, because that’s what you needed. You’d asked for them, but really you’d asked for yourself. You needed to know Rooster was looking out for them so you didn’t have to worry, because you had enough to worry about. 

And that’s exactly what he did… he went back into the bar and got Jake a fresh drink, set him up in front of the dartboard with Coyote. He’d filled everyone in on what happened. She’ll be fine, this is her life now and she’s Jupiter. She’ll be fine and so will we because she doesn’t want us spinning out, she wants us here having fun with each other so that’s what we’re going to do.

And then he’d lingered, made sure everyone made it home safely and wandered out onto the beach to look at the stars and feel everything he knew you didn’t want him to. “There’s only so much you can ask of me, JJ,” he whispered to himself as he took in the mass of twinkling lights above him because he was choosing to believe you were under this sky too, and though you couldn’t hear him, maybe you could feel it. You could feel that he was keeping up his end of the promise, and that you needed to keep up yours. 

“I know I haven’t talked to you in a while dad, but… well, if you’ve been paying attention I don’t need to fill you in,” he started, openly talking into the night air because this was what he did. When it all got to be too much, when things started to get on top of him he looked to the sky and talked to Goose. “I don’t know if you’ve got any connections up there, I hope you didn’t use them all up sending Hangman after me and Mav but… she needs to come home. Please don’t let what happened to mom happen to Jake,” he said, choking on his words before clearing his throat. “Please don’t let what happened to Maverick happen to me. She’s my best friend, and I… I can’t lose her. Jake can’t lose her. None of us can.”

He was pleading because he knew he was right, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to uphold his promise to you if you didn’t come home. He wouldn’t be able to take care of Jake, or Coyote, or Phoenix… he wouldn’t be able to take care of himself. You swooped in as this mysterious old friend of Hangman’s and won everyone over in the course of an evening, and you only grew more important with each passing day. They’d all been friends before you, but in the wake of you they became a family. You were the glue, you were the last to join the group but you became the nexus, and if they lost you he didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t want to find out.

So he let himself cry, let a few tears slip before saying goodbye to his old man and packing it down. He couldn’t let himself spiral any more than he already had, and he couldn’t have you coming home to realize he hadn’t kept his promise when you’d kept yours. He spent the next day and a half being Rooster, he was goofy and borderline annoying but he kept everyone together, he made sure everyone kept their spirits high and their worry to a minimum, and he made sure Jake got out of bed. He did what he could, and in the end it was everything because there the squad was with beers in their hands and smiles on their faces as they watched Jake kick Coyote’s ass, because even though he was falling apart and he didn’t know if you were even alive, he’d never give anyone the satisfaction of ousting him at his own pool table.

“Any word?” Bob asked quietly to Phoenix who shook her head and when he let out a relieved sigh the few people in hearing distance snapped their attention to him, varying degrees of disbelief and disgust on their faces. “If she were dead we’d know by now.” he supplied, and while his lack of tact was surprising, Bob was always mindful of what he said and how he said it, this served to ease people’s nerves. He was right. If you were dead, Jake would have been notified by now and none of them would be standing around the bar.

“We’ll know when we know,” Rooster said before walking down to the bar to get a fresh drink but something stopped him in his tracks, a brief flash in the distance beyond the windows that had him questioning his grip on reality because it was gone just as quick as he’d seen it… but he could have sworn he saw you. He tried to push past it, blame it on fried nerves and too much on his plate but he couldn’t. He had to be certain so he pushed past those doors and tentatively stepped out onto the beach, “way to go, Rooster. You’ve officially lost it,” he muttered to himself as he peeked around the side of the building but he hadn’t lost it. He saw what he saw, and he stood there gobsmacked as he got full sight of you, your body facing outwards towards the ocean with your hair messily strewn across your shoulders and donning a standard issue uniform… minus the top which left you in a tight tank with a concerning amount of gauze wrapped around your arm.

“JJ?” he asked, approaching slowly and you startled, jumping as you turned to face him and he could see it clear as day. You were scared, and while the appropriate assumption would have been everything you’d gone through, maybe the story linked to those bandages, he knew you well enough to know that wasn’t it. There was something else keeping you outside the bar instead of reuniting with your family.

“Roo,” you started, but you didn’t have anything else to say so it fell flat. There were tears in your eyes and you looked relieved but that fear was just under the surface and his steps were fast to close the distance, wrapping you up in his arms as carefully as he could and he was almost taken aback by the way you gripped onto him, latching on with seemingly no intention of letting go.

“How long have you been out here?” he whispered into your hair and he felt you shudder beneath him.

“A while,” you answered, and he realized that shudder was a humorless laugh. “I didn’t… I don’t know why, I just couldn’t-” you tried but your voice was thick and you didn’t need to say anything more. He understood. He knew coming home would be difficult for you, especially under these circumstances, and he didn’t need you to explain that you weren’t out here because you wanted to be, but because you felt like you couldn’t go inside.

“I know. You’re home and that’s what matters,” he pulled back to look at you but he didn’t go far, keeping his grip firm on you because he had a feeling it was what you needed. Much like the way you’d loop your hand through his when you were telling a story, so animated and excited you could barely get the words out fast enough, because you needed the physical tether. You needed to feel grounded so you didn’t get swept away by whatever it was you were saying or thinking. 

“I uh…” you shook your head and cleared your throat. “I got evacuated, by the time this healed and I was cleared I’d be going home anyways,” you said, nodding to your shoulder. “I didn’t call and I-”

“Stop, you had bigger things going on,” Rooster said, cutting you off entirely. He had tears in his eyes looking down at you, your hands gripping his arms so tightly and your features so soft and vulnerable in stark contradiction to the khaki pants and clunky boots and suddenly he felt selfish. “Let me go get Jake,” he started, beginning to pull away from you but he stopped when your brows furrowed. “You don’t want me to?”

You shook your head, “no… no I do, I just… god, I keep doing everything wrong,” you sighed. “I signed up to go to war without so much as a heads up, I told you first, I… I couldn’t even call to tell him I was okay before just showing up and standing out here lost in my own thoughts for half an hour,” you let out another humorless chuckle. “I keep doing this wrong.”

“You’re doing the best you can. You know he doesn’t expect anything from you, right? He doesn’t have some grand idea about how this would go, he knows this isn’t going to be like your reunion at his tap out or at your match day,” he said and you smiled sadly.

“I forgot I told you those stories,” you said. 

“That’s not what he’s expecting, he’s… you know, he handled it better than I thought he would but he hasn’t been okay and that’s just because all he wants to know is that you are. He wants to know that you’re mostly in one piece, and he wants to hug you the way I am right now- well, okay… maybe not the way I am because it has been several months since you left and I would imagine-” he started to joke and you let out a laugh… a real one, and you went to push his shoulder, disentangling yourself from him but it only served to make you wince.

You shook your head when his eyes widened, “it’s okay, just sore. You’re right… will you- will you go get him? And be cryptic,” you said, referencing the way Jake had called Rooster out minutes before your call disconnected. “I don’t know if I’m ready for everyone yet.”

“On it,��� he replied, already moving to head inside.

“Wait, Rooster?” you called and he stopped, turning to face you. You gave him one of those blinding smiles, one that felt like a glimpse of the you before you left, the one that didn’t wear standard issue khakis and clunky boots, the one that wasn’t harder and shaper, and the one that hadn’t confessed to him you didn’t know if you were okay. You gave him that smile that was so you as you ran and jumped into him, squeezing him so tightly it sucked all the air from his lungs and he laughed as he caught you, twirling you around. “Thank you.” 

“What for, JJ?” 

“For being my person.” 

“Thanks for coming home,” he replied and you gave him one more squeeze before dropping down to the ground and he gave you a nod before disappearing inside. You resumed your earlier pacing, already feeling lighter after seeing Rooster and for as selfish and awful as you felt for always getting this wrong with Jake, it took the edge off. It made seeing him feel less daunting, and while you’d spent the previous half hour working yourself into a tizzy about how he would react or what he would say you now felt silly. Rooster was right, all he wanted right now was you, just like you wanted him. He wouldn’t be mad at you for not calling, he wouldn’t be mad at you for having a reunion with Rooster first, he would simply be your Jake. 

“What the hell is so urgent with your precious truck? I don’t even want to be here but you made me and now you’re ruining my streak,” you heard Jake complaining as the door to the bar opened and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you waited for them to round the corner.

“Okay, first of all, it’s not a truck, it’s a Bronco,” Rooster corrected, “and once again you might not want to be so hard on me when you see what it is,” he added and you couldn’t fight the smile on your face. You weren’t okay and you knew that, but you would be because you had them. You had your people and you were home, and that’s all that mattered.

“What does that- what the fuck?” You’d walked closer, not wanting the distance to be any further than it already was when he rounded the corner and he nearly walked right into you. “Jupiter?” he asked, blinking in surprise and simply staring at you because he couldn’t be certain what he was seeing was real. 

“Hey you,” you replied, ignoring the single tear that streamed down your cheek and you let out a laugh as he crushed you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and forcing your legs around him to keep your balance. 

Rooster stood and watched for a moment, soaking in this moment of unbridled joy between his two best friends before taking his leave. “So much for it not being like the tap out,” he said and you mouthed thank you to him over Jake’s shoulder as he went back inside. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, one hand firm on your waist and the other cupping your thigh as you pulled back slightly to look down at him, to commit that beautiful face of his gazing up at you with pure adoration to memory.

“It’s a long story and I… I’m not ready to talk about it yet,” you answered and he nodded, slowly lowering you to the ground to cup your face and press a kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t have to, not until you’re ready, I just…” he pulled back to look at you again and the emotion in his eyes cracked your heart wide open, and with it the flood of anxiety and uncertainty you’d pushed aside. “I was so worried something had happened.”

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” you started, that single tear giving way to an onslaught and his face crumpled at the sight. “I should have called, I should have-”

“Hey, no no no… that’s not what I meant,” he said, trying to reassure you as he smoothed his hands along your back. “I’m just so happy you’re home,” he said, trying to quell your tears but it was no use. He finally got a chance to really look at you, to soak you in and his heart broke when he noticed the bandages around your arm and you started to shake your head.

“Come on, come sit with me?” you asked and he nodded, catching one of your hands as you walked further out onto the beach and sank into the sand and he looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to find the words. You didn’t know if you were ready to talk about it yet but you needed to, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to let it go no matter how hard he tried to be supportive. “What you heard… we got ambushed, I’m still not entirely sure what happened but uh… it wiped most of the camp out,” you said, voice shaking and Jake tried to keep his feelings off his face as you spoke. “My call to Rooster saved my life, anyone that was near the command center-” you cut yourself off with a shake of your head and he squeezed your hand in reassurance. “I did what I could, I tried to get to as many people as I could but there wasn’t enough time, or enough hands and I got caught in the crossfire,” you said, gesturing to your arm. “It was a lucky shot, if you could even call it that. I’ll be okay, just not cleared to work yet which is why I’m home. It’ll be another few weeks before I am and at that point my deployment would have been over.”

“J, I’m so sorry…” he started, his hand gently cupping your arm just beneath the bandages. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he said, pulling you into him and you moved into his lap to wrap your arms around him more easily, not paying any mind to the way you felt your stitches tugging.

“I’ll be okay. I can’t… I don’t think I can tell you any more, not right now.” You pulled away to look at him seriously, “it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… things are different over there, I was different over there. I did things and I saw things I can’t begin to unpack right now but I want you to know that I plan to set something up at the hospital, a specialist to talk to so I can sort it out. I just… right now I really need everything to just go back to normal.”

“There’s no rush, sweetheart. You’ll tell me when you’re ready and if you never do, well… that’s alright too, as long as you talk to someone. All I cared about was you getting back home to me, even if Rooster had to get the first look at you,” he teased and you pouted.

“In my defense he wandered out and found me, that wasn’t intentional,” you protested.

“Yeah sure, whatever… the pornstache is your person and I just have to deal with that.”

“He might be my person but you’re the love of my life, you know that right? You are who got me through everything over there, and you are who I thought about day in and day out.”

“Oh yeah? And what exactly is it you thought about?” he asked, that famous smirk of his playing on his lips and you rolled your eyes.

“The audacity to call Rooster pornstache when you are trying to put the moves on your wife who just got back from war!” you laughed and he shifted you in his lap, pulling your leg to the side so you were straddling him and the contact on your core elicited a reaction that completely undercut the way you were trying to tease him.

“You did say you wanted everything to go back to normal,” he muttered, letting his lips trail along the column of your neck and he was right… you did want everything to go back to normal and this was something you’d thought about every moment you could while you were gone. 

“This is utterly indecent,” you sighed, feeling him growing hard beneath you and you pushed him back because if he kept going you’d scandalize the beach. “And mind you we are both in our uniforms right now,” you added.

“Yeah, by the way? This is super hot,” he said, letting his eyes trail over you appreciatively. “You’ve got a real Lara Croft thing going on right now and I’m into it.”

“Lara Croft!” you laughed, “she never even wore pants.”

“Please let me objectify my super hot, super tough wife in peace, thank you,” he said, and as you stared down at him you realized you hadn’t kissed him yet and you couldn’t believe you’d overlooked it. You pressed your lips to his softly, all pent up love and emotion but quickly it turned hungry… all tongues and biting lips as you gripped his biceps. 

“Take me home then, objectify me all you want, Lieutenant,” you said, pulling away to catch your breath and his eyes darkened as he was quick to stand pulling you up with him and you couldn’t help the squeals and laughter falling from your lips as he hurled you over his shoulder. You felt everything in your life right now was unsteady, you had no idea to come back to civility after what you’d been through but you had the tools to do it the best you could, and more importantly you had Jake who was everything you needed him to be and more. 

There wasn’t any sort of guidebook you could follow, and you didn’t know if this was how your return should have gone. You thought maybe you should be more damaged, you shouldn’t be laughing as your husband ran across the beach with you in tow, or maybe that’s exactly what you should have been doing. You didn’t really know, and you didn’t really care because you were home, and whatever came next you’d handle as it came with Jake by your side.

taglist: @mamaskillerqueen @clancycucumber230 @the-romanian-is-bae @alldaysdreamers @zzsloth @emma8895eb @novagreen04 @classyunknownlover @purplevortexx @mamachasesmayhem @ohgodnotagainn @smoothdogsgirl @swiftsgirlfriend @memoriesat30 @the-fandom-ness @midnightmagpiemama @charles11700 @angelbabyange @wildxwidow @sp1rit-realm @alluringshawn @taytaylala12 @starcatcher48 @buck-nasty @misshoneypaper @4evinlovewithfictionalmen @devil-angel-winchester @mamamaystbr @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pona-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @toobouquet @a-v-a123 @rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me @86laura11 @justenoughmadnesss @yoonbutterfly @mariaenchanted @boisewaffles @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi @lostinwonderland314 @elenavampire21 (if your name is struck through, it means I couldn't tag you - so sorry!)

[satureja13]

New Chapter!

It's already the Boys' last day at Batuu. They are trying to catch a shuttle to the orbit soon, where Great 'A'Tuin waits. So they can celebrate Winterfest together with the Little Ones.

Poor Jack, Vlad and Ji Ho didn't get to see a lot from Batuu since they'd been 'indisposed' after they'd gotten arrested. So they split up for a second tour. Jack looked longingly at the Millennium Falcon: "Even though it had been traumatic down in the cell block, I don't want to leave..." Kiyoshi: "You can be so proud of yourself. How you handled being locked up. I was so worried I thought I'd faint too. I hope Sai will change his mind about disabling Tiny Can. He helped us a lot." Jack: "It's also thanks to you I survived it. Having you by my side again." Kiyoshi: "I hope one day you can fully accept me again - and I can make it up to you. For all the times I'd let you down and failed you." Jack sighed: "You didn't fail me - I can see that now. It's not your fault I'm a mess. Neither your responsibility. We might be fated mates, but I don't want to burden you. I'm a lot. I know that." And Kiyoshi knows he can't change Jack's mind and how he feels about them, they'd already discussed this. And he doesn't want to taint their last day here with heavy discusions, so he just said: "We will find our way, hm?" Jack: "We will."

Jeb and Sai passed by a little apartment complex and even though Jeb is not a Star Wars fan, he is amazed by the architecture here. And the vibes. He wishes he could live in one of those little apartments, together with Saiwa. But he also knows Saiwa needs his own place. Jeb still doesn't know how to continue their relationship and in which way they should go with their so different needs. Jeb wants Sai close but he can't woohoo him and Sai wants to woohoo him and needs his distance...

Seems Sai has the same thoughts as sad as he looks... Jeb: "We will find our way, hm?" Sai: "We will." Jeb is right. They just brought peace to Batuu by just sitting in jail, half of them not even conscious... They will manage this too. Soon they will be on board of Great A'Tuin again. And after they celebrated Winterfest, they will start their search for Tiny Can and the meteorites... and face whatever else awaits them out here. Lots of time to figure them out. Sai deeply inhaled Jeb's scent. He feels so save in his arms.

Ji Ho found another venue of the 'Escape from Batuu' book. The place where Val and Jino kissed before their escape.

Ji Ho: "Ehm..."

Courtesy of their dizzyness from the stun and shutdown, for once Vlad didn't overthink it and just went with the vibe - with a little kick from their Bond... And the guy in the background was lucky he got a glimpse of a Val and Jino moment :3

A few hours later, they all met at the Cantina. And while Vlad coaxed Jeb, Kiyoshi and Ji Ho to play Sabacc at a real Sabacc table, Sai and Jeb have a few questions for Hondo before they leave. Saiwa: "You told us the Book is fanfiction, but everything turned out as true..." Hondo: "What? That would be... Let me see." Jack showed him his copy again.

Hondo took a closer look this time. Hondo: "Huh, you're right! Jino and Master Ren, Val kidnapping Jino, you causing trouble in the whole galaxy... To be honest, I've never seen this book. Thought you were talking about the other books about you!" Jack: "The other books?" Hondo: "The lewd ones?" Saiwa lowered his voice: "There are lewd ones? About Val and Jino?" Hondo laughed: "Don't tell me you never heard of them? We really thought you'd written them yourselves! They're not just about Val and Jino. About Jino and Master Ren. Colin and Val... Any combination you can imagine. They are legendary! Everyone reads them!"

Jack is about to faint. A lewd book about Colin and Val? = Kiyoshi and Vlad! Had he and Kiyoshi not been together in that timeline? Saiwa's head is spinning - he doesn't even want to ask, but he needs to know. So with a thin voice he asked: "About me too?" Hondo: "Sure! We've all seen your laced panties!" Saiwa squealed: "There are even pictures?" Hondo: "That's the main reason we thought you wrote them yourself. Who else could have made those photos?" Ok, now Sai just wants to die from embarrassment, right here and now. And if Colin and Val were a ship in these books, in which ship was he? Whom did he show his laced panties? From the Sabacc table, Val shouted: "Hey, what are you talking about?" Jack and Sai: "NOTHING!"

As if on cue, the Little Goats and Kumo manifested. Until yesterday, they'd thought Batuu was boring and rather stayed at the ship with Skully, Malfoy and Axl, the axolotl. But they's secretly followed the Boys today. Watching Jino and Vlad kiss had been the highlight of the day - until now. It seems they found a little flea market stand.

Vendor: "How can I help you, guys?" Little Goat: 'Tell him we are looking for some very special books.'

Little Goat 'nudged' the Vendor's shin with his spiky horns and nodded his little head towards the book stacks... Vendor: "Oh - I see! Let me show you."

TMI: When I started the last chapter I was having a hard time deciding between 'Piglets is Space' and 'Goats in Space'. And now, that this space stuff expands, I'll divide it into two chapters - and i can have both! :3

'One, two, three, four

Are you hanging up a stocking on your wall? It's the time that every Santa has a ball Does he ride a red-nosed reindeer? Does it ton-up on his sleigh? Do the fairies keep him sober for a day?

So here it is, Merry Christmas Everybody's having fun Look to the future now It's only just begun'

Slade – Merry Xmas Everybody

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

'Piglets in Space Chapter': starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[p-redux]

Gia has liked 2 of his posts in the past 2 weeks.

Hi Anon. Gia Marie, Sam's ex is liking his pics again. Interesting that she liked the one he posted from Los Angeles. She lives in Los Angeles, so maybe just a way to say hi...or reconnect. 🤔🤷��♀️👇

BUT, a few of Sam's other exes are also liking his recent pics. Check it out. Sarah Holden liked this one 👇

Alice Panikian liked this one 👇

BUT the MOST interesting "blast from the past" like for me was this one from none other than Sam's ex from 2014, Cody Kennedy. Sam posted pics 10 years apart--2014 when Outlander started and 2024 when it ended. And guess who liked it? Yep, Ms. Cody Kennedy. 👇

But do you know WHY she liked it? Because it reminded her of when she and Sam dated in 2014 and toured the backlots of Sony and Universal Studios.

Let's do a walk through memory lane...

On October 24, 2014 Cody Kennedy posted on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook, showing that she'd been to the Back To The Future exhibit. And Sam Heughan liked her pics, commented on her pics, and she mentioned HE TOOK her pic. 👇

Here she mentions on her Twitter account the Back To The Future 88mph reference. And Sam leaves a comment on her Instagram calling her "88.8mph girl." 👇 I'm waxing nostalgic for the innocent times of yesteryear, when Sam would actually leave comments on his date's accounts. 🥹

Here he is liking her Instagram pic. 👇 And, below that, is Cody on her Facebook, directly mentioning that Sam Heughan took the pic! I'm getting all misty eyed just thinking about it, hahaha. 😊

And we'll, lookie, lookie, WHO else had to pop in and remind us she was also part of Sam's 2014 memories...none other than Sam's long time friend, ex costar and ex FWB, Ms. Amy Shiels. 🤗🙃👇

Imagine a Barbie Wars Part Deux between Amy Shiels and Cody Kennedy ten years later?!?! Hahaha.

PS. For those who weren't around back then, the Barbie Wars is a term I coined to refer to the few weeks in late 2014 when Amy Shiels and Cody Kennedy aka Barbie 1 and Barbie 2, engaged in a public social media catfight over one fine, Mr. Sam Heughan. I wrote an 11 part series giving all the details with screenshots to prove it. Just search my blog or Google #barbiewars or #thebarbiewars and you can read all the drama from back then.

Anyhoo, everyone has moved on, and this is abundantly clear since Amy AND Cody are still cool with Sam, and continue to like his posts. Like I always say, that Samshine was born under a lucky star, and no one can resist that golden, delicious, Scottish charm. No one. Facts. 🤷‍♀️❤️

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 26: Gallifrey at War Part 4

TW: classic Gallifrey at War death, destruction, and violation of autonomy

Cass Fermazzi's ship was crashing only because the Time Lords had indiscriminately opened fire on a group of ships.

The War in Heaven had 920 fronts across space and time.

The Twelfth Doctor assisted the General in the War Room while the first thirteen incarnations of the Doctor were working to freeze Gallifrey in a pocket universe.

The Beyond was a place created by the Last Great Time War where overwritten timelines got remembered. While here, Braxiatel was devoured by one of the Ravenous.

This specific Ravenous had once been Zara, a soldier in the Last Great Time War who was being forced to relive the explosion of a star she had gotten caught up in over and over again.

Lehena had Susan go back to 1963 Earth to collect the Hand of Omega. Unfortunately, she had been a Dalek duplicate, and the Daleks wanted to use the Hand to destroy Gallifrey. The Eighth Doctor recognized Lehena as a duplicate of a Time Lord in the year above him at the Academy that he had had a massive crush on.

The Venue Accords were the only attempt at a peace treaty made during the War in Heaven. Negotiations lasted a single picosecond, and they concluded that peace was impossible.

The Tharils, Porfue, and Krajonnu were all forcibly sterilized by Rassilon during the Last Great Time War to ensure that there would be no other time-traveling races to threaten the might of Gallifrey.

The Clock-People were humanoids with clockfaces instead of human ones. They were the remains of members of the Faction Paradox clinging to life after the War in Heaven. They could manipulate and corrupt others' biodata to insert themselves in their timelines.

During Remembrance of the Daleks before stopping at Harry's cafe, the Seventh Doctor was contacted by the same Time Lord messenger from Genesis of the Daleks (by some accounted named Jelpax, Valyes, Ferrain, etc). The Time Lord warned the Doctor of a counterstrike that was being made by the Daleks - part of the Last Great Time War. The Doctor became concerned for the Hand of Omega and ended up electrocuting a Slyther that the Daleks had been using to obtain it.

During the Last Great Time War, the Doctor and the Master were both hit with a degeneration gun, causing them to uncontrollably flick between all their different faces, including ones they hadn't even had yet.

Once Padrac had become a member of the High Council, he discovered that Gallifrey would be destroyed in the future, possibly by time war, invasion, etc. The only projected future where Gallifrey would survive was the future in which only Gallifrey remained, so Padrac set about to destroy the whole universe and convert their life force into regeneration energy to make the Time Lords immortal.

A tour operator took advantage of Gallifrey's fall after the War in Heaven to organize time tourism. They said that since the Time Lords and the Enemy used time travel to pre-empt each other, the War was continuously getting shorter, its climax getting closer and closer to present day.

The Tenth Doctor became embroiled in the Last Great Time War again when the War Master sent him telepathic summons. During this time, both of them were restrained and telepathically contained by the High Vectors (to be put on trial and probably erased), but the Master managed to escape and erase them before this could happen. The Master then retrieved the Doctor, and they parted ways.

Scarlette - one of the many who had at one point married the Doctor - was a child of the Faction Paradox's remembrance tanks in Pompeii.

Two other time wars that predate the Last Great Time War include the Halldon-Eternal skirmish and the Omnicraven Uprising.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

[litcityblues]

'Diplomatic Immunity' --A Review

I know it's actually May, but a new year means that I am continuing ahead on the Honorverse Saga and now I'm dipping back into the Vorkosigan Saga as well with the 13th Book in the Series, Diplomatic Immunity.

The book opens with Miles and Ekaterin on their honeymoon, wrapping up an extensive tour of various galactic sites before heading back to Barrayar just in time to open the replicators and welcome their two new children to the world. This being the Vorkosigan Saga and Miles being a (relatively) new Imperial Auditor, they naturally get diverted to deal with a diplomatic crisis in Quaddiespace.

Quaddies- if you are not familiar with the series are genetically modified humans who traded out their legs for a second set of arms so they could live and move more easily in a zero gravity work environment (Falling Free, which Is set 200 years before the start of the main series is sort of their origin story-- I'll get to that eventually, I promise.). Anyway, as it turns out, a convoy of Komarran Merchant ships is prevented from leaving Graf Station thanks to the somewhat reckless behavior of their Barrayaran military escorts, and to top that mess off, a Barrayaran security officer is missing, presumed murdered and another Ensign has deserted: for love.

Miles and Ekaterin arrive and Miles begins the process of untangling the diplomatic mess, only to be reunited with an old friend: his former Dendarii colleague, the Betan hermaphrodite Bel Thorne (last seen in Mirror Dance or possibly Memory I think-- no longer with the Dendarii, but still working with Imperial Security.) Bel is happy to see Miles, but hints that they would like to be released from Imperial Service so they can settle down with Nicol (a Quaddie musician Miles met earlier in the series while in Jackson's Whole-- in 'Labyrinth') and Bel tells Miles that there is something strange about the missing security officer, but they can't quite figure out what it is.

In short order, Miles discovers that he's in the middle of a plot by a renegade Cetagandan Ba to kidnap what turns out to be an entire cargo of embryos stolen directly from the Star Creche itself that it hijacked near Rho Ceta. Miles instantly realizes that this spells big trouble and a potential war between Barrayar and Cetaganda-- but before he can put a stop to it himself both he and Bel are infected with the same highly lethal bioweapons that was used to murder the missing Barrayarn security officer and nearly die, but manage to reach the nearest Cetagandan world just in time. They cure both him and Bel- though not without both suffering some permanent side effects and he returns the embryos to Cetaganda, averting a war and managing to make it home with Ekaterin in time to meet their new children.

I switched from snagging these on Audible to getting them off Kindle around about Memory I think and that was, oddly enough, the perfect time in the series to do that because as Miles transitions away from the Dendarii and into the role of Imperial Auditor-- I don't want to say the quality of the writing improves, because that's not true, it's always been good-- let's just say that the series matures with its character and the writing reflects that.

Diplomatic Immunity might be the first in the series that has so many callbacks to prior volumes. I don't think you have to read other books in the series to understand this-- McMaster Bujold has always been good at providing context for readers, even if it's only a sentence or two-- but it does add an extra dollop of charm as you get to meet characters from prior novels. I don't know if we're scheduled to see Bel Thorne again in future novels, but if not, then I think this is a nice, (relatively) happy ending for them and I like that. I also enjoyed the fact that this tied back to the events that happened in Cetaganda quite nicely as well-- for all the talk of the war with Cetaganda and how it hangs over a lot of the Barryaran experience, this is only the third time that Miles has tangled with them directly.

(Also, am I the only one who thought that Dubauer being called Dubauer was going to be a callback to Shards of Honor?)

I saw a recent Reddit post proclaiming McMaster Bujold as 'the most underrated writer' in SF/F and while the comments were quick to point out that she's got plenty of Hugos and Nebulas that would indicate that she's very rated and appreciated and has commercial success to boot, I would characterize her as perhaps 'the most discoverable' writer in SF/F? At 74, her output is not what it was at the height of her run in the late 80s, and early 90s and I know damn well that if I had found these books as a kid, I would have eaten them up instantly. Finding them now, in adulthood-- I can't tell you just how happy these books make me and how much I love these characters, and how I desperately wish someone who treasures these books would work up a screen adaptation because they are RIPE for the taking.

Overall: Excellent, enjoyable, delightful, charming, a great addition to the series and I ran right through this book because I just didn't want to put it down. My Grade: **** out of ****

[hauntingkiki]

would you be able to write some venture fluff with a translator reader? language doesn’t matter, but i would prefer not spanish so they don’t speak it ^-^

omg that’s a good idea!!

yall are so creative omg i love it😭

Ihr persönlicher Übersetzer, Liebes

Venture x German! Reader

Overwatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

note: all german text will be shown like this -> hello!

~~

eichenwalde.

a beautiful, rundown place in germany, which was home to the battle of eichenwalde which reinhardt was apart of.

winston had decided to have a match here in germany, and rein took the initiative to go a few days earlier to reminisce, and a few of overwatch’s heroes decided to tag along to get a first hand tour around town.

and, of course, sloan wouldn’t dare to decline such an offer.

that’s where you all were, mindlessly walking about the stone streets of eichenwalde as rein talked about the battle, talked about each placed that was in the town because everything had a story for him, and he was more than happy to share them.

as the warrior continued his lesson- well, it was more of a ramble than anything- in one of the bars that he visited, sloan could hardly keep it together.

notebook in hand, they wrote down notes of all the things rein was talking about, sketching small drawings of the different places and random objects that caught their eye.

“-and with beer in hand, i stood up whist raising my glass.” rein grabbed a old, wooden cup, pushing himself away from the bar and throwing the cup into the air. “and i said; if i die, you all can say i died with glory!” he let out a laugh, the small group of you cheering with a small applause.

sloan slowly leaned over to angela, holding out the book and pencil for her to write the german dialogue with the english meaning.

“hun.” you called softly, placing a hand on sloan’s forearm which caught their attention. your eyes bounced from their face and to their notebook, quick doodles of you filled the empty spaces. “maybe you should put that way…you’re very distracted right now.”

sloan slowly closed the book, their pencil slipping into in between the pages as they adjusted their seated position, their left elbow propped onto the table you of two, plus some of the others, were sitting at. “i will, i will, it’s just…” they sighed, a callous hand running through their hair as they spoke, glancing off to the side before opening their notebook again, flipping through the pages. “i’ve just been struggling with what this says. i don’t want to bother angela and rein cause they’re having a great time talking to each other, but i don’t know who else to ask?” they stopped on a page that had a sentence in german, question marks surrounding the words with small notes like, ‘what does this mean?’, ‘is it a warning about the war?’ and other conspiracy theories that flooded their head.

you hummed as you leaned your head on their shoulder, reading over the letters a few dozen times before letting out a small gasp with a faint chuckle. “that says ‘here lies n/n l/n. pardon me for not rising’.” you gigged out, peeling your head away from their shoulder and looking them in their eyes.

their jaw dropped slightly, their eyes vast as they stutter out random syllables. their attention darted from the writing and back to you for a few seconds, their mouth opening and closing as they tried to find the right words. “you-you uh…you know german?” they managed to croak out, their face twisting in different expressions, it was hard to tell what they were feeling in the moment.

you slowly nodded, gulping as you glanced off to the side then back to sloan, their eyes practically stars from how much they’re sparkling. “uhhh…yeah…?.” you held out, chuckling awkwardly as you scratched your cheek. “i’m fully german and fluent in it.”

their finger pressed against the page, tapping it a few times as they spoke. “and…and you wrote this?” they gasped, their cheeks pink as a small smile cracked at their lips.

you nodded again, humming in agreement as you fiddled with your thumbs, picking at the skin that surrounded your nail beds. “yeah, when i was like nine; i was stupid when i was younger.” you whined, rubbing your forehand with your hand before running it through your hair. “my mom sent me to the library since i was failing my classes and she wanted me to study.” you waved your free hand around vaguely, cringing as the vivid memory popped into your mind.

sloan smiled brightly, jumping out of their seat with your hand locked into their left one while their right held their notebook. “tell me EVERYTHING from your childhood!” they laughed, excusing the two of you from the group as they dragged you out of the bar.

you laughed as you stumbled after them, catching yourself before chasing after them. “fine, fine!” you caved in, waving your free hand around as sloan cheered excitedly. “i’m not the best teacher, so, my apologies.” you scratched the back of your head, the two of you slowing your pace into a comfortable walk.

sloan gently kissed your temple, a small squeeze came from their left hand. “i’m sure you’d be fantastic, mi amor.” they gushed, smiling as the pecked your lips before dragging you back to the library where your carving was.

•••

“no, no no no.” you giggled, scooting closer to your partner as you bright a finger up towards your lips, slowing down the pronunciation. “my…name…is…” you held out, smiling faintly.

“my…name…is…” sloan dragged out with you, their mouth moving funny as they spoke in your native tongue. “sloan…camron.”

you sucked in a breath, laughing loudly as you tacked them into a hug, the two of you falling over, sloan on their back with you on their chest. “THERE YOU GO!!” you beamed through your fits of laughter.

sloan laughed along with you, their face burrowing into your neck as they softly peppered kisses along your neck and up to your jaw until they met at your lips. “see? you are a fantastic teacher.” they teased, gently pushing you up before sitting up immediately afterwards. they gently jabbed their elbow into your side, making you pinch their cheek playfully.

your hands cupped together in your lap, your eyes watching as your thumbs twirled around one another. “ah, it’s nothing.” you shrugged the compliment off, glancing at them before turning back to your lap. “that’s considered ‘easy’ german. wait until you get into the other conversation starters.”

sloan gulped at the sentence, giggling nervously as a hand shot up to their neck. “maybe i’ll just stick to spanish.” they joked, making you huff a small laugh. they wrapped their right arm around your shoulders, their fingers brushing against your shoulder blade in a comforting manner. “hey, but thank you for teaching me. it may seem stupid, but it’s really sweet of you.”

your face flushed a soft pink, rolling your eyes playfully as you leaded into your partner, your eyes fluttering close. “ah, don’t sweat it, love.” you grinned, looking up at them through your lashes. “hey, i’ll even be your personal translator for when you have explorations up here in germany!” you pinched at their side, earning a ‘aye!’ from your lover.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

idk why but i feel like i struggled writing this😓 like i had all of my ideas for this but i wouldn’t thread them together😭

BUT! i hope you enjoyed nonetheless!:)

[legacygirlingreen]

A New Era…

See what I did there… because it’s the eras tour… and the start of a new era for me fandom wise… I’ll let myself out 😭

Hi friends,

I know it’s definitely been a while since we had a little fireside chat of sorts. I never wanted to be that person who posted this big long rant with nasty call outs or annoyed remarks. But, I have to be honest. I am really, really growing to find writing for Hogwarts Legacy to be a chore. It used to come by so naturally and I’ve lost a lot of the enjoyment due to fandom fighting, the lack of a real update with the recent announcements and just some honestly, nasty anon asks I’ve received over the last few weeks.

I have a lot going on in my personal life right now and with that, it’s caused this fandom to feel more like a burden than an escape. I have surgery coming up and it just doesn’t feel like the supportive, loving, atmosphere it once did in so many ways… So for a while I think I’m going to shift gears until I find the energy to return to my works.

Having been on tumblr for a long time, I’m sick of starting over with every shift in fandom interest so I have decided to leave this tumblr, add to it and let it be a hybrid of my interests. I will return to working on my HL content, I just don’t have a set date for it.

To those who will likely depart this blog due to this announcement, thank you for the support. I hope life treats you well. To those willing to jump to a side project I’ve been working on, I’m excited to bring you all along. And to those who may soon find this blog from other spaces, welcome.

I just really need a break from what I’ve been doing and I’ve found inspiration elsewhere in the meantime.

Thank you all for being understanding and know that I have truly enjoyed the ride with this blog so far and hope to continue to do so as I post a project that I’ve been inspired by the finale season of the Bad Batch to write. I won’t give way too much, but I’ve got 50k words on my hard drive so far and I’m still going for our favorite mechanical engineer, pilot, riot racing, definitely not dead in my delulu: Tech

(If anyone actually is interested in a teaser I would love to share)

Once again, I hope this can be a discourse. Let me know your thoughts, opinions, etc. if you are willing to give other content a try and aren’t so familiar with the animated side of Star Wars I will gladly send you a guide I made for my best friend to aid. She has no knowledge of the animated series, and as someone who went to film school purely for my love of the clone wars, this return to the universe in many ways has felt like coming home. It’s where I have always felt the most safe. It’s where I always felt the most inspired. I am just overall so thankful to have found joy in writing once again as I feel like I lost it for a while there.

I am sorry if I have disappointed anyone, I just really need a break from HL creating until I sort out my life. I’ll still lurk on my lovely mutuals since I do love you all so dearly. @eternalremorse @writing-intheundercroft to name a few. I also owe this wonderful fandom for my best friend in the whole world. It’s a love of mine, right now I think we would be better on a break… if that makes sense…

That being said, I am so, so, SO thankful for the last year (plus a few months but who’s counting) with you all. I really do look forward to eventually coming back. Right now, I just would love to explore other avenues while I’m feeling so drained.

That’s all for now but I hope to post new content soon,

- M 💚

PS : to anyone who’s found this under TBB tags… I’m a bit nervous to dive back in to the Star Wars realm since I deleted all my old ST fics but I’m ready to try again…

[pastel-kaleesh]

Introducing the crew of the Phoenix Starcruiser, Captain Maari, Kali, Kai, Jae, and Saya!

The aurebesh says "Phoenix Starcruiser" and I wanted to do something different for these sequel era characters and give them an oldies sci-fi feel. Well, first time Star Tours thought of the idea of using an organic crew with silly uniforms instead of droids hehe

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Timeline: Part 10 - December 11-31 2017

For earlier timeline posts: click here or here.

There's a limit to how many links you can put in a tumblr post. Who knew. Anyway, continuing where we left off...

12/11/2017: Andrew Morton announces new biography of Meghan. Rebecca English writes about Meghan's yoga influencing. Meghan's "Sexy Santa" costume from Deal or No Deal is republished. Kensington Palace announces William and Kate's trip to Sweden and Norway, and The Times debunks The Crown.

12/12/2017: Harry and his friends kill 15 boars during German hunting trip (Meghan's not happy). Harry and Meghan take credit for William and Kate showing a little PDA on an engagement, while Meghan merches her parka. Later, William and Harry attend the Star Wars premiere.

12/13/2017: Kensingon Palace officially confirms Meghan is spending Christmas with the royals. Meghan is revealed as Google's most-searched celebrity of 2017. Meghan merches her handbags, especially Strathberry's, and modernizes the monarchy.

A UK survey finds that a majority of their respondents are unhappy with Harry's engagement:

67% of women surveyed are devastated by the engagement announcement.

20% of overall respondents prefer Harry to be single.

57% of respondents are against Harry marrying Meghan.

And Meghan leaks that Kate has taken her under her wing to protect her from negative parts of royal life. She tells The Express that "Harry is like a brother to Kate and she has never seen him so happy."

12/14/2017: Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury, announces that he expects to preside over the royal wedding. In the morning, the royals attend a service for Grenfell Tower at St. Paul's Cathedral (Meghan isn't allowed) and they gather again in the afternoon for The Queen's annual Windsor Christmas luncheon at Buckingham Palace (Meghan is invited). In the evening, the Kensington Palace Christmas party is held at a nearby restaurant that Harry and Meghan may or may not have attended (it's claimed they left early) while William and Kate are papped leaving.

Meghan merches Strathberry again and she is named the #4 Fashion Influencer of the Year, besting Kate who comes in at #5. (I really doubt Kate cares about this.)

12/15/2017: Kensington Palace announces the wedding date. Palace gift shops begin selling engagement memorabilia. Harry visits Sandhurst Academy and awards Cadet of the Year. Idris Elba shows support for Meghan while Meghan merches tea tree oil.

12/16/2017: Meghan teases a Canada tour post-wedding again.

12/17/2017:

The Daily Mail reminds us that Meghan is attending royal Christmas.

Harry announces that he has interviewed Barack Obama for BBC Radio 4 Today, but the interview won't air until the end of the month.

Meghan used to work at a yogurt store in LA as a teenager and everyone just loved her.

William's diary clash: Harry scheduled his wedding on the same day as the FA Cup Final, which William usually attends.

To prep The Queen and Prince Philip for spending Christmas with Meghan, Harry says he has shown them clips of Meghan in Suits.

Windsor hotels begin to profit off the wedding by marketing Meghan and Harry.

12/18/2017: The Cambridges release their Christmas card photo and Kensington Palace announces that Charlotte will begin nursery school in the new year. Meghan is voted one of the UK's ideal Christmas dinner guests and she leaks that The Queen likes her better than Kate but Buckingham Palace hits back with a denial.

12/19/2017: William and Kate attend the Royal Variety Performance. Meghan tries to ride their coattails by hinting she and Harry may be their guests and Harry is appointed Captain General Royal Marines, succeeding Philip.

Sketches of potential wedding dresses are published/leaked again.

Doria is papped at a LA laundromat.

Meet Meghan's lookalike

Will Meghan have to curtsey to Kate?

Meghan is crowned Hello Magazine's "Woman of the Year."

12/20/2017: Meghan hypes up her Kate-like style makeover from the Windsor Christmas luncheon at Buckingham Palace and merches her dress again. More wedding dress sketches are published.

12/21/2017: The royal engagement photos are published and:

Prince Philip and The Queen leave London for Sandringham.

Meghan modernizes the monarchy.

Meghan merches Ralph & Russo.

Body language analysis

Yorkies are papped at Soho House.

Meghan leaks that The Queen wants her and Harry to have a prenup and that she (Meghan) is hurt the family thinks she has an ulterior motive for marrying Harry. (Well...) In the same article, Meghan teases her and Harry's individual net worths and hints at the wedding budget - £22 million minimum overall cost and her dress budget is £375,000.

Harry debunks Meghan's PR about the prenup, saying no one asked for one and that William and Kate don't have one so they don't need one.

Meghan v Kate fashion showdown over their engagement photos.

12/22/2017:

Princess Michael's Blackamoor brooch controversy kicks off.

Cambridge vs Sussex engagement portraits showdown

Meghan merches her Ralph & Russo gown again

Press criticism of the engagement photos begin

Meghan takes credit for Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner posing together.

12/23/2017: Meghan announces that Guy has broken two legs in an unprecedented Kensington Palace statement and her lookalike does a wedding dress photoshoot.

12/24/2017: Meghan leaks that Harry will not participate in the royal family's Boxing Day shoot because it would upset her.

12/25/2017: Meghan joins the royal family on their Christmas Church Walk. She merches her coat and her hat is the stuff of poo memes.

12/26/2017: Criticism from Meghan's Christmas Church Walk continues with coverage on her curtsey fail and sticking her tongue out. Meghan also merches her outfit again.

12/27/2017: Harry's interview with Barack Obama is finally released. He makes a "we're the family she never had" comment that sets the Markles off. Harry also bans blood diamonds from Meghan's jewelry and Meghan merches her lip gloss.

12/28/2017: Some poor media intern who listened to the Harry/Obama interview realizes that Harry invited the Obamas to the wedding. Meghan deals with more curtsey criticism. She deflects by announcing that she was shortlisted to be the new Bond Girl but she had to give the role up because of her relationship with the Harry. Meghan also merches the Soho House restaurant she and Harry had their first date.

12/29/2017: The royal family's engagement count for the year is released and Harry worked more than William and Kate. The Markles begin popping off about Harry's "we're the family she never had" comment.

12/30/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

12/31/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

[justforbooks]

Maggie Smith: the magisterial star of Harry Potter and Downton had the courage and talent to do absolutely everything

The real-life dame and on-screen dowager countess, who has died aged 89, earned fame in her 70s and 80s for blockbuster roles. But her early work at the National Theatre marked her out as a talent for the ages

Dame Maggie Smith’s trophy cabinet reflected her extraordinary achievements across theatre, film and television – and in the biggest arenas of British and US culture, from the BBC to Hollywood, the West End to Broadway. A measure of her versatility and durability is that, in the 1960s, she played nine major roles in the formative years of the National Theatre, but also, from the start of the 2000s, appeared in five series of Downton Abbey, the ITV Sunday night series that became one of the biggest popular hits of the new millennium.

Her role in that show was Violet Crawley, Dowager Countess of Grantham, who lived in such a bubble of exclusive comfort that, in trademark one-liners, she would drawl in mystification, for example: “What is a ‘weekend’?” That acerbic superiority was a signature throughout Smith’s career, including the part that brought her first Academy award in 1970, against a shortlist also featuring Liza Minnelli and Jane Fonda, for the title role in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, adapted from Muriel Spark’s novel about a maverick, arrogant schoolteacher in Edinburgh.

Smith consistently had the courage and talent to do unexpected things. Her second Oscar, in 1979, was for California Suite, with a script by Neil Simon and a cast of high Hollywood talent including Alan Alda and Walter Matthau. Introducing an element of postmodernism to a mainstream comedy, Smith played exactly what she had been at the start of the decade: an English actress up for her first Academy award.

Another surprise on her CV demonstrated an ability to play it straight and dark. In 2019, after 12 years away from the stage, Smith, at the age of 84, performed a 100-minute monologue at the Bridge theatre in London. A German Life was adapted by Christopher Hampton from a documentary movie interview given, at the age of 102 (the show was a rare case of an octogenarian ageing up for a part), by Brunhilde Pomsel, who worked for the Nazi propaganda chief Joseph Goebbels during the Holocaust, but who continued to deny complicity or guilt. With typical meticulousness, Smith refused to accept the part until she had proved to herself at home that she could memorise an extended solo. Combining enduringly impeccable technique with the guts to test it again at such an age, it was a late triumph in an astonishing career.

Margaret Smith – she preferred her full first name, the “Maggie” imposed on her to distinguish from another performer on the Equity register – was born in Ilford, Essex. Her mother, who worked as a secretary, was Scottish, so useful for the creation of the Brodie brogue. Her father, Nathaniel, was a pathologist, whose academic posting to Oxford led to his daughter attending the city’s girls’ high school.

Despite joining the Oxford Playhouse Company at 16, rather than going to college, Smith benefited from the local varsity theatrical privileges, cast in Oxford University Dramatic Society productions, including revues, which, at the time were attended by national critics.

Such was the impact she made in comedy skits and songs that, aged 21, she was part of an ensemble recruited to appear on Broadway in a revue called New Faces of 1956. In London, during the following two years, she appeared, with co-stars including Kenneth Williams, in an English show, Share My Lettuce, billed as “a diversion with music”, with a script by Bamber Gascoigne.

At that point, Smith seemed set to be a sketch-and-music comedian, especially when Strip the Willow, a play about the survivors of a nuclear war in the UK, failed to transfer to London from a UK tour. It was written by Beverley Cross, whom Smith had met at the Oxford Playhouse. He wrote the play for her as an attempted seduction, the first description of her character being “beautiful. As elegant and sophisticated as a top international model. A great sense of fun. A marvellous girl.’’

However, at that stage, no lasting relationship occurred. And Smith’s serious dramatic career was launched when she appeared, again paired with Kenneth Williams, in a double bill of plays, The Private Ear and The Public Eye, by Peter Shaffer, in 1962. These won Smith her first Evening Standard best actress statuette, at the age of 27, and caught the attention of Sir Laurence Olivier, then establishing, at Chichester, the first attempt at a National Theatre. Crucially to the development of her reputation, Olivier trusted her not only with comedy – such as The Recruiting Officer, George Farquhar’s early 18th-century farce – but also tragedy: she was Desdemona to Olivier’s performance in the title role of Othello.

Also at the National, Smith formed a relationship with the actor Robert Stephens, who became her first husband, and father of her sons, who, as Toby Stephens and Chris Larkin, followed their parents into acting.

Dramatic Exchanges, a collection of correspondence from the National Theatre archives, shows the close creative relationship between Olivier and Smith. A habitual nicknamer, he addressed her as “Mageen”. He had long told her that her perfect role would be Millamant, a strong-willed woman conspiring to achieve a desired marriage, in William Congreve’s Restoration comedy The Way of the World. But, in 1968, with Smith having left the company following her marriage with Stephens and pregnant with their first child, Olivier proceeded to stage the play with Geraldine McEwan as Millamant.

Olivier’s letter of apology to Smith contained elaborately verbose admiration. Smith wrote a reply of pained regret concluding: “Well, what’s the point of trying to tell you my feelings. They obviously count for so very little. It was nice of you to say you will devote your energies to my return but really I do not think it would be wise of me to believe that either. Margaret.”

There is a waspish, unforgiving tone in that letter that was part of Smith’s personality; some of those who worked with her, especially younger actors struggling with their roles, were wounded by witty but cruel putdowns.

That bad casting luck at the National, though, was more than balanced out. Had Julie Andrews, in the same year, not turned down the Jean Brodie movie, Smith would never have played the part that redefined her career. With her American bankability increased by a US tour of Noël Coward’s Private Lives, Smith used it to go into a kind of theatrical exile from Olivier and Britain. From 1976 to 1980, she played four summer seasons at the Shakespeare festival in Stratford, Ontario, conceived as a sort of ex-pat RSC-National, where she finally played the part of Millamant and other roles that might have been expected in London, such as Lady Macbeth.

Smith fell into a happy rhythm of filming gigs split with Canadian acting sabbaticals. While she rehearsed or acted, Beverley Cross wrote to her, having become Smith’s second husband in 1975 following her divorce from Robert Stephens.

When Smith returned to London theatre, she took over from Diana Rigg as the troubled modern colonial wife Ruth Carson, in Tom Stoppard’s Night and Day. She confirmed her resurgence with two more Evening Standard awards, in 1981 and 1984, for London runs of shows she had premiered in Canada. In Virginia, by Edna O’Brien, she was the writer Virginia Woolf, for whom Smith’s gift for haughty wit made her natural casting. Then, 16 years after the disappointment with Olivier, she finally played the coveted role in The Way of the World in her own city.

Smith, in contradiction of the standard professional graphs, had, after that slight mid-career dip, a third act even more glorious than her first. Shaffer wrote for her Lettice and Lovage, a comedy maximising her command of sardonic superiority, as Lettice Douffet, a tour guide who begins to embellish history. She took the play to New York, where she won a Tony award. Smith also became an Alan Bennett specialist. She co-starred with Michael Palin in the movie A Private Function in 1984, as a Yorkshire woman using a black-market pig to prevent wartime rationing thwarting her upward mobility. In the 1988 first series of Bennett’s Talking Heads monologues for television, she was a vicar’s wife, anxious about private sins, in A Bed Among the Lentils. On stage (1999) and screen (2015), she was memorable as The Lady in the Van, a fictionalised version of Miss Shepherd, a Catholic evangelist tramp who for some years lived in a caravan on Bennett’s driveway.

There was a trio of West End appearances in plays by the great American dramatist Edward Albee: as the oldest (90-something) of three versions of the writer’s imperious mother in Three Tall Women (1994); playing a vicious drunk in a family menaced by an unnamed “plague” in A Delicate Balance (1997); and a mysterious matriarch visiting a deathbed in The Lady from Dubuque (2007), a rare flop that put Smith off theatre.

Another reason for her retreat from theatre was, unusually for a septuagenarian performer, a vast demand from movie studios. Between 2001 and 2011, she appeared in seven of the eight Harry Potter films, as Professor Minerva McGonagall, transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts, her embodiment of the formidable Scottish academic seeming to contain affectionate nods to Brodie. The part brought Smith considerable wealth – she joked about the “Harry Potter pension fund” – and a vast new fanbase that, she complained, made it impossible for her to shop in Waitrose any more.

Her cinematic renaissance had also included Robert Altman’s Gosford Park (2001). In this English country house drama, written by Julian Fellowes, Smith’s character was at least a first cousin to her Downton Abbey countess. Appearing in a TV series with an average audience of 10 million made it even harder for Dame Maggie (as she had become in 1990) to go shopping. But this late superstardom, half a century or more after her first major theatre and movie successes, confirmed that she was an actor with the rare ability to do anything she wanted anywhere.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[mychemstat]

i can't quit you - rayrard

summary: Gerard Way can't quit Ray Toro, or Rayrard drabble.

warnings: ray toro/gerard way. smut. they r buddies who fuck. enjoy :)

Ray has always had a soft spot for Gerard. Ever since they met, Ray would listen intently as Gerard spoke about his ambitions, his art, the new video game that has him so amped up and inspired for their next record. He never said no to him.

Because Gerard was logical and practical and kind of crazy and really pretty, but he would try his best not to be obvious about his feelings. Like when the raven-haired boy sat on his lap in the dressing room, and Ray had to pretend like his heart didn't just do a million summersaults at the mere scent of the gummy-smiled lead singer so close to him. He would play around him with, pretending like he wanted Gerard to get off his lap already, but he never meant it.

And Gerard knew it.

Sure, Gerard and Frank acted out in public the most, kissing on stage, groping and humping each other's faces in front of an audience. But that was the extent of it. If you don't count that one time in London.

And Ray knew. He wasn't blind. He knew Gerard was free spirited and never really held it against him. So, when he would walk in on Frank kissing the older one pinned against the wall, fingers threading sweaty hair after-show, he would simply smile and act like nothing happened, and the other two adjusted to his rhythm.

The sheer normalcy of Ray's attitude freaked Frank out a bit and Ray rarely ever encountered them locking lips again. He would be lying if he said that that had been his intention since the beginning, but it was certainly a plus.

Gerard would come back from hanging out with Bert and be littered with hickeys, and Ray would high-five him on "scoring," completely unbothered.

Because Gerard always came back to him.

It started a year after the release of their first record. Mikey and Frank were out of the tour bus, leaving the two eldest members of the band to entertain each other on the tour bus. Ray was on the black vinyl couch strumming along his guitar, practicing riffs and rehearsing chords, occasionally being interrupted by Gerard’s breathy exhales of boredom as he shut the comic, he was reading for the fifth time that tour and slammed it on the table.

Ray didn't flinch, he stayed focused on his instrument, purposely ignoring the hyper ball of energy lying down on the couch in front of him.

"Ray."

"Hmm?"

"Rayyyy"

"Yes, Gerard?"

"Toroooo"

Ray gave in and looked at him, unamused.

"Do you wanna make-out?"

Ray waved him off, ignoring that his heartbeat had picked up speed and continued playing, thinking Gerard was just playing around, "Yeah, and later you can suck my dick too, buddy."

Gerard took it as a challenge, unbeknownst to Ray.

So later, when Gerard sat a couple inches away from the guitarist on the noisy fabric of the couch, thighs touching as they binged the star-wars prequels, he got an idea.

Ray had leaned all the way back, knees split apart, large thighs on display, and his small waist accentuated by the ridden up tight black shirt he wore for the third time that week. Curls distributed beautifully and framing his face, soft lips resting peacefully, parting to exhale occasionally.

Gerard had lost focus from the movie a long time ago. He moved closer to Ray, thighs fully in contact, hoping Ray wouldn't notice.

And he didn't, too invested in the screen with spaceships and aliens and robots, and Gerard wanted to scream because Ray was perfect.

Gerard took the opportunity of resting his hand on Ray's thigh after seemingly "Laughing so hard he had to hit his leg repeatedly," and then Ray noticed.

"Gee... What do you think you're doing?" He wasn't upset. He wasn't mad. Just extremely curious. His heart was now in the roof of his mouth, ears hot and ringing.

"Nothing! Just watching the movie, like you are"

"And that requires your hand on my thigh?"

"Anakin is scary in this one, I need moral support."

"From my thigh?"

Gerard rolled his eyes and faced Ray, repositioning himself on the tour bus's lightweight couch.

"I’m fucking pent up man, I haven't fucked in months, and your tight little shirts have been giving me blue balls."

"What the fuck, Gee? You were serious earlier?"

"Yes! Oh my god, you idiot."

"Since when have you-"

"Does it matter?" Was all Gerard had to say before Ray pulled him in, breathing in heavily, like he had just quenched his thirst after centuries. Dancing tongues, clacking teeth, and unchoreographed hands fisting each other clothes had turned the heat up in the tiny tour bus. Ray had pushed Gerard on his back and nudged his knee between Gerard’s legs and grazed his bulge, eliciting the whiniest noise he had heard from Gerard yet, and that was saying a lot.

Gerard was lost in the warmth of Ray's soft lips, not being able to stop kissing him like he would somehow disappear if he did. Ray's hair poked his forehead at first but that barely mattered when he kissed that one spot on Gerard’s neck that he had noticed Gerard was sensitive about since that one-time frank had touched the singer on stage and witnessed his body arch into his touch.

Oh, Ray was extremely observant.

Ever since then, Gerard crawled back to Ray no matter who he sucked off or made out with in dirty bathrooms.

Gerard would spend hours on his knees licking and kissing and sucking Ray off when they were alone, loving the way he would be handled by the guitarist. Nimble fingers scratching the back of Gerard’s head, praises like "That's a good boy," or "You're so good to me," making Gerard cream his pants without much help from Ray.

If Gerard whined and pleaded enough, just a regular part of their routine, Ray would let him sit on his cock and milk himself till he split apart and eventually fell on the taller's chest, gasping and panting like a bitch in heat.

Ray enjoyed the attention of course, acting like he couldn't care less and that he was doing Gerard a favor by letting him get off on his dick, but he would be half hard the minute their lips touched.

Gerard would climb into his bunk late at night, back facing him like all he wanted to do was be spooned to sleep, and Ray, the first time this happened, happened to go to sleep commando in his sweatpants. Needless to say, he had to bite down on the smaller's shoulder from grunting at the friction of his clothed dick pressing up against Gerard’s ass as he pretended to be clueless about the things he made Ray feel.

The fans would often 'ship' frank with Gerard and they had every reason to, but the reason there was heat on stage is because backstage Frank and Gerard acted like friends at best.

Ray had Gerard cock-drunk, gagging around him, pretty pink lips contracting as he tried to fit in more and more of the older man, like he was trying to prove himself. And Ray would hum lowly, hips bucking and hitting the back of Gerard’s throat, making him choke before pulling him off by his hair, revealing his throbbing dick coated in Gerard’s saliva, the tip of his cock connected to his bottom lip with a translucent white string.

"You did so good, Gee," Ray would announce, pulling the younger one in by his collar to taste himself, almost like he wanted to breathe him in. "why don't you let me-"

"You have a problem with blowing your load down my throat, Toro?"

"Well n-"

"Then let me do it. You're welcome," Gerard would quip, like rising on his feet from the vulnerable position he was once in on his knees somehow made him switch back to the bratty piece of shit he was.

And Ray liked it.

***

let me know if u have any requests :) <3

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 1

Remember Us

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: minor angst

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Soldiers. Heroes. Deserters. Traitors. They've been called many things. As the Galactic Empire rises from the ashes of the Republic, a small group of clone troopers and their allies will find a new identity: Rebels.

Echo, Rex, and Gregor are on a mission to save as many of their brothers as they can. The task is daunting, and their friends are few. But from these small and desperate beginnings will come a spark of resistance that will set the galaxy ablaze.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings and "Do It Again," but all three fics can be read as stand-alones.

Next chapter | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list | Read on AO3

Remember us—if at all—not as lost violent souls, but only as the hollow men.

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

The Marauder pushed off the landing platform with a roar of thrusters and rose through the underworld portal until it disappeared in the swirl of air speeder and starship traffic. The repair shop where Rex had set up his base of operations was deep in the lower levels of Coruscant, and Echo knew the ship would keep ascending long after he lost sight of it before it reached the surface. His decision to part ways with the Batch had seemed very straightforward and logical as he’d discussed it with Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech, but in the face of Omega’s tearful farewell, his resolve had nearly crumbled.

He knew that the rest of the Batch would never let any harm come to the girl; her safety was their only priority. But Echo needed to do more to help his fellow clones, and with Rex, he would finally be in a position to do so. And so he merely watched as the ship departed, bearing his brothers and sister back to Ord Mantell and Cid’s endlessly questionable jobs.

He turned to rejoin Rex and Senator Chuchi. They had been conversing discreetly, giving him privacy and space as he said his goodbyes. The senator watched him now, her luminous eyes soft.

“It’s very brave of you, Echo, to stay behind and join our network after everything you’ve been through,” she said.

“Thank you, Senator,” he said, “but I’ve never been one to back down from a fight.”

“Please, call me Riyo,” she said.

Echo nodded as Rex clapped him on the shoulder.

“Come on, brother,” his old captain said. “I’ll show you around.”

The tour didn’t take long. The repair shop apparently belonged to Trace Martez, the young thief Echo had encountered on Corellia. Rex had taken over the shop when Coruscant got a little too hot for the Martez sisters’ comfort. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement: Rex needed a home base, and Trace needed someone to make sure the shop didn’t fall victim to the seedier elements of the underworld. Rex had set up a kitchen, a temporary barracks, and a small training gym at the back of the shop. There was a tiny room that served as a makeshift office and command center, and finally a communal refresher with two open shower stalls, an enclosed toilet, and a small sink. The garage contained few creature comforts; mostly they just used crates for furniture, though there was a broken-down old sofa with a holotable set up in front of it.

The accommodations were spare and shabby, which was familiar to Echo, but he was struck by how out-of-place Riyo looked in the shop. With her elegant clothing and elaborate hairstyle, she looked far too delicate and fine for her surroundings. Still, she didn’t display either judgment or discomfort at the sparseness of the shop. Echo stole occasional glances at her, admiring the soft curves of her face, the graceful line of her throat, the way her wide, intelligent eyes took in everything around her, missing not a single detail. He wondered how to describe the exact shade of her hair. Was it mauve? Or maybe violet was more accurate. Her gaze shifted to him, and he looked away quickly.

The unmistakable whine of a speeder bike landing on the platform outside interrupted his train of thought, and soon footsteps echoed through the shop.

“Rex? You here?” a woman’s voice called.

“Back here, Cerra,” Rex replied. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

The woman strode into view, faltering a little when she spotted Echo.

“Echo, I’d like you to meet Cerra Kilian,” Rex said. “She handles logistics. Very good at getting things clones aren’t supposed to have.”

“Nice to meet you, Cerra,” Echo said.

The woman clasped Echo’s hand in a reserved greeting and nodded at Riyo. “A pleasure, Echo. Senator, it’s good to see you again.”

“And you as well, Cerra,” Riyo replied.

The contrast between the two women could not have been more stark. Riyo was lovely, with her wide, golden eyes, azure skin, and glossy lavender—no, lilac—hair. Everything about her was soft and feminine and fragile, almost ethereal. Cerra was taller and more solid, her face more angular, and everything about her spoke of practical decisions, from her buzzed head, to her faded mechanic’s coveralls and sturdy boots. More striking, though, was the difference in their expressions. While Riyo’s face was gentle and easy to read, Cerra’s guarded eyes revealed nothing of her thoughts. 

“Got a lead on that electro capsule the clone assassin used,” Cerra said.

“What did you learn?” Rex asked.

“It isn’t underworld tech,” Cerra said. “At least, not as far as any of my contacts could tell. More likely military-grade.”

“Then it probably was Rampart’s work,” Rex said grimly. 

“Hard to say,” Cerra said. “We know somebody was pulling Rampart’s strings. I’ll keep looking.”

“I hope I don’t sound selfish, but I can’t help wondering. Do you think I might still be in danger?” Riyo asked.

Cerra looked at Rex, wordlessly deferring to him.

“It’s difficult to say,” Rex said. “For now, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for your guards to take additional precautions.”

“I can take a look at their security protocols and offer a few suggestions, if you’d like,” Echo offered.

“Thank you,” Riyo said, gazing up at him with gratitude in her eyes. “I would imagine that someone as accomplished at infiltration as an ARC Trooper would be the best person to find weaknesses in security.”

“Former ARC Trooper,” Echo said, wondering what else Rex had told her about him.

“I don’t think anyone could forget ARC training,” Rex said with a quiet laugh. 

Cerra’s eyes flickered to the front entrance of the repair shop, and Echo turned automatically, preparing for a threat. Instead, he recognized a familiar face.

“Didn’t realize we were having a party,” Gregor said as he strode into the room and clasped Echo’s forearm in greeting. “Good to have you with us, Echo.”

The commando nodded at Rex and Riyo, then draped his arm casually over Cerra’s shoulders and handed her a travel cup. The woman pushed him off with an indistinct grumble, but she took the cup with the barest hint of a smile.

“I got some intel on a clone in the 41st Elite Corps who wants to get out. Name’s Fireball, do you know him?” Gregor asked.

“I’ve met him,” Rex said. “Good man. Good soldier.”

“Is the 41st still on Kashyyyk?” Echo asked. “I was there recently. Rex, it could get ugly.”

“It’ll take some time to plan,” Rex said noncommittally.

“That’s not the only thing we’ll need to plan,” Gregor said. “If we’re going to be extracting clones, we’re going to need a way to get the inhibitor chips out of their heads. AZI took mine out on Ord Mantell, but we don’t have a medical droid of our own.”

“Karthon chop fields,” Cerra said. Riyo and the three clones all turned to her. “I’ve been looking into it. My source says there are at least three downed Venators slated for decommissioning on Karthon. We can pull the surgical pod from one of the med bays and set it up here.”

“It’s risky,” Rex said.

“Not as risky as Lotho Minor or Bracca, now that the Empire has stepped up security after your adventure there last year,” Cerra said. “I can get it, but I’ll need help. Gregor, you in?”

“I’d like Echo to go with you on this one,” Rex interjected.

Cerra didn’t react except to nod. “It’s going to take a few days to get the supplies together.”

Over the next few days, Echo began to get a feel for the small group living in the repair shop. Rex was right: his organization was spread thin. Echo wasn’t exactly sure how many others were involved, but at the moment, the only people besides himself who were at the garage were Rex, Cerra, and Gregor. Any others were either deployed on missions or based elsewhere. The three of them were run ragged. Rex looked even more exhausted than he had during the war. Cerra was quiet and remote, keeping to herself and rarely instigating conversations. Gregor was the only one who still seemed to have a sense of humor. 

In addition to running missions with Rex, Gregor was the self-appointed quartermaster and chef of the group. He was a surprisingly good cook, and when Echo complimented the food, the commando grinned.

“It’s nice to be the one in charge of the kitchen instead of just washing dishes,” he said.

“If I start cooking, does that mean I can skip dish duty?” Cerra asked.

“No thanks, I’ve tasted your cooking,” Gregor laughed, his eyes bright.

“Rude, but fair,” Cerra acknowledged.

It was the night before Echo was due to travel to Karthon with Cerra. The group sprawled around the holotable, chatting quietly as they ate Gregor’s spicy yobshrimp stew. Echo was jittery. He wasn’t nervous about the mission itself; he’d completed hundreds of missions. But they were always with his brothers or a Jedi. This was his first time with a civilian. Still, Rex obviously trusted Cerra enough to send her after the surgical pod, so Echo tried to quiet his nerves.

“I can take KP tonight,” Echo offered, looking for a distraction.

“You’re on,” Cerra said immediately.

“Sucker,” Gregor giggled.

The kitchen was a spectacular mess, and it took some time for Echo to finish cleaning up. By the time he did, he could hear music blasting from the training gym, and he went to investigate.

Gregor leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, as he watched Rex spar with Cerra. Her face was flushed with exertion, and beads of sweat speckled her forehead and dripped down her temples. Echo could tell that Rex was holding back, though Cerra had surprisingly good form. She clearly had training, but it wasn’t enough against an opponent who was taller, stronger, heavier, and had been trained literally from birth to be a killing machine. Gregor occasionally tossed out a dispassionate suggestion or command, focusing on techniques specifically for fighting a larger combatant.

“Pull guard, Cerra, just like we practiced,” the commando coached.

Cerra grabbed Rex’s forearm and took him to the ground, locking her legs around his waist. Echo immediately recognized the move; he’d practiced it often enough during ARC training. He hadn’t sparred with anyone in ages, and he wondered if his prosthetic legs were agile enough to do it. He suspected so; though they were not quite as dexterous as his legs had formerly been, they made up for it in durability and strength. A single kick would be strong enough to snap a limb or break a spine.

“That’s better, Cerra,” Rex praised. 

“Next time, rotate your foot to the outside,” Gregor said, unimpressed. “Unless you want to break your own ankle or get your leg pinned.”

Cerra slapped Rex on the back of the head. “Stop taking it easy on me.”

He grinned down at her. “Sorry, kid. Gotta walk before you can run.”

“First of all, I’m twice your age, and secondly, a real opponent won’t pull their punches,” she said.

“That’s why you have a blaster,” Rex replied calmly. “Want to go again?”

She nodded, but Gregor intervened. “You need to rest up for tomorrow’s mission.”

Cerra released Rex immediately, and he stood to his feet, then extended a hand and pulled her up from the mat. She was breathing hard, and Gregor tossed her a towel to dry off. She spotted Echo and acknowledged him with a jerk of her chin.

“Maybe Echo can teach me some sweet ARC moves while we’re en route to Karthon,” she said.

“Didn’t Fives show you any?” Gregor asked.

Rex winced, but Cerra mopped her face and arms with the towel.

“A few,” she said.

“You knew Fives?” Echo asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m going to hop in the shower.”

“I can’t believe we’re taking that rust-bucket to Karthon,” Echo said.

The rickety shuttle was practically an antique. The sublight drive rattled alarmingly when it started up, and even the hydraulic struts for the ramp only worked about half the time.

“It’s old, but it still has some tricks thanks to Trace,” Rex said. “It’ll get you there and back. Besides, it’s the only ship we have with a cargo hold big enough to transport the surgical pod.”

“She’ll fly all right,” Cerra said as she joined them. “Not fast. Hopefully she won’t leak like a sieve.”

Rex was holding two travel mugs of caf, and he handed one to Cerra.

“You’re a god among men,” she said, taking a blissful sip.

“Is the other one for me?” Echo asked.

“Kark no,” Rex said, chugging half the liquid in one go. “Get your own.”

Cerra strode up the ramp and flopped into the co-pilot’s seat. “Don’t worry, Echo, we can stop at Starcups on the way out.”

Echo pulled a face. “Starcups barely qualifies as caf. More like syrup and blue milk that once heard a rumor about caf.”

“Still gets the job done,” Cerra shrugged. “Let’s roll.”

In the slow, dilapidated old shuttle, it was a full day’s jump to Karthon. Cerra was mostly silent once they entered hyperspace, tinkering with the electronic guts of a clone armor cuirass that she’d modified heavily. Echo, accustomed to Wrecker and Omega’s raucous banter and Tech’s spontaneous infodumps, found the silence deafening. He wished Gregor had come with them on the mission. The commando’s relaxed attitude and cheerful personality seemed to pull Cerra out of her shell in a way that Echo had not yet figured out how to do. He was no sparkling conversationalist, but he didn’t enjoy silence and solitude—not any more. 

It had only been a few days, but he missed the Batch. He missed Tech’s monologues as they copiloted the Marauder on long hyperspace jumps. He missed Omega’s endless questions and cheerful commentary. He thought of the way the tears had welled in her eyes as she hugged him goodbye, and his chest ached at the memory.

The cuirass sparked, and Cerra flinched and cursed.

“Need a hand?” Echo offered.

Cerra sighed and dragged a hand across her eyes. “I think I fried one of the connectors when I heated the plastoid to reshape the chestplate. The control unit fits, but I can’t get it to sync with the HUD.”

She passed the cuirass to Echo, who inspected it closely. She was right; there was a tiny scorch mark on one of the connectors.

“We’ll have to salvage another chestplate to get replacements,” he said. “Decent chance we’ll find some on Karthon.”

“At least it’ll give me some protection for now,” she said. “I’ll just have to go without a helmet until I can get it fixed.”

“I can help with the modifications, if you’d like,” Echo offered. “I have some experience with armor mods.”

“So I see,” she said, eyeing his custom suit. “I figured your armor wasn’t exactly off the rack.”

Echo chuckled. “Not exactly. My squadmate Tech helped me with my first set of armor after Skako Minor, but this set I modified myself. I added some extra features. Aside from the obvious.” He gestured to his scomp.

“What kind of features?” she asked.

“Electrical surge prevention,” he said.

She nodded. “Kix told me you got a hell of a jolt at Anaxes.”

“You knew Kix as well as Fives?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “He’s gone, too.”

Darkness flickered across her face, but she took a deep breath and her usual stoicism slid back into place. Echo reached out to lay his hand on her shoulder, but something about her posture made him think she wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. He faltered and dropped his hand back to his side. After a time, he broke the silence.

“So,” he said. “How well did you know Fives?”

“Pretty well,” she said flatly. “So how about those sweet ARC moves?”

He wanted to push, wanted to know more. Rex had given him the bare-bones account of Fives’s death, but there never seemed to be enough time to actually process it. Cerra was the only person in Echo’s life other than Rex who had known his twin, but her walls seemed to be made of durasteel, reinforced with beskar. And the last thing he wanted to do was scug her off right before he headed into a mission, trusting her to have his back.

“Rex went through ARC training, too, you know,” Echo pointed out. “He knows all those moves. But I can show you a trick or two that I learned from Clone Force 99.”

---

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