#They are disasters without each other. But they are brave disasters that never say die

[pianokantzart]

Broken Warp Pipe AU

Based off of a concept by @multicolour-ink and @wiz-witch​ where the warp pipe in Brooklyn breaks down, leaving Mario and Luigi stranded separate dimensions: X.

From there I just went off the rails.

Mario (Brooklyn Side)

Mario has not stopped working toward finding a way to The Mushroom Kingdom since he and Luigi were separated, and has run himself ragged in the process.

He started off trying to discover if there is a working warp pipe somewhere else in the world. After all, if there was one just under their noses in Brooklyn, surely there’s another somewhere! He just needs to search, and search hard.

He’s always on the move, working some side-gigs to stay afloat while spending every second of free time pursuing and studying warp pipes. He eats bad, sleeps bad, and even smokes sometimes when he’s sleep deprived and can’t focus (though he always feels guilty about it afterward. Luigi would NOT approve.)

Mario hates being alone, but spends most of his time alone, because he feels that’s what he deserves at this point. He’s reached so many dead ends he feels like he’s already failed his brother, but refuses to slow down all the same.

When he’s feeling particularly hopeless or lonely, sometimes he talks to nobody as though he’s talking to Luigi. This helps a little. 

He calls his family every couple of months to let them know he’s okay, and to see if there’s any sign that the Brooklyn warp pipe is working again. These phone calls are brief, and he never properly explains where he is or what he’s doing.

 Mario has stolen (and usually returned) many ancient artifacts and documents, and broken into many a location trying to uncover a warp pipe. He hasn’t hurt anyone, but his impatience and determination has earned him a bit of a criminal record in the human world. 

In his travels, Mario found one or two working warp pipes, but they led to weird alternative dimensions not even close to The Mushroom Kingdom. He has done some heroism in these places whenever the situation presents itself (he’s still a good guy), and has been rewarded with helpful information about warp pipes and how they work.

Through knowledge he gleaned from his travels, combined his own advanced skills with traditional plumbing, Mario eventually pieces together how to repair warp pipes, which he uses to fix his own pipe back in Brooklyn.

Luigi (Mushroom Kingdom Side)

When Mario first got trapped in Brooklyn, Luigi desperately tried to fill his brother’s shoes until he returned. When Bowser inevitably reattempted to destroy The Mushroom Kingdom, Luigi tried to channel his brother by taking the tyrant on alone. He was very nearly killed as a result. DK, Toad, and Peach successfully fended off Bowser in the end, but Luigi was left physically and emotionally scarred in a way he has not quite recovered from.

Luigi still does his best to be a hero despite everything, but is only barely functional unless he has someone backing him up. Princess Peach sticks close to him whenever possible, and Toad is ecstatic to have him as a friend and adventuring buddy.

 Luigi has an official place on the Toad Brigade, and is happiest when he’s doing missions with them.

He eventually develops into one of the most formidable heroes in the dimension, especially after he gains the powers of the thunder hand. He rarely gets recognition for this though, because he very much does not behave like the traditional hero, and far prefers the sidekick position. He wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Luigi does not spend a lot of time in his and Mario’s house, save to keep it clean and tidy. He has not moved any of his brothers things, except to keep them dusted. A part of him still holds out hope that he’ll be back one day.

Princess Peach hooked Luigi up with an apprenticeship with Professor E. Gadd during one of his slumps, and he spends most of his nights sleeping over at the lab. The professor is happy to have him around; Luigi keeps the place so neat and organized, and makes the best cup of coffee!

Though they have some wardrobe changes, both Mario and Luigi have their original hats, and are extremely protective of them. 

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 15

what’s happening to us?

so you’re not sleeping, you’re not having sex. sounds like you’ve been a complete fucking disaster without me.

you know i love you. right?

only thing to remember is take your time, even if there is no time.

i shouldn’t have to fight this hard to be seen.

all of a sudden, everything i thought i was fighting for is gone.

when i think of something to say, it doesn’t seem like enough.

i feel like everything is boring me. 

don’t do anything stupid. or brave.

you can’t imagine what i’ve done to get this far.

i was trying to be a low-maintenance girlfriend.

we’re just friends. it’s… nice. 

i know this seems like the end of the world, but you will get over it. probably sooner than you think.

i know all of the worst things about you. the shit that no one else knows. and i still love you. that’s why we don’t work with anyone else.

i know the difference between someone who cares about me and someone who doesn’t. i’ve been on the other side enough times.

i’ve never seen anybody worse at being in a happy relationship.

is it always like this? does it get worse?

i was too busy dying.

you’re the scariest person here.

i cannot exist with this secret anymore. you don’t understand.

it really is just us against the world, isn’t it?

you’re nowhere near as nice as you fucking think you are. 

you fight dirty. you use people’s worst shit against them.

i’m not your therapist, i should be paid for the shit i have to talk you through.

i honestly adore you.

sometimes i feel like you say stuff just to be a dick, like you store things up and make me feel like shit for no reason.

can it please be enough now?

i never wanted any of this. i didn’t wanna be at war with you.

i loved you. even though i knew exactly who you were, all of the worst things about you. so why do you punish me for that?

i feel sad all the time, and i don’t know why.

it’s not my fault that you feel like shit.

not everything’s a fucking joke just because you are.

i just ruin things, and there’s not even a fucking point to me.

i don’t feel normal. i feel like i’m nothing all the time.

there was a time when i’d do anything for you.

whose blood is that?

it’s a forest full of nightmares. 

only person that i care about is you.

one day you’re gonna make friends with people you actually care about. 

why do you insist on being the most annoying person in every room?

you know you’re a little fucked up?

you have so much love to give. you don’t have to give it all to me.

you can’t move forward if you’re looking back.

you make everyone sad. you make everyone fight.

i wanna feel like a good person again.

all this running and hiding has made me so miserable.

what i do know is that i don’t want to keep hurting you. 

what if i’m just as bad as everyone always said i was? what if i’m even worse than that?

you helped me realize something pretty big about myself.

you know we’d be awful together, right?

you look half dead already. i’ll be quick with the last half.

i think better when i work with my hands, so leave me the fuck alone.

you gotta die somewhere. what does it matter where?

i thought i’d get it right the next time around, but i made it worse.

sometimes, you have to do horrible things. no matter how bad you feel.

there’s something in your eyes, i could tell that you’ve been through stuff. 

i could tell that you were dangerous.

i’m here. and i love you. and i am so, so sorry that i hurt you.

we are all we have. us.

i’m not having a good night.

maybe that’s your cover, hiding in plain sight.

i don’t consider it cheating if it’s more of an exit ramp.

i need you to get your shit together. okay?

women kill for power.

i’m cute, i like when people notice.

is there a world where this works?

has the closeness of death made you feel more alive?

we can be friends because we like each other. not just because we worry about each other. right?

i think i just stopped caring if people think i’m a piece of shit.

it’s easy to move on when someone you trust totally disappoints you.

[emilyzipps]

how do you build up the tension between two characters without dragging it out or jumping the gun by rushing it?

This is a great question! I mostly write romance/romcoms so I'm going to answer this about building romantic tension, but I'm guessing it works for other kinds as well.

As always, please feel free to reblog or comment with your thoughts, suggestions, disagreements!

The first thing that comes to mind for me is to think about all of the ways they're going to show their progression into the romance--their relationship milestones--and make sure they're spread out in a way that feels balanced and good.

In a romance, the things you're aiming for as relationship milestones will vary depending on what type of book you're writing. If it's a steamy enemies to lovers story, the sex will start pretty early into the book, so the will-they-or-won't-they isn't about sex, it's about feelings. The big milestones in that case might be things like

admitting attraction

hooking up

sex

first feelings of romance (you shove them under a rug)

first feelings of romance (you admit to yourself you have them)

first time testing out if they like you as more than an sex partner

first time admitting you liiiiike them

first time them admitting they liiiiike you

love confession/happily ever after

On the flip side, a slow burn friends to lovers (no steam), it may be things like

noticing she's pretty

touching hands by accident on the bus

touching hands ON PURPOSE on the bus

lingering stares

staying up all night talking

picking her up from a date with someone else and being so sad

trying to date someone else

spending the night together AS FRIENDS

erotic hair braiding

happily ever after

Once you think through what some of those milestones will be for your story and your characters, then you can figure out how you want to spread those out throughout your story. Tension comes in the spaces between those milestones and in yearning for the next one, so you need to give space for each milestone to (a) be exciting! (b) be celebrated (or feared or repressed or whatever) and (c) get old enough that we're pining for the next one. That's why you go from touching hands by accident to being brave and terrified and anxious when you decide to do it on purpose.

With the right build up--the pining for the feel of her smooth skin against yours, the noticing how her hands look, day dreaming about her fingers, picturing yourself touching her hand a million times, barely breathing--finally touching her hand on the bus can be as emotionally resonant as sex or a love confession.

consider each milestone as a small emotional climax (sex jokes are welcome and frankly appropriate), and treat it in the way you'd treat the big story climax.

The other thing I'm thinking about is the disconnect between what they say/show and what they think. In my debut novel, the first time Alice sees Van, her inner monologue is immediately like OMG GIRL HOT!!!! THIS BUTCH IS STUNNING AND SMELLS SO GOOD I WANT HER TO TOUCH MEEEEEEEEE. What she actually says out loud is more along the lines of "hi, nice to meet you, i'm your brother's formerly secret girlfriend."

That creates tension because the reader then (hopefully!) thinks, oh wow, how long can Alice keep it together when she's such a bisexual disaster? How long can she go without revealing how badly she wants Van to jump her?

Here's a little map of our milestones and interior/exterior:

first meeting. Alice thinks: GIRL HOT. Alice says: hi i am dating your brother??

first flirt. Alice thinks: if she touches me i'm going to fucking lose it (complementary). Alice says: thanks for the ride home, your dog is cute.

first admit you like each other. Alice thinks: i want to never leave her house or her presence. Alice says: you should be really proud of the life you've built here.

first cuddle. Alice thinks: i'm going to die. i'm actually, physically going to die under this snuggie. this girl is so hot and kind and i'm obsessed with her oh my GOD. Alice says: your mom seems nice.

Those are kind of silly examples, but I hope it helps to be able to see that we're waiting for her inner monologue to match her actions, and the stakes for both get higher and higher as they move through the milestones until the moment when she (a) says what she's thinking, and (b) gets what she wants. Aka, HAPPILY EVER AFTER, BABY.

thoughts, feedback, other suggestions, questions? bring them!

[bujorulgalben]

a river and no sea

a playlist for slavko vukašinović and anica mihăescu. for the slow burn and smoulder of hearts. for those as thick as thieves who one day, unintendedly, stole those same hearts. for the spirited peony, the hardy lily of the valley, the stalwart oak, the heavenly chorus. an undying faith in each other.

cover pictures used: ‘sigillum’ by roberto ferri iron gate - danube river (serbia-romania border)

meant to be played in the set other. track-list and some favourite lyrics below the cut:

one. laughter lines - bastille

you took me to your favourite place on earth / to see the tree they cut down ten years from your birth. / our fingers traced in circles round its history, / we brushed our hands right back in time through centuries. / as you held me down, you said:

"i'll see you in the future when we're older / and we are full of stories to be told. / cross my heart and hope to die, / i'll see you with your laughter lines."

two. lightning fields - the killers (ft. kd lang)

late at night, i lay in bed and / think about things left unsaid and / all the things that i'd do different / if i just had the chance

don't beat yourself up / you laid good ground / look at 'em walk from scratch to sundown / you put the work in and then some / where is all this coming from? / there's no end to love / there's no end to truth / there's no end to me / there's no end to you 

i just wanted to run my fastest and / stand beside you in the lightning field of love / press your face to mine / name and raise again / take the car out for a drive

(take me with you to the other side)

three. twilight omens - franz ferdinand

i wrote your name upon the / back of my hand / slept upon it / then i woke up / with it backwards on my face / reading forwards from my mirror / to my heart twilight omens in my life / then i hear your name / hear the radio sing your name / should i give you a call? / what should i say? / maybe you still feel the same?

four. lay my head down - band of skulls

was i asleep? did you save me from disaster? / wake up and tell me i'm just imagining / thought i would brave it 'cause i don't wanna live in doubt dreamt of escape but i'm nowhere near the feeling / fell from a high but i never hit the ground / can't hold the weight of your words, heavy on my mind so i'm gonna lay my head down on your shoulder and run / keep it away from my soul, i'm not holding it all / i'm gonna lay my head down on your shoulder and run / all that we know will get old and with you i'll unfold

i'm gonna lay my head down

five. opera house - cigarettes after sex

if i abandoned love i'd be a man without dreams / i'd rather be out there staring death right between its eyes now

and i can still hear the sound of you crying through the night / there in the opera house with no one else for miles

i was meant to love you and always keep you in my life / i was meant to love you / i knew i loved you at first sight

six. stolen dance - milky chance

i want you by my side / so that i never feel alone again / they've always been so kind / but now they've brought you away from here / i hope they didn't get your mind / your heart is too strong anyway / we need to fetch back the time / they have stolen from us

and i want you / we can bring it on the floor / you've never danced like this before / we don't talk about it / dancing on, do the boogie all night long / stoned in paradise / shouldn't talk about it

seven. come a little closer - cage the elephant

heartbreaks, the heavy world's upon your shoulders / will we burn on or just smolder? / somehow, i know i'll find you there / ooh, you wanna see if you can change it / change it / still, i know i'll see you there

come a little closer, then you'll see (come on, come on, come on) / things aren't always what they seem to be / do you understand the things that you've been seeing? (come on, come on, come on) / do you understand the things that you've been dreaming? / come a little closer, then you'll see

eight. 100 years - florence & the machine

i believe in you / and in our hearts we know the truth / and i believe in love / and the darker it gets, the more i do / try and fill us with your hate and we will shine a light / and the days will become endless / and never, and never turn to night / and never, and never turn to night then it's just too much / i cannot get you close enough / a hundred arms, a hundred years / you can always find me here / and, lord, don't let me break this / let me hold it lightly / give me arms to pray with / instead of ones that hold too tightly

nine. as it was - hozier

and tell me if somehow some of it remained / how long you would wait for me? / how long I've been away? / the shape that I'm in now is shaping the doorway / make your good love known to me / just tell me about your day

just as it was, baby / before the otherness came / and i knew its name / the drugs, the dark, the light, the shame

eyes at the heights of my baby / and this hope at the fight of my baby / and the lights were as bright as my baby / but your love was unmoved

ten. when the world breaks your heart - goo goo dolls

i held your face in my hands / so i could feel you smile / every time that i kiss you / you put your lips on my scars / made a tattoo of stars / felt the rush of blood and i knew

i never answer to / anybody who / tries to tear us down again so take the angry words / the things that make you hurt / kiss them goodbye, forever tonight

when the world breaks your heart / i can put it back together / i write your name across the sky / so i'm always with you / now it's you and me / like the stars we burn forever / so listen when i say to you / i'll be there, you're not alone / you're not alone

when the sun fades into shadows / when you call and no one's there / and the light goes out inside you / don't you know that i'll be there

eleven. francis forever - mitski

i don't know what to do without you / i don't know where to put my hands / i've been trying to lay my head down / but i'm writing this at 3 a.m i don't need the world to see / that i've been the best i can be, but / i don't think i could stand to be / where you don't see me

twelve. wolves without teeth - of monsters and men

open my chest and colour my spine / i'm giving you all / i'm giving you all / swallow my breath / and take what is mine / i'm giving you all / i'm giving you all

i'll be the blood / if you'll be the bones / i'm giving you all / i'm giving you all / so lift up my body / and lose all control / i'm giving you all / i'm giving you all

you hover like a hummingbird / haunt me in my sleep you'll sailing from another world / sinking in my sea, oh / you're feeding on my energy / i'm letting go of it / she wants it

thirteen. chasing cars - snow patrol

i don't quite know / how to say / how i feel

those three words / are said too much / they're not enough

if i lay here / if i just lay here / would you lie with me and just forget the world?

forget what we're told / before we get too old / show me a garden that's bursting into life

let's waste time / chasing cars / around our heads

i need your grace / to remind me / to find my own

fourteen. lovers rock - tv girl

are you sick of me? / would you like to be? / i'm trying to tell you something / something that i already said

you like a pretty boy / with a pretty voice / who is trying to sell you something / something that you already have

but if you're too drunk to drive / and the music is right / she might let you stay / but just for the night / and if she grabs for your hand / and drags you along / she might want a kiss / before the end of this song

fifteen. wine in the afternoon - franz ferdinand

so summer stains / a sky with inky swirls / that bring the thunder low / but i don't mind / i'm doing things and doing them with you

and if you're smart you'll put that book back down / you'll drag me to the floor / drag me down for more

sixteen. running towards a place - the killers

can you see the world / in a grain of sand? / can you find heaven in a wildflower / hold it in the palm of your hand? / the moment we met / burst like a star / onto the canvas of the skyline / purple and gold / we're in this together / i ain't never letting go

because we're running towards a place / where we'll walk as one / and the sadness of this life / will be overcome / if i lay with you in love / will you meet me there? / and shake the lightning from the locks / of your unbound hair

seventeen. be - hozier

when the man who gives the order is born next time 'round on the boats and back / when the body is starving at the border / or on tv given people the sack / love, when the sea rises to meet us / oh, when there's nothing left for you and i to do / oh, when there is nobody upstairs to receive us / when i have no kind words left, love, for you

be, be, be, be, be / be as you've always been / be, be, be, be, be / be as you've always been / (lover be good to me)

be love in its disrepute / scorches a hillside and salts every root / and watches the slowing and starving of troops / and lover be good to me / be there and your stairs you stack / or be like the rose you hold in your hand / i will grow bold in a barren and desolate land / and lover be good to me

eighteen. i found - amber run

i'll use you as a warning sign / that if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind / and i'll use you as a focal point / so i don't lose sight of what i want / and i've moved further than i thought i could / but i missed you more than i thought i would / and i'll use you as a warning sign / that if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

and i found love where it wasn't supposed to be / right in front of me / talk some sense to me

nineteen. nightmares - band of skulls

if you can reason, if you can stay / to put all your faith in the palm of my hand / i will protect you, i will defend / it'll never get you ever again

‘cause when you're afraid of everything / everything is a start for nightmares / nightmares, nightmares, nightmares / oh, oh, oh, oh

if i die tomorrow, would you be upset? / or would you be the one coming to get me? / falling by the wind side of the never changing world / so tell me it's alright

maybe i'm just dreaming / maybe i was wrong / maybe i was right / 'cause i can't imagine distances in our faiths / is there any kind?

twenty. paper boats - darren korb, ashley barrett

seconds march into the past / the moments pass / and just like that, they're gone

the river always finds the sea / so helplessly / like you find me

we are paper boats floating on a stream / and it would seem / we'll never be apart

i will always find you / like it's written in the stars / you can run but you can't hide, try

[monstrousfemale]

Okay I must say something here because loser Eddie is my beloved. I will die on the loser Eddie hill. It comes hand in hand with being "the only" gay guy in a small town, no matter how brave and smooth he can be when he's able to pull out his Game Master persona.

The thing is that all that bravado hides a soft, vulnerable heart. A heart that has never truly been allowed to even crush on a guy, let alone truly pursue one. Because hey, if you don't actually try to properly flirt, you can never be rejected for real. And hey, if you act a bit too flamboyant and a bit too all over the place and maybe even a bit off-putting... Then those guys didn't like you because of your choices, not because of the real you. The real you is a secret, obviously.

Eddies real self is reserved for getting high in the evenings with Steve Harrington. It comes out without him meaning it to: all mellowed out and preening under Steve's obviously and freely given and non pretentious appreciation.

And as for Steve, he is usually all awkward too when it comes to. But his feelings for Eddie spill out of him without him meaning to. It comes easy because he thinks Eddie is just a friend, and he'd never have a chance anyway. If he had been trying to flirt it would just end in (endearing) disaster.

But sitting on the hood of his car with Eddie, getting just high enough to feel his body loose and comfortable, it's all just so simple.

Eddie is a loser in front of Steve because he knows he gets to be, no judgement. Steve is just Steve around Eddie, because he gets to be.

And idk I just imagine how they'd both fall in love almost in spite of each other's intentions until it all just spills together into loving each other because you can't not fall in love with someone who loves you so truly and without any expectations. By the time they first kiss it would be just like coming home, and there would be a split second of surprise in both of them before they just accept this thing for what it is.

They need each other and they want each other and there's nothing like two losers in love.

Eddie thinks he's hot shit, full of undiluted charm that strikes like lightning and catches like fire.

Steve may have made a mistake by laughing at Eddie's poor attempts at flirting—may have opened Pandora's box, really, if said box was filled with lame innuendos.

Steve stands behind the counter at Family Video, organizing some returns with half his mind elsewhere. He watches, caught between second-hand embarrassment and guilty amusement, as Eddie kills time flirting with innocent bystanders while he waits for Steve to finish his shift.

Eddie is utterly oblivious to the reactions of his victims, too absorbed in what probably passes for clever wordplay in his head. He hardly seems to notice the objects of his conquest leaving. Mostly because—after some particularly lame line—he is much more interested in Steve's reaction.

So yeah, Steve is dealing with a monster of his own making, but whatever.

Eddie's flirting may be horrendous to others, but it definitely works for Steve.

[fulltimemoaner]

Just something cute like Childe and Zhongli are crushing on each other but they think the other doesn't share their feelings so both of them are being dumd and trying very hard to hide their feelings. Meanwhile, everyone knows they're in love with each other.

Zhongli knows he is being irrational, there is nothing in the world that could possibly bind an adeptus and a human together, nothing short of disaster and broken hearts, anyways. Of course, there are adepti that could argue with his stance, such as the law consultant Yanfei, who is the very product of such a connection. However, the vast difference between a mere law consultant an ex archon is omnipresent in his mind, and so is the fact that he is more than five thousand years older than a certain troublemaker. When he sips his painstakingly prepared tea, his face sours, the leaves leaving a bitter tinge on his tongue, over-boiled and somewhat stale. There went six hours of wasted kitchen labour, all due to his own knack for overthinking and contemplating. He had all the time in the world, after all, to drown in his own musings, even if Hu Tao was still yelling at him to do his duties and other earthly errands. No, Zhongli didn’t look down on those, quite the opposite. He had taken to loving the simple life of the human Zhongli, without the hassles of being Morax. Humanity, however, came with its cons, such as attraction and irrationality. Again, it wasn’t like he hadn’t loved as an Adeptus, madly so, perhaps, but this wasn’t the time for him to be arguing with himself. He simply had to put his desires on a leash. He took another sip of bitter tea.

There was no way Ajax liked him back, after all. He was young, a few millennia so, (yes, he isn’t about to stop repeating that to himself) and strong, quick witted, humorous, loud, adventurous- Everything that Zhongli had lost in the past thousand years of being Morax. A heavy sigh leaves his lips and he leans his chin into the inside of his palm. In times like these, it’s hard not to miss Jueyun Karst and the company of his kind, it’s in times like these when he is filled with confusion and lack of understanding involving the humans he so greatly adores. He wonders if the loss of his Gnosis led to the loss of some of the divine, whether it brought him closer to the earthly beings, which was why he found his heart squeezing so hard at the thought of ginger hair and aquamarine eyes.

A loud thud shakes Zhongli out of his reverie, the sliding door of the Wangsheng Funeral parlour slamming open to reveal Hu Tao’s gleaming eyes, as well as a very handsome yet petrified Snezhnayan. “Zhongli!” The woman coos, her hand holding an iron grip on the Harbinger’s wrist. “Someone needs your assistance.”

“Tartaglia.” Zhongli clears his throat, easing into his front of apathy despite his hammering heartbeat.

“Ah, Mr. Zhongli.” Childe laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head in that telltale way that radiated tides of awkwardness that would put his elemental abilities to shame. “There is a death within the Fatui,” He’s lying. No one has died under his watch. “And we need to bury him, it’s too hot to transport him back to Snezhnaya as it is.” His stuttering voice is probably giving him out, but Hu Tao elbows his ribs so hard he almost gasps.

“Ah, what a tragedy!” The parlour owner throws a hand over her eyes. “Such honoured guests suffering a loss like that! Zhongli, this calls for your assistance. I am so busy and I’m afraid my knowledge in Snezhnayan burial customs is vastly limited, so feel free to take this on!” She gives Zhongli the most suspicious thumbs up known to mankind and sticks her tongue out, and just like she always comes and goes, she practically evaporates out of the room.

Childe is sweating. He is staring at Zhongli with wide eyes and a suspicious tingle in his stomach, a playback of Scaramouche’s words rolling in his brain like a jammed tape.

“Go short your stupid crush out. Don’t show your face in the Northern Bank until you are ready to act normal, fucking idiot. You’re slowing us down, and by the Tsaritsa, I’m not above ratting you out and having you demoted to an errand boy.”

Childe almost cringes at the memory of the aggression in the Sixth Harbinger’s voice. He is going to kill him. Childe Tartaglia Ajax is a massive coward, and he is about to be murdered by his superior because he has a crush on a six thousand year old adeptus that is too good for him and wouldn’t bat-

“How did they die?”

Childe’s brain is like a train about to derail. Zhongli is up now, boiling some tea that smells suspiciously much like Jasmine, just like Ajax prefers it. If he tries to do as much as think of a single thing, all he can do is visualise Zhongli’s golden eyes gleaming underneath the lanterns of that odd Liyuan festival that Childe did not exactly comprehend, be it for his lack of interest at the time, or his complete concentration on that rich voice that kept whispering tales to him about the lanterns and the dead and the local myths.

“There is no one dead.” Childe blurts out, now or never. To be frank, he is absolutely shitting it. This is harder than fighting in the Abyss, worse than getting his ass kicked repeatedly by Traveller and that flying chicken that followed him around all the time-

“I seem to have misunderstood.” Zhongli watches him confusedly, teapot hanging forgotten on one hand. Childe can almost visualise him making that very same tea in his home in Snezhnaya, with the raging blizzards going strong outside, his soothing voice telling tales of dragons and giant monsters to his baby siblings to entertain them for a lack of anything better to do in the catastrophic winter. “You do not need my assistance?”

“No. I mean, yes, but not in that way.” Childe grunts, rubbing his eyes with both hands, stood ten feet away from Zhongli because he simply can’t stand the way his body burns when their shoulders brush together. The ex archon continues to look completely lost, his lips slightly open and his brows furrowed in his weak attempt to grasp the situation. Childe is stubborn, ridiculously brave at most instances, but above all, he is an idiot. And like an idiot, he says: “Have you ever kissed a Snezhnayan?”

Zhongli stills, blinking stupidly, unable to tell whether this was another one of the Harbinger’s jokes that their generational and cultural gap didn’t allow him to understand. He places the teapot down. “Excuse me?”

Childe wants to smack himself across the face. He forces out a loud laugh. “No, that was a joke!” He can feel the hairs on the side of his head sticking to his face. If the Abyss could swallow him again, now was the time. “What I mean is…” Childe takes in a deep breath. “Will you go out on a date with me?”

Zhongli stares at the wall across him, way past Ajax, into the eyes of some unseen divine force that is absolutely messing with him right then. “Did Hu Tao put you up to this?” After all, she always told him he needed to get laid, but he never understood where exactly he was supposed to be reclining. Mortal language had taken to weird expressions over the centuries.

“No, God, no,” Childe shakes his hands defensively. “Alright, mr. Zhongli, I’m so into you I can’t sleep at night, and I have been like that since I first saw you walking by Wanmin Restaurant, when you were trying some local delicacy and doing your ridiculous, bourgeoise critique on the authenticity of the flavours-” Childe goes quiet, his rant dying amidst its blooming as he watched Zhongli’s eyes soften and his brows tense, an unmistakable redness spreading over the adeptus’ face. “Mr. Zhongli?”

“Ajax, stop.” Zhongli hasn’t felt this flustered in thousands of years. He isn’t sure what it is about this human that is so awfully endearing, but it’s making him sear and liquify from the inside. “I’ll go out with you. We need to discuss the place and time, as well as the attire and the mood of the overall meeting, since leaving things unclear leads to misunderstandings that can not be resolved without-”

Ajax’s smile is stretching so wide across his face that he fears it’s going to split, a sudden ego boost booming so hard into his chest that he feels like he could fight the entire Fatui army and win. He takes a few steps forward and puts his hands on the table in front of the ex archon, hovering slightly above him. “Leave it to me.” He leans in closer and Zhongli can smell the exotic perfume on his skin. “There’s only one question left.”

“What?” Zhongli treads carefully, his jaw setting when a gloved hand finds his chin and tips his head back, fixing their gazes together.

“Have you ever kissed a Snezhnayan?”

[tiedyemillenialbullshit]

Hope is a Heartache

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are a series of missed opportunities, but will that stop you both from being happy?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, sexual situations, swearing, angst, LOTS of angst, fluff

A/N: I’m not sure when I became the kween of angst, but here we are. I think if I wrote smut, I’d die so maybe someday I’ll try that. For now here we are.

Written listening to: Hope is a Heartache by LEON

“How would I ever tell her that? What, that I think she’s the most stunning, hilarious, powerful, brave, most amazing woman I’ve ever met? She’d freak out, I’m like her best friend on the team, Steve.”

“I don’t know pal, but I can’t keep looking at you like this. Every time she walks by you stop breathing.”

Bucky never felt so sick to his stomach as he did when he thought about you and whatshisface. You had been on the team about as long as he had. You were both “freshmen” as Sam loved to joke, together. At first, you annoyed the shit out of him. Always going on about how he needed to try harder at this or move faster at that. Buck always confided in Steve about how much you pissed him off until finally one day Steve snapped. “DUDE. YOU. LOVE. Y/N. If you won’t admit it to me, at least admit it to yourself.”

Bucky remembers telling him exactly where he can shove it before stomping out of the Captain’s office to the gym. He had walked in on you taking some sort of frustration out on a punching bag. You didn’t hear him come in, so he stood in the shadow of the doorway and watched you. You stopped after a few moments to rip your gloves off, fix your ponytail, huff out a swear or four and decide to start punching again sans gloves.

Bucky knew in that instant he didn’t want a different partner on missions. He didn’t want you to want to go on morning runs with anyone else. He didn’t want to trust anyone else besides you.

You remember that day too. You were pissed at him, convinced he was trying to make you look bad because in Steve’s eyes, he could do no wrong. So who cares right? Oh you just wanted to hit him. That’s why you had elected to not place your boxing gloves back on and instead just rely on the tape wrapping your knuckles to not break your skin open.

You heard something behind you, and when you spun around you saw him watching you. At first, this wasn’t startling, the asshole had a serious staring problem, but he wasn’t mad. He was just watching you move. Nothing about his demeanor was menacing like it usually was. It was like Frosty had melted and standing before you was this man.

You decided then that you didn’t anyone else sparing with you in the gym, you didn’t want anyone else giving you a hard time because you couldn’t chug a beer as fast as Thor, and you didn’t want him to want anyone else as his partner.

It was like something clicked into place that day, a thread between the two of you pulled taught. You couldn’t place the feeling, you never had it before.

“Earth to Bucky. *white noise* Paging James Buchanan Barnes *white noise* Will the tin man please join us in this debriefing-“ Bucky finally recognized Sam was talking to him.

“Sorry, what?” Buck knew he was red in the face, but honestly didn’t care. Not after the sleepless night he had after witnessing you kiss your new boyfriend goodnight.

“We were discussing Wednesday’s mission, Bucky. You good?” Steve had a concerned look on his face for his best friend.

You were staring right back at Bucky as he sternly answered “I’m fine. Couldn’t sleep last night. Kept having a nightmare about some prick invading my space.”

The team exchanged glances, but that just confirmed to you that he did see you kiss Nick. You thought you heard someone shuffling inside quickly after giving your new boyfriend a lingering kiss goodnight. What was his fucking problem?

“I hate it when that happens. Maybe you should just try minding your own business in real life, then you wouldn’t have nightmares about it at night.” You shot back not breaking eye contact.

Bucky stood and left. The team knew better than to try and reason with a pissed off super soldier, so they let him leave the meeting early.

You practically ran out of the meeting as soon as it was concluded.

“What the fuck was that about?” Nat asked as she was following you uninvited into your room. Besides Bucky, she was your closest friend. Your closest friend, and your nosiest friend.

“Bucky saw me kissing Nick last night and took that as a signed permission slip to act like a fucking asshole, I don’t know. He never likes any of the guys I bring around. Honestly, that’s probably why they don’t last.” You really liked Nick, and you weren’t going to let Bucky scare this one off. Which would be a feat, seeing as your best friend was the former Winter Soldier.

“Y/N, do you think he ‘scares’ all of them off because he wishes he was them?” Nat looked at you without giving away too much of her thought process.

“What, like he wants to be my boyfriend? Come ON Nat, this is Bucky. It’s BUCKY. Even if he did have feelings for me, he’d never tell me. Because he’s BUCKY.” You weren’t sure why you were secretly hoping she argued with you about that. You always liked Bucky. But you were a professional, those feelings got pushed down a long, long time ago.

“I don’t know, Steve said-“

“OH. So now Bucky and I are the topic of your pillow talk, Nat? Great! Look, just because it worked out for you and Steve that way doesn’t mean it’ll work out for me and Buck like that.” You shot back.

“WOAH. I was going to say that Steve said he had been off lately, it probably doesn’t have anything to do with you, Y/N.”

“Oh, well, I mean, I knew that. Whatever, okay?” You stumbled. “It’s not going to happen. I’m with Nick and I’m happy for once. Whatever his issue is, he can talk to his therapist about it, I’m done being that too.”

One year later

“Y/N. Hi. Uh, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Bucky stammers to you as he’s holding the hand of some innocent enough looking blonde.

“You mean in my own kitchen? Funny how that works out. I was just leaving.” You say to him. The thought crosses your mind to introduce yourself to his new play-thing, but that will just make it seem so much more permanent. You hope your self-dismissal makes her feel awkward enough to leave but you know that won’t happen.

After the disaster that was your relationship with Nick ended after 9 months, you swore off men, including Bucky. He had eventually apologized for his behavior during that debriefing and things seemed to go back to normal. You now realize “normal” is just your funny way of saying “compartmentalizing.” Things were okay between you two because you never talked about Nick and he never asked.

After it ended between you two, he didn’t even ask. You chucked it up to him giving you your space. But that was a few months ago, and now you see why he wasn’t asking you about it.

“Night, Y/N.” Bucky calls after you.

“At least one of us seems like we’ll have a goodnight,” you yell back at him as you retreat into the hallway.

You think you hear him mumble something to his date and then you hear footsteps behind you, so you slow your pace a bit.

“What’s your fucking problem? Amanda doesn’t deserve your wrath the first time she comes over.” Bucky hush yells at you.

“The first time?! Buck, our rooms are right next to each other or did you forget that?” You actually yell at him.

“Oh trust me, how could I forget? With all the sex you had for 9 fucking months straight, the sound of you moaning is literally engrained into my mind forever and you KNOW how hard that is to do.” Bucky is screaming at you now.

“FUCK YOU JAMES.” You yell as you turn and walk towards the stairs.

“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT,” he screams.

Good. Now no sex for him.

You wait until you get to the stairwell to let loose the tears threatening to spill over. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning the fight. You two had fought so many times in your friendship. The other Avengers knew to just leave two be when you got into these kind of moods.

You and Nick didn’t work out for a lot of reasons, but the biggest one was your relationship with Bucky. He was so protective over you, and a few months ago when that stopped you realized you didn’t miss his protection, you missed how he looked at you. You missed the possibility that there was something there between the two of you. It was clear he had given up, and you hated that. He felt cold and distant. Shortly after that, Nick stopped coming around and you didn’t care.

Just as you sit down to let yourself unleash in between the second and third floors, you hear the first story doors open. You go completely quiet as to not want to alert anyone you were sitting on the stairs crying like a teenager experiencing their first heartbreak.

You think you hear whimpering or what could be shushed crying. You lean over the railing to look down at who it is. Sitting there with his head in his hands is Bucky. You don’t make a noise.

“Fucking collect yourself Barnes, she’s just being a bitch. Deal with her tomorrow.”

You didn’t realize you had that much of an impact on him, you only wanted to ruin his desire to have sex with her.

Satisfied and feeling slightly guilty, you walk back to your room for the night, not caring if he hears you.

Two months later

“Is this seat taken?” You turn to the side and look up to see Bucky looking down at you sheepishly.

“Where’s your hot date? I saved two seats for you and Amanda,” you say back to Bucky, genuinely interested in where his date was. After that awful night, you decided to put forth an effort to make things better with him. No one is kidding themselves that when you have personal stuff going on behind the scenes of work partners, it makes work in the field that much harder.

“Uh, she’s not going to make it,” he says with sad eyes.

“Oh, is she okay?”

“Uh yeah, we’re just not. We broke up this morning. Thanks for saving two seats though, that was nice of you Y/N.” Bucky sits down next to you and you wrap an arm around the back of his chair.

“I’m sorry Buck, I really did like her. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am now,” he looks at you with a slight smile to his face. You hold his gaze for a few seconds longer than normal before ruffling his hair as the DJ comes over the music.

“Ladiesssss and gentlemeeennnn please welcome to the stage…”

“I can’t believe Sam dragged us all to a strip club for his birthday,” you whisper in Bucky’s ear as the music gets louder.

“I know, look at Steve I think he’s about to have a stroke.” You and Bucky share a laugh and for a second, it’s like you’re back in your early days on the team when it seemed like all you two had was each other.

Once the girls found out the Avengers were in their midst, it was game over. If Sam’s goal was to black out tonight, he accomplished that almost immediately. Liquor was free, dances were free, and unsurprisingly the team was having an amazing time. Besides the waitresses and a few dancers, no one came into your circle, and it ended up being a really fun night. You and Bucky were having so much fun, you couldn’t remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were.

You even noticed Bucky turning down a dance or two, redirecting the girl’s attention to Thor, or the much more enthused, Sam. You expected a newly single Buck to want the attention, but he was not having it.

As the night went on, you caught Bucky staring at you, and more and more you held his stare with a curve to your lips that was reserved just for him.

“Coincidentally” the strip club was next to Sam’s favorite bar. The team decided that was the logical next destination, but you were exhausted and it must’ve been showing on your face.

“Hey doll, why don’t you say we Irish exist these assholes and head home? I’m exhausted.”

“Fuck. Yes. PLEASE let’s go!” You exclaimed as if Bucky was reading your mind. You didn’t want to be the one to suggest it, but you were so happy he did.

You both stand in line with the team but disappear behind everyone as they all head in. Bucky throws an arm around your shoulders as you walk down the street.

“You know, I’m kind of glad it’s just us the rest of the night, that was too much togetherness for me,” Bucky says. You’re blushing and you know he means he’s happy to have a friend, but you find your stomach buzzing with the hope he means something else.

“Same here,” you laugh, “what do you want to do? Grab a cab and head home? Movie? Are you spent?”

“For you? Not at all.” He’s got that dumb grin on your face that makes you want to either kiss him or smack him so he stops distracting you.

“What’re you staring at sweetheart?” You realize it’s getting harder to hide your emotions. He just broke up with Amanda, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the atmosphere, but you can’t stop the word vomit.

You stop him on the sidewalk under the streetlight. There’s no one really out on this street.

“Are we ever going to get it right?” Ope, there it is.

“Get what right?” Bucky is looking at you confused and you’re hoping you can somehow telepathically tell him you mean the two of you. Together. Finally.

“Us.”

Bucky just keeps staring at you like he did that day at the gym. Neither of you say anything, he’s got a hand on your upper arm, resting there.

The regret starts to set in. Things were just getting back to a good place between the two of you, and you just ruined it.

“You know, Amanda and I didn’t work out for a few reasons, but the main one being... ugh, shit, the main reason is that she isn’t you, Y/N.” Bucky just spoke the words you’ve wanted to hear the most but it doesn’t register at first.

He must see that either on your face or through your lack of response. You feel him pulling you in, and right before he moves his lips over yours, it hits you like a train. You love him. Your stubborn, angry, beautiful, amazing Bucky.

You kiss him back with an intensity you didn’t know was in you. You break the kiss and start giggling against his mouth.

“What! I’m not that bad of a kisser!” He’s laughing now with you.

“Sorry, sorry, I just can’t believe this is finally happening. And on a secluded street, under a street lamp. Write a romance novel already, Barnes.”

Your lips to God’s ears, a group of people start walking your way. Bucky looks around and pulls you into a small walkway between two apartment buildings.

“Come here, I wasn’t done with you.” He’s kissing you up against the brick wall like a man starved and you don’t care if anyone sees you, you’ve never felt this happy in your life.

“Let’s just do this, you and me. I’m sick of pretending like you aren’t my person,” you say against his lips.

“Y/N, I want nothing else, ever.”

[stolethekey]

i woke up just in time, now i wake up by your side

hello! this is for the (final!) @b99fandomevents—i can’t believe how far these two (and this show) have come, and i’m gonna miss them so much. i got to write this for @amydancepants-peralta, who wanted a fic where jake and amy have a disatrous first date, and then amy decides to transfer to chicago—jake has three days to convince her to stay.

enjoy! (you can also read this on ao3.)

It’s their first date, and it’s a disaster.

Neither of them has said anything in the ten minutes since they’ve sat down. Jake buries his nose into the menu, hoping that he looks occupied enough with choosing an entrée to excuse the heavy silence that has settled over the table. A few feet away, in the other side of the booth, Amy does the same thing.

A young man in a pressed suit and tie approaches their table, a small, nervous smile on his face. “Are you all ready to order?”

“Yes!” Amy nearly leaps at the chance to talk to someone who is not Jake. Jake tries not to feel too hurt by the desperate excitement in her voice. “I’ll take the chicken piccata, please.”

Jake lingers around the chicken parmesan but ends up going with a steak, because he’s determined to show Amy and maybe himself that he can eat like an adult. They pass their silk-embossed menus to the waiter, sip their waters, and suddenly it’s too quiet again.

“You got a haircut,” Jake notices, wringing his hands nervously under the table.

“It looks nice.”

“Thanks.”

There is a beat of silence that stretches just a little too long, and then Jake says, “This is awkward.”

Amy chokes out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Another moment passes. Jake swallows the non-existent saliva in his mouth. Their waiter, mercifully, returns with their food a few minutes later. Jake doesn’t want him to leave. He does, of course, and then they’re left in that terrible silence again.

Jake makes it through half his steak before speaking again. “Should we, um, just get really drunk?”

Amy grimaces, reaching for her water. “I don’t think so.” Her voice is quiet, almost defeated. “If we can’t do this sober, what’s the point?”

Something twists uncomfortably in Jake’s stomach, but he stabs his fork into his a piece of broccoli anyway. - It’s the day after their first date, and Amy asks for a transfer.

Jake learns about this through a wail from the evidence lockup that he hears from a good twenty yards away. He bursts through the door, frantic, to find Charles curled in a ball on the ground, rocking back and forth.

Charles gets out the details in between sobs, or at least enough details that Jake gets most of the picture. Amy put in a transfer to Chicago, it’s been granted on account of an emergency vacancy that needs to be filled, and she has three days left at the Nine-Nine.

“Three days,” Charles gasps, tears streaming out of his eyes. “Three days, you have to convince her to stay, Jake, you have to—”

“Hold on,” Jake says desperately, watching Charles dab at his face with a completely saturated tissue. “Let me get you another box of Kleenex.”

He opens the door to leave and runs straight into the source of Charles’s despair, in the flesh.

“Oh,” says Amy.

Jake closes the door behind him before Charles can see her and have a heart attack, then crosses his arms. “Is it true? Are you leaving?”

Amy has the grace to look self-conscious, shuffling her feet and shoving her hands in her pockets. She nods, and Jake feels strangely like the walls are swimming around him.

It just makes sense, she says. She has family there, and New York is too crowded, too expensive, and maybe Chicago is a better place to live anyway.

“Is this because of me?” Jake demands. “Because of…you know…our date?”

“No, of course not.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it.

Jake scoffs before stalking past her into the bullpen, ignoring her half-hearted call of his name. He blinks back the hot, furious tears forming in his eyes, and internally he starts a calendar. - On Day One, Jake calls in sick to work.

He responds to the “r u ok??” texts from Charles, Rosa, Gina, and Terry with a copy-and-pasted “I’m ok. Just feeling gross.” He ignores the ones that mention Amy. He also pretends like he doesn’t notice that Amy hasn’t sent him anything.

The morning is spent mindlessly scrolling through his social media beneath his blankets, with no regard for time or his grumbling stomach.

At noon, Charles posts a picture of the squad from Halloween with the caption “Gonna miss my favorite Halloween-hater. #SayonaraSantiago.” Jake decides he’s had enough Instagram for the day and finally hauls himself out of bed.

He orders a pizza, then turns his phone off and the TV on. Inadvertently, the pizza becomes both lunch and dinner and one Die Hard movie becomes a marathon—and before he knows it, the sky outside his apartment is dark.

“Well, that was productive,” Jake mutters, brushing the pizza crumbs off his lap before standing up to toss his trash into the garbage.

On Day Two, they aren’t talking to each other.

Amy looks up almost timidly as he walks out of the elevator, then waits until he reached his desk to let out a small, hesitant “Hi.”

Jake grabs the file waiting for him on his desk and walks out of the bullpen without looking at her.

So, strictly speaking, this is mostly his fault.

That fact does not do anything to quell the mixture of anger and hurt writhing in his stomach. He spends the day furiously completing paperwork in an empty interrogation room, jabbing his pen so furiously into the paper that he rips a hole in an I-918 and has to start over.

At noon, Rosa stops by with a turkey sub, which she drops wordlessly on the desk in front of him before sliding back out the door.

At five, he has completed more paperwork than he has in the last month combined. He drops the stack of files on Terry’s desk, forces a smile, and says, “Finally caught up on all those forms you’ve been hounding me about.”

Terry, his eyes piercing and slightly concerned, does not laugh. “Dismissed.”

It’s Day Three, and Holt has had enough.

He assigns Jake and Amy to label evidence in the lockup together, much to Jake’s chagrin. Amy turns and speeds off without a word. Jake turns towards Holt with a big, reproachful protest on the tip of his tongue but is cut off by Holt’s raised eyebrows and stern expression.

“Peralta, you need to get over yourself.”

“What?”

“You need to get over yourself,” Holt repeats. “Your partner of six years is leaving tomorrow, and you haven’t spoken to her in three days.”

Jake snorts, crossing his arms defensively. “Yeah, well, she’s leaving because of me, so—”

“I’m not sure that matters,” Holt says, not unkindly. “If you let her leave like this, you might never get the chance to talk to her again.”

Jake stares at the ground, furiously attempting to dig a hole in the ground with his toe.

“I know you don’t want this to be the way things end.” Holt’s voice is gentle, and Jake can’t bring himself to look up. “It would be unwise to let your pride get in the way of your last chance to save your friendship.”

“Whatever,” Jake mutters irritably, but something uncomfortable has begun to form in his gut. “Gimme that Sharpie so I can go write case numbers on a bunch of ziplock bags.”

Jake does not, in fact, get over himself—at least not for the first few hours. He chooses to instead label evidence in the same furious silence that has occupied his past three days, pretending he doesn’t see the furtive, almost timid glances Amy throws his way every few minutes.

Then he walks to a bodega for lunch and realizes mid-chew that this is Amy’s last lunch at the Nine-Nine, and the uncomfortable thing in his stomach grows a lot bigger.

He finally swallows his pride on his walk back to the precinct, and when he re-enters the evidence lockup the thing in his stomach has started feeling a lot more like guilt.

Amy walks in a few minutes after him, tossing a balled-up sandwich wrapper into the trash, and notices that he’s watching her. “You have something to say to me?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jake says quickly. “I do.”

She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes, and Jake’s heart sinks a little.

“I—uh—I’m sorry,” Jake says. “For how I reacted, and for icing you out the past few days. It was immature of me, and stupid, and I should’ve been an adult about it, but—well, I guess we both know I suck at that sometimes.”

Amy snorts, but her expression has softened slightly. “Thank you.”

“And I’m gonna make it up to you,” Jake continues, almost determinedly. “We’re gonna make this the best day you’ve ever had at the Nine-Nine.”

Amy laughs slightly. “I don’t think that’s possible, given the amount of work we have left.”

“Who cares?” Jake shrugs. “The best part of work has always been the people anyway.”

And for all the organizational skills Jake may lack, he sure knows how to delegate. All it takes is a couple text messages to a new, Amy-less precinct group chat and the rest of the Nine-Nine is off. Gina cashes in on a favor and gets Shaw’s to close its doors for the evening. Rosa makes a last-minute motorcycle trip to a local party store and uses a sizable amount of cash and her surprising aesthetic skill to acquire a large box of decorations. Charles says, “leave the food to me,” and no one is brave enough to question him about it.

Jake stays with Amy on the floor of the evidence lockup. They talk and laugh as they work, reminiscing about their years at the Nine-Nine and the particularly memorable perps they’ve brought in.

There’s also a supercut of the stuff that wasn’t work at all—the precinct parties, Charles saving Thanksgiving, the Boyle-Linetti wedding. There are the Halloween heists, the Jimmy Jabs, and there’s the Bet, with a capital B. Neither of them mentions the last one, but Jake is definitely thinking about it.

“Remember that time Terry tried to do the full bullpen and almost knocked a tooth out?” Amy asks, grinning widely. “I thought Sharon was gonna pull him out of the force immediately.”

“You have no faith,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I knew she’d let him stay.”

“You did not.” Amy points at him, narrowing her eyes. “You were so scared when she came to pick him up.”

“I was not—”

“So scared. I’ve never seen a grown man visibly tremble like that, but—”

“God, shut up.” Jake throws a balled-up piece of tape at her, and she laughs. It’s a real one, this time, one that’s bright and infectious.

They let it fade into a gentle silence, one that’s more comfortable than the ones of the past few days.

There’s a beat, and then Jake says, “Don’t go to Chicago.”

He expects Amy to be surprised by this change of subject—to recoil and give an affronted, “what?”

Instead, she sighs, long and slow, and closes the manila folder in front of her. “Jake—”

“I mean, I know it’s your decision, and I respect that,” Jake says quickly. “And if you truly meant what you said to me earlier, about how it’s important to be near your family and it’s a better place for you to live and you’ve grown out of New York—if that’s really the reason you’re leaving, then that’s fine. Just tell me, and I’ll shut up about it and we can just have a big blowout goodbye party and you can leave.”

Amy picks at the edge of her boot and says nothing.

“But if it’s not—if you’re leaving because of what happened on our date—I don’t want to be the reason you give this up, Amy. I know how much you love it here, and this place loves you too. Captain Holt is a phenomenal mentor to you, we both know that, and you might not get that in Chicago—you’ve done so much good work here that I know you’re proud of, and I can’t be the reason you don’t have that anymore.”

Amy looks at him, her eyes a stormy mix of unreadable emotions, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Look,” Jake says, splaying out his hands in front of him. “That date was kind of a disaster, we both know that. And I think it’s because we were both trying too hard, because we cared too much. Because we’re friends, Amy, and that’s what’s most important to me.”

He takes a deep breath, then says, “I don’t care if we never date. I don’t care if I never get to hug you, or kiss you, or do any of the things I’ve so desperately wanted to do. I just can’t lose your friendship. You’re the best partner I’ve ever had, and an even better friend, and I would be more than happy to just be friends with you for the rest of my life. God knows it’s more than I deserve.”

“You deserve plenty,” Amy says softly.

Jake swallows the way that makes his chest flutter. “I’m just saying—I’m laying my cards all out on the table, here. I want you to stay, and I respect it if you don’t want that. But please don’t let me be the reason for you leaving.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Amy gives him a small, wistful smile that says everything Jake needs to hear.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath and wiping his hands on his jeans. “Party at Shaw’s it is, then.”

Amy slaps the last label on a duffle bag, checks her watch, and stands. “I’m actually taking off early—I need to clear up some stuff at City Hall before I leave. I’ll meet you there?”

“Oh,” Jake says, a little dumbfounded.

Amy notices his expression and shakes her head quickly. “No, it’s not—I mean, this has been settled for days, Holt knows, I was always leaving at three today. So it’s not, like, spontaneous, you know. I would’ve told you earlier, but—"

“I was being an ass. Yeah.”

Amy gives him that little sad smile again, and Jake wants to kick a wall. “I’ll see you at the bar,” she says, almost gently.

Jake forces a smile and nods. “Yeah. Looking forward to it.” - When he pushes through the doors of his favorite bar a few hours later, Jake is expecting loud music, streamers, and—if Gina’s Instagram stories were credible—possibly Mario Lopez. Instead, the bar is completely empty.

There are no balloons, no decorations—the only set table is in the middle of the floor, and on it sits a pizza, two salads, and two glasses of water.

“What—what is this?” Jake mutters, mostly to himself.

“A dinner between two friends,” Amy says, emerging from behind the bar. She gives him a small, slightly nervous smile. “And if it goes well, a second date.”

Jake blinks.

“You were right,” Amy tells him, carrying a bottle of wine and two wine glasses to the table. “Our friendship is the most important thing, here, and it means a lot to both of us. I mean, that’s why we were trying so hard in the first place, right? Neither of us wanted it to fail.”

Jake nods in silent assent, not trusting whatever his mouth would say if he let it.

“But it did fail. Miserably.”

“Uh-huh,” Jake says, somewhat stupidly.

“So the worst thing that could happen has already happened, and we’ve gotten through it. And I think—I think, now, having gone through the past few days, we know enough to give it another shot. As long as we set very clear boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” Jake repeats. “Boundaries are good.”

“Yeah,” says Amy with a slightly amused smile. “So, we’re friends. Really good friends. And that’s what we have to protect, above anything. So this is not necessarily a date. It’s a dinner, and we’re a pair of very good friends who are gonna eat it. And if we want to, afterwards, we can decide to call it a date.”

“Can you do that?” Jake asks. “Label something a date after it’s already happened?”

“Who cares?” Amy smirks. “Since when have you followed rules?”

Jake swallows and shrugs.

“Anyway, if it’s awkward, or weird, then we move past it. It’s a slightly awkward moment between friends that doesn’t have to mean anything. No more silent treatment, no more rash decisions, just two friends who are still friends afterwards. Got it?”

“Afterwards,” Jake says slowly. “So—Chicago—”

“Yeah, I’m not going,” Amy says, her eyes sparkling. “That was a dumb thing I did to avoid this guy I went on a terrible date with.”

A broad grin starts to make its way across Jake’s face. “He sounds like he sucks.”

Amy laughs, then pulls out a chair and points at it. “So—pizza?”

The grin on Jake’s face softens into something smaller, something gentler. “Definitely.”

They each take a slice, then a bite, and Jake will never admit it—but it’s the best Meat Supreme he’s ever tasted.

[noneatnonedotcom]

RWBY before Oswald is stuck in a hard place the council needs a mission done but no one is willing to sully their hands and he can't bring himself to go see jaune he tries to talk to ruby only to have her publicly rip him a new one stating her beloved isn't a tool to be used by him and the council when he sees fit

   right so sorry I took so long with this but as you can see I did put a lot of effort into this, I hope you all like it. also @bssaz97 I’m tagging you because I know you like this au and wanted to do a scene or two with summer and tai so figured it was best to make sure you were in on the new “cannon”

                                       ADAM’S PEAK

This was a disaster, not just militarily but personally. It was devastating news, and Oswald wasn’t sure just what to do about it.

A white fang general had taken the faunas’ elite troops and had gone on a mad crusade through Vale’s countryside. In a little under a week, they would cross the western mountain chains and be into their heartlands.

The fact that Adam was not acting under orders would do little to calm the hatred of vale and the other kingdoms. Menagerie might very well be whipped off the map as a result.

The actual problem was that the huntsmen were not ready for combat like this, he barely had a thousand of the newly minted warriors, and adam was marching with some six-thousand-five-hundred troops. All with aura unlocked. All with years, sometimes decades of experience in human combat. And well equipped too. The only ones with an army left after his idea to rely solely on huntsmen was Atlas. And their military commanders were… less than ready for the war to come.

There was only one man who could save them, and Oswald already owed him too much to be willing to ask him himself.

But his hands were tied with the news that came in this morning. The council of Atlas had called back the expeditionary force under the command of ironwood. There was a significant uproar over this fact, and the returning general ironwood had launched an investigation, but Oswald knew the truth.

The first battle with the white fang was a disaster. While ironwood managed to get his men out fast enough, Adam had defeated the army soundly. It was only ironwood’s impeccable tactical understanding that allowed him to survive it. With most of his army but none of the provisions as their camp was ransacked and raided as they were forced to retreat.

And now only one man could save them, and Oswald couldn’t bring himself to ask.

When he explained the situation to ruby, she had been quiet for a long time before she finally asked, “Is that all he is to you? A sword you can draw in times of war and put away when you’d rather not face the dark truth? Who do you think you are to ask him for more after what he gave! His family was nearly left destitute by you! His legacy and way of life are gone! His reputation tarnished! His very dreams now taken from him, and I have to lie awake a night listening to his nightmares! All on your orders!” she was shouting, now unable to sit with the anger coursing through her. “WHAT MORE CAN YOU TAKE FROM HIM? THERE’S NOTHING LEFT FOR YOU, OSWALD. ALL THAT’S LEFT TO HIM IS HIS LIFE AND HIS HONOR!” she was crying now Oswald reached out trying to offer comfort to the girl by she smacked his hand away.

She glared at the man she once saw as a grandfather “he’ll go, we both know he’ll go. He’s a knight of Vale. He’ll always stand ready to protect those he loves. He’ll give the full measure of devotion for his kingdom” she turned away “you don’t deserve him, none of you do, but he’ll take up lance and sword for you” her final words as she shut the door behind her “you deserve eternal life.”

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In the backroom of the council chambers, Adam Taurus smirked, looking over his weapon a katana. Menagerie had ordered him to stand down. Told him that the time of heroes was at an end. But adam knew there was one last trial left for those who sought to be a hero. One final glory before the end of the age. And his name was Sir. Jaune the Just.

Though adam preferred his other name.

The butcher of anima.

The knight’s age was coming to an end, he knew it, jaune knew it, everyone knew it. But there would be one last glorious battle before the end. It was only a matter of setting things up. He needed jaune out of vale and away from his retenue. Luckily for him, the council wanted to be rid of the knight. And of Oswald. All they needed to do was have Oswald be the one who sent jaune out, and when the hero died, both would be gone.

This battle needed to happen. It was his last chance. If he missed this, it was over. His name would never be mentioned in the history books. But if he could take the head of the butcher? Then his name would live forever as the last knight of the world. And the last great general.

When the councilors came and told him the news, he was overjoyed. But he kept his mask up. All he needed from these fools was a chance to kill jaune. Once that was done, their bargain was complete.

And vale was wide open for plunder.

Yes, if this was the last act of the heroic age, let him return to menagerie with a heroes bounty.

In a week’s time, he would face jaune at a no named castle fortress. He didn’t mind that it had no name. For by the end of this, it would be known as adam’s peak!

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Jaune stood before his army, his steel-like gaze casting over the lot of them. They were not knights, not even soldiers and barely men, but they were his. Not for the first time, he cursed the council for sending these men out to die with him rather than having the courage to execute him themselves simply. But he put aside his anger; this wasn’t about the council; this was about his men.

“Nothing is more becoming of a man than to be brave before your enemy,” he began, his voice clear and level as he made eye contact with as many of these boys as he could. Seeking to let them know he was there with them, “but a man may be afraid and still be brave!”

The soldiers, despite their nerves and apparent fear, perked up at this, “And any man who goes into battle without fear is a moonstruck fool! To be brave is to go forward anyway, no matter how a-feared! That is why I go forward in the company of so many other brave men.”

Jaune shot the men before him a grim, but encouraging smile, “I will not lie to you, I can promise you nothing but a hard struggle to come.” Jaune was met with silence before he continued you on, “What would you have me say? I will not lie, not to you, and not for any matters of strategy or state. I will not shame myself as such. But there is one thing I will tell you.”

“YOUR FATE SHALL BE THE SAME AS MINE,” the men cheered at this, “whatever glories in the battle to come, I want you to know that we shall share them, I will be by your side!”

Jaune saw the enemy army marching over the last swell of the hill, having divided themselves into two separate forces consisting of thirty-five hundred men each.

“It is a great honor to be thought of by the kingdoms as an educated and well-read man. After all, it is the home of one of the greatest places of learning in the world! But I tell you this, in all of my studies, I have never encountered the likes of our foes! They would fill bestiaries yet unwritten, and good scholars would blush to write of their perversities!”

“And finally, I can tell you as a man of learning that a book can be beneficial before a battle, I would not recommend Tacitus though, the pages of his books are very rough on your nether regions!” the men laughed. Jaune raised his sword, “THEY WILL REMEMBER!”

A great cheer went up as the men rushed to their positions, forming together in tight spear walls on the mountain’s steep incline.

For Jaune, there was only one truth that rang in his head at the moment, that invincibility is found in defense, but victory can only be found in the offense. It’s why he had ignored the small wooden walls of the “castle” behind him.

No, he wouldn’t die cowering behind the wooden wall of a fort. His destiny lay down the hill before him. And with a determined look upon his face, Jaune kicked his horse into a gallop and went down the hill; his banner raised high...

… And rode right past the second army, making their way up towards him.

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Adam would give this to Jaune; he had indeed done his best to give his men every possible advantage. A lesser commander would have hidden behind those wooden walls at the top of the mountain, but not Jaune. He had sallied out and met him, man to man, on the field of battle. But Adam wasn’t worried. Even with such a steep incline helping the enemy, they were no match for trained soldiers with armor and aura.

The poor peasants that the council had sent to die with Jaune would be remembered at the very least, as they would have the privilege of taking place in the last battle of the Age of Knights. A movement out of the corner of his eyes showed him the banner of house arc proudly dancing in the breeze, with Jaune running down the mountainside right past his army.

He immediately ordered his second army to give chase as the envelopment meant nothing to him. In time these farmers with their pointy sticks would fall, but Jaune must not be allowed to escape and rally a defense elsewhere.

It was not some three minutes later when his lieutenants spoke of Jaune coming for them, leaving Adam to gape at such an action. What Lunacy, surely, no one would be foolish enough to charge an army on their own?!

Adam had little time to comprehend his enemy’s ploy, for when he turned around to the battlefield, he was greeted with a sight to behold. For there before him, plowing through his men as if they were nothing more than dominoes to be toppled over was Jaune Arc: His horse a resplendent white; His armor a polished to a perfect shine; and with his lance couched at a perfect angle as he connected with the unsuspecting Adam’s armor.

There was a moment of resistance before Adam felt weightless as he was taken off his horse from the momentum of Jaune’s weapon crashing against his armor. Then, he felt a flare of pain as Jaune’s lance tore through his armor and pierced his heart in a clean kill before his limp body crashed against the cold, hard ground in an undignified heap.

And then, there was nothing but the void of darkness to greet him.

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Lie Ren was not a knight. He wasn’t even a soldier. He was a farmer, a poor one at that, so when the council had said they needed men to act as levies, he’d signed up. He figured they’d have him digging ditches and carrying supplies, nothing too overtly complex he’d imagine.

But not this

The world was a haze of violence and pain in front of him; faunas in heavy armor struggled uphill through their wall of spears. He thrust without thinking, hoping that it might dissuade the warriors, while every few seconds, another cry would go up as one of his allies took a blow. Nearly all of them were bleeding now, yet none dared to fall, for to fall now would surely lead to their death. Before them, the mass of knights had formed a solid wall; he’d kill for a musket like the one Nora had wanted to buy him, but it was too expensive, and he wanted to save the money to get new farm equipment.

That steam tractor seemed so frivolous right now.

A flash of steel was his only warning as the man next to him died, clutching his throat. Eyes wide, begging for help the first one but most likely not the last. Ren thrust the spear, again and again, ignoring his growing fatigue as he did so. He’d survive this, and he’d make it home to Nora, that’s all that mattered.

But how? They were surrounded.

He wondered if Nora would find another, he hoped so. She deserved happiness, more than he could offer her, that was for sure. Her smile was the best thing about her. It was what drove him to work so hard. Knowing that she’d be back at home waiting for him, he could endure any hardships for that smile. He was hoping to marry her when he got back when the farm was stabilized, and they could build their lives together.

He hoped she wouldn’t mourn too long.

It was just as he was about to give up when he saw him; Sir Arc had gotten behind enemy lines. Down the massive slope, he could see the other half of the army giving chase. And it all happened in slow motion.

Sir Arc Riding up the hill

His lance lowered just as the enemy general turned to see him.

A great screeching as the lance went through the armor of the faunas.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

And then they started screaming.

Panic took the enemy that just a second before was utterly unfazed by them. But now, with their spirits broken, so too was their aura.

The battle was now a haze of red, and Ren gave chase without thinking. He needed this, needed to kill them as they had tried before. He stabbed with his spear running down the fleeing knights as they tried to escape his spear, barely having the time to rechamber as he killed with reckless abandon.

This was no longer a battle; it was a glorious red hazed slaughter, the most potent high of rage elation and victory ren had ever felt, and he needed more, and more, and more! Let the world drown in his enemy’s blood.

HE’D KILL THEM ALL!

Eventually, though, they ran out of men. And ren came down from his high, all around him were tired bloody men, but more importantly, the field was covered in a carpet of dead knights, so much so that the grass couldn’t be seen underneath.

Ren looked at the sky, and that couldn’t be right.

The sun hadn’t moved; it was still high noon.

It had felt like hours, but…

“One thousand men, and seven and a half minutes,” came the voice of Sir Arc. Ren took in the sight of their savior. His horse, once pure white, was now covered in red. His armor the same, his eyes tired. “That’s what it took to gain victory over six-thousand-eight-hundred and thirty-eight men. All consisted of the greatest knights still living after the great war, and the Faunus rights revolution. And the leadership to the militant arm of the white fang” Sir Arc laughed, “and it took me seven and a half minutes AND A THOUSAND FARMERS WITH POINTY STICKS!” and the call went up, the men cheered and hollered. Their cries echoing off the mountain.

Ren would go home to Nora; when he did, they would make love, to the point that he exhausted her. And they would keep going until a week later when Ren’s pay would show up, along with a sizable bonus, and a note.

In time all this would happen, but for now, ren stood on the pile of corpses, covered in blood, spear raised high over his head, and he screamed his victory to the gods on the slopes of what would be known as Adam’s peak.

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Legends would be told of this battle jaune knew as he looked over the clean up being done by his men, the knights of note and the leaders were being beheaded, jaune personally doing the honors for adam. He had plans for all of them. He also had a message from adam’s personal effects back at his camp. He and the council would be having words, and all the world would know of their misdeeds.

The battle itself was the deathblow to the knightly way of life though, jaune could feel it in his bones. It was jaune’s victory purely because of the weaknesses of the knightly system. Aura was based on morale, how willing to fight a man was. When things were going well in a fight, this was all well and fine but scare a man, disrupt his concentration, and he could no longer muster the will to fight, then he was just as vulnerable as any other. Perhaps worse so, as all his skill was based on what he could do with his aura.

The weak point of an army was always their order of battle and morale. And when jaune had killed adam, it had broken them, they could have rallied, but luckily one brave warrior by the name of Lie Ren had rushed forward, seizing the initiative, and as a result, inspiring all the men behind him to push forward as well.

Lie Ren had won this battle just as much as he did.

But adam had committed everything to this battle and lost everything. The knightly system was high risk, high reward, with no real way of knowing how the results would turn out.

The huntsman system didn’t have this problem. It was decentralized, meaning you couldn’t kill a general to break the enemy’s will. And the loss of a team of hunters meant very little in the grand scheme of things. Vale could lose again and again now and still have more to give.

The system was simply a higher reward for lesser risk. And so jaune was faced with the unenviable knowledge that he was the one to end the age of knights. And that he would be the last commander for the final battle.

The after-action report was straightforward. After all, he was only writing it for Oswald. And that was only so ruby would know he was alive before he showed up with the heads of his enemy. Perhaps vale would hate him for this as well, but he no longer cared what happened to that den of vipers.

Jaune had been stationed in the mountains that will henceforth be known as Adam’s peak. He had one-thousand levies from the local farms, poorly trained and equipped. And he had been engaged by the enemy army of the White Fang numbering six-thousand-eight hundred and thirty-eight. Being made up of the elite knights and veteran leadership of the white fang. Knowing that the wooden castle walls would do him no good, he had set his men on the steepest slope in a choke point. It would not have granted him victory, but it had bought him time and had set up the next stage of his strategy.

Adam had sought to capture him for a grand execution and had sent half his army to ensure that he did not escape. Jaune had gambled on the fact that he was a high priority of the enemy general and had run past the second army with his banner held high. Jaune was right in that the enemy was quick to pursue him. He then made a suicidal charge through the back lines of the enemy and slew Adam in a single blow. Therefore, the morale of his enemy and their aura shattered the rest had been a simple mop-up action to ensure they could not rally. With him personally hunting down and killing the enemy commanders as his men slaughtered the rest.

Having followed him, the second army was already exhausted from the chase and, with their auras weakened, could not run away fast enough, blocking the first armies escape and ruining any chance of organizing resistance as units ran through each other to get away, utterly destroying cohesion.

In total, the battle had taken him seven and a half minutes. In seven and a half minutes, Jaune Arc had shifted the direction of fate and history and had secured for himself the title that all would know him by for the rest of his life.

Sir Jaune Arc, The Just, The Butcher Of Anima.

And The Knight of Miracles

[bookloveravenue]

Defy the Night by Brigid Kemmerer

From New York Times bestselling author Brigid Kemmerer comes a blockbuster fantasy series about a kingdom divided by corruption, the prince desperately holding it together, and the girl who will risk everything to bring it crashing down.

The kingdom of Kandala is on the brink of disaster. Rifts between sectors have only worsened since a sickness began ravaging the land, and within the Royal Palace, the king holds a tenuous peace with a ruthless hand.

King Harristan was thrust into power after his parents' shocking assassination, leaving the younger Prince Corrick to take on the brutal role of the King's Justice. The brothers have learned to react mercilessly to any sign of rebellion--it's the only way to maintain order when the sickness can strike anywhere, and the only known cure, an elixir made from delicate Moonflower petals, is severely limited.

Out in the Wilds, apothecary apprentice Tessa Cade is tired of seeing her neighbors die, their suffering ignored by the unyielding royals. Every night, she and her best friend Wes risk their lives to steal Moonflower petals and distribute the elixir to those who need it most--but it's still not enough.

As rumors spread that the cure no longer works and sparks of rebellion begin to flare, a particularly cruel act from the King's Justice makes Tessa desperate enough to try the impossible: sneaking into the palace. But what she finds upon her arrival makes her wonder if it's even possible to fix Kandala without destroying it first.

Set in a richly imaginative world with striking similarities to our own, Brigid Kemmerer's captivating new series is about those with power and those without . . . and what happens when someone is brave enough to imagine a new future.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55891833-defy-the-night

********

September 18, 2021

My Review: 5/5 Stars

Loved this one! Brigid Kemmerer has yet to disappoint me with her books. A new fantasy romance YA that ha some of her most interesting characters. In the kingdom of Kandala, the people are riddled with an illness that has no real cure. The only thing that helps is an elixir made with from the petals of a Moonflower. Tessa and her friend Wes risk their lives each night to distribute the elixir to those who need it. Yet their efforts are never truly enough. The King and the consuls are in constant battles with one another and the King and his Justice do all they can do appeal to those consuls, help their people, and squash a rebellion that threatens to collapse everything. While Tessa is one point of view in the story the other comes from Prince Corrick, the King's Justice. Or better known has the executioner and the one who is constantly trying to rid those who threaten to cause chaos. Nothing about Corrick is simple. He is a complicated man filled with secrets. But when it comes to protecting his brother, the King, he will do whatever he can. One of the things I loved about this story is that it showed there is nothing simple about each side. From the Tessa's side, the king and prince are cruel. They don't help the people and they only kill those in their way. But from Corrick's, he and his brother have been forced to show no weakness. They were thrust on the throne when their parents were assassinated in front of them and the only way to keep control was to show no fear. But they want to save their people and there is no simple way to do it. On top of having so many great characters, there are some pretty wild twists and turns. Masks and secrets are constantly in play. Truly loved this story and I was hooked from page one. I think another one should be following this story and I hope so! I'm not ready to say goodbye to this world just yet.

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Newsies Prompt List

Prompt list set to the Newsies soundtrack (mixing both the musical and the movie, with the bonus The Truth About The Moon) — it’s entirely self serving but I hope that other people find these prompts fun too!

Soon your friends are more like family and they's beggin' you to stay!

Don't you know that we's a family?  Would I let you down?  No way

It's a crooked game we're playin'

Give me a week and I'll train them to be like an army that's marching to war

This life's too short to waste it on you

Love at first sight's for suckers, at least it used to be

I never planned on someone like you

And the world will know, we been keepin' score

And the things we do today will be tomorrow's news

So the world says no?  Well the kids do too

Try to walk all over us, we'll stomp all over you

Picture a handsome, heroically charismatic — plain spoken, know nothing, skirt-chasing, cocky little son of a—

I'll be twice as good as that six months from never

Just look around at the world we're inheriting and think of the one we'll create

Their mistake is they got old, that is not a mistake we'll be making, no sir, we'll stay young forever!

It's David and Goliath, do or die

But all I know is nothing happens if you just give in, it can't be any worse than how it's been

And it just so happens that we just might win, so whatever happens! Let's begin!

Now is the time to seize the day

Courage cannot erase our fear, courage is when we face our fear

Behold the brave battalion that stands side by side, too few in number and too proud to hide

Then say to the others who did not follow through, you're still our brothers, and we will fight for you

Once we've begun, if we stand as one, someday becomes somehow, and a prayer becomes a vow

Proud and defiant, we'll slay the giant, judgment day is here

Let me go faraway, somewhere they won't ever find me, and tomorrow won't remind me of today

Trapped where there ain't no future, even at 17!

I can't spend my whole life dreaming, though I know that's all I seem inclined to do

Ya don't need money when you're famous! They gives ya whatever you want, gratis!

Ain’t I pretty, it's my city, I'm the king of New York!

You said that a fam'ly looks out for each other, so tell all the fellas from me, to protect one another!

Get those kids to see we're circling victory, and watch what happens

We're doing something no one's even tried and, yes, we're terrified, but watch what happens

You can’t undo the past so just move on and stay on track

Be glad you're alive, boy, I'd say that's the bottom line

Just got word that our buddies is hurtin', facing total disaster for certain

The cavalry’s coming

You know we've got your back from way back

Till the moment I found you, I thought I knew what love was

The world finds ways to sting you and then one day decides to bring you something to believe in

One night may be forever, but that's all right

And if you're gone tomorrow, what was ours still will be

I have something to believe in, now that I know you believed in me

An angel come to save me who didn't even know she gave me something to believe in

There's change coming once and for all

Tomorrow they’ll see what we are, and sure as a star, we ain’t come this far to lose

Write it in ink or in blood, it’s the same

In a few hours by dawns early light we'll be ready to fight us a war

Finally we's raising the stakes, this time whatever it takes!

I'm seeing kids standing tall, glaring and raring to brawl

Once and for all there'll be blood on the wall if they doubt us

They think they're running this town, but this town will shut down without us

There's change coming once and for all, you're getting too old, too weak to keep holding on

A new world is gunning for you, and so, we is too!  Til once and for all you're gone!

Don't take much to be a dreamer, all you do is close your eyes

You win some, you lose some, my dear!

I always land on my feet

Just get this done and by dawn's early light you can finish the fight you began

Once and for all there's a fire inside me that won't stop burnin'

This is do it or die, this is war!

Once and for all, we'll be there to defend one another

Better to die than to crawl

Either we stand or we fall, for once and for all

I'm alone but I ain't lonely

For a dreamer night's the only time of day

I'm gonna live forever, it's a feeling time can never take away

Where does it say you gotta live and die here?

And the world will feel the fire and finally know!

I saw the words all fly away so fast, so far

And was the moon especially bright, I really can’t recall

And this was the first time the facts of the matter didn’t matter at all

Let me be someone different from me from now on

Someone who seems to get by with a smile

When I looked into his eyes, I could not look away

But then as gentle as a breath his hand was touching mine, and I discovered a feeling I somehow could not define

You’re the seed of a dream, not a plan

At least I don’t shed many tears down here in my cocoon

I’m protected by my facts, like the truth about the moon

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Happy | Poe Dameron

✦ pairing — Poe Dameron x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 3.6k

✦ request — can I request one where reader used to date Ben in secret and then she joins the resistance and starts dating Poe? And then Rey brings Ben back to the resistance instead of him dying in tros and tried to get her back so poe gets jealous but she cant forgive ben and doesn’t love him anymore?

✦ warnings — angst, jealousy, fluff, sexual innuendos.

✦ gif credit

☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎

You felt someone’s stare, heavy and piercing from afar. Unable to turn around for you were speaking to General Organa, you rolled your healthy shoulder.

“Who’s that?” Rey asked, pointing at the bandaged arm Poe had just observed.

He instinctively smiled. “That’s (Y/N), our only diplomat left.”

Rey hummed, watching you with more attention now. Your form was unmistakable, your profile hadn’t changed much although your mannerisms had — you stood with your head held up high now, with an amazing posture if she may say so herself.

“She could help us!”

“She already does,” he pointed out. “She’s been part of The Resistance for years now.”

“No, no. I’ve seen Kylo’s mind, she’s always there. They love each other deeply. Poe,” Rey turned really serious, “she could end this war and bring him to the light.”

He still remembered the first time he saw you, no long after he joined and was made Commander. Poe had been pacing, impatient to get some news already, in Leia’s office.

You had arrived, annoyed, and snapping at your protocol droid for not shutting up. Then he had ruined it furthermore by ogling at you and blocking your way into the room.

In his defense, the General hadn’t told him the diplomat would stunt him with their beauty. She had scolded him for not letting you in, stifling a laugh when he took a chair out for you to sit.

Poe was captivated by you when he heard you complain about The New Republic. They were refusing to see The First Order as a threat which you qualified as moronic and delusional — he agreed wholeheartedly.

The admission of having insulted someone had never been so attractive to him until Leia asked you if the reason why Lonno Desa refused to maintain talks with you was that you insulted him and you admitted, “not to his face.”

As Snap liked to say, he was smitten. Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the galaxy and the biggest flirt in the system, was smitten for someone who had turned him down on several occasions.

He knew he wasn’t entitled to anything — hell, he appreciated that you hadn’t led him on! But hearing you say you weren’t the relationship type broke his heart. It felt extremely personal, almost like an attack on his ability to be the right person for someone.

And now Rey was telling him you were in love with someone else.

Fuck.

Leia was against the idea of telling you about it, you had the right to continue your life the way you liked it. The more Rey insisted that you weren’t happy without Ren, the worse Poe’s chest tightened.

Then you entered the room, asking if you could help with anything and he lost it. Poe stormed out of there, glaring at anyone who tried to approach him as he made his way across the hangar. He didn’t know why he was so angry, but he felt as though rage was consuming him. His skin was hot, breath ragged.

Wandering around the jungle had always calmed him. It reminded him of home, of those afternoons he spent with his mom, learning how to pilot from the best. He missed her the most when he lost control of his emotions, when he felt again like that little boy scared of his parents never coming back.

He had experienced a similar fear hours before. You were only alive because you left Hosnian Prime earlier than you should have had. And now his newest friend was unconscious in the infirmary while you were talked into going back to your ex-boyfriend.

He had been sure you liked him, there was no other explanation for the way you stared at him and your gentle tone when you spoke to him. Poe had accepted your friendship gladly, he loved spending time with you whenever the two of you were available and seeing the worry leave your features when he came back from a mission. But friends didn’t stare longingly at each other from across every room, friends were never asked how long had they been dating when one reminded the other they needed to eat or get some sleep.

Confusion and anger were a bad combination, and there he was drowning in both of them.

“That was a little rude, Commander.”

Poe jumped to his feet upon hearing your voice. You looked at your surroundings, making sure there wasn’t a creature lurking in.

The aliveness of D’Qar terrified you, how untamed it was in competition to back in Chandrila where the gentle sounds of the lake made calm reign over the chaos of its citizens. You didn’t dislike it per se, but it was a taste you were still in the process of acquiring.

“I just needed some fresh air,” he explained, sitting back on the thick log. You were still staring at the tree to your right, presumably in thought.

“You know,” you mused, “I used to say that when I was a teen. I would visit Lake Sah'ot, sit in front of it, and stare at the crystal clear water with the excuse that I needed fresh air.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re not a better liar than teenage me, and she was embarrassingly bad.”

“I feel furious,” he confessed. “I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I wanted to calm down.”

His confession prompted you to take your eyes off the greenery to look at him. Poe’s head hung down as he fixed his eyes on his boots.

“You’re alive, Poe. That’s normal.”

“The reason behind it is the problem.”

“Fix it.”

He didn’t have to gaze at you to know you had said it with a shrug. You always made things sound easy, maybe it was how used you were to convince people to do what you deemed appropriate.

“Can I ask you something?”

You stepped closer to him, taking a seat on the same lodge he was resting on. “Anything.”

“Are you in love with Kylo Ren?”

A long sigh escaped you. “I’ve never met him.”

“Rey said you knew him as a teen.”

“He wasn’t Kylo Ren back then,” you clarified. The distinction was important for you, for your morals, for your pride, for your heart.

Laying on the grass, hand laced with his, you had asked Ben, “will you miss me?” with the hopes the inquiry would make him change his mind. You knew it wasn’t an easy thing to do, that he actually wanted to stay home, but every option you had given him he had ignored.

You were ready to leave your life behind for him. He had the force and you, what else could he need? The Galaxy was so vast you were sure the two of you could find the perfect planet to hide.

Ben however didn’t answer the question, deflecting by reminding you it wasn’t his choice. There was a wave of underlying anger in his tone that scared you, it had never sounded so deep.

Seeing him leave had been heartbreaking. His promise of keeping contact with you had been the only flickering hope you had, one that never ignited back.

You knew you had lost him no longer after. Oh, teenage love, naive and raw with no way to break the inevitable fall. His promise had never meant to be kept, but you had found said truth too many sleepless nights later, eyes brimmed with tears and disappointment in yourself bubbling up inside your chest.

When Leia gave you the news of his new identity, you didn’t know how to react. One thing was being left behind and another was your first love giving in to what his family had been fighting against for years. Ben betrayed everything he had sworn to love, destroying lives and dreams as mere collateral damage.

“Just… answer the question. Please.”

“I am not.”

“She said you’re not happy.”

She was right, you weren’t. You were fighting against everything you were feeling, things you had once assumed you had already experienced.

It had been cruel, you had wondered if the stars hated you, if there was something in you that had pushed Ben to choose the dark side. And when you started to think you would never go through that anguish again, you met Poe.

There were differences, he would never fall to the dark side, you were sure of that, Poe would rather die than give in to the wishes of an oppressing organization. But you were still you, the first relationship you had was an utter disaster and every time you had tried with someone else hadn’t been too contrasting.

Rejecting him had been painful from the beginning. Having a man so handsome and charming, so brave and dedicated, interested in you after having to put up with the worst kind of men you could ever imagine to exist, sounded too good to be true.

Poe never tried to pressure you into accepting to date him. He would ask if you had changed your mind when he caught you staring for too long. You had wanted to say yes really badly, but it wasn’t right — you weren’t ready to experience heartbreak again, to ruin another person.

You felt lonely, of course you did. Every time you saw him you wondered how it would be like to wake up beside him, hold his hand and play with his curls, to be held by him, to be his and for him to be yours.

“Are you happy?”

Poe turned to his left, where you were sitting. Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t think anyone is happy when we’re at war.”

You had to agree with that. “Then why would my unhappiness be caused by an ex-lover?”

“Rey—“

Interrupting him, you told him something you hadn’t planned to, “I know what she saw, but she only saw his version — mine’s different. I am not suffering because of him.”

“I’m jealous.”

“I know.”

“Is it bad that I want you to suffer for me?”

The question sounded cruel which he hadn’t intended. He just wanted to be in your mind like you were in his. He wanted you to have vivid dreams about him and to fantasize of him only to become disappointed because you didn’t have him. He wanted you to want to have him, that was all.

“You know I already do.”

But Poe didn’t know anything anymore. He wouldn’t hold against you a past relationship, what kind of person did that? But he did hold against you the adamancy on pushing him away when now you said to be suffering because of him.

“Do I?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve turned me down hundreds of times.”

You nodded, wetting your lips. “And it makes me suffer. Those two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he huffed.

Resting your hand on his shoulder, you leaned forward. As you left a kiss on his cheek, you murmured an apology. Poe turned his face, lips brushing yours as his eyelashes batted against yours — you didn’t move, staring at him while trying to fight the urge to kiss him.

It was a battle you would have never won, first because you didn’t want to and second of all because Poe knew you well enough to know you were about to pull away so he kissed you before you could do it.

To his delight, you kissed back immediately. His arm snaked around your middle, pulling you flush on his side while his free hand held your face. Sliding your healthy hand toward his farthest shoulder, you tilted your head to kiss him deeper.

Slowly, you parted from him, breathing in his own harsh breath as he inhaled and exhaled on your face. You expected Poe to say something, but he only kissed you again.

“This is the worst moment to say this,” you mumbled against his lips, “but I have to make a holo call in a few minutes.”

He whined. “Will you pay attention to me later?” His lips caressed yours as he said it.

You gave him another kiss, short and sweet. “We’ll see.”

With another whine, he stood up, his arm still around you as you did the same. The two of you walked in silence toward the base, him finding adorable how weary you were of your surroundings.

Rey tried to talk to you again, you could see the desperation in her eyes. Poe tightened his arm on your waist, but you slid off his grasp momentarily. Assuring him you wouldn’t take too long, you pulled Rey to the side.

Giving explanations wasn’t something you were used to, but this was a war we were talking about. So you told her your reasons behind not getting near Kylo, and although disappointed she respected them.

☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎

You ran into his arms, forgetting his rank and the fact that you weren’t alone. Poe buried his face in the crook of your neck, hugging you the tightest he had ever done.

Keeping the tears in was a challenge. You had thought you wouldn’t see him again for a moment, that you would have to live without his stupid jokes and his bright smile. You wouldn’t have been able to take it.

But he was there, kissing your forehead and reminding you everything would be okay from now on. The First Order was gone and Palpatine was dead.

You assumed Rey was staring, the intensity of the first time she looked at you almost made you part from Poe and ask what was wrong. Almost. Poe didn’t let you move, trapping you into his arms.

Complaining would be foolish, his hugs were your favorite. Everything about Poe could be cataloged as your favorite, from his kisses to his sense of duty.

You only parted from Poe to hug Finn who reminded you he was there too by kissing your hair. You had grown to see him as a brother in the past year, to proudly watch his progress and his now unwavering belief in the cause.

As you moved to then hug Rey, you froze. Beside her, the face you had expected to never see again smiled softly at you.

Frowning, you cleared your throat to politely say, “I’m sorry for your loss, Ren.”

Kylo opened his mouth to thank you, until he realized you hadn’t called him by his name. “It’s Ben, actually.”

“Noted.”

Finn shrugged when you stared at him in search for an explanation, Poe didn’t even meet your eyes. Your boyfriend started cleaning BB-8 in the middle of the hangar, humming as the droid beeped quietly.

The consequent three days felt way longer, you had assumed a week and a half passed due to how exhausted you were. Poe was constantly in a bad mood, fighting with Rey over little things and ranting about it to you.

His attitude made you regret giving up your individual quarters at times. You loved sharing everything with him and wouldn’t change him for the entire galaxy, but you were really, reaaaaaaally tired.

“Babe,” you interrupted his complaining. “Why don’t you take a day off? Just one.”

He frantically shook his head, as if the idea of having a good night of sleep was heinous. “There are a lot of things to do, darling. And not enough time.”

“We’re not at war anymore,” you reminded him.

Something crossed his eyes. Poe rolled on the bed to lay on his side, draping his arm over your belly to pull you closer. “Why don’t we talk about something else, gorgeous?”

Facing him, you felt the frustration leave your system. Poe always looked at you with too much devotion, his expression was neutral yet his eyes were shining — you had never seen anything prettier.

☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎

Waking up next to him was a dream all on itself, his messy curls brushing your arm and his warm body burning yours up — both literally and metaphorically.

Never had you felt more at peace nor happier than in Poe’s arms. At times you felt as though nothing else but him existed — you were positive the past year or so would have been unbearable without him. He was everything you had, and for once it was enough — every fear and insecurity had slowly been erased, between a few fights due to his recklessness and your stubbornness but nothing a long conversation wouldn’t fix.

All those doubts of losing his valuable friendship vanished a few months into the relationship. Now your conversations were longer, intimacy functioned at every level, his jokes were funnier and dirtier. You were happy, Poe made you happy.

You would have loved to stay in bed cuddling, but between your duties and his, It didn’t sound realistic. Soon you would be able to, if everything went according to plan and the survivors from The New Republic accepted to hear him and Finn out; you weren’t sure what their entire plan was made of, but you trusted them.

Rey and Rose joined you for lunch, exchanging looks every few minutes. The dining hall was almost empty, you didn’t have any excuse to ignore their antics.

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

Biting her bottom lip, Rey nodded. “I talked to Finn, but… look, Poe is taking it a little too far.”

“A little too far with what?”

Rose started playing with her glass, avoiding looking at either you or Rey in case the topic sparked a fight. She hated being in the middle, and as much as she understood you often took Poe’s side because he was your boyfriend, she was on Rey’s side this time.

Poe smiled brightly as you walked toward him, angling his arm for you to fit against his side. Not wanting to cause a scene, you hugged him by the waist with an arm and whispered in his ear that you needed to talk to him.

You followed him to his and Finn’s office, keeping your mouth shut although you were about to lose control.

He took his jacket off, reaching for your hips. You placed your hands on his chest, he looked as good as ever, but you weren’t there to fuck him.

You went straight to the point, “Why did you make Ben a janitor?”

Oh, so he was Ben again, huh. Poe shrugged. “He has to start somewhere.”

“Poe…”

He removed his hands off your hips, opting for crossing his arms against his chest. “Why do you care so much?”

Sliding your hands down his torso to free them from the tight grip of his forearms, you deadpanned, “Because there are protocols for these kinds of situations.”

“He’s a war criminal.”

“And there’s a protocol for that,” you repeated, lifting your eyebrows.

His first mistake was stuttering, “T—the protocol can’t be followed right now.” His second mistake was forgetting you knew more about those things than him. “When we re-establish the New Republic—“

“Do you really want to make those mistakes again?”

“No, and that’s not the point, you know it.”

“You’re being petty, that’s the point.”

“He should be punished.”

“Punished by cleaning the base, that will teach him!”

“Keeps him busy.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s Leia’s son.”

“And your ex-boyfriend,” Poe gritted. There it was, the real problem. He had seen the idiot, trying to spark conversation with you and asking about your family.

How dare he ask when you had lost many loved ones because of him? And why weren’t you furious?

Pursing your lips as your shoulders dropped, you grabbed him by the neck. “I don’t care about him, we’ve talked about that.”

“What if he wins you back?” Poe wondered out loud, not really meaning to do it.

Dropping your hands to his forearms, you made him uncross his arms. Guiding his palms to your back, not withdrawing yours until his touch turned firm, you leaned forward.

You found astounding how often you regretted not having started dating him earlier but this time was different, it wasn’t only regret but shame. If you had, he wouldn’t be so stressed and in consequence you wouldn’t have to put up with people telling you to calm him down or talk him out of things.

“I love you.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “Only you.”

Closing his eyes, he leaned into your touch. “I don’t want to lose you, much less to him.”

You kissed him. “You won’t.”

“Never, ever?”

“Nope,” you popped the p. “You’re stuck with me, General.”

You knew what being called by his rank did to him. Poe smirked, kissing you more heavily than you had kissed him as he turned both of you around, trapping you between his torso and the desk.

His tongue slipped inside your mouth only for you to suck on it, moaning as his hands came up to cup your breasts. His fingers worked quickly in undoing the buttons of your shirt as he dragged his lips down to your neck, sucking gently on your skin.

The doors slid open. “Hey, P— oh, man, not again!”

You turned your head to the side while Poe lifted his face off your chest in order to look at the doorway, where an annoyed Finn was glaring at both of you. Poe blocked the view as you buttoned your shirt back up, asking Finn if he needed anything.

“For you two to not have sex there, first of all. It’s my desk too!”

You gave Finn a sheepish smile before half-heartedly apologizing. “I will leave you two to talk about important matters.”

As you left the office, you could hear Poe complaining about Finn’s awful timing.

[appleb18]

Star vsThe Forces of Evil Season 4... One Year Later

One year ago, Star vs The Forces of Evil ended its fourth season and it was a disaster. It wasn’t always all that bad, in fact the show was pretty good on it’s first two seasons and bit of season 3 however it's just the final season that ruins it. It didn’t live to people expections and it felt rushed. Now let’s discuss how the show messed up shall we? 

Behind the Failure

Before I talk about the dreadful writing of season 4, I want to talk about behind the scenes of the show's downfall. According to Daron Nefcy Twitter, she tweeted that “Just finished the last episode of Star vs The Forces of Evil” a month before the finale. 

It’s fine if it was an episodic show like Phineas and Ferb, Batman Brave and the Bold and episodic shows but writing an ending for an ongoing story is something you should NEVER do. Writing the ending without a plan is a terrible decision to make, especially past plot points that were established and most of them were left answered. 

 You’ll probably be thinking that they were rushed and while I understand that all plot points can’t be answered like Gravity Falls but they wanted to make the romance their top priority over the story, which I’ll talk about later. Daron actually knew she had four seasons to work with and it makes it so frustrating to hear! 

So now let’s talk about how it all went wrong. 

Character 180

Previously, I used to like most of the cast, they used to be enjoyable characters but in season 4, oh dear they all turned into pricks.  

The onlys characters that didn’t get ruined in the fourth season were

Eclipsa and Globgor 

River Butterfly 

Tom Lucitor 

But everyone else, they all became such unbearable picks like The Magic High Commision. They used to act like decent people, trying to defend Mewni from Ludo/Toffee

And they actually have character, especially Rhombulus growth when he befriends Star. 

But they get character assassinated and become monster haters with no actual reason just like the Mewnimen and they never atone for what they’ve done to the Butterfly family. 

Moon betrayal came out of nowhere and it only lasted like seven minutes then she joins Star and Eclipsa because she didn’t realize Mina and her soldiers are going to commit genocide. Why didn’t she see that coming? They were racist to monsters, did she think they’ll actually spare them? 

Her reason behind is so stupid and that is because she doesn’t trust Eclipsa ruling Mewni but why all the sudden? While it’s true she let her get shot by Meteora but that’s an mother instinct to protect her child. Also she tried to kill her own daughter to protect Star and Mewni. So Moon shouldn’t see her irresponsbile. While she isn’t fit to be ruler, she is trustworthy. What’s worse is she admittedly teams up with them to defeat Mina.  

Then there’s Star and Marco, the two main characters of the show and they became terrible people. All of the development from the previous seasons get thrown out of the window. 

Marco never talked to his parents after he left and barely visits because “he’s too busy” and he didn’t even know he’s gonna get a baby sister. Clearly doesn’t care when Star’s mom goes missing, his ego in the Neverzone and neglecting Nacho’s for a very long time at least 1000 years. Marco breaks up with Kelly for no reason and he knows what’s she going through.

For Star, she acts more of a princess and has responsibilities, having a reason why she can’t go back to Earth but it doesn’t excuse her being a terrible person. She’s irresponsible that she leaves Rhombus and Eclipsa alone despite it’s very clear they want to kill each other, she’s a brat in “Junkin’ Janna”, she’s so rude to Tom when he comes a better person for her, she’s been eyecandy on Marco even though she has a boyfriend and she’s a complete dick in “Cleaved”. I hate the excuse for her acting like a prick because “she’s a teenager, and teenagers are dumb”. What a load of bull 

Losing Focus 

Season 4 has to be the most unforced in the entire show. They present plot points and they barely explore it. They’ll make a comment about it and the show just moves on from it. Mostly showing shipping episodes and filler 

The show introduced that mewmens were originated from Earth but never further explored that. 

Mewni hates monsters but never shows why and how. It just makes them complete dicks throughout season 

They never had a set goal or what’s trying to be. The only thing that made the plot moving was Moon disappearance but it gets resolved in two episodes. 

So the only thing left is Star trying to end racism for season 4. The problem with this is there’s no stakes, if she fails, monsters and mewmens won’t get along and that’s fine because their children on both sides won’t make the same mistake as they did, making it no need to push it.

It would’ve worked better if they showed the Mewni perspective when Eclipsa became ruler. Unfortunately, they display them as unguided children, expecting Moon to do everything for them and complain. Also they hate monsters because they do not like them.  Most of them go live with Moon, making them not accept change nor monsters. They don’t deserve any sympathy, they are just a bunch of idiots who are racist. 

And the thing that made the season so unfocused is the freaking shipping. 

Starco is Terrible 

Remember when it was good back the first two seasons but season 3 and mostly season 4 made it so hard to watch and instead of shipping being a subplot like most shows, they turn it into a main plot. I don’t understand why they have to prioritize shipping over the story. It’s inevitable that Starco will become cannon because that’s what people wanted but it cost to establish ships to be torn down in the most frustrating way.

Kelly and Marco break up with no reason why and it’s off screen.  

Star is a bad girlfriend to Tom, leaving Star crying

Then in a few hours, Star and Marco become a couple. Only a few hours and the resolution was so dang quick. It makes me wonder why they have to stay so long if she loves Marco more than him? 

Star and Marco would rather die together instead of being with their family despite their relationship just starting. It would’ve worked better if Tomstar broke up earlier and Starco become cannon so we can see their relationship more than just a few episodes. There’s really no need to drag it for so long! 

Mina Loveberry isn’t Threatening

Mina Loveberry, the main villain for season 4 and yet didn’t do anything. Unlike Toffee scheming behind the scenes for three seasons, Ludo raising an army of rats and gaining better control of the wand and Meteora powers growing, she didn’t play her role for the whole season. All she did is she rebuilt her battle armor and send poison fruits to Eclipsa, that’s it. The show never showed how dangerous she is 

While sure she can beat Star and Tom but she got oneshoted by Meteora who got defeated by Eclipsa. So she really isn’t that big of a problem to handle. 

In the finale, again she never did anything and she got knocked down by a Corrupted Unicorn, making her not so dangerous like other characters said she was

Seth should’ve been the main villain instead of that crazy lady but unfortunately, they never introduce him even though he’s still alive according to The Book of Spells.  

Cleaved 

So the series finale and I have to say, my god how the show has fallen. This finale is a disaster, it’s way worse than any other cartoon finale such as Adventure Time and Steven Universe Future. 

With no build up, Star has come to a conclusion that she needs to eradicate magic because it’s bad. There weren't any clear signs that magic is truly bad. Star never actually thought about everyone else that is made out of magic or used it for their daily life. The only thing she realized is she won’t be with Marco. Not able to her friends or the many lives she’ll ruin but she won’t see Marco and everyone agrees to destroy the magic. 

So Star and Marco go to the World of Magic to destroy it. As they enter and almost forget who they are, the pudding apparently helps them jog their memory and he’s carrying a lot of them. 

They realized Tom was still at the realm and he’s riding on the Corrupted Horse so Marco will handle it while Star uses the whispering spell to destroy it.

Star gets help destroying magic by Eclipsa, Moon and for some odd reason Meteora can do it too with her butterfly form even though she never went through mewberrity. Then the past queens help them out too

As they were destroying magic, Marco feeds Tom the pudding but gets impaled by the unicorn with dramatic music playing but that got completely scrapped when he goes back to Earth. 

After they successfully destroyed magic, Star and Marco have to go back their worlds but then she decided she wants to abandon everything and everyone so she can be with Marco and he does the same by staying in the realm. They both hug and something happens through the power of love that links between two worlds and again they were a couple for two episodes. 

She goes back to Mewni and sees that she doesn’t have cheek marks anymore. Moon, mewmens and Mina are reformed and no punishments were given.

With magic gone, her and her family just caused the multiverse that relies on magic, face chaos and they will collapse entirely. Although they prevented genocide of the monsters but ultimately cause genocide at a larger scale than Mina’s in the process like all of Star spells, people who are made out of magic and The Magic High Commsions are dead. 

Then two portals for each world exploded and both worlds collide. The writers made it out as if it’s a happy ending but it just causes panic between both worlds and racism towards monsters is now worse than ever but Starco can at least be together. 

Conclusion

I used to like Star vs The Forces of Evil and I thought it would’ve been great but like most shows that disappointed me such as Steven Universe, and Voltron, this show really frustrated me. If the show actually didn’t focus too much on the shipping or made it as a romantic show, it would've been great but they didn’t and the show suffers for that. It’s a dang shame that it has to that route. 

[waywardfangirl]

Write This Down

General Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply

Baz Pitch/Simon Snow | 3,305 words | Complete

Summary: Inspired by Write This Down by George Strait - Baz and Simon love each other, and they know it. But, Baz came close to losing Simon once, and he doesn't intend to let that ever happen again.

***A big thank you to @foolofabookwyrm​ for editing this for me literally the second I finished writing it! I love you!!!***

Baz

The first time I told Simon I loved him, tears were pouring down both of our faces and we were absolutely miserable. It was one of the worst days of my life, and I hated the fact that every nice thing Simon and I have, every special moment and milestone in our disaster of a relationship, is marred in some way by tragedy. We kissed for the first time in the middle of a burning forest when I was so deep in the throes of self-hatred I couldn’t find my way out without Simon to save me. Instead of the honeymoon phase that every other couple gets, Simon and I received death and destruction and trauma, and then hearings and interrogations before the Coven. When we tried to go on vacation, to take a break and do something to pull Simon out of the pit of depression he had spiraled into, we almost died multiple times. When I finally propose to him I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that dark creatures can’t find us, the weather can’t ruin us, and even our well-meaning but nosy friends can’t disturb us.

But I’m getting too far ahead of myself. I can’t start planning for a proposal just yet, because I’m still not sure that I won’t lose him one day. He told me he loved me with tears streaming down his cheeks, and then he tried to break up with me.

I had started crying around that time too; I wanted to be in control, I wanted to shut off my emotions so Simon wouldn’t be hurt by my own anguish, but instead traitorous tears came streaming down my face and I started babbling out every thought I’d ever had – please don’t leave me and I’m not happy without you and no no no don’t go, Simon, please don’t and eventually I love you, I love you too, I love you so much, there’s nothing for me if you aren’t here, I love you. So, no, it was not one of our better moments.

Once I finally convinced him that breaking up with me would, in fact, not help me at all, we agreed to put serious effort into working on our relationship. This has also meant that both Simon and I found ourselves going to (separate) therapists, and coming together once a month for couple’s counseling too. Put together, we’re utilizing three-quarters of the magical word’s mental health resources. (It’s helping.)

(Read the rest on AO3, or under the cut)

I don’t know exactly what Simon discusses with his own therapist (although I could probably make a few guesses), but my therapist has been encouraging me to work on my own anxieties as of late among other things. I haven’t been able to shake my fear that Simon might decide to leave again, and that crying amidst declarations of love won’t fix things this time. So, since I can’t control the actions of others, I can only control what I think and do myself (yes, thank you Amy, the once-weekly sessions are working and I now hear your voice in my head when I evaluate my own thoughts), I’ve decided on a course of action that will help both Simon and myself.

I start by stealing his phone. He only uses the notes app to write down things he wants to bring up in therapy, so I ignore all the existing memos and start a new one, just three words – I love you.

(The numpty never bothered setting a passcode, I should modify his phone more often. He needs a new lock screen.)

 Three days later, Simon emerges from his bedroom after his appointment, face blotchy and tear tracks drying on his cheeks. Every muscle in my body pulls to gather him up in my arms and give him shelter in the form of an embrace, but I know in moments like this I have to let him make the first move. Luckily, he walks straight over to where I’m putting the dishes away and immediately buries his face in my neck. His arms cinch around my waist, and I waste no time in pulling him closer to me, carding one hand through his curls.

“Alright, love?”

He nods, pressing in closer, then mumbles into my skin, “I love you.”

Ah. He found the note, then. Good.

“I love you too.”

*****

The next week, I walk into Simon and Penny’s apartment after classes, only to find Simon asleep on the couch. Netflix is playing some action movie on the tv, and Simon’s face is twitching slightly, still reacting to the sound even while fast asleep. I know he was up late last night preparing for a big presentation, so I let him rest. As I pull my laptop out of my bag to study at the kitchen table, I grab a sticky note as well, and attach it to the center of the television screen.

I love you

An hour later, I hear the tv shut off. Simon wanders into the kitchen, sitting down at the table and scooching his chair over until it’s pressed up next to mine. He kisses me on the cheek, and then on the mouth when I turn my head.

“Hi love, how was your day?”

“Good. Better now.”

*****

Finals are upon us, and of course the worst academic weeks of the year are also the time when Simon and I decide to try spending the night together again. (Just sleeping, but sharing each other’s space for that long, being there together when we wake up the next morning.) I feel like all of this should be so much easier, like other couples just make it look so effortless – we love each other, why can’t we show it? Why is it so hard to turn those emotions into actions and words? I don’t ever want to be beside anyone else, how can I prove that to him?

After the first few nights, it starts to feel normal. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the feeling of Snow’s arms wrapped around me, his muscles relaxing as we both fall asleep, but I don’t want to get used to it. I want it to be novel every single time, I always want to feel this in love with him.

Tonight, though, I can’t let myself lie down until I finish this last essay. I’ll edit it tomorrow, but I can’t stop writing until I’m done or I know I’ll lose momentum. Simon went to bed at least half an hour ago, and that’s all the incentive I need to keep my fingers flying across the keyboard; the sooner I’m done, the sooner I’ll be back beside him.

I close my laptop at half past midnight, and attempt to straighten the academic mess on the kitchen table before breakfast ruins a textbook tomorrow morning. Snow has left his books in a perilous heap, on the verge of teetering onto the floor, so I straighten the stack, then pick up the top book.

It’s a textbook, An Introduction to Social Services, because my brave and caring boyfriend wants to continue saving the world in any way he can. The first half of the book is filled with bookmarks and flags, highlighted passages and scribbled notes in the margins. He’s been attacking his studies with a vigor he’s never shown for academia before, and I’m so proud of him. I pick up a pen and add a note of my own under the practice review he’s flagged with tomorrow’s date (when did he get to be so organized? He’s wonderfully full of surprises even now) – You’re absolutely brilliant, love.

I leaf through the book to the next practice exam, this one flagged for three days from now. You’re the most caring man I’ve ever met, you were born for this work. The review in the middle of the book gets a simple (true) I’m so proud of you, and then I start leafing through the pages I assume Simon will be using next semester. I don’t let myself question the future, I don’t let uncertainty and anxiety creep in, I just write notes on random pages, to be discovered in the middle of lectures or homework or studying.

My darling

You’re the only sunshine I need

Have I told you lately how handsome you are?

I adore you

You’re my perfect other half, I’m so happy we match

Finally, I leave an index card mixed in with the ones he’s been using for review.

Q: How much do I love you?

A: More than I can possibly say.

*****

Simon Snow can still go off. He’s less physically destructive now, nothing in the flat gets burnt to a crisp and he doesn’t leave craters behind, but sometimes his emotions get stopped up until they come out in a flood of yelling and crying, and he erupts.

We’ve both been trying to be better about handling our outbursts, and trying not to take bad days out on the other, but sometimes it still happens. I don’t know exactly what happened today, but from what I can make out it seems like small things just piled up until I rolled my eyes when Simon suggested watching Star Wars, and that became the straw that broke the camel’s back. Old habits die hard, and we both still give as good as we get when fighting, so fifteen minutes later Penelope came home to find a screaming match in the living room and neither of us even aware of what we were saying or fighting over anymore.

She made us sit down and go through all the skills we’ve learned (use “I” statements, list your emotions, say what you admire about the other person – fine, thank you Amy, your voice is still in my head) until finally we had calmed down enough to be there for each other again.

I held Simon as he cried into my shirt, and we crawled into bed together still holding hands. We kissed before falling asleep and the last thing I remembered was Simon’s breath ghosting over me.

Now though, I’m awake, pulled from sleep and my boyfriend’s arms because I needed a glass of water, and I suddenly can’t stop reliving our argument. We’re fine, I know we are, we’re going to be okay. All couples fight, what matters is that we sat down and talked about it afterwards. We’re both sorry and we both love each other.

I can’t help the voice in the back of my head though, the voice that insists that Simon still thinks I don’t love him and that he might leave me again. I ignore it, then tell it how wrong it is, before finally giving in to my anxiety and tearing a blank piece of paper from the notepad on the fridge. I leave the note on his bedside table, so he’ll see it first thing in the morning, when he inevitably wakes up before I do.

Simon, my dearest, I love you so much. I promise, I love you, no matter what.

*****

“Baz! Did you get it?”

Simon Snow is bouncing on the soles of his feet like a toddler crossed with a golden retriever, and if anyone else were acting like this I would make a point of ignoring them, but because it’s Simon I just kiss him quickly and pull the book out from behind my back.

“Yes, love, I got it. Hot off the press, specially for you.”

Simon’s never been much of a reader, but after discovering ‘the best book in the world’, as he puts it, he’s been devouring this series. The newest one was released today, and I promised him I would pick it up from the bookstore on my way home. (I’ve read them too, and they are quite good, although Simon is definitely more enchanted with them than I am.)

“Can we start reading it right now?” He’s got it clutched to his chest like a child, and—no, that’s dangerous territory to enter, I can’t let myself start thinking of Simon with a baby or else I won’t leave this flat until I’ve proposed to him, and he deserves a nicer proposal than whatever happens to fall out of my mouth right now. Besides, I don’t even have the ring with me, it’s still hidden in my sock drawer back in Hampshire.

“Are you suggesting skipping dinner?” I hold up the bags of takeaway I’ve brought. He looks anguished.

“Can’t we do both?”

He’s a disaster. I love him.

“Alright you bottomless pit, you can eat your dinner and I’ll read to you, will that work?”

He kisses me again in response, a proper snog that’s only interrupted when Bunce wanders through to the kitchen, remarking loudly to Shepard, “They have their own room and everything, but they still insist on doing this sort of thing out here in the open.”

Simon good naturedly flips her off, and I pull away to smirk.

“He’s far too attractive for me to confine my affection to only one room in the house, Bunce. It’s not fair to expect me to restrain myself when my boyfriend is so criminally handsome.” I take Simon’s hand and tug him into the living room to settle against me as I start to read.

When all the food has been devoured and my voice is starting to lull Snow to sleep, I grab a scrap of paper, scribble I love you on it, and then insert it in the book to mark our place.

*****

Simon has been baking up a storm. He’s determined to figure out Cook Pritchard’s recipe for sour cherry scones, because she won’t give up the secret and he hates having to wait for Pitch family gatherings to eat them. He’s going through butter like a fiend, and all of our neighbors adore us because he keeps giving batches away.

When he leaves the kitchen to go retrieve something from his bedroom I slip a note into the fridge, to be discovered the next time he picks up the butter.

I love you

 Three days later, I find the note affixed to the freezer door.

*****

“It’s so empty!”

Simon’s voice bounces off of the walls, and it almost echoes. The house really is empty, at once both exciting and intimidating – this is ours, this is where we get to keep building our life together, this is where we’ll make more memories, this is where we’ll start our family.

“The rest of our furniture will be here tomorrow, love, the movers said they could have it in before nine.”

I hear running footfalls, and then Simon comes sliding down the hall in his socks, crashing into me and almost knocking me over.

“Maybe we should keep it like this, and we can use the first floor for sock races!” He’s laughing, and so happy, and I adore him.

“Mmm, perhaps not,” I say, pushing his curls back from his face. “As enchanting as that idea may be, I expect you’d be sad if Penny and Shepard stopped visiting us because they had no place to sit. And I’m sure you would miss having a dining room table, too.” I kiss him on his nose, because it always makes him laugh, and then I lean back, grab his hands, and spin him around in circles in our empty living room.

Once we’re both too dizzy to stay standing, we collapse on the floor together, struggling to swallow our giggles. Eventually, I pull Simon back up to standing, and nudge him to start unpacking what we can. Dishes go in the cupboards, and sheets go in the linen closet. One of the boxes I open has a hammer and nails, and Simon finds the box that we put our pictures in. Some have to be set aside until the furniture is arranged, but we hang a few in the kitchen and the entry hall. Right before we blow up the inflatable mattress and go to sleep for the first time in our new house, I lead Simon back into the living room and pull out one last photo to hang.

The picture itself is quite large, a candid shot taken during our engagement party. Simon was laughing at something I’d just said, and he’s as bright and radiant as ever. I’m gazing adoringly at him, looking every bit the lovesick fool I am. Penny and Shep are in the background, along with Fiona and the rest of my immediate family, and everyone looks so happy to be celebrating the two of us. It’s one of my favorites, enlarged to sit in a frame over the mantle, where everyone who enters our home will be sure to see it.

It’s a bit of a struggle to get it to hang straight, but eventually we manage it.

“That looks lovely. I didn’t even know you’d had that one framed, I like it.”

I kiss his neck, and wrap my arms around his waist, hooking my chin over his shoulder and holding my wand out in front of him.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

We watch together as three words start to curve around our bodies in the portrait, shiny gold cursive tethering us to each other and stating simply, I love you.

Simon leans back into me, turning his face up for a kiss. “I love you too,” he whispers when we pull apart, “Show-off.” Then he’s walking backwards down the hall, leading me towards the stairs, and going to break his neck if he tries to go up the stairs without first turning around. I’ll tell him tomorrow that the spell I cast will only show those words if they’re true and if I still mean them. (They’re going to be there forever.)

*****

We go ring shopping together. We want our wedding rings to match, and to also complement the engagement rings we gave each other, so we block off an entire Saturday to find the perfect bands. (It turns out that the perfect rings are hiding in a jewelry store just a few blocks from Simon and Penny’s first apartment, which I think has a lovely symmetry to it.)

The rings themselves are simple, gold bands that compliment both of our complexions with a delicate scattering of engraved stars barely visible on the surface. We know immediately that these are our rings, we hardly need to glance at each other to confirm it.

As we’re being sized and filling out all the necessary information, I hand over a folded slip of paper.

“I would like this to be engraved on the inside of his ring, please.”

Simon’s mouth falls open for a moment, then he reaches into his jeans pocket to pull out his own slip of paper.

“I’d like this engraved inside of his too, please,” he says, and I can’t help but loop my arm around his waist.

“I suppose great minds think alike, don’t they Snow?”

He wrinkles his nose.

“You’re going to have to start calling me Pitch before too much longer, you know.”

I wasn’t prepared for this argument, and I’m far too in love with him to have a satisfactory response ready.

“No I won’t. Pitch will be your last name, and Snow will become your middle name. You call me by my middle name already, so we’ll match,” I add, as a happy afterthought.

The jeweler chuckles.

“You really do. You want the same engraving and everything.”

I feel like he maybe should have understood that those messages were meant to be a surprise, given Snow’s obvious shock, and the folded pieces of paper, but I’m a little too happy to care. Our wedding rings are going to match, inscription and all.

I love you

[crazyclonefan]

A chance to say goodbye

I wrote this right after tcw 7 finale and completely forgot to post it. Oops. 

Very angsty. 

Summary: It took Kix a long time to get used to the idea that nothing he once knew existed anymore. He meets Ahsoka and she takes him to the snowy planet where Jesse died.

It took Kix a long time to get used to the idea that nothing he once knew existed anymore. That the Republic being replaced by the Empire. His brothers fought and died for three long years for nothing. They all became toys in the hands of the cruel Emperor. That the war ended with the destruction of the Jedi Order. That while he was sleeping, the Empire fell under the onslaught of the rebels and in its place the New Republic was born. And that fifty years have passed since the separatists kidnapped him.

Fifty years ... Kix felt completely devastated when he learned of this. Waking up from stasis, he hoped it wasn't too late to prevent a catastrophe. That he could prove to General Skywalker that Fives was right and that the Chancellor was really up to something terrible. But ... He was late. Hopelessly late. There was no more Republic to warn, and no more brothers he desperately wanted to save. The realization that he was the last clone tore his heart apart.

It hurt Kix to think of his brothers. But it was especially hard from the unknown. How did Jesse die? Did he obey Order 66 and become a stormtrooper, or did he die long before that? What happened to Rex? Did he decide to remove the chip, or did he obey the order and kill General Skywalker? What happened to Echo and the Bad Batch? A lot of questions were spinning in his head, but he had no answer to any of them. But the most painful thing was to realize that he could not say goodbye to any of them.

He was grateful to the pirates of the Crimson Corsair, even if they helped him out of selfish motives. The destruction of the old bases of the separatists helped him to feel like a soldier of the Grand Army of the Republic again. A republic that will no longer appreciate his efforts. But when was it different? But that was the only goal that helped him move on.

  What will happen when the last base is destroyed? Kix didn't want to think about it. Kix tried not to think about the future at all. Fifty years ago, life was much simpler and clearer. He was a soldier who took care of the health of his brothers and the general. He fought for peace and saved lives. Did he think about the future then? Of course yes. But in those dreams of the future, there were always brothers by his side, and he did not feel so painfully lonely. The future now seemed like something cold and hopeless.

***

Another planet where pirates wanted to sell their loot. Another cantina where Kix wanted to get drunk so as not to think about anything. And as always, he only felt worse.

"Kix?"

Kix froze at the familiar voice. He turned around and faced the surprised blue eyes. If their owner hadn't touched his shoulder, Kix wouldn't have believed it was true. He hadn't expected to see Ahsoka Tano alive.

Fifty years ago, Ahsoka Tano was a child. She was cocky, smiling and brave. He trusted her with his back more than he could count. Kix remembered her this way and mourned her death along with General Skywalker.

    The woman in front of him didn't look like that child. Her face was adorned with wrinkles, her montrals and lekku were much longer than before, and her eyes were full of sadness and surprise. If not for the familiar pattern on her face, he might not recognize her.

"Commander Tano?"

“It's so unusual to hear that title again,” a smile touched her lips. "Since Rex died, no one else has called me that. It happened two and a half years ago."

Something inside him broke. He was late again. If he had been found much earlier, he would have had the opportunity to spend time with the captain ... If only he could have prevented the disaster ...

He spoke and spoke, not paying attention to the flowing tears and the fact that people had already begun to look back at them. He didn't care about anyone but Ahsoka. It was as if he was still somewhere deep down hoping that the information that he learned could save at least someone. Maybe it was so. He didn't know how she survived Order 66, but he certainly didn't want her to believe that his brothers betrayed her of their own accord.

He could have saved everyone if he had been more careful in his investigation. He should have shared this information with Rex much earlier. He had to ... The only thing he could do now is to save at least the memory of them.

Ahsoka also had tears in her eyes as she hugged him tightly.

“I never blamed any of them. None of them wanted this, none of this was their conscious choice. The Emperor did everything so that none of us could stop it. By the time it started, nothing could be fixed. So please don't blame yourself. "

It was weak consolation, but Kix felt a little better. Perhaps at that moment, she used the Force to soothe his pain. Perhaps the reason was that she understood him much better than the pirates of the Crimson Corsair, who never knew his brothers. Ahsoka knew them all. Or perhaps he felt better from the realization that this information, even after fifty years, reached the ears of the Jedi.

When Ahsoka finally released him, Kix finally braced himself to ask the question that had tormented him for a long time.

"Did Rex tell you how ... how Jesse died?"

Ahsoka nodded, her eyes downcast.

"Follow me, I'll tell you along the way. It's a long story and I don't want anyone else to listen to us."

***

She spoke only when the ship went into hyperspace. Kix could see how hard it was for her to think about it, but it was what both of them needed. What he personally needed. All this time, while he was tormented by the unknown, Kix imagined all sorts of options for what could happen to Jesse and the others. But he did not suspect that what actually happened would be much worse.

She talked about the siege of Mandalore and what happened on the Republic cruiser when Darth Sidious ordered her to be executed. How Rex gave her a clue, how she removed his chip, and how Jesse fought them despite the ship falling apart.

It was unbearable to know that Jesse was a victim of the chip. Jesse would never point a blaster at Rex, whom he respected with all his heart. Kix remembered exactly how Tap had behaved when his chip crashed. And he was horrified by the very thought that Jesse was trapped in his own head, repeating just one phrase that controlled him like some droid. Good soldiers always follow orders. Even if this order was to kill your own brother ...

Jesse was a good soldier and a great friend. He had a great sense of humor and always gave good advice. He was a man! A human, not a meat droid. And he deserved the best. All his brothers deserved a better fate than what the emperor condemned them to.

Kix could feel his head spinning and his heart breaking in pain. It could have been different if only he had not been so weak then. If only he hadn't drawn Count Dooku's attention to himself ...

The old, shattered Venator lay on the planet's surface as a memorial to the fallen Republic and its loyal soldiers.

Time took its toll. Snow wrapped his brothers in a thick white blanket, allowing only a few of their helmets to look out. They looked at him indifferently with the darkness of their visors, forgotten and alone, like the entire era of the Jedi. Like the Republic they once fought for.

Ahsoka touched his shoulder and quietly returned to the ship, leaving him alone with his pain. Kix was grateful to her for that.

 Having dug up the snow a little, he saw what he was looking for. He lifted Jesse's helmet and ran his fingers over the nearly faded Republic symbol at its base. Jesse did his best to make this symbol visible once he became an ARC-trooper.

Kix could not help remembering how Jesse had been bragging to all the brothers for a whole week about his new armor and the fact that he was now an ARC-trooper. It was very funny for the first couple of days, and then Kix would just roll his eyes when Jesse started talking about it again. He was so proud to be promoted to lieutenant and become an ARC-trooper!

He was one of the most loyal soldiers of the Republic and took pride in his service. This is what this symbol was supposed to represent.

        Kix couldn't hold back his tears when he saw the burns and abrasions that the helmet received, probably after the ship fell. He didn’t want to think about what his friend was experiencing and what Jesse was thinking in his last minutes, and whether he could think about anything other than a damn order in general. Was he afraid of death at this moment? Did he die quickly, without feeling anything, or did he suffer before he died?

Jesse always did what he thought was right. This is why he agreed with Fives' plan on Umbara, which is why he did so many good things. He shouldn't have died like this, a limp puppet in the hands of the emperor, wanting to kill his own brother and Commander Tano.

Kix pressed his forehead against Jesse's helmet, finally being able to say goodbye to his best friend properly. With a friend whom he actually doomed to a terrible death. If only he could tell about the conspiracy before he was captured ... If only he was not so weak and captured by the droids ... If ... Jesse and Rex would not have to go through all of this. Their brothers would not have to die in vain. And Rex would not have been plagued by guilt all his life, burying all the brothers he ever loved.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, hoping desperately that Jesse would hear him on the other side. "Forgive me, brother."

    The last time they saw each other, Jesse was filled with hope for the future. They both dreamed of getting drunk in '79, once the war was over. How they will stick together and will definitely find something to do in a new peaceful life. Kicks wondered what Jesse was thinking when he suddenly disappeared without giving any reason.

"Sleep well, Jesse... I'll see you on the other side."

Kix forced himself to leave Jesse's helmet in the snow where his body rested. He did not find the strength to separate them. This place has been a monument to the Grand Army of the Republic for these long fifty years and should remain so in the future. Someday he, too, will be under this snow next to his brothers.

***

The way back to Felucia went in silence. Kix felt devastated. He was grateful to Ahsoka for not trying to convince him again that everything that happened was not his fault. Whatever she said, he could never forgive himself after what he saw today.

"What do you intend to do next?" She asked when the ship finally landed in port.

“I don’t know,” Kix replied honestly, wiping his eyes. “Back to the Crimson Corsair's team.

He must finish what he started. There were still two bases that he needed to destroy. In memory of Jesse and all those brothers who stayed on that snowy moon. In honor of all the clones that died decades ago. What will happen next? Who knows. He'll think about it later.

“If you are sure of this, then I have no right to stop you.” Ahsoka smiled at him. “But if you ever get tired of being a pirate, let me know. I know people who will welcome a skilled soldier. "

"I'll think about it," Kix found the strength to smile. - "But I have to finish what I started."

Ahsoka nodded in understanding and rubbed her chin thoughtfully, looking somewhere behind Kix. Merry sparks lit up in her eyes.

"Do you mind if I join you? Destroying Separatist bases sounds like an interesting idea."

“How can I refuse you, Commander?” Kix's smile was sincere this time. “Only one condition. Don't throw me with the Force like you used to do with Captain Rex. "

Ahsoka laughed.

"I will try to resist the temptation."

He saw before him the old Ahsoka Tano now. For some reason, his soul became a little calmer. For the first time in these long months, he could finally think about his future, and it no longer seemed so lonely.

  He knew he could not forgive himself or bring his brothers back. But he can still do something for them. He will live honoring their memory for as long as he can. Until one day meet them again.

[outshinethestars]

The Sky is Dark and Filled with Ink (from all the words that time forgot)  Hetalia fic

The air is dead, you think.

You take a breath, and it catches in your throat, stagnant, dull.  There is no brightness to this day, no freshness to the breeze.  The air is dead.

Or maybe it’s just you.

There are birds chirping outside your window, so you get up.  You get dressed.  The birds are still chirping.

“Hello birds!” you say, and you smile.  You make yourself smile and you make yourself call out cheerfully to the birds, even though the birds are the only ones who can hear.  Because it is a new day and you are Prussia, and you are still here.  You want to live, you do.

Maybe that’s the problem.

You are feeling nostalgic today, so you go to where your diaries are kept, in long long neat rows.

Your life looks so very long, lined with words.

You walk to the very end, find your very first diary, because you are feeling nostalgic.

The book you take from the shelf is not the one you wrote centuries ago, your sloppy, childish hand smearing ink across worn vellum, already overwritten almost to the point of unusability.  It is a copy of a copy of a copy, printed plainly on reasonably high quality modern paper.  You had most of your diaries printed, not so very long ago, in plain, unpersonable bindings.  You would have preferred to have copied them in your own hand, familiar, beautiful letters in solid black ink, your heart held between pages.  But there was so much that needed recopying, doing it by hand would be impractical.

You might not have enough time.

You could copy this first diary by memory, you have read these words so many times.  You read about healing and triumph and dreams of crusading, and you try to recapture a glimpse of it, that wide eyed innocence.

You were so very, very young once.

Your life is sketched out in ink, and you know much of it by heart, returning and returning to tell yourself the story of who you are, to remind yourself of triumphs.

Of course, you never wrote about the bad things.  There is so much you never wrote.

There is a theory, you heard once, that photographs are bad for memory.  Photos, in their two dimensional stillness, are lies, crystalized to immortality.   You remember the pictures, sharp and exact in a way memories never can be, and forget events, sounds, smells, worlds in all their complexity.  You create narratives around the photos in your albums, as the true knowledge of what was fades.

Your diaries contain all that you are.  There is so much lost between their pages.

You do not write your diary now.  You have not written it in years.  You have nothing to write.

No, you could write.  Your head is swarming with thoughts, more so than it has since you were small.

But your diary has always been about events, triumphs, not thoughts.  Your diaries you keep secret, yes, and they are full, in their way, of your hopes and dreams, they are the world seen through your eyes and that is a very private thing.  But your thoughts, your ponderings, your fears and theories, you keep safely locked inside your head.  You do not let them out into the harsh light of objective reality, to become things outside yourself that exist.  You keep them safe, hidden, to grow as you grow, to change as you change.

To be forgotten.

There are other things you could write.  You used to write in your diary sometimes, of all the things that happened around you, but that turned quickly into a diary that was all about Germany.  That is not what a diary is meant to be.

You could write.  It is not as though you have stopped living, stopped doing.  You could recount internet victories, or less than well thought out adventures with France and Spain.  It is not that such things are too small, too trivial.  You used to write about all the small things, once.  A century ago, half a century, you would have happily recounted the mild disaster of you and a very drunk France in Brussels.  But now it feels like too much effort.  You are so very, very tired these days.  Even your pen does not obey you sometimes.

Diaries are books you write for yourself for memory.

(And you know that a century from now you will not be here to read of lighthearted victories in the dark times.)

You close your diary and put it back on the shelf.  You have a coffee date with Hungary.  You are never late.

“How are you, Prussia?” Hungary asks, and there’s more weight to it than simple smalltalk, but you disregard that.  You give her one of your best smiles.

“I’m awesome!” you say, “How’s marital bliss?”

It’s an evasion, but she allows it.

“You know we haven’t been married for over a century,” she says, and you roll your eyes.

“How’s life in sin, then?” you say.  She laughs.

“Sexy,” she says, and you look appropriately disgusted.

Being with Hungary is something like home.  She has known you longer than anyone you know, known you since you were children, and she has always been good with people in a way you were always a little in awe of.  She sees straight through all of your facades, past all the parts of yourself you keep hidden, to the things even you never look at too closely.

And in return, you like to flatter yourself in thinking you understand her better than anyone else, are the first to be let in on her secrets, are the one for whom she has no need for disguises. You think, now, that that is not quite the truth these days.  Austria and Hungary have finally straightened out their relationship, so that they not only love each other, but also know each other, deeply and honestly in a way you cannot touch.  You find that you do not begrudge them this.

You say something that brushes at the edges of that effect, as your conversation wanders from personal lives in modern times to old battles and back again.

“What?”  Hungary says, “You don’t want Austria’s every moment to be torment and suffering?  Who are you, and what have you done with Prussia?”

And because it is Hungary, you could tell her that you no longer care so much for rivalry with Austria, that you are quite content to be, if not friends with him, then at least friendly adversaries, and that regardless of anything else, you want nothing more than her happiness.  Because it is Hungary, you could say all this without feeling as though you were flaying yourself open, to reveal your own beating heart to her.  Or at least, you would be willing to do so, and entrust her with your heart.  But because it is Hungary, she already knows, and you have no need to say it.

“Oh well,”  you say, “I guess I’ve mellowed in my old age.”

Hungary looks at you, and it does feel as if you are being flayed.  Hungary looks at you, and she bites her lip, and the expression in her eyes is grief.

And oh, that was the wrong thing to say, because there are still things you hide even from her, aren’t there.

Age is a strange thing, when it comes to Nations.  You live with Germany, who is still so young, at least in your eyes, that it hurts you, and you are friends with America and children on social media, and you spend your afternoons in the park with old people who are a tenth your age or less.  But you aren’t old, not really.  Hungary is older than you are, and so are France and Spain.  But then, they aren’t old yet, because they aren’t dying.

But perhaps even Hungary is not always brave, because she doesn’t pursue it, she does not ask, she hides all traces of her concern, sweeps her train of thought aside.

“Wouldn’t that be a miracle,” she says, and you grin, crooked and devilish (alive, for now).  

The conversation wanders on from there, but at the end of it, as you stand to leave, she holds your hand and says,  “You know that you can talk to me, right?”

“Of course,” you say, wondering what she thought you were doing for the past two hours.

“About anything, ” she insists, “And if you ever need me, please call.  I’ll be there.  I’ll make time, I promise.”

And you… You don’t cry, because you don’t cry.  Crying is not a thing that you do.

“Thank you,” you say, and your voice is small.

And then she hugs you.

You don’t know the last time someone hugged you.

Or well, you probably do, it was right before that thing in Brussels.  You don’t remember most of that night too well, but France is an emotional drunk, and you’re pretty sure that most of the fiasco that followed resulted from drunk-you’s attempt to escape emotional vulnerability.

In any case, this is the first time you’ve been hugged sober in a very long time.  And Hungary gives the best hugs.

Her strong arms wrap around you and she is warm and soft and kind in a way you have never known how to be.  Your ribs are pressed tight against her, and you know that she can feel every single one of them through your clothes, and for a moment you are certain that you will turn to dust right there in her arms.

“Thank you, really,” you say, when she releases you.  And she gives you a sad little smile that tells you that she knows you won’t take her up on it, but that she meant every word all the same.

When you are home, you take down your most recent diary, the one with three quarters of the pages still left blank, and write.  It hurts more than anything you have ever written, and not only because even your hands betray you these days.

“Dear Diary,” you write.

“Hungary hugged me today.  It was an awesome hug. We talked for hours, and I said everything and nothing at the same time, and I think she knows that I am dying, really dying now.  She held me tight enough, I think, that we could feel each other’s heartbeats, like she was trying to hold on to me forever.  I’m sorry.  There is so much that I never say.  I don’t want to die.

Germany, if you’re reading this, know that I love you so much.  There aren’t words for how much.  Tell all my friends I love them too."