#Years & Years Shine

[petpenname]

Heartache

pairing: Ellie Williams [brother's best friend] x fem reader c.w. : smoking summary: you have had your eyes on your brother's best friend and band member forever, but you'd never think she would actually talk to you? a/n: this was a submission + I'll make more parts if it gets a good response!

The air in your room hangs heavy with humidity. A slight breeze from your open window blows through, fluttering your various posters and decor hanging on your walls. And over you, sprawled across your bed, flipping through social media, you were honestly bored out of your mind. Three weeks into summer and your closest friend was away for vacation, leaving you alone… and bored.

Cycling through your socials again you get fed up with the lack of entertainment and toss your phone on the floor with an exacerbated sigh. You lay on your bed, wondering what you should do to fill the void of dopamine when the sound of music begins to fill the house. A mixture of rock, indie, and midwest emo songs rang out from your garage, conveniently positioned directly under your room. 

Your brother's band got around to practicing, you assumed. You didn’t even realize your brother was home, he had gone out earlier this morning after your parents left for work. The music got louder and you suddenly had an idea of what you wanted to do, and it wasn't staying here and listening to your brother's shitty garage band. You gather your sketchbook, some pens, headphones, and a few other things into a bag, throw on a hoodie and a pair of shoes and head downstairs. You were headed to a river spot in the woods near your house. It was a commonly frequented spot by you, and your friends but not known to many. Perfect for a little seclusion and wading in cool water. 

You walk down stairs and almost instantly are hit with the strong earthy smell of smoke. You linger for a second and decide that your trip would be improved with a joint, hoping your brother would front you something, you enter the loud garage. 

Your brother and his band mates, all two of them, were unaware of your entrance. They were playing as loud as possible (maybe not as well as possible) but they were producing sound! Your brother slamming away on the drums while the guitarist, and bassist/singer were in their own worlds. 

“Hey!” you yell over the trio.

“HEY KAI!” You shout once more at your brother. Who, without skipping a beat or stopping, yells back.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” 

This got the attention of the other two band members who did stop upon seeing you standing there, amps silencing to white noise feedback. 

“Can I get a joint?” you ask.

“You got money for a joint?” Kai laughs.

“Can you just front me one?” you reply back flatly

“Why should I?” 

“If you give me one I wont tell mom you were smoking in the house again.” You counter. 

“It’s the garage so technically not the house and whatever you know they wont do anything”

“She can have one of mine?” a voice sparks up behind Kai, drawing your attention to the guitarist. A girl named Ellie. She and Kai had been longtime friends and bandmates. You barely knew anything about her other than she was in Kai’s grade, one above yours, but you knew her. You knew her eye color, her favorite flannel she wore a little too often. You knew she got a new guitar last year, and a fresh tattoo this year that shined under the garage light as she held up a joint in your direction.  

You also knew that this was one of the only times she had ever spoken to you. Not like you were around each other often but you almost felt like she would try to avoid you when she was over. Shocked, but with adrenaline pumping you took your chance, walking over to Ellie. She still had her guitar hanging around her, flannel sleeves rolled up, her hair was a bit disheveled from playing, strands falling out of her half up hair do.

She hands you the joint with a sideways smile, and her eyes glint a bit.

“Thanks, you’re so much nicer than my brother” you scoff, giving her a smile back. You turn to leave, flipping off Kai as you bound out the door, leaving the band members commotion in the garage. Not seeing Kai chuck a drumstick at Ellie who dodges it with a laugh. 

The success of getting a joint over shined the butterflies fluttering in your stomach from that look she gave you. The sun hit your face as you got outside and you were only looking forward to your solo date in the forest.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting slowly, but from where you were in the woods shade had taken over your spot. You had smoked, worked on your art, and walked along the water looking for rocks. Hanging out in the forest for a few hours always rejuvenated you in a way you couldn’t explain. But you started to get cold and decided now was a good time to head home. While packing up you realized you had pretty bad cotton mouth from the joint, so you planned to stop by the corner store. 

It wasn’t a long walk but by the time you got to the corner store it was dusk. Street lights started sparking up like stars in the night sky. You opened the glass door and walked in, perusing the aisles for any snack or drink that could satiate your munchies. You were contemplating between an iced tea or a soda when the doorbell rang as someone walked in the store. You barely noticed the bell, or the girl walking up behind you until she spoke.

“Did you enjoy your smoke?” 

You jump, previously lost in your thoughts, you turn around to see Ellie standing there. She was wearing a hoodie now, her guitar in its case strapped to her back.

“Oh my god you scared me!” you say, almost dropping the bottles in your hands.

“Sorry! Didn't mean to!” Ellie laughs, moving around you to open the fridge door next to you and grab a coke. “Funny running into you here” she says, a little awkward you note.

“I mean my house is only a few blocks away,” you laugh. 

“Mm ya i guess so, you getting both of those?” Ellie looks down at the bottles in your hand.

“Oh um, I'm getting this one.” you hold up the iced tea & go to put back the soda. Before you could think Ellie takes the iced tea from your hand and starts walking towards the front of the store.

“Hey wait!” you look at her confused.

“Oh do you want something else princess?” Ellie turns back to look at you with a smirk.

Sparks ignite in your stomach, confused but now flustered, your mind swirling. You finally get a word out, “no, just that” and Ellie turns back to walk towards the cash register. 

You follow her, not really knowing what to do or how to act. Ellie and you had barely spoken to each other before this. And now she's acting so casually around you, and what did she call you? Everything happened so fast you barely caught it but reflecting back now, did she call you princess?

Ellie pays for the two drinks and you walk out together, taking your ice tea from her once outside. 

“Thank you, you didn't have to do that” you say, unscrewing the top and taking a refreshing sip.

“Don't mention it” Ellie says, “So are you going back home now?”

“Mhm yeah, what about you?”

“Yeah I was, but it's getting dark now, i’ll walk you back home first” Ellie says with a smile. 

“Who said chivalry was dead” you joke, it was a nice gesture, as much as you were confused by Ellie’s sudden intentions you couldn’t help but feel a type of way when she looked at you. Her green eyes danced over your face like she was memorizing your features. You wondered if she always looked at you this way?

She had. Ellie for the past few years had been keeping such a distance from you because when you were around she felt her whole body tense up. She felt like she was on fire if you looked in her direction. And god help her if she tried to speak around you, she ended up tripping over her words and losing her train of thought. Truthfully, she didn't know what magical queer fairy blessed her with the confidence to talk to you today. But she had taken in a chance earlier in the garage, and when she saw you in the store she knew it wasn't a coincidence. 

The walk back to your house was short, only a few blocks. You and Ellie joke together and talk about summer plans in the meantime. Both of you slightly high still, making your balance shifty, occasionally you would brush shoulders, sending sparks down each other's spines. 

When you get to your house you stop at the walk way, a little awkwardly since you knew Ellie had been in your house before. 

“Thanks for walking me home! And buying me this, um and the joint '' you say, taking in all of Ellie’s courtesy today, a little unsure what to do with yourself.

“Any time!” Ellie says with a smile, she fidgets where she stands for a second before reaching her hand up to your face. She tucks a small strand of hair behind your ear, without breaking eye contact.

“Have a good night y/n” and with that she turns around and walks away, putting up her hood. 

She left you solidified on the sidewalk, body unmoving but nerves on fire with a simple touch. You float for the next hour or so, barely registering going into your house and up to your room. Trying to make sense of what had just happened, and why now? And why so suddenly?

Later that night you receive a notification on Instagram

* @www.ellie followed you *

[bits-and-babs]

14 - Joel Miller. Joel begging is such a nice thought :)

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊-𝐘

pairings: Joel Miller x f!Reader

word count: 1k

warnings: very vague reference to suicide (character canon), use of a sex toy (m receiving), overstimulation, reference to spoilt orgasms, oral (m receiving).

summary: you punish Joel for going through your stuff.

joel masterlist | main masterlist | follower celebration | taglist

Creaking on its hinges as you push it open, the door to the entrance of your home is the only sound throughout the house as you enter. It’s oddly silent, differing from the months-long tradition of returning to the twang of gently plucked guitar strings floating downstairs.

“Joel?” You call, arching your brow as you kick off your snow-caked walking boots and leave them on the decking outside. It’s still freezing cold in Jackson; Joel always complaining about your freezing cold feet pressing against him as you cradle each other in an attempt to swindle more body heat.

No sound returns your call, and you begin to ascend the stairs quietly, your gun in hand. Multiple horrid scenarios flash through your mind. Had someone entered the house and attacked him? Had the grief for Sarah consumed him again, leading him to the gun storage locker in your shared bedroom?

Despite your dreadful assumptions, much to your relief, you find Joel sitting on the bed. His back faces you, and he’s hunched over something that has captured his undivided attention.

“Joel! You scared me!” You huff, releasing the handle of your gun and letting the weapon settle in its holster. Joel, however, nearly jumps out of his skin, attempting to shove something back into your bedside table subtly. You notice.

“Jesus-“ he scoffs, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly, “You’re home early!”

“What were you looking at?” You query, rounding the bed with a quizzical expression. Joel’s eyes seem to find everything but your own, the flush to his sun-bludgeoned cheeks telling you everything you need to know.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to go snooping?” You muse, enjoying the caught-red-handed flush to his face.

“Where did you find them?” He asks, avoiding your question and peering at the bedside cabinet once again.

“A shop in the city,” you hum, reaching into the drawer and picking out the vibrator he had no doubt been eyeing before you stumbled across his curious frisk of your bedside. “Couldn’t help but pick a few up.”

Pushing down on the button, you watch as Joel stares at the rumbling sex toy in your palm. His gaze flicks tentatively between the silicone and your expression.

“Now,” you pause, a smirk playing on your lips as you click the button again to amp the speed of the vibrations up, “What are we to do about your trespassing?”

✰

Joel Miller is a man who completely devotes himself to total control. He credited the twenty years of his survival to being in complete authority of every situation he found himself in, passing judgement as and when he saw fit.

Authority wasn’t something Joel was willing to surrender to just anyone— which is why you appreciate his absolute faith in you.

His fingers grasp onto the bed frame with a white-knuckle grip, glueing his palms to the wood as you had requested. He groans out loudly and tilts his head back, at the mercy of the vibrator that you trace up the frenulum of his twitching cock.

Cum drools from the ruddy head, dripping down onto his soft abdomen and shining beneath the golden light of the lampshade resting on the bedside cabinet.

“You’re making a mess,” you hum softly, pushing the juddering silicon toy against the head of his dick. Joel, despite the shattering overstimulation you’d subjected him to for the past hour, rocked his hips up against the vibrator with a haggard breath of despair. “I can clean it up with my tongue if you’d like?”

“Oh fuck,” he gasps, eyes rolling back when he tucks his face into the curve of his bicep in an attempt to conceal his embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, cupping his balls gently in your free palm. Joel’s body trembles at the simple touch, desperate to cum. “It’s okay, Joel.”

“Oh shi- Please!” He breaks down, choking on the words that spill from his lips, “Please, I need to- fuckin’, please let me cum!”

“That what you want?” You smile sweetly, watching his eyelids flutter as you press the button once again, the intensity of the vibrations at their peak as you rub the toy back and forth across the glossy tip of his cock.

“Yes!” He gasps loudly, jutting his hips up into the sensation as he chases the impending threat of his orgasm. It’s overwhelming him, rocking through his muscles yet failing to hit the summit. Joel slams his fist against the bed frame, spitting curses through his gritted teeth.

“Have you learnt your lesson not to go snooping through my things?” You smirk, watching as Joel’s abdomen flexes desperately against the building sensation of bliss.

“Darlin’!” He calls you desperately, begging you to give him what he needs.

“Or will you do this more often?” You ask despite his frustrated growl of your name. Studying his wet lashes and the flush of his face, you continue to tease him, “Digging through my things in the hope I punish you like this again?”

“Fuckin’- Please!” Joel surrenders himself to you wholly, begging in a cracked voice. “Baby, please, I can’t do this anymore- I need to- oh fuck, that’s it-!”

He practically stops breathing altogether when you slide the vibrator down the length of his twitching, swollen cock and take the head into your mouth. It doesn’t take much at all. One, two, three swirls of the tip of your tongue against the velvety skin, and Joel lets out the most anguished moan. He finishes in your mouth, cum pumping down your throat and coating your tongue as you swallow him down over and over, the spend leaking down your chin. The vibrator seems to keep it going and going, his body trembling with the sheer force of his ecstasy.

“Hoh- fuck-“ Joel gasps loudly, sucking oxygen into his lungs when he looks down at you. Even in his practically delirious state, he wipes the cum from your chin in an act of service, a feeble attempt to take control once again.

“You liked that more than you’re letting on,” you muse.

“No, I didn’t.”

Ellie’s right. He’s a shitty liar.

END

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[penvisions]

return the favor {chapter 23}

Pairing: Post-Outbreak! Joel Miller X Smuggler! Reader

Summary: You can only hope to catch up with Joel and Ellie before it's too late, the warning words of your cousins on your mind as you encounter a group of people at the campus yourself. Your trio is reunited in the worst of circumstances, altering the very perception Ellie has of the world.

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: minor character death, canon typical violence, canon typical language, cursing, insult, sexual content, non con, allusions to non con sexual advances, mentions of nausea but no vomiting, fighting, blood, reader gets injured, ellie gets injured, joel gets injured, guns, gun violence, creepy david gets his own warning, religious imagery, allusions to cannibalism, end of the world politics, end of the world rhetoric, allusions to pedophilia and grooming (bc of david), please let me know if i missed any!

A/N: well hello there, this was unexpected but procrastinating packing has led me here and who am i to argue? i hope this isn't too heavy of a chapter, but it sets up the remainder of the fic and we will see the end of it within 5-7 chapters. i've missed this little trio and their dynamic, even if it seems like i've wronged them in this latest installment

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You groaned out, your entire chest aching and sore. Sunlight too bright on your eyes and causing the throbbing in your head to amp up a notch. It felt like you had fallen or been thrown around. Entire body blooming with sensitive spots tender to pressure.

“Fuck.”

The ground was cold beneath you, hard and solid. Wind howled faintly but you had to be inside because you couldn’t feel it jostling your body. When you moved to push yourself up, your arms flexed against something tight around them. Blinking your eyes open, the only thing you could see was a barred fence and the brick wall behind it. There was a buzzing sound that seemed to consume the air around you, not helping the throbbing in your head.

You blinked a few times, coming back into your body and the buzzing sound suddenly shifted into a familiar voice.

“Bean, please wake up. You need to wake up, they’ll be back any minute.” It was Ellie, her voice a little raspy and her words far too fast to process as you shifted into a seated position. Your hands were bound around the wrists, rope tight and knotted around them. It wasn’t an official knot, but just a tangled mess of tied off twists that had been pulled on so much the fibers dug into your skin.

“What happened…?” Your head rolls on your shoulders, feeling out the kinks and knots in your muscles that would take years to work out. Fuck, you were getting old. But the clatter of something Ellie was doing had you up on your feet in a heartbeat, eyes wide and searching. She had been trying to use a bucket to get up into the window, to see out of it where it was high on the brick wall that backed up your separate cells. It had fallen with her weight on top of it, too much for how empty it was, the side of it dented in and she was standing beside it with a sheepish grimace.

“They attacked us, they hurt Joel. I-I-I tried to remember what you taught me about stitching but I couldn’t focus and they got cut one of our bags, the stuff you packed up fell out when I was trying to get us away.”

“Who…who attacked you?” You brought your tied hands up to your mouth and dug them into the rope, it tasted of dirt but you tried not to think of what else could be soaked into the fabric as you tore into it as best you could.

“Some guy named David, he found me when I was hunting. Joel needed something to eat, he’s not….Bean, he doesn’t look good.” You looked up through your hunched over position to see the shine of her eyes, the way she was trying to keep everything in check. But she was so young, kidnapped, stolen away from the one person who she had left in the world while you….while you had just gone off on your own.

Guilt flared and burned hot in your body, making you feel shameful and like you had caused all of this to happen. She seemed to sense it.

“They would’ve attacked either way, back at the school campus. They had been looking for people, they go there a lot, at least that’s what it seemed like.”

“You said you had to stitch him up, how bad was it? All I saw was a bat on broken in half.”

“You were there?”

“I was tracing your last known steps, I- I ran into my family and they told me they had been here but that it wasn’t…it wasn’t what it was promised to be. I’ll explain later. Ellie, tell me that they haven’t touched you, please.”

“No one’s…touched me, well they did when they tried to corner me and when they carried me here. But that David guy gives me the creeps.”

The way she was speaking, you weren’t sure she was understanding what you were saying. Which was both comforting that it was such an unfathomable thought in her mind, no real weight to the phrase of the words. But it was also damning in the way she really had no idea what you were talking about, her innocence and gullibility on the matter something you thought telling of her age and life thus far. But she had to know, she needed to be aware of the way people would take everything from one another, even if it would be a hard conversation to have, a hard pane of glass to shatter in her perception of the world she was now in the midst of outside the QZ walls.

“Don’t let him get you alone, you hear me? Do not let him touch you. He is a bad, terrible man. He’s a fucking-“

Ellie said your real name, the one printed neatly on your old license she had been so fascinated with.

“I think Joel is dying. I…I tried to trade with David, for some medicine, but when his guy came back with it they cornered me and said they were looking for the man who killed someone from their group back on the campus, that he had been traveling with a girl. They knew it was me, that it was us. He’s…Joel… he’s- he won’t wake up. I tried to do it how your showed me and I didn’t know where to put the medicine but I tried, he…he hasn’t woken up yet.”

“You’re okay, Ellie, I promise. You did,” You walk up to the fence separating you from each other, sticking your fingers through the gaps to get her to grasp as your hands. You were thankful she wasn’t tied up as you were but it also made your heart weary because it meant that this David was still trying to keep her guard down. “Everything you could. That medicine, even if it was put in the wrong spot, is what saved his life, he’s not waking up because it’s strong, it was penicillin, yeah?”

“Y-yeah. I think that’s what they called it.”

“That’s perfect, Ellie. That’s exactly what he needed. It’s a strong one, it’s in his system and he’s going to be okay. You stitched him up, you can lord that over him if you want once he’s better. Everything is going…everything it going to be okay.”

You could tell she wasn’t completely believing of your words but she was taking them, her furrowed brow relaxed just a bit and her fingers tangled with your own. She rested her forehead, swollen with a gash across the left side against the fence and you mimicked her.

“I was so scared.” She admitted on a quiet breath.

“I know, baby, but it’s okay. You did it, you got through the scary moment. Now all that’s left is to get out of here and back to Joel. He’s hidden somewhere, yeah? You made sure he was safe and inside somewhere?”

“Yeah, yes, he’s,” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know how far it is, but he’s in a house, I dragged him to the basement and made sure he had all the sleeping bags and blankets on him, he…he looked so helpless. Bean, he looked-“

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I promise you, it’s all gonna be okay. He’s strong, he can-“

“He’s so stupid! You both are! None of this would have happened if you two hadn’t fought and just- we would’ve been together and those guys wouldn’t have gotten us if you two had fought them off!”

“I know, baby, I’m sorry. We- we didn’t, we…needed some space. Joel, he-“

“He’s a fucking baby! He’s…he’s dying and he…he won’t even get to see you one last time.”

“Hey!” You couldn’t help the sharp tone nor the volume of your shout. “Ellie, you look at me and you listen.”

She does, her eyes wide and shining as she takes in the sight of you tied up and confined just like she is.

The situation is anything but ideal, it’s heartbreaking and too heavy on your shoulders. But at least you were with her now, she had help now. She wasn’t alone.

“Joel is not going to die. You got him the medicine he needed. It takes time. You and I are going to get out of this situation, we will. And then we will find him. We are going to be okay, it was a lesson that needed to be learned and it will stick. You need to understand that things happen for a reason. This is one of those times and no one is at fault.”

She nods, once and then again before she’s moving about her enclosure and explaining to you the ways she’s tried to find weaknesses in it. No screws were loose, no bars were rusted or weak. The window was too high, the fence too strong. You’re watching her as you tear at the rope once again with your teeth, the sound of it tearing quiet and rattling through you each time a thread snapped.

Ellie’s body is suddenly flying to the chain link barrier that separates you, her breathing harsh.

“Ear.”

“Ear?”

“On the floor, by the drain.”

“What- oh.” You feel your stomach lurch when you spot it, the cut off cartilage laying beside a drain surrounded by thick drops of dried blood.

“They-“

“They’re monsters.”

The door was opening before you could say anything else. The evidence of how these people lived, of how David provided for his people telling you how depraved and desperate they were. How he chose to feed his people when there was ample woods and forest to hunt in just beyond the cluster of buildings they reside in, the houses only a short trek nearby they could scavenge in.

He wasn’t what you pictured, but he was exuding predatory energy as he approached the chain link fencing of the enclosure. Rather thin and with waning fair hair, he knelt down to slide a tray adorned with a bowl of something far too bright red, a spoon, and a mug of water. You sincerely hope Ellie hadn’t taken anything offered to her, not putting it past the man to drug her. But she remains as close to you as she can get, hand reaching for yours through the fence.

“I don’t have enough for you both. But I assume you wouldn’t care for anything I offered.” David aims at you, eyes trained on the way Ellie is clinging to you as best she can. How she’s still as a statue and her own eyes are trained on the food given to her.

You don’t say anything, unsure of what you would even if your voice came back to you. The rope still wrapped but no longer knotted around your wrists allows you to feel powerful if only a little.

Ellie looks from the food finally, toward the ear and David follows her gaze as he remains kneeled on the ground. He seems almost remorseful at the discovery you two had made in his absence and you wonder if his people knew the truth about the food they were consuming. A part of you hoped they had no clue, even if it meant David felt no fear or shame about manipulating those who willingly followed him to the very edge of humanity.

“For what it’s worth, this is just deer meat. I swear.” He tries to hide his monstrosity, to no avail. You wouldn’t believe him even if you didn’t know him, even if you were starving.

“You’re going to chop me up into little pieces. Both of us.”

“I’d rather not,” He keeps her gaze, not even bothering to acknowledge your presence in the face of Ellie’s fear. He’s feeding off it, reveling in the way she’s speaking willingly for what you believe the first time since he turned on her in the woods and she ran from him. “Please, just tell me your name.”

“If you wanna judge me-“

“Judge you?” She’s shouting, her voice harsh as she lets go of your hand and storms up to the door of her enclosure, far too close to the man for your comfort. But she kicks at the tray, sending it flying across the floor and knocking into the large butchers block atop a storage table cemented into the ground, the too red meat splashes color onto the dull tile. “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”

David is surging up, though every move he’s making is calculated. He doesn’t look shocked or surprised, not taken aback by the words or actions of Ellie as she turns her back on him and corners herself as far away from the door as possible.

“Yes. There are only a few of us that know.” “But I would’ve told you.”

He’s watching you now, just past her. Calculating as he takes in the way your body is practically shaking as instincts warn you to get as far away from this man and this place as possible.

“I would’ve told you and your mother. Sooner or later. I guess sooner, to help tide you into our group.”

“You’re an animal.”

“Well, yes, we all are. That’s sorta the point.” David agrees, not wanting to dispute her, trying to earn her favor by being frank.

“It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do?”

“I would not let these people starve. These people who put their lives in my hands, who e-expect me to keep them safe, who love me?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Ellie replies quickly, her emotions beginning to get the better of her. But you meet the man’s gaze and sneer opening at him.

“There are woods just beyond here, houses and neighborhoods to scavenge. You have men, could they not provide in a better way? No, I suppose not, because you’re weak. Helpless in the face of the world, of the way things are. You’d rather tear people down and prey on them instead of think critically, you’re nothing but a weak leader, guiding your people to their death.”

“Starvation would’ve only set in sooner if I were to concentrate efforts on such fruitless endeavors. I don’t think you believe it would’ve been better. I don’t think your friend would either.” He’s moving, mirroring Ellie’s pacing as he looks down at the food she’s wasted. “Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”

“He was defending himself.”

“He was defending you.” He meets her steps as she stops, standing right in front of her with nothing but the bars and air separating them, and you feel every muscle in your body tense. “But you knew that.”

“You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you? Me.” His smile is small but he truly believes the words he’s spouting, the intent behind them clear. He means to take her under his wing, to mold her into a reflection of himself. Manipulate her into an image of his likeness. “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, you’re smart…loyal.”

“Violent.” He concludes, seeing the was she’s trembling with emotion.  

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“But I do. If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. And you wouldn’t look to the woman behind you, you would do it without a thought. You have a violent heart. And I should know.” He stalks closer, his steps quiet and measured. “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time.”

Your blood runs cold, the words flowing from the man chilling your very soul. He was depraved, he was sick as he tried to appeal to Ellie, to connect with her. His words revealing in more ways than he realized, than Ellie was able to read. You were sure she had no clue what he was doing, not exactly. Not aware of the way he was seeking her out and it made your heart ache even more so as you watched it happen in real time, the dance he orchestrates to get those he’s interested in to see him, to hear him. To fall in line and dance with him.

“But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”

“Right…by God.” Ellie dubiously connects the dots of the man’s speech. But he’s not making much sense to her, you can tell. The message is loud and clear to you. He’s been inspired, taken the world as it fell and turned it into his own playground of sorts. You’ve encountered men like him before, set to play God and manipulate the conditions around them to their favor. The shepherd to lead sheep blindly as they need something to cling to. Something to believe in. But he’s a false prophet, one that is selfish and wasteful, no skills of his own to fall on so he uses those around him to his advantage, to propel himself into the next day, time and time again.

“No. By cordyceps.” He sounds reverent, praising and preaching the very thing that eradicated humanity in droves. Sounding so much like those that used to deliver sermons and dictate what sins the people before him had committed, promising them salvation when he was the one to damn them in the first place with perceived power he did not truly possess. “What does cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you can handle it. The way the others can’t.” He stalks even closer. More measured steps, as calculated at his words. “They need God. They need heaven. They need…they need a father. You don’t.”

The room is silent, his focus not leaving her even as you shift on your aching feet.

“You don’t. You’re beyond that.” He repeats, appealing to her. Admonishing her with praise and tenacity for being ‘better’ than those he believes he needs to look out for and is responsible for. “I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”

“What about my friend?” Ellie demands, Joel on her mind as the man in front of her displays the complete opposite of everything he stands for. It makes her wish for him to be here, to be better, to beat the threat into submission as it closes in on her. But he’s not here, it’s just her and him. You are too trapped to help in your own cell.

“Like I said, loyal. I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”

“Really? They’ll just let him go?” She’s matching his steps now and your stomach plummets.

“Yes. If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go. The woman behind you too, should she leave peacefully as well. They do what I tell them to do. They follow me.”

“And they would follow us. Lord knows I could use the help. I- Look what’s happened.” He reaches out and places a hand on the bars of the door, causing you to step forward as far as you can into the fence that separates you from Ellie. The target the man has set his sights on. “Think of what we could do together, as strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”

Ellie’s reaching to touch a hand of her own to his and you feel something in you snap, you didn’t know what she was thinking, what she was doing and it was heartbreaking to see her move toward the man manipulating her. Playing her, dancing so eloquently around her and ensnaring her in his orbit. If only she would fucking look back at you over her shoulder. His hand moves to rest over hers and you feel the cold touch of his fingers as if he had touched you instead of her. The chilling skin of someone who had done this before, who was doing it again. Heeding the example of the very thing that had ruined the world as if it was something to admire. “Imagine the life we could give them. Imagine the life we could build.”

“Oh.” Her voice is so small, so quiet. And you feel acid bubble and rise to your throat as she brings her other hand to rest over his, cradling his hand almost.

And then her shoulders tense and she’s snapping his fingers, the loud cracking of bone filling the air as the man wails out, crumbles at the assault.

Ellie makes a grab for the keys hanging from his belt, but he snatches the front of her sweater and pulls her harshly into the bars. Her head collides with one and she’s reeling back before he has the chance to tighten his grip on her again, tearing out of it.

“You little cunt.” He swears, cradling his wounded hand tight to his chest. Anger colors him, shakes him to his core as he realizes the task he set for himself won’t be as easy as he anticipated. “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”

“Ellie.”

“What?” Turning, he seems taken aback by the quiet admittance from the young girl. As if he isn’t quite sure he heard her correctly or he could believe that she chose now of all times to answer his questions.

“Tell them that Ellie is the little girl- who broke your fucking finger!” She shouts so loudly that she shakes with it, the words nearly growled out.

“How did you put it? Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces’?” He taunts, though you can see the fear shift into a twisted sense of admiration. Frustration at being bested turning into confidence in her skills and the desire to best her glimmering in his eye before he turns away completely.

As soon as the door slams behind him and the lock clicks, she’s rushing across her enclosed space and reaching for you. She’s hiccupping and coughing as blood drips down her nose and busted lip, smearing it all over your own sweater as you try to hold her to you as best you could through the divide.

The door opens once again, some time later but it’s not David that enters. It’s two men with a third behind them. The lock of your cell clicks loudly as they open in and step inside, two of them while the third remains by the door.

The two men who were approaching you with a needle had you standing so fast your knees cracked. In her own cage, Ellie flew up to stand from her own crouch as close as she could get to you. She watched as you stood as straight at you could, to make yourself look as tall as possible and she mirrored it. The two men worked together to lock the slim opening behind them, keys going into a front pocket. There was rope in one of their hands, the other with the needle.

“We got you cornered, don’t know why David was insistent on locking you up, you’re no bigger than the girl. Look about as frail as her too.”

“Pretty little thing, aren’t ya? Wouldn’t mind giving you the promise of safety here if it meant-“

“Enough, do not taunt her. She’s liable to be just as violent as the man.”

David appeared in the doorway of the space, watching with a newly bandaged hand. You couldn’t help the feeling of pride that swelled in your middle at that. Ellie had done good, even if it had been hard to watch. Hard to watch and hear as he propositioned her. You had been in too much pain to do much about it, but it had allowed you to see what he was truly wanting with the young girl you considered family. The same he had wanted from your younger cousin. He was a sick, twisted man. Vile in the worst way one could be.

“You think I’m trapped in here with you?” You clicked your tongue at them, bringing your arms up to fend them off should they take one step closer to you, revealing that you had gotten out of your bindings. Your smile was wicked as you stared at them both, daring them to close the gap. “You’re trapped in here with me.”

You tried to focus on the man helping David drag the young girl from her own cage and the two coming at you, but it was all chaos. Loud, screaming, threatening and chilling chaos. They lunged at you, throwing the blanket they had in their grip over you and then you found yourself being hauled up by your thrashing hands and feet, each man holding tight to your body as they carried you out of the room.

As you’re being carried out, you hear another man and David’s voice speaking. Ellie is furious, her rage and desperation coming into play as you disappear and she’s left along with the man whose set his intentions on her. You try to scream, to tell her to run, to hurt, to kill and David’s laugh is the last thing you hear before gravity shifts and you’re in a new room separate from them.

There was a table, and a few chairs, that much was all you knew as your back was slammed onto a hard surface. The feeling of your pants being tugged at striking a primal fear deep inside your chest. It’s useless, your hands are bound once again between two larger ones, and the blanket over your form prohibits you from fighting back as well as you want to. The knife that you feel cutting at the fabric of your jeans tearing into your skin around your thighs and you try to scream and snarl as you rock yourself back and forth between the two men. You manage to kick the one with the knife at the end of the table and you head him land hard on the ground, the blade clattering to the floor.

Surging up, you spin and kick at the other man, tearing the blanket from over your head and diving off the table to grab at the fallen weapon. It’s your machete and you smile, tasting blood from the scuffle as you take in the small room you had been dragged to. The man you kicked had fallen harshly enough to open the back of his head and he lay motionless on the ground, a chair thrown from his body careening through the air.

The second man is reaching for you, grabbing at your hair and pulling you to him. The needle that had been in his grip in the other room plunges into your arm and a scream bubbles up. The blade in your hand is cutting you lose, thick strands of your hair flying up into the air as you fall to the ground from the force of being freed. He’s hissing, the blade having caught along his fingers. You try to get back up on your feet just in time to see him reaching for something hidden in the waistband of his pants

You’re lunging at him with the blade gripped tight in your hand. His stomach bleeds where you cut him and he moves his hands over the seeping wound with a strangled sound of protest. Its deep, his widened eyes meeting yours just before he collapses.

Rushing, you stormed into the room you had been taken from to see Ellie grabbing hold of a knife and slashing the man who had taken a step back from where she was laid out on a table much like you had been. Thankfully all of her clothes were in place and she seemed relatively unharmed. Blood sprayed into the air and David seemed to be shocked by her violence, stunned into silence for a moment long enough to allow the young girl to scramble off the butcher’s block and through the door.

David doesn’t even glance at you as he chases after her, the door locking behind him as your body slams into it. He smiles something vile and sickly sweet before he’s off after her, disappearing from view.

A few moments later, the smell of smoke and fire waft down the hall. Your efforts intensify, the need to find Ellie consuming you. Your mind focused on her and only her even as the skin of your thighs sting and bleed. The hair that had fallen loose tangles and swings with your efforts to break the door down, the wood of it getting too hot to slam your fists into or jostle the doorknob. Huffing a breath, you look around the room but there’s nothing to use to knock it loose.

As carefully as you can, you grip the top of the handle of the machete and slam the butt of it down on the doorknob. Once and then again, the splintering of wood loud even as the crackling of flames becomes obvious as the door pops open. It’s all smoke and darkness as you shuffle through the room in the crouch. The sound of flames licking at the support beams of thick wood loud, the taste and smell of smoke tickling your lungs when you finally see a figure downed on the ground.

Heart beating harshly, you approach it with your weapon held in front, but it’s not Ellie needing to be saved. It’s David. And he’s dead. His face bloody and broke, his body limp and immobile.

Ellie is no where to be seen and the room’s heat tries to take you for a second victim.

You collided with something hard and solid as you tear out of the building, the force of it knocking you down to the ground. The impact of your body sending snow flying up, blood smearing the ground in a bright display. You shouted as you fell, terror being the only thing that could be heard in your wordless exclamation. You spun from your side quickly, neck hurting from moving so fast, only to see two more men around you, just as shocked where they had been knocked down at the impact. They didn’t have any weapons but that didn’t matter. Everyone and anyone in this whole god damn place was a threat.

A stab of worry has you gasping for air as you quickly righted yourself, hoping Ellie had gotten out of here without running into anyone else. You had no idea what had happened between the time she had escaped and you had managed to do the same. The building you had burst from was crackling behind you, flames rising high despite the freezing temperatures. But the mangled body of David was the only clue as to what had happened. You spotted a third figure approaching in the distance, though it was moving fairly slowly toward you.

With a loud shriek you lunged at the man still on the ground, the other struggling to right himself where he had fallen over his own feet. The machete in your grip came to catch the man before you across his front, his shouts and pleas falling on deaf ears as you could feel your whole-body struggle against the drugs still pumping through your veins, your mind focused on one thing: survival. The squelching sound of you cutting into his throat had the other man struggling to get on his feet stumble in shock at the brutality.

“What the fuck!” His shout was loud, his eyes wide as he watched you murder his companion. All they had done was come out see what the roaring of the fire had been, you had flown from the building as they talked over what could’ve happened.

You round on him, eyes wild as he just shouted at you, trying to get away from you as quickly as he could. The snow was falling so heavily, the denseness of it already built up on the ground tripping him up on his injured ankles. He turned back to look at you over his shoulder, freezing as he saw the figure closing in behind you. You turn slightly as well to see how much distance there was between you and both men. You sprinted forward toward the one trying to get away, him being the closer of the two. He shouts as he throws his entire body to run into you, knocking over your smaller frame, hands scrabbling for the blade in your hands. It was knocked away as your back hit the ground, the man falling over you. He righted himself, legs on either side of you and your mind went white in rage.

“Not again!” You shriek, bringing your knees up to knock into him, kicking with all your might. Your hands grappling for a grip on his arms, you managed to land a few hits and used his moment of stillness to push up. You slammed his back on the ground hard as you flipped over, the pain immobilizing him just enough for you to do so. You realized you were screaming as your clenched fists landed hit after hit to his face, his neck, his chest. Blood was flying off your knuckles to splatter in the snow, on your face, your hands covered in the thick red liquid. You were sure it was just another layer to the grime and dried blood that had already covered your entire body and form. When the man went still below you, you crawled to where the machete had fallen in the scuffle. You brought it up to cover your front as you turned on your back, the figure too close for you to risk scrambling back up. Your chest heaving, your clothes were ripped, you were covered in blood and your eyes were wild as they connected with a pair of brown ones above you.

The figure pauses, hands coming up in front of them, but you weren’t taking anymore chances. The figure didn’t make another move toward you, but you weren’t seeing anything other than a threat. Your mind blurring the figure in front of you into every man that had every tried to touch you, into every man that had. You got your feet up under you and pushed yourself to stand, machete coming up and swiping as you try to put more distance between you and the tall figure. They hiss as the sharp edge of the blade catches one of their raised forearms.

“You’re not gonna fuckin’ touch me!” You holler, voice hoarse and so unlike your own. It’s tone low, it was terrifying, it was a touch desperate, and it was exactly how you were afraid of being heard. But it was harsh, tone hard and serious. You couldn’t stop the words from tearing through your throat, nearly growled out. “Your fuckin’ friends are dead and I’ll kill you too!”

You sway on your feet, the drugs in your system still fighting to overpower you. Your hair wild and loose, the choppy strands evidence of where you had cut it to try and free yourself earlier. The move had only saved you minutes of agony, years of growth erased in one swift motion. Your shoulders ached as you kept the blade up between you and the figure. They hadn’t moved, hands still held up in front of them and that’s when you realized they were talking to you. That you were still making guttural sounds deep in your raw throat. Warnings aimed at them to not get closer to you, that you would kill them just as swiftly as you had the others who opposed your escape. The hesitant voice cutting through the haze of your mind. Your eyes focused, the figure coming into view. It was Joel. But it had registered a second too late, you had already lunged at them, blade swinging.

He grunts as the blade makes contact with his shoulder. You had tried to stop the momentum, but you had swung so hard that between him not moving to save himself and you realizing it was him too late, the blade still cut into him. It wasn’t deadly, as it would’ve been, but it wasn’t a shallow hit either. He’s missing his jacket, the remaining layers of his clothes took most of the damage, but he would need stitches. The blade is still gripped tight in your hands, but it was lowered now, shaking. He looks from the new wound to you, his hands wanting to grasp at it but not doing so out of fear of triggering another swing. His eyes are pleading, he’s desperate for you to see that it’s him, not someone who was trying to harm you

“It’s me, it’s Joel.” He didn’t dare say you were okay. He knows you aren’t. He knows Ellie wasn’t from the way she had been screaming much the same way when he had found her. Her fear had been heartbreaking, it had hurt beyond words to see her, to hear the sheer terror in her voice as she had hit and fought against him before she realized who he was. Yours was shattering, you were covered in more blood, and from the looks of it a lot of it was yours. Not the way he envisioned seeing you again after going about your separate ways. His eyes lingered on the rips in your pants, blood coating your thighs underneath.

“J-Joel?” You repeated, as if it was a foreign name, as if he wasn’t real. He hadn’t been, during the entire ordeal. Ellie telling you what had happened, the way she had tried to help him, you had compartmentalized his death already. Knowing the odds of fighting off a wound like that, dirty stitches made with a rusted needle, infection quick to set in even in far better circumstances. It had been logical, the only outcome for such a medical condition in this time with no aid, no sterile environment.

You were still heaving, trying to regain your breath, the drugs in your system making it hard to do so. You swayed again but didn’t release your tight grip on your weapon, on your salvation. You startled so badly you swung out as the building on fire lost part of its roof to a cave in. Joel stepped back quickly at the motion, not wanting another harsh cut. That machete was dangerous on its own, but in your hands, it was an extension of yourself, lethal, not to be taken lightly.

“Joel?” Your voice sounded clearer, the height of your emotions calming slightly. You shook your head, not believing it, your emotions and the drugs blurring your vision of the only man you trusted.

“It’s me, I promise.” He dared to step toward you, reaching out to you slowly. You seemed to be frozen, eyes fixated on him. He was squarely in front of you now, his hands coming out to grasp over yours on the handle of the machete. He gently pried it from you, you still beneath him. The second it was out of your hands, he moved to place it in his bag, sealing it away. When he turned back to face you, you threw yourself at him, burying your face in his chest. He could feel your body convulse with harsh sobs, the sounds of you trying to suck in oxygen hiccupped by shuddering cries. Your fingers were digging into his arms so tightly that it hurt but he didn’t dare say anything, he just slowly brought his arms around your back.

“We need to move before the rest of the town comes out.” He spoke lowly, not wanting to spook you into throwing punches. He had seen you pummel that man’s face to nothing, and it scared him you could do the same to him in a blind panic. You just nodded, not moving, body shivering against him as he tried to console you. He didn’t think he would ever be able to, not with this, not with what his brain was telling him had happened here in this nightmare of a town. He tried to take a step, but you didn’t budge, hands tightening on him. “Darlin’, we gotta move.”

“I can’t f-feel my legs. They drugged me and I think it’s kicking in.” You looked up at him, eyes shiny with tears. You looked so defeated and he was scared you were going to look like that for the rest of your life. He couldn’t see any part of the woman you were before this in your face, in your eyes. He hadn’t seen any of who Ellie had been before either and his heart hurt in his chest. He pulled away from you and moved to scoop you up bridal style, but you weakly pushed at him. “No, you’re gonna hurt yourself, p-pull your stitches.”

You shift on your feet, leaning heavily into his left side.

“I got Ellie safe in the brush, I didn’t want to leave her, but she said they still had you locked up.” He didn’t dare say locked up in a cage, the feeling of those words settling heavily in him. They had locked you and Ellie up like animals, like things to be used at their convenience. The fire spread to the surrounding buildings, the freezing air offering no relief for the town. “She told me to save you, that they-“

“They’re dead.” The parody of a conversation from long ago in the darkness of a small forest clearing not lost on either of you.

“I know, darlin’. But we gotta go. Now.” He watches as splotches of color began to pepper the snow, people emerging from the buildings. People he didn’t have the energy to kill now that he had you in his arms and Ellie was waiting for them to retrieve her. As you hastily distanced yourself from the burning town, you felt Joel lean into you as much as you were leaning into him. Two broken and beaten people trying to offer whatever solace as you retrieved Ellie. She was smothered between you both, shielding her from the world as you moved further, further, further away. The snow was blinding as it whipped around your little trio but you didn’t look back. None of you did.

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[jennay]

Under The Stars

Request: hi! could i possibly request a best friends to lovers one shot with noah - sort of like, both of them were too scared to say how they felt? i was thinking the reader has been friends with noah and ruffilo since they were teenagers and she now works with the band as a guitar tech or something :') thank you!

Master List

An: I changed the setting where the confessions happen. I hope you love it. It's mushy!

If you want to be tagged in future Noah things let me know 🖤

If you have any requests feel free to send them!

You relaxed in the back of your 'new' truck, a battered old pickup your dad had given you as a hand-me-down. The metal was scratched and dented, and the paint was peeling off in places, but you loved it anyway. Noah and Nick, your two best friends, lay beside you on the soft blankets you had spread over the truck bed.

You felt their warmth and comfort as you gazed at the sky, watching the stars sparkle and fade. The night air was cool and crisp, and you heard the crickets chirping in the distance. You adored nights like this when their company made your teenage years more bearable.

"Look!" Noah exclaimed, pointing to the sky. "Shooting star."

"You have to make a wish!" You say, following the trail of the star with your eyes.

Nick leaned his head on your shoulder, snuggling closer to you. "Yeah, Noah, you saw it first! make the wish!”

You nodded in agreement, "He's right."

Noah smiled brightly and tilted his head to look at the two of you. His eyes were shining with mischief and curiosity. "I wish-" He started to say, but you quickly put your hand over his mouth, stopping him from speaking. "Don't say it out loud or it won't come true!" You warned him, laughing. You felt him mumble something under your hand and wondered what he wished for but didn't ask because you wanted all of Noah's dreams to come true.

The present:

You spring into action the moment you see Jolly turn around and look at the cord of his guitar. Something was wrong.

You had feared the day that this would happen but hoped it would never come. You wished it wasn't today.

Noah was already losing his patience with the crowd that kept brawling through the night, and the amount of technical difficulties that plagued the show made you feel like a lousy worker.

You sprint over to Jolly while Noah once again pauses the concert to lecture the crowd about their behavior. You're almost grateful for the disruption of the crowd. It buys you a few more minutes to figure out a solution to the problem.

You kneel down at the amp, searching for the problem, and you grab the cord, following it back to the guitar that Jolly is holding. His eyes widened, and he searched your face for answers.

You stick your pointer finger up as if telling him one minute, giving him hope that you've got this under control. You stand up, unplug the wire from his guitar, and race over to the chest. Lucky for you, only the cord needed to be replaced. You knew there was probably a bigger issue with Jolly's connection to his guitar, but right now, you couldn't fix that problem in the middle of the show.

You give Jolly a thumbs-up, and he gives a nod, mouthing thank you as you jog off the stage.

You hoped that would hold up until the show was over. You didn't believe in god but were now praying for a better outcome. You didn't want to disappoint the guys; they already had many issues tonight.

You sit on the side of the stage close to Jolly, just in case anything else happens. You were relieved when the band was no longer stopping for technical errors.

After the show, you meet up with guys backstage, giving them high-fives and admiration for their work.

You were so proud of them for all their badassery.

You walk them back to the bus, listening to them talk about the show. You hear Noah talking about the crowd, and he wonders out loud if they're doing something causing the actions. He's frustrated because this isn't the first time but hopes it will be the last.

You all rush into the bus, and Noah flops down on the couch. You sit beside him while the other three prepare to hit the town for the night.

When Ruffilo reappears in front of you, he has a sneaky smile on his face, "You're coming out with us right?" He asks you.

You shake your head and shut your eyes, "I'm really tired and going to pass out on this couch. This is my spot." You joke. "Now go, have fun. Drink for me." You say, waving them off.

As the others leave, you sit up straight, groaning, when you feel Noah's eyes on you. You know he's looking at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes, which always makes your heart skip a beat.

You pretend to be annoyed and turn to face him. "What?" You ask, trying to sound casual.

Noah shrugs. "I have an idea." He stands up, walks to his bunk, and grabs one of the small blankets off his bed. He then hurried over to the small fridge tucked under the cabinet next to you.

"Do you have a sweater?" You shake your head, "What are you up to?"

"Go get one of Nick's sweaters, I saw one on his bunk. It's chilly outside." He grins warmly at you.

You raise an eyebrow, "Are you trying to get me drunk and steal Nick's clothes?"

He chuckles, "Maybe. Is that a problem?"

You roll your eyes, but you can't help but smile. You get up, doing as he says, and snatch the black zip-up hoodie he was referring to.

You walk back to Noah, who gives you the bottle of wine and slings the blanket over his shoulder.

He rummages through the small kitchenette, finding two coffee cups. "Guess this will do." He says with a shrug. "Let's go!"

You playfully roll your eyes, "Can you fill me in on what's happening?" You say, following him out the door.

You feel a cold breeze hit your face, and you shiver, wishing you had a thicker jacket. The sky is dark with glittering stars, and you can't help but stare up at the sky. You've always loved the night sky, the way it makes you feel small and infinite at the same time.

"We're going to go sip some wine and look at the stars, just like the old days. We haven't done that in ages." He says, flashing you a smile.

You feel your heart race again, remembering all the times you spent together under the stars, talking, laughing, dreaming.

He wraps his arm around you and leads you to an area that isn't too far from the bus but feels natural due to the trees surrounding the area. You smell the fresh pine and earthy soil and feel a sense of peace.

Noah lays the blanket down and smooths out any wrinkles. You take off your shoes and step on them, sitting down, "Hurry up. I'm cold and I could really use your body heat right now." You tease.

You don't mind the cold but love the excuse to cuddle with him.

"Is that all I'm good for?" He says, sitting next to you. He lifts his arm and lets you snuggle into his side.

You feel his warmth and his heartbeat, and you sigh contentedly. You breathe in his scent, a mix of sweat, cologne, and something uniquely him. You feel his lips press against your hair, and you smile.

"Hand me the wine."

You reach beside you and grab the bottle, handing it to Noah. You hear the top pop off, and he begins pouring the wine into the coffee cups. You take a sip, and your face scrunches at the bitter taste, pulling away from Noah. You give him a look of disgust, and Noah laughs at your reaction.

"Who drinks this shit?" You take another drink, hoping your taste buds will become more accustomed to the taste.

You don't care about the wine; you just want to spend quality time with him, away from the tour's chaos and stress.

You lean back on your hands, gazing at Noah with admiration. He's too busy pouring more wine; you watch the red liquid flow like blood.

At this moment, you're convinced something else is going on with him. He seemed nervous and fidgety, his eyes darting like a trapped animal.

You break the short silence by leaning forward and reaching out to touch his hair. Your fingers linger at his neck as you say, "I like your hair when it gets longer." You admit while stroking the wild strands.

Noah smiles down at you, his brown irises soft and kind, "Why do you think I haven't cut it again?" He asks with a nervous laugh.

You feel your cheeks heat up, and you look away. "You're growing it out for me?" You say, half-joking, half-hoping.

"Yes, I am." He says, his voice serious. "Because I want you to find me attractive." The words slip out of his mouth, and he freezes. His eyes widen, shocked by his own words.

Noah had only ever told Nick about his secret, and he always told him it was a crush that would fade over time. He practically begged Noah not to tell you. Nick feared it would ruin your friendships and didn't want to be the middleman if something happened.

"You what?" You say, stunned.

He exhales, biting his lip. "You know what I wished for all those years ago when we were kids in the back of your truck with Nick?" He looks at you, his expression hopeful and nervous. He gently grabs your hand in his.

You feel nervous at his touch. Noah didn't act this way, not around you. "You're not supposed to tell me your wishes." You smile weakly.

"I have to." He says desperately. "I've tried not saying anything and it still didn't come true." He lifts your chin, making you look into his eyes. He wants you to hear him loud and clear. " I wished for you to fall in love with me, to look at me the way you look at the stars."

You feel excitement in your chest, and want him to know you've wished for the same thing. You wrap your arms around his neck, and whisper in his ear. “You don’t have to wish anymore. I love you too.”

He smiles widely, and pulls you closer to him, his hands cup your face as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. You feel his warm breath on your skin, and his tongue gently teasing your mouth. You hear his soft moan, and his heartbeat pounding in sync with yours.

You pull back, gasping for air, and look into his eyes. You see the same spark that ignited your kiss, the same desire that matched yours.

You smile and whisper, “I'll gladly make your wish come true.”

Tags: Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady @niicoleleigh

[teethondafloor]

Wait On Me - ¡Rescue Me! - (Bill Kaulitz x fem!reader)

This is an extract from the Wattpad fanfic I am currently writing, where each chapter is named after a song on Tokio Hotel's "Scream" album :3

Year: 2008

Warnings: Fluff and mentions of depression

My username on Wattpad is @Kazoozia if you're interested in reading the rest!

________.✮.________

After the concert ends and the lights are flashed back on, I feel a rush of fans behind me heading to the exit doors, their footsteps trampling over any litter left abandoned on the ground. I am one of the first people to leave the venue, as I was stuck hovering near the back of the room all night. However, I can't complain. The concert was unbelievable; Tom's rapid and clean guitar solos are still looping in my head after the show. My ears feel muffled and swollen as they are put at ease once the music is turned off, the large amps projecting a sharp ring when they are suddenly unplugged from their instruments. Deafened by their blare, I walk out of the building, feeling the cool breeze of the night slap me across the face as I inch closer to the outside. The realisation of how hot it was in that room hits me like the cold wind around me, melting away at my touch. I move away from the doors, looking around. I see some parents stepping out of their cars, growing impatient as they wait for their kids to come out of the building behind me. Making space for them, I stand at the wall of the venue with the front doors to my left and call myself a taxi back to the hotel.

As I wait for my taxi to arrive, I can't help but think about the concert again and again. I have the whole night playing over in my head like a broken record, repeating the same lyrics and tunes, burning them into the cracks of my brain. I was blown away by the intense energy from the crowd, perfectly complimenting the lively spirit of the band. I think of Bill. I'm still left speechless from his long stare and his teethy smile, shining in my direction. As some fans walk by, I feel their smiling faces glancing over at me, clearly remembering me for the plethora of noise I made at the back. I gently smile back at some of them as they pass, a sudden feeling of embarrassment washing over me, causing the hair on my arms to rise. God, did I disturb the show?

Busy watching the whole concert play out in my mind, I look up, noticing the taxi pull up on the other side of the pavement in front of me. I pull on the car's door and hop inside, watching my head as I lower my body into the vehicle. When I close the door behind me, I feel the car starting, shaking underneath me. It's rough interior brushes up against my bare arms and there is little room for my legs. It smells like hot shit, but I'll cope, I smile to myself. We drive through the lit up streets of Berlin, the city's graffitied walls blending into a solid, bright pink colour as we drive past them with speed. Looking out at the line of buildings and bars, I dig through my right jean pocket, grasping my crumpled up concert ticket in my palm. I uncrumple it a little and gaze at it's contents. I should've asked for a signature, I think to myself. A little bummed, I still doubt that I'll ever forget a night like this; the electricity of the concert rushing through me still. I scrunch up the paper once more and shove it back into my pocket, and as I look up, I see the hotel edging closer towards us. "This is me." I say to the driver, hoping that he stops near here so I don't have to walk back to the front doors from the parking lot behind the building. To my surprise, he stops just at the front doors of the hotel. I guess luck is on my side tonight, I think. I feel the car stop, the force pushing me forward a little until I bounce back into my seat again. I thank the driver and pay him for the trip, and as I exit the car I glance at my watch, "10.40pm" staring back at me.

Holding onto the straps of my backpack, I enter through the hotel doors and check into my room after a long, eventful night. I stumble towards the elevator doors and step inside, grazing my fingers over the buttons, until  pressing one that leads to the 5th floor. In the elevator, I feel my eyelids starting to lay heavy on my eyes, covering them over almost fully. I sway as the elevator travels from the bottom of the building right to the top, until I hear the 'ding' of the elevator stopping at my floor. As the doors slide open and reveal my face to the other side, I collect myself, step out and take a turn to my right, now walking towards my hotel room. I walk with my eyes half shut, tired and worn from the excitement of the night. On my way down the corridor, I walk past a few people, not batting an eye as they pass; until I hear someone call out from behind me. At first I don't think to turn around, assuming the call is directed to someone else in the hallway. All of the sudden, I feel firm footsteps running towards me, causing cold air to hit my back from the sudden movement. Before I turn around I feel a slight tap on my shoulder. I stop in my step and watch how this tall figure steps in front of me, cutting me off. They are now facing me. Silence settles between us, before they finally speak up. "Sorry to bother...uh...you dropped this" they hand me a crumpled piece of paper. A look of confusion shoots through my face which soon relaxes when I uncrumple the paper, realising that it's my concert ticket. "So...you're a fan I'm guessing" I hear them smile through their words, making me look up slowly. A sharp spark shoots into my throat, through my veins and burns at my fingertips.

It's Bill. Bill Kaulitz. My mouth peers open when I see his face, looking down at me with a smile. His hair is still caked with hairspray, now a little more flat, leaving only some strands pointing up to the ceiling. His fully black, emo attire contrasts with the yellow hallway lights, beaming above us. He looked like my shadow, ominously towering over me. "Oh my god.." I blurt out, not intending him to hear. "Bill, uh..." I shake my head, electricity rushing through me. "What are you...doing here?" I scrunch my eyebrows. He looks down at the floor for a second and then glances back at me before answering. "I'm just..." He thinks "on a walk around the building!" As he examines my face his eyebrows slowly lower and he turns his head slightly to the side. "Were you...at my concert? This nights concert?...You were the girl at the back right? The one screaming." he huffs gently, smiling and awaiting my answer which he clearly already knows.

"Yeah-" I chuckle and nod "yeah that was me up there...I hope I didn't disturb the concert too much." I smile awkwardly.

"No way!" His smile widens, revealing his teeth "You killed it! You brought that concert to life!" I bite the inside of my cheek as I smile, surprised by his enthusiasm. "And you...you were amazing up there- the...the whole band was. you killed that." I say, shaking my head. Bill laughs quietly and looks down at his feet, taking in my praise before opening his mouth to say something. "Thank you thank you...tonight was great for me too, I only fucked up like...once or twice" We both laugh and I notice him looking me up and down subtly.

"It was perfect, don't stress it." I say, reassuring him. We stand in silence for a moment, not knowing what else to say when I finally speak up, breaking our eye contact. "Well, I'll let you go now, you can have your...stroll around the building" I say jokingly. Bill looks away, chuckling softly. "Yeah uh...I'll do that!..." He takes a step forward, heading up the corridor before suddenly hesitating. "Oh my god I'm awful...I don't think I got your name sorry..." He stutters a little when he says this, anticipating my answer. Charmed by his awkwardness, I smile and gaze into his eyes. "y/n" I say, nodding my head.

"y/n" He repeats my name back, letting it's taste settle in his mouth. After a moment of brief silence, he breaks our eye-contact, his eyes shooting quick glances at me "Well, I hope you have a nice night y/n." Standing inches away from me, he raises his arm out, inviting me to shake it. I take his hand gently, feeling his cold rings pressing against my fingers. He looks at me for just a second longer and heads down the corridor before I can say my goodbyes. I turn back, my eyes following the back of his head.

Stricken with shock, I'm stunned to my core. What the hell just happened, I think, my back now to him. I just spoke to Bill fucking Kaulitz. Although I am frozen over in shock, I still feel a sort of warmth clustering inside my stomach. I think of his awkward smiles and prolonged stares. In that moment he was so...human. Up until now I've never really seen him in this light, as the only light that is flickered onto him is through interviews and photoshoots; where he is glamorised and simplified, leaving out the human part of him in between each flicker. Seeing his authenticity slip through his stutter, made me realise that Bill in fact is not a shadow that towers over me which I can morph into my own liking, but a person; one like me. I look down at the concert ticket, now warm in my grasp. Maybe I don't need that signature after all.

________.✮.________

Rummaging my keys through the keyhole, I step inside my breezy hotel room, locking the door behind me. I had left some windows open before leaving for the concert, which left the day's cold breath swirling around the room, blowing on the long and cheap curtains which brush against the carpeted floor. Feeling the air grazing my arms, I take a hold of my elbows in a gentle embrace while I step towards one of the windows, reaching over to shut it. A final huff of air escapes the window as I close it, shuffling the curtains delicately before they settle at last. I look out at the city below me, the sky painted a rich blue with shiny white glitter scattered all over. The moon casts a beam of light onto the city's buildings, which disappears into their shadows, creating a maze of black alleyways in between them. Admiring the view at my feet, I pull the curtains over the window, the rings holding them up jamming as I force them towards me. The moon's faint light still peers through the thin fabric, reflecting onto the carpet. With little light in the room, I shuffle towards the small lamp on table next to my bed, and blindly feel the switch with my fingers before pressing it. As the room bursts into a warm wash of light, I set my bag down on the ground next to the dresser.

What a night, I think. The exhaustion from the long day hits me once more, and I feel myself yawn as I stretch my arms out in front of me and rest them on my head. I take a moment to breathe, process. My mind is fogged with moments from the concert and the taxi and the ticket and Bill. Bill. Mostly Bill. The realisation that he is in the same building as me right now is slowly setting in, leaving me speechless. God. What if I run into him again? That would be awkward...I think? I don't know. I can't think right now. I need to uh...

I rub my eyes with both hands, wanting to keep myself awake. Trying to gather my thoughts, I look around again before untying my converse and unzipping my jeans, sliding them off of my legs in a struggle. I pick my jeans up with one hand and throw them into the corner of the room, where a pile of the rest of my dirty (or not so dirty) clothes helplessly lie. Honestly, I lost track of what pile that is a while ago. I stumble towards the small bathroom across from me and I hit the light switch with my hand, its bright flash blinding me. I hold onto the edge of the bathtub in the room, propping myself up while I turn the shower on and wait for the warm water to flow through its pipes. The cold and sharp water drips onto my knuckles, sprinkling me with its thin shards; I wiggle my hand above the bath, shaking it off. grabbing my band shirt by its sides, I pull it over my head and arms, dropping it onto the bathroom floor. As I hear it fall behind me, I slip out of my underwear and step into the tub, watching my head on the railing above. The water is warming up now and I can feel its warm droplets hitting against my skin, washing away the excitement of the night.

I stand in the shower for almost an hour, letting the water cleanse my mind as well as my skin. The burning steam from the shower fogs up the glass surrounding it, trapping the heat inside as it sinks into my pores. After allowing the water to warm me up completely, I sigh and turn the shower off, carefully stepping out of the tub. I grab a towel off of its rack which is bolted onto the wall, first drying myself off and then using it to wrap my hair in a tight turban. I walk out of the bathroom, hearing the soles of my feet patter on the damp floor under me after each step. I wander over to my white sheeted bed and throw myself onto it, my eyes looking up at the ceiling above me. I sit for a while in silence, my mind tired and still fogged with the hot steam which soon disintegrates into the air, revealing the thoughts which I had suppressed the whole night. 

What am I doing? I think. I glance over to my bedside table which holds a small lamp, a pile of university leaflets and pages of forms to fill out. I sigh and roll onto my side, my eyes now pointing to my laptop; I haven't turned it on since I got here a week ago. I've been avoiding writing for weeks now, which is definitely not helping me develop my portfolio. Stupid fucking portfolio. mountains of monologues and poems that I never manage to rhyme properly. They say I need to showcase my best work, for the world to know what I can do. But I just...can't. I can't help but keep proving that all of this is for nothing. I don't know what's wrong with me...I wanted this, I did. I said I would travel all the way out here to find a decent university that will take me in for what I am, for what I can do. For what I thought I could do. But what if I can't do this anymore? What if I'm sick of trying? What if these pages I'm writing mean nothing and I'm wasting my time trying to be understood. When the world was made for visuals and I can only communicate with words. God. My mind spirals down into a hole, the same hole that was left deep within me when my music career failed and plummeted into it. I'm so scared that writing will dig deeper, leaving me hallow. I notice my breath quicken as these thoughts race through me and even as I wallow in self pity, I hold myself, forcing any comfort I could find left within me onto myself.

I yawn gently, looking around the dimly lit room as the bedside lamp flickers slightly. I reach over to the drawer, pulling it open with ease and dig out my silver iPod mini, clutching it and the earphones dangling from it in the palm of my hand. Switching off the lamp, I pull the hotel's white duvet over me; soft folk melodies singing me to sleep. Laying with my thoughts tangling in my head, I skip a song and a familiar tune starts to play: "This used to be our secret...Now I'm hiding here alone..." It was 'Rescue Me'. I remind myself of the the same lyrics that played at the concert a few hours ago. Hours ago when loud music also drowned out my thoughts. I curl up into a ball as the song plays, feeling the duvet absorb my body heat and create a soft mist of heat hovering over me like a warm aura. I fall fast asleep, screaming in my head, my voice desperately trying to escape me. "...My S.O.S on radio...The only chance to let you know...What I fear...Can you hear?...Come and rescue me..."

________.✮.________

- teethondafloor (Zuźka)

[certifiedtrashmouth]

Oh gosh I don’t wanna repeat someone and I’m not sure about Xmas traditions but what about ridiculous stocking stuffers w Eddie? Fluff/humor.

oh, god. this one also got out of hand. started in light-hearted fun and ended in fluff that had me screaming into my pillow. i'm sorry for the length.

good for one kiss (eddie munson x reader)

warnings: none really. mentions of penis??? (eddie makes a joke about his dick and there's mention of a blowjob but no description lol), mentions of cigarettes, idiots in love. best friends to lovers.

“What am I supposed to do with a single piece of gum?” 

“What am I supposed to do with a single cigarette?” 

“Smoke it, idiot.”

“It’s broken, idiot.” 

“Oh.” 

You and Eddie sit cross-legged across from each other on his bed on Christmas Eve, partaking in your annual gift exchange. But there was a catch; each year, you exchanged stockings, only gifting each other what you could fit in the glorified, fleece-lined socks. There had only been two exceptions to the rule of the years - the year you’d gifted Eddie his first professional-grade amp and he’d bawled like a baby (once he’d dried his tears, he’d threatened you and Wayne both endlessly about ever letting the story leave the room. The two of you had exchanged a look, though, knowing neither of you would ever let him live it down.) and the year Eddie had bought you your first acoustic six-string with the promise of lessons from him (it was onyx black and shined with promise as Eddie explained the two of you needed to use paint markers to decorate it). 

It was going on five years of the tradition that had stemmed from both of you never being able to afford much for each other, but still wanting to show you care nevertheless. And as the years had gone on, the gifts had slowly found their rhythm. There was always a perfect mixture of cliche throwaway gifts, gag gifts, and gifts so sentimental that some tears were sure to be shed by one of the parties. 

“I didn’t think it would break,” you scrunch your nose slightly as Eddie holds up the cigarette, limp from the crack in the middle of it. 

“What did you expect, just throwing it in here like that?” Eddie laughs, not bothered in the slightest. He had a pack of Camels snug in the pocket of his leather jacket slung over his desk chair. It was the thought that counted, after all. 

“I expected it to be absolutely fucking invincible for how expensive the pack was,” you whine, and he can’t help but watch you with bemusement, “I spent my last dollar from my tips on that damn pack.” 

The mention of that softens the look in Eddie’s eyes. He knew the two of you struggled to come up with enough money to even keep up this tradition; he had hardly seen you due to how many spare shifts you’d been picking up at Benny’s the last few weeks. 

You catch the look, immediately straighten up, “No, no, no. Don’t even go there, Munson. I can see you going there. Come back to me, idiot.” 

Idiot. The term of endearment you’d coined for him since you’d first met in sophomore year of high school. He’d heard it in a dozen different tones - elated, annoyed, exhausted - but not a single one held an ounce of genuine negativity towards him. You made idiot sound like my love. 

He wasn’t your lover, though. He kicked himself in the shins every morning over it, always telling himself that today was the day and I’m going to tell her how I feel finally. 

Spoiler alert. He never did. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he offers up his own loving nickname for you, “I just know you’ve been busting your ass at Benny’s-” 

“Yes, I have, because I want to spoil you for the holidays. I don’t regret a single second of it. Even when those creepy old men tried to shove the dollar bills in my shirt rather than just hand them to me.”

You both laugh at the memory. It hadn’t been very funny when it happened, leading to you calling Eddie crying and him coming to your rescue, but enough time had passed to see the humor in it all. 

The rest of the gift exchange goes as expected for the most part. The gag gifts pull the appropriate amount of laughter, and the more genuine gifts pull a softness out of each other that nearly had each of your eyes’ pupils forming hearts. 

Eddie fawns over a pack of pics you’d had customized with Corroded Coffin’s logo, and you react just as bluntly as expected when you pull a long red candle from your stocking, looking up to Eddie blankly. 

“For when I finally sacrifice you in the woods,” he explains with a cheesy grin, “Gotta have candles if we’re going to worship Satan, sweetheart.” 

“Ha-ha,” you dead pan, tilting your head slightly as you keep a straight face, completely unimpressed, “You’re hilarious, Munson.” 

“Hey, I could have made a sex joke,” he throws up his hands in a defensive manner, shrugging his shoulders and looking to the ground in faux shyness. 

“Yeah, yeah - you could have made a sex joke,” you mumble as you shove the candle to the side, a smile still escaping the corners of your mouth. 

“As a matter of fact, I still can. Don’t think I didn’t notice the fact that you replaced my stocking this year, darling, and that it’s noticeably larger. Finally big enough to fit over my massive dic-” 

“You’re disgusting,” you interrupt, grabbing the candle and now whacking one of his knees with it, making him fall victim to an uncontrollable giggling fit, “Have you ever been told that? Let me be the first to tell you - you’re absolutely vile, Edward Munson.” 

You don’t mean it, and he knows you don’t. You’re both laughing too much over it. 

You’re starting to get to the bottom of the stockings now. You each have an odd arrangement of candy that had been included in each respective stocking - Eddie is socking on a blue jolly rancher, being sure to make annoying slurping noises to get a rise out of you, as you nibble on a miniature candy cane. There’s only one gift left in your stocking, a small box that you only reach for once you rewrap the candy cane in the plastic wrap it’d come in that you’d saved to avoid getting sticky fingers. 

“What’s this?” you ask, pulling it out and letting the empty stocking fall into your lap. 

Eddie looks up from where he was preoccupied with attempting to open another jolly rancher. His eyes light up from the present in your palm, “Oh, only saving the best one for last, sweet thing.” 

You look at him questioningly, but begin to slide your finger under the delicate edge of the small box regardless. It takes concentration to pry open the box without tearing it, but you do, you gasp. 

In a bed of cotton, there’s a necklace. 

It looks like a copy of Eddie’s signature pick necklace. But instead of the dark swirling black between clouds of burgundy red, it shines with pearlescent opal white and ruby red, glimmering on a silver chain as if it were made of jewels. 

When you gently lift it from the box, it’s clear it’s not a real pick. It’s heavier - Hell, it might actually be made of gemstones. 

“Eddie-” you gasp, cutting yourself off, mesmerized by the beauty. 

He’s nearly shaking with delight, “It’s a locket. Look, open it.” 

You see what he means immediately, realizing that the weight was from the thickness of the faux pick. There’s a subtle seam, with a silver lock on the side that clicks gently when you press on it. The locket swings open, and inside is a snug photo of you and Eddie. You can pinpoint exactly when the photo was taken; it was at your birthday party two years ago, both of you laughing with cake icing on the tips of your nose. The photo is in dramatic black and white, but you can still picture how obnoxiously red your cheeks were with Eddie’s arm slung around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you two lost it over God knows what. 

You feel yourself beginning to tear up, completely stunned, “I- Oh my God, Eddie. I don’t know what to say.”

“You can start with how I’m the best friend ever,” he cheekily grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you let out a breathless laugh. 

“It’s…God, it’s beautiful. This- This is too much, Eddie. I can’t imagine how expensive-”

“Nope,” he cuts you off quickly, waving his hands frantically, refusing to listen to your lecture. He didn’t care if it had cost him everything he owned, down to the clothes on his back - it was worth it to see that look on your face. “Don’t even start, sweetheart. One of Wayne’s friends at the plant has a wife who makes jewelry for a living. We got the family discount because she thought the idea was so dang adorable,” his voice pitches to mock the mystery woman, and it makes you tearily laugh some more. 

You look back down at the open locker, finger tracing over the opposite side from the photo. 

E. It’s engraved in cursive. As if you’d ever forget the initial of the boy in the photo - the boy in front of you. 

“You really had to choose the photo that made me look like a dork, didn’t you?” you softly tease under your breath, staring at the memory in unfiltered fondness. 

“Someone’s got to keep you humble,” he retorts. 

You ignore his comment, standing quickly and holding the necklace out to him, “Help me put it on?” 

He doesn’t hesitate to leap off the bed to your side, taking the chain gingerly before you turn and face your back to him. His movements are careful and deliberate as he brushes your hair off to the side, cold fingers skimming over your skin and sending shivers down your spine before he loops the necklace around the front of your chest. You can feel his warm breath on the nape of your neck as he fiddles with the clasp for a few moments before finding success. 

“Aha! Perfect,” he claps as you spin around, grinning giddily at the weight that sits naturally between your collarbones. It gives you a sense of security, a sense of comfort, a sense of home. 

“Thank you, Eddie,” you earnestly say, voice crumbling with emotions as your smile shines and you lift a hand to pinch the necklace between two fingers. The locket is smooth as you rub over it, “I love it.” 

His face reflects your happiness right back before you suddenly throw yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. He returns it immediately, squeezing you back just as strongly. You both melt into the hug, comfortable as you eventually beginning to just-barely-sway in the middle of Eddie’s room, chests pressed together as hearts beat in sync. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your hair before placing a chaste kiss on your temple. 

“Merry Christmas, Eds.” 

You finally pull away, both of you returning to your original positions on the bed. Gifts are scattered around you, mixing with candy and wrappers, as Eddie pulls up his stocking and begins to shake it upside down. 

“There’s not any more gifts, Eddie, you already opened them-” you cut yourself off, the smile that had your cheeks aching still fading when a piece of paper flutters from his stocking. 

Oh no. 

“No more gifts, you say?” he smirks in your direction, picking up the folded note, “What’s this, then?” 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’d forgotten about that. When you’d been wrapping Eddie’s gifts the night before, Robin had joined you to keep you company. The two of you had broken into a few bottles of wine around the house when you had a bright idea (at least, at the time it seemed bright. Now, it was the dumbest idea you’d ever had. Ever.). Coupons for Eddie, ranging from redemption for kisses to redemption for more… explicit acts. To be fair, Robin had egged you on, knowing of your hopeless crush of two years on your best friend. You’d folded each ‘coupon’ and sealed them with kisses from red lipstick the two of you had dug out of your desk drawers. You’d chickened out when the buzz from the wine faded, and pulled all of the ridiculous notes out before properly filling the stocking with his actual gifts. 

Or at least, you thought you’d gotten all of the notes out. Clearly, you hadn’t. 

“Don’t open that!” you blurt out, lurching forward and attempting to snatch the paper from Eddie. It only makes his smirk grow, hand shooting out away from you, glancing wildly between you and the kiss-stained paper. 

“Now you’ve really got me curious,” he mocks, pulling a face at you as he brings the paper back to his face, beginning to unfold it. 

“No, Eddie, seriously, don’t read it. Please. It was so stupid, I- Robin and I were drinking, and I just…” you trail off in your explanation as he completely disregards you and his eyes trail over your scribbled words. 

You didn’t even know which one had been left behind. You could only hope it was one of the less vulgar ones. 

“Is this a joke?” he asks softly. You’re shocked - you’d expected merciless teasing. Not whatever look was currently in his eyes. 

“What?” you ask, trying to peer over to see what the paper said. Depending on which dumb coupon it was, your answer would change, “I- Sort of. Maybe. No. I don’t know.” 

You begin to wring your hands in your lap, waiting for him to respond. You felt so nauseated you considered escaping to the bathroom. Maybe you could die of embarrassment in the Munson men’s bathtub. 

But then you remember it’s the Munson men’s bathtub, and decide the better fate may lay here, Eddie glancing up at you with moving curiosity, eyebrows furrowed. 

Your cheeks burn crimson as you wish for the Earth to swallow you whole. 

“Yes or no? Is it a joke?” he asks again, a stern tone that manages to not come across angry. 

Your stomach and chest twist in sync, “No. It isn’t a joke.” 

Suddenly, Eddie is taking the note and thrusting it towards you, eyes blown wide and chest heaving. 

“Then I’d like to redeem it now, please.” 

You don’t realize it, but the room had started spinning the moment Eddie had read what was written down. It felt like a dream - a dream he’d indulged in with no hopes of it ever coming true for an embarrassingly long amount of time now. 

Your hands shake as you reach out to take the note from him, and you look down to see just how much drunk you had screwed you over in this moment. 

In your messy handwriting, it reads: Coupon for Eddie Munson - good for one (1) kiss. To be redeemed at Eddie’s discretion. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful it wasn't a vulgar one, before the reality of what Eddie had just requested hits you.  

“Did you just- did you just say you want to redeem it now?” 

Eddie nods, a determined look crossing his face, “Yes, please.” 

You both stare at each other for a moment, letting the emotions in the air sink in. It takes a moment before you both break out into withheld, shy smiles. 

“Okay,” you sigh. 

Before you can overthink it, you’re both leaning forward, Eddie’s hands cupping your cheeks as his lips meet yours tenderly. It’s just a peck, nothing more, but it sends your heart into cardiac arrest. You can still taste the jolly ranchers on his lips, and he tastes the sweet mint of the candy cane on yours. 

You both pull back slightly, his hands not leaving your face, knees pressing together. Your eyes had fluttered close, and you don’t have the guts to open them quite yet and face the consequences of what had just happened between the two of you. 

“I like you,” you admit quietly, your entire body tensing as you await rejection.

It doesn’t come. Instead, you’re met with the sound of Eddie’s gentle voice, “I like you, too.” 

Your eyes finally spring open to already find him staring at you with adoration. “You do?” 

“Of course I do, sweetheart. I let you touch my first sweetheart. I only give that privilege to the prettiest of girls,” he laughs, eyes flickering to your lips but still keeping his distance. 

“You’ve only let me have that privilege.” 

“Exactly.” 

He finally closes the distance again, lips slotting against yours as if they’re meant to be. Something clicks in the Universe, something that says that this is right and meant to happen. Two years of silent and hopeless pining, only to find out both your feelings were returned. It leaves the two of you delirious as you both deepen the kiss. Somehow, Eddie ends up scooting up his bed until his back meets the wall where his headboard would be if he had one, you straddling his lap. It’s all still so innocent; just the two of you, soft and sickly sweet kisses as you hold one another as if you expect the other to vanish. 

“Merry Christmas, Eds,” you repeat your earlier statement and reach up to his gifted locket on instinct now. It feels right. You and him this close, you and him kissing, the photo of you resting against your chest where it belongs. 

“Best Christmas ever,” he chuckles before he captures you in another kiss. 

He’s right. It’s safe to say the two of you struggle to ever top that Christmas. You make it a running joke to always include coupons in his stocking from that year on. Each year, the coupons get better, sometimes raunchy and sometimes just downright adorable. 

Good for one cuddle. 

Good for one blowjob (don’t waste it).

Good for one surprise date night. 

They’re always fairly clever, and each year, he thinks you get closer to topping that first note. 

But it’s not until years down the road, when the two of you sit across from each other in your now shared living room, in some big city you now call home, that he knows that he had finally topped that year. The look on your face when you dig into the bottom of your stocking, finding the small box that contains the diamond ring he’d been saving up for ever since that first kiss, tells him everything he needs to know. 

It’s still pretty nice when he hears you squeal yes out loud, though.

[kkpwnall]

for the kindest, darlingest, most effervescent sen @fragilecapric0rnn 💜 just a little something for you. i’m so proud and grateful to call us friends, you’re thoughtful and hilarious, and so willing to go to the mat for your friends. you’re a brilliant writer and the sweetest cheerleader. i hope you have an incredible day, and an even better year ahead of you, i’m so excited to see where life and writing and everything else takes you!! you deserve the whole world. love you lots <33

It might have been harder to say goodbye if it was a nicer day. If the sun was shining, and the leaves were changing, and a cool autumn breeze blew all around them. Instead Hawkins chewed them up and spit them out the other side like it had so many times before. The sky above them opened up just as they loaded the last of the boxes in the back of the small uhaul, leaving them soaked to the skin as they threw the last of their essentials and themselves into the cab. They left town shivering and laughing uncontrollably, middle fingers out the window. Ecstatic to finally get out of that hometown hell. 

It’s all worth it, driving thousands of miles across the country, towing the beamer behind them. It’s worth it trying to navigate the narrow streets of San Francisco and getting lost at least three times before they find their new apartment. It’s worth the hike uphill from the closest parking spot big enough for the truck, and up another three flights of stairs, when Eddie unlocks the door and gallantly bows him inside. Steve wanders from kitchen to bathroom to bedroom, imaging the bed here, a bookshelf there, the desk under this window. Eddie’s amps and instruments in that corner, Steve’s sport’s equipment in the hall closet near the door, easy to grab. Before coming back to the living room with its big bright windows and view of the bay. 

Tomorrow, their friends will come by to help them unload the truck and unpack, get paid in pizza and beer and belly laughs. In a few days, a few weeks, they’ll settle in, find the grocery store, find jobs. Learn the city and meet their neighbors. In six months, a year, two years, theirs will be the place to crash for anyone visiting, anyone who needs somewhere to stay, somewhere to go.

They’ll argue and make up and struggle, lose friends and jobs and find so much better. They’ll get bad haircuts and grow weird facial hair and make questionable fashion choices. They’ll stay up late crying over things they can’t change and things they can. They’ll celebrate the new year and birthdays and lives cut too short and new ones beginning. They’ll grow and change into people they wouldn’t recognize when they were younger. 

Tonight though, it’s just Steve and Eddie, finally someplace where the ground beneath them won’t open up and try to swallow them whole. Somewhere they can be together and not have to look over their shoulders all the time. Somewhere they can be themselves, be just Steve and just Eddie, and figure all the rest out without a world-ending apocalypse every year. Together.

All the frustration and stress and hoping and wishing and scraping by of the past three years, it’s all worth it when Eddie comes up behind him, wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder. Pulls him close and whispers, “welcome home, sweetheart.”

[franklinfinley]

Hey! I'm Franklin, he/they. First year student at Naranja Academy, but I've been through several Gym Circuts for 7 years at this point. The Treasure Hunt is well underway, and things are looking great! I'm a ghost and fire type specialist, as well as a general Drowzee/Hypno specialist LOL

MY CURRENT TEAM:

Koraidon: a strange form of Cyclizar given to me by my friend Arven, originally owned by his mother Professor Sada. He prefers not to battle, but he will if he needs to. He maily loves acting as a riding mount and food-stealer >:P

Lullay: my service Hypno and first partner Pokemon. We've been a duo for 14 years now! She doesn't primarily battle, she mostly helps with my anxiety and insomnia. She steps up for defense if we need it, though.

Tabasco: my Skeledirge and chosen starter for Naranja Academy! He's a little scrapper and eager to prove himself in a fight, and just as eager to sit back, sing his little songs, and eat all my oranges. Little orange heathen even as he grows up

Sparky: my Luxray! He's a bundle of energy and a reckless battler. He loves nothing more than getting to flaunt his stuff and also wail and cry and flail his fists on the ground when he loses

Sushi: my Curly Tatsugiri, and an odd quiet fellow. He likes splashing water on the other teammates for funny pranks and curling up in my collar or hair. That being said, he is a FIERCE battler. Honestly kinda scary with what he can pull off from such a tiny body...

Arthur: my Beartic! He's very polite with me and the team, but fierce when it comes to defense. It takes a while for him to warm up to new people, but those he warms up to he holds close.

Strawberry Lemonade: my shiny Amped-Up Toxtricity, who i rescued from the wild as a Shadow variant. She's clingy and packs a MEGA punch, and cocky with her skills as a battler. Now that she's come out of her shell, her punk rock personality really shines through.

Montez: my Garchomp, and just what you'd expect from such a feared creature. She's the meanest of the group and always first to volunteer for a fight. She swings hard and fights with pure power. Now that she's calmed, she's the perfect guard 'mon.

Things at Naranja are going great! My friend Nemona has shown me all the ropes, and I feel like I'm gonna have a good few years here. This might just be my Yelling About Things blog. So if you're into that thing feel free to tag along!

[OOC UNDER CUT]

Heallo this is the in character blog i have for my self insert!! I follow from my main @yatgb

Be prepared for Main Character And Mary Sue Shenanigans, and dont be afraid to ask abt stuff he mentions in posts!! I plan to have this going as a whole thing with arcs and all that, basically going through all of scarvi's plot, including DLC down the line. This WAS gonna be an art-based askblog but i dont rlly have the time for one of those :( but ill be posting story snippets later down the lind!

Pelipper Mail is on as long as its something small, he wont accept like new pokemon or money or anything. Think like what youd get from a mystery gift :D Magic Anons are off!

Also, dont take everything Franklin says at face-value. He's got a loong history, and some secrets to hide. There's a chance he could be lying about some stuff ',:) expect a well meaning but unreliable narrator

That being said, I like to do my own worldbuilding so whenever he goes into biology details dont look too hard into it. We're havin fun here. I also don't plan on doing any multiverse shenanigans. This is a self contained story about an oc thats very dear to me :D so just go with the flow. I might interact with other blogs as long as its feasible they could on Rotomblr connected through a multiverse.

Other character interaction is encouraged, as well has sentient pokemon except Legendaries! He has his own lore with a lot of legends it would be a little wack

Here's what he looks like! With Lullay!

[milkyplier]

For your letter ask game: Y

Y - IAU Legend Gets Stabbed but Different

This one is clearly set in @skyward-floored’s Incredibles AU XD it was one of many attempts at writing a gift (which is still in the works) for her. It was an attempt at a sequel to her Febuwhump Day 14, Bloodstained Tiles, in which Legend gets stabbed after sneaking out and Wild and Wind help him. I tried this approach more than once before deciding it wasn’t going to work out XD a few other letters have been assigned to some of these other attempts :)

I also just thought this wasn’t very well written, hence I abandoned it. I struggle to continue things I perceive as done badly. Here’s the entirety of this snippet:

When Malon wakes up in the morning, Legend has caught whatever Hyrule had, and Hyrule was worse than he was yesterday. At least, that’s what it seemed like. But a cold did not really account for how weak and shaky Legend was when he got up. It was also strange that it seemed to have come out of nowhere, with no sore throat, no sniffles or coughs or reluctance to eat. In fact, Legend was starving, and thirsty. Oddly enough, she also finds several of her towels in the drier, and the bathroom has a just-cleaned shine. Four, Wild and Wind all have circles under their eyes. She asks them all what happened, and they claim Hyrule was really sick last night. Like, super sick, and he threw up a lot and they didn’t want to bother her or Time and just cleaned it up themselves. Malon is inclined to believe it, especially when Hyrule seems to get similarly sick later that same day. So she brushes it off, and forgets about it—an easy feat in a house of eight people. For a while, at least.

- some years later -

A nightmare wakes Malon. She tries, to no avail, to fall back asleep for perhaps twenty minutes before she acknowledges the lingering anxiety from the dream and decides a cup of chamomile tea will settle her nerves and help her get back to sleep.

Careful not to jostle her husband too much (though it hardly mattered, the man slept like a rock), she slipped out of bed, wrapped herself in her silky robe and tucked her feet into her worn slippers before shuffling quietly into the kitchen.

The house is silent, a fact which in itself makes Malon feel better. Once upon a time, such silence unnerved her, but nowadays, she knows it means all her boys are asleep, safe and warm in their beds and there is something comforting to her about that. She doesn’t quite know why, but she doesn’t complain and keeps going towards the kitchen. When she gets to the kitchen, however, she’s surprised to see someone already there.

She thinks one of her sons must have gotten a snack—Wild is known to get the munchies at night—but the figure’s build doesn’t match Wild’s. On top of that, Wild’s midnight snacks usually consist of whatever ancient, long-lost things he finds in the pantry. When she finds him in the kitchen at night, he’s haunched over an expired bag of animal crackers. Not haunched over the sink, murmuring to himself and apparently playing in the water by the light of his phone’s flashlight.

A bad feeling rises in Malon’s stomach. She doesn’t know why.

“Legend…?” She says softly, able to recognize her son even in the terrible, low light. He freezes, glances over his shoulder at his mom.

“Mom! Hi,” his voice is slightly strained. “What are you doing awake at this hour? Are you alright?”

She frowns. She knows that tone, the inflection. He’s amping up the concern, trying to distract her from him by acting extra sweet. It’s something all her boys do when they don’t want her noticing something. It has worked very few times without her allowing it to. This won’t be one of them.

“I could ask the same of you,” she says. She keeps her words firm, but light, so he knows he won’t be getting out of this but she isn’t angry.

“Uhh…” he hands shift nervously in the sink water. He doesn’t say anything.

She approaches him, flicking on the kitchen lights. She looks into the sink and sees his super suit, submerged in cloudy reddish water. Legend’s arms are covered in cuts and bruises, and he won’t look at her.

“Legend. Look at me.”

His shoulders are tense. After a second, he turns his face to look down into the sink water, rather than at her. It’s enough to get a visual on what she wanted—a blossoming black eye, split lip and other minor nicks on his face.

“You went out, didn’t you.”

His silence is answer enough.

“Legend…” Malon struggles to find the words, caught between worry and anger born of worry. “Legend…I—“

“I know the risks.” Legend cuts in. “I know. I know what you and dad said. I’m not stupid, or deaf. People need help. And I can help them.”

“…That’s not—“

“I do help them, in fact, I saved a dozen lives tonight. And I didn’t die, I can hold my own. I don’t need to be babied or anything, I can handle my own consequences.”

[tabethawithane]

Alright, here’s my season 4 spoiler-riddled rant under the cut. You have been warned.

The Good:

- Great character development for Oliver. I like his budding friendship and camaraderie with Charlie. One of the worst things about this show is the endless revolving door of secondary characters (wonder if it doesn’t pay enough), so it was great to have these characters shine this season.

- The flashback episode. I’ve been begging for this since season one. Props to the actress who played Eliza’s mannerisms perfectly. Young William was laying it on thick with his over enunciation in an attempt at a Glasgow accent, but I still found him charming. I think the flashback kiss happened bit too early on in their friendship timeline, but I love that it was Eliza who initiated it. 10/10 execution. Will rewatch 4x.

- William looking longingly at Eliza in every shared scene. It was amped up to 1000 this season and I was living for every minute of it.

- Mysteries were still fun and well written. I enjoyed them.

The Bad:

- Eliza – Her character has stagnated. Instead of letting the character see newfound success this season, the creators reduced her to once again “woman trying to make ends meet running a failing business while navigating sexism”. I hate that it came out at the end that her failure was in large part due to her angrily firing 4 of Nash & Sons staff, making them all quit and sabotaging her own success. What was the point honestly? To end up back at her old office? Sure she has Clarence now, unless he disappears like all the other secondary characters.

- Eliza with William – I understand that their main conflict in pursuing a relationship is her career, and I grasp the magnitude of the fear she has that she’ll have to give it up. But this was the first season where I wondered if Eliza is actually interested in William at all beyond as a friend. She was visibly uncomfortable with every one of his romantic advancements and she low-key just stood there when he kissed her. She also didn’t say she loved him back. It almost made me uncomfortable to watch his confession, which is not what I was expecting after rooting for them for years. Also the audacity to send him generic “my day is going well” friendly letters after he confessed he’s in love with her. Girl please put this man and me out of our misery.

- Nash – Absolute character assassination. Enough said.

At this point, I’m genuinely unsure of the trajectory of the show. I think it might be best if they end it after one more season because dragging it out is just making the writing flaws so much more obvious. Also, Stuart seems to have one foot out the door and if he leaves the show before it’s over the whole thing collapses.

[thelazykiwi]

My Favorite CAS Mods & Sliders!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ Hi friends! I made a video to show and recommend all of the mods I mention in this post, here they all are! Enjoy :) ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

1. CAS Background - ellcrze

https://www.patreon.com/posts/cas-background-76389098

2. Stand Still In CAS - MizoreYukki

https://modthesims.info/d/630172/stand-still-in-cas-amp-no-occult-animations-version-shimrod101-amp-shooksims.html

3. More Traits In CAS - Thepancake1 & MizoreYukki

https://www.patreon.com/posts/more-traits-in-62838078

4. More Columns In CAS - weerbesu

https://www.patreon.com/posts/more-columns-in-27751117

5. Minimal CC Wrench Icon Override - Rheallsims

https://rheallsim.tumblr.com/post/634815036656910336/minimalist-cc-icon-cc-wrench-replacement-mod-i

6. Tidy Details & Tattoos - SoaringSparrows

https://sparrowcc.tumblr.com/post/177212146073/i-cant-be-the-only-person-out-there-with-more

7. EA Teeth Begone - Pyxis

http://pyxiidis.blogspot.com/2017/04/ea-teeth-begone-default-replacement.html

8. No EA Eyelashes - CIEŃ Z RÓŻĄ

https://cienzroza.blogspot.com/2017/04/soon-little-thing.html

9. Default Underwear Replacement - akalukery

https://www.patreon.com/posts/softe-collection-37572637

10. Pouty Lip Slider - Miiko

https://www.patreon.com/posts/pouty-lip-slider-38539565

11. Eyebrow Slider - Miiko

https://www.patreon.com/posts/eyebrow-slider-39393841

12. Chin Slider - Miiko

https://miikocc.tumblr.com/post/648360817514971136/chin-slider

13. Body Sliders For Days - Vibrantpixels

https://vibrantpixels.tumblr.com/post/175318602867/body-sliders-for-days-4ooo-followers-gift

14. Sim Height Slider - Luumia

https://luumiasims.com/post/174867678324/height-slider-a-slider-that-changes-the-height-of

15. Body Presets - Miiko

https://miikocc.tumblr.com/post/642048598564077568/updates-improvements-skins-body-presets-eyes

16. Eye Shine Remover - Luumia

https://luumiasims.com/post/176055728626/pretty-self-explanatory-a-mod-that-removes-the

17. CAS Lighting - simplyanjuta

https://simplyanjuta.tumblr.com/post/664688629684273152/cas-lighting-city-light-neutral-light

18. No Glo V2 - Luumia

https://luumiasims.com/post/167217001494/i-released-the-noglo-mod-about-a-year-and-a-half

19. No Blu V2 - Luumia

https://luumiasims.com/post/176043227929/its-been-well-over-a-year-since-noblu-v1-came-out

20. Gshade

https://gposers.com/gshade/

Gshade Presets:

- Ellcrze Gshade - ellcrze

https://www.patreon.com/posts/ellcrze-gshade-73602147?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link

- Coco Dreams - simbeautyguru

https://www.patreon.com/posts/coco-dreams-67706744?epik=dj0yJnU9U0pWS2laODB4U0YzOFZyR1dpVTdHTHA4bTR0ZHMxTXomcD0wJm49Wmx4RE4wdmp6U2liVTdmakhmWlFHQSZ0PUFBQUFBR056bUFR

- Strawberry - MidsummerMoon20

https://midsummermoon20.tumblr.com/post/695690104819400704/neapolitan-gshade-preset-collection-comes-with-3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If this post makes no sense to you, you probably haven’t watched my video lol, that’s okay, I’ll link it for you!

Video Link: https://youtu.be/_AFDZsKjBss

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Anyway that’s all guys, check out my channel and other platforms if you haven’t already, love ya!

https://linktr.ee/the.lazy.kiwi

~Kiwi

[not-goldy]

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.nationalheraldindia.com/amp/story/international/skorean-cabinet-passes-bills-to-allow-single-people-to-adopt

Simple

It's only been 1 yr since this new ammendment. And it's gonna be even easier in 10- 15 years as single parent system is increasing rapidly because most korean woman wants to get married/get pregnant and birth rate is declining. So if he wants kids while also being with JK.. all he wants to do is adopt a baby while being single dad officially. He satisfies all official criteria as of now.. he got money and influence which makes legal processes easier and makes him 10x privileged than average single parent.

Do you all really think Jikook 'luckily' won that lottery system to enlist together? Be fr. They might have started the procedures in August but I bet they didn't had to go through 'computer lottery selection'.. they got power, they got money, they got influence, they are governments fav child who they want to finish service fast and start milking, they will be promoted two times faster than average soldier, they will be appointed as head roles in their camps, they will be allowed for companion enlistment if they applied for that, THEY ARE BTS... ONE OF THE PROMINENT PEOPLE IN SK. If SK government approved a Korean queer couple to enlist together and turned a blind eye towards all those protests against it... they don't mind Park Jimin adopting a baby while being in a relationship with Jeon Jungkook. All they want is a official record signing Park Jimin is a single parent, just to make legal sides clear... with whom he's raising that kid is not their concern.

Yea I'm done with them.

They know and admit Jikook have privilege and power but fail to see how and where that privilege and power works in their favor.

Personally I don't want them to just adopt, although any child they adopt would be so lucky- and my goodness would it be nice if they adopt children of different races😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I will uproot my life and volunteer as nanny with no pay for the rest of my life. I will take care of them kids like they are the most precious beings on this earth🥺

I do want to see their own biological kids too you know?

A Mini Min with his father's eyes and lips and if they turn out even more androgynous with big booty then what😩

Also they will be so loved by us BTS and their kids🥺

One wrote in and said, well single father has nothing to do with Jungkook. They think JM would have to cut Jungkook out of his life at some point in order to live a traditional life.

They are very very highly ignorant if that's what they think. Jungkook will forever be a part of JMs life unless they fall out of love at some point- and even then they would be very good friends too.

Like I said it's his choice and he certainly has options if all that is in his way is institutionalized homophobia.

They came up with a travel documentary as an excuse to go on a trip together before serving they can certainly come up with a billion other creative ways to enjoy a fulfilling life together.

If not, then all the more reason for them to enjoy it while it last. What is it JK says, make hay while the sun shine.

Two years ago I almost broke up with my girl for good because of these uncertainties. I knew I didn't want children, didn't even consider let alone desire marriage because coming from a very conservative Christian black home, that's not an option to marry a woman. You can't be gay and you can't be unmarried and childless. And for me, those who know think it's some sort of phase I will outgrow once I'm faced with reality.

So while I am this way, hiding the truth of what I am from people in my life, openly living in my truth when I'm away from my family- I'm learning to stand up to them. To confront them with my truths without shame and with confidence.

I'm not hiding anymore- may be a little. Lol. But I'm not making excuses anymore. I'm not telling them, I'm still young I'll worry about that latter. I'm not saying, she's just a good friend. That the rumors are false. That I'm waiting for the right one, that I haven't found the right man- I'm not saying all that anymore.

I may not able to tell it as it is but I'm telling exactly what it is not.

No I don't want a wedding but yes I do want life long commitment and I want legal rights with it dammit

I want consistent immutable inalienable rights and that is more important to me than having kids getting married and all that other stuff.

I want to be able to live my life in peace and not worry about changing laws that give one minute and take away the next.

I want freedom. I want paradise.

and may be one day I'll want children may be I won't.

I want what I want and I don't want what I don't want. I'm manifesting for myself through positive affirmations.

Nothing is as black and white as they make it seem.

And I'm cautious in this discourse because some have committed suicide rather than "face reality" or choose to conform to these societal standards they are perpetuating and wielding over jikook's heads.

They are perpetuating the very thing oppressing us and the very thing we spend most of our lives fighting.

They are not saying if Jikook are gay this system would be a challenge for them as it has been for others, they are saying this is the system and Jikook have no right to go against it. This is the system, they must conform to the status quo as many queer men have and they will.

There's something oppresive, sinister and disturbing about that to me. The lengths they will sink to to invalidate Jikook is crazy.

On the flip side, pointing out Jikook's privileges too too much also alienates them and puts a target on their backs as we might make it look as if they would not have to face all the many real struggles others face due to their sexual orientation in SK. It's a lose lose situation however you look at it.

It's their life their choice and whatever they choose to do is very valid. I'm sorry to Jikook they have to deal with this and I pray things get better in SK over time as you have rightfully pointed out.

I stand with Jikook and every queer person in that system. Things are a bit better today compared to years ago but boy are they living in the vip region of hell.

And Bang PD's advice to that artist about the challenges he would face if he chooses to live his truth and wear heels will always give me comfort especially the fact he was willing to help him make it work in his career in spite of the odds against him

I know, there are people close to jikook with the same mentality. They know the "reality" and situation on the ground, they empathize with them, are willing to direct them on how to make it work if they choose this path and so they don't feel isolated.

Please help me support Jikook okay? Stay with them to the end, pray for them love them fight for them.

The challenges they face, I wish I could say it's all just fiction, it's real, it's dangerous, it's traumatizing, the mental turmoil alone is

Sigh.

Support Jikook. Jikook is real.

[dustedmagazine]

Amy Rigby — Hang in There with Me (Tapete)

Photo by Chris Sikich

“Yeah, yeah, age is just a number. Bullshit…I don’t want age to be just a number, I want all the experiences we’ve been through to add up to something” wrote Amy Rigby in a June 2024 newsletter. That sentiment resounds on Hang in There with Me, her latest album of tough, witty rock and roll. In “Hell-Oh Sixty” the loose, boisterous song that kicks it off, Rigby reviews in brief each decade of her, more or less, adult life: “30 was the best/30 was the worst/know I was blessed/thought I was cursed”; “50 didn’t fit/had to let out the seams.” The music has a spaciousness to match the timeline: jangling steel strings slide over martial drums while fuzzy synthesizers burst and Rigby repeats the title phrase. She sounds both invigorated and uneasy; a little bit triumphant and a little bit daunted by her arrival.

Lyrically, Hang in There with Me often speaks to the stacked layers of life; the emotional and material detritus we accumulate. What to do with it? How to build on top of it; where, even, to begin. One answer: wherever you are, that’s where to start. Or, as Rigby puts it in the sunny, biting kiss-off anthem “Bricks,” “I’m working on my future days…these bricks won’t lay themselves.” You hear that weary, still defiant tone again on “Too Old To Be So Crazy,” when she sings “I tried a thousand times to give it up/fall down and fuck it up/you can call it a victory/trust the mystery” and in the “Requiem” lines “try your whole life to make something that matters…doors don’t always open/that won’t stop you hoping.” Later, around the “Paint It Black”-ish progression of the latter, she raises the stakes on Neil Young’s longevity question, wondering whether it’s better to “fall apart” than “to burn out.” There’s no question of fading away when you have so much to sort through.

It’s appropriate, then, that the music is so textured and dimensional. “Too Old to Be So Crazy” is a good example. Coming in hot after “Hell-Oh Sixty,” we get yet more jangle; more ripping guitar; and, perhaps best of all, more squelchy-gorgeous synths. The use of electronics on the album is pronounced and varied, from the windy swirls and blinking bells of the wistful “O Anjali” to the scratchy fringes and reverse reverb of the unsettling character study “Bad In A Good Way.” Nearly haptic sounds like these constantly whir and bubble up around the album’s glammy grooves, complementing the sharp but unfastened playing – take, for instance, the heavy buzz that drives the chorus of “Dylan in Dubuque.” It all hangs together thanks to a lively, naturalistic mix. Rigby, with her spouse and recording partner “Wreckless Eric” Goulden, left in all the right mic-to-amp ambience. There’s enough room to hear everything going on but not so much that it isolates or chills the warmth of any given instrument. Even something like the compression effect on Rigby’s “Heart Is a Muscle” vocal feels lived in.

One of the least adorned songs is “Bangs,” a punky piece of garage pop that contains some of the record’s best lines. Which is saying something. Rigby the writer is, as usual, funny and cutting, casual yet precise, but it’s the conviction with which she lays down a couplet like “keep your Ann Taylor and Chico’s/I didn’t come here to play” in her burned-but-not-burned-out, scuffed diamond voice that makes her lyrics really stick. It’s her humor, too, that keeps an album so concerned with the existential pulls and shoves of life so grounded.

In that regard, “Last Night’s Rainbow,” the closer, is particularly effective. Rigby opened for Warren Zevon in the last years of his life and Hang in There with Me’s final song shares something of his comic grandiosity and tragic gravitas. She begins with “today is shit/today’s a bust…” and ends “...and I must hold on…’cause I sure would miss seeing you.” Here, like in so much of Zevon’s work, relentless joie de vivre shines through the bummers. Sure, life’ll kill ya, but you already knew that and Rigby does too, so what now? Hang in There with Me catalogs a lifetime of drags, uncertainties and disasters, but returns, again and again, to the people, moments and experiences that make it worthwhile, or bearable enough. The chuckle in her voice on “maybe there’s hope/’cause last night’s rainbow/that was dope” tells you everything you need to know. It all adds up.

Alex Johnson

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Twenty Three.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,207

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Bungalow Three of the Chateau Marmont. The last time she’d been there was six years before that coming September, her and Adrien checking in three days after they’d met, getting to know one another very intimately for the first time. On that particular afternoon of February twenty ninth, though, Jade was there sitting upon a highchair, having her brother-in-law paint her face immaculately, Jack’s skills as a makeup artist making him and her hair stylist brother Marco the perfect couple.  

“Does he even know you’ve changed your hair to this extent, sissy boo?” he asked, sliding the slim hair straighteners through Jade’s hair, the extensions he’d spent the previous afternoon affixing in shining beautifully.  

Sipping her iced coffee, she shook her head, receiving a stern look from Jack. “Miss lady! No moving while I set this concealer.” 

“Alright, calm your tits!” she cried, her assistant Kim laughing loudly from her place on the bed, welded to the telephone while receiving the logistics on when their car would arrive. “And no, he has no bloody idea and I’m quietly shitting myself. He’s never seen me anything other than blonde!” 

“And then you have your new little thingy in your mouth!” Jack exclaimed, Jade poking out her brand-new pierced tongue at him. She’d had it done in a moment of pure impulse two weeks before, and not seeing Adrien for three now, it’d be a double surprise for him. “Damned good for giving head, I can tell you! Lord, when your brother got his done, my dick did a happy dance!” 

Kim was in hysterics all over again, lying back on the bed hugging her sides. “Jack, you’re too much.” 

“Girl, trust me,” Marco spoke, working a comb through Jade’s hair, “my husband is just enough.” He then turned his attention to his sister. “How are those nerves, boo?” 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” she sighed, giggling a little. 

“As expected, Jade Lucia is at a level ten.”  

Ten thousand, more like. Just then, the door opened, revealing a sight she was glad to see, Adrien coming in and looking around.  

“Hey guys. Where’s my wife?” 

“Um, hi?” she spoke, waving, watching him shake his head. 

“You’re not my wife. You’re Morticia Addams.” He continued his searching of the room, before suddenly veering to kiss her. “Well, this’ll take some getting used to! Why the change?” 

“Fancied it,” she spoke, kissing him again. “Do you like it?” 

“I do.” His face then pinched with curiosity, poking her lips with his finger. “Hold up. Stick your tongue out.” She did, Adrien shaking his head as he laughed softly through his nose. “For god’s sake. Any other changes I gotta know about?” 

“Other than my blowjob game being amped up considerably? Nah, Bug. That’s it,” she grinned, sipping more of her coffee, her husband waiting until she’d released the straw to give her a kiss. 

“At least being married to you is never dull,” he spoke fondly, wheeling his suitcase across the room, pausing to receive a one-armed hug from his brother-in-law along the way. “I’m getting room service, I’m absolutely starving. Anyone want anything?” 

“Truffle fries, please, Ade!” Jack called, adding the faintest hint of peachy blush to Jade’s cheeks. 

“I’m good thanks, darling. I’m too nervous to eat.” 

Looking up at his wife, he then turned to Kim. “Please tell me she’s eaten something today, at least?” 

“Eggs benny this morning, but she’s been freaking out since midday,” her assistant confirmed. 

Placing the phone back down, he picked up the room service menu card. “Moo, at least eat something small?” 

Turning, she shook her head, poking out her bottom lip. “Can’t, honey. My tummy hurts. I’ll steal some of Jack’s fries if I can face them when they get here.” 

“Oh, the hell you will, sistah!” he exclaimed, laughing a little. 

“I’ll get two orders. It isn’t like Jack to pass up anything potato based if you can only manage a few,” he spoke with a wink, his brother-in-law aghast. “Oh, what’s with that face, man? You know damned well we have to buy in extra chips just for you to inhale when you guys come visit.” 

“Shaming me right in front of everybody! I haven’t eaten bread in seven years so I don’t have to give up my beloved potatoes, too!” 

Adrien shook his head, lifting the phone to his ear again. “That’s some LA diet bullshit right there, bro.”  

Once the food had arrived and duly been eaten, Adrien relieved to see Jade manage almost an entire plate of the fries herself, he went to change, Jade giving him a very approving one over with her eyes. Him in a well-tailored did things to her. After that, it was up to her, Marco and Jack to carefully get her into the slightly sheer, very long Alexander McQueen gown she’d borrowed for the event, scared to death of ripping it since the fabric was so fine and clingy.  

Beneath it, she wore a pair of black, glittery shoes with an enormous heel and platform, her black painted toes just about peeking out beneath the sheath of the long gown that flowed out behind her a little. 

As soon as she walked out, it was to her husband whistling the tune from the Addam’s Family, complete with finger clicks. “Looking sexy as hell, Morticia.” 

“Thank you,” she chuckled, picking up her perfume and giving herself a liberal spritz. “Okay, I think I’m ready. Honey, can I give you a couple of things to carry in your pocket? I don’t want to take a bag.” 

He nodded, Jade handing over her phone, lip balm and eyeliner, receiving kisses and wishes of all the good luck in the world from her little team before they ventured up to the hotel foyer, ready to meet her dad. It had been tough, attempting to choose which of her parents to bring with her, Gemma eventually taking the decision from her and deciding it on the fate of a coin toss. Steven had won. 

“Look at this, my daughter, the goth queen,” he greeted her with, chuckling. Of course, spending three days with her in LA prior to the awards, he’d seen her brand-new black hair, but the completed look was very striking. He too was so used to seeing her blonde, as she’d been for well over ten years.  

“Don’t you flippin’ start, too!” she chirped, jerking her head towards Adrien. “This one here is refusing to call me anything but bloody Morticia!” 

“Then this is all I shall call you as well,” he spoke, greeting his son-in-law with a hug. “You do look very lovely, though. Right then. Let’s get you onto that red carpet, hmm?” 

The Dolby Theatre was only an eleven-minute car ride away, but with the traffic and the timing of each car pulling up, it was half an hour until she was exiting the limo to a barrage of cheers, taking Adrien’s arm as she began walking up that aforementioned red carpet, still somewhat in disbelief that she was actually there at all.  

While they stood in front of the wall of cameras, their names called from all directions, Adrien lifted his chin, his eyes casting to her as his face lit up. By her side, he always stood his tallest, but now, it was with an extra gleam of pride. There she was, very possibly on her way to win her first Oscar, his wife, his best friend, his everything. Inside, he was elated, and it showed in the way he looked at her so adoringly. 

Being in the bungalow earlier, their last time there had come back to him, remembering it all just as if it had happened the day before, even though five and a half years and what felt like a couple of lifetimes had passed in the time between. He stood back to allow for her picture to be taken by herself, with her father as well, Steven being asked a few questions by reporters as Jade smiled and waved at the assembled crowd.  

“I’m a very proud dad, that’s for certain!” he spoke succinctly, kissing his daughter atop her head as she cuddled against him. A few more questions were asked by the press before they were ushered into the theatre and shown to the upper level, where celebrities mingled, and champagne was carried around on elegant trays by immaculately dressed wait staff. Jade was so nervous, she almost downed hers in one gulp.  

After a little mingling, they were shown into the auditorium itself and to their seats, the evening starting shortly after. There were two awards presented prior to best actress in a supporting role, but by the time it got there, she felt tingly and lightheaded. 

Her heart hammered like a drum as her co-nominees were read out by a very dapper looking Matthew McConaughey, Jamie Lee Curtis, Renee Zellweger, her, Scarlet Johansson and Reese Witherspoon. Nope. She’d never get it. All predictions were firmly on Jamie to scoop the award. She hadn’t even prepared a speech, so convinced she was that she would never beat such acting greats as the four other women she was up against.  

“And the Oscar goes to...” The envelope was opened, Matthew leaning towards the microphone with a smile. “Jade Burton-Brody.” 

Her soul left her body in that moment, her hands flying to her mouth in shock as Adrien threw his arms around her. “My baby love! You did it!”  

She’d won.  

She’d won? 

What?! 

“I’m so proud of you, monkey!” her dad spoke, his voice trembling with emotion as he kissed her cheek, Jade gathering her dress to make her way to the stage, turning back to them and mouthing “oh my bloody hell!” She then had a very rapidly moving Robert DeNiro arriving before her, hugging her tightly as he offered his congratulations and kissed her cheek before he held her arm and escorted her up the steps. It was an unprecedented, but lovely gesture from a man she was now lucky enough to count as a good friend.  

Walking across the stage, she was beyond elated, but still absolutely stunned to her bones as Matthew gave her a kiss and handed over her award, standing back to applaud her. Moving to the small lectern, she went to speak, no words coming out as her mouth dropped open, her face a hilarious picture of complete shock that had the entire theatre in hysterics as they continued to applaud her. Finally, she found her voice as the audience settled. 

“I have to give a speech, and I’m speechless. For those of you who know me, you know that this is not on brand for a woman with a mouth as big as mine,” she began, everyone bursting into laughter and gentle applause. Holding the golden statue, her hands shook, her eyes finding her husband, watching him nod. God, he looked so thrilled for her. Taking a deep breath, she continued, with tears pooling her eyes.  

“There are too many people to thank, honestly, way too many. From everybody who worked so tirelessly on the crew of our film, to the amazingly talented people I was so fortunate to co-star with. Robert, you became like a second father to me during filming, and I love and appreciate you so very much for your mentorship,” she continued, looking down to where the legendary actor sat, blowing him a kiss he returned, on his feet again while applauding.  

“I want to thank the Academy for even considering me in the first place, but most of all I want to thank my family for being so supportive and loving. My dad is right down there, daddy I love you so, so much.” Her voice broke, watching her dad beam, drying his eyes on the back of his hand. “Thank you for always believing in me and telling me I could be anything, just as long as I wasn’t a Republican.” 

The audience once again burst into laughter, Jade giggling through the tears that began to splash her cheeks. “And I want to thank the other most important man in my life, my amazing husband. Five years ago, I married a man whose faith in me has never wavered, whose love and support have meant more to me than any words I could try and reach for to thank him, and for that I am truly the most fortunate woman. I never thought I’d be standing up here accepting this.” She paused then, looking down at the statue in her hands, pointing to the plaque. “Oh, look at that. It says I beat Jamie.” 

The audience exploded, the laughter of Jamie Lee Curtis booming as she stood, leading another standing ovation from the crowd, her hands raised above her head as she applauded. The love, the acceptance from her peers, these people who were true acting greats, all cheering her success. She couldn’t believe that they truly saw her as one of them.  

How was this real? 

“Thank you, thank you all so much.” she finished, stepping away from the microphone to be escorted from the stage, still in a state of shock. Everything whirled around her in a blur, being congratulated, given a glass of champagne and a minute of calm to absorb her win.  

Standing there, being approached by well-wishers still, told how wonderful she was, her heart hammered in her chest, wishing that she had the support of her husband. She could have done with a hand to hold onto, if for nothing else but to steady her from feeling like she was about to faint.  

“I did it. Bloody hell.” she muttered, looking down at the statue in her hand. Her cheeks hurt from the width of her smile. A few minutes passed before she was ferried straight to the hotel next door for photographs and a brief Q&A with a gaggle of attending journalists. All the way through, she simply couldn’t believe it had happened to her, so thankful, stunned and bowled over that her career had reached such a peak as to have won an Oscar for her work.  

Since her award was presented so early in the night, she was escorted back to the theatre, taking her seat between Adrien and her dad once more.  

“You look like you might faint, Moo,” he spoke quietly, resting his hand on her thigh as she leaned into him, her other hand reaching for her dad’s grasp. 

“I need a Jack Daniel’s the size of my bloody head!” As soon as they arrived at the party afterwards, it was the first thing he put in her hand.  

“You!” she then heard, turning to see the very wide arms of one Ms. Jamie Lee Curtis approach, pulling her into a huge hug. “If I was going to lose to anyone, I am thrilled it was you. You were immaculate in that movie, simply brilliant. All my congratulations, sweetheart.”  

Again, there was her soul, clean leaving her body, a photographer taking a picture of them as she thanked Jamie for her grace, revealing she thought it was her who would have been standing in her place, hence her joke up there on the stage. She was the approached by two of her other co-nominees, both Reece and Scarlet offering their congratulations, followed by a slew of other very famous people.  

“There she is. There’s my adopted daughter.” He was man of the hour, Robert DeNiro winning best actor, their film also earning the coveted best picture and best original score awards, too, seeking her out to give her a big hug. “You raised one hell of a girl here, sir.” he then spoke warmly to her dad, shaking his hand. Her dad looked absolutely delighted, a few more photographs taken, Jade standing with her mouth hanging open when she was then approached by her absolute idol.  

“Congratulations, Jade. It’s fabulous to meet you and get a chance to say just how much I have admired your work.”  

Jessica Lange, grasping her hands and leaning to kiss her cheek. Jessica. Lange. There it was again, the feeling that she was about to faint, the great actress then leaning in close to whisper. “And I have to say, your taste in men is impeccable. Your husband is an absolute fox!”  

Adrien heard, snorting into his glass of champagne, Jade looking at him and then back at Jessica. “Isn’t he, though? And thank you so much, to have somebody I admire so greatly tell me that is mind blowing. Truly.”  

She nodded graciously. “Enjoy your night, darling.”  

With a few more people met, she began to feel overwhelmed, ducking out to the smoking area at the back of the hotel. She and Adrien mostly only social smoked those days, that night being one of the occasions Adrien had a pack on him.  

“How you feeling, baby love?” he asked, Jade standing fanning herself.  

“Still a bit... yeah... head is fried, innit!” she exclaimed, having him lean in to kiss her, her heels putting her just about as tall as him. “But you being right here is steadying. I needed you backstage, I was on the verge of a panic.” 

As he guessed as soon as he left the stage, sharing with his father-in-law that she was probably have a tiny internal meltdown. “I thought you might have been. You can breathe now, though, relax. It’s your night, you enjoy it.”  

And boy, how she did. Walking back in, she literally walked right into the open arms of someone who wasn’t just a fellow famous face, but a genuine friend. She and Norman Reedus had met while working on the same film many years before, striking up a firm friendship, Norman yelling with delight as he rocked her enthusiastically in a huge hug. 

“You fucking did it!” she shouted over the loud music, kissing her cheek. “I’m proud of you, bud!” 

“Thank you, babe!” she cried, returning the cheek kiss, being lifted up in his arms and swung around before he placed her down and greeted Adrien with a hug. The guys had met a long time before Jade had entered either of their lives, working on a film together in the late nineties while they’d both still been up and coming in their careers.  

While most people revelled in the party atmosphere until the very, very early hours, Jade called it a night at 1am, she and Adrien getting into a waiting car to be escorted back to the Chateau Marmont, her dad having left already at around midnight. 

“I still can’t believe this is mine,” she spoke, placing the little, but deceptively heavy little golden man down on the end table when they arrived in the bungalow, shaking her head in wonder. “Hey, shall we bookend them, yours and mine?” 

Adrien snorted a laugh, his hand rubbing a circle at her lower back. “Yeah, why not? Mine is already on the end of a shelf in the office anyway.” They were nowhere near so pretentious as to have their awards out on open show in their home, Adrien’s four and Jade’s one (her Primetime Emmy for her starring role in the TV series The Nobodies) all residing in their office. “So, do I have to help you get out of this dress, since it took two people to get you in it?” 

“Yes, but very carefully! No horny Brody gusto!”  

He winked, Jade moving her bum length curtain of hair for him to locate the hidden zip. “Alright, but I can’t promise I’m not gonna be the same when I get to your underwear.” They were both a little drunk, Adrien hiccupping as he carefully helped her inch her way out of the garment, wincing a little. After all, she’d told him earlier that night just how much it was worth, the couture piece a one-off design. Once the dress was off, she went to hang it back in its bag, Adrien doing the same with his suit as well before lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bed.  

Smouldering desire ran rich over the path his hands took, his kisses pressed hot onto her skin, ever descending as he dragged his thumb through her folds. She shook, his touch so perfect it made constellations glitter behind her closed eyelids, feeling her clit hood gently thumbed back as he made way for the deliciously hot roll of his tongue. 

“God, fuck.” she breathed, hands grasping at the linen beneath her, her bud bathed in firm, wet heat. He then took it away teasingly, those burning kisses of desire placed in ascension upon her thigh. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, his thumb returning in glide over her slit a few times in tease, his shuddered breath hitting her where she was pink and soft, her hands going to his hair.  

He nudged through her folds, seeking her clit, laying flat licks over it in a ceaseless whirl, groaning hungrily as he devoured her, hands gripping her bum, leaving crescents behind upon her pale fresh from the hard grasping, looking up at her, her head tilted back, beautiful lips agape. God, how he loved his wife to her very bones, and hell, how she aroused him right to the marrow of his.   

His tongue lapped at her quickly, without tease or pause, building her steadily, Jade feeling the sting of arousal prickling her insides as she began to pant. “Oh fuck, right there, ohhh!” she whined, his tongue moving over her clit speedily, his cock hardening. He wanted her so badly; he wasn’t content to wait a moment longer.  

Emerging, he turned her over, pushing against the streaming mess of her cunt and drawing a deep moan from her as he plunged between her walls, the sight of her mountains of dark hair splaying in cascade down her back more erotic than he bargained for. Sweeping those tresses aside, he leaned to swipe a long, slow lick up her spine, driving himself into her hard. 

“I’ve wanted this all damned night, with how sexy you looked, baby.” he grunted, breaching her so deeply, her cries filling the air. “Yeah, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it, honey? Wanted to get fucked nice and hard, huh?”  

He went about doing just that so efficiently, her response was unformed words, gasping as she cried out, Adrien arrowing into her so brutally, she felt like she was about to go right through the headboard she reached to grasp. She pulled herself out of it, though, turning to kiss him fiercely, moving to straddle his thighs and sink down on top of him. His arms wrapped around her, rolling his hips up against each of her downward movement, every inch of his thick shaft rutting her deeply with slow purpose before once more, he began pounding her with aggressive need. 

She whimpered in response to his voracity, nails tearing at his back, grasping in his hair, mouth at his neck before her mouth met his, kisses gilded in sugar coated embers, moaning against one another. His hands clutched at her bum, releasing to spank her hard, her teeth sharp at his neck as the molten hug of her cunt sent stars streaking through him.   

“Fuck, I love you,” he panted breathlessly, clutching her body tightly to his, wild heat roaring through them like a forest fire. 

“Love you too, honey.” she purred, tongue swiping his neck, kissing along his jaw until her mouth met his again, their kisses all smoky storm. The fever sizzled to bright burn, her nails tearing into his back as she arched against him, the neon of her undoing blazing across his sky as he bit her nipple, hips shunting his orgasm into her, spilling thick and deep into the fluttering velvet clenching around him.  

Their want would have had them all over one another for longer, but the tranquil bliss of their unravelling, the tiredness from such a high energy evening, and the copious amounts of alcohol had them asleep after a few moments of tender stroking and kissing, sleeping until late the following morning. When Adrien awoke, it was to the sight of Jade already awake, following her eyes over to the end table.  

“Still staring at the little golden fella, huh?”  

Her lips spread a beautiful smile, turning to sink into his arms. “Yep. I still can’t believe I won it.” 

Stroking her back, he kissed the top of her head. “You know, when I won, mom, dad and I went back to my rental place, and she said something that stayed with me. She said that there’d been three people in the room before, and now with my Oscar, there were four. I revert to mom’s words here. There’s three people in the room.” 

Looking up at him, she laughed softly, remembering the story from when Lois herself had told it to her a few years before. Except in this instance. Adrien wasn’t correct when he stated there were three people in the room, because there weren’t. 

As of the early hours of that morning, there were four.  

[sparlax]

I keep having a reoccuring dream regarding me being part of some strange Mr. Beast style challenge heavily based off "Nasubi" (The Japanese man who was locked in his apartment for a year and was broadcast live 24/7 and did challenges for rewards). I will go into exruciating detail about this below. Long post

If anything the dream is conistant with it's setting and theme. It always starts with the frightening scenario in which I win a raffle (?) and then I am taken to ride in a bus/car blindfolded. When I arrive I am still blindfolded but I can hear the Mr. Beast-type figure talking into the cameras, presumably starting the video. In that moment I am usually afraid because I am unsure about what is going to happen next. Now, I presume that the second act of this dream series is mostly the result of my dream to have a place of my own. Because the challenge the Mr. Beast-type man imposes on me is.. to live in a cave for as long as possible. The reward increasing not by each day, week or even month. No, this guy is twisted. He is amping up the cash reward by each YEAR spent dwelling inside this cave.

Obviously, because this man is based off of the concept of Mr. Beast he isn't a cruel sicko mastermind. I vividly remember the details of this cave and will demonstrate a diagram that I drew in mspaint describing what the layout of this cave looked like.

As you can see, there is a lot going on here. I'll try to explain most of what you see right now. Firstly, food. From outside the cave, full meals would be dispensed through this vent-like tube onto a wooden table. They would be shrinkwrapped in plastic and highly nutritious of course. I would be getting my water from the bathing area from a spigot. For some odd reason I dont recall ever having a cup to drink out of so I would just use my hands. I also remember the food tube having bars on it, probably so that I could not stick my arms inside or jam it?

Secondly, the sunbathing area. Living within the cave would certainly bring about a lot of health risks so I guess I just had an area where I would lie flat on my stomach and soak up the sun while I read a book or something. In every version of this dream this area was always in the center of the room. A circular glass hole was created so that the sun's rays could shine through. It was also my only way to see the outside world. I would sleep upon the carpet/futon as well.

Thirdly, the recreation area. Not much to be said about this. I only was allowed to read books and create art in this scenario. I remember having a whole bookshelf of all kinds of books that looked interesting. I am unsure if I'd get new books if I managed to read through them all or not.

Fourthly, cameras. Similar to Nasubi, nearly every point of interest (aside from the bathroom for obvious reasons) was constantly filmed by a set of 3-4 large cameras. They probably got power from the sun or something.

The reception of this series was mixed. Part of the dream's perspective would switch between myself inside the cave and that of an onlooker watching youtube commentary guys talk about the impact of the (presumably) ongoing series. Every talking point you can gather from the Nasubi saga was repeated here. At peak watching times the website hosting the live feed would have around 10k viewers (usually whenever I was awake). Views would dip whenever I would be asleep.

Interactions with the outside world were pretty uncommon since I had no way to read the chat or contact the host. I do recall sometimes having a very hot pepper deployed as the day's snack but otherwise it was oddly calm. After a while I stopped caring about the fact that I was being broadcast and just fell into a routine. The dream would always end on the perspective of the onlooker watching the livestream of myself. All in all its a mixed bag of feelings I cannot put a name on if I tried. Thats all for now.

[illuminatedquill]

Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger

Hands, Ready To Bleed

Story Summary: Adjusting to living together on Lothal, Sabine and Ezra are finally moving forward with their lives - and their new relationship - during this hard-won era of peace. However, the annual memorial to commemorate the Battle of Lothal approaches, leading to the revelation of a secret that Ezra has long been hiding from Sabine.

"It's just a rehearsal," Sabine Wren said soothingly to her long-time partner, Ezra Bridger. "Nothing to worry about."

The rehearsal was on the main tower of Capital City, held on the platform where the Wall of Heroes was located. Overhead, the skies were a dazzling blue with only small wisps of clouds overhead to pass by. Below, the streets of Capital City were buzzing with life and business, but a few small groups of onlookers were watching the rehearsal for the annual memorial to commemorate the Battle of Lothal with interest.

And for good reason; Ezra Bridger, the legendary hero and Jedi who saved the planet - and defeated Thrawn, twice, a new recent achievement to further add to his renown - was finally attending. It stood to reason that the crowds this year were going to be enormous, people flocking to the city just for a glimpse of their hero.

Ezra smoothed down the front of his outfit for the umpteenth time; through the Force, she could sense his nervousness, coming through in spikes of tense energy. Sabine had opted to dress in casual clothes for the rehearsal; flight jacket, red tunic, combat pants and boots. Ezra was wearing an what Sabine liked to call 'rogues' attire; a dashing scarlet tunic, midnight blue vest, striped military pants, and thigh-high boots that were shined to perfection.

"If you say so," he said with false cheer. He flashed a smile at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. The normally bright, piercing blue eyes of Ezra Bridger were clouded over with worry . . . and something else.

Something darker.

Sabine frowned and probed the edges of Ezra's mind, seeking the truth behind his false cheer -

"Sabine! There you are." It was Governor Azadi, an old friend. He waded through the crowd, resplendent in his politician's attire complete with a dashing cape. "Need you for a moment."

Sabine cast a worried glance at Ezra. "Ezra, if you're not feeling up to this - "

He shook his head. "I'm alright."

Ezra stared ahead at the crowd surrounding them. "I have to be," he muttered.

Sabine reached out and gave Ezra's hand a reassuring squeeze. He squeezed it back and nodded at her. "I'll be right back, okay?" she said.

Azadi led Sabine away and then discreetly nodded towards a corner of the platform. She stole a glance in the direction -

And let out a curse. It was Senator Xiono, idling by himself with a half-empty flute of wine in one hand; he was dressed impeccably, as always, but there was a sleepless look to his face - and there was no mistaking the cold, hard rage radiating from his eyes.

He was staring at Ezra.

Sabine turned to Azadi. "What's he doing here?" she hissed at him.

Azadi held up his hands in a placating gesture, a grimace on his weathered face. "He wasn't invited, I assure you. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

Xiono had long been a pain in the Senate Oversight Committee towards the fledgling New Jedi Order and their allies but that had been exacerbated since Thrawn's re-emergence and subsequent campaign to revive the Empire. Xiono's world had been brutally bombarded by Thrawn's fleets; rumor had it that his wife was still recovering in intensive care, and that his only child, a son named Kaz, had barely escaped, as well.

He had long been suspicious of Ezra's sudden reappearance coinciding with Thrawn's, but the details of his time stranded on Peridea were still kept a secret. Xiono, however, had only amped up his scrutiny of Ezra since Thrawn's defeat; it was clear that he had a personal vendetta against Ezra, whom he believed had abandoned his duty as a Jedi in letting Thrawn live.

"Ryder, he's going to start trouble with Ezra," Sabine warned. "He needs to be kicked out."

Azadi sighed. "I can't just kick out a Senator, Sabine. Look, I've got Jai Kell baby-sitting him for the moment. I'll run interference, too. You and Ezra just do your speeches and then you can high-tail it out of here."

Sabine pursed her lips, thinking of Ezra's unusual mood. She watched Senator Jai Kell talking animatedly with Senator Xiono; the latter was barely responding to the conversation, his eyes still trained on Ezra.

She came to a decision. "Let me talk to Ezra, see what he thinks."

Azadi nodded. "Very well."

Sabine walked back to her partner. "Ezra, Senator Xiono is here."

He was looking at his note-cards, reading over his speech. "What?"

"Look," said Sabine. "If you want to go, no one will blame you, okay? It won't be the first ceremony you missed."

Ezra considered that for a moment. Then he said, "No, I need to do this. The city's been waiting for me. I can't let them down."

His face was composed, but through the Force his thoughts and feelings were all over the place. Sabine grabbed his arm.

"Ezra," she pleaded. "I know you're not feeling up to this. I can sense it."

He shook his arm free. "It doesn't matter what I feel," he responded flatly. "This is what's expected of me."

Azadi called to them. "Ezra! Sabine! It's time to make your speeches."

Sabine and Ezra exchanged a long look. Finally, he shook his head and offered another one of those fake smiles she hated so much and offered his arm to her.

With reluctance, Sabine slid her own through his and they walked up to the stage together.

When the rehearsal finished, they stepped down from the stage; Sabine stayed close to Ezra, keeping an eye on him.

Amazingly, he had done well; his speech had generated quite the applause, with equal parts humor and heart-felt gratitude. However, she could feel that ominous darkness still swirling through her partner's emotions: fear and anxiety blending together and spiking like adrenaline when the fireworks went off at the end.

She watched him close his eyes tight at the blasts. All Sabine could do was just hold his hand with all the strength she could muster.

But he had made it through and she could finally breath a sigh of relief -

A tremor through the Force. Danger, close by -

Sabine moved to place herself in front of Ezra but it was too late. Wine splashed into Ezra's face, thrown from a flute in anger. The crowd gasped.

Senator Xiono stood there, flute empty, his eyes sparkling with glee and malice.

Sabine knocked the flute out of his hands. "I think you've had too much to drink, Xiono," she said coldly.

Azadi came up behind the Senator and grabbed his arm. Two security guards flanked him. "Come with me, Senator," he said. "Let's not make a scene here."

Senator Xiono shrugged free of Azadi's grasp and stepped closer to Sabine and Ezra. "Ten years," he hissed. "You were on that Force-forsaken planet with him for ten years. And you did nothing."

From behind her, Sabine could sense the anxiety spike within Ezra. That ominous cloud of darkness swirling within him began to grow like a thunderhead.

"Traitor!" Senator Xiono bellowed. "My world - my family - bombed to rubble because you abandoned your duty! What use is that power you wield if it's not used to protect the people who need it? The people who are depending on you?"

Sabine shoved him backwards. "That's enough!" she shouted. "Ryder, get him out of here!"

"Guards!" barked Azadi. "Take the Senator away - "

Pain like she had never felt before cleaved into Sabine's head like an ice pick; grief, despair, guilt were forged into the tip. She doubled over, gasping for breath; her heart felt like it was beating a million miles per minute.

Through the corner of her eye, she saw others do the same: crying out in pain, clutching their heads. She heard Azadi yelling something, but couldn't make it out through the howl erupting inside her skull.

It was coming from behind her, she realized.

It's coming from Ezra.

Gritting her teeth, summoning her reserves of energy, she began the daunting task of putting up the mental shields Ahsoka, her master, had taught to protect herself from a psychic attack like this. It was agonizing minutes but, finally, she was shielded enough to stand up and face Ezra.

He was standing still upright, unlike the others; his hands were clutching at his temples. His eyes were shaking, unfocused; Sabine could hear him struggling to regulate his breath, coming in fast, harsh gasps.

In her head, she could hear his thoughts echoing a single word over and over again like a mantra: Starbird.

Starbird. Starbird. Starbird.

Ezra was having a panic attack. His feelings were leaking through the Force and into the surroundings - and the people, also.

Oh, Ezra. Oh, my love.

She staggered towards him and reached trembling hands to his face. "Ezra?" she asked. "Ezra, it's me. It's Sabine. Can you hear me?"

He couldn't see her; his eyes remained unfocused. All around her, the people in attendance were screaming, crying out.

"Ezra! It's Sabine. Please, just focus on me, okay? I'm here. You're safe, it's okay!"

At last, her words broke through. His eyes, still shaking, began to focus on her. "Sabine? S-Sabine? I - I c-can't stop, I'm s-so sorry."

Starbird. Starbird. Starbird.

She took one of his hands and placed it on her heart. "Just breathe, okay? It's okay, just breathe like this." And she breathed, slow and deep, in tune with her heart.

Someone screamed. Ezra's concentration broke, his breathing worsening -

No! Sabine grabbed his face and forced it towards her, pouring all the feelings of calm and peace and love she could muster through their bond in the Force. "Look at my face, Ezra, please. Just focus on me. It's just you and me. Breathe - breathe."

Ezra's breathing began to slow. His eyes began to focus and lose their trembling.

Starbird. Starbird.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," he whispered back. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He sagged to the floor in exhaustion. Sabine held him close, making sure he didn't outright collapse.

And, all at once, the pounding in her skull disappeared. The crying and screaming around her disappeared in an instant; the audience members began to rouse themselves to their feet, blinking in confusion at what had just occurred.

From behind her, she heard Azadi groan and look towards them.

"Sabine, what - "

"Later," she said curtly. "Get me a medic, now."

Ahsoka arrived hours later to find Sabine pacing in the hallway outside Ezra's hospital room.

"How is he?" asked her former master.

Sabine just hugged her in response. Ahsoka hugged her back, tightly, and then released her.

"That bad, huh?" she asked.

Sabine let out a shaky laugh. "I've never seen him like that," she said. "It scared me so much."

Ahsoka clapped her on the shoulder. "Panic attacks can be like that. You did well, from what I heard."

Sabine sat down on the hallway's bench. "I should never have let him stay there. I knew something was wrong with him."

Ahsoka considered her for a moment. "Has Ezra ever shown signs of this before?"

Sabine cocked her head, thinking. "No, not that I can think of. But we haven't been to the city much since we got back."

Her master raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Just holing up in that watchtower of yours?"

Sabine avoided Ahsoka's knowing gaze, feeling her cheeks begin to heat up. "Yeah, you know . . . just resting. Relaxing."

"Hmmm," said Ahsoka. "Not resting too much, I hope. Keeping up with your training?"

"Of course," replied Sabine innocently. "Ezra and I have a sparring session every day."

Ahsoka peered at her. "Oh, I'm sure you two have plenty of physical activities to keep busy. I'm just not sure it's sparring."

Sabine shrugged. "We're getting a good work-out, regardless."

Ahsoka snorted. "Oh, I have missed you, my Padawan."

Sabine grinned at her, before sobering. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

"For taking my mind off this," Sabine said. "I feel much better now."

Ahsoka smiled in reply. Sabine patted the seat next to her, and her master sat down.

After a while, Sabine quietly said, "He's hiding something from me. When he was having his episode, I could hear his thoughts. A single word, repeated over and over again."

"What word?" asked Ahsoka.

Sabine looked at her master. "Starbird."

The older Jedi was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Do you remember all the starbirds we found painted on Peridea?"

"Yeah. There was a ton of them, if I recall. Ezra painted them everywhere."

"It's your personal symbol, Sabine. Do you know why he painted so many?"

She thought about it for a second. "No. No, I don't."

Ahsoka turned to look at her. "Has Ezra ever told you about his time on Peridea?"

Sabine shook her head. "I didn't want to push."

Ahsoka sighed. "I think it's time you both had that talk, then."

Sabine asked, "Did he tell you about it?"

"Some of it."

"Oh," was all Sabine said. "He didn't tell me, though."

"Why do you think that is, Sabine?" asked her master.

"I don't know," replied Sabine, frustrated. "I'm his partner. I love him. We're not supposed to keep secrets from each other."

"Have you told him everything about your life experiences while he was stranded on Peridea?"

Sabine blinked. "Well . . . no. That's not important."

"Was it easy for you?"

Sabine looked down at her hands. "You know it wasn't."

"But you never talked to him about it."

Sabine crossed her arms. "It . . . it never came up."

Ahsoka gazed at her and said softly, "How can you expect Ezra to be open about his hardships if you do not do the same?"

"He never asked," Sabine shot back. "And even if he did, I don't want him to know about all of it."

"Why not?" asked Ahsoka.

"Because - because it would make him feel bad. I don't want him to feel that way, especially because of me; it's clear he's got enough on his plate, as it is."

Ahsoka laughed. "What's so funny?" asked Sabine suspiciously.

She shook her head, shoulders shaking from the mirth. "You two really are quite the pair," she said, eyes sparkling.

Realization dawned in Sabine. "You think he feels the same way," she said.

"I know he does," responded Ahsoka seriously. "He would do anything for you. Just like you would for him."

She looked at her directly. "Including hiding away the pain you feel from each other. Because you would rather suffer alone, instead of - from your point of view - forcing each other to bear that additional pain."

Sabine huffed out a breath and leaned back against the wall. "Great. So we have to talk."

She grimaced. "I'm not good at that. He's hurting, I can tell. How do I get him to open up?"

Ahsoka arched an eyebrow. "How do you get someone to show their scars?"

Sabine nodded.

Her master smiled and said, "By showing yours."

Ahsoka spoke with Ezra for a few minutes, promising to show him special Force techniques to help ward off future panic attacks when he felt better before departing with a nod to Sabine.

The ride home was quiet. Sabine kept sneaking glances at her partner, but Ezra's face didn't betray anything except for exhaustion after his ordeal.

Once inside the watchtower, Ezra flopped onto the couch and leaned his head back, eyes closed.

Sabine busied herself with making drinks: two mugs of hot chocolate, their favorite.

Okay. Time to be brave. For Ezra.

She brought them over and offered one to him before sitting down. Ezra mumbled a thanks and took a sip.

Sabine watched him carefully, fingers tapping on her mug.

"Was anyone hurt?" he asked wearily.

Other than you? she wanted to ask. Instead, she replied, "Nothing serious. Some bumps and scrapes."

Ezra nodded. She reached out and touched his shoulder.

He flinched away from her touch. Sabine set down her mug, braced herself, and gently reached to her partner's face, turning it towards her.

Ezra was crying; tears streamed down his cheeks, glistening in the watchtower's lighting.

She felt her heart twist with grief at the sight. Forcing a steady calm into her voice that Sabine did not feel, she asked, "What's wrong, Ezra? Tell me what's wrong."

He shook his head miserably.

Show him your scars.

Sighing, Sabine stood up and began to take off her shirt.

Ezra's eyes popped open in an almost comical fashion. "Sabine - what are you doing?" he asked.

Blushing furiously, she just said, "Hush. I'm doing a thing. We're going to talk about this."

"Sabine, you drive me mad with desire, but if this is an attempt to cheer me up, then I'm not really in the mood."

The shirt came free and she tossed it onto the floor, her modesty only covered by the sports bra underneath her shirt. Ezra inhaled sharply, taking her in.

Sabine sat back down, grabbed Ezra's hand before he could protest, and placed it over the scar on her abdomen. The one she had gotten from her ill-fated first duel with Shin from what felt like a lifetime ago.

His look became questioning. "Your scar. The one you never talk about."

Grimacing, Sabine said, "Yeah. I'm changing that now. You have questions, ask them."

Ezra blinked at her. "Okay, then - obvious first: where'd you get this from? I always assumed it was during the war."

"It wasn't from the war against the Empire. I received this before I came to get you on Peridea. I had the map to find you; Shin - you remember her - came to take it from me, on orders from her master, Baylon."

Sabine closed her eyes, remembering the events of that night. The giddy elation from finally finding the way to Ezra. The sudden attack from the assassin droids. Shin, cloaked and menacing, advancing on her with a scarlet blade.

"We fought. I lost," she whispered bitterly.

She felt the heavy gaze from Ezra settling on her. "Shin stabbed you," he said softly.

Sabine opened her eyes and looked directly at Ezra. "She didn't just stab me, Ezra. She killed me. I died that night."

"What? But - you're here. You can't have died."

Sabine smiled a little. "Well, yeah, goober. Ahsoka saved me. But I was clinically dead when she arrived."

She shivered, remembering the sensation of dying. "Do you know what it's like to be stabbed by a lightsaber, Ezra?"

"No," he replied.

"The blade is made from pure plasma," Sabine continued. "It's agony at first; a burning like you've never felt before. Like a small sun blooming inside of you. And then - nothing. Because the lightsaber cauterizes the wound."

She placed her hand over Ezra's, still covering her scar. "You can't repair a lightsaber wound. They filled it up with synthetic tissue, but I don't feel anything there anymore. Not even through the Force."

Ezra just looked at her, his eyes unreadable. "There's an emptiness I carry around with me, everyday. It will never go away. All because I got careless," Sabine finished.

"Sabine . . ."

"Do you know what the worst part of it was, Ezra? It wasn't the pain or the dying; it was the guilt. It was the remorse and the feeling that I had failed you. That I wouldn't be able to fulfill my promise in bringing you home."

After a long moment, Ezra asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sabine drew in a shaky breath. "Because I didn't want to scare you away."

Ezra's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Scare me away?"

"The years without you . . it was rough, okay? You know about some of it. But not everything. I felt that if you saw how messed up I was - I thought you would be disappointed. That I wasn't the Sabine you knew and loved anymore."

Sabine searched Ezra's face for a sign or hint of what he was feeling, but he betrayed nothing.

"Ezra," she said quietly. "Say something. Please."

He let out a breath. "Okay. I guess we're doing this then."

Ezra held up a finger. "First - I would never think that about you, do you understand? Nothing you do would ever change my feelings, Sabine."

Sabine blinked back tears. "Okay."

"Good," he said firmly. "So . . . ask away. Your turn now."

"Starbird," she said at once. "What was that?"

Ezra winced. "Oh, you heard that."

"Hard not to, considering it was being screamed in my head," she replied. "It's my symbol. What does it mean?"

Ezra looked away from her, eyes focused on the ceiling. "Ahsoka talked to you about my time on Peridea?"

"She only mentioned that you spoke about some of it to her," said Sabine, a hint of accusation in her tone. "But you didn't say anything about it to me, your partner. Why?"

"For the same reason you didn't tell me about the origin of your scar," Ezra replied tersely.

Sabine was surprised. "What aren't you telling me, Ezra? You spent all that time hiding from Thrawn, it's nothing to be ashamed about - "

"I wasn't just hiding from Thrawn!" Ezra shouted. "I was working with him!"

Silence hung thickly in the watchtower after that outburst. Sabine stared, in shock.

"You - what? Why?"

Ezra still kept his eyes locked on the ceiling. When he spoke, it was in a small voice, barely more than whisper. "Because I wanted to go home."

He snorted. "Senator Xiono was right. I am a traitor."

Reflexively, Sabine reached out to grab his hand. He didn't yank it away this time; a reassuring sign. "That's not true. I know it isn't."

Ezra finally turned to look at her, his eyes sorrowful. "Isn't it?" he asked. "I collaborated with a known enemy of the New Republic."

"Tell me," Sabine urged. "Tell me everything. I know it's hard, but I need you to be brave for me. Please."

Ezra's eyes widened, his reaction through the Force buzzing with shock and recognition at what she just said. Sabine didn't know why, but her statement had affected him badly on some fundamental level.

Ezra stared at her for what felt like an endless stretch of seconds. Then he closed his eyes and began to speak, each word carefully uttered, as though he were afraid it would break something vital in him . . . or maybe her.

"He came for me, Sabine. Thrawn came for me, in the dead of night. I thought, "This is it. This is how I die.'"

A twisted smile came on his face. "It was so much worse. Dying would have been preferable."

Sabine felt her stomach twist at Ezra's words, but she forced herself to stay still and just listen.

"He knew my weakness. I was cut off, far, far away from home. It's easy to be brave when you have people to be brave for, did you know? I had you, Hera, Zeb, Chopper, and Kanan. All of you propped me up. Gave me purpose. Gave me courage."

"But that was gone now. I survived . . . and so did he. We were trapped, together. And we had nothing but time."

Ezra's voice was soft, toneless, completely empty of humanity. It was awful to hear him talk like that. She never wanted to hear Ezra speak like that ever again.

"I was alone. Alone again. And he offered me a choice: a partnership, to help each other go home. He needed me, and I needed him."

"The Great Mothers," Sabine whispered. "The witches."

Ezra nodded. "He needed a Force user to wake them up. We wake them up, force an alliance, and they get us a connection back in our home galaxy."

"Morgan Elsbeth." The witch who had been a close associate of Thrawn's and single-handedly orchestrated his return.

"I refused him, at first. So much had been sacrificed to ensure that he could never threaten the Rebellion ever again. It was my duty, as a Jedi. That was the choice I made when I left, and I wanted to stick by it until the end. I told him to just shoot me instead."

Ezra went quiet. Sabine, swallowing hard, asked, "What did he do?"

"He did as I asked. He shot me. Oh, not enough to kill me. But enough to hurt. And then he did something strange."

Sabine felt like she was going to be sick. "Strange?" she asked, almost not recognizing her voice; it sounded so weak, so raspy.

He nodded. "Strange. I thought so at first. He healed me. Ordered his men to take me to the med bay. Stuck me in a bacta tank. When I was all fixed, they brought me back to him."

No. Oh, no. She'd heard stories of Imperial interrogations; the torture. Sabine knew where this was heading.

Cold fury seeped into her heart; if if weren't for Thrawn already being dead, she would have flown out right then and there to do the deed herself.

"He asked me again to work with him. I said no. He shot me again. His men took me to the med bay. I healed. And then they brought me to him, again. Rinse and repeat."

"How long?" she asked.

Ezra cocked his head, thinking. "A week, I think. I lost track of the time."

He shrugged. "I accepted his offer. We woke up the Great Mothers."

"Ezra . . ." Sabine was at a loss for words.

"I'm not done, yet," he interrupted. "There's more."

She opened her mouth and then shut it quickly.

"There was a moment, you see. The Great Mothers were, shall we say, grumpy after being awoken from their long nap. They attacked us; used their magicks to turn Thrawn's men against each other. It was a bloodbath. I found myself fighting back to back with the Grand Admiral himself."

"And then they had him. He was going to die, I could see it."

She could feel his anxiety, his panic spiking through the Force. Sabine reached out and grabbed his hand, sending calming, soothing feelings through their bond.

Ezra's breathing, which had been growing labored, began to smooth out. He looked at her and said, "Thanks."

She didn't say anything, not trusting her voice to come out steady.

"What did you do?" Sabine asked, after taking a moment to compose herself.

Ezra smiled bitterly. "I saved his life. The Jedi in me refused to let him die. Even after all that he did."

His eyes were haunted as he continued: "And you want to know how he repaid me? He hunted me down. After saving his life, calming the witches - turns out they wanted to leave Peridea as much as we did. He didn't need me anymore."

"I ran, Sabine. I ran so fast, so far. If the Noti hadn't found me, I would have died from the injuries. That would have been it."

Sabine became conscious that her grip on Ezra's hand was tightening into a vise. She loosened it.

"He took everything from me. My bravery, my belief in my purpose as a Jedi. My family. I had nothing left. Thrawn exposed me for what I really was; just a dumb, scared kid who was in way over his head."

"That's not true." Sabine's voice was heated, saying the words. "You did more than anyone else had accomplished in the Rebellion. You saved everyone on Lothal. You gave us hope!"

Ezra just looked at her, a lop-sided smile appearing on his face. "Gave you all too much hope. Should have saved some for myself."

"You kept fighting, though. You survived the worst of what he had to offer."

"I only made it through because of you, Sabine. Because you told me to keep fighting."

Sabine frowned at him, confused. "I wasn't there though?"

Ezra's smile this time was serene. "You're always with me. Wherever I am."

He pointed at one of the patches on her jacket; the patch with her customized symbol, the one she always wore.

The starbird. Starbird.

Starbird.

"The painted starbirds," realized Sabine. "All over Peridea."

Ezra nodded. "A reminder to myself. You - Sabine Wren - have always been the symbol of victory to me. The symbol of undaunting perseverance in the face of overwhelming odds. I couldn't draw you, though; I don't have your talent. But I could manage your starbird, at the very least."

Sabine said, "Oh."

"On the bad days, I drew the starbirds whenever I could. Partly to annoy Thrawn, who I knew was still watching out for me. But mostly for myself. If I closed my eyes at night, I could imagine you there, telling me to keep fighting. To be brave."

Tell me everything. I know it's hard, but I need you to be brave for me.

"So, I did. I held on. For as long as I could. But I knew Thrawn was still planning to go home. I had to make up for what I failed to do. I could hear his ships, his men, still moving about. Making preparations."

He was shaking now. Coming to the end of his long, sad tale.

"I couldn't wait anymore. I could at least maybe do some serious damage; delay him a little. I made a promise to you - the you in my head, I mean - that I would still be here when you came to find me, but I - I had to make it right. I had to finish what I started. I had to fight, like you were telling me. To be brave."

"It was a suicide mission. But I had to do it. So, one morning, I made my plan and I exited my hut to say good-bye to the Noti."

He let loose a laugh, half-crazed in its sound. "And then you wouldn't believe what I saw."

"What was it?" asked Sabine quietly.

"You," he said. He was looking right at her, his blue eyes piercing. "I saw you standing there. Like a dream, or a vision."

The day I arrived, Sabine realized.

"I thought I was going crazy. I thought it wasn't real or a vision from the Force. I had to say something, anything, to see if you were really there."

I knew I could count on you.

"And then you turned around and you gave me this smile - and I knew it was really you. You had come to save me. Sabine Wren, you crossed galaxies to save me."

Sabine cupped Ezra's cheek gently. "I made you a promise, Ezra Bridger."

He leaned into her touch. "You did. You kept it. I don't know if I kept mine, though. I don't know how much was left of me to save."

Oh, Ezra. Sabine's heart cracked and cracked, seeing Ezra's despair.

She held out her arms and enveloped him into a hug. It was all she could do; all she could think of, in this moment, to keep the person she loved from breaking any further.

"The Sabine in your head," she said softly. "Is she still telling you to fight? To be brave?"

Ezra nodded.

"Then let me tell her to shut up. You've done enough fighting. You can rest now, Ezra. You can rest."

Ezra let out a muffled laugh. "You might want to speak a little louder. She's pretty stubborn."

"Ezra. Stop talking and let me just hug you."

"Okay."

They called Ahsoka the next morning, to tell her of Ezra's decision.

Ahsoka, via hologram, looked at them both, considering their words. "You're certain?" she asked.

Ezra nodded. "If it's alright with you."

The older Jedi smiled. "Of course it is. Take all the time you need, Ezra. You'll be missed, but we'll manage."

Sabine squeezed his hand affectionately and smiled. "Told you she would understand."

After Ezra's break last night, he and Sabine had discussed what was best for him - and for them - late into the night. Finally, they had both come to the same conclusion.

Ezra needed a break. To take time for himself and figure out what he really wanted. For so long, the war and being a Jedi had taken up much of his life. Thrawn had damaged his image, stripped away all that he held dear.

For now, Ezra just wanted to know what it meant to be Ezra Bridger again. Not the Rebel, not the hero, not the Jedi - just Ezra.

And that meant stepping away from all of it.

"I really appreciate it, Ahsoka. And I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No apologies from you. You've done more than enough. And believe me, I understand what it means to walk away from the Order. Whatever decision you come to, should you return or not, you have my full support."

Ezra looked at Sabine. "Will you be okay without me?"

Sabine patted his head. "I did just fine without you for ten years, goober."

"You got stabbed by Shin and almost died."

Ahsoka snorted. Sabine glared at him. "It was one time," she muttered. "I almost die one time and suddenly everyone gets so protective."

"I'll be fine, Ezra. Galaxy's in good hands, don't you worry. And Ahsoka will be there; it'll be just like old times. Master and apprentice."

Ahsoka eyed her apprehensively. "I hope it won't be too much like old times. Perhaps you'll be actually listening to what I ask of you?"

Sabine shrugged. "Where's the fun in that? Need to keep things lively in your old age."

Ahsoka sighed. "You will be dearly missed, Ezra," she re-stated.

Ezra laughed. Ahsoka smiled and said, "I'll check on you again later, Ezra. May the Force be with you, until we meet again. In better spirits."

Ezra bowed his head at the older Jedi. "May the Force be with you, too, Ahsoka."

Ahsoka nodded at Sabine in farewell and then cut the call.

Ezra stood up, stretched, and held out his hand to Sabine. "Step outside for some fresh air?"

"Sure." She followed him out to the balcony.

The morning was crisp and clear; a gentle breeze sighed through the tall fields of grass. They both leaned against the railing, gazing out at Capital City, glinting brightly in the rising sun.

"What will you do now?" asked Sabine.

Ezra shrugged, smiling a little. "I don't know. Feels kind of nice, not to know what comes next."

He reached out and held her hand. "Promise me you'll stay? You won't leave?"

Sabine, surprised, asked, "Why would I leave?"

"Because . . . because I'm not who I was anymore. The Ezra you loved; the hero, the Jedi. I don't know where he is."

She turned to face him fully. "Ezra. I don't care if he ever comes back. I'm here with you, whoever you decide that is. I crossed galaxies to be with you; you doing some self-reflection isn't going to scare me away."

Any doubts he had cleared away from his eyes when she spoke. He leaned his head against hers. "Thank you, Sabine."

"Anything for you, Ezra."

They stayed like that for a few minutes before Ezra spoke again.

"I'm thinking of trying modeling, you know? Huyang was mentioning the other day that I had 'impeccable' good looks and I have been getting offers in the mail from some big name companies - "

Sabine punched him in the arm. Ezra laughed, rubbing at the spot.

A call came through on Sabine's com-link. She checked; it was Governor Azadi.

She clicked it on. "Sabine?" he asked.

"I'm here. What's up?"

"Just wanting to know the status of you and Ezra for the ceremony?"

Ezra opened his mouth, but Sabine put a finger up to silence him.

"What's the status of Senator Xiono? He still got an invitation?"

Azadi chuckled. "Nope. I chucked his ass on the nearest freighter and sent Senator Organa a message about the stunt he pulled. I suspect she's tearing him a new one right about now."

"Good," Sabine replied firmly. She looked to Ezra.

"Tell him we'll be there," he said.

Sabine felt her eyebrows raise up in surprise. Ezra just shrugged.

"We'll be there," she said to Azadi.

"Excellent! I'll see you there. Azadi out."

Still looking questioningly at Ezra, she asked, "Are you sure?"

He smiled and said, "I can pretend to be the hero for one more day."

Sabine felt her heart squeeze at the sight of his smile. Already, she could she his old spark returning; signs of life and healing.

You're still you, she thought. You and Thrawn thought it had been beaten out of you. But you're both wrong.

She smiled back at him and turned to head inside the watchtower. "Guess we better get ready for the ceremony, then."

"Hang on a minute, Sabine."

She turned back to him. "What is it?"

"I, uh. I had another question for you. If you don't mind."

There was such an awkward earnestness to his expression. Sabine felt her curiosity rise. "Okay. Shoot."

He rubbed the back of his head. "I've been sitting on this one for a while. Since we were kids."

"Uh-huh. And are you going to ask me sometime this year or . . ."

Ezra huffed out a nervous breath. "Just come over here, please."

She obliged, her curiosity reaching its zenith. "Ezra, what is it?"

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small jewelry box, and bent down on one knee.

Sabine's mouth went slack, her heart erupting into overdrive.

Ezra took a deep breath and said, "Like I said. Been wanting to ask you this for a while."

She let out a shaky breath. "Since we were kids?"

He grinned sheepishly at her. "Cheesy, yeah, but true."

She cocked her head at him, unable to stop herself from smiling like a lovestruck school girl. "Well, go on then. Ask me."

"Sabine Wren - will you . . . I mean, if you'll have me, if you still want me after all this, then, will you marry me?"

He popped the ring box open; inside were two silver rings, each embedded with sapphire and amethyst gems.

Under other circumstances, Sabine would have considered herself honor-bound to make him sweat. Just a little.

But not this time.

Sabine knelt down in front of him, ensuring they were on the same level.

"For better or worse," she replied softly. "Thorns and all. Yes, Ezra Bridger. I will marry you."

"show me your thorns and I'll show you hands, ready to bleed" - Aaron O'Hanlon