#and meditative. Now it just feels so dark and sad and it's getting to me just a little.

[siena-sevenwits]

.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen deal with your period cramps

requested by anon: "Would it be ok for you to write : How would Seventeen react and help with bad period cramps ? (I am currently on my period and its killing me... I can barely stay up, cramps are hurting as hell, I have nausea, hell I feel the worst...)"

notes: tw for menstruation pain, reader therefore has a uterus

masterlist

seungcheol:

tbh he's kinda a little bit Clueless, but he tries his best. cannot fathom the amount of pain you're in, but he does his research and immediately jumps up to boil water for a hot water bottle the second you tell him you're on your period. is confused by the idea of pre-menstrual syndrome n thinks that it's very unfair: bc you can be in pain???? even before the actual menstruation itself???? that sounds terrible :((( always has his arms open for a hug

jeonghan:

spots its arrival better than you. can tell when your period is coming like some sort of seer. has a cupboard full of chocolates and snacks which he stocks up constantly and allows you to take your pick of whatever you feel like having when you're on your period. insists that you don't have to do anything while you're going through the worst of your cramps, tells you to just lie down w the hot water bottle he made for you n he'll do whatever you need okay? 

joshua:

you Need to tell this man whenever your period starts bc otherwise he'll get upset that his calendar is all messed up :(( i firmly believe shua is the typa guy to keep track of your schedules for you, even if your cycle isn't regular. does Everything you want. you wanna eat a whole tub of Celebrations? he's rooting for you. need to cry bc the world is just too frustrating? tell him what movie you wanna cry to, he'll stream it illegally if that's what it takes. will probably also end up crying w you, but hey, we love a supportive guy <3

junhui:

curses the menstruation gods every time you tell him you're having cramps again. is essentially trying to stuff you full of painkillers the entire day bc he hates the idea of you being in pain </3 wanted to buy one of those period cramp simulator machines to see how bad it was for you, ended up chickening out when you told him vv seriously that it was like being thrown into the pits of hell. isn't allowed near the kettle to boil water for you (due to previous Mishaps), so he'll give you a pillow to put over your stomach and hug you in his arms for warmth

hoshi:

is confused for all of two seconds every time you tell him you're having rlly bad cramps (again?? didn't you have them last month??) before it clicks in his head. coos and baby-talks to you, offering his shoulder for you to sleep on if the physical contact will help. builds you a pillow fort to get comfortable in practically every single time. you had a really bad headache one month, and so now he's constantly talking in a hoarse whisper when your cramps are bad

wonwoo:

he's not Entirely sure what to do, but he does know that period pain can often manifest itself in mood swings, so he's always extra caring and considerate around your time of the month. will Let himself be yelled at if you do end up getting frustrated, then will hug you and pat your hair to help you calm down after. makes hot water for all the hot water bottles that you're ever gonna need. 

woozi:

makes sure you take your painkillers on time, and also makes sure you eat. he's heard from his mom that loss of appetite can happen often during periods, especially when cramps are bad, and so he encourages you to eat foods with lots of magnesium and nitrates in it. will hug you if the cramps are really bad and you're practically crawling to him in tears. will probably hug you even if you're only pouting and talking in a sad voice tho, tbh. 

minghao:

he researched that milk chocolate and white chocolate increase cramps pain, and so now he only ever gives you dark chocolate that's 60% cacao and above. has encouraged you to take up meditation when you're not on your period, saying it'll help strengthen you. you're still not entirely sure it's working, but then again, it's better to try than not. swaddles you in fluffy blankets and cushions bc seungcheol stole the hot water bottle to help with his indigestion or something

mingyu:

he's a lil confused, but he means well. carries you bridal-style everywhere you wanna go. searched up the types of foods best to eat to help with period cramps, and cooks food with lots and lots of spinach in it. regardless of whether you like it or not, because it's good for you and makes you feel better. spoon-feeds you the soup he makes, asks if it's making you feel warm inside with his adorable bright eyes

dokyeom:

has a little corner in the bottom of his wardrobe full of sanitary pad packages, bc one time he panicked when you asked him to buy you some and practically cleared the whole shelf of them. also has like 3 boxes of chocolates stacked on top of them bc of that same time where he panicked and ended up buying too many. as a result, always has supplies whenever you need them. is a little clueless too, but he's willing to help w lots of hugs and warmth!! 

seungkwan:

Knows your menstruation cycle for you. frets if you're a few of days early or a few of days late. if you have an irregular cycle, then oh god he's analysing everything to see if there's any sort of pattern. ngl he's a little nervous of you when you're on your period, but he's always ready to open his arms for you to draw you in for a hug if you need. starts crying if you end up crying bc of the pain/ mood swings, bc he's an empath okay n he feels your pain so bad

vernon:

i get the feeling he's like. the hidden pro at dealing with cramps. you tell him that you're hurting, and he's already boiled the kettle to make you a hot water bottle, arms laden with snacks and blankets and do you wanna come into his room to relax and watch the new movie he's fixated on or do you wanna just go to your room by yourself and sleep? big encourager of sleeping through cramps, bc he swears it helps so much and actually. he is so right it really does

chan:

went through like five different brands of paracetamol with you during your previous cramps to see which one was the best n lasted the longest. steals the expensive chocolates from mingyu's stash bc really, the guy has far too much and it's more deserving to go to you when you're in pain and also pls share w him as a thankyou for getting them for you. offers to run you a bubble bath to help you relax, often forgets about the bath while he's doing other stuff and almost makes it overflow

request guidelines

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hiya! was hoping I could request smut of G!p Donna body worshipping a ready with body image/confidence issues. Just Donna being absolutely obsessed with every part of reader, even the parts reader doesn’t like

Yessss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

Turn the light on

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, insecurities

Word count: 7,359

Summary: You think she never gonna like your body....

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))))

The kisses were soft, every time her lips landed on your skin it was like the best of caresses, the best of sensations.

Your body trembled in a subtle way while your head tried to concentrate on her caresses, on her soft hands that wanted to travel everywhere, to places where they never had the privilege of touching.

The smile, the courage you had that night was disappearing little by little, like a tire that deflates without you even realizing it until it is too late. The hand on the brunette's chest became firm when your arm tensed so the lady would not continue, so those mischievous hands would not lift your nightgown.

“What's wrong, tesoro?” Donna asked with a sad eye that already anticipated another of your rejections.

That realization was really what made you meditate on the two parts of your body: the part that wanted to continue, that cried out for you to leave any fear of that hot night behind. But there was also another part, one that couldn't stop imagining what would happen when that piece of clothing disappeared, when her hands ran over that body you were so ashamed of.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, with a sigh that struggled to be understanding. Maybe it was a while ago, now it was much harder for you to see the patience on her face.

However, you knew that fear could distort things, could form absurd paranoia in your mind. Donna said she would always wait for you, no matter how much.

You shook your head, not making eye contact, without the blush and fear on your face being noticed by the doll maker.

Wanting, not wanting... Your mind traveled between those two worlds but, that night, making an effort, you decided to let one of them prevail or, at least, you wanted to try to do so.

“No...” you whispered with shame making your words tremble. “But, but...”

The lady looked at you expectantly, kneeling on the bed, waiting to hear another of your excuses.

“(Y/N), calm down, I'm not in a hurry,” she said, bringing the hand that was previously traveling over your clothes to your cheek, almost tickling your skin.

Your mouth had become accustomed to smiling with her caresses and your cheeks burned shyly. How could you continue rejecting her? She was perfect.

“I know but... I, I want to do it,” you whispered, biting your lip, trying not to transmit that horrible fear with your gaze. “Mm, could you turn off the light?”

“The light? Perché?” she asked confused, blinking rapidly upon hearing your words.

You sighed, shaking your head, squeezing your eyes tightly and shrugging.

“I, I would feel more comfortable with the light off...” you explained, looking away.

Donna didn't answer. Luckily, she didn't ask any more questions, she didn't want to know the reason for your terrible embarrassment, so she obeyed your request, stretching out her arm and leaving that old bedroom completely dark.

“Okay...” she murmured, getting back on top of you, kissing you slowly, not in that messy and deep way. It was a kiss of comfort, a reassuring one. “Better?”

“Y-Yes,” you said, following the rhythm of those slow and short kisses, of those caresses that returned to your body, to your clothes.

You soon realized the light wasn't the problem.

You wondered if Donna could map you with just her hands, with her slender fingers, with her ability to move them. Maybe that's what she was doing; imagining what you would be like under that cloak of darkness, imagining with her caresses what the shape of your body would be like.

It was a thought that made you open your eyes and sink into what you thought was the safety of darkness. You didn't return the kisses. You simply prayed to the Black Gods that your body wouldn't be deciphered.

But time kept passing. Donna's kisses kept trying to distract you until, finally, her pale hand rested on your thigh and, as she raised it, your nightgown stayed on her wrist.

With a nervous gasp you brought your own hand to that spot, stopping the upward movement that threatened to strip you. You couldn't even stand it in the dark, you knew you couldn't, you knew that if Donna noticed your body, she would stop.

“Mm?” she murmured, confused, probably looking at you with a frown, with the look of disappointment that you imagined.

“On second thought... I think, I think I can't, Donna,” you whispered, your chest rising and falling quickly, with the heat of passion protesting loudly at your reluctance.

Another night, another failure.

“Fine,” she said, pulling away from you after one last quick kiss and a tired sigh.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized sincerely as you turned on the light, checking that no part of your body had been uncovered. “I'm so sorry.”

“Tesoro, don't apologize. It's okay, nothing's wrong,” Donna said, with a smile that you thought was fake.

The lady kissed you again, moving away definitively and sitting next to you, helping you to cover yourself with the sheets.

“I know it's not okay, I know I've failed you,” you commented with your mouth almost closed, playing with the fabric in your hands.

“You haven't failed me,” she said with a slightly hoarser voice, one voice similar to the one she had when you met her. “I just...” she said later, with a cautious tone. “I just want, I want to know what...”

“It's nothing important, I just...” you said quickly, clouding any shadow of doubt that could have been in the ventriloquist. “I'm not ready.”

“Mm,” the lady murmured, shaking her head, faking a smile.

“Donna,” you said, your voice sad, embarrassed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Will you hug me?”

She looked at you slowly, with a radiant smile as she nodded, gesturing for you to come closer, to lean on her chest while her arms calmed your demons, while her lips rested tenderly on your hair.

“I'm sure you're sick of me,” you commented with a distracted look, playing with the fabric of her nightgown, trying to relax. She looked at you sharply, frowning.

“No, no, no, how can you say that? I'll never get sick of you,” she said in an almost pleading tone, lifting your chin so you would look at her, something you did before shifting on her body. “You're the love of my life, (Y/N)… You're everything to me.”

“No, not everything… I can't make love to you,” you whispered, camouflaging your voice on her chest.

The lady sighed, hugging you tighter. Her breathing was still agitated. The excitement could still be noticed in her movements. That made you feel even worse, making you sit up.

“I can, I can touch you if you want…” you said with a blush on your cheeks, with a shy voice broken by nervousness.

Donna looked at you with a frown, shaking her head.

“No, it's not necessary,” she said softly, studying each of your micro-expressions, each of the movements of your body. “It's not fair to you. Just, just tell me what worries you.”

“I don't know,” you lied, avoiding the tears from running down your cheeks.

“Is it because of my penis?” Donna asked, with that same understanding tone, always worried about the change the Black Gods made in her body.

“No, Donna,” you said with a more serious voice, moving her own demons away from that conversation, letting them not settle next to yours. “It's not that.”

“Okay…” she sighed, lying down more comfortably on the bed, removing you from her chest so your gaze wouldn't escape hers again. “Are you afraid of something? Are you afraid of the pain?”

“No, no, I… Well, the pain scares me but… It's not that, darling,” you said nervously, intimidated by that sudden interrogation.

That revealed Lady Beneviento's loss of patience. She never asked. She simply accepted your decision, until that day.

“So what is it?” the doll maker asked again, that time with a brusque tone, not asking, but demanding an answer, something that could explain your behavior.

You stepped back, unable to explain your true reasons, your true fears. Her voice sounded stern, demanding, nervous… Because of you.

“I need to cle-clear myself,” you said, suppressing a sob and getting up from the bed, walking towards the door.

“(Y/N), wait, I, I'm sorry,” the lady said, reaching out a hand to grab your wrist. “Don't go, amore mio… Forgive me.”

“I'll be right back just… I just need a moment,” you said, painfully removing her hand from your skin, feeling the cold that the lack of contact left on your body.

You walked through the halls of that gloomy basement, running your hand along the cracked walls, with your mind thinking many things and at the same time thinking nothing. That wandering walk took you to the bathroom, where the mirror was waiting to laugh at you.

With a sob, you turned on the sink, wetting your face with that ice-cold water, hoping that this way your mind could clear up.

Your gaze slowly went up to the mirror as you moved away, letting the reflection reveal more and more parts of your body. Without saying anything, sighing, you pulled up the fabric of your nightgown, looking at your figure, the figure that embarrassed you.

“No... She can't see me like this... I’m, I’m horrible,” you sobbed as you ran your hand over the marks on your skin, over the curves you were born with.

You were always a self-conscious girl. Since you were a child you suffered mockery for the marks on your body, for your freckles, for your scars... It might seem that they were simply children's stuff, that everything would pass with time but... You were wrong.

Adolescence only made it worse. Your body changed, deforming in a way you considered horrible. You weren't tall, you weren't especially thin, your body was horrible.

That shadow of your complexes led your soul to chain itself, to put on a protective shield that kept it away from suffering. Always with your books, with your drawings... You became a hermit without the right to be one, at least in a place like that.

That sinister village wasn't to blame for your problems. No one was to blame. The masses, the sermons, the Black Gods... None of that mattered to you especially, not even the Lords.

Your problems and your self-pity were always above your faith, above those prophecies of Mother Miranda. To live in a place like that never helped you, but you knew that if you lived somewhere else, nothing would change.

You were born that way, with that body, with those marks. Sometimes you wondered what kind of horrible thing your parents did, why they offended the Black Gods to punish them with such a horrible daughter.

Without friends, without beauty, without charisma, you became an inhabitant that no one paid attention to, a stain in a place full of light eyes, blonde hair and beautiful women, groups to which you didn’t belong at all.

In the midst of all that darkness, of boring masses you masterfully avoided by placing yourself in remote places (what nonsense, no one would notice you anyway) you achieved something you found hard to believe.

You caught someone's attention, not a villager, not a mocking child. There was something different about the usual sermons, some eyes you couldn't see, but you knew they were watching you.

That black dress, that sinister doll, that stoic pose and an almost ghostly presence...

You didn't know why, Donna Beneviento, youngest Lord, dangerous woman, mentally ill, the personification of fear for the village, had set her sights on you day after day, sermon after sermon.

Curiosity or simply a misinterpretation on your part, that's what you thought it was. No one could notice you, not even her, unless her sick mind wanted to torture you simply because she felt like it. It wouldn't be the first time it happened, you had heard rumors.

But rumors were always based on conversations where words danced at the whim of fearful villagers. When at last that dark lady came towards you with the church empty, you knew she wouldn't hurt you.

A hoarse voice came out from that black veil, a voice that cried out for your attention, that asked you why you couldn't get out of her head. It seemed impossible.

Luckily, she wasn't the only one. For a long time you had also been looking for her figure, you wondered what kind of woman she was.

Everything led to an incredible point, to a lot of walks, embarrassing dates with the lady in black. The smile began to replace your sad face and before you knew it, you were madly in love with her.

Not everything was light in that mansion. Donna Beneviento had problems, she was sick. She had developed an obsession with you that was difficult to understand. However, her jealousy, her clingy and almost dominant attitude didn’t make a dent in your feelings.

Yes, she was obsessed with you, not a day went by when her hands didn't touch your skin, when her lips didn't devour yours in silence. To her, you weren't just another girl, a piece of meat to have fun with. No, to her, you were much more than that.

The love she felt for you transcended her own appearance, the fear she felt when the veil disappeared from her face, when she had no choice but to be honest with you about her body.

You stayed by her side, you didn't run away. Yes, surely that obsession, that jealousy, that kind of adoration the lady in black had for you had a much more romantic explanation than a stupid mental illness.

You were that miracle, that person who saw far beyond appearances, the only person in the world who told her she was beautiful.

Everything was going well, perfect, even. Your life was a sea of ​​kisses and caresses. Living with her in the mansion, well, and also with Angie, was the best decision of your life.

But your relationship was missing something that Donna wanted and that you were unable to give her.

Luckily, every day was a restart, a new opportunity to start from scratch, to forget that awkward moment that Donna never, ever remembered to you.

But the passage of time was capable of distorting things, even that kind and understanding attitude of the lady in black.

“You're not talkative today,” Donna commented during lunch.

The day had started well, but that was because the lady in black was spending time with her dolls, oblivious to your own worries.

“Yes, well...” you sighed, playing with your food and looking down.

“Have I done something wrong?” the lady asked, drinking some wine.

“No,” you said, sighing again, with a horribly fake smile. “It’s nothing.”

“It's nothing…” she murmured, half-closing her eye. You regretted your mistake, trying to improve that sad smile. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, well, thoughts, you know,” you said with an improved mood, trying by all means to erase that dark look of the lady.

“No, I don't know,” she said, with a serious, confused tone. “Tell me.”

You would have to invent something, and quickly.

“Well… I was, I was thinking about going to the village,” you said, with a sincere smile. She looked at you with that same intense gaze.

“What for?” she asked curiously, frowning. “Do you need something?”

“The truth is that I would like to buy some clothes,” you said calmer, relaxing your shoulders.

Her gaze didn’t change.

“Clothes…” Donna sighed, tilting her head. “I didn't know you were interested in clothes.”

“I'm not interested,” you said amused, pointing at your dress. “But I think that five years with the same dress are too many years, don't you think?”

“Mm, you want a dress,” she said, smiling tenderly to your relief, also noticing your used clothes. “What kind of dress?”

You shrugged, eating calmly, enjoying the dedication of the lady in black to please you with her recipes.

“Well… One, I guess,” you joked with a funny look. “One that suits me well…”

No, certainly talking about clothes wasn’t the best idea. Your complexes peeked into your mind, taking notice.

“Mm,” Donna said with a tender look, slowly getting up from the table and approaching you.

You lowered your head, blushing at that smile, at how lucky you were to always have her beauty by your side. She was so beautiful, so affectionate… So… Donna…

Her finger raised your chin while the lady studied your shy eyes. The smile didn’t leave her face.

“Everything suits well on a beautiful girl like you,” she murmured, leaning in to steal a sensual, tender kiss from you, one that tasted like wine.

You laughed shyly, moving away from her tender harassment while playing with her hands.

“Then wear a potato sack!” a shrill voice interrupted that romantic moment, that feeling in your mind of having freed yourself for a second from your fears. Angie.

“Angie…” Donna murmured, rolling her eye but with her hand still in yours. “Unlike (Y/N), you are better quiet.”

“That's a low blow, silly Donna,” the doll protested, approaching you, getting on the table and making an unpleasant noise when moving the plates and glasses.

“What did I tell you about getting on the table? Scendi!” the lady said, blinking furiously, pointing to the floor with her hand.

“I don't want to, I'm helping the fool to choose a dress,” Angie said, with a cocky voice, making you shake your head, rubbing your eyes.

“Cosa? Please leave her alone,” Donna said shaking her head as the doll played with your dress, pretending to study it thoroughly.

“Mm, yeah, a potato sack would be too fancy for a loser like you…” the puppet muttered, making you frown with an annoyed growl. “What do you say, Donna?”

“I say… Basta, Angie,” the lady hissed, crossing her arms. “Don’t make me control you.”

“You’re stupid and she’s stupid,” the doll protested, reluctantly obeying. “I just want to help…”

“Hey, I appreciate it,” you said amused, winking at her.

“You see, Donna? She appreciates my ideas,” Angie said, with a haughty pose, climbing onto your lap.

The lady snorted, shaking her head.

“Mm, let's see, let's see...” the puppet murmured, placing the dress on you under your amused gaze. “Oh, you could...” she said, lowering her voice, getting closer to your ear. “Oh, oh, oh, you could wear a ruffled dress.”

“Ruffles? No thanks, that's too cheesy,” you said amused, arching your eyebrows.

“Did you hear that, Donna? She says your dolls are cheesy…” Angie mocked, with an overly dramatic tone.

“Hey, I didn't say that,” you protested.

Donna's patience ran out, picking up the doll in her arms and leaving her on the floor in an unpleasant way.

“That's enough, get out,” she said in a threatening voice, pointing her finger towards the hallway.

“You're too tense, silly Donna. Are you having too much testicular pressure?”

“Basta! Porca miseria, taci, taci! Get out, get out, get out!” the lady shrieked furiously, offended and humiliated by that insinuation, which, obviously, also involved you.

That abrupt attitude with her only companion made you squirm in your chair, guilt stalking you again. You were to blame for that tension. You were to blame for the desire to have you, to possess you, being extended more and more in time.

“I-I'm sorry,” you murmured nervously as the doll ran away, laughing loudly.

“No…” Donna said, turning around and shaking her head, resting her hands on your shoulders. “No, tesoro, you haven't done anything wrong.”

“I… I…” you stammered, biting your lip to suppress an embarrassed sob. “Donna, I…”

“Shh, don't worry, everything is fine. You know how she is like, don't pay attention to her,” the lady said softly, gesturing to you with her hand. “Get up, amore mio, I want to look at you.”

With the help of her hand, you stood up while Donna looked at your clothes, the fabric that covered your sleeves, the folds of your dress…

“Mm…” she murmured, relaxing that furious expression due to the doll's teasing. “Yes, okay…”

“What…? What are you doing?” you asked curiously, trying to forget that awkward moment.

She smiled, apparently calmer, putting a hand around your waist, sighing and hugging you from behind, placing her lips on your neck.

“I won't allow la mia ragazza to spend a single lei on a horrible dress…” she whispered affectionately, causing you to laugh due to the tickling of her lips. “I'll make you one.”

“Oh…” you gasped with a smile, closing your eyes to enjoy her hug, joining your hands to hers, trying, involuntarily, that they didn't dare to run around your body. “No, it's not necessary.”

“Mm, of course, bellisima…” she said, turning you around quickly and capturing your lips again. “My beautiful girl has to wear a beautiful dress…”

“Donna…” you said with a tender voice, mercilessly seduced by her continuous displays of affection, by her caresses, by her melodic voice.

Yes, she was definitely perfect. You felt stupid, stupid for not being able to give her what she wanted, to let her love you, to make you hers as she would like. You would have to leave your demons aside, remove sadness and fear from your life if you wanted to please her.

“I will make you a dress worthy of a true lady,” she whispered, swinging with you, with a seductive sparkle in her eye. “No, no, worthy of a goddess.”

“I hope Mother Miranda didn't hear you,” you joked, causing that tender laugh from the lady in black again, causing her lips to rest on yours in a quick, but terribly romantic way.

“Let her hear me… She will never be as lucky as me. I have you, principessa…”she murmured, leaving you, pushing her tempting body away

You, slowly, reached out your hand to grab hers, so she wouldn't move away any further.

“Donna…”you whispered, your voice nervous but determined, even if it was just for a moment. “I want, I want to try again… Tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Donna asked, running the back of her hand over your cheek as you nodded. “There's no hurry. Angie just talks nonsense, don't take it seriously, mm?”

“It's not because of Angie I… I want, I want to do it,” you said, unable to keep your gaze, something Donna prevented by lifting your chin again.

“Va bene… But first, tesoro, let's finish eating,” she said, kissing you quickly and finally moving away from you, pointing to your chair for you to sit down again.

No matter how little courage you had, it quickly vanished like on all those previous occasions. Not even the safe cover of darkness prevented your body from shaking when her hands ran over it.

Your mind wandered through horrible thoughts, through the fear you had that the lady would notice your body, that way you were born and that made you so self-conscious.

She didn't give it any importance. It was almost as if she had already assumed that making love to you was an impossible task.

You didn't want her to think that way, you didn't even want to think that way yourself, but you couldn't help it.

Day after day, your body asked you for love, but your mind prevented it. Not even your suggestion of keeping your clothes on was a good idea.

Donna didn't ask you, she stopped asking you. Simply, desperate, she accepted all your proposals without complaining but, with time, her attitude was increasingly tired, her sighs were increasingly louder.

You didn't know how long you could last like this, how long the lady in black could put up with you. The fear of losing you was no longer just hers, you also were afraid of Donna abandoning you, of Donna stopping loving you.

At that moment you understood her possessiveness, her jealousy. Just imagining a life without her was horrible and if it was that horrible for you, it was much worse for her.

You sighed during a quiet afternoon, finishing reading while the lady in black worked on something at her desk. Your gaze went to hers, which seemed concentrated. Your eyes shone with her distracted beauty, with each of her movements.

You simply couldn’t understand yourself.

You loved her more than anything but… Because of your stupid complexes, you would end up losing her.

As you thought about all those horrible possibilities, your eyes met and Donna did what she did best, giving you one of her radiant smiles, resting her head on her hand as if she were contemplating something beautiful, something you refused to be aware of.

“Do you see anything you like, tesoro?” she asked softly, with a look that expressed all your worries were absurd.

“Ugh, here we go again… Bye, sticky fools” Angie said, getting off the couch where she was reading with you and walking away from the living room.

“Yes,” you answered, ignoring the doll. “You.”

Donna laughed again, shaking her head and raising her hand towards you.

“Come here,” she whispered tenderly.

You smiled back, getting up from the couch and walking towards the desk, holding out your hand for the lady to take in an elegant way.

“Sit here with me, I want to show you something,” Donna whispered, kissing your shy hand and pulling you to sit on her lap, settling into her favorite position, with your body on hers in an innocent way.

The lady in black pulled out an old magazine, one that seemed to be about fashion, or dresses, or something similar. Little by little she turned each page, where really beautiful girls posed in all kinds of dresses.

You stirred at the sight of those models, at the sight of that beauty that you could never have. Donna kissed your cheek and placed your hair lovingly, pointing with her finger at one of those photographs.

“What do you think of this one, tesoro? Do you like it?” she asked in a whisper, attentive to your gestures.

You leaned down to pick up that magazine, letting Donna accommodate you better on her lap.

“Oh… You mean, you mean the dress, right?” you joked without wanting to do it, running your hand over that beautiful woman, over that perfect body.

The lady laughed amused, frowning.

“Of course,” she whispered unaware of your little joke, resting her head on your shoulder. “I think that color will suit you very much, see? These details match your eyes.”

“Um, yes, well…” you murmured unsure. “I don't think that one will fit me well, it's too tight.”

The doll maker nodded, turning the page without asking any more questions.

“Well, then… What do you say about this one? I can change the design so it doesn't have… Those, those ruffles you hate,” she joked in a calm voice. “I think that one makes a very pretty figure.”

You looked at that woman posing, a tall, blonde woman, who seemed to be made for that dress. You could never be her. You could never have the pretty figure Donna said. No dress would achieve that.

“I don't know, Donna...” you murmured, starting to get stressed for no reason, just for the simple fact that you didn't look anything like those models.

“Mm, okay, don't worry, I'm sure we'll find one you like,” she said, with a slightly more serious look, turning the page again.

Reject after refusal, you rejected each of her proposals, making her features harden little by little.

“Look, I think this one is perfect,” the lady said, pointing to the beautiful girl on the last page. “This neckline would look great on you.”

You shook your head, increasingly nervous.

“Mm, okay…” Donna sighed, running a hand through her hair, but without letting you go. “I'll ask the Duke for more magazines, there has to be a dress you like…”

“No,” you said nervously, looking away. “It's not necessary.”

“Well, I can, I can try to make one with my own design, but I'm not a dressmaker. It would be very difficult for me to not make you look like a porcelain doll,” Donna said, amused, moving you on her lap.

“I wish I was,” you murmured in a somber voice. Even those dolls had better bodies than you, or so you thought.

“Hey, come on, why you say that?” she asked, moving your face so you could look at her.

You shook your head, moving away from her caresses and getting off her lap.

“Stop pretending, Donna. I'm never going to be like one of those models, no dress you make could fit me well,” you said nervously, overwhelmed, about to explode.

“But, but, tesoro…” the lady said, frowning, with a look of surprise. “Di che cosa stai parlando?”

“I don't want a dress, I don't need one, I don't want…” you stammered running a hand over your forehead. “I don't want… For you to realize how horrible I am and…”

“(Y/N), tell me, tell me what's wrong, why do you say such a nonsense?” she asked again, getting up from her desk and reaching out her hands to take yours, a gesture you rejected with a furious gasp.

“Forget it! Okay? I'm not like them. I never will be, so you better stop trying to make me look like them with those stupid dresses. I'm horrible!” you screamed nervously, turning around to run away.

“(Y/N), please, come here, wait!” Donna shouted as you ran towards the elevator, cowardly fleeing.

You ignored her call, going down to the basement, running through its hallways, entering the bedroom and throwing yourself on the bed, crying inconsolably.

You couldn't stand it anymore, you couldn't stand the silent shame you felt for your body. Your mind had exploded. You were no longer able to accept it, to control your anger, to prevent the demons of your low self-esteem from overshadowing your rational thinking.

After a time that you couldn't determine, the sound of heels interrupted your moans and the weight of the brunette sank the bed while a warm hand rested on your back.

“Go away,” you sobbed. “Leave me alone.”

“I will never let you cry alone, tesoro, never,” Donna murmured, sighing. “I can't stand to see you cry, amore mio…”

“Well, leave then,” you said abruptly, moving so the contact would disappear.

“Please... Tell me, tell me what's wrong, I beg you, you’re breaking my heart, (Y/N)…” she whispered, moving your body to get up, grabbing you by the shoulders and wiping away your tears. “Don't cry, please…”

“I can't take it anymore, Donna…” you sobbed, fighting back your tears. “It's, it's too much…”

“What's too much? Please, I want to help you…” she sighed, keeping her hand on your cheek. “Day after day I see your eyes begging for help but I’m unable to read them… Grant me the grace of your words. Grant me the precious gift of those thoughts that are tormenting you…”

“You are always so poetic…” you said with a smile, shaking your head.

She smiled back, without taking her eye off yours, comforting you with her tender gaze.

“Poetry is the word of the Gods…” she whispered romantically. “You are my Goddess, (Y/N)…”

“Don't talk nonsense, I’m not a Goddess,” you said with a sadder tone, turning your face away from her caresses. “I’m nothing like that, I… You don't understand…”

“No, of course I don't understand, tesoro,” she said, getting a little closer to you. “Explain it to me, I’m begging you…”

“Fuck… Do you know… Do you know why I'm wearing this horrible dress? Why don't I let you see me naked? Why don't I want to…? Why can't I make love to you?” you asked embarrassed, correcting your words.

Donna simply shook her head.

“Because of this,” you said, getting up furiously, taking advantage of that furious outburst to untie the laces of your dress and let it fall at your feet.

The lady stood up nervously, looking at you dazed, looking in detail at your half-naked body with her mouth open, surprised.

“(Y/N)… You are…” she murmured, approaching slowly, as if she were hypnotized.

“Don't come closer, Donna,” you said, hissing, kicking the floor. “You see? You don't have to say it. I don't want to hear it. My body is horrible, it's, it's full of marks and freckles and... No, it's not pretty, it's not proportionate...”

The ventriloquist stopped dead, shaking her head, without taking her eye off your flawed body.

“It's... It's a burden I've had for too long... I'm not worthy of your love, of your desire... You'll never, ever be able to love a body like mine... Never...” you murmured, sobbing again, trembling with shame.

“Wait a minute...” she murmured, making a gesture with her hand, looking down with a frown, as if she had just remembered something important. “Oh, so... Were you turning off the light because you were ashamed of your body?” she asked in a different, harsher tone.

You, embarrassed, nodded, lowering your head and clenching your fists tightly.

“Really? Oh, wow, I…” Donna said, with a smile that stuck in your heart, laughing nervously but strangely relieved, something that made you groan.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” you shrieked furiously, taking the brunette’s laughter as a mockery.

“I’m not laughing at you,” she said, sighing in relief, with that mocking smile decorating her face as she approached. “Oh, tesoro… I thought you turned off the light so you wouldn’t see my… My face,” she said, her smile disappearing little by little.

“What? No,” you said, shaking your head, with the same confused expression.

“It’s, it’s a relief,” she said, smiling again.

You shook your head in disbelief, bending down to pick up the dress, something Donna prevented with a hand on your wrist, slowly raising your body.

“Amore mio… You're so stupid…” she said with a tender smile, cupping your face in her hands. “Your body is beautiful…”

“Yeah, come on, now lie to me,” you said distrustfully, fleeing from her caresses again. “Have you seen me well? Look at that waist, at that horrible freckles…”

“Horrible?” she asked, running a hand over your marked collarbone, grabbing your waist with the other one. “I think they're cute…”

“Come on, don't pretend that…” you said nervously, letting the lady in black explore your flawed skin for the first time, letting her fingers sink into your scars. “Oh, no, don't touch me there, it's horrible.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured, with a cold look, taking your hand and bringing it to her own scar. “Do you think this is horrible, (Y/N)?”

“No,” you said sincerely, strangely comfortable with her caresses. “But, but your body, your body is perfect and mine…”

“Yours isn't perfect,” the lady said, her voice low and whispering, pulling you a little closer to her, resting her warm hand on your back. “Because there's no word that describes something beyond perfection, tesoro… You're beautiful… Your body is beautiful…”

“Don't tell me that…” you whispered confused, blushing at her compliments. “I know, I know you say that to make me feel good.”

“Mm, and what happens when you tell me that I'm beautiful? Do you do it to make me feel good too?” she asked without raising her voice, without making you feel uncomfortable.

“N-No… I, I really think you're beautiful,” you murmured, looking away, trembling every time her fingers ran over your curves, those places you hated.

Donna smiled, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, to sigh on your lips while her hands continued their particular exploration, caressing your back, running a finger along your spine, causing you hundreds of shivers.

“Perfetta…” she whispered among her kisses, her lips too busy to care if you understood her.

You let yourself go, you let her skin brush against yours, her body embrace yours, her perfection and your imperfection to mix.

“Donna, wait,” you said, interrupting her deep kisses.

You moved away, still embarrassed by that eye that didn't want to leave your figure and you moved your ankle, taking a breath.

Your hands traveled nervously to the clasp of your bra, which gave way despite the trembling, falling next to that dress, the one that hid your greatest fear. The lady in black took a deep breath, trying to be kind, trying not to stare at your breasts in a shameless way.

She couldn't help it, her gaze fell on them, her breathing became more agitated as her hands reached out to you again, passing over your chest without touching those erotic parts, surrounding them in a respectful way while her lips slowly traveled down your neck.

“I'm not done,” you said, interrupting, moving away from those hot kisses again.

With less fear at seeing her gaze enraptured by your beauty, you bent down getting rid of the last piece of clothing you had left, exposing yourself to the woman you loved as you never thought you would dare.

“Every piece of clothing you take off is a gift for my gaze...” she whispered, with a voice taken by nerves, by the sincere love that you didn't believe she felt. “You are amazing, amore mio…”

“Come on…” you joked, feeling comfortable with her eye wandering over your imperfection, her hands brushing your hips, her fingers tickling your sensitive, uneven skin. “You are so tender, Donna… Too much for me to keep resisting…”

“Mm, don't resist then,” the lady said softly, pulling your waist, taking you back to the pleasure of her wet, warm kisses, passing that heat through every inch of your skin. “Wait, (Y/N),” she interrupted, moving away in the same way as you. “I think this is unfair.”

“Oh, well...” you said nervously, frustrated at having lost the burning contact that encouraged you to fulfill your lustful desires.

She smiled, but didn't say anything. Donna brought her hands to the buttons of her dress, undoing them little by little, also nervous. Your gaze remained fixed on the pale skin of her body as the top disappeared.

If you were a Goddess you didn't know what she was... Was there anything superior to a Goddess?

Her bra also fell under her trembling hands and her black skirt soon joined the pile of clothes. The lady in black hesitated before lowering her last garment, before letting you see that part of her body that also embarrassed her, but finally, she did it, looking away.

“Donna…” you sighed, involuntarily approaching her naked body, letting your hands travel to her skin, your eyes focusing on every detail of that, soft, pale, hot body… “You are so beautiful…”

“No, no… Not as much as you…” she said, visibly nervous, especially because her body betrayed her desire, something that, unfortunately for her, she could no longer hide. “Come, I want to kiss you.”

You obeyed, walking, floating towards her, letting your two bodies join naked, your skin delighting in the contact.

They were different kisses, deeper ones. Your hands also lost their fear. Hers dared to conquer your breasts, the lower part of your back. Her lips left yours, traveling down your neck, down your freckled collarbone.

“Donna…” you gasped again, surprised by that adoration, by that delicacy with which her fingers ran over your flaws, with which her lips kissed every part you hated, always carefully, as if the mere fact of touching your scars or your curves was something almost forbidden, a divine privilege.

Your hands also ran over her skin, enjoying the softness that yours didn’t have, that paleness, that shine that made you doubt if Donna Beneviento was human, if that beauty was possible in a place like that.

“Make love to me, please…” you whispered, with your voice broken by the growing lust, by the rubbing of your bodies, the subtle caresses of her erection on your belly.

Nothing mattered anymore, just her, just you, just two poor, self-conscious souls who blindly believed in a God that didn't exist, in a supernatural entity that said you were both beautiful.

“Please…” she whispered, walking slowly until you were lying on the bed, lowering her lips down your chest, kissing your belly, scratching the skin of your legs with her nails, claiming that as her territory, claiming you.

Your hips met with hers. Your waist was grabbed by those faithful hands. Your sides were adored by her caresses, by her kisses…

Everything you hated was ambrosia to her, it was addictive to her lips, to her fingers, to her own body that wanted to join yours, that moved to feel its burning skin on yours, so the heat between them would stop being unbearable.

Donna slowly pulled away, with her hand always on your body, not wanting to leave you, looking at you in such a tender way that it seemed impossible. Her sincere smile calmed your nerves. Nothing could make you back down, nothing.

“Ti amo…” she whispered, before going down to your lips again, positioning her body so her erection rubbed against your wetness, against that sensitive part of your body.

“Oh, Donna…” you whispered, hugging her gratefully, almost sobbing from the emotion of feeling desired. You were stupid, but you wouldn't be stupid anymore, never again. “Please… I need you…”

She nodded slowly, caressing your cheek before moving to guide the tip towards your entrance and moving slowly, entering you delicately.

You squirmed due to the sensation, an annoying, painful sensation, but one you couldn't avoid.

Your body stretched slowly, with time, without rushing while Donna entered you completely with a subtle moan, always relieving that discomfort with her caresses, with whispers that passion and nerves didn't allow you to understand.

“Amore mio…” she whispered, letting you get used to it gently, enduring the pleasure of your walls tightening around her. “Are you better? Can I move?”

You, impressed by the change in your body, by losing that pain and immediately turning it into an intense pleasure, nodded closing your eyes, running your hands along her legs.

Her hips began to move slowly but rhythmically, in a way in which you were able to feel her erection sliding along your walls, making its way, soaking in the moisture of your long-repressed desire.

Soft moans, sighs, glances… That joined the dance of your hips, of your bodies fused erotically. Kisses landed on your lips from time to time, your body began to move, to lose its shyness.

The pleasure was outrageously overwhelming. Your hands lost their composure, pulling on her hair, grabbing her breasts, wanting to add that contact, that rubbing to the pleasure of her thrusts.

The slow rhythm disappeared when her hands rested on either side of your head. The lust was already unbearable and her hips began to lose control little by little, as did yours.

“Donna, Donna, I think, I think…” you stammered, noticing that your body was beginning to tense, that your mind was completely free, that it was only able to process the pleasure you felt, one that was getting stronger and stronger.

“Ah!” you screamed when your back tensed, when your walls squeezed her shaft abruptly, trapping her inside of you, preventing her from coming out of your orgasm.

Those new, involuntary movements were enough for Donna to fight against your body, to allow her to maintain that increasingly furious rhythm until, shortly after your screams echoed off the walls of the room, she released herself with a tremendously seductive moan.

Her seed coursed through your wetness, through your walls agitated by your own release. You were already her, you always were, but there was no doubt now.

“Oh, amore mio…” the lady sighed, kissing you erratically, letting her body fall on yours, her hands go crazy in your hair.

“Donna…” you sighed, laughing amused by her tender attitude. “Do… Do you really like my body?” you asked, with insecurity slightly peeking in your mind.

“I love everything about you…”

[laracrofted]

knee deep in the passenger seat

synopsis: nora and bradley meet again that one time. set five-ish years before baby, i’m high octane.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x nora rogers (oc)

warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni, explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex, semi-public sex), slight age gap (six years), alcohol consumption, vomiting. rooster is slutty (affectionate) and also, a little sad. (wc: 5.4K)

note: i wrote this in october 2022 and just never posted it anywhere lol 💙 but since it's alexa's birthday, i'm opening the vault for her special day. happy birthday, alexa, you're nora's biggest fan except for me!

tags: @theharddeck @bradshawsbitch @hangmanbrainrot @startrekfangirl2233 @kandierteveilchen @lostinwonderland314 @hangmanscoming @t-nd-rfoot @sometimesanalice @dempy @mlibbydp @bellaireland1981 @clancycucumber230 @kmc1989 @averagereader35 @eli2447 @filmflux @bethbunnyy @callsignspark @kajjaka @roosterbruiser @djs8891 @gretagerwigsmuse

An orange September moon is barely visible in the darkness, and Nora has probably overdone it.

Things… could be worse, she reasons, maybe not much worse but still.

No one’s in immediate danger of passing out in the crunch of early autumn leaves or worse, peeing on the side of the deserted middle-of-nowhere road and getting slapped in the face with a public intoxication fine. 

She’s seen worse, probably been worse. 

However, Nora must admit that on a scale of unshakable steel to blow-up man outside of a small town car dealership, she is starting to feel a bit like a day-old helium balloon with a pin-hole leak; limbs bending and sagging and dragging in strange ways. 

Nothing sounds more appealing that crumpling in a pile of sparkles and limbs until Aunt Charlie comes out to scrape her from the damp pavement and drag her home. 

Also, she might puke.

That all depends on how the last shot of Tito’s lands in her stomach and given that Nora can smell rubbing alcohol in her nostrils with every hiccuping breath, she doesn’t love her chances. 

How did you get here, Rogers? You’re a grown 24 year-old woman. 

She ponders, contemplates, does all of those good and meditative action verbs. 

She spent four whole years watching the future Academy Award winners and nepotism babies of the world do lines off a dirty bathroom counter in a shoebox Greenwich apartment. An small close-friends-and-family-members-only retirement party for a renowned Naval Caption should’ve been a breeze.

She’s an adult now. Mostly.

She is smart and more than capable and – 

“An absolute sucker for an open bar,” Nora finishes out loud and with an irritated exhale, shakes a sharp piece of gravel loose from her heel, reflecting on her earlier decision to match a six-foot-something Naval aviator drink-for-drink, shot-for-shot. Idiot. 

Who cares if said Naval aviator looked like an abandoned puppy all alone at the pool table, all big brown eyes and broad shoulders, looking all…  sexy and wounded and sad.

She should’ve known better. She does. 

Over her shoulder, Nora aims a glare at Bradley Bradshaw, who in that moment, wobbles around a No Parking sign, loses his balance, and overcorrects so sharply that he almost ends up flat on his ass in the road. 

They’re a pair of idiots, then. 

And Nora really can’t assign out all of the blame.

No one forced her to order that one drink too many that pushed her over the edge… and the one after that. 

No one held her mouth open and poured the shots down her throat.

Although…

She does have a distinct memory of when Bradley caught one of her wrists in a hand large enough to hold both of them and gently bumped the rim of the souvenir shot glass against her bottom lip until Nora smiled and opened her mouth for him, which will probably make her blush in the morning.

She reasons that Bradley can be shoulder a little bit of the blame. He does have the shoulders for it. 

Since Bradley is also providing her only reprieve for the night – a safe haven, far from the oldies music and probing Is being a filmmaker really a career nowadays? questions –  Nora has already forgiven him in her mind.

Cars are parked all along the side of the road, late arrivals and overflow who couldn’t squeeze in the small parking lot in front of the dive, and as Nora weaves between the Go Navy! and Proud Veteran bumper stickers, a faded blue Bronco appears in the not-so-far distance, shining in the sparse moonlight like a beacon.

A beacon of hope… and air conditioning. 

She looks over her shoulder again to confirm that Bradley hasn’t collapsed and is still making good progress. He is swaying a little, like an anchored boat on a passing wake, but seems generally fine.

She makes a run for it. 

Under her feet, the grass is still wet from a recent storm and slippery, but Nora only slips twice. And after the second time almost causes her to lose a heel in the waterlogged ground, she goes barefoot for the last stretch, heels dangling from a bent finger, shimmering in the blue darkness like miniature disco balls. 

A beep-beep echoes across the humid air, damp enough to feel like a cloying fog, as Bradley unlocks the Bronco, and Nora calls, “Shotgun!” over her shoulder and smiling vaguely at the disembodied laugh that comes from the darkness, all but sags onto the seat.

She resists the urge to curl up like a cat and doze, like the Bronco has a built-in memory foam mattress and not a not even that comfortable brown leather bench seat. 

She leans back, relaxed, and lets everything slip from her slightly sweat-damp grip, dropping her purse and shoes, not bothering to check where anything ends up. She’ll worry about it later.

Right now, Nora is just grateful to sit a seat with a back for once.  

A door opens, and Nora cracks one eye open for pure self-preservation, checking to make sure it is Bradley and not some sort of Friday the 13th slasher. 

“I was promised AC,” Nora complains, pushing damp strands of pale blonde from her sweaty forehead, cursing her decision to ever get bangs and also not to grow them out in the colder months. 

“Give me a second, Rogers.” 

But Bradley almost immediately reaches over and cranks the ignition.

Cool air blasts from the vents, and Nora could actually cry.

Basking, Nora doesn’t pay attention as Bradley rustles around outside, shrugging off his suit jacket and tossing it into the back, and hauls himself one-handed into the front. She’s serene and blessedly, rapidly cooling down. 

For a moment, Nora and Bradley are both silent, simply luxuriating. 

She’s the one to break the silence.

“God, I think I want to marry the person who invented modern air conditioning… or like, offer them  mind-blowing sex.” 

“Want to have sex?” 

 “No, I said – ” 

“No, I heard you.” His grin gleams in the greenish light from the radio, turned all the way down on some local station. “My question wasn’t related. Mind-blowing?” 

She blinks in his general direction, and in the dim glow, Nora can make him out well enough. His white dress shirt is gone, probably in the back with his jacket, leaving him in an undershirt that is straining over his slightly sunburned biceps. 

He looks perfectly casual.

Like Bradley’s asked to grab some drunk food.

“Rewind. Did you just ask me to have sex with you like…?” Nora wracks her brain for an apt comparison. “Like, we ran into each other at a coffee shop and you’re asking if I want to share a table with you? We’re both here, so might as well?” 

He chokes on a laugh, scrubbing a hand over the bottom half of his face to hide a shit-eating grin. Nora narrows her eyes, and Bradley makes an aggressive throat clearing noise.

“Yes.” 

A pause.

“No.”

Another longer pause.

“Is there a right answer to this question?” 

Jesus Christ. 

Nora exhales a disbelieving laugh. And then, entertains the idea. 

It isn’t a great one. For several reasons.

Reason 1: Aunt Charlie was good friends with Carole Bradshaw, which is the only reason Nora even knows him. Charlie watched him grow up and so, carries a certain fondness for him. 

A fondness that might be more than slightly tainted if lovable Bradley Bradshaw has sweaty and depraved sex with her niece in a parked car, outside of a retirement party where Charlie herself is currently in attendance. 

(He didn’t explicitly mention depraved, but Nora kind of gets that vibe from him.)

Reason 2: See above.

But… Nora considers, What if Charlie didn’t find out? What then?

He’s a good looking man, she can’t deny that. Humidity curls his hair around his ears, and Bradley’s got these puppy dog eyes that promise all kinds of trouble, a sharp edge of mirth underneath. 

He looks… good.

He’s what? Six years older than her? That’s nothing.

A guy like him… could probably snap her in half, all broad shoulders and massive arms. 

She’s always had a thing for arms.

And Nora hasn’t gotten laid in a while. She’s been busy, assisting and pitching and writing and running around Manhattan for drinks and meetings and interviews and – 

It’s a bad idea.

It’s not a good idea.

It’s… not the worst idea.

“Sure, yeah,” Nora finds herself saying. “We could have sex.” 

This all really started when Aunt Charlie got the invite in the mail a month ago.

As a former Top Gun instructor and current Department of Defense superstar, Charlie Blackwood got a lot of invites. She got invited to weddings, baby showers, medal ceremonies, and lately, lots and lots of retirement parties.

She declined most of them, but Nora knew Charlie had a soft spot for Top Gun graduates who’d been in her class and gone on to have long and prosperous careers with Naval Aviation. 

And when Mr. Charlotte Blackwood couldn’t make it to a party for one reason or another and Nora was free for the weekend, she was the designated back-up plus one.

An opportunity to get all dressed up for a night in some glamorous Washington D.C. ballroom, sipping free drinks and chatting up some silver fox Naval Admiral’s cute, much more age appropriate nephew? Sign her up.

She might not have been quite so eager if Charlie had told Nora earlier that Captain Leonard Wolfe had opted for a more... down-to-earth approach. 

It was a classic dive, raucous, intimate, and covered in a film of grease and grim that made Nora regard the slight cloudiness of the Dirty Shirley with suspicion. A free drink is a free drink. She shrugged and accepted the drink with a closed lip smile, plucking a cherry from the carbonation and popping it into her mouth. 

Chewing, Nora looked for a quick getaway and instead, found a familiar face.

Dressed in a respectable shirt and well-fitting slacks, golden from his latest deployment, Bradley Bradshaw was all alone next to the pool table, scraping chalk across the cue with a vacant expression, looking miles from here. 

Nora sidled over and leaned against the pool table. 

“Bradley Bradshaw,” Nora said coolly, mixing in the grenadine with a stirring straw and sipping from the end. Pure saccharine sweetness… and a very prominent aftertaste of bottom-shelf vodka. “Look at you in your dress shoes.” She playfully nudged the side of his shiny black shoe. “I haven’t seen you at one of these in a while. You been in hiding or just hiding from me?” 

He stiffened, ever so slightly, but Bradley inclined his head with a smile.

“Never, Rogers,” Bradley replied, holding his hand over his heart like an oath. “Who would hide from someone who looks as beautiful as you do in that dress?” His gaze might as well have been a caress, drinking in the silver of the dress. 

She did a small spin, even though Bradley didn’t ask, shimmering in the dim light of the dive bar like an errant disco ball, a shooting star that’s wandered down to the surface and gotten lost. 

“Just between us…” Nora leaned in. “I’m worried I’m a little overdressed.” 

His smile widened. “You definitely are. You kind of look like an asshole.” 

She gaped at him, and Bradley laughed at her surprised expression, but something about the sound was strangely hollow, a copy of a copy.

He sounded off, and Nora frowned.

“You okay?” Nora asked slowly, not wanting to cross a line or impose. He could’ve been waiting for someone when Nora came over. “I can leave you alone, go find some hot young Lieutenant who’ll fetch my drinks all night.”

She was rewarded with a small smile, and Bradley shook his head, almost too quickly. “Stay. Sorry, I’m just… I think I need another drink in me.” His gaze dropped. “You play pool?” 

She shrugged. “I prefer darts.” 

“Well, I don’t,” Bradley said simply, short and almost rude. He cushioned the words with a crooked grin, looking more like the Bradley Bradshaw that Nora knew. “Rack ‘em while I get us another round? What’re you drinking, darling?” 

“Dirty Shirley.” He made a pained face. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not coming over there and ordering it for you. A grown man like you can order a Dirty Shirley for a woman at a bar.”

“You might be scarier than my old CO.” And when Nora raised her brows, Bradley surrendered with open palms. “I’m going, I’m going.” 

His dark eyes shine with amusement as Bradley looks at Nora.

“Don’t pull a muscle with all that enthusiasm, darling.” 

She resists the urge to smack him. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“What?” And for his part, Bradley does look genuinely confused. 

“Oh my god, Bradley!” Nora groans, crossing her arms over her chest, which has the effect of dragging an already low neckline even lower. His eyes follow not so subtly. “You are the one who was like, Let’s have sex to kill time or whatever, and all of the sudden, I’m expected to what? Set the mood?” 

Her exasperation sweetens into something simpering and mocking, and Nora bats her lashes. “Touch me with your big, strong, capable Naval aviator hands, Lieutenant Bradshaw, or I’ll – ”  

Neither of them find out what Nora would do.

He slides across the seat in a heartbeat and swallows her words with an enthusiastic kiss, crowding her back against the window, warm against the bare skin exposed in the low back of the dress. 

Before Nora can do much more than pant into his mouth, Bradley is pulling her from the seat with his strong hands and sets her down in his lap, grasping her waist in a firm grip, holding her against him.

His shirt is soft to the touch, and Nora smooths her palms over his shoulders, over his arms, caught and confined in the fabric. Impatient, she pulls at the hem, and Bradley is more than happy to take the hint. 

Getting him out of the shirt probably would go a whole lot smoother if Bradley wasn’t so tall and Nora wasn’t so on top of him, but after some determined fumbling and awkward maneuvering – Bradley smacks the ceiling twice and nearly knocks her out of his lap once – he manages to wrestle it onto the dash, cursing the whole way there.

Nora giggles. 

She’s still giggling when Bradley catches her chin, gaze warm with mirth and want, and pulls her into another long and slightly sloppy kiss. He is hard underneath her, and Nora feels lighter than air with a hand on the back of his neck, making encouraging sounds against his mouth.

He reaches under the dress, skimming a rough palm over the back of her exposed thigh, and Nora pulls back.

“Hold on,” she says, breathless.

She nods pointedly at the windshield.

He needs a second to catch up. 

“It’s dark out,” Bradley reassures, smoothing his thumb up and down the side of her neck. “And I parked down the street. No one’s gonna see.” 

Fingers curl around her thigh, easing her back down on his – 

She shakes her head, firm and unmoving. “Someone could have their flashlight on on their way to their car. And if Charlie has to hear about this from some drunk Admiral, I will die of embarrassment and bring you down with me.” A cool smirk. “What else’ve you got for me, Bradshaw?” 

“Right…” Bradley pauses. “Back seat?” 

They’d only made it through a few games before some older Naval officers – around the same age as Captain Wolfe – claimed the next one, but by then, Nora and Bradley were already several drinks in. 

Having an open bar meant that drinks became both a prize and a forfeit. 

She went in search of water – because, yeah, wow – while Bradley slumped on the nearest stool and watched the older Naval aviators set up their game.

And when Nora returned, waters in hand, Bradley had that same look on his face, a strange forlorn expression.

He glanced over as Nora sat down, and asked suddenly, “Wanna know why I stopped going to these?”

Honestly, all Nora really wanted was to drink some water and maybe check to see if the kitchen serves nachos and not puke tonight. 

She gulped down most of the water in one long pull and wiped the back of her across her mouth, probably smearing lip gloss all across her chin and mouth. It was all she could do not to let out of undignified cough. 

Another glass sat between them, but Bradley didn’t move to pick it up.

Sensing that Bradley was waiting for an answer, Nora offered a quick, “Sure, Bradshaw,” and slowly pushed at the water glass, feeling a little like a cat about to push it from the surface, until Bradley’s hand closed around it.

Between the music and the loud buzz of conversation, Bradley’s sigh was barely audible. He started, slowly, “Mom and I used to get invited to shit like this all the time when I was a kid, and starting out, I loved it. It was cool, getting to be around all these cool older guys who’re actual fighter pilots and have so many cool stories. It wasn’t really my mom’s scene – not without my dad, but I’d go with…” 

A pained expression flashed across his face, a mixture of anger and hatred and hurt, raw and deep and jagged, and Nora could fill in the blanks. 

He’d gone with Maverick. 

He continued, “But after a while, I realized I only got invited because I was a Gold Star kid. People felt sorry for me. Look at the sad kid with the dead dad. Made me feel like shit, you know? And now, I’m a Lieutenant. I might not’ve gone to the Academy like Hangman – ” 

He spat out the name with such venom that Nora’s lips parted automatically to ask who that was, but Bradley was on a roll now. 

“But I ended up in the same damn place as them. I’ve earned my spot.” 

An abrupt belch jolted him, and Bradley drained the water in a long continuous swallow that made Nora raise her eyebrows. 

“Guys like them,” Bradley nodded at the men who were now in the middle of nine ball game, gaze unfocused. “Guys like Wolfman look at me, and it’s like they’re looking at a fucking ghost. It’s almost worse.” His voice broke ever so slightly.

She pretended not to notice, sparing him, and Nora rubbed at a pinched spot in her chest.

She used to love it when she was younger, preening at every you look so much like your mom, scouring the scrapbooks and seeing a familiar smile on a face that wasn’t her own on the wrinkled pages. 

After Mom died, Nora kind of hated her own reflection, hated the uncanny feeling that someone was looking at her and not seeing her but a copy of a copy of someone else. 

She’s made peace with it since then. Eventually. 

And in a less inebriated state, Nora might’ve been able to articulate something, anything that might be a half-decent bit of wisdom, paraphrased from years and years of painful self-awareness and therapy. 

Right now, all Nora could do was reach for his nearest shoulder and give him a good solid poke, all muscle, and say, all gentleness, “You don’t feel like a ghost to me, Bradshaw.” 

Smiling sadly, Nora eased back, but Bradley caught her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, a silent thank you that couldn’t push through the emotion swimming in his sad eyes. 

A beat passed.

And Bradley stood abruptly, nearly knocking his stool over. 

“You want to do a shot? Wolfman’s buying.”  

When Nora nods, Bradley springs into action.

Guiding Nora over the seat, a careful hand resting on the nape of her neck to keep her from hitting the ceiling. Stepping out, then back in because Bradley is far too tall and wide to clamber over the bench. 

He is well-practiced, probably from doing this before.  

She is alone for a split second, bathed in the sound of the chirping crickets and her own shallow breaths. Fabric brushes against her back, resting on something that might be his shirt. 

Bradley pops the door open and is on her again, quick as lightning, and Nora doesn’t care anymore. She welcomes the weight of him, the press of his torso against hers, the hunger in his grasping hands. 

He’s a damn good kisser, coaxing her lips open and slipping his tongue into her mouth again, nipping at her bottom lip. He cups her face with large hands, scraping a thumb across her pulse point, and Nora sinks lower and lower into the heat, all fuzzy around the edges from alcohol and him. 

All she can think is more more more, now now now, and Bradley reads her mind. 

He breaks from the kiss, abruptly dropping his mouth to her shoulder and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the freckle there. He sounds half-asleep, voice low and thick with desire. 

Bradley mutters, “Sit up,” against her throat and slides onto his knees. 

That can’t be comfortable, Nora thinks absently. He is super tall, which also means long legs, and as spacious as the Bronco is – 

Nora lets out an embarrassing half-shriek when Bradley tugs her forward without warning, hooking her knees over his shoulders, settling between her parted thighs with a grin. 

She is still wearing her dress, rustling and glittering in the inky darkness with every breath, but Bradley doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get her naked. 

“Eating me out in the backseat of your car when I already agreed to have sex with you?” Nora jokes, a little breathless, a little embarrassed by that. Warmth flutters in the pit of her stomach at her own words, at the implication of it. Has it really been that long? “Can’t decide if you’re a gentleman or a slut.” 

Teeth gleam in the dark, and Bradley sucks a bruise into the inside of her thigh, blowing a cool breath over the spot. She holds back a shiver. 

“Who said I’m down here to eat you out? Kinda presumptuous of you, Rogers.” 

She rolls her eyes and smacks at his shoulder, catching the broad edge with an open palm. It probably hurts her more than him, and Bradley shakes with restrained laughter, which only makes her want to smack him again. Makes her want to tell him to get up or get on with it sometime tonight.  

She has a comeback, a good one, but Bradley doesn’t even give her the chance to get it out. He leans in and presses his mouth between her thighs, running his tongue against the seam of her through the underwear. 

Nora lets out something between a cough and a gasp, throwing her head back against the seat, arching into him. She might’ve choked on the breath, had anything still remained in her lungs to choke on. 

Everything flees the moment that Bradley finds the growing wet spot in the center of the fabric with his tongue. It’s barely anything, a tease, and yet, Nora is already quivering in his arms. 

“You okay up there?” 

His voice is unbearably smug, and Nora is having a little trouble remembering that really great comeback from earlier.

“It’s been… I’ve been… Shut the fuck up.” 

Hot breath ghosts across the damp strip of fabric as Bradley laughs, and on instinct, Nora jolts away from him. He keeps her there with a flex of his biceps, reaching up to tap a placating palm against her stomach, then down to find the edge of her underwear. 

He shimmies them halfway down her thighs, then realizes the obvious issue with this plan. It’ll be impossible to get them off in this position. There isn’t enough room. 

A suspiciously long pause, and Nora feels the elastic pull tight against her thigh.

“Rip my underwear,” Nora threatens, one hand grabbing at his hair in warning, “and I’m getting out of this car.”

“S’not what I was doing,” Bradley insists, almost petulant, but instantly, Nora feels the pressure ease. 

Curls brush the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as Bradley ducks back into position, abandoning her underwear around her knees. He winds his arms back around her legs, flexing his muscles, and with a bend of his wrist, skims through the wetness there, brushing against her clit with his thumb.

“Fuck,” Bradley swears. “You’re so wet.” 

And in hindsight, maybe Nora spent too much time wondering about the slight possibility that Charlie could find out about this and not enough time worrying about the very real possibility that Charlie would probably call Bradley a well-mannered young man in the future, and Nora would have to look her in the eye. 

When did Charlie want to leave again?

Nora cranes her neck, aiming for casual and can almost see the…

“Are you trying to check the time right now?” 

Fuck. She shuts her eyes tight.

“What? No. Do you always talk this much?” 

He must realize that Nora was, in fact, trying to check the time because Bradley dives back in without hesitation – and without mercy, licking a long stripe up her cunt and easing his middle finger into her at the same time. He licks her again, tongue flat and searching, spreading her open, circling her clit with sloppy enthusiasm. 

“Oh my god,” Nora murmurs breathlessly, winding her fingers tighter in his hair, starting to tremble around him. “Bradley.” 

It’s the most uncomfortable position. Her legs burn, bent awkwardly over his too-big shoulders, and Nora can feel the muscles straining, threatening to cramp and spasm, but Bradley is eating her out with abandon. 

And Nora is so so close. It’s dizzying. 

“What do you need?” Bradley asks, raising his head, mouth slick with saliva and her, eyes bright. “You need me to…” 

She shushes him impatiently, and Bradley laughs. 

He sinks back down, running his tongue back and forth in a pattern that makes her see stars, and Nora is gone, coming with a gasping moan. 

She goes boneless in the aftermath, slumping sideways on the seat, leaving Bradley to maneuver out of the trap of her legs and underwear without any help. He manages well enough, keeping the quiet cursing to a minimum as Nora stares at the ceiling and catches her breath. 

He reaches into the front seat, popping open the glove compartment and rustling around. She closes her eyes, reopening them when Bradley tugs her panties all the way off her legs, now with the room to do so. He tosses the fabric to the side, banishing them to the same bottomless pit as her heels. 

“You decide yet?” Bradley asks. He wipes at his wet mouth with the back of his forearm, setting down his hand right next to her head and leaning in, and Nora can see the slight tremble to the muscle. 

“I already said I’d have sex with you, asshole. Give me a second.” 

He barks a laugh. “Not that. The other thing. Am I gentleman or a slut?” 

“Hmmm…” Nora spies the square of plastic clutched in his fist, narrowing her eyes in the dark to make it out. Her voice is a little hoarse. She could use another glass of water right about now. “Do you keep a box of condoms in your glove compartment?” 

“Always good to be prepared.” 

“Slut. Hands down.” 

His amused exhale warms her neck as Bradley nudges her head to the side, pressing kisses in a path down her exposed throat. He pauses for too long again, as if considering the risk and reward of sucking a bruise into her skin, and Nora digs her nails into his bicep in warning. 

“If I’m such a slut,” Bradley whispers against her throat, nosing under her chin to get her to tilt her head back further, “what does that make you, huh?” 

She smirks. “Charitable.” 

He freezes in place, breath puffing against her neck, and Nora has to hold back her laugh.

Bradley spots the wide grin on her face, the mischief dancing in her blue eyes, and laughs. Low, in a way that promises retribution. “Charitable… Fuck you, Rogers.” 

“Well, yeah. Did I come all the way back here for nothing?” 

He shakes his head, laughing under his breath, and unbuckles his belt, freeing himself from his boxers to slip the condom on. 

“Wait,” Nora says, tapping at his shoulder. He freezes in place. “My neck is cramping. Let me get on top.” 

Nora sinks down on him, head dropping back at the sensation. 

Time blurs from there, a languid hue of stuttered breaths and soft, drawn-out moans and murmured words. Her dress is pooled around her waist, and Bradley turns his attention to her breasts, first with his fingers, then with his mouth.

She alternates between grasping the head rest and the strong line of his shoulder, rocking down on him. 

“You feel so good, so fucking good,” Bradley moans. somewhere in the middle, brushing sweat-dampened strands out of her face. “Does that feel good?” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of her shoulder, then behind her ear, licks a long stripe across her skin. 

Half-drowned in sensation, Nora can do nothing but nod, slack-jawed, giving her answers in the form of kisses pressed to the underside of his jaw, fingernails lightly scraping across his bulging forearms. And in the interlacing of her fingers between his, right at the end, when Nora comes undone again and Bradley follows her over the edge, spilling into the condom. 

He pulls out, sprawling across the back seat, and Nora follows him down, resting her head in the crook of his arm. They are still breathing heavily, coming down from their highs when Nora’s stomach gives a twisted pinch.

“What’d you think? Better than someone getting a drink for you?” 

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” 

“Well… You seemed to be enjoying yourself a minute ago.”

“No, Bradley,” Nora says, sitting upright, which makes her vision cartwheel. “The Tito’s.” 

His eyes grow wide in understanding, and Bradley flings the door open, just in time for Nora to lean out and vomit over the side of the Bronco. His loud laugh is cut short, and then Nora hears a stuttered “Oh god,” and the unmistakable sound of the other door opening and liquid hitting the pavement. 

And as Nora pulls up the straps of her dress and wiped her mouth, she spots her shoe under the passenger’s side seat. “You know, Bradley.” She leans forward and fishes it out, holding it up to the light. “I think I should probably stop going to these parties too.” 

He offers her a thumbs-up over his shoulder, then throws up again. 

Later, once Nora has cleaned up and tugged her clothes back into place and accepted the plastic water bottle that Bradley tracked down in the trunk, she sits on the back bumper of Aunt Charlie’s car and waits.

She is smoking a drunk cigarette, bummed from an older Naval Admiral who was standing outside the bar, and watching the moon when Charlie wanders out of the party, not even a lipstick smudge out of place. 

“Where did you run off to tonight?” Charlie asks on the drive home, and as soon as Nora starts to tell her the abridged truth, that she was with Bradley, Charlie adds, “And before you answer, I do feel inclined to point out the huge hickey on your neck.” 

Nora screw her eyes shut. Goddammit Bradley.

“Now I don’t think I should answer that question.” 

Charlie sighs. “You’re an adult, Nora, and I know I can’t really say anything without sounding like a hypocrite after Pete, but please don’t start dating someone I used to teach.” 

Nora exhales a laugh, leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the window, fogging with her breath. Her gaze is skyward, unfocused, watching the stars blink and out of existence between the clouds. 

After a moment, Nora says, “Since I have no plans to date a Naval aviator, I think I’m safe. No danger there.” 

Her phone buzzes against her leg. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Always a pleasure, Rogers ;)

Bradley Bradshaw: Don’t be a stranger.

Nora holds her phone tight in her hand and tries not to smile. 

end note: i don't know how many biho readers actually care about bradley and nora, but i love the context that this one shot gives to their friendship, so i hope you did too! 🩵 likes are always appreciated, but comments and reblogs make my whole day. i love hearing from y'all.

read the series

[st4rgzer]

Can you write a about the reader loving Matt sm but knowing he doesn’t like her back. Liek don’t have a super happy ending but also don’t have a super sad one. Do it inspired by me and …

UNREQUITED (matt sturniolo)

summary: the reader experiences some unresponsive feelings from a special someone

genre: angst

cw: taylor swift references maybe…? Is that a warning? Other than that I really don’t think theres much

a/n: as always, @iha8you ‘s request, ly, also dw you’ll get him🙏

This winter had been hell for me, it was always my favorite holiday, the cool air, snow, when it rained and I got to stay home playing boardgames with my mum, or I finally got to read that book that had been collecting dust on my shelf for ages now that it was dark and rainy. No, none of it this year. Every time I hung out with him I held my breath, in fear I’ll do something wrong, take too much space, become too much of a liability. Its stupid, just stupid, I’m his best friend, known him since i was 16 years old, but he seemed so much more older, and wiser.I belittle myself next to him, instead of just letting go, I take a mental note of every little gesture he does that correlates in any way to me, every choice of words, I save them to then divulge them later. It’s draining, not knowing if its just all in your head. If you’ve got it wrong…

“y/n? Hellooo, are you there” i snapped out of my meditative state.I was cross legged on my bedroom floor with two of my closest friends, I didnt even remember what we were talking about anymore.

“yeah sorry i was just distracted” I sighed tying my hair back into a low ponytail and resting my hands on my knees

“we were talking about Matt? Y’know you actually have a chance with him, did you see the way he talked to you earlier?” My friends were only feeding into my delusions, the other nodded in agreement. Even if he did actually see me like that, i dont know what i would do, we’ve been friends since highschool, everything would just be too weird and messy, it wouldn’t be right, no, not with me, not with him.

“No, guys, stop, you’re all just talking nonsense and it just makes everything worse” I groaned, placing my head between my hands.

“C’mon, who could ever leave you?” She says giggling, looking over at my other friend, it wasn’t funny, not in that moment at least. I felt despaired, I know it’s obvious I like him, maybe no one actually takes it seriously when i throw in some extra compliments once in a while of some flirty remarks, but I never try to hide it, except the real thing of course. I know my love should be celebrated, I shouldn’t settle for someone who just tolerates it, but I keep going back to the same thing, always, no matter how many people I see, no matter how many excuses I make to not hang out, its like a moth to a flame, I know im bound to get burnt, trust me. My friends keep convincing me, I feel petty having to listen to them try and make me feel better. Sometimes I come close to actually getting serious then I just think its a waste of time, he just always assumes im fine when my eye contact becomes non existent and my words get mixed up, I dont think he notices it at least, I dont think he ever notices. I guess this means im just doomed, It doesn’t matter how many times my friends reassure me, how many “glances” i pick up from him, Im never going to be one of his main concerns, unrequited. Im always just dimly lit, just enough. I should start trying to accept, settle, “always the bridesmaid, never the bride”.

a/n: this is kind of sht i wrote this at 1:00am, I’ll write more with requests🙏😊😊

[kickthecan-revolution]

I decided to walk the hour and 20m to my radiation consult - this is the first appointment where they do a bunch of scans and tattoo where the lasers go. The walk ended up only taking about an hour or so, it brought me through downtown SF (the TC Disrupt conference reminds me of the show Silicon Valley). After that, the Tenderloin, a spot in San Francisco that makes the news a lot for the unhoused residents and drug use. I’m not scared by any of that - I find it kind of fascinating to look people in their eyes and the stories their faces tell, sometimes it’s terribly sad- sometimes dark and sinister, and sometimes just your average person walking down the street. I also love the art in the neighborhood and all of the support, I walked by two volunteer efforts to ensure those who live there have resources they need. Sometimes it shocks me how people just stay alive for so long after so much trauma and abuse - what resiliency.

These driverless Waymo cars are such a thing in this city now. I’ve yet to take one but might try soon.

I loved walking by the theater Great American Music Hall where BND took me to hear Mark Kozelek for the first time. And how cool are the street signs as you get closer to a larger Asian neighborhood.

I arrived and screwed up the COVID protocol I was supposed to follow, when I got there, the nurse gave me directions while I had COVID and I totally misunderstood, so the techs were irritated. And I get it, they are dealing with very fragile people in the waiting room. So they set the room up with this massive ventilator and masked up pretty intensely while I profusely apologized for the hassle I caused.

I laid down and they said I was going to have to hold my breath for 20 seconds. For some reason, this panicked me, I still cough when I take a deep breath and I wasn’t sure if I could do it. They got me arranged and I had this MRI flashback and just suddenly burst into tears. I’ve no idea where it came from but I couldn’t stop, apologizing again. They were so kind and just reassured me that this is a lot. I appreciated their kindness.

We got started and my back started spasming in the machine a little bit but I was able to still hold still. I just kept my eyes closed the whole time and they helped me practice the breathing, and I did fine. We ended it and the technician who was initially annoyed walked me out and through the whole process - where I check in next time and even what color gown would be best for me. He said they are taking extra precautions with COVID because it’s taking people so long to recover from it, which made me feel better. He gave my arm a little pat and I thanked him again for how nice he was.

I went to the lobby and just started shaking. I sent a voice memo to my sister who already had an intense appointment with her oncologist today (it was positive but hard for her to take in). I felt nauseous and shaky and all of the sudden, really cold and hungry so I called an Uber and while I waited, ordered some pasta I knew would be home when I got there. I love Door Dash so much. I crawled under the covers and ate a little, and now I’m feeling a little more centered. I really want to nap but I’m going to try to stay up so I can sleep well tonight.

I’ll be finished with the radiation on December 03. My current plan is to walk there for exercise, and then Lyft home or maybe even walk home, we’ll see. The weather is getting colder but my intuition is telling me I need to start exercising for my mental health and overall wellbeing, so that’s the plan. I start next Monday, how wild. The appointments are 15m long vs an hour so I’ll be in and out. I hope it goes by quickly.

I’ve been meditating a lot on strength just finding us when we need it, and my friend Ashley sent me this today. It hung on the office wall of her radiation lobby. The Universe is in front of me, behind me, to my left and to my right. I’m held in Love. I can do this.

[noeasyisnoisy]

‼️TBB EP 10 & 11 SPOILERS BELOW CUT‼️

ep 10

who tf are these people

ykw good for you emerie

ARE WE FINALLY GONNA KNOW WHAT THE EMPIRE IS DOING

“YOUR responsibility” hemlock is setting her up for something 

kids?

OH MY FUCKING GOD ITS INQUISITORS I THINK

omg those poor kids :(

why is bro smirking like that HELP

oh my god they’re gonna take that child.

BANE AGAIN??

poor baby omg MY HEART

i have a soft spot for kids i’m sorry 

EVA IS ADORABLE

“when i’ll be going home.. can you find out for me?” IM IN PUBLIC IM GONNA START CRYING STOP

i don’t trust this green kid

CALLED IT

omg he just wants to go home IM GOING TO SOB

“i was following protocol” = “good soldiers follow orders”

why did i know his name would be jax

am i psychic or have we heard it before and i’m js forgetting

nala se 💔

“there is nothing i can do” YES THERE IS BE SO FR

NO NOT TARKIN 

ngl i’m kinda surprised tarkin doesn’t know abt the project

OH MY GOD

PHEE

NO

omg what if (if he’s tech) she snaps him out of it.

“how many others like this have you captured?” oh honey you have no idea

i can’t stop thinking about the baby and his mother and THIS IS REALLY SAD

DID THEY KILL JAX???

“we just wanna go home” STOP.

SHE KEPT THE HAY LULA

AND GAVE IT TO EVA

SHE KEPT THE HAY LULA AND GAVE IT TO EVA!!!!

i’m rooting for you emerie

ep 11

where are we

PHEE!!

oh my god phee. (i remembered the convo w maybe tech)

IS THIS A TRAP

ITS A TRAP

I CALLED IT

PHEE WATCH OUT

i’m trying so hard not to get up my hopes that it’s tech rn.

what did he grab 🤨

tbb’s location or smth maybe??

SHE KNOWS

sneaky bitch

maybe tech’s ship reminds me of padmé’s ship a bit

not exactly but kinda similar? maybe it’s js the general shape

PABU

NO

pabu’s gonna be gone

NO THE CADETS

oh god are they gonna leave right before pabu’s attacked 

TECHS GOGGLES.

GET OUT

STOP

AND LULA

OH MY GOD

i’m currently bawling my eyes out

notice how the island is completely in the dark

god i love lighting

HUNTER KNOWS

NO HE SEES HER

OMG NO

WRECKER KNOWS

holy fucking shit.

HOLY SHIT

HE BETTER BE ALIVE

IF THEY KILLED HIM ISTG

CAN I NOT CRY FOR TWO SECONDS

hunter knows

HOLY FUCK

I KNEW IT

PABUS GOING DOWN

ok this music slaps though

maybe tech feels like tech but the voice (accent, tone, everything) is SO different

my heart hurts omg

OMEGA SWEETIE NO ITS NOT YOUR FAULT

“i’ve barely done anything yet” first of all BE SO FR second yep oahu is a goner

ok but protective crosshair hits different every time

BATCHER STOP

if they kill batcher.

OH THANK GOD HES ALIVE

JENNIFER YOU SCARED ME.

why was hunter taking out that trooper kinda..

EAT HUNTER

GOD HES HOT

maybe tech no. 

STOP

omgomgomgogmogmg

HES ALIVE BUT IM STILL SOBBING JESUS

I NEED TO CALM DOWN

OMEGA YOU ARE NOT GETTING CAPTURED

STOP IT.

she’s smart but it’s too risky

she’s grown up so much holy shit

“then you never should’ve come here in the first place” I THOUGHT HE WAS GONNA KILL EVERYONE OMG

crosshair your hand better not start shaking.

HIS NOISE

HIS SIGNATURE NOISE

IN THE MUSIC

ITS BACK (it might’ve been back for a while but i didn’t notice it)

THANK GOD HUNTER

WET HAIR HUNTER⁉️⁉️⁉️

IM TOO HURT TO APPRECIATE FULLY THOUGH

update: i rewatched and that hair is NOT wet 😔

BATCHER!!!!!

oh my god hunter’s gonna be PISSED

i’m crying again

NONONO

HUNTER SAVE CROSS NOW.

NO

NO

NO

NO

omega what do you know

is she meditating

THE FORCE???

IS SHE GONNA TAP IN AND TELL THEM BC IDK WHAT ELSE THEYD DO

ok so my final thoughts are i am HURT and still crying WHAT THE FUCK JENNIFER

[avatar4life]

Agh!" Reader groans as she felt another kick on her face., she betterns her fighting stance and looks at the spirit and counterattack it's moves, dodging another kick and going to punch it on the jaw, making it dizzy for a moment, and so, using the moment of distraction, she kicks it side and then knees it under the chin, making it fall on the ground. Jus as the spirit is about to get up, a small dark orb is on front of its face, stopping it "don't move" reader warns as she stands on its chest, panting heavily due to the intense and long practice. The spirit looks surprised by the action before it smiles at her proudly and gets up "good job you're ready..." Reader looks at it in glee "physically" it ends the sentence, making her smile flatter.

"What? What do you mean? I've beaten you" she said to it in impatience and frustration, "you did but you have a heavy burden on your chest. You're not ready emotionally and spirituality. You need to let go of such burden" it sits down on the ground and takes a meditative stance. Reader looks at it in anger and frustration and goes to leave the training ground before a wall of light stops her in her tracks. She looks towards the spirit and freezes at the stern look on its face "you cannot leave until you've let go of your burden. Sit" it said in a way to show that it won't take any protest. Reader looks at it before sighing and sitting down, mirroring its meditative stance.

An hour pass and reader opens her eyes to check on the spirit, trying to gauge it's expressions "so not look at me. You still haven't let go of your resentment and anger", its words surprised Reader who looks at the spirit in shock before trying to hide her frustration "I'm not angry " she said.

The spirit opens it's eyes and looks at her "do not lie to me child, I can see through you", and because of those simple words reader's facade falls and she sighs "... I'm not angry... I'm sad... I'm frustrated that I lost my twin...no...my brother, just my brother" she said as she looks down, not noticing the figures that were starting to represent what is happening in her mind "I mean, not physically of course but I lost him in all the other senses, because I'm alone. Before the ninjas, before Wu, before everything, it was just me and Lloyd against the world, trying to follow our father steps in conquering the world, something all kids wanted to do" she says, the figures representing her and Lloyd, when he was still in a child's body, playing together and scheming together "but then...the tomorrow's tea accident happed and everything changed. He stopped playing, he stopped talking or even notice me anymore...it was like, I became a stranger to him...and that hurt" she says as tears starts falling down her child's face "....It really hurt... because he was the only family I had left. Our father was Lord Garmadon and our mother abandoned us...and when she...when she came back she only focused on Lloyd and I felt once again overlooked, unimportant. The ninjas, our uncle and our parents focused on him and no one seemed to notice me unless I made myself known by throwing a tantrum or when I'm alone with one of them...and even then... it's like they can't see me for me... just Lloyd's former twin and now just his little sister. All I want is for someone to see me, not Lloyd's sister, not a Darkley student, not lord Garmadon's daughter or master Wu's nine, but as Reader Garmadon. Is that so hard to do?..I guess it is if no one could do that. I'm not part of their family...I will never be" she says with her hands on her hair, looking like she was struggling to hold back from ripping it apart.

the spirit looks at her sympathetic and straightens it's stance "what about your friends? Strymyr, Namir and Phytios? Do they not see you?" It asks softly "my friends?...they do see me but...they don't know how I really feel but... they're also the only people who seem to care about me" she says as she calms down a bit, breathing slowly to calm her nerves "and do you care about them?" It asks "...I do...I really do. they're my best friends... they're my family" she smiles to herself at the realisation and looks at the spirit with tears in her eyes still falling down. The spirit leans closer and wipes her tears away with a small smile "... you're ready" it says softly. Reader's eyes widens and she smiles widely and hugs it "thank you...mom" she said softly. The spirit looks shocked and smiles softly and hugs her back "it's alright my sweet baby" it says.

Soon Reader falls asleep due to the strain of the training and the emotional baggage she unfolded. The spirit holds her and walks inside the monastery and walks towards Reader's room when it heard the ninjas talking about needing to go to the Eye of the Storm to find the realm's crystal. It listens to them talking before looking at Reader sleeping in their arms and walking away and to her room. It puts her under the blankets and tucls her in and kisses her forehead without a soft tone it says

“Good night my baby, save your strength and energy for the battle when it will come"

Whooooo I'm finally back, sorry for the delay, school was decimating me but I'm back. Hope you enjoy this and sorry if you thinks it's short. Enjoy, have a good morning, evening or night and remember to stay hydrated

[gorgeouslypink]

my beloved pink, i am always so grateful for you and i have the best news ever!! i entered the void last night. i used the revision meditation you linked in that one ask and after it, i just knew i was going to wake up in the void and i did.

honestly this next part is a bit personal for me and ik some people are going to get mad but you're the only person who I can tell because in my new reality, I never experienced it. so i am Indian and the rest of my family is very fair skinned and even when they tan, their darkest is like an olive skintone. but i am very dark-skinned, like extremely. so ive been called ugly and dark since birth by my family. I go to a Korean dominated school and they are just like Indians, they value lighter skin so I underwent a lot of bullying for my dark skin there too. I've been told many times that I'd be so pretty if I wasn't so dark and this korean guy that I had a crush on who liked me too would only talk to me in secluded places and when I asked him, he told me that he wouldn't date me because I was too dark and he would be embarrassed. You know, if black women feel insecure about their skin color, they can go look at their culture or black celebrities and feel inspired and empowered. But all the Indian actresses are so pale too, I think the only time I've ever felt represented in the media is Bridgerton but I'm darker than Kate and Edwina and all the bullying has given me severe body dysmorphia. I always wear long sleeves and try to cover my skin as much as possible. I hate seeing how dark I am and I feel so insecure. I barely leave my house and I have no self confidence so in the void, I manifested pale skin. and it's such a surreal experience. like to be honest it stills feels so unreal but I feel so pretty now and I'm so grateful. i hate that society did this to me but now i can walk with my head held up high and that's all I've ever wanted. I am really sad thinking about all the pain my skin color caused me and now i am ready to libe my life and love my body. thank you pink for everything, im going to be deleting tumblr now

hi love! first of all, this really upset me and im so sorry about what you went through. honestly, i hate how cultures are so obsessed with fair skin when every skin color is beautiful in its own right. i have more that i want to say against this but i don't want to come off as reprimanding you when your insecurity stems from the unfair treatment society inflicted upon you and if this makes you confident and allows you to be happy, then im just happy for you. also congrats on entering the void and ik, that revision meditation works wonders!! i hope you continue being happy from here on out 💗

[michelle-is-writing]

Missing You, Ben Hardy

Since Ben left for filming a couple months ago, I’ve been okay. Of course, I’ve been missing him ever since he left. The text messages and phone calls have made up for the lack of conversations we used to have, and the constant pictures he sends me help me still feel connected to him. But lately, I’ve been missing him the hardest, and I couldn’t tell you why either.

During the day, I’m fine. I go about my daily rituals as usual, but at night, when I get ready to go to bed, it’s like I’m hit with a mix of sadness and longing for Ben to be back by my side. Some nights, I can’t fall asleep until it’s past three or four in the morning. I can’t explain why - it’s just something that happens now.

For some reason, tonight is the worst it’s ever been for me. I’ve tried everything I can to fall asleep. I’ve taken melatonin, turned off every bright light, made sure that there were no noises coming from anything, turned my phone off, everything. I even tried to meditate for a while, but I eventually gave up when I realized it wasn’t working for me either. I've also had “relaxing” music playing since I first started getting ready to go to bed, but that obviously didn’t work either.

Every time I close my eyes, images of Ben flash in my mind. I remember specific times like when we go out together and just enjoy each other's time. I’m also reminded of the times when we go out with friends and how Ben always holds me to him in front of everyone with his arm tight around my waist and my back pressed against his chest. It makes me feel like he’s so thankful to have me there with him when he does this. More importantly, I remember the times when he said things exactly like that to me. Hearing the love of your life say, “I’m so happy to have you in my life,” is something that you’ll cherish and remember for a very, very long time - if not forever.

The only problem with that is with moments like these when you can’t be with them. In that case, you’re left to simply think about that special person rather than see or hear them. You can’t hold them or love on them. You can’t even laugh with them and see their face crinkle up because of that laughter. So, you’re left to miss them immensely, and it sucks.

It really sucks.

Looking over at my alarm clock, the bright red lights tell me it’s almost 4:30, and I’m left to groan in response. Last night, I didn’t pass out until 3, and I had to wake up for work today with only 4 hours of sleep in my system. I don’t want to have another night like that. Granted, I may not have to work tomorrow, but still. I don’t want to fall asleep at the same time people are getting up to start the day if I can help it.

Frankie beside me stirs in her sleep before getting up and heading out into the living room. At that, I kind of laugh. She must’ve gotten tired of me constantly tossing and turning. I’m tired of it too, but it’s not like I can do anything about it.

With a sigh, I turn on my side toward the wall and try to close my eyes once more. At first, I’m joyful that finally, nothing pops up. No images of Ben or anyone else. Just the darkness of what I’m hoping is looming sleep.

For a few moments, this lasts until I start thinking about how nice Ben’s touch felt against my skin. The way his slightly rough hands had such a gentle grasp when he touched me is something that can wake me up instantly, but I’m trying to not let the memory of it do that. However, reminiscing on his touch seems to be too much for me as I actually feel his touch on me now despite him being six hours away. The mind can certainly be one powerful thing.

“Are you awake?”

As soon as I hear Ben’s voice, my eyes shoot open and I quickly turn over to see him standing by the side of the bed, a smile on his face. Granted, the only light in the room is the dim red hue coming from my alarm clock, so I’m assuming the lines on his cheek mean he’s smiling.

“Oh my God!” I exclaim, nearly jumping out of bed to throw myself at Ben. Thankfully, he’s quick to catch me in his arms, but that doesn’t stop us from tumbling down onto the floor with a soft thud, resulting in laughter coming from Ben. Conversely, I immediately pull back to look at Ben despite the room still being pitch dark.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, my hands searching his face and head for any injury, again, in complete darkness. His answer comes to me in even more laughter, his hands quickly finding mine to press soft and gentle kisses to the skin.

“Darling, I’m fine, but I do have to say that was one of the best welcome home greetings I have ever gotten,” Ben assures me before leaning forward to press another kiss to my lips, but his lips meet the side of my nose instead. We both know that one of us should really turn the light on so we can see each other, but going by the fact that I’m on top of Ben, it’ll have to be when I decide to let go of him.

Smiling, I nuzzle my face into his neck. “I’m just happy you’re home,” I tell him, sitting back on his lap so I can turn on the bedside lamp. Ben’s hands instantly make their way to my hips when I do this, his fingers lightly massaging the skin of my exposed waist as soon as they make contact. Once the room has some light flooding through it, I look down at Ben and smile upon seeing his face after so long of having to settle for just pictures or FaceTime. He smiles back at me, a happy sigh falling from his lips afterward.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, darling,” Ben murmurs, a blissful gaze falling over his face. Sliding his arms up from my hips, he rests them against my back all while simply holding me to him as we lie on the hardwood floor of our bedroom. “Could hardly sleep without you, it was horrible.”

At his words, the corner of my lip upturns knowing he missed me too, but at the same time, he probably suffered the same sleep deprivation as me. “I had a hard time sleeping while you were gone too,” I tell him, feeling my body begin to relax on top of him. “I haven’t gotten much sleep either, especially tonight,” with a smile, I press a kiss to Ben’s jaw as I lean my head up a bit. “It's a good thing since you got home early, babe.”

Ben smiles with me in response to my words before swiftly sitting up with me still clinging to his body, my legs now on either side of him as his face rests mere centimeters from mine. The action surprises me for a short second until I let out a small giggle, my brain reminding me of my boyfriend’s superhero muscles that allow him to do those things with me, things that make me absolutely crazy.

“Let’s get back into bed, yeah?” He suggests, standing up with one hand pushing him off the ground and the other keeping my body against his. Once again, I cling tightly to him, my rigid stature only relaxing when my back makes contact with our bed. However, Ben doesn’t move, and instead, he remains on top of me. After a few moments, I speak up.

“Are you comfortable?” My question makes Ben quietly laugh as he knows putting his entire weight on me is not always comfortable, but I won’t complain either.

"I always want to be on top of you, love," He tells me with another sly chuckle before shuffling down in the bed. Now lying mostly on my torso and in between my legs, Ben peers up at me from where he lays his head on my stomach. “How about now? Are you comfortable?”

“Very,” I tell him, moving a hand to comb through his blonde locks. Once my hand touches his head, Ben nuzzles his face against my hand like earlier. In only a matter of seconds, Ben's eyes fall shut as he a soft sigh leaves his nose.

“I missed you… so much,” he admits, “I’d really like it if you came with me next time, even if it’s just for a week,” Ben’s eyes open after his last statement, looking intently at me as I process his suggestion. It would be great to spend that time with him, but I never asked before as I didn't want to distract him while he works.

"As much as I loved your greeting from earlier," Ben speaks up once more, breaking me away from my thoughts and over I’d love it even more if you greeted me like that after filming.”

[keru0]

You Are Loved

Hello tk community!! I wouldn't say I'm entirely new to the tk community but I have only just started interacting VERY recently. However, I feel like I need to start posting some of the fics I have in my head, so why not start it off with some lee!Thoma???

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Ships/Pairings: Thoma/Ayato (Romantic)

                              lee!Thoma, ler!Ayato

Summary: Ayato can't sleep again and finds Thoma sitting outside by himself. Wanting to cheer up his friend, Ayato decides to take matters into his own hands.

Contains: Sfw, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 2128

====================================

Ayato can't sleep.

This isn't new for him. He's been tossing and turning in bed for the last three hours, and still isn't tired in the slightest. Just like always, he has so much paperwork to go through and event details to confirm that the stress is eating away at him, forcing him to stay up.

Usually he would fight it and try to meditate, but even that isn't working. It's on nights like these when Ayato goes to the kitchen to prepare himself some herbal tea to help him sleep, which is exactly what he's doing now.

Walking to the kitchen in his pajamas, he thinks back to the time Thoma introduced this remedy to him...

*     *     *

Ayato's stress and insomnia were keeping him up, so he decided to get some fresh air. Going outside, he saw Thoma sweeping the deck. "Thoma?" he had asked. "What are you doing up so late? And outside at that."

"My Lord! I was just finishing up some duties before I went to bed. I'd rather do them now than worry about them tomorrow." Thoma laughed. "May I ask...what are you doing up so late? I would have thought you'd be asleep at this time of night."

"Well, Thoma, I was trying to...but the stress of all of my paperwork isn't allowing it. I thought some fresh air might help." He smiled at Thoma, "And please, Thoma, call me Ayato when we're alone. We're friends, no?"

"Y-yes my Lor- Ayato. Yes, Ayato. Sorry." He laughed softly, happy that Ayato still thinks of him as a close friend, though still a little saddened that he would never be anything more than that.

"If you want," he continued, "I know a recipe for a kind of tea that help with sleep. Would you mind if I made it for you?"

"No, Thoma. It's far too late, I'd loathe having to delay your rest."

"It's fine my- It's fine, Ayato, " Thoma spoke, catching himself, "I don't mind! I want to help you. Its the least I could do."

Knowing Thoma wouldn't take no for an answer, Ayato answered, "Alright, Thoma."

*     *     *

Now that Ayato thinks about it, Thoma has helped him through so much. If he weren't afraid of his answer, he would even ask Thoma to be more than friends, but that doesn't seem too likely, considering their circumstances.

As the tea leaves and herbs steep in the pot, Ayato looks out the window, suprised by what he sees -- Thoma, outside sitting against the wall, knees to his chest, head in his knees.

He's never seen Thoma look like...this. He looks...sad. Ever since Ayato had first met Thoma, he's always been so positive and upbeat, smiling to anyone and everyone he could. It looks so odd to see him like this. It doesn't feel right.

Forgetting about the tea, Ayato steps outside into the cool midnight air, and walks towards him. "Thoma?" he asks softly.

Thoma looks up quickly, a look of panic on his face. "M-my lord! Um...is everything alright? Do you need anything?" He asks hurriedly. Ayato thinks he can almost hear him sniffling.

Ayato bends down to sit by him, putting his hand on his back and urging him to calm himself. "Thoma, calm down. What are you doing out here?" he asks. Though it was hard to tell because of the dark moonlit sky, Ayato notes that Thoma's eyes look a bit red and swollen. "And what have I told you?" he says softly, "Call me Ayato when we're alone. Okay?"

"S-sorry, m- Ayato. I- I just wanted to get some fresh air before bed. Why do you ask?" Thoma put a smile on his face, but Ayato knew something wasn't right. It doesn't feel like a real Thoma smile.

"Thoma...are you alright?" he asks softly, his hand still on his back, seemingly holding Thoma in place.

"Y-yes," Thoma's smile faltered for a moment, "Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, looking away from Ayato quickly.

"Thoma, what's wrong? Don't try and hide. It's okay, you can tell me." Ayato spoke calmly, making his voice as soft as he could as to provide some sort of comfort to his...friend.

"I-" Thoma doesn't know what to say. Everytime he's ever come out here to cry he's been alone. He's made sure that it was enough so everyone was asleep -- even if Ayato was having insomnia. So why was he out here now?

Unbeknownst to Thoma, while he was silently panicking, silent tears leaked out of his closed eyes, sniffling softly. Ayato heard, carefully putting his palm on Thoma's cheek, turning his head to face him. "Thoma..." he said, thumbing away at his tears, "Hey, its okay. I'm here, its okay."

With Ayato's soft words, the dam that Thoma had tried so hard to hold, broke. Thoma turns into Ayato, sobbing into his shoulder, staining his pajamas with his tears while his friend whispers sweet nothings into his ear while carding one hand through his hair while the other was rubbing comforting circles into his back.

After quite some time, Thoma's muffled sobs quieted to sniffling. Continuing his comforting movements, Ayato whispered, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Um...I..." Thoma said slowly.

"You don't have to," Ayato rushed. "If you don't want to, you don't have to. I'm just worried about you, is all."

"N-no, it's alright." Thoma started. "It's just that...when I went to Inazuma city today..." he said, tightening his grip on Ayato slightly.

"Yes?" Ayato continued comforting Thoma with his hands, playing with his hair and rubbing his back.

"S-some people...they said that I...don't belong here. They kept going on about how I shouldn't be in Inazuma and that the only reason I work for you is because you feel bad for me. They kept saying how an outsider like me doesn't belong here and how you only keep me around because I do most of the housework. They've always said these things but I just couldn't take it anymore and-" Ayato, noticing how Thoma's breathing and speech is starting to speed up, stops him before any more tears could fall.

"Hey, hey, hey. None of that is true, Thoma." He comforted. "You know that I don't keep you here because I feel bad for you. I keep you around because I..." Ayato paused. On the one hand, Thoma really needs to hear this, but on the other, Ayato's so scared of letting his feelings be known. He's scared that Thoma will reject him right there. However, comforting Thoma is what matters right now, so, continuing what he was going to say, he takes a deep breath, "I love you, Thoma. I love you somuch. So does Ayaka, and Yoimiya, and Itto. Thoma you are so loved. Don't take anything those people say to be true, because they're wrong, okay?"

"O-okay." Thoma frowned.

"Hey, where's that smile I so adore? Hm?" Ayato asked, a playful grin appearing on his face.

"Um..." Thoma tried to smile, but Ayato could still see the hurt behind his eyes.

"Oh come on Thoma, you can do better than that~" He said, playfully dragging a finger against where Thoma's sides meet his back.

Thoma squeeled. He squeeled. 'That was cute.' Ayato thought, becoming flustered for a moment, his sheeks turning pink before regaining his composure and continuing with his playfulness, quietly saying, "Oh? Don't tell me my dear housekeeper is ticklish. Is my dear Thoma ticklish?" Ayato added another finger to accompany the one already dragging up and down Thoma's backside.

Saying Thoma is flustered is a very, very big understatement. 'Did he just call me his dear?' He thought, giggling at the ticklish sensations Ayato's fingers was giving. "N-nohoho! A-Ayato! Wahahahait! Nohohoho!" He giggled, hiding his red face in the crook of Ayato's neck.

"There's that smile~" Ayato cooed, sneaking his other hand under Thoma's shirt and lightly scribbling at his sides. "Your laugh is so cute Thoma. It never fails to make me happy, and thats because whenever I see you happy, I instantly become happy as well. Does this tickle? Does it tickle here, Thoma~?" he teased.

"Ahh! Nohohoho! Plehehehease nohohot THAHAHAT! AYATO WAHAHAHAIT!" Thoma laughed, Ayato's other hand sneaking into his shirt and lightly clawing at his back. With the tickling and Ayato's teasing and complimenting, Thoma might actually die. Death by tickling. Actually, if it was because of Ayato, it doesn't sound too bad.

Thoma forced his mouth shut and smushed his red and overheating face against Ayato's neck even harder, trying to muffle his laughter while his eyes were screwed shut. "Mph! Mhmhmhmhmhehehe! C'mon stohohop!"

Ayato only smirked more. "Oh? Playing hard to get~? Well then, up we go!" Ayato laughed, easily picking up Thoma bridal style, one hand tickling behind Thoma's knee while the other was still working on his bare side.

"AHH! Ayatohoho nohohoho! Put me down! Ahahahaha! Nohohoho" Thoma hid his face against Ayato's shoulder now, not wanting to wake anyone up so they could see this...embarrassing...situation.

Tickling and carrying Thoma, Ayato walked them to his own room and carefully lowered Thoma onto his futon, straddling his waist, never letting up on his attack for even one second.

After he got on top of Thoma, who now seemed to flush even brighter, Ayato took both of his hands in one of his own and pinned them above his head, lowering his free hand to Thoma's armpit, not tickling, but just wiggling his fingers above it, teasing him.

"Hehehe noho! Dohohon't!" Thoma giggled, hiding his face against his arm.

Ayato lowered his face so his mouth was against Thoma's ear, smiled and whispered, "What? Don't what, Thoma?"

"Tickle me! WAIT-" With that, Thoma fell perfectly into Ayato's trap. Ayato lowered his hand into Thoma's armpit and lightly scribbled against it.

Thoma lost it. "NOHOHOHOHO! WAITWAITWAIT IHIHIHI DIDN'T MEHEHEAN IT! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE!" He is sure that his laughter woke up some of the servants, but Ayato doesnt mind -- he'd rather see Thoma happy and have his workers woken up by his laugher than seeing him how he was just a few minutes ago.

"Not here? Hmm...? What about here?" Ayato teased, stopping his attack on Thoma's armpit and instead lowered a finger into Thoma's bellybutton, exposed by his shirt that has ridden up his chest.

"No! Nonononono plehease! Nohot thehEHEHERE! AYATOHOHOHO! NAHAHA-" Thoma's laughed turned silent as Ayato swirled his finger around his navel. Tears of mirth were now flowing down his face instead of the sad tears of earlier.

As Ayato was still wiggling his finger in Thoma's seemingly most sensitive spot, he felt a tapping on the hand pinning Thoma's hands, and he stopped, releasing Thoma's hands and asking, "Are you okay? I didn't go too rough did-" Ayatos question was cut short as Thoma leaned on his forearms and kissed Ayato. Ayato kissed back.

Oh.

Oh.

Suprised and smiling after they pulled apart, Ayato stuttered, "T-Thoma! Hehe...uh..."

Thoma panicked, thinking Ayato was upset about what he had just done but didn't want to show it. "O-oh! I'm sorry my Lord! I- I didn't mean to-" He was cut short by Ayato himself.

"No! Nonono Thoma, don't be sorry! I...I liked it. Dont worry. I liked it." He said, cupping Thoma's face and kissing him again, smiling through the kiss and as they pulled apart. "I've liked you for so long. When I saw you outside I was worried that something had happened. I...I said I love you. And I meant it, Thoma. I do love you. And many other people love you too. You deserve to be here. Don't let anyone tell you or make you think otherwise."

Getting up, Ayato decided that he was going to bring that tea he started steeping and share it with Thoma. "I'll be back in a minute. You can change into a pair of my pajamas. Theyre in the closet. They might be slightly large for you, but they should be fine." he smiled, stepping out and shitting the door behimd him, making his way to the now lukewarm tea and pouring two cups.

Returning to his room, he was greeted by the sight of Thoma already asleep on the futon, softly snoring on his side. Not wanting to wake him, Ayato gently and quietly set the teacups on the table and went to get the blanket out of the closet. Blowing out the candles, he layed next to Thoma, settling the blanket over the both of them.

Wrapping his arm around Thoma and nuzzling into the back of his neck, Ayato sleepily said, "I love you Thoma. I'll see you in the morning." smiling against the nape of Thoma's neck, breathing in Thoma's sweet scent, both of the men drifting into a peaceful rest, cuddled together.

End.

This is actually the first fic I have *ever* published so please let me know how yall like it!! And feel free to leave suggestions for other fics or critiques!

[alpydk]

Eclipse - (Part 6) - "Invisibility"

2 chapters left the write. Will be done before the move...

The orb awoke and throbbed as his mind drifted away with the shadowed figure, the subtle glow growing brighter with each moment, and he had felt his body slow after each step. He no longer saw the grass or the dust that rose as his boots kicked forward. There was nothing but the musty smell of the books on the shelves, the surrounding candlelight flicking upon the walls, the soft touch of lips on his collarbone.

Ao3 Link

Mystra sighed as she heard Elminster’s questions. She didn’t particularly care about how Gale had returned, only why he was there with the slither of Karsite Weave embedded in his chest. Unstable, dangerous, were the words spoken to her as she gazed down upon the Material Plane at the mortal that had once served her. Maybe he was dangerous, but not to her, so why was it so important that he be saved?

Ignoring the arguments Elminster tried to put forth to her, she spoke with a distant tone. “With the uprising of the Absolute, it is important that we strike as soon as possible; the orb solves both the situations.” She viewed Gale lying against the body of the pale vampire within his tent and tapped her fingers irritably at her side. He was so quick to give his love, and with this, she knew she had been wrong about choosing him all that time ago. “Just deal with the problem.”

---

“… Did you just stop loving me?” Trying to sleep next to Astarion, Gale couldn’t help but hear these words keep coming to him. He could remember the sadness behind them, the longing, similar to the way he had spoken to Mystra during his prayers so many times before.

Such love for another mortal like this was lost to him as he lay in the tent, racking his brain for answers. Oh, what a tangled Weave we web; a moment of writing poetry and running his fingers up the leg of a woman, the shadow not as dark as previous days but still no clue as to whom this person was. He tossed and turned, jealous of Astarion’s ability to meditate so easily, and decided it was better to just start the day.

Gale left the tent, the sun slowly rising over the horizon, and he whispered a quiet prayer to Mystra before going in search of another ill-fated magic item. The path today would be a long one, over the bridge from near Waukeen’s Rest, through the winding trails close by and eventually, if they were lucky, to the Shadowlands. He held out little hope for this to be an easy journey, but the idea of soon reaching Baldur’s Gate drove him forward.

Near the campfire, he prepared the ingredients for their meals for that their day. Cooking had somehow fallen to him thanks to a hastily made stew the first night, and now he took great delight in creating each dish with a little experimentation. Tonight would be something simple, using the vegetables they had collected previously; a little garlic, next, some of the meat. He paused, looking at the items beside him, his mind going blank at what should come next. Let me work my magic. He could see the pot in front of him, the delicate hands that stirred, and he felt as he wrapped his arms around her body, her voice shooing him away from ruining another dish.

“You’re up early.” Shadowheart’s voice drew him from the memory.

Shaking his head, his eyes passed over the vegetables as he remembered what he needed to add next in the recipe. “Yes, well, you know how it is. The early bird prepares the breakfast, or something of that ilk.”

She smiled before sitting down next to him. “And we greatly appreciate it.” She watched over his hands for a moment as he examined a few carrots. “Something the matter?”

Gale furrowed his brow before replying. “I just seem to be a little out of sorts at this time. Not enough sleep, I feel.”

“Oh? Is Astarion keeping you up at night?” She said with a smirk.

“Not in the way you believe he is. With my condition as volatile as it is, we’ve resigned ourselves to just getting to know one another, if you must so know.”

Shadowheart gave him a look that suggested she knew exactly what type of activities that included, but decided not to push the matter any further. “Any further insight into the memory dilemma?”

He paused from the cooking, his mind already elsewhere as she was speaking. “Hm? No, not quite. Currently, it is but a grain of sand on the beach that is our current situation.” Gale gestured to his head as he spoke, the tadpole writhing eagerly at the activity of the last few weeks.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, memories aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

---

Elminster heard Mystra’s command but struggled to believe the words she had spoken; that Gale was alive and on route to Baldur’s Gate. After ten years, it was impossible and though he tried to seek answers, Mystra had little she could offer him other than the orders that he was to give; that Gale was again fated to die.

He left the Astral Plane, first to answer the questions given by Corlin the day previous, a vague response that Gale had merely been under Mystra’s service, and that the news of his death was just one of the goddess’ requests during their time together; that it again was on a need-to-know basis and to no longer speak of Gale, even with his nearest and dearest.

As he left the academy, he spotted the young girl, Lúthien, with her deep brown eyes, her dark curls trailing behind her. He watched as she practiced the illusion spell with her peers, conjuring up the bust of Mystra with ease and then laughing as they added minor features of horns or a moustache. He chuckled to himself at the innocence of youth, but knew deep down that in a few short months, the girl’s opinion of the goddess would change drastically.

His second order had been to aid with the girl’s mother. Mystra had little patience for watching over those she did not deem important and instead liked to delegate tasks until it was necessary that she be involved. Here, she was delegating with the use of magic upon the crystal ball that had been granted. She knew that Gale’s beloved would watch over him continually and would pray if anything were to go wrong, and that meant efforts could be used elsewhere, such as keeping balance in the Weave, or playing politics amongst the other gods.

The distrust that arose when he began speaking to Gale’s loved one was well-founded; ten years of little communication between them, building up a considerable rift. Elminster had watched as the ball had glowed its subtle green before revealing Gale on route to the Shadowlands, the traces of the Weave entwining around his very being. He heard the whisper of a thank you from her, and with that excused himself in a hope that the two lovers would find each other once more.

Reaching Gale would prove to be the most arduous task for Elminster, not in terms of finding him or even sending him the simulacrum. No, instead it would simply be meeting him in person again after so long apart; trying to hide the emotions of the last ten years of grief, of trying to convey Mystra’s intentions without the bitterness and anger he was feeling. The elderly wizard took his time scrying the plane for Gale’s location before observing him for some hours, watching as he cast basic spells upon undead enemies.

---

I’m a wizard, not a cat-burglar. This time, Gale’s own words rung in his head as they crept around the bend of the dirt path. He saw the shadowed figure walk ahead of him, her arm held out towards him and a muffled laugh as she pulled him behind the bookshelf; kisses placed upon his neck trailing up his jawline.

“Darling do keep up. We can’t waste time here.” Astarion’s voice drew him from yet another confusing memory that he longed to follow. Goosebumps prickled his skin, and the orb gave a gentle hum with the sensations the thought had given him; something more than he’d had during the brief encounters with his vampiric friend.  

Gale hurried after the group, the sounds of a few ghouls not far behind him. Their meeting with the Githyanki on the bridge had been unexpected and now all they hoped for was to continue unharmed so they could reach the Shadowlands by nightfall, where they could make camp and recuperate. His knees creaked as he walked, and a part of him longer for his mind to take him back to that dimly lit library of wanted kisses and secrecy.

The orb awoke and throbbed as his mind drifted away with the shadowed figure, the subtle glow growing brighter with each moment, and he had felt his body slow after each step. He no longer saw the grass or the dust that rose as his boots kicked forward. There was nothing but the musty smell of the books on the shelves, the surrounding candlelight flicking upon the walls, the soft touch of lips on his collarbone.

His foot rolled on a stone, and he stopped, his breath caught in his throat and his heart pounding. Rubbing his chest brought the orb to calm down, but with each passing second that his concentration faltered came another moment that his life, and the lives of those around him, was at risk of ending.

“Incende!” Shadowheart’s voice rose in front of him, and he heard the growl of a creature close by take the hit of the flames.

The undead had caught up to them and now he would need to focus for good if they were to survive; to take his mind away from voices, memories that weren’t his own, of his greatest mistake ebbing at his soul.

---

Camp was prepared earlier than expected that day, the ghouls having left everyone wearier than they had anticipated. The Shadowlands would unfortunately have to wait until the morning when they would be more prepared for what was the come. Gale sat near his tent, listening in on the squabbling of Shadowheart and Astarion. Tonight’s topic, relationships: Shadowheart had been trying to pry for information about Astarion’s connections for some time before turning the questions over to those closer to home, and Gale frowned as the vampire faced his attention over to him.

“So, do you have loves waiting for you once this is all over?” Astarion spoke inquisitively.

Gale felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck as he thought over Mystra and her love for him from the Astral Planes; near on a decade of romance and love between them. His mind then faltered to the darkness of the book, to skipping between the goddess and the shadowed figure that haunted him so recently. “You know what - that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.”

Shadowheart spoke up with her opinion on the matter. “You mean just waiting, like a lovesick puppy? Short-term amusements are much less hassle.”

Astarion smirked in agreement, giving a sly wink over to Gale, who sighed deeply. Their own short-term amusements had been enjoyable, but Gale knew he could not commit to anything or anyone in his current state, let alone have something like he’d had with the goddess so long ago. The only thing he craved right now was stability, for the orb, and for his mind.

Again, the orb pulsated, demanding another item. He’d been through so many in the last tenday and it seemed each hour was becoming shorter than the last, with the demands it put on his body. Gale crawled into his test, his muscles aching, his nerves on fire as he dug through his pack trying to find something, anything he could feed to it. A small necklace was the comfort he discovered this time as he held it to his chest, letting the item be devoured by the markings on his chest. He collapsed onto the bedroll, exhausted both physically and mentally, and let his mind retreat to the calm he had been so desperate for.

“Gale?”

 He sat up, hearing the voice, feeling oddly comforted by its presence.

“It’s me, Tav. Elminster has given me a way to watch over you. Are you well?”

There was a brief pause, and he wondered if this message would come without the regular declaration of love and longing as he had heard in previous days. Strangely, he wanted to hear the words, his heart longing for some form of comfort after the hard day.

“I miss you. I love you.”

He held the smile back and thought over the words. Tav? No, there was no recollection of this person, and he felt a level of guilt at how much energy they were putting in to contacting him each day, especially now watching over him almost as if they were the goddess herself. Elminster, however, was a welcome name, one which he had not heard in over a year despite his prayers to Mystra. With the orb as it was, and now the recent developments, having Elminster in contact could potentially be a lifesaver. Gale thought about what he wanted to say, knowing the spell’s limitations; knowing he had to be concise. “Tav? I’m sorry, but I believe you may have the wrong person. I know nobody of that name. Elminster, however, I require a meeting with.”

Letting the words leave him, he lay his head back down, thinking how much more time he had on this world, thinking of his goddess. Gale of Waterdeep. The words felt like static in his mind, as if he could not hold on to the memory. Gale Dekarios. An image of Mystra overlapped with another, their bodies the same but faces slightly different, one kind and warm as he had known, the other cold and distance. Even these memories were no longer safe, it seemed, and he scrunched his eyes closed, trying to remember the love she had given him. He brought his hand to the earring, trying to hold on to the semblance of her which he knew so well; the goddess who had loved him.

Evening grew and Gale took the time to cook for everyone, deciding that living in the present was the safest option. He listened as they joked. The knowledge of the tadpoles in their minds was not important when compared to the friendships that had been building as they had travelled the roads. The cool touch of Astarion’s hand on his arm as they all spoke was a welcome sensation, bringing comfort after the difficulties experienced earlier in the day.

“Come back to my tent with me, darling.” The vampire’s smooth tone whispered into Gale’s ear.

For a moment, he was tempted to go with him, to lie with him on the bedroll and place touch-starved hands on his pale skin, but the thought now brought with it a new emotion: guilt. He couldn’t do this knowing that the woman who claimed to love him was watching over him, missing him so intensely. Gale excused himself, hoping that sleep would be the cure for all his ailments.

[noxjanes]

A/N: Laisle wears this outfit in game now as her main outfit with her previous main outfit being used for important meetings and less day to day and combat use. I also have had ideas but no inspiration to write the stories,until this one. I did start writing Rhunuk from Lais’ perspective but I lost inspiration. But here is a fluff prompt with Lais and Theron after the 7.5 update on Hutta. “How long have you been standing there?” “Longer than you’d like.”

Laisle stepped out of the refresher on her Fury Class interceptor starship, she had just returned from a long mission on Hutta. The former Dark lord had lost the Jedi padawan she was trying to help. As the blonde put the towel to her hair, she sensed a familiar presence near her. “How long have you been standing there?” asked Laisle to her lover.

“Longer than you’d like. When did you get back?” Theron questioned.

“Not too long ago, I lost Sa’har Theron.” Lais responded, wrapping the towel around herself while she entered her adjoining room. Laisle grabbed her normal gear that she wore around Odessen, opting to keep her hood and mask off.

“You did everything you could honey.” Theron consoled. Laisle looked at her husband, her blue eyes held all her emotions, anger, sadness, regret, remorse. The former spy was never great with emotions, but the woman he loved was hurting in more ways than she would ever lead on.

“Come on, Lana taught Lea the basics of force shoves and she is excited to show us how much she learned.” Theron said while standing up and extending his hand to his lover. Laisle chuckled upon hearing what her most trusted advisor had taught her daughter.

“Thank you, my love. You know how to help more than you know when I’m this upset. I think I was so frustrated because of how I left my siblings when I was taken to Korriban. Sa’har left her brother the same way I left Skye and Christian, just she was taken by the Jedi. His anger was strong, he blamed her for everything. I think it’s how I thought my family would feel, that they’d blame me for escaping.”

“You will find her, and your siblings don’t blame you, they understand you tried to get to them, but you had to survive yourself. Now let's go watch our oldest show us what she learned.” Theron reminded his wife.

The pair went to the Force Enclave where Lana Beniko and Lea Shan were to watch what the child had learned.

“Mommy! I wanna show you what Auntie Lana taught me!” Lea squealed when she saw her mother. The pink hair falling over the child’s left yellow eye. Laisle and Theron leaned against a wall next to a Chiss Jedi Master who was meditating. The pink haired child had a training dummy in front of her that she was supposed to gently push with the force, so with an audience she used all her might to push as hard as she could. The training dummy moved back a meter from where it had started.

“Great job sweetie!” Theron cheered while Lais threw her fists in the air in excitement.

“Why don’t you go get your sister and pack some bags so you, your sister, mom and I can go on a vacation. I have an idea for a trip all four of us can take, but you and your sister need to get ready, can you do that?” Theron asked.

“I can do it dad!” Lea responded, sprinting out of the Force Enclave giggling to herself.

“Where are we going? I need to pack for us, tell Lana what needs to be done, prpar-” Lais started asking but was cutoff.

“Its somewhere warm, we will be gone for one week, the state of the galaxy is not up to you. You are taking a vacation, your mom, dad, brother and sister are meeting us there, a mysterious benefactor reached out about a new housing opportunity and I took it. Now go pack warm clothes and I will tell Lana how to reach you.” Theron explained while showing his wife to the door.

Laisle walked to hers and Theron’s room where a bag was open on her bed, the man had really thought of everything, Lais thought to herself. She grabbed her more casual clothes, as well as some more formal outfits for both of the adults. Theron planning a family getaway for her was exactly what she needed after her mission not ending how she wanted. Laisle grabbed her favorite swimwear to wear around others, Theron being the only person she felt safe around to show all her scars, both the battle scars and the emotional ones. The final things the blonde grabbed were some towels and the toiletries her immediate family needed.

“You almost done honey?” The girls have their bags packed and I have T7 ready to help us get there. Your Fury is prepared and your dad just said they arrived at the villa. The rooms will be decided when we get there, since the property is in our names of course. We just have to leave.” Theron asked from the doorway.

“Yep, all that's left to say is where we're going.” Lais responded, grabbing the bag before her husband could. Theron led the way to the Fury, where the two kids were.

“Let’s head to Copero for a week to relax.”

“Copero? You? Theron you aren’t allowed to be there after what you did last time.” Laisle responded.

“They forgave me for that. Besides you forgave me, why are they any different?”

“I married you, they had to deal with your most stupid idea. Treason isn’t usually forgiven.” Laisle reminded her husband.

“You’ve been to Copero before mom?” Lea asked

“When I was pregnant with you I went there. Your dad was an idiot around when you were in my belly. I had to stop people from hurting your dad for breaking all their rules.” Laisle explained to the child.

“I hurt people including your mom to protect her, but she didn’t need me to protect her. I’m gonna go tell T7 to take off so we can get there and talk more on the way.” Theron said to end the conversation. As he walked to the bridge, he thought about how much his life had changed in 15 years. He no longer worked for the S.I.S., was married, had a family and had finally started to learn work/life boundaries. He was happy.

[lunasapphire]

hiii, hope you are doing well

I have a question cause basically I'm a teenage girl, a medium and empath, and well recently I've felt the need to try different things, so I wanted to try to meditate, but I have aphantasia soo it's a little more complicated. So I was wondering, how could I really try to meditate with aphantasia, idk if you know what it is, if not it's when you can't see images in your mind, or very blurry/irrealistic ones.

But since I've never found a way to meditate before, I was wondering what it felt like? And what csn you do once you are full on meditating.

Tysmm for everything, don't forget to take care of you, to drink water and est.

Have a good dayyy/afternoon/night

(Y9u can call me Brooke)

Hello Brooke!😆first off thank you for asking, and for your little note at the end! take care of yourself as well! And eat and drink plenty of water!:) hope you have a good day/evening as well! ⚠️ warning ⚠️: long post

Now I also have the issue of seeing images in my mind and what I try and do is having the room set at one shade of colour, where there’s no extra light anywhere, sometimes I like to have it dark, but when I first tried I had a lit up room and I have like flash cards if you will, to look at before I closed my eyes to help visualize the shape a bit better, and I did this five minutes at a time on and off. - now I still have a hard time regardless! My meditation isn’t very visual, I more hear words come into my brain as I’m relaxing and sorts and write them down after and reflect.

But going based off of that you never have meditated before either, I would highly recommend trying a guided meditation, one that repeats like not affirmations but more like object names, there should be some on YouTube like that:) that’s where I started.

Mediation can feel different for everyone, my first time mediation I felt nothing and it frustrated me so my meditation was just rage😂 but as I did it more I felt more relaxed and a bit more connected with myself and my energy. - but I can’t say that might be how yours goes or how you feel, you could feel sad, or happy, or even weirded out. Everyone’s body is different, my awakening meditation felt so weird it scared me out of it actually, and since then I haven’t had a “good” meditation since.

When you are fully meditating I want to say the possibilities are endless for what you can do! You can tap into your higher self, talk to your guides, feel the earths vibrations, ask for prayers, pray, calm your emotions down, Astral project, reflect on things, get answers for things, it’s endless:)

I hope this helped steer you in some sort of direction of help🤓and I hope you have a blessed day/evening!✨glad to try and help!

[luchadorbard]

Knowledge (A NSFW Swtor Oc Fic)

(A semi sequel to my first SWTOR fic you can read here . Highly recommend you read it for not only context but also a helpful visual aid. Set after Knights of the Eternal Thrones and around the time of Onslaught, so spoilers abound!)

The Barsen’thor slowly strode through the halls of the Alliance base. The low hum of panels, consoles and lights coupled with the low foot traffic added to the almost meditative calm. She used to walk among nature back on Tython; however Valkorian’s mind games he played in the wilds had sadly left a poor taste in her mouth. In hindsight, sharing a Sith Lord’s spirit in her body should have filled her with more dread than she’d ever let on while the Dark Lord of Many Faces still lived. Akin to an ever-changing parasite that gripped not only her body but her mind as well. Her connection to the force. Everything that made her what she was.

But such days were long behind her. Tenabrae. Vitiate. Valkorian. The Sith Emperor wore many masks but for all his plots and deceptions it availed him not. She could now walk around her base of operation with a new sense of freedom; free from his whispers of power and free from the games he worked so hard to force her to play. Her stroll took her to the Force Sanctum, as sparsely populated as the rest of the base at this late hour. The Voss Sana Rea was meditating with some Jedi Padawans; small rocks orbiting the group. Keshani’s skills in deception and stealth ensured her foot falls were barely heard. She paused to stop at near by holocron. A sad smile came to her face as she thought back to her days on the Jedi council. The memory being so clear to her as if it had happened yesterday.

---

She ran a gloved hand over the ornate chair in the Tython council room. Such a simple thing yet it conveyed so much to those who looked upon it. A symbol of the greatest of our order. The very best of the Jedi and she was now a part of it. It still didn’t feel real even after the Republic’s victory on Corellia.

“Still worried it might fly from you?” A familiar voice spoke to her as she turned to see her old master, Yuon Paar. It warmed her heart to see the old human walking about after all she had endured.

“I confess, Master Paar. I still don’t feel worthy even after saving you, even after saving Syo Bakern from the First Son and aiding the Rift Alliance. I still feel like I shouldn’t hold this seat.”

“And yet you do.” Paar’s feature softened. “None of us ever truly feel ready. Despite that we must have faith in ourselves as well those around us just as we trust in the Force. The paths we take are the right ones for us, even if we don’t feel ready. We must walk them all the same.”

The Barsen’thor couldn’t help but laugh. Even a Master on the council she can still teach me. Fitting.

“I just wanted to see you one last time before your first council meeting. I’m about to head out, Master Keshani.”

“In that case, May the Force be with you Master Paar.”

“And with you as well. ” She’d bowed her head as she left. Allowing the Barsen’thor to finally take her seat at the council table. Sitting within it didn’t make it any more real. But it did allow her time to get used to the feeling and perspective of looking at someone at the end of the table rather than looking to them.

The council chamber’s doors opened, revealing the other Masters of the Jedi Council to join their newest member. Bela Kiwiiks. The Torguta still attempted her best to hide her limp, however it was still clear that she was far from fully recovered from her injuries. Thank the Force Kira and the Hero of Tython moved quick enough to save her from the Shock Drum.

“Master Keshani.” She’d give a curt nod as she’d rush to take her seat as fast as she’d could, no doubt to give her body a rest. “You’re here early.”

“Master Kiwiiks.” The Barsen’thor bowed her head. “I wished to ensure I made the best first impression possible to my fellow Masters.”

The Torguta couldn’t help but smile and shake her head. “I think you saving more than half of our order nearly at the cost of your own life made impression enough.”

“Indeed.” Grand Master Satele Shan spoke as she entered the room as well. “All that remains for you is merely getting yourself acquainted with the day to day operations of the council. I can assure you; it won’t be as intimidating as you think it is.”

The holo-projectors in the center the room started to flicker to life, as the electronic chirps signal incoming projections.

“Ah I see the last of the masters are joining us. One moment.” The Grand Master quickly pressed buttons near the center of the table to project the images of those who could not join the session physically.

Master Kaedan, Gnost Dural, Oteg and Shol Bestros all having there holo-images projected into there chairs. Or hover chair in Oteg’s case.

“Hello again. I trust we’re coming through loud and clear?” The Qel Dor Master adjusting his mask somewhat, Master Dural’s image was somewhat weaker than the others, but his features were still clear enough.

Master Kaedan looked to the Barsen’thor a mild frown coming to his projected features. He was in one of his moods, as usual.

“Ah, the newest member of this council. I hope you will serve the Order well despite your youth when it comes to such things.”

“We have much to discuss.” Master Shan spoke quickly. “Events are unfolding all across the Galaxy and we must address them all as best we can; yet we can not neglect matters closer to home on Tython.”

Keshani clasped her hands and leaned forward in her seat to study the faces of her fellow Jedi Masters, trying her hardest to ensure she looked like she fit in.

“First things first, we’ve the testimony from a Padawan here on Tython regarding his fellow Jedi learners.” The Grand Master inputted some basic commands into the main projector in the center of the room to display some images of two Jedi in training. One male, one female. “A Padawan reported seeing two of his fellow Jedi engaging in romantic pursuits in the Gnarls. While still young they should be aware by now, the dangers of such things.”

“I agree!” Master Kaeden said, as his frown intensified his projection flickered and distorted somewhat. “A punishment should make it clear that such actions lead to the path of the Dark Side. Perhaps even expulsion.”

“While I don’t disagree with that, perhaps a less punitive approach might be best for us here.” Bela Kiwiiks spoke with a softer tone. “We risk pushing them closer together if we’re too harsh.”

“They are Jedi! Not school children. They must understand the discipline that it takes to become a Jedi, and if they can not grasp this notion…”

Keshani cleared her throat, working hard to divert her thoughts away from Tharen. Less the current subject of this council meeting turns to her. Let’s not get kicked off before I even fully sit a full session.

“If I may interject?” The Barsen’thor still kept the same reserved manner in speaking to them as if she were still a Knight, newly out of the service of her master.

“You are one of us now, my friend. There’s no need for such formalities. Speak your mind Barsen’thor.” Oteg smiled as his large radar ears twitched somewhat; his tone warm and welcoming.

Keshani nodded. “I agree with Master Kiwiiks. Learners are very impressionable at that stage during there development. Perhaps we should have a private word with this pair of them to explain why their actions are so dangerous. Maybe a lesson of some sort to help illustrate our point. A Punishment that carries with it a lesson they can take away.”

“There is no shortage of tales within our very own archives that could help prove such a point but also help show them that they can still become Jedi. Provided they do there best to atone for there mistake.” Master Dural stroked part of his mask, no doubt thinking of many archive entries that could do as he claims.

“You would merely give them a slap on the wrist?! If anything, this proves that they do not have the fortitude to become Jedi if they give in to the first temptation offered!” Kaedan furrowed his brow.

Master Keshani looked around the table and considers for a moment. “Grand Master, is this the first infraction of these two learners?”

“Yes. They are both very skilled and capable for those of there age. Had this not happened I’d say their future among the order is assured.”

“Are we so overburden with numbers of our order we can afford to turn away such promising students? Even the strongest among us can falter in the path of the Light. Let us show them how to avoid such temptations in the future; that they can still have a place among the Jedi -and- takes steps to ensure this lesson takes.”

“You speak as if it can be done so easily, Barsen’thor.” Master Kaedan locked his gaze on to the newest member of the council. “A measure of caution must be used to guard against our students from being lured to the Dark Side.”

“With respect, Master Kaedan, not all of the issues of our order faces are solved so easily with confrontation. These learners could very well fall to offerings of the Dark Side if we -were- to punish them harshly. We must impart our lessons to them in a fair manner.”

“I concur with the young Master.” Kiwiiks smiles at the newest member as Keshani finally relaxed into her seat.

“I hope for all our sakes you’re right about this Barsen’thor.” Master Kaedan’s hologram reclined somewhat in his seat as their seemed to be quiet agreement among the council on this matter.

---

Hard to believe that was one of the last times I saw Master Kaedan alive. She sighed as she remembered hearing the news that the Champion of the Great Hunt slew him while he was defending Jedi artifacts on Illum. For all his faults, he meant well. And was one of the best the order. The Barsen’thor decided not to linger any longer within the Force sanctuary. There is no death, there is only the Force.

Her casual walk brought her towards the military hanger, her wrapped feet feeling the cold steel and earth on her soles as she quietly made her way across her base.

She sensed her beloved, Lana Beniko, near the operation control center. Calling upon the force she attempted further cloak her movements in her shadow and become fully unseen and unheard.

Her steps became even slower, cautious things. Like a predator very slowly tracking the scent of some distant prey. As she stalked through her home, she glanced at the Republic Banners that stood along side Imperial; a dream come true for her in almost any other circumstance; however the invasion of the Eternal Empire ensured that the days when the Alliance unity were at its strongest were the days of nightmare. How quickly old hatred arises once shared threats vanish. How quickly old allegiances surface when the shield we both used grows too cumbersome and heavy to hold. She steadied her breath as she thought of returning to the Republic. Returning to the Jedi.

---

Keshani drew her lightsaber back after her latest wounding blow to the arms of the Sith. Lord Vivicar dropped his saber, clutching his side. The deathly emanations of the ghost controlling him still wafting from his form like smoke. “Impressive, Jedi.” It was Vivicar’s mouth that moved but the echoing booming ghastly voice of the phantasm that possessed his body exited his lips. “You might even have triumphed, but my victory is already complete.”  

Her friend and traveling companion Tharan Cedrax slowly stowed his blaster and was already readying some kolto packs for the wounded Jedi.  Keshani kept her saber alight, ready to strike a lethal blow with a flick of her wrist should it come to that.

“My plague has spread farther than you can imagine. Jedi Masters across the galaxy are succumbing to it as I speak.”  

The Twi’lek’s eyes grew wide as she searches through the force for the truth. Attempting to reach out and pierce any veil of lies or final trick. Her grip around her duel-saber started to tremble somewhat as her shortness of breath grew.

“The plague binds these masters to me. Hundreds of them-the heart and soul of your order.”

“Free those masters, Morrhage. Now!” She yelled as dizziness started to settle in. Her own wounds from the fight getting treated with basic med-packs yet still her body pulsed with pain.

A look of almost quizzical amusement came to the face of Lord Vivicar.

“And if we refuse, what then? Will you cut us down?”

This can’t be it. The plague lord must not win! He -cannot- win! Her thoughts raced back to all the trials and struggles that brought her here. Uncovering the nature of the Sith’s plague. The fallen Jedi that stood before her in Parkanas Tark and the final terrible revelation that he was nothing more than a puppet for an ancient Sith.

She had sacrificed too much for the Sith Lord to be victorious. Finding the lost knowledge of the Jedi shielding ritual among the Noetikons to inoculate those infected. A ritual that sacrificed a portion of her strength with each usage. A sacrifice she made gladly to save Jedi-Masters. Across the galaxy, planet to planet, getting weaker and weaker as Lord Vivicar’s minions hounded her and her companions every step of the way. She was so closed to ending this. If she stopped the plague at its source, then the part of her that she gave to the other masters would return to her! The close calls, the dizzy spells that gave way to fainting. The trembling hands and weakened limbs…All of it was needed to stop this threat! It can’t end like this. I’ve given too much. The Masters of the Order must be freed!

Lord Vivicar’s body looked up as the ghost puppeteered his twisted his features into a bloody smirk.  “Kill me, and you shall kill every master I have ever infected. Everyone! Shielded or not, they are still bound to me.” He slowly returned to his vertical base.

Keshani kept her dual saber at the ready, its green colour burning brilliantly in the dark confines of the mostly abandoned Sith Cruiser. Even with most of her strength sapped from saving the other masters via the shielding technique, she pushed on, drawing on all she could to stay on her feet. I sense no lies in his words, no deception…No…It can not be!

In a flash her mind went to all the master’s she saved. All the Padawans who endured the pain of seeing their teachers twisted into something monstrous by Terrok Morrhage’s plague. She thought of her own master Yuon being the first of the infected. The paranoia, the fear, the greatest of her order’s mind warped by such vile Sith alchemy to do terrible deeds.    

“But what choice do you have? You can not let me live, and I am deathless. Your shielding talent can not harm me. You’ve lost!”

Even after all the wounds inflicted on her, the venom in his words cut deeper, stung harder. She glanced to her saber as Vivicar simply stood there, as if daring her to strike him down. She looked to Tharan, her companion giving her a knowing glance as if he wordlessly attempting to persuade her not to do it. The heart and soul of our order. They can’t die, I cannot kill them! There must be some way. There must be! Her vision blurred somewhat before she shook her head as she grew short on breath. Time was short. She needed to act.

She stowed her lightsaber away and took as deep breath as she could, and she summoned the last of her strength she could muster. Then I take the only path open to me…

“No matter what, Parkanas shall be freed from you, Morrhage.”  Keshani found her center and extended her hands, drawing upon the shielding ritual one last time. Lord Vivicar raised his hands in fear as he slowly backed away before his body started to violently convulse. If it is my destiny to become one with the Force, so be it. She prepared herself as best she could. Master Yuon, Master Syo. Qyzen, Tharan. Goodbye…

She could feel the last of any strength she had leave her body and shield the man before her. She could feel the Sith spirit fighting as hard as it could, trying to still hold sway over Parkanas. In a great rush of air and force Lord Vivicar flew back! Landing flat on the ground as the ghostly figure stood in his place, black as tar as red ethereal tendrils snaked around its form.

For a briefest of moments, everything slowed down, she braced herself upon her legs as she could feel it. The last of her strength had left her. She was spent. Her heart stopped; her vision was now blurred as she struggled to breath at all. All things simply fell still, as if time was frozen for her. It was akin to being in a speeder crash; one’s perception of seconds felt like minutes. Was this it? Was this her end? There is no death, there is only the Force.

Just as quickly, the moment passed. Her heartbeat returned as blood flowed through her veins and air returned fully to her lungs. She felt whole again

“No! This body is mine! Damn you Jedi!” The Ghost cursed as all the strength she had imparted to others over her travels slowly returned to her through the Force.

“When my strength returns, no matter the years-I will destroy you!” In an instant Terrok Morrhage’s ghost was gone. As if carried away from some unseen gust of wind. The shadowy tendrils that clung to his form lingered at first before they to eventually dissipated. He was gone. For now, at least…

“I’m…still alive. You spared me.” Lord Vivicar, or rather Parkanas Tark, got back to his feet.

“I have to admit. I’m a little puzzled on that score myself.” Tharan spoke up, his tone his usual heroic baritone with only the slightest bit of quizzical confusing underpinning it. She could tell, he was simply happy that such further blooded could be avoided.

“My mind is…clearer now. But-It was your duty to kill me and destroy Morrhage.”

Keshani took a fully deep breath of air for the first time in a long while. Even the dusty and stale air of the derelict Sith cruiser still felt like the freshest air of Tython. She looked to the confused and wounded former Sith Lord a tired look upon her features.

“Too many Jedi have been lost already. Including Parkanas Tark.”

Parkanas looked sadly to the side as he spoke. “Yes, Parkanas was lost. But Perhaps he deserves another chance. I can not return to the Order. But…Tython has its hidden places, Its forests. I could find peace there. I could…go home.”

“But first-Jedi, listen. Take this warning in exchange for my life.”

“You can’t trust the Order-or the Republic. You may be their heroine now, but they will abandon you to. Remember that.” And with that, the former Sith Lord slowly limped off the bridge and gave one last grateful look to Keshani before he finally turned his back on her and left. Leaving her alone with her medical doctor within the shadows of the Sith cruiser; when Parkanas finally left she fell to her knees, exhausted and looked to the ceiling as Tharan quickly saw to her remaining injuries.

---

He was right in a way. Keshani looked back on that memory with all the fondness of something precious. Even the darkest day of the past shining like a dream in the wake of all that’s happened. Still, abandoned or not, a Jedi’s duty is to serve. The slow partnership between her Alliance the Republic was a first step but she hoped that it would never have been needed. She wondered if she felt the same way the scattered and exiled order of the days of the Sith Triumvirate.

Did they feel they lost as she did? As anxious as she did? She contemplated what the future might hold Would there ever come a time where masters stand as I do? Lost? Alone? Scattered and rebuilding the order? She could hope that if this should ever happen again, the Order’s history and knowledge could be preserved in some manner, even if the Jedi themselves should fall. No knowledge deserves to be lost forever. In a moment she thought back to Master Gnost Dural and why it was so important to have a properly maintained archive. As dry as his work is, the library is the pillar in which the entire Order rests upon.

As she continued like a shadow through the carved rock of the Odessen she slowly approached operations centers and she saw her beloved, her better half, her dark advisor. She thought back to the first time she met Lana Beniko. The Sith Lord saving her life from a collapsing underwater lab on Mannan. She was thankful for any rescue in such a dire situation however she could never have predicted how her feelings for Lana would have developed from that first encounter. Teaming up with her to uncover the Revanite conspiracy and tracking the Sith Emperor to Ziost. The fact she broke her Code for her was something she could have never foreseen. I doubt Lana would have foreseen falling in love with a Jedi either.

She inched closer towards Lana who had her back to her, deeply focused on the console she was working at. She paused her work and sighed somewhat as she turned around to look at her partner.

“I can still sense you, love. Stealth or not, the force opens your presence to me.” She said, clearly amused by the Barsen’thor. Keshani dismissed the force that shrouded over her.

“You can’t blame a Jedi for attempted self-improvement.” She said with a wry smile.

“We’re married. Our connection is going to make any attempt to sneak up on each other nigh impossible.” Lana approached the Alliance Commander, her frown with her sulfuric yellow eyes making her even cuter in the Twi’lek’s mind. Keshani slowly took Lana’s hands in her own and her disapproving glower slowly faded as their faces were now inches apart; the Barsen’thor’s voice dropping to a whisper.

“We need another night together. Just you and me. No work.” She could feel a blush come to her cheeks as Lana batted her eye lashes at the Jedi and quickly kissed her. “How about a sparring match?”

“I’ll hand my current assignments to Agent Shan, your quarters. Now.” The Sith lord’s voice was urgent but not desperately so. More than likely Lana could sense Keshani’s own growing need; the need they both shared to be with each other. They quickly exchanged another kiss before they let go. Lana composing herself in public as Keshani walked back into the hallways, giving one last glance over her shoulder to her beloved before she moved on. Eagerly awaiting her wife’s rendezvous.

---

Keshani finished the last of her stretching as Lana paced around in the Jedi’s quarters anxiously, tightly gripping her saber hilt and ready to spar. The Twi’lek looked to the furniture of her quarters that had been moved to the side to give the pair as much space as they can. I wonder if she’s eager to get started so that we can finish and enjoy what comes next? She dynamically stretched, focusing on her legs to ensure they were ready for the work out that was to come.

As she stood back up, she took out her saber-staff, the yellow light coming to life with a brilliant glow, akin to a miniature sun. “Try to keep up.” She said in a teasing manner as Lana’s facial expression shifted from impatience to something else.

Her life partner’s yellow eyes told all the reaction that was needed without any words being spoken. Sith seemed naturally driven to competition, and Lana was no different and that minor bit of taunting seemed to awaken that side of her in full. She ignited her saber, blood red like a Manka-cat’s eyes, giving the Makashi salute as she easily shifted into Form 2, holding the hilt in both hands. The Twi’lek flourished through the air with her weapon, opening with her Ataru ready stance.

In a sudden burst of energy, the Barsen’thor leapt into action by cartwheeling near her sparring partner; bringing a series of overhead strikes before trying to transition into vertical slashes. Lana’s form kept to it’s fencing strength, her red saber clashing with the yellow as she kept defensive movements to a minimum. Not a single wasted movement nor energy in her actions. The Barsen’thor did not relent in her assault, leaping in and around her opponent, using the chairs and tables around her for higher leverage or the briefest of pauses before leaping into position.

A common mistake for younger Jedi was always assuming that a Sith’s usage of a lightsaber might reflect their code of wild passions and rage but such assumptions could too easily lead into being exploited by a veteran duelist who could sense the expectation and adjust accordingly. As a Jedi Master, Keshani knew to try and study a foes movement as quickly as possible to discern strategy; however, her time spent with Lana as both an ally and lovers meant they knew each other too well at this point. No doubt Lana thinks much the same. Much like all their previous duels, Lana kept on the defensive awaiting for her opening.

Expending energy rapidly, Keshani attempted to deliver a skyward blow downward from another leap, resulting in a prolonged parrying clash between the two sabers. The Twi’lek attempted to use the two edges of her saber to her advantage by pushing the uncontested edge closer to end this spar.

In a moment, Lana’s rage came through as she summoned her almost preternatural strength to hold Jedi’s weapon at bay and then summoned a quick burst of Force lightning to block the advance of the second edge. Caught off guard the Barsen’thor was forced back and as she predicted Lana unleashed all that she had kept hidden for this duel. The precise strikes and lunges of her fencing style came all at once like a tempest of blade work. While prepared, Ataru’s weakness in prolonged battle was too pronounced as she was forced on the defensive. Blocking and parrying, taking away the range that her weapon granted her as Lana’s counterattack didn’t cease as she took more and more ground from her partner.

Keshani, running out of options, hurled one of the spare chairs to buy time however it did not avail her. Lana, with one simple upward cut, bisected the makeshift projectile and the two halves clattered behind her. Not a second wasted, the Sith pressed forward, one or two more powerful strikes came, and she promptly disarmed her Jedi opponent, pointing her lightsaber but a few inches from her throat.

“Had this been a real duel I’d have killed you a breath and a half a go.” She huffed as she deactivated her saber. “You’re not taking this seriously. You need to stop seeing me whenever we duel."

Failure was always an opportunity to learn, at least in Keshani’s mind. She had already made a note of ways to push harder through a fencer’s concentrated guard. Her frown only adds to her beauty…

Keshani got back to her feet as she Force pulled her lightsaber back to her as she stowed it away.

“Well, anything to say for yourself?” Lana folded her arms as she awaited a response only to be met with a kiss from Keshani, one she readily and eagerly returned. The pair of them paused as Lana chortled softly.

“Every time with us then?” She asked with a hint of blush coming to her cheeks.

“You did say that the taste of adrenaline suits me.” Keshani almost giggled as she turned Lana’s own words against her. The pair returned to kissing each other as their hands eagerly roamed over there respective robes as they slowly made there way over to her bed.

---

Any guilt, shame or regret that plagued Keshani about almost anything faded when she shared nights with her beloved. Her own Dark Advisor. The Galaxy, its troubles, all her ills and worries faded when she devoted herself to loving her. To worshiping her.

Lana moved her hand to the back of her neck to keep her firmly in place, using her strength just enough to illicit additional excitement from her Jedi lover but not to cause undo pain. The Jedi Master could not fully explain why it pleased her so; the little things during there nights together such as Lana overpowering her and leveraging her strength or sweet lustful nothings she’d whisper to her only made the Jedi crave her more. Her cravings are almost as strong mine. It’s been too long.

Lana’s muscled legs continued to wrap and lock firmly in place around the Twi’lek’s head as she continued her loving devotion to her. Not even with any of her previous lovers did she give herself so submissively to Lana. That was not to say she did not enjoy her trysts with Tharan Cedrax however those intimate moments came from equal footing. With Lana however, she’d gladly submit to her, pledge herself to her. Being overpowered by her, dominated, using her flexibility in any way she commanded was the only thing she could conceive when they were together.

A long breathy moan escaped the Sith lord’s mouth as she writhed and shuddered, her entire body tensing up around her lover. Keshani could sense her building anticipation as she increased her speed. Her legs tightened around her head and back as they both shuddered in there writhing embrace; waves of pleasure shock waving through both of them. They both lingered as they savored the sensation of climax with one another before Lana slowly untangled her legs from her lover and simply fell backwards onto the bed, drenched with sweat.

The Twi’lek sighed heavily as she simply laid there before she recomposed herself, and crawled up to gently wrap her arms around her Sith lover. They shared one last kiss and silently rested together, there bare chests slowly rising and falling as they held each other and drifted off to sleep.

Keshani’s dreams let her travel down her memories once again, however lacking the focus of her waking ruminations. Moments, people, events and places all blurred together. Her arrival on Tython, meeting her Master for the first time, her appointment to the Jedi Council, creating her own Holocron with Master Owa, debating the nature of the Force with Voss Mystics, first meeting her future Padawan with the rest of the Rift’s Alliance, her secret wedding ceremony with Lana officiated by a droid. All of them playing and replaying as they almost blurred together.

Then came dreams she had not seen before, not memories of any sort but something else. Dreams of some prospective student finding her holocron and studying with her teachings. A woman who looks much like Nadia but was no Padawan. A great Jedi Master with an emerald saber standing against enemy of the Republic and the Jedi. Visions of that same Master taking a Padawan and telling her of the Barsen’thor and her travels. Just as quick as the visions came so did more things not of her memory.

Visions of a hooded figure arguing with the Grand master of the Jedi order, visions of burning capital ships and great planetary battle fields between the Republic and the Sith Empire. This hooded figure striding through the great tombs of the planet of Korriban, as this figure’s lightsaber turned from yellow to blood red. Quicker and quicker the visions came, far too quick for the Jedi to perceive in her dream. The Jedi temple destroyed, Tython burning, her old companions dead and slain by this hooded figure, her breathing quickened as she tossed, turned and thrashed on her bed as she could feel the heat of the roaring fires and the smell of battlefields across her travels.

The visions ceased, only to linger one image. A Sith Lord clad in armor as black as night with her dual saber ignited. Standing upon the rubble of Coruscant, she turned to reveal it was…her. Her eyes were as red as her saber, but it was the Barsen’thor to be certain but corrupted, fallen.

She awoke, more like erupted, from her sleep; tumbling out of her bed and scrambling to her feet as she looked down at her trembling hands. She tried her best to steady her breathing but could feel her tears welling in her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. She heard Lana stirring, she turned to see the Sith lord, a look of grave concern on her face as she approached her.

“I saw…I saw visions.” Keshani started to babble as her mind was still racing from all she saw and felt. “They couldn’t have been dreams, I…”

She choked down a sob as Lana quickly approached her and pulled her into a hug, supporting her so she still stood on her feet.

“I saw myself…-fallen-. I saw myself as Sith. Corrupted. Killing all that I held dear, killing everything I…” Her words stopped as Lana pressed her forehead to hers, attempting to calm her.

“Promise me…Promise me you won’t let that happen, promise me that…” The Twi’lek’s words were cut short as she looked deep into Lana’s beautiful eyes. The sulfuric yellow, telltale signs of the Darkside.

How far have I fallen? How much do I drown in attachment that I ask a Sith to protect me from the Darkside? I ask all that the Jedi comes stand against to ensure I can remain a Jedi. What has become of me? I’ve failed. As a Master to Nadia, as the Warden of the Jedi Order and as a Jedi master…

Her tears continued to stream down her face as Lana hushed and cooed her beloved as she stroked her back to settle the Jedi’s nerves.

“I…I do not know if my words can offer any comfort.” Lana started to speak slowly, a soft, almost mournful expression on her face. “But you are the woman I fell in love with. And…and I will do everything I can to ensure you stay the woman I fell in love with. Now, and for as long as we share this galaxy together…”

She gently leans in for another kiss and wiped away tears with one of her thumbs.

“My love.” She whisperd as Keshani felt all was right just for the briefest of moments before her fear returned. She simply nestled her head on to her shoulder and returned the hug to her beloved, there bare bodies pressed together in the cold metal room they shared. Unsure of what the future held for them. But knowing they would face it together.

(I'm tempted to write some other stories about my other SWTOR characters and experiences in the presented story-line if I can find the time. Hope you enjoyed these two short stories!)

[forestwhisper3]

Welcome back to [Not Quite] Midnight Meditations, although tonight, we are surprisingly more or less on time (as long as the clock still says 12 I'm counting it as on time), where I share segments from the darker corners of my flash drive. As stated before, these are all ideas that held my interest for a bit but were left unfinished for one reason or another. It is very unlikely that they will ever be fully fleshed out, but I figured it would be fun to share them.

Continuing in order from the last post, tonight's segment is Digimon again. This one is based firmly in Gen 2 and is yet another Davis-centric fic, but the concept this time is that he turns evil.

I do remember enjoying the concept of evil Davis when I wrote this (and I will admit the idea still holds some appeal even now), but I also remember being rather put off by the execution of many of the fics I read that pursued this plot. A lot of them had everyone suddenly turn on him because of one small mistake, or he decided he was tired of being "second best" to TK. That always felt sort of lackluster and unrealistic to me, so I tried my own spin on it.

This idea didn't get as much attention as the last one, so it's considerably shorter, but I feel like it sets the mood for what could have been the rest of the story rather well. Anyway, I won't keep you any longer, so here it is.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I-…I think something's wrong with me."

"…Wrong how?"

"I've been hearing voices."

Ken rushed through the forest, the others hot on his heels, adrenaline pushing them past their normal limits. Inwardly, he was berating himself. He and Davis had both considered this possibility, no matter how reluctantly on his part, but Ken thought they might have had more time- that it might not happen because it was so unlikely…

Ken stiffened slightly while Davis grinned weakly. "Yeah, that's what I've been thinking too."

"…How long?"

"About a month now. It wasn't so bad at first- I thought it might have just been the late hours mixed with my imagination…but now…" Davis gave a deep, exhausted sigh. "I'm worried, Ken."

So he had ignored the warnings. He brushed off Davis's increasing weariness, his growing paranoia and jumpiness at the slightest things, and his increasingly frequent concerns that something serious was at work.

"We can't be sure that it's something to worry about yet," he countered a bit fearfully. "Maybe you just watched too many horror-"

"Ken. That's not it and you know it."

Davis's smile was so full of sadness and understanding that it made Ken tear up even while filling him with fury.

He had ignored it when Davis had started growing easily irritated and distant as well, although that wasn't the case with the others, who had finally caught on that something was happening. Not that they could have done anything by that point- the confrontation between TK and Davis was still a painful subject for all of them.

There was no ignoring it anymore.

"You're wrong! The dark spores were destroyed! There's no way for them to be affecting you!"

"Ken-"

"Don't! I don't want to hear it!"

Tai was the one who had found the letter.

It was as if Davis had known all along that Ken would never find the strength to admit that he was slowly losing his friend. Perhaps, in a moment of clarity, Davis had realized that it was something that they wouldn't be able to fix in time and wished to explain. Whatever the reason, he had somehow managed to sneak the letter into Tai's home and hid it away in Kari's scrapbook.

Davis went missing the very next day.

A long, tense silence fell. It was the sort of silence they hadn't felt between them since the early days of their friendship. After what felt like forever, Davis sighed and stood up.

"I need to head home. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

He nodded and went toward the door, pausing once it opened. "…Just promise me you'll think about it."

Davis was gone before he could answer. Then again, he doubted he would have been able to.

Now, they had finally gotten a reading on their leader's digivice…but he was afraid of what they would find.

Every day, the digital world seemed to grow just a little bit darker. Any digimon that weren't at Ultimate level or higher would stay hidden, and there were whispers…

"Ken?"

The tentative voice brought him out of his thoughts. The others were looking at him in concern, but he couldn't bring himself to even pretend to be all right.

"It'll be okay, Ken," Kari tried to assure him, although the way her brows were furrowed betrayed her worry. "We'll get him back."

"Yeah," TK agreed. "Davis is tough. I'm sure he's fighting whatever's possessing him with everything he's got."

"You don't understand," he whispered, not caring at how his voice cracked. "He'd been fighting it for almost a year before he disappeared. The thing about darkness is its subtlety. It waits for the best times to strike, and it always goes for your weak spots. It's amazing that he's lasted this long, but even Davis isn't invincible. One slip is all the darkness needs, and then you're overwhelmed…"

"I hate to say this, but Ken's right," Matt cut in, expression solemn. "We've all encountered darkness in some way, and we all gave into it eventually. It's a testament to Davis that he held it off as long as he did, but we have to face the fact that when we see him, he won't be himself."

"You saw the changes," Tai added grimly. "The Davis we know would never act that way. All we can do is fight and hope we can reach him like he reached Ken."

Hesitantly, they nodded.

Still, they weren't prepared for how much their friend had changed.

==============