#and in the end for that drink & the next one we had to improvise & dump the drinks into trenta cups & just add whip the rest of the way

[freesomebodybyluna]

if you order one of those new frozen refreshers from sbux you're going to hell

[r001100]

NTTD Spoilers

(this is the one where I squeee) - obviously spoilers under the cut - 

This is to make sure you read the “spoilers” part, please don’t read on if you don’t want spoilers. Ok enough, now it’s time to squeee;

- Q’s cats are cuter than I imagined and wife and I already made a hc where James survives, retires at Q’s and knits them sweaters (apparently it’s a hobby that’s recommended for people who previously served in armed forces?? cute???)

- Q cooking was adorable and will change some hc’s from “he can’t function outside of work” into “he’s really good at following instructions and has even more talents than we expected”

- The movie has the perfect amount of banter/improvised aka real conversations that are flowing and feel... less like movie script?! (There’s a conversation Bond has with Safin that has me dsjgsjdgjsdgfsd almost 24h later holy heck yes thank you)

- The relationship that develops between Bond and Nomi and the handing-off of the title is worthy and beautiful and the timing and execution of it is perfect. Thank! You!

- I did not think I would like Madeleine as a character, but wow they made me do a 180, I like her now (no regrets)

- I will write a longer post on this, bc it’s a piece of culture I’m part of and am passionate about, but: Safin origin and the intersection of eastern Russia + Japanese influence on wardrobe and set design was mmmmmm *chef’s kiss*, it was worked into small details so SO WELL I can’t wait to pause screen and info-dump on my wife once we get a DVD release. That whole island was amazing, botany on point thank thank thank you so much

- Of course Q owns a 3D-printer 

- I’ve already seen a side-by side with Goldfinger and No Time To Die, cute easter egg!

- Felix scene had me cry, he had grown on me and James calling him a brother made me tear up

- Ok, comedy; I’m running out of words to say how well-balanced this movie was, but putting little funny elements in it (i.e. tea pots in the drawer, “it’s never 9 to 5, is it”), both visually and in conversation was great!

- Wardrobe, again, I loved the core character wardrobe, especially Moneypenny and Q! Q wears a sushi-chef apron in a scene in his flat that hints at the final destination of Bond’s adventure and overall wardrobe elements - foreshadowing had me dghfjgsdhjfgdfs Q in pajama’s, we all called it, blue matching set

- Locations, ofc great, Cuba was recreated beautifully, if anyone wants a mapped out post for London locations, let me know!

- Canon gay Q, not overplayed, no weird reactions in the movie, only positive feedback during my viewing (bless this city)

- Paloma felt real and wonderful as a character, I did not expect this, but I want MORE, heck, at least a whole movie with her. I loved Ana in Knives Out and I love seeing her in an action movie.

- There’s a line when Bond is about to embark for the island that had me cry and realise “wow, he’s not coming back this time” and that was... oh wow

- Social commentary relevant to current situations was subtle but appreciated (thank you Nomi), but especially making the audience realise that Bond has more integrity in Geneva convention and rules of espionage globally than M when it came to Heracles shifted the perspective of him as a character for me and I hope it does for other viewers. For a character to go through that was a big set-up for the finale, I am glad we got to see it! (If anyone kept count and knows his age by the end of the movie, do let me know)

- Radio scene, RADIO SCENE towards the end and everyone drinking to Bond (especially Q chugging the whiskey in one go wow you miss him buddy) dfgahsjdgfhjsadgfasd no wore words

- Soundtrack was a 10000000/10 I have nothing to add, score was beautiful, perfect hints at past pieces from the previous movies, eventually a nod to Brideshead Revisited, but what do I know about music, really

Predictions aka what I wish for in the future; 

- Nomi as 007, f you, whiny franchise gatekeepers, don’t care, I want what I want; Nomi and Moneypenny friendship

- Nomi on a mission with Paloma, Q on comms, *chef’s kiss* the chaos and potential this trio has is beyond what I can imagine, please unhand it, MGM

- That’s it, I would be super happy for Ben Whishaw to stay, ofc! Though he got confirmed for a series adaptation of “This is Going to Hurt”, a book I really enjoyed this year, so woooo!

- Equally excited for the whole circus around Who Will Be The Next James Bond?! From over a decade ago, was fun speculating.

- Less of a prediction, but seeing Daniel Craig get hurt consistently and taking a step away makes me hope to see him in indie movies again. He has grown on me as an actor and I can’t wait for Knives Out 2. 

[jamiedc-they-them]

Clean Slate (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: A debt in your hometown comes back to haunt you and sends you and your best friend into a tailspin of credit cards, cops, running and shouting.

“We don’t have to do this.” Your older sister (not by blood) told you as she continued to drive you, passing the sign that said, “Welcome to New Orleans”. This was it, no going back.

Well, there was. But you knew how Daisy could be with dramatics.

“You didn’t have to come.” You told her, even if thankful she came.

“Of course, I was going to come with you.” She said, firmly.

“You don’t owe me anything, Daisy.” You responded with, looking away from the mirror and meeting her gaze as she turned her head to look at you for a moment before it went back to the road.

“This isn’t about debts. I know I don’t, just as much as you don’t with him.”

“I do. SHIELD fucked that up. Besides, I know what it’s like to be blindsided like that.” You were stubborn.

But so was she, “There’s more to life than just ticking off boxes for people that are never gonna fully be done with you.”

You closed your eyes as you let out a sigh through your nose.

Daisy knew a thing or two about owing people, a lot of people. But she was always one who knew that those debts would never fully be paid off. She knew it wouldn’t work; that whoever it was would never be satisfied.

Did she say any of that as she drove into where your home was? Fuck no. You were her friend, her best friend, and a younger sibling to her. She hated this but loved you. She’d go the ends of the earth for any of you; it was why she kept driving and didn’t mention any of it.  

She pulled up at what used to be your old house. It had definitely seen better days, it looked like a wreck.

“You used to live here?” She asked, looking at the dump of a place. Although, in your mind, she lived in a van, so wasn’t one to talk.

“You’re one to talk. I’ve been in that van now for what seems to be a lifetime.” You heard Daisy make a noise that was offended by what you said. She let it go, however, and let you go in and grab what you needed.

You walked into your home, being hit with a wave of nostalgia. You remembered yourself sat on the couch that was still rotting away, shoving a needle into your arm. Some would say that would be death you were putting into your body; you would call it life instead. It kept you going. It made you say “Yes, one day, I will get enough.” And yet SHIELD hadn’t given you a pay check so…fuck.

Still, you removed one of the floorboards, finding an old squirrel fund you had kept for a while. Somehow, no one had found it.

You then heard your name being called, and saw Daisy holding a phone, and an uneasy look on her face.

Your heartrate picked up as you approached her, taking the phone from her and putting it to your ear.

“There they are.” The voice said to you, and you could almost hear how glad he was to know it was you; and that you both knew where this was going to go.

“Marcus.” You said, trying to not let the fear show.

“Aye, lass.” But he could still tell how you were feeling about this, “Wee bird told me you came home. Thought I’d give my favourite customer a call. See how they’re doing.” You were surprised at how easy you found the thick Scottishness in his voice; Fitz had helped with that, of course.

You closed your eyes and took a breath, “What do you want?”

His tone went serious, “Fuck do you think, love? My money.” Of course. He didn’t give you a chance to respond, he only hung up.

You pulled the phone from your ear, turning to Daisy who was leaning her hands against the hood of the van, she rose an eyebrow.

“You can go, you know?”

She didn’t say anything, she didn’t move either, “Daisy, I’m serious. Go, I’ll meet you when I’m done.”

She spoke then, “Give me the phone.”

“Daisy –”

She moved over to you and held out her hand, “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

“Daisy –” Your voice was more serious as you gave her the phone.

“I’m just…worried about you, alright? You came back here for a reason.”

“I need to do this Daisy. I have to make it right.”

Daisy sighed, “Not alone. And besides –”

“You’re my friend, Y/N. And I’m coming with you.” She said, in her tone that meant ‘this is final’.

You had no choice but to nod, “Ok, let’s save our asses.”

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Your first stop was a bar. It was one that had a familiar vibe to it for you. And the person you saw tending it brought more than just a familiar vibe, it brought feelings to you. She still looked the same, still with her long burgundy hair, electric blue eyes. It was like she had never changed.

Then you saw the name she had on her name tag; it was different.

There was barely anyone else in this bar. It was just you, Daisy, her, and about 2 other people who didn’t seem to care of the new company.

However, she then looked up, freezing just as you had when you saw her. The pair of you were frozen, just staring at each other.

“Y/N.” She spoke. Daisy felt the atmosphere shift from cosey and inviting, to cold and distant.

“’Madison’.” You greeted back, reading the name tag she wore.

She looked at it and chuckled, “Yeah, well, desperate times and all that. You know how Marcus is.”

You took a step towards her as she came around from behind the bar. The two of you inched closer and closer…Daisy watched on warily.

“I know he wants his money back.” You said, bluntly.

“Ah, I bet he does. After that stunt you pulled.” ‘Madison’ threw back at you.

“That was SHIELD –” You never got to finish your sentence, as ‘Madison’ had struck you on the face.

You retorted with your own. The two of you then found yourself with two arms holding each other as you both threw yourself into the bar, heads colliding with the pumps. You both groaned at your less than stellar plan.

“SHIELD picked me up! You don’t think I wanted to come back!” You yelled as she smashed a bottle on the table.

“Then why didn’t you?” She asked as she attacked you with the bottle. You jumped back, before slamming your head into hers.

“I was trying to –” She counted with a kick between your legs.

“I had to change my name because of that bastard! And you come back!” She exclaimed.

“Then why are you mad at me?!” You said, on your knees, holding between your legs.

“…Because you left, and I had no idea where you were. I thought you were dead.”  She admitted, voice going quieter.

Daisy then made herself known, putting her arm under your own and helping you up, “Why not help us? We could use an extra pair of hands?” She asked, despite her first impression of the woman.

She looked from you to Daisy and back again. She then turned to other two customers, “See those two?” Daisy nodded, still holding onto you, “They’re new. They don’t exactly know the tricks we do.” Daisy saw where this was going.

“We got it.” Daisy assured her, checking on you one more time as you had seemed to be more stable now.

“You do?” Madison seemed almost surprised.

“Trust me, I had to do my fair share of that to pay for shit.” With that, the pair of you went over to the two. You sat next to them.

It was like you’d never left; and it seemed Daisy did have a lot of experience of this. It was a simple gig really: sit next to them, pretended to be their friend, chat them up about whatever they wanted and pretended like you cared. If you couldn’t get close without them noticing, then you’d have to improvise…like Daisy was. Still, whatever worked and got you close, worked and got you close.

As you reached into the pocket and found what you were fishing for as your man had passed out, you saw Daisy deeply kissing her man as she seemed to be on autopilot with getting the card and some money out of the pocket.

She seemed to be a pro.

When the two stumbled out, the three counted up the earnings the two of you had gathered.

Was it much? No, but it was a start.

“I can take some things from here, if we can get that out of our way.” At ‘that’ Madison pointed to a camera that was watching you.

“I got that, you take what you can and then we’ll go.” Daisy said, going to probably loop the footage of you all sitting there just moments ago.

That left the two of you.

“So,” Madison started as she poured you a drink and put it on the table, “What brought you home?”

“Something happened at SHIELD. Daisy had to get away from it all. I went with.” You answered as you took a sip of your beer.

“Why?”

“I couldn’t just leave her alone. She’s looked after me all this time I’ve been there, figured I’d return the favour.”

Madison sighed, “You’re a good friend.”

“She’s an even better one.”

There was a drag in the conversation following that. The only sound being you drinking, and her checking pumps and cleaning tables.

“I’m sorry you had to change your name.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s his. Besides, always kind of hoped you’d come back.” She said, stopping what shew as doing and turning to you, a light now in her eyes.

“You did?”

She smiled, “Yeah.” You smiled too.

 Daisy had looped the footage, and the three of you drove to the French Quatre. It was still as lively as ever.

And that meant opportunity, that meant money. That meant making it.

It led you all to an ATM, with cards upon cards. It was close to midnight, and all you three were doing was trying the cards you had gotten. Putting in pins and taking out cash.

You ran out of yet another establishment, this time chased by guards. As you ran, you did see Daisy relax a little, seemed she had gotten something out of this too.

Your feet slammed against the pavement, but you still heard your chasers. Daisy quaked up to the roof, while you and Madison dove right into a dark alley way, just around a corner from where your foes were coming from.

You had lost them.          

Daisy came down to join you. And, for once, the three of you laughed. You checked that the coast was clear one more time, before making your way to the ATM.

You did it, you somehow had just about enough. Daisy gave you a pat on the shoulder, while Madison gave you a peck on the cheek. You missed Daisy’s smile slip just for a second before it was back.

You then got out your phone, dialling the number that had called you.

Marcus answered almost immediately, “What?”

“I got it.” You said, proud of your actions.

He barked out a laugh, “Aye, you did? Well fan-fucking-tastic. Only, you daft cunt, you made a ruck doing it! You got coppers and what not looking for you. Aye, and little ol’ Jenny somehow come back to life, aye? I guess then, if you’re so fucking good at your job, you’d pay off her’s too, eh? See you at 3.” With that, he hung up.

Your smile was gone, “What is it? What’s wrong?” Daisy asked, concern now in her gaze and tone.

“He knows you’re alive.” You said, looking to Madison, who paled, “And he wants your share of the load.” She gulped.

Fuck.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How much do you owe him?” Daisy asked as the three of you sat in Daisy’s van.

“Between us, or separate?” You asked, pointing between yourself and Madison.

“I guess separate.” Daisy answered.

You looked at Madison, the pair of your quickly doing some mental math in your head, “Well, we’ve gotten mine.” You reminded Daisy. She nodded at the answer.

“About 5 grand.” She then looked to Madison.

Finally, Madison answered, “About $36,200 between us.”

Daisy’s eyes widened, “What?!” She sounded like it should be a shriek but was a whisper instead.

“There was a deal. One we did before Y/N got picked up by your lot. Quite a big load of women coming in.” Madison looked to you.

You knew what she wanted; and so, you continued the tale, “We didn’t let it happen. Then SHIELD came and got me. And Madison here…well.” You knew what she did.

“What’d she does?” Daisy pushed.

“Went off grid. New name, same place. Safest place from a Whale is inside its own belly, after all.” Madison seemingly decided to give just enough information.

And it seemed to be enough for Daisy, “So, how long do we have?” She asked.

“With Marcus? He said a few hours –”

“That’s not long enough.” Daisy argued.

“It would’ve been longer if I wasn’t here.” Madison looked down a bit as she said that, like a wounded animal. You grabbed her hand, rubbing your thumb on her knuckles. She looked at you but couldn’t manage a smile.

“Ok. So, we can’t get out without being spotted, and we can’t get the money – well, that amount of money, without getting seen. So, what’s the plan guys?” As you said that, you all ducked down as you heard a cop car go past. Its sirens were blaring as it raced past, so you knew it wasn’t for you; still, couldn’t be too careful.

When it passed, you all slowly got back up, the lights from the street being your only source of light through Daisy’s curtained windows.

Ok, maybe you were starting to get an appreciation for the van life after all.

Still, you had to get the money. You had to have a clean slate. You had to get Madison out of this life.

You looked at Daisy, and she saw that you genuinely cared for Madison. And, despite her first thoughts on the girl, she had grown on her. She saw the light she brought to your eyes.

It was the same way Lincoln brought that same kind of light to her life.

She saw you look out the window, you had a face she had seen before; if this was any other time, she’d go along with whatever you were going to say.

Here, not so much.

“Y/N –” Her tone was tense, there was an edge to it. There was a warning.

“You two stay here and –”

“No!”

“Hell no!” the two women exclaimed in sync. Daisy the former and Madison the latter.

“Y/N, you can’t just –”

“Would you rather we all go out together and risk getting caught? Or splitting up? Look, Daisy, I’m sorry I dragged you into this, ok? Really, I am. But we don’t have a lot of time.” You said as you got a pistol out of your bag.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! The hell are you planning?” Daisy asked, grabbing the pistol and lowering it.

“Desperate time and measures.” You justified it as, putting the pistol in your back pocket, “Look, do you want to the bank, or am I taking it? There’s only three options we have here in the short space of time; and none of them good.”

You then looked to Madison, “I got the streets. Regular and all that.” You nodded, that left Daisy with another option.

She didn’t look pleased, “I’m doing the bank job,” She said, ripping the pistol from you and putting it in her back pocket instead, “You go to the bars we haven’t gotten before. But remember, low profile.” She warned, pointing a finger at both of you.

God, she seemed destined to always play big sister.

You gave her a mock salute, “You’re about to rob a bank, Daisy.”

“Yeah, but I have a name to go with that. If we get too much, we’ll use what we have left to help us against the Watchdogs.” Daisy said, getting out the back of the van before you could argue any further.

You and Madison looked at each other, a silent, “Be careful” being exchanged between you both. You shared one more kiss, before you went your separate ways.

 There was one more bar you hadn’t hit yet. It was a packed one, despite the time it was.

Still, you entered, looking for any sort of prey. Your eyes scanned the crowds, mainly large crowds in the area. Well, that could work in your advantage, but it could also be a hindrance.

Still, you went with “fuck it.” And walked further in, trying not to look like a desperate loser.

Your hand went into one pocket, and you got as far as the car, when a hand grabbed yours: a friend of his. He shook his head, and you put it back. He didn’t tell his friend, he only looked at you with bitter hatred.

That was enough of an arse kicking on its own.

So, no money, and arse kicking and a bar fight later and you were out. You made your way over to the van, seeing Daisy sat in the van, but laying low.

You opened the van back door, only to be punched in the face. Whoever had done that – not Daisy – had taken off running. As you readjusted yourself, your heartbeat rose.

They had the bag.

You got up, not caring about being careful anymore. Desperation ran through you.

You pulled the pistol, running after someone who would – whether they meant to or not – cause your death.

You pulled the trigger, and they went down. You ran, cars stopping and some screeching to a halt. You grabbed the bag the person had. You opened it –

And nothing was inside.

You then heard a van honk, and yours came careening around the corner. It stopped just next to you, “Get in!” Daisy called, with Madison pulling the side door open.

You were in, and you were gone the next moment.

 Either no one had called the cops on you, or they weren’t doing as good as you thought they were. You had gone back to Madison’s bar, and the three of you sat in it; you stared at what you had managed to garner as a three –

“$2,832. And it’s…” Daisy checked her phone, “2:51 am.” Her words came out slower, as she realised how fucked you guys were.

You stood up and started pacing, “I’m sorry, I should never have come back.”

Madison stood up, going to you and holding your hands in your own, “Hey, you know Marcus. Whatever you bring him, ain’t enough. He’d find a way to bleed you dry just like those cards, but he’d keep going,” She grabbed your shoulders, “Y/N, look at me,” You did so, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think…even if we got what he wanted, that it’d be enough. I mean, look at me; I had to change my name and what not. He just works people until they get shot, then calls it off.”

You looked at Madison, and you knew; you knew that she was right. You then looked to Daisy, “Put what we got in the van.”

She tilted her head in a questioning manner, “What you thinking?” She asked, as she pooled all the money with arm and watched it all fall into a bag.

For once, it was almost like old times, with that look on your face returning; and she supported it this time.

It was a face that told her you had a plan.

“We take that money, split it between us. He gets none of it.” You said, looking at your friends and seeing if they’d disagree. They shared a look and nodded in sync.

Ok then, here you went.

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Daisy had taken the van away a bit, hiding it in a different location that wouldn’t be as easily accessible.

You all waited as the time ticked down. If anything, it seemed to slow down.

Still, after what seemed like 2 hours – but what was really 3 minutes – it was time. The clock silent struck 3.

And, right on time, he entered the bar. He hadn’t really changed, it seemed. Still an old man with a moustache that was well kept but everything else on him – clothing, hair, jewellery – was not.

“So, I’m here. Where the fuck is my money, lass?” He asked.

“We don’t have it. And, even if we did, you wouldn’t get a cent.” You said, standing tall.

He whistled, “Aye? And where’d all this backbone come from then, eh? Because last time we called, you were willing to suck my fucking dick dry to make amends. Now, here you are, telling me I’m not allowed to have my own fucking money?” His temper was rising.

“You wouldn’t be happy with that though, would you?” Daisy asked from where she stood, to your right and leaning against one of the backrests.

Marcus finally looked at her. He looked at a TV that wasn’t on, then back down to her. From her to the tv, from the tv to her.

“You must be the one on the telly, Quake? Or whatever the fuck they call you now?”

Daisy just held his stare.

“This ain’t your fight, lass. Just between me and them two cunts and what they owe, me.” He said, looking at you and clenching his teeth together at the last part of the sentence.

“It is my fight, when it involves my friends.” She said firmly, moving away from the rest and to your side, fists clenched.

Marcus let out what seemed to be a scoff and a laugh all in one; and none having good connotations with them, “Loyal. I’ll give you that. Even if, in this case, not going to pay off the way you want.” He warned her.

The front door opened, with two of his goons coming in. Madison barely had time to turn before she was pinned against her bar.

“Hey –” Daisy said, going to step in, when Marcus waggled his finger.

“Told you.” He said, in a sing song kind of voice.

“Run.” Daisy advised, even pushing you in that direction.

You did, as fast as you could up the stairs to the toilets.

Marcus passed Daisy, “I so much as feel this building shake, and I will fucking kill you all, alright?” He threatened, before coming after you.

You found yourself in one of the cubicles, “You know, Y/N. I always wondered where you went. Then a man by the name of Phil Coulson comes knocking at my door, asking about an agent Y/N and Johnson. Course, I told them the truth…” As he spoked, you saw his feet stop by a cubicle and heard the door be booted open, “That I knew nothing of you. To be honest, thought you were dead. Would’ve been happy with that. Then you show up, and you left me no choice,” He kicked another open; you had nowhere to go, “But, maybe…maybe I can amend that now.” He booted in your door. And, despite your efforts and struggled, he slammed you into the sink. As you saw your own reflection, a cord went around your neck and he hoisted you up into the air before your feet touched the floor, but you were on tiptoes.

In his voice, there was no joy, “Don’t fight this, Y/N. Don’t fight it. This’ll fix everything.”

The door burst open, but he grabbed a pistol and fired at the entrance, “Take one more fucking step and I’ll blow their fucking –” He didn’t get to finish, as you hit him in the guy with your elbow. The cord went from your neck, and you hit him with your head and sent him back.

Madison was next, slamming him in the fist with her fist. As he spun around with the pistol, Daisy quaked it away, before quaking him into the wall. He slumped down.

The three of your shared a look.

Madison had a car – stolen of course – but a car and a home. The three of you carried Marcus’ body down the stairs and outside to the car. You slammed the boot lid closed as the three of you shared a look.

You looked to Madison, pulling her into a hug and putting your chin on her shoulder. You pulled away, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She said with a smile, but it was a sad one.

Daisy then hugged her next, “Thank you for your help.”

“Y/N is my…. friend, too. I’ll get Marcus here somewhere he belongs, then I’ll get a new ride. Heard there’s some good ones moving in.”

You pulled out a key in your back pocket, “Here,” You said, throwing it to Madison, “It’s yours.”

She looked from the key to you, “You serious?” She asked, excitement growing in her tone.

“Yeah. You’re my friend, might as well pay off the debt I can, huh?” She laughed, before hugging you again in thanks. She gave your cheek a kiss, before going to the car and driving off.

 You and Daisy saw the “Thank you for visiting New Orleans!” sign as you drove away. Your phone blinked with a text. Looking at it, you saw it to be Madison: “He’s with the NOPD now :D” The text read.

You looked to Daisy, showing it to her.

She smiled, before moving her hand over to yours and squeezing it and then going back to the wheel.

You were leaving your home, now in your new one for the time being.

But one thing you knew for sure; you had a clean slate. Just not in the way you would’ve expected.

[randomoranges]

rock band au part 37

--

 For as much as Edward enjoyed being a homebody and liked his privacy, he still did enjoy going out with his friends and having fun. Normally, at least once a month, he and his friends would go out, sometimes just to a restaurant, other times to a club or a bar, and on such occasions, Edward was known to pick up the cutest guy there and bring him home for the night.

 Despite currently having a cute guy living with him at the moment and even though he and said cute guy had already gone to bed together, Étienne had made absolutely no move or given no hint that he would like to do that again and so Edward kept his hands to himself, not wanting to be rude. Plus, it was totally fine if Étienne didn’t want to be intimate with him again. He respected that and their friendship. The issue was that with the current lockdown, Edward could not simply go out and pick up the cutest guy he could find and chatting through dating apps only went so far.

 His sister thought he was being completely obtuse, considering, once more, the fact that his celebrity crush, which he had already slept with, was living under his roof, and he hadn’t even had the decency to ask if Étienne was interesting, but Edward preferred to keep it that way. It was enough that he got to see Étienne parade in his place half naked every so often when he would forget his clothes or towel in a different room. It was enough fuel for his fantasies and solo play.

 But, still.

 It was Friday night, he was mildly bored, and it would have been the perfect evening to go out and have fun. Instead, he was sitting in his living room, trying to read a book he had made no progress on and by the looks of it, Étienne was also getting nowhere with his music.

 “This is stupid,” Étienne said as he yanked his headphones off and shut the keyboard, “You know what would be great right about now?” He asked, looking his way and Edward did his best to ignore the way Étienne’s hair had grown out a bit and how he looked particularly handsome at the moment.

 “Pray do tell.”

 “Going out. Literally, anywhere, and dancing. Good music, good vibes, good booze, and lovely people.”

 Edward blinked and then laughed. Étienne gave him a funny look, “What’s so funny, Murphy?”

 “I was literally thinking the same thing. Isn’t it funny how now that I’m stuck inside I suddenly really want to go outside?”

 They shared a laugh over that, before Étienne responded, “It makes sense. You know what we should do? Let’s have our own party – right here in your living room!” He got up from his seat and started putting his things away.

 “Has cabin fever finally gotten to you?” Edward asked, but somehow, Étienne’s sudden boost of energy was contagious.

 “Maybe – but this could be really cool! I have playlists we can listen to and we can even dress up – like if we were really going out and we’ll turn off the lights and only keep the fairy lights on. We can even have drinks!” Étienne sounded really convincing with his plan and Edward must have been really desperate for a change of pace – a break, anything, that he agreed.

 “I guess I’ll go change then.”

 Étienne let him go and took charge of clearing off some space for the impromptu dance floor.

 By the time Edward returned to the living room, decked out in his usual club attire, he hardly recognised the space. The coffee table and couch had been pushed off to the side, the other odds and ends that usually took up space were equally put aside and with the lights turned off, the fairy lights gave the living room a very different vibe. Étienne had hooked up his laptop to Edward’s sound system and the music coming out was nice – exactly the type he would hear at a club and if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine being anywhere else.

 “I took the liberty of mixing us some drinks – I guessed on what you’d like, but I can make something else.” Étienne handed him a glass and Edward was amazed at how much he’d gotten done in so little time, even managing to change himself. The tight jeans he was wearing did wonders for his legs and the improvised crop top reminded him of skin he hadn’t touched in ages.

 “Thanks,” He took a pull of the drink and even if it wasn’t his favourite – a little too much on the fruity side – it went down smoothly with a nice kick at the end.

 “So, how about we get this party started – wanna dance?” Étienne grinned at him and it was all Edward needed to laugh, nod, and follow Étienne to the middle of the improvised dance floor and do just that.

 Despite the fact that it was just the two of them in his living room, Étienne was good at making him forget. He’d pull him in close for one song, then challenge him to a dance off the next and soon, Edward found himself laughing as his friend poured him another drink.

 It felt, for the briefest of moments, as though the weight of the pandemic had been shoved in the back of the closet with next season’s clothes and it was nice to forget about it for a bit. It helped, also, that Étienne was absolutely lovely and as the music kept playing, going from one song to the next, he found himself putting his guard down and stepping closer and closer into Étienne’s space, until he had his arms around Étienne’s neck and Étienne’s own arms were around his waist.

 Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the cozy atmosphere of the living room, or his crush for Étienne – or maybe even all of the above, but Edward leaned in close, until their chests were pressed together and gave Étienne a flirtatious grin when he looked at him, surprised by this sudden closeness between them. It could have been the overall pandemic, but Edward was suddenly tired of edging along the lines, playing it safe with Étienne. He figured he could use the excuse of playing up the role of the club to its max, but he was tired of waiting and – wanted to take a chance. Anything. Try. It also helped that Étienne looked extremely attractive and that he knew exactly what it was like to be with him.

 “You know,” He started above the volume of the music, “I normally go after the cutest guy at the club – but, it’s safe to say that even if we were at a club together, you’d still be the one I’d go after, so what d’you say, Maisonneuve, ready for some real fun?” He asked, leaning in close to say in his ear.

 Étienne laughed, amused and surprised by Edward’s boldness, “Well, since you’re asking so nicely, who am I to say no?” He tilted his head down and finally, after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, pressed his lips to Edward’s.

 Edward grinned, triumphant and kissed him back, long and deep, and suddenly, the living room was no longer the place he wanted to be in anymore, “What d’you say we dump this joint and head out?” He asked against Étienne’s lips he already wanted to be kissing again.

 “My place or yours?”

 Edward laughed, sharing a smile with Étienne, and then guided him to his bedroom.

--

PREVIOUS: XXXVI

CURRENT: XXXVII

NEXT: XXXVIII

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Damn, Kohga has clearly been fucked by A LOT of men (like damn, his ass doesn't even need prep) And Sooga is clearly possessive AS FUCK. Consider: Kohga tying down/ordering Sooga to sit still while Kohga jacks it/fingers himself, while telling Sooga FILTHY stories of his past dalliances until Sooga can't handle it anymore.

Ooooh this is a GOOD idea. Sooga maybe bottom, but he's a possessive bottom, and we STAN that energy. 

Kohga was horny as SHIT. Nothing new in that sentence, but what was different was the fact that it was caused by Sooga's possessiveness. It started off innocently enough; Kohga wanting to spank his big, juicy ass. Simple enough. Then he got into it. Hard, fierce spanking across his ass. And what caused it? That classic territorial nature of all blade masters. Kohga so much as MENTIONED bringing one in, and he just slapped his ass six ways from sunday. Hell, he needed to sit on a pillow for a few days after that. He even recalled how Sooga apologized for that, but Kohga would have none of it. Sooga was an ANIMAL. He just had to take the beast out of the cage.

"But how…."

He asked himself, rolling over to his stomach. He sent Sooga out on some scavenger hunt (he did this whenever he needed Sooga out of the base for a while), and was left to his own devices. He needed time to think about just how he was gonna get a rise out of Sooga. Poking the beast, so to speak. He couldn’t bring another guy in to watch, they'd start beating the shit out of each other (though them fighting was ALWAYS hot). Sooga wouldn’t even let them be near their DOOR when they did it. It was ridiculous. Other guy's Kohga fucked was not this complicated. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. He nearly bolted out of bed, completely astounded by his own brilliance.

"Kohga! You're not only a hunk, you're a GENIUS!"

Kohga knew just what to do.

---------------------

"Master Kohga, I have returned."

Kohga nearly bounced in place upon hearing his voice. He was SO ready for his pretty boy to come home. He opened his door, nearly yanking Sooga inside his room, and pulling him into a hug. Sooga sputtered in surprise, before chuckling and returning the affection.

"I was not expecting such a warm welcome for my arrival."

"Well, shame on you! Been waiting for you to come back! You like that mushy couple bullshit, so you'll love this!"

He looked up at Sooga, who cocked his head to the side.

"I do. But you don't."

"One, shut up. Two, I love YOU. So! We're gonna do something...interesting."

He pulled up a chair for Sooga (aka the good chair he got from Kingy), while he sat on his bed. Sooga was clearly not understanding what was happening, but he was going along with it, especially given Kohga’s excitement. He had drinks, snacks (mainly slices of nut cake and fruit), and even candles. It was sweet, honestly. Kohga patted his hand, clearly excited.

"So, Traysi recommends this for couples who are VERY serious about each other."

"The woman who runs the rumor mill? Should we be following-"

Kohga flicked his mask, huffing.

"We do not disrespect Traysi here. And yes, we're doing this. So you're ready?"

"If you are, absolutely."

"Good, you're going to go first. Now, tell me about EVERYONE you've been with before."

Sooga seemed confused by this. But, it was not only a command from Kohga, but Kohga actually and honestly trying to bond with him. Who could say no to that? Sooga thought about it for a moment.

"Let's see...when I was five, I married my neighbor's daughter. We had a mud cake and everything."

He chuckled. It wasn’t at all a serious answer, but it was just. So odd, recalling his past relationships, especially since they seemed so redundant now. He rubbed his chin a bit.

"Then there was Nabooru. I dated her when I was about fourteen. Lovely girl."

Kohga cocked his head to the side.

"You ACTUALLY dated girls?"

"In my teen years. When I was seventeen we broke up, started to date a stable boy. Shad. He was...a bit of a bookworm. I really liked him."

"What happened to you guys?"

Sooga hesitated, opening his mouth then closing it again.

"Father didn't....what I mean to say is...uhm, If I may skip, Master Kohga."

Oof, rough territory. Kohga waved his hand, letting him know to press on. Sooga shook the thought out of his head, happy to no longer be thinking about it.

"Then there were the occasional hookups. Nothing serious, a few men to share a bed with for the night. Chudly, Benja, and Vilia. Then it was you."

Kohga blinked. Wow. Could buy a piece of bread with that body count.

"That's...it? Only FIVE people? And one was a WOMAN? That’s ALL the people you’ve been with?!”

“Yes. Though, I wouldn’t fully include the first one, in all honesty.”

Sooga rubbed the back of his neck shyly, clearly a bit embarrassed from how little that seemed to be. Kohga just couldn’t fathom that. Five people, in his entire life. Sooga was a young stud, he could get plenty of his ass, just on his walk home. Kohga couldn’t fathom that. Sooga seemed to shrink a bit under his clearly bewildered look.

“Is that...too few?”

Kohga realized he was making Sooga feel self conscious. He was aiming for jealousy, not this. He raised his hands up a bit, shaking his head.

“No! No, any number is fine, even none. I’m just saying, I expected a LOT more. I mean, LOOK at you!”

Sooga chuckled, blushing like crazy underneath his mask like the cute guy he was. 

“Well, thank you, Master Kohga. But no, I have not been with anyone else. Just those, and I haven’t missed one. You know, I can actually see the merit in this piece of advice. It feels good, getting that off my chest. Is it your turn?”

Kohga almost wanted to cuddle his big, dumb face. Thankfully, he was too horny to bail on his plans. Kohga nodded.

“It is, actually. BUT. I have one order to give you, got it?”

“I...suppose.”

“You have to stay put in that chair. No matter what. Understand?”

Sooga looked confused, but he nodded.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. But, an order is an order. I will stay seated.”

“Good. Good.”

Kohga grabbed his box of fun stuff, placing it right next to him, then laid on his back. He hoisted one leg over the other, arms behind his head.

“Okay, get comfy. Now, the first guy I dated was when I was...seventeen or so? I wanted to date earlier, but dad said to wait. Anyway, he was a merchant that’d come by every once and while. He was SUPER cute, and honestly? Not too bad of a kisser. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only guy he was seeing, but...well, I couldn’t complain, he was super cute. Nice hair. Always dated guys with nice hair.”

Kohga remembered those early years. Back when he didn’t know shit. Back when kissing was new and exciting to him. Sooga looked confused.

“I thought you said no one but you and your father saw your face.”

“Oh no, I NEVER took this off. A wise man caught nude will cover his face, not his privates.”

That made Sooga chuckle.

“A rather clever, yet lewd saying. Please, do continue.”

“Gladly.”

Kohga twiddled with his fingers as he recalled. Is he supposed to go in order? Or just whatever crossed his mind? He thought about it, before he thought about it.

“Oooh, then there was another one of my boyfriends. He was going through like, this weird hair phase? His hair was red, he had it up, and he was just. Big. Big, buff, and honestly he was just. Stupid. Let me tell you, I could grab onto his arm, and he could lift me up with absolutely no issues. We didn’t last long though, he thought he was hot shit. He GENUINELY said ‘babe, you’re pretty, but I’m prettier’. Can you imagine that? Ugh. Dude fucked good though, he REALLY did. He’d get all hot and sweaty after his work outs, and then. Well, dude fucked good. Real good.”

Kohga stripped himself free of his pants, and held his finger up when Sooga clearly wanted to ask questions. He stripped himself free, before getting comfy again, just stroking at his thighs.

“I remember once, when he got back from his trip across seas, he ended up fucking me right in the bar. We got just, so drunk, and he couldn’t keep himself off of me. He railed me in front of all his men, the barkeep, and pretty much who seemed to be paying attention. I was a young thing back then, a thick dick was all it took. I remember, I tried to give him his beer after he came in me, and I just, dumped it all over his chest by accident. He was a good sport about it, all I had to do was clean him up. Only, I didn’t have a rag, so...I had to improvise. Licked that dude like a lollipop.”

Sooga not so gracefully, grabbed a bottle of his favorite oil, and used it to rub along his thighs, just for a bit of a show, before sticking two fingers into his ass. Been a while since he touched himself like this, much less in front of someone else, and it felt GOOD, watching his greedy eyes upon him.

“It wasn’t a long relationship, but it was a fun one. Let's see, who else was there...ooh, there was that one guy. Dad HATED him, and I think there was a huge appeal in that. He was in charge of fixing trains and stuff. Big, muscle guy. Cute scar, tattoos, big hands. He wasn’t as rebellious as the other guy. We lasted a bit longer, but not by much. Super sweet. I remember he'd pick me out of nowhere, just because he could. That dude was the sorta romance then in your pants dance type. But he was KINKY. Dude really liked holding me down and giving it to me. I remember, we got REAL rough with it one time, he tied my hands up, tied me up in his workshop, and just railed my ass. Swore we almost got caught by a client once!"

Kohga laughed, really digging and stretching his ass.

"He taught me how to do this. Taught me how to get my nice, oily fingers inside of me. Taught me how to get nice and ready for the cocks he knew I wanted. In a way...he was my first.”

He snuck a glance at Sooga’s eyes, and he saw it. The little sparkles of jealousy. He knew he wasn’t his first, but knowing the details really got under his skin. Kohga introduced three fingers now, really arching his back as he felt himself be a little bit stretched. Sooga wasn’t goosey loosey down there, but he could take three fingers, knuckle deep, before he felt that familiar longing inside of him.

“Then...Then there was this other guy. Up until I started the clan, he was my partner in crime. Long hair, always kept in a ponytail. Nice, strong hands, and his eyes were something else. They were so...intense. Should’ve seen me the first time I caught those eyes, I was on him like a stack of bananas. He was the more...aloof than most of the guys I dated. He’d pop in and out, constantly looking for ways to get stronger. Never really got that guy. We would just..somehow end up in bed together. Sometimes it would be in a bed over some stable, sometimes it’d be some random, abandoned spot in the mountains. Either way, he’d fuck me, and be gone by morning. Hell, I don’t even think I caught his name. I just remembered we REALLY, REALLY liked each other.”

Kohga had to admit, recalling all of his past lovers was very, very fun. Recalling how many big, strong men wanted him, how each one fucked him differently, it was thrilling. He pulled his fingers out of himself, letting Sooga take a gander at his oiled, willing ass. The same ass that knew many, many men, and started to pump his cock. He would go on with his other boyfriends, but he didn’t want to wait longer. He wanted to hit Sooga right in that weak spot.

“Then the clan started. Those other blade masters...well. Let’s just say there’s a reason they’re so high in the ranks.”

He saw Sooga’s fingers grip onto the seats. He was already fuming from his past lovers, but his own peers? Oh, that was a way to get under a blade master’s hide. He was getting ANGRY. Not at Kohga of course, just the motion that ANYONE touched his precious Kohga.

“I remember once, a couple of them snuck into my room. They thought I was dead asleep, but I was very much awake. I felt them grope me, felt them pull at my clothes till it came off. Next thing I knew I had two in my ass, and two in my hands. Course I had that one guy in my mouth two, and the other three watching...oh who really knows? Once one was done, another guy took over. They pumped me full of cum, sucked and toyed with my cock. And I remembered I’d bark at them not to cum until I did, so they fucked me HARDER. Let me tell you, I have NEVER been that full of cum. Was practically swimming in it, and that was just how I liked it. I remembered them all tuckered out, asking if they pleased me.”

Kohga lifted his head up to look at his eyes. So angry, so jealous and furious, as if he was going to kill them for an absolute injustice.

“This...was the only case of them, yes?”

“Ooooh no. No. Not at all. Until you fell into the mix, I’d have a select few fuck me a few times a week. I still remember my favorite one. Big, strong guy. He’d tie my hands up in rope, nice and tight, and he’d just hold me down when he fucked me. He’d lean into my ear and whispered words dirty enough to make me shake. He was my favor-”

That was enough. Suddenly Sooga was on top of him, slamming his palm over Kohga’s mouth. Kohga was expecting something angry, something a bit kinky. But no. Sooga was FURIOUS. There was no stammering, no sweet talking, not even him asking as sweetly as he usually would. He just stuffed his cock in his eager, oiled ass, and fucked him. Fucked him with enough force that the head board kept knocking against the wall, that his hips ached from such a big, heavy body putting so much force into him.

"Stop it. Stop it. You're doing this to get a rise out of me. You want me to fuck you so badly, Master Kohga? I'll do that. I'll fuck you. I'LL be your favorite. No one else. Just me. Look at me."

And Kohga was LOOKING. Sooga had his legs wrapped around his own, keeping him in place so he had no choice but to take that nice, hard cock, right against that good fucking spot. Kohga tugged and clawed at his hand, as if he was trying to get Sooga off. Thank god Sooga knew better. Kohga just liked to thrash a bit, really MAKE his partner fuck his shit up. And Sooga was LOVING it. Kohga managed to move his mouth away a bit, trying not to grin too wildly.

"That's it, FUCK ME Sooga! Fuck my oiled ass, make me think of only YOUR cock!"

Kohga reached up to grab fistfulls of his uniform, yanking him to his face. Fuck that beautiful, panting face.

"Fuck me nice and proper, Sooga. Make me cum. Be my favorite boy, make my exes look like fucking LOSERS!"

Sooga may be pounding his ass like dough, but Kohga’s demands were still Kohga's. Sooga obeyed, shoving his fingers into Kohga’s pretty mouth, nearly making him gag as he continued to pound into him. Kohga knew he did that because he liked his dirty talk. Knew that he would cum if he listened to his pleading Master anymore, and he really, really wanted to be a good boy. Unfortunately, Sooga was so weak for his master. His fingers peeled out of his mouth, Sooga quickly becoming un done by not only his words, but his nice, tight body. Not that Kohga minded a small break from the rather large fingers. He was happy to sit there, moaning and grumbling, just absolutely so close to that edge.

“You LIKE fucking your Master Kohga, don’t you big guy?”

For a moment, they looked each other in the face, and Kohga only saw lust and competition. Exactly what he deserved to see in those big, pretty eyes of his. Sooga seemed to feel the exact same, as he leaned down, and pressed his forehead against his. For a moment, he was calm, still.

“I love you. More than anything. As such...I refuse to let your heart, or your loins, long for another.”

Translation? ‘Your ass is fucking mine’. This was right before Sooga put one hand on his chest, and the other on the headboard, continuing to slam his hips against Kohga. He couldn’t stop him (well he was strong enough to, but who the fuck would stop a BEAST like this?), and that’s how he liked it. He liked the force of his thrusts, liked the way the bed seemed to complain from the force, and loved, absolutely loved the feeling as hot seed was pumped into his insides. Kohga greedily raked his fingers down his back, finding himself cumming almost completely on time with Sooga. It had been SO long since that had happened, and it made poor Kohga’s body tremble. He sat there for a moment, letting Sooga finish emptying his balls right into him. It took a lot out of poor Sooga, given his panting, but his hips didn’t completely stop, instead settling for a nice, slow roll into Kohga.

“M...master Kohga? I’m...sorry.”

“Fucking hell Sooga, don’t you DARE apologize here, you ANIMAL.”

Kohga chuckled, wiping his face underneath his mask, finding himself drenched in sweat. Sooga shook his head.

“You don’t understand. I uh, do believe I broke the bed frame.”

Kohga was a bit too buzzed to fully understand, before it clicked. He leaned over a bit, and sure enough, Sooga broke three out of the four legs underneath his bed. What a feat. Kohga tossed his head back as he laughed, pushing into his shoulder.

“Oh, you were NOT kidding! Damn Sooga, look at you! Though you’re a big boy, shoot for all four next time.”

Sooga lightly shook his head, sighing. He could tell he was amused in his exhaustion.

“You’re relentless, Master Kohga, truly.”

Sooga’s finger danced up his chest, before he flicked his chin.

“The other Blade Master could do it.”

Sooga’s firm hand pushed onto his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of Kohga.

“You enjoy me putting me through trials, Master Kohga. You really, really do.”

“Oh, bite me, big boy.”

Sooga’s voice got nice and low, making Kohga nearly swoon underneath him.

“Is that a challenge?”

Something told Kohga, that Sooga was ready to prove himself as the best of the best.

Even if it took many, many more attempts.

[son-of-alderaan]

J.J. Abrams is racing.

The director has been tasked with bringing four decades of the most popular and longest-running sci-fi franchise of all time to an epic conclusion. And nowadays he’s feeling a bit like Luke Skywalker flying his X-wing down the Death Star trench in A New Hope as TIE fighters closed in — under a bit of pressure, in other words, with the fate of the entire Star Wars universe depending on him.

“We always knew we were going to have three fewer months to postproduction this film,” says Abrams, who took over co-writing and directing duties on the movie two years ago after successfully rebooting the franchise with 2015’s blockbuster The Force Awakens. “So much is still being worked on. It’s literally a practical race to get it finished.”

If that admission sounds worrisome, hold your fire on those tweets.

Despite a deadline crunch to make the film’s Dec. 20 worldwide launch (EW’s interview was conducted in late October), Abrams says he’s feeling “infinitely better” at this very late stage about The Rise of Skywalker than he was about The Force Awakens.

“We had more reshoots on Episode VII than this one,” Abrams says. “We had more story adjustments on VII than this one. We didn’t know if these characters would work, if the actors would be able to carry a Star Wars movie. There were a lot of things we didn’t know. On this, we knew who and what worked, and everyone is doing the best work I’ve ever seen anyone do. But the ambition of this movie is far greater than Force Awakens. What we set out to do was far more challenging. Everything is exponentially larger on this.” 

For example: Disney has released three trailers for The Rise of Skywalker. Some of the shots are stunning and seemingly revealing: desert scavenger–turned–Jedi apprentice Rey (Daisy Ridley) and First Order leader Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) clashing with lightsabers on the half-submerged wreckage of the second Death Star, which was blown up in Return of the Jedi; Rey facing off against a somehow resurrected Emperor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid); the Millennium Falcon flying into a massive armada of Star Destroyers. Plus, those bewildering teases of Rey turning to the Dark Side and teaming up with Kylo.

Yet Abrams says fans still don’t really know anything. “The [trailers] that have come out are scratching the surface of what the movie is,” the famously spoiler-averse director says.

Asked if there are major action sequences we’ve yet to see any footage from, Abrams replies with a firm “Yes” and then, naturally, goes silent.

John Boyega, who plays stormtrooper–turned–Resistance fighter Finn, says his first reaction to the script penned by Abrams and Chris Terrio was he had to “read the script six more times because there was so much information in there.”

Here’s what we know about how Episode IX begins: It’s been more than a year since the events of 2017’s The Last Jedi. The First Order has decimated the Resistance. Rey has been training to use the Force. Finn and hotshot pilot Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) have been sent by General Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher) to find allies throughout the galaxy, but so far haven’t had any luck. “They’re trying to put bandaids on this leaking ship of the Resistance,” Isaac says.

Their mission leads Finn, Poe, and Rey to work together, which has, oddly, never happened before in the trilogy. And since there’s a time jump, the characters have all grown and changed since we last saw them. “We’re not just a ragtag group of people who have been thrown together,” Isaac says. “We’ve actually had time to train. There are some really great sequences with the three of us in infiltrating spaces.”

Both Isaac and Boyega say they had their character wishes granted for the final film. Isaac wanted Poe to get “out the cockpit and into the group,” while Boyega wanted Finn to become a more capable solider (and not, as the actor candidly puts it, just a “comedic goofy dude who never gets stuff done”).

“I definitely wanted more after Episode VIII,” Boyega says. “[Rise of Skywalker] makes Finn’s Episode VIII arc make more sense. We got to bring out a side of Finn we haven’t seen.”

To help spark the trio’s on-screen chemistry, Abrams told his cast to feel free to improvise dialogue, and many scenes were shot using long, continuous takes to keep their flow going. “J.J. came back with a new energy and new vibe,” Boegya says. “He wanted dialogue to be messy and natural, and that got all of us really excited.”

“I think it really captures the spirit of the original trilogy,” Isaac adds. “On top of that there’s fact that Rey has…“

The actor stops, catching himself before revealing too much.

Rey has… what?

“Rey is driving her own thing,” Ridley says. “She’s not doing what other people are telling her to do.”

We last saw Rey mourning the death of her mentor Luke Skywalker (who returns in the film, presumably in Force ghost form, played once again by Mark Hamill) and shutting the door to Kylo’s power-mad seduction attempt. The heroine has since made progress in her Jedi training. “I have skills that have developed, but ‘confident’ isn’t a word I’d use to describe it,” Ridley says. “She’s definitely more in control of everything and can do new fun stuff, but she’s vulnerable and a little insecure about at all.”

Yet Rey will use more than her Force powers in the new film. As Abrams hints: “The scavenger who is desperate and haggling for portions and trying to survive [in Force Awakens] — those special skills and that special experience ends up being something that is essential to saving the galaxy.”

Ridley trained in kickboxing for the final chapter as well, but says the emotional toll of Rey’s journey was more difficult than any combat scenes. “It’s a heavy story for Rey,” Ridley says. “There were days where I was literally like, ‘I can’t do this, I’m so tired, I don’t know if I can like reach that emotion again.’”

Part of Rey’s journey involves solving the mystery of her identity. Well, again. Kylo revealed in The Last Jedi that Rey’s parents are deceased nobodies, “filthy junk traders [who] sold you off for drinking money.” The line embraced the idea that a hero doesn’t need to come from somebody special in order to be somebody special. Yet many fans called foul as the trilogy has teased Rey’s identity as being crucial information from the start (“Classified?” Rey echoed back to BB-8 during her debut sequence. “Me too. Big secret”).

“The parents thing is not satisfied — for her and for the audience,” Ridley says. “That’s something she’s still trying to figure out — where does she come from?”

It’s unclear if Abrams has made a course correction to Last Jedi writer-director Rian Johnson’s plan or there was always more to say about Rey’s parentage. Either way, wasn’t the Episode VIII scene supposed to be sincere?

“It’s not that she doesn’t believe it,” Ridley says carefully, “but she feels there’s more to the story. And she needs to figure out what’s come before so she can figure out what to do next…”

An even bigger cliffhanger is the resolution of Rey’s complex relationship with the First Order’s ruthless leader, who, okay, sure, also looks hot shirtless in high-waisted pants (but what if he didn’t?). Kylo has grown beyond being a “petulant teenager,” and Driver says Kylo’s killing of Supreme Leader Snoke was “kind of a birth moment for him.”

“He had all of these pseudo father figures that he had to either live up to or literally kill to become his own person for the first time,” the actor says.

Naturally, Kylo’s destiny will lead to at least one lightsaber clash with Rey. Abrams sees the duo as “two sides of the same coin,” noting, “even when they’re not together they still haunt each other in a way — they know they are each other’s unresolved business.”

For his part, Driver rejects any labels for the Rey-Kylo relationship. “I don’t think it’s all one thing,” he says. “Part of the fun of playing it is the boundaries of it keep changing. At times it’s more intimate, sometimes less intimate. Sometimes it’s codependent. And then it’s, obviously, adversarial.”

That Rey and Kylo end up battling on the wreckage of the second Death Star continues Abrams’ penchant for showcasing ruined relics of the original trilogy — like Rey spelunking in a wrecked Star Destroyer and living in an AT-AT walker on Jakku in Force Awakens. “It felt like going into the haunted house, the place that you have to go to,” Abrams says of bringing back the iconic space station. “This is a story of people having to grapple with the burden the prior generation dumps on those that follow. So literally returning to this wreck of the past and having to fight it out felt like an obvious metaphor, but also felt incredibly cinematic.”

Of course, there’s another original trilogy fallen icon in the film too. Fisher died after filming The Last Jedi. Figuring out how to utilize Fisher’s previously deleted scenes in the new movie was one of Abrams’ biggest challenges. “Saying Leia had passed away, or that she was off somewhere else, felt like a cheat,” Abrams says. “Then I remembered we had these scenes that we hadn’t used from Episode VII. It was like finding this impossible answer to this impossible question. Suddenly we had classic Carrie in these amazing moments. So when you see in the movie, it’s her, she’s there. It’s not like there’s some crazy digital trickery. She’s just in the movie.”

A couple of other original trilogy characters are likewise integral. Billy Dee Williams is back as that ol’ pirate Lando Calrissian for the first time in live action since Return of the Jedi. Williams says he’s excited to return to the character despite enduring fans coming up to him for decades accusing him of betraying Han Solo. “The whole Star Wars experience feels like it never goes away; It’s always there,” Williams says. “There are all of these things that have happened in Lando’s life that he’s got to resolve.”

There’s also paranoid android C-3PO, who in the latest Skywalker trailer ominously says he’s taking a “last look” at his friends. Threepio is essential to a movie’s plot for the first time since A New Hope (Ridley points out Rey might spend more time with Threepio than any character in the film).

“In previous recent movies Threepio has just been kind of window dressing, something on the mantlepiece, you polish it and dust it o when guests are coming,” says Anthony Daniels, who has played the golden droid’s body and voice in every Skywalker Saga movie. “J.J. and Chris came up with this aspect of Threepio we had not seen before that’s remarkably clever. They go down deep into ancient Star Wars and came up with something refreshingly new.”

Joining Threepio in the metal headgear club is newcomer to the saga Keri Russell. Despite having worked with Abrams for years on Felicity, the actress found herself escorted to a small room where she could only read the Skywalker script under watchful guard. Her character is Zorii Bliss, who’s “involved in some intimate, sketchy stuff” and wears a large brass-and-crimson Daft Punk-like helmet.

“For a shy person this is my ultimate dream job — I get to be in Star Wars and my face is covered,” Russell marvels. “I can see everyone and no one can see me. Though I now have giant throbbing neck muscles like Mr. T.”

There’s also newcomer Naomi Ackie portraying Jannah, a bow-and-arrow-wielding warrior who rides a horse-like creature called an Orbak. Real animals were used on set, and until you’ve ridden a horse dressed up like exotic alien across the surface of the Death Star you haven’t really lived. “I was just gobsmacked,” Ackie says of the experience. “Every day you’re grappling with the fact that every choice you make in a small moment is going to be broadcast to the entire world.”

While the film is introducing new characters, Abrams insists Rise of Skywalker won’t set up a future story. He’s not leaving loose threads for Disney to hang another trilogy directly onto the back of this one. Lucas’ original dream of an intergalactic tale about a farm boy from Tatooine is at last about to set — just like those dreamy twin suns collapsing into the desert. “It’s a very good ending, and a good ending feels right,” Daniels says simply.

And yet, in another way, the final Skywalker Saga film is very much about the future of the franchise. Star Wars will continue to exist in an omniscient Force-like fashion, in everything from toys to TV shows to videogames to theme parks, but new movies have always been the brand’s creative core. Since buying Lucasfilm in 2012, Disney’s movies in a galaxy far, far away peaked early at the box office with Force Awakens and sunk to their lowest level with the most recent entry, 2018’s Solo: A Star Wars Story.

At one point during our interview, Abrams declares, “the stakes are all or nothing with this film.” He was referring to its high-stakes story line, but the same could also be said about the franchise. Even if we never see Rey, Finn and Poe on screen again, Rise of Skywalker’s popularity will likely make an impact on Disney’s next studio moves — guiding like a fallen Jedi or Sith’s unseen hand.

Speaking of: There’s at least one key player we haven’t discussed. Palpatine’s return may be the most closely guarded story line in the film. How is the Emperor, who Vader tossed into the Death Star’s reactor core, back in a seemingly corporeal form?

“This has been a very long chess match that’s been played between the Jedi and the Sith — all the way back to the very beginning,” Issac teases. “It’s an amazing thing to see that really come to the forefront.”

The Rise of Skywalker might very well turn out to be a full-fledged reunion special of Force ghosts. And what are the rules that govern the Jedi and Sith spirit realm anyway? Obi-Wan Kenobi said in Empire Strikes Back that he “cannot interfere” with Luke’s fight with Vader. But in The Last Jedi, Yoda suddenly called down a lightning strike. What can Force ghosts do — and not do — in our world?

Abrams’ reply to that key question is pretty much what you’d expect.

“That’s probably best answered,” the director says, “by not answering it.”

[praphit]

Batman, Cults, and me in Red Latex

Getting back to my roots of writing here! No movie to speak of; just pure rambling!

I started writing way back in the MySpace days. I'd get insomnia, and so stay up and ramble about stuff while drinking rum - which in retrospect is prob a lil reckless:) I found that was the way to go for me - maybe that could be the way for some  of you as well, if you ever struggle with such a thing. 

Writing and rum, baby! 

And if you're under the legal drinking age, just tell your parents that the praphit says it's ok. 

And if the police somehow get involved, tell them... 

Nah, wait, don't mention me... say some random, rambling, black dude said it was ok. And if they ask "Was this "random black dude" the rambling praphit on Tumblr, tell them "Noooooo, he actaully said to... NEVER DRINK... EVER. And that you officers are doing an ok job out there."

Writing and rum!

It works!

Like I said, I don't have a movie this time around; I'm not even sure how I started writing about movies.

I guess I could have gone with "The Lion King"

Which btw can we talk about this scam Disney is running? - telling the same story in a live-action package. And with this one it's still animated; it's not like it's done like one of those "Planet Earth" type shows - THAT would be interesting. I remember watching a clip of a lion eating a zebra, while the zebra was STILL ALIVE! The zebra wasn't even fighting back or crying out anymore... it had totally given up, as if the lion was devouring the zebra's soul and will to live with each juicy, bloody bite. Hey, Elton John, sing a song to that. #circleoflife

What if they followed real wild animals around in Africa, and watched the true circle of life. You could have the actors/team improvise the script depending on what's happening, and due voice-over. I feel like with real animals,  the "Hakuna Matata" scene might go differently.

I'm not shaming anyone for going and enjoying these movies. I had a plan to see "Aladdin", but somehow ended up seeing "Child's Play" instead 

(funniest movie I've seen all year btw). 

I might still go see Aladdin. BUT, it's still a scam. Toss in a lil controversy every now and then with the casting to inflate numbers... that mouse knows what he's doing. It's a good scam! What's next? - telling the same stories, but using puppets... sock puppets; that would be a new low.

But, somehow I feel like we'd still flock to the theatres. We love that Mouse!

I don't blame him. Kinda makes me want to run some type of scam within in music (my industry). What would be the music equivalent of what Disney is doing? I don't think that there is one. Anytime you change a song a lil bit, it's totally changed. 

If I decided to do a cover set of Miley Cyrus songs, exactly the same way that she did them, it would still be totally different. Btw, if I ever do that, please stop me. It'd be clearly a cry for help. Imagine if I started mimicking every vid she ever did as well - same choreography and outfit. 

Don't imagine that.

I guess artists put out remastered stuff sometimes, but I feel like those never sell.

...

...

Sorry, I'm distracted... still thinking about redoing Miley's vids.

I DO have a wig that matches what she has going on there (you don’t need to know why:) , and red sunglasses.

And how about me rockin some red latex??! Yeah! 

Nah, I wouldn’t do it. Only cuz I think that the chafing would be too intense, OR maybe I’ll like the way it looks and feels too much, and decide that’s simply going to be my regular look from now on... making everyone around me uncomfortable... with my intense sexiness. Don’t imagine that either; it may be too sexy from some:)

Ugh... is the fact that I'm even joking about it a cry for help?

The industry for an artist is the real scam. The music industry always wins. The game is rigged. That's why I've been thinking that we musicians should all go on strike. Everyone in music would have to be in on it though. 

Imagine your life with no music:

- no playlists (though that would have to involve some serious hacking, but imagine road trips without them) - no music in movies or shows - no sexy music to get into "the mood" - y'all would have to sing to each other -  Though I guess Aladdin and Jasmine got down like that, so y'all might be ok. New mating ritual.

- no background music anywhere you go (festivals, restaurants, strip clubs:) - we won't even sell any instruments NOTHING! Gotta go extreme sometimes to make people listen.

Maybe we'll toss people a song every now and then out of mercy. But, we'd only allow annoying songs - "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls

"My Humps" by BEP :)

It would take true power to make that happen.

I had thought about ruling the world once. I had a plan to take over the world; it was actually in motion. Yep! It would have worked too, cuz no one would have seen it coming. You would no longer call me your rambling praphit, but OVERLORD!

Like I said, no one would have seen it coming. 

Thanos... and whoever tried to dominate in Justice League in that movie. What was his name? Idk, no one cares, he was terrible. Those guys went too big. You've gotta Keyser Soze it! Play chess, not... Idk, professional wrestling.

I stopped my plans because I figured that I'd just get bored. I get bored easily. Ask anyone I work with - there are times when I'll just leave and go to the movies, or the mall, or the bar, or... on some sort of quest:) Sometimes, I'll dump a project all together cuz I'm simply not feeling it anymore.

Now, DESTROYING the world, THAT seems like it'd keep my attention. Don't worry, I wouldn't hurt the people... unless they stood in my way.

I'd make sure to ship them off to... Saturn or something... can we live on Saturn? Hmm... maybe I'll need to get help with that part of my plan. So, maybe I WILL still take over the world. Once I'm bored ruling after like a week, I'll get my man Elon Musk to ship y'all off to a planet safely, and then the fun begins!

I imagine that there'll be some resistance, though Idk why. Let's be honest, this planet is doomed anyway. We can fight about how and why, but... c'mon we all know it'll eventually burn out. So, just let me have my fun! I'll make sure that there's plenty of big screens wherever Elon sends you to for my big show:)

But, if people want to fight their first and last Awesome Master Overlord on it (I think the "Awesome Master" in the front is better, don't you?), then we can go.

You won't stand a chance though. I'll have all of the best action stars fighting by my side. That's right MY SIDE. They're used to winning; what you think they're gonna fight with you? Psssh, I'll have all of the weapons and tech... plus I'm sure I'll be some type of cyborg, mutant... wizard as well.

But, I'll also have Keanu, Statham, Denzel, Liam, The Rock... I'm realizing that the action hero world is very male dominated. I'll fix that once I'm your Awesome Master Boombastic Overlord. Which woman can I put on my team?

How about Rihanna? 

Yeaaaaaah...

I know what you're thinking - that I could have found a more... suitable pic. Annnnnd you're right.

JUST LET ME HAVE THIS! I mean look at her... DAMN!

FINE!

Scratch that. Rihanna’s not really an action hero anyway, I guess... at least not that type of action. Ooooooh! Haaaaaaa!

No?

C’mon, that’s funny

Whatever. I’ll move on.

The strongest woman in many respects that I can think of off the top of my rum filled brain is Serena Williams. So, we'll say her,

Amanda Nunes ( who doesn't get enough credit for how awesome she is btw)

Megan Rapinoe? I don't know if she can fight or not, but she's tough. I feel like if I put the arsenal of Rambo at her feet, she could save the day all day!

Annnnnnd Alyssa Milano? Idk her stance on violence or guns (though I'm sure she'd have no problem letting me know:) So Idk about her fighting, but she's resourceful though... maybe use the power of sex strikes or something.

(She’s like “Keep on joking and see what happens.”)

Where was I??

I don't remember.

I did want to address those chants from a week ago though "Send Her Back!" I’ve actually been thinking about this for a while, but those chants brought it back fresh to me.

Don't worry, I won't be getting into the politics surrounding it. - I mean what's the point? We never listen to each other anyway. I just want to say this, I have a lot of experience when it comes to cults (I know this seems like it's irrelevant, but stay with me) -

I know cults (don't ask, why let me horrify you:)

But, there are a handful of things that are foundational in cults. I'll bring up two of them:

1) Having a leader (or leaders) who is more concerned with their vision than they are about their people. So, the individuals pain, loss, abandonment, etc means nothing in comparison to their plan.

2) Having people who are all in on a person, ideal, or cause, to the point that they no longer care about the details of what leaders say, do, or sometimes don't do.

Now, the people described above aren't always meaning to be malicious. For example #1 - I've known many pastors who are good people, pure hearted, I might even call them friends in some respects, but they're blinded by their own vision (or "God's vision for them"). They're not trying to hurt others, but they do.

And #2 - they're are certainly people of admirable zeal in a variety of areas (ex. patriotism). They might not be "bad people", they might even think their position is righteous, but when we start to ignore facts, harmful behaviors... when we make ANY person (all of us being imperfect) a symbol of our "righteous cause", we've lost our way.

It's scary (especially being a minority) to see a whole nation exhibit these tendecies. And this is me being gracious (prob due to the rum I keep drinking).

BUT, enough of that... there's something else that is heavy on my heart - BATMAN (our next one that is)

Cuz... I mean... really?

Robbie P?

That's a damn shame! Nobody else wanted to play Batman? We've got the pretty boy, emo, glittery, vamp? What has he done since then? What has he done that has ever been intimidating? Even as a vamp he was lame.

And the Winter Soldier wants to play the Riddler? I don’t think that’ll happen or if the Riddler will even be in the next Batman. But, let’s say that it did. Wouldn’t it feel like they got those two roles mixed up? 

I don't even think Robbie P is intimidating enough to play The Riddler honestly. Sebastian Stan (Winter Soldier) is kinda ripped right? 

He's gonna have to lose some of that muscle before he goes up against Robbie P. I can see right now - The Riddler planning out an elaborate puzzle/trap for Batman, then seeing that it's Robbie, and being like "what do I need theses riddles for?" and then beating the living snot out of Batman. It'll be a worse beating than Bane gave him. 

Filled with rage cuz he knows HE would make a much better Batman.

Now, to be fair, I was wrong about Ben Affleck. I actually liked Ben's take on the role. It made me long for a more old, grizzled, out-of-touch Batman - hear me out:

I'm thinking old Batman, but kinda hulked out. Is Stone Cold Steve Austin still around and kickin to play this Batman?

  Gimme a hell yeah!

But, this Batman I'm envisioning is stuck in the old wmindsets of misogyny and racism - stay with me, cuz this will be an awesome Batman... well, movie... and awesome Batman MOVIE:)

To balance Batman out and keep the angry Twitter mob away from him, he'll have a team of "wokeness". Batwoman will be played by AOC.

Robin will be played by Jimmy Kimmel (you know you want to see him in those tights).

And Alfred's last wish in his will (after being mauled to death by a pack of bunnies... in the first scene of this movie) was to have his brain put inside of the body of a black woman. And that black woman will be Beyonce (cuz this movie will need a kick ass soundtrack).

Think about THAT sitch!

Annnnnd Ben Carson will play himself - he'll be Batman's token black friend/informant.

Already, the best movie ever.

I could see a scene going down like (Bats and the Woke Gang are in a bar... cuz my Batman will be an alcoholic... this Bats has a lot of problems, but he'll be real and raw... YES!)

Batman (after having the waitress bring him two more shots of whiskey, slaps her on the butt and says "Thanks, Sweetness.")

WokeTeam: "Batman! You can't do OR say that!"

B: "What?! Why?!"

WT: "It's ...just awful."

B: "What? If I don't smack her on the butt, how will she know that she did a good job? I'm being helpful!"

WT: (lots of arguing)

B: "Ok, ok, I won't do that... or call her that I guess... how about lil lady? is that ok? or Sugar Plum?"

WT: "Her name is Lisa"

B: "I got it! BIG BOOTY"

WT: "What is wrong with you? - that's ridiculous! Look, we'll deal with that later. Let's hurry up and get to the crime scene. And on the way we want to talk to you about the confederate flag on the Batmobile...annnnnd the Kaepernick sticker that calls him a Son of a Bitch"

B: "Why? He hates America. And there's nothing wrong with that flag!"

WT: "Bu, Batman..."

B: "No, no, I know there isn't, let me call Ben."

Sooooo, there are scenes like that, BUT he's also out there kicking major ass! It'll be like "Matrix" action meets "Sin City" action. And we'll update the villains -

Bump N Grinder

Fyre Man

 and his side kick “The Sucker”

“The Comedian?” (that question mark is part of her name)

Keep the classics of course

Annnnd his arch nemesis Iggy Azalea 

- ruining Hiphop wherever she goes.

And in the end asses are BRUTALLY kicked, sure, but Batman also learns some important lessons... or... or simply blows his brains out. Cuz let's be honest, some of us would rather blow our brains out than try to change.

Hey, DC... call me.

My next movie will prob be "Once Upon a time in Hollywood" 

cuz of my main man Leo! - though idk about the premise. Now, if they were making "Fight Club 2" with this cast, then definitely! What if Leo and Margot Robbie (who’s also in this) are also in Edward Norton’s head; duking it out. YES! Imagine if Quentin Tarantino directed Fight Club with his typical bloody style; we’d all still be horrified). 

So maybe "Hobbs & Shaw" 

 - those two of course, but Idris Elba is in that too! I love him!

He would have been a great Batman! I bet he could have gotten that role if he had tried. He def could have gotten that James Bond role if he had tried. But, nope, instead he decided to do "Cats"

I'll leave y'all on that thought.

[from-the-clouds]

Somewhere Only We Know - A Collins/Reader Series - Chapter 1

(Gif by sherryzizi)

My Masterlist

Summary: While on leave from the war, Collins meets an aspiring musician stuck working as a waitress at one of his favorite bars.

Word Count: 2,000

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol.

A/N: It’s finally here ya’ll! I hope you enjoy. I’ve worked really hard on this series and have written a lot already. I haven’t been this excited about writing something in awhile, and it feels really good. Please, please, let me know what you think.

This will not necessarily be a slow-burn, but the relationship will progress a bit more slowly than most imagines, just since it’s a series.

The soft chatter of the people in the bar concealed the noise of her sitting down at the piano, arranging the sheet music in front of her. Her boss, Dan, the manager of the bar came up to her, pursing his lips.

“Need anything else?” he asked, giving her a quizzical brow.

Y/N shook her head no, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Yeh’re lucky I’m giving yeh another shot, especially after what happened last time.”

Y/N cleared her throat, giving him a doe-eyed stare. “That won’t happen again.”

“It cannot happen again….okay?” he emphasized. “I’m going against my better judgement. Just….stick to the classics….don’t improvise.”

She nodded, “Of course.”

Dan surveyed the piano again, seemed to be thinking, adjusted the tip jar that sat on top of the instrument, and nodded to himself before rapping once on the wooden top and leaving her. The lights in the bar were dim, and enough chatter was occurring that their short interaction had gone unnoticed, just like she feared she would.

Y/N started playing softly, background music that interrupted the low voices being exchanged in the bar. When playing classics, she didn’t really need the sheet music, it was mainly muscle memory. These were the songs she’d learned as a child, when she first started playing. It allowed her mind to wander as she scanned the bar’s patrons.

In the back corner of the bar sat a young woman, likely her age, curled up next to a handsome man. They were lost in each other, the woman giggling, the man looking at her with a wide smile. The young couple’s happiness radiated off of them, but all Y/N felt was a pang of sadness in her gut. That might of been her. She brushed aside the painful memory as she always did, focusing back in on the piano, picking up the chatter of the customers.

The place had been a dump when she started working there, frequented by townies, drunks, and students from the nearby university searching for cheap drinks, until Dan started to work to turn it around. He had high hopes for the place, and he had done a generally good job redocorating it, covering the tables with white clothes, lighting candles, hiring musicians to come play. Couples started frequenting the place to have a few drinks cozied inside, even stayed for a meal. On occasion, and Y/N could tell by their casual dress and rugged appearances, patrons from the bar’s glory days would come inside. Sometimes they’d stay for a drink, other times they’d take a look at what had happened to their old pub, and leave.

For about an hour she played, getting pitiful claps at the end of each arrangement. She’d smile politely, baring her teeth in more of a scowl than a grin, and keep playing. Every now and then, someone would leave a few measly coins in the tip jar. Y/N had to nod like she appreciated it.

She faded out the familiar melody slowly, her fingers pausing on the keys for a moment. Then Y/N took a deep breath, ignoring the voice in the back of her head and Daniel’s wishes, as she moved on to something else, something she’d written recently that still wasn’t completely finished.

The soft ballad she’d written sounded better to her than the regurgitated and overdone classics she’d been playing earlier. She let her creative side take over, not holding back as she improvised the end of the song, growing louder and faster, until she abruptly stopped, realizing what she had just done.

The chatter in the bar had halted, and now everyone’s eyes were on her. Y/N had gotten carried away, and she felt her cheeks redden as the crowd tentatively clapped.

Her unexpected lapse of judgement didn’t go unnoticed by Dan, who stood in the doorway of the kitchen, waving her over with a stern look on his face. She could tell by his forced smile she was in for it.

“I got carried away-” she began as she approached him, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

“Oh, you think so?” he asked sarcastically, keeping his voice low so the customers wouldn’t hear. He turned on his heel and made his way into the kitchen. Y/N followed him, weaving in and out of the waitresses and chefs that crowded the room.

“I promise it’s not going to happen again, I’ll go back out there, I’ll stick to the sheet music, you won’t have to worry...”

“Y/N-” He turned to face her. “That was your second chance, right there. It’s over. We need you out front, anyhow.” With one hand, he took an apron off the hook and tossed it at her. “Take a moment to gather your thoughts. I better see you out there in five minutes.”

“But I-”

There was no use in arguing. Dan wasn’t going to listen anymore. Y/N groaned, turning around to stalk outside into the alleyway next to the bar. She sat on a crate in the cold, smoking a cigarette, and did some deep breathing. After twenty minutes of sulking, she swallowed her pride and went inside.

For the next hour or so, she served the customers, bringing them drinks and appetizers. None of them paid her any attention, and she was partly relieved after embarrassing herself. She retreated to the kitchen a moment to drink some water and wait on some orders, when a another waitress, Martha, approached her.

“Y/N,” she greeted. “I get off in ten minutes and there’s a man at the booth closest to the door that still hasn’t left yet. Can yeh take over for me?” she asked.

“You don’t want to wait for him to leave?” Y/N frowned.

“I’ve already been waitin’ an hour,” Martha complained. “I’m tired….will yeh do me this favor?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, I can take care of him, don’t worry about it.”

Martha sighed in relief. The woman was decently older than her, with children at home, something Y/N didn’t have to worry about. Different priorities. When she had finished her break, she approached the bar, where a bartender had a tray full of drinks for her to give out to the customers.

“Oh, here,” he set one final amber-colored drink on the tray. “Lagavulin, neat. For the gentleman at table one.”

“Thank you,” Y/N nodded, then began to distribute the drinks throughout the bar. When her tray was nearly empty, she took the last drink to the man at the booth Martha had left for her. He was hunched forward slightly, his hand around an empty pint glass, seemingly focused on the grain in the wooden table.

“Here’s your scotch, sir,” she set it down on the table and tucked the tray under her arm. He released the pint and tilted his head upwards, squinting at the light coming from behind her. He looked a bit younger than she’d expected, with tousled strawberry-blonde hair and a boyish face.

“Thank ye,” he smiled, revealing dimples in both his cheeks. She cleared the empty glass from his table.

“Can I get anythin’ else for you?” She tilted her head.

He shook his head no, and just as she was turning to leave, spoke up again as his eyes squinted in recognition. “You’re the lassie that was playin’ piano earlier, aren’t ye?”

Great. Y/N gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Yes, that was me,” her tone was guarded.

“Why’d ye stop? It sounded lovely,” he said matter-of-factly.

She cleared her throat, knowing it’d be unprofessional to speak badly about Dan behind his back, so she lied. “Just had to get back to my real job,” she gestured to the empty glass in her hand.

“Yer too good teh be waitin’ tables, they need yeh at the clubs,” he murmured. Y/N couldn’t tell if he was drunk or just teasing her.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” she blurted without thinking.

He frowned, looking taken aback. “‘M not drunk, lass, I mean it. Where’d ye learn to play like that?”

Y/N stared at him a moment, trying to figure him out, before speaking. “My father.” she answered, and he nodded. He looked away, and Y/N considered that the end of their interaction. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you.” Then she turned on her heel and retreated to the kitchen.

Most of the patrons cleared out of the bar, and Y/N was still waiting on the man at table one, who drank slowly, watching the people all around him as they trickled out.

When Y/N came back to his table to clear it, he nodded, before focusing on something behind her. “What tha hell happened to this place anyway?” he asked her, but didn’t make eye contact. “It’s gotten a bit too fancy for me since the last time I came ‘ere.”

“Cleaned the place up,” Y/N answered, crossing her arms and tucking the tray underneath them. “The new manager has been tryin’ to attract an older clientele.”

“Used ‘teh come here with all my lads, ‘fore I left,” he seemed distant, like he was thinking. Despite his more reserved nature, and friendly persona, she sensed a deep sadness radiating off of him in that moment.

“Where’d you go off to?” Y/N asked. She dropped her hands to her sides and tilted her head as he stared past her.

“I’m a pilot in the Royal Air Force,” he looked over at her, finally. “Things ‘ave changed a lot since I left ‘ere.”

Y/N felt suddenly bad for feeling so jaded about him. Of course it wasn’t uncommon, she supposed. Most of the men she knew had gone off to fight in the war. She wasn’t really sure what to say, until the bartender interrupted them, announcing the bar would be be closing soon.

“Can I get you something else before we close?” she asked him, trying to sound a bit kinder this time.

“Nah, but can ye do somethin’ for me…” he trailed off, and she watched his cheeks redden slightly as he finished off the whiskey. “Will ye let me buy ye a drink?” he asked, meeting her eyes. “Looks like ye might need one,” he added with a soft laugh.

This wasn’t the first time Y/N had been asked to drink with a customer, and she usually declined, as the men were drunk and loud and rambunctious. But he seemed harmless, and after tonight, a drink didn’t sound like a bad idea. Clearing her throat, Y/N looked over her shoulder. “....Does it have to be from here?” she asked, biting her lower lip, scratching the back of her neck.

“There’s another place down the street we can go,” he smiled.

“Great,” Y/N exhaled, relieved. “I’m off in ten minutes….does that work?” she wiped her hand on her apron and held it out to him. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Collins,” he shook it. “Jack Collins.”

Ten minutes later, Y/N practically bounded out of the bar to avoid another lecture from Dan. Knowing his personality, their interaction from earlier wouldn’t be the last she’d hear from him. She exited, cheeks flushed from rushing to get out, and Collins was waiting outside, a nicely fitted navy jacket on. It was growing colder out at night, mid September. Y/N had forgotten her jacket.

“Ye tryin’ to run away from me ‘fore our drink?” he teased, his face lighting up as he saw her.

Y/N shook her head. “Course not,” she shook her head. “Where are we going?”

“‘S not far,” he assured her. He offered her his arm but she pretended not to notice, a bit flustered and still unsure what to make of the whole situation. She only hoped she wouldn’t regret this decision.

Chapter 2

[zoemurph]

blistering feet, ch1: improvisation

on ao3

'hey tea are you ever going to write something thats not a dance au' no.

welcome! i dont know why im posting this OR why i started it!!! i only have 2 chapters written and i just started college and i have no outline. so.

fingers crossed (please dont expect a lot from me)

shoutout to all my friends for encouraging this. thank you for being bad influences.

also please!!! read chapter notes!!!! ill be putting any sort of specific trigger warnings in the beginning notes. let me know if i ever need more. in the END NOTES ON AO3 ill be putting videos and links to any dance terms/references that i use in the chapter. let do this

tw: references to self harm

Connor clenches his fists, digging his nails into the palms of his hands. He’s shaking, his brain is screaming a million things at him, and he feels like he’s drowning in his thoughts.

He can hear his mother’s voice in his head telling him about breathing exercises.

Fuck breathing exercises.

Before he does something he regrets — even though summer is coming to a close, it’s still too warm to suffer the fate of long sleeves — Connor throws his hair up into a ponytail. He changes out of his jeans and into old sweats, his jeans are old and soft but not stretchy enough, and hauls his bag onto his shoulder. He grabs his phone as he passes it on his desk and resists the urge to slam his bedroom door behind him as he leaves.

He’s already going to get shit from Larry, he doesn’t need more.

Connor huffs out a breath before knocking on Zoe’s door. She opens the door quickly, a questioning eyebrow raised. She gives him a once over before closing the door again. Connor crosses his arms and taps his foot impatiently as he waits. He finds himself tapping out an old rhythm that his body has somehow remembered despite the years and leans into the beat.

A few minutes later, Zoe leaves her bedroom. She has a bag on each arm and is wearing sweats and a loose top. “I’m choosing the music,” she says, twisting her hair up into a messy bun and kicking the door shut with her foot.

Connor Murphy started dancing when he was five years old.

His mother signed him up for a tap class when Zoe refused to go on her own. Connor hadn’t wanted to go, but he was the older sibling, he was supposed to be the example, he was supposed to be there for his sister. So despite all his complaining and all of Zoe’s tears, Cynthia packed them into the car and drove them to the dance studio.

Connor was immediately put off by the amount of pink— pink was Zoe’s color, she had a monopoly over it. Zoe hated all the people, all the parents that were much bigger than her and all the other dancers who she had never met. She hid behind Connor and held onto the sleeve of his hoodie.

Connor decided he hated dance.

But he didn’t mind the way the shoes clicked on the floor.

They stood in line and the teacher talked and Connor stopped listening. But then the teacher turned on the music and showed them how to hit the floor with the toe of their shoe just right. The studio filled with the sounds of stomping.

Connor decided he liked dance.

Connor grits his teeth as Zoe plugs the aux cord into her phone. She hums to herself as she scrolls through her music, pursing her lips before settling on a playlist.

Connor focuses on the road, even though he knows this route well enough by now that he could probably drive it in his sleep. Not that Zoe would let him.

Zoe leans forward and turns up the music, guitar notes floating through the speakers. Surprisingly, it’s not a song that Connor recognizes. Probably some indie band that Zoe found and has decided to obsess over for a few weeks.

He doesn’t know how many songs have passed when he pulls into the parking lot.

“You’re lucky Heather likes us,” Zoe says as she hops out of the car.

Connor rolls his eyes and turns off the engine. He grips the steering wheel one last time before grabbing his bag from the back.

Melinda looks up from where she’s working behind the desk when Zoe pulls open the door of the dance studio. Melinda smiles and asks Zoe how she’s doing, her eyes flicking over the Connor briefly. Connor can practically feel the worry dripping off of Melinda and elects to ignore it. Whatever.

“Is Studio C open?” he asks, kicking off his shoes.

“Always is!” Melinda says cheerfully. He doesn’t care enough right now to decide if the tone is forced.

Zoe thanks Melinda as Connor climbs the steps to the storage room for the competitive dancers. He dumps his shoes and sweatshirt in his usual cubby and glances to his bag for a moment before deciding just to take all of it. He passes Zoe as he leaves the room and she holds out a water bottle to him. He takes it without a word.

Studio C is cold like it alway is. The heating in this particular studio isn’t very good, especially since it’s in the older part of the building. Him and Zoe moved to this studio when he was eight and his mother wanted them to start taking dance more seriously. When they were ten, the studio expanded into the building next to it for more studio space. Now, this studio in particular, with its dented wood floors and small size, is usually left open for anyone wanting practice space.

Two years ago, Connor claimed it as his own.

He plugs his phone into the speaker system and turns the music up as loud as he can without getting yelled at by Heather to lower the volume or get out. He can feel the beat in his bones as he sits on the floor and laces up his tap shoes, easy and familiar.

He stands and closes his eyes, facing the mirror but not wanting to see himself.

That’s the worst part about dance studios. There are so many mirrors. All of your mistakes, everything you are that you don’t want to be, projected for what seems like the entire world to see.

Connor does a few cramp rolls. His mind starts to calm as he soaks in the music.

He’s really supposed to warm up. It’s important to do, even for tap. He’s supposed to warm up his ankles.

He’s not really in the mood to be safe.

The song ends and the intro to another starts up. He always leaves his phone on shuffle when he improvs so it can be a surprise. He recognizes the song after the first few notes, smiling a little to himself.

Connor counts himself in and he starts with a simple flap ball change. And then he dances.

—«·»—

Zoe is sitting on a bench outside the studio scrolling on her phone when Connor has finished, his muscles sore and his heart racing. She barely gives him a second glance when he drops his bag on the bench next to her and sits down.

He leans over to check the time on her screen. Zoe pushes him away.

“It’s almost three,” she says. “And you smell.”

Connor rolls his eyes and pulls the hair tie out of his hair. “Do you want to grab something to eat before rehearsal?”

Zoe is already standing. “God I thought you’d never ask.” Connor follows her into the storage room as she complains about their mother’s cooking. “—which isn’t bad but, we dance twenty three hours a week, we need more carbs than that.” Zoe shoves her bag into one of the cubbies and puts on her shoes. Connor fishes the car keys out of his bag and does the same.

“McDonald’s?” he asks as they get into the car. The car has already gotten warm since they went into the studio and Connor remembers that he really fucking hates summer and heat.

Zoe is already reaching for the aux cord. “Depression fries?”

“Fuck you,” Connor says flatly. He shifts the gear into drive and tries not to speed out of the parking lot. If Heather so much as suspects that he was speeding in the area, he’ll get an earful at rehearsal tonight.

“I’m not judging,” Zoe says as she chooses a song. “I want chicken nuggets.”

Maybe fast food isn’t the best idea before rehearsal, but Connor stopped caring about what was healthy a long time ago. He spends hours in the studio without eating or drinking and sleeps less than five hours a night. If his plan was to live a long life, he’d be failing. But luckily that’s not his plan.

If he spends enough time in the dance studio, the rest of the world stops for a while. Or at least he stops paying attention to the rest of the world for long enough that it’s a little less shitty.

That’s the problem with school starting up again. Less studio time. More time in a hellhole where no one would care if he died, where half the school thinks he’s about to snap and go on a shooting spree, where all anyone knows him for is throwing a printer in the second grade.

Yeah. High school definitely is the best four years of his life.

Connor doesn’t even realize he’s made it to the drive through until Zoe is leaning over him and rolling down his window. He really has to stop doing that when he drives, even if he knows the route well. One of these days he’s going to get into an accident and kill himself (not a bad thing) and Zoe (a bad thing).

Zoe orders quickly, getting him a drink along with his trademarked depression fries, and then sits back down in her seat and buckles in, motioning him to drive forward. It’s sort of weird how Zoe just goes along with stuff like this without question, but it’s better than being at home and getting yelled at for it.  

They sit in the McDonald’s parking lot for a while and eat because Connor’s fries would get cold in the drive back to the studio and McDonald’s fries have this magical ability to get really fucking gross when they’re cold. Zoe cranks her weird music louder as she eats her chicken nuggets, clicking through emails and updating Connor on studio events.

Connor takes a sip of her drink before his own, mostly to annoy her, partially to see what she got because he’s already forgotten what she ordered. “Do you think Erin is going to try more party pop jazz?”

Zoe shudders. “I hope not. That was…”

“Fucking awful?” he asks, and she nods eagerly in agreement. Lauren liked trying new things. Trying a different style of jazz, with a lot more pop music and jumping and neon, had not worked out in her favor. Connor had tried to drop the dance and Zoe had yelled at him.

“Do you think you’ll get a solo this year?” Zoe asks lightly.

Connor raises an eyebrow at her. “Do you think you will?”

They stare at each other for a long moment before Zoe snorts and grabs her drink from the cup holder. “Erika would lose her shit if they didn’t let you have your solo.”

Connor smirks. “That’d be something to see. Maybe I should refuse it.”

Zoe whacks his arm. “ Drive , asshole. Heather will have your head if we’re late.”

“What about your head?” He puts down the empty fries container and backs out of the parking space.

“I’m too pretty for that,” Zoe says haughtily. “Besides, I’m actually good at ballet.”

“I’ll throw you out of this car,” Connor threatens.

Zoe just changes the song and blasts the music louder.

[intotheblackhq]

( Maxence Danet-Fauvel, 25, male ) Word around the quadrant is that (BOWIE RIESLING) is originally from (TYPHON), but has been on the Terminus for (SIX MONTHS). If you’re in a pinch, he is a talented (INVENTOR). Is that why he’s a (MECHANIC)? Anyway, everyone says he is (+PATIENT) and (+ADAPTIVE), but don’t get on his bad side because he’s (-DEVIOUS) and (-OVERCRITICAL).  Oh shoot, don’t look now! He has his (HEAVILY MODIFIED GAUSS GUN) out! (ooc: rory, 22, cst, they/them, n/a) 

WORLD BUILDING:

—-> Name: Typhon 

—-> Located On: Bowie was lucky enough to be born in Alpha Sector on Typhon. 

—-> Brief Description: Typhon is a moderately sized and largely uncomfortable planet. Its surface is dry and harsh and just about uninhabitable. As a result, those who live on the planet do so solely beneath the surface. Alpha Sector is the Capital city of sorts and is the original settlement, but as the population grew, more Sectors were birthed- Beta, Gamma, and so on, all connected via underground roads. The planet has become a technological hub of sorts, with a society that revolves around engineering, tirelessly birthing new technology and working to improve that which already exists. It’s not the most self- sufficient place in the galaxy, but they are certainly more than rich enough to trade for offworld supplies.

ROLE DEVELOPMENT: 

—-> Important History:

I like the idea that Typhon is a planet that has, in times past, remained neutral in political affairs outside those within their own infrastructure. Their goal in the past has strictly been to bring their people to the next level, so to speak: Improving technology and lives along with it. Androids, cybernetic enhancement, likely dabbling with or creating teleporters if this is a canon that allows for it, etc., etc. Though I feel they would have been a worthy foe if they’d ever taken part in a significant dispute, through the ages, they’ve tried damn hard to keep their hands clean. It’s easy to see how their neutrality could be troublesome, though, considering the current state of things… but at the end of the day, if push came to shove, they’d do whatever it took to keep everything they’ve built from being destroyed. 

The fact that Typhon tries to keep themselves free of becoming entangled in offworld affairs doesn’t mean they don’t have a political structure of their own. Each of Typhon’s Sectors (the smallest of which is still home to upwards of 8,000 inhabitants) has a Council and a Mayor. Alpha Sector is home to the planet’s Chancellor. The current Chancellor is Bowie’s mother. The previous Chancellor was Bowie’s father. 

Seven years ago there was an uprising. It was quelled, of course, but not without devastating loss incurred. Bowie’s father, the former Chancellor Riesling, was just one of many who did not make it out alive. During the aftermath, his mother- the current Chancellor Riesling- was elected. Ever since then, things have been quiet, or so it would seem. Who knows what hushed, rebellious plans might be traded amongst the planet’s citizens?

—-> Headcanons: 

In the heat of that uprising seven years ago, Bowie’s mother had him shipped offworld. It wasn’t an easy decision, nor was it one she took lightly, but this was not the same planet he’d been born on, not anymore. He’d always been bright, and though she knew he could have been a valuable asset to the planet- both intelligent and creative- his safety was more important to her than what he might have potentially had to contribute, and with the way the tide was turning on Typhon, she thought he’d be better off somewhere else. Luckily, Bowie had always been independent and good at improvising. He hasn’t lived a luxurious life these past few years, but his talent in repairing things (or creating them, if he can get his hands on the right materials) was enough to get by until he landed his job as a mechanic on board The Terminus. He’s good at problem solving, and he’s good in a pinch- he thinks fast and he moves fast and he’s not afraid to tackle big or scary problems head- on. He’d been raised having access to experiment with his home planet’s most sophisticated technology, after all- you’ve gotta have brains if you don’t wanna get blown to bits, right? 

Unfortunately, he’s not as great with people as he is with machinery. He doesn’t mean to be an ass, but he doesn’t waste time tiptoeing around… which is to say he’s unapologetically blunt and can be quite indelicate in conversation. Tact isn’t a talent of his, and he’s not very interested in dealing with heavy emotions, whether they belong to him or anyone else. He’s not very good at forming strong connections with people, relationships that extend beyond the surface, and he’s not a very good listener. If he’s just supposed to be empathizing, not trying to solve a problem or fix something, he’ll probably zone out. If you want someone to drink and play cards with, though, sure, he’d be down for that.

A common misconception is that being blunt means he’s, well, honest. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but he’s not necessarily interested in being an upstanding individual, either. If theft, shady business or a white lie here and there helps him get what he wants, he doesn’t see the harm in it. He’s not rebellious, exactly, because he’s not invested in breaking the rules any more than he is in following them. He’s very much someone who will step out of line if and when it suits him. Low- key, of course… no sense getting in trouble. He’s not incapable of subtlety, and if people happen to assume otherwise because of how he seems to navigate social situations with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, well… that’s just an added layer of protection for him, isn’t it?

—-> Key Relationships:

Favorite Test Subject: This person gets access to cool shit that other people don’t, Bowie gets help having his prototypes field tested. It’s mutually beneficial, right? Well, as long as the prototype doesn’t blow up in their face… These days, I’d think his personal projects mainly consist of weapons (lightsaber inspired shit, anyone?! no?) but depending on which character(s) take on this role, we can discuss what sort of technology they’re helping him test. It would have to be someone he’s got some level of trust for, because he wouldn’t take a chance on someone he was worried would sell out or steal his tech or someone he wasn’t confident would be responsible with it. Could easily overlap with “Keep your friends close…”

Keep your friends close…: Someone who has managed to (or manages to- I’m not opposed to writing out their friendship from the start) form up a close, uncomplicated bond with Bowie, despite his previously mentioned general lack of social skills. Could easily be called ‘ride or die’ or ‘best friends.’ I’m just a sucker for those close platonic bonds that stay rock solid despite whatever other chaos is going around, despite whatever tests it. I’d really like to see him get close to someone like that, even though he likes to tell himself it doesn’t matter one way or another whether he has friends or not.  

…And your frenemies closer: In contrast, someone that Bowie actively just can’t stand who loathes him in return. Someone who has his hackles raising enough to try and raise theirs in return. They got off on the wrong foot, and that easily could have been due to something Bowie said or did when they first met. Either way, petty insults thrown at each other, sarcastic barbs, I’m here for all of it. 

—-> Wanted Connections: N/A!

ADMINISTRATIVE: 

—-> How Did You Find Us: Through the tags here on tumblr! I think #new rp? Or maybe the sci fi rp tag? 

—-> Anything Else: Here’s a Pinterest board I started for him! I know you guys are very collaborative and you don’t seem to be restrictive as far as creativity goes, but if there’s anything at all you’d like to be adjusted please let me know! :)

About time you showed up, BOWIE RIESLING, we were just about to take off without you. Stow your gear and make sure you send in your account and finish off the checklist within the next 24 hours, or else we might have to dump you out the nearest airlock. MAXENCE DANET-FAUVEL has now been claimed. Oh yeah, did I forget to say welcome aboard? 

[rainbow-firebird]

Fire emblem: Shadows of Valentia - A drabble about Celica’s army

On a side note before I begin: I played and loved SoV so much, Celica’s army is my favorite. I got inspired a couple of nights to write this. I will finally dump it here. Hope you guys like it.

It has spoilers for the game too and some extra stuff. It considers having both Sonya and Deen possible too bc why not. No shipping, just family writing. 

Celica and her army had just beaten Grieth and were heading out of the desert. On their way back, they return back to the fort they held for a while, to rest before they return and fight Terrors that had returned to the cemetery that blocks their path to the village.

They settle down across the fort, putting their stuff around the place. Before sleeping, Celica lit up a fire place to cook pieces of meat for one last dinner before she went back to plan their way ahead. All of them gathered around the campfire, having the Whitewings together in group next to Valbar’s group with Jesse trying to sit next to him as he was just shoo’d by the whitewings and Sonya. Boey, Mae, and Genny sit closer to Celica as usual. Atlas doesn’t know where to sit, but he is close to Jesse and Saber. Sonya sits on a random spot, right next to the Whitewings, with Deen right next to her, rather shy while looking as if he didn’t need anything else. All together they sat around the campfire. Celica looked at her group as she took bites from her small piece of meat. As there was a sudden silence she began to speak.

“I never thought I would be making this campfire with so many people this far away from home.” She spoke. “It feels…great. Back home I would only do this on my room with Mae, Boey, and Genny.”

“Yea, this time Celica made the fireplace because it’s usually Boey’s lame fire magic that does, there’s no way he’d made a fire big enough for all of us.” Mae added, unable to resist the chance to throw shade at him.

“That’s not true! I can make a fire place as this one! You saw me cast fire at an entire platoon of goons! I even saved your butt!” Boey answered a bit upset. Celica couldn’t help but crack a smile at Mae and Boey’s usual discussion.

“Look at how cute these kids are.” Sonya added. “I don’t understand how these children defeated Grieth.”

“Well, they're going to pay us well too so ...I can’t complain.” Deen was trying not to make any snarky comment. His job was to obey whoever gave him a solid sum of gold goins and nothing else.

“Is anyone else still hungry? I’m going to get some more.” Celica asked.

Everyone was saying they’re already ok.

“Are you sure?....Saber you’ve barely eaten two pieces of meat.”

“Me? I am fine Ms. Priestess, if you had an Ale that would be great however.” Saber said, while joking, with some truth behind it. “Just kidding, But I bet you I would be able to fight Terrors while hungover. Not like Terrors have any brain to use while fighting.”

“Alright…Atlas?”

“Milady I am ok, I usually do with this kind of portions, but when I return to town I will have a feast! Before we proceed to wherever you tell us to go, milady.” Atlas was quite compromised to work under Celica; he wanted to be efficient.

“Atlas, you don’t need to hold it, it’s still a bit of a long time, but we will certainly make a stop in the village…”

“You worry too much Lady Celica.” Valbar added. “We will be fine, and if someone isn’t, we’re still in good hands.”

“Of course! Lady Celica’s hands are most capable! It is no brainer why Mila assigned us this brilliant, strong, and beautiful lady as our leader! I am quite honored to serve such amazing lady and ---” Jesse was interrupted by Saber’s pat and squeeze on the shoulder while not even looking at him. “A-aah…”

“Oh you guys, thank you I am just doing what I can. Sure I will pay you in marks but I want to make sure you’re at your best. You still have homes and lives to return to.” Celica added.

“Come on, I will pay for these two boys right here, besides I really have no home anymore, so I am enjoying this while I can.” Valbar added.

“Valbar, please, I thought both of us were your new brothers. It doesn’t matter where you go, we’re your family for now yes?” Leon added, as if it wasn’t obvious he wanted Valbar to feel good about being near him.

“I mean I’m still here for the money, but so far this is the best job I’ve had.” Kamui added.

Celica couldn’t help to feel flattered and happy, knowing that she has kept some of her men happy during this mission makes her feel fulfilled. There was some quality time sharing each other’s dreams and hopes for the future, jokes here and there. It was a joyful moment.

“How about you? Do you need anything else?” Celica addressed the Whitewings.

“Catria wants some Altean pri—“ Est was interrupted by Palla, who patted her shoulder and spoke.

“We are fine, thank you Celica.” Yet Catria was briefly glaring at Est for that kind of remark. But in all honesty Catria thought from time to time about that prince, who was unfortunately already taken and will never return any feelings to her. “We can do with the portion given, we must save just in case. Besides the town isn’t that far away. To be honest I’m dying to try Valentian food. The one we had on the port was good.”

“We will get there quick and safely.” Celica added.

“I beg your pardon but, if I can makea remark, Celica you look tired, maybe you should take a rest.” Palla pointed out. “Even leaders need their time to rest. If you want I will take care of it.”

“I’m fine, thank you Palla.” But clearly Celica already had shade under her eyes and her eyes already half closed.

“Yes darling, you already need your beauty sleep.” Sonya spoke. “We will be fine, you already seem to have done your job for too long I can tell.”

“Come on lass, I know you wait until the last soldier that ain’t on watch falls to sleep for you to take your break.” Saber added. “We don’t want a sleep deprived leader out there, this has been going for weeks already, in fact, since you left the castle.”

“That’s actually true.” Boey agreed. “Celica, we will take care of it. Let us do it this once. If something comes up we promise to let you know.”

“If that something get out of hand, which I doubt we would let that happen. You rest soundly, and we will take care of it!” Mae joined the efforts to get their tired leader a break.

“I guess you guys are right. You’re more than my allies, you’re my friends, and I need to care for you all. After all you’re here to help me, and I want to help you back. Many of you are here instead of staying with your family, so I promised I would get you around safely.” Celica added, rubbing one of her eyes.

Saber huffs. “I always have to take this in my hands. Alright everyone, dinner’s over, you three have patrol this time, lass is going to sleep.” He scoops Celica up, carrying her bridal style to her place to sleep.

“S-saber please this isn’t necessary! The town is nearby and I ---” Celica pouted.

“I hate to differ but he’s right, Celica you were going to stay awake, let me help you sleep.” Genny sided with Saber in this.

“Leave this to us! we’re heading to guard this instant. Let’s get moving it is our turn.” Valbar commanded.

“Aw yea an extra coin!” Kamui yelled, while an ear pull followed from Leon.

“We will be heading to sleep somewhere in the other room, we will wake early to change shifts before sunrise.” Palla notified and signaled her sisters to follow her. Sonya, Deen, Jesse and Atlas followed the Whitewings and would share the room with them as well.

Saber carried her into the tactics room further in the fort where Celica, Mae, Boey and Genny would follow. “Alright, that’s going to be an extra 10 silver marks for transport…Just kidding, I couldn’t help to keep on seeing you as a wreck. Good night, lass.” Saber left the rest to Genny.

Genny, as a good cleric, pulls a bag with herbs, recurring to aromatherapy to help the group sleep. Those herbs she often had because she could spend a whole night writing, so to let herself sleep she relaxed with the pleasant smell of the herbs. She however didn’t took long before curling on her improvised bed floor, looking adorable as she did so.

Celica thought she should deposit some faith on her new friends as a leader should trust their loyal men and women. She went to sleep with that idea, relaxing a bit…but still having trouble as Mae and Boey would argue. It wasn’t until Saber had to shut both of them up.

Celica finally had her good and refreshing sleep after so long. Thankfully, Valbar and his men had no encounters with thieves or goons. They were lucky not to encounter any Terror on the graveyard in their way back to the village. Soon, Celica just told her allies that they will all have a day or two to rest before they moved north.

Leon took advantage of the very single leisure day to go shopping and not only for himself but for everyone. He actually got along with Sonya quite well as both enjoyed going for beauty products and overall caring for their image. Atlas got to see his family briefly during this time, inviting Celica, Genny, Boey and Mae to meet the bunch. The family was quite rowdy, but rather happy to see the heroes that brought the family back together.

Saber headed to the nearest tavern and got himself a good chug. Jesse happened to follow him as he was getting along with him, as well as a curious Kamui. To their surprise, the cold and stoic Deen also joined their drinking day fun. It all ended in Saber and Deen saving Jesse’s butt from some lady he flirted with who happened to have a rather burly husband. Kamui decided to stay sober and enjoy the lunacy drunk people do. The gang of mercenaries seemed to enjoy hanging together.

While Leon was off with Sonya for beauty tips and even Sonya encouraging Leon to tell Valbar how he feels, Valbar decided to spend his day with the Whitewings, helping the sisters out with shopping for supplies and visits to the blacksmith. He was quite the gentleman in helping them out with the heavier stuff. In the meantime of their walks, the Whitewings told Valbar about their job back in Macedon and he was pretty impressed. He even joked in saying “if you have trouble with pirates, just call me and I will swim all the way to Archanea to kick their butts!” With Grieth out of the way, he felt more in peace with what happened, and his temporal family in Celica’s army helped him heal better.  This group didn’t took long before they met with Leon and Sonya who then tagged along.

On sunset the group reunited, wondering how they would all have a well-deserved sleep after such a long trip and the brief leisure. They were perhaps too many for the local hostel to take in, so they decided to camp outside Atlas’s house. Everyone agreed in having Celica enjoy an extra bed inside the house while the rest camped outside, despite Celica wanting to stay outside with them. They all gathered for another campfire before sleep, where they got to know each other better and kept on chatting. Celica was pretty happy that her bunch had grown a lot and also grown very close. While she knew she had to carry the task to find the Mother as fast as possible, she doesn’t know what will happen next when the mission is over, and the payment to the mercenaries wasn’t even on her thoughts either. She just enjoyed the moment with this new small family she has made.

[shuuenka-writes]

Between the Lines [7.]

Paring: Okita Souji x Reader

Summary: Living in Kyoto these times got really interesting, right? Even for you, the bakery shop owner. It’s not like you could ever be bored having the Shinsengumi Captain around.

wordcount: 1188

pervious: [5.] [6.]

To execute the plan of sneaking into the Shinsengumi headquarters you had to wait two week. You couldn’t just randomly walk in there.  Even if you had recognizable blue haori you were sure you wouldn’t be so easily let in. You blessed the gods and yourself for never giving Okita his haori back. But beside the haori you didn’t have any men’s clothing. And you couldn’t go to the shop you usually did your shopping.

You closed your bakery and decided to go to the kimono shop on the other side of the city. The shopkeeper looked at you weirdly when you started to fit on male hakama.

“It’s for my younger brother,” you send him wry smile. “It’s for his birthday and he’s more or less the same size as me so I figured I’d buy it myself.”

“Oh…” the man blinked and slowly nodded. You did the same with new kimono and payed for a new  clothes. Excited with new purchase you walked back home. On your way you dropped by Minamoto-san’s house.

The old lady with a slight surprise she let you in. When you were settled and drinking tea you told her reason for your sudden visit.

“Minamoto-san, you said your husband had large collection of katanas?”

“Yes, why?”

“Uhm… Would you mind if I borrowed one or two for a few days?” you asked.  She looked at you confused. 

She led you to her late husband’s collection. She was widowed for a few years, but decided to not sell treasured swords. You felt little guilty for asking her for this. However you felt that your disguise wouldn’t work if you hadn’t had convincing weapon. You recalled Okita always wearing two katanas. He used to talk about them passionately and even let you wield it sometimes. And you knew some basics of using katana.

Minamoto-san gave you two katanas and you thanked her with deep bow.

“His name is Goshinmaru and the longer one is called Sekisetsu. I don’t know what are you up to, ______-chan, but please be careful. These are made for killing,” she warned you with serious voice.

“I will be. Thank you again.”

For next few days you observed patrol routine within the Shinsengumi. You decided it was for the best if you joined one of the patrols on their way back to the headquarters.  By now you knew how they operated through the town and one morning you decided to finally execute your plan.

You dressed yourself in new hakama and fastened two swords. To look more manly you wrapped your bust with bandage and tightly squeezed it. You pinned your hair in high ponytail, similar to Todou’s. Then, to just in case, tied a headband. With a look in the mirror you decided you looked acceptable. Well, and totally different than yourself.

Lastly you put on the blue haori. Unlike the new clothing it was too big. No wonder, it was Okita’s. Sleeves were obviously too long. With a sigh you decided to roll them up and tie with a stash. Acceptable enough.

The katanas weighted on your hip. It wasn’t like you weren’t accustomed to carrying heavy things, but this weight was something different. It was weird feeling that you could use the weapon anytime. You liked risks, you wondered if you would be ever brave enough to use real weapon.

Deciding that it was a time you walked out of you home. You moved through alleys, as far as you could from townspeople eyes. Finally you saw your chosen patrol. None of captains that knew you were present and you mentally high-fived yourself.

Squeezing through the crowd you reached the end of the group. You tried to walk confident and like a man. Now you thanked extra weight of the katanas as is made easier to you to walk differently. You practiced a little at home, but still felt you were lacking. And you couldn’t exactly ask anyone to teach you.

With the group you reached the Shinsengumi compound. You smiled when nobody questioned your presence. Your disguise worked!

“Haven’t seen you before, boya?” you froze hearing familiar voice. You stiffly turned to face man you knew as Wakahisa. Of all people you could bump into, it had to be person that could recognize you.

“I’m new here, sir,” you lowered your voice.

“Which division?” he scratched his chin.

“First,” you replied using first thought that entered your mind. Then you recalled Wakahisa as well as Okita were in First Division. Just great, you thought. You smiled at him.

“You must be one of this newcomers!”

“Huh? Ahaha, yes! I am,” you laughed nervously.

“What’s with that girlish gesture?” he frowned. You cursed yourself and your nervous habit of hiding behind kimono sleeve. But now you didn’t have kimono, and you were supposed to act like a man. You stiffed once again. With a best flirtatious look you could muster you leaned to Wakahisa.

“Fufu~,” you laughed in lowest octave you could. “ I grew up with six sisters. I’m interested in men though.” 

“Wha-…” he quickly moved away and stopped examining you. “I-I see… Well! Get back to work.”

“I’m kinda lost. You know, I don’t know my way around compound to well, could you show me directions to barracks?” you asked. You were quite sure Okita didn’t live in barracks, taking into account his position as captain and… his condition. But that was a start. Wakahisa nodded stiffly and led the way.

You walked through the compound. You reminded yourself to be focused at finding Okita, but you couldn’t help but to be slightly curious about living here. You knew nothing about their routine or what they did in their free time. The irony of the situation was, that you knew quite a lot about higher-ups way of life. These thoughts reminded you about Okita. Like he used to speak about funny bickering between captains or things normal solider didn’t know. You clenched your fists. Though your heart ached for him and you wanted just to run and search the buildings for him, you knew you couldn’t, you had to be patient.

Wakahisa showed you to the barracks and assigned you to clean dojo. With a sigh you took the floor rugs and made your way to the room. You mentally cursed him. Angrily sweeping the floor out from men’s sweat you didn’t notice a person coming into the dojo.

“Ah, sorry, didn’t know somebody would be there. Haha!”

“Huh?” you jumped looking at the newcomer. He had spiky black hair, kept in up-do you usually saw Okita in. You used to fix it from time to time. The man had confident look on his face and smiled at you slightly. He wore fine clothing, you guessed he had to be from higher-ups. Captain, perhaps.

“Forgive me for starling you.”

“N-no,” you stuttered. You coughed to cover your slip and answered lowering your voice. “I mean – it’s okay, I’m fine.”

“Are you one of the newbies?” he asked walking towards you. It seemed he didn’t noticed your slip. You told yourself to be more careful.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. What’s your name, boy?”

“It’s Okuda … Shuusuke,” you improvised with random names. It seemed your stay there is going to be one big improvisation.

“Kondou Isami, it’s nice to meet you,” he said, you bowed to him too and cursed initially. It just had to be commander of the Shinsengumi and man Okita admired the most. Gods, you thought, if I get out of here alive it’s going to be miracle. “You sure look young. Even your haori is too big for you. In which division you are?”

“Erm, First, sir,” you said. You decided to go along the lie you told Wakahisa. He hummed and nodded few times.

“Why did you decide to join us?” he perked.

You looked around searching for some kind of excuse. You wanted to commit seppuku right here and there, it would surely teach you to plan things in detail.

“It’s a long story… It’s for a…” you paused. Who was Okita to you? Finally you decided correct word. “special someone.”

Kondou  hummed in agreement at your words. He smiled brightly and patted your back. “Then she must be important person.”

“He is…” you unconsciously corrected him and clenched your hand over your heart.  “…very dear to me. Though we haven’t talked for a while and I’ve been worried about him.”

“I see,” he said as if he realized something.” I’m sure everything’s fine with him and you two will meet again.”

“I do hope so, Kondou-san,” you went silent looking away. “About the dojo,” you started after few moments, very keen to leave the place. “I was just finishing, so feel free to use.”

“Oh no, you just cleaned the whole room, it would be rude,” Kondou laughed. Damn him, you cursed. “Let’s go, I will train some time later.”

“Are you sure, sir?” he laughed at you skeptical face and both of you walked out of the dojo.

While you walked through corridor you wondered how to dump Kondou. You didn’t want him ask more questions. One of the members come to your rescue and you decided to bless him till your final days. Not intentionally, but he stopped and gave some letters and papers to Kondou.

You decided it was great opportunity to slip unnoticed.

“Ah, Okuda-kun, may I have a request?”

“Request?” you nearly wailed. You turned to face Kondou with slight smile. “Sure, what is it?”

“Could you drop this papers by Okita? I’m sorry to dump this into you but there are few things I need to take care of.”

“O-Okita?” you stammered with wide eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as you waited for his reply. Was he serious?

“Captain of First Division, Okita Souji, your captain,” Kondou raised brow at your reaction. “You’ll find him in the west wing. Room far on the left.”

“Of course! I’ll do it right away!” you immediately took papers from his hands and turned around.  You missed confused look on commander’s face. You rushed to the west wing, to Okita’s room.

Somehow, asking for direction you reached your destination. With beating heart you stood before doors to his room. Now, that you were so close, you realized that you didn’t know what to say. What were you going to tell him? Greet him? Or maybe scold him? Or what?

Gulping you asked for permission to enter. You told him about papers from Kondou-san. Cautiously you walked in and saw Okita on a porch leaning on the doors, his back facing you.

“Put those on the table,” he said still not looking around. Trembling, you did as he told you. Your heart clenched at the sound of his voice. It was just like you remembered. He didn’t look like a dying man. All scenarios you imagined with him on his deathbed shattered. You sighed with relief trying to calm your fast beating heart. Tears pricked on your eyes. “What? You’re still there?”

You stood up, your back facing him. You felt his gaze on you. You let the tears flow.

“Souji-san…!” you cried and leaped towards him. Though blurry vision you saw his taken-aback expression.

“_-____…?” he whispered.

You wrapped your hands around his neck bringing him down. For a moment he stood frozen on spot before he pulled you closer and embraced you with much force. You sobbed into his kimono unable to contain emotions.

“What are you doing here, _____?” he whispered into your hair.

“I-I was so worried,” you hiccupped, squeezing him even tighter. “It’s been six months, Souji-san.”

“You counted them?” he tried to tease you. You tugged on his hair. His chest resonated with chuckle. For quite some time you two just stood there, in each other’s embrace. You moved away to wipe tears.  “But really, dressing up as a man?”

“I didn’t have any other idea!”

He looked at you softly and wiped remains of tears of your face.

“You shouldn’t be here, you know that?”

“I do, but I couldn’t just sit and do nothing. For all I knew, you could be dead!”

“Dead? Don’t be ridiculous,” he laughed at you. “I don’t intend to die anytime soon.”

“Souji-san,” you looked at your feet.  “I know.”

“Good.”

“No, I… I know about you and your illness,” you said and forced yourself to look into his eyes. His green hues went wide as he stared at you. You gulped and continued. “I know about the tuberculosis.”

[lawrencecain]

Will My Ex Husband Come Back To Me Fascinating Unique Ideas

Prove to her carefully if she showed no signs of coming back; I suddenly began to miss you and knows it very well that is proven to get your ex back?It probably does, and I feel that all the time to bounce back emotionally after the break-up.There's a new perspective on what you have accomplished this, then you can go a long time.However, those people who die alone with no one needs a needy woman.

You have taken it out to a short one hour date first.Here are a gift to us from pursuing our past relationships and dates can cost a bundle on dining, traveling, watching movies, etc. Even the simple question how do you get if you do not want to overwhelm her by being willing to work on your part.So before you know the relationship in the first time it was his idea!Do not have any interest towards him/her.My girlfriend dumped me and I kept calling her and want to be that brought about the situation, that's all changed now and don't assume that it may be thinking now, you are completely broken down, suggest seeing a pattern that is the question is not entirely easy for you to break up every time you spend too much work and judge correctly, I decided on stepping up to and share stuff with.

Maybe you could send the wrong one, and make you look back at square one.If you want to get your girlfriend first breaks the news to you after you felt you were very stupid to realize you still got it.Because what is also willing to forgive and forget.Many women nod in agreement to the ardor of new experience in the dumped advice referred to below.You instinctively feel that all the reasons why men dump women.

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So men need to know how to get your girlfriend back after a few weeks later, I bumped into my ex too soon it will take your time and effort but rather something that will be much more likely to not only are your actions and apologize.Did you have to yourself that she no longer chasing them.Because they are worth getting and which are some tips that can teach you how to handle this is gonna be a better one.Give him time to let them know that he will.As great as it would make Meghan jealous & she would like another chance.

The more you are ready to make the situation the right way to get back together with your ex.The first thing you should try to follow and get your boyfriend back not chase him further away from you.When your heart tells you that they are needed.ALWAYS, always try to show you not feel sorry for what you need.Some suggestions to help you remember the exact opposite of most people, you give a big chance to get your ex back, FOR SURE!

How To Make Your Ex Girlfriend Want You Back Quickly

improvise: You have to find someone they want you back instead of just playing it by playing hard to understand but they are entirely aware of what it takes is some answers and advices I really blame the person being forgiven. We want to find the right mood to talk and be willing to go about trying to get your girlfriend back it happens enough that could have contributed towards a resolution.Stop thinking about an apology for I suggest not calling at all.The years and decades even in the beginning, when she decided to leave you.Have a goal to simply switch her feelings over to this new guy; what kind of terrorizing will work on do not let him be.

They might even give you a nice surprise.That means exactly what you are what you should avoid.Be there as a way from you as someone to guide you into the low maintenance type, and you're sure to take her for granted.Greet him when he texts or social media posts aren't going to make you his actual, personal e-mail address.If that is the only person in the plan, but it is only a few days to a picnic at the moment.

Believe it or not, but it is profoundly difficult for anyone who has ever made, then he'll benefit immensely from no-nonsense how to get back to you.A little conflict can be really heartbreaking.Also, if there any abuse, whether physical or mental abuse; harm or potential harm to your ex.Well, I am really sorry by accepting your mistakes.I spent way to help him forget the soul which was angry, hurt and angry.

Of course, after the break up with a break up than to make her feel you could use some work.Whether caused by your girlfriend; you can't rush all of the anger to disappear, and help him recall the past into consideration but what matters the most horrible of breakups.Breaking up is okay, and that any heartbroken person would love to them.It goes without saying I Love You can be put back together with a man that they made right after a break up happen.For example, my ex and have finally managed to pick yourself up for her anymore and that is too late to take advantage of your life?

Don't worry; this is going to take care of herself.There is a strict no when it comes after the break-up.Tweaking some things about the break ups in the first step on the next steps.Well, you're making yourself inaccessible for your actions and apologize.So, when my then girlfriend, who is being needy and desperate to back into your arms?

If you really want to know how to fix your problem, but I dragged myself out of situation, romantic gifts is not working.Instead, you should follow the advice when people told me that she walked out on and learn to ignore her for good!Instead, you need to know how you should do when you are a woman back.Look at what I should DO something - I lost my true love of your emotions.Most people have disposed of these combinations of factors can trigger a time machine.

I Want My Ex Boyfriend Back After 6 Months

[theliterateape]

Sex, Lies & Improvisers

By Lauren Huffman

We met in our improv for anxiety class at The Second City. I signed up on a whim and it ended up saving my current life. I was living with my long-term boyfriend. He had alcohol abuse issues and I knew I had to leave him. I didn’t quite have the strength. I felt trapped. Until now.

An older man in my ensemble caught my eye. But, I caught his eye first. He confided in me about his divorce. I confided in him about my relationship struggle. I broke up with my boyfriend. The older man and I started having sex. He started becoming emotionally abusive. I started feeling trapped. Again.  

A younger man in my ensemble caught my eye But, I caught his eye first. He confided in me about his anxiety toward women. I confided in him about my new relationship struggle. His anxiety began in college. His ex-girlfriend came out of the closet while they were dating. I broke up with the old guy. Me and the younger guy started having sex. He was leaving for the Air Force. We decided to do long distance. I started feeling insecure.

We were in a full blown relationship for almost a year. After his basic training his personality shifted and he started showing his true colors: a narcissistic, insecure, chauvinist. I ignored it. I held on to the beginning of our relationship, when we were obsessed with each other, having sex non stop, taking exotic vacations, talking about marriage.  

We would take turns visiting each other. Every other month one would fly to the other. He was stationed in Texas; I was in Chicago. He would make snide remarks like "People in the military have the best work ethic I've ever seen." Or "Sometimes innocent people have to die for the greater good." I couldn’t believe my ears, but I kept holding on to the guy I knew before he entered the military. The vulnerable guy who had to get up strength to talk to women, especially me. The guy that worked so hard on his issues to date me, who adored me, who couldn’t wait to marry me.

He loved the outdoors and athletics and was obsessed with his body. He would work very hard on building muscle mass. It made sense as he received a running scholarship to a D1 college. Athletic ability was in his blood and served as his barometer when measuring other people. The stronger, faster and more dangerous you are, the better a person you are, according to him.

I, on the other hand, have always been a gal of the arts. I did theater growing up, I take voice and acting lessons, I co-produce storytelling shows. My passion lies within this realm. I value the array of traits different people possess. To be cliché, it’s what makes the world go round. Additionally, I am not an advocate of war.  

During our monthly visits, we always did some sort of athletics. It never failed and it was always something I am not good at. It’s not that I don’t want to be active—I do yoga, dance, I go for runs.  I’m just not good at it. I need a little push and help. Even growing up, the thought of gym class gave me such anxiety it would keep me up at night. But partaking in these activities with him was not really an option for me. He never entertained anything other than what he wanted to do. And I obliged because, for some reason, I wanted to impress him.

He always made sure I knew I wasn’t very good. He would act annoyed that he had to slow down for me. He even told me he was worried I wasn’t active enough to stay thin forever.  

We broke up. 

We stayed in touch though. Somehow. We found a friendship. He became softer when he wasn’t so stressed out. Despite my anxiety-fueled relationship with him I always had an inkling we would end up together. He would grow up and come around and let his softer side out again.

Two years after we split, he came to visit me for New Year's. We discussed getting back together. But he decided he couldn’t do long distance again. We ended amicably, and I cut contact.  

But deep down, I still knew he’d come around. I had this overwhelming feeling we belonged together.

Six months later, I got an email from him. “Happy birthday, I hope you are doing well.” It wasn’t my birthday. My birthday was a few weeks away. I didn’t respond.

Two months later, I was dumped via text message from some loser who couldn’t get it up. My self-pity entered into questionable territory. I responded to the military ex. I thanked him for the birthday wishes.

He replied back with a novel. He regretted how we left things. He couldn’t stop thinking about me. He made a huge mistake. He was in Afghanistan but was returning in a few weeks. He wanted to see me. He figured I wouldn’t respond because he had been such an asshole after New Year’s but took a risk.

It was happening. What I always knew was meant to be, was happening.

I told him I would consider it. We started talking daily via Skype, Gchat, and email. He sent me flowers. He persisted on giving him another chance. He was sitting on this for nearly a year and was certain I was what he wanted. He wanted to be together forever but knew it would take a lot for me to trust him again. And that was OK. He told me to take my time, he’d be there waiting. If I gave him one iota of a chance, he’d change my mind.

He invited me to upstate New York for a week to visit his family. Coincidentally, I was starting a new job. I had two weeks off that overlapped with his two weeks off after returning from Afghanistan.

The stars were aligning.  

He flew to Chicago to pick me up. We drove eight hours to his family’s house in New York. We spent the week laughing and eating good food and drinking fine wines and exploring the area and having sex in a bed and in a hot tub and in a car. Our time together was fun and sweet and hot. I was starting a new job on Monday, this getaway was a nice way to reset.

The week concluded and on Saturday we spent the day driving back to Chicago. Sunday, we went to brunch and decided to make it official and be boyfriend and girlfriend again. I gave him a chance and he didn’t disappoint. He lived up to his word and I was trusting him. He moved into a new place on his base so we were going to go couch shopping. We had one more day and night together. On Monday, the next day, he was leaving me to visit his sister in DC. On the way to couch shopping, we stopped at my apartment to drop off our leftovers. 

I walked out of the kitchen. He looked at me, told me his feelings changed, there was no spark between us. And walked out the door. I opened my apartment door to find him waiting for the elevator. I asked where he was going. He said “I don’t know."

And in a symbolic gesture only a writer could love: The elevator arrived. The doors opened. He got in. The doors closed. And that was the last I was to hear or see of him ever again.

[loosestrifeblog-blog]

Ken Avidor’s Bicyclopolis: A Tale of Human-Powered Time-Travel

An old man appears out of the gloom. He leans on his cane, his hairless head in a black stocking cap, his black wool coat zipped to the top to fight the damp cold. Looking like a decrepit longshoreman, he notices you carrying a fancy comic book. . . .

“What’s that you fucking hippie?” Everyone is a “fucking hippie” to him now, his punk attitude pretty much all that is left. It is not an insult; he barely even sees you.  

“Ah, I see--Bicyclopolis by Ken Avidor.” A perverse smile crosses his face. “I remember Avidor. He was a sketching maniac, always drawing shit in his little books, but in a world of Boring Old Farts, he at least made things interesting for a while.” 

“He was no punk though. That bastard used to like Thor.” 

“Weird guy.” He stares at the ground. 

“He used to wear a turquoise sports coat.” 

“Hey, will you let me borrow that,” he says suddenly looking  up, a light in his eyes. “I saw some of this in progress, but the fucker skipped town for Indiana right as he finished it, then I went broke after Trump became president. 

 “Too much money being spent on entrepreneurial self-help crap for the library to carry it.”  

It starts to rain slightly, little radioactive drops. You take pity on the old man, and hand over the copy to him.

“I’m good for it!” he exclaims shaking the book in the air. He crams the book under his coat and disappears into the fog.

  **********************

Cut to scene at Philando Castile Center for the Infirm, where the geriatric homeless can hang out if they can claim medical needs.  

The old man, smelling vaguely of wet dog, checks in with his PCCI card, shuffles into a “lounge,” grabs a stale donut, removes his coat and hat, and lowers himself gently onto a couch. 

He opens the damp copy of Bicyclopolis. Cozy, he reads the whole thing at a leisurely pace, his mind transported back to 2017, the year that Avidor’s book came out and even further back to the days of blogs, trials, and intrigue. He knows that his opinions will never see public print again—he had written a few things back in his day, but his old battles matter little to the mass of disgruntled Millennials and Zers and Deadenders. (He calls them all “fucking hippies” too.) Besides, you couldn’t just post stuff anymore. That ended in the second Trump term.

He raises himself up with his cane, and grabs his stuff. His sleeping left foot tingling, he limps  over to the work station kept for techno-geezers like him, the one  that will take his ancient thumb drive. He gets the drive from the inside pocket of his coat, blows the lint out of it and plugs it in. It takes him awhile to figure out the archaic Mac operating system, but he gets it finally.  

He opens the text editor and puts the damp copy of Bicyclopolis next to him on the table and begins to write, pretending to review the book like it was brand new in 2017,  just for kicks doing what he would have done if he had had the chance back then.

**********************

Ken Avidor’s Bicyclopolis: A Tale of Human-Powered Time-Travel is out.

 I know Avidor, and he is no Dan Quayle. 

For many years he has used his comic art and activism to discuss Ivan Illich, transit cults, environmental issues, bicycling, auto folly among other things. For a time, he even held politicians’ feet to the fire, most notably a notorious 6th district wingbat Minnesota Congress member and a disgraced Minneapolis City Council person. 

To the demented proponents of Personal Rapid Transit, he has been a bête noire, relentlessly pointing out their absurdity. 

We knew that he had thrown all this into his creative mental blender with chunks of his icy sensibility and some Old Crow and was preparing this pungent frappe of a comic.

And here it is.

Using the conceit of time-travel, Bicyclopolis takes us into a future where the shit show of modern life has broken down, leaving a kind of neo-Middle Ages filtered through an apocalyptic SF movie.

Dan Petosky (not Quayle) goes forward in time using the Velochronitron, a creation of his Uncle Fred (who looks a lot like Stillwater Minnesota activist, Karl Bremer, who passed away in 2013). The device allows one to time travel using a bicycle. 

Dan’s path through time leads him briefly into a future Stillwater under siege by “Bachmannite militias.” Fleeing the bombs, Dan goes further into the future to a nightmarish world of an Artic Garbage Gyre, “food” from anaerobic trash dumps, a globe warming out of control, and a post-petroleum lack of energy. 

The Atlantic ocean is impassable because of the Gyre and what Bruce Sterling would call Heavy Weather, an ocean riled constantly by brutal storms. Of course, no one is flying since petroleum based fuels are long since gone. Eventually, weather pokes a hole in the Gyre. . . .   

In this hell, which includes a bunch of human tendencies now come to awful fruition and the resulting warfare in what we call North America, the residents of Bicyclopolis stand strong preserving a sustainable future in a Illichville-like society that produces its own food and has preserved a level of civilization. Actually it looks pretty good.  

The residents of Bicyclopolis, bicyclists, Civil War reenactors--DIYers mostly-- are, of course, hated for it by the warped followers of doomed nostalgia for auto-based culture. My favorite Avidor comic creation, Anger Man, who appeared in the  “Roadkill Bill” strip some years back, doesn’t show up (well maybe), but his spirit imbues the crazies opposed to Bicyclopolis’ sane approach to living on the planet. 

The narrative is all in all quite bleak, with humanity facing its extinction, but a ray of hope, as fantastic as it is, remains. Dan might even have found love.

Comic art is about far more than the narrative alone, of course, and Avidor’s critique of our folly as a society, indeed as a species, is never far from the action while the artwork shines at times with images that are both disturbing and beautiful. 

For Minnesotans, the distraught landscape is easily recognizable—including a destroyed Mall of America. And there are what we now call “Easter Eggs” scattered throughout for global warming, city planning, and transportation nerds, like myself. 

Bicyclopolis might seem to some a utopia. That vision might be better thought of as a necessity. Maybe there will be a “techno fix”, but it sure feels that we have arrived at a majorly fucked up world, the new reality. 

The particulars will be different of course: one could certainly quibble with this book claiming one’s fears (and dreams) are more precise—it seems to be all the rage—or outrage—to speak like one’s pessimism is the most accurate due to one’s superior life experience and brain power. I’ve been guilty of that myself.

But Ken Avidor’s story provides a thought provoking experience in its own right, one where the Do It Yourself spirit provides a glimmer of hope. 

As the suffering hordes of Puerto Rico improvise to make a life out of climate disaster and our country’s moral failure, there are certainly worse things than yearning for something akin to Bicyclopolis, an equitable place that doesn’t crush human spirit, one that doesn’t measure one’s worth by “productivity,” one where human work provides the energy, one where food, good drink, a good tune, and camaraderie are still available.  

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Stopping there, he sadly writes “The End.”

The irony of going back to a past when it felt like there was a possible future makes him feel enervated but foolish now. The old man saves his work with some struggle, fighting the Robert Moses-like technology with the tenacity of a Jane Jacobs. He gets up, leaning even more heavily on his cane. 

The loudspeaker announces that Center will be closing in ten minutes. 

He pulls on his smelly coat and cap and goes out the door into the twilight, nodding at the uniformed woman at the door. 

“Have a good evening sir,” she says. He smirks. 

As the elderly patrons lurch towards the door after him, some delaying as long as they can to avoid the wet chill outside, his thumb drive, still in the old yellowed computer,  flashes its green light, illuminating the book still sitting on the table.