#apologies for the massive gaps in completing days

[rammbles]

DAY #17: 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

I've mentioned before that I haven't seen a lot of live content other than through gifs, so my pool to pick from isn't massive, but I'm going to go with Paul & Richard's last hug/smooch of the NA tour 2022.

(set of gifs for this scene @mrsfitzgerald you are doing god's work)

Like the amount of love is unreal and the tightness of the hug makes me want to sob and the kiss is the gayest fucking thing I've ever seen and Reesh's face tears me apart to my most basic atoms and I can't stand it I can't stand them FUCK brb going to the bathroom to sob and throw up for ten full hours

previous days: 　1.) favorite song 　2.) favorite era 　3.) favorite single 　4.) favorite album 　5.) favorite music video 　6.) favorite member 　7.) favorite lyrics 　8.) favorite b-side/unreleased track 　9.) favorite remix 　10.) favorite live photo(s) 　11.) favorite live video 　12.) favorite "making of" 　13.) favorite picture 　14.) favorite vocals 　15.) favorite work of each instrument 　16.) favorite outfit

[juletheghoul]

soak

a/n: Another fantastic request that sent me clean into the sun. I love all the situations you want Marcus and his girl in, you are all feeding me just as much as I'm feeding you! Please enjoy this un-beta'd, barely edited request. All mistake and errors are mine! please enjoy

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, hand stuff (both female and male receiving), praise kink if you squint, talk of war (I think this could be considered hurt / comfort, since our boy needs a massage), master / slave dynamic (power imbalance) he’s still pretty possessive, Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus - let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2k (😅)

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

The moon was high, owls hooting as the Roman army was returning from another brutal victory. Soldiers entered tents all around, you could hear them and it was with a sinking heart that you waited for him–your general. You wrung your hands, rationalizing that surely he would take longer, he would see to last minute plans, he would have meetings with his Legates, he would take tally of numbers and be the last to seek rest. 

You busied yourself with the water as you waited, boiling it to fill the massive tub he’d been gifted, a tub he’d never use. He saw it as an excess, a waste in times of war but the winces you’d witnessed in days passed spurred you on, urged you to fill it with hot, steamy water and prayed to the Gods that he’d see this in the spirit with which you did it and not as a gross overstep. 

You’d just finished pouring the last, heavy cauldron full into it when the tent flap opened, signifying his arrival. You catch his eye and he frowns at the sight of the full tub, letting out a heavy, annoyed sigh as you approach him cautiously. 

“What is the meaning of this, Girl? I did not command you to do this.” His tone is icy and you can feel the anger, the disappointment in his voice. 

“Apologies Dominus, I know I took a big liberty and I accept any punishment you deem fit, but I have seen how you ache of late. I thought–perhaps incorrectly–that you would do well with a hot soak. I have put the good oils, the salt for your muscles and I would implore you to at least consider it before the water grows too cold.” You bow your head in deference, keeping your eyes on your feet as he stands there, silent. 

He says nothing for a long moment, and you thought the overstep might have been too far, even for him. 

“I will empty the tub and clean it, I beg of you to accept my apologies, Dominus.” You turn, crestfallen at your misstep to begin the process of emptying the tub when he stops you.

“No, forgive my dark mood, Girl. I am weary and you are right in your assessment. My back aches of late. This is probably exactly what I need.” His hand landed on your shoulder, a soft offering of peace. 

“Help me to undress, I will take advantage of the warmth of the water.” he doesn’t smile, but there is a deep weariness on his face and you rush to comply. Once he is completely nude and moving to step into the tub you stop him.

“Dominus—if you would give me just a moment to get most of the mud off of you, we could keep this water clean enough for you to soak.” You rush, bringing his basin and he nods once, watching silently as you dip fresh linen and quickly wipe him down. Once you are done he finally steps in, sinking with a groan to stretch out his legs and lean against the end of it. 

You keep the smile to yourself at the involuntary moan he lets out. 

“I will prepare something for you to eat while you relax, Dominus.” 

“Wait Girl, before all that, I would have you join me. Your healing touch would aid with my aches. Come.” He gestures to the water and you obey, your body responding to both the oasis you’ve cultivated, as well as the promise of his touch. 

He slides forward once you are nude and you slip in behind him. He wastes no time in leaning back into your chest, pulling your legs to bracket his ribs while he sighs into the feel of your hands on his shoulders. The water is perfect, hot enough to almost burn, the sweet smelling steam instantly calming any and all nerves and the reassuring press of him make it hard to stay humble about taking this chance.

The sounds of the water softly lapping mingle with his low sighs when you use the strength in your fingers to work the knots out of his shoulders. His eyes close and you continue your work, moving to the pieces of his back that you can reach, his arms and his sides, your nipples harden at the moan he lets out when you massage his scalp.

“Gods above Girl, I am rethinking this whole campaign.” His hands slide up your shins, slipping softly across your knees before moving back down, a comforting sweep as you focus on cleaning his chest. “I fear I may get too accustomed to this treatment, who would want to leave this to fight a war?” 

You smile to yourself, tilting his head back softly to rinse his hair.

“My heart fills with joy to know you are not angry with me for this Dominus.” You reach for a clean cloth just outside the tub and dip it into the water to scrub at his skin. “It hurt me to see you in pain.” Something about the water, about being wrapped around him gives voice to your feelings.

“I am ashamed at my earlier annoyance, this was very thoughtful, and much needed. I am blessed that you consider me thus.” He moves a little, slipping a little further up so your chin just sits on his shoulder, enough to watch what your hands do and when they slip low to what you can reach of his thighs, you graze his manhood. 

With gentle hands, you cleanse him there, softly slipping across the heft of him before moving lower to hold the weight of his sack in your hands. He groans low when he feels you exploring him, turning his head to where yours sits on his shoulder to press his lips to your temple.

You take it as encouragement and wrap your hands around his cock, preening at the way it grows in your palms. You turn towards his face and press your lips to his, chaste and he reciprocates, breaths humid and mingling while you stroke him under the water. 

He turns to watch your hands move, and you press your kisses to his neck. 

Wordlessly, he reaches down and guides your movements, his big palm covering yours. You let him show you, while your other hand moves to fondle his balls, rolling them and giving them the tiniest squeeze. He lets out a filthy moan before stilling your hands completely and for a moment you fear you may have overstepped again.

“Apologies Dominus—“ he turns, stopping your apologies.

“I would switch places with you now Girl, much as I enjoy your hand, I do not wish to spill into the water.”

You stand at his urging, and he guides you to carefully climb in front of him. No sooner are you settled than his hands slide around to hold onto the weight of your breasts. His lips press against your shoulder as his hands roam, from sliding against your pebbled nipples, down to sweep across the soft skin of your belly and then up to rub at your shoulders much in the same way you had done to him.

It was shockingly welcome, to feel the strength in his fingers working away at your own aches.

“I am to be tending to you, Dominus-“ it comes out as a relaxed sigh as he digs at a particularly sore spot.

“Hush Girl, let me do as I please.” There is no bite in his words, and you smile to yourself as you melt under his touch.

After a while, his touch takes a turn and you feel him reach down to pull your legs up and over his thighs. He dips the tips of his fingers over the lips of your sex, spreading them open lewdly under the water. Your cunt blooms under his ministrations, even submerged he can feel the slip of your arousal coating his fingers as he hones in on the pert little pearl of you. 

“How I miss this little cunt while I’m off fighting, do you know that Girl? Do you know how hard I fight to make my way back to this right here.” He spears his fingers inside, two, thick and full inside of you and you let out a whispery sigh at the feel of it. 

Wordlessly he builds you up, working you open while you lay on his chest, his heartbeat steady and calm under your ear, his thighs firm and strong under your hands. His thumb joins the fray, swirling around your clit and it pulls a louder moan from you, one that makes him cover your mouth with his other hand. 

“Hush Girl, would you have the whole camp hear you moaning for me?” His fingers speed up, giving birth to little waves that die at the edge of the tub. You breathed hard through your nose, heart racing to feel the way he controlled your body, the way his cock pressed hard and hot against your back. You could almost taste the salt as the water dripping from his hand crept into your mouth.

Your legs closed around his hand when you burst for him, ripe as a berry.

“That’s it, didn’t that feel good?” He pulls his hand away from your mouth, turning your face to kiss you while his fingers pumped through your flutters. 

“Yes Dominus, you always make it feel good.” You turn a little in his arms to kiss him harder, to lick into his mouth and despite him not giving you leave, you move to straddle him. “I want to make you feel good now, may I?” You slip against him, your cunt sliding against his cock in the cooling water. 

“Yes Girl, so long as you can keep quiet. I would keep those pretty moans for my ears, and my ear alone.” His hands grab at your ass and you nod while lining him up, sinking onto him with a little gasp.

Wordlessly he pressed his face against your chest, while wrapping his arms around your ribs, the muscles in his arms flexing, slippery and warm.

It’s a soft roll, low tide and a calm ocean the way you fuck him. 

The water, the warmth, his reassuring hold, the sweet smelling scents, the campground full of soldiers separated from you by mere tents alone, all of these things add to the heightening of your senses. Something about the way you’d initiated this whole encounter, a bath he didn’t plan or want is the catalyst for the low moans he breathes against your skin. 

You relish it, you crave it, you need it. Just as he wants the sounds of your pleasure to be his, you want his pleasure to be yours. 

“Give it to me Dominus, please, I desire it, reward me-“ you tilt his face up, almost whispering the words into his mouth as you clench on the downstroke. 

 “It’s yours Girl, take it, it’s all yours—my good, obedient, thoughtful Girl, my favourite Girl, my only Girl—“ he buries his face into the crook of you neck and lets out an almost strangled sound when you feel it. His cock almost swells harder still for a moment before he paints your insides with his seed. 

You clench around him, drawing out his pleasure until he hisses with a low laugh, grabbing at your ass in playful reprimand. 

“You will be the death of me, Girl.” He smiles, tired and satiated as he adorns your neck with kisses, moving lower to take a nipple into his mouth. 

“Shall I prepare your meal now Dominus?” You slick his hair back, moving the tendrils that had fallen into his eyes while he continues his worship of your breasts. He hums around the stiff peak, focused and for a moment you think he might want to wait until he can take you again. 

“Something quick, we are not done yet, and the water grows cold. I would have you on your back next, Girl.” You cannot help but smile as you nod. 

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[hoshigray]

hii love ur works 🫶🏽

can I req brat reader giving toji the WORST attitude? 💗.

*sinister laugh* Why, yes, you can, noonie! When I saw this, the first scenario that came to mind was the reader being another assassin who likes to get on Toji's nerves. So, imma stick with that!! Had to take an all-nighter to finish this up, hehe~ (no fr tho, it's 8:35 in the morning here) Thank you for loving my stuff, and enjoy~~

A/n: posting this bc I'm staling on my Geto fic since my brain has so much it wants to add...sigh. In the meantime, while I'm working on this, I figured I could drop this as an apology for pulling the fic back (~_~;) My apologies, and I hope y'all like this one! Also tysm for 1.7k followers!! Y'all are too kind and sweet, happy to be writing for you~☆ Cw: hard dom! Toji x bratty fem! reader - you and Toji are assassins on a mission together - explicit content; minors DNI - implied age gap (the reader is at least in their 20s; Toji in his mid-30s or approaching 40s, up to you) - fingering (f! receiving) - cunnilingus - sexual acts in a public place - degradation (brat, crybaby, slut, whore) - Daddy kink - reader talking smack, but Toji teaches you a lesson - tiny praise - pussydrunk! Toji - pet names (baby, doll, princess) - ends with penetration, but mostly Toji eating you out - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching, pushing, and sucking) - mentions of blood. Wc: 1.8k

You recently joined the hitmen field not too long ago. Still young and new to the workforce, it wasn't the first place you figured to enter for some quick cash. But with your astute skills and abilities, no other occupation best suited you. Besides, it wasn't long before people looked past your recent addition and saw what you were made of. Not only were you good at your job, but you were climbing the ranks, swifting past your inferior subordinates.

It's nothing new, though. You were always good at what you do, better than others at what you do. Doing everything perfectly and effortlessly, that was your style. And everybody knew that.

Everybody but a particular individual. A specific man who always overshadowed you. An older man who snatched your attention the first moment he looked your way, the scar on his lip rooted up with the twinge of his lips.

"Rookies lookin' real cute these days, huh, doll?" were his first words to you. And from that day on, you did what you could to get close to him. Even if that meant irritating him.

From taking his missions to acting as a complete thorn in his side, you do whatever it takes to get Toji's attention. Especially his silent pissed off expressions, which are your favorite to see. And don't let your handler tell you that you two would be on a mission together because the teasing would be endless for the poor, experienced hitman.

Just like today, when you two are deployed to kill an old geezer and his goons for a massive sum of money, Toji goes to one side of the old warehouse to thin out the number of bodyguards and heads straight to the target's den, leaving you to the rest. But imagine his surprise when he sees the old man already dead on the chair at his desk, a stiletto pierced right through his neck, evident of his demise as a stream of crimson staining his yellow dress shirt.

And Toji notices a note left on the weapon, the familiar handwriting in pink with a kiss mark already tells him who wrote it. "Gotta be quicker than that, Grandpa ~" is what he reads in your charming voice, and it vexes him knowing you beat him to the punch.

He sees you leaning on a pallet rack when he returns to the warehouse, and you smile when you turn to him. "Well, that was fast," you play coy, stretching when standing straight up. "Took care of those punks like five minutes ago, figured I'd wait on you."

"I got your note." He wastes no time. He's so hot when he does that.

"Oh? Did ya like it~?" Your hand swiftly grabs something that came dangerously close to your temple — your stiletto. It was thrown with the knowledge that you would catch it. So serious, huh.

"Ya know, for someone callin' me a 'grandpa,' you sure act like a damn kid leavin' y'r toys everywhere."

You chuckle at his complaint. "Awww, did I hurt your big boy feelings with my little words?" You see his green eyes watch your every move as you walk up close to him. "Sorry~, not my fault you were too slow to get the final kill."

Toji raises a brow. "How'd ya get to him before me?"

You shrug with a cheeky grin. "Assassins don't tell their secrets, especially when your old head couldn't get it."

It's his turn to chortle. "Oh yeah? Ya think y'r too fast for me?"

"I wouldn't say that, just that you're too slow for me," your hands go up defensively when he takes a step forward, and you try hard to not get turned on by his well-built physique displayed by the shirt that does a terrible job hiding his features. "As a matter of fact, I bet you're slow at other things."

He takes another step forward, and before you register his next move, he already has you pinned to the pallet rack you once leaned against. His smirk grows broader while your eyes widen at the sudden shifting. "Was that too slow fr' you, princess?"

No, absolutely not. That's what you would want to say to him, his tall figure engulfing you under his presence. But you didn't want to let off that easily, your hand finding the crotch of his pants. When verdant eyes shut to the feeling of your fingers brushing against his bulge, you take the chance to say more. "Oh, that was totally too slow for me, geezer. Such a shame; I thought you'd be a lot more fun. But guess I'll have to go on to the next person who could do a better job."

"Mmm, don't start somethin' y'r not ready for, brat." His gruff voice dials to a whisper, your ears replaying the tone, making the throbbing sensation between your legs prosper. You can feel his erection, even with his pants blocking the view. "Good luck findin' someone who'd shut that pretty mouth of y'rs better than I do."

You giggle after grabbing onto his erect cock, forcing the older man to hiss and his face coming down to your level. You whisper to his ear. "And what makes you think a dumb, old, brute-for-brains like you could satisfy me? I fail to see what you're capable of, grandpa." Those were the words you chose to entice the man under your spell.

But what you really failed to see was the predicament you've gotten yourself in.

Lying on a pallet with your back, your pretty bottoms and panties now discarded to the dirty floor, you scream out to the empty warehouse. Tears and drool escape from your face, and the quiver in your legs is evidence of your body going through the absolute most right now. "Haaahh! Ahhhh!! T-Tojiii, Toji, please!! I'm—Hoooohh!!" You grab tufts of raven hair that are stationed between your legs.

The older man holds your legs up with one hand, the other nestled between your slick-coated folds as his middle and forefinger push in and out of your cunt. His tongue licks furiously on your clitoris, your cries evident of the abuse on your tender bud and vulva.

Toji removes the wet muscle and moves his fingers go an instantaneous pace, the tips of his digits scraping your walls resulting in more tears falling off your face without fail. He snickers, "Look at you; all that screamin' and hollerin' like a damn whore have you forgetting simple rules." His thumb finds your clit, pushing down on it every time his fingers are propelled inside. "What did I tell you to call me, brat?"

The unforgiving rhythm of his hand on your bare vulva has you seeing stars and choking on your spit. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy!! I didn't mean to make you mad at me!"

"You sure 'bout that?" His condescending tone matched the devilish twinge of his scarred lips. The digits doing a 'come hither' motion that has your body jerking nowhere, your legs still restrained by his firm arm pushing them to your stomach. "My 'big boy feelings' were crushed with y'r little comments, so here I am gettin' the payback I need. Was acting all high and mighty until I got my mouth on ya."

"But I said—Mmmph!! I'm sorry!" You wail out, your face hot with embarrassment and excitement. "And I already came—Oh fuck...C-Came three times!!"

"You called me names four times, so I expect you to cum one more time, you fuckin' crybaby." He replies coldly, your tears and pleas on deaf ears. "Heh, if I knew havin' my fingers in you like this would have you behavin', I woulda done it earlier. Grippin' on my 'em like a damn slut."

His fingers go faster with no smooth transition as his mouth returns to your soft button, your screams erupting from the back of your exhausted throat. Even with your voice filling the scene, you can only listen to the raunchy noises of the commotion between your thighs. It's enough for you to wish your ears burn at such lewd sounds, and your head pounding worsens the state of your already mushy brain. This is what you wanted all this time — to have the man you've been infatuated with give you the attention to so dearly strived and poked for. However, the intensity of it all was nowhere near what you had expected.

"Nnnmm!! Daddyyy," the title slurred from your mouth feels hot to the tongue, but it's the only way to address him before your punishment intensifies. You peer down to see his black hair come up, fierce emerald eyes taking in your expressions. "It's coming, gonna cum again!!"

"Yeah? Wanna come on my fingers again?" He chortles when you rapidly nod at him, pathetically desperate for your release. "Fine, cum on Daddy's fingers like the slut you are." He moves his hands to the back of your thighs and has his tongue slowly glide up your soapy chasm, tasting your wetness until he reaches your clitoris and attacks the bud more. Circling around and sucking on your precious nub prompts your orgasm to climb up, and it hits you hard when his teeth and tongue grind on your clit.

With final moans of pleasure, you experience your finish with the harsh treatment of Toji's mouth, hands purchasing his hair for faux stability. Your legs tremble with curled toes, and your body jolts with the shocks. And Toji doesn't stop until he licks the slit clean of your essence, slurping up your sensitive folds until his thirst has quenched. All you can do is submit and let him have his way with you, sucking up your fluids from your cunt to the mess of your inner thighs.

"Mmmm, fucking Christ, Y/n," you hear his mumbled curse below. "Taste so fuckin' good, baby..."

Your body soon calms down from the climax, trying to steady your breathing with even breaths. And Toji finally finishes drinking your wetness, drawing his head up to reveal his lips wet with your come, licking it and his fingers. "Bet that wasn't slow fr' ya, huh."

You meekly nod your head. "And I bet nobody's gonna make you shut you up like that, huh?" You nod again.

The smirk on his face scares you, especially when he straightens up to show his erect dick still hard and ready to be free from the tented pants. And when his cock springs out, your sweaty body runs cold immediately.

"Good," he says while bringing you close to him, arranging his cock to your wet entrance. "But we ain't done here." Complaints and pleas aren't able to enter the air because you just watch the tip of his cock bully through the lips of your chasm and enter inside you with ease. He gradually pushes his entire length into you, getting full with every inch as his girth intrudes between your tight, smooth walls.

"Keep up wit' me, baby," his eyes hone in on you, gauging your reactions before he starts moving his hips relentlessly. "because I'm about to show you what I'm really capable of."

[fortheb0ys]

BOTTOM DOM JOHN PRICE X TOP SUB MALE READER

☆Daddy, I just wanna be your bitch!☆

I know I like to write characters being absolutely cock drunk and fucked stupid but my biggest kink is being treated like I'm fucking stupid dog♡

CW: dumbification (reader), pet play, pet names (daddy & puppy) USED ALOT, age-gap, crying during sex, face slapping, reader is inexperienced in sex NOT PROOFREAD AND KINDA RUSHED AT THE END

FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI

I'm just imaging Price having to bark orders at you all day just to do the same in bed. You're brain goes absolutely empty and Price has to tell you how to do EVERYTHING. He's slightly displeased with himself for failing for such a young and inexperienced man but his love for you outweighs it.

You're clumsy as you try to finger him open. Price gets so frustrated that he offers to do it himself but you're so eager to please that you insist. You take what feels like forever to work him open, overestimating him in the process. Being feed up, Price would take matters into his own hands. He'd sit with all his weight on your chest and his back facing you, taking the breath from your lungs, as he fingers himself open.

His ass is so close to your face but Price orders you to keep your hands away. You grip tightly at his thighs, squeezing and scratching, as you whimper like a kicked puppy.

"Puppy, calm down. Daddy, trying to show you how it's done."

Price would wrap his hand around your dick as he multi-tasks between jerking you and fingering himself open. Much like the rest of your body, your cock is massive. Price's mouth waters at the thought of being stretched full around it but training you to use it was the difficult part. Such a monster of a cock but you were too stupid on how to use it.

Once Price was ready, he sank on your cock. The stretch was deliciously painful. Before he was even remotely close to being ready to move, you began bucking your hips up. He lets out a pained moan and tells to stop. His orders fall on deaf ears as you try to chase your own pleasure, completely forgetting about Price. Unsure of how to stop you, Price lands a hard slap across your left cheek.

Tears prick your eyes as you immediately stop snd bring a hand to your now red cheek. Before Price could apologize he feels you twitch inside him.

"Awww does my sweet boy like it a little rough? Does puppy like it when daddy hurts him?" Price says sweetly, his voice having an undertone of mockery.

All that left you throat was another whimper as you nod. Price felt another twitch inside his tight walls.

"Daddy, please you feel so good." More tears threaten to leave your eyes. Price looks into your eyes, a pathetic look adorns your face. The sight was amusing. You laying there, your hips wiggling ever so slightly and tears in your eyes. Price felt so good around you. His walls velvet soft. He was really teaching you patience.

"Daddy knows but you need to behave and stay still. You feel a lot bigger than you look and you're a big boy, puppy." Price cards his fingers through your hair to calm you down.

You whine as try stay impossibility still to please Price. Small huffs of impatience and both your ragged breathing was the only noise in the room.

Once Price started bouncing, what felt like an electric shock riddled your body. Like taking a hit of drugs, a high over takes washes over you.

His strong legs flex as he works himself on your cock. You lift your hips to meet him halfway with needy thrusts. His moans drive you deeper into madness. His pupils are blown with lust and you know yours are the same. A predator's smile across his face.

"Harder, puppy. I like it just as rough as you."

Without second thought and bruising strength, you grip his hips and slam into him. Price lets outs a small grunt. A slight blush dusts his face. He got want he wanted.

His movements never falter as your pace picks up. A challenging look appears in his eyes. His walls contract around you. You've never felt something as wonderful as being inside your captain, the way your cock dragged through him. He looked so good doing it. Like you were made to be him inside him.

His tits bounced along were him. Price's nipples were just as eye catching as he was. Pink and erect. Standing out from his hairy chest. The need to pinch , suck or just have your hands all over them became too strong. Your hands quickly found themselves groping at them.

Price let's out a grunt and your hands immediately pull away thinking you had done something without his permission.

"Go on, puppy. I'll let ya."

Sitting up, you go to work on his chest. Your lips sucks at one nipples as your fingers pinch at another. This encouraged you to pound harder into him. You loved the way his hair felt against your clean shaven face.

Price tries to keep his composure but finds it hard when your lapping at his chest as well as pounding hard into him. On top of that his his legs were beginning to hurt. He was so close. The knot in his stomach grew with each passing second. It was evident that you were as well. Your whimpers grew louder.

His moans were your favorite part. Breathy yet so deep, they rattled your bones.

"You close, doll?" Price asks while trying to get your attention off his chest by petting your messy hair down.

Your eyes are now on Price's face, but it's clear you didn't understand him. Eyes unfocused, you shake your head. Not to give him an answer but to ckear your sex fogged mind. It takes a prolonged moment for your brain to catch up to your mouth. You didn't trust that if you were to open it, that a moan wouldn't escape your lips.

"Yeah. R-really close." You managed to only whisper out.

A few more thrusts and you finished inside him. Price coming untouched, cum covering his hairy chest. You both lay panting, trying to catch your breath. Your forehead rests against Price's chest. His heartbeat rings loudly in your ears.

Once the high slightly settles, you look up to his face. God, was he so beautiful.

The way Price's mouth was slightly open. His tongue touched the back of his teeth, slipping to past his lips. The rise and off of his chest.

Just thinking how someone so perfect as your captain could love someone like you. A young kid, early into your military career and a decorated solider.

Did he love you? Could he love you the same way you did to him? The way he was your breath in your lungs, unable to live without.

You once again begin to tear up. This time to fall down your cheeks. Why you were such a crybaby after sex and not otherwise was something you could never get the answers for?

"Baby, Y/N? What wrong?" Price stopped moving and settled his weight on your pelvis. He dropped the pet names, was he angry? His voice was still smooth like honey. There was no malicious. Just love.

"Daddy, I'm sorry. I'm so s-sorry. Love you. L-Love so much."

You pull him down till your head is buried into his neck. Sobbing as you try to catch your breath. Price's hand finds it's place on the side of your head, and a thumb rubs gently over your ear.

"It's okay, puppy. You know, daddy loves you?" He knew how emotionally unstable you could be. Doubting every step you took without guidance. He promised that was something he'd never take advantage of.

Your tears stop after a few minutes of crying. Price's gentle touch easing your worries. You look up at him with bright eyes, like tears had never touched them and smile. You give him a sweet peck on the cheek.

"Love you."

"You were such a good boy, but you need more training."

You frantically nod. There was anything you would want more in the entire world than to be your captain's good puppy.

"Daddy's gonna have ta think of a punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, daddy."

As your punishment, Price would put you on a leash a parade you around naked, showing off the numerous bite marks, scratches and hickies. Your cock painfully hard and dripping precum, a vibrating cock ring tightens painfully around it. You're turned on by the humiliation and the fact that everyone knows you're Price's bitch. Whimpers escape your throat as you see soliders eye you up and down. A sharp tug on your leash from Price reminded you to keep your mouth shut.

As a reward for accepting your punishment well, Price will ride you in his office will the door wide open letting people see how much of a well-trained dog you are. Numerous people stop. Some for a moment to look at the source of moans and grunts. Others stop and jerk off at such a sinful sight, just hoping to get the chance to be able to get impale on your dick.

[ayeforscotland]

I'm not a super dedicated gamer these days, but I loved Kerbal Space Program (a game that was more a labour of love than a commercial project) and was super hyped for the much delayed KSP2. When I saw it was releasing as early access (years late) I worried for its hopes of ever seeing completion and held off buying, now after all the other shananigans the entire team have been let go in yet another mass lay-off in the gaming industry. I feel like, a few notable exceptions aside, the big-budget gaming sector has been failing to deliver real quality games for a long time now, with lower-budget indie games more often coming up with gold from much simpler foundations. It seems almost as though developers are being pushed to shoot for unachievably epic games and releasing buggy messes, or vast but hollow worlds when the publishers get impatient or the money runs out. Is there any grain of truth in my feeling that bankrollers' expectations for games is leading to more games failing to live up to the hype as projects spiral out of control and over budget? Would big studios benefit from learning from indie devs and aiming to really nail down a simpler scope but on a scale beyond what the indies can achieve?

Industry-wise there’s a couple of things at play. And apologies for the length of this.

During the pandemic, there was a shitload of investment into the gaming industry as everyone was at home and many started playing games for the first time, so venture capital firms piled money in.

They were looking for a return on their investment, not really aiming to cultivate long-term studio success.

This puts pressure on the studio to get the game out the door quickly. That month or two of QA before launch just becomes overhead while you have a product that could be selling right now.

Chance to earn even more money for shareholders and execs? Welcome to microtransaction hell.

So that’s one side of it, investors/shareholders/execs forcing decisions that make games worse.

Next bit is partly influenced by the shareholder side of things but also a huge cultural side too. Lots of studios complete a project and then layoff staff because the next game isn’t ready to start being developed yet OR layoff staff because they don’t want to pay them OR staff leave to go and do something else (often due to lack of pay, lack of promotion etc)

And what this leads to is a *massive* corporate knowledge gap. People take their skills and knowledge and create voids. Voids that need to be filled by senior staff, which is why big AAA studios are always hiring seniors, and rarely hiring juniors. So all the seniors job-hop from studio to studio and there’s no new skill set being cultivated by new industry talent.

In my experience, these huge studios are also incredibly siloed. It’s something that impacts most industries, siloed teams lead to sluggish development and decision-making.

I think the games industry walks an incredibly fine line between being a creative endeavour and being a tech business. Process management methodologies honestly seem quite alien to the games industry, most of the time to its detriment.

It honestly wouldn’t be that hard to implement but Production as a discipline within games seems to be relegated to ‘staring at JIRA’ particularly in larger studios.

Could write forever about this to be honest.

Worth saying that indie studios also have their own issues. Almost everything is a scramble, and the search for publisher funding is a nightmare.

[oh-my-damn]

Hi Mandy!

I hope you see and answer this because I’m just curious. Why is majority of everyone bothered by who Chris married? Like he’s not part of our lives, he doesn’t even know of our existence. Why is anyone taking this so personal??? Like I get the fame and love he has but these people are taking it to a very intimate and personal level that it never should be. So what if the girl he married isn’t who we thought he’d marry? It’s his life, not ours. Why should anyone be bothered by it? It’s literally not affecting any one of us at all. I’m so so curious, I really would like to know your opinion/thoughts & your followers/mutuals/other anons if they’d like to chime in.

Thanks, have a great day! :)

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CxHFi5XAMe8/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA%3D%3D

The reason we're angry:

A lot of people followed and supported him because of how outspoken he was and his political views. Dating someone who has done things like this and who calls these people her "soulmate" is very concerning. Then to top it off, said person (Justin, the person she has called her soulmate) is often invited to gatherings and have stayed at multiple of Chris' houses. So obviously him and Chris are also friends.

There was also a massive clean-up job of AB's instagram right at the beginning of them seeing each other. Word is they had to delete so much because of her controversial posts and tweets. There are also blinds about her being anti-semitic on the Warrior Nun set.

She is still friends with all of these people, by the way. They were probably even invited to the wedding.

There has never been an official apology for any of this, in fact, its never even been addressed. The closest we've come is the one I've put on here from Justin which is clearly not genuine at all.

When all of this was first uncovered back in December, instead of addressing the rumors, Alba Baptista posted a video of herself undressing in the shower to her instagram story and then promptly deactivated for 3 months. She came back in March and addressed nothing. But she did delete all comments regarding this and continues to do so, as far as I'm aware. She leaves up the ones about Chris being a pedo for dating her, though.

Then there's also the matter of the age-gap. The dynamic is obviously concerning, anyone with just a bit of insight into these things can see that. He followed her on instagram and most likely pursued her. That was when she was 23 and he was 39. It was also while she was posting pictures of her from shoots completely naked except for wearing a diaper, for example. She is from a foreign country and is not established in her career. He is a mega-star from the US and 16 years her senior. She is moving to Boston on his turf, and most of their relationship has been spent on his turf, if the pictures and videos he posted are anything to go by.

And that's without even mentioning her looks, which makes her look much younger than she already is. The entire thing screams "red flag", and it's on both sides in my opinion.

So all in all, there are a lot of reasons people do not support this union.

And I think that's rightfully so.

[del-stars]

Tell me about xenodora pookie im all ears

apologies this took me several days to mull over but okay let's TALK

age gap xendora mmmmm yes. xeno is older, and as previously established he is odd. he's a massive narcissist who thinks he is intellectually above every person that he meets. this makes him almost completely isolated within the pureblood community - not only is he unbearable to talk to because of how condescending he can be, his eccentric sense of style and preference for tangents on sheer nonsense make him a pariah. if you get sat next to him at dinner you're going to be listening to him rant about the zodiac for two hours, and if you dare suggest you don't believe, he'll lecture about the failure of mainstream education.

pandora, from the moment she is born, is spoiled rotten. she is infamously poorly behaved, making her difficult to socialise with other purebloods. after all, pandora's main purpose is to marry well and carry on another pureblood name, but she detests the idea of not being able to marry who she chooses. she is extremely childish and becomes known for spitting on or pulling the hair of suitors. by the time she's leaving hogwarts, she's horrified half the eligible pureblood men, and the other half refuse to be in a room with her.

enter xeno. these two match each other's freak immediately. i really think they're immediately enamored with each other: xeno because he sees a sort of fairylike whimsy in pandora's disposition, and pandora because she adores xeno's rejection of everything conventional. she can hang off of chairs and spit in drinks and throw her tantrums around him: he doesn't care. he finds it endearing. pandora, because of her situation, very much manipulates xeno into marrying her, which she feels no remorse for. xeno likes to believe they have a natural power dynamic, in part due to their age difference but also largely due to his narcissism; however, pandora can completely control him with a bat of her eyelashes.

they are that couple that is WEIRD. they spiral off into isolation together pretty much immediately. their conversations are unintelligible. xeno thinks pandora is the only one who can see into his mind, and so he shares all of his theories of the universe and make-believe creatures. pandora is just happy to be there, with someone who will allow her to act however she wants and provide the lifestyle she desires.

slightly irrelevant sidenote: xeno knows no concept of gender. completely ethereal, outfit options are either a long flowing white gown or a full suit of armor. pandora is unfazed by this

[domesticadventures]

i've decided once again not to respond to my former boss's insane emails, though before i deleted this new one i did forward it to some of the other folks at the firm who used to work with her as well, and it's unsurprising but still gratifying to hear them echo my own sentiments, which are basically that her email was incredibly arrogant and gives the impression that she still completely lacks any sense of self-awareness and over the past 5 years has not managed to look inward literally at all lol.

the first paragraph of her most recent missive was her apologizing but gave the impression that she didn't understand exactly what she was apologizing for. like she clearly understands i'm angry with her but still doesn't seem to understand why i'm angry. and like yeah there are the various things she did that one could (and which i did) find morally/ideologically repugnant, as i touched on here, but if i'm being honest with myself, what was actually more upsetting were the more mundane things she did that just affected me personally, as i alluded to here.

like the stuff with my sister - i believe in the absolute right to abortion despite my personal offense at her saying to me, a person whose sister has downs, that she would have aborted a kid simply because they had downs, but what actually made me so angry that i was shaking was her confident statement to a coworker that i just "didn't understand about the loss of expectations" despite the gap between expectations and reality being a pretty significant source of strife in my family. the moment that i describe in this post - the one where i sat on my mom's lap and cried and begged her not to leave - remains one of my clearest memories from that time, more than 25 years later.

and then of course just the daily annoyances that came with working with her. i remember in the last couple years, we would meet as we always had to go over her cases and i would wind up having to repeat things, no joke, sometimes 4 times because she was distracted playing on her phone. and it's not that she was doing anything important - she was like, scrolling fucking facebook and instagram. so one time i called her out on it, and she said something to the effect of "if you're going to be like that, i have other things i can be doing," which was of course fucking stupid because i was out-billing her at like a 2:1 ratio at the time, what did she have to be doing that was more important than going over her cases so i could keep her whole stupid practice running? anyway. she subsequently promised to be better about it and then almost immediately broke that promise and then acted like i was being unreasonable when i got annoyed about it. her promises are literally not worth the breath it takes to speak them lol.

or even like, there was one day where i was busting my ass because it was the biggest deadline day of the month for the type of law she was practicing at that point, and while i was frantically trying to get everything done in time, she was sitting in her office with her spouse loudly making vacation plans.

and the rest of the email was like - i mean it's the same shit it's always been, which is her being unable to view other people through any lens other than that of what they can do for her. she's sorry if she hurt me! she wants so badly to work with me again! she misses my wit and my good work! she wants to have a relationship with me again whether personal or professional! love and light but my life has gotten massively better since i moved halfway across the country and broke off all contact with her lol.

anyway. it's weird because in reading her recent email, which also included some personal updates, i was reminded that i didn't always feel this way about her. i mean, i know that at one point i loved her - it's documented in my posts on this very blog - but whatever affection i felt towards her has been so layered over with [gestures] everything else that at this point i can no longer touch it. nowadays i only know what it feels like to be alternately angry with / disappointed in / sad for her. the last one is more recent and has come as somewhat of a surprise. i guess it's just that it seems like being her must be exhausting (she always reminds me of the ending of gone girl - "every morning you have to wake up and be you"). i do genuinely hope, in spite of all prior evidence and experience, that she someday manages to change for the better. i just don't plan to be a part of that process, lol.

[rederiswrites]

Hi, I've only recently started following you so apologies if you've talked about this before or I'm misinterpreting, but did you say in your recent health post that you have me/cfs and have actually improved past being bedbound? I ask because my partner has had me/cfs for over a decade and despite having very good doctor luck and trying out all sorts of community tips, the best we can seem to hope for is stabilization through extreme rest/inactivity; improvement sounds fairly extraordinary. If you have even a direction to point us to for options that'd be awesome, thank you!

Wow, okay. This feels like a big responsibility, in a way! But I really want to help any way I can.

First, my official diagnosis is fibromyalgia, but in a way, this is because that's the diagnosis I asked my doctor about, and nothing more scientific than that! I do also fit all the diagnostics for Chronic Fatigue, as do many with fibromyalgia. Increasingly, people are beginning to suspect that these and other syndromes are related, if not quite the same thing. In all cases, it's sort of a diagnosis of exclusion--that is, they can't find anything wrong with you mechanically. There's very little a doctor can "fix". My hip doesn't hurt right now because of injury. It's not injured.

Yes, I've had weeks and months when I could only be out of bed/recliner for a few minutes at a time, when standing up made me dizzy or created heart arrhythmias that were hugely uncomfortable and made me have coughing spells, tingling and numbness, etc. I had massive muscle weakness, crippling fatigue, constant headaches, constant pain that moved between "continuous physical and mental drain" and "totally debilitating; can't even think". This fluctuated for me, so for example my health is almost always terrible for some portion of the winter months of January, February, and March, and then eases up a bit for late spring.

Gonna create a break because there is no way to talk about this in quick soundbites without distorting things horribly.

I've done a lot of things over the years that would help a lot at first and then only a little over the longer span--removing gluten from my diet was the first big "breakthrough", and after my diagnosis I tried a couple of drugs. Duloxetene was miraculous in its effect, but I barely slept a couple of hours a night and finally had to give up when I started being just completely unhinged from fatigue. Gabapentin was great for the first few weeks, and now helps...some. It's hard to say exactly how much, because the only times I've gone off it have been because of gaps in medication coverage, which never lasted past the "wow going cold turkey is fucking terrible" period.

This past February, my best friend, who had been urging me to try the keto diet, bought me a (rather expensive!) bottle of BHB powder, which is a synthetic form of one of the ketone bodies your body produces for energy when you starve it of glucose (this is what ketosis is. You starve your body of glucose until it starts breaking down fat for energy creation). So I said, fine, I'll try keto for a month. I can do most anything for a month! I removed all carbs from my diet and started taking the BHB powder once or twice a day.

The results were huge and instant. Keto was a huge pain in the ass, because while there are still a lot of great things you can eat--nuts, eggs, meat, berries, pretty much any veggie that isn't a root crop--most of the things most of us eat daily rely partly or entirely on starch and grain. But I kept it up because I suddenly had far, far more energy and my pain and inflammation went way down.

I don't think keto is THE solution, though. I do think that trying it for a month is something a lot of people might benefit from, but I hate is as a lifelong diet. I am currently eating low carb, but considerably more fruit and root veggies than you can eat and still be in ketosis. But I was keto for eight months. What I think happened was that the keto diet lowered my inflammation levels a ton, which was why I tried it--the research that suggested it had this effect. Combine that with the BHB, which gave my body an energy source that bypassed whatever was wrong with my glucose metabolism processes, and I got a big leg up.

As with the other things I'd tried, the huge gains eventually leveled out. But they gave me two things--breathing room, and hope. You know, I think, how hard it is to have hope. You get so you're not sure you should even try! You think, maybe hope is causing me more pain. Maybe I should be focused on grieving and acceptance. But these moments in time, however brief, when my body functioned as it should and things were OK really drove home to me that somewhere in me, there was a body that was actually perfectly capable of normal function! If I can take a stupid little pill and suddenly be fine, even for a little bit, then there's a way!!

So I used that breathing room to dig deeper into the research. And eventually I encountered people who said that had recovered from these conditions. That they'd gotten better, and now functioned as normal, healthy people--even athletes. And of course I resisted that information, for reasons I probably don't have to explain to you. The doctors all say there's no cure. Hoping for a cure is exhausting. And if there's a cure--well, that comes loaded with a lot of anger! All this time wasted, all these doctors who couldn't do shit, all the suffering...what if it was avoidable?! It's a lot to work through.

But there were a lot of these stories, once I started finding them. Raelan Agle on Youtube is a pretty good place to start, and once you're there, you'll start seeing other people in the sidebar. And these people all used different paths to wellness, many of which sound absolutely ridiculous and woo woo at first! And yet here were a lot of people from all over, many of whom weren't selling anything, saying they got better.

But there were threads that were common to many of them. Diet was common, although which specific diet didn't seem to matter so much as cutting out junk and eating nutrient rich food. Exercise mattered but was rarely the first step. Medicines and supplements were almost never big players, even though everyone tries them. But mental changes were a huge thing for many if not most people. How they conceptualize and describe these changes varies a lot, but the themes of calming our sympathetic nervous system, addressing our fears, visualizing a life for ourselves where we're healthy, and most importantly believing that we can be that person, came up a lot.

I don't know what will work for other people. For me, diet was an early key, but I think learning to relax, convincing my nervous system that I'm really okay, and doing work on that has been the most lasting gain. And once I believed I could be better, it was easier to make a lot of the structural changes that we're already told will help--get a little movement in each day. Get some sunlight. Try to have a regular sleep schedule. Eat well. Stay hydrated. Once I knew that all these things might lead not just to "slightly less awful" but maybe something actually good, I was vastly more motivated to work on them.

I don't know if your partner can recover. But I know that people do. So as much as hope is painful, I suggest you keep looking, and I hope for the very best for you.

[umbry-fic]

With Love (3)

Summary:

Over a thousand miles of distance and letter after heartfelt letter, Colette learns to love.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia

Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving

Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving

Rating: T

Chapter: 3 of 3 (Prev)

Word Count: 1950

Mirror Link: AO3

Original Post Date: 15/06/2024

Chapter Title:And Thereafter

Notes:

Happy Colloyd Day! This chapter features the wedding (though it is the shortest chapter oops.) Colette's wedding outfit is inspired by Kanade's trained card from last year's prsk wedding event. (I'm sorry for being so terrible at describing clothes D:)

~~~

“Oh, I’m so excited!” Colette was practically bouncing on her feet, unable to contain herself. The endless energy running up and down her spine had made her accidentally release her wings a few times, making the other girls giggle as their visions were momentarily flooded with blinding pink light, before she caught herself and quickly retracted them, yelling a hurried apology. She was thankful that her dress wasn’t anything complicated that would get ruined with barely any movement on her part. She’d never have survived spending hours in a dress like that, more likely to trip over the end of it and shatter something important.

Raine had thankfully gotten the message, and they had managed to pick out something simple that only covered her knees with a minimal amount of stress required to put it on. White, of course. It revealed her shoulders, held up by straps around her upper arm and her neck, criss-crossing her back, with cute little ribbons around her waist. It felt like something a dainty elf princess in a fairytale may have won on a daily basis. Her hair, having grown out to the middle of her back, had been the perfect length for Presea to braid while humming a cheerful tune, Sheena carefully threading the stems of forget-me-nots into the golden strands. Her forget-me-not earrings dangled from her ears, the ring Lloyd had gifted her hung around her neck, proudly displayed to the world. It had certainly raised multiple curious eyebrows from the villagers who had noticed it, though most had the good sense not to say anything.

Lloyd didn’t even attempt to get her to calm down, only took her hand while grinning wildly himself. He was handsome in a black suit Zelos had tailor-made for him, his unruly hair finally tamed. She hadn't been there personally to see the Wilder siblings descend on him with a comb and enough determination to fill the sky, as one had to possess to properly deal with Lloyd's hair, only heard second-hand tales from a snickering Genis describing Seles' rather despondent observation that Lloyd must have never combed his hair in his entire life.

“This is amazing,” he breathed, gaze wandering over his surroundings as he drank it all in.

The fruits of months of non-stop effort were displayed around them. The entire ceremony was being held in a forest clearing with a river bubbling merrily behind it. It had completely transformed overnight, unrecognisable as one of the many locations that she, Genis and Lloyd had spent hours exploring until grass stains littered their clothes and their faces had hurt from smiling. Comfortable seats were laid out neatly across the grass, dew still clinging to the individual blades. The decorations consisted of wooden sculptures that reached her waist, intricate details captured perfectly at an impressive scale in a joint effort by Presea and Lloyd. A long table held an assortment of baked goods and a massive cake topped with tiny, adorable versions of her and Lloyd, something Genis and Regal had tackled together while Zelos had valiantly kept Raine out of the kitchen. There was a gap between the rows of chairs, leading up to an arch decorated with what seemed like an explosion of forget-me-nots, the pale blue practically consuming the white. Sheena had spent hours on that, her nimble fingers carefully putting everything into place so nothing would fall out. And tiny, glowing balls of light flitted about, a product of a proud Raine whose fine mastery of light magic had not weakened over the years. They reminded Colette of the elemental fairies from stories, making the entire place take on the magical atmosphere of an elfin forest, resembling a wonderland straight out of the fairytales.

Everyone had pitched in and given their all to make this as perfect as possible, and she couldn't be prouder to call them her friends. Something she had once told herself was nothing more than an impossible dream was now becoming reality before her very eyes.

All in all, it was a small ceremony. The guests, already seated, consisted of barely two dozen people, all barefoot as they enjoyed the feel of the soft grass against their feet, flower crowns courtesy of Genis resting lopsided on their heads. Their closest companions filled up the front row, many of them seemingly about to tear up. Behind them, Dirk had a proud smile on his face, and her father waved, eyes sparkling with joy.

A small ceremony suited her just fine. She had no desire to share her love with the whole world and invite yet more scrutiny upon it. Those she had invited didn’t necessarily understand the intricacies of her relationship with Lloyd, but they had never derided it, and that was good enough for her.

Zelos cleared his throat from where he stood below the arch, giving them a small wave to signal that he was ready. Squeezing her hand, Lloyd began to walk down the imaginary carpet, her feet naturally falling into step next to his. Their gazes never left each other, blue into brown, seeing the years and years they'd known each other and the countless events they'd weathered together. Each of them was only who they were today because of the other, the respective tapestries of their lives deeply interwoven since the day they had met and begun to write their story together. The cheers of those they trusted more than anyone in the world propelled them at their heels, softly wrapping them in a warm bubble that would never pop.

The vows were read perfectly, in a steady voice that didn't trip over the words - Zelos must have done this thousands of times before, but there was a gentleness to his voice that was impossible to miss as he sounded out the familiar words. She and Lloyd recited their parts, their smiles only growing as they closed the distance between them, leaning closer and closer.

In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, I will love and cherish you, until parted by death.

“You may now kiss…” Zelos came to an abrupt stop, reconsidering his words as a humorous smile danced across his lips. “Actually, don’t kiss the bride.”

A ripple of laughter broke through the crowd, light-hearted and holding not a bit of judgment.

Lloyd, true to his word, didn’t kiss her. He swept forward instead, brown eyes alight with mischief, lifting her into the air while she squealed in surprise. Throwing her head back, she laughed with wild abandon, heart soaring in her chest like a bird, free to explore the skies with nothing weighing it down.

~~~

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. She and Lloyd did a set of dwarven vows as well, written on a piece of paper that they let float down the river and out of sight, where it might one day be carried to reach Gnome. Dirk had cried big, fat tears as her father awkwardly rubbed his shoulders, and when it was done, he had crushed them both in a hug that had knocked a few flowers out of her hair.

The party had gone into full swing then, and she had spent it mingling with friends and accepting warm congratulations. She was no better at dancing now than she had been four years ago, but she and Lloyd managed just fine, swaying across the grass in small circles, her ear pressed to his chest as she listened to the steady beat of his heart, his hand on her back holding her close. And he caught her every time she tripped, pulling her back into the routine without missing a beat.

She'd warily eyed the bottle of alcohol Zelos had procured out of nowhere, knowing that a tipsy Zelos, Sheena and Genis in the same location spelt disaster, as it had at various get-togethers at Zelos' mansion. But she had to admit it had been fun to gang up on Lloyd, each of them planting a kiss on him at the same time which caused him to flush to the tips of his ears. Things had gotten progressively wilder until Raine had confiscated the alcohol and promptly declared that the next person to do something stupid would be facing her wrath, which remarkably caused everyone to sober instantly. It was both impressive and fearsome that she still had that effect on them all even though they were far too old to qualify as her students. Some things just never changed.

By that point, some of the guests were starting to feel tired and beginning to retire back to Iselia. Still buoyed by the warm happiness flooding her entire body, she'd spent the afternoon alone with Lloyd after changing into something more appropriate, soaring through the skies on their wings, catching the wind and chasing each other in short bursts that ended with her winning most of the time. Lloyd still wasn't the most graceful in the air, and while his control had certainly improved, it couldn't match her ability to wield her wings like a natural extension of her. With the wind caught in his hair, it wasn't long before it was a mess again - but she didn't mind, for she truly did love running her hands through that unruly mess that was essentially a part of him.

And now here they were on the roof of her house once more, winding down the night in the company of the stars. The sky glimmered with the light of a thousand of them, winking playfully down at the two of them. Her head rested in Lloyd's lap as his fingers gently rubbed against her scalp, the motion slowly lulling her to sleep.

In a relaxed haze, she raised his hand, pressing a kiss to his open palm. "Love you," she mumbled sleepily, blinking sluggishly up at him. The words came to her so easily now, springing from her lips like they were nothing special. For they weren't. It was a fundamental truth, like how the sun would rise from the east every morning and the seasons would continue to turn. It would remain the truth forevermore, regardless of how many years would pass, a part of her that she would never doubt.

She knew that once she had drifted off into dreamland, he would gently carry her to bed and tuck them both in. She would wake up tomorrow in the safety of his arms, with the sunlight dancing over their faces, and she would watch him sleep, tracing the planes of his face until his eyes fluttered open. She would see him off again once the sun rose to its apex, giving him a kiss on the cheek goodbye as she gave him yet another leaf of a forget-me-not, freshly plucked from her garden. Once he had left, she would return home to sip a cup of calming tea on her porch, calmly watching children run by and waving back when they shouted a greeting. Someone would visit over the months, and she would never be alone, even when she was the only one in Iselia, the knowledge of their unfaltering companionship filling the space of her heart and keeping her company.

Nothing would change despite the vows they had uttered that very morning, for they didn't have to. She was content with what she had now - she had discovered a place to belong, a place where she could simply be without judgment. She had finally found a happy ending that she had once thought out of her reach - her very own, and one that would continue forevermore, safe in her and Lloyd’s clasped hands.

She wouldn't trade it for anything.

[dumfanting]

Same Heart ch 29, The Veteran

AO3 Link

Rating: M, mature

Warnings: wound care, description of injury, implied sex (but there actually isn’t), painkillers

7410 Words

It’s been more than a month since the last update! Life got busy, between finding a job (first day today!) and helping my mom recover from surgery, I didn’t realize how long the gap had become.

Cassia Nu belongs to @kaminocasey, and is the main character in their Bonsoir series; I was given the okay to include this cameo.

F! Reader/ Echo

F! Reader/ Crosshair

You get into the library, then visit Kix, and Rex finds out about the ‘agreement’.

After Hunter returns to his room, you, Echo, and Crosshair leave the hotel and are about to split up for the day. After the debacle with the Duros man yesterday, you make it a point to be sure whoever’s cab the guys get into isn’t being driven by another jackass. You slip Echo enough credits for the ride there and back, kiss his cheek, then Crosshairs, and wave them off as the cab pulls out into traffic.

An empty taxi takes its place, and you hop inside. You quickly consult your data pad, and give the driver, an unusually quiet Gungan woman, the address General Skywalker sent you. As the speeder drives off, your comm device chirps at you with a call from him.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you yesterday, it completely slipped my mind,” he says, sounding embarrassed, “you’ll be meeting up with Jocasta Nu at the Library. On the off chance you can’t find her, just ask somebody, everyone there knows who she is.”

“Jocasta Nu, got it,” you repeat, ensuring that you’ll remember the name.

“If she can’t help you figure this out, I don’t think anybody can,” he says, but he doesn’t sound very serious.

“I can’t thank you enough General,” you say, and he interrupts you.

“Just ‘Anakin’ is fine,” he says, catching you by surprise.

“Oh! Okay, um, Anakin. I really can’t put into words how much you doing this means to me,” you say, feeling odd about using a superiors first name.

“Hey, I’m just as invested as you are, remember?” he says, laughing a little.

“Right! I’ll let you know whatever we find out. Thank you again sir,” you say brightly.

Before he can say anything else, you hear what sounds like Rex getting his attention in the background.

“Yeah, we’ll meet up later,” he says, ending the call.

You return your comm to your bag and it occurs to you that you still don't know who exactly you’ll be meeting. All you’ve got to go on now is a name and that she’s a woman. You can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed by this though; not only is the General (or Anakin , apparently) doing you a massive favor, you know he’s got an entire galaxy’s worth of bigger things to contend with.

You spend the rest of the ride to the Library thinking about everything you’ve experienced up to this point. It all weighs heavily on your mind, and you’re so deep in thought that you don’t realize right away when the speeder has parked. You shake yourself, pay the driver and thank her, then step outside.

The sheer size of the place is intimidating, and when you notice a few Jedi in their brown robes looking curiously at you, you feel grossly out of place. Despite that, you make your way up the stone stairs, determined to get to the bottom of whatever’s been happening to you. Once inside, you find yourself in a wide hall, and your footsteps echo loudly in the impressive space.

You have no idea where to go. You’re sure that Master Nu would be in the actual library area, but it feels very wrong for you to just go waltzing inside. You glance around, wishing you’d gotten more about her from Anakin, and so don’t immediately notice the young human woman you crash into.

You both hit the floor and you quickly scramble to your feet. You bend and offer your hand before you pull her to her feet, apologizing profusely. She dusts herself off and meets your eyes, and you’re momentarily startled by her fair skin and bright red hair; she’s very pretty. You ask if she’s alright.

“Oh, I’m okay, you just startled me,” she says, waving it off. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, but she frowns slightly at you.

“Now, I’ll admit that I don’t know every single person who comes through here, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” she says, sounding more curious than suspicious.

“Well, this is my first time here. Do you know who Jocasta Nu is? I’m supposed to meet her inside,” you say, and the woman smiles brightly at you.

“Oh! She’s my great aunt, I was just on my way out from visiting her,” she says. She tells you to follow her, and you match her stride as she leads you through the entrance hall. You chat a little, and find out that her name is Cassia, and that she owns a small bookstore.

“Like, actual ink and flimsi books?” you say, surprised. She nods at you.

“There’s something special about having a physical copy in your hands, y’know?” she says, and you agree. You both continue walking and she asks about you. You give her your name and tell her that you’re a contracted field medic in the GAR. She seems impressed, but doesn’t ask about it.

By this point, you’ve reached the doors, and once you step through, you’re taken aback by the grandeur of the Library.

This room is just as impressive (and intimidating) as the building itself. The ceiling is high and the polished floor is so reflective that it makes the place appear even larger than it already is. Looking around, you see rows and rows of what appear to be data banks sprawling across the floor, and they’re several feet high. The way they’re laid out creates twisting paths of varying width, occasionally spacing out far enough to create a sort of ‘clearing’ which houses computer terminals, desks, and chairs. It all reminds you of a well traveled forest, though with much better lighting, and hopefully less wild animals. You can hear the soft tapping of footsteps, the hum of the terminals, and the occasional chirp of a droid.

As you’re marveling at the place, you hear someone say Cassia’s name, which redirects you to the task at hand.

“I thought you were leaving?” they say.

“Oh, I still am, I just literally bumped into someone who’s looking for you,” Cassia says, gesturing towards you.

You look toward the voice and see a short, wizened old human woman with brown robes and white hair approaching the two of you. She looks you up and down and claps her hands together.

“Ah, of course!” she says. She asks your name and you give it to her, then she nods at you and says “Anakin told me to expect you today.”

Cassia smiles at her great aunt, then looks over at you.

“It was nice to meet you,” she says. “The next time you’re planetside, you think you’ll be able to come by The Spine?” she says.

“Sure, I’d love to see the place,” you say, also smiling at her.

Cassia quickly digs a bit of flimsi and a stylus out of her bag and writes down the address for you. You take it and tuck it into your own bag.

“I’ll be heading back out then,” she says, politely excusing herself. “Be safe out there, okay?” she says, speaking to you directly. You nod and tell her to do the same, then she leaves through the door you both came in and Master Nu waves goodbye to her great niece.

“She’s a sweet girl, my Cassia,” she says fondly, before returning her attention to you. When she continues speaking, her tone is business-like. “Now, Anakin and I agreed that it would be better if I heard about everything from you directly, so I don't know much. Once you fill me in, I’ll know where to start,” she says, walking down an aisle.

You follow her through the data banks and into a secluded ‘clearing’ in a smaller section with nobody else around to overhear, which you appreciate. You both take a seat in a pair of nearby chairs.

“Whenever you’re ready dear,” she says. You nod at her, then take a deep breath and tell your stories yet again. She’s listening intently and looks startled when you describe the shared dream. That expression changes into near-shock after you finish talking about how you felt Fives with you back in the ship’s bunks.

“Good Maker,” she says quietly. “Is there anything else?”

You think about the vague feeling of dread that’s been following you around since Anakin confirmed that you are force sensitive, but halfheartedly brush that off as general anxiety about the war.

“No ma’am, I think I understand everything else just fine,” you say, shifting in your seat.

“The Force works in mysterious ways,” Master Nu says. “Which I know isn’t a very helpful answer. Out of everything, what stands out to you the most?” she asks.

“I mean, Anakin was able to explain a fair bit of the visions to me,” you say. “So the biggest thing is the shared dream, and what happened in the bunks,” you say, then pause for a moment. “It all seems to come back to Fives, doesn’t it?” you say softly.

“It certainly looks that way,” she says. “You’ve been through quite a lot. I’m sorry to say that I don’t have any direct answers for you, but I do know where to look for them. Follow me,” she says. She gets to her feet and beckons you to join her.

You obediently walk alongside Master Nu as she leads you to a large terminal station in the center of the cavernous space. She activates one and types in your name, followed by a few other things, as you watch. She must have Sensed your confusion.

“Oh, I’m not looking up anything about you, don’t worry about that; we leave the GAR affairs entirely separate from the data here,” she explains, chuckling softly. “I’ve simply taken the liberty of adding you into our registry. I get the feeling you’ll need more time than just today to find what you're looking for, so now you're free to come and go without a chaperone,” she says.

“Oh, thank you!” you say, surprised by her thoughtfulness. Master Nu smiles softly at you.

“Anytime dear. Now,” she says, clapping her hands together again, “I’m sure you want to get right to it, yes?”

“I do, yes. I’ll be shipping out in a few days, so the sooner the better,” you say, inclining your head in her direction.

She starts walking again, quickly this time, and you follow her once more through another twisting pathway between the data banks.

“Is there a way to access any of this from outside?” you ask, recalling that Anakin asked why you didn’t just have Tech look into any of this for you.

“No, there isn’t, it’s all encrypted. Security reasons, I’m sure you understand,” she says, then you nod at her while she turns a corner and stops so abruptly that you nearly run into her too.

Master Nu scans over a nearby display screen, then you watch as she fishes a small key out of her robes. She uses it to unlock a section of the data bank just out of her reach, then uses the Force to summon a handful of data chips, catching them between her fingers. You watch, spellbound, and wonder if you’ll ever be able to move objects like that. The librarian takes a moment to carefully examine each one, then uses the Force again to put two of them away. She locks the bank, then goes back into her robes. This time she pulls out a small box with slots for each chip, and she carefully sets each one place before closing it and handing it to you.

“There we are, that should be enough to get you started,” Master Nu says. “If you need help finding another section, I’m usually near the entrance or the terminals at the center, so come find me and I’ll take you wherever you need to go,” she says.

You briefly bow your head at her, saying how thankful you are for her help, and she gives you a soft smile before leaving you to your own devices.

You examine the box in your hand. It’s small, like something a ring would be held in, and after you crack it open you count eight different data chips.

A sudden chill runs through you as you realize that you may be holding the answers to everything in the palm of your hand.

You carefully close the box and retrace your steps, stopping in another clearing full of chairs, then plop yourself down into the first one you see. After retrieving your datapad from your bag, you unlock it and open the box of chips. You aren’t sure if there’s a specific order they need to be read in, so to be safe, you delicately pick out the one in the first slot and click it into the side of your device.

It takes a few seconds to load, and in that time you briefly wonder if Echo and Crosshair have reached Shalka’s yet. You realize that unless Echo warned him, Crosshair would have no idea what he’d be dealing with. You can’t help but smirk and wish you were there to see his face the first time she casually swears at him.

After the text finally loads, you shift your focus and the world around you takes a backseat as you read.

Around the same time, miles away, the two clones are stepping through the door into Shalka Myrr’s workshop. The speeder they had taken there was open-air, so they didn’t bother trying to talk on the way, and they’re still quiet. Echo goes first and Crosshair follows, then does a double-take at the barely organized clutter of the small space.

“Good Maker, I thought Tech was bad,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, Meds said something like that too,” Echo says. “Apparently I haven’t been around long enough to see it yet,” he continues with a shrug.

“You’re calling her that?” Crosshair says, surprised.

“Should I not? The rest of you do,” Echo says, frowning slightly.

“Well yeah, but-,” Crosshair says, sounding skeptical, but Echo interrupts him.

“Look, I know you gave her the name, and I don't care. If we’re going to make this thing with her work, we can’t keep doing that ‘me versus you’ shit,” he says firmly.

“Fair enough,” Crosshair concedes, looking around the room again. Echo also glances around, trying to figure out which ‘fuckin’ shelf collapsed’ after he left with you yesterday.

On the heels of that thought, just as he wonders where Shalka is, there’s a sudden crash and a loud curse from the back of the room. Crosshair meets Echos eyes and raises a brow at him.

“That seems to happen here a lot,” Echo says, unaffected, before carefully making his way through the space, around the packed shelving units, and toward the workbench. Crosshair follows, and is startled when a large chunk of something metal hits the floor and skids across it with a screech, having been thrown from a smaller room beside the workbench.

Shalka steps out after it, muttering in the same unfamiliar language to herself. She bends down and retrieves the object, then throws it into an unmarked barrel, scowling as if it had personally offended her. When she turns toward the room, she obviously isn’t expecting the two of them to be there, if her sudden shout is any indication.

“Dank ferrik, I have got to get that fuckin’ door chime fixed,” she says, regaining her composure quickly and pinching at the bridge of her nose. She’s dressed like she was yesterday, only her cargo pants are a medium tan color and her tank top is blue with quite a few scorch marks on it. She hasn’t bothered with the goggles or gloves yet, but she does have one of the styluses you gave her yesterday tucked behind an ear.

“Well Hero, now that my hearts aren’t gonna stop, hurry up and sit, we got a lot to do and not much time to do it,” she says. Echo obeys and Shalka gathers some materials and the large flimsi sheet of sketches and notes from yesterday, then drops them onto the workbench. She moves to walk into the larger area of the room, and bumps into Crosshair.

“Who the hell is this?” Shalka barks, crossing her arms and regarding him suspiciously. Crosshair is taken aback by her attitude and doesn’t know how to react, so he just stands there.

Echo, trying not to laugh, quickly fills her in. Shalka looks the sniper up and down again.

“Never heard of ya,” she says dismissively. When Crosshair still hasn’t moved, she rolls her eyes at him.

“You gonna get out of my way?” she says, moving her hands to her hips, and he finally stands aside. “Thank you,” she mumbles, exasperated, as she pushes past him to grab a few more things.

He looks over at Echo, who’s snickering. “Probably should’ve warned you,” Echo says while Crosshair shakes his head in disbelief.

“What, that I’m rude?” Shalka says from directly behind him, startling the sniper for a third time. She frowns at him for a few seconds before returning to her stool at her workbench and dropping a few more small containers onto it.

“Bit jumpy, ain’t he?” she says, settling down. She throws a sharp look at him. “You ever say anything?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Crosshair growls, having returned to his senses.

“By the Maker, he can talk!” Shalka says in exaggerated surprise, holding her hands on either side of her face, then she shakes her head at him and returns her attention to Echo, who’s having a hard time keeping a straight face.

Smirking, she taps the worktop, and Echo stretches his replaced arm across it. After taking off the armor he had on that arm, she picks up a small screwdriver and taps it a few times against the link, a couple of joints, and near the point where the metal of the cybernetic meets his skin.

“Can you feel that?” she asks, and Echo shakes his head. “Good, otherwise this is gonna suck,” she continues. She leans down to one side, and returns with the high magnification goggles in her cybernetic hand. She quickly pulls them on, and, surprisingly gently, takes hold of Echos scomp and begins to undo a few screws.

“So where’s Sunshine at? Surprised she ain’t here with ya,” Shalka says.

Echo internally panics for a second, unsure of if you’d said anything about your plans to Crosshair or not, and if you had, he doesn’t know what you’ve told him. Crosshair doesn’t seem to notice this and speaks up.

“She got shot-,” he starts, but is cut off by a startled exclamation from the Zabrak woman.

“What the fuck you doin’ here then?” she asks, dropping the screwdriver and staring at Echo in confusion.

“Excuse you,” Crosshair hisses, regaining her attention. “As I was saying, she got shot during our last mission and she’s getting it checked out today. If you had let me fucking speak, you wouldn’t have needed to freak out like that.”

Once again, Shalka crosses her arms and looks him up and down, then she smirks.

“Well, with the way you worded that, how else was I supposed to react?” she says, and the two stare skeptically at each other until she speaks again. “You’re an ass, you know. I like you. Now sit down, shut up, and lemme work,” she says, gesturing to the empty stool on Echos' right side.

Echo glances between her and the confused expression on Crosshairs face and can’t help but laugh again, sorry that you’re missing this.

Over in the Library a few hours later, you’re about halfway through reading the fourth data chip. Taking in the history of Force abilities and related events throughout the galaxy is fascinating, but you’re getting annoyed, as you’ve yet to find anything pertinent. You take a breath and remind yourself that you’ve only just begun your research, so it’s highly unlikely that you’ll discover anything this soon. The chrono on your wrist chimes the hour, and when you glance at it you’re mildly startled by how long you’ve been here.

You decide to pack it in for today, since you still wanted to go see Kix. You carefully eject the chip from your datapad and replace it in the small box before getting to your feet and stretching. You return your device into your bag, and you’re about to stow the box away too before you realize that you probably can’t take it out of the building. You don’t remember where the chips came from, but even if you did, it was unlikely you’d be able to find them again tomorrow. You decide to see Master Nu and ask if there’s a way to have them set aside for you.

After taking a few wrong turns, you eventually make your way back to the center of the room. Master Nu isn’t at the terminals, so you continue toward the doors you came in through, spotting her nearby behind a kind of counter. She glances up at you as you approach.

“Oh, you’re through already?” she says, surprised.

“For today,” you say. “I have a few other errands I need to take care of.”

“Understandable,” she says, nodding. “Did you find anything?” she asks.

“As interesting as it all is, no, not yet. But I didn’t really expect to right away,” you say.

“I imagine you’ll be back tomorrow then,” she says, and you nod.

“That’s actually why I’m here. I got about halfway through the box, but I don’t think I can take it with me-,” you start, before Master Nu gently interrupts.

“Oh my no, they cannot leave this room,” she says, holding her hand out. You give her the box and she continues; “Did you say you’ve already read half of these?” she asks, sounding impressed.

“Yes, I read pretty quickly,” you say.

“You and Cassia would get along well, I think,” she says thoughtfully. “Anyway, since you’re coming back tomorrow, I’ll keep this,” she says, gesturing with the box, “in here,” she continues, opening a kind of safe or cabinet, “so you don’t have to find it again.”

“Oh, good, I was just about to ask, thank you,” you say.

You watch her place the box snugly into a perfectly sized niche in the safe, then close it before running a fingertip along a small sensor at the top.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Master Nu says, and you thank her again before making an exit.

You walk through the entrance hall, thinking about what you’d learned today. What little you found that was relevant to the events with Fives was not quite what you were looking for. It had basically repeated what Anakin told you in the beginning; a shared dream is incredibly rare between those who are Sensitive and those who are not. You sigh, then hail another cab.

One pulls up and you step inside, telling the driver, an old Pantoran man, that you need to get to the GAR headquarters. He moves back into the flow of traffic and regards you through the rear view mirror.

“Pardon me nosin’ around, but what business you got there?” he asks. Similar to Cassia earlier, he sounds more curious than anything else, so you humor him.

“I got shot during my last mission and I’m going to get it looked over before we ship out again,” you say.

“They got you goin’ on missions?” he asks as he glances into his mirror at you again, surprised.

“They do,” you say, staying friendly but not volunteering too much information.

“Why the hell you get involved with the war?” he says, sounding confused. “Ah damn,” he says, catching himself. “That was rude, sorry abou’ that.”

“I'm a civilian contractor, I work for the GAR as a field and combat medic,” you say. The man is quiet for a moment before speaking again.

“I dunno if that’s admirable or crazy,” he says.

“Bit of both?” you respond, keeping the tone light.

“Yeah, I ‘spose that’s fair. There anyone else like you?” he asks.

You take your turn to be quiet and think.

Aside from Bortuse and maybe one or two others back in your old stomping grounds, everyone you’ve worked with has been either a Jedi or a clone. You also can’t recall seeing many other ‘nat-borns’ during your missions with the Batch.

“I haven’t given it much thought before,” you admit. “But no, not really. I’ve been working for the Republic from the beginning, but I’ve only met three or four others from the private sector,” you say.

“Shame, that,” the driver says, making a left turn.

“How so?” you asked, taken aback by the comment.

“Well, the Clones don’t got much choice in the matter, and the Jedi ain’t much better off,” he says.

You frown, but hold your tongue. You know damn well that the Clones have no choice whatsoever, but this isn’t the place to go off about it.

“You’re different,” the man continues. “Takes a special kinda person to volunteer for that brand of hell,” he says.

“Oh no, I’m not-,” you say, but he cuts you off.

“Yes ma’am, y’are. Folks like you are the only ones who can really appreciate the men getting kilt out there, if you’re askin’ me,” he says. You sit in surprised silence for a moment, slipping back into thought before eventually speaking again.

“It’s just so cruel,” you say quietly. “To be forced into existence for the sole purpose to be used as nothing more than a tool and thrown away.”

“Aye, it is,” the man says.

There’s a minute of somber silence before he speaks up again.

“You get hurt bad?” he asks.

“Thankfully it just grazed me, but I don’t know if it’s worse than it looks,” you say.

“Smart thinkin’ then, getting it looked at,” he says. He hesitates for a second, and you can tell he wants to ask something else.

“We were overrun by droids,” you say quietly, correctly guessing what his unspoken question was. “One of the men was already injured and I took a shot aimed at him while I pushed him out of the way,” you continue, keeping the story as bare bones as possible.

The man softly says something in a language you don’t understand, and you’re startled when a strong gust of respect rolls over you from him. He doesn’t say anything else to you until he stops along the sidewalk. You count out the credits you owe, then hand it to him. He takes it and says “Thank you, miss,” with an odd earnestness.

This feels like too great of a response for such a simple transaction, so you hesitate before leaving the cab.

“Now, I gotta be clear on something,” he says. “I wasn’t thankin’ you for the money.” He turns around and you get a look at his face for the first time, managing to hold back a sound of surprise. He has a cybernetic eye, and a good third of his face, neck, and head are heavily scarred by burns.

“Back when I was fightin’, nobody cared abou’ us. It didn’t matter if we was out there or back home, dead or alive. So it gives me hope, meetin’ someone like you. Not many people left can really appreciate what you’re doing, but I can. So, thank you,” he says.

He holds out an equally scarred hand. Unable to speak, you take it and give him a firm shake as you lock eyes for a moment.

“Be safe out there, miss,” he says, giving you a crisp salute before turning back around.

“Y-yeah. You do the same, sir,” you say quietly before stepping out of the speeder.

Once you’re on the sidewalk and have walked a few steps away, the cab merges back into traffic. You watch it drive away until you can’t see it anymore, and regret not asking the man his name.

As you make your way through the familiar halls of the GAR headquarters, the conversation you just had with the old veteran replays in your mind, and you remember when you and Hunter had a similar conversation, just before the Trench mission. It seems like you really should give yourself a little more credit than you do, if these talks are anything to go by. You glance over the faces of everyone you pass on the way to the med bay, and aside from the clones and occasional Jedi, you don’t see anybody else. Now that the lack of contractors like you has been pointed out, it bothers you greatly.

You’re about to step through another set of doors when someone calls your name, getting your attention. You look around and spot a clone in full kit headed in your direction, then recognize Jesse by the distinct design on his helmet, which he slips off as he gets closer.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks. “I thought you stayed with Echo?”

“Oh, I did, the squad is just taking some leave for the next few days,” you say.

“Still doesn’t tell me what you’re doing here,” he says, smirking.

“I got shot before we left Anaxes, I wanted Kix to take another look at it,” you say, starting to walk again.

Jesse, startled, asks how that happened, and you spend the remainder of your walk through the halls filling him in about the mission and what happened to you. When you're done talking, he tells you what that same day looked like on his side.

“It’s a damn good thing that Echo was there,” he says. “I don’t think we would have made it out otherwise.” You nod.

“Absolutely. I swore to myself that if I lost anyone else I’d go supernova, but thankfully that didn’t happen,” you say.

“Yeah, we definitely don’t want that,” he says, holding a door open for you. You thank him and continue walking, then realize that he (hopefully) hadn’t heard about you snapping on Skako Minor. You debate telling him about it, but remember how he and Crosshair had nearly come to blows, twice, during your joint mission and decide not to.

“So you really took a shot for him?” Jesse asks, referring back to Echo. You nod and stop for a second. You can’t show him the actual injury without undressing, but by slipping your belt downwards and pulling the fabric of your caftan taut against your side, he can see the shape of the bandages well enough.

“I’m surprised Rex didn’t tell you anything about it,” you say, pulling everything back into place before moving forward again.

“He did say you were hurt but didn’t really go into details,” Jesse says with a shrug, then glances around as if he’d just realized something.

“Speaking of Echo, where is he? I’m surprised you’ve let him out of your sight,” he says. You roll your eyes, then quickly tell him about Shalka. Before he can say anything else, you finally make it to Kix’s office and knock on the door. As it slides open, Jesse says it was good to see you again and nods at Kix in the doorway before returning to what he was doing.

Kix nods back, then steps aside to let you in.

“You missed me that much, huh?” he says with a smirk, leaning back on his desk.

“Gotta get my Kix fix,” you say with a laugh. Kix stares at you for a second before snorting back a laugh of his own.

“That was terrible,” he says.

You roll your eyes and playfully jab his shoulder.

“Yeah, I know, but if we can focus, I think you should take another look at my side,” you say, gesturing to it. Kix frowns slightly.

“What for? I told you earlier that it was fine, did something happen?” he asks, standing normally again and approaching you.

You quickly talk about how it’s been healing, but mainly focus on the pain you feel when you flex the muscles on that side.

“I think there might be damage deeper than we realized,” you say, and he nods.

“Yeah, I’ll look at it again, and if I find anything, we can figure out where to go from there,” he says before quickly moving to wash his hands and glove up.

As he does this, you undo your belt and pull your dress off over your head, then lie on a nearby cot, absentmindedly slipping out of your shoes. You turn onto your uninjured side and, with your permission, Kix carefully removes your bandages. You hiss with discomfort as they peel away from your skin and tug at the raw edges of the wound. He kneels onto the floor beside you, tells you he’ll need to actually feel into it to get a better idea of what’s going on below the surface, and you nod at him, despite the anxious lurch in your stomach.

Rex, having heard from Jesse a few minutes ago that you’re in the building, is walking through the halls and wondering where you went. He doesn’t have to wonder for long though; when he passes Kix’s office he's startled to hear a high gasp that sounds exactly like you coming from inside. He freezes in front of the door, listening.

“Oh my god, Kix,” you whine, and Rex immediately pictures the worst.

Kix says your name. “I know. You’re doing great,” he says, his voice low and soft.

Rex is tempted to barge in there and confirm his suspicions, but he hesitates; he doesn’t want another blowup like you two had on Anaxes. As he debates on what to do, you suddenly gasp and make a startled kind of sound.

“Kix, Rex is outside, he can hear us,” you pant.

“How the hell does she know?” Rex thinks, taking a single step back.

“Do you want me to chase him off?” Kix asks, and Rex is surprised when you laugh a little before moaning softly.

“Just keep going, I don’t care if he sees me like this,” you say.

“Well, if you’re sure. The doors unlocked, Rex,” he says, speaking up.

Incensed by how blatant this is, Rex marches into the room, ready to tear into you both, but freezes when he sees what’s really going on.

Your dress, belt, and shoes are in a heap at the foot of the cot you’re lying on, and you’re wearing only a bra and panties, but it’s the least sexy thing he’s ever seen. Kix, gloved up and kneeling beside you, is carefully prodding around on top of and slightly into your blaster-shot wound, his gloved hands red at the fingertips. Kix looks at you apologetically and does a few final palpitations. You curse and cry out his name again as your eyes water over with pain, then he sits back on his heels, taking his hands off of you.

“We’re done now, you can relax,” he says, his voice soft again.

Rex, having been given obvious context to what he’d heard, turns away, ashamed of himself. How the hell he’d overlooked not only that you’d been shot, but you were also in the medics office was a mystery to him.

“You know,” Kix says, pulling Rex out of his own head and getting to his feet, “I’m surprised Echo isn’t with you.” Kix disposes of his soiled gloves before washing his hands again and pulling on a new pair. He then grabs a med kit similar to the one you used last night, comes back to the cot, and returns to his knees beside you.

“Jesse thought that too,” you say.

While Kix redresses your wound, you tell him and Rex about the work Shalka is doing for Echo, and by the time you’ve finished talking, he’s bandaged you back up. Kix stands again and sheds his gloves, then washes his hands a third time. Once you’re dressed and back on your feet, he tells you that there is indeed muscle damage.

“Dank ferrik, of course there is,” you say, exasperated, as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “So now what?”

“Come to this room first thing tomorrow morning,” Kix says, then writes something down on a scrap of flimsi and hands it to you. “It’s too deep to heal properly with how we’ve been treating it, but after a few hours in a bacta soak it should significantly improve.”

An anxious pit starts to form in your gut at the thought of such a confined space, but you stop it by wondering how long the treatment will keep you from Echo (and your research). Annoyed by the inconvenience, but recognizing its necessity, you nod in understanding at Kix without saying anything. He appears to think for a second, then hands you a small pill, which you swallow dry without pause.

“That should stop the pain for the rest of the day, but it'll make you feel tipsy, so I suggest you get some sleep,” he says after you take it. You thank him, then step back into the hallway with Rex.

Having a rare few minutes of free time, the captain decides to walk you out of the building and back outside. About halfway there, you notice that he keeps side-eyeing you, and you stop.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” you say, confused.

“I'm trying to figure out how you knew it was me on the other side of the door back there,” he says. A jolt of panic crosses your face and you pray that he doesn’t notice.

“Lucky guess,” you say, attempting to be casual about it, but the way he’s watching you tells you he’s not buying the act. You sigh and say “you’re a smart man Rex, I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now.”

He smirks at you and you hold back an annoyed sigh.

“What was your first clue?” you ask, slowly starting to walk again.

“Aside from the few dreams you’ve mentioned to me, right?” he says, matching your pace. You nod at him.

“General Skywalker has a habit of thinking out loud; I’ve heard him mumbling your name every now and then, and since all your reports are filed there’s no real reason you’d stay in contact with him,” Rex says with a shrug.

“Yep, nailed it,” you say, sighing again.

“So you are Sensitive then?” he asks, and you instinctively check to see if anyone’s overheard him, but thankfully there’s nobody around.

“Yes, I am. Now, call it a gut feeling, or instinct, or whatever, but only you, Echo, and Anakin know; I’m keeping it as quiet as possible.” you say, preemptively explaining yourself.

“Anakin?” Rex says, distracted.

“It feels so weird to use his first name, but yeah, he told me to call him that now, I guess since he’s been helping me figure out this Force stuff,” you say, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. Rex says nothing, and appears to be deep in thought.

The pair of you make it to the entrance you came in through without saying anything else, and Rex’s thoughts are interrupted when he sees Echo approaching you both.

“Oh, hey!” you say, surprised but smiling and giving him a tight hug. He rests his forehead against yours, and you briefly close your eyes, enjoying the contact with him.

“Shalka finished up with me early, she’s going to be fabricating for the rest of the day,” Echo says, stepping back and giving you a soft kiss. “Besides, we thought we’d surprise you,” he continues.

“We?” Rex says, confused.

“Oh yeah, you don’t know about that,” Echo says.

“About what?” Rex asks.

At the same time, Crosshair makes it through the crowd and reaches you. Neither of you say anything before he pulls you in close and kisses you deeply.

Rex glances between the three of you, completely bewildered, and Echo is trying not to laugh at his stunned face.

“That,” Echo says.

After you and Crosshair break apart, you flush when you realize Rex is staring at you. Crosshair gives him a stiff nod without saying anything, which he returns.

“So, what did Kix say?” Echo asks, changing the subject while stepping closer to you and snaking his arm around your waist. You quickly fill him and Crosshair in on what went on earlier.

“He gave her something for the pain, it should be kicking in around now,” Rex adds as you finish talking. Before anyone can say anything else, Rex’s comm chirps at him; Anakin is asking for him. Rex shoots you three an apologetic look before jogging back inside the building and answering the call.

You dig your own comm out of your bag and call for a taxi. They say it’ll be a few minutes before one arrives, so after you end the call you lead the other two to a bench nearby and sit. Crosshair notices you smirking at him, and makes a ‘what?’ kind of sound at you.

“So how’d you get along with Shalka?” you ask with a snicker. He rolls his eyes while Echo laughs. They tell you about their day until the taxi arrives. When you stand up from the bench, you stumble forward and barely manage to catch yourself.

“Looks like that painkiller is starting to work,” Crosshair says, amused. You try to walk toward the taxi, but stumble a second time, tripping over your own feet and falling backwards into him, and he catches you with Echo’s help.

The two men exchange a glance and hold you steady by the shoulders, steering you toward the cab. Echo slides into the enclosed speeder first and you follow, but trip on your own feet again and land in his lap. Crosshair comes in behind you and gives the driver the hotel address. When the speeder starts moving, you sit up, but stay in Echo’s lap, which surprises him.

“My legs won’t bother you?” he asks quietly.

“Kix must have given me something good, I can’t feel a damn thing,” you say, giggling. “But- but even if I could, I don’t care. I like who they’re attached to,” you continue. You settle yourself, rest your head in the hollow of his left shoulder, and drape your legs over Crosshair's knees.

He looks like he’s going to say something, but is stopped by a sudden loud snore; you’ve already fallen asleep.

The ride back is spent in relative silence, save for an occasional snore or mumble from you. By the time the taxi reaches its destination, the sun is starting to set.

Once you’ve arrived, Echo shakes you awake and you yawn widely.

“Are we there yet?” you ask, still half asleep. Crosshair pays the driver, then leads you back onto the sidewalk, firmly holding his hand on your waist.

“Yeah, we’re there,” Echo says, holding your right hand in his left.

“Ok good,” you mumble. “‘M sleepy.”

The two men guide you back into the hotel while Crosshair speaks.

“I know kitten, we’re taking you to bed,” he says. You perk up, glancing between the two of them and giggling even more.

���Ha, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” you say. “I would,” you add as an afterthought.

Once you’ve reached the cluster of rooms you’d gotten for everyone, Echo unlocks yours and the three of you head inside. You’re led to the large bed, and he slips your belt and caftan off over your head. Crosshair joins you and undoes the hooks of your binder, tossing it aside. You kick your shoes off, then giggle again and look pointedly between them both.

“Getting right to it, I like that,” you say in what you think is a seductive voice.

In reality, you sound like a Bantha with a head cold, so they just shake their heads at you and guide you onto your back. Echo adjusts your pillow while Crosshair pulls the blankets over you. You feel sleep quickly approaching, but before you give in, you gesture to them both and they bend down to your level.

You look at Echo and cup his cheek, then do the same to Crosshair.

“Mine,” you say, glancing between the two of them.

In near-perfect sync, they each move their faces away from your hands, kiss your palms and say “yours.” You giggle again, then fall asleep immediately afterward.

Taglist: @kaminocasey @madameminor @jennamelinda12 @arctrooper69 @the-cantina @jedi-hawkins @wolveria @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @whore4rex @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000 @vanyaluxz1007

To be added to or removed from this list, reply to this post.

[dark9896]

Flufftober 2023

Day 25: Unexpected Kiss [x Klaus]

It felt as if Klaus hardly had a moment to breathe. Whenever there was a few scant moments, something else appeared. It was a little unnerving.

And yet, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he felt like he was constantly forgetting something.

Even worse, he couldn't remember what it was he seemed to be forgetting. Klaus felt like he only needed a brief moment or two to figure out this feeling, but today was simply uncompromising in how much time he was allowed to stop and breathe... let alone think.

If he could ask you or Steven what he might be missing, the feeling would surely fade and Klaus could go on with this hectic day. But alas, no such chance arose... it was truly one thing after the next.

.

It was unusual... Klaus was typically the first to say something on your birthday. Then again, today was so chaotic you briefly forgot your own birthday. Didn't help that you had to get used to even celebrating it once you joined Libra. But that was years ago, Klaus had never missed a single year so far.

But by god, this latest beast was getting on your last nerve. You vaguely wondered if this was Femt's way of trying to celebrate your birthday... pretty poor way to go about it.

Just barely dodging its massive paw, "Hey, C'mon! Its my birthday! Can't you just sit still like a good monster dog?"

Klaus nearly stopped in his tracks. That's what he was missing, he should have known. No wonder you had been glancing at him all day... Klaus hadn't missed a single birthday since you joined... between himself and K.K. no birthday went uncelebrated.

Though if Klaus was honest with himself, his remembering yours was from the... seemingly inappropriate crush he harbored on you. At least, it felt inappropriate given the fact that you worked together. Despite having been quite recently that Klaus even realized precisely why he enjoyed spending time with you.

But now wasn't the time to think about that. First, the two of you had to put this creature down. Or else hope that Steven would be around soon. None of these creatures ever did well in freezing temperatures.

.

Finally, you were able to kick off your shoes and relax... or so you thought. Just as you were about to crash land on the couch, there was almost frantic knocking. It was hard to tell if the person on the other side was nervous or if it was supposed to be urgent.

"Klaus?" You looked up at him, "What are you doing here? Did I forget to do some paperwork or something?"

"No, not at all [Name]." Klaus shifted a little, "I do apologize for forgetting your birthday. I'm ashamed to admit that I had completely forgotten."

You stepped back, gesturing for Klaus to come in, "That's fine, today's been so much busier than normal so there wasn't much that could be done."

"Still..." Klaus turned, "I should have remembered the birthday of such a dear friend."

"We were busy all day, there wasn't much anyone could do." You were slightly stung by being called a friend, but... "You don--!"

Unable to even blink, let alone register that Klaus was right in your face... kissing you. His hands resting on your waist, slowly closing the gap between the two of you. You had to cling to Klaus, unable to tell if your feet were still on the ground.

The slight breath as Klaus eased up, a dark shade of red across his face, "I... I do apologize for not asking first but... I... I've wanted to do that for quite some time now. Considering how... Everything..."

"Please," You tugged on his arm slightly, "Don't apologize..."

[trillscienceofficer]

These tags from @avoicefromthestars reminded me that I've seen this post a few times today and, well. B'Elanna/Seven is just dynamic number 2. The stars would have to align in very specific ways for them to even just move beyond their past interactions into something less fraught. And I completely agree that it has to start from Seven because honestly B'Elanna is completely justified in just not giving her the time of day, with the way Seven behaves towards her (eg the going behind her back wrt work and the whole “Someone To Watch Over Me” cold open debacle, for which Seven never apologized). And after that just... their numerous issues, which they are badly equipped to deal with on their own and I doubt they would magically get better at if they got closer. I think the potential for radical self-discovery is there (it's what I love most about this pairing) but it requires a lot of commitment to working together, on both sides, to get to that point. It is a massively canon-divergent scenario, at the very least.

Honestly sometimes I reread my fic(s) and go 'well I've made the getting together waaay too easy', which is fine for the genre it is I suppose. But I also think that this ship deserves more than the few tropes I know how to throw at them. It Really Could Be That Deep, with enough care; any attempt at truly doing justice to both B'Elanna and Seven though makes me second-guess myself and my enthusiasm for this pairing a lot. There's such a huge gap to bridge between them.

[drazzilder]

Gerudo Gems

Chapter 1: Interview

Zelda wakes up startled that the sun is coming in through the gaps in her blinds. Panic sets in; her alarm didn’t go off and she is going to be late for the big day. “Not today!” she screams internally knowing that the interview is today. Like a tornado, she flies through her apartment at break neck speed getting ready for the day. She even forgoes most of her make-up to save precious minutes to make. Rushing out the door, she decides to take the stairs instead of fighting for the elevator.

Once outside, real panic sets in. “How am I going to get to the building in time?!” She is about to hyperventilate when she notices a black limo waiting outside with a familiar face opening the rear door. 

“How did I know?” the tall woman rolls her eyes and smiles at Zelda. 

Zelda is about to get mad for Impa being right and a little sassy; but, she is to relieve to be any other than happy right now. “Thank you Impa!” is all she can blurt out before running into the back of the limo. It only takes a few moments before Impa is making the limo fly through the tight streets of New York. She has lived there long enough to know all the shortcuts and how to drive with all of the other traffic. It is like the limo is dancing between the other cars at points. 

They are almost there when Zelda speaks again. “I hope my father didn’t set you up to do this.”

Impa smiles and looks at her in the rearview mirror. “Not at all. I just knew.” This statement makes Zelda’s face turn a hue redder in embracement. It is only a few moments longer than they arrived at the front of the interview location. The building is massive, at least 80 stories tall. Clad in glass and gilded with accents of gold. “GG” in fancy script adorns the awning above the massive guarded doors. Zelda rushes out, forgetting to say good bye to Impa but she knows that she will apologize for it later. She approaches the doormen and they open the doors for her without question. 

Inside the building, the panic sets back in as she tries to locate the elevators knowing her interview is at the 78th floor. After asking the front desk and pointed into the right direction, she arrives at the 3 elevators that go to the top. Two of the elevators state floors above 50, while the middle one is just about to close. Slamming her hand into the closing doors, Zelda makes it just in time. 

“I am sorry to barge in like that but I am going to be late. Please forgive me.” When she looks up, she goes white realizing who she is in the elevator with. It is Ganondorf Dragmire, the founder and CEO of Gerudo Gems. He is a giant, well over 8 feet tall, if not 9 feet tall, with a very stern looking resting face. Wearing a navy pin stripe suit, his stare isn’t even blocked behind his glasses. Finally, just like the rest of his look, his crimson hair is perfectly in place with a braid that goes down half way down his back. 

As Zelda is staring, she notices Ganondorf’s mouth moving. She swears he is speaking but she can’t hear anything over her internal panic. Noticing he is pointing towards the elevator buttons; she realizes he is asking her what floor. She can barely blurt out “78” and then goes back to panicking. The large man presses the button and the doors close. The ride feels like an eternity as it begins moving. Every ding of the floor going by is reminding Zelda how long she has been standing next to the man. Forgetting to breath, she is feeling more and more faint until the door finally opens on her floor. 

Urbosa, standing next to her office door, looks up when she hears the elevator opening. Her normally very stoic, cool completion changes rapidly to panic when she notices a young lady, who she presumes is her interviewee, is standing next to Ganondorf. The CEO places a hand on the door to hold it open for the young lady and she barrels out of there. Once the doors close behind her, she gasps for air as she is holding her chest trying to relax after that ordeal. 

Zelda suddenly has a hand or her back and looks up to see Urbosa Naboris trying to comfort her. She is intimating in stature but her face is very calming and loving, almost motherly, to Zelda. “I am sorry you had to deal with him, I usually wait a few weeks to introduce anyone to Ganon, but I guess you got to meet him a little early.” She helps Zelda walks to her office, sits her down, and hands her a glass of water. “How did you end up in the elevator together?” 

Zelda lowers the glass from her face and speaks meekly “I’m sorry Ms. Naboris. I was running late so I went into the first elevator I saw.” 

“Not many would survive an elevator encounter with him let alone willing go into the one he is riding.” Urbosa states as if it is common knowledge in the business. 

“I didn’t know he was there. Luckily, he didn’t really do or say anything, just asked what floor I was on and held the door for me when I got off.” she stares at the floor, thinking back to the encounter. 

“He pushed the button for you? He doesn’t even do that for me!” Urbosa’s tone sounds annoyed. “I can’t believe that…. He must like you or something.” She sighs. “Sorry to be abrupt, but let’s get on with the interview, I have a tight schedule today. Do you have a copy of your resume?” 

Zelda nods and reaches into her bag only to go pale when her hand grazes the bottom. As she is feeling around again, she remembers that she left her resume by her apartment door. “I…..I….. I don’t…..I am so sorry. I forgot it at home.” Panic starts to set in again but when Zelda looks up, she doesn’t see disappointment or angry. She sees a calming demeanor as Urbosa looks at her computer screen. 

“Not the biggest deal in the world. I have a copy from HR right here. I just like to see if you are prepared or not.” She turns to look at Zelda and her tone changes. “Normally this would immediately disqualify you.” Zelda clenches her bag straps and is about to cry. “But…” her tone goes back to that calm, almost motherly, tone again. “Not many would stand a chance next to Ganon or even getting in the same elevator with him. I’ll admit it here right on the spot. I know you are qualified but I am also interested. Ganon saw something I didn’t, and I curious to what. His choices are never questioned and if he acted like that around you, there must be something special.” 

“I got the job?!” Zelda practically screams.

Urbosa gets up. “Yes, and you start tomorrow.” She puts her hand out to, what Zelda assumes, is to shake her hand. In reality, it turns into a hug. “Please get some rest and come tomorrow better prepared. I will email you a list everything you will need.” Zelda thanks her profusely as she heads out and heads towards the elevator. “Oh, Zelda.” Zelda turns around. “Do be careful about which elevator you go on from now on.” 

[silverloreley]

Assuming the barrier doesn't completely nullify her powers (can even the barrier fully block elemental magic given by the Arendelle spirits?) & Elsa still has trouble controlling them, Bruno could probably actually help with that, since Elsa's power is similar to Pepa's (weather controlled by emotions) & he & Juli knew how to calm her down. & if the barrier does block it fully, then maybe he can help once she gets off/the barrier breaks & she can use her magic again and has no idea how to.

We know the Barrier lets some magic happen in minor ways, yet I'm still not certain Bruno could help Elsa that much, as we saw Pepa's control isn't that good even as an adult. After all, "think of clear skies" is only marginally better than "conceal don't feel". That doesn't mean Bruno wouldn't try, and taking her mind off the dark thoughts would help a bit. They have about a ten years age gap (Elsa was crowned at 21, Bruno must have been 30-something when he was sentenced) so he may feel like a big brother towards her, if given the chance (most likely after Cruella kicked him out, in my AU).

The problem wouldn't be as massive as on the outside anyway, as the Barrier is made specifically to block aggressive magic, so what we saw (Maleficent and Mal's glowing eyes, the Faciliers using shadows...) are minor things. Elsa probably only has an air of coldness around her body, can't suffer from the cold herself, and perhaps, in really extreme distress, freezes a bit (enough to shock an attacker, not enough for real harm), while Bruno likely has some strong feelings when something is about to happen, a vague precognitive ability, nothing more. He could barely explain his full prophecies, let alone those vague feelings. Nothing worrisome, so.

I think, out of everyone, the two of them would be actually relieved of being under the Barrier: it got rid of the worst parts of their curses and they could live a normal-ish life. At first. But I have this - honestly hurtful - theory about repressed magic becoming a problem in the long run.

Once the Barrier is gone, though? Well the two of them would have a really bad day. All of sudden, Bruno is overwhelmed by predictions that stayed dormant, while Elsa panics about having her magic again and panic becomes a snowstorm. Unless someone is there to calm her down or taught her more about magic in the meantime, of course (in any version of my au she married a magician, so he knew how to guide her and explain to her things about how magic works).

Once out for good, things would be lots better, especially because Elsa wouldn't be so tense after knowing Anna 100% forgave her and loves her still and she had been pardoned. Bruno would still have some hesitations, but he too would receive a pardon - in fact, an official apology from his wrongful imprisonment, as Ben realized there had been lots of those - and counseling with magicians that would clear the neutral nature of his visions.

There would be a moment, though, when things would feel weird and they'd need to support each other for something unexpected, which is when Carlos poked a hole in the Barrier (in book 1) and some magic came back/was unlocked. An event minor enough not to cause serious harm, yet a reminder their magic was still there, ready to be unleashed again. It would have been a moment of crisis for both, one they had to support each other to go through as no one else could quite understand that no, they didn't think their magic being back was a good feeling. (Now, if you excuse me, I have to go and try to write this bit, lol. Feel free to do too, I'd love to see your take of the issue!)

[michaelnothing]

Once upon a time, in an eccentric town nestled deep within a dense forest, there lived a peculiar man named Michael Nothing. Michael was a friendly yet mysterious character, perpetually clad in worn-out overalls and a wry smile on his face. However, his most notorious trait was not his attire or demeanor, but rather the immense and hairy pecker that protruded from his trousers.

This colossal appendage was the talk of the town, standing tall and proud with a mass of untamed hair covering its entirety. It had become something of a legend, whispered about in hushed tones, and the subject of many exaggerated tales amongst the townsfolk. Some claimed it possessed magical powers, while others considered it a curse bestowed upon Michael by some mischievous deity.

One sunny day, a rumor spread like wildfire through the town, claiming that Michael's massive pecker had a strange affinity for bear mouths. As preposterous as it sounded, it quickly captured the attention of the townspeople, who were always eager for a new spectacle. Curiosity got the better of them, and they eagerly awaited an opportunity to witness this bizarre occurrence firsthand.

Word reached the ears of a traveling circus, where a skillful bear trainer named Sergei happened to be passing through. Sergei had heard legends about Michael's unusual appendage and decided to venture into town to see if the tales held any truth.

As evening descended upon the town, the crowd gathered in hushed anticipation, eager to behold the seemingly impossible. Michael, aware of the spectacle that awaited, couldn't help but feel both amused and slightly embarrassed by the attention his peculiarity attracted.

Suddenly, the town square fell silent as the circus caravan arrived, accompanied by the magnificent bears under Sergei's command. The bears, adorned with sparks of curiosity themselves, were unaware of the extraordinary act that awaited them.

With a grand flourish, Sergei introduced the bears to Michael, who stood resolute, bashful yet determined. The moment had arrived for the peculiar prophecies to be tested. Would Michael's enormous, hairy pecker truly have a mystifying power over bear mouths?

A hush fell over the crowd as Michael let out a deep breath, and with a gentle gesture, he revealed his pecker to the bears. The magnificent creatures observed it, sniffing and nudging it out of fascination, but nothing extraordinary occurred. The rumors seemed to be just that – rumors.

Michael, slightly disappointed, gave a sheepish smile to the crowd, apologizing for any false expectations. But before he could complete his apology, one of the bears stood upright and let out a deep growl.

Enigmatic tendrils of energy crackled through the air, and the unimaginable happened. The bear's mouth began morphing, elongating into a captivating mix of human lips and a bear's muzzle. A spectacle of transformation unfolded before the astonished eyes of everyone present, defying all logic and reason.

Gasps filled the air as the bear, now bearing a magnificent yet surreal hybrid mouth, leaned closer towards Michael's pecker. And then, with a delicate touch, they connected—a mesmerizing union between a bear's newfound mouth and Michael's prodigious appendage.

The crowd erupted into applause, shock, and sheer delight as the bears lined up eagerly to experience the captivating connection themselves. Michael, still somewhat bewildered, realized the true wonder his uniqueness held—the ability to bridge the gap between the human and animal world.

From that day forward, the townspeople celebrated Michael Nothing and his hairy pecker, not for the absurdity it appeared, but for the incredible bond it fostered. Word of the magical connection spread far and wide, attracting visitors from distant lands who sought solace in the extraordinary harmony between the human and animal realms.

And so, in that peculiar town, amidst the whispering forests, a legend was born, reminding everyone that sometimes, the most astonishing gifts can emerge from the most unexpected places.