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lapseudosphere · 5 months ago
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9. Cover-up américain (pseudossier : le phénomène ovni)
À lire avant pour ne pas être trop perdu :
1. Petit historique - Partie 1
Pseudocomplément : l'affaire Roswell
2. Petit historique - Partie 2
3. Petit historique - Partie 3
4. Caractéristiques générales
5. Comportement et lieux d'intérêt
6. Troisième type
Pseudocomplément : le mystère Oummo
7. Abductions
8. Multiples interprétations
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Je remercie les chercheuses et chercheurs cité·e·s dans ce pseudossier pour leurs travaux. Pour réaliser ce pseudossier, je me suis appuyé sur des films documentaires, des interviews vidéos, des ouvrages, des articles de presse ou de sites internet. Je remercie les pseudosphéristes passionnés qui en sont à l’origine.
Principales pseudosources :
Canular d'Orson Welles : https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Guerre_des_mondes_(radio,_1938)
Habilitation au secret et projet Manhattan : François Parmentier, 60 ans de désinformation, Éditions du Rocher, 2004 (page 101) https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_S._Truman https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Projet_Manhattan
Espionnage nucléaire : https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Espionnage_nucl%C3%A9aire
Documents déclassifiés de 1947 : Gildas Bourdais, OVNIS : vers la fin du secret ?, Éditions Le Temps Présent, 2010 (pages 13 à 18)
Enquêtes et commissions de l'armée de l'Air des États-Unis sur le phénomène ovni (Sign, Grudge, Blue Book, Robertson, Condon) : https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Objet_volant_non_identifi%C3%A9 François Parmentier, 60 ans de désinformation, Éditions du Rocher, 2004 (pages 204 à 208)
Documents déclassifiés concernant le survol de sites militaires sensibles et d'installations nucléaires : Jean Gabriel Greslé, Documents interdits - La fin d'un secret, Éditions Dervy (revue et augmentée), 2020 (pages 61 à 76)
Désinformation de l'US Air Force envers le FBI : Jean Gabriel Greslé, Documents interdits - La fin d'un secret, Éditions Dervy (revue et augmentée), 2020 (pages 41 à 59)
Projet Blue Book : https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Projet_Livre_Bleu
Edward Ruppelt et le Carrousel de Washington : https://www.wikiwand.com/en/1952_Washington,_D.C.,_UFO_incident https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_J._Ruppelt
Commission Robertson : (en Anglais) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robertson_Panel Jean Gabriel Greslé, Documents interdits - La fin d'un secret, Éditions Dervy (revue et augmentée), 2020 (pages 109 à 115)
Circulaires AF 200-2 et Janap 146 : Egon Kragel et Yves Couprie, Ovnis - Enquête sur un secret d'États, Éditions Le cherche midi, 2010 (pages 63 à 66) François Parmentier, 60 ans de désinformation, Éditions du Rocher, 2004 (page 103)
Débuts de l'ufologie privée et NICAP : https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Investigations_Committee_On_Aerial_Phenomena https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donald_Keyhoe
Rapport Condon : (en Anglais) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Condon_Committee Egon Kragel et Yves Couprie, Ovnis - Enquête sur un secret d'États, Éditions Le cherche midi, 2010 (pages 106 - 107) François Parmentier, 60 ans de désinformation, Éditions du Rocher, 2004 (pages 137 - 138)
Loi FOIA : https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freedom_of_Information_Act François Parmentier, 60 ans de désinformation, Éditions du Rocher, 2004 (page 34) Egon Kragel et Yves Couprie, Ovnis - Enquête sur un secret d'États, Éditions Le cherche midi, 2010 (pages 24 - 25)
NSA et refus de divulgation : François Parmentier, 60 ans de désinformation, Éditions du Rocher, 2004 (page 91 - 92)
Observation de Dan Kimball : François Parmentier, 60 ans de désinformation, Éditions du Rocher, 2004 (pages 192 - 193) http://www.nicap.org/reports/kimball_swords.htm
Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton et Roswell : François Parmentier, 60 ans de désinformation, Éditions du Rocher, 2004 (pages 195 - 202) (en anglais) Chaine de Paul Robinson, Bill Clinton in talks about Roswell in Belfast 1995 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSMhNk8wSng)
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sayruq · 9 months ago
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This is huge. Apartheid South Africa collapsed largely because other countries didn't want anything to do with it (some were forced to take that position by the BDS movement)
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arabian-batboy · 1 year ago
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Woke up to the beautiful news of Palestinians in Gaza stripe (over 70% of whom are refugees forced to live in Gaza after being ethnically cleansed from other parts of Palestine by Israel) breaking out of the illegal Israeli blockade on them for the first time in almost 2 decades and reclaiming stolen Palestinian land for the first time in 7 decades while making the illegal settlers squatting in Palestinian houses rush to the airport and fly back to their home countries that they came to Palestine from in the first place or hide in the trash container where they belong.
They did all of this without having a formal military and reusing Israeli weapons that were used against them and I know without a doubt that hypocritical western media and politicians will come out with fake crocodile tears to show sympathy to Israel and claim that they have the right to defend themselves against "terrorist" Palestinians, even though what is happening to them today isn't a fraction to what they have been doing to Palestinians for 70 years straight and that if anyone is defending themselves here, its the refugees forced to live in the world's biggest open-air prison, not their occupiers.
I don't know what will happens next, I wouldn't be surprised if Israel used their funded-with-billions-from-the-US military power to steal back all the land Palestinians reclaimed, re-install the apartheid wall to continue the illegal blockade on Gaza as well as perform collective-punishment on as many Palestinian civilians as possible as revenge on the humiliation they suffered, all while calling themselves the victims and the people they're killing/occupying the terrorists.
Either ways today was a big day in the decolonization of Palestine and a huge blow to the settler-colony of Israel's regime and ego, hopefully it will encourage some of the settler to leave Palestine for good and discourage new settlers from coming to Palestine from other parts of the world.
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Palestinians made a document that contains templates for letters to US, UK, & Canadian politicians, media outlets, and companies in relation to current events in Palestine as well as petitions & other resources. If you live in any of these countries then please select a template, edit it to your preference and send according to the instructions on the relevant page.
Here is a link to it (please share it): https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-RUOHHiEtr7uoclQgWN-tCWOihnHIp5hym89aNePi_E/mobilebasic
Aside from that, please protest, support the BDS boycott and spread awareness as much as possible.
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zevrra · 12 days ago
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Oh, Teacher —ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
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✩𝐬𝐲𝐧: you’ve been failing to pay attention in class & your grades are starting to slip…no worries, your professor has offered to help you. (ft. coach toji.)
✩𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: smüt, pw/op, plot if you squint, modern au, teacher au, multi-paragraphs, CONSENSUAL!!, everything is consensual, age-gap, fem!reader, reader is 21(+), other characters involved are in their early 30s, except toji he's in his late 30s, established relationships, fem giving öral, v penetration, punishment, cöckwarming, dirty talk, spänking, strict discipline, light chöking, deep throat, hair pulling, degradation, praise, däcrycilia, sir kïnk, mention of gagging, bd/sm themes, blindfold, pain inflicted, böndage.
✩𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: find more of my jjk works here <3
✩𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚: lowkey didn’t proofread this so forgive me for mistakes jshsjxh but i may or may not turn this into a mini hookup series hmm…anyway, likes and reblogs are appreciated! ♡
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𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 !!
"professor..." you softly whine as your hips wiggle, seeking for any kind of friction you can get.
you’ve been bent over mr. gojo’s desk, skirt flipped up, while his fingers run circles along the back of your thigh, for a little longer than you would’ve liked. you had shamefully been caught slipping on your grades and while you thought your professor offering to tutor you would be a great idea, you did not think he would…punish you during your study session.
“nope, no moving. answer the question.” satoru says as his free hand grabs your hip and forces you down against his desk. demanding you to focus on your studies while he got to enjoy the show. his fingers worked on fingering your pussy ever so slowly. he wanted to edge you, give you no real satisfaction until you answered his question correctly.
you bite back a groan, barking out the answer to his question and praying it’s right. thankfully, it is. which means you get a small reward. gojo licks his lips from his position above you as his hand slips from your waist to mess with the buckle on his belt. “good. next question.” he instructs as you simply listen to his belt slide across the pants he wears. before hearing it clatter against the floor you barely manage to touch with the tips of your toes.
you tremble beneath his gaze and touch. the press of his cock head against your already drooling pussy had you moaning in anticipation. eagerly now with the thought of him fucking you, you stutter an answer out as quickly as you can. “good.” you hear him sigh sweetly behind you before he slams deep inside of you, hips connecting with your ass in one fell swoop. the motion forces you up further onto his desk, your fingernails dig into the oak wood as you gasp for air at the sudden intrusion. a broken cry falls from your lips as his cock buries deep inside of you.
now you so badly want him to move. feel the burn and the stretch of his thick cock inside of you. fuckfuckfuck, you needed him to move. tears spring into your eyes as you whimper and try to move your hips back against him, begging him with no words to fuck you. but once again his hands find your hips and firmly pin you to his desk as he stays still.
“nuh uh, no squirming. you’re gonna answer every question with my cock inside of you until you get every. single. one. right.” satoru’s states with a colder tone than his usual cheerful voice, making a promise of what’s to come.
what feels like hours later of edging and sitting still on his cock, answering these stupid ass questions, every inch of your lower half is starting to feel swollen and entirely full. your hands and knees are entirely too weak so you lay flat, limp against his desk; while his hands continue to hold your hips tightly. solely to keep your bodies connected but not allowing you to move and seek the pleasure you want so badly.
and you swear at some point you’ll end up cross eyed and drooling from him just sitting, unmoving inside of you. you don’t know why or how but your entire body is far more sensitive than usual. far needier and hungrier than ever before. it had to be something about sitting on his cock, stiff and under his total control, that made your entire body so reactive to the point you could feel your pussy drip with slick between your thighs.
“answer right now or i’m pulling out and going home.” satoru threatens with a snarl, ripping you out of your dazed state. you gasp at the harsh words your lover speaks. he had never been this harsh with you before…and why did you like it so much
you’re thankful this is the last question, anymore and you might not be able to stay sane. you don’t want him to leave though so you pathetically stutter out any answer that comes to your head. while he doesn’t answer you, you can feel the drag of his cock as it begins to leave your core; a wrong answer. you scramble, tears falling across your cheeks, nails dig into the wood even more as you try your best to keep him inside. “n-no! no wait please i’m! nooo no, it’s!” you beg while you whimper the correct answer to his question.
he stops, stilling himself with half of his cock still inside your drooling pussy, as a hand reaches down to spread your lips even further. “pathetic. your pussy is sucking on me so much. can’t live without my cock can you? you’d be so stupid without it wouldn’t you?” gojo laughs, watching your slick drip from around his shaft. his hand finally moves from his bruising grip on your hip to grab a hand full of the back of your hair, tilting your head back and forcing you once more to focus on him. “now, my good little girl, the study guide needs some work. get these last few questions right and I’ll finally give you a reward.”
a whiney, breathless moan breaks from your lips but you smile at the thought of finally having satoru fuck your puffy, achy pussy. “yesh…professor.” you giggle, drunk on lust and wanting nothing more than the man inside of you to remind you why he was the one in charge.
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𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 !!
you had not studied for this damn test one bit. having been preoccupied with literally anything else going on in your busy life, not to mention seeing professor nanami in a more…mature setting, it was hard to even think about studying.
so the day of the test, you wear an outfit you know he loves. a cream colored, off the shoulder sweater, paired with a cotton beige skirt. thigh high white leg warmers to match your top with pretty doll like black shoes. for an added touch you wear the earrings he had secretly gotten you as a gift along with an exquisite perfume that you knew he loved as well. a sweet but classy smell, vanilla and bourbon. hoping that all of this may get you an easy a.
and from the moment you walk into the lecture hall, nanami’s gaze finds you immediately. you know he stares at you as you walk to your usual seat, somewhere in the middle of the room, all the while his eyes never leave you. you make sure to tease him just a little more by bending over and fixing your rolled up leg warmer. once you settle into your seat, laptop set up, you finally bring your gaze to him, flashing an “innocent” smile at your lover. who has to rip his gaze away from you as class begins.
the entirety of class he ignores your general direction. orders for everyone to go to the correct website link for the test as he hides behind his podium the entire time. throughout the test you made sure to look over at him when you knew he was glancing at you for another little taste. making sure to catch his gaze, shifting your legs and squeezing your thighs together while he watched you until his neck flushed red and he had to busy himself with other work. and while you did attempt to try on the test, even knowing you’re more or less likely going to get a failing grade, you knew your little plan was working as well.
after you turn in your test, you busy yourself with some other homework, continuing your little cat and mouse game with your teacher before class finally drags to an end. at the end of the few hours he dismisses everyone but you. you watch everyone else leave, waving goodbye to a few friends and telling them you’d meet up later, before making your way into your professor’s office where he waits.
“you’re playing dirty. why.” nanami demands as he shuts and locks the door behind you. circling you like a man in heat as he rolls his sleeves up onto his forearms.
“i forgot to study,” you admit truthfully, moving to sit on top of his desk just as he moves to stand before you. “i’ll do anything you want just…give me the good grade baby.” you mutter as you grab ahold of his tie and twirl it between your fingers.
his arms stay crossed over his chest, irritated by you forgetting to study but the promise of doing whatever he wanted had his interests peaked. especially as his hazel eyes rake over your outfit and your body, staring a little too long at your shoulders and the gap between where your skirt lays and your stockings sit. to persuade him a little further you yank against his tie, forcing him to lay his palms out flat against his desk on either sides of your thighs. “pretty please professor?” you mumble sweetly as he gets closer to you. where he can definitely smell the sweet vanilla bourbon on your skin.
you could practically see the gears whirring in overtime in his head. but ultimately, your plan wins, and he sighs a heavy sigh. “fine.” he says as one of his hands move to settle on your thigh, slowly pushing up beneath your skirt. “but don’t get too excited. i’m punishing you for forgetting to study too.” he adds as his other hand moves to begin to undo his tie.
honestly you didn’t think he was serious when he said he would punish you but here you were now, bent over his desk with his tie being used as a makeshift blindfold while his belt keeps your hands tied behind your back. nanami has stripped you of your shoes and skirt; leaving you in just your stockings, pretty underwear, and your top.
you moan as nanami’s fingers rubs up against your wet core, slides his fingers easily against the fabric of your panties. “keep your voice down or i’m shoving these into your mouth.” kento instructs and you bite your bottom lip in return as his fingers hook around the edge of your underwear and he yanks them down to your ankles.
he runs both hands up from the back of your calves and thighs, grabbing your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. before unexpectedly, nanami with his bare hand smacks against your ass; not hard but not very soft either as he tests the waters. you gasp harshly, body tensing under the spank. and while you may not be able to see your eyes still widen under your blindfold.
“repeat after me,” kento states, with another smack to your ass, in a tone you’re unfamiliar with but nonetheless it turns you on. can feel your pussy beginning to drool. “i will study for my tests.”
you grunt at the tingling pain spreading across your skin. “i will…” you begin, another smack to your plump cheeks, the pain and pleasure making your toes and body jerk. your breathing becoming ragged in just a few short seconds. “study for my…tests.” you finish.
satisfied with your words, kento moves his hand to your now soaking core, pressing a single finger inside. he slowly starts to finger you now. pressing another finger inside with a slight curl to both, making you shudder and gasp once again, before he removes his fingers altogether. another smack to your ass has you jolting, fighting against your bounds. “again. say it again.”
you repeat his words again, smack, repeats, fingers inside, repeat, smack. like clockwork he edges and spanks you for what feels like forever. you can’t see him but you somehow know he’s lovingly staring at the red blooming across your skin, turning him on even more. his thumb pulls your skin taunt, showing him more of your leaking cunt and how it drools even with just a little pain and pleasure. he wants to fuck you so bad but no— this was your punishment and he’d make sure to teach you a lesson.
you’re getting too loud and whiney for him now though so he does as he promises; your panties are stuffed into your mouth to keep you quiet. you groan around the cloth while nanami adjusts you against his desk, preparing for his next move. he places a single kiss against the curve of your back before his fingers plunge into your pussy again, giving you new instructs; “you’re not allowed to cum, not until i say otherwise, understood darling?”
another moan is stifled in your mouth but you nod in agreement. willing yourself to not come until he says so, so that maybe you can get a reward for being such a good girl.
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𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 !!
he never wore a damn tie let alone a suit. how the hell were you supposed to focus on some silly little quiz when professor geto so confidently strutted around in the sexiest goddamn suit you’ve ever seen him in?
you had miserably bombed the quiz, even knew you were going to before he instructed everyone in the class to pick up their graded papers. and when he stopped you at his desk, a slight disappointed look on his handsome face, telling you to stay after class today, you knew you were in for some trouble.
after class, you find yourself following him into his office. thankfully, tucked away and out of view from any prying eyes. while his hands and kisses against your bare shoulders are gentle, his words and plans for you in the moment was anything but.
“you’re such a filthy slut. can’t focus on anything else when that pretty mind of yours thinks about my cock, huh?” your teacher muses, taking off his reading glasses and setting them on the desk before you. “failing the quiz today tsk tsk. can’t have that happening anymore so i’m going to teach you a lesson, ok princess?” geto mumbles against your shoulder now as his fingers work on tying the red bamboo rope around your wrist. tying you down to his large office chair with your legs spread wide open for him. securing you entirely and giving you not a single inch of wiggle room. he had previously stripped you of everything but the panties you wore, the pretty ones he had bought for you, exposing you in every way he could.
you nod sheepishly as he places a kiss against your temple. reminding you that he’s doing most of this out of pleasure and love but also that you needed a reminder of what came first, your studies.
you watch as suguru then pulls out a small vibrator and tapes it right up against your clit before stepping back to admire his work. you swallow as his eyes devour you oh so hungrily before he retrieves an old fashioned wooden ruler from his desk before turning to lean against said desk, gently tapping the wood against his palm. "this is how it will go. for every 3 questions you get right, i'll remove a single piece of clothing. but for every wrong question, well," geto hums as he twirls the ruler between his fingers. "now, let's get started."
you don’t know how long you’ve sat tied to his damn office chair, sitting in your own slick with the reddest of thighs while your professor stood before you in just his slacks and long sleeved shirt now. it felt like an eternity being at his whim while he stood all with a smile as he leaned against his desk. “you gonna fuckin’ answer me pretty girl?” he asks, ruler tapping against his fingertips.
you stare up at him with wet eyes, body trembling from the pain and the pure pleasure you were feeling. the vibrator on your pussy barely gives you any sort of satisfaction on the lowest setting. it was just enough to make you uncomfortable and needy all in the same breath. “mphm! uh, it’s this right?” you ask, entirely unsure of yourself.
the blunt side of the ruler slaps against your thigh with a good amount of weight behind it. wrong answer.
you can’t help but throw your head back as pain jolts along your entire thigh but your pussy drools in response. whimper after whimper leaks from your lips as you listen to your professor chuckle softly.
“one more wrong answer and i’m putting my jacket back on.” geto hums as his purple gaze stares down at you. you can’t hold back a harsh moan as the tip of his ruler pushes against the vibrator against your clit, giving you just the slightest bit of satisfaction to your aching cunt. “disgusting. you’re enjoying this too much ya know? you’re soaking through my damn chair.” he adds with a dark chuckle before leaning back away from you.
“s-sorry professor geto…” you whimper as you come down from your pain/pleasure filled jolt. shivering under his gaze but you manage to give him a different answer, this time it’s correct. thankfully you watch now as geto begins to take off his white dress shirt, watching as he unbuttons every button as slow as he fucking can to further tease you.
when he finally sheds his shirt and drops it on top of his desk, revealing his fairly toned, tattooed body, you groan at the sight. you wanted, no needed him so badly now. and could he really blame you for not being able to think straight when he looked so fucking good? looked better than any man you’ve ever seen before! how could you not be distracted by him and the thought of him fucking you every time you saw him?
he takes two small steps before he's standing just inches from you. his free hand smooths against your hair before he's gathering up a fist full of it between his fingers, gripping your hair hard enough to rip your head back. he smiles all too sweet down at you as the ruler he holds in his other hand presses against the line of your jaw. "finish the rest of the quiz with all right answers and i'll give you what thay pathetic pussy of yours wants." suguru hums with a soft smile.
hearts in your eyes, you nod all too eagerly to your lover. mouth threatening to drool just like the way your pussy between yours thighs does with the promise of what's to come next. and god, even with the pain you couldn't fucking wait.
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𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 !!
"you've been too stiff and unfocused recently. what's gotten into ya?" your coach asks with a deep frown. standing before you with his thick arms crossed over his even thicker chest.
you pout, eyes peering up at him through pretty lashes as you sit inside his office. how the hell were you supposed to tell him the reason you had been so distracted recently during practices was because you couldn't stop thinking about him. thinking about his strong hands on your thighs or his lips kissing down your tummy before sucking on your clit with your fingers in his hair. or the thought of him cradling your head with the crook of his arm, bicep flexing against your throat as he thrusts into your core with what you assume has to be the biggest dicks you've ever had before.
no way, you couldn't tell him.
coach toji clears his throat, ripping you out of the thoughts you've been struggling with for what feels like weeks now. "uh...sorry coach, i'm not sure..." you lie as you fidget with the hem of your athletic shorts, praying he couldn’t tell that you were lying through your damn teeth.
yet green eyes stare down at you, staring straight through your lie, before toji sighs and moves to his office door. where he closes it, locks it with an echoing click, and draws the curtains closed so no one can see inside.
when toji returns to your side, you expect him to disappointingly scold you for your absent mind, instead a strong hand grabs hold of your shoulder before smoothing against the back of your neck; where his fingers ever so gently squeeze. "you need a little help loosening up?" toji hums with a devious tone to his voice.
but his words only help in stilling you even more, further stiffening your body under his touch. wait, what? were you day-dreaming again? or were you having some depraved wet dream? did your coach just imply what you think he was implying?
"i see the way you look at me brat," your coach huffs with a villainous smirk as his thumbs hooks under your jaw and forces you to look up at him. "lying to me like you're not thinking about me fucking that wet cunt of yours, yeah? seems like someone needs to be punished."
yep. definitely a dream.
your head spins at his words, forcing you to suck in a dizzying breath while his thumb smears over your partially opened lips. “planning to lie anymore?” toji asks with a tilt to his head.
you scan his face, trying to figure out if this really was a dream or some sick fucking prank you would shamelessly never let down. but nope…he’s dead serious. waiting for you to answer him. “n-no coach—“ you begin but he cuts you off, pressing his thumb roughly against your bottom lip as his giant hand grabs ahold of your jaw to stop you from speaking.
“sir.” he instructs with a dangerous glint to his eyes. “not coach. it’s sir. understood?” he adds before his hand slips away from your lips just a little, allowing you the chance to speak once again.
“yes…sir.” you mutter with a dazed look.
your answer pleases him as he brushes his hand gently over your face now. thumb returning to pluck at your bottom lip and he pulls it ever so slightly, smiling down at you. “now let’s use that pretty little mouth of yours for some good.”
no fucking way this was happening right now. your mind ran a mile a minute as you kneel before toji, hands tied to your ankles, bound behind your back with some rope he managed to find inside his office. kneeling at perfect height to line right up at his waist where you watch as he pridefully yanks down the gray sweatpants he wears. and you were right. staring you in the face was the biggest cock you’ve ever seen. all those sleepless nights and day dreams about him proved to be somewhat useful. yet you gulp at the sight now, truly worried how painful he was going to be and it certainly had you a little nervous.
toji must notice your hesitation for he laughs at your gasping right as he lifts his hand and spits into it. using his spit to stroke across the thick of his shaft, beginning to wet his cock. after a few strokes he holds his fingers out to you and without saying a word presses them into your mouth. you grunt at the intrusion of thick fingers but do your best to suck on them. getting just a small taste as to what’s to come and it made your pussy throb. just as you’re enjoying sucking on his slick fingers he retrieves them and steps up close to you. grabbing the base of his cock and using the head to slap against your wet mouth.
“not gonna stop even if you cry.” toji promises before his hips snap forward and more than half of his cock disappears into your mouth.
you gag as his cock spears into your mouth. tears immediately spring into the corners of your eyes as you basically choke on his shaft. your body tenses and jerks, hands flexing against your bounds to try and wiggle free but it does nothing but push you further down onto his shaft. you struggle to breathe through your nose but toji is anything but gentle as you try and adjust to his girth. he grabs a handful of your hair and forces you to swallow him all the way down to the base of his cock. your nose is pressed against his abdomen and with your hands bound; you’re at his total mercy.
tears finally break free and stream down your cheeks as you choke on toji’s cock. spit bubbles up at the corners of your mouth as you gag around his base while the rest of his cock sits in the back of your throat. you whimper with your mouth entirely full but you'd be lying if you said you didn't fucking love this. his taste, his smell, the hand gripping your hair, his dark gaze staring down at you as he stuffs your mouth full, every sensation made your pussy drip.
toji notices your eyes roll back up into your head for he slowly pulls you off of his cock to allow you to breathe for a moment. your lips are already slightly puffy and your jaw is already beginning to ache but toji looks at you with a pretty glint to his eyes and you know you’re gonna give your everything to the man. “you’re doing so good, doll. ready for more?” he asks, tapping the tip of his cock on your lips once again.
you smile wickedly up at him, biting your bottom lip ever so slightly before nodding, sticking the tip of your tongue out and giving his head a lick. “mhm…yes sir.”
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lirotation · 3 days ago
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Astarion in Cyberpunk AU
POV: How you met him in Night City =P
You’re just another low-tier merc in Night City's meat grinder, same as any other. Sure, you smoke, you chug whatever synthalcohol gets your synapses sparking, maybe pop a little Black Lace now and then for kicks. But one thing you don’t do? Pick up joytoys from Jig-Jig. Nah, choom. Not your scene.
Until tonight's clusterfuck.
You were on a gig, dressed to fool the corpo crowd—chrome hidden under slick, expensive synth-leather. Playing at being one of Night City's untouchables. Then your optics lock onto him.
A joytoy, but not just any joytoy. Lux-grade. The kind of beauty that made your targeting systems glitch and your tits perk up. Picking him up wasn’t the plan—never the plan—but here you are, trying to blend in, figuring if all these suits are doing it, maybe you should too.
Preem bastard had a silver tongue worth more than his chrome, smooth like pre-War whiskey. He leaned in close, casually dropped the very intel you need - an exclusive corpo mixer, one hosting Kong Tao mid-level procurement officer - your target - fresh from Guangzhou. The two of you hit it off, chatting over overpriced drinks at the bar, and one thing led to another. His place.
Then you wake up.
Your choom on the other end of the link, screaming. Your brain feels like it’s been through a shredder. You’re sprawled out on some piss-stained mattress, butt naked, weapons gone.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
You’ve been played. Conned. During a job, no less. Just your fucking luck.
Gotta escape before they rip you open, gotta figure out where the hell you are. But one thing’s for sure—you’re gonna find that pretty bastard, and when you do, he’s got a world of hurt coming his way. _______
Your head’s pounding, but you’ve been in tighter spots before. You force a reboot, running a quick scan. Typical corpo blacksite flophouse—The stink of blood, sweat, and bad decisions clings to the walls.
You find a rusted shard of metal and grip it tight. Better than nothing. You rigged the lock and slipped out of the room, the sound of your bare feet drowned out by the buzz of cheap fluorescents overhead.
The hall’s empty. Nobody watching the cams—amateurs. You find a storage room with your gear dumped in a corner like garbage. Your Militech pistol? Check. punknife? Check. Even your boots. Slipping them on feels like hugging an old friend.
Now clothed and armed, you should be bailing, cutting your losses. But the faint sound of muffled screams crawls under your skin, pulling you back into the fray.
You creep closer, the door half-open. Inside, him.
The joytoy. Astarion.
Strapped down like a Maelstrom test subject, neural wires spiderwebbing from his temples into some black-market brain-dance rig. The machine's whining like a dying cat, each pulse making him scream. Some chrome-headed ganger's working the controls, grinning like he's watching prime-time BD entertainment.
“Picked yourself a zero, didn't ya? No creds, no dirt—just a fucking merc with nothin’ to give. You are lucky boss is not in town.” the ganger sneers, twisting a dial, “What good’s a pretty face if it doesn’t deliver?”
Astarion convulses, tears streaking his otherwise flawless face, “I—tried,” he whispers.  "Please, give me another chance.”
Something snaps in your gut. You’ve seen people broken, but this guy? He’s built to endure. Still, this is next-level fucked.
Your blade whispers through the air, clean and silent. The ganger drops, and you catch the falling remote and cut the power to the rig.
Astarion slumps, breathing shallow. You free him, pulling the wires from his skin. He flinches but doesn’t resist.
“Can you walk?” you ask, dragging him to his feet.
He groans but nods. “I’ve had worse.”
The two of you fight your way out, bullets and curses flying. By the time you hit the street, you’re out of breath and out of ammo, but alive. Barely.
You lean against a wall, wiping blood off your hands. “I should fucking gut you for this,” you say, leveling him with a glare.
Astarion chuckles, though it’s more pained than amused. “I’m flattered. But I was under orders, if that softens the blow.”
“Doesn’t,” you snap.
Still, you don’t hurt him. Just turn to leave, figuring he’ll disappear back into whatever pit he crawled out of. But when you glance back, he’s trailing behind you.
“What are you doing?” you snap again, tired and still on edge.
“I have nowhere else to go,” he says softly, eyes downcast, his voice a quiet plea.
“Not my problem,” you grumble, turning to keep walking.
“Wait,” he calls out, stepping closer. When you face him again, the vulnerability in his posture is tinged with a familiar, deliberate charm. His lips curve into the barest hint of a smile. “I could… make it up to you.  I’m quite skilled at certain things”
You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That so? You think I’m just gonna take you in because you bat your lashes?”
“Not just because of that,” he murmurs, tilting his head just enough to catch the faint light. “I can be useful. I wasn't lying before, you know? the mixer? I can get you in.”
You pause, damn it he is beautiful. He shifts closer, his voice dipping into something silkier. “Let me stay, just for a while. I’ll keep out of your way. Or,” he adds, his smile sharpening ever so slightly, “if you’d rather, I could be very in your way. Whatever you prefer.”
You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Fine. One screw-up, though, and you’re out. Got it?”
“Crystal clear,” he purrs, bowing his head slightly. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”
As he falls into step beside you, you mutter under your breath. “Already regretting it.”
His soft chuckle is barely audible, but it lingers all the way home.
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desperatenymph · 6 months ago
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It makes me so pathetically wet when you're mean to me... I can't help but grind my desperate cunt on your boots while you berate me. I promise I'll apologise profusely even though ik you'll abuse me for talking...
I'm sorry 🥺 ... I'll do bette- *SLAP* "stfu bitch. You're nothing. Choke on this cock like an obedient cunt or I'll stop allowing you the privilege to breathe around my cock"
You're disgusting. I'm calling you all these mean names and you've made a mess of yourself.
"I can't help it 🥺🥺🥺" shut the fuck up, and suck this dick the way dumb little cunts like you ought to.
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goosewriting · 2 years ago
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Of bunk beds and confessions
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summary: when there’s a new crew member on the Mantis, reader feels discouraged to confess to Cal.
relationship: Cal Kestis x GN reader
warnings: slight spoilers for Jedi Fallen Order, dw it has a happy ending uvu
word count: 2.8k
A/N: recently finished JFO (finally! lol) and i have A Lot Of Feelings so, here you go
prompt used: hesitant kisses, but when they part one whispers "do it again. please."(source, by @urfriendlywriter)
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
— — —
You’re waiting on the Mantis with Cere and Greez for Cal to get back with the Astrium. You’re currently on Dathomir, and you’re not entirely sure what he had to do to get the thing, but he comm’d you some minutes ago saying he’s on his way back to you.
You stand at the top of the ship’s ramp, trying to see if you can see him somewhere. You’ve been worried out of your mind when he would send you short and clipped messages, telling you he had to fight some mysterious but apparently very powerful traveller he met on this planet. The whole place gave you the creeps; with the Nightsisters gone and all, it just felt like a hollow, haunted memory of a civilization. 
Despite everything being tinted red, from the rocky formations all the way up to the sky, your eyes catch a familiar flash of copper hair. Your head turns and you look out to Cal, who’s about to reach the ship. Only then do you finally allow yourself to breathe properly again. 
The thought crosses your mind that, with how worried you are when Cal’s gone, not knowing if it’s the last time you’ll see him when you wish the Force to be by his side as he leaves for several hours, only to come back all beat up… Maybe you should finally tell him how you feel. It’s a selfish thought, but you’re not sure how much longer your heart can take this. 
Turning back inside, you shake your head and try to calm the pounding against your ribcage. The important thing is that he’s back, he’s alive. 
“Cal’s back!” you call to the rest of the crew, and everyone gathers around the dinner table just as Cal walks up the ramp to the Mantis.
“You found it!” Cere says when she sees the small, black item in Cal’s hand, who’s showcasing it.
Suddenly, there’s a flurry of green and black behind him as a person appears out of thin air.
“Whoa, who’s this?” Greez asks, pointing to the stranger. 
As you take in her appearance, you kinda freeze: it’s a Nightsister. BD beeps excitedly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the pilot asks the droid, still unsure about her presence on his ship.
“It means I’ll be joining you,” she says, with an accent and with confidence. You look at Cal, hoping for him to intervene, but instead, he looks excited. Cal points to each of you, introducing you all by name to the newcomer.
“And this is Merrin,” Cal finishes, pointing to her.
“Wha–” Greez looks up at him just as shocked as you are. “She’s a witch, isn’t she?”
“A Nightsister,” Merrin corrects him. “Your fear is unnecessary.”
“I couldn’t have gotten the Astrium without her,” Cal explains. “We fought Malicos together. I trust her.”
Those words hit you like a bag of bricks. He trusts her. They fought together. She must be a skilled warrior, then. Meanwhile you’re just… you. And next to her, it doesn’t feel like enough. 
“And we trust you,” Cere retorts with a smile directed at Cal, then turns serious as she looks at Merrin. “You will have to earn it.” 
“Fine, grab some seat,” Greez mutters under his breath as he makes his way to the cockpit. “As long as she doesn’t do anything funny.”
“Welcome aboard,” Cere finally says to Merrin and follows Greez to the front of the ship. 
Cal looks after them for a second, then turns to the new crew member.
“They like you,” he remarks, and looks at you as if waiting for you to add something, but you’ve long averted your eyes from him. 
The image of Cal looking at Merrin is now burned in your retinas. Doubt and jealousy spread within you, so you leave for the back of the ship, missing Merrin’s questioning gaze on you. 
Greez sets course for Zeffo to bring the Astrium to the temple and finally, hopefully get the Holocron. You wonder what will happen after that. Is the crew gonna split up? You sure hope not; you don’t really have anywhere else to go.
You didn’t join the Mantis team much earlier than Cal did, so this was your first time you were on the move with Jedis, and if you were being honest, you liked it. Most of it, at least. You liked the sense of adventure, sure. The constant worry about a certain redhead, not so much. And yet you can’t get enough of him and his boyish smile as he apologises for the scratches and bruises you nurse back to health. You’re sure that you’d follow him to the end of the Galaxy if he asked you to. 
But that probably isn’t gonna happen, not if you correctly read how Cal and Merrin exchanged looks throughout the evening when eating dinner. Merrin asked for her steak rare, and you felt that with every jab of her fork into the meat (which to you was way too red), she was looking in your direction. You really weren’t in the mood to confront the newcomer, especially when Cal and even BD seemed so thrilled to have her here, so you tried to ignore her most of the day. Which probably wasn’t the most polite thing to do, but there were other things on your mind.
When the time came to sleep, the crew had to make a few changes. The Mantis has four separate rooms with two bunks each, and until you figure out something better, Cal volunteered to bunk with Greez so Merrin could have her own room.
Now lying in your bed at night, you think back to how you almost didn’t get to talk at all with Cal since he arrived with the Astrium today, despite how worried you were. Just like every other time he’s gone ever since this race for the Holocron started.
As the medic of the crew you’ve had to patch up Cal several times, often giving him a piece of your mind, given how badly injured he came back sometimes. You don’t consider him to be reckless though, in fact you saw how competent he is first-hand when he defended you from an Inquisitor. But still you can’t help the knot in your throat and the tightening in your chest that only loosen up when you see him coming back to the Mantis in one piece. 
And just like every time he came back, today too he sat on the chair as you cleaned up his wounds. Usually you two would chat while you work, but today you had refrained from saying too much, scared that the conversation would shift to the new crew member, and as such giving away how you felt about her. Not that you disliked her (you still hadn’t dealt with Merrin enough to get an idea of the person she was), but her being seemingly close to Cal had put a significant dent in your confidence. Your plans of confessing your feelings to him were now thrown into the bin and you felt silly for ever thinking you had a chance to begin with.
You sigh to yourself in your bunk, pulling the blanket up to your chin and waiting for the ship’s constant hums of hyperspace to lull you to sleep. But at the speed your mind is racing, you doubt sleep will come your way any time soon.
Just as you’re considering doing some reading instead of sleeping in an attempt to tire yourself out, there’s a knock at your door.
Your breath hitches and you tense up. The first person that comes to mind is Merrin; what if she’s here to tell you off or something? To confront you about your attitude at dinner? Or worse, what if she’s here to… hurt you? 
No wait, that’s ridiculous. Shaking away your thoughts, you clear your throat.
“Come in,” you call to the person on the other side.
Much to your surprise, when the door slides open, it’s Cal standing there. A shirtless Cal to be exact, only wearing sweats. He's holding BD in his arms and quickly comes in, closing the door behind him, and approaches you to sit on the edge of your bed.
“I did not know a body so small could snore so loudly” he remarks and yawns. 
Even though you've seen Cal without his shirt plenty of times when patching him up, you can feel the heat prickling your cheeks. You really hope he can’t see how you're eyeing him up, no matter how much you try to tear away your gaze.
“Can I… sleep here tonight?” he asks, and your heart skips a beat. You internally reprimand yourself for that as he’s obviously asking about the bunk above you, not about sharing your bed. 
“Of course,” you reply, hoping your voice doesn’t betray you. 
He thanks you and climbs onto the bed. BD beeps something you don't understand, and Cal answers in quiet whispers you can't really hear.
Some minutes pass by, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. Now there is for sure no way you'll fall asleep, great. You plan on waiting for him to pass out so you can pull out your book, but Cal keeps shifting back and forth, seemingly unable to find a comfortable position to sleep in. 
“Can’t sleep?” you ask after some time, and he sighs deeply.
“Sorry, I'm probably shaking the whole thing,” he says with a sheepish chuckle.
“Wanna sleep down here?” you find yourself proposing, and mentally facepalm yourself. What you meant to say was “Want to switch places?”, but now you made it sound like you're inviting him to sleep in your bed with you. Not that you'd have anything against it, but he's probably taken aback by it–
His fiery hair hangs from his head as he’s peeking down over the edge of the bunk to look at you.
“Really?” he asks, and you can't tell if the tone of his voice is teasing or hopeful. He probably understood what you meant about switching places, right? And that's what he means to do?  
You merely nod your head with an affirmative hum, and Cal’s face disappears so he can properly climb down. He comes to stand beside the bed just as you're sitting up to get out. You're about to throw your legs over the edge when he places a knee next to you, and you freeze.
“Scoot over” he instructs, and you follow. He lifts the blanket and slides under.
You turn on your side with your back to him, trying to shuffle all the way to the wall so he has enough space. Instead you feel yourself being pulled back as Cal hugs you from behind and brings you into his chest, tangling his legs with yours. BD joins the nap pile as well and settles at the end of the bed.
“Is this okay?” he asks, tightening his hold around your waist ever so slightly, and you're still too stunned to speak, so once again you merely nod, and he heaves a deep sigh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
“Is this okay for you though?” you suddenly blurt out. He lifts his head at the question.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought… you and Merrin…” you say and immediately regret it, forcing yourself to shut up. You should have just kept silent and enjoyed this moment. 
“What about her?” Cal asks, the arm at your waist pulling you over to lie on your back while he props himself on his elbow to look down at you.
You don’t answer immediately, unsure of what to say. You fidget with the hem of the blanket. 
“I don't know, the way she looked at you… I thought you two...”
He gives you a small, maybe even shy, smile.
“Greez was snoring,” he states, which seems pretty unrelated, so you quirk an eyebrow at him. “And whose room did I go to?”
You avert your gaze from his, not wanting to give in just yet. Somewhere in the back of your brain there was still a little voice saying that there's no way he's implying what you think he's implying, and that you shouldn't get your hopes up because you're only gonna get crushed.
Then he softly calls your name, and you're suddenly aware of how he can possibly not just hear but feel how your heart is pounding against your ribs, with his body pressed to your side. His hand reaches up to gently hold your chin, turning your face to look at him, and your cheeks burn once more.
The way he looks at you, how the dim lighting from behind seems to form the faintest of halos against his copper hair, how his ocean eyes shine through the darkness and look into yours longingly… You make sure to commit everything to memory, afraid of this moment ever ending. You're so busy counting every freckle, tracing every line of his face with your eyes, his jaw, his collarbones, that you miss how his own eyes flicker to your lips for a moment, and he starts leaning in. 
Before you can even process what’s happening, Cal presses his lips to yours. The touch is feather-light, almost like he’s scared to press too hard. Just as quickly as it started, it ended much too soon. Pulling back only enough to look at you, he’s about to say something, but you go first.
“Do it again,” you demand in a whisper. “Please.”
Cal’s happy to oblige and leans back down, now with more confidence. This time he feels you reciprocate, so he moves on top of you, his arms on either side so as not to crush you with his weight. He traces your bottom lip with his tongue, and you open your mouth to meet it with your own. Your hands reach up, one around his toned back, the other over his shoulder, to his nape, and into his fiery hair. Tangling your fingers into the strands, you pull ever so slightly and he groans into the kiss. If you thought your cheeks were burning before, now your whole body is positively ablaze. 
He breaks the kiss for much needed air, peppering some more on your jaw and neck, which makes you giggle lightly. 
You’re both panting lightly, trying to get your breathing and erratic hearts under control, still looking at each other in awe of what just happened, when BD suddenly beeps.
“Wha- Yeah, I was about to!” Cal says over his shoulder to the droid.
“What did he say?” you ask, cupping his face with both your hands, and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes.
“He said I should tell you how I feel about you,” he explains sheepishly, and when you chuckle at that, he looks back at you.
“I think you’ve made it plenty clear” you tell him with a grin. “But you can’t never be too sure.”
Cal stifles a laugh while shaking his head, hugging you to him and turning around so now you’re on top of him. The action makes you squeak in surprise, and your hand shoots up to cover your mouth as you hide your face in his chest in embarrassment. He chuckles, and you can feel it rumbling through you both. 
“Then let me clear it up,” he starts and his face gets a bit more serious. His hand comes up to hold your face, brushing over your cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re the first thing to make sense in a very, very long time. I’ve been running, hiding for so long… You reminded me that there’s more to life than just survival. And now I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”
You place your own hand over his own, leaning into it and closing your eyes to savour the moment and make sure that you’re not dreaming. After a moment you look back up at him with a smile you can’t stop from spreading no matter how hard you try, not that you’d want to. 
Since you don't really know how to answer and put your feelings into words, you decide to kiss him one more time. It’s cut short though as you have to lean back for a yawn you can’t stifle. Despite your racing heart and the million thoughts going through your head right now, the claws of sleep are slowly creeping in to claim you. 
You kinda slump onto Cal, who huffs in surprise but hugs you nonetheless, and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as you nestle your body against his, your leg over his hip.
“I also want you to stay in my life, Cal,” you mumble as you lazily trace shapes onto his skin. “Even after we find the Holocron and everything, no matter where you go, I’ll be right by your side and kiss you better when you get your ass beat by some monster somewhere.”
“Can’t wait,” he says with a chuckle and a kiss to your head, then wishes you good night, hugging you impossibly closer to him.
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animatedjen · 1 month ago
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The Mantis door had been left open. Even from the engine room, Cal could taste the salty, Force-stained air of Tanalorr drifting through the ship. It mingled with leftover pyre ash clinging to his vest and boots – he couldn’t bring himself to wash just yet. Any form of penance felt justified, no matter how small.
Cal hunched over the workbench, cleaning dried mud from his saber’s emitter (again) trying and failing to distract himself (again) when the click-whirr of BD’s scanner broke the silence.
“You found another bogling ‘gift?’” Cal muttered. BD chirped negative! from somewhere under the table and emerged with a small, foil-wrapped square.
Bracca. Despite years of dust, Cal immediately recognized the meal bar sold to double-shift employees. This one was dented, shoved deep into a pant pocket to be saved for a day without any other options. BD announced that the square’s interior might be edible, but it didn’t match any food descriptions in his current databank.
“It was barely food,” Cal said. “I’m pretty sure the droids ate better than we did.” Removing the caked-on dust revealed an Echo of rusted iron and rain, the shuffling of hands and goods under a dingy Guild banner, and the desperation of a young Scrapper hiding his last bit of food.
This was from his first night on the Mantis. Cal saw himself there on the cot, a trembling scrap rat of a kid with wild eyes and a broken lightsaber. Sensing echoes from his own memory was rare; psychometry draws upon the experiences of other people. But Cal had a strained relationship with the Force these days – and a strained relationship with himself. Another penance. He found himself drifting towards the bed.
The echo of Cal stripped off his drenched poncho and examined the blaster hole on its sleeve. His gaze darted around the room, then towards the hallway, where Cere’s voice murmured faintly over the hum of the engine. “I shouldn’t trust her,” he exhaled, wringing his Master’s saber in his hands. “She could still turn me in.”
Cal settled next to his younger self. The wind outside was stronger now, dragging purple leaves and glittering flecks across the floor. He sighed and leaned back against the bulkhead.
“She– Cere– she will give everything for you,” Cal whispered. His jaw trembled, and he fought through the grief swelling in his chest. “She’s going to save you over and over. And sometimes you’ll be mad about it, because you think she’s being too cautious. Sometimes her teaching will seem too simple, and you’ll act like you know everything, but you don’t. And when she walks away–” the words caught in his throat. “She walks away and you won’t understand why. And you’ll keep fighting, and you won’t know how to stop, and eventually you ruin everything.”
He tasted salt on his lips. The lights on the ceiling blinked on and off, and on and off.
“So I should leave?”
Cal turned to his own echo, now staring directly at him. 
“I’ll leave,” the younger Cal repeated. “Right now. Make them drop me off on Nar Shaddaa, find work, and go back into hiding. Then none of this will ever happen, and no one will get hurt.”
Five years of sorrow washed over Cal. It was an empty promise from a boy who had not yet experienced the full power of the Empire. But maybe, a quiet voice offered, maybe everyone else would have a better chance without you.
The echo (or whatever the Force it was) glanced past Cal. Somewhere outside, Greez was calling to Merrin. Her reply made Kata laugh, and their distant voices melted into the breeze. “Who is that?” the younger Cal asked.
Cal dragged his boot across the floor. “Family,” he finally replied. “Your family. If you stay.”
“Are they worth it?”
“Yes.” The sharpness in his own voice surprised Cal. Despite everything that went wrong, all the pain he caused, and all the lives lost. You two are the best thing that ever happened in my life, Greez had once said, sitting on this very cot. For all of Cal’s failures, he had somehow been given the best people in the entire galaxy.
And if they chose him, no matter what happened, then maybe Cal could too.
The younger Cal walked to the doorway, hovering at its threshold. “Do we actually do it?” he asked timidly, clipping the broken saber to his belt. “Do we rebuild the Jedi Order?”
Cal met his gaze. “You make a difference. You save people. Not all of them.”
“Is it still worth trying?”
“Yeah. I hope so.”
His echo nodded and disappeared down the hallway. A moment later, Cal heard himself tentatively playing Cere’s hallikset. Then came footsteps and a familiar voice–
–and the memory was gone. Cal stood next to the Mantis couch and stared at the empty space where Cere should be sitting. He pried his fingers from the foil wrapper clenched in his hand and dropped the misshapen lump of Bracca on the table.
“What’s that?” Kata asked as stepped inside. Merrin followed behind, her eyes darting from the meal bar to Cal's pinched eyebrows. A purple leaf had lodged itself inside the fold of her jacket hood.
“Something BD-1 found under the workbench,” Cal shrugged. “It smells weird.”
Kata crouched at the table, poking the foil with one finger. BD hopped up next to her and reiterated his initial findings, but clarified the food item was long expired and no attempt at eating it should be made.
Cal pulled the leaf from Merrin’s jacket, and she in turn brushed a piece of ash from his shoulder. Kata gingerly opened a corner of the foil and immediately made a face. “This is really bad,” she confirmed. “Like nekko barf. Can we show Greez?”
“Lateros smell things differently than we do,” Merrin explained, her expression deadpan. “He will find it pleasant.”
“No way,” Kata teased, but she and BD were already out the door and halfway down the ramp. A moment later, Greez’ yell of disgust echoed across all of Tanalorr.
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first-class-feral · 4 months ago
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brad dourif scrungly feature analysis: eyes
from the “Boys” dourif-hottie supercut music video:
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I’d love to see an artist break this down!
For now, let me write you a novel about Brad's spectacular eyes...
The Strangeness
(Skip if you want to preserve the mystery.) BD's right eye is placed a little higher, and turned up as if tugged from the outer corner. I think it's part of that subtle something that immediately sets him apart. This unique, catlike, romantic asymmetry snatches your attention.
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The glow
His striking, chameleonic blues capture light — even in B&W — which directors loooooove to exploit by lighting him obliquely:
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It's a great way to crank up the eerie vibe of any scene, and I respect Star Trek for trashing that option outright with all-black contacts. (Of course, he still served an incredibly compelling outsider.)
(Edit: I put up a post just about this effect because they seriously do it all the damn time) (...because it's awesome)
Set in shadows
He has hooded eyes, deep-set and accentuated by heavy eye bags. The shadows and textures draw you in toward those luminescent irises, like picture frames that amplify each motion of his eyes.
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Contrast
Sometimes he pops them wide open, creating these huge, expressive magnets...
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...Or squints lopsidedly...
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...Or interrogates, challenges, threatens — alert but defensive, like a prey animal on the edge of lashing out.
He’s said he chooses roles that "turn him on" (pretty clearly in an artistic sense); many of these blend menace and vulnerability, and our boy dumps emotion into every. single. line. This can manifest as an intense, wary, combative look, with eyes wide under neutral or furrowed brows:
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Cry, baby
...And that's all before we mention the tears. He cries, of course, at will and liberally, and his eyes go red-rimmed and wet, highlighting them even more as he pins someone's soul to the wall with his gaze.
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When he hovers right on the edge, they seem to shine in the dark.
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Bared
At times, his fair eyelashes almost vanish, compounding his unusual look with a birdlike or reptilian tinge.
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Obviously, the shaved brows in LOTR add to this effect.
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A couple more things you'll notice here: he'll hold his eyes wide open for much longer than normal, drawing out these moments and making him seem even more alien.
And when he gets up-close in someone's face (which is often), he's constantly switching his gaze between their eyes — totally fixated, as if scanning for emotional feedback. In my opinion, it adds to that vulnerability: to the object of his attention, he must seem like a predator freezing them in place... but it's also desperate, like a prey animal trying to decipher the other person's intent, all senses tuned to pick up their slightest signal. (Gríma Wormtongue and Jack Dante especially have this pathetic air about them: grasping at sources of warmth while lashing out at the harsh, unintelligible world around them, allying themselves with uncontrollable destructive forces in an attempt to establish a place for themselves........)
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TL;DR
The eyes — and how he uses them — are the standout scrungly feature, the main reason we can’t look away from this unforgettable weirdo.
The cat-eye asymmetry pulls focus;
His ice-blue irises are light traps, framed in textured shadow;
His full-bore emotional commitment ramps up the anguish and torment to an aching crescendo that's impossible to ignore.
Eventually I'll follow up on other contributing factors, but for now, I'll leave you with a couple of article snippets about The Eyes:
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Imagi-Movies: Vol 1 No 2 — Winter 1993/94. Pages 11-13: "Traumatic - Brad Dourif". Link
SoHo News: November-December 1981. "Tension and mercy - Brad Dourif glowers for our sins" (an article all about his eyes! But they don't mention the asymmetry.)
[Gifs were mostly stolen from the GOAT, @exdeputysonso — with some of my own, mostly the square ones. Shout-out to @dragonsbloodsnowcone for inspiring this word vomit.]
Thanks for reading!
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breakfastteatime · 4 months ago
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Today's Fallen Order request is Shine for @thefinaljediknight
The planet sings. Cal feels it the moment they touch down. This world is so alive, and not because there’s a Maw somewhere beneath him, waiting for its next meal. The Force gushes and froths, a rapid river ready to swallow him whole. Beyond the cockpit, the planet’s incredible plant life shimmers in the soft rain, yellows, reds, purples, oranges, pinks, humming and swaying. The Force wants to take him by the hand and lead him in a dance. He looks to Cere. Does she feel it too? If she does, she shows nothing. Is that how effectively she’s cut herself off from the Force? Cal can’t imagine not feeling this, even if the Force might pull him apart like petals on the wind.
“Cal?” Greez calls as he finalises the landing procedure. “Something wrong? You’re looking spacey.”
He shakes his head, unable to put it into words. What would he say to someone who can’t feel the Force at all? How could he explain how this planet shines? BD too. He has no sense of this.
What a terrible, inexplicable loss for them. Cal can’t bear it. He can’t.
“Hey, whoa, what – ” Greez’s confusion is silenced when Cal wraps his arms around him and hugs him tight. “You okay, kid?”
Cal feels Greez patting him on the back, offering comfort when it should be the other way around. He reaches out, pulls BD in close too. “I wish you two could feel this.”
“Uh – ”
BD gives a curious beep.
Cal can’t speak.
“This planet is very, very strong in the Force,” Cere explains for Greez’s benefit. “Cal is a little overwhelmed by it.”
“Oh,” Greez says. He returns the hug. “If this is what Cal looks like when he’s overwhelmed, I think we can handle it.”
BD announces Cal scan results suggest he’s high.
Cere’s smile catches on the Force and flutters off on golden wings. “Yes, it probably feels a lot like that for him.”
Cal can’t contain himself a moment longer. Releasing Greez and BD, he rushes to the hatch, hits the override, and opens the ship up to the world ahead. He throws himself to the ground before the ramp can finish extending. His feet hit the grass – bare feet because he didn’t stop to put his boots on. Pollen and seeds cast themselves into the air, sparkling in the light when the sun breaks through the rainclouds. Cal tilts his face to the sky, eyes closed as he basks in the energy humming around him. No, he won’t fly away here. Maybe he’ll sink instead, into a cloud of light and life, streams of light dancing around him. He does a one-legged twirl worthy of BD just to take it all in, pulling the Force around him so it gathers like a cloak. The Force takes his hand and pulls him away, leading him up, up, up, above a forest of flowers in bloom and trees finding new life in spring. The world is coming back to life after a long, hard winter, and the planet sings with such joy the Force swells and rises.
A hand lands on his shoulder. “Cal.”
It’s hard, returning to himself. Cere’s warm hand, the cupped light that is her true self a beacon calling him back. He opens his eyes and sees a meadow around him, flowers turned to him like he is the sun. He’s on his knees, Cere at his side. Lungs full of fresh, clean air, he reaches out, lets the yellowpinkpurplered petals brush over his fingers. “Cere,” he breathes. He can’t capture what this place is. He’s never felt anything like it. Never. And with his slowly healing Force connection, it feels like… like maybe he really can do what Cere’s asking of him, expecting of him.
Trust only in the Force.
Cere crouches down, wrapping an arm around him. “I know,” she says.
He falls against her side, closing tear-filled eyes. Such joy. He doesn’t want to leave.
“Can you hold onto yourself while Greez and I head into town, or do we need to go somewhere else?”
It’s an effort to pull back, to put a barrier between him and this wonderful place. He is drunk on this place, so high he could brush the stars with his fingers.
Cere’s hand closes around his, pulling it down. “I think Greez might need to go on this trip alone.”
Cal falls forward, pressing his ear to the dirt. He can hear the planet’s song. He wants to listen to its ebb and flow forever.
“Is he okay?” Greez’s voice blends with the music.
“Can you manage the resupply?” Cere’s voice soars above the chorus. “I need to stay with him.”
Cal can’t contain himself. “I can hear the song.”
BD whistles, his weight leaving Cal’s back. The next thing he feels is Cere’s hand once more, resting on his back. She is a mute dulling the music, and he can’t stand it. He can’t. He doesn’t want to simply hear it; he wants to be in that flow.  “Let go,” he tells Cere.
“No. I know, Cal, I know what this must be like for you, but you mustn’t let it carry you away. Hold onto yourself. Let the Force flow around you here, not through you. If the Force is a river, you are standing on the banks watching it rush by.”
He doesn’t want to watch. It’s not enough. He’s never felt the Force so completely before, so happy, unrestrained, life, so much life, everything alive and –
Cere’s touch is more insistent now, a sharp tug where a Padawan braid once would have hung. Startled, he stares at her. “I know, I’m sorry. Focus on me. We’re going back to the ship.”
“To meditate?”
“No, not here. I think you’d disappear forever.”
“Become one with the Force?” It would be like being all the colours of a rainbow. He can’t help smiling.
“Definitely no becoming one with the Force, Cal. We’re going to ground you, one way or another.”
The Mantis hums around him, and Cal can’t remember if that’s the ship’s usual sound or if maybe it’s found a song to sing too. Cere sits him down on the couch.
“Potolli weave really is so comfortable,” Cal sighs.
“Come back down from the sky.” Cere sits on the table ahead of him.
“You shine,” Cal tells her. He pokes her. “You can’t hide it from me!”
Cere smiles, a strange smile, all sad and wistful. “When your master wanted you to hone your focus, what did he make you do?” she asks.
Padawan, it is –
“ – time for instruction.” He giggles at his own impression of Master Tapal.
“And what were those instructions?” Cere asks gently.
Focus on the here and now, what you see ahead of you, the scent in the air, the feel of the deck beneath your feet and the clothes against your skin. Tell me all about it.
By the time Cal’s done telling Cere all about it, the Force’s song has dropped in volume and he feels very aware of himself. Was he always so unwieldy? So clumsy? He stares at Cere, feeling the blush on his skin. Did he really try to hug the ground? Maybe if he asks nicely it will swallow him whole. “Sorry, I – ”
She cuts him off. “It’s very special, isn’t it?”
He grins. “Very.”
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clubdionysus · 7 months ago
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[BAD DECISION #6] Wishing
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warnings: i like to call this a montage chapter - it gets us through the entire summer :) gym trips! dionysus nights! jaykay being sexy in the gym! dynamic and friendship solidified!
soundtrack: c'est la vie - ethan surman; my type - brb.; happiness - the 1975
wc: 6k
bd total wc: 540k (on-going)
minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 
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The scowl on your face as you reach the gym prevails. You've a coffee in one hand - ice americano, double shot - and the hood of your sweater is bunching around your shoulders. You lift it over your head, and push the swing door of the gym open with your shoulder, wanting to avoid the unwanted eyes of Jiyeong, just in case she's working.
You don't look over to the reception, but the lobby is empty, regardless. It's quiet, always a little less busy in the morning than it is in the evening.
You make your way to the gate of the gym. Punch in the code. Get it wrong. Tell the keypad to 'stop being a prick'.
You try again, exhaling a weighty sigh as you do so.
There's a whir as it works this time, hinges clicking open for you. The metallic clang of gym equipment and grunts of burly men cloud the air, battling with the voice in your head for the title of most annoying sound. Always have to win, don't you? Couldn't just take a loss!
It's a flaw; one that you'll admit to, but one that you wouldn't change for the world. A little bit of drive is good, even if you do drive yourself up the wall more often than not.
Hood up, a pair of leggings and a sweater on, black high-tops tied in bows around your ankles, you look like death warmed up. There's glitter caught in your lashline, and your hair is still damp from your quick shower, but you've a point to prove.
And so, just shy of midday, your feet stomp heavily up the stairs, as thunderous as the look on your face.
It's not that you're actually mardy or moody at all - you're just hanging like an absolute bitch.
Whatever Jeongguk puts in those tiny purple shots is lethal. Writes you off every single time.
Admittedly, you had gone a little harder last night knowing that you didn't have work the following day, but that's beyond the point. Normally your hangovers aren't so bad, especially not when you drink water throughout the night - which, thanks to Jeongguk, you had been.
Jeongguk doesn't notice your arrival until you roll down onto the bench behind him. You're on your side, legs tucked up, just like you had been in your bed when his message had arrived in your inbox.
He's in shorts - black, finishing midway down his thigh - and a big baggy t-shirt. On his feet, he's matching with you. Black Chucks. The only difference is that he ties his around the front. His bows are double knotted and little lopsided, the white trims on the soles scuffed and well worn. He's got history in his hi-tops, and you wonder how it compares to yours.
There's a girl in the city who matches him, and it isn't you. You don't have the tiny 'J' scrawled into the rubber of your soles like she does. He's scratched out her initial on his sole.
Takes a little longer to erase it from his other soul, mind you. It's still there. Only faintly, but enough to make him trip over himself from time to time. S'why he always double knots. Harder to fall, that way.
There's concentration on his face, features perplexed as the weight he lifts forces him to exert more energy than he's fully ready for. His teeth are bared, face tight, brows tied in a pretty knot between his eyes. You can see why Jiyeong is so territorial. He's not a bad-looking bloke. Quite handsome, actually.
He exhales as he brings the weight down, resting it on the ground, chest heaving ever so slightly before he turns to look at you. His brows are still furrowed, but his eyes are soft as his body gets more comfortable and settles into a state of rest.
A breathly laugh graces his lips as he reaches for the towel by your head. He pays no mind to the fact your crown is resting upon it, whipping it from beneath you to dab at the sweat gathering on the back of his neck.
"I said bright and early," he smirks, knowing that you must be hating everything about this interaction.
"It's before twelve," you mumble, eyes closed, knowing that watching his dimples form would only make your tummy feel all light and vomit-inducing. You're too hungover for anything other than neutral sensations. "It is bright and early."
"You're basically asleep."
"The bet was that I'd be here, Jeon," you remind him, voice a grumble as you shuffle deeper into your position. "Not that I'd be doing anything useful."
You've a point. It's not one that he can argue against, and so instead he just shrugs and picks his water bottle up from beside the bench. He tosses a little back into his mouth, the stream of water running from the plastic opening and into his mouth with such precision that you're sure he must be an asshole deep down.
You don't buy the nice guy front. Only assholes look that good doing the bare minimum. You'll get to the bottom of his assholeness eventually, but not now. Not when you're this grouchy, and everything feels a little biased.
"C'mon," he says as he knocks his head to the side. "Treadmill. Walk with me. You'll feel better for it."
"I think I'll die," you tell him with so much certainty he can't help but laugh at you.
Still, he stands in front of you and waits for you to join him. Knocks his knee against yours. Kicks your shoe with his own.
He's patient, his eyes soft as they look down at what a sorry state you are. There's something about the way his lips purse gently that makes him feel like a safe bet.
You've no regrets for tumbling out of bed and catching the subway to meet him at the gym. Your head is killing, granted, but it would have been killing you at home, too. At least this way you can feel like you've actually done something productive despite the hangover.
"Trust me," he insists, holding out his palm. "It really will help."
And so you take his hand, letting him pull you up. They warm, and a little clammy, but you don't mind.
When you're finally on your feet, your eyes are level with his chest. He's broad, chest well defined even beneath the shirt. You try not to think about the fact you've seen him shirtless, but you can smell the scent of his laundry detergent, and it adds a whole new element to the enigma the Jeon Jeongguk is. Looking at him, you'd imagine a scent of musk - something woody, maybe. Instead, he smells like fresh blooms, sweet peas under summer sun.
You don't let yourself linger for too long, fearful of him reading into the way you can't seem to keep your eyes off him. He's just new. Something shiny. Fresh. Excitement amongst the mundane of a city you've grown tired of.
He reaches down to pick up your half empty coffee and takes a sip as he begins to walk away. "Tastes like shit."
You pull it back from him, and nudge his side. "Feels like crack cocaine. The Purple Starfuckers, man... they actually kill me."
"You're welcome."
Small talk peppers the walk down the steps - How are your friends? Get home alright? How was Jimin feeling in the morning? How long do you have to stay after closing time? - and flitters around the pair of you as you set your inclines. His is noticeably higher than yours, but you're not here to work out. You're here to win a bet - of which he keeps reminding you that you lost, and that you are, in fact, a 'loser'.
You just tell him to 'fuck off' in return.
He never does. Just smiles, beams all wide, teeth on display, nose a little scrunched, and says "sounds like something a loser would say."
Jeongguk is easy to be around. His company, his humour, the anecdotes he tells. They're delivered freely, revealed without pressure. No diamonds are being formed, but there's enough of them in your eyes when you laugh with him, regardless.
You reduce the ease of your interactions to your perceived lack of expectations he has of you.
There's security that comes with fucking someone's housemate. You're no longer a viable sexual conquest, and therefore you don't have to worry about an ulterior motive for your exchanges with Jeongguk. Jimin's been there, done that.
For Jeongguk to be hanging out with you, you think he must actually like your company. It's mutual. Reciprocal. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
There's a clear line drawn in the sand between the two of you, as you walk forward on separate treadmills. He matches your speed - slow and lethargic - despite his marginally higher incline, before offering you his water.
You hold up your coffee, but he shakes his head. "It'll dehydrate you."
You'd left in such a rush (and without any intent on actually working out) so had neglected to bring any water with you. Never mind the fact you stopped by the coffee place inside the subway station. Force of habit.
You're chronically dehydrated as it is. Danbi has to remind you that you need water, not just iced americanos to get you through the day. Sometimes you listen. More often than not, you don't.
"Sure?" you ask, aware that you don't really know each other well enough to be sharing drinks yet (despite the fact he'd already helped himself to your coffee) but he just nods. Doesn't really see it as a big deal.
"Don't backwash," he tells you as you're mid-sip, and it almost makes you choke the water straight back into the bottle. You refrain, swallowing it down, coughing slightly as you recover from your shock.
"Christ. Too late," you joke as you pass it back, before he makes some crude remark about how you've basically kissed now, and that 'you can't have your way' with both him and Jimin.
"Fuck off," you laugh. "For starters, Jimin and I aren't like, a thing. It was a one-time hook-up."
"Sure."
"Well, I mean, he tried last night," you shrug, looking up to the mirror ahead, finding Jeongguk's dark eyes already on you.
He doesn't look away as he says, "he did?"
"You served us, Jeongguk," you remind him. Your memories of last night are far clearer than they were of the night you'd actually hooked up with Jimin. "He wasn't getting me drinks just to be kind."
"You don't know that," Jeongguk pouts, though he's not sure why. He knows Jimin. He was definitely trying to get laid - but he's also his best friend, so he says, "he's a good guy."
"I don't doubt that," you agree, not wanting it to appear as if you're being over-critical of Jimin. You're the one who fucked him, after all. He's incredibly attractive, and you know that many people would consider themselves lucky to end their night with him, but you've fucked handsome men before. It doesn't really couldn't for all that much.
A fuck is just a fuck.
What we do in the dark has no bearing on who we are in the light of day.
"Sounds like you do," he assesses, but you dismiss it.
"Sounds like you're reading into it a little too much," you banter back, slowly learning that Jeongguk likes to do that. He overanalyses. You do quite the opposite.
Jimin could have a noble peace prize for all you care. Doesn't mean you've any interest in fucking him again.
The conversation dwindles on, you gradually upping the pace of your treadmill to the point where Jeongguk might consider it a brisk walk (though you'd argue it's a jog).
He's kind in the way he takes a second to think before he speaks, conscious of letting you finish your sentences, and also wanting to be sure of the words he articulates. Thoughtful. Mild-mannered. Nice, but not in a way that boring. Nice, in a way that feels safe.
By the time your legs begin to ache, the treadmills have been running for over forty-five minutes.
You've been too busy guessing the conversations between other strangers in the gym. Who they are; where they're going after their sessions. What they'd had for breakfast (and for some reason, Jeongguk would guess 'egg whites' without fail for every single person) and what they'd be having for dinner.
He mimics their voices, and you laugh along, adding a narrative. So many lives have been lived by the people around you, and not single one you get even remotely correct.
There's a burly man, bearded and broad, with a petite girl hanging on every word he says towards the far corner, and you decide that they're a couple.
Jeongguk thinks they're siblings.
Makes it a little awkward when the guy starts squeezing the girls ass mid-squat.
"Yep, no, maybe you're right," he cringes, face scrunching up, lip ring almost disappearing into his mouth as he does so. Unfortunately, he does also then begin to debate the prospect of them maybe being stepsiblings, at which point you threaten to push him off his treadmill.
"You watch too much porn," you tell him, and he can't even argue against it.
It's been a little while since his last situationship ended, and he's been avoiding bedding anyone new like the plague. Been keeping girls he thinks he could grow to like at arm's length. Safer that way.
"I watch a perfectly healthy amount of porn," he scoffs, but then bunches his face up, clearly not proud of himself for making such a declaration. He chooses to not share the fact that he and Jimin split a VPN bill for that purpose exactly.
You laugh with him, the topic moving along to the PG shows he watches instead, the Netflix shows you're both hooked on, and what you'd each chosen for your Vecna song (which also leads to him helplessly defending all of his Spotify playlists from your gruelling judgement ( Justin Bieber defined a generation and I won't listen to you talk shit about him.... And fuck off, Mad at Disney is cute! Cute! I'm never showing you my Spotify ever again. EVER.))
He mirrors you as you slow the pace of your treadmill, looking over to you after checking the time on the clock - 58:23. Longer than he'd expected you'd last. "Done?"
"Done," you nod.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like death?"
"Still?"
"Still," you nod. "Need a Vita500 and a nap."
"There's CU round the corner," he notes. "I'm now about to leave anyways. I'll come with you. You can get your vitamins, I'm gonna grab something to eat."
You nod, not minding in the slightest - but he mentioned food, and your stomach begins to grumble like King Kong atop the Empire State.
"Would die for convenience store ramyeon," you sigh, musing over one of the finest delicacies in life. Nothing beats instant jjajangmyeon, not even a home-cooked meal.
"Wanna grab some?" Jeongguk asks a little mindlessly, not thinking much of the offer. "I'll eat with you."
And so he does. The comfort born in the confines of the gym is nurtured over cheap food and even cheaper shots at one another in the form of banter. He's a lot of fun, you think. It's a shame he's always stuck behind the bar and never able to let loose with you in the club.
He texts you midweek to let you know he can put you on the club guest list, if you want. Save paying entry and queueing. You'd be mad to say no - and so you spend the next few days convincing your friends that another night out is a good idea.
It's not. Hoseok somehow ends the night without his shoes, and you wake up with an ache in your lower back from a guy who'd tried to be all sexy in his bedroom last night, failing miserably. Human bodies aren't supposed to bend in the way he insisted on positioning you in.
You ignore the slight burn as you head to the gym though, ready to pretend like Jeongguk's the bane of your life once more.
A routine is forming.
What started as a bet becomes a weekend guarantee: you will get shitfaced at Dionysus on a Saturday, and then you will chat shit with Jeongguk on the treadmills for the duration of your Sunday morning.
He never lets you off the machines until the scowl that you inevitably arrive with transforms into a subtle smile. Some weeks it's quicker than others, but one thing is for certain; your scowl will always fade.
By week three, he's already by the treadmills when you arrive.
"No napping today," he teases with a soft smile, making light of the way you always curl up on the bench behind him as he does his final few reps. He's already done with them. Got to the the gym fifteen minutes early to make sure he would be.
"Gguk," you groan, dragging your feet a little and yet still heading in his direction towards the cardio area.
The way his body swings around to look at you, a single brow raised, is like something out of a kid's cartoon. He's so animated and full of energy that it's hard to believe he was at work until five that morning. "What did you just call me?"
"Shut up," you mumble, crossing your legs and sitting down on the treadmill belt. It's quiet - this time of day is never busy - so you don't feel bad for hogging a machine that no one would be using regardless. "Everyone calls you that."
He hops up on his treadmill and sets an incline, while you let your body flop down on yours.
"You're not everyone."
"Be impossible to be everyone," you mumble, eyes closed, body shuffling into a more comfortable position - until the treadmill jolts, moving ever so slowly beneath you. The way you get up is akin to a cat being confronted with a cucumber, a small yelp leaving your lips. "Jesus, Jeongguk!"
He's smirking, as if hadn't been tampering with the buttons, shrugging. "Started by itself."
"You could have killed me."
"What a shame that would have been." He grins at you like a kid who just found a stash of candy. "C'mon! Up you get. I've got places to be. A life to live."
You scoff as you begin to walk forward, lowering the incline that he'd set it to. "You? A life? Seems unlikely."
"You know, you're incredibly hard to like," he assures you. You catch the challenge of his gaze in the mirror and simply shrug.
"Yet here you are, still trying to be my friend."
"Can't shake you off."
"You force me to come."
"I do no such thing."
"Ohhhh, disco baaaaall," you begin to imitate him, bringing your clasped hands to your heart as if you really are begging. You sound nothing like him, but it's kind of deliberate. The more ridiculous you sound, the more he'll laugh. "Pwetty pwease come to the gym and keep me company."
"I don't talk like that," he laughs at how whiney you sound. "And fuck off, I've never said that."
"So you don't mind if I leave?"
His hand reaches over and hooks into the hood of your sweater, as if you're a dog on a leash. His grip is tight. Ain't no way you're going nowhere.
"No, you're not allowed," he says sternly, but there's a smile on his face, voice dulcet as the command rolls off his tongue and sinks into your ear. "I'll get bored."
"See!" You laugh, and pay no notice to the fact his hand stays with an iron grip on the fabric of your sweater even after the joke has been made. He keeps it there.
"It's either I have you keep me company, or Jimin keep me company," he says with a shrug. "I've always got a second choice."
"Aw, but I'm your first choice. How cute."
"My god, I hate you," he says as he finally drops his grip on your hoodie, nudging your shoulder as you walk. He busies his hand, tampering with his incline, trying to make it seem like the touch was casual. Nothing to read into.
It's a debate the pair of you are able to have for hours; who hates who more, who hated who first, who's gonna hate who for longer.
It's not flirting as such, but it is a ruse. You deflect the fact that you actually really enjoy each other's company, using hatred as a measure of just how much you like one another. It's all very juvenile.
He tells you he hates you when you steal half of the cheese he buys for his instant ramyeon after the gym, and you tell him that you hate him every single time you show up at the gym. It's a win-win.
By the time week four comes around, you're surprised to find yourself considering signing up for another month.
You rarely use your membership - once a week, to be precise, and only for about an hour at a time. It does give you a luxury of freedom, though. Chances are you'll be able to find Jeongguk there, no matter what time of day it is.
You'd swung by one evening that week after work just to show him the painting someone did of breadfish, knowing that he'd be the only other person in the city who remembered something so ridiculous.
He'd been deadlifting at the time, a thick leather belt cinching the baggy shirt he'd been wearing, stopping you quite suddenly in your tracks.
Hands covered in paint, hair up, a pencil still tucked behind your ear, you're the most 'you' he thinks he's ever seen you.
Sure, he's seen you with your makeup all smudged after a night out, and he's seen you after far too many drinks deep, but he's never really had the luxury of a totally sober 'you'. The 'you' that other people get to indulge in.
The glitter on your lids is a little more subtle than he's used to - it's thinner, finer, a little pink in its hue - but still prettily in place. Sparkling under the harsh gym bulbs. It's nice to know you're a disco even in the daylight.
He finds himself holding the bar he's lifting for a little longer than expected. His eyes are on yours in the mirror. You've paused by the top of the stairs, eyes on his.
It had been the shock of how bloody tiny his waist is that had startled you first, the look in his eyes, second.
And it's that second surprise - a pleasant one - which stops you from doing anything else but staring. He's got car crash eyes, and you can't help but watch the disaster of the wreckage burn.
You can't even really take in the rest of his face, and it's a shame, for he's a sight to behold; lips ajar, the freckle beneath them covered by the shadow of his pout, brows furrowing together slowly.
The longer he looks at you, the more strained his expression becomes - until his eyes close, teeth clenching, body holding the weight until he can't support it for much longer. It drops, his body shaking as his chest heaves, the sound shattering the tension between the pair of you.
You feel bad for intruding; as if you've seen him in a way you were never supposed to. It's not like you walked in on him showering or anything as intimate as that, but it's been a while since a man has looked at you like, well, that.
Desire, passion? Sure, whatever. They'd looked at you with those in their eyes.
But Jeongguk hadn't been looking at you with either of those wants. At least, not a want for you.
He'd been pushing himself. Proving himself.
And while he hadn't been proving himself to you, you're reminded why you don't fuck anyone face-to-face these days. Eye-contact. It's too much. Gets you all hot and bothered.
And so while his chest heaves, eyes looking you up and down, a little unsure of what the fuck just happened, you do the only thing you can: distract him.
Behind your back is the breadfish canvas, so you bring it around, hold it in the air and smile as brightly as you possibly can. "Please tell me you know what this is."
He takes a second. Tilts his head, and then realises exactly what it's meant to be - a loaf of bread with a fish head and tail tacked onto the end. He's not seen it since middle school. Was the only one of his friends who found it fucking hilarious - and the way you're beaming makes him think that you were probably just as strange as he was, growing up.
Your mutual childhood strangeness is proven right. Transcends in adulthood, apparently. He sends you voice notes of him singing the breadfish song on loop for three days straight. You block him on 4 separate occasions.
Doesn't stop him from making sure the DJ plays the song on Saturday night. He'll take the blocking if it means he gets to see your smile just as bright as your disco ball eyes.
When Sunday comes, the look on Jeongguk's face as you tell him your membership is due to expire is hard to read.
His eyes, for once, don't give much away.
He's forbearing as he says, "you can't use your memberships expiring as an excuse not to hang out anymore. I'll still force you on hangover walks."
His stoicism fades as he tries to hide a smile when you ask him to wait by the door of the gym lobby. You renew your membership. Just for another month - just enough to keep him happy.
And so the routine continues. Saturday nights are reserved for Dionysus; Sunday mornings for the boy from behind the bar.
There's normally a gap of five or so hours between you saying goodbye at the club and hello at the gym.
Sometimes you go home from Dionysus with Hoseok and Danbi.
Other times, you end up in an apartment that's unfamiliar, with a man who's equally as unknown.
They're always nice enough.
Never nice enough to make you wanna stay the night.
On one occasion, you end up going home with another woman, instead. It's not unheard of, for you, just harder to come by. Your first experiences had been with women, and your dating history is littered with as many women as it is men. You don't subscribe to the idea of sexuality being a linear thing, far more content with just going with who feels right, not what feels right.
Naively, you'd put her on a pedestal, thinking you'd finally get a decent lay - but a drunk shag is a drunk shag. You still ended up leaving as soon as you could, orgasm not quite reached.
At this point, you figure it's a mental block. You never used to have this issue, but you also used to only fuck people you loved.
When the people you loved began to fuck you over, things changed.
You've too many rules now. Too many restrictions on yourself. You can never fully relax and actually enjoy sex for what it is.
The rules are never set in stone, but they always follow the same pattern.
Don't let yourself be vulnerable. Don't get fully naked. No kissing during sex. Absolutely no face-to-face fucking - taken from behind, or not at all. You'll give oral, but the second someone tries to reciprocate, you move it along.
How can you enjoy intimacy with another person when you won't let yourself be intimate?
There are just too many things that remind you still of him; things that will hurt your heart more than it already does when someone else takes his place.
And so sex isn't really sex anymore. It's a tool.
You use it to pretend like you're over everything that happened with your ex; as if you're in control of a situation that he created.
And so that's why Saturday nights are reserved for Dionysus: they're filling the space of date night. Sunday mornings in the gym? Filling the space of lazy morning fucks and brunch down by the lake near Hoseok's place.
Being busy with the gym stops you from making 11:11 wishes for him to show up at your door, and the nights in Dionysus stop you from looking for shooting stars to wish upon instead.
Instant noodles with a guy you barely know don't quite manage to make you forget about eggs benedict with the man you thought you might one day marry, but hey - it's something at least.
On the nights that Jeongguk knows you don't go straight home, he checks up on you; will text when his shift is up, again when he gets home, and one final time when he wakes up. He doesn't care for the semantics that come with double messaging. He isn't trying to impress you.
He knows what you get up to in the dark. What you do is your prerogative. He's more concerned about the lack of trust and faith he has in the people you do it with. Despite this, not once does he berate you for it.
Even Hoseok's made a dumb remark here and there about the fact you're 'getting around', but if Jeongguk's thought similar things, he doesn't let you know it. He's a good friend. One that you're lucky to have. Thank God you fucked his flatmate and not him, instead.
The illusion of you has slipped by this point, for Jeongguk. He knows you too well to toy with what-ifs.
You feel secure in the fact he's not trying to get into your pants; a rarity for dudes these days.
Even Jimin took the hint after you turned him down, and has become a welcome addition to your nights out. He's fun to flirt with, but he knows nothing will happen, so he never pushes it too far - but is also happy to be your cover when another bloke is getting too touchy with you for your liking. He's been your 'boyfriend' a grand total of three times, now - only ever for a night.
You're not too familiar with Jeongguk's other friends yet, but you sometimes get in on a round of shots with them. There are four usual suspects: Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon and Yoongi. All handsome, all perfectly nice. None of them stick to you like glue, though. Not Jeongguk did.
Hoseok and Danbi have followed your lead, and consider the boys casual acquaintances; drinking partners for when they happen to be at the bar at the same time.
A dog walker by profession, Danbi always finds herself flirting with Taehyung, who tries his hardest to get a discount on her services. She always refuses.
Jeongguk and Yeonjun have a running bet going to see how long it takes until he's paying full price, just for an excuse to see her outside of a club setting. They've had to reset the bet twice, because Danbi might just be the most stubborn woman to have ever graced the planet.
Summer is spent in a technicolour haze of Purple Starfuckers, club lights, unorthodox gym routines and enough glitter to open a craft shop.
Jeongguk didn't quite know how, but he was always finding flecks of the metallic warpaint on his gym gear. He always has a little laugh to himself whenever he does the laundry. "Fucking Disco Ball."
It's early autumn by the time Hoseok and Danbi make their first appearance at the club without you.
He texts you - boo, you whore - and waits in the backroom of the bar until he sees a reply come through.
Busy tonight, your reply reads. It feels a little cold, but you don't mean for it to be. You're just a rush, and Jeongguk nagging you is the last thing you need.
JK:  Busy doing what?
You:  none of your business x
Despite the kiss you end your sentence with (he can hear the way you say 'mwah' the same way you do whenever you know you're being a little cheeky), it still feels... off.
JK: Oddly defensive.
You: i'm always defensive :)
You:  lemme know when you get home safe
It's a simple role reversal, but Jeongguk isn't sure what to make of it. He's normally the one making sure you get home safe. Not the other way around. It's not a 'what-if' scenario that he's run through in his head before. He doesn't like it.
He likes being depended on. Has gotten used to you depending on him.
Pushing it to the back of his mind, he makes orders without much thought, too busy letting himself indulge in what-ifs. It's been a while since he's thought of any regarding you, but he's consumed by them, now. Where you are, who you're with. Why Danbi and Hoseok won't give him a straight answer when he asks. They say it's not their business, but the way Danbi gives Hoseok a grimace whenever the topic is mentioned would suggest she doesn't approve.
It's probably why you haven't told him. He wonders how bad it must be. Secrets aren't something really kept between the pair of you.
There are things he hasn't told you - parts of his past he'd rather keep buried - but he doesn't actively hide himself from you. He thought you did the same.
Apparently not.
He arrives home with no new message from you. It's five thirty, and even though he's a little pissed with the sudden change in your attitude towards him, he can't bring himself to take it out on you.
JK: I'm home, asshole.
JK: Dionysus ain't the same without a disco ball.
Tossing his phone down onto his sheets, Jeongguk stares up at his ceiling. There's never been a complicated weight to your friendship, but he's also never been in the dark before.
Above him, origami birds dance in the light breeze coming from his aircon unit.
There's a dozen strung up from his paper folding phase six months ago, when he was trying to get his mind off of the girl whose initial had been scratched out of the soles of his shoes. Thought that if she came back, she'd find the birds endearing.
Kept them up just in case. Now, he just keeps them up as a reminder: You've gotta let wild birds fly away. Can't keep them caged up.
And it's funny, cause the strings the birds hang from feel like a cage for his thoughts, now. They get tangled in the spokes, your name wrapping around the bars. He can't keep you in a cage, either. Can't expect you to be as you always have been with him, just because it's the 'norm'; can't expect you not to have a life without him.
You:  does your apartment need one?
JK: A disco ball? Don't think so?
Truthfully, he thinks a little disco ball would be fitting strung up with all of his birds.
You: gaaawd, ur such a boy
You:  i'm   asking if i can come over :(
He tries not to read into the unhappy face, but it has him sitting up, replying just as quickly as his heart is beating. There's something amiss, and he doesn't like it.
JK: Oh. Now?
You: no, next week
You:  yes now, doofus
JK:  It's 5am?
He doesn't know why he's being like this. Difficult. Perhaps he is a bit bitter. Petty.
You: this isn't a booty call lmao, chill out
You: i'll be there in 15
JK: Do I get a choice?
He's smiling as he sends the message, and hopes you'll read it in the tone he intends. He's bantering, trying to deflect from the heaviness he can feel in your text thread.
He's relieved when you reply just how he hoped you would.
You: no x
JK:  See you in 15, db x
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AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT
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nshtn · 1 month ago
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Flashbacks
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Wesker, suffering through the onset of Uroboros infection brought on to save his life after being poisoned with PG67A/W, must contend with its' delirium demons.
453 words, snippet, tags: medical malpractice, ptsd, Umbrella Executive Training Facility, conditioning mention, corporal punishment mention
The smell of cleaning chemicals in the air, as if just opened, is suddenly overwhelming. His reaction is unburdened by inhibition and unshackled by the slow settling of the delirium phase like the sickening coating of mildew on the corpse of a decaying tree.
Or the onset of rabies.
Wesker can make out the emotion, though, volatile and... and afraid.
...of what?
His golden slit-shaped pupils land on the Umbrella logo in his periphery and there is nothing left that can prevent the clicking of recognition behind his addled lens.
–...Discipline. Obedience. Unity. It leads to power. Power leads to life. A time when he has been strapped to a cot like this one crosses over unwillingly. The white-coats are monitoring his reactions to media he never wanted to see. They are testing to see ‘how it’s going’. They won’t tell him what ‘it’ is, because ‘then the pieces will never lead to the broader picture’.
This is how it is. This is the way of the world. The world is so sickening to him. One day, he’s going to douse it all in isopropyl alcohol and start over...
...Constant tests, isolation, voices of doctors long gone, cold detachment a savior, the crown of thorns that kills the wearer’s humanity but spares them the wheel. There is no escape. Nights spent listening to the gnarled voice of Oswald Spencer crackling over a speaker he cannot turn off...–
Wesker’s eyes are glassy and unfocused. They’re called to somewhere else, deep in the mind and aching to writhe back out. He is locked in a hell meant to spur him into violence...
–The answer is that you feel the pain and you don’t care that you feel it. Instead, you take the pain, and you put the pain somewhere else, for later. Then, you won’t feel anything at all, even when the ruler hits you, when the whip cracks, when something you know you can never get back is torn from you.
The child is so happy certain he has found the answer to this test, so why do they keep hitting him?
Discipline. Obedience. Unity. It leads to power. Power leads to life. You will have life only in power, and you will get power only when you unify everyone under you. This is no place for kindness. There is no place for empathy. There is no place for...–
Wesker is pathetic, humiliated and infuriated all at once. His breath hitches, canines bared with an affected glint as he shoves himself up against the wall the cot is up against, the force of it making it rock and the BD Alaris attached to it beep softly.
He curls tighter, tendrils coiling and twisting in agitation.
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weevil-wallflower · 6 months ago
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Scars
Cal Kestis x Reader
Summary: Even a Jedi Knight needs some reassurance from time to time.
Warnings/Tags: Spoilers for Jedi: Survivor, canon-typical violence, SFW, no use of Y/N, minor angst.
A.N.: My fifth entry for Cal Kestis Week 2024! It follows the Day 4 prompt ‘Scars’. I've been meaning to get this one out like four days ago, on the last day of Cal Kestis Week but unfortunately work and studies prevented me from finishing it on time. And yes, another older prompt but I simply had to use this idea! Gif by me!
Also on AO3!
Word Count: ~1,600
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The final moments of Cal’s fight with Dagan were a blur of pain and fury. As the duel between Cal and Dagan came to a brutal end, Dagan’s lightsaber struck Cal across his chest, sending a shockwave of agony through his body. The sizzling sound of burning flesh filled the air as Cal staggered, his tunic scorched around the fresh wound while his lightsaber clattered to the floor.
The redhead clutched the wound as he felt the charred fabric of his tunic cling to the cauterised wound. The world around him flipped as he collapsed to the ground, his vision narrowing to the sight of Dagan’s triumphant sneer.
Taking in a deep breath and pushing away the pain for the moment, Cal Force-pulled his lightsaber towards him and used one of Dagan’s own hallucinations against him. He focused intently, allowing the Force to shape his image into that of Santari, Dagan’s late friend. The vision caught Dagan off guard, his defense faltering as he grappled with the apparition of the one person who he trusted most. Seizing the opportunity, Cal's lightsaber blazed with lethal accuracy, piercing right through Dagan's chest. Dagan's pained scream was mixed with a sizzling sound as the blade tore through muscle and bone. Cal twisted the sword, guaranteeing a fatal strike.
Just as victory appeared to be imminent, Dagan used the Force to painfully seize Cal's body, suspending him mid-air. Dagan’s voice, filled with rage and desperation, rang through the chamber as he yelled about Tanalorr, his dream fading away. Cal struggled against the invisible grip, his own strength waning.
BD-1, seeing the peril his friend was in, acted swiftly. With frantic beeps and nudges, the little droid managed to wake Bode, who had previously been rendered unconscious by Dagan. Realising the dire situation, Bode aimed his blaster at Dagan and fired, the shot breaking Dagan’s concentration and releasing Cal from his grasp.
With a final lethal strike to across the chest, Cal sent Dagan crumpling to the ground, his body twitching as the life drained from his eyes. Cal stood over him, his chest heaving with the effort and pain of the fight.
Bode slowly approached the redhead, his expression a mix of relief and concern. “Cal, are you okay?” He asked, his voice tinged with worry.
Cal glanced at Bode, his face a mask of determination despite the agonising pain in his chest. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice strained. All he wanted was to get away from there and be in your comforting arms.
Bode studied him for a moment, seeing through the facade but deciding not to press further. He placed a reassuring hand on Cal's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "You did good, brother," Bode said softly, his tone filled with warmth. "Go on ahead. I'll stay and survey the area. And see if I can find a manual for that compass or something..."
Cal nodded, a wave of gratitude washing over him at Bode's support. "Thanks, Bode," he replied, his voice a bit more genuine.
With a final look at his fallen foe and a nod to Bode, Cal turned and made his way back towards Pyloon’s Saloon. Hand pressed to the wound on his chest, each step sent a wave of pain radiating through his body but he forced himself onwards, driven by the need to be with you. He knew that in your arms, he would find the solace and comfort he desperately needed.
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When he finally entered your shared quarters below Pyloon’s Saloon, stumbling in through the back door—most likely to avoid everyone in the cantina—You were already there waiting for him, your expression one of great concern. As soon as Cal stumbled in, BD-1 hopped down from his back, rushing over to You with worried beeps about the Jedi.
“Cal,” You said softly, rushing over to his side. “Let me take a look at that.”
He nodded, his emerald eyes meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and resignation. His tunic sported a burnt slash across his chest where the lightsaber had struck him, the fabric singed and charred around the wound. Carefully, You guided him to sit on the bed, your touch gentle but firm. You gently pried his tunic off, being careful not to aggravate the wound further before You began to examine the injury. BD-1 perched on your shoulder, his beeps and chirps a constant stream of worry as he watched You work.
When the wound came into view, You couldn’t help but gasp at the horrible sight, your heart aching for the pain Cal had endured. The wound was a searing, angry red slash across his chest, blackened at the edges and blistered from the intense heat of the lightsaber.
The silence in your quarters was thick with unspoken words. As You worked, Cal couldn’t help but shakily trail his fingers over the fresh slash on his chest, wincing at the pain but also more at the thought of yet another mark added to his already scarred body. Each one told a story of pain and survival, a testament to the battles he had fought. His body was already littered with scars—what was another?
The redhead’s mind swirled with anguished thoughts. How could You, someone so beautiful and kind, love someone like him? How could You look at his scarred body and see anything other than ugliness—to see someone who was capable of more than just war and violence? The doubts gnawed at him, twisting in his gut like a knife.
After cleaning the wound and sealing it with a bacta patch, You looked up at him, your eyes solemn. “This will scar,” You said quietly, your voice tinged with sadness.
Cal forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, it’s just another one for the collection, right? Sure to impress you...”
Despite his playful words, the tone of his voice was heavy with sorrow. You could see the weight of his past experiences and hardships pressing down on him, the scars not just on his skin but deep within his soul.
You paused, your hands still on his chest and met his gaze with a gentle, unwavering look. “Cal,” You said softly, “you could be doing anything at all—something as simple as planting a seed in the cantina’s garden—and you would still impress me.”
The sincerity in your voice penetrated his defenses, and for a moment, the pain and fear melted away. He looked at You, really looked, and saw the depth of your care and admiration for him. It wasn’t the scars that defined him in your eyes, but the strength, courage and kindness that lay beneath them.
A lump formed in Cal’s throat as he struggled to find the right words. “You have no idea how much that means to me…” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. In that moment, the weight of his battles felt lighter, the burden of his scars less daunting.
You smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of fiery hair from his forehead. “I do, Cal. And I’m here with you, scars and all.”
BD-1 let out a soft, comforting beep, hopping down from your shoulder to nestle closer to Cal to affirm your words.
Under the soft light of your shared quarters, as the tender moment between You and Cal lingered, You were overcome with a sudden urge to reassure him of your love and acceptance, scars and all. Gently, You leaned in and pressed a tender kiss around the fresh slash on his chest, feeling the tension in his body begin to melt away. Cal’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as he absorbed the warmth of your touch.
Moving upwards, You kissed the long scar on his upper right jaw, your lips lingering on the raised line, and tingling from the roughness of his short beard. You then moved to the small scar across his right eyebrow, kissing it softly. Eyes still closed, Cal’s mind was rampant with emotions he could barely contain. His heart pounded in his chest as the contact sent a shiver down his spine. Each kiss was like a balm, soothing the lingering pain and doubts that haunted him.
Next, You placed a delicate kiss on the scar across his nose, before your fingers gently traced the path of the old wound. Cal’s hands, which has been tightly gripping the edge of the bed, slowly relaxed, moving up to rest on your waist as if seeking the comfort and stability that only You could provide.
Finally, You reached the small scar that ran across his lower lip. You pressed your lips against it tenderly, feeling the slight roughness beneath the softness of his skin. Cal’s eyes opened, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The anguish in his heart was replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.
When You finally pulled away, You gazed into Cal’s emerald eyes and saw tears silently streaming down his cheeks. Your heart clenched at the sight, but before You could voice your concerns, he softly assured You, “They’re tears of happiness.”
A giggle escaped your lips, the sound joyful and filled with relief. “I’m glad,” You whispered, wiping away his tears with your thumb. “Because you mean everything to me, Cal.”
Cal pulled You into a tight embrace, his strong arms holding You close as if You were his anchor in a storm. The weight of his scars felt lighter now, due to a reminder of your love and acceptance. And as You nestled against him, You knew that together, you both could face anything, bound by a love that was stronger than any scar could be.
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unsolicited-opinions · 27 days ago
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In April of 2024, Luai Ahmed asked an interesting question on Twitter.
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You protested and turned the world upside down when 30,000+ Palestinians died in the past 7 months. But remained completely silent when:
400,000 Yemenis were killed
500,000+ Sudanese were killed
500,000+ Somalis were killed
5,400,000+ Congolese were killed
etc.
Why?
If this question was put to #jumblr, I'd expect to see a large number of people saying things like "No Jews, no news," and I suspect that's the point Ahmed was hoping to make.
As an exercise in intellectual honesty, I'd like to take this question at face value (AuDHD here) and attempt to answer it.
For the purposes of this post, I'm going to assume Ahmed was asking this question of US campus protesters advocating for BDS policies towards Israel:
To the extent the US is involved in the wars listed in Ahmed's post, the US is, from the majority perspective, aligned with the "good guys."
The only thing the US could really withdraw from Yemen, Somalia, Congo, and Sudan is humanitarian aid and limited protection from religious extremists. Other than isolationists and nationalists, very few Americans support withdrawing aid to refugees in those countries.
For example, the US is not aligned with the armed Houthi aggressors in the Yemeni civil war and does not financially support them. Their slogan is:
God is the Greatest
Death to America
Death to Israel
A Curse Upon the Jews
Victory to Islam
The US is the largest contributor of humanitarian aid in Yemen. There is little, if any, university involvement in the conflict in Yemen. Any increased support for the Saudi Arabia-backed Yemeni government is fraught.
The US is aligned with AMISOM and the UN in Somalia to provide humanitarian aid to civilians and refugees with over a billion dollars aimed at flood, drought, and famine relief. The US has also made many targeted air strikes against groups like of al-Shabaab, Islamic State and the remnants of Al Qaeda. (Unfortunately, these airstrikes have reportedly resulted in at least 21 non-combatant civilian deaths and 11 injuries.)
The US is the largest source of humanitarian aid in Sudan and funds 80% of the World Food Program. It supports neither side in the war and has undertaken specific measures to promote accountability for the actions committed by the two forces, including imposing visa restrictions and levying economic sanctions against leadership. There is nothing which divestment would accomplish other than hastening starvation and depriving people of shelter and medical aid.
In Congo…that’s a mind-boggling catastrophic miscarriage of colonialism and the Cold War the dimensions of which no one can distill into a slogan or policy position. There is probably nothing and no faction in the Congolese war that protests in the US directed at universities or government entities could effectively support or pressure. What would student protestors be calling for the US to do?
So it makes sense to me why US activists would get involved the conflict between Israel and Hamas, but not these other conflicts.
I appreciate Ahmed's determination to fight antisemitism, but I don't think he's making a particularly good point here.
I object to protestors using falsehoods, disinformation, ignorance, Jewish cosplay, or antisemitic tropes in their protesting - but I don't think their protests are fundamentally illegitimate. They might be wrong, they might be foolish, but not in the way Ahmed seems to suggest.
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frost-queen · 2 years ago
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I’ll risk it all for you (Reader x Cal Kestis)
Requested by: anon, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex--awesome--22​, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers​, @merlieve​, @queen-of-books​, @glimmering-darling-dolly​, @denkisclown​, @wildieflower​, @meyocoko​, @bubblybrianna​, @justanothercoco​ @idkwhatmyusernameis,  @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23​, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr​
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You carefully looked where you stepped. Everywhere nothing but green. Kashyyyk was the planet you were on to find a Wookiee chieftain named Tarfful. – “Keep up Y/n!” – Cal called out, turning briefly to you. – “Scared I’ll fall behind?” – you responded with mischief in your eyes. Cal shook his head childishly, mocking your ways. He puffed loud, turning back to the front. His eyes widened when his foot took a step forwards. In a split second wrapped a rope around his ankle, shooting him up in the air. BD-1 having jumped off his back. Cal was hanging upside down, waving his arms around. 
You came closer, laughing your ass off. – “How’s it hanging?” – you asked lowering yourself with a tilt of your head to smile at him. Cal slowly swinging from side to side. – “Can you cut me down?” – he said irritated. You gave him a gentle poke in the chest, letting him swing a bit more, thinking. – “If you say pretty, please.” – you responded. – “Y/n!” – Cal groaned trying to pull his chest up with little success. – “I didn’t hear you say please.” – you made clear, holding your hand behind your ear. – “Can you for one second not be irritating?” – he already felt his blood lower to his head, making him dizzy. 
Shrugging your shoulders, you straightened your posture again. – “Bye Cal.” – you waved him goodbye, taking your leave. Cal pressed his palms against his eyes, groaning. – “Okay, wait!” – he forced out, hand stretched out to you. Curling up a smile, you returned to him. – “Yes Cal.” – you asked keeping him still as you let yourself bend down to meet eyes with him.
“Can you please cut me down…” – he asked. BD deliberately not interfering with your bickering. – “Sure.” – you answered. Pulling out a knife, you cut down Cal. He dropped with a loud thud, groaning at the sudden pain in his back. He came sitting down, untying the rope from around his ankle. – “See that wasn’t that hard, was it?” – you said out loud. Cal’s face stood sour, BD approaching. The droid hopped onto his back before he got up. You took a few steps, pausing to look at Cal behind you. 
“You might want to be careful; I hear there are boobytraps here.” – you teasingly exclaimed. Cal walked up to you, giving you a hard nudge. Making you nearly lose your balance. – “Very funny.” – you called out waiting to see his response, but there never came one. Following close by, you kept your eye out. You had been lucky to have not encountered any stormtroopers on your way. The war on Kashyyyk not being a pleasant one. Stepping up your pace, you took the lead. Taking a halt at a cliff. Cal coming to stand beside you. 
Hands on his hip he took a deep breath. He spotted a vine not that far, pulling it closer with the use of the force. – “So you want to go first or would you rather have us swing cozy together?” – he wiggled with his eyebrows making you roll your eyes. Cal shrugged his shoulders, taking a few steps back. – “BD, hold on.” – he said over his shoulder, gripping on tight to the vine. He started running, setting himself off at the cliff to jump across. You watched as he swinged in perfect balance across, landing steady on his feet.
He turned around waiting for an applause. You clapped briefly for his ego with a sarcastic smile. He gestured to you to be ready to catch the vine. Pulling his arm back, he let it swing hard back. You caught it, grabbing around with your hands to be certain you’d have it. Cal motioned for you to come. Taking a deep breath, you took some uncertain steps back. Running up to the cliff, you squealed loud at the drop off. The vine swung halfway across the cliff when a blaster shot fired your way. It missed you, hitting the rocky wall. 
Cal’s eyes widened, turning to where it came from. Up on another cliffy part, he noticed three stormtroopers. The sudden attack had startled you that much, you’d forgot to jump. Swinging above the deeps, slowing down with each swing. – “Cal!” – you called out in a panic, clamping onto the vine. He gasped loud, eyes wide with fear as you were a clear target now. You screamed, ducking a bit when blasters fired your way, missing you by a few hairs each time. Cal tensed his jaw, stretching his hand out upwards. 
He felt the strong push of the force, but the stormtroopers were too far for him to do any good damage. His eyes stood grant when a shot went your way. He forced his hand forwards, hitting you with the force. The vine got swung hard back to avoid being hit. You called it out, swinging hard back. There wasn’t much he could do. He needed to think quickly to avoid any concerning troubles. – “Y/n!” – he shouted. – “Hang on and when I tell you to, you let go and leap forwards.”
“What?” – you panicked at how ridiculous dangerous that sounded. – “Just trust me.” – he said in return. You nodded shakily as Cal used his way to make the vine move. You got blasted back, making you swing back. Blasts firing above your head. You went one more back, till you swung strongly back. – “Now!” – Cal shouted running up to the edge. You let go, jumping as you blind fully trusted Cal. Cal held his arm out for you to catch. Your fingers brushing over his lower arm down to his hand in the hopes he’d catch you. 
A blast fired Cal’s way making him flinch. You gasped loud, feeling your fingers brush against his, nothing afterwards. – “No!” – Cal screamed out; hand reached out down when he saw you fall. Your screams dying out down the pit you were falling. Cal got up, taking no second to dive headfirst after you. Hand stretched, wanting to reach for you. You had no idea what was below, eyes fixated on Cal who desperately tried to reach you. Light as a feather, you closed your eyes waiting for the worst. Then your back crashed against something hard, followed by wetness. 
Cal fell down into the waters, reaching for your body under water. You felt an arm go around your body, being pulled to the surface. Cal and you gasped above water. – “You okay Y/n?” – he asked worriedly, one hand pressed against your wet cheek. You splashed water in his face, confusing him for a second. – “What were you thinking!” – you called out furious. – “What?” – Cal replied confused. – “Why’d you jump so recklessly after me!” – splashing more water at him, you were angry that he would do something that stupid.
“I don’t know! I just did!” – he shouted back, getting as equally worked up as you. – “You could’ve been killed!” – you called out, arms trembling from the raw emotion. – “So could you!” – Cal responded loudly, staring intensely at you. Both holding that fierce gaze even when BD beeped loud on Cal’s back. Cal and you puffed, looking away. The two of you swimming to a little green island. Cal shook his leg in an attempt to dry it faster. You squeezed the water out of your clothing. A deep sound came from the caves not far from the little island you were on. 
It made you stumbled back against Cal. Cal holding you by the shoulders. – “Don’t tell me you are scared Y/n?” – he smirked, looking over your shoulder down to you. – “I am. Not.” – you confidently replied. Another sound made you shriek, clamping onto Cal. – “What was that Y/n?” – he laughed, all smug looking. You looked frightened around. – “It’s probably one of those spider creatures.” – he teased. Your eyes widened frantically, making you almost jump into his arms. Not wanting to be on the ground if it was. Cal laughing louder than ever at how needy you were. – “This isn’t funny Cal!” – you said rudely. – “You know I am deadly afraid of those things.”
“I know.” – he whispered in your ear, unable to hide the power it gave him. You pushed yourself off Cal, having a shudder go down your spine. – “It is probably nothing, Y/n.” – he reassured you. You weren’t so sure. Cal pointed at the caves as it was the only way away from this place. Swallowing nervously, you followed quietly. Darkness embraced you like a cloak when you entered the cave. BD turning his head lights on to light the way. 
Cal extracting his saber as it gave a faint light, reflecting against his face. Looking over his shoulder, he made sure you were close by. BD bleeped curiously, his lights beaming off the walls. Venturing deeper into the gaping cave’s mouth. You reached out to Cal, startling him. – “It’s just me.” – you said nervously. He took a deep breath, taking your hand. Guiding it to his belt where he insisted on you taking a hold off. This way he’d know you were close. Cal lowered his lightsaber when he came at an open space. Light from above falling into the pit. BD’s light dimming. 
The sunlight making you close your eyes for a second to adjust to it. Cal took a moment to observe. – “We can climb up right there.” – he pointed out. Not hearing you response, made him look down to his belt. Your hand wasn’t on it anymore, making him lift his head back up. – “Y/n?” – he said concerned, looking around. He found you standing not far from him, standing stiff. He walked up to you, tugging on your arm.
When you wouldn’t move, he knew something was wrong. BD bleeping warningly, making him look up. From a hole lighted up a few eyes. Cal gasped watching one of those spider creatures crawl out of it. His eyes widening, knowing how much you feared them. He pulled you behind him. – “BD! Stay with her!” – he ordered. The little droid jumping off his back. Cal readied his lightsaber with a twirl. He was about to launch forwards when he spotted another one coming. Soon three or four more came crawling out, making him back up. 
BD jumping warningly in front of you to move. You backed away, falling over a rock. – “Get back!” – Cal called out, waving his lightsaber around. BD moving frantically in front of you daring one to even come near you, for he would protect you till his last bleep. Cal launched forwards, striking his lightsaber at one of the spider creatures. Needing to keep his eyes on the others as well. From the corner of his eye, he saw one make his way over to you. Cal spun around, pulling the creature back by the way of the force. Gritting his teeth, he let it drop near him, sticking his lightsaber through it. With three at a time where they hissing and tapping their front legs forwards to Cal. Your heart beating out of your chest, too scared to move. Cal rolled back to block one’s path to you.
He fought them fiercely knowing how much it meant to you. Ready to fight them off for you. He struck another one down as two more appeared through the crawling space. One running rapidly over to BD and you. Your eyes wide with fear. BD electrocuted it as it only stung a bit. Cal shot his hand out, forcing it to be dragged back. He gasped when something sticky wrapped around his hand. 
The spider creatures fighting back. Moving his hand down, he started tearing it off. Two more spiders hissed their web his way. Making him drop his saber, hands bound together. Inhaling sharply was he now defenseless. They started surrounding him as he struggled to get free. Your eyes fixated on Cal, hearing him struggle. The urge to help him screaming louder inside of you. But what of those creatures you feared for so long. BD hopped on one foot, the other sticking to his body with a web. 
Slowly your friends were endangering themselves. Taking frantic breaths, you needed to act now. Something snapped inside of you, seeing them tackle Cal to the ground. Jumping up, you screamed it out, blasting at them. Cal turning his head in surprise at you. You kept firing, screaming out your rage. The spider creatures got several hits. One lost it’s leg as another one had pus trailing down it’s body. You got closer to them, acting on adrenaline to save your friends then to give in to your fear.
One exploded making Cal roll away. They started backing away to the hole they came from. You wouldn’t let them escape, taking your revenge on them. One by one shooting them till they died or exploded. Out of breath, you lowered your blaster. Cal frantically freeing himself to get to you. Knees buckling, they gave in, letting you drop down. Cal rushed in front of you, taking you by the shoulder. – “Are you okay Y/n?” – he asked worriedly. 
You let your hand rest against his cheek, catching your breath. Cal’s gaze moved rapidly over yours, taking a deep breath. – “You… you fought them Y/n… you actually fought them…” – he said half smiling. Touching your cheek he was very proud of you. – “Why? What made you overcome your fear?” – he asked. – “You…” – you responded. – “I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch losing you.” – you added, pulling yourself a bit up by his uniform. 
Cal let his finger brush against your cheek, sucking in a deep breath. Leaning in as he pressed his lips onto yours. Moving his hands to your lower back, pressing you closer to him. You kissed him passionately back. BD bleeping made you pull away. Cal got up to retrieve his lightsaber. You smiling admiring at him. He noticed it, chuckling. – “Are you going to continue drooling over me Y/n? or are you actually going to be helpful?”
You gave him a roll of your eyes. You walked up to him, standing near him to look upwards. – “It’s a pretty high climb.” – you stated. Cal moved his hand around your back, pulling you towards him. – “I know.” – he whispered before stealing a kiss from you. You gave him a playful slap for being so silly. – “Lucky for you, I can get us up in no time.” – he answered walking up to the wall. You followed, pushing him back with your bottom against his front. 
“I go first.” – you insisted. Cal smirking. – “Of course you are.” – he chuckled. You started the climb as Cal was right behind you. – “Eyes up Cal!” – you called out. – “Oh they are up.” – he replied mischievous. You looked down seeing him look up to you smiling. Rolling your eyes, you knew he was just enjoying the view. In no time were you back up to continue your search for Tarfful.
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cosmic-castor-canadensis · 1 month ago
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Glitch Photoshoot
Whenever I run into a glitch in Jedi Survivor, I make sure to stop and take a picture, because I think they're funny. Here are some of the best glitch pictures I've gotten, with commentary and a light attempt to rank them from least to most funny:
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Cal found a way behind a wall climb in the lucrehulk, but he got out again.
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BD-1 got stuck in some quicksand and couldn't scan anything!
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Koboh needs a new interior designer. The floating things, stuffed(?) Mogu heads and fridges(?) need better homes.
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These two are "things not meant to be seen from that angle" and range from pretty cool (underneath the floor of Cere's Archive) to cursed (the inside of Cal's head).
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Skoova's boat decided to go fishing in a Force Tear.
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Cal decided to start walking backward very slowly. Through the air, through buildings and rocks, all the way to the edge of the map.
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I call these "Bad Parent Cal Kestis."
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