#have some feels

[kanerallels]

Trick or treat 💜

*cracks knuckles* Let's see if I can do this justice

If Hera had thought being without Kanan was hard before, it was nothing compared to now after she had Jacen.

She’d been granted maternity leave (a very tired looking Princess Organa told her to take as long as she needed), and was spending it on Lothal. Governor Azadi had appointed a specific landing platform for the Ghost, and that was where Hera stayed. She couldn’t quite bring herself to visit the comm tower where Ezra had lived, not yet.

Often, she wasn’t alone. Zeb would be there as often as he could, as would Sabine. But they had their own responsibilities, and Hera wasn’t about to divert anything from the Rebellion. Her father had visited a few times, but it was hard for him to get off of Ryloth.

So more often than not, it was just her, Chopper, and Jacen. And while she was so, so grateful for the gift that was her son…it was hard.

He cried. A lot. Hera sometimes wondered if he somehow remembered the trauma she’d gone through while carrying him, if the pain of that and losing his father was still inside him. But more likely, he was just a baby, who cried when hungry or cold or pretty much whenever he needed anything. She vaguely recalled her little brother crying, too, before they’d lost him.

It had been months since she last had a full night’s sleep. If Jacen’s cries didn’t wake her—and they usually did—dreams of fire and blue-green eyes did. She was tired, and trying so desperately to take care of her son. But Hera felt like she was one step away from falling apart.

She couldn’t, though. She didn’t have a choice. She had to hold it together for Jacen.

As it turned out, it relaxed Jacen to be held, especially when she was moving. So Hera started spending a lot of time walking, with him cradled in her arms or strapped in a sling to her chest. She started exploring the streets of Lothal when she wasn’t helping Ryder with the relief work, pacing the lengths of them time after time. Often, she’d pass places she recognized—Old Jho’s, the bombed out shell of the Bridgers house. Or other times, she’d see a piece of graffiti by Sabine, and wonder when she was here. If it was recent or long ago, back when life made sense.

One day, she was walking through a tangle of neighborhoods, most of the houses burned away. Sabine had recently commed, saying that she was coming back to Lothal. She hadn’t said why, but the heaviness in her voice said it all. Her and Ahsoka’s search for Ezra was still fruitless, and Hera’s heart twisted at the thought. At the fear that he might actually be gone for good.

She tried to hide the fear and sadness she felt, but Jacen seemed to be picking up on it anyway, because he simply would not stop crying. No matter how much she rocked him, humming one of the songs that soothed him the most, he wailed steadily on.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she whispered to him, bouncing him up and down lightly. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

“Excuse me.”

A gentle voice cut through Hera’s spinning thoughts, and she looked up—meeting a pair of blue-green eyes. For a moment, she was paralyzed, and then she registered the sight of an elderly woman, silver hair pulled back from her face, which wore a warm but concerned expression.

“Can I help you?” she asked. “Please.”

Any other time, Hera would have demurred, would have told her she had it handled. But the combination of exhaustion and Jacen’s cries and the startlingly familiar eyes somehow overtook her brain, and before she knew it she was handing her son over to the woman, who introduced herself as Devorah.

To her shock, Jacen quieted quickly as the woman sang gently in a language Hera didn’t recognize, staring up at her with wide blue eyes. Apparently, many human children started out with blue eyes. Hera harbored a secret hope that Jacen’s eyes would change to look like his father’s.

“What a precious boy,” Devorah murmured. Giving Hera a sympathetic look, she said, “You look exhausted, General. Haven’t you been sleeping?”

“Not as much as I want to,” Hera admitted. “But—how did you know—”

“I’ve seen you around the refugee camps,” Devorah explained. “Everyone’s quite impressed with how much you’ve been doing, particularly with a newborn baby. But I know how hard raising a new baby can be.” Pausing, she said, “I take it his father is—”

“Gone,” Hera said, hating the ache in her throat and the sting in her eyes. “He—he died to save us.”

Devorah’s expression softened. “Then your little boy has two heroes as parents. But I have a feeling that’s little comfort.”

“You could say that,” Hera agreed.

“Hmm. I lost my husband to the Empire,” Devorah told her. “He was brave, too, but…it doesn’t prevent us from missing them.”

Hera suddenly found the tears in her eyes spilling forth. “No,” she whispered. “It doesn’t.”

And to her profound relief, Devorah didn’t hesitate before pulling her into a hug.

After that, she saw quite a bit more of Devorah. The refugee camps housed those who were displaced after Thrawn’s orbital bombardment, and Hera had been working there as much as possible to help. Now that she’d met her, Devorah seemed everywhere at once—cooking, helping put up tents, cheering up children and encouraging parents and singing, always singing.

(it reminded Hera, as too much did, of Kanan. How he’d told her once that the only memory he had of his life before the Jedi Order was of a voice, singing to him, and after that Hera had made a point to let him catch her singing as much as possible.)

The camps were overcrowded, and work to get people their homes back was slow. A lot of people were sharing tents, and some didn’t have one to begin with. When Hera realized that Devorah was one of those—she’d given hers up to a pair of children, whose parents had died in the bombings—she’d immediately, impulsively, offered to let Devorah use one of the spare rooms on the Ghost.

(there was only one real spare room. Hera almost never went in there, not anymore. But somehow, it felt right to let Devorah use it.)

Having someone else around all the time brought a little light to Hera’s life. And it helped a lot to have someone look after Jacen so she could catch a little extra sleep every now and then.

It helped that Jacen loved Devorah. He’d light up when she was around, babbling to her, and she’d listen and laugh like he was actually talking. “He’s such a sweet boy,” she told Hera one day. “He reminds me of my son at his age.”

“You had a son?” Hera asked, not quite surprised, and Devorah nodded.

“And a daughter. She left to fight the Empire, although I hear from her pretty often. And my son���” Devorah’s usually cheerful face fell, an old sadness in her eyes. “He’s gone, too. For longer, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Hera said slowly, and Devorah glanced at her.

“It’s quite alright. He didn’t die, exactly, although I’d say it’s not impossible he’s gone at this point. He was a Jedi.”

The word went through Hera’s heart like a knife, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. “A Jedi?” she managed finally.

Nodding, Devorah said, “Yes. I was sad to let him go but, oh, how proud. We knew he’d change the galaxy someday. I was sure of it. Our family never bought into the Empire’s lies about the Jedi, and I always wondered if he’d made it.”

“What was his name?” Hera managed, and she knew. She just knew, before Devorah spoke with a gentle, wistful smile on her face.

“Caleb,” she said. “Caleb Dume.”

[tooxmanyxships]

for the prompts, dando break up and make up? or they get into a bad fight n lando thinks it’s over but daniel comes back n then fluff <3

I'm missing Dando so much lately so yeah. I FINALLY went back into my inbox to look at prompts and just had to respond to this one.

It was so fucking stupid. But weren't all fights between couples pretty stupid?

Those between Lando and Daniel definitely were.

Lando couldn't even remember why they were fighting....

It probably all started with one of them making a joke, that's usually how it went with them, which suddenly turned into an argument.

Then one of them would slip up and say something nasty, most likely Lando; if he was honest with himself.

This was usually settled pretty quickly, because Daniel always forgave him. Lando was aware of that.

He tried not to take advantage of it, but sometimes he thought Daniel forgave him a little too easily.

But not this time.

This time Daniel hadn't listened, no matter how many times Lando said sorry and exclaimed that he didn't mean it.

Maybe he'd taken it too far this time. If only he could remember what he said.....

It was in the heat of the moment.

It was also in the heat of the moment that Daniel had slammed the door as he left the apartment.

He didn't even take his key.

The key was still sitting next to Lando's in their usual spot so they wouldn't lose them.

Daniel was gone.

He wasn't coming back.

Lando stuffed himself into the corner of the couch and made himself as small as he could, folding himself into a ball.

He played with the bracelets on his wrist, which usually calmed him down.

It did this time too until his eyes caught onto that one special bracelet.

His most precious one.

It was simple, but pretty.

DR3 sitting proudly in the middle.

Daniel had the same one. The only difference that his one said LN4.

3 & 4... People sometimes joked that they were made to be teammates.

And they had been. But that was in the past.

Some even said they were meant to be together.

And that--- that's what scared Lando so much.

As much as their relationship was built off of a lot of joking and dishing it out against each other, Lando had the tendency to push a little too hard. Too fast.

He wanted to see when Daniel would break. If he would break at all.

Today he had his answer.

Daniel could break.

Daniel could also leave.

And it was all Lando's fault.

~~~~~~********~~~~~~~

Lando didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, still folded in on himself, forefinger caressing the DR3 on his bracelet over and over again.

Lost in thoughts.

Suddenly he was pulled back to the present by pounding on the door.

The pounding had started off as soft knocks which Lando hadn't been aware of.

He wished he wasn't aware of these pounds either, but whoever this person was, they were relentless.

Lando didn't want to see anyone right now.

"Go away!!!"

Fuck.

When did he start crying?!

"Lando?"

That voice.

No.....

It couldn't be - - - -

"Lan, can you please open the door? I forgot my keys."

Someone was playing a very dirty trick on him here.

"Bear. Please. Open the door."

It's him.

Lando jumped up from the couch and sprinted to the door so fast Jon would be so proud of him.

He gripped the door handle and ripped the door open.

Then he stared.

Stared at a slightly flustered Daniel, who had his hand lifted to pound on the door again and quickly lowered it.

"Finally. I thou----"

Daniel couldn't even finish his sentence because the wind was knocked out of him as Lando propelled himself into his chest.

He was frozen for a second, but he immediately came back to life when the sob reached his ears. And his heart.

"I thought you left me."

Daniel quickly wrapped his arms around the younger boy.

"Oh Lan. Never. I would never leave you. No matter how much you try to push me away."

Sometimes he forgets how well the Australian actually knows him.

"But you...." a sniffle. "You left your key."

"Forgot. I forgot my keys. Couldn't even go for a drive so I just took a walk instead."

That Lando could believe. Daniel was prone to forgetting things like that.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's okay."

"No. I shouldn't have said what I did."

Silence.

"You forgot what you said, huh?"

Lando tensed. "I---"

Whatever he was expecting to happen, it wasn't the laugh that bubbled out of Daniel's mouth.

"Keeps on picking fights with me and then completely forgets about them."

A soft whine. "I don't mean to..."

"I know. I know you don't mean to." He turns his head to press a kiss into Lando's curls. "That's why I always come back."

A rustle. Some shifting. Two sets of eyes meeting each other.

"Always?"

"Always. I promise."

A sigh of relief. Head meeting shoulder. Face hiding in the crook of the older man's neck.

"I love you."

Don't leave me again.

"I love you too."

I never will.

[ask-reindeer-dad]

It's December.

[justsasuke]

"Juugo, Juugo listen to me".

Sasuke kneels on the wooden floor. Right in front of the large man who is hunched over and quivering from the sheer effort of holding back what seems hellbent on consuming him.

Juugo's hands are clutching either side of his head and when he hears Sasuke's voice he presses his fingers deeper into his skull, as if he's physically trying to fight the brutal urges back.

"no." His head jerks back and forth. His words are grated through clenched teeth. "go away. Please get away"

Sasuke's eyebrows furrow, worry creasing lines near his eyes. He sees how hard Juugo is trying to keep himself under control and he thinks about how terrifying it must be for the gentle nin when he just can't anymore.

"Juugo look at me"

He takes Juugo's face in his hands and raises the man's head until amber eyes meet deep onyx.

"I can't stop it" Juugo pleads, fingers clutching at Sasuke wrists. "It won't stop"

Sasuke can see the shadow of the monster that isn't Juugo forcing it's way into his face. He can see how Juugo is still fighting it even as the angry burn like marks are crawling painfully across his skin.

It breaks something in him to see Juugo like this. It always breaks something in him.

"it's ok" Sasuke assures, and his eyes change slowly, carefully, kindly to red "you don't have to fight it on your own, I'm here"

[nerditudes]

@stellarhistoria liked for a ZACK starter

"The buster sword suits you."

Zack Fair-- the man who should have died-- but didn't.

Or at least-- he had? Maybe? Some strange twist of fate had led to him surviving his last stand. He wasn't sure how or why. But he had been driven to Wutai-- like a moth to a flame. It was like something inside Cloud called out to him.

Like a beacon.

"I'm glad you're alright, Cloud. I was pretty worried about ya-- but look at you now. I hear you're a mercenary-- and you made quite a name for yourself back in Midgar."

[pyramultimuse]

Would you still fancy Remus if he "falls". Probably of your doing to... ❤️

Crowley would feel heart broken if Remus fell. He would feel tremendous guilt because it would most certainly be because of him or them being together. He would still call him Angel and would keep Remus away from hell and any other demons. Very overprotective and likely fall into depression. Heaven wasn't all good but he never wanted Remus to lose his connection with the light.

[firsthumandisaster]

Do you wonder what it would be like if the ships never crashed?

Curious anons || Accepting always

There was a silence for a long moment. Vash wanted to say "no, of course not" but...the truth is, he did. Or... he used to.

"The thing is..." Vash's hands folded together, eyes downcast to look at the way his flesh and metal fingers wove together. "I try not to anymore, because it was making it hard to function in the here and now."

He used to have vivid dreams of still being on the SEEDs ship, with Rem and Nai and nothing ever happened to cause the crash. He dreamed of Nai opening up about Tesla and how it had hurt him, Rem spent time with him and he'd learned to trust her again.

They were growing up, and Rem was growing older. Sometimes the dreams would span many many years, and they met other crew members, found their place among them. Took care of the Plants while the humans slept.

Vash sniffed hard, taking in a deep breath, fighting down the emotions that welled up, remembering those dreams.

"They were....wonderful, the dreams but... When I woke up, the guilt of being part of the reason we are on this sandy planet just.." A tear slipped out in spite of his best efforts.

"If we could have found a green planet, and worked together... Rem could have watched the humans and Plants make a real home, and grow old with some kind of happiness. Proud of her two sons because we helped make it possible..." A sob choked the words to a stop. Why? Why was this hurting him so much, now?

Perhaps the end of his life being so at hand had something to do with it. The black hair had advanced so much recently... a reminder of his power and his dwindling. Perhaps its only that the question came to him when his emotions were set on edge already.

A long, tense moment, and Vash could breathe again. He sighed and shook his head.

"But...There's still time to make up for what happened. We may never leave his planet, but, there is still hope. I can't stop now.."

[khakerskayavdova-arch]

@shieldretired​ liked (x) for a starter

“ she really trusted you... ” faina says quietly, staring up at the starry night sky. not quite as dazzling as it looked over the tundra when there were no lights around for hundreds of miles. but, better than manhattan by far. “ natasha. that does not come easily in our line of work. ”

[robyn-i-guess]

liking someone platonically is so embarrassing like. yeah i admire you. yeah i think about you all the time. yeah i look forward to every time i see you even if it's only for a minute. yeah it's all platonic and yeah i couldn't explain this because it'd sound romantic. fucking hell

[straightlightyagami]

u ever see someone with extremely fucked up views (or actions) and think wowww if a couple of things in my life went the tiniest bit differently that would have been me

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[welshpunches]

don't you have a dark side?

PROMPTS FROM WHEN HARRY MET SALLY // accepting .

there's been so much bloodshed , so much suffering and death . and yet , they always found each other . . . in wales . she sighs at his question , deducing that jack wasn't in a place where he wanted to be . nor where he needed to be . but , she's grateful he made the time . grateful to see her friend again . watching the sun catch the sea , twinkling with every motion , the water rippled and fractured the beams as they dispersed .

❛ not like yours . but . . . it's there . after tosh and owen , after ianto . . . i'm different . ❜ placing a hand over his , an act of reassurance . but also , a reminder that torchwood was still them whether they liked it or not . whether they would get back into the game again , or they'd leave it buried and get on with their lives . ❛ i can be very dark when rhys insults my cookin' . . . ❜ she tried to flash a smile , trying to sift through the pain of the last few years . offering a classic sense of humour to a situation where it was not welcome .

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[cloudcastor]

We finish this, Together.

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[acciokaidanalenko]

Hey, this has an accompanying fic now! I took my grief and gave it to my poor babygirl, Kaidan 🥺 AO3 link: here.

Summary: The Reaper War is coming to a close. They only have one more thing to do: make it to the beam. But the mission doesn't go according to plan, and now they have to say goodbye.

The hardest goodbye... 🥺💔