#i feel like faith was not particularly hung up on the songs... though she did get the most earwormy one

[doritofalls]

i love the cult radio for far cry 5 because you can draw an exact scale on how much each of the seeds cared about their respective songs from john to jacob.

[byorder-fanfic]

How They Look After You When it Gets Bad: Bonnie

Preference Masterlist

Requested by anonymous

Word count: 1727

Warnings: Reader going through a hard time, suggestive comments, swearing, Bonnie gets hurt (emotionally), not favourable descriptions of Small Heath (apologies to any Brummie readers- it’s for the plot)

Author's Note: Hi! I’ve had some trouble with the Ada and Finn preferences so I’m mixing up the order a bit. Those who’ve requested, your fics will be out soon! If there’s any other characters you want me to write for, feel free to make any more requests. Hope you enjoy and I’m wishing you all my best

(Gif by @sophieshelby) 

The Golds were travellers. It's what you loved the most about their life, the life that you jumped into in the greatest leap of faith that came with loving Bonnie. Now, whilst watching him ditch button-ups in favour of short vests, giving you full view of his lean arms attacking bags and people with so much strength was fun, it was the wind in your hair as you sat behind him on his horse, arms wrapped around his middle, it was huddling up in your shared bed in the caravan and arguing as to whether or not you could fit another ugly knitted blanket on top of the rest of them, and the maps you kept in a drawer that was slowly becoming more crosses than roads with all the places you've visited- it was that which made you love this life all the more. Plus, living with you Bonnie and his family (who had welcomed you with open arms the second Bonnie introduced you) created a second home, a home that lived on wheels and trotted down dirt paths. You knew that Bonnie getting his boxing licence would make the travelling come to a halt, and Small Heath would have to be home for as long as there was a job to be done and a reward to be reaped. And you were okay with that. You really were. Maybe there were a few tears as you hugged Esmerelda, Naomie and especially little Floss (she was desperate to see Bonnie go head to head with the Peaky Blinders!) goodbye as they continued travelling, you knew Bonnie felt the absence of his sisters more than you would. So, you made sure he never felt lonely, and the bed never felt empty; well, it wasn't as if it was a particularly difficult task to keep him company.

Small Heath was not a particularly enthralling place. Although you were on friendly terms with the Shelbys and their clan (and that was no exaggeration, they multiplied like rabbits!) and, after many, many threats from both the elder and younger Gold, none of the younger Peakys were planning on making a move on you, it was the place itself that seemed to bore you. All those things that you'd learned to love from your life on the road- the fresh air, the constant movement, the friendly welcomes when you saw another caravan cross your path, and the freshly caught food cooked over an open fire- there was none of that here. The sky was full of fumes that burnt more than the dark char of over-exposed meat, there was no patches of grass or flowers and everything was so fucking grey. Grey streets, grey sky, and a very grey mood for you. Sometimes, when Bonnie and Aberama were busy with the Peaky business that they left you out of, you'd just go over to the Cut and sit by the water to get even the slightest feeling of being back amongst the rivers and streams where you and Bonnie would set a number of ugly knitted blankets down and spend the night besides. You always thought the sound of water, and the view of the stars was the best way to fall asleep. Bonnie said the best way was next to you. You loved him, you truly did, but things were getting hard. Bonnie was always so busy now, between boxing and whatever the hell Tommy bloody Shelby had him apart of. Wrapped up next to him under all the blankets was the most time you spent with him, and he was usually so spent from work that he was snoring after seconds of laying his head on the pillow. All you could do was hope he didn't wake as you breathed softly next to him, trying to ward off sleep as much as you can just to see him as much as you can. By the time the sun rose, he was already up and at it. In stinking Small Heath.

You didn't want to resent him for bringing you here. You wanted to be proud of him when he boasted about getting his boxing license. You wanted to be happy for him when he came back, completely sloshed, after a night out at the Garrison with the Peaky boys he'd gotten close to, and he smelt like bloody whiskey and cigarettes when he cuddled up to you, drunkenly nuzzling his nose into your neck. You hated whiskey and cigarettes. Well, at least you think you did. You hated everything right now. You had tried to distract yourself from this frustration that was slowly building up in you, especially after you 'accidentally' broke one of the cups Naomie had made. You would pay for that when you saw her again. You had gotten Charlie Strong and Curly's permission to help with the horses in the stables. Eventually, though, you just felt sorry for the poor buggers: trapped in a scrap yard in a place full of people and so little greenery. Of course, you refused to admit you were projecting your own feelings on them. After feeling lonely for too long, you decided to make friends with the Shelbys. The Peaky boys that Bonnie had become fast friends with were nice enough, and Bonnie was happy for the excuse to see you more. As for the Shelbys, you had to be honest, they were a bit bloody scary. Esmerelda had made sure you were prepared for them, and you kept a whittling knife on your person every time you left the isolating sanctuary of the caravan, so you knew full well you could keep yourself safe amongst the blood and gore of the gangsters.

Eventually though these feelings caught up with you. You didn't even bother leaving the caravan today, knowing the streets were only going to further sour your mood and, even the bright presence of Bonnie's sleepy, half-awake smile, couldn't stop your erratic scrubbing of the plates. Ever since the Naoime's-broken-pottery-you were-sure-to-pay-for incident, you had only been entrusted with the metal pots and pans that weren't so easy to shatter. Still, you managed to scrub the metal dish in such a way to rouse the weary boxer. He had the day off, as Arthur had told you the night before when you sat in the Garrison, and the rest of the boys gave such a cheer their whiskey splattered on your dress. Bonnie had blushed, but you could see the hints of mischief in his smirk. And, with Aberama taking last night and today back in Small Heath, there was no misunderstanding Bonnie's intentions. You heard his stumbling foot steps as you moved further out of the open caravan door, focusing far too much on the washcloth and the practically sparkling pot that you still scrubbed.

"Hey, dove," he said in  sing-song tone that usually made your heart melt. Now it made your blood boil.

"Mornin' Bon," you replied back, far too snappy for his soft voice. 

He was startled. You didn't have to see his face to know he had flinched, feeling the sudden twinge of pain in the air like a broken string.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kindly, reaching down to rest his hand over yours. Instantly, you dropped the pan and cloth on the floor, hearing it crash against the soft grass.

"Well, you'd know if you'd have been there!" Along with your swift movement to stand up, the fierceness in your voice made Bonnie back away into the caravan. He saw the frustration clear in your face, and his shoulders hung in shame. He knew he'd been busy- too busy- and it must've hurt you.

"I'm so sorry, dove, I swear I'm trying to do this for us." 

"For you! And all I fucking do is stay in this fucking city!"

"It's not for long- then we can have that life we planned, with the boxing licence and our own caravan and-"

"And I don't wanna be here!"

You screamed it so loud that you were sure the birds in the trees surrounding you had flapped away from your voice like a shot had been fired from one of the Golds' many, many guns. And Bonnie seemed like he wanted to flee too, face so smushed up and hurt.

"I hate this place! It's dirty and cold and it smells like fucking shit!" 

Bonnie felt his whole body crumble at the tightness in your face, the look of pure anger making your fists squeeze in so tight he knew your nails would be digging in. He was the boxer and it was of his opinion that you should never have to raise a fist like this. You must hate him. You must do, and he was feeling his broad shoulders dip at the wildness that flickered in your eyes.

"I don't want to be here!" It was the crack in your voice that revealed yourself. A crack that mended Bonnie's wounded expression into that of concern. You didn't hate him. You didn't. You probably didn't even mind stinking old Small Heath. 

"Then how about we get outta here?" He suggested, giving you that lopsided grin that always made you childishly giddy. Even now, with frustration embedding your palms, you felt a kinder warmth flood to your cheeks. With more confidence, he moved towards you, cupping your cheek as you felt yourself just drop a little without the weight of frustration on your shoulders.

"Please," you muttered, leaning forward to rest your forehead against yours. "I want fresh air and empty fields and a blanket next to a stream."

"Just you and me lying down and looking at the stars?"

"That's all, Bon."

"Then you'll get it. Let's get changed, pack some food and we can get on a horse and just keep on riding, ey?" You chuckled a little at his romantic proposition, burying yourself closing into his grasp. "And get out of smelly old Small Heath that's been keeping me away from my dove."

"You're gonna have a lot of time to make up for." A little bit of frustration still hung in your mind, but the sweet look of adoration on your Bonnie's face was enough to soothe it into a cheeky remark.

"Indeed I do," he whispered into your neck. His expression got sadder again. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

[i-am-the-balancing-point]

Wip It UP

I was blessed by @sinfuels​ with a tag in this so here is what I’m currently working on:

(a sketch of our beloved @josephslittledeputy​‘s Dep Willa in an “A”U)

additionally I’m gonna post under the cut all of what I got of my Sharky fic so far. I have not been able to continue working on that, mostly because I don’t really know how to write the Sexy Time™ but I hope I can work through it in the future cuz it truly is what we deserve (and the actual reason I am writing that fic in the first place lmao).

also, not very much FC related tho: I am working on a piano cover of Lowell’s Bloodthirsty after @josephslittledeputy​ and I watched the movie of the same name together and we were both a little sad the full version of the song was not like the piano version presented in the movie. I just need to get a decent mic for recording but I cannot fudging decide on one bc I have no idea what I’d rly need

if you have recs for usb mics that are nice for recording singing, piano and stringed instruments for around (or even under!!!!) 100 Euros pls hit me up! like 70 bucks is even better

now to the Sharky fic:

Sporadic bursts of fiery clouds lit up the night. The air was hung with thick smoke smelling of burning plastic and the unmistakable stench of gasoline. The heat caressed not only the exposed skin on her face and hands but seeped through the layers of her clothes, despite standing quiet a few feet away from the pile of junk set ablaze in front of her. If it weren’t for it, she would have probably noticed that it was a particularly chilly night, despite it being August. Anger ate away at her insides like the flames were eating away at the scrap wood, old couch cushions, empty packaging and trashed lawn chairs she had previously assemble in front of the old school bus that sat in the middle of Moonflower Trailer Park. Rook grabbed another molotov and chucked it straight ahead, as if she could somehow attach all the frustration and hurt the past days had caused her to the liquid inside. Today had been particularly frustrating. She had been trying to find a way to free Marshal Burke from Faith’s capture, so far to no avail, which was already gnawing on her enough. Not even knowing _where_ to look for them she tried to keep herself busy by running missions for the resistance. It was mostly enough to make her feel like she was at least not a _complete_ waste of space but what had happened just hours before was making her doubt the value of everything they did to fight the cult once more. The hostages Tracey and Leon had taken her to to free from an outpost with, relied on them to get them out of the Peggies capture and to at least bring them to temporary safety. Not only had they failed them but the hostages and Leon had to pay for their ineptitude in completing this relatively simple task with their lives. Tracey and Rook barely made it out alive themselves, horrendously outnumbered by cult members and painfully underprepared for the additional backup the cultists had quickly called once fire was opened. If it weren’t for Tracey yanking her away from the young man Rook was desperately trying to somehow prevent from bleeding out right under her hands, she would have surely met the same fate as Leon. She barely even knew them but it was still painful to be so closely involved in the death of another human being and frustrating to feel so responsible for it (even though there was nothing she could have done to prevent it, really). They had tried to comfort them back at the Hope County Jail but Tracey was having none of it, quickly removing herself from the situation with few words and Rook went to deal with it in a similar fashion. It had been a while now that she sought out soltitude to process her feelings but mindless destruction paired with the heat seemed to be the only thing that could at least provide her with some distraction. She watched the bottle shatter on a log right at the center of the bonfire. The liquid spilling out causing the flames to rise up momentarily. “Yo, Deputy, if you carry on like that you’re gonna make me jizz my pants right here on the spot!” Rook spun around so fast she swore she should have pulled a muscle. How the hell did she not catch him coming closer? He wasn’t a particularly stealthy type. “Fuck! Sharky!” she exclaimed. “The hell you doing here?” A wide grin spanned across his face as he climbed up to her on top of the bus. “Couldn’t sleep. Decided to take my lady for a nightly spin instead.” He nodded to the Flamethrower in his hands. “Ya know, romance and all…” “Are you drunk?” Rookie chuckled softly. He spooked her with his sudden appearance and her insides still burned with the rage of the day but she _was_ happy to see him. “Not more than usual.” That idiot just wouldn’t stop smiling, would he? Rook playfully rolled her eyes, then turned to face the fire again. The next molotov went flying. “Not bad, Deputy.” Now Sharky started up his “Lady” and pointed it at the junk pile. “‘atta decent stack! Didn’t know ya were a fellow fire enthusiast yourself.” “Had a bad day”, rookie replied, facing him briefly to flash him a weak smile. It couldn’t be very convincing. “Is that right?” She sighed, grabbing yet another bottle, getting ready to throw. Too late she noticed that it was slippery from gasoline that had somehow spilled over the outer wall, sending it flying not into the burning pile but between it and her in front of the bus. The glass burst, fluid splattering away to all sides. Her throw had been so forceful that it sent part of its components back up to her with ease. Rook yelped as gasoline met her body. She expected fire to follow it and tear into her skin but nothing happened. Her eyes found Sharky’s. He stared at her. The grin was wiped from his face, replaced by a grimace that resembled a silent gasp. He had abruptly stopped firing his flamethrower. Rook remained frozen, afraid the smallest move would set her aflame somehow, still holding his gaze. Finally Sharky exclaimed “Shit, Rookie! I'll take care a this! Don’t make a move!”, practically launching the flamethrower away from him. He almost wiped her off her feet and somehow got her down from the bus. “Gotta get ya cleaned up before the only thing ya good for is s’mores. Trust me, shit’s dangerous!” He gently pushed her towards an ATV. Had he come up here with that? How did she not hear it? God, she was so stupid! Letting her guard down like that… She was literally playing with fire. Rook was hesitant but still let him. “We’ll get ya all cleaned up. Casa de Boshaw is right around el corner.” Sharky shuffled with his hoody now. She raised an eyebrow in confusion and promptly felt herself blushing faintly, when her gaze skimmed over the waistband of his boxers peeking out from his jeans. Thank God it was nighttime and the colour on her face probably didn’t show. He was strong, muscular (despite all the junk food Rook was sure he was living off). “Err- here”, he pulled the garment over her head. “for… protection. Until we can get ya into something less flammable, I mean, ya know.” She giggled as she pulled her arms up and through the sleeves, then mounted the quad bike behind him. “Hold on tight” he commanded, already accelerating. Having his exposed body so close in front of her made her hesitant to wrap her arms around him. Sharky was a goofy guy and always one to crack the most inappropriate jokes but she still did not want to overstep a line. Instead she grabbed onto the back of her seat as best as she could. They flew over every little bump in the road. He took turns so sharp Rook was now convinced she would not die going up in flames but rather after going airborne and breaking her neck in the subsequent crash. Thankfully his home was not far away and they arrived without either happening, despite some close calls. Rook followed Sharky inside where he gently pushed her towards the bathroom opposite of the front door. She was promptly greeted by the faint smell of more gasoline, gunpowder and old smoke. “Man, you wouldn’t have to do all that…”, she was suddenly embarrassed about the fuss she had caused. “It‘s not that bad, I just got a bit of that crap on me. I could have probably managed.” “Ya looked like a deer in the headlights over there, Deputy”, he snickered. “And the funny thing about gasoline is” he turned on the water in the shower “that it can go kaboom real quick, ya get me? My pawpaw lost half his nuts that way!” She rolled her eyes playfully once more. “Let the water run hot for a minute before ya get in. You’ll freeze ya tits off otherwise.” he called out out to her while leaving for a moment then entering back with a towel and some clothes he shoved into her arms. “I think ya got it from here.” Sharky left and closed the door behind him. With a sigh she set down what he had given her on the toilet lid and began to undress. He was as kind as he was chaotic, that was for sure and admittedly she was grateful for the distraction this whole thing provided, even though she was sure he was over-exaggerating the urgency of the situation. Then again she was also happy to finally have a proper shower and so much privacy. Something the communal washrooms in their resistance camp in jail simply did lack, despite their best efforts to at least hang up some bedsheets to serve as visual deviders. The water was already nice and warm when she entered the stream. All the grime of the days past came right off. Most of the gasoline had been caught by her clothes and the remains fortunately disappeared with some of scrubbing. She made a point to get out of the shower quickly after she was clean to not use up too much of her host’s water. The sweatpants Sharky had set out for her ironically had some small burn holes but the tank top – complete with testicle festival print, of course – he had given her was still comparatively new. Looking at herself in his outfit in the mirror elicited a huge dorky smile from her. Carefully Rook stepped out of the bathroom after cracking the window and into the kitchen where Sharky was moving some stuff around. “Go sit on the roof, I’ll be right there.” Skilfully she pulled herself up from the porch onto the metal panels. It appeared that sharky had expanded his living room up there. At least the many empty beer cans and liquor bottles told her so. She plopped herself down in the single lawn chair that stood on the roof. Her gaze wandered over the peaceful landscape in front of her. Before the cult the only thing you had to worry about out here were mountain lions. A few minutes after, a bowl appeared at the edge of the roof, followed by a blanket and finally Sharky himself, now back in a t-shirt. He pulled a cooler up next to her chair and sat down on it after handing her the bowl and a spoon. “Made ya a special Boshaw-Bowl of cereal to get ya back on track.” He winked. “Sharky, you can't just put clingfilm over a bowl so that you don't have to wash it after!" Rook could barely contain her laughter. "Why not? I ain’t washing dishes no more, it’s a real time saver”, he grinned. “Hey, it’s cold tonight, brought ya this.” Without even asking if she needed it he draped the blanked around her shoulders. A smirk danced across her face. “Thank you, Sharky” she said quietly, more to her cereal than to him. She could feel his eyes on her, his lips still painted with his signature grin. It was good to be assured there were still people in Hope County who cared for her despite every of her failures. They both sat there, looking at the stars that draped across the night sky. What time was it? She didn’t even know but she wished for that brief moment of piece to last a little longer before gunshots and battle cries would became her reality again. “Would it be alright if i held ya hand, Rookie?” Sharky asked after a while. If she had known any better she would have noticed his question to be mixed with a hint of shyness. This surprised her but she was not averse, threading her arm out from the blanket and under the chair’s armrest, lacing their fingers together. A content sigh escaped her lips. “Don’t ya go pulling stunts on me like that again” he jestly grumbled, squeezing her hand lightly. There were no words she could express her appreciation with. Touches without urgency or even violence were something she had almost forgotten. Just like silence that was not loaded with anticipation and electricity. “Sharky…” she pulled her fingers out from his and got up only to promptly settle down in his lap, wrapping the blanket around them both like a cape. Surprised he *something what’s the word again (slung?)* an arm around her waist to support her, his other hand resting on her legs. Rook pulled his face close and met his lips with hers, trying to put everything into the kiss she was not able to convey with words. By how he returned the kiss, the motions of his lips on hers, their tungues gebtly caressing and exploring one another, she was sure Sharky understood. Suddenly she could feel her heart pound so fast she was sure he could feel it thumping through her chest pressed to his. “Yo Deputy, I… er, I didn’t know ya had feelings for me like this.” He was facing her with the expression of a young labrador eyeing its favourite tennis ball. “Dreamed of this for a while now but, ya know, more like ya dream about some ladies on a poster in ya Dad’s garage. I-… Shit, ya look so pretty like his.” This charming idiot was too much for Rook. While grabbing his face, giggling, and pulling him in for another kiss she straddled him, completely forgetting he was only sitting on the cooler, tipping it right over which sent Sharky flying (?that the right word) backwards, Rook on top of him. “Woah there Shorty, careful! Ya gonna get my back all fucked over here.” They both laughed, the sound of it echoing over the landscape. “I know a better spot” He lifted her up, gently dropping himself from the roof, bringing them back into the house and sitting her on top of the kitchen counter. “Ohh Charlemagne” she cooed, grinning into yet another kiss. He peppered small pecks along the corner of her mouth, then trailed along her jaw and down her neck. Giggling, she wrapped her legs around him, while he sucked on the sensitive skin above her pulse, forming little love-marks as he went. Suddenly he stopped and looked at her with an expression she could only decipher when Rook felt a growing erection pressing against her thigh through his jeans. It was embarrassment that tainted his face as he meant to take a step back but was hindered by Rook’s crossed legs behind him. “I- er… sorry.” Rook marvelled at him with wide eyes. “What’s the matter?” “It’s just- you’re my buddy but you’re also so hot and smell nice and I just… I don’t wanna… I want you to want this.” he admitted bluntly. “I do!” she assured. “Sharky, I do. I am sure that I want this, right now. This is good!” His face lit up at her words like the molotovs had lit up the bonfire backs at the trailer park earlier. Rook squealed in excitement as he lifted her up once more, their lips locked, hands on her butt, carrying her down the hallway. Excitedly he threw her on the bed. It was bouncy and creaked a bit but withstood the impact. She bit her lip and smirked. The way he beamed with excitement was beyond adorable! „Aww, Shorty, ya lookin real sexy, in my clothes, ain’t gonna lie.“

[blu-joons]

Halsey Introduces You To The Boys ~ Jung Hoseok

When you were invited to attend the rehearsal for tonight’s Billboards you couldn’t have been happier, with your best friend by your side, you couldn’t wait to see what was going to happen.

“I’m so happy that I could bring you down here, and now you get to meet all of the boys too,” Halsey smiled across at you, wrapping her arm around you. “It’s going to be so much fun Y/N.”

She walked you up to the stage where the seven members of BTS were already waiting for her to start, they all stood up to greet her, and then to you. “Guys this is my best friend Y/N, I’m sure you’ve seen her in a few things on the television before.”

“It’s so good to meet you,” Namjoon, the first member spoke, shaking your hand. You went around all of the boys and then finally to Hobi, who happily introduced himself as the best dancer in BTS. You looked across at him, shaking your head with a wide smile.

For months you’d heard several stories about all of these boys, you’d seen videos of the boys and Halsey going through rehearsals, shooting videos together, but never had you had the pleasure of being able to meet them all in person.

“You’ll have to tell us all her secrets,” Jimin pointed out to you, flashing a wide grin across to Halsey. She shook her head at you, but you bit down on your lip, nodding back to all of the boys when you were sure she wasn’t looking.

All of the boys looked intently at you when you spoke, but one of them caught your eye in particularly. Hobi had been the one on your mind before you met the boys, you’d seen many videos of them dancing prior to meeting them, and of course, being the talent that he was he absolutely caught your eye.

What he didn’t tell you either was that he’d seen you so many times before, a few of your dramas had kept him entertained on journeys and helped him practice his English when he was doing interviews and performances.

“I’ve told Y/N that she can hang out with us tonight and watch the rehearsal now, if that’s good with you all?” Halsey spoke, instructing you to sit down at the front of the stage. They all nodded, moving into position to go through the set for Boy with Luv.

“Y/N make sure you’re looking at me,” Jungkook called out as they got into position.

All the boys laughed, but Hobi didn’t, shaking his head at the maknae. It had caught your attention, smirking as he twirled around, trying to subtly make sure your eyes were on him instead.

Their run through was amazing, you knew that Halsey was talented, but the boys too created the perfect combination, not to mention finally being able to hear the song live too.

“What did you think?” Taehyung was quick to ask you once they’d all finished, moving back to sit around you, “how do you think everyone will like it tonight?”

You nodded, turning around to look at them all, “I think everyone will love it, just do what you did just then, and you’ll smash it.”

The boys all headed back to their dressing room, whilst you and Halsey sat down in a few of the rows of seats in the arena, looking around at it all. “I can’t believe you’re performing here tonight.”

“Neither can I,” she giggled, “I’m so excited to do it though.”

The two of you had been best friends for years, you were right by her side when she had her breakthrough, when her songs started to rise in the charts you were the first person to congratulate her and give her the boosts when she needed it.

For a few hours you both got up to your own things before you reconvened with the boys in order to prepare for the performance tonight. All of them were dressed in their suits as you walked into their dressing room, smiling across at you.

“Hey,” Hobi grinned, quickly appearing by your side, wrapping his arms around you. “How do I look? Will I scrub up well enough to look good on the red carpet.”

You nodded, adjusting his tie slightly, “I’m sure that everyone will be watching you tonight, you look really good Hobi, the colour really suits you.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckled, brushing his hands through his hair. “Have you got a dress for tonight?” He asked, watching as your head nodded, it was hung up in Halsey’s dressing room ready for you to slip into.

“I’ve got a dress, but it’s secret for now, I don’t want anyone seeing it just yet,” you teased, watching his smile grow, staring across at you.

Halsey stood back next to Namjoon whilst the two of you continued to talk, turning to face him. “I think our plan might have worked,” she whispered across to him, “the two of them seem to be getting on better than I thought they would.” “Hopefully by the end of the night he’ll ask her on a date, I can tell there’s a spark between the two of them,” he then noted, smiling as Hobi’s loud giggle could be heard in the room.

“Maybe you could give him a nudge if he doesn’t,” she suggested, “Y/N deserves a bit of happiness, and I know Hobi will be a great guy to make her happy too.”

“Good idea,” he replied, looking down at her, “he’s always so secretive about his feelings, but I think this time around he might finally admit that he likes her.”

Meanwhile, you smiled up at him as he told you how nervous he was to be performing in America again, you had every faith that they would all do the best job tonight on the show.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” you comforted, resting your hand on his arm, “just keep yourself nice and calm, you’ve performed in America before.”

He trusted every word that you spoke, he knew that things would be fine, he had his best friends with him, and when they were around, he had nothing to worry about. He could feel the boys all looking across at him, staring back across at him.

“Y/N, we need to get ready!” Halsey shouted across to you, grabbing a hold of your hand, pulling you out of the dressing room with little time to go before the event started.

“Can you take a moment,” you asked her, struggling to keep up with her as she raced down the corridor to get sorted for the event.

“We need to get you looking perfect.”

Hobi glanced back at the boys trying to figure out what happened as you flew out of the room. Namjoon smiled, beckoning him to come over and sit beside him.

He couldn’t hide the smile on his face, which Namjoon quickly spotted. “Please tell me you’re going to ask her on a date by the end of the night Hobi.”

“What? Y/N, I don’t know if she likes me.”

His head shook, shaking him by his arm lightly. Hobi sniggered, he couldn’t hide the fact he liked you, meeting you in person had been better than he could have imagined.

“She likes you, Ash said so, just go for it, you might regret it if you don’t.”

He sighed, nodding his head across at him, “I’ll do it, once the performance is over and I can relax, I’ll ask her.”

“You won’t regret it, trust me!”

---

Masterlist

[raidbossmadi]

People Like Us : Chapter 8

8. Bonds of Blood Last chapter: Here

Sloane found herself just outside a rural village or at least that’s what she assumed what it was, every time she found herself in this place it was always here, a large temple structure rising into the sky above her and when she looked behind herself there were buildings that ascended up the many mountains in the distance.

As always she felt compelled to walk into the temple and marvel at its high stone walls adorned in ivy and plants of varieties she had never seen in the waking world. A pool of water ringed the room and at its center sat a large statue of a veiled figure bearing four arms extended upwards towards the heavens. At the base of the statue sat two women, who stopped the conversation  they were having and looked at her as she entered.

The one of them was a familiar sight, a tall well built woman with braided white hair and siren markings that trailed up her face to just under her  right eye; she was Helga Steele, the  previous wielder of  the siren power Sloane possessed. The other was slightly shorter than Helga,with long black tucked behind her ears and sepia skin that her blue siren markings contested against, hers also curled up under her right eye; which was a striking ice blue. The markings showed the both of them as adult sirens who had come into the full aspect of their powers. The stranger stayed perched at the statue base while Steele approached the newly arrived Sloane.

“Well met little sister, so you have found your way to Pandora. It is an inevitability that our kind will always be drawn there at some point or another.” Steele said, wrapping her arm around Sloane’s shoulders as she led her back toward the statue base.

“A dangerous inevitability. You should know that better than anyone Helga.” The stranger chided. There was a familiar affectation to the woman’s voice though at the moment Sloane couldn’t place what about it was familiar.  

Steele stiffened at the other woman’s words, a scowl forming on her face. “You have some gall to lecture me. You are not so innocent yourself considering what you did Leda.” Sloane felt a bit awkward hoping the two women weren’t about to fight but was relieved when Leda raised her hands in an appeasing motion.  

“We aren’t here to point fingers Helga, I’d like to think that the reason we are here is a bit more important than the faults we both made while we were alive.”

Steele made a ‘hmph’ of appeasement and gave Sloane a bit of a nudge forward. “Before we continue I think introductions are in order, little sister, this is Leda. She was the wielder of our powers before me. Leda, this is Sloane, current holder of our line.”  

Sloane gave a shy wave not sure how to feel about meeting another Siren who had once had the powers she had now, meeting Steele had been a lot to process the first time. After all it wasn’t normal to travel to an ethereal plain and meet people who were no longer in this world, all connected by a thread of power that had been in the universe for millennia.

“As I was saying, you have made it to Pandora. Leda and I had both been there ourselves in lives and we both understand the danger it contains. I however, do not think you understand the danger, little sister.” Steele said retaking her seat at the base of the statue. “Leda however has more faith in you, which is why she asked to come met with you. You should listen, she is one of the wisest of us.”

Sloane took a seat on the lower step of the statue's base letting the older women have their place on either side of her.

“Why thank you Helga, good to know you still hold me in high regards, even if you don’t agree with my choices.” Leda said, offering the other siren a genuine smile that again reminded Sloane of something. Steele’s lips pursed as she refrained from starting another debate between herself and Leda.

“Helga is right though when she says Pandora is dangerous. If not for its colorful inhabitants I can’t say much good about it at all. I know as well that you are not alone in this journey, which is good. It is always safer to be on Pandora with people you can trust and three Sirens are a powerful force to be reckoned with. Listen closely, the danger of Pandora is one that most Sirens cannot resist. You must understand the map is not what it seems.”  When Leda spoke it was with a soft motherly tone that bade Sloane to listen and heed her warnings.  

“Two Sirens, sister. You really must stop with the boy, surely you can see he is not like us no matter what you want to think.” Steele said, shooting Leda a glance, one that Leda returned in kind colder and with an anger that belied her gentle appearance.

“Is this really what we’re doing right now Helga? Whatever petty bullshit you’re trying to stir up must we really do this in front of the girl?” Leda hissed.

“For last ten years, I have been the one guiding Sloane. Then out of nowhere you decide to finally get involved, I know what games you are playing Leda.” Steele shot back crossing her arms and standing up.

Sloane scooted back up til she bumped into the statues feet, she just really didn’t want to be in the middle of the argument that the two women were having.

“She wasn’t ready to know what I have to teach her, she still isn’t ready for it all. She doesn’t understand the bigger picture, none of them do. You might be angry at my choices  but leave him out of this.” Leda frowned then looked back at Sloane with the same gentleness she had before. “Sloane, sweetheart it was lovely meeting you. We will talk again soon but for now I think Helga and I need to work out our differences alone.”

Sloane watched as the edges of the temple began to dark unnaturally and before long the scene before her faded into the nothingness. ——

Sloane woke up on Tyreen’s couch where she had settled down hours before to watch a movie while the twins were out only to have ended up falling asleep.

“Hey! Sorry I was trying to be quiet, didn’t wanna wake you up, anyway are you hungry?” Tyreen asked peering over the top of the couch. She was still in her God-Queen outfit and given  her apology, Sloane reasoned that her entering the room had been what had woken her up in the first place.  As she looked up at the face of the other siren her memory of the dream came back. Tyreen’s facial features  and complexion were similar to that of Leda's, from the cat-like eyes to the shape of her lips. Sloane of course wasn’t about to assume that Tyreen having a face vaguely similar to a woman she’d barely met meant anything beyond being a strange coincidence.

“Hm? What time is it?” Sloane asked as she rubbed her eyes. The twins rooms were lacking in windows due to security concerns and while she could understand that it made time in the Cathedral bleed together to a degree.

“About noon, I was at my morning meetings. We got our food delivery today so if there’s anything you want that we didn’t have last night now is the time.” Tyreen said in a sing-song tone as she shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the door to her bedroom.

“Do we have those pizza bagels again?”

“Fuck yes we do! Be a dear and start the oven while I change and I’ll take care of the rest.” Tyreen said as she disappeared into her room.

Sloane shrugged off the blanket she’d been burritoed in and went about prepping the kitchen for lunch. She also pulled out her echophone and looked through the notifications on the home screen. A notification that the morning sermon had been streaming, the weather, and several texts from Troy; all of which she scanned and when none of them appeared to be emergencies she swiped them away. She hadn’t seen the male Calypso since the incident and while she respected that he was giving her space if they were going to talk she would prefer it be in person.  

As if on cue Tyreen waltzed back into the room something clearly on her mind. “So Troy, really wants to talk to you. Would you mind if I had him come here, that way you don’t have to feel like you’re alone with him if you don’t want that.” She looked at Sloane expectantly, it was obvious that Tyreen meant well and Sloane had mentioned the last time this came up she wasn’t mad anymore.

“Yeah whatever we can talk, just so long as you’re nearby.” Sloane agreed, not particularly sure she trusted Troy by himself at the moment. She thought of how easy it would be for him to bully her into whatever he wanted with that giant arm of his.  

Tyreen’s demeanor changed, she perked up and flashed Sloane a smile. “Yeah, I'll tell him to come over, go ahead and get ready. I'll take over lunch like I said.”  

Sloane went and changed from her pyjamas into more casual wear  and tried not to overthink the coming interaction with Troy. It would be fine wouldn’t it? This was all just a lack of communication and if the twins wanted to do better she couldn’t fault them for that.  

It wasn’t long before there was a  knock on Tyreens door and Sloane forced herself out the bed room as Tyreen called “Come in Broooo.”

The door slid open and Troy walked in looking a bit awkward himself. When he caught Sloane’s gaze he  gave a small wave then quickly looked away, turning his attention back to his sister.

“Uh hey Ty, Sloane. Hope you ladies have been doing well.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head as he made his way further into the room and leaned against the back of the sofa. It was then that Sloane realized that he was nervous and not at all like the self assured man she thought he was before now.

“Yeah things have been fine, sit down and let’s talk.” Sloane said.  She walked around to the sofa sitting so that there would be ample room for Troy to sit with there still being space between them.

The twins shared a look before Tyreen decided to take her leave heading back into her bedroom but leaving the door open so that she might be easily summoned should things get uncomfortable.

Troy then took his seat on the other end of the couch, his human hand immediately moving to fiddle with his  eyebrow piercing then to pick at the fur collar of his vest as he meant her gaze. “I’m sorry for lying to you. I shouldn’t have waited so long as to not be able to explain things to you.”

“But you’re not sorry for what you did?” She asked, watching him intently. His fidgeting stopped for a moment before his hand went from his collar to picking at the edges of his shoulder plate.

“N-no.” He said after a good minute of silence between them. “I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear but…”

“Stop.” Sloane leaned over and caught his wrist in her left hand. “You’re going to hurt yourself like that.” She said gently.  He squirmed in her grasp and she let go but watched to make sure he wouldn’t go back to picking on himself.

“Tyreen told me you’re sick. She didn’t tell me much but she said it was serious, that it’s killing you.” She watched him shy away from her as she spoke, it was obvious that talking about this was something that made him uncomfortable.

“Yeah that’s my whole life in a nutshell. Ever since Ty and I were born it’s been a never ending cycle of me getting sick and our Mom or Ty stepping in to bear the burden of caring for me. It was a lot worse when I was a kid but…. it’s never going to get better and that’s just something I have to live with, So I don’t want your pity,save it for something that matters.  I know it’s not a burden I should have thrust onto you so suddenly, and while I don’t regret knowing that you can feed me the way Tyreen does I do wish I’d not let my emotions get the better of me and wait so long to try. I should have told you the truth about my health conditions and what we expected from you in regards to them.”

“It’s ok Troy. This is new to me but it’s been both of yours for your entire life. You’re right though if you had told me out of gate I would have been confused but I would have agreed because you need it. I don’t want you to die Troy, and I don’t want you to suffer either. I just want to understand.” She said gently. In her time away from him she realized that she was angry because she just wanted to understand.

Looking at Troy from an outside perspective no one would ever know he was sick, he stayed out of the spotlight that Tyreen craved and when he did appear it was often for short periods of time or calculated that you never really got a good look at him. Here close to him though she could see through those cracks, she could see the bags under his eyes that were usually covered by make-up and how the vest he wore gave the illusion of filling him out when in reality he was dangerously thin. He’d gone out of his way to make sure she hadn’t seen him undress when they had spent the night together and now it was all falling into place.

“It’s… It’s not easy to admit that I need help, not when ya know everyone expects me to be God-King Calypso all the time and I’m not I’m just Troy. If most people knew they’d think I was a freak… I’m not fully convinced that you don’t think I’m one either.” He sighed running his hand through his hair.

“Then I’ll just have to keep working at it until you believe me Troy. I understand the part you both want me to play in the Children of the Vault and it’s one I’ll take willingly. I want to help, to be here for you, both of you. I want to do what I can to make your lives easier. All I ask in return is that you stop hiding from me. I’m an adult woman, I can handle you at your best and your worst if you just let me in.” She knew it wouldn’t be easy. It would be hard work now that she understood how fundamentally broken the twins were but that only made her want to help them more. They had obviously been hiding what they’re really like for a reason and those reasons ran deep, far deeper than she could have imagined.

“You mean it! Really?” Troy let himself slip from his reserved manner before catching himself and going right back into it “I-I mean of course, I’m glad to hear that. Tyreen and I were hoping that you would agree.”

“Yes of course I mean it Troy, why would I lie to you? You and Tyreen haven’t given me a reason to feel like I should be, and this is a big deal for all of us really.” Sloane made sure to keep her time even and calm, it meant a lot to her that Troy was willing to show the vulnerable side of himself even if only for a moment.

“Right yeah, anyway I’m glad to hear that. I’m sure Ty is too. Especially since we’ve been prepping for you formal induction to the CoV. Of course we wanted to wait until things were smoothed over so it’s good to know that we can move ahead with our plans.” Troy went to talking business as it was a deflection from the feelings that were welling up inside him, feelings he still didn’t quite know how to process. Business though, that was easy, clinical almost. It was safe.  

“Oh really? What does that entail?” Sloane’s interest has been caught, when she had seen the twins videos in the past she’d never really focused on their ritual based stuff but it seemed more interesting now that she was in the thick of it.

“It’s a big party.” Tyreen chimed in stepping out of her room. “We all get dressed real nice and present you to the whole of our followers, you pledge your loyalty to us as your twin gods, get a little tattoo, then we have a good time for the rest of the night. Or head back early if partying isn’t your thing but I think you’ll have a good time.”

“Yeah it’s a good time and we don’t get to do it very often so we try to enjoy it when we get the chance. Just think about it, every eye in the children of the vault, seven billion people all tuning in to see you.” Troy purred, gesturing as if the wall were full of screens.

“I’d rather not think of that bit too much all things considered.” Sloane said blushing a bit when she realized just how many people that was.

“Awww are you camera shy? Don’t worry I’ll make sure we get only the best angles. You’ve got nothing to worry about. This is gonna be great, cinematic even.” Troy smirked and seemed to relax now that he was back in his element and Sloane couldn’t deny that it was nice to see him nerd out about camera work.

“Well when you put it like that…”

“See! Nothing to worry about you’re in good hands chica. Plus Iris is working on the cutest outfit for you and I know you’re gonna rock it so you know, don’t worry about it.” Tyreen encouraged.

They both seemed so happy about the event and even if Sloane was feeling a little shy about it she had said she wanted to know what life outside her forest was like. It was only fair that she continued to leave that comfort zone and see what the universe had to offer.

“Alright I think I’m sold, sounds like a good time and I mean the CoV is my family now so I can’t imagine denying you a celebration like this.” She was thoroughly convinced that the event would only strengthen her ties to her new family.

The twins were both beaming their wolfish grins in perfect copies of each other and they high-fived as Tyreen walked past Troy’s spot on the couch.

“Let's get a start on these preparations then why don’t we?”

[a-winchester-fairytale]

All The Small Things

Sam x Reader, Dean

Word Count: 809

Warnings: None

A/N:  This was written for @idreamofhazel Throwback Challenge.  My prompt was the song "All The Small Things" by Blink182.  I wrote this from Sam's POV, I hope you like it.  Thank you for letting me join your challenge.

Listen to the Song

Please feel free to leave feedback.  It's a little different than what I normally write and I would love to know what you think.....

“Did you find out anything useful?”  Dean asked as we left the house and walked through the gardens to the back gate. 

“No, did you?” 

“I talked to the groundskeeper and he did give me some details that weren’t in the report.”  He had started telling me when a familiar smell hit me.  I stopped for a moment, looking around and finally saw the source of the smell, Lilacs.

Her room smelled of lilac.  That’s what I remember most when I think of that night.  It’s a funny thing to remember, I suppose.  I mean, of all the things that I saw, felt, tasted…and what comes to my mind first was the smell that just kind of hung in the room like a fog. 

You would think the rose petals on the ground would over power that smell, but they didn’t.  It’s possible that I had already gotten used to that smell.  I had followed them all the way up the stairs and down the hall before I reached her door.  But I’m getting ahead of myself, skipping to the end of my memories.  I always preferred to start at the beginning.

I met her a year before that night.  I can still feel a smile inching its way onto my face as I remember how she refused to take any crap from my brother, always making him so frustrated he would throw up his hands and storm off.  Every single time, she would look right at me and wink.  She knew exactly what she was doing, and she loved it.  I doubt he ever realized it, although they did find a way to get along.  He didn’t really have much choice though.  Ever since the first day we met, I was hypnotized by her. 

I was pretty sure she had some secret ability to read my mind.  That was the only thing that made sense to me at first.  It took a while to realize she just noticed things, every facial expression, every look, every movement.  They all meant something to her and those little things told her everything she needed to read me like a book.  It was strangely comfortable to be with someone that I never had to explain myself to.    

She was full of surprises though.  She just showed up one day, car packed, after I talked to her over the phone.  We had been on a particularly strange hunt that week, and I guess she could hear it in my voice that I was struggling.  Before I even got out of the impala, she was there, telling me to climb into her car.  I was too tired to argue and did as she asked.  She drove, far away, to a place next to a lake.  We never talked about any of it.  She just made dinner, and then she made me forget.

I never wanted to leave her.  It just made me feel more human when she was there.  She was always telling me that I could do anything until, one day I started to believe her.  When I came back from hunts, beaten and broken, her soft touch healed my wounds.  It didn’t matter if they were on my body or my soul; they were always hers to mend. 

That night was no different.  I never even told her, not about how we had lost the fight, about how some of us would never make it back, about how it all seemed hopeless.

She had left the door open.  I was afraid for her at first, until I saw the dozen roses at the foot of the stairs.  The note simply said “I Love You” and petals covered the steps.  It made me smile.  I remember that because it surprised me.  I hadn’t realized how she could make everything okay with just the thought of her until that moment. 

I climbed the stairs, all the way to her bedroom door.  My eyes followed the trail of petals along the floor from the doorway until I saw her on the bed.  I threw my jacket over the chair and flipped off the lights before moving to her.  She sat up to greet me, her kisses tasted like cinnamon and honey, her skin so soft beneath my calloused hands.  I can still hear my name on her lips as she welcomed me back. 

A lot of things have faded over the years, but not that night.  The wheels keep turning, the years flying by, one day runs into another.  That’s the way life is, but all it takes is the smell of lilac and I’m back in her arms.

“What are you doing over there?”  Dean asked, and I realized I hadn’t heard a word he had been saying.

“Just thinking about the small things.”  I replied, turning away to hide the blush on my cheeks.

Tags (adding some from the pond): @just-another-busy-fangirl @supernatural-jackles @imagining-supernatural @aubreyreadsstuff @jensen-jarpad @your-modern-shakespeare @wildfirewinchester  @wonderfulworldofwinchester @impala-dreamer@notnaturalanahi @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @spn-fan-girl-173@deansleatherj-acket @curliesallovertheplace@@@@@@ @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @captain-princess-rose @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @wevegotworktodo @babypieandwhiskey@wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda@@@@@@ @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester@fandommaniacx @revwinchester @ageekchiclife @drarina1737@@@@@@ @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel@winchester-writes @evilskank-inthemegacoven @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @clueless-gold @winchester-family-business @4401lnc @teamfreewill92 @just-another-winchester @canadianjelly

[saintheartwing]

May The Force Be With You, Part Five

“IIIIII love you mooooore! Than I did the week beeeeefore! Since I discovered alcohol!”

Tom’s bar was positively filled to the brim with chattering and drinking and partying people, from left to right, top to bottom, the whole place was jumping as people sang loudly and proudly by the nearby karaoke machine. It displayed the lyrics to the songs in a holographic display as people clinked their glasses and their mugs, and smiled happily, but all the same, for many of them there was a…

Fakeness to it. A desperation. A NEED to be happy, to just drown out their current life in drink if only for a few hours so they’d feel somewhat better. You could see it in their eyes, you could see it in their smiles, and even the music they sang, in a way, contributed to this. After all, the overwhelming majority of the songs came in from the Dyad, who’d released them as singles for the people to consume. Even what they used to forget their crappy life...made them think about their crappy bosses. 

Kendall couldn’t help but notice that one guy was looking pretty cheery though. Genuinely cheery. It was a Trandoshan, a reptilian monster with clawed hands, scaly skin, horned head, reddish eyes and thick-armored frame. His name was Grohtk, and Kendall had treated him for two years. 

As Han and Leia, disguised under their holograms, intermingled with the people, Kendall sat next to Grohtk. The music had now played to a metal song, “The Memory Remains”, as Kendall ordered a drink for the Trandoshan. “I’ve not seen you in a while. I take it you’re not getting shot at as much?” He wanted to know.

Indeed, Grohtk was a very, very good security officer. But he had taken many a laser bolt blast for his clients, and sometimes his whole arms and legs had been blasted off, and Kendall had helped the good doctor put the limbs back on. Once, Kendall had even healed Grohtk’s eye when the doctor had been out. It had been an INCREDIBLY delicate procedure, Kendall had had to be super careful he pulled the chunk of knife out just right or the eye would have been damaged permanently, but Kendall had hands that were steady and swift. 

“I’ve gotten a job at the “penthouse” suites up at the Dyad’s tower.” He admitted in his growly voice to the Logosian. “I enjoy it...for the most part. They scare me, a TON, but...it pays well. Real well. Especially for me and my dad. I’m even going back on the dating scene.” 

Kendall smiled, patting Grohtk’s shoulder as the Trandoshan grinned. “Heck, if you’ve got nothing you’re doing tonight, maybe…?” He asked.

“Sure, I’ll give you a call later. I’m game if you are.” Kendall told him. 

He and Grohtk shared something in common. Both of them were from races who did NOT treat gay people well. Or bisexual people well. Really, anyone who wasn’t straight was looked up with scowls. For both, it was a matter of faith. For the Trandoshan, the goal was to adhere to the teachings of the Scorekeeper, who asked for them to track down and hunt particularly worthy prey. The current interpretation of the teachings was very conservative, stating that focus on such things took away from the hunt. Really, sex itself was almost demonized, and was barely tolerated in the name of propagating the race and, thus, the hunt…

Though plenty of the Trandoshan felt this was a stupid way to look at the teachings. Perhaps, soon enough, things would change. The grumblings on the home planet were getting louder.

For the Logosian people, it was their tight adherence to their holy book and to the teachings of the exceptionally beautiful prophet known as Ethos. Ethos had had long flowing hair like the river running down his back, and his heart had glowed like the sun, especially when he was laying hands on the sick and the dying to heal them. The teachings had told the Logosian people to love the family above all else. Well, since “family” had meant a mother, father and child, it hadn’t been hard for anti-straight relationships to be demonized by them. 

It wasn’t perhaps FAIR to blame people like the Scorekeeper or God or Ethos. After all, people interpreted even basic things stupidly every day. But Kendall could no longer look at Ethos with his leafy Crown of Morality, and the soft white robes he’d worn, and that smile and...and, well, not see a representative of everything he despised. The same way Grohtk could no longer really look at his own kind and not see everything HE hated. He’d been relentlessly hounded and teased and mistreated by his species for years. Only amongst the aliens, the “other”, did he feel happy. Well...there was also his Dad.

Sometimes Kendall wished he’d had Grohtk and Thwurl’s relationship, the two really clearly loved each other. His own father…

No matter how kindly he’d been, and how much he’d tried, he couldn’t truly remember his Dad genuinely smiling. Truly, utterly happy. Grohtk and his father, they always seemed to be.

“How come the Dyad scare you?” “Well...okay, look…” Grohtk hesitated. “Promise you’ll keep this quiet. But when one of the guards brought up the incident that got Darth Furiosa’s grandmother killed, she shocked him so hard he was almost electrocuted to death.” “What did he say?” 

“Well, she was talking about how it was the anniversary of her mother and grandmother’s death. Darth Furiosa was thinking out loud, she brought up how her mother had died, fallen to her death during the fight, and she talked about how Han Solo had shot her mother and everyone in the room was all quiet and nervous and unsure what to say, well...one of the guards said “I guess Mr. Solo should have given your grandma a “head’s up”. The guy always was making bad jokes and the Dyad never minded it before, but when he told THIS one, she immediately electrocuted him. He almost died.”

“Damn…” Kendall cringed. “I get it was insensitive to say that thing about your dad but...but you don’t almost kill someone over that.” He mumbled. “They should be able to control their temper! That’s disgusting. You FIRE someone for stuff like that, or dock their pay or something, you don’t FRY THEM WITH A LIGHTNING BOLT!” “And yet they get away with it because of who they are.” Grohtk muttered. 

“Ah, to be rich and powerful.” Kendall sighed as Han and Leia walked over.

“We actually got them to talk a bit. They want to come over for drinks.” Leia admitted as she looked at Kendall. “They also seem to like you a lot. You’ve treated so many of them for wounds. I’m surprised.” “Our clinic was really close to where they worked, and we’re free. So...we got a lot of business.” Kendall confessed with a grin. 

“How come you never became a doctor?” Han wanted to know, looking interested. “You seem smart enough.” Kendall hesitated. “I...I choke up all the time when it comes to actually remembering the terminology you need to pass the license to become a doctor.” He muttered as the other workers walked over to sit down by him. “Thing is, I’m good at recognizing obvious wounds and treating them. I know all the basics easily. I can fix them super quick and do it really well, but anything more complex is...a crapshoot for me. Sometimes I’ll remember, most of the time, I don’t. I mean...I mixed up a trytophatic nerve with a angliatic point.” He groaned as he hung his head. “Three times. And it’d be like mixing up your arm with your leg. I mean...yeah! They’re both limbs, but that’s about it! No real doctor should make mix-ups like that, you did that, you’d kill your patient.” 

“Hey, you’re the best nurse WE had.” One of the workers said. “And you didn’t treat us differently because we were soldiers for the Dyad.” He added as the others nodded. “We get a lot of side eye and worse because we work for them, it was nice to just go somewhere where there was no judgment.” 

Kendall looked up at them and smiled a bit. “Well...I’m a nurse. If someone’s hurt, I try to help them. I always thought it was that simple.” He admitted. 

“They actually agreed to do us a favor if we’d do THEM a favor.” Leia admitted. “They’re going to give us access to the camera system in the building that analyzes and records everything inside. We’ll be able to spy on the Dyad whenever we want. But they DO want us to break up a protest going on at the docks.” “We’d go but...well…” The guards standing by their fellow Dyad workers gulped a bit nervously. “They uh...the protestors kinda...outnumber us this time.” He muttered. “And we just had to shoo protestors away from the docks yesterday and they threw bricks and stuff at us.” “We’re really, really getting sick of them always screaming at us and tossing things at us.” Another guard admitted. “It isn’t like we can just take another job. Nobody else would hire us. The Dyad paid us really good wages for people like us, we barely completed our college education and nobody wanted to hire us because our degrees don’t mean squat on Nar Shadaa. It was either work for them or be janitors somewhere or be on the streets.” 

“It couldn’t have been THAT bad, what were your degrees?” Han asked. “Art?” “Yeah, man. ART.” Said the guard from before as Han looked stunned. “You think Nar Shadaa gives a s--t about analyzing interior design and comparing the different pillar structure types of the ancient sith? Only the rich assholes care about that stuff because they BUY the art. But they weren’t going to have some kids out of college working for them, they’d fly in professional art critics with snooty monocles and stuff who did their stints on Coruscant. And we didn’t wanna work for the Hutts anyway, we heard they occasionally ATE people who pissed them off! Gross, man!” All of them nodded, several workers nearby enthusiastically saw. “Yeah, I SAW them do it. Twice.” One of them confessed. “I used to do electrician work for them before I switched to the Dyad, I thought a couple of lesbian Sith would be WAY less scary to work for. I was barely right.” 

“SHHHH.” One of his friends shoved a hand over his mouth. “Be careful about what you say. Even mentioning that they scare you can get you in trouble.” He whispered. “We’ve ALL got to be more cautious, we dunno who’d be listening.” “I wish I could say far worse about them.” The guard who’d spoken before muttered. “But they’ve done some sick things to people who insult them to their faces.” 

“Like what?”

The guard hesitated. He seemed to be chewing on the words, but then he explained. It had been the day of new hires. The Dyad had been speaking to all of the new guards they’d brought in and were doing some additional background checks by asking some personal questions. Like, for example, would they be comfortable working for two Lesbians. Luckily, all of the guards didn’t seem to mind. But unfortunately, the man who’d brought in the new hires on his ship was getting impatient.

“Can we hurry this up? I got other places to visit. The Hutts want me to bring in some off-worlders for security. And hopefully they won’t smell as bad as this batch.” The Rodian remarked as Darth Furiosa looked at him, Darth Raize raising an eyebrow. She was sensing something from him, and her eyes narrowed slightly before she spoke in a calm, cool voice.

“Are you not comfortable with lesbians yourself, sir?” “...I don’t really see how that’s relevant.” He remarked stonily as Raize nonchalantly walked over to Furiosa, and sloooooowly put her arm around her beloved.

“Oh, well that’s good. You know, my wife and I were just discussing our planned vacation to this charming island planet. Long, lush beaches, soft wind, the rolling waves. We’ll just eat barbeque on the beach...play some volleyball, and ah...well...take nice, long swims.” She intoned in a husky tone as the Rodian visibly flinched.

“...can you please keep the...sex stuff to yourselves?”  He asked. “It’s creepy hearing you humans talk about it openly. YECCH.” 

“Ohhh, so it’s not us being LESBIANS that’s really what turns you off, it’s us being humans, is that it?” Raize asked as the Rodian frowned. 

“You humans act like you’re so much better than 90 percent of the species here on Nar Shadaa, so forgive me if I think that, though well behaved, you’re at best all monkeys shaved.” The Rodian captain of the taxi ship the new hires had arrived in intoned. 

SCHWISH! 

Something red flashed through the air and the man’s head plopped down. Several of the guards screamed in horror as Furiosa lowered her lightsaber, and Raize turned to the other guards. “Just so there’s absolutely no mistaking this, let us make something very clear. If you’re really concerned that we may, perhaps, be making a mistake in how we handle our security, by all means, you’re welcome to let us know. We’re not going to punish you for little mistakes. Nothing will be off limits. Except the kind of bigotry on display moments ago, either towards ANY species, or ANY sexuality. Because the price of doing that…”

She lifted up the Rodian’s severed head, and shook it in front of them all. “Is that we will use your skull for a DECORATIVE BIRDHOUSE. So if any of you have any niggling little biases you’ve been keeping from us that you want to get out of your system, either do it now and then leave, or we collect. your. fucking. head. WELL?!” She roared out, her eyes flashing like lightning as the new hires all gulped. 

Then somebody spoke up.

“Uh...is...being afraid of Hutts...does that count? I’ve never liked them because my dad owed a bunch of money to them and they decided they’d make him pay it off by eating him and my mom in front of me, then saddling ME with the remaining debt.” “...you know what, that one’s fair.” Furiosa confessed. “You can stay.” 

Han and Leia’s mouth hung open. Kendall flinched. “I can actually testify to the...behavior...of some of the Hutts. We once had a Hutt come in. An off-worlder who thought he could get in on the action. He failed miserably, got beaten very badly in a fight, and he oozed his way to our free clinic. We did our best, but...well, we couldn’t save him. When we did the autopsy, we opened his stomach and...well, we...we found half-digested guards inside. So evidently they really AREN’T above eating people in a pinch if they’re super mad or desperate.”

Leia shuddered and shook, shaking her head back and forth. She looked positively horrified, and Han had to give her a deep, passionate hug. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.” He spoke lovingly as Kendall looked at the two. He had a feeling that Leia was suffering from some sort of PTSD herself that pertained to Hutts, but he thought it best not to ask. She didn’t look well at all. 

“Let’s just get the business at the dock over with.” Kendall sighed as he put his hands in his pockets after lifting the hood to his blue, slightly puffy jacket up over his head. He and Han and Leia shook hands with the patrons they’d been speaking to, and then made their way back out, heading for the docks.

Sure enough, it was a most unpleasant scene. A VERY clearly outnumbered small security force was trying to guard several of the Dyad’s ships, but a large crowd of angry, righteously furious protestors were  holding signs up. Some of them were normal, written down on big thick white paper in large letters. Others were holo-signs, held up on pen-like emitters. A few were tossing tomatoes and other types of fruit at the security force, and many were chanting.

“Hey Ho! Dyad’s Got to Go! Hey Ho! Dyad’s Got to Go!” 

“The Dyad are Shit! Trash their ship! The Dyad are shit! Trash their ship!” 

“Our taxes pay your salary! Our taxes pay your salary!” 

And a few others were singing, pushing up against the security officers. Loud cries of “Move, bitch, get out the way, get out the way, bitch, get out the way” echoed through the air as Kendall dryly chuckled at how the security force was trying...and failing...to look stoic. They were getting more and more antsy, a few of their legs were jiggling, some of them were casting furtive, slightly worried glances at one another.

“I’m surprised the Dyad didn’t just get a bunch or robots to do this for them.” Han admitted as they approached the crowd of protesters.

“That’s one of the ONLY things we’re really glad they didn’t do.” One of the protesters said, the twi’lek shaking her head. “They try to hire local all the time to boost the economy and give the average person a job, and they didn’t replace people with machines either. We used to appreciate that, sure. But now we see it as a double-edged sword. If it’s our friends and neighbors hired as their goons, WE’RE less likely to get really wild with them the way we would with a robot.” 

“Let us by! The Dyad havve been bossing us around long enough! Its time we sent a message!” Said one protestor, who finally decided that tossing crumpled up paper, or fruit, or vegetables wasn’t enough. He shoved one of the security guards. The guard decided this was enough. She slammed her baton into the guy’s stomach, knocking him back. 

“That’s it, get them!” She yelled out as the security force raced forward. The protesters were caught off guard, it was turning into a madhouse. Leia and Han and Kendall tried to help the protesters, to tug them away from sweeping batons and electro-stun staffs, Kendall yelling for everyone to please, try to calm down! 

It wasn’t working. It was turning into chaos. People were yelling angrily, attacking the guards, who were beginning to get overwhelmed. They punched, they kicked, they even tried biting a few times. Loud THWAK-THWAK and crunches and cries of pain were echoing through the air, but then there came a very loud, horrible, wet noise. 

That horrifying wet noise stopped everyone else in their tracks. They all turned to see what had happened and they saw that one of the security guards had gotten their electro staff stripped from them, and one of the protesters had struck them so hard...they’d cracked their helmet...and their skull open. 

People reeled back as Kendall raced over, carefully removing the the helmet as he looked down at the guard. He’d been hurt badly, the unfortunate human guard had cracked his head badly. Kendall could see the BONE. “Oh no, no, no, no.” Kendall’s eyes went wide. “I need a towel or...or something soft! Somebody?!” He cried out. 

Everyone looked around. But nobody moved forward, out of a mixture of shock, of fear...and in some cases, a sense of “let the pig die”. Kendall frowned furiously at the faces who looked down at the security guard with disdain, spitting on the ground as he ripped his jacket off, and got his undershirt off. “You’re PATHETIC!” He snapped as he wrapped it around the man’s head “Get the FUCK out of here if you’re not going to help!” He roared. “I’m a registered nurse, so get out of the way, and let me do my job!”  

People stepped back as Kendall looked at the man’s eyes. “His pupils are dilating. He’s sweating heavily, his breathing is getting more difficult. I need to get him to a proper place to treat him. Does anyone have any Bacta or Kolto or any medical packs?” 

Leia, luckily, stepped forward. She pulled out a small medical kit, kneeling down as she administered the liquid within the pack to the man’s lips. He was barely breathing, he struggled to gulp it down as Kendall examined the wound. The med-kit liquid was working, the man was stabilizing, but barely. “I need to stitch his head up.” He murmured as he tried to lift the security guard up into his arms and then turned to the other security guards. “I can’t carry him alone!” He insisted. “Help me get the armor off at least!”

The guards glanced at each other, then began to help get the armor off. Soon, at last, the poor man was almost utterly naked, but easier to carry as Kendall helped carry him off to Leia and Han’s vehicle. The guards glanced at the protesters, then quietly, somberly, stepped away from the Dyad’s ships. The protesters looked at each other, and then moved quietly to the ship, and began to push it over silently, saying nothing as they did so. It finally flopped over, onto its side, with a loud THRAKKA-THA-SCHOOOOM. Now the ship finally laid on its side, some windows blown out as the protestors stared at the thing. It laid on the floor of the docking bay like a dead beast, and they began to quietly head out, each returning to their homes. 

“Okay, keep the vehicle steady.” Kendall said as Han and Leia drove back to their hotel. “We need to get him more proper medicine. I’ll have to check the wound to see if any parts of the weapon got stuck inside him like shrapnel.” He told the two. “...I don’t suppose...Leia, could you, like...force heal him?” “Unfortunately, I don’t know that skill.” She confessed. “Jedi do heal naturally faster than most, and we can heal ourselves fairly easily but when it comes to other people, that’s a bit harder. I don’t know that technique yet.” 

“Damn.” Kendall hesitated. “Well, then I’ll just have to examine the wound and hope basic bacta will be enough. I’ve never treated a head wound as badly as this. In THEORY the bacta should do it. But...well, what works in theory and abstract isn’t the same as what actually works in real life.” He muttered. 

“Hey. It’ll happen, kid.” Han said gently, looking up in the mirror. “...you’re gonna do fine.” He told Kendall, who tried to smile back, though he could barely return the smile. 

[thetreeoflife1-blog1]

Anne Lamott: Traveling Mercies

I got pregnant in April, right around my thirtieth birthday, but was so loaded every night that the next morning’s first urine was too diluted for a pregnancy test to prove positive. I was often sick in the morning. On weekdays, I put coffee on, went for a run, took a shower, had coffee, maybe some speed, a thousand cigarettes, and then tried to write. On weekends, I went to the flea market.If I happened to be there between eleven and one on Sundays, I could hear gospel music coming from a church right across the street. The church looked homely and impoverished, a ramshackle building with a cross on top, sitting on a small parcel of land with a few skinny pine trees. But the music wafting out was so pretty that I would stop and listen. I knew a lot of the hymns from the times I’d gone to church with my grandparents and from the albums we’d had of spirituals. Finally, I began stopping in at the church from time to time, standing in the doorway to listen to the songs. I couldn’t believe how run down it was, with terrible linoleum that was brown and overshined, and plastic stained-glass windows. But it had a choir of five black women and one rather Amish looking white man making all that glorious noise, and a congregation of thirty people or so, radiating kindness and warmth. During the time when people hugged and greeted each other, various people would come back to where I stood to shake my hand or try to hug me. I was as frozen and stiff as Richard Nixon. After this, Scripture was read, and then the minister would preach about social injustice and Jesus, which would be enough to send me running back to the sanctuary of the flea market.I went back to the church about once a month. No one tried to con me into sitting down or staying. I always left before the sermon. I loved singing, even about Jesus, but I didn’t want to be preached at about him. To me, Jesus made about as much sense as Scientology or dowsing. But the church smelled wonderful, like the air had nourishment in it, or like it was composed of these people’s exhalations, of warmth and faith and peace. There were always children running around or being embraced, and a gorgeous stick-thin deaf black girl signing to her mother’s flashing fingers.I could sing better here than I ever had before. As part of these people, even though I stayed in the doorway, I did not recognize my voice or know where it was coming from, but sometimes I felt I could sing forever.A few months after I started coming, I took a seat in one of the folding chairs, off by myself. Then the singing enveloped me. It was furry and resonant, coming from everyone’s very heart. There was no sense of performance or judgment, only that the music was breath and food.Something inside me that was stiff and rotting would feel soft and tender. Somehow the singing wore down all the boundaries and distinctions that kept me so isolated. Sitting there, standing with them to sing, sometimes so shaky and sick that I felt like I might tip over, I felt bigger than myself, like I was being taken care of, tricked into coming back to life. But I had to leave before the sermon.Meanwhile, my life was continuing. I had published three books by then, but none of them had sold particularly well, and I did not have the money or wherewithal to have a baby. The father was someone I had just met, who was married, and no one I wanted a real life or baby with. So one morning my friend took me in for the abortion, and I was sadder than I’d been since my father died, and when she brought me home that night, I went upstairs to my loft with a pint of Bushmills and some of the codeine a nurse had given me for pain. I drank until nearly dawn. Then the next night I did it again, and the next night, although by then the pills were gone.I didn’t go to the flea market the week of my abortion. I stayed home, and smoked dope, and got drunk, and tried to write a little. On the seventh night, though, very drunk and just about to take a sleeping pill, I discovered that I was bleeding heavily. It did not stop over the next hour. I thought I should call a doctor, but I was so disgusted that I had gotten so drunk one week after an abortion that I just couldn’t wake someone up and ask for help. Several hours later, the blood stopped flowing, and I got in bed, shaky and sad. After awhile, as I lay there, I became aware of someone with me, hunkered down in the corner, and I just assumed it was my father, whose presence I had felt over the years when I was frightened and alone. The feeling was so strong that I actually turned on the light for a moment to make sure no one was there – of course, there wasn’t. But after awhile, in the dark again, I knew beyond any doubt that it was Jesus. I felt him as surely as I feel my dog lying nearby as I write this.And I was appalled. I thought about my life and my brilliant hilarious progressive friends. I thought about what everyone would think of me if I became a Christian, and it seemed an utterly impossible thing that simply could not be allowed to happen. I turned to the wall and said out loud, “I would rather die.”I felt him just sitting there on his haunches in the corner of my sleeping loft, watching me with patience and love, and I squinched my eyes shut, but that didn’t help because that’s not what I was seeing him with. Finally, I fell asleep and in the morning, he was gone.The experience spooked me badly, but I thought it was just an apparition, born of fear and self-loathing and loss of blood. But then everywhere I went, I had the feeling that a little cat was following me, wanting me to reach down and pick it up, wanting me to open the door and let it in. But I knew what would happen: you let a cat in one time, give it a little milk, and then it stays forever. So I tried to keep one step ahead of it, slamming my house door whenever I entered or left.And one week later, when I went back to church, I was so hungover that I couldn’t stand up for the songs, and this time I stayed for the sermon, which I thought was so ridiculous, like someone trying to convince me of the existence of extraterrestrials, but the last song was so deep and raw and pure that I could not escape. It was as if the people were singing in between the notes, weeping and joyful at the same time, and I felt like their voices or something was rocking me in its bosom, holding me like a scared kid, and I opened up to that feeling – and it washed over me.I began to cry and left before the benediction, and I raced home and felt the little cat running along me heels, and I walked down the dock past dozens of potted flowers, under a sky as blue as one of God’s own dreams, and I opened the door to my house, and I stood there a minute, and then I hung my head and said, “[Okay,]. I quit.” I took a long deep breath and said out loud, “All right. You can come in.” So this is my beautiful moment of conversion.  From her historical non-fiction, Traveling Mercies.