#i just hope my colleague is ok tbh

[jockbots]

thinking abt the uk getting gold in mens climbing, and the british finalists in the olympics and what thats going to do for climbing in the uk and how inspiring they are: 🤩🥰🥹💛🧡💜❤️🫶🧗‍♀️

thinking abt the racist white supremacists rioting in england and politics endorsing it leading to ppl fearing for their lives and the media downplaying that shit like its not domestic terrorism:

[always-just-red]

hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.

but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.

maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)

feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.

Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰

Technical Difficulties

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.

Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!

Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?

Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?

You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.

Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:

Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx

Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, ok? You have time.

Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:

Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!

Ok, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.

Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?

“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”

Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”

“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”

The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.

“Mmhmm.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Sylus.”

You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.  

“I need to go, ok?” Your eyes are shining.

“Ok,” he says softly.

There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??

You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.

…

You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.

You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.

Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.

Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.

Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.

At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.

You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”

“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.

“How did you even get in here?”

He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.

Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”

“Magicking, yeah.”

You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.

“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”  

“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”

Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.

“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”

“Snob.”

“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”

You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.

Nero’s yelling at me

Wants to talk to U

Can U pick up? Pls?

It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”

He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.

Nothing happens.

Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.

With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.

“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.

“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”

“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”

“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”

“No, ok?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”

“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”

“Are you ok?” he asks after a second.

Ok? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”

Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.

You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.

Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.

The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.

“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.

“That’s Skye!” Tara.

Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.

You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.

With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.

Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.

He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.

Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”

“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”

His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”

“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.  

Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”

It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.

Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.

It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right.”

“…Good.”

Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.

“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”

There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”

Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.

You chuckle to yourself.

And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.

[goosewriting]

Warmth

summary: now that reader got to look underneath the surface, they discover the not so pretty parts about being an inquisitor

relationship: inq!Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: 18+, semi-graphic violence, mentions of blood, trauma, it gets pretty steamy, but still fade to black, implied sexual encounters, cal being emotionally constipated because what else is new, dom cal, soft cal, dirty talk? sorta?, talking about killing people, reader being a nerd, having a bath together, non-sexual nudity, reader gets choked, a lot is happening ok

word count: 12k … this one got away form me, i–

A/N: tbh when i started this i had no idea where i was going with it; this just took on a life of its own. i guess this one’s a little more grounded than the previous one, as reader and cal explore what it means to be an inquisitor. it’s a bit different to my usual stuff but i hope you like it nonetheless :’D

this can be read on its own, but it's technically a sequel to underneath!

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

It’s rather calm today, uneventful, as you sit at your office desk doing your work absent-mindedly.

You think back to your first night together with inquisitor Cal Kestis. It’s been some time since then, and you’re glad that there were more nights after that one.

Whatever is going on between you two, you try to be discreet about it. But it didn’t go unnoticed by others how Cal would approach you in the hallways to say hi or have a quick chat to check in on you. At first, you were nervous that it would affect your job in some way, negatively change your relationship with your boss and colleagues (not that you’re too close with them, but you still want to keep it professional and respectful with them). To your surprise though, the others seem to respect you more because of it. Apparently being able to hold your ground against an inquisitor isn't a small feat. ‘Hold your ground’... More like being wrapped around his finger. 

You smile to yourself as you think back to a couple of nights back. Your heart quickens and the tip of your ears burn as you remember the trails of kisses Cal left on your skin, setting your whole body on fire, accompanied by words of praise and adoration, words only for you to hear. 

Shaking your head to rid yourself of the slippery slope that is your current train of thought, you refocus on the screen in front of you and continue clacking away on the keyboard. You haven’t really defined or put a label on what you two have, but you know it’s special, and it is real. And you’re content with that for now. You like the current dynamic, where you have dinner together as often as your jobs will allow it, and you sleep over at his quarters every other day. 

However, lately there’s been a habit of Cal’s that worries you a bit. There’s been several instances now when you wake up in the middle of the night and your hand reaches out to find him, but his side of the bed is empty. Sometimes he’s not in the room at all. Other times you can see him standing at the window with his back towards you; his red hair seems to glow above his dark silhouette contrasting with the dim fiery glow coming from Mustafar, appearing from behind a veil of clouds. You know he knows you’re awake, but you stay still, pretending to be asleep. Whatever is weighing on his mind, whenever he feels ready, he’ll come to you. And you’d wait for as long as he needs.

Still, getting up so often at night starts to take a toll. You notice he’s more irritable, you see the dark bags under his eyes. But when you try to confront him about it, he dismisses it as unimportant, saying he’ll get better sleep that night. But it’s just the same thing over and over again.

One night after dinner, you’re both sitting on his couch, and you finally manage to pry out what has got him unable to sleep: nightmares. You don’t really understand what the problem is; everyone gets nightmares every once in a while. Even if he were to move around a lot, you’d try to calm him down and get him back to sleep.

“Do you know how inquisitors are made?” he asks seemingly out of nowhere while on the nightmare topic.

You take a moment to think about it, and realise that you do, in fact, not. So you shake your head.

“The Empire captures Jedis, to torture and remake them however they see fit”, he explains and stops from a moment to let it sink in.

“Part of them is lost forever,” he continues, his gaze moving to the side, looking at nothing in particular. “The other seems to be trapped, unable to move or escape. Jedis are trained to not give in to hate or anger. For inquisitors, those are the only things keeping them going. Ironically, feeling an enemy’s life force fade away… It makes you feel alive again.” He looks down at his hands. “It lets you feel something again at all: the rage, towards oneself and towards everyone who’s ever wronged you. It’s an addicting feeling, all-consuming. But much too short. So you seek it out again. And the Empire has plenty of enemies they need gone, so you comply.”

He pauses, allowing you to interject if it’s too much, but you remain silent, listening attentively. You’ve never heard this side of him, of how it felt being an inquisitor. 

“In those moments–” he goes on, clenching his hands into fists. “–feeding off of someone's desperation and pain that you can feel through the Force, it also opens a minimal gap for you to feel other things too. Things you thought you had forgotten or want to forget, like regret, fear and doubt. Or things you think you don’t deserve to feel anymore, like warmth. Happiness.” He pauses for a moment. “Love.”

You remain silent for a moment longer in case he wants to add anything else, but it doesn’t look like it. So you ask something instead. 

“And what do you remember in those moments?”

Cal closes his eyes and throws his head back slightly, taking a deep breath.

“The smell of the temple library on Coruscant,” he replies. “The rare sound of the clones laughing in the mess hall. How safe I felt with my master.”

You tilt your head with a slight grimace; it breaks your heart to hear he thinks he can’t have those things anymore because of what he is now. Or rather, what he was made.

“You still deserve all of that, the warmth and feelings of safety,” you say, and reach out to run your fingertips over his cheek, but he turns away.

“You don’t think I’m a monster? Like everyone else does?” he asks with a wry chuckle. “You know what I do. I don’t deserve any of it.”

Or you.

He doesn’t say the words aloud, but they hang heavy in the air between you two. 

“Okay, Kestis,” you say as you stand up, one hand stretched out towards him. “No moping, c’mon.”

He gives you a suspicious look, but accepts your hand nonetheless. You guide him to the washroom and run a bath for him, using one of your nicer bath bombs which you kept for special occasions. 

“Time for some pampering. You deserve it,” you enunciate that last part. “Clothes off.”

He narrows his eyes at you, unsure of what you’re scheming. You can’t help but laugh at the faint blush spreading on his freckled face as you start to strip yourself. 

“Now, don’t get any ideas. No funny business, I mean it. Just a bath,” you say, pointing a finger at him.

“Alright, alright,” he gives in with a low chuckle, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

Not long after, you’re both in the tub, with you sitting behind Cal, both enveloped by fragrant bubbles filling the warm water surface. You instruct him to lean back so you can wash his hair. Using your own shampoo instead of the boring, Empire-issue one, you lather up his hair, massaging his scalp, which earns you a grunt or two, and you can’t help a triumphant smile.

“Does it feel good?” you ask, and you get another grunt in response, so it must indeed feel good.

After you’re done with the hair, you tell him to turn around, and you squirt some soap onto a wash cloth. Starting at his neck, you scrub gently in circular motions, making your way down over his shoulder and his arms. Then you repeat the process on the other arm. As you lift it out from the thick layer of bubbles, you notice some reddening on his skin at his bicep. You take a closer look.

“Is that a new scar?” you ask.

“Yeah, don’t know where from though,” he says, and you get the impression that he does, but you don’t ask him about it. 

“Is that so,” you mumble, then lean in to place a soft kiss on it. “There, now it will heal faster.” 

Cal snorts and rolls his eyes, but his gaze remains soft.

“What, you don’t believe me?” you retort in mock offence. Then you start placing kisses on all his scars, the ones on his face, at his jaw and over his nose. The scars on his chest, his shoulders. You end by placing one last kiss on the tip of his nose, and grin up at him, but your face changes into worry when you see his expression. His brows are furrowed, as if in pain, his eyes shut tightly, his shoulders tense.

“Cal, are you okay?” you ask, and his hand comes out of the water to hold your face. You place your hand over his. He blinks a couple of times, and when he fully opens his eyes again, his features relax, and he smiles warmly. But what shocks you the most is that his eyes aren’t their usual yellow; they’re greenish blue. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His gaze is not only a different colour, but also as vulnerable and tender as you’ve never seen before in him. 

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, leaning in to place a single, lingering kiss on your cheek. 

Suddenly, his face contorts in pain again, this time more than before, and his hands shoot up to either side of his head, pressing onto his temples. When he opens his eyes again, they’re back to the yellow you know and love.

“My head is killing me suddenly,” he says through gritted teeth. “Can we wrap it up?” 

“Uh, of course, yeah,” you answer, making quick work of rinsing off both of you and getting some towels. 

Soon you’re both in bed, with your back against his chest, as he holds on to you like his life depends on it. Cal falls asleep first, but it’s rather restless. He keeps twitching and flinching, and with every sudden move, you’re dragged back out of your almost drifting to sleep. When he seems to finally have calmed down, you exhale deeply, eager to follow suit and drift into dreamland as well. Instead, Cal groans loudly, and you lean onto your side to look up over your shoulder. He looks distressed, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

“Cal, are you okay?” you ask, placing your hand on his shoulder to try and wake him, but you retrieve it quickly when his eyes shoot open, wild and angry and disoriented. 

“Prauf!” he screams, grabbing you harshly and rolling over so he’s straddling you, one of his hands fisting the sheets while the other goes to your throat, starting to choke you.

“C-Cal…!” you rasp out, holding onto his wrist to try and get him off of you. “You’re hurting me!”

He puts more weight into his hold, and you start seeing white dots sprinkled in your field of vision.

“It’s me, please,” you gasp, raising your hand to hold his cheek instead, and that seems to work. Slowly, his eyes seem to focus again, and his ragged breathing calms down slightly. When he finally sees you under him and understands what he is doing, he lets go and jumps off of you, off the bed, and slams his back against the opposite wall. You take a gulp of air, falling into a coughing fit. 

“Are you okay?” you croak when you can finally talk again, and you see him holding his head, trembling. 

“I- I’m sorry- This-” he starts, but can’t form a sentence. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he lets his hands fall back down to his sides. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” 

Cal leaves the room before you can protest, and the doors close behind him. Just like that you’re left alone, wondering what in the world just happened. Does it have something to do with his eyes earlier? And what, or who, is Prauf? 

— — —

The next morning, you’re awoken by the alarm clock on his night stand, and it takes you a couple of tries to turn it off. Sitting up on the bed with a yawn, you start remembering what happened the night before, and your hands comes up to your neck, where you can still feel some soreness from being choked like that.

You tiptoe out of the room, but just as you expected, Cal is gone. Taking a quick look at the clock, you yelp as you realise how late it is, and you hurry to the washroom to get ready. 

Once you’re ready to go, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror, and realise that your neck has visible marks, clearly in the shape of a hand. You grimace slightly, propping up the collar of your uniform as high up as it will go, and it covers up most of it. As long as you don’t look up or stretch your neck too much, you should be good. So you leave Cal’s quarters and head to your office. 

The whole day, you’re a bit distracted, hoping that Cal doesn’t feel too bad about what he did. You just want to help; sure, the nightmares are worse than you thought. But you’ll figure it out, together. 

You don’t get to see or hear from Cal the whole day though, or the next, or the one after that. For almost a week, he seems to be avoiding you completely. He doesn’t answer your holocalls or texts. You only catch the occasional glimpse of him leaving a room just when you’re entering. 

Tired of this game of cat and mouse, you decide to go find him. Instead, you end up cornered by the Ninth Sister. You’re slightly scared of her if you’re honest – no, scratch that. You are scared of her; she’s incredibly intimidating, not just by her sheer size and strength, but her presence in general. She always sounds mad, a deep frown etched into her face. So when she suddenly tells you to follow her, you don’t find it in you to refuse. To your surprise, she hunts down Cal as well, and brings you both to an empty hallway.

“Whatever is going on between you two: fix it!” she barks, then turns around with a scoff, muttering something about it being like scolding children. 

You look around, and there’s no one around, so you look up at Cal’s helmet visor, trying to find his eyes under it, but obviously only seeing your own reflection.

“Hey,” you greet him, giving him a smile to signal you’re not mad. “I missed you.”

His shoulders slump slightly, and he looks around as well. Instead of answering, he grabs you by your elbow and guides you some steps down the hallway to a maintenance shaft. He flicks his wrist, and the doors open, he shoves you both inside and closes the doors.

Only now does he take off his helmet, and you can’t suppress a gasp, horrified at the sight. His hair is sticking out everywhere, the bags under his eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen, and he not only has new scratches on his face, he also a black eye that seems to be a couple of days old. 

“What happened to you?” you ask, and you’re aware that it’s not a great opener, but you’re genuinely worried. Your hands gingerly run over his face as you inspect the damage. Cal shrugs nonchalantly.

“I’ve been distracted lately and it affected my performance,” he says with a wry smile. “So they had to correct my bad behaviour.”

You take a moment to make sure you’re properly understanding what he’s implying. By the look in his eyes, kinda sad and a bit ashamed, it seems you are.

“Do you get corrected often?” you ask carefully.

“Sometimes. When I get greedy,” he answers. You think back to your conversation about being an inquisitor, and remember how he said that he only got a glimpse back into his own heart when he was out there, doing horrible things. Does that mean he was defying orders just to be able ‘to feel something at all’? 

“Do you usually get corrected… after being with me?” you ask this time, almost scared of the answer. 

“It’s not your fault,” he indirectly answers your question, taking your hands in his. “Being with you is just as addicting as being out there. I’m just… weak like that, I guess.”

“Oh, Cal,” you whisper, giving his hands a squeeze. “The warmth you yearn for and that you seek, it may make you feel vulnerable, and you think that makes you weak, but all it does is make you real. You’re real, Cal, and so am I. And I don’t want you to get hurt. You don’t need to be greedy; I’m here, I always will be. You deserve that warmth, and if you’ll have me, I’ll give you all of it.”

His brows rise slightly in surprise, and you realise you basically just professed your love for him. Heat erupts on your face and in your panic, you grab onto his collar and kiss him, hard at first, but then you’re both moving in unison with a rare softness you don’t always get to experience from him. 

Suddenly he pulls back with a pained grunt, and he slides down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor. 

“Cal, are you okay? What’s wrong?” You kneel down beside him, and you lift his face to look at him. Once again, you’re met with blue eyes, this time like an ocean about to erupt into stormy waves. He’s close to tears, and he looks so scared, so small, it breaks your heart. If only you knew how to mend the broken pieces of his soul, you’d kiss them all better if you could. 

“I’m sorry I stayed away so long,” he suddenly says, hugging you into his chest. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you again. What if I don’t snap back in time? What if I do something worse?”

You rack your brains for something reassuring to say, and finally land on something.

“You know, as a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare,” you start, hoping to not only get your point across better with your story, but also getting him out of the rabbit hole he was about to go down. “I kept dreaming that my parents abandoned me. We would all be together somewhere, and I looked away for a moment, but by the time I turned back around, they were gone. And I would feel so alone, and full of dread, I felt like I was going crazy. I’d often wake up screaming and crying.”

You take a moment to gauge his reaction; talking about your pasts has been kind of a taboo topic between you two. He openly said once that he doesn’t want to talk about his past, which you respect, but it also meant he never asked questions about yours. Maybe he’s scared to know more because it would reawaken memories of his own. Maybe he just doesn’t want to pry. Maybe he doesn’t care. Either way, you’re now crossing that invisible line and hope it won’t scare him away completely.

“No matter how much my parents reassured me that they wouldn’t abandon me, it always played out the same,” you continue your story. “One night, I was so scared of having the nightmare again, that I straight up refused to go to sleep. That’s when my mother told me this: sometimes, dreams are just your mind and soul processing something that actually happened. But other times, it’s the mind’s way of trying to find closure for something that hasn’t happened. So even if the dream isn’t nice, you have to wait until the end. Only then will your mind be able to tell you what it needs, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear.”

Wiping the silent tears off of Cal’s cheeks, you give him a comforting smile.

“And I know this doesn’t compare in any way to the nightmares you have,” you say. “But, maybe, you just need to let them play out. What if it’s your subconscious trying to tell you something and you cut it off before it has a chance to? What if… it’s the Force trying to tell you something important?”

This seems to click in some way with Cal, and he takes a moment to think over your words.

“Whatever happens, when you wake up you won’t be alone. I promise”, you assure him.

Cal is about to say something, when his eyes shut closed and he claims his head hurts again. He blinks a couple of times, holding his head, and his eyes switch between greenish blue and yellow. 

“Don’t block it out,” you encourage him, removing his hands from his temples and bringing them to your face instead. “I take back what I said earlier. You can be greedy, but not out there. Be greedy with me. Take everything you want, Cal. As much as you need. It’s all for you.”

He blinks one, two more times, his eyes fully reverted to their usual fiery yellow, and the fear from before is completely gone, now replaced with something sharp and dark.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says through gritted teeth, his whole body trembling in anticipation or self-control, maybe both.

“But I do,” you reassure him, climbing over his legs so you’re sitting on his lap, and gently press your forehead against his. “That yearning is eating you up from the inside. You’re hurting. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

Cal’s hands wander from your cheeks over your shoulders, down your arms, until they rest on your waist. He looks up at you, still a little unsure, and you roll your hips against his to further encourage him and tell him it’s okay. You both can’t help the low moans that escape your lips.

“It’s okay, Cal,” you whisper, leaning in and stopping just above his lips, where you feel his shaky breath. “Consume me until there’s nothing left.”

That seems to snap him back to his usual, more dominant self that he is in intimate moments like this. Adjusting your position in his lap, he presses your body into his, kissing you passionately. It’s just as intense as your make-out sessions usually are, but there’s something else lingering as well. You can’t quite describe it, but it’s like there’s a newfound meaning behind his actions. As if he is trying to pour his whole being and soul into it in an attempt to reach you. And it does. In fact, he’s using all his senses, Force included, to breathe in all of you, and his presence envelops you like it never has before.

You start undoing both your uniforms, and you pull back for a moment to take a much needed breather. 

“You’re doing great,” you pant, not really thinking about what you’re saying as you try to undo the clasps and buttons as fast as your trembling hands will allow. “Such a good boy for me.”

To say that his whimper takes you by surprise, is an understatement. You stop your movements and pull back a little more to take in the image before you: Cal’s partially exposed chest is rising and sinking rapidly, a violent blush spreading from the tip of his ears all the way down to his sternum. His usual confidence and cockiness seem gone, and biting his bottom lip, hair completely dishevelled, he gives you a flustered look you’ve never seen on him.

“Don’t call me that,” he breathes, trying to pull you closer again so you can’t look at him.

“Call you what, a good boy?” you tease him, and his whole body tenses up under you as he takes a sharp breath. “I think you rather like it, no? Being such a good boy for me. C’mon, keep going.”

He relentlessly attacks your neck just the way he knows you like, biting and licking and nibbling along your pulse. 

“Ah, kriff, these uniforms, I swear–” you curse under your breath into Cal’s temple, trying to rid yourself of your jacket without losing contact with him. You only manage to push it down to your elbows. Cal’s hands slip under your shirt and start wandering up and up. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, goosebumps erupting on your arms and back as you arch yourself into his hold. Another moan escapes your throat as he bites down hard, immediately licking the darkened spot. You finally manage to shake off your jacket and–

Your comlink beeps and you groan. Cal seems unbothered, as he’s still going, now moving back up to finding your lips, tongue darting out to meet yours. After blindly tapping around to find the device in a pocket of your discarded jacket, you take it out and look at the caller ID. Your blood freezes when you recognise it to be your boss. Right, you’re in a maintenance shaft half naked with the inquisitor when you should be at your office. 

Shoving Cal away begrudgingly, he growls in annoyance, about to flick the still beeping comlink out of your hand.

“Wait, wait, it could be important,” you say through heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down enough to sound somewhat normal. Cal merely pushes his face into your chest with a defeated sigh. After clearing your throat, you take the call.

“Took you long enough, officer,” your boss says in a clearly annoyed tone that makes you cringe slightly.

“Sorry, Sir, I was, uh, occupied,” you stumble over your words and mentally slap yourself. Cal doesn’t even try to hide his snort at your response. You smack him lightly on the back of his head.

“Whatever you were doing, officer,” the man says in a way that he knows exactly what you were doing and with whom. “Prepare your things and get ready, you’re to leave for an off-planet mission by tonight.”

“Yes, Sir,” you reply, instinctively straightening your back.

“You’re to meet us at the hangar by 1900 hours. And officer,” he adds with a sigh, his voice adopting a strange tone of embarrassment, almost. “If inquisitor Kestis happens to be there, tell him to come as well.”

“Understood, Sir,” Cal replies with no qualms, and you’re petrified. 

After one more sigh and some unintelligible curses, your boss hangs up. 

You blink a couple of times, trying to recover from the shock. Great, now your boss knows for sure what you were up to. 

“We’re not done here,” Cal says, as he places one last kiss on the corner of your mouth and stands up, helping you get on your feet as well. “We’ll pick up where we left off later.”

“At a different location though, I would hope,” you chuckle as you two get ready to leave the little room.

After a quick detour to the nearest washroom, where you both fix your messy hair and uniforms (his smirk as you’re barely able to cover all the hickeys with your propped up collar will be the end of you), and one to your office for you to pick up some supplies, you make your way to the hangar. A group of people is already waiting for you two; two purge troopers, two stormtroopers of your own squad your boss stand next to Cal’s ship, a zeta-class shuttle: black, sleek and menacing. 

After the debrief, you review the data on your holopad. It’s a mission on another planet, and you’re always excited to get one of those, as you don’t get to go out “into the field” often. In this case there’s a possible rebel cell, but their transmissions are set up in a way that decoding them from the Fortress Inquisitorius would take a considerable amount of time, so it’s quicker to get close to the base and physically infiltrate their comms system to get the information you need. Additionally, there’s been a tip about a possible Jedi being hidden within the rebel group, that’s why they’re sending an inquisitor as well. You’re to stay on the ship working on the decryption while they do their thing.

The ship takes off, and once you’re far enough, you make the jump into hyperspace. During the trip, both the purge troopers and Cal sit unnervingly still, probably power napping and saving their energy for the possible fight ahead. Your two troopers are in the cockpit flying the ship and having a chat, so you have a lot of time for yourself. You mainly work on preparing your equipment, revising your software and getting all the tools you’d need ready. It doesn’t take long for you to have everything prepped; the moment you’d enter the planet’s atmosphere, your scans would tell you the rebel’s comm system location within seconds, and once you land, you can head right out to hook up your own tech. There’s still a good portion of waiting after you’re done though, and with the constant hyperspace humming, you find yourself dozing on and off, replaying the earlier conversation you had with Cal in your mind, wondering how to act and what to say once you get back to base. 

After what feels like an eternity, the piloting troopers finally announce you’re here. The drop out of hyperspace shakes you slightly, and as you look out the window, you see your goal: a small planet on the very edge of the Outer Rim; you’ve never been this far away from the Core Worlds, and as you see the vast expanse of pitch black void surrounding it, you notice the lack of starts in the distance, and you almost let yourself be swallowed by the dread that runs a cold shiver down your spine. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of any distracting thoughts and get to work. As expected, your holopad is already beeping, alerting you that it found your target location. You stand up from your seat and approach the cockpit, for which you have to walk past Cal. His helmet visor is aimed at the floor in front of his feet, and he doesn’t look up as you walk by. For all you know, his eyes could be trained on you though; there’s no way to know for sure. 

Standing between the pilot seats, you show one of the troopers the coordinates on your holopad, and he punches them into the console. Holding onto the back of the seat, you stand there as the ship approaches the area you marked, and the landing is swift and almost motionless. So this is what the good ships feel like, you think to yourself. And the troopers seem to be thinking the same, if the slow whistle coming from one of them is anything to go by.

You turn around to go inform the purge troopers you’re here, but Cal is already standing in front of you, blocking your exit from the cockpit. 

“My men and I will look for our target, you two stay here,” he says as he points at the two stormtroopers. Then he gestures towards you with his head. “The officer is in charge while I’m gone, and better be unharmed when I come back, understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” they respond in unison. 

Cal seems to linger on your form for a second longer, then turns on his heels. The cargo door opens and the smell of humid, tropical air reaches your nose. Cal and his troopers take off, and you nod to yourself with an ‘alright’, as you get to work. Connecting a couple of wires here and there, you call one of the troopers to you.

“We need to bring this–” you point at your contraption. “–to the base of this structure.” You show him the red dot on the holomap at the edge of a water body. “That seems to be the backbone of their communication system. There have to be wires that we can hook the machine into.”

“Understood.”

He picks up the machine and starts heading out. You gather a couple more tools, throw them into your bag and sling it over your shoulder. As you approach the cargo door, you turn to the other trooper one last time.

“You stay here and hold down the fort. Keep the usual channels open for us and for C- Inquisitor Kestis.”

“Yes, Sir!” 

And off you go.

After a while, you get to the point at the cliff as indicated by your holomap. Both you and the stormtrooper stand at the ledge, carefully looking down. At the base, a broad river runs along the cliffside. Scanning the rocky walls with your eyes, you find what you’re looking for.

“Jackpot,” you say, pointing at something, and the trooper follows your line of sight. “That’s our transmitter.”

It’s essentially a big metal box built into the side of the cliff, with an antenna on one side and a rather wonky satellite dish on the other, partially hidden under a rocky overhang. You’d have to climb down quite a bit to reach it.

“We didn’t bring any climbing equipment,” the trooper points out. 

“We improvise,” you retort with a shrug.

You take the rope out of your bag and tie one end to a nearby tree that looks sturdy enough, and the other around your legs and waist.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Sir,” the stormtrooper starts. “If anything happens to you, Inquisitor Kestis will–” He’s stopped by the stern look you shoot him. 

“I know how to take care of myself, trooper,” You say firmly. “Now, help me get down there.” 

You plug in one of the thicker wires into your machine, holding the other end between your teeth. The trooper helps you climb down the cliffside step by step, slowly letting you down. Once you reach the desired point by the transmitter, you take the wire out of your mouth.

“Here’s good! Hold it there!” you call. A  grunt is all the response you get. 

You plug in the wire, and your holopad starts beeping, starting to intercept the messages. But they’re not written words, voices or even proper sounds, it just sounds and looks like static. 

“Guess I have to calibrate my receiver,” you think aloud. “Pull me up!”

Climbing back up the way you came, you untie the rope the moment you find your footing again, which left a slight stinging sensation at the back of your legs, and you absent-mindedly rub your bum to alleviate the sensation. You notice the trooper giving you a strange look, and heat spreads on your face.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say as you straighten up, looking for an order to give. “Go, uh, go collect the rope.”

“Yes, Sir…” he responds with a snicker.

You roll your eyes, but you’re not really mad at him. That must have just looked really funny. Either way, time to get to work: you kneel down next to your contraption, holding your holopad next to it, adjusting some levels here and pressing buttons there. But no matter how much you try to isolate the signal, it still doesn’t get cleaner or clearer.

The trooper places the neatly tied up rope next to your bag which you left on the ground, then holds up his blaster, undoing the safety. You look up at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m not sure…” he answers. “I have a bad feeling about this place. Let’s get what we came for and go back to the ship.”

“Okay…” you stretch out the word, unsure what put him on edge like that. Yes, there’s known aggressive fauna here, but all in all the planet is abandoned, there's no particular danger. Not documented, anyway. You keep looking at the static on your holopad, trying to make sense of it. But the more you see, the less random it seems. That’s when it dawns on you. 

Suddenly, you furiously type away on your pad, trying to translate the encoded message, but it’s just gibberish. You tilt your head in confusion, revising your translation; it should be right. But it isn’t. Why?...

“Oh!” You say after a few more seconds, getting up to your feet so quickly that it almost makes you dizzy. “Oh, this is actually quite brilliant. Ah, these rebels sure are getting crafty. Come here, you’re gonna love this.”

The stormtrooper shoots one last look over his shoulder into the vegetation, then turns to you, still holding tightly onto his blaster.

“You ever heard of Dadita?” you ask, not bothering to hide your excitement.

“No?”

“Of course you haven’t,” you say with a click of your tongue. “It’s an ancient Mandalorian code consisting of short and long bursts of static, where each combination stands for a letter. But these rebels combined it with Mon Calamari blink code, which is the same principles but with light sequences. They used Dadita static, but the sequences actually correspond to the blink code letters. No wonder back at HQ they thought we couldn’t intercept proper comms. It’s made to look like static.”

“Uh-huh,” is all you get out of the trooper, still nervously looking around.

“C’mon, this is cool,” you try, but to no avail. Sighing in defeat, you add, “You know what, nevermind. Let’s just go back.”

At least Cal will show interest in your find. Or so you hope. Speaking of, you wonder how he’s doing. You know you shouldn’t ping him as it could interfere with his mission, but you just hope they made it back safely to the ship by the time you’re there.

“Contact the ship, will you? And tell them we’re going back,” you instruct. The trooper presses some buttons on the console on his wrist.

“Ground team to ship, do you copy?”

The only answer is static.

You look in the direction of the ship as the trooper tries again, and you feel something cold on your nose, then on your cheek. You look up; it’s starting to rain. Great. Your machine shouldn’t have trouble with a little rain, but you still don’t feel great about it. You kinda made it up on the spot, so there are a couple of exposed wires. 

“We need to go get something to cover the receiver. Any answer yet?” you ask, and it’s really starting to come down now. You have to blink several times to get the water out of your eyes.

“No,” he responds, nervously looking around. “I told you, something is wrong.”

“Okay, no need to panic,” to try to calm him down; his demeanour is starting to make you nervous as well. “Let’s just quickly go back; I'm pretty sure I saw a piece of canvas that we can use to–” You sling your bag back onto your shoulders as you speak, but the inertia of the bag makes you lose your balance for a second, and with the ground now turning into mud, your boot loses its grip on the ground, making you slip and your knees give out under you. 

“Officer!” You hear the stormtrooper call as he stretches out his arm in a vain attempt to catch you, but you’re already falling backwards off the cliff. Seemingly in slow motion, the trooper and the treeline disappear from your view, being replaced by a grey, cloudy sky. You close your eyes, feeling the droplets on your face and the air rushing by your ears, and you’re strangely calm. All you can think of is Cal.

Are you okay? I wish we had properly made up before this. 

When your back hits the water of the river at the base of the cliff, your survival instincts are awoken all at once. The current is stronger than what it seemed from up the ledge. You swim with all your might, trying to stay afloat and taking gulps of air whenever you can. it isn't long until your arms are burning from the sudden effort, and you scan your surroundings, desperate to find something to hold onto. The river seems to open up and away from the cliffside. Here, the shores are filled with mangrove-like trees, their roots thick and plenty, some of them stretching out like low-hanging branches over the water surface. You try to hold on to one, but your gloves don't provide much of a grip, so you take them off and ditch them. Nearing the next big branch, you ready yourself and throw your upper body out of the water so that you can hold onto it with both your arms, and it works. Slowly, you inch closer and closer to the tree trunk, until you reach the shore. Letting yourself fall onto the mossy ground, you take some deep breaths trying to calm down your breathing, racing heart and aching limbs.

You pat your uniform and conclude that you lost your bag somewhere along the way, which had your holopad and all your equipment. You sit up and wipe the back of your sleeve over your eyes, but the constant rain keeps hitting your face. You pop open the collar of your uniform and it feels like ridding yourself of a chokehold. The uniforms were never particularly comfortable, being on the stiff side, but drenched like this, it’s much worse.

Looking around, you stand up; you have no idea where you are or where the ship could be. Giving yourself one more pat down, you find your comlink in one of your zipped up pockets, and thank the Maker under your breath. 

“Hello? Does anyone copy?”

You can hear static, so you assume that it is working, but it’s the mic or speaker, or both that are ruined. At least from the ship they should be able to locate you with it. 

A gust of wind makes you shiver slightly; despite it being a rather tropical climate, being completely wet does make you feel the dropping temperatures that will probably await you at night. In fact, it’s starting to get dark. 

They’ll find me. It’s fine. I just have to make sure I’m alive by the time they get here, hah, you tell yourself with a wry chuckle. 

First thing you have to do is seek shelter from the relentless rain. Hugging yourself, you cringe at the sensation of your feet against the wet boots, but you still take step after step into the vegetation, looking for some place to dry off. Completely lost and giving up on the idea of ever getting out of this maze by yourself, the only information you keep in your head is the direction of the river; you'll be needing water after all. For now, you could just drink rain water though, so you venture further and further away into the forest. With the dense branches sporting big, round leaves, they already stop part of the rain, but not enough. Finally, you come across a big tree, the roots lifted into the air so that they form something akin to a cage, and the ground beneath it is dry; that's exactly what you need.

Hurrying through the gaps between the roots, you take off your boots, jacket and trousers, giving everything a good squeeze to wring as much water out as possible. Left in your underwear and a black short sleeve shirt, you wonder what to do next. You’d need food soon. You sigh, leaning back onto the rough surface of the tree.

“This is exactly why I wanted an office job,” you say bitterly. So much for being excited about a mission ‘on the field’. 

For now, you decide to wait out the rain, which could hopefully stop just as suddenly as it started, and you just sit there, holding your comlink in your hands, looking at it intently. 

After a while, the rain finally seems to subside, and while your clothes are nowhere dry, you don’t exactly want to explore a jungle half naked. So you put your trousers back on, which takes a while, as the wet fabric keeps sticking to your legs. After what feels like another workout, you finally zip them up, and put on your equally wet boots. Oh, how you crave a warm shower right now. 

Taking the jacket into your hands, you feel the wet fabric and decide to leave it. Your skin dried much faster, so it was better to be a little cold without a jacket than very cold with a drenched one. Placing your comlink into your pocket, you go foraging for some sort of fruit or berry. After the rain and with no equipment, you doubt you’d be able to start a fire to cook anything, so you have to find something you can eat raw. 

As you’re picking some reddish purple berries from a bush and contemplating if you can eat them, you hear some rustling behind you. Dropping the berries and immediately turning around, you’re met with a human and you notice several things. First of all, they’re holding their side, which is bleeding a lot, their clothes stained in a dark red. Second, you see the lightsabre in their hand, emitting a blueish hue, its electric hum the only sound aside of their ragged breathing. And third, you see the plea in their deep brown eyes, silently asking you for help. Almost in the same moment, you also see their eyes dart down to your uniform and back up to your own, realisation spreading on their face. And you’re conflicted.

You know who’s after them. You know what’s going to happen. So it’s not like you don’t want to help; you can’t. If the circumstances were different, would you help? You realise you don’t want to know the answer to that. Either way, you're unarmed, hungry and shivering, so you can't really put up much of a fight against them either. 

“I'm sorry,” you say instead, and you're not really sure which part you're apologising for. You're about to take a step to the side and gesture them to go past you, but you hear footsteps approaching quickly.

The stranger winces in pain as they try to take another step, but collapse onto the ground, the sabre retracting with a whirr. They look up at you again, this time enraged, a deep frown etched into their face, and you're about to say something, but a modulated voice is quicker.

“Officer, what are you doing here?” It’s the purge trooper.

“I- I fell,” you say sheepishly. He scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head.

“Well, good job stopping our target. It’s a slippery one, this one.”

The trooper picks up the sabre, and turns around the Jedi onto their back with his boot, earning a pained grunt. From behind him emerges Cal out of the vegetation, and you’re horrified at how he looks: helmet gone, hair wild, and face partially covered in blood. If it’s his own or not, you can’t tell. He looks frustrated and beyond angry. You’re about to say something, asking if he’s okay, but the sharp look in his eyes freezes you in your spot. 

“It’s the end of the line now, Jedi,” he spits through gritted teeth, and holds his red lightsabre a little tighter. He shoots you a quick look, then at his trooper, and motions with his head to the side. The man nods and turns to you, grabbing you by your bicep, and starts dragging you away. 

“Wait, wait!” You try to turn back around, but the trooper’s grip keeps facing you forward. When you reach a thick tree, he slams your back into it rather harshly, and tells you to stay there. He doesn’t move from in front of you, holding onto his electrostaff with both hands. It emits an electric crackle of purplish hue, clearly warning you not try anything funny. And to be honest, you don't have the energy right now, so you just rest the back of your head against the bark. You can hear the stranger starting to plead for their life, trying to get under Cal’s skin, saying something about a time before being an inquisitor, but Cal is fresh out of patience, and the Jedi chokes on their words. Their laboured breathing fills this corner of the jungle, and after the sound of a lightsabre swinging and the distinct sizzling of flesh, there is silence.

The purge trooper stretches his neck to see past the tree, then gestures to you with a quick nod.

“Let’s go,” he says, and you comply.

Cal stands in front of the body, partially shielding it from your view, and you walk past him as well, following the trooper. As you three make your way back, you notice there's no trace of the second purge trooper that had left with them.

“The other one's dead,” Cal says before you can even ask, and gets handed the Jedi’s lightsabre, which he clips onto his belt. “Why are you down here? And where's your jacket?” You sigh.

“I fell,” you say, and it still sounds as stupid as it did before. “I slipped, and fell down the cliff. I left my jacket by the river. But before that I did get the receiver hooked up and I know how to decrypt the messages. Do you know if my squad made it back to the ship?”

“Don’t know, our comms don't really seem to work down here.” He suddenly stops and looks around, gesturing to a different direction, and the purge trooper takes off through the bushes. Cal turns back to you, and you shoot him a questioning look. 

“You fell from a cliff? Just what were you doing.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly distressed by your reckless actions. “I pinged you several times, and you didn't answer. I knew it probably was the signal being jammed but… I thought that– What if–”

“Hey, it's okay. I'm okay.” You place your hand on his chest and that's when you notice several gashes on his uniform. “Are you okay, though?”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his worry replaced by exasperation.

“You really shouldn't have–”

He stops in the middle of his sentence and takes a quick step back away from you as both your heads turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. The purge trooper approaches Cal and hands him his helmet. Or what's left of it, anyway. The visor is broken, the part that sits above the jaw seems to have been sliced off entirely, and there are several dents on the other side. Your eyes meet Cal’s again in worry, but he avoids your gaze entirely. 

“Let’s move.”

The trek back to the ship is quick, as per the relentless pace of the two men. There are some obstacles on the way though, where you need a little help. When crossing a river with a particularly strong current, you lose your footing on the rocky riverbed, and find yourself holding onto the next best thing, which happens to be the purge trooper. He lets you hold him as he guides you across to the other side, where he quickly shakes you off. You wonder if he’s really that uncomfortable to be close to you, and you make a mental note not to ask purge troopers for anything in the future, especially if it entailed physical contact of any kind. But what you didn't see were the Force daggers that Cal was stabbing into the back of the poor man’s head.

Not long after the river, you come face to face with an abrupt slope with a flat, rocky surface. It’s almost like a wall, leading to the plateau above. It’s too high to jump and too even to climb, so you wonder how you will get up there. Once again, Cal seems to read your mind, as before you can even ask, you see him essentially levitating up and onto the ledge above. Now that's a handy Force trick. You expect him to throw down a rope or something for you to hold onto, but instead, you're being lifted off the ground by an invisible force, as is the trooper next to you. Once you reach the top, you’re gently placed back on solid ground, while the trooper is let go far earlier, which he is unprepared for, so he falls forward and onto his knees with a grunt. But he gets back up onto his feet without complaints or remarks, simply dusting off his thighs and continuing the way back to the ship. You want to scold Cal a little for being unnecessarily mean, but the harshness still etched into his face, now stained with dry and flaky patches of blood, refrains you from making any comments. 

Finally, you make it back to a place you recognise, where the ship isn’t far away. You run off first, despite your muscles screaming in pain to finally give them some rest. The cargo door is closed, and you bang your hand on it twice.

“Open up!” you order, and the ramp opens with a mechanical hiss, then gets lowered down. You quickly climb up before it even completely reaches the ground.  

“Officer!” both stormtroopers exclaim in unison and in apparent relief when they see you alive and in one piece. One of them runs off to the equipment storage to get a blanket for you, and you gladly accept it. Only now do you realise how cold and stiff your whole body feels. 

“Have you been intercepting the messages?” you ask, grabbing a spare holopad to log into your receiver’s software to start decrypting. 

“Yes, and as you said, it’s a coded transmission made with static bursts” the first trooper explains, the one you had been on the cliff with. “I covered up the receiver with the canvas as you asked, and we’ve been monitoring it this whole time, but we didn’t know how to decrypt it without you…”

“That’s okay, that’s my job after all.” You playfully shove your elbow into his side. “I’m just glad you’re both alive.” You smile genuinely at them, and you wonder if they're smiling back at you from under their helmets as well. The Empire may think that stormtroopers are easily replaceable, but this is your squad. And you intend to take care of them.

You take a step back to take a seat and start decrypting, but your back bumps into something, or rather someone. You turn around just in time to see Cal gesture to the purge trooper, who once again merely gives a short nod, then heads to the cockpit.

“Let’s get out of here,” is the last thing you hear him say before the cockpit and cargo doors close with a hiss, and the engines start.

Cal and you just stand there for a moment, looking at each other. 

“Are you going to say something?,” you go first. “Because if not, I have work to do.”

You sit down and he doesn't stop you, instead taking a seat next to you. You type away on the holopad, letter by letter, and the message starts forming. By typing with both hands you’re quicker, but the blanket keeps slipping down from your shoulders. Cal notices and picks it up, wrapping your form in it properly again, and then leaving his arm around you so it would stay there. You give him a quick ‘thanks’, but don't stop what you're doing. For a moment you wonder if you're giving him the silent treatment, and if so, why, but you really have to get this thing decrypted, so you focus on that for the time being. 

At some point, Cal carefully places his head on your shoulder, and when you don't shoo him away, he properly gets comfortable. By then, you've written a program to automate the decoding. It's a bit crude and not your best, but it works. Now the decrypted message appears much faster, and it seems to be mostly correct, except for the occasional letter here and there. The message is still clear and understandable, though, and you can feel your focus and energy quickly depleting, so you decide it’s good enough for now. You set it up so that the live decryption gets sent back to HQ as your receiver feeds the rebel comms into it.

Setting down your holopad on the seat next to you with a yawn, you gently stroke Cal’s cheek.

“You awake?” you ask softly, and he hums.

“You done?” he asks back, and you hum as well.

Then you sit in silence again. The constant rumbling of the ship, combined with your adrenaline completely gone now, is all inviting you to the sweet embrace of sleep.

“We have to talk when we get back,” is the last thing you manage to mumble before drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

— — —

You wake up to your shoulder being shaken and the repeated call of your name. Your eyes shoot open and you sit up straight, immediately slumping back down with a wince as your whole body aches, both because of the whole river action earlier, and sleeping in such a weird position. 

Standing up with a grunt, you shiver as you look down at yourself: still without a jacket, your boots and trousers are stained with dirt, moss and sand. Your upper half must look even worse. Especially with the marks on your neck and who knows where else, courtesy of the inquisitor himself. So you grab the blanket and wrap it around yourself like a hooded poncho of sorts, hoping to hide most of your face and dirty clothes.

“I called earlier and they're waiting with a stretcher for you at the hangar,” Cal says as you try to hide both your head and legs, but the blanket clearly isn't big enough for that. You turn around with a raised eyebrow. “They're going to wrap you up and take you straight to medbay. So no one will see you.”

“How–”

“I may or may not have said that you might have a slight case of hypothermia.”

“We were on a planet with tropical climate,” you retort.

“I was convincing,” is all he says.

You can't question him further, as you feel the familiar sway of a landing ship. When it hits the ground with a ‘clunk’, everything happens so quickly: the cockpit and cargo doors open, and Cal suddenly picks you up bridal style. He places you onto the promised stretcher which is already waiting at the base of the ramp, and two med troopers quickly wrap you up in an emergency foil blanket. Just like that, you're taken to the medbay. 

After your check-up, they tell you that other than being a little shaken and dehydrated, you're fine. You're free to stay a little longer to rest up, but you can also leave if you feel like it. And just like that, you're alone in the little room. How Cal managed to convince them to give you the private medbay room, you still don't know. But at this point, you should probably be used to it. Inquisitors seem to get almost anything they want here. Albeit at a cost.

The cot is decently comfy, and you consider staying here for a couple more hours to nap and rest up, knowing you won't be interrupted. So you get comfortable with a sigh, and just as you find a good position to sleep in, the doors open. You groan, lifting the blanket over your face. 

“I thought you were asleep,” Cal says as the doors close behind him and he approaches your bed. 

“I was about to be,” you reply with a sigh and fold the blanket back down to sit up properly. You're about to ask him what he wants, when you see that he’s sporting several bandages, one on his jaw, and some on his torso, visible through the white shirt he’s wearing. 

“Are you okay?,” you ask and scoot over on the bed to make what little room you can spare for him to sit. However, he stays where he stands.

“Just a couple of scratches, I’ve had worse,” he replies, but it doesn’t make you feel better. “What about you?”

“Well, it’s not hypothermia,” you joke, in an attempt to ease the strange tension building between the two of you, but he doesn’t react. “I’ve basically been discharged. I was just about to nap, but… what is it?”

He looks at you as if he didn’t know what you mean. But the whole time, he’s been chewing the inside of his cheek. Clearly something is on his mind, and right now you don't have the energy to play the back and forth game.

“You want to tell me something, right? So, tell me.” You want to sound trusting, but it comes out harsher than you meant. He seems slightly taken aback.

“You said earlier you wanted to talk,” he retorts defensively. “And I understand.”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitates for a second.

“We don’t need to keep–” He looks for the right word. “–seeing each other.”

You pause for a moment, trying to dig deeper behind his words and try to get the real meaning out, but you're lost and rather shocked by his words.

“What do you mean?” you repeat yourself, alarmed.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair; he's nervous.

“I didn’t want you to see it,” he starts, avoiding looking at you. “It’s a side of me I didn't want you to see.”

“Oh,” you say, and you understand what he's getting at; the whole hunting and killing Jedi business. 

“What do you mean, ‘oh’?” he asks, his eyes finding yours and narrowing them at you. “Isn’t that what you wanted to talk about?”

“I mean, we can talk about it if you want to. I–” You sheepishly fidget with your fingers on your lap. You actually wanted to talk about how he treats his purge troopers, but this is far more important, you realise. “Yeah, let’s talk about that.”

Before he can inquire what you actually meant to talk about, you gesture for him to sit next to you. He still doesn’t move.

“Please sit,” you insist, and finally, he does. With the extra weigh dipping the mattress, you kind of lean into his side. You keep talking, both of you looking ahead. “Everything I said earlier, it still stands, you know.”

He doesn’t respond, so you continue.

“About the… warmth. And you being you and still deserving it.” You gingerly place your hand over his, and he momentarily flinches, but doesn’t pull away. “I’m not stupid, Cal. I know what you do. I’ve been aware of it from the start. And I simply don’t care. It’s not like my job is any better. My work also has… certain consequences, for others. And I’ve made peace with it.”

Finally you dare look up at him, his gaze still cast down. You can feel him trembling slightly though.

“You may be an inquisitor to others, but to me you're just Cal.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. “Cal who makes pancakes with me. Cal who calls in a stretcher for me so I can save myself the embarrassment of my boss seeing me being a dirty, flustered mess. Cal who would stab someone else for looking at me the wrong way.”

He chuckles lightly at that. You reach out to cup his face, and make him look at you.

“But also the Cal who has nightmares. Cal who is sometimes scared out of his mind. Cal who asks me to stay the night because he doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. I want all of them.” You pause for a second, but you’re too tired to fight the question that’s been pestering your mind for ages now. “And all those versions of Cal… they give me warmth too. Right?”

His shoulders slump slightly with a sharp exhale.

“They do,” he finally answers in a voice so small you almost miss it. 

“Glad we could clear that up then,” you say just as softly, and close the gap to place a kiss to his lips, and he reciprocates so tenderly, holding your face like it could crumble any moment and disappear through his fingers. 

You want to pull back from the kiss, but his lips follow yours, capturing them once again. Cal climbs on top of you, pushing you back down onto the mattress.

“Don’t you want to get back to–” you try offering to move to a better location, but your words are interrupted by the squeal you let out as he pinches your side. 

“We have to make up for lost time,” he states, getting back to attacking you with kisses, each one more and more ferocious.

You hear the distinct hiss of the doors opening, but Cal is quick to close them again with a quick flick of his wrist. From the other side, you can hear the nurse complaining. 

“The officer is busy,” Cal calls over his shoulder, looking down at you the way a predator looks at its prey. “Come back later.” 

— — —

Later that night, after a shower and slipping into your comfiest PJs, you’re both in his bed. Cal lies on his back and you have your head on his chest, drawing random figures onto his shirt. 

“Are you sure about this?” Cal asks for the hundredth time. 

“Yes,” you reassure him, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can place a kiss on his nose. “I’ll talk you through it. Just, try to stay in the dream. It will all work out, I promise.” 

“Right,” he sighs, closing his eyes, and takes a deep breath. 

You get back to cuddling into his side, and the even drumming of his heartbeat does quick work of lulling you to sleep.

It doesn’t take long, however, and you wake up to Cal twitching again. His brows are furrowed, his hands holding onto the bedsheet for dear life, and you sit up next to him, caressing his hair and holding his hand, whispering words of encouragement.

Cal is back on Bracca, collecting scraps from the same ships that he used to call home back when he was a Padawan. That seems so long ago now. Lifetimes ago. And maybe it is. 

What would his younger self think of what he is now? 

Cal stands at the edge of the partially stripped apart engine, impossibly small against the size of the machinery. A voice calls out to him, and he turns around. The world around him spins, turning into a blinding white, and he shields his eyes from the sudden change with his hands. 

“Why are you here?” a trembling voice asks.

Cal looks up, meeting his own eyes, still a greenish blue, of his 13-year-old self. Disappointment and horror etched into his little face.

“What have you done?” another voice spits condescendingly.

Cal whips around, now looking at his master, Jaro Tapal, looking at him in disgust. 

“Cal!” 

He turns around again, starting to get dizzy, and his body freezes up, he can’t breathe. He’s standing at the edge of a scrapper platform now, surrounded by other people he used to know, but all their faces are blurred or scratched out. However, he can clearly see Prauf, his good friend Prauf, confronting the Second Sister. She holds her sabre at his throat, the blade sizzling in the rain. The red hue reflects in Prauf’s eyes.

Cal instinctively reaches out to his belt, expecting to find his own lightsabre, but it’s not there. He looks down at himself, and sees that he’s donning full inquisitor armour. 

“Kill him,” the Second Sister orders.

Finally, Cal seems to be able to move and breathe again, and he takes a huge gulp of air. 

“I said, kill him,” she repeats.

“No,” Cal says, and she slowly turns around to him. 

“No?”, she chuckles, but the venom spills out of her voice like an overflowing glass of spotchka. It burns. 

Suddenly, Cal is shoved in her direction against his will, and his inquisitor lightsabre appears in his hand. His arm is lifted into the air by an invisible force, about to swing down on top of Prauf’s head. 

“Do it!” she yells, and Cal screams as well, trying with all his might to hold back his arm. 

He hates this, he wants out. It hurts too much. The force trying to push down his arm and the sad look in his friend’s eyes tear into his heart like iron claws, shredding everything in its way.

Cal can hear the Second Sister’s voice yelling, urging him to get it done, but he hears something else too: it’s you. Your voice cuts through the cacophony of the scrapping grounds, pushing away all sounds of machinery, drills, saws, the rain itself and the inquisitor’s voice. Shoving it all aside, there’s just you.

“It’s okay, Cal,” you say, and the oppressing force on his arm is lifted with every word of yours. “I’m here, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re not alone.”

Finally, the force is gone entirely, and he screams in both pain and relief. Cal lets go of his weapon, which retracts mid-air with a whirr, and it falls to the ground. 

The world around him freezes, and everyone disappears. He’s back in the blinding white room, now  in his old scrapper outfit.

“Cal,” Prauf’s voice comes from behind him, and the redhead whips around. 

“My friend,” Prauf says warmly, as he always did, and stretches out his arms. A silent invitation. 

Cal hesitates only for a second, then gives in. Taking the few steps that separate the two, he lets himself be embraced by the Abednedo. Unable to hold back, he cries into his friend’s chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasps between sobs. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” the older man comforts him, lightly patting Cal’s back. “It’s not your fault.”

After a few more moments, when Cal’s cries subside, he pulls back to look up at Prauf.

“Why am I here?” he asks.

Prauf smiles down at him.

“I just wanted to let you know: it’s not your fault,” he says, placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “And to say thank you, for being my friend. I hope you found your way off Bracca and can have a peaceful life. You’ve been through so much, kid.”

Cal feels another wave of tears prickling behind his eyes.

“You never really belonged on Bracca, but I’m glad I met you,” Prauf says, his voice trailing off, as if swept off by the wind, as his image also starts disappearing from in front of Cal. “I hope you found your place.”

“No, wait!” he calls, trying to hold on to him, but his hands phase through the shadow of the figure still left.

Suddenly, Cal sits up on the bed with a scream, which takes you by surprise and you flinch backwards, falling onto your hands on the bed. 

He holds his shirt over his heart so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and with a broken sob, he lets himself fall back onto the bed. You hurry to scoot closer.

“You were right,” Cal says between sobs. “The Force was trying to get a message to me.”

That night, you hold him as he cries, this time not out of fear, but because he can finally allow himself to grief the loss of a friend from a long time ago.

I found my place, Prauf, Cal thinks, about to drift off to sleep after the exhaustion of crying takes over. He looks at you lying on his chest one last time, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

He hopes that some day, he’ll be able to find warmth just with you, not needing to resort to other methods ever again. And maybe then, finally, he can offer you all the warmth back that he forgot he held.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @kalea-bane, @soka-writes-things, @padawancat97, @riddikulus-obsessions, @optimisticprime3, @starilicious, @ivelostmyabilitytoeven, @alternatescififandomelover, @lovelyygirl8, @cathyket

[mncxbe]

Hi, it's my birthday next week, so may I please request Bram, Tetchou, Sigma and Ranpo celebrating their s/o's birthday with them (could be anything.. from headcanons to scenarios to oneshots and from fluff to smut, I don't mind)? No rush, take your time, please!

omg happy early birthday nonnie🎂 and ofc I loved writing these hcs hope u like it too. I was planning to do smth lengthier but I got caught up with work and couldn't buuut enjoy♡♡

°☆○

Spending your birthday with them♡

𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒎, 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂, 𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖, 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡

𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒎

"Ah, birthdays. I've had plenty of those"

he's not really sure how people celebrate anniversaries now, so he has to ask Aya about it

his original plan was to organize a big feast for you but he ends up making you dinner instead

if you want to have a party with your friends he'll agree to join, but he'd much rather spend time with you alone

in the evening the two of you would take a bath; with bubbles and candles and then just cuddle and watch a movie

Bram is especially gentle with you on your birthday and right before you go to bed he's gonna confess his love for you in the most old fashioned, romantic way possible. considering his status in the past I think he's highly educated so he knows his way with words

I see him gifting you jewelery

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖

Tecchou would ask you days before if you want to have any fancy party and would lowkey be relieved when you tell him that you only wanna spend your bday with him

due to his job he can't spend all day with you, but as soon as he gets home from work he hugs you and spins you around, wishing you happy birthday

then he takes you to a nice restaurant for dinner

he's the type to write you birthday letters and leave sticky notes with little heart shaped drawings around the house

Tecchou tries to bake you a cake and asks Jouno or Tachihara to taste it, but because he uses weird ingredients it turns out terrible so he just buys you a small cupcake instead

BIRTHDAY FLOWERS!!!💐💐

as for presents he gets you anything you want, really. if you're not willing to tell him what your heart desires too bad he's gonna contact all your friends and ask them what to get you

he cuddles you to sleep and tells you how much he loves you, how happy he is he got to spend another year with you♡

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂

Sigma would panic at first cuz he dosn't know what he's supposed to do for your birthday; he never celebrated his own so... yea

when he researches it on google and finds out he's supposed to get you a gift he freaks out again cuz he doesn't know what to get you

but eventually he ends up buying smth small like a plushie or books you've got on your reading list and a box of chocolates

he makes you a homemade birthday dinner and decorates the table with candles and flowers hhhh he's so romantic

now Sigma would be willing to get a little spicy with you if you want it; he doesn't mind it at all. you want bday sex? ok. but at the end of the day he still wants to cuddle you♡

in the evening he probably asks you what you usually do for your bday so he can be better prepared next year

I don't really see him being keen on big parties so he won't organize anything of the sort

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐

he wakes you up in the middle of the night like 1 a.m just to make sure he's the first one to wish you happy birthday

if you don't work for the Ada Ranpo would get a free day from work to spend time with you♡

and oh my if you know his colleagues he would throw you a small birthday party with them (Dazai's idea ofc)

baking a cake with Ranpo for your birthday is a must. Poe helps him do the shopping the day before so you've got all you need and of course, you end up doing most of the work while he just admires you and keeps sticking his fingers in the dough to "sample" it.

I don't think he'd get you a big gift tbh; he has the "what do you mean sugar? am I not enough of a gift for you?" mentality. he's also so much clingier than normally

now two words: birthday sex. this man is wakes you up with head and doesn't let you go to sleep in the evening until you've came at least two times.

Ranpo is usually lazy in bed but for your birthday he's willing to do all the work; after all, your special day is only once a year♡

[yukiotadako]

``I’m in love with you ok!``

-Shikanoin Heizou x M!reader

Desc: Reader is a detective working with heizhou, and recently he has been feeling something else for his colleague, heizou then notices and starts teasing the reader~ and then suddenly the reader blurts out something they shouldn’t sayy

not proofread

It was a peaceful day at inazuma, [Name] had just finished doing a commission with the traveler, and they were hanging out for a bit and traveler suddenly brought up a topic about Heizou.

``Hey [Name], do you and Heizou work together?`` Traveler says ``Well yes, he’s my colleague, why do you ask?`` [Name] says, sipping his tea.

``He’s pretty cool, and he talks about you a lot!`` Traveler says and [Name] stopped ``he talks about me?`` this had caught [Names] attention, he wanted to know what Heizou thinks of him all of a sudden, but he didn’t know why.

``Well, he says your cute, tall and handsome? also said that you have a great personality,`` [Name] blushed, thinking that his colleague though of him that way... made something spark in him.

He turned his face away and calmed his thoughts ``Really? thats what the stupid detective talks about? i think he could do better,`` He was actually happy to hear that Heizou thought of him this way, it gave him the little more hope he needed.

``Oh? me? a stupid detective, how inaccurate of you detective [Name]~`` [Name] tensed up and looked behind him to see Heizou with a smirk on his face.

``W-What are you doing here?! don’t you have a job to do??`` [Name] said as Heizou chuckled ``Hey traveler, mind leaving us alone for a moment?`` Traveler seemed to know what was going on, and nodded and then left to go to a more farther place from the two.

``What do you want now Shikanoin...`` [name] Refused to make eye contact or even glance at the detective, he was too flustered to even know what the detective was going to do as well.

``So, how come the most ‘smartest’ Detective can’t even look at Detective heizou in the eye? is he too flustered~`` Heizou said in a flirty tone and sat next to [Name].

``Shut up`` Heizou laughs and put his hand on the others thigh ``Don’t tell me you have an interest in me~ how cute of you~`` [Name] blushed even more, you can probably imagine how red he is tbh.

``Stop it Shikanoin..`` ``Look at your face! its so red! you probably do like me!`` [Name] gripped onto his pants, biting his lip, and all of a sudden.

``FINE! I LOVE YOU OK?! and I don’t even know why but-... shit`` [Name] covered his mouth, Heizou was shocked by this sudden outburst of [Name], he was only joking around but he didn’t expect an ACTUAL confession from him.

[Name] Got up and tried to leave but was pulled back by Heizou, and he fell back onto the seat.

``I love ya too~`` Heizou wrapped his arms around the other, and [Name] blushed extremely ``Good to know, I guess...`` [Name] melted into Heizou’s touch, and Traveler and Paimon watched.

 ``That detective! he made us leave and ate the desserts we paid for!!`` ``Let them be Paimon, we can always but another treat`` Traveler smiled and left the two on their special day <333

@meguru-yuzex​

my first post so i hope its ok :>

[therantsofawriterrr]

Sooooo my first kdrama of this year is King The Land and OMG IT'S SO CUTE HELP-

I started watching kdramas last year and the ones I've seen yet are: Hometown Cha Cha Cha, The Glory, Destined With You, Perfect Marriage Revenge, The Good Bad Mother, Alchemy Of Souls, My Lovely Liar (not completed) and Guardian (also not completed)

There might be spoilers under the break so

Gu Won is sooooooo cute. Going from hating Sarang's smile in the first or some ep to needing to make her smile on ep 4? Or 5 maybe idk but yea. I think this is the first kdrama I've seen where they both have like, an actual date so early on (it was a date, i will refuse to believe anything else). Plus i think it's also the first kdrama where the relationship development has mostly been fluffy and not angsty. I feel like it's gonna get angsty? Idk. But i feel like Gu Won and Sarang are like the typical grumpy-sunshine trope.

I love the fact that Sarang actually has besties that support her and listen to her and they have a realistic friendship? Like for me, personally, I haven't rly seen realistic friendships, might also be because i haven't seen that many, but this is the first kdrama where I've seen girl besties just be comfy with each other, healthy jealousy, randomly starting to party and all the other things. Friendship goals fr. I just hate how her colleagues treat her. Like ok y'all studied and shit and came up but that doesn't mean that she just got lucky. She put in her effort and hard work into her job, so she got recognised and promoted. I think the thing with Sarang is that she actually wants to do her job and enjoys it, while the others just do it cause they need money.

Anyway, but they're sooo cute together. Also, the OSTs. All kdramas have banger OSTs but man, this one wins for me. I love the songs and I love how the timing is accurate. I'm prolly gonna add it to my playlist.

Also, Gu Won's mom either died and noone told him how and he was lied to by his sister(power hungry bish) or she wasn't his mom at all and was fired. Or smn else idk.

I hate how Daeul's husband isn't paying attention to his wife or house. I feel like he's cheating. Or he's just ignorant asf. Plus omg i love her daughterrrrr, she's so cute and she's so right when she's supporting her mom.

Pyung-Hwa looks perfectly nice to me, but apparently she has a dark past or smn? Idk what to expect with this character tbh she's kinda confusing to me. But I do hope there are no misunderstandings between her and Ro-Un.

Anyway so far so good, I will be screaming abt kdramas here a lot so I'm rly sorry lol.

[bourbon-ontherocks]

… il était bizarre ce chapitre de PQENCEL… (as far as I’m concerned the newbie’s full name is timothée daniel paul guichard, now. also I think he has grounds to get morgane fired for sexual harassment) but jarring similarities aside, I barely have anything to say about 303, tbh? it was ok. the blorbos didn’t break me this time, I won’t need 5-10 business days to recover 😅 the most emotion I felt was when gilles expressed his hurt, moh 🥲 though roxane clearly was the star of the show this time (and I’m glad it inspired you fic-wise, hehe). I wonder when she’s gonna pull the "your colleague kissed you and you forgot to mention it?" card 😏 by the way… anyone else felt something in the air when she saved morgane’s life? no? just me? 👀

star #2 was SOFIANE 💓😍💖💘🥰 our prayers have been answered!!!!! 🫶 he managed to be snarky in a total of 2 lines. hope he comes back for much more! glad they brought bonnemain back too 😄 in a way the cast-related excitement made up for the lukewarm plot. speaking of, what’s more unlikely: a teenager channeling early 00’s energy by choosing "bledigirl" for a stage name, or the fact she didn’t figure out "princesse" was autobiographical because the name of her cousin is literally the title of the song? je veux bien qu’elle ait pas la réf à un film des années 1970 mais le coup du prénom, quoi 😭

gotta say I loved the beard running gag, lol. there’s something terribly wrong with le commandant’s face, mais quoi… 😂 (+ it has a tiny backstory! unexpected) love daphné’s inability to hide her digust. as well as her willingness to lend her new responsibilities to morgane’s scheming. AND (she was so good in this ep) "on peut mieux faire" re: women murderers… daph, never change 🤣💛 she must be so proud of their own statistics!

surprised adam was the one saying the episode title this time. ushering in a new trend, perhaps? it was entertaining to see him bear with morgane’s passive-agressivity. (now that I think about it, the tension throughout this ep probs felt surface-level because we didn’t get a glimpse into the characters’ feelings… et qu’est-ce qu’un chapitre de PQENCEL sans débrief ?) did like the phone cord thread; look at morgane letting him back into her life by stealing his charger! oui j’ai décidé que c’était symbolique. 😂 thank you for your patience and see you on thursday! 👻❣️

Oh my gosh, anon!! So let me just start by saying that I felt TOUT PAREIL the first time I watched that ep! It was even one of my least faves ever. But full disclaimer: this episode grew on me A LOT through the rewatches.

And the more I've thought about it, the more I believe that this ep isn't odd in itself, but it definitely feels so when lined up with the previous two. There's a real and quite unexplained tone shift here, which I think is tied with the whole comedy/dramedy switch and the fact that eps 1 and 2 were shot in July so probs still in the spirit of season 2 (due to the early shooting date, we can assume they were written at the same time as late S2 eps, and the writing of the rest of S3 probs resumed a couple of months later) while ep 3 inaugurates a darker mood for the season. Now let's dive into the specifics.

I wasn't joking when I said that Parce qu'entre nous predicted the season. Targeted home attack? Subsequent police protection? Banging the said protection barely two nights in? I SCREAMED (although while I'm all for Morgane getting some good time this season bc she clearly deserved it, couldn't they at least give her somebody enticing to look at? My guy Paul/Daniel/whatever his name emotes like wet bread. Ew.)(also yeah, I'm kinda bummed with the obvious lack of consent here, not in itself since it narratively and character-wise makes sense, but in the fact that the whole thing is filmed under a ~comedy angle while it would have been completely inappropriate to do so had the genders been reversed. Something something equality works both ways you know? Yikes)

Gilles expressing his hurt and preaching for forgiving to the people who hurt you has to be one of my favourite scenes in the ep and the season (don't get me started on it because I'll start to tear up and word-vomit a non-coherent rant), but I'm surprised it was the most emotion you got from ep 3? I'll get back to the other emotional scenes that I found worth noticing later though, otherwise this post is gonna be all over the place. So Gilles. GILLES, my baby, my love. The thing is, I love Morgane, but she tends to be extremely toxic to everyone around her, she uses people, she doesn't apologize, she ghosts them, she doesn't care about their feelings. And the fact that someone gets to tell her exactly that, that she HURTS people, the people who actually love her and care about her enough to get her out of jail, and the fact that of all people it's Gilles who gets to tell her that, well it made my heart swell. Because Gilles is the nicest person who has ever lived and that makes his speech way more impactful than if it had been Céline's or Adam's.

Also his words are literally the reason why Morgane finally reopens the door to Adam a little at the end of the episode, but again, I'll get to that later.

Let me just tell you that I absolutely love Roxane's arc this season and the way she no longer takes bullshit from anyone. I personally don't think that she bought Morgane's lies on who kissed who, and I do believe she already knows it was entirely Adam's initiative, although that's a personal headcanon of course. Not sure I felt any vibe between her and Morgane though but you know, I can get onboard that train pretty easily!

Now as for Sofiane, I must say I was glad he's back, and true he manages to be snarky in two lines, but my problem is that he ONLY got two lines?? Like... What was the point of calling him back just for this???? 😭 I need moar. Also Bonnemain wasn't gone, he was here in 301 if I remember correctly?

The implausible parts of the case didn't particularly hit me but also I haven't been a teenager in a looooong time now, so I didn't exactly notice the vintage vibes of bledigirl although it's quite obvious now that you pointed it out (I'm having skyblogs war flashbacks now, thank you very much 😂). And as for Sarah's name I'm not sure to see where you're heading at? Cause if it's Princess Sarah then I wouldn't have had the ref either (while I did get the Peau d'Âne one lol), but again, my teenage years are far ago.

Now Daphné. I juste LOVE how we get to see more of her in the season (not saying more but... yea) and the unexpected development of having her as the new workplace discrimination referee was a GENIUS move. The "on peut mieux faire" line has to be one of my absolute faves in the ENTIRE show (je crois qu'elle a même détrôné "excusez-moi de m'intéresser" c'est dire), and her reaction to Adam's glabre face was priceless (as was the whole shaved-his-beard thread, at least we got a consolation prize for losing beardie 🥲).

I actually never noticed that it was Morgane who'd usually say out loud the eps titles? Wasn't it Bonnemain who said Phyllobates Terribilis? Or Gilles who said 55 kilos first? To me the titles always refer to one of the clues that get Morgane to solve the puzzle but it never occurred to me she was the one saying them haha.

Mais bon en vrai on s'en fout parce que c'était juste pour introduire la partie sur Adam et... Okay.

"the tension throughout this ep probs felt surface-level because we didn’t get a glimpse into the characters’ feelings"

So this is exactly the part that grew on me with subsequent rewatches. I guess I was perhaps expecting too much, or was too used to writing myself what was happening in the blorbos' heads, to really get into what happens here on my first watch. But there's actually so much going on, blorbos-wise it is now one of my fave eps in the season!! (There's also some mildly annoying borderline ooc stuff happening but I'll get to that). Morgane is hurting so badly in this episode it's honestly heart-wrenching.

Obviously she's not going to show it eagerly, but it's visible at first in the way she flinches when Théa asks her if she's ready to work with Adam again (which also makes me wonder how much exactly Théa knows about what happened but that's a topic for another day). Then she goes full-on passive-aggressive mode with Adam, which says a lot, it all culminates in the cringiest song ever (I pasted the full lyrics in the end if you're curious), and then Adam does what??

He confronts her! Il essaye de communiquer !! Il veut crever l'abcès 🥹 And she cannot say it. She's the one who always comes up with angry punchlines but right now she's hurting so much she doesn't even have it in her to SAY IT 😭😭😭 and storms out instead. cue my first death in this episode.

BUT. She might be hurting and angry, she'll still lie to Roxane to protect his relationship. While she could very understandably retaliate by tanking it. 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 Cue my second death, obviously.

Now we're getting to the part I honestly didn't like so much, because Morgane just got out of prison, and then she escapes a murder attempt, and nobody gives a shit about it? They can be mad at her all they want, and Adam can be shocked to find Roxane at Morgane's place, what happened to "je tiens à vous" huh? I didn't write "j'ai droit à un câlin à chaque fois que je frôle la mort ?" for nothing, and also I need to check that bingo box, thank you very much 😠😭 So I get that Adam is in the quite delicate situation of "oh shit, looks like wifey and mistress are hanging out behind my back", mais franchement ça lui arracherait une molaire de demander à Morgane comment elle va ?

Biggest OOC move from him as far as I'm concerned. 🔪🔪🔪

Now...

Actually wait no, I'm still angry, give me a minute.

...

Where was I? The show sort of made up for it after that because Adam being in charge of her protection!! While he's mad at her because he's thinking she ratted him out to Roxane!! And she's mad at him because, well, you know!! She physically cannot stand to be in the same room as he is and they are forced to hang out?? And he gets it? And he tries to talk to her but then the pressure explodes? And she FINALLY says it out loud? And exposes her feelings in a clearer way than she's ever done before? Because what else putting Adam at the same level as [redacted] means but "I was in love with you too"???? Cue my third and final death right here.

And finally, for me the phone charger thread as a symbol is not a theory, it's a fact! The way they insisted on how she refuses to use it at first to not owe him anything, for her to eventually steal it after Gilles' speech about forgiveness is pretty transparent, and so is her final joke about his beard. And the way she delivers this final line? This was absolutely not what she intended to tell him. She just didn't master the courage to say out loud "I forgive you", so she settled for something much safer but the meaning remains. Cue my undefined stare at the ceiling 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Honorable mentions to:

Jérôme's burnout? How? When? I need answers 😂

Céline yelling TIMOTHÉE ?! in the precinct

The cats

THE ELEVATOR STARE 😱😱😱😱😱😱 I didn't include it to the blorbos' emotional journey because it wasn't painful but my! God! the! absolute! tension! here!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Cue my actual death

And the lyrics to Morgane's song if anyone's interested:

C'est l'histoire d'un amant Qui s'est pris pour un Don Juan T'as cru qu'il était ti-gen Parce que le gars mettait ses gants Il t'a fait nan-nan-nan Chérie tu te méprends

C'est l'histoire d'un condé Qu'a voulu jouer les BG Il s'est pris pour Superman Mais il bouffe trop de kouign amann J'ai fait miam miam miam Par ici le croque-madame

J'fais monter la mayo (x3) Pour le poulet... (suite incompréhensible)

T'as cru qu'il était gentil Parce qu'il portait un képi Mais c'était que du mépris Il t'a tej comme un débris

[roseate-felidae]

Cats lost

I got a little black kitten last night. She's flipping lost now. It was doomed from the start tbh. But Fuck!!!!

First my dad picked me up from work but wouldn't let me go home to get a cage (aunt had borrowed carrier and hadn't returned it, so needed dog cage). So I had to hold the kitten on the car journey. Before I even get to the car she's got out my arms near the home I bought from. Man did get her back. But off to a bad start.

Second shitty thing- I am not allowed her inside and had to use a large catio we decked out (temporarily till we moved). Wasn't ideal at all.

So the morning comes and I open the door and spend half an hour playing with her. Need to keep it short as work today. Think I'll give her some of that licky treat stuff. Get out safely but open the door to come back in and she's out. Into the garden, over the fence and into the woods.

Spend ages seeing if I can find her, nothing. Have to get to work so eventually have to stop (no colleague can take my shift). Left the gate open and food out. Will set a cage trap with food aswell. Nothing else can do.

Can't do nothing normally round here, was destined to fail.

Even if I do get her back, can't keep her. It's not the best scenario for her in a catio and she can get out again. Can only hope she's ok, there's no main roads or loose dogs thankfully. But it's not safe still.

Fuck sake, I know my luck's shit, but this is a new low. Sticking with my rabbits and when I'm working full time I'll have to put savings aside for health things for teeth issues. Thankfully my adults are fine.

@mekanikaltrifle @robotslenderman @themarginalthinker so yeah Thinker, just stick with the black otter bunsona on the story cameo. I swear I must be cursed or something. But definitely NOT using that catsona.

[uselessheretic]

ok so i’ve been watching this whole ed + anger discourse play out and??? it really feels like some of these people don’t know what anger looks like? or what it even is??? like yes, there is often a different kind of hurt at the source of anger, but that doesn’t mean the anger isn’t there? emotions? can coexist???

it’s very weird to me how people seem to think that if someone isn’t yelling or breaking things, they can’t be angry. you can be angry AND cold and calculated. and just bc ed has expressed anger loudly before doesn’t mean it won’t ever present differently? truly some wild takes being bandied about (esp about ep10 good golly)

anyway, i’m just a casual observer of the ofmd fandom, but i really appreciate the thought and care you put in to topics such as these, and i hope you’re taking care of yourself amidst all this drama.

yeah i don't understand the take that's like "ed expresses anger by YELLING" based off the assumption that just because we saw him yell once. again, it feels really childish? people will express anger in different ways in different situations with different degrees of how angry they are. like viewing ed as not being angry because he's not yelling is wild to me because i swear the quieter be gets the more pissed off he is. like i feel like the scene where he's choking izzy is arguably maybe the scene where he's at his most furious. i also think it's the best acted scene in the entire series tbh because of how good taika and con's expression work is. it really feels like a whole new level for taika especially acting wise like you can see the face journey he goes on. then the way his character shifts completely with just a change in body posture like i swear man fully switched genders there where suddenly he's in that pink robe and looks really fucking masc when izzy's yelling at him? OBSESSED.

but yeah i don't get the way people talk about ed like he can only feel fear or anger or happiness one at a time. especially when people focus on how he's not angry he's afraid and it's like? yeah, he is afraid! and that makes him angry! you can't be afraid as a pirate, fear isn't an emotion that gets you places, but anger? anger gets the job done.

but fr do people think someone gets one way of expressing anger their entire life and never changes? like personally, i never yell when i'm angry. i'll rant to my friends about things, but not really the same thing. i think the only time my gf saw me yell was like?? once???? under very specific circumstances. if i'm angry sometimes i'll make jokes! sometimes i'll argue with the person! if i'm mad enough i literally shake and get real quiet. most of the time if i get pissed enough i literally go take a nap like a fucking child.

people express things differently in different contexts. especially when it comes to how one expresses anger to a stranger vs a friend or colleague. anyways i love ed i want to wife him

[nopressurenostress]

Crashing: back to work

I’ve been at work for a week and the fatigue has hit quite hard. I’ve been showing a new colleague the ropes and pushed too hard. I wasn’t getting any warning signs until the last moment and then down I went on the familiar downward cycle. I want to go to the gym today but I know I need to slow down so I don’t enter burn out. Things I have learnt.

🥀I notice my warning signs better these days

🥀6 weeks off is enough to forget how to pace! I work in a school so it’s a massive change to routine!

🥀 accepting help is getting a little easier

🥀 taking responsibility and stepping in to call the shots of when to go home is getting a bit easier

🥀 the shame is lessening

The smaller warning signs that a fatigue attack (or whatever I’m meant to call it) that I don’t ignore now are :

🍄 feeling dizzy even though I’m hydrated and have eaten

🍄 waking up more tired than I usually do (I find it hard to remember to compare)

🍄 working out how physically far away things are comes to the top of my priorities

🍄 it is harder to concentrate, sit up and I walk slower and stay closer to the walls

🍄 things start to feel a lot heavier that I can normally lift with ease

🍄 I start to count the hours left in the day

🍄 I start to feel nauseous and achey - general malaise when I know I am not going down with something

Things I do to start helping myself out:

🍇 sit the fuck down when I can

🍇 not feel bad for asking people to carry stuff and open things for me (honestly all the doors are fire doors at work and it’s not great)

🍇 prioritise everything: decide what’s urgent to do and what can be delegated and what can wait - better one day now than a week because I pushed from fatigue into pain

🍇 whack out the stick - deal with the comments by just steamrollering them with other stuff or jokes or if it’s the kids and/or I cba to explain I normally say something like “my body gets more tired than my brain so I need help” - kids are actually better at taking an answer tbh

🍇 decide when I will probably be done and organise the “exit plan” - I used to push past the exhaustion point and learn the hard way and also it ended up creating more of an issue tbh. The illness being the issue - I was trying my best and was not intending to “cause” more issues by overstaying my fatigue - but I know it better now. People know what happens if I stick about - they don’t need to for it to be ok I am going. It helps somewhat. But I didn’t need to “show them proof” for it to be valid. This is a hard point.

🍇 nibble food. Drink Diet Coke for the nausea (should probs be peppermint tea but I don’t like it). Hydrate.

When I get in from a lift home I :

🎒dump everything. Do it another time - not important right now

🥤drink and snack integral - probably leave a wake of chaos but it is so much better to wake up to than hunger and thirst. Bedside table

🚰 wash face if the spoons are available

🛏️ Collapse in bed and try again another day

That’s the routine for now. Maybe one day it’ll be better - I hope so. It’s a hard job to do without fatigue. So I hope for a less demanding job one day that still gives me fulfilment. But I am so thankful for my patient coworkers who give me a lift home and keep an eye on me on the bad days. I do the best I can. I hope it shows. I hope my presence helps even on these days. Also I hope this is not a crash and I can be back up and running by the weekend. We’ll have to see.

[sainztander]

Thank you for your answer!

That you think that it won't be as bad as I think in 2023 gives me some hope!

Yeah the Horner rumours nearly took me out. Sure he will leave his team that is working for us...

I just hope Binotto is ok. It must be really hard to leave the environment that you have grown professionally for so many years, where he is still highly praised by his colleagues because the big bosses don't trust you.

Totally agree regarding Vasseur, I think about Gio's last season with them and my blood boils but we know people like to forget actual facts to fit their narratives.

And your last sentence is what worries me the most. If all goes to shit, the team will not only lose the opportunity to win but also the people that are supposed to bring Ferrari back to it's greater days.

I guess we will have to wait and read thousand more rumours until we get more official news and then pray it somehow works.

Yeah I was just talking about it with my brother and he said it best: if he resigned now, it either means the car development is done already or. they have no idea what to do. Me, being an optimistic delulu, choose to believe the first option where everything will be alright because Binotto left us with a rocketship 😁

It is pretty sad tbh. Like it was his team!! He's been with them for almost 30 years!! And for it to end like this...... I mean, he will be alright, every team will make offers now. But still...

We still don't know about Vasseur but like SORRY if I'd rather keep Binotto instead of the TP of a team that made a total of 4 (FOUR) points in 13 (THIRTEEN) races ! The same TP who already had rows with an FDA driver (who's also Ferrari's third driver !) !

Yeah well, whatever, now it's done, it is what it is. It's not the first time a team ever changed TPs, it's not like it's actually a catastrophe... But you know. Could have done better wit less drama and more stability. Could have done better if I knew I could trust John Elkann too 😔 Of course I hope it will all be sorted out in the best way..... So let's see 🤞

[pendragaryen]

I'm wishing you a happy new years eve, dear fam, friends and followers- and of course only the best for the upcoming new year 2022! 2022 already... Wtf... The last year seems to me almost like a blur tbh...

I've read my post from last year's NYE and I almost had to laugh-cry or something like that... The hope and the optimism was almost unmatched. What has changed, so that I'll probably be unable to spread much of this positivity today then (even if I desperately wanted to)?

Let's have a look ok?

So, first, and on the brightest note, there's to mention that my family is still healthy, even after almost 2 years of a worldwide pandemic. Even the condition of my father's health had gotten better after the heart attack on christmas eve last year. I cannot stress enough how important these things are to me. Other wishes... had shrunken to almost nothing within the last years. Other things grow much more important to me. Small things. Like a visit of my mom or my sister here and there, seeing my best friend, and if it's just once every three or four months... Talking with friends and colleagues via social media... Decorating my flat and rearranging my furniture... Treating myself and my little hammy with small gifts... The nearby nature and photographing it... Watching all my favourite shows or movies (I'm sooo looking forward to watch Bob's new show Love Me! And the movie, that Beliza is starring in!🧡)... Homeoffice... Scented candles... Coffee... Food...

On the other hand tho it's more than difficult to stay positive if nothing seems to have changed since last year concerning the pandemic. Not really. I see the small steps my government takes in the right directions (more vaccine for example...), but if there's so many people (almost 30 % in my country) who still don't want to cooperate and get vaccinated, I can see us all spiraling down into the next lockdown on a frequent basis... There will always be new mutations of that damn virus. This will never really end. I just really hope that they will be able to create a medication (in combination with vaccinations for example) that can help us to prepare ourselves for that. I heard there's a medication already in the making and ordered. But whether it really helps ALL people? I don't know... I know we're all trying our best to stay positive (more or less) but I'm tired... Gods I'm so so tired... And I do not even start again about my very own mental health condition... no... It would lead to nothing here. Just know that despite the fact that I'm so tired... I'm still here trying, working on myself. It seems to get harder with each passing day though.

I am an introvert. So I was alone most of my time even BEFORE Covid-19, and it was okay for me then. But this situation now... It truly makes it much worse. And I know it's not only me who silently suffers that way. But to know that doesn't help much. There are better days, when I try to remind myself of all the good and small and precious things I mentioned above. And it works. But there are also the "dog days", when it's even hard for me to get up in the morning...

So.. sorry if on this fine new years eve I'm in trouble finding the proper words to send you optimistic thoughts. I have cero expectations for the new year this time. Therefore I can only be positively surprised if things will turn out well in the end, right?

The only thing that I have planned for next year is (like in 2020 and in 2021 as well) my trip to Paris in April and to attend the Spacewalkers Convention, that had been postponed... what was it? 3 times? Or was it already 4 times? I have lost count... And I almost lost my eagerness to go too. This is... frustrating. I blame the pandemic as well as a certain shitheaded showrunner for this, for "killing my mood". It's just me and my way of thinking, I know. I shouldn't let myself be influenced by such things. But as I said, I am getting more and more tired... and so it's really difficult to stay strong and keep up the ability to be... euphoric. And not only in regards to the plans I mentioned above.

However... Let's see what the new year will bring us. We haven't much of a choice, have we? So let's dive head first into it. For all its flaws... earth is really beautiful... It should be our first priority to keep it alive and well. If we try to treat our environment better, I'm sure we would heal some major diseases of mankind itself. And at long last.. maybe even that damn virus.

But despite my own thoughts and state of mind: Of course I'm thinking of you guys and wishing you all the best, lots of health and love and everything you wish for yourself! May it all come true. And may the new year surprise me/us in the best possible way. *whispers* Please...

See you on the other side! Thanks for bearing with me. Thanks for existing. I love you, dear fam.😘🍀🍾🥂🕯

Tagging just a few people, but please note, that my wishes go out to each and every member of the fam🤗 @togetherkru @natassakar @geekyogicheese @bellamyblake @carrieeve @ninappon @roguetwelve @infp-with-all-the-feelings @immortalpramheda @poppykru @kateemcintyre @lee-em-dee @heartbellamy @jeanie205 And a special thought from me to @merlination and @toshihakari

[thedreadvampy]

I had a conversation with my (quite nervous and new to the field) colleague where it became increasingly clear his first and foremost concern is Is This What Our Boss Is Expecting Me To Produce and I feel like. I was quite rude.

like he's been put in charge of this project and he's really quiet and shy and so I very much don't want to back seat drive the project and make him feel like I don't trust him to handle it or like I'm talking down to him but I'm also like

buddy

who cares what milestones our boss is expecting us to hit in what order. what matters is that we meet our target in the end.

like I've been asked to storyboard a video and I was like 'yeah so heads up I CAN storyboard it but I think for previous videos I've done XYZ and not really gone through a formal storyboard so it's about what's gonna work for you' and he's like 'oh but I think our boss is probably expecting a storyboard that looks like this and here are all the templates I've found and I think she'll want to see that we've done this this and this work' and I'm like. in the nicest possible way she doesn't care what we do, she cares that we make a video that communicates the point well and attractively and that she has plenty of opportunity to have input on.

sometimes I suddenly realise that I'm actually Very Confident, is the thing. Like I think of myself as being quite nervous but tbh I am very comfortable telling my boss 'i don't think that will work, let's do this' because I know my work is good and that I can follow through with it. and it really throws me to be reminded that other people, who are just as capable as me, do not know they're allowed to do that.

my mum raised me to be a bolshy bitch who doesn't believe in authority and that's like 50% of why I'm good at my job bc I don't. remember that I'm supposed to be working in a structured way and if it doesn't seem like the most sensible way for me to do things I will just call my boss up and go 'ok I'm doing this this way. Hope that's ok. The other way seemed dumb. Bye!'

idk how I get away with that but I do. I'm white, highly educated and middle class, that probably helps. also. I'm a loose cannon but I get results, as they say.

[foilfreak]

Nobody asked for this, but I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately so I’ve decided to post about it in the hopes that my brain will stop thinking about it if i write my thoughts out, or at the very least spit them out onto a tumblr post. So here’s a nowhere-near-comprehensive list of all the heroes who I think should be friends and why, in no particular order:

1. Iaian and Genos. I’ve talked about them before but I just think that they’d get along really well for some reason. They’re both fairly close in age and seem somewhat similar in personality and disposition so i think, given some time and heavy avoidance of the topic of whose master is superior, a good strong friendship could blossom between these two disciples, a friendship that gives them the opportunity to relax, let loose, and actually have fun in ways they wouldn’t normally because theyre usually too busy being responsible heroes and saving cities and innocent civilians from certain death and destruction. Idk I just want them to be best friends who secretly gossip and talk shit about other heroes over Mario Kart and a bottle of Absolute, is that so much to ask? Can Genos have a friend of his own for once plz?

2. Tanktop Master and Superalloy Darkshine. A friendship between these two gym rats would radiate such chaotic bro energy that i don’t think ppl would physically be able to handle the combined amount of protein powder and boiled chicken that must be seeping from these guys’ pore. That being said however, if I don’t see at least 1 chapter of them acting like total fucking morons together like ive seen in a few fics now, I will be flying to Japan to personally fistfight ONE and Murata.

3. Golden Ball and Child Emperor. This one comes with a few headcanons Ive created about Golden Ball so if u don’t see it I don’t blame u, but basically the idea is that Golden Ball is a pretty smart guy, he got like a masters degree in chemical engineering or something before becoming a hero, so Golden Ball and Child Emperor probably met at some science convention and got to know each other by talking about various scientific theories and whatever shit they happen to be working on at that time. Child Emperor will occasionally ask Golden Ball to guest lecture for one of his classes. Golden Ball’s probably asked child emperor to read over the thesis or research paper he’s working on and give suggestions. They’re fellow colleagues who share more in common than just being heroes and child emperor probably enjoys talking to an adult who actually has a brain cell or two on hand at any given moment.

4. Death Gatling and Smile Man. Gatling looks like he could use a friend looking out for him (both in hero work and just in general) and Smile Man seems like a really nice and cool guy, idk there’s just something I like about him and I think he’d be a good friend to someone like Death Gatling. I’d certainly be Smile Man’s friend, if nothing else!!!

5. Chain’n’toad and Mumen Rider. I liked seeing them work together and show concern for each other when they fought that lizard monster in the OVA, I think they’d be good friends and get along outside of work too!

6. Captain Mizuki and Fubuki. Fubuki needs a girl-friend who doesn’t work for her and Captain Mizuki seems like the kind of lady who’d have a positive impact on Fubuki if they ever did become friends.

7. Captain Mizuki and Lily. Girl alliance.

8. Captain Mizuki, Fubuki, and Lily. Ultimate Girl Alliance!

9. Captain Mizuki, Fubuki, Lily, and Okamaitachi. ULTRA MEGA SUPREME GIRL ALLIANCE!!!!!!!

10. Tatsumaki and King. Tbh I want them to fuck, but that’s a post for another day, I do however think that a friendship between the two of them would be beneficial for much the same reason as a relationship between them would work out, just minus the romantic elements. They both have a decent amount of respect for each other and I think they’d both encourage the other to improve themselves and become better people/heroes, which they actually would because you’re a hell of a lot more likely to take criticism from someone if you respect their opinion and see the validity in their criticisms/suggestions. Tatsumaki would force King to actually leave his house and go do stuff with her and King would force tatsumaki to chill the fuck out and not yeet ppl into walls... maybe.

11. Amai Mask and Zombieman. More or less the same deal as Tatsumaki and King except there’s an extra 5 months at the beginning of their “friendship” that consists almost entirely of just straight up hate fucking. They’d be friends with benefits if they stayed friends tho.

12. Atomic Samurai and Bomb. Kamikaze is friends with Bang therefor he’s friends with Bomb too, shut up

13. Spring Mustachio and Bushidrill. I want to see them get drunk together, i think that would be quite fun

14. Snek and Saitama. I want Snek to join the Saitama group and I want him to be PISSED about it.

15. Snek and Lightnight Max. On a slightly more serious note, I do think these guys would make good friends, if only because of their love for martial arts.

16. Pig God and All my love and affection. He just deserves it ok, idk what else to say.

And thats about all i can think of for right now, but ill be sure to come back with a part 2 if i can think of anything. Let me know what u think. Further suggestions are highly encouraged!

[pro-bee]

Ignorance ain’t bliss

One very tired senior agent slumps on the edge of his desk. Two former colleagues narrow their eyes at a commotion in the distance, stalking their prey across the bullpen.

“… What.”

McGee’s audience snorts in response.

“They’re doing it.”

(Evidently, once a fratboy, always a fratboy.)

“Who— you mean Bishop and Torres? No way. Just because you two couldn’t help yourselves doesn’t mean everyone else sleeps with their partner.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, Ziva.”

“Eh, you’re right.”

“Elementary, my dear McWatson. They demonstrate all the classic signs. Dilated pupils. Rapid breathing. Increased agitation. The charge of words unspoken hanging in the air…”

“You got all that from spending five minutes with them?”

“These keen observational skills don’t disappear just because I now live a life of leisure. Also, Ziva saw them all up in each other’s business in the parking lot until they realized they were being watched and jumped ten feet away from each other.”

Ziva snorts again, her gaze still fixed upon the exhibits in question in heated discussion across the room.

“What, you’re in on this too now? Has he really corrupted you that much?”

“I am sorry, McGee, but I know what I saw. And it was definitely it.”

“Unbelievable… I thought you guys were here to help solve a case, not gossip about my coworkers’ love lives, about which I am blissfully ignorant. You hear that? BLISSFULLY.”

“Oh, get. over. yourself., McHaughty. As if you didn’t write an entire book about your coworkers doing the horizontal mambo.” 

“FOR THE LAST TIME IT WASN’T ABOUT YOU GUYS.”

Tony chortles. Honest-to-God chortles. “Yeah, OK.” 

“I’m not doing this. I have actual work to do, like a grownup.”

“All work and no play make Tim a cranky probie-no-more.”

Muffled bickering appears to prove a point he hoped to ignore indefinitely. His longtime friends’ pointed stares and raised eyebrows proclaiming See? break the last of his resolve.

“I’m leaving.”

And with that, Tony and Ziva are left alone on their old stomping grounds, certainly older, but unlikely any wiser.

“Kinda makes you miss it, right?”

“Hmm. It definitely had its moments.”

“Moments, huh? I seem to recall some of those moments being rather fun.”

The chuckle she gives in response still makes him weak in the knees, all these years later. He will spend the rest of his life trying to hear that sound every day.

“Yes, they were. I like having that kind of fun better these days, though.”

“Oh real-ly?”

“Yes. So much more convenient.”

“Is that all I am to you?”

“Well…”

She grins in jest, and bumps his shoulder with hers. Old friends, indeed.

“I’m glad he finally did something about it though. It was painful watching them last time.”

“Aw, look at my fearless warrior turned matchmaker.”

“Someone had to do it. God, can you imagine if they waited as long as we did?”

“Well, they’re still sneaking around, so don’t pick out china patterns just yet.” 

She doesn’t throw the ball back in his court, and instead seems to be processing this latest scene a mile a minute.

“Ziva, what are you thinking?”

“Nothing…”

“Whatever you do—?

“Don’t?” She’s dares him to challenge her.

“Nah, loop me in, I haven’t messed with anyone in a long time and Bishop’s due for some payback...”

-----

Disclaimer: I haven’t watched this show in ages, I don’t know what’s going on with Bishop and Torres, I’m just guessing based on how y’all freak out on my dash. TBH don’t care if I’m wrong.

I blame @indestinatus and @delicatefalice for putting this back in my orbit tonight. I AM NOT DOING THIS AGAIN DO YOU HEAR ME? [narrator: she totally did this again.] Also tagging @coffeedepablo because I feel very badly that I never finished my fic lmao so this is a peace offering ficlet.

[terubakudan]

Hi.

I'm alive. xD

How's everyone been? I hope that you guys have been doing ok~

Hoo boy...xD

Life has been...interesting for me I guess.

So for the obligatory life update from moi who while very introverted does love to talk:

My absence since September or so (?) of course is due to work, and let me tell you, boy xD WORK. xD I totally underestimated the stress that comes from it, although it is my first ever job so I'm still very much green on a lot of things, but the job that I do is to say...here in Taiwan we use the term " 爆肝" (bào gān), literally meaning "explode liver" xD Wow that actually sounds so morbid in English xD But it is used to say that something is so extremely tiring (that you have to sacrifice your liver for it), and boy it really is.

The company that I work for is known for having a lot of people come and go, and as of recently one of my colleagues will be leaving too on Monday. Ahh...it's that kind of job where I do admit while it does pay well, the things you give in exchange are a lot: your time, your health, your sleep, your sanity, etc. Honestly, there have been times where I seriously just wanted to resign too, but more on that later ^^" Maybe some of you guys have heard how rigid the education system here is in Taiwan, like kids literally have zero time to develop hobbies or make friends and that, well the work culture is like that but up to eleven. xD

Hm, now that I think about it, my profile pic still applies today hahaha

The work is already something that is super stressful, and don't get me wrong, but while most of my colleagues are nice, and I know I shouldn't be expecting so much out of people but I do have to say that social norms (?) here in Taiwan still confuse me today or I sometimes really just can't "get used to it" as they say. Take for example my colleague who's leaving on Monday, she treated our group to drinks (don't get the wrong idea, not alcohol xD but this!)

And I don't know how it is in other countries, but I believe that it's usually the boss who treats the person who is leaving? ^^" Mom calls it "despedida" or coworkers would even throw a farewell party for the one who is leaving. And the people here can be so, so passive and socially inept. And I thought I was socially inept. I'm not saying that I'm a social butterfly, but I really think that there are some aspects of Taiwanese culture which tbh really suck. Hear me out, maybe it's the company culture, but I've been in Taiwan for at least 6+years, and after a lot of observing and personal experience, Taiwanese can be quite lacking in the social department. ^^" When they're nice, they are truly very nice and very willing to help, but it's like, as I said "passive", and there are some aspects that are normal here but I believe most people would find downright rude or ridiculous. Like my colleague who treated us to drinks, and mind you I was the only one who volunteered to help her carry it up. And the people didn't even bother getting it themselves, we literally had to give those to them.

It's something unfortunately...very Asian. xD You know, to be subservient, and that. But I still think that the person who has the obligation to treat should be the boss. A boss has a lot of responsibilities, but in the end you're a leader, you're supposed to look after your staff.

Even someone at Mom's company left recently, and mind you guys, he was there for more than 25 years and didn't even get a fucking plaque. Sorry language xD. The boss was cold to him, maybe they didn't get along on the best of terms but Mom's coworker was someone who contributed a lot to keeping that company afloat, that guy deserved more and at least something to recognize him by. Whereas while my colleague was here for just 3 years, I feel that our other coworkers should have at least been more I don't know..."feeling"? xD Especially the ones who have known her for those 3 years.

We don't even take our masks off for the farewell pictures...QAQ like wth, I know Covid and that, but surely taking it off temporarily for something that you will keep as a memory is not asking too much? It's like, going to finally see your favorite band live and not taking a single photo of Kyo in the flesh that you can keep forever. Ok I know how strict Japanese are when it comes to photos and recording but c'mon guys..the chance that you get to see them live is something that may only come once.

*sigh* Anyway, aside from us staff being expected to be subservient and that, I've had people be rude to me too for the most stupid of reasons. If there is something that I'm super grateful for growing up in the Philippines is that I'm a much more flexible person, and I'm much more in touch with my feelings xD The people here are too bookish (not in the good way) and really, really, really don't know how to think out of the box, as Dad always told me, there really is no one right way to do things. And because they're so rigid, they often disrespect other people's opinions, and or think their's is the only way to go. I mean that even when you do make a objective or reasonable point, they would just "Ok anyway as I was saying-" They seriously don't know how to respect other's peoples' knowledge on things.

Also, Taiwanese humor is just not funny. xD It's to say...childish. xD And their concept of other cultures can be simply cringe...

I did get my friend to watch Mean Girls, and I had to explain that when Tina Fey addressed the students as "bitches" it wasn't supposed to be an insult, and she still couldn't get it xD. The people here even think that Halloween is still all about ghouls and that when in reality:

Mom even has a good rapport with a customer because Mom has always been very good at making jokes and despite never being to the US I daresay knows even more about American culture than Americans who actually live there xD No, really. You would not want to go against my Mom in Jeopardy!. xD

One of my other colleagues who studied in the US did ask me too if I thought Taiwan was very insular, I wanted to be honest but at work unfortunately you can't be 100% honest QQ Though looking back, I think he would have agreed with what I thought since he did get to experience life in another culture for a while.

Sorry for the rant guys but ah xD Taiwan is a lovely country but there are some aspects which really could be better.

Ok, so...if I dislike my job so much why don't I just quit xD Well...in other news our family has finally been able to buy a house!! It's an old one but it's spacious and the interior design was done with taste. So yeah, I have a housing loan, and unfortunately for the time being that requires me to stay at my job for a while xD Tbh I'm not going to stay forever because it's really too much work, it seeps into your weekends and guys, I still want to have a life. xD And in the end, it's going to give experience which is invaluable and something that I don't have to return to them.

Okok enough about work ah-

You guys have no idea how much I've missed being here and just being part of fandoms and all that QQ Dear me whenever I do get those rare real breaks (without having to stare at my work laptop for 10+hours) and I've dealt with chores and stuff, seeing things that I love and even getting into new things just gives such an UwU feeling xD

Like Dir is coming out with a new album PHALARIS and Kyo and Yukihiro from L'arc formed Petit Brabanchon..I hope I'm spelling that right xD And I've been listening to more music, still mainly of the Japanese band kind, but guys Japanese music (anime ops included) is just so darn good. When the Gazette came out with their 20th anniversary photo, I died xD

The double H stitches!! QQ Black lipstick, suits, just *chef's kiss*

And I've been meaning to watch Demon Slayer for a while now, I think that I'm really going to like it and Ufotable's animation is really something else. And I've had "Gurenge" and "Zankyou Sanka" stuck in my head for ages xD I haven't even watched it yet and Sanemi is already my husbando xD And SaneGiyuu my OTP <3

I'm honestly surprised that I still got a lot of notes from you guys, even though I don't really contribute much of personally created content to the fandom, still, thank you :) I'm pretty sure I have a lot of messages to get back to and people to get back to ^^" and while I can't promise I will reply to each and every one, do now that I do read whatever messages and notes I receive, again thanks!!

This weekend is one of those rare breaks where I finally have the energy to go on Tumblr again xD I miss the fangirling, I miss the fanart, even the memes xD The good news is hopefully I'll have more time to be on here because work has more or less come to its off season, though I still have a tax report to submit ha-but something I can work at my own pace. Let's just say I work in auditing, and you guys should really see a movie called "Stranger than Fiction", still so underrated. I remember watching it the first time and crying xD I have re-watched it several times and even most recently again, and it's still one of my absolute favorite movies.

Well, that's it from me for now, going to get some much needed shuteye, never have I appreciated sleep so much before xD Thanks for reading. :)