#if you ever bought a planet in the past... watch this space

[mathysphere]

2018 vs 2021. I do miss the custom symbols sometimes-- the early ones were all drawn by me, and I'd try and color-coordinate them (a leaf for light greens, and a pine tree shape for dark, the heart was always pink and the rose always red, etc). WinStitch has a decent symbol library, though, and they just added support for custom symbol sets, so if I set myself to fontmaking the past could return to the present!

I'm doin a refresh of some of my old patterns (the pride flag planets!), and boy howdy, is there a difference between the 2018 PDFs and the 2021 ones

[chvoswxtch]

Congrats on 2k!

Could I please have a margarita with Billy Russo, based on this quote:

“I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”

-TWENTY LOVE POEMS AND A SONG OF DESPAIR

By Pable Neruda

hi nonnie!

so I read this poem and it was not only absolutely breathtakingly beautiful, but it also reminded me so much of billy. especially this line:

how you must have suffered getting accustomed to me, my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.

like tell me that's not billy russo?? anyway, thank you so much for showing me that beautiful poem, & for stopping by the bar! 🥂

for those of you interested in reading the poem, you can find it here!

blurb below the cut

everyday you play

i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees 

Sometimes Billy just liked to sit and watch you. His laptop was open in front of him, and there was a mess of papers strewn across the expansive dining room table, but his attention was solely on you. 

He couldn’t remember what his life was like before he met you. Even though his penthouse was completely quiet, it was comfortable. He could faintly remember the ringing of silence in his ears from before, when it was just him in his glass palace. He remembers it being colder without the basket of blankets beside the couch and the fuzzy slippers constantly adorning your feet. You were always cold, and you liked that he was always warm. How did he sleep without the icy touch of your fingers seeking out his body’s heat in the middle of the night? 

He couldn’t remember what the place smelled like without the lingering aroma of your favorite treats escaping the kitchen to filter throughout the rest of the space. You were the first one to even use the expensive kitchen appliances he had insisted on having when moving in. The walls were covered in candid photos of the two of you instead of meaningless art that had a high price tag. The carefully crafted castle he bought became a home, a real home with you in it.

The first one he ever had.

Billy stared at you in wonder as you sat curled up on the couch with your favorite blanket, occasionally sipping at the coffee you’d made in the mug he’d gotten you last Christmas, eyes never wandering past the pages you devoured in front of you. Billy was a solitary creature by nature, but you craved physical touch and affection. You had entered a silent compromise with him, allowing him space as you chose a spot to nestle in a comfortable distance away. You never voiced how much you needed to be close to him, but your presence was consistently in whatever room he was in, and he found himself going through withdrawals if he ever had to leave you for an extended period of time.

What he did to deserve you, he wasn’t sure. How he managed to keep you around was certainly a goddamn mystery to him. He wasn’t always so kind to you. Sometimes his savage temper got the best of him. He could be cold and selfish. Sometimes he cared more about his name and the reputation he carefully stitched to it than anything else; a reputation that had no doubt been whispered about to you. You never asked him much about his past, and he never voluntarily confessed his sins. He wondered how much of it you believed, and what you would think of him if you knew that the real truth was so much worse.

Maybe all of the planets and stars aligned at just the right time. Maybe the universe was finally working in his favor after dealing him suit after suit of a losing hand that he had no choice but to manipulate. Maybe you were an angel sent by a God he didn’t believe in to teach him about redemption and faith.

Billy still doesn’t know how you did it. You appeared in his sky one night like a supernova, entrancing him with your kaleidoscope of luminous colors, and he couldn’t escape the gravity that pulled him to you. Somewhere along the way, you slipped past the steel walls he braced himself behind, melted the solid ice cage that encapsulated his heart, and freed the real Billy he kept hidden safely inside.

You made him softer, warmer, gentler. You made him fall in love with you despite the fight he initially put up, waiting patiently for him to wear himself out until he gave into the sanctuary of your arms. Every delicate touch, sweet nothing dripped into his ear, promise of loyalty, and glimpse of heaven you showed him within your body only made him fall even harder.

Billy was enamored with you. He worshiped you. He showered you in the only affection he knew how to show with the finest treasures he could find. Billy was confused initially when you refused the luxurious gifts, and he had trouble comprehending that the only gifts you wanted from him were his love and time. But he had since learned exactly what kind of offerings you preferred, and he was nothing if not eager to lay himself at your altar. 

Closing his laptop shut quietly, Billy rose from his seat and carefully stalked over towards you silently, his fingers twitching at his sides in anticipation of feeling the softness of your skin. Coming to a stop right behind the couch, he wrapped his hand gently around your throat to pull your head backwards, staring down into your surprised eyes with the ghost of a smirk on his mouth before he bent down to capture your lips. 

“Think you should take a break from readin’, doll. I got somethin’ better in mind we can do together.”

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

And this is just a bonus one I thought of but Grace and 24 Capitalism 👁️👁️

Story is also posted on ao3!

(tw capitalism, mentions of colonialism, mentions of racism/speciesism, trauma, mentions of cigarettes/alcohol, addiction, grief, past canonical character death, identity issues, implied dehumanization, hallucinations, unreality)

It's not as if they have a problem with expense. Fuck no, of course not. They can find the cash for their fucking war machines, their stupid goddamn spaceships, their love children born on a planet where they'll never be able to breathe the air. The cash for their guns and explosives, for their dozers rolling over the ground, for pressed suits and cheery propaganda vids and everything single one of the politicians in their pockets.

And oh, they've got the money for her as well, Grace knows all about it, a special set of funds to keep their little labcoat safely in line. The killing ground school, the botany book with a Na'vi face on the cover cause it's all just wildlife, doc, remember that, the cigarettes to keep her strung out and numb, the alcohol when that's not enough.

Never enough, not for them, sure as shit not for her. Her hands shake, she's fiddling, muttering, things slipping through her hands. Focus, Augustine, fucking focus. She's only got so many cigarettes, the 3D printers only work so well (as well as they're supposed to, heh). If Max is hiding them again she's going to fucking--

Cash. Right. Money, profit, power. Expense. They'll make a body, grow it in a tank like a promise, but if shit goes down, a bloody murder on a planet she can barely remember, happening six years and a million lightyears and last week ago--well, they can't take the fucking loss, oh no, they're going to stuff in some random jackass marine, pulled off one conveyor belt and shoved onto another.

Like it's that simple. Like it's all just meat, isn't it, they all are, deep blue company logos hanging heavy over her skin, sinking into her bones until she feels it even when she's physically out of the link. Jake Sully shrugging into his brother's skin and grinning at her, Jake Sully with Quaritch's brand stamped onto his soul, Jake fucking Sully coming out of the Soul Drive upload room with jagged, defiant eyes.

There are some things that cannot be bought, Mo'at says, her hand wrapped around Grace's throat. Not enough to choke, not enough to hurt, just enough to make the point, to prove that tonight, Grace was not worth the suffocation. I had thought you learned this, if nothing else.

In a way, the rejection had been a relief. No need to try and twist everything into a knot trying to justify the application into a knot, no excuse to get shot in the head months down the line for trying to grow a rogue body on company resources. None of Sylwanin's DNA, so no watching her grow in the tank that would be Sully's, no waiting to see whatever would be left if you hooked an empty Avatar into the Tree of Souls, if you'd get something like a return or nothing, nothing, nothing...

No breath. No life. No meat, or at least not enough of it to go around, not enough bodies to go around. Just cold, hard cash and an ache in the pit of her stomach as she scratches meaninglessly, thoughtlessly, because where the hell are her cigarettes. Where the hell are her--

A hand on her shoulder and she yelps, something undoubtedly expensive slipping through her fingers and clattering to the floor.

"Jesus, Marine," she snaps, because it's Sully, of course it's Sully, standing there with a stupid look on his face and hair slipping out of his braid. Grace shoves him off with a huff. "Personal space, remember?"

She turns back to her work, eyes narrowed. A stack of bundles...shells? Grace frowns. When had she been collecting shells?

"I don't suppose you know what happened to my cigarettes," she mutters, glancing up at Sully. He's still standing there, stiller than she's ever seen him, wearing an expression she can't quite read.

"Marine?" Grace waves her hand in front of his face, but he doesn't respond. "You read me?"

He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything there's another voice, young, feminine. "Kiri?"

Grace turns her head, frowning. There's a Reef Na'vi girl walking towards them, wearing Metkayina garb–Metkayina? When had the Metkayina been visiting the Omatikaya?

"Kiri?" the girl asks, looking worried--looking at Grace. She takes a step forward and Grace automatically takes a step back, feeling something skid under her foot (sand, not soil, where's the soil, where's the ground) and she falls with a curse, Sully yelping as he lunges to catch her.

"Easy," he says, but his hands are shaking. "Easy. Fuck. Okay." She can feel his pulse pounding, she can feel his panic gathering, she can feel the world moving and shuddering around her, she can feel everything, and she knows that--she knows--

"Reya, go get my mom and dad," Sully says, his voice taut, and there's the slap of feet against sand as the Metkayina girl runs. The slap of feet, and the thudding of waves, the howling of wind in the trees. Blood grubbing as Sylwanin heaves for air, as Tom Sully chokes out, as Neteyam--

--Neteyam--

Not enough bodies to go around. Not enough bodies, too expensive to look back, too much.

"Kiri." Sully's got his hands on her face, cool against her skin. Five fingers, strong and callused, resting lightly around the corners of her eyes. "You gotta breathe, Kir."

She can't. She's choking, she's choking on her first cigarette, she's choking on her own blood, she's choking on every lie she's ever swallowed with eyes sewn shut. She's choking on Sully's hand wrapped around her throat like a bad dream, like a memory.

"I've got you," he whispers, pulling her close. "You're not leaving us, Kir."

Kir. Kiri. Little atokirina. Little miracle, little secret, little liar, little ghost…

Over his shoulder she can see Tom Sully and Sylwanin (only it's not them, she knows this, she knows this just enough to wish she didn't) running her way. They're shadows, running, looking for the blood stolen from their veins; they're shadows, running, come to make sure she pays every single of her debts.

[manleycollins]

Journal Entry #76 - Happy Halloween…Letters of Presentment…Same Thing or Process, but Different Version to Challenge Culture that You Will Not Ever Do That Again for the Rest of Your Life or Career.

JOURNAL ENTRY #76 Name: Manley M Collins Social Security Number: 5 7 9 – * * – 6 5 4 1 Date of Birth: 06/21 Place of Birth: Washington, District of Columbia Country of Birth: United States of America Date: October 24, 2023

TOPIC: Happy Halloween…Letters of Presentment…Same Thing or Process, but Different Version to Challenge Culture that You Will Not Ever Do That Again for the Rest of Your Life or Career.

NAACP Membership renewed after decades.

Street Money Donations Massachusetts General Hospital Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. Boston Public Library NAACP

Had a fantastic time at Boston's Veg Food Fest. I sampled Jack Fruit and Kombucha for the first time. I saw the Reggie Lewis Indoor Track. Go Vegetarian or Vegan.

I purchased so far two 2024 Paris Olympics Athletics Event tickets to watch my race 200m and other sprint events. I made 1 out of 3 hotel reservations for Paris, France. I am awaiting the results from my volunteer application. I also sent my resume for employment, but got rejected probably because I do not have a legal right to work there.

I received my Federal Government tax refund and bought my Comfort+ AirFrance plane ticket from Boston, Massachusetts to Paris, France. I researched registration with the United States Embassy in France.

I had my reservations booked well in advance for South Carolina State University homecoming in Orangeburg, South Carolina with lodging at Fairfield Inn and Suites in Santee, South Carolina, and car with Enterprise. I also was able to reserve a spot with Bulldogs on the Run.

Had an unexpected good time running into the 15th Anniversary of Boston Book Fair. I did not purchase any books, but it felt good being amongst all types of writers and readers.

I got PUBLISHED in my first peer-reviewed academic journal. Journal of Business, Economics, and Technology, Spring 2023, Volume 26, Number 1.

I got my certification in AFAA Kickboxing.

Applause To McDonald's McRewards on National Cheeseburger Day. I have not had a double cheeseburger in decades. It was for $0.50. I had to cheat. Congratulations to McDonald's for the store traffic today – everyone in the house, kids, teens, young adults, adults, seniors – whew.

My Old Self - Office Work or White Collar positions still alive and well. Just have to pay upfront to return to the past and we interdependently agree on our terms. Welcome to the headquarters of Collins Incorporated.

Fall, Winter, Spring Season sessions are in. I told you Life's A Party. Here is one beginning. For in-person class, be in my geographical area. For virtual class, just have Zoom, FaceBook, or YouTube. I had my first Zumba class in September 2023 and had my second Zumba class in October.

I renewed my NASM AFAA certification for another two years so the expiration is 12/16/2025.

I signed up for subscriptions or accounts and email newsletters of Life Fitness, Rogue Fitness, Spinning, Think With Google, Microsoft Advertising, and Google Ads, etc.

I realize Apple drops the backups of iPhone and iPod Touch after a certain period of time.

United States Department of Navy and United States Department of Justice got my tort claim forms and responded. However, due to the span of time, they told me to file in federal court to sue. I already did that long time ago. I sent them the copy of one case for review. However, just like before no accountability about the harm done to me.

I left Beacon Hill Athletic Clubs and joined GymIt. GymIt is a healthworks brand of gym. I only have one location and reduced workout to 90 minutes with the annual membership; however, I still have Planet Fitness 2,000+ locations. I rented to storage lockers at GymIt, which are half the size and space of Beacon Hill Athletic Clubs.

I am filling out plenty of surveys with Google Rewards, Massachusetts General Hospital, AllofUs Research, Boston Medical Center, McDonald's, CVS, Walgreens, Walmart, TruHearing, BlueCross BlueShield, etc.

I have a job offer, but do not have job offer with New York Sports Club. We are onboarding, but with plenty of hiccups.

I lost USB number two so I purchased two as a replacement along with the use of Google Drive.

I researched for the Massachusetts License to Carry a gun application and the requirements.

I did my first letters of presentment to the City of Boston and Commonwealth of Massachusetts regarding SplitSpot and Pine Street Inn.

Urbanity Dance and I were arguing it out regarding rental room reservations, but life for some odd reason did not want me to make it for my appointment. Boston Dance Studio accommodated my Zumba classes and they are uploaded on zumba. com.

I did my first letter of demand to Progressive in regards to me being hit by an SUV.

Some of the apartment complexes I applied to and on the waiting list requested updates.

I submitted my returns of service and service of process on four (4) out of five (5) cases before my personal vacation to South Carolina.

I am frustrated that the BlueCross BlueShield Medicare Advantage HMO plan is not a dental plan nor have dental benefits.

I received my Social Law Library membership invoice for the next year. I need the membership, but it is not in my budget currently.

I subscribed to Apple Storage Plan, Google One Storage Plan, YouTube Music, Google Nest Home plan, AT&T ActiveArmor

CVS Pharmacy knows how to move products with 15%, 20%, 25%, 30%, and 40% off products. They had me in the store for every coupon.

I tried traditional marketing of my Zumba classes in a variety of places.

I retrieved Washington, DC Chamber of Commerce and Boston Chamber of Commerce applications for possible future use of networking.

Extra Space Storage took over Life Storage so I had a higher bill and loss of amenities, such as the restroom and business conference room. I have to punch in everytime to enter the building. The registration with the app was painless. The customer service was good to honor previous monthly payment before rent increase.

I got an unexpected message from Massachusetts General Brigham Biobank after two years from the blood donation for research.

I attended some French Library events, such as the online conversation club.

I kept applying for new jobs with Massachusetts Careers when they roll out new opportunities. At least the notifications are relevant, such as Chief, Director, and leadership positions.

My 9A Packet with the Collins vs Federal Express was denied. Thus, the reason for the Rule 9A teaching moment from the Massachusetts attorneys.

I ordered a new Nike pair of shoes around my budget of $50. Yes, the Revolution 6 is very comfortable and squeaks every time I make a step.

Federal Express Print and Go function works really well, but I had to go to Office Depot for my production and large print jobs. It came out well from Office Depot. I had 110 pages of Collins vs Pine Street Inn case times 10 copies.

I launched my small business, Collins Incorporated and Manley Collins Health and Fitness Club, websites and new way of doing business. My target audience is the shop and go without a membership subscription, but still adhere to membership policies for repeat customers and visitors.

I attended Massachusetts Rehabilitation Commission OFCCP Job Fair. MRC provided transportation and food to and from the event for disabled persons.

Massachusetts Department of Transitional Assistance ended my SNAP after full synchronization of my income behind the scenes. However, after a month, I applied for an appeal. I went to my first DTA hearing. It was my first time attending an in-person visit to a physical DTA office in Nubian Square. I went early to ensure I meet the hearing officer on time.

Eric Jerome Dickey's Waking with Enemies was filling the gaps of other books. The end of this book was the most captivating because when death comes in either shape or form, and depending on the person it is done too. It changes the perspective and life of the person who did it. This is definitely a climatic and funny scenario of tough guy talk, and not backing it up, and not checking to see the targets are dead, and death comes biting the tough guy in the butt. I am that leave-no-trace-of-evidence guy - clean up is slow or fast and at my pace. Gideon, the main character, you better work and train the next generation. My current example: SplitSpot - 228 Washington St, Brighton, MA - clean the entire house out - it took me a week, but it was cleant - we are still fighting over a foreclosed house not mine and my small room eviction, and probably disrupting the company's headquarters and foreign investor money laundering systems. Wrong type of company (SplitSpot, Bungalow, or June Homes) capitalizing on other people misfortunes of homeownership.

I am going to take a break from the alternative knowledge of books to focus on my group fitness classes.

Eric Jerome Dickey's Before We Were Wicked was really good reflection on positive versus negative in relationships. Every woman and all Africans, the Islands, and Asian Indian need to read or listen to this book. If you are the color of me lighter or darker, then think people of opposite color going to treat any different than those of the same DNA gene, skin tone, pool in the United States of America. Reality check is coming if you have not experienced it like me. Ken Swift is my dawg, my N-word, and favorite character. Women in any culture that are a Jimi Lee-type stay away from me because it reminds me so much of my ex-girlfriend. Jimi Lee-type women do not figure the consequences of death in trying to negotiate an assassin's or shark's business. Let Africans, the Islands, and Asian Indians run around thinking they are white in the USA, when groups like the KKK and white supremacy run around, and I want to physically see the consequence of the African, the Islands, or Asian Indian. Colorism is real in the United States of America, which is you black, brown, or white. Another note, families think they are better families than other families because of a child. Glad I woke up and understood the war. Let any of my exes or even his/her exes bring that war to my door.

Eric Jerome Dickey's Decadence provided me knowledge about Atlanta, Georgia that I did not realize I missed. Who has been to Trapeze Atlanta, Decadence, Rooftop 866? Wow, my opportunities were missed, and I would love to meet freaky women that can come close to the characters in this book and book 'Pleasure'. Is that too much wishful thinking? The brutal truth in honesty when asking about people's relationship history.

It is hilarious on the decision on whether or what choices to change the FaceBook status for relationships. I am wondering if my last ex-girlfriend took a course in oral sex to give me the best blowjob before leaving the relationship. Getting the explanation of sexual science is so helpful for things I did not notice about the other partner or myself. This book of eroticism is ablaze and millions of fire or fireworks emojis. I wonder who I will run into in such places.

Women do have a time period to make babies. Men can make babies all the way in the age of 80s and 90s. This is a good book on how exes from teenagers or college when someone does wrong and expects to be justified for being wrong, and things get uglier on reunions or reuniting because of the wrong choice. "Fornication Under Consent of the King." "For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge." I am loving these history terms of where words came from. I knew all the sexual options between female and male ("heterosexuals") were not totally crazy, but it is the spouse or partner's level of acceptance.

Wow…unbelievable for hopeless romantics holding out for that one to change their lives. Marriage is a serious business built on many wanted and unwanted factors. If you want to see my skeletons and bodies, then I want to see your skeletons and bodies. At this stage of life, no such thing as a Virgin Mary or Virgin Joseph. If you are claiming to be a virgin, let's go to a gynecologist, proctologist, and/or urologist. I was not wrong in thinking of prenuptial and postnuptial agreement even when neither party is wealthy. Men do not realize women have been empowered to want equal access to everything, become independent and forward thinkers, and believe they can do life without us. The backhanded trash comes out so later in life for everything that was not mentioned during high school and college. Nia Simone Beju is one good character. The truth spared no feelings. End of the day or the moment of opportunity comes reconciliation and closure…and physical separation forever (connected only by text, email or social media for some, and no communication for others) at least for my end. Hate is what people have when it is something or someone (like me) they cannot control. Glad I got to know all my living siblings from all my daddies, mother, and fathers.

Race (2016) film about Jesse Owens was good and touched all the areas of life surrounding his life, family, and handling situations. It shows the realization when to capitalize on opportunities benefitting not only you, but the organizations as a whole because sports never sees color while people or humans make it an issue. I still love my sport, track and field. Eric Jerome Dickey's Pleasure made me reflect back on my sexual situations using sex as a way to resolve conflict. This was one heck of a story with twins, a wife, and the side chicks. Sometimes I do not realize the pains from other people when they come to me to find resolve when nothing about resolution comes to my mind. At this point in my life, sex is a task, responsibility, pleasure, healthy, a release of all emotions, and a job.

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Why We Can’t Wait was a transition in writing and was very different. I am glad to hear from him how he developed his platform for the non-violence movement toward civil rights. In previous posts, I did indicate some harsh comments for continuing to treat me like him. Similar logic and same purpose, but different platforms. Unfortunately, I can understand his choices as being the leading voice for his movement, the United States slow progress for change, harsh compromises for changes, but I am grateful for his writings in letting us (African-Americans/Black/Colored) people know what truly transpired in Birmingham, Alabama, the Deep South, and he made mention of all the events that literally saw through monuments and tours of Birmingham, Alabama with my fraternity brothers, Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. Best Quotes:

1. “You have to be prepared to Die in order to start Living.”

2. “Freedom is the reward from the Oppressor. The Oppressed has to demand and fight for Freedom.” (I may have added some words, but it works.)

Thanks to all the African-Americans/Black/Colored, young and old, who truly sacrificed in the attempts to become equal and be free totally, and paved the way for me, my generation, and future generations. Just thirteen (13) years before my birth….wow! Thanks my dear fraternity brother, Dr. King, and his family for preserving his legacy.

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Where Do We Go From Here was a very intellectual work and more descriptive of the same black history that successfully passed on to at least my generation. This work gave a more definitive definition of racism as a disease. I do agree it is a disease. Some parts were sampled from his previous works and more explanations in depth. I was surprised he mentioned or met President Barack Obama before he became President, and he made plenty of United States Presidential comparisons. A lot of the people from plenty of restaurants and churches that I visited that had pictures of him, Smithsonian museum photos, and very popular people marching with him were mentioned. This is a real story and not made up. I comprehend his logic on whites trying to support the civil rights and equality causes, but whites truly could not relate what their race and ethnicity does to the minorities. It was plenty of groups mentioned with variety of perspectives including the militant perspectives. I guess it was an indirect mention of Malcolm X and Black Panthers. The price was high for the high profile assassinations going on from all the groups. Again, I am grateful for the survivors and my condolences for the families in their losses to provide for my generation, or at least for me to do what I do in the United States of America that can be transferred anywhere.

July 2023 This weekend Boston, Massachusetts welcomed more African-Americans and its supporters. I am glad to be an African-American/Black/Colored person. We went through alot as a people and still being done wrong. I attended my first NAACP National Convention ever. I had fun getting to know and seeing my people like me. I even ate collard greens, macaroni and cheese, and turkey at the black people price of $16 plus $4 dollar drink. It was cool. BLACK POWER

Well, the United States Track and Field Association Masters Championships in Greensboro, North Carolina is over. It was a very nice weekend to reacquaint with folks I have not seen in decades or a few years. I made some new acquaintances and surround myself with champions for fun, times, advice, and records. Thanks for the moments, USATF, Delta Airlines, Marriott Hotels, City of Greensboro, North Carolina A&T State University, and Potomac Valley Track Club. I love track and field. I did the 100m dash, 4x800m relay, Long Jump, 200m dash, 4x100m relay, 4x400m relay.

Top Ten (10) Personal Music Playlists

Water - Tyla

BomBon - Daddy Yankee

Seven - Jung Kook (featuring Latto)

Not Letting Go - Tinie Tempah (featuring Jess Glynne)

Rush - Troye Sivan

Promise - Ciara

Turn Back Time - Diplo & Sonny Fodera

Is My Living in Vain - The Clark Sisters

Drugs from Amsterdam - Mau P

Look At Me! - TokyoSleep

LinkedIn Learning (formerly Lynda.com)

Artificial Intelligence for Cybersecurity

Linux Security and Hardening Essential Training

Human Resources: Payroll

Generative Artificial Intelligence: Working with Large Language Models

QuickBooks and Excel: Importing and Exporting Transactions

QuickBooks Payroll Essential Training

Top 10 Rules for Highly Effective Leadership

Leading Virtual Meetings

Dentist appointments were with Tend. Tend continuously pushed for dental insurance. I am/was a cash payment person for dental services.

Doctor appointment with Heather Edwards of the Boston Medical Center Department of Otolaryngology was cancelled.

Boston Neurobehavioral Associates was a very awful therapy service when they hardly kept a regular schedule of appointments like my previous therapists in Boston.

I had a motion to compel or a 9c conference with Federal Express for the unanswered or vague responses to interrogatories.

I met with my psychiatrist at Massachusetts General Hospital.

I went to the Boston Library KBLIC Podcasting Class. It was very informative on how to do podcasting and more tips to make sessions better.

I met with a friend at Caffe Nero.

Pine Street Inn played so many housing games that they do not even respect their own rules and 365 suspension. When I told them about SplitSpot beating them to the shared housing punch and their own 365 suspension of services, they finally got the message and cancelled everything from the Housing Tour and Metro Housing Leasing Public Housing Voucher that assign the voucher only to the specific room at 51 Beals St, Brookline, Massachusetts.

I attended a webinar with French Entree called Your Moving to France To-Do List: Visas, Healthcare, Paperwork.

I had the 9C Conference with City of Boston. I had a 9C Conference with Massachusetts AGO Office. I had another educational moment with how the 9A packet is presented. All other defendants attorneys did a similar presentation.

I did another gym audition at a gym I use to go to.

I attended another French Library Online Conversation Zoom meeting.

I met with my UOPX Mentee and discussed each other's accomplishments and topics around the IRB process.

I met with Microsoft Advertising on optimizing my marketing campaigns for my small business.

I met with my HearUSA for a hearing appointment. This time no raising hands, but yell out the repeated word from a sound booth.

I attended parts of the UOPX Knowledge Without Borders Summit.

I attended a UOPX Webinar named Feeling 'Enough': Empowering Multicultural Identities and Fostering Inclusive Connections. And another one named Transform Conversations of Bewilderment to Bravery

I went to the first hearing date of October 20, 2023 of Collins vs SplitSpot at Eastern Housing Court of Massachusetts. Only to discover the court date was canceled. No one informed of the date change.

My OMNY card sent a notice of expiration.

I had to contact Nelnet to put all loans in deferment.

Thank goodness I have service libraries to complete the tasks of Adobe Acrobat Pro software, printing, scanning, and copying. I like the Print Management System in one library and the Scanning Management System at another library.

With my new BCBS plan, I was still able to see MGH doctors, but they are called specialists. I had to return to BMC to be seen. I saw a MGH dermatologist for removal a mole on my back near my spine. It was benign for cancer or any other diseases.

I did not win the $1+ billion dollar lottery. My mind is still playing tricks on me.

I met with my Studio Optics ophthalmologist after a year away. We have a hold order for another pair of glasses. We discussed contacts and he saw that I could read the charts well. He mentioned the contacts would blind me and I would not be able to read.

I ordered my Caplyta via CVS Caremark mail service and it actually worked and got my medication through the mail. After my refill order, I maybe denied for any future orders.

Potomac Valley Track Club has the Young Flyers for children and teens that would like to run track. Let me know.

September Holidays and Awareness

Happy Labor Day, Happy Rosh Hashanah, Happy Yom Kippur, Happy Mawlid, National College Colors Day, Happy World Beard Day, Happy Patriot Day, Happy National Boss/Employee Exchange Day, Happy Mexican Independence Day, National Childhood Injury Prevention Week, National Suicide Prevention Week, National Historically Black Colleges and Universities Week, Happy Hispanic Heritage Month, National Singles Week, National Fruit & Veggies Month, National Self-Care Awareness Month, National Sickle Cell Awareness Month

SmartPhone Apps

Bounce - temporary storage app.

Oracle Authenticator - new multifactor cloud authenticator

Venmo - mobile payment processor

KFC - Kentucky Fried Chicken ordering app.

SCSUBulldogs - South Carolina State University Bulldogs ordering and athletic news app.

Keep Notes - Google note taking app. I was able to synchronize my notes from Apple to Google, AOL, Microsoft OneNote, and Yahoo.

AudioFetch - GymIt television tuning application to listen to the various channels.

Curb - Taxicab ordering application (Best alternative to Uber and Lyft).

Office Depot - supplies, technology, ordering app.

Stop and Shop - ordering app and rewards.

[rosavulpes]

" Wanted to give you an update . Brought another Eggman Base down with Omega . I've searched every single room I could find . There's no physical trace of Eggman to be found anywhere here . Feels like I've just been running around in circles these past few weeks . Wastin' time "

Occasionally pushing the communicator up close against his ear , and close up to his mouth to ensure that he was coming across to her as clearly as he could as he moved about . He was certain that Evelyn would be able to pick up on the loud sounds of gunfire erupting around him or more specifically , trailing behind him .

Keeping ahead of Eggman's shots as he spoke , he was more so worried about the device in his ear coming loose , rather than the Evelyn being concerned about his safety . After all , this sort of environment was something that she had been used to quite a long while back . Getting a call from him while he was in the middle of a fight ? Nothing out of the norm .

Kicking off from the ground , increasing the output of his rocket skates , he'd streak across the air in a burst of flame . Flipping once to right himself , shoes coming into contact with the smooth surface one of the few remaining watch towers that hadn't been brought down .

His gaze momentarily diverted away from the Doctor and Omega , as he placed a hand down against the metal wall to adjust himself . When his gaze was raised once more , a barrage of pointed missiles lined the skyline . All aimed , and speeding towards him .

How it was that the Doctor always managed to have , obtain , or purchase so many resources that would be needed to manufacture so many weapons of mass destruction was a mystery to all that they'd had never been able to solve . Some rumors stated that he secretly owned , or manipulated multiple mines into selling him ores for discounted prices , or bought them through a third party to avoid detection . Other's believed that Eggman made use of space stations situated far outside of Earth's atmosphere that mined asteroids or even other planets for the metals , and materials for his weapons . Nothing could ever be proved , or disproved in the end . Either way ? It always ended up going to waste because of the Doctor's narcissism when it came to his creations ... and an itchy trigger finger to boot .

Taking in a deep breath , Shadow focused on heightening his awareness . The same mental , and breathing techniques used when he knew he was about to turn up his speed to the max . The world around him slowing down , the missiles that had nearly been upon him slowing to a crawl . Only inching their way towards him now to which he'd make use of them as platforms .

Jumping from one to the other , knocking them off their intended course , colliding some of them against one another . He'd start to wind up his right arm the closer he drew to the Egg Dragoon's " head " . Building up chaos energy within his gloved fingers before they closed together , balled up into a tight fist that was soon impacted against the surface of the Doctor's mobile carrier which served as the machine's " head " where it was operated from .

Cracks spreading across the surface of the glass like dome after his fist made contact , the impact knocking the machine downwards . Slamming it hard against the earth .

" Heard somewhere that you two keep tabs on one another . You leave him be , and he looks the other way when deciding where to send his egg pawns to attack . Sound about right ? "

Flexing the fingers within his right hand as he awaited her response , stretching them out , opening and closing his hand . Even giving them a quick little shake too. The armor plating on the Dragoon was nothing to scoff at . The light numbness in his right hand evident of that but , the feeling would come to fade as he watched Omega tear his way into the cockpit of the downed machine with his arms now folded .

" Been a while . Mind if I stop by for a talk ? "

[thefanficmonster]

Beyond The Darkness

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Angst, Relationship Struggles, Self-doubt, Insecurities, Swearing

Genre: Angst with Fluff Ending, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Y/N finally expresses their worries, reluctance and suspicions regarding their relationship with Corpse who is more than surprised to be hearing such confession, thinking their relationship couldn’t be more perfect. Well, perfect on the surface.

Requested by @cinnamonbun332  Hi darling! I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! You asked for some heartbreaking and then heart-healing and I hope I delivered properly. Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

I didn’t choose to be insecure, I never wanted to be so anxious and self-conscious. No one can blame that on me for it’s something I’d get rid of within the blink of an eye if it were that easy. I didn’t choose to fall in love with Corpse either, it just happened. I was taken by storm by the feelings he awoke in me. It was terrifying and made me become a whole different person around him. I was torn between wanting him by my side at all times and never wanting to see him again for the purpose of those feelings dying down. That being said, I can’t be blamed for that either.

However, I can be blamed for one thing: accepting his offer for a date. I didn’t have to. I probably shouldn’t have accepted it just as much as he shouldn’t have brought it up. But, alas, I couldn’t help myself. That storm of emotions, that stirring lava within the volcano I was at the time was dying to seep out to the surface so it wouldn’t burn me from the inside out. Him asking me out on a date was practically the vessel for me to finally have a chance at expressing myself and how I feel and that’s something I’ve never been able to do properly or openly. 

But with Corpse it has always been so easy.

Or...it was so easy.

It was easy until I started overthinking everything. Every interaction between us, between him and his friends. Between our two separate worlds.

I now have a hard time seeing us as a union, like we’re living together on the same planet of understanding and companionship. No, we’re more alike two planets in orbits near one another that are close but not close enough. Never destined to touch. Where I once saw light, I now see nothing. Almost as if I flipped the switch to my happiness myself. I wouldn’t be surprised if I did, it wouldn’t be my first time. I have a way of always finding a way to kill my happiness, put an end to my bliss. The key to doing so is what I already mentioned: overthinking, underestimating, undermining, over-worrying. In short: allowing my mind to torture me.

Sadly, it’s also forcing me to torture others.

At the moment, I’m spending day four back into my apartment, having come back with the excuse that I needed to get some piping fixed in the kitchen and needed to watch over the plumbers as they worked. I think Corpse bought that only halfway but if he didn’t believe me, he didn’t show it and I’m grateful for it. Or at least I think I am. Obviously, there was a part of me which screamed ‘See, he doesn’t care!’ at me when all he said in response to my announcement was ‘Oh, ok’. Of course, I didn’t pay that voice much mind then, but it’s starting to creep back in now and I really don’t know what to distract myself with to avoid hearing it. It’s not like I can internally deafen myself to stop it from eating away at me slowly but intently and with a scary determination that even I myself don’t have. Sadly, the pessimistic side of me does.

Truth be told, I wasn’t planning on staying home alone for four days straight, thinking I wouldn’t be able to make it that long without Corpse, thinking my loneliness would kill me. But, now that I am indeed alone, for some reason, I don’t feel really lonely, if at all. It’s refreshing and new, like a new but old perspective. Basically one I’ve missed for quite some time now without knowing that I did. Who knew going back to my empty apartment would be the cure to my messy head. Well, not a direct cure, but I have managed to map out at least a small portion of what’s going on up there, mend some of the damage I’ve done to myself.

Why do you always do that?

There’s that voice again, and some audacity it has! I’m not doing anything to myself! That voice is!

Saying that in court would easily land you in a mental facility, you know.

Fucking touché.

I think the reason why this is happening to me at the moment is because it’s been exactly four days since I last contacted Corpse. Or since he last contacted me. See what I’m going for here? See how toxic my mindset can be? Yeah, even I can hardly believe it sometimes. Like, how can something so dark be part of me - someone who used to be so cheerful and bubbly growing up. My nickname used to be ‘sunflower’ for a reason, but I might as well be a wilted willow now.

And who do you have to blame for that?

Will you fucking shut it!!!

As I’m in the midst of yet another self-argument, I near the doorbell ring, scaring me to the point I almost fall off my desk chair. I only then become aware of the blank MS Word document staring back at me. Throwing myself into work hasn’t been able to help me today. Instead of it distracting me from my struggles, it’s the other way around and I can’t fucking stand it.

Just like I’m beginning not to be able to stand myself. How Corpse and my friends do it, I have no idea. Well, they have it easy I guess, they don’t have to hear all the shit that happens in this beehive on my shoulders.

I lazily saunter over to open the door, not even thinking about looking through the peephole prior to turning the doorknob and swinging it open. That’s a mistake, considering that the mess I am is now face to face with Corpse. Let’s be honest, I’m past the point of stressing over how I look in front of him, we’ve been dating for almost a year now after all. However, this look on me right now is beyond disturbing. One that would leave him questioning if I need help or if I’m doing alright. The answer to both of those questions is no, by the way. Yes, to both.

“Corpse?“ I croak out, fighting my way out of the cloud of confusion surrounding me.

“Y/N?“ He replies, mimicking me though his confusion isn’t as much confusion as it is concern. Gotta say - rightfully so.

I shake my head as if awakening from a fever dream, basically hitting the ground head-first, “Um...yeah, uh, come in!” I finally manage to say, forcing my feet to step aside to allow him inside.

He nods and takes a step beyond the doorstep, cautious as though I’ve rigged the place with traps. I mean, ok, I’m weird, but not that weird. I’m not a complete psycho. At least not yet. Give me a few more months by myself. Or weeks. 

“I haven’t been here in so long...“ he mumbles, sounding almost as if he’s talking to himself. Before I could say anything, he wanders off into the kitchen, “Where are the plumbers?“

“What plumbers?“ I blurt out, unable to contain the widening of my eyes when I realize what I’ve said.

You. Fucking. Idiot!!!

“The ones you came here to monitor...?“ His answer sounds more like a question as well, both of us just staring at each other as we await what idiocy will leave my brain and come out of my mouth next.

The silence lasts for a few seconds before he breaks it by speaking up again, “There are no plumbers, are there?”

“No, not today! I mean- not right now.“ I resist the urge to smack my forehead with the palm of my hand in embarrassment. “They’ll come back...later! They were here up until an hour ago.“

Real smooth, Y/N. This is why you never play Among Us

Corpse looks around, even taking a peek over my shoulder before making a mock-confused expression as he shrugs his shoulders, “Your kitchen looks pretty tidy for being a place of such complex fixes happening.“

I let out a hysterical gust of laughter, squeezing my thumb so hard I might rip it off my hand, “Yeah, you know me, I like my living space tidy.”

He nods slowly, “Yeah, I know you. I know you’re not.“

The air gets caught in my throat when he eyes meet mine when he says that. I feel redness creeping up my neck, spreading across my cheeks and climbing up to my forehead and ears.

Oh you’d so be ejected right now

“Y/N, what’s really going on here? Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong? If so, please just tell me. This silent treatment and avoiding is killing me. If I didn’t come here I would’ve gone insane. You would’ve found my walls with writings on them...“ He stops talking abruptly, letting out a soundless sigh as though his soul left his body, his gaze softening with sadness, “That is, of course, if you were even planning to come back. Ever...“

“Of course I was!“ I exclaim, feeling my chest tighten at the hurt I see in his eyes, “I just...I needed time. I still do.“

“Time away from what?“ He asks, desperate to hear the answer no matter how much it could hurt him.

I honestly don’t know what to tell him. I have no idea what I’m running from. I don’t even know if I’m running, hiding, contemplating, I have no idea what I’m doing. Is he the problem? Am I? Are we the problem? Our relationship as a whole?

“I don’t need time from anything, Corpse. I just...I need some time with myself. With my own thoughts. I’m really torn, have been for quite some time now. I don’t know what I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know if I’m doing is the right thing. I don’t know if we are the right thing. I-...“ I buffer for a second, feeling the words start getting more and more tripped up as they climb up my throat. Eventually, they end up getting caught in an invisible net which doesn’t allow them to make it to my mouth, let alone leave it. Now at a loss for words, I let out a sigh of defeat, feeling my eyes welling up with tears, “I don’t know anything, damn it! I’m a mess. Why do you tolerate me? I’m no good to myself let alone to someone else!“

I don’t know where this outburst came from, but I’d be a liar if I said it wasn’t relieving. I feel like a popped balloon, letting out what’s been straining me from the inside for a long time now. Lord knows how Corpse took it, I can’t bring myself to look up at him, but all I know is that I finally did something I can officially deem right.

Suddenly, I feel the familiar touch of Corpse’s hands on my shoulders, pulling my chest flush against his, his arms wrapping around me, enveloping me in a tight embrace. His lips plans a kiss a the top of my head before he rests his chin there, holding me tightly.

“Why haven’t you told me any of this?“ He whispers, his voice emotional to the point of almost making me regret saying all that.

Almost...

“I didn’t want to worry you.“ I let out a half-hearted chuckle, “And I didn’t want you finding out what kind of nut-job you’re dating.“

He scoffs, “Even if you were a nut-job, Y/N - which, by the way, you’re not - I wouldn’t mind. I’m a nut-job for you. Utterly and completely crazy for you, babe. I’m always here for you, always there for you to talk to me, tell me all that’s going on in that busy head of yours. All you have to do is talk, and all I’ll do is listen.”

I sniff briefly, “Now you’re making me regret not saying it earlier.”

“Then I’m doing the right thing.“ He mutters, his tone suggesting I take the wheel of the conversation and say all I’ve been keeping within me until now.

“You see, I tend to enjoy certain things a lot. Get attached to people super quickly and easily. And then, after a certain period of time, I find myself rethinking and overthinking everything about that thing or person to the point I’m not even sure I like it - or them - anymore. At least not to the same degree as previously. I slowly start become unsure of everything around me, even my own thoughts and feelings. It’s almost like where I used to see light, there’s now darkness. Worst part is, I’m the one who put that light out for myself. I always do it to myself and then hate myself for it. It’s a vicious cycle that I can’t escape - killing my joy and blaming and despising myself for it.“ I sigh, nuzzling my face into his chest, “I just wish this curse avoided our relationship. You’re too good to me, I love you too much to lose you, Corpse.“

I feel his arms tighten their hold on me even more, pulling me even closer despite it not being possible. “Y/N, you can’t lose me. Not over that, not over anything. We all have our demons, you just gotta remember to hold onto me tighter than those demons are holding onto you. You gotta let me help you when you realize you can’t help yourself.” He gently pulls away from me, his hands now coming up to cup my cheeks as he gazes into my eyes, “You gotta learn to see beyond the darkness you surround yourself with. Beyond the darkness, that’s where I’m waiting for you. I’m always gonna be there. I’m a very patient guy, you know.”

I can’t help but laugh, suddenly feeling the bubbly giggles escaping from my chest, pressed out of me by the massive wave of relief that’s washed over my sore insides. Sore from the holding back and now even more so from letting go. But damn does it feel good.

“Looks like I don’t need a plumber but an electrician to fix this light I keep turning off.“ I say, pushing up on my toes to only barely touch my forehead to his. Luckily, he sees what I’m trying to do, so he leans down. “I need him to make it un-turn-off-able.“

Corpse smiles, humming approvingly, “I can help you with that. Starting with...“ and with that he tilts his head, his lips colliding with mine.

I gotta say: damn have I missed this feeling.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[newswcanonprompts]

Anakin is sent to negotiate with Gardulla the Hutt bc of the success of the Jabba mission (no one in the Council knows Gardulla used to own him)

editor’s note: there is actually a fic that came from this, by the lovely @primeemeraldheiress! here is the link

this one is SUPER angsty, sorry in advance, i missed the original conversation about this prompt and when i got back online everyone was yelling about it, when i read what they did i was in *shock*. like ow. anyways have fun

After being so helpful in rescuing Jabba the Hutt's son, Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up being sent on a mission to help Gardulla the Hutt because Anakin hasn't told anyone about his history with her

Possible reactions from Gardulla:

"Skywalker? I owned a human like that, her brat always caused trouble. Good riddance!"

What if she decides that since he's back in her territory that means he belongs to her again

.....gardulla hears him try to call obi-wan master and tries to buy anakin from him (Gardulla asking if obi-wan is anakin's master and anakin being in such a messed up mental space that he says yes, trusting that Obi-wan won’t let her buy him)

Obi-Wan wondering why Anakin is being so specifically arsey with this Hutt. "Force you're worse with her than you were with Jabba."

"Oh yeah, she bought me and my mother. I think I have a reason to dislike her."

The council meeting afterwards where obi-wan rails on the council...

Obi-Wan suddenly getting a horrible feeling whenever Anakin calls him master because he's known the contexts were different but now it is real and in his face

Like it's a different thing for Obi-Wan to know his padawan used to be a slave compared to looking his padawan's former master in the eye and seeing her current slaves.

Anakin manages to control himself in the throne room but the whole way there and back he can't help worrying that one of the really old lash scars that curls around his shoulder will be noticed, that his identity as a former slave will be exposed

anakin not being able to call obi-wan master on tatooine like. point blank. he starts addressing him as master and just. flinches.

anakin usually wears his heart on his sleeves right?? always shows his emotions, feelings, all that. Well, the closer they get to gardulla's palace the blanker his face gets

Ahsoka calls Anakin master and Anakin just grits out a "Please don't call me that, not here."

Obi-Wan suddenly realising why Anakin comes across as arrogant as times. He's spent his entire life trying to up his value because there's safety in value.

Anakin telling them not to use the name "Skywalker" while they're in the palace

Anakin's accent shifts so entirely to the point where it almost sounds like Obi-Wan's because he's so determined to not slip into old roles

Anakin having to be physically held back from getting into a physical fight. Not even using his lightsaber, he just wants to fight

Or, alternatively, all the fight just going out of Anakin because he knows, here, it'll just make everything worse. So he's almost.... compliant and it freaks everyone out

Ex. from @youngcreativenerdgoddess: Obi-Wan is terrified. His former padawan is the most resigned he’s ever been. He looks so....defeated. A look one would never expect on the vaunted “Hero with no fear”. All the fight was gone from him, and that scared him more than anything else in this force-damned war had.

Obi-Wan actually being the one about to lose his temper and then Anakin just puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him there's no point.

Consider: instead of anakin being angry he was sent on the mission, being resigned because of course he was, he knew Gardulla bes

Anakin comes across as an almost perfect Jedi for once in his life and in the context it is horrifying

Anakin’s report to the council is so matter of fact because he thought they knowingly sent him on the mission because of his past experience with Gardulla

Obi-Wan finds Anakin writing what he thinks is a CV then he sees the numbers next to it and it is his estimated value--"for the gardulla mission, if she finds out who I am she'll try to rebuy me"

After the mission, from @jasontoddiefor: "Failed you, we have," Yoda said, his voice full of grief, and Obi-Wan watched in horror as Anakin only titled his head, for once looking his age and not the years the war has aged him. 

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, not understanding.

Examples of bits and pieces from this prompt:

Ex. from jasontodiefor: Anakin in the corner of her palace having a breakdown because he remembers memories he had thought gone, his mother's shouting and the tearful begging and the pain, pain, pain and he hadn't meant to break the vase, it had been an accident, please stop it hurts, Mom-

jasontodiefor: "A game of chance." 

"What?" 

Anakin doesn't look up from his hands, doesn't meet Obi-Wan's eyes. He hadn't since they'd arrived here. "I'd still be here like them if not for a game of chance. I'd be worth more than just a few credits too. Force-sensitive, young, good with mechanics, pretty-"

Ex. from Ro: Obi-Wan has never seen Anakin this silent before. There were nights before, when they were both younger, Obi-Wan himself still trying to heal from Qui-Gon's death and Anakin trying to get used to the temple. And Anakin would get quiet, but he was never this stone cold silent. Never this blank. He's so emotional, Obi-Wan's former padawan (his child), so open with his heart on his sleeve. There is none of that here, none of that bright boy. Anakin doesn't fight it, and that is the thing that worries Obi-Wan the most, because when Anakin doesn't like something he fights, he lashes out with teeth and sticks his heels in. But in this, he is resigned. (Anakin doesn't let Ashoka off the ship. She fights and argues but Anakin doesn't move, doesn't joke. He stands firm with it and Obi-Wan watches.

"Master, I—" 

Anakin flinches, "You're staying on the ship, Ahsoka, that's final." She huffs and leaves, and the only thing Obi-Wan can see is how relieved Anakin looks. There is something wrong here, but Anakin has never liked talking about Tatooine, and Obi-Wan has never pushed.) Obi-Wan has never hated a mission more.

Another ex from jasontodiefor: "But-" 

"You're young," Anakin interrupts her sharply. Ahsoka hates it when he cuts her off. It doesn't happen too often, mostly on the battlefield when he's barking orders at everyone. If anything, he lets her speak out of tune more often than he should or other Masters would, but right now his voice doesn't leave any room for agreement. "Young, underage actually, and female, that's the first 10K. Extra five if they don't sell you as inexperienced, and only stupid slavers would do that, but as a virgin."

Ahsoka pales. Anakin's voice is harsh, but there is an almost easy flow to his words, as if he had recited them in his head over and over again. "Force sensitive, that's next. Another 8K regularly, but you're a Jedi, so that's 20K. A Padawan, mind you, but you're a known face next to mine and Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan would fetch 40 for his status as a Jedi and councilor alone. And you're a Togruta, you sell better than a human girl. I'd add another 6 for that."

You sell better. Not you would, there's nothing hypothetical about this, Ahsoka realizes. Anakin's narrowing down what would happen to her if somebody just managed to grab her lightsabers, to put a collar around her throat and cut her off from all that she had ever known. "Now, that's just your base value," Anakin continues. "You're also a pretty good mechanic and pilot, though the latter makes your flight risk much higher. Given how dangerous you are, let's say 10K. You're a strong fighter, so you could probably get another 8K in the arena, perhaps a little more depending on what planet you're sold on. Your political value also can't be overlooked. You fight at the front and know much more about the war effort as a whole and that's worth much more, probably another 15." Anakin holds up his fingers like he's counting apples and now how much people would be willing to brand her as theirs. "So we're roughly at 70. That's not bad at all. Not as much as Obi-Wan or I would get, but it's more than enough. You're not coming on this mission. End of discussion."

[padawanlost]

Something I've noticed recently over the past few months is this trend where people have been diagnosing Anakin with narcissistic personality disorder instead of C-PTSD or BPD, the more commonly seen diagnoses. I personally disagree, but I wanted to hear your "two sense" on the matter if you will, you're one of the best meta-writers on this site.

It’s because people don’t like Anakin as presented on screen. They want Anakin to be as selfish and arrogant as possible so they can blame him from everything that happened. If it’s ALL about Anakin than everyone else can be left off the hook. 

Anakin ‘I don’t want to be a problem’ Skywalker is clearly narcissistic. I mean, he fits all the signs:

Have a sense of entitlement and require constant, excessive admiration

“Ten years in this place, and still he was an object of interest. Of speculation. All their hopes and dreams hanging on him like decorations on a bantha skeleton at Boonta Eve. He hated it.” [Clone Wars: Wild space, Karen Miller]

Have an exaggerated sense of self-importance

“You would forgo your destiny for Padmé?” Anakin’s brows beetled in anger. “I never claimed to be the Chosen One. That was Qui-Gon. Even the Council doesn’t believe it anymore, so why should you?” [ James Luceno. Labyrinth of Evil]

Expect to be recognized as superior even without achievements that warrant it

Anakin bumped his hand against [Obi-wan]. “Wait. Just—wait.” Embarrassed, he took a deep breath. “Look. Don’t take this the wrong way. It’s just—it’s the mission, right? That’s what matters. So—”  “Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s whisper sounded amused. “It’s fine. I was about to suggest it myself when the droids turned up.”  “You were?”  “Play to your strengths and minimize your weaknesses. That’s how a battle is won. That’s how we’ll win the war.”  Anakin had to smile. I should’ve known he wouldn’t take it personally. “Yeah. So—once I’m up and over and nobody raises the alarm, give me a five-count then follow. I’ll give you the best Force boost I can. Not that you’ll need much. Your leap was only a meter and a half behind Master Windu’s. Remember?”  Obi-Wan gave a breathy chuckle. “I remember I had nosebleeds for a week afterward. Don’t ever feel bad for being extraordinary, Anakin. Now off you go. We don’t have all night.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Take advantage of others to get what they want

“He thought of how unflinchingly loyal Anakin was to anyone he considered a friend.” [Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith]

Exaggerate achievements and talents

He was the Chosen One, they told him. He was supposed to bring balance to the Force. Anakin thought that some little extra support might go with being the Chosen One, a helping hand or at least some understanding from the Jedi Council, but instead he was passed around like an unwelcome burden, ending up with Qui-Gon Jinn and then Kenobi because nobody else would have him. His chosen status meant less than nothing; it felt more like a stigma. And they wondered why he was difficult at times. Maybe they didn’t want balance, whatever that was. Maybe nobody liked a Jedi who was that different. He felt like an embarrassment to them. I do everything you ask of me. I try so hard. When is it going to be enough? When are you going to say, “Okay, Anakin Skywalker, you’re good enough”? Karen Traviss’s The Clone Wars

Be preoccupied with fantasies about success, power, brilliance, beauty or the perfect mate

Impatience. Concern. Relief. Loneliness. Weariness. And grief, not yet healed. Such a muddle of emotions. Such a weight on [Anakin]’s shoulders. Months of brutal battle had left [Ahsoka] drained and nearly numb, but it was worse for Anakin. He was a Jedi general with countless lives entrusted to his care, and every life damaged or lost he counted as a personal failure. For other people he found forgiveness; for himself there was none. For himself there was only anger at not meeting his own exacting standards. [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Believe they are superior and can only associate with equally special people

It’s not just Skywalker’s rank that makes us give him one hundred percent. It’s because he treats us with respect, and he puts himself on the line with us.” [The Clone Wars by Karen Traviss]

Monopolize conversations and belittle or look down on people they perceive as inferior

Having worked their way around the village, finding nothing to wake their uneasily sleeping sense of alarm, Obi-Wan and Anakin returned to the beaten-dirt square and the charter house. Its doors were open now and a woman who had to be Teeba Brandeh stood on the broad step, hands on her narrow hips, watching the children scatter across the square to play a proper game of kickball. Grinning, without bothering to ask if he might, or if it were wise, or if they had the time to spare, so independent these days, Anakin jogged to join them. After a moment’s amazed hesitation the children welcomed him with squeals of delight, rough-and-tumbled him into their midst and made him one of their own. Obi-Wan shook his head. “He’s nice,” said the girl with the bracelet and the ragged hair, wandering over to stand beside him. “Don’t be cross with him, Teeb Yavid.” Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege

“Oh, no,” said Anakin, grinning. “It was fun too.”  May the Force give me strength. “And that business with the boy? Because when I said no heavy lifting I—” Anakin’s amusement vanished.  “He wasn’t heavy. These younglings are skin and bone. I look at them and—” He clenched his jaw.  ”Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege

Expect special favors and unquestioning compliance with their expectations

[Anakin] did not like the fact that he had won. It seemed wrong that he had stepped so far out of line, and yet had been retained as a Padawan. He did not like the unease this victory, if victory it was, produced in him. Above all weaknesses, arrogance was the most costly. They keep me here because I have potential they’ve never seen before. They keep me in training because they’re curious to see what I can do. I feel like a rich man who never knows whether his friends are true-or whether they just want his money. This was a particularly galling thought, and certainly neither true nor fair. Why do they put up with me, then? Why do I keep testing them? [Greg Bear’s Rogue Planet]

Have an inability or unwillingness to recognize the needs and feelings of others

“I’m sorry. I’m not normally this stupid. I just—” And then she felt her face crumple and heard herself sob. Her knees buckled and she began to sink toward the floor. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she choked. “Don’t mind me. I’m fine.” [Anakin] caught her before she tumbled completely. Lifted her without effort and carried her to the sofa. Boneless and unprotesting, she let him. Let her face turn to his roughly shirted, dirty chest and howled her rage and shame against him. Dimly, she felt his hand warm and comforting on her back and heard his soft voice saying, over and over, “It’s all right. It’s all right. You’re safe now. It’s all right.” The crazy thing was that she did feel safe. For the first time since those Separatist blaster bolts seared the air and sand of Niriktavi Bay, since she saw her friends and colleagues slaughtered, she felt safe. Then, abruptly, she felt mortified. What was she doing? Weeping like a child all over a man young enough to be her son? Where was her pride? She shifted away from him, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.” “Don’t apologize,” he said gently. “You’ve got a right to be upset. Now, where’s that medkit?”Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth 

Be envious of others and believe others envy them

The Jedi Council didn’t want me, either. Being the Chosen One didn’t count for anything. Master Yoda wouldn’t train me, or Windu. Every member of the Jedi Council had had something more pressing to do than help him work out what this terrible, galaxy-changing power of his meant, and how he should live in its shadow. He still wasn’t sure. Anakin recalled standing there in that grand, polished Jedi Council Chamber, surrounded by what felt like fear, and disdain, and bewilderment—who were those Masters to feel bewildered, that the only person there who cared if he lived or died was Master Qui-Gon Jinn.  [Karen Traviss. The Clone Wars]

[Anakin] had worried that Obi-Wan did not have room for him in his heart. But Shmi’s smile rose in Anakin’s mind. Hearts have infinite room, my son. JUDE WATSON’S THE TRAIL OF THE JEDI

Behave in an arrogant or haughty manner, coming across as conceited, boastful and pretentious

The fear and dread in her face eased, just a little. “You’re a very sweet young man, Anakin Skywalker.” [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

[Anakin] humbles me, sometimes. He makes me feel small. He can’t see a broken thing without wanting to fix it. [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

“I don’t know,” she said, floundering. “I can’t say I’ve ever given the Jedi much thought. I mean, not as individuals. I never expected to meet one—let alone two. I don’t tend to go places where your skills are needed. But—well—you’re gentle.” [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Insist on having the best of everything — for instance, the best car or office

“I’m not giving him to you,” [Anakin]’d told her. “He’s not even really mine to give; when I built him, I was a slave, and everything I did belonged to Watto. Cliegg Lars bought him along with my mother; Owen gave him back to me, but I’m a Jedi. I have renounced possessions. I guess that means he’s free now. What I’m really doing is asking you to look after him for me.”  “Look after him?”  “Yes. Maybe even give him a job. He’s a little fussy,” he’d admitted, “and maybe I shouldn’t have given him quite so much self-consciousness—he’s a worrier—but he’s very smart, and he might be a real help to a big-time diplomat … like, say, a Senator from Naboo?”Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith 

[anneimaginesundertale]

Wish Upon a Star

A Birthday Drabble for @snowflakeimagines

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You havin’ a good birthday so far?” Sans asked as the two of you left Grillby’s hand in hand.

“Oh yeah,” you assured him. “Probably the best I’ve ever had. Burgers and fries with my best skelebae? What more could a girl ask for?”

Sans swung your twined hands. “Well,” he said, “I did have a bit more planned. You up for a shortcut to the planetarium? I, uh, left your present at work.” His eye lights twinkled as he smiled at you.

You didn’t believe that for a second, not with that grin, but you sighed and said, “I guess we could go for a few minutes, if there’s a present involved.”

“Hold tight for a shortcut then,” Sans said and he wrapped his arms around you. You felt the familiar pull as he moved both of you through time and space. You closed your eyes. The sensation of the shortcut itself wasn’t particularly pleasant, but the feeling of Sans’s arms around you definitely was.

“Here we are,” he whispered in your ear.

You opened your eyes again and found yourself in the control room for the planetarium’s telescope. You’d been here before—on your first date with Sans, in fact—but it still filled you with awe. The big dome on the ceiling showed you the entire starry sky. Sans looked up at it with you. “Pretty out of this world, huh?” he said. “They’re almost as beautiful as you.”

“Pssh, please,” you said, feeling your cheeks flush slightly at the compliment. “You say that to every girl you bring up here.”

“You’re the only one I ever bring up here.” He grinned at you. “Come on. I wanna show you your present.”

You expected him to pull a box out from under the computer desk, or maybe even from the telescope if he was trying to be funny, but instead, Sans sat down at the desk and began typing on the computer. It took you a minute to realize he was directing the telescope, moving it to focus on a particular point in space. You watched as the screen drifted through stars and past planets until it was near a certain tilted blue-green planet.

“Uranus?” you asked.

“It’s your favorite planet, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, touched that he’d remembered that from your first date. “Since I was six.”

“I remember,” Sans said. “We’ve gotta go a little past it now, though.” He kept moving the telescope, directing it back out into the darkness of space. You watched it a bit longer and then Sans stopped it again. This time it was focused on a blue-white star.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“A star,” Sans said. “SN-090921 is its technical name, but, well, you can call it whatever you want.” He gave you that grin again. “It’s yours now.” You barely even noticed him pulling out an envelope from his inventory.

“It’s mine?” you sputtered. “What—what does that even mean?”

“It means I bought it for you, and that gives you naming rights,” Sans says. He holds out the envelope to you. “That’s your star, and you can look at it any time you want.”

You had to blink back sudden hot tears. “Sans…” You flung your arms around his neck. The thought that he had bought a star for you—a whole fricking star, a real star!—was overwhelming you. You buried your face in his shoulder and held onto him for dear life.

“I love you,” you mumbled into his sweatshirt. “You’re the best. I love you so much.”

You felt him laugh. You felt his soul humming in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he said. “You deserve more than jewelry or candy or stuff like that. You’re so special to me, Snow, and I love you so much. I figured, I call you starshine and starlight…And now you have a star with unlimited wishes.”

“What do I need wishes for?” you said, looking up at him. “I’ve got everything I ever wanted right here, with you.”

His cheekbones bloomed with that blue blush you loved so much and his eyelights turned into little hearts. “Aww, Snow…”

“Thank you,” you said. “I love you, Sans.”

“I love you, starlight.”

The two of you kissed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy birthday, Snow!!! I hope it’s a great one! Sans loves you more than words can say, and I am so, so glad that you’re my friend! I’m posting this now so hopefully you’ll see it when you get up on your birthday (9/9). (Time zones are a stupid thing…)

[moonbeambucky]

I Promise (Part 2/2)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader Word Count: 4722 Warnings: fluff, light angst, pregnancy

Summary: Before heading to Mars Chris Beck reconnects with his best friend, unaware of the outcome of their night together. With the burden of his mission will Chris make a promise he can’t keep?

A/N: A big thank you to my love Allie @all1e23​​​​​ for beta reading 🍕❤️ gif source (x)

PART 1

In the months that passed Chris had been able to keep up on email with a bit more regularity though it still took some time in between messages. Video calls were less frequent but you still had them. You stood back from your laptop and faced sideways, lifting your shirt to reveal the protrusion of your growing belly. 

His smile was bittersweet, wishing he could be there in person to watch you grow, to feel when the baby starts kicking. You were having a boy and decided to name him Oliver. After you first spoke Chris waited for you to tell your family first before he told his over email, and you followed up with a visit to see them.

His parents, Michael and Lori, were so happy to see you again. They always knew you and Chris were close but now with a grandchild on the way they were thrilled. Along with your parents they offered help immediately, everyone overwhelming you with to-do lists and essential shopping you hadn’t thought about at that point.

“My dad’s going to help make the storage room a nursery.”

Your apartment was technically a one bedroom but there was a small room adjacent to yours you’ve been using as extra space to hold anything random you couldn’t find a spot for anywhere else. It was on the narrow side and currently overcrowded with junk, not the most picturesque nursery but it would have to do for now, as soon as you get rid of things to make space. 

“I wish I was there to help you,” he sighed, not speaking solely about helping you clean. “We’ll be descending for Mars soon so I won’t be able to keep in touch until we get back on the Hermes.” 

You understood. Chris would be there for about a month and you assumed it would take a little longer to hear back from him once they got back on board to begin their journey back. 

It was an unassuming morning at home. You were trying to find a comfortable position on your couch, adjusting the cushion you bought for extra support. You’re tired, finding it harder to fall asleep comfortably with a bigger belly. At 24 weeks your baby was apparently practicing to be a soccer player, his kicks growing stronger every day. You loved this part of pregnancy but you also couldn’t deny how terrible you felt. Your feet started swelling, your skin was itchy and you thought you were going crazy every time you tried to read but the words were blurring. Changes were expected but not in the way you always thought. 

A news report breaks on TV, a red banner that flashes words that have your heart beating rapidly – ARES III ASTRONAUTS COMING HOME. Tears flood your eyes as you hear the news, Mark Watney is dead. Nausea washes over your body in waves and you clutch your stomach, forgetting to breathe until you hear that Chris was safe. You exhale with relief though your heart aches for the crew and Mark’s family. You rubbed your belly in gentle circles, speaking softly to let Oliver know that Daddy was alright and he was coming home. 

It was late December when Chris finally had a chance to call you. Tears glisten in his eyes as he sees you, thanking you for the picture you emailed him from your latest sonogram. The 3D technology showed a clear picture of Oliver’s sweet face and Chris longed to meet him. Your belly had grown as well, with less than three months to go before your due date. 

The nursery was complete and you really owed a lot to your family and Chris’ for helping it come together. Chloe arranged a baby shower which helped fill the nursery with everything you needed, from drawers full of diapers to a wardrobe of clothes, a lot of space themed outfits you couldn’t wait to send Chris pictures of. 

Though you were overjoyed at everyone being there it was hard to keep up a smile. Everyone knew the situation and there was no way getting around the fact that he wouldn’t be home for another year. Still you pushed on and tried not to dwell on what you couldn’t change.

“Wow,” Chris marveled as you showed him your bump. “You’re so much bigger since I last saw you.” The flat, unamused expression you shot Chris made him quickly stutter on his words. “I meant your bump, it’s… you look beautiful, I promise.” You smiled a little, trusting him even if you didn’t quite believe it all the time. 

Catching up came to a halt when Chris began to open up about what happened. You knew it was coming. It was ubiquitous in the news cycle but hearing it from Chris directly made your stomach churn. You wished you could be there, to wipe away his tears and hold him close as he mourned for his friend. You wished even more that you could tell him the truth… Mark was alive. 

You received communication from NASA just before the public learned about it though you were specifically instructed not to tell Chris about the information. According to them the crew needed to focus on their mission home and honestly you thought it was a bunch of bullshit. You felt nauseous the whole time speaking to Chris, trying to hide the truth you so desperately wanted to tell him. Lying was not something you and Chris ever did to each other and every second you held your tongue felt like you were betraying all the years of your friendship. 

When the call ended you shut your laptop, hanging your head low and breaking down into tears. It was a deep, messy faced cry with guttural sobs. You were crying for everything. For Mark, mistakenly left to die on a planet of isolation, for Chris and lying to his face, for Oliver who can’t have his father around like you wanted him to be.

As time went on you felt better, emailing and speaking to Chris whenever he could. It’s February and your heart feels lighter as you await the video connection. You try not to get sentimental with Valentine’s Day having just passed. You and Chris are not anything officially, just two adults who have known each other their whole lives having a baby… but the idea doesn’t scare you. 

You think back to your thirtieth birthday and what would have happened if you were single. Would Chris have mentioned the promise? It’s a silly thought. He was so busy with his career he probably wouldn’t have gone through with it but you can’t help thinking about the “what if.” And now you were single, single and pregnant with his child, so what if…

Your thoughts are cut off immediately when you actually see Chris. His eyes were rimmed red, eyes glistening with tears that made the tiny red veins scattered across the whites of his eyes look like they were bleeding.

“Mark is alive,” his voice shuddered through a heaving sob. 

Your mouth dropped open as you listened in shock. How does he know? 

Chris rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, eyes squeezing tight as he exhaled another heavy sigh. “I’m the one that called it, did you know that? I told Commander Lewis he was dead and they knew…” 

His words dropped, his voice failing to speak but Chris’ grief turned to anger just as quickly. “They knew… they knew for two goddamn months that he was alive! Do you know how that feels?”

Your heart was breaking for him even more and there was nothing you could do but offer words of comfort as he vented. “Chris I’m so sorry. Who told you?”

“Mitch Henderson, our flight director, he– wait.” Chris’ body stiffened, eyes narrowing at the screen. “What do you mean who? Did… did you know?”

You dropped your head in shame, unable to answer him in words.

“You knew? Y/N look at me!” he shouted. 

Your head snapped up to see Chris’ nostrils flaring, jaw clenched tight. “You knew my friend was alive and you didn’t tell me?” he grit through his teeth, anger burning hotter than the sun. 

“I’m sorry Chris, I couldn’t.” 

He scoffed, cutting off your explanation. His tone raised to a level he’s never taken with you before. “You couldn’t what, Y/N? You looked me in the eye and lied to me about everything!”

Though Chris may have been justified in his anger it shouldn't have been directed at you. Just as quickly you retorted, “I’m not the only one Chris! Everyone knows, your parents, Chloe; this isn’t on me. NASA told us not to say anything to distract you.”

“Oh but telling me you’re pregnant wasn’t a distraction?” he snapped.

Chris knew he made a mistake but it was too late, the words came out and he couldn’t take them back. He watched you sink in your chair, your lips beginning to quiver. You dropped your head down to hide the tears but he could see them leaving wet puddles on the fabric of your shirt. 

He was upset, feeling guilty about leaving Mark stranded even though he knows there was nothing he could have done. His biometer was damaged, he thought… they all thought he was dead and if they didn’t leave they’d all have died too. There was nothing he could do to change the past but this isn’t what he wanted. 

Chris was angry and frustrated with everything. He wanted his friend to be safe on the Hermes, he wanted this mission to be over, he wanted… to be with you. You were due in three weeks and the closer the date got the more he hated being up in space when all he wanted was to be by your side. 

“Y/N… Y/N please… I’m sorry,” he sniffled, wiping away fresh tears that began to fall. “I didn’t mean to take this out on you… please…”

Tears still fell as you lifted your head slowly towards the screen to find Chris looking just as upset as you were. You cleared your throat, wiping the wetness away from your cheek as you spoke, “If you don’t want to do this–”

“No!” he cut you off immediately, “Y/N please, I was wrong. I was upset and I didn’t mean that. I want this more than anything. I’m sorry.”

The sincerity was clear in the depths of his eyes, staring at you as if he was unworthy of your gaze. You took a moment to think of what he’s going through; the world had time to process everything that was happening with Mark but for Chris this was new and upsetting and you understood.

“I’m sorry too. I never wanted to lie to you.”

“Stop, you don’t have to apologize, I was an asshole.” Chris immediately stops your protests and you let him, feeling yourself smile again the longer you continue to speak. “I miss you a lot, do you know that?” His smile returned as he spoke, asking how you were feeling with your upcoming due date.

Your smile stretches wider across your face. “I miss you too. I’m…” The smile curbs a bit as you let out a sigh. “I’m nervous honestly, excited but scared I guess, I don’t know. I know it’s unrealistic and maybe even a bit selfish to say but I feel like if you were here I’d be a lot better.”

He apologizes again though you find yourself doing the same, not meaning to add to the guilt he already lives with. “I wish I could be there but I know you’re going to get through it, and Oliver already has the best mom in the world.” 

Your mouth gasped open and you placed your hand on your bump. “He just kicked when you said that, I’m not even kidding!” 

“See, it’s true,” he grinned widely. 

There was a faint noise in the background and you saw Chris looking off to the side. When he turned back to face the screen you could tell by the tension in his face that he was needed for something. 

“I have to go now, but… I love you Y/N.”

Though you’ve heard those words so many times before and have spoken them yourself, this time they felt different. You wondered if he meant to put that new emotion behind it and if you felt the same.

There wasn’t much time to ponder these thoughts as two weeks later you were in the hospital, with your mom and Chloe by your side getting you through labor. It was an excruciating ordeal with contractions that were so intense you were in tears. They helped you breathe through them, letting you squeeze their hands as you received an epidural and finally a few hours later it was time to push. Chloe recorded the birth over your shoulder for Chris and with a strangled cry Oliver came into the world. 

Tears of joy ran down your cheeks as you held him against you. He was beautiful and you could see so much of Chris in him already. A bittersweet sob wracked through you, wishing he was there. 

Chris called the whole crew in to see photos of Oliver as he opened his email. There were a ton, his family making sure they took pictures from every angle. There were close ups of his little toes, pictures of him sleeping and Chris’ favorites of you holding him.

“Congratulations Beck!” “Welcome to fatherhood.” “He’s beautiful.” 

Chris saved some things for himself like Oliver’s birth and a special message you sent him. The phone was held out in front of you, the unforgiving hospital lights showing off how tired you looked but to Chris you were beautiful and shining as bright as the stars.

“We did it.” Your voice was soft and strained, but you still pushed on to speak to him. The camera flipped towards the bassinet beside your bed with Oliver sleeping peacefully. “Say hi to Daddy,” you whispered softly. There were a few moments of silence watching him sleep, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle as Oliver’s mouth twitched. “I can’t wait for you to meet him Chris,” the camera flipped around again, “I know you’re going to be an amazing father. I love you so much.” 

When the video ended Chris couldn’t help but kiss the screen, wishing it was your lips that his were pressed against. He’s eagerly counting the days and soon enough he would be.

Chris sat uncomfortably in his chair, elbow resting on the glossy white table as his hand covers his mouth, hiding the worry and tension of his lips. He feels like he swallowed a bag of rocks, his stomach is tense and tight, cramping in all the worst ways. He tried to hide it, shifting in his chair as he listens to his Commander lay out a plan to save Mark.

It goes directly against NASA’s orders and he’s not sure what the consequences would be for mutiny but he doesn’t care about that, not if it means they can rescue their friend.

“...If we do everything perfectly we add 533 days to our mission, 533 more days before we see our families again, 533 days of unplanned space travel where anything could go wrong.. If it’s mission critical, we die.”

He shifts again, his stomach twisting in all directions as he ponders what to do. He missed your pregnancy, Oliver’s birth. He could be home in six months and his heart swells at the thought. He is ready to happily spend his nights changing diapers and preparing bottles, bonding with his son and allowing you the sleep you need. 

Chris’ shoulders slump. He doesn’t know much about fatherhood but he does know he wants to be someone Oliver could look up to and he wouldn’t be that person if he didn’t stay true to his heart and make a tough decision. 

“Well, it has to be unanimous,” Commander Lewis said, scanning her head to lock eyes with each member of the crew. 

It would be another year and a half before Chris saw you and Oliver and the thought hurts him deeply but he knows it’s for the best. “Let’s go get him,” he said, his voice wavering between excitement and trepidation. He knew this was right and he hoped you would believe him. 

Once the Hermes corrected their course it was official and NASA knew they would have to send them the resupply probe for their extended mission. Now all Chris had to do was tell you.

It was hard to watch the tears stream down your face as you broke down, you weren’t even able to wipe them with Oliver sleeping in your arms. Chris is crying too, looking at the sweet face of the son he has to wait even longer to meet. You know why he’s doing this and you can’t exactly be mad at him. Even growing up Chris was always the person to do the right thing no matter the consequence. 

“Y/N… if anything happens…”

“No!” you cut him off, letting out your anguish as softly as you could so you didn’t disturb Oliver. “Chris, don’t say that.” Your eyes pleaded with him, hating that he made you even consider the worst.

“Please, if anything happens I want you to know that you and Oliver…” His voice gives out, even Chris has a hard time accepting a very possible reality. “I made sure you’ll be taken care of.” 

He stared straight through you and you understood what he meant. Adjusting your grip on Oliver, you quickly wiped the wetness from your cheek and rubbed at your nose. “You have to come back to us, promise me.”

“I promise,” he replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He wants to keep his promise but it’s not something he can guarantee. Oliver stirs in your arms, his face twisting as he lets out a piercing cry as if he also knew the stakes at hand.

You soothe your son as best as you could, feeling he needed a diaper change. Before saying goodbye you looked into Chris’ eyes through the screen, wishing you could reach out and cup his cheek as you proclaimed, “I love you, Chris.” You meant every word, more than ever before. 

His cheeks pulled into a warm smile as he said it back. The screen goes dark and he sits quietly starting his countdown over for the day he can say it to you again in person.

A year has passed and you’re sitting on the floor with Oliver in your lap, holding a book out in front of you. This was your nightly routine before bed, letting him pick out a story from his little shelf against the wall and reading it together. He was very interested at this age, helping you turn the pages or pointing at the pictures that you would describe and try to get him to repeat.

He’s grown so much and every day you find more ways he looks like Chris, especially when he scrunches his nose, putting up a fuss when eating bananas. 

Oliver’s first birthday was two months ago, it was a small party at Chris’ parents house filled with cake and presents but the best gift was that Chris was able to call in. You cried immediately, holding Oliver up to the screen and pointing at Chris. “Dada! Look Oliver it’s Dada!”

There were pictures of Chris in your house and every time you passed them you would show Oliver, hoping the connection would eventually sink in. Oliver grinned at the screen showing off four tiny teeth in the center of his smile. “Oliver it’s Daddy!” Chris said, waving his hands. “Hey buddy. I love you Oliver. I’ll see you soon.” 

It didn’t feel real that Chris was actually coming home this year since he’s been gone for so long. You’ve been keeping in touch, emailing him as many pictures and videos of Oliver as you could. Everyone loved the professional shots taken when he was six months old, dressed in pajamas printed with planets on them, holding a bottle shaped like a spaceship. In others he was dressed as an astronaut tethered to a bright and colorful rocketship laying against a starry background made to look like he was floating in space, just like his Dad.

With Oliver in bed you went to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat though you could barely focus. You were on edge, watching the live stream of Mark Watney’s rescue on your phone. 

Your head lifted to the TV as you waited like the rest of the world, watching the rescue in real time. It took an hour before there was confirmation that Mark was safely on board and the relief brought tears to your eyes. The whole world was celebrating and you couldn’t imagine how happy Chris and his crew were to get him back and soon enough Chris would be home too.

While some people were opening up presents on Christmas morning you were opening suitcases and getting ready to pack things for yourself and Oliver to fly to Houston to see Chris. The crew landed two days ago and seeing footage of him being pulled from the capsule brought tears to your eyes. You pointed to the screen for Oliver, “Who’s that? That’s…” 

His face lit up, his little hand slapping at the screen as his squeaky voice said, “It’s Daddy!”

“That’s right. Good job!” you beamed, planting a kiss to his soft cheek.

Oliver did a lot of growing up in the last year. He was a few months shy of two, a little ball of energy that brought smiles everywhere he went. He was playful and kind, he loved to splash bubbles during bathtime, and wiggle his body to music. 

Chris was able to see his emerging personality whenever you spoke to each other. Oliver was shy at first and a little confused, looking back at you instead of the screen as Chris was trying to talk to him. It took a lot of patience but you got there, pointing at Chris and saying “It’s Daddy!” enough times for Oliver to finally recognize him. Chris would smile and wave, calling him his little buddy and Oliver waved back. He was hesitant at first but regular video calls normalized their relationship and soon Oliver would press his lips to your laptop, leaving a big wet kiss on the screen meant for his Dad. 

It was hard knowing Chris was back on Earth but you couldn't see him yet. He was undergoing physical evaluations and you were certain more testing would be necessary in the future considering he and the Ares III crew have set a record, spending nearly three times the amount in space than ever before. You chuckled to yourself, knowing Chris would probably want to take on the study himself although part of you knew he was more anxious to spend time with you and Oliver, a thought that made your heart swell.

A week later and you were at the Johnson Space Center, in a waiting room meant for the family of returning astronauts. Oliver is playing with Aunt “Coey” as he called her, holding his spacecraft toy and making it fly above armrests of the row of blue chairs you’re so tired of staring at. Whenever you heard noise in the hallway you quickly rushed towards Oliver, brushing his hair in place with your hands and adjusting the bottom of his striped blue shirt. 

This time you were right to be prepared as a man opened the door. You all scrambled to stand up, holding Oliver in front of you with your hands on his shoulders. The man nodded, giving a quick smile and suddenly you felt overcome with nerves. After two and a half years you were finally about to see Chris again and your heart was beating wildly. You tried to steady your breaths, holding a nervous smile as you waited for him to walk through the door.

The moment he did you were overcome with emotion, bursting out with tears of joy, a smile stretching from ear to ear. He was here, he was actually here. Chris had a smile that beamed as bright as the stars, his eyes glistening with tears as he looked at you and Oliver who had grown restless of standing and made his way into his grandpa’s arms. 

Chris walked unsteadily towards you, thinking Oliver could probably walk better than he can at the moment as he was still adjusting to gravity. You ran forward meeting him more than halfway, throwing your arms around him for a crushing hug. As you cried against his chest your own legs nearly gave out when you felt his arms around you. 

“I missed you so much,” you muffled against his shirt, pulling yourself back to stare into his eyes once more. 

“I love you,” he said, a clear admission of the feelings in his heart, no longer meant with platonic innocence. 

You were always close and while the two of you never saw each other as anything but friends it certainly surprised everyone around you when you didn’t end up together. Things were different now and you both felt the shift in your relationship since he’s been away. It was more than the bond you had by having a child together; Chris always had a place in your heart and you wondered why it took this long to see it. 

“I love you too,” you cried again, feeling the relief of his lips against yours as they pressed together for a sweet and long overdue kiss. 

Lori kissed her son, hugging him quickly as did Chloe who was eager to record Chris and Oliver’s first official introduction on her phone. Michael placed him down and you kneeled beside Oliver. Chris eased himself down, feeling his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. In the last few years he’s been through countless stressful situations, none of which were more nerve wracking than meeting his son for the first time. 

There’s a nervous look on Oliver’s face as a room full of people are all watching him and he turns to look at you, his eyes pleading for help. You reassured him that everything was okay and like the many times you’ve done in the past you pointed towards Chris. Your voice wavered as the words you spoke bubbled out of your throat, “Oliver, this is your Daddy.”

Chris smiled softly, keeping a short distance between himself and Oliver because he didn’t want to overwhelm him. It was clear Oliver was unsure of what to do, looking back and forth between you and Chris. 

“Hey buddy, it’s me. I’m your Daddy,” Chris said and finally Oliver’s face lit up with recognition. 

He grinned, waving to Chris in front of him as they had done through the screen so many times before. With a proud smile Oliver picked up the hem of his shirt, exposing his tummy and strung together a sentence of mostly recognizable words that meant, “I have a belly button!”

A tear squeezed out from the corner of Chris’ eyes as he laughed, “Yeah you do buddy!”

The ice was broken between them and Chris looked over his shoulder at someone who discreetly handed him something behind his back.

“I’m so happy to meet you Oliver. This is for you,” Chris said, handing over a teddy bear dressed as an astronaut. 

He jumped as he took the bear, squeezing it in his arms with the happiest smile. With some encouragement you had him thank Chris and Oliver pursed his lips forward to kiss Chris’ cheek. Oliver let Chris hug him and he smiled through his tears, finally experiencing what he’s been imagining for years, holding his son in his arms. 

Chris thought his days among the stars were over but together with you and Oliver he’s surrounded by a whole galaxy of love. Each day shines brighter than the last and Chris has no doubt that one day soon he will finally keep his promise.

[storiesforallfandoms]

we’re too stupid ~ the vlog squad

word count: 1885

request?: yes!

@iawaythrown​  “May I ask for a vlog squad x popular youtube reader

The reader has their own very popular youtube channel/podcast like a scientific/space podcast. (Like a Vsauce\GameTheory channel) The vlog squad and the reader fan base (somehow) always wants them to collab. One day David says "It won't happen because the reader probably doesn't like us." This ends up getting everyone on the podcast.”

description: when their favorite youtubers show interest in being on their podcast, they jump at the chance to invite them on

pairing: vlog squad x gender neutral!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“You know what I’ve been listening to a lot lately?” Scotty asked David on the newest vlog David had uploaded. You were watching the vlog on your TV while you prepared to upload the newest episode of your podcast. You had a drink half raised to your lips when Scott responded to his own question, “The Spaced Out podcast.”

Your drink nearly slipped from your hand at the mention of your podcast. You were sure you had imagined it, so you went back and repeated the part just to be sure. The name of your podcast slipped from Scott’s lips again and you had to pause the video to scream with excitement.

When you placed the video again, David spoke next. “Oh wait, is that the one about space and shit? You played it for me before.”

“Yeah! Man, it’s so interesting. I could honestly listen to the host talk about space all day,” Scott said.

“He keeps bringing it up during the Scottcast, too,” Jeff commented. “I’m starting to think he’d rather co-host that podcast instead of our own.”

“Man, I’d love to be on that podcast!”

You could hardly contain your excitement. Your favorite YouTubers knew who you were?! They knew your podcast?! You had to be dreaming, you were sure of it.

“There’s no way they’d ever have us on the podcast,” David was saying. “We’re too stupid and immature, they’d probably hate us.”

“Speak for yourself!” Zane, dressed in some weird costume for a bit, called, causing the boys to laugh together.

This gave you an idea. You put your laptop aside and opened Instagram on your phone. You searched the name “David Dobrik” and went to his DMs.

~~~~~~

A week later, your podcasting room was filled with 11 extra people than there normally was. The room was only small with a handful of seats, so a lot of your guests were squeezed in together or basically sat on one another. No one seemed to mind, though. Every single person in the room was super excited to be there.

“What’s up all my space geeks? Welcome back to another episode of The Spaced Out podcast, the podcast where we discuss super nerdy space things,” you started with your usual intro. “Today’s episode is a little different, though, as today I am joined by not one, not two, not even three, but eleven special guests. You heard me right, eleven. Special guests, wanna say hi?”

All eleven of your guests rang out with a chorus of, “Hello!”s at the one time, making it all come out as just a shouting mess. You laughed and waved a hand to silence them.

“In case you had trouble understanding what they were saying,” you said, “my guests today are David, Scotty, Toddy, Zane, Erin, Carly, Natalie, Heath, Mariah, Corinna, and Jeff, better known as a large chunk of YouTube’s biggest vlogging group: The Vlog Squad!”

The Vlog Squad cheered at their introduction as you just clapped your hands.

“Can I just say,” Heath said once the noise started to die down, “that I am impressed with how fast you said our names and how easy it was. You didn’t even stutter once.”

“I’ll be honest, when David told me exactly who was coming I prepared myself for this,” you admitted. “I’ve never had so many guests on the show before. Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever had any guests at all. I don’t really know anyone in my real life that’s as interested in space and science as I am.”

“To be fair, none of us are, either,” Jeff joked, causing the room to laugh.

“Yeah, you picked the wrong people to be on your podcast,” Corinna added.

“You don’t have to have any sort of interest to be on the podcast, really. As long as you don’t mind me talking about my nerdy space obsession every now and then anyone is welcome on the podcast.”

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure everyone else could hear it. You were shocked that you were managing to remain so calm in that moment. Your favorite YouTubers were sitting right there in front of you, being guests on your podcast, and somehow you were acting as though they were just friends that you had convinced to come on the podcast.

“Is there any cool space facts you can share with us to get the ball rolling?” David asked.

“Dude, I’ve made over 300 episodes of this podcast that is literally all about space, you gotta narrow down your parameters there,” you told him.

“What’s your favorite space fact then?”

You thought for a moment, going through all the little facts you had in your mind. There was so much you could share with them that you really didn’t know where to start.

“Okay,” you said finally, “I have one. I think David will like this cause we all know he’s made of money: there is a planet that is called 55 Cancri e. It is over twice the size of Earth and it is potentially made of diamonds.”

They all gasped and made comments of astonishment at the same time at this.

“Like, literally made of diamonds?” Corinna asked.

“It’s hard to know for sure. It’s roughly 41 lightyears away so it’s not exactly easy to reach, but they think it’s made of graphite and diamonds,” you explained. “My favorite fact, and one that’s a little scary, is that it’s actually completely silent in space. Like not a single sound, because atmospheres around planets are what contain the soundwaves to make noise.”

“I told you,” David said, turning to face Scott. “We’re too stupid to be on this podcast.”

You all laughed together. “You guys aren’t stupid! I was just fascinated with space as a child and my parents let me feed into that fascination. They always bought me books about space and brought me to visit certain space centers. I was that kid that always said she was gonna grow up and be an astronaut. Instead, I just talk about them on the internet.”

Everything was going so well. You were getting to know your guests and they kept urging you to tell them facts and stories about space. You knew a lot of what you were telling them you had talked about on the podcast before, so devoted listeners probably wouldn’t be too interested in a lot of what you had to say in that episode, but you didn’t mind too much. You just loved to see the looks of astonishment on everyone’s faces as you continued to tell them fact after fact.

When you came to a segment you did in the podcast in which you would read messages from fans, you decided to your guests choose which messages to read and respond to. David took the tablet you used for this first and read through the thousands of messages you received between uploading your most recent episode and recording the current one.

“Are you going to talk about the new 4K pictures of Mars?” he read.

“Oh my God, yes!” you responded. “That will be next episode. I haven’t looked at them all yet because I wanna have a live reaction to them, but I did see one picture and it looks absolutely stunning.”

“It blew my mind how it just looked like a desert here,” Carly commented. “Mars is a lot more like Earth than we think. Sucks that we’ll never be able to live there or anything.”

“I don’t think we’ll never be able to live there, but I don’t think it’ll happen in our lifetimes,” you commented. “But that’s a whole other thing, let’s move on from that.”

“What has been your favorite space related story of the past year?” Natalie read the message she had picked.

“I don’t know if it’s my favorite, but it’s definitely one that I was very interested in reading: a star just vanished in 2020,” you responded. “Apparently that’s something that can just happen, stars can just suddenly disappear and no one knows where they went. This star from the Kinman dwarf galaxy that shined almost brighter than the sun just vanished between 2011 and 2020, and they have no explanation for it. That story stuck with me the most cause I just find it funny that a star that bright just vanished and no one can figure out where it went.”

They continued reading you messages for a while before passing your tablet back to you.

“While I wish I could sit here with you guys and talk about space and your vlogs forever, unfortunately we are running out of time,” you said. “I want to thank the Vlog Squad again for joining me on this episode, and I hope I didn’t bore you guys to death with my stories and facts.”

“Not at all!” David spoke. “I can’t speak for everyone, but I really enjoyed myself. Listening to you talk was really interesting.”

The rest of the group agreed. You tried not to blush from all their kind words.

“I always wanna thank our sponsors again. As always I appreciate them supporting my show, and of course I want you guys, the listeners. Your constant support for the show means so much to me. If you wanna hear more fun facts about space that you’ll never use in live, follow me on my social media. If you’re not already following the podcast, follow the podcast! I upload episodes every Friday, and if you want to be involved in the show be sure to send me your space related messages and maybe I’ll read them out on the next episode. Have a good weekend, little space geek out!”

You ended the recording and the group almost cheered for you. You smiled and stood to thank them again for coming on the show. You were shocked when Corinna pulled you into a hug, which caused the rest of the group to hug you one by one.

“This was the most fun I think I’ve ever had,” Erin commented. “Would you be open to having more guests on the show? I’d love to come back and to just listen to you talk for a full hour.”

The rest of the squad agreed. You really didn’t think you could feel any more excited or on cloud nine, but they kept surprising you.

“I would definitely be open to having guests again,” you replied. “If you guys ever wanna be on the show again, just send me a DM. I’d love to have you!”

“We’d love to have you on the vlogs sometime, too, if you’d be open for that,” David told you.

There they go again, making you feel like you had passed cloud nine and now were on a completely different planet with excitement.

“Y-Yeah!” you managed. “Of course, I’d love that!”

After some more small talk, you showed the group out and thanked them again for coming. Once you were sure they were gone and unable to see you, you began jumping for joy and exclaiming with excitement. You couldn’t believe it! You had just hosted a podcast with your favorite people, and they asked you to join them for filming sometime?!

“This is the best day of my life!”

[wandsandwheezes]

pumpkin eater | F.W

Summary // Fred has been in a loveless marriage for as long as he can put up with, he truly thought he loved his wife until it quite literally fell into his arms.

WARNINGS // sorry hens this is pretty angsty but it has a happy ending, mentions of sex but nothing detailed, crying, cheating, divorce??, the big sad

A/N // don't ask me what prompted me to write this because i simply do not know ✨

The one thing Fred hated more than anything was the never-ending routine he was stuck in. He got up, made breakfast, kissed his wife goodbye, only to work late, come home and sleep it off, ready to start again. Fred was stuck In a loveless marriage, a wife that wouldn't sleep with him, she hardly acknowledged any of his touches, never responded with 'I love you'. He knew that as soon as he was at work another man was making her moan, fucking her senselessly into the sheets that Fred bought, in the home he owned.

That thought didn't make him angry, just sad, because he loved his wife. At least he thought he did - what he knew love to be, he felt that when he saw his wife, even if she truly didn't love him back. After the wedding and the honeymoon period, the relationship started to dwindle, The bed they once shared was missing her presence. Fred slept alone, over thinking about all the things he may have done to push her away or make her stop loving him, but the truth is, she never did love him, not that Fred would ever know that. 

Just like any normal day, the sun rose, as did the red haired man, he showered, dressed and ate, he went to find his wife, give her a kiss goodbye, but she was nowhere to be found, her bed was made neatly, the shower wasn't on and she wasn't sat in the dining room. Fred sighed, It was the first day he hadn't kissed her goodbye in what felt like years.

It was a really quiet day at the shop, so quiet that George, his twin, had sent Fred on the hunt for some decent lunch in London, Fred hadn't even made it out of Diagon Alley and his thoughts were already racing, the man's head was so in the clouds, he only realised the force he had bumped into someone, when is arms instinctively went to wrap around whoever was falling, in an attempt to save them the embarrassment. 

When Fred Weasley looked down at who he had caught in his arms, he swore he had never seen anyone so beautiful; windswept hair, gleaming eyes and soft, kissable lips. He could hardly stammer out a hello, he felt a spark he had never felt when looking at his wife, a woman who didn't love him, but when he looked at you, he thought about how happy he would be, like a whole life with you, with pure giggles laughter and love. For the first time in his life Fred felt what love was supposed to feel like, and he felt it while he held a woman whom he didn't even know the name of. The mischievous boyish whit from school was the only thought that plagued his mind as he spoke his first words to you, "Falling for me already?" 

Hearing you laugh was music to his ears, he didn't want to let you go, he wanted to hold you forever. "I'm Fred Weasley," he offered his hand out for you to shake, you smiled, softly. "Y/N," you replied, "I think we've gone past the handshake stage considering I've already been in your arms." He smiled, his heart skipping a beat as you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, you were funny and Godric your laugh was immaculate. 

"This is so forward, but how would you feel about getting Coffee with me?" You asked softly, You'd be stupid not to, when you'd literally fallen into the arms of a man who you'd felt a spark like you never had before. You watched his face light up like you had never seen before. The coffee shop was quiet but beautiful, he paid for your drinks, but when he handed over the money, your eye caught the wedding band on his finger, your heart sinking. You now felt stupid, falling quite literally, for a married man. Fred caught your eye, which was intently following his hand and he realised where your thoughts were trailing to. 

Sitting down with Fred for more than an hour had told you everything you needed to know, he spoke candidly about his wife sleeping with another man, how he went to bed alone, how he felt lonely and un loved. Your heart broke to hear him say that, how could anyone look at him and not love him, He was witty, intelligent, bold, charming and not to mention he was damn right attractive. "I understand If you don't want to see me again after this," he was bowing his head as he finished his drink, you grabbed his hand shaking your head. "Call me crazy, but when I was in your arms, I felt a spark like I never had before, I'm not letting you slip away this easily, Freddie." 

Hearing you call him that made him crash and fall for you even harder. You exchanged numbers, pressing a kiss to your forehead before parting ways, letting him make his way back to the shop. The whole walk he was buzzing off of sparks, his heart was finally beating for something, someone. Now he'd tasted what love could feel like, he couldn't get enough and he was already craving more. 

"Fred, this food better be amazing the time you took getting-" George was rambling, hungrily as Fred stepped into his twin's office. A smile was plastered over his face, he looked at his brother with all seriousness. "I found her, I found the one."

George had never seen his twin smile or gush like the way he was doing with you. "Freddie, I think you know what you need to do, go do it. " George nodded at his brother, before swiftly leaving the office. As fast as he could, Fred was apparating back to his home, a home he hoped he would share with you one day. 

When he entered his home, he didn't expect to hear the sounds of soft moans and slapping skin, the sounds his wife used to make for him, he felt sick to his stomach, a sick part of him listened in, she was faking it, putting on a show even. The man fucking her wasn't even doing a good enough job to make her actually cum. Fred was laughing, it was pathetic to hear the guy splutter and groan as he so obviously came without as much of bringing her to an orgasm. Fred heard his wife's soft voice from behind the door, "You need to go, he'll be home soon." His eyes widened and he darted for his bedroom. 

He was sat on his bed, he heard the front door slam closed, indicating that the man had left, Fred decided to wait about 10 minutes before putting on his act, tiptoeing down the stairs and quietly opening the door, only to slam it closed again. "Honey, I'm home!" he shouted, just like usual pulling off his jacket, and hanging it up, he didn't expect to hear anything, or even have her acknowledge his presence, instead he heard quick footsteps, his wife running down the stairs to jump into his arms. She was peppering loveless kisses over his face, and he held her, feeling nothing but dirty because she didn't feel like you. 

"Oh Fred I've been thinking about you all day!" his eyebrow raised and he cocked his head to the side, "Oh yeah?" Fred recognised immediately what she was doing, she wanted to cum and she knew Fred could do that for her. Fred however didn't want to. "Please baby, I've been so desperate for you." she pleaded, hands reaching up to undo his tie. He pulled away. 

"I want you out." 

"You, What?-" 

"I said I fucking want you out."

"Fred you can't kick me out, I'm your wife!"

"You stopped being my wife the second you took your rings off to sleep with another man, of all things in my own house while I work, and the second you started sleeping on your own."

"But, I love you." 

"You don't. You never have and I- Just get out of my house." he sighed deeply, rushing up the stairs and into his bedroom, tears falling down his cheeks, all he wanted to do was call you. So he did. He was sobbing down the phone about what he'd done, what he'd seen. Your heart ached for him, ached to hear him laugh and see him smile again. "Don't cry over her, Freddie, I'll be there soon."

You were at his house quickly, he text you an address which was misspelled, but after some thought, you placed two and two together and were there. You apperated into the house, his wife long gone, leaving nothing but vacant space behind. You found a bedroom with drawers and cupboards left pulled open, you waved your wand, the room going back to normal, you called out softly. "Freddie?" As soon as he heard you his body picked up, finding solace in your hold, he hugged you.

You sat in content silence as your hand pushed his hair back gently, comforting him with as much physical touch as you could, you were mumbling gentle words of encouragement to him as your lips pressed to his temple. "You deserve to know what love feels like, Freddie." he sighed softly, his hand trailing from your arm to your neck, his eyes were locked with yours, as he spoke, "I know what love feels like, Darling, I felt that love the second I caught you in my arms, I knew you were the one." He pulled you in so that your faces were millimetres apart, he pressed a kiss to your nose, then both corners of your mouth before brushing his nose against yours cheekily. "You are a sappy git, aren't you?" you joked softly hearing his laugh once again. 

When he finally pressed his lips against yours, your whole world slotted into place, like the planets had finally aligned, like every breath was for this moment, a moment with him and you wanted nothing more than for it to last forever. Maybe true love did exist. 

taglist // @weasleysflowr ​ @gcdric ​ @theweasleysredhair ​ @hufflepuffgirly @whiz-bangs78 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @cappsikle ​ @minty-malfoy ​ @vivianweasley ​ @feetoffthetablee ​ @thisismynerdyself ​ @vogueweasley @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 ​ @pandaxnienke ​ @wonderful-writer @loony-loopy-lupinn @hopemalfoyweasley

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Here’s what I have done of that other fic I started. I want to make it a much longer one-shot, and I will if anyone likes it. It’s based on this post that has stuck with me for ages, but I only really started thinking about recently.

~^~

Lucas didn’t know what to expect.

Realistically, he didn’t think his parents were suited to this type of responsibility. His dad made the indisputable point that they could do with the extra money. Lucas didn’t bother telling him that might not work out if the student left them within a week. They could barely take care of their own child, and yet they thought it was a perfect idea to bring another into the house.

Well, not exactly a child. He couldn’t decide if that fact was better or worse. Lucas got along fine with people; he had a good group of friends, and most of their classmates liked him. He could mesh with people he had just met at parties or the skatepark or even school. Acquaintances were easy to make. People his age didn’t really scare him.

Maybe he didn’t have the best confidence around pretty boys. But none of them scared him as much as Kes, and Kes was his best friend, so he thought he was probably doing pretty well in that case, too.

He wasn’t sure how living with someone else his age (and a stranger at that) would be. His confidence and his comfort levels were feeling low. Someone from another country, someone that he’d have to live with and go to school with and exist with on a very regular basis—that was a little frightening. That had Lucas feeling unprecedented levels of stress in the week before the exchange student arrived.

It didn’t help that they ended up being the most beautiful boy Lucas had ever seen.

~^~

Lucas could admit on sight that Jens Stoffels was one of those pretty boys that left him tongue-tied and sweaty-palmed any time he was forced to interact. Which, considering their situation, happened to be quite often. On the other hand, he didn’t want to admit that Jens Stoffels scared him more than Kes. (But Lucas was starting to think he most certainly did.)

He had been standing in the hallway, lingering awkwardly, when his father had opened the door for the first time. He caught sight of the tall boy with the dark hair and sharp jaw and instantly felt his breath catch. He watched the boy stumble through a greeting, a clunky mister-and-surname hello that was met with a too enthusiastic response of, “Please, call me Hugo. You must be Jens.”

Lucas didn’t have the strength to tease his father that of course, this was Jens, they’d been expecting him for the past month. He was too busy staring to do much of anything else. He had no right, in the moment, to tease anyone.

Then Jens’s eyes met his, and Lucas watched him falter.

Then Jens smiled, and Lucas was gone.

Hugo took it as a reminder to beckon his son forward and urge him to take Jens’s bags. They both ignored Jens’s protests, which trailed off rather abruptly when Lucas’s fingertips traced the back of his hands when grabbing the handles.

Lucas didn’t think he imagined the way Jens’s breath hitched as he glanced up at the boy, but he didn’t know what to do with it. The moment went ignored.

“Hey,” Jens greeted, low and hesitant, and Lucas realised he was scowling.

It was easy to soften his expression in the face of Jens’s nerves, but it was harder than he expected to smile. The horde of butterflies in his stomach and buzz of static in his head left him able to do little more than nervously lick his lips and nod. “Hey.”

“This is Lucas,” his father introduced him, as oblivious to his son’s state as ever. “He’ll show you to his room. We have your bed already set up, and he cleared some space. I hope you really don’t mind sharing.”

Jens offered Lucas another smile, wider than the first. “No, I really don’t mind.”

~^~

Jens took in the bunk beds with a mixture of confusion and amusement. He glanced over at Lucas. “I thought you were an only child?”

“I am.” Lucas gestured vaguely. “It’s for—we changed it.”

“You went out and bought bunk beds?”

Lucas couldn’t help but smile slightly, now. “Well, I didn’t, no.”

Jens’s cheeks reddened, and he shifted the bag he still held onto to his other hand. “You know what I mean. Your parents.”

Lucas shrugged. “Another separate bed wouldn’t have fit. It doesn’t—you don’t mind, do you? I’ve been sleeping on the bottom, but we changed the sheets so you can take whichever—“

“Cool,” Jens cut him off, tossing his bag onto the top bunk and then hoisting himself up onto it. He barely avoided knocking his head into the ceiling. He raised his brows at Lucas. “Cosy.”

“Seriously, you can take the bottom.”

“I certainly can.” Jens nodded his agreement, and the glimmer in his eyes made Lucas shuffle on his feet. “But if it’s where you’d rather be, I won’t argue.”

Lucas stared at him for a moment, then realised he was doing it and quickly dragged his gaze away as Jens became more amused. He cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said loudly, ignoring Jens’s grin. “Cool. I can, uhm, show you the rest of the house, if you want.”

Jens nodded and lithely took two steps down the ladder to the floor. “Cool,” he repeated.

~^~

Dinner was a less awkward affair than Lucas expected. His mother was doing well and seemingly intent on proving it, brushing off Lucas’s offers of help and glaring at his looks and questions. He could tell Jens adored her instantly, and seemed more comfortable referring to her as Tess than he was using Hugo. Lucas had to admit, though, that his father was also on his best behavior, and Lucas himself was probably the most awkward person at the table.

It was just that, Jens was right beside him, the chairs tucked so close together at the small table that Lucas could feel his radiating warmth. He held himself stiffly in place so as not to lean towards it, and felt silly and uncomfortable in doing so.

“Are you nervous about starting on Monday, Jens?” Hugo asked, cutting through his food with half of his attention.

Tess huffed. “Of course he is. But that’s normal. And he’ll have Lucas looking after him.”

Jens didn’t seem to mind being spoken for. He glanced over at Lucas again instead, and Lucas diverted his gaze, cheeks flushing. He wasn’t, however, overly embarrassed. Jens had snuck just as many sideways looks at him.

“Actually,” Lucas said, then had to clear his throat. “You skate, right? I saw you brought a board.”

Jens nodded. “A little.”

“I was thinking we could go to the park tomorrow. You can meet Kes and Jayden.”

Hugo snorted, and Lucas shot him an unimpressed look. “What?” he demanded.

“No, nothing, nothing,” Hugo said, hasty. “It’s just a funny choice, if your goal is not overwhelming him on his first day here.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine.” Then, to Jens, “Really, they’re cool. Just a little excitable. You’ll be fine.”

Jens nodded again and smiled, small and secretive. “Sure. You’ll be looking after me, right?”

Lucas smiled down at his plate.

~^~

Lucas still hadn’t fully realised how awkward it would be until they were expected to go to bed. It became fairly obvious when he was standing lost in his own bedroom and Jens started stripping in front of him.

He made a noise in his throat, high and startled, and quickly looked away from sturdy shoulders and lithe legs. He curled his hands into fists and crossed his arms over his stomach, breathing carefully. After a second, he realised standing there like this was probably worse, and forced himself to move to his wardrobe, digging through the drawers for something to sleep in. When he turned around with a worn t-shirt and sweats, Jens was wearing a t-shirt and shorts and staring at him.

“Sorry,” Jens said, curious. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Lucas shook his head. “No,” he tried, then cleared his throat. “I just wasn’t…” He shook his head. “Why would I be uncomfortable?”

Jens eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. “Some people prefer their privacy. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He scratched at his arm, then added, “I hope you don’t feel put out. It’s probably weird opening your space like this.”

“It’s weird for you, too, isn’t it? You just got here,” Lucas shrugged again. He was being a terrible host. He was being terribly obvious.

“I mean, yeah. The whole thing is stressing me out more than I expected,” Jens admitted, laughing slightly. Lucas was terrible. “But I guess—I don’t really do awkward? I know we’re supposed to be a good match. So I guess I came with the idea already in my head that we’d be friends.”

Lucas stared at him.

Jens shifted awkwardly and gave a dry, lopsided smile. “But I guess it’s not the same on your side.”

“No,” Lucas blurted. Then, realising how that sounded, rushed to explain himself. “No, I—I hoped we’d be friends, too. We will be. I mean, I still want to be. Friends. You’re cool. It’s just that we only met, and it’s like, right into the deep end. But there’s nothing to say we won’t be friends.”

He was rambling. Of course. Jens didn’t do awkward, and Lucas was being the most awkward person on the planet. That wasn’t the way this was supposed to go.

How was this supposed to go again?

He’d never had a plan to start with, but considering all thoughts fled his mind at the first sight of Jens, he doubted it would have been much help. He was a mess.

And they’d just met.

Despite everything, Jens seemed pleasantly amused by his disastrous attempts at connecting. There was a lovely curl to his lips and an adorable tip of his head as he returned, “Okay. Good.”

He sounded so genuinely relieved, so contented at the thought of Lucas agreeing on his hopes of friendship, that Lucas couldn’t help but smile back.

Then Jens added, “Better to keep my pants on, though? At least until there’s a little more familiarity in place.”

Lucas wanted to die. He was going to die. Why was he so embarrassing? So clueless and so obvious at the same time? This was only the first day.

Jens could be here for the entire year.

“It’s sexist to assume shoulders are only sexual when they’re women’s,” Lucas said, trying to keep Jens’s jokingly serious tone, and quickly realising the response sounded better in his head. And that it probably didn’t seem all that joking, if his cheeks were as red as they felt.

But Jens laughed, and his eyes sparkled, and Lucas was truly and seriously fucked. Jens wiggled his eyebrows, said, “Can’t argue with that,” and pointedly squeezed Lucas’s shoulder on the way past, and oh no, Lucas was truly and seriously gay, wasn’t he?

Lucas mustered a tiny laugh in return, looking over his shoulder to watch Jens go. His sight caught on the still exposed calves, the dimples in the back of his knees, the ends of strong thighs, the curve of—

He whipped his gaze away and took another careful breath, and Jens simply continued down the hall to the bathroom, oblivious. Lucas stripped off his hoodie, recognising that this was the safest time to change, and told himself to get a grip.

Friends, he thought, with another breath.

Cool.

[nyrandrea]

Setting The Stage

My hyperfixation is set back on fnaf again in anticipation for Security Breach, so I’ve decided to write my own interpretation on how the game might begin! 

Summary: Gregory had always dreamed of going to Freddy Faxbear’s Mega Pizza Plex and meeting his heroes. But he somehow ends up getting more than he bargained for, and dreams start to turn into nightmares.

Originally planned as a oneshot but had to split it into two parts.Link to next chapter is down below! Also available to read on AO3 here!

Enjoy!

Walking into Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex for the first time was something that every kid in the world should experience, at least according to Gregory’s logic. 

And it was that logic – and a lot of puppy dog looks – that just about managed to work on his mom. Because here he was, finally standing in front of the colorful neon sign with his favorite animal mascots welcoming him in.  

It had taken a lot of begging and guilt-tripping but he wasn’t ashamed one bit, though his mother might have disagreed, especially when it came to the snivelling part. But hey, it wasn’t his fault she had worked late on his birthday, so she owed him. Big time. 

He vaguely recalled her grumbling about having to dip into her savings for this trip. 

So that meant that he only had today, and he had to make every second count. 

“So...” a voice spoke up from behind him. “Am I finally forgiven?” 

Gregory looked up to see his mom giving him ‘the look’, and to that he nodded profusely.  

“Good. After today you can finally leave me in peace,” she said, giving his hair a playful ruffle as they walked through the large sliding doors and into the mall. 

He decided to push it just a little bit further. 

“Can I get a Freddy plushie?” 

The little boy swore he could hear a vein pop. 

“I already bought tickets for the meet and greet. Do you know how much those cost me?” 

He shrugged. 

“A lot, and it’s coming out of your college fund.” 

“What if I don’t wanna go to college?” 

“Maybe you won’t get to after today,” she replied, rubbing at her temples. “Fine. I’ll give you ten dollars and you can buy yourself something at the store when we’re done, alright?” 

That was enough to cover a pencil, maybe an eraser as well if he haggled. But he didn’t argue.  

Both Gregory and his mom were suddenly blinded when they entered into the main part of the building as bright neon lights bounced off of the high glass ceiling and right into their retinas. Only once they were able to adjust their eyes could they really absorb the true grandeur of the place. 

Everywhere you looked there were people: from tired-eyed parents trying to find the next thing to distract their kids to enthusiastic parents who wanted to get involved in everything their kids were doing while filming it on their phone for their blogs. Then there were the snot-nosed teens who were bunking off school and several professional shopping guides with forced smiles wider than Moondrop and Sunrise’s combined. Everyone seemed to move in unison as the hall was filled with the sound of shoes squeaking against the polished checkered floors. 

Topping it all off was a massive gleaming golden statue of Glamrock Freddy proudly posed right in the center, singing silently into the microphone as soft music and wacky adverts played in the background. 

Suddenly Gregory felt very small. 

“It sure is...big, isn’t it?” His mother said, not sounding so confident herself. 

He merely nodded in agreement. 

Her son-o-meter seemed to be finely tuned as ever as she gently grasped Gregory’s shoulder and gave him a light but reassuring shake. 

“C’mon now,” she tenderly prodded. “We’ve got all day to enjoy the place so let’s make the most of it, huh? It’s not every day we get to go to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex.” 

This was true. Coming here had once been only but a dream. Now he was here, staring up at a brilliantly shining statue of Glamrock Freddy. And pretty soon he was going to be meeting the bear himself. 

His hand absently went to towards his back-pocket before he made a fist as determination washed over him. Looking up at his mom, he nodded. 

“And if I’m remembering right, I think I know the first thing on your to-do list.”  

The boy had already grabbed her hand as he made a beeline for their first activity. 

“To Fazer Blast!” 

 xxx

Trying to imitate the pose of the Roxanne cut-out that was behind the reception desk, Gregory pointed his laser blaster at his mom as she attempted to fit on his vest. 

“Could you stop fidgeting?” 

“But I’m practicing-” 

“Stop. Fidgeting.” 

He pouted before she struck him with that look again, which he pretended not to notice as he gazed up towards the lady at the reception desk. She looked about in her twenties and was using one hand to push back her long sleek black locks away from her face every five seconds while her other hand typed lazily on a screen. 

“So...do I just join a team or...?” 

It took her a moment to even register that he was talking to her before she flicked her hair back again just to glare down at him. 

“Sure, like, do what you want. It’s your game, you make the rules.” 

She seemed to pause for a moment. 

“You do, like, know the rules, right?” 

Gregory wasn’t sure how to respond to that.  

“Uh...sure?” 

“Fantastic,” she drawled as she focused her attention back to her tablet. “Your session ends in fifteen minutes.” 

His mother rolled her eyes and muttered something about, “kids these days”, but soon smiled and took Gregory’s shoulder as she walked him in. 

“Just remember to have fun, alright? Screw the rules.” 

“Really?” Gregory asked, his toothy grin twisting into something sinister as he got into the Roxanne pose again.  

“Just...don’t run and remember to stay within the walls,” she added on quickly. “Can’t have my little space man getting lost now, can I?” 

Gregory made a sound of disgust as he was pulled in for a kiss before she finally let him loose into the brightly colored arena. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare up in awe as spotlights of purple, green and red shone upon the various props and fixtures that decorated the place. 

 In the center was a giant space rocket that was surrounded by planets with neon rings glowing around them. The cut-outs from reception were scattered about too, though now they were humongous. Gregory almost couldn’t help but salute the towering Freddy as he walked past. 

He also noticed a room near the back walls. It was raised up to overlook the whole arena and was surrounded by green-lit pillars. It fit in with the theme of the room but also...jarringly stood out. Maybe it was a place for parents to watch their kids play, or perhaps the employees? 

“Hey Grogery!”  

That voice. That name struck fear into his chest as he swirled around to face a group of boys that had aimed their blasters right at him. 

“Never thought we’d see you here,” the biggest one said with a smirk. “You sneak in through the gutters or something?” 

“Hey... Bob,” Gregory casually greeted. Though it was hard to act so suave when he was trembling. 

“It’s Rob.” 

“Rob! Yeah...cool to see you too.” 

Learning the names of his bullies from class had never been at the top of Gregory’s to-do list, but then again it hadn’t been at the top of theirs either, clearly. But God, why did they have to be here of all places? Of all days, even? 

“Nah, his mom probably got him in here with all that hooker money she earns!” The skinny one snorted, making them all burst out into laughter. 

“She works at the hospital,” Gregory weakly argued. 

“Not what my dad said!” Rob hollered, still rubbing tears from his eyes. 

“So, what, is your dad cheating on your mom?” He sniped back with a sneer of his own. 

His grin soon disappeared though when they all suddenly stopped laughing and a beat of silence followed, save for the distant laser blasts sounding off around them. 

“The hell did you just say to me?” Rob asked, his voice dangerously quiet. If his brows knitted together any tighter then those pimples on the bridge of his nose might pop at any given moment. Gregory grimaced at the very thought. 

“N-nothing! Um...I mean- it's technically not cheating if your parents are divorced, right?” 

Rob positioned the blaster in his hand not so much as to aim it, but rather throw it. 

“Like I said, my mom wouldn’t even do that!” 

The pimples popped. 

With that, Gregory legged it before the gun could smack him in the face. He dashed between the walls as the angry voices behind him grew distant, he almost felt bad as he climbed through the holes and bumped past people, but hey it was like his mom said, screw the rules, right? 

However, it looked like the rules were starting to screw him when he smacked into a dead end. The black wall was too high for him to jump over and the only way out would be to re-trace his steps, which meant... 

“C’mon Grogery!” Rob’s voice taunted through the luminous hall. “Let’s see how many knocks to the head you can take before you bleed.”  

The boy swallowed a hard lump down his throat as he backed himself up against the wall and looked up at the Roxanne cut-out that towered above him, aiming her blaster with such confidence and attitude. With a deep breath and a firm nod, he did the same with the hope that getting them disqualified might save him. 

If not, at least his mom was a first-aider. 

“Hey...” A soft, almost girlie voice laced with a mechanical tone called out. “In here.”  

Gregory’s head snapped to the right as a hand – or was it a paw? – beckoned him into a dark corner. 

“Hurry up...!” The voice urged, and before Gregory could question anything, he saw four shadows creep around as the sound of footsteps thundered towards him, forcing him to make a snap decision and dive into the darkness, getting caught by a pair of skinny, furred arms. 

“Shit, where did he go?” Rob shouted as the group gathered where Gregory had been standing just seconds before.  

“Looks like he dropped his blaster,” one of them said as he picked it up. “Maybe he climbed the wall?” 

There was a sudden yelp as Rob smacked him upside the head. 

“Don’t be so fucking stupid, he’s tiny. No way in hell he’d be able to scale that.” 

Gregory stiffened as Rob suddenly turned in his direction, but he felt the stranger put a hand on his head, and strangely enough, it calmed him down. 

“...C’mon, he’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Rob finally said, pulling the group away. “He can’t hide forever.” 

After a few moments of waiting, Gregory let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. 

“Bullies are just the worst, huh?” 

Almost jumping out of his skin at the sudden chipper voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife, he glanced up with wide eyes as the figure gave him a little pat on the head.  

This was obviously a girl but with the shadows enveloping her it was hard to tell exactly...what she was.  

He could make out a pair of tall ears so...a rabbit? Gregory couldn’t remember any animatronics other than Freddy, Chica, Monty and Roxanne, as well as Moondrop and Sunrise. Was this a new character? 

But what kind of bunny would have such piercing red eyes? 

“My name’s Vanny,” she greeted. “What’s yours?” 

Feeling slightly relieved that she had finally let him go, he cautiously stepped out and looked around to make sure he was in the clear before turning to face her.  

“...Gregory,” the boy timidly answered, still feeling a bit unnerved.  

“What a swell name! It’s nice to meet’cha,” she said with a small bow, which unveiled a few more features like a bright blue bow tied around her neck, and an unnaturally wide toothy grin plastered on her patched face.  

What’s more, she didn’t exactly move like a robot, despite sounding like one. 

“Are you new?” Gregory asked, causing Vanny to tilt her head. 

“Huh?” 

“I’ve never seen you in the show before and...” he paused, knowing his words had already gotten him in trouble today. 

“And what?” she prodded. 

“Well...you don’t really look like an animatronic.” 

“That’s because I’m not!”  

Gregory flinched at her overly cheerful tone and stepped back as she kneeled down to his level. 

“Can I let ya in on a little secret?” Vanny asked, cupping her hand to her mouth in a poorly disguised whisper. 

“Sure...?” 

“I wanna be in the show. Like, I really really wanna be in the show. That’s why I made this,” the rabbit gestured to herself in an overly dramatic way; caressing her ears and cupping her face. “But I gotta prove myself first.” 

“Prove yourself?” 

“Yup!” 

Gregory raised an eyebrow when she didn’t elaborate further, but decided to put it to rest as he really wanted to get out before Rob and his goons came back. 

“I know a shortcut outta here,” Vanny offered with a tilt of the head, as if reading his mind. “Just take a couple of rights and a left and you’ll be as right as rain! Want me to show you?”  

“T-that’s okay, I should be good,” Gregory replied with a smile, though it slowly turned into a frown when she didn’t answer back, choosing instead to just...stare at him, her head still tilted, almost as if she were deep in thought. 

“But...thanks anyway...?” he weakly offered. 

This seemed to snap her out of her trance as she nodded vigorously. 

“No problem! And don’t worry, if those bullies come back, I’ll give ‘em a dose of Moondrop’s sleepy candy. That oughta slow ‘em down!”  

He had heard of that stuff, but couldn’t for the life of him understand why kids would want candy that would put them to sleep. Nevertheless, he nodded and thanked her again before turning, and hurrying away, a soft giggle echoing behind him. 

 xxx

“Where on earth have you been? It’s been thirty minutes!” 

Gregory was still a little shaken up by the time he had reached the exit, so much so that he had forgotten that he had been on a time limit. 

“Sorry, mom...” Gregory muttered sheepishly as she looked him over. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Glancing back towards the arena, he tried to see if he could spot Rob’s gang still wandering about in there. 

“Did you see a group of guys come out by any chance? Older than me. Kinda ugly...” 

“Now you’re answering my question with a question,” his mother said with a sigh. “But no. Why? Did something happen?” 

“No!” he blurted out, making her give him that look again. “We were just...having so much fun but then I uh...I lost them. Just wondering if they left without me or something.” 

Her expression softened a little. He hated when she did that. 

“No, sweetie...but I’m sure they won’t be far, should we go look for them?” 

Gregory grabbed her hand and started pulling her away. “It’s fine! The show’ll be starting soon, right? We can’t miss it!” 

“Okay, okay...!” she chuckled as he dragged her. “But first we need to hand your blaster in.” 

He stopped then, inwardly cursing at himself before smiling sheepishly up at his mom as she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You lost it, didn’t you.”  

Her tone suggested that it wasn’t a question. 

“Yep.” 

He yelped when she was suddenly the one dragging him away. 

“Well, we best make ourselves scarce then, besides we can’t miss your big show, right?” 

Gregory grinned. “Screw the rules?” 

She smiled back. “Screw the rules.” 

 xxx

They had made it to the main stage before the show began, but there were already big crowds congregating near the front to get the best view, and Gregory was having none of it. 

His mom kept apologizing to the angry faces and pointed looks as he towed her through the mass of people to get to the front, ignoring her when she grumbled about having to teach him some social skills. 

Gregory drowned everything else in the auditorium out as his wide brown eyes focused on the stage, even trying to balance up on the tips of his toes to get any kind of glimpse of brown, green, pink or purple. He had waited so long for this moment, and nothing more mattered than the next hour. 

Gregory wasn’t ashamed to admit that he squealed a little when the lights died down, it was just as well that every other kid in the auditorium screamed too, resulting in the kind of high-pitched noise that would make a banshee cringe. 

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” A mechanical voice greeted over the speakers. “Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex! Are you all having a fantabulous time?”  

The crowds erupted once more. 

“Rockin’!” Gregory gasped as a rough female voice took over. "Y’all ready to get your glam on?!”  

“Oh Roxanne...” a more feminine tone scolded. “Now you’ve given us away. Again.”  

Gregory’s smile grew wider, he knew this whole skit, next up would be- 

"I think we’ve kept ‘em waiting long enough, gals,” a graveled voice boomed out from the speakers. "Whaddya say, Freddy? Should we give the kids what they want?”  

The little boy almost couldn’t contain himself at this point. 

“I say let’s rock out!”  

The curtains suddenly swung open to reveal the animatronics in all their shiny, glittering glory.  

They were all 80’s themed, of course, to fit in with the aesthetic of the mall. Glamrock Chica had the typical pink leotard with green leopard print leg warmers; very popular with the girls. Roxanne Wolf was more unconventional with a striking red outfit, piercings and the mascot for the mall’s race course; she appealed to quite a wide range of people. Montgomery Gator was more for the chads as he had a rough and tough attitude with a love of golf, but Gregory did admire his red mohawk and star-shaped shades. 

Then there was Glamrock Freddy. The mascot of the Pizza Plex. He didn’t really have a gimmick as such but was incredibly popular just for how great he was with the children. The other animatronics were good with kids but Freddy was the one who seemed to pay the most attention to them, whether it be sitting down and listening to a kid’s story, accepting gifts from them to even giving them gifts of his own free will – mostly a plushie of himself. 

Management were irked by this odd behavior at first but when they saw how much cash he was raking in from meet and greets alone, they decided to leave it. Why fix it if it ain’t broke, right? 

As they burst into their first song, with Freddy singing into his mic stand and the other three playing keytars, Gregory didn’t even notice when his mother shook his shoulder and told him that she would have to take a phone call but would be back as soon as she could. There were some instructions on where to meet if she didn’t make it back by the time the show was finished but the words fell on deaf ears as he bounced and sang along to the lyrics he had spent so painstakingly long to learn. 

By the fourth or fifth song, the crowds had started to dissipate as parents took their children away to browse some more shops or to go to the food court for lunch, but Gregory stayed until the very end, cheering and whooping when the animatronics did their final encore and bowed as the curtains were drawn to a close. 

Fearing his chest might explode from excitement, the boy took a few moments to breathe as he tried to calm down from the buzz of electricity that was jolting through his body. The past hour had gone and went so fast that he could hardly process any of it, all he knew was that it had been the happiest moment of his life.  

With a huge grin, he watched as the robots were escorted off stage by staff and taken to their individual show rooms for their meet and greet sessions. Lines were already starting to grow long. 

It was only then that Gregory realized that his mother was gone. He looked around with a frown, she had said something about a phone call but...that had been half an hour ago now. 

‘She must be waiting at the show room for me,’ Gregory concluded, beaming at the thought of finally meeting his hero in the flesh. Or...plastic. 

Shaking his head, he made a beeline past Chica’s room, where mostly little kids were sitting on the floor watching the animatronic as she played them a song while others had started a food fight with the leftover pizza and soda cans that had been lying around the room, making the parents and staff grimace as they tried to break it up. 

Monty’s room was a little more organized and catered more towards older children as the gator showed them how to get a hole in one with a little golf stand while others played on the arcade machine. This reminded Gregory that the golf course was next on his list. 

Roxanne’s room was very high energy as the wolf raced around with the other kids with driving wheels in their hands while making engine noises. Though when one tripped up, she immediately halted and gently picked the child up, reassuring him that “Even the most rockin’ superstars get hurt sometimes!” and carried him into the back area to where the medical staff resided with a worried mother in tow. 

Stopping to catch his breath, Gregory finally made it to Freddy’s room, gaping slightly when he saw the queue nearly reaching the end of the walkway. He couldn’t even see inside due to the mass of people gathered at the curtains, forcing him to back up a bit and climb up on a bench just to be able to get a look in. 

The room was painted red and blue to fit in with Freddy’s color scheme and decorated with bright lightning bolts and portraits of the bear himself. It was also the least cluttered as there were only a few bowling bowls, party hats and – of course – plenty of plushies to give away. But what caught Gregory’s eyes were the assortment of colorful drawings that had been halfhazardly pinned to the wall next to the make-up mirror. 

It was true then; he really did collect kids' drawings! 

Reaching into his own back-pocket, Gregory pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and opened it up, smiling a little when he looked upon his own masterpiece. All the animatronics were singing on a stage on top of the whole world, with Freddy towering over them wearing a crown and rainbow cape because why not?  

It had taken him hours and an absurd number of crayons that he had ‘taken’ from his classroom, so a selfish part of him hoped that Freddy would pin it above the rest. 

A flurry of movement in the crowd suddenly caught Gregory’s attention as the stewards moved them aside to let the animatronic move in. He felt himself get giddy when the bear greeted everyone and gave them a sign of the horns with his clawed hand, to which all the kids mimicked, including Gregory from all the way in the back. 

As the queue started to move along, Gregory couldn’t help but start to feel impatient. Where was his mom? He thought she knew how important this was to him. 

Forgiveness was suddenly starting to come in very short supply. 

With a cross of the arms and a small pout, he watched as Glamrock Freddy took photographs, played with kids and even recognized a regular and accepted a drawing from her, praising her for becoming more talented every day. 

Gregory’s chest tightened up a little at that. 

Frowning down at his own scribbles, he didn’t even notice the tall figure hiding behind the golden statue of Roxanne that was trying to get his attention. 

“Hey...! Hey Gregory!” A familiar voice hissed. 

Startled, he turned to see that tall rabbit lady from earlier waving and beckoning him over. Blinking, he took a moment to look around to see if anybody else had seen her, half-wondering if she was some kind of hallucination at this point. When she beckoned again, he tentatively walked over. 

Once again, she was hidden in the shadows, but the overhead lights made it a little easier to see more details of the suit, like the stitches that barely held the mismatched creams and beiges together along with a few patches of crosshatched red. It was like the whole thing had just been thrown together. 

“Uh...hey...”  

It took him a moment. 

“Vanny?” 

She gasped and gleefully put her hands up to her grinning mouth. 

“You remembered!”  

He forced a grin, trying to ignore the bristling hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Sure.” 

She paused and knelt down. 

“What’s wrong? You look a bit down.” 

This caught him by surprise. 

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Just...waiting.” 

Glancing back, he could see the crowds starting to dwindle as time went on, but still no sign of his mother. 

“Ooh! What’s that?” 

He looked down to where she was pointing and held up the piece of paper that he had been clutching a little too hard. 

“It’s...um...just a drawing I made...for...Freddy,” he meekly replied, his cheeks heating up. 

“Oh wow! Can I see?” 

The very question he was afraid of. But she was already holding out her hand, so he couldn’t just say no. 

She seemed to study it very closely when Gregory handed it over. He started to wonder if she was having to squint through the costume’s red eyes just to be able to see it. 

“This is so good, Gregory!” She gushed, holding it up as if to show it off to everybody else in the mall. “You’re super talented! Are you gonna be an artist when you grow up?” 

He looked down in embarrassment but couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. Despite how weird this lady was, she actually seemed pretty nice.  

“Um...I dunno. I like drawing so...maybe.” 

“You should definitely show it to Freddy, I bet he’d love it!” 

Gregory perked up at that, but frowned again as he looked back over to the show room. 

“I want to but I can’t yet.” 

“Why not?” Vanny asked. “Ya nervous?” 

That was true but he wasn’t about to admit it.  

“My mom has the ticket for the meet and greet but...she had to take some kinda phone call and hasn’t come back yet.” 

“Hasn’t...come back,” she repeated. 

As Gregory watched kids and parents come and go, he hadn’t noticed that Vanny was staring right at him until the silence between them grew uncomfortably long. But as he turned back to look at her, she stood up and offered her hand. 

“I know a way you can give it to him.” 

A little perturbed by her sudden shift in tone; he looked at her hand but didn’t take it. 

“Uh...how?” 

“The VIP room, silly!” She said, her chirpy voice returning once more. “You know that one up at Fazer Tag? I saw you looking at it earlier.” 

The one that was high up, he remembered. But... had she been watching him that whole time? 

“That’s where Freddy and the others go for the secret meet and greets, where they give you their undivided attention.” 

Gregory raised an eyebrow. 

“I... didn’t even know that was a thing.” 

“That’s cuz it’s secret!” 

Okay, well that made sense. 

“Usually only the rich kids get to go there but I think you’re much more deserving, Gregory,” she said, holding out her hand once again. “You only get today, right?” 

The boy looked over once more. Freddy was waving goodbye to the last of the children as the stewards drew the curtains. He had missed his chance. 

He looked back up at Vanny. 

“What about my mom?” 

The rabbit tilted her head. “I’ll notify the staff so they can let her know, then she’ll come pick you up when you’re ready, okay?” 

There was a moment of hesitation but he knew she was right. He only had today and nothing was going to stop him from getting what he wanted. 

Screw the rules.  

With a nod, Gregory took her hand and let her lead him away to the Fazer Tag arena, not noticing that his drawing had slipped from her grip and she had let it fall into a crumpled ball as they walked away. 

xxx

So let me know what y’all think! Would you like to see a part 2? :D

Edit: Part 2 is now available here!

[write-orflight]

Galileo. Prologue

**Gif Not Mine**

Next Chapter

Pairings: SpencerXReader, enemies to friends to lovers trope

Rating: M

Words: 1.5K (She’s a smol Prologue)

Warnings: None right now. but will eventually be smut. 

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N is an astronomer with her head constantly in the stars. But when a serial killer is threatening NASA’s top scientists, she is left in the protective custody of a man who’s gravitational pull threatens to pull her back down to earth.

A.N Hey, my children! This is an idea that’s been plaguing me for weeks and I just had to get at least the prologue out (This series is mainly just my excuse to get my pointless knowledge about space out there). I’m probably not going to update this until I finish ‘trouble’ which should be in this next coming week. I’m just really excited about this one and wanted to put it out there too. Message to be on the taglist! -Cia

                         Prologue: Mercury 

There are 400 billion stars in the galaxy. 

Some insignificant, some small, some large, and some with great potential. 

Humans were the same way. Though most were insignificant to you, which is why you didn’t indulge in the trifles of relationships and companionship. The stars were far more interesting to you. 

And you spent your life studying them. 

Ever since your dad bought you your first telescope at age 7, you knew exactly what your purpose was. To study and find out what else was out there. And for a while that was all you did, all through school, no time for boys, friendship and trivial prepubescent things, your mind was literally in the clouds. That carried you all the way to Yale where you graduated Summa cum Laude with 3 Phds in Astronomy, Engineering, and Physics. 

Getting the job at NASA wasn’t surprising to you at all. 

Meeting Jonathan was. 

Your first day together had been uneventful, you had been introduced and told your assignment which was to just track the movement of a comet that came every fifty years. A couple of months in and by pure accident you saw her. 

It couldn’t be. 

You immediately yelled at him to come over, to confirm that you were just crazy but he had seen it too. You had just discovered a planet. And not just any planet one that through your research could very well sustain human life. Jonathan, though not knowing you long, picked you up in a giant hug and swung you around. You couldn’t help the smiles and tears that had fallen from your eyes. This was exactly why you were doing this, for the art of discovery and the overwhelming feeling that came with it. 

After weeks of convincing the boards and getting funding, you and Jonathan were now heads of your own department solely designed for tracking and finding new information on Gaia, the planet the two of you graciously named. Now your nights were filled with solving equations and trying to get more than a glimmer of Gaia from your telescope. Alas, as much as you loved her, she was very slow. Jonathan would play his old jazz records and sing off-key dancing around the planetarium gifted by NASA. You didn’t know exactly when they happened, but you started to feel like maybe all humans weren’t insignificant and you started to feel like that about Jonathan. You found yourself watching his bright smile as he danced and singed around, often asking you to please dance with him, which you always declined. 

Now you wish you had. 

If you knew it’d be the last time, you for sure would have. 

But no one could’ve predicted a serial killer coming after NASA scientists. 

And no one could’ve predicted you walking into work and seeing your best friends throat slit ear to ear. 

————————————————— 

The months following Maeve’s death were hard on Spencer. He was a man of science, he knew probability and often relied on statistics for his job. The predictability of it was what made it easy to cope.  

But sometimes it wasn’t. And sometimes he hated the unpredictability of his job. 

Losing Maeve had definitely been one of those days. 

On one of his first couple weeks back, he’s called into the briefing room. 

“We don’t have to go far for this case.” JJ says manning the slides to show the team “Four NASA scientists at the Goddard Flight Center in Maryland have been found in their offices, throat slit and hands bound with duct tape behind the back.”

“Execution style…” Morgan says with a grimace. “Brutal.” 

“Obviously someone angry too.”  Emily adds. “To just do it like that, no sign of remorse. But the jaggedness of it makes it look passionate.” 

“The police and NASA believe they know who the next target is as well.” JJ adds moving to the next slide which showed a beautiful girl standing in front of a whiteboard of equations. Long silky hair tied up in a bun, glasses on her face and bright white teeth shown through the smile. You could obviously tell the picture was taken for an article or sort. Spencer thought she was cute but didn’t dwell on it long. “This is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. She worked alongside Victim #4, Jonathan Brewer as co-head scientists of the Terra-Mora project.” 

“They think the Unsub is specifically targeting her department and people who have done work for her department. And if he’s already killed the partner...” Hotch trails off. 

“He’s escalating…” Spencer adds. 

“Which puts her under extreme risk. Which is why I’m putting her in protective custody.” Hotch adds. “Reid, I’d like you to do that.” 

Spencer looks confused. “Why me? Shouldn’t someone like Morgan or Prentiss go?” 

“I’ve been told Dr. Y/L/N is very reluctant about having security. I figured having someone as intelligent as her would cushion the blow.” 

Spencer leaned back in his chair. Great… just what he needed. 

————————————— 

“No, Clifton.” 

“It’s not up for discussion, Y/N.” Cliff says walking away from you down the hall. You speed up to catch up with him. 

“I’m 31 years old! I don’t need a babysitter.” You said, angrily. 

“You’re not getting a babysitter, Y/N. The FBI is being gracious enough to provide you extra security. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you people are dying.” 

“You know you don’t have to remind me! I lost Jon!” 

“Then you know why you have to take protection, Y/N. You know what important work you and Jonathan were doing. You’re the only one left to finish it. Please just let someone take care of you while they catch the sick man who’s doing this.” You sigh, Cliff takes that as compliance. “Now get to work. I’ll show him to your office when he gets here.” 

You walk into work and look at the time, 10:30 PM, peak time for planets to be seen. And if you were lucky, you’d probably get a glimmer of her again. You were right because just as soon as you stepped up to the telescope there she was, or more like there was a sliver of her. You’ve never been able to get a full look at Gaia, but just past Saturn was the curvature of the dwarf planet you adored so much. You pick up your tape recorder, and begin to speak into it.

“January 16th, Terra-Mora logs. This is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Dr. Jonathan Brewer has passed and will no longer be making logs.” You choke up a bit but clear your throat and keep going. “Gaia’s Southwest region is visible from earth tonight. Seems her clouds are finally dissipating, and you can see some of her icy plains, I am pretty positive it’s a lake. Hopefully with the Approval of SPOT, we’ll be able to know for sure what’s up there.” You look at your door to see your boss, Dr. Clifton and a man standing watching you. “Y/L/N out.” You say into the tape recorder. 

You get up to walk over the two men. 

“You know everyone does their logs into the computers now, no one uses an actual tape anymore.” Clifton says. 

“I’m old fashioned.” You cross your arms. 

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He will be watching you while we figure out what’s happening.” 

“This is who’s supposed to be protecting me?” You ask. “You look like a strong wind would blow you over.” 

The man looks at you annoyed. “I can assure you, I’m more than capable of doing my job, Miss--” 

“Doctor.” You say. 

“Excuse me.” 

“It’s Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. And I worked very hard and paid a lot of debt for the title so I’d prefer it if you used it.” You looked annoyed right back at him. Something about the man rubbed you the wrong way. 

Dr. Clifton looks at the both of you uncomfortable. “Well I’ll leave you both to it.” He nods at you both before leaving you alone.  

“I think we got off on the wrong--” 

“Listen Dr. Reid.” You cut him off. “This is probably going to be hell for the both of us. I expressed heavily to my boss about not needing protective custody which of course fell on deaf ears, so I’m going to make one thing clear. We’re not here to be friends. I’m here to do important work that I now have to do single-handedly because you guys failed to do your work in the first place and my coworker had to die because of it.” Tears threatened to choke you but you didn’t let them. “And to be frank, I don’t know what exactly you’re here for besides being a pain in my ass so I suggest staying out of my way and not fucking touching anything. Keep that in mind and we’ll get along swimmingly.” You say, turning your back to him, heading back to the telescope and looking at him as if daring him to challenge you. For a second it looks like he might, he’s standing trying very hard not to look like he’s completely fuming. Then he just blows a frustrated breath and sits in a chair halfway across the room. 

You didn’t know why, and you didn’t have a real reason. 

But you decided that you hated Dr. Spencer Reid. 

Which you guessed was another thing humans could be.   

Message to be tagged!

[penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories]

So We Refuse To Take it Tragically

A/N: I’ve just accepted my fate is to be obsessed with this man, so here’s yet another Obi-Wan fic. There will be a second part to this, and I’m thinking a mini series of in-between moments. I won’t give spoilers, but this is NOT my normal type of fic, but he’s an exception to every rule in my book, apparently. Thank you to @caffeine-in-an-iv​ for being my beta on this, I don’t know where this would be without you!

Thank you also to @beskars​ for her post here that birthed this. Always blessing us with fuel for the thirst. 

And to the one I know IRL that found my tumblr, one I will refer to as Top Voice, this is your final warning to gtfo before feasting your eyes on unprecedented filth and sap. 

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Force sensitive! Fem Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: SMUT!!!  Cumeating, hair pulling, Comfort Sex, ANGST!! (It has a happy ending later, I promise, but it starts after ROTS, so it’s par for the course) If you’re gonna write not-particularly-pertinent-to-plot-porn, might as well make it unnecessarily detailed, right? As usual, too many feelings for porn,  More warnings will be in the tags to prevent spoilers 

Title from one of my favorite quotes: 

“Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”

-D.H. Lawrence

Tatooine is no place for a baby.

 There are no soft surfaces, nor comforts, nor surplus of anything. It’s desolate and deprived and oppressive, but you watch as Obi-Wan shields the child from its harsh, sand-pelting winds with his whole body, despite the fact the child fits in the space between his wrist and elbow. It’s overzealous, but you don’t say anything of it.

 The past two days have ripped away nearly everything he held dear, insisting on devastating every tender place. Nothing sacred has been left untouched.

 He broke the code long before he met you, and you know part of why his love for you came so easily, why he had no qualms with breaking his vows, was because he’d long since loved the man that became his family in every way that matters.

 Love and Light so tightly knit together the fabric of his being one could not be separated from the other. 

 And you could take on the entire Force with your two fists for how it had rewarded him for it with Hate and Darkness coming from someone so close it shattered something foundational in Obi-Wan. 

 Yet even now, there isn’t Darkness surrounding his signature. There’s brokenness and his ever-present equilibrium has been replaced by jagged shards. But despite it all, those rugged pieces still reflect light erratically in their shine.

 It’s a loss and betrayal that spans many different planes: on one level, there’s nowhere you look in the galaxy beyond just the two of you that isn’t marked by the Empire’s rise in power, marking the end of the Republic he fought for and the fall of the Jedi, his community, comrades, and only home he’d ever known. And on another level, you’ve seen the weight of war and worse in Obi-Wan’s eyes, but nothing, nothing like this.

 The pain is panoramic, but it’s also profoundly personal.

 Even still, his attention isn’t on himself, but on the fussy bundle in his arms.

 You wonder: is it the galaxy that doesn’t allow this man time to heal? Or is it his own choice to throw himself into the need of others so he has a tangible reason to avoid his own torments?

 When he places the baby into the arms of the young couple, you know the times ahead will give the answer to that.

 Because there aren't the cries of the past few nights to wake either of you, there’s silence. 

 You long to fill it, to try to bridge this insurmountable void with something, anything you could say. But you know it’s bigger than you. So, so much bigger than you.

 Monumental obstacles and tremendous loss find themselves standing in the threshold of an abandoned hut smaller than your flat was on Coruscant. 

 “Well… it’s not much to look at, certainly. But the moisture vaporator seems to be in repairable condition, and we’re just far enough from town to avoid any curious neighbors. What do you think?” He turns to you, and his eyes, dark circles under and all, turn sharp in their assessment of your response. 

 “I told you. I’m going wherever you are so long as you’ll let me.” Your voice is gentle but adamant as you remind him. 

 He walks up from the living room to the threshold of the kitchen where you are, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. “Be that as it may, I’m asking your input on where we’re going, or living, as your happiness means a great deal to me.” 

 There’s still no smile, but it’s the brightest his energy has felt since the last time you saw him before he came to your door in Coruscant days ago, whispering a rushed, heartfelt farewell, which you quickly countered with an emphatic, unshakable, “I’m coming with you.”

 You look up at him, gliding your hand across his cheek into the hair at the nape of his neck. There’s Darkness at the door of his soul that he’s fighting off every moment, and he has the audacity to speak of your happiness. 

 You don’t dare bring up his. It’s irony, at best. 

 So you smile, timid, knowing the gesture in itself might be blasphemous to the tone, but genuine all the same. “We can make a life here. I know we can.”  

 He scans your eyes, looking to find the authenticity in your statement. “Are you certain?” 

 He’s not asking about the hut anymore. Or, at least, not just the hut. 

 “Obi-Wan, I never had any delusion that any life I had with you would be easy. I thought I’d only ever be getting you in secret, sparse moments. Although I’d never, ever wish for it to be under the circumstances that it is, having you like this is better than I ever hoped.”

 There’s silence as he processes your words, then a wry twist of his features. “How I wish that your expectations needn’t be so low.”

 “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” You incline your head, trying to find the words to convey what you mean. 

 “Nothing any person or any planet anywhere has to offer me holds a candle to what I’ve found in you, nor will it ever. I’d never trade unshakable wholeness for the transience of materialistic happiness.”

 You know this has to resound with him. Is it not within the core set of values he was taught to forsake comfort in any avenue for something far greater? 

 His eyes flick between yours, gauging, and you can feel him reaching out to feel at your signature to solidify the truth. 

 If you knew him any less, you might be insulted at his questioning of your trustworthiness. But it’s not you he doesn’t trust. It’s something good willingly giving itself to him that causes his wariness. 

 The Force can have your middle finger along with your fists. 

 Then he’s relaxing into you, letting out an exhale that seems heavy with more than just air, and burying his nose in your hair for his next inhale. 

 ****

 By the end of the day, you’ve gathered enough supplies for basic necessities and to start on the repairs of the hut. You both snarf down a ration bar before shortly thereafter clearing the blown-in sand off what must have been the bed of the home. It’s a half circle indenture in the wall, and it has a dip obviously made for a mattress or cushion of some sort, but as all that’s available are the blankets bought in town today, you set to fluffing them to some semblance of comfort. 

 Fatigue pulls you into it far sooner than the suns setting. Last night was your first night without Luke, spent in a room you rented in town. Today was spent traveling to and from the hut, discussing details on what needs to be done, and you? You are absolutely exhausted. You can only imagine what he must feel like. 

 Obi-Wan secures the lock on the door before sitting on the side of the bed, looking off into nothing for a long, long moment. 

 You push up to your side, placing a hand on his back. “Obi…”

 His shoulder nudges toward your hand, but he cuts you off. “It’s going to get quite cold when the suns set, and since the stove isn’t properly ventilating yet, we’re going to have to work with body heat.”

 “I’ll try to mask my reluctance,” you retort.

 He turns his face to you then, and just a smidge of humor sweeps across his eyes before he sheds his cloak, followed by everything else until only his pants remain. You’ve long since stripped down to your own sleeping comfort level, so before he can fold his cloak along with the rest of his discarded clothing, you take it and cover yourself with it. 

 He shakes his head a little at you once he’s done, settling down next to you, throwing the covers over both of you. 

 “Tell me what you need.” You’re face to face with him, but his expression is unreadable. 

 “I… I don’t know.” He considers you as if you held the answer to the question you just asked him.

 “What about want, then? What do you want, Obi-Wan?” You wish he didn’t have his shields perpetually raised these days. It’d be so much easier to just read his energy. 

 His hand reaches up so he can stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You’re tired, darling. Rest.” 

 Ah, there it is. If the answer to the question of desire is him counter offering his own response with the fact you’re tired… 

  “So are you. But you still want.” You press your body fully against his, dropping your voice down to a whisper. “And so do I.” 

 You won’t push anymore than that, letting him take or leave the invitation. For you, it’s not even a question. It’s been four months since you last saw him. Since you’d last felt his touch.

 You’d spent the last few nights in each other’s arms, but between Luke's shrill cries and the deafening devastation of the events of the days prior, it’d been just that: sleep. Or, what tousled, disturbed counterfeit the circumstance offered you both.  

 For him, though, there’s an abysmal weariness that digs far beyond lack of sleep, and you don’t dare infringe upon him in any way.

 But there’s still a longing present, and even without his Force signature to guide you into his feelings, he can’t hide his eyes. 

 You watch the moment he makes a decision solidify across his countenance right before he presses his lips against yours. You sigh into it, letting the draw of his skin on yours pull you into orbit.

 Because that’s exactly what happens. It’s a kiss for a kiss’ sake, for flavor and fervency and the fullness of each other, but it quickly gains its own momentum when his tongue parts your lips truly. 

 It’s an acute absence. Not having his energy surrounding you with his shields so far up. But it also gives sharp attention to the press of skin against skin, makes it an anchor and an outlet for all that is still too tender to even acknowledge.

 You find grip in his hair, purposefully running your hands the opposite of the way he combs it as he takes your face in both hands and pulls you into him all the more. 

 When you both need to breathe, he only moves so far away that his lips still brush against yours on every exhale. “I..” he starts, then stops. 

 The hand still in his hair rakes through it gently, scratching your fingertips against his scalp as you wait for him to complete his thought.

 “Let me taste you,” he says at last. You know it's a question from the way he stills, waiting for permission, but it’s phrased as nothing like it. 

 You raise an eyebrow. “Is that a rhetorical quest…”

 “Oh, hush.” He’s already nudging you over onto your back, situating his body over yours, claiming your lips again. You allow yourself to sink into it, cherishing his weight over you, his hand roaming your ribcage, before pulling back to speak. 

 “I’m sorry, are you now getting on to me for my sass? Because… oh!”

 He finds a nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt, pinching softly with a small tug. 

 “By all means, continue. I was most intrigued.” His smirk is back, but it fixes you with a tinge of worry when it again proves to be a smile only skin deep.

 You place two fingers just shy of his forehead, but he catches your wrist in an almost painful clasp. The alarm casted by his expression quickly is washed away by a carefully constructed impassiveness, and your heart sinks. 

 He has to see it, because he bows his head in apology. “Not tonight.”

 And before you have any room to respond, he’s shifting himself down as he lifts your shirt up, placing a single taunting, wet kiss on each nipple before moving even further down, nipping at the skin right below your belly button. 

 He’s distracting you from what he’s not allowing you access to, and you know it, and you let him anyway. That’s what this is, isn’t it? Distraction from the barrage of the mind. If that’s what he needs, that’s what you’ll give.

 As he toys with the hem of your underthings, and you lift your hips to assist their removal, you realize it’s exactly what you need too.

 Except he apparently isn’t planning to remove your underwear at all. With a casual flick of his hand, your legs are parted and held like that with a no-nonsense sprout of Force energy. Then he’s simply pulling the cloth to the side and brings his mouth torturously closer, but stops just before contact. 

 You push up to your elbows to tell him you can’t take much of those teasing breaths he’s taking, blowing hot air against sensitive nerve endings. But when you hear his breath stutter as he just looks, unhurried in admiration, you decide against it, even as you flush at the undivided attention. Sprawling his palms out over your inner thighs, he dips down to press his mouth between his fingers, sucking not-so-gently into the soft skin, sending the flesh into tremors before he’s even really done anything to you.

 He says your name as he opens you up with his fingers, parting your folds so everything is bared to his view. You start to squirm, the exposure starting to feel a little too heady, and you’re starting to appeal with the beginning of his name when he leans forward, straight away connecting his lips to your clit. You try to thrust up into it as some shameful noise leaves you, but there’s only so much movement you have with your legs still pinned. 

 He loves to tease, so you don’t expect him to retract the energy that constricted your legs at the first resistance. Instead, he slides his hands under your ass, pulling you on to his tongue and lets you push your hips into him unchecked.

 He hums at your enthusiasm, the reverberation sending your hands into his hair again, which gifts you with even more noises from him. 

 It doesn’t take long at all, and you’re coming undone on his tongue, biting into your forearm to dampen your cry. 

 He doesn’t stop until you push at his shoulder, signaling your tender surrender. He obeys, looking up at you from between your thighs, absolutely besotted, eyes shining a shade brighter than before. 

 Then. Obi-Wan Kenobi keeps his eyes on yours before dipping his head and tilting his jaw, running his beard right where you’re still open and vulnerable, abrasion grating in a way you know you’ll be feeling all day tomorrow. 

 He licks his lips as he moves back up to kiss you again, letting you taste yourself on him. 

 He goes easily when you gesture for him to lie on his back so you can straddle him, carefully avoiding any contact where he’s throbbing for you. His hands fall right to your waist, stroking gently as he waits for you to initiate. 

 You focus your study on the section of his hair that’s fallen in his face, twirling a finger in it, happy to have anywhere to look but his eyes. 

 He’d normally at least be in your mind by now, and even though you understand it, well, the drought of it is as appropriate for the planet as anything. 

 You remember too late to raise your own shields against any accidentally too-loud thoughts, as Obi-Wan cups his hand on your chin, forcing your gaze to his, saying your name quietly in calling.

 “You have to know, it isn’t anything to do with…”

 You interrupt him. “No. No. I won’t have you addressing my insecurities of all things in light of…”

 “Please listen, love. I need you to know, it hasn’t anything to do with the love I have for you. That hasn’t changed and never will. I think I need… “ He pauses, solemn in thought. “Time,” he finishes finally.

 You knew this already in the pit of your stomach, but hearing him say it, hearing him affirm that it isn’t you insufficiency… you hate that you needed it as much as you did. 

 And if he needs time? That’s what you’ll give. But he also has a want, evidenced by the brush of him against you when you scoot yourself down his torso. 

 You take the hem of his pants with you when you continue down, ridding him of them and his shorts. But when you wrap your hand around him and begin to lower your mouth, he grips your chin again, shaking his head. 

 “I can’t… please, just.”  It’s always an anomaly when he’s at a loss for words, usually ever-so articulate.  

 A gasp chokes out of you when you feel the phantom of his mind. Not in full, no. With barriers, and it’s projected out, not at all the same sensation to being within it. 

 It’s desperation. For how long it’s been, for how drained he feels, how he’s not sure how long this will last, and how much he yearns to be inside you.

There’s not even a second of debate in your mind as you take your position on his lap again, lifting your hips, intention apparent. He takes his cock in hand, holding steady so you can start to seat yourself onto the thick push of him. 

 The hitch in his breath is your only warning before he seizes the undersides of your thighs, halting you from taking him any further.

 His eyes are tightly shut, and you know from watching him before that his facial expression is an attempt at borderline meditation, except it’s several long seconds before he achieves anything resembling calm. 

 It’s as good a time as any to push his hands off you and squirm around to take him a little deeper. You plan on rubbing your victory in, but your smirk is wiped away with a whine at the elation. Instead of stopping you again, he almost imperceptibly thrusts up, and it’s your turn to falter, slamming your hands into his chest, nails digging in, working against your weight trying to pull you down onto him. 

 It goes on like that, until you’re both bordering on hysteria before you’ve even fully taken him. You can’t figure out if it’s a worse torment to keep delaying or continuing. 

 Obi-Wan seems to have come to his own conclusion to that, as he finally opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he places his palms flat on the tops of your thighs and pushes down until your skin is flush with his.

 You pull a hand up, biting on your fist, trying to stifle the exclamation in your throat.

 He pulls it away, voice ragged as he speaks. “I want to hear you, little one. We needn’t hide anymore.”

 It’s a dimensional statement. For one, no one is around for miles, a stark contrast to your quarters on Coruscant where you at least attempted to be considerate of your too-near neighbors when it came to noise. For another, it’s the irony of being in hiding from the Empire, but being allowed to be open in your relationship with each other finally.

 And the deepest irony is that you both have your barriers up so firmly right now all you can concentrate on is bared skin.

 Oh, but what a beautiful spanse of bared skin he is. Freckled and almost luminously pale, bending and curving with the strength of the form underneath.

 He sits up slowly, generating a breathless plea from both of you at the new angle. A search of your eyes asks you a question, and you’re nodding, kissing him with the full brunt of your craving. 

 You slide up and then down again just as he drives up, and you’ve found your rhythm, just like that. 

 His hands push you onto him every time you pull up, and his tongue laves your breasts, sucking and biting along your collarbone, as you rake your nails down his chest, over the backs of his shoulders, his scalp, anything you can touch. 

 It’s enough to send him into a chorus of groans, shoving himself hard up into you.

 He doesn’t even speak it aloud, just projects the apologetic warning that he’s on the edge.

 When his thumb finds your clit, everything in you goes tense despite the relief. You clench around him, hard, and he instantly moves his hands to your shoulder blades pulling you flush against him as he lets out an unrestrained sound against your breasts. 

 You push his thumb away from where it’s stilled against you, replacing it with your own. His fingers twitch in their bruising grip, and you can feel him throbbing inside you.

 You stay like that for a moment, just letting him ride out his bliss, whispering sweet affirmations into his hair.

 When he looks up at you again, his eyes are glassed over. You wonder if it’s ecstasy that is the cause, or something from the bedrock boiling to the surface. 

 He doesn’t give you a chance to elaborate, flipping you over on to your back. The moment he withdraws, you can feel the mess dripping down your inner thighs. 

 It takes everything in you to not come at the sight alone as Obi-Wan dips further down your body, parting you and lapping his tongue right where you’re weeping evidence of desire. 

 You know you have to be making a mess of his face and beard, but he certainly doesn’t seem to mind, indulging on his own spill infused with yours. 

 When he adds two fingers in you and curls them strategically, searing heat shoots through your lower stomach as you arch against his mouth, his name a high whisper with absolutely no suppression, echoing across the empty stone walls of the home. 

 He leaves a final tender kiss against you before lying down next to you, pulling you into his arms, and you pull him into yours right back when your limbs remember how to function.

 His head drops against yours, and his eyes flutter shut, taking a deep inhale, like he’s trying to fill his lungs with more than just oxygen. 

 Nothing is fine, and the world is crumbling. But right now, as the suns finally leave the house in dark, as you clasp each other in tight embrace, as sleep pulls you under, you can pretend it’s fine. If only for a moment.

 *******

  There’s a flash of feeling that startles you awake and into the disorientation that comes from waking in a new place. The sensation worsens when you feel the reverberations of the equivalent of a slammed door in the Force. 

 You sit up quickly and look over to Obi-Wan, who sits on the side of the bed, head in his hands, fingers brutal in their grip.

 You move toward him, and he turns around at the sound. “Go back to sleep, darling. it’s nothing.”

 When you fix him with a gaze that essentially translates “bantha fodder,” he just lies back down, pulling your back into his chest, and you doubt the fact you can’t see his face like this is a mistake. 

 The rhythm of his breathing betrays the fact he is nowhere near sleep, but you find yourself fading off soon again anyway.

 ****

 When you wake in the morning, you’re alone in the bed, which is no surprise. He’s not one to lounge, and if the height of the suns peaking through the window has anything to say, he’s already been up for a while.

 His cloak is still tangled in the blankets, though, and you wrap yourself in it, padding outside after doing something about your morning breath. 

 The hut is situated on a cliff, overlooking a barren valley. The suns glare with their unrelenting eyes of heat even so early in the day, and you stare back as best you can without squinting, daring them to do their worst. They know nothing of the misery that’s already visited this home. They have no hope of competing. 

 You find Obi-Wan cross-legged near the edge of the cliff. Cross-legged and levitating. 

 Of course, you know he can do things like this. It’s just such a different thing to see him doing it . You’ve never had a proper morning with him like this, seeing his routine. He was always up before the sun, you with him, gathering moments and soaking them in before he had to leave again.

 He looks almost peaceful now, not at rest, but peaceful. 

 How?

 How does he still have so much trust in the Force? 

 A more lighthearted thought emerges through the grim train, as you notice he’s opted to not put his tunic back on yet. 

 It doesn’t matter out here, you suppose, there isn’t any other living being for miles around. For that matter, you wonder why he even left the pants. 

 His voice damn near startles you, not even opening his eyes to address you. 

 “Although that may be the case, there are some locations more bearable to get sunburn than others.”

 You blush at being caught, and gently ensure your thoughts aren’t accidentally projected again, but he doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it.

 “Join me?”

 As he opens his eyes and descends the couple inches down back onto the ground, you feel your heart do the same. He’s taught you little things, here and there, and you’ve enjoyed it, learning to tap into that constant humming you never had the tools to channel before.

 But now? 

 What interest do you have with The Force that failed the man who served it without fail? You could burn it down for the atrocities it’s committed even in negligence against the man you love.

 But there’s been enough burning.

 Obi-Wan won’t speak of what transpired on Mustafar, but you’ve caught glimpses. Last night wasn’t the first night you’ve had him back, and it wasn’t the first you’d woken to a severe troubling in his aura. 

 You’re still not sure if Luke is a fussy baby or simply a very responsive one, as it seemed Obi-Wan was already awake before Luke started crying. 

 It was only mere seconds before his shields came slamming down, firmly in place, every time. 

You can’t tell if he’s trying to shelter you from his feelings or blockade them away from himself.

 Maybe both.

 But those seconds? They’re long enough. For just a flash of a charred, severed body. Of hateful, pleading, golden eyes. 

 There’s been enough burning. 

 “I can’t ever be a Jedi, Obi.” 

 “That’s not what I’m asking of you.” 

 He knows your criticisms as well as your compliments over the Jedi. You’ve both discussed it at great length many times, always over a firm understanding and respect, but you’ve never really had long enough to have a conclusion. But you’re not going to push now, not with the fall of it all still so close behind him. 

 “I should think our relationship itself is testimony that I don’t inherently agree or adhere to all Jedi teachings.”

 You drop your eyes, trying to ignore the sweat starting to trickle down your skin from the relentless heat. “I thought maybe you were with me in spite of your better judgement.”

 His brow furrows. “At first, that’s what I may have thought too, but it made itself clear that although what transpired between us was forbidden by the Code…” he trails off for a moment, almost hesitant. “...the way Light was and is exemplified any time I have you in my arms presented a solidified case that not always is the Jedi way synonymous with the will of the Force.”

 He says it wholeheartedly, but you can tell it pains him. It’s easy to never speak ill of the dead, either of individuals or groups. To glorify and wipe away any transgressions to ensure their memory sparkles as you grieve it. 

 The harder thing is to grieve everything, both the good you lost and the bad you experienced from the same source.

 And there’s another level there. Something that has him patting the spot beside him and giving a heartbreakingly forced smile.

 Even through it all, wariness of aspects of his own religion included, he seeks unity with the Force without reservation or resentment.

 You don’t fight him anymore. 

 The war is over, but the battle has just begun, and so help you Maker, you’re going to fight for him to have the chance to heal. 

 So you sit, mimicking his position. 

 When he smiles again, it’s much smaller but not at all fake. 

 “First, clear your mind.”

 *****

 The days are afflicted with an underlying gloom, full of work that busies the hands but leaves the mind to wander, which wasn’t at all a luxurious thing. 

 But the nights are filled with unclaimed time, time in an abundance you never had with each other before. 

 Sometimes it’s shot with silence from the weight of the day, reveling in the presence of another as you work together on the supper dishes.

 Or sometimes there’s almost an excitement, despite the labor ahead, of the plans for the place that’s now your home. 

 “Wouldn’t we have to have some sort of larger equipment to hoist that over the cliff edge?” You wonder aloud to Obi-Wan, speaking of the replacement unit for finally getting some very basic temperature control for the hut. “The way around back is too rough and would scratch it up, and I, for one, wouldn’t want to try pushing it up manu…”

 You stop at his smirk he’s trying to hide with tilting his tea cup higher over his lips. 

 “...Or there’s a Jedi solution to this problem that requires neither, and you’re just letting me ramble on anyway.” You punctuate the end of your statement by tossing a pillow his direction, which just stops. Midair. 

 There’s so much legend surrounding Jedi, you haven’t really been sure what’s factual and what’s fairytale. 

 You certainly knew of some of his abilities, but he didn’t tend to elaborate on details of his missions before, and you never argued, knowing it was a liability for you to have that kind of information if anyone ever found out what you meant to Obi-Wan.

 He chuckles, not even trying to look a little guilty. 

 Once you remember to shut your mouth, you get back to planning. “And that same principle just applies to objects of any size?”

 He nods. “Same principle, just more concentration required.” 

 You tuck your feet under you on your chair as you think on that for a second. You’ll have to ask him to teach you that one next. Mediation alone could get rather dull.

 “So, for instance, if a great amount of concentration is being spent Force-lifting an object up the cliff, it would leave a Jedi vulnerable to, say… projectiles thrown?” You throw another pillow at him, which just as easily halts next to the other, gravity defiant. 

 He could have lowered the first one by now. You raise a brow at the knowledge he’s putting on a show for you. 

 “You’ll have to do better than that, I’m afraid.” 

 More often than not, the time of the evenings are spent loving and lounging in sheets, savoring the difference of unhurried lovemaking, with no heart-wrenching farewell on the horizon.

 But every time you gently ask to reach his mind, he pushes the request and your hand away.

 *******

 Obi-Wan’s visits to see Luke are met with a level of hostility. The man, Owen, seems wary of him, doing everything he can to cut the visit short as you and the woman, Beru, if you remember correctly, look silently to each other for some relief in the tension.

 They already likely know his actual name, but you’re careful to only address Obi as “Ben” here, along with everywhere else that isn’t your hut. It’s precautionary, but if it’s for the sake of protecting Luke and Obi-Wan himself, you’ll do it without any further questions.

 But Luke seems to be doing well, and that is ultimately what matters most. It’s hard to believe how quickly he’s grown in the mere weeks that you’ve been here.

 The boy might be by far Obi-Wan’s greatest purpose being on this planet, but it’s not his only. 

 Master Yoda had given him Jedi texts, yes, but also another task for his time here. 

You’re thankful to talk about either, as it seems to be one of the few things he’ll open up to you about as it pertains to himself. 

 But when he goes to meditate alone, calling for his mentor, his father in every right of the term, he comes back more empty than he left. 

 When you look at him with a too-knowing look, too infiltrating for his comfort, he easily slides into a quip.

 “My old master, it seems, won’t appear unless on his own terms. I’m not sure what else I expected, honestly.”

 ******

 You also learn that the man does not cook. Not that you consider yourself an expert, but at the very minimum, you know how to use spices, which on Tatooine come as hot as their weather.

 “Is it a Jedi thing to have tasteless food, or is that just you?” You tease as he dices some sort of root at your direction while you sift through the cabinet. 

 His eyes are full of mischief when he’s quiet for a moment before speaking up. “I would argue there’s concrete evidence that I’m quite happy to indulge in the pleasures of taste.”

 You can’t help your blush as his very pointed look. 

 Dinner is long forgotten after that, but the night is delectable all the same.

 *****

 Something has shifted in your own Force signature. Something you can’t put your finger on. 

 It doesn’t seem harmful or threatening in essence, but it makes you wary in a way that makes your skin itch with more than the dryness. 

 You try not to think much of it. After all, there’s plenty to do between tending to the vaporator, hunting, fending off the Sand People, and your learning to wield the Force.

 After rumors of Tusken raiders being nearby, you ask Obi-Wan to teach you combat.  This would be starting long before he normally would teach someone, he explained, but he does it anyway. It’s not exactly using the Force at first, having to start with how to even move your body in the event of attack, slowly enhancing those skills with the Force as you become more confident in them. 

 You look forward to it more than any other task. It gives you a strength you haven’t had before, and it’s a whole different level of connection to the Force when you trust it physically, not just in your mind. 

 It’s also another level of trust with Obi-Wan, knowing he’d never hurt you even as he enters the role of a potential threat, guiding you through how to handle it.

 So you don’t know why today your stomach won’t agree to the way you want your body to move. You push through it anyway, despite Obi-Wan’s concerned questioning. 

 You lose your lunch into the rocks, and you really wish he wouldn’t pick you up to take you back into the hut, because the shift of what’s up and what’s down doesn’t help at all. 

 And you wish he wouldn’t dote over you the rest of the day, as if you didn’t feel useless enough already, as if the illness didn’t leave as quickly as it came. 

 You make a mental note to ensure you don’t let yourself become dehydrated again to that point.

 *****

 The trips into town are kept to a minimum, trying to keep curiosity away from the new couple. Also, there wasn’t much to do except barter and spend credits, something you both tried not to do a great deal of. 

 Obi-Wan was sent off with enough Republic credits to get you started here, but it was hit or miss if the vendors took them that day, and he also didn’t want to spend too much at once.

 Nothing was more suspicious than surplus here.

 The woman you brought the limited produce available from seemed… different this trip. 

 Obi-Wan was a couple of stalls down from you, negotiating with a man who had obviously jacked up the price on the items needed. Poor man didn’t know what he was in for. 

 You turned your attention back on to the woman in front of you, and tried to decipher what was different this time and why it felt so familiar. 

 As you pointed to a basket of hubba gourds, inquiring of the price, she gave you one that you knew for a fact was higher than last time. 

 You counter offered the same price as last time you were here, and she firmly stated her price again. Ready to stand your ground, you go to state your price again, she puts her hand to her belly, bringing her skirt in around, revealing a small bump. 

 “Can’t afford your low-ball offers with this one on the way, understand?” 

 The sky suddenly falls around you in thunderous clamor as the physical realm around you moves on, unaffected and unreachable. Almost mechanically, you place the credits she asked for on the table, not even capable of addressing the obvious manipulation.

 Understanding drenches you in its brutal weight as you realize the source why she felt so different this time. 

 Your hands shake in their clasp on the basket as you pull yourself into a side alley, heaving your breakfast up. 

 Because you recognize the same difference in her is the exact same one that has changed your Force signature.

 It’s because there’s a flickering light of another being’s Force signature within you. 

  Tagged as requested: @maybege​