#instead she secretly plans these trips until she physically can’t anymore

[lad-boyo]

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[promptmaker]

Sinfully Nalu Prompt suggestions.

Here are suggestions for the Sinfully NaLu event prompts! If you want to use one, let me know and I can cross it out if you want. If none of these work for you but you still want an idea for the prompt, let me know and I can try to help!

1. Biting/Fangs/Teeth:  Now that Natsu and Lucy are together, Natsu has taken a liking to “marking” Lucy by leaving bite marks all over her. Though she enjoys it, it is a source of constant teasing from the other FT ladies whenever they bathe together. So she devises a way to get back at Natsu and leave some marks of her own. With research help from Levy, Lucy finds a spell that temporarily gives her fangs like Natsu. Next time they are alone together, they take great pleasure in marking each other up.

2. Biting/Fangs/Teeth: While fixing Natsu’s favorite spicy meal, Lucy spills some on herself after he sneaks up on her. Before she can get mad, Natsu is already licking the mess off of her. Liking the taste, he decides to make a meal out of Lucy instead.

3. Public Sex:  (Post Series) Fairy Tail is participating in the Grand Magic games yet again and are doing well. Natsu and Lucy are participating this year and after a few successful wins, they decide to celebrate in the team locker room.

4. Public Sex: During a stay at a fancy onsen,Lucy and Natsu indulge in a night of drinking at the bar after a dip in the hotspring. Unsurprisingly, Lucy becomes a bit tipsy and starts becoming extra  flirty and handsy with Natsu.  So he decides to end their night of drinking early and take Lucy back to their room to give her what she wants. Or he tries too but the place is big and gets lost. Lucy loses her patience and kisses Natsu against a wall and says she can’t wait anymore and they could go at it right then and there if they need to. Natsu is surprised but thrilled at her suggestion. Since it's late and the hallway is deserted, they go for it and Natsu takes her against the wall there.

5. Public Sex: Natsu and Lucy sneak off during a break at one of her book signings to have some fun at the back of the book store.

6. Public Sex: After starting the latest bar fight at the guild, Natsu is tasked with cleaning the FT pool as punishment. He manages to drag Lucy along to help him. But they can only see each other scantily clad and working up a sweat for so long before they go at it right in the pool.

7. Public Sex: (Modern AU)  Natsu and Lucy are enjoying a comic convention that they go to every year. Dressed up in cosplay the two wander the main hall and get quite a bit of attention due to their sexy cosplay. When Lucy gets a little too much attention, Natsu drags her off the main floor and finds a quiet place for a quickie.

8. Public Sex: When Lucy tells Natsu he can pick their next date location she knew she was asking for trouble and he confirms her fears by taking her to a nude beach. When she realizes he picked the location specifically to fluster her she decides two can play at that game and the two tease each other the entire time they are there. They of course get carried away and sneak somewhere hidden to go at it before they get caught.   Afterward Lucy realizes that she really had fun there and is open to returning.  Also works under the Secret prompt.  (Old Prompt)

9. Dirty Talk/Texting  Natsu and Lucy have been together for a couple of months now and can’t keep their hands off each other. It gets so bad that Lucy’s friends need to drag her away for some girl time at a spa/onsen. NaLu secretly keeps in touch via text and face time throughout Lucy’s trip but things escalate when a drunken and flirty Lucy starts sending Natsu risque pics and texts throughout her time there.   Their escapades end with a video chat session that turns steamy.  (Old Prompt)

10. Dirty talk/Sexting: After nearly destroying half a town during a mission, Natsu is brought before the magic council for the standard lecture. During which he mostly ignores them and texts Lucy under the table. To tease her, he makes the topic dirty and about the things they’ll do together when he gets home. But she takes him by surprise by making the conversation even dirtier and soon Natsu has another problem under the table.

11. Dirty Talk/Sexting:  Lucy and Natsu want to spice things up their sex life and they think adding dirty talk will help. They both do their own research on what they think sexy dirty talk will sound like (Lucy from the library/Levy, Natsu from the older FT guys). After their research they get together to put it to the test with… interesting results.

12. Dirty Talk/Sexting: Lucy is away on a week long photo shoot while Natsu is at home recovering from an injury. When he complains to her that he is bored, she decides to start sending him pictures of her in various sexy outfits she is wearing for the shoot. The messages between them become sexier and devolve into Natsu telling her what he wants to do to her and Lucy sending even more sexy/nude pics to instigate him (Optional: Lucy has a lady friend help her take the pics.)

13. Wedding night/Wedding:  Natsu and Lucy’s dream wedding is not going as expected. Natsu sees Lucy too early, the half the guests are delayed by a storm, there are issues with the food ect. So Natsu and Lucy find an empty room at the venue (or wherever the wedding takes place) and have a quiet moment together and are just glad they have each other. The tender moment quickly turns mischievous when one of them suggests a quickie to take the edge off. They are of course accidentally caught on camera by the wedding photographer.

14. Wedding Night/Wedding: NaLu have just gotten married and have just arrived at their hotel room to “celebrate”. Throughout the day, Natsu has been teasing Lucy that she looked great in her dress but he was going to burn it off her once they are alone and to his surprise she does encourage him to burn it off. Revealing that there was a spell on the dress that burned it off without hurting her and that she was wearing flame themed lingerie underneath. Now the fun can really begin.  (Lucy can switch out her actual wedding dress with this one before the scene takes place. I doubt she would burn the real thing.)

15. Snowed in/Trapped: Natsu and Lucy are stuck at home after several days of heavy snow. With Natsu crawling up the wall from boredom, Lucy makes a suggestion. With the help of Virgo and Natsu’s magic, they use the excess snow to create an impromptu hot spring in their backyard. As a challenge from Natsu, they two streak nude across the rest of the snow in their yard to get to the spring. An extra excuse to cuddle for warmth once they get there. Which of course leads to other things.

16. Snowed In/Trapped: A huge snow storm has blocked all the roads and has made a mess on the Dragneel household, so Natsu and Lucy spend their morning clearing the surrounding snow. Natsu of course starts a snowball fight that ends with him putting snow down Lucy’s shirt and her using Aquarius in retaliation. Now both thoroughly soaked, the two head inside, strip down, and must think of some creative ways to “warm up”.

17. Marking/Mating/Ritual:  An attempt to get Natsu’s DS mating cycle under control backfires when the spell that is supposed to calm him down, just gives his mating urges to Lucy instead. Now he must tend to her every need for 72 hours until the spell passes.

18. Marking/Mating/Ritual: After Lucy and Natsu get married, they are offered a rare honor by the Celestial Spirit King to perform a special mating ritual in the Celestial World. During this ritual their souls temporarily merge and it's supposed to be a deep bonding experience. Other future benefits is that they can share magic when they need to and can sense where the other is any time. They are given their own special villa to stay at where they can perform the ritual and not have to worry about their energy draining or losing time while in the Celestial World.

19. Starting a Family:  (Edolas)  Lucy Ashley is pregnant with her and Natsu Doragion’s first child and her sex drive is through the roof. So before he goes on his next solo mission, she is sure to get as much out of him as she can. He is more than happy (and a bit scared) to help.

20. Starting a Family: Natsu and Lucy have been in a friends with benefits relationship for quite some time, too afraid of ruining their friendship if they were to take things further. But when Natsu gets Lucy pregnant, they must figure out what their new relationship is going to be and how they are going to start a family together.

21. Massage/Masseuse: (Modern AU): Lucy has been visiting a massage parlor frequently lately (either for stress relief or for Physical Therapy). But mostly she goes there to flirt with her favorite masseuse, Natsu. He likes to flirt back too but attempts to be professional about it. Until eventually the sexual tension between them snaps and they go at it then and there.   (Roles can be flipped)

22. Massage/Masseuse: When Natsu takes a bad hit during a mission, he needs healing ointment rubbed onto his body regularly for a week. His girlfriend Lucy is happy to help him with this and they both indulge in a Nurse/Patient role-play they’ve been wanting to try.

23. Massage/Masseuse (Minor Hero’s/Edens Zero crossover): Lucy and Natsu are visiting the Edens Zero crew on their ship. When the crew becomes preoccupied with something, they encourage Natsu and Lucy to indulge in the bath and massage room. Which they gladly do. After their bath the two head to the massage room where Natsu plans on giving Lucy the rub down of her life!

24. Magic: (Whip) Lucy has gotten a new electrical whip. When Natsu puts them in the red again for being too destructive on a mission, she decides he needs to be punished. So next time they are intimate, she introduces the whip in the bedroom (Natsu is into this. She uses it to tie him up, lightly shock/stimulate him, and spanking (or whatever the writer wants.)

25. Magic: (X-Ray Glasses) Lucy gives Natsu magic glasses before a mission, telling him it's important that he wears them and it will help find what they are looking for.  What he doesn’t know is that they are actually Magic X-Ray Glasses. As revenge for an earlier prank done on her, Lucy enchants them to only work on her so Natsu can see through her clothes throughout the mission. But he can’t do anything about it with their teammates there (glasses could also be magically stuck to his face for a while), so he has to suffer his mate intentionally teasing him throughout the day until they finally get some alone time at an inn, where he pounces her and they both get some much needed release.

26. Magic: (Pleasure) NaLu are exposed to a “Pleasure” spell from a dark mage during a mission. They are forced to leave the dark mage in the care of their teammates as they scurry off to find a secluded area where they can work off the spell.   (Pleasure spell like Laracade’s, that sends a person into a heightened pleasured state until they reach completion with someone.)  (Old Prompt)

27. Magic: (Clones)  When Lucy makes the mistake of asking Cana what to get Natsu for his birthday, Cana crudely reveals that she has a new multiply card that can multiply anyone she touches with it and she convinces Lucy it would be a great bedroom surprise for Natsu. (Can also be given to Natsu)   (Old Prompt)

28. Magic: (Transform)  NaLu are at home practicing transformation magic for a mission. Once they get the hang of it they start having some fun with it. But once one (or both) of them find a transformation that the other finds too desirable for the other to ignore, the real fun can begin. (Bunny or Cat girl Lucy? Dragon Lord Natsu?  Whatever the writer wants!)  (Old Prompt)

29. Magic: (Invisibility) Natsu convinces Lucy to use a leftover invisibility potion to help him with some pranks at the guild. They quickly realize what other sexual mischief they can get up to at the guild now that  they won’t get caught.

30. Magic: (Unison Raid) While Natsu and Lucy are having an intense intimate moment, they activate a unison raid by accident. But instead of causing destruction, it amplifies everything they are feeling together.

[bedlamsbard]

Here is the second part of the other side AU concept!  I am very roughly estimating this at five parts, but we’ll see if I keep up momentum and if it goes as planned.  The AU is Backbone-based and uses Backbone backstory up until the present day.

Previous: Part 1

About 4.8K below the break.

***

Kanan found Hera sitting on the floor in front of the faulty signal modulator, surrounded by tools, and staring blankly at the device as tears rolled silently down her cheeks. Chopper was beside her, patting her shoulder awkwardly with one of his manipulators.

Kanan sat down beside her and put an arm around her; Hera turned limply towards him and pressed her face against his shoulder. She cried silently – she always did – but she was shaking with the force of her sobs.  Kanan held her close, the same way she had held him through all those bad nights after he had returned from Mustafar, when he had been recovered enough to let her touch him without screaming.

“Talk to me,” he told her softly. “Don’t shut me out.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Hera muttered, her voice thick.  She leaned heavily against him, scrubbing at her face with her sleeve the same way the other Hera had done. “I – I want my mother,” she said, self-conscious. “I never think about her.  Not since – but when she said Mama was dead, all I could think about was that I wanted my mother.  I know she’s out there because she’s on the watchlist next to Daddy, and I know I shouldn’t want her anymore, but, Kanan, I want my mother.”

“It’s your mom, Hera. It’s all right.”  He kissed her forehead, not saying, We can go to her if you want.  He wouldn’t make her refuse.

Hera looked down at her hands.  She pulled her black gloves off and set them aside to stare at her long green fingers and close-cropped nails.  “I was with Agent Beneke for twelve hours today,” she said. “Locked in his office going over every operation you and I have ever been on together and every operation any Inquisitor has ever worked with the ISB, all while he was asking me about my state of mind and your state of mind and about our sex life and if you like to tie me up.”

“What?” Kanan said, startled.

There was a brittle edge to Hera’s voice. “Well, he knows we’re sleeping with each other again and he wants to know what changed since you came back.  Except he never actually said any of that, just talked around it, so I had to sit there listening to him, because he was talking about our operations too, and if I’d stopped paying attention for even a minute I might miss something that meant he would break us up or put me back behind a desk or – or call the Inquisition, or – all he has to do is suspect I might have even looked at another Twi’lek and I’ll go in an interrogation room for a week while everyone makes sure I’m not secretly in communication with my father.  Or go back to the Spire.  That’s what happened when he left Ryloth; they pulled me out of class and put me back in the Spire for three weeks.  I almost failed the entire year.  And he could do that again if Daddy’s done something, or if he thinks Daddy’s done something, or if anyone else at the ISB thinks Daddy’s done something, or – I don’t know.  When you were gone – when I was – when you were gone, there was an attack on one of the spice mines on Ryloth.  Terrorist action.  Not Daddy – not Free Ryloth, I mean.  But they put me in a cell anyway, just in case.  Came and got me from my desk, walked me down to holding, and put me in a cell until they could make sure that Syndulla hadn’t had anything to do with it. And then they let me out.  Four days later.”

She pressed her hands to her face.  “I hate being on Naboo,” she said. “I hate it.  And I hate being at HQ.  It just reminds me of –”  She stopped abruptly before going on as if she hadn’t interrupted herself.  “And then when I finally got out of that blasted meeting and got back here, you – and her – could you really not tell she wasn’t me?”

Kanan hesitated, thinking. “Yes and no,” he said after a moment.  Hera stiffened with hurt in his arms, and he said quickly, “I wasn’t paying much attention when I came in.  I’d felt the disturbance in the Force when she arrived, but it didn’t have to be in the ship, and I didn’t know what it was.  Naboo is a Force-rich planet and it didn’t feel like a threat.  It could have been anything.  I got up to the cockpit and – it was you.  She felt like you.  She still does.  I can tell you apart now, but when I got in there I didn’t realize you weren’t back yet.”

“She’s thirteen years older than me,” Hera said, her voice small. “And you know I was in uniform when I left.”

“I wasn’t looking,” Kanan said. “I know it sounds like an excuse, but I wasn’t looking.  We – we don’t, always, you know.”

Hera frowned a little, a line knotting between her brows. “I know,” she said finally.  She looked down.  “She told you what happened to him.”

Kanan nodded. “Yeah.”

“Don’t tell me,” Hera said. “Just – was he – he was like you.  More like you than she is like me?”

“I don’t –” Kanan hesitated. “I think you’re more like her than you think.”

“She’s a rebel,” Hera said. She looked down at her hands again. “But she loved him.”

“Yes.”  Kanan touched her chin, and when she turned her face up to his, kissed her lightly on the lips. “How he died,” he said slowly after she had drawn back a little, “I would have done the same thing.”

Hera’s face crumpled. She put her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, shivering all over.  “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, her voice muffled. “Kanan, I don’t know what to do.  I should comm Agent Beneke – but – I can’t, Kanan, I just can’t.  And I want my mother.  I can’t believe I want my mother.  And Agent Beneke was asking me if my physical needs were being met, you know he has that hang-up about Twi’lek women and sex – I’m so tired.” 

Kanan kissed her forehead. “You’ve been working all day.  Go change, take a shower if you need to, and I’ll make dinner.”

She nodded wearily and let him lever her up. “I love you,” she said suddenly, her hands tight on his arms. “Kanan, I – she was so sad.  And she loved him.  And when you were gone, I thought you were dead, and I – she was so sad.  I remember being like that, and it was – it was awful. I can’t imagine feeling like that for years.”  She looked down, her lekku drooping with her weariness. “At least I had that little bit of hope that you’d come back, even if it didn’t seem like it at the time.

Kanan put an arm around her waist and leaned his forehead down against hers. “I’m here,” he told her. “I love you, and I won’t leave you again.”

Hera was shaking in his arms. “I know,” she said, but her voice broke on the last syllable.  She managed to summon up the ghost of a smile and added, “I – I don’t want a baby, though.”

Since Kanan could think of very few things that would make their already tenuous situation worse than Hera getting pregnant, he couldn’t disagree.  Not to mention he knew exactly what the Inquisition did with the children of Force-users.  He just kissed her again and tried not to think about the boy in that holo.

“I can just imagine what Agent Beneke would say about that,” he said instead.

Hera groaned. “Don’t remind me.  You don’t want to know what my med center visits are like, since he gives the doctor a list of everything he doesn’t want to ask me himself.”

Kanan grimaced.  He had his own problems on that front, but he wasn’t about to tell Hera about them. “Go change,” he told Hera gently. “It’s too hot for wool right now anyway.”

“Says the man wearing head-to-toe black leather,” she teased.  She brushed another quick kiss over his lips, then left for her cabin.

Kanan rubbed a hand over his face and knelt down to pick up the discarded tools so that neither of them tripped over them later.  “You could make yourself useful and fix this,” he suggested to Chopper, who had come back now that the feelings were over.

He told Kanan what he could do with the signal modulator, making Kanan laugh, and then added a tentative inquiry about the woman locked in the empty cabin.  Kanan sat back on his heels and regarded the droid, thinking. “Well,” he said finally, “you probably will meet her.”

Technically speaking something like this was really more of a job for the Inquisition than the ISB. Kanan should have been on the comm right now to Mustafar.  The Hunter, who hadn’t wanted to send Kanan back to Hera anyway, would have had a field day with this.  Lord Vader – and the Emperor –

Kanan could just barely imagine what they would do with the knowledge the other Hera had brought with her, and it terrified him.

He rubbed at his face again, then dumped the tools in the tool box and put it out of the way where no one would step on it.  He didn’t think Hera had realized yet that this was an Inquisition matter and not an ISB one.

He couldn’t turn her over to the Inquisition.  She might not be his Hera, but she was still Hera Syndulla, and he couldn’t.  Not when he knew what that meant.  Not ever.

Kanan had meant to get up and go into the galley to get dinner for three, but he found himself slumping back against the wall, his head in his hands.  Her lover had been a Jedi, even if she hadn’t specifically said as much. Kanan knew better than most that being a Jedi in the Empire was a death sentence, and Hera’s lover had died for it.

He’d died for it, and Kanan was walking around with the Imperial cog and his operating number inked into the back of his neck, the Hunter still a constant presence at the very edge of his consciousness almost a year after Kanan had left the Crucible. He touched the lightsaber hilt at his belt, then snatched his fingers away as if the metal had burned him.

If he stretched out his mind, he could feel the kyber crystal in his old lightsaber and Master Billaba’s holocron singing silently to themselves in the locked drawer in his cabin.

“I can’t do this,” he said out loud, then passed his hand over his face again.  He pushed himself wearily upright and went into the galley.

*

Sometime later, Hera raised her head from her arms as she heard the door unlock.  The other Hera came in, holding a tray with a bowl, a cup, and a pitcher on it.  Hera caught a glimpse of Chopper’s unmistakable orange chassis in the hallway outside, trying to peer into the room before the door closed again.

“Thank you,” she said as the girl put the tray down on the table in front of her.

Her counterpart looked up, a little startled.  She had changed, wearing civilian clothes now instead of her uniform, but her lekku were still wrapped, and something about the cut of her clothes still felt subtly wrong. It took Hera a moment of staring at her to realize that it was at least partially because she was wearing clothes designed by and for humans instead of Twi’leks.

“How old are you?” she asked.

The other Hera hesitated, then said, “I’m twenty.  My birthday’s in three weeks.”  She straightened upright, heat in her cheeks.  “You don’t have to – you keep looking at me as if you feel sorry for me.”

Hera did feel sorry for her, but she knew better than to say as much.  She just poured herself a glass of water and said, “I’m surprised that the Empire let you keep Chopper.”

The girl glanced at the closed door, presumably well aware that he was out in the hallway.  “When I was commissioned three years ago, my handler gave him to me as a – a reward for graduating the Academy.  He knew Chopper had been mine before.  Chop’s memory was supposed to have been wiped, but –”

“That’s easier said than done?” Hera suggested.

It startled a smile out of the other woman.  “It made him grumpier, but he was smart enough to pretend that it worked once he had realized what had happened.”

“Yeah, I didn’t read the manual when I was fixing him up the first time either,” Hera said.  Chopper’s memory storage was so cross-wired she was fairly certain that no one else could do anything more than read it, the way the Empire had tried six years ago when he had been sliced, which was why she was the only one who had ever been able to do selective memory wipes on him.

“Chop got forbidden from the Imperial Complex when I was flying a desk here last year,” the other Hera confessed. “On the second day.  He, um – he set another agent on fire.  Not that Agent Sarkov didn’t deserve it –”

“Here?” Hera repeated, startled. “Where are we?”

The girl leaned back on one foot. “We’re on Naboo, ISB regional headquarters in Theed – we’re docked in one of the ISB hangars.”

Hera stared at her, appalled.

“Well –” the girl said uneasily, “– the Inquisition forced the ISB to take all the surveillance off the Ghost when Kanan came back, and I haven’t told anyone at the ISB you’re here.  And Kanan hates the Inquisition, so he hasn’t told them, either.”

“If he hates the Inquisition,” Hera said, latching onto that, “then why is he –”

Her face crumpled. She sat down heavily in the seat across from Hera, looking younger and more grief-stricken than ever. “I didn’t make him,” she said.  “I didn’t –” She looked up at Hera, so distressed that Hera almost got up to go to her.  She stayed where she was, though, watching her.

The other Hera looked down again.  “I – I met Kanan when I was a week out of the ISB Academy.  I had been in the Academy for four years, Serenno and then Naboo, and in prison before that, and I was on assignment, my first assignment, to track down possible rebel sympathizers on a planet called Gorse.”

Hera twitched a little, startled.

If the girl noticed, she didn’t show it. “There was an incident – anyway, it was dealt with.  But I wanted him so badly.  He was the first person who treated me like a person – I suppose you don’t know a lot of Imperial officers, but most of them are terrible, especially the men, and I didn’t think I could want anyone at all. Kanan was…”  She shook her head, as if she still couldn’t believe her good fortune.  “We worked together for almost a year.  My handler was so angry – he tried to have Kanan killed once.  But we worked well as a team so the Bureau was all right paying him, and Agent Beneke – my handler – just had to live with it.  And – and the Inquisition found out about him.”

She put her hands to her face, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks.  “They had me bring him back here,” she said haltingly. “I thought – it was supposed to be the Bureau.  I didn’t know about the Inquisition.  Except it was them, and he was – he was – he was arrested.  And they gave him a choice, Lord Vader and the Inquisitor who was there.  He could go with them, and maybe come back to me later, or they could kill him.  He chose me, and they took him.  They had him for a year.  No one would tell me anything, and I thought he was dead.  I thought I’d gotten him killed.  I –”  She wouldn’t look Hera in the eye.  “I was here, on Naboo, because the ISB wouldn’t put me in the field alone and wouldn’t let me do fieldwork with the Naboo agents since they thought I was a distraction because I’m a Twi’lek.  I was so sure that he was dead and I had gotten him killed.”

She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her wrist. “They let him come back eight months ago.  He’s – he’s mostly all right now.  He’s better.  But when he first came back, he was so badly hurt.  Not physically, but – he was so hurt.  He wouldn’t talk.  He couldn’t touch me.  He wasn’t…he wasn’t always here, like half of him was still back on Mustafar.  He couldn’t sleep half the time, and when he did, he had nightmares.  He won’t tell me what happened there.  He’s – he’s terrified of the Inquisition, even though he’s an Inquisitor.”

“I’m sorry,” Hera said. She reached across the table to lay her hand on the girl’s.

The other Hera looked up at her, then away. “Agent Beneke still hates him,” she said, sounding distracted. “We’re back on Naboo because he’s been trying to find a reason to break us up that the ISB and the Inquisition will both accept.”  She touched her face again, as if surprised to find her cheeks wet, and then said, “You weren’t…expecting us, were you.”

It was a statement, not a question.

“I met Kanan – my Kanan – on Gorse too,” Hera said. “Except I was the rebel trying to track down a rebel sympathizer before the Empire did.” She didn’t say that while she had thought that Kanan was sweet – not to mention handsome – she hadn’t felt the same kind of desperate yearning the other girl clearly had.  On the other hand, she hadn’t been surrounded by Imperial officers for the previous four years, and she was well aware of how most Imperial men thought of Twi’lek women.  Kanan must have seemed like a revelation to her.  She smiled wryly.  “I was expecting someone more like we were back then.”

The other Hera looked at her, her eyes sad, “I didn’t think that there was any other option,” she said quietly. “Or if there was, it was worse.  I do know what happens to most Twi’lek prisoners in the Empire.”

She stood up abruptly. “I’m sorry – I swear it was hot when I brought it in.”

Startled by the change in subject, Hera stared at her, then down at the bowl in front of her. “It’s all right,” she said. “It’s not as if most Alliance rations aren’t cardboard and protein mush.”

“I – I have to think,” the girl said, and fled before Hera could say anything else.

Sighing, Hera poured herself another glass of water – she couldn’t even remember drinking the first one – and sat down to eat.

*

The only good thing about being on Naboo was that she didn’t have to worry about checking in with Agent Beneke via comm, though he could and did comm her at odd hours even when she was onworld.  Since she had spent the entire day with him, however, Hera wasn’t anticipating hearing from him and left her comlink in her cabin before she crossed the hall to Kanan’s room.

She didn’t bother to knock, just went in.  Kanan was sitting on his bunk, with his head down over something held between his hands. Hera put her back against the door after it closed behind her and said, “What is that?”

He looked up at her, his expression anguished, and raised the lightsaber a little.  It wasn’t his lightsaber – or, rather, it wasn’t the lightsaber he habitually carried.  It was the one that he had left locked in the drawer under his bunk when he had been arrested.

Hera crossed the room to him and put her arms around his shoulders.  Kanan tipped his forehead against her stomach, then after a moment put one arm around her waist.  He kept his other hand on the lightsaber.

He died, Hera thought miserably.  The other Kanan went down this path and he died.

As if he had heard the thought, Kanan raised his gaze to hers.  Hera ran her thumb over his cheekbone, then leaned down to kiss him. Kanan kissed her back, hard and desperate, bracing both hands against her waist as Hera climbed into his lap. She could feel the lightsaber he was still holding as a hard weight against her hip as she reached up to pull her shirt off.  Kanan kissed her again as soon as he could, releasing the lightsaber to run his hands up her back to her bra clasp.  It fell to the floor with a dull thunk, but neither one of them was paying attention.

*

Even after years away, Hera knew the Ghost too well not to be aware of every sound on it.  She had been half-asleep already, trying to pretend that she was back in her own bunk rather than in what should have been Sabine’s.

They were being quiet, but despite that and the two closed doors between them Hera was aware of them anyway.  She pressed her face down against the borrowed pillow and cried herself to sleep.

*

Kanan let her out of the cabin in the morning.  He was in all black again, though without his vambraces or heavy leathers, and looked tired. “Hera and Chopper went up to HQ,” he said, even though she hadn’t asked. “I’m guessing there’s no point in keeping you locked up since you probably know this ship as well as Hera does.”

“Well,” Hera allowed, glancing around the common room, “there have been some modifications.”

He gave her a wry look. “Anyway, I didn’t like – Hera hates being locked up.”

“I don’t think anyone enjoys it,” she pointed out. “But I’ve never had to be in a cell for more than a few hours.”  She hesitated, then said, “She told me what happened to you.”

He went very still. “What happened to me wasn’t her fault,” he said after a few moments of silence. “And as it happens she doesn’t know what happened to me, and she won’t if I have anything to say about it.”

“Why not?”

Kanan looked down as if he suddenly found the floor fascinating. “Because it was bad,” he said eventually. “And she doesn’t need to know how bad.”

“I think she knows more than you think,” Hera said.

He just shook his head. “I won’t do that to her.”

“You can – you can tell me, if you want,” Hera offered.  Sleeping on it had given her the distinct impression that this Kanan wasn’t all that different from her own Kanan, occupation aside, and Kanan would never have talked about it to anyone.  She thought he needed to.

“You don’t need to know either,” Kanan said.  There was weary grief in his eyes, and the shadow of remembered agony.  He ran a hand back over his short-cropped hair and then added, “Come on.  I’ll get you breakfast.”

Hera followed him into the galley.  It was better stocked than hers currently was, but that was mostly because she didn’t live on the Ghost anymore with a crew of five eating their way through an army’s rations on a regular basis.  Or on the Ghost at all anymore.

“Are you letting me out and feeding me because you’re going to help me?” she asked.

Kanan paused with his back to her and his hands on a cupboard door, then said, “That’s why Hera took Chopper with her.”  He bent his head over the cupboard, and Hera stiffened at the sight of something black on his neck, just beneath the high collar of his shirt.  It vanished again as he straightened up.

“He was a Jedi, wasn’t he?” he said quietly.

“Yes,” Hera said, swallowing back her surge of grief. “He was.”

“And that’s what killed him.”  He wasn’t looking at her.

“No,” Hera said. “The Empire killed him, but not for being a Jedi.  They didn’t manage that.”  She hesitated, then crossed the room to him.  “The Inquisition is gone in my universe.  He did that.”

Kanan swung around towards her, his eyes huge and shocked.

“There was an Inquisitor,” Hera said, watching him. “A Pau’an –”

“The Hunter.”  His voice was rough. “The Grand Inquisitor.”

She nodded. “Kanan gave himself up so that the rest of us could get away.  He was being held on a star destroyer over Mustafar –”

He flinched.

“We broke him out. Kanan dueled him and defeated him, and he died.”

Kanan dropped the plate he was holding.  He made an aborted motion with one hand, then stared at it, as if he wasn’t certain what he had meant to do.

“You know him?” Hera said hesitantly.

“He’s my master,” Kanan said after a long moment of silence. He touched his notched ear and added, “He did this.  Other things too, but…this first.  I –” He made another helpless gesture.

Into the silence that hung between them, his comlink began to beep.  Kanan glanced down at it and said distractedly, “I have to check in. Wait here.”

He left the room with long strides.

Hera waited until she had heard his cabin door slide open and shut behind him, then followed him.

There was a long silence from inside; presumably he was putting the rest of his uniform on.  Then Hera heard the holoprojector activate and a deep, mechanical voice say, “I felt a disturbance in the Force.”

Darth Vader.

Her lekku twitched with recognition.  Hera flexed her fingers, fighting down her urge to run; there was nowhere to go anyway. She had to trust that the next words out of Kanan’s mouth wouldn’t involve turning her over to him.

“Yes, my lord.” Kanan’s voice was harder to hear than Vader’s.  He was using the Coruscant accent Hera had only heard a handful of times, which he had told her once was the natural accent he had worked hard to get rid of after the fall of the Republic, when the Jedi were being hunted. “I felt it also.”

“My master desires the source of this disturbance,” Vader went on. “You will find it and bring it to him.”

“Yes, my lord,” Kanan said again.

“Do not fail me.”

“No, my lord.”

The hologram shut off. Hera stood there, fists clenching, waiting for Kanan to come out and find her there; when he didn’t emerge, she touched the door control.

He was kneeling on the floor, his hands over his face.  Without looking up, he said, “I told you to stay where you were.”

“What made you think I’d listen?” Hera asked.

“Optimism.”  He still didn’t look at her.

Hera crossed the room and knelt down beside him, putting a hand on one shoulder.  He flinched, but didn’t pull away, so Hera didn’t release him. If he had more armor besides his vambraces, he hadn’t put it on for this meeting, and this close Hera could see the Imperial cog tattooed on the back of his neck.  He looked young, painfully young, and wounded somewhere deep inside. She had never seen her Kanan look like that, not even after he had come back from Malachor.

“And are you?” she asked him quietly. “Going to turn me over?”

“I can’t do that,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You’re her.”

“I’m me,” Hera said. “I’m not her.  And you’re not him.”

“I know I’m not him.” He turned his head a little, though his gaze was still blank; Hera looked in the direction he had indicated and saw his lightsaber lying on the floor by the bunk.  No, not his lightsaber; the unfamiliar one with the blackened hilt was still on his belt.  It was Kanan’s lightsaber that was on the floor.

She got to her feet and crossed the room.  The lightsaber was cool against her palms as she picked it up, turning it over in her hands. If Kanan hadn’t dropped it all those years ago –

The past was past and couldn’t be changed.

Hera took a deep breath and went back to Kanan, kneeling beside him again.  He was staring at the floor, unseeing.  He flinched again as Hera put her free hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not him,” she repeated, offering him the lightsaber. “But that doesn’t mean you should let the Empire tell you who to be.”

[scoundrels-in-love]

Did you slip in through open doors and sit down, just to look at me like that (every day) | Chapter 2 - Jaime I

Brienne doesn’t mean to lie to her father. She just wants him to stop trying to set her up with men who aren’t Jaime Lannister, whom she’s secretly in love with. Unfortunately, that’s exactly who eagerly inserts himself in the narrative as her fake boyfriend. And her father is coming to King’s Landing in two weeks.

Truly, what could go wrong?

Also on AO3. Still part of @jbmonthlymadness Mutual Pining March.

He is so, so fucked.

Not quite the same way he thought a week ago, but still very much fucked.

Jaime glances over to where Brienne is watching a game on the couch for what feels like the hundredth time this half hour. While that itself isn’t unusual, everything else is. Tenseness in her shoulders he isn’t sure he will lure out with a stupid joke and then slay with even worse one, the way they’ve barely spoken to each other today and that his heart is being harshly kneaded by some huge, clawed animal. He’d say it’s a lion, but considering his House that feels just a little cliche .

Though, according to Elia, he is a walking cliche and a terribly executed one, at that. He sighs, realizes that the beer bottle really isn’t where he’s blindly grabbing for it, and averts his gaze from his fake girlfriend. There is exactly one word too many in that title and it’s neither girl or friend. If only he could convince Brienne of the same.

Jaime has tried , he really has. Gotten up earlier to make sure he can prepare her coffee and go on a jog with her, kissed her goodbye on the cheek, pestered her into having a lunch during work hours and ordered takeout to arrive just after she got home the days he knew he’d be home even later than her, sent her obscure memes about animals he found on some nature activist group on Raventome that he frankly didn’t get but hoped she would and have a good laugh between work and more.

Granted, he does all these things regularly anyway (except the cheek kisses, but he isn’t sure they’re as much of a highlight of the day for her as they are for him), but now it’s daily. And it’s not a bother, like Brienne tries to convince him to think, and Jaime would gladly do it for the rest of the foreseeable future. Even waking an hour earlier, although he likes to think that if they were properly dating, he’d persuade her to explore other workouts they could do in the time without leaving the house.

Elia suggested it’s because she’s stressed about the convention, but Jaime knows better. (“Of course you do, that’s why you suggested to be her fake boyfriend instead of telling her you’ve been head over heels for her for years now.”) No, Brienne’s work has nothing to do with the skittishness in her eyes, the way she freezes when he presses lips to her delightfully reddening cheek, sometimes daring to brush corner of her mouth or lingering a second too long because her proximity makes him a little dizzy, or stumbles over conversations topics as if they are larger than boulders she can easily best when hiking. She doesn’t even shut down his flirtations anymore - instead she looks away and mumbles something or trips into the next topic.

Their new arrangement is the cause, and the realization has been rolling toward him like a house sized morning star down a gentle slope.

“Jaime? Movie’s starting,” subject of his sweet agony and worry calls out and Jaime realizes he has quite literally spaced out. And that perhaps his inner narrator is going a little overboard. Elia would have another laughing fit if she knew.

He grabs the snacks and another beer and presents them to her with a smile, falls heavily in his spot that earns a little bit of glare from Brienne because, of course, she’s concerned for the springs and one of these days he will tell her he can think of more interesting things to wreck their couch with. ‘One of these days’ feels like an awful stretch and ‘a mountainclimb later’ sort of thing, though. He heaves a sigh.

“Everything alright, Jaime?” she asks and he looks at her, armed with a bright smile and an easy no, when they crumble faced with concern that colors the blue of her eyes deeper, yet gilded shade like the last glimpse of sunset paints the sea. Of course Brienne finds time to worry about him, despite seemingly thinking she’s standing between two cannons labelled ‘work’ and ‘fake boyfriend’, ready to shoot.

He wants to pull her close and press a kiss to her furrowed brow so much he can physically feel an alternate reality, one where he’s braver and does just that, manifest.

Unfortunately, in this one Jaime only laughs and plops his head in her lap, facing the TV. “Of course I am, B. But if you’re so worried, you can always pet my head and tell me it’s going to be alright.” He likes it when she says that, the way she sets her jaw mulishly and seems to simply talk it into existence with sheer willpower and kindness. But never for herself, only others.

Brienne stills for a moment, then, much to his relief, makes indigant noise and pushes at his shoulder slightly but with no real force. “I’m not a cushion, Jaime” she tells him and he shifts just so he can grin up at her.

“C’mon, I’ve been a good boyfriend this week, have I not earned one lap cushion coupon? I must use it before it expires.”

“ Fake boyfriend,” she says seriously and Jaime looks at the screen again so she can’t witness his grin shattering like the window of Casterly Rock’s kitchen when he had been six and too eager while playing ball. He might feel even more chastised than after the lecture Tywin had given him, which had left a stone grinding sharp edge in his gut for a week.

“Fine, but I am not going to pet your head. You are not an overgrown housecat, no matter how much you may act as one,” Brienne relents, but by the end of the movie, she brushes back a strand he has shaken into his eyes and halfway through the second movie, she actually runs her hand through his hair and he barely manages to remain still, instead of following her hand like foam graces a wave’s edge.

All things considered, Jaime feels re-energized for the next week and his little war campaign on Brienne’s heart. He likes to think of it as war, though she is not a thing to conquer despite her truly formidable walls, just to trounce the narrative she has set for herself.

Once, before that fatefully shitty night when a pipe in his first own apartment burst and Brienne had invited him to stay over until it was fixed (and then he never really left), they had talked about who they would be in Targaryen and Stark eras, both revealing their dreams about knighthood.

Already knowing her love for ridiculous, historical(ly inaccurate) romance novels, he had joked if she’d not like ballads written about her instead, but Brienne’s face had shuttered and she had reminded him that no one would go to war for her . “I would rather defend the innocent and fight than stay home a sad and unmarried maid,” she had concluded, before going off about Blue Knight and other warrior women of Tarth. Jaime had already known back then that in any lifetime she’d be worthy of many great songs - of love and otherwise. But the bridge of their friendship was tentative still and he had had no intentions of being the one to lay the siege on her heart.

And when he had wanted to, he had already been so deep in the annoying, best friend role and still so utterly not having his shit together he didn’t feel he had the right to start the march. Someone better would surely come along. Except no one has, three years later still, and Brienne seems to think it’s a sign she only deserves a photoshopped suit-hanger and Jaime would rather be pierced endlessly by her glowering and risk her friendship that he treasures above anything he has ever known, than passively let her continue believing that.

For now, he’s only dying because of work, as they are currently quite swamped. It doesn’t help at all that his brain is a little (or a whole lot, but who’s counting) occupied with various Romance-Brienne-So-Hard-She-Doesn’t-Know-What-Hit-Her strategies. His plans for Friday come to immediate stop when he arrives home and finds Brienne fallen asleep at the kitchen table, her laptop’s screensaver of pixelated Kingslayer and Blue Knight from their favorite cartoon bouncing around the screen. He had installed it the first week of living here and despite her initial grumbling, she has never changed or disabled it.

This would be easier if Brienne’s one quirk when working at home wasn’t changing her workspace every few hours, as if it helps her think. It’s one of her most restless habits and typically, Jaime finds it adorable, but now that he has to haul half-asleep Brienne to her room he… Who is kidding, he also finds it endearing.

“Jaime, I can walk,” she scoffs, but leans on him anyway and when he helps her lay down on the bed, her eyes are soft and a little dazed and he thinks of early spring mornings, when nothing but the birds and clouds are awake yet, against the blueness of the sky.

Brienne curls up and he pulls a blanket over her and she gives him a sleepy smile, so warm that the consistent pull toward her feels anchored to the sun itself. He follows it and leans down and presses lips to her forehead. She exhales softly and when he pulls back, her eyes are closed, but there’s an almost sad turn to her lips.

“I really don’t want this to end, Jaime.” Her voice is so quiet he almost doesn’t hear - he wouldn’t if he wasn’t so close. His heart does an odd thing in his chest, something that would make it more of a rope dancer than a lion leaping through a ring of fire.

Jaime brushes a strand of her hair back, gently, in an attempt to reassure what odd fear has burrowed into her heart. He shouldn’t be so happy every time Brienne expresses she doesn’t want to lose him, but even her brilliant light can’t erase generations of carefully cultivated selfishness. “It doesn’t have to.”

“But it will.” And then she nuzzles deeper in the pillow and he knows this is a conversation to be finished (or maybe repeated) when she’s actually awake. Quietly, he walks out of the room and when the door has shut gently, bounces toward the living room with a grin that everyone would tell him begs for a punch.

There is hope for him yet.

[aspiestvmusings]

MCU & SPIDERMAN: FAR FROM HOME SPOILERY REVIEW

This is my first, initial “review” of the latest MCU movie - “Spiderman. Far from Home” 

SPOILERS, BEWARE! for “SPIDERMAN: FAR FROM HOME”

“Everywhere I go/look, I see his face/I am reminded of Tony”

The memorial video made by Peter’s HS friends. The comic cans, the online/getty pics used, the editing, the music choice “Dolly Parton’s “I will always love you” … from “The Bodyguard” by Whitney Houston” & images of Tony, Steve, Nat, Vision… Tony…

all the Ironman drawings/art on the classroom wall in Peters school (as he & Ned talk about the vacation plan)

the Ironman mural on the building wall… when Peter escapes to the roof… from the “press conference”

the film/video choices on the plane from Americas to Europe  (next to: “Nova: Einstein Rosen Bridges” &  “The Snap,” & “Finding Wakanda,” & “Hunting Hydra.”) is a 114 minute long Tony/Ironman docu/film… story

I am pretty sure there are also some pictures/posters/images on wall/screen at the airport, when they arrive in Europe... but I need to go watch it again (3rd time) to be sure. I think I saw it, but am not certain....

The murals (with flowers & lit candles) in Europe (Prague)…

Tony’s tech… everywhere

The EDITH integrated in Tony’s glasses...that are now Peter’s. He’s the next Tony Stark. He is the only one who can be trusted with the power - everyone else would just use it for their own good. The Tony glasses being basically a supporting character in the film... central in many scenes. 

Tony’s friends & “enemies” (people, who remember/mourn him & people, who are jealous of him)

Things I noticed/The little things:  

The BLIP “in memoriam” video edit made by Peter’s HS kids: The font was comic sans! The song choice was “I will always love you” by Whitney Houston from the film “The Bodyguard” (original: Dolly Parton), and the “in memoriam” part included images of Tony Stark... twice (first & last), Nat, Steve, VISION...and also others.... And biggest question here is... does this mean that Cap is considered dead? Does this mean his time travel shenanigans lead to him/the team listing him as one of the casualties... to not reveal the details of what really happened & to keep the time travel & other things... a secret? 

BOH! MJs new favorite word. I loved how Peter used it back at MJ... when he doesn’t want to reveal what’s in the bag/box. 

That “cat” in that one scene kinda looked like GOOSE, but only  a little bit, so was it a random cat, or was it a “relative” of Goose? Maybe another flerken?

I absolutely loved how happy & excited Peter got when he was told that the multiverse is real, not just a theory (anymore). I’m kinda sad that it turned out to not be true... for now. (he’d love to learn about the multiverse, just like he’s now studying Thor, who was a myth before, in his physics class)

When Peter was betrayed by someone he trusted & had no one to turn to, who did he call...from Netherlands? Happy. He was the one person, who knew, knew him & could be trusted, and could help him. I’m glad he had that option...someone to turn to. 

That tulip field in Netherlands was beautiful and all, but I was kinda sad to see that plane land there... and then hover above it..for a while... 

Speaking of the plane: The Avengers Tower was sold & is now being re-built by someone else, The Avengers Headquarters was destroyed in Endgame & since Tony is gone (and everyone else ran  away/went to hiding), I am not sure it’ll be re-built (we saw that the clan-up after the battle was happening... in the background...during the Endgame end scene where they set up the time travel platform by the lake). And now the airplane was destroyed in FFH. So lots of Tony’s tech (suit making machines & other tech) is destroyed now. And even though  the introduction of EDITH suggests that he had many other labs & tech set up, “secretly” everywhere... still... it keeps getting destroyed. and since he’s not here to create anything new, all his work will soon be destroyed/gone if this keeps happening. 

Peter stripped not once...but twice...in front of someone... a girl: first the SHIELD European agent, who made him the new (black) secret european “Night Monkey” suit (pants) & later in front of the girl he really likes... MJ (shirt). 

Mysterio’s illusions: all those scenes were visually amazing/brilliant! The Prague fire monster, the bar scene illusions after Peter leaves - the twist!, the German “safe house” illusions  that ended with the train & then the London Tower bridge illusions. 

The bar scene “turn of events” twist moment was brilliantly scary: it showed just how “crazy” Mysterio was. That, together with the “illusion rehearsal” scene, when he learns about the missing projector...and threatens his whole team... that was same level brilliantly scary. 

“Appearances can be deceiving”  hahaha Oh, how it hinted at the end credits scene reveal. It was not just Happy trying to tells “Fury” about Mysterio and his deception, but... also how Fury & Maria Hill are actually... skrulls, who work for Fury, while he (and Hill?) are elsewhere, working on other projects. 

Skrull sleeper cells... mentioned by “Fury”... a reference to Captain Marvel & comics.... 

Happy throwing a shield...at the drone... His cap moment. And his comment about how heavy it is/hard it is, and he doesn’t know how Cap does it hahaha

Michelle and the medieval weapon..that she borrows from the museum vault... 

There are many artifacts in the Tower of London museum vault - the crown jewels, all kinds of medieval tools & weapons, and also... “IRON MAN” - medieval iron knight armor!

Peter taking a selfie as he swings in NYC...in the end. He’s swinging & reading texts/texting & taking selfies... 

The text/line on the fence on the street/in front of “construction site”.... when Peter/Spiderman is swinging to MJ in the end scene..on NYC streets... (Madison Square Garden) say:   “We’re excited  to show you what comes next. And there are numbers 1, 2, 3 & a ? (instead of number 4) under the text. This has many meanings: a) the people in the MCU/FFH universe  are excited to show the citizens what they’re building there. b) the MCU creators are excited to show/tell us/viewers/fans what’s to come next...both in Spiderman films & MCU in general (Phase 4). c) Also..according to fans, who know more, it’s also a reference to the “Fantastic 4″.  

The initials B.F.P. on the suitcase he takes to Europe aka the suitcase belonged to Peters uncle Ben (May’s husband). Too bad it, too,  along many other things & places...got destroyed..in this film. 

LOL at everyone knocking on Peter & Ned’s rooms door at the hotel theyäre staying in in Venice. Interrupting “Fury” (and Peter) & Fury’s reaction... (he is so done with being interrupted...every 5 seconds)

All the “upgrades” to the class trip in Europe & all the changes in itinerary... #IfTheyOnlyKnewWhyThePlansWeereChanged

The “Peter tingle” (aka The Spidey Sense) 

“What happens in London/Europe, stays in London/Europe?” Peter, who is/has been keen to keep his identity a secret, behaved strangely & boldly in Europe & especially at the end of the big “battle” in London...where he just stands on the bridge...without his mask & talks to & kisses MJ. In the middle of the bridge, at the center of big event... Are there no video/traffic 8etc) cams in Europe/LOndon in 2023/2024 MCu? Are there no cameras/smartphones that people use to take pics & vids of every big event they see... in 2023/2024 MCU? I found that surprising... based on all the attempts he made until now & in this film..to keep his identity a secret. 

Pepper Potts signing the big (in both size & sum) check from Stark Fund to May’s charity event. But not being able to attend the event herself. Most likely cause the actress is done with MCU, but... otherwise...interesting... to mention her like that & specify that she was unable to attend in person...

How many “vacations” has Fury taken over the MCU history? While I mostly think that this was the first... after Fury & CM were “reunited” during the Endgame events (BLIP) & the plan was formed after Tony was gone (they were both at his memorial service) & the returned Fury who had no more team on this planet, was kinda lost...) But I also kinda think he might’ve used the skrulls before to take vacations. I am pretty certain that we saw the real Fury in Captain Marvel, in Iron Man films...  and I am also pretty certain that he was himself in Infinity War/Endgame...because as he’s “dying” aka turning into dust he doesn’t turn into skrull.Though it is possible that the dusting doesn't count & the skull face is only revealed if a character actually dies. (this is why we can be certain Tony was Tony & Nat was Nat in Endgame) 

ETA

What I LOVED the most 

My absolute favourite scene(s) is the Peter & Happy at the Holland/Netherland  tulip field & on the plane, hovering above the tulip field scene(s) -  their “talk” as Happy patched up Peter’s wounds. Talking about being a superhero and making mistakes, about Tony...and more... 

That scene...to me...sums up...hopefully... what’s to come. It confirms what I thought would be the case. Tony was/is Iron Man and no one can & should replace him as Iron Man. So everyone asking Peter if he’s gonna be the next IM... everyone looking for the next mightiest protector of the earth... and looking at SM...cause everyone else seems to have disappeared... are just putting too much pressure on him. He’s not the next Iron Man. He is Peter. He is Spider Man. (though after that end twist... who knows... maybe he will put on an iron suit for a while...since he can’t be the unknown neighborhood hero anymore...now that everyone knows...) But to me it summed up peters journey in this film & sets up what’s to come. He needed some guidance & Happy provided it... he needed to realize that he’s he’s own person & his own superhero & he’s not there to replace Tony/IM or any other superhero

But yeah... I loved how Happy said it. When others pressured him & manipulated with him (Beck purposely making him feel inadequate by saying things like “if you would've done better, he might’ve not died”), the now Pilot was his best friend & the one person he could really talk superhero things with...the one person, who IMO helped him the most with his grief over Tony & all the feelings he had regarding that & the pressure he felt to be his successor. 

Peter is likely the person, who will take over Tony’s role..somewhat...with the tech and such, but he is Peter, not Tony. 

And the end scene in Endgame with Happy & Morgan..talking about cheeseburgers & now this scene in FFH with Happy & Peter talking superheroes, responsibility, Tony...and more... tells me that Happy is now the mentor-uncle to these kids now...kinda. 

...and when Peter, excitedly, yells “I love Led Zeppelin” when the iconic IM song “Back in Black” by AC/DC starts to play... haha... awesome

What I hoped would’ve been (will be explored in future films) explored/shown in more detail: 

THE BLIP & how it affected regular people. We only saw the comial bits/parts - the marching band of Peter’s school disappearing & reappearing & Aunt May reappearing in her apartment..that was no longer hers...as someone else had moved in (a family). When in reality... this film confirms my “theory/suspicion” that Avengers 3 & Avengers 4 - the Thanos snap & the Hulk (un)snap both created chaos everywhere. Both emotional, and legal..and other issues. 

The fact that the world is not in chaos... makes no sense. But then again... since NYC & several other places on Earth being battlefields during the Avengers vs Bad guys/aliens battles...in the past films...and being re-built really fast & people seemingly not panicking or having PTSD after the events... is a thing... then I guess only the main characters will remember & suffer after living through such events...everyone else seems to go on with their normal lives in a week or so... 

It did bother me a bit (even though I know this is a blockbuster film..and those don’t deal with such things...) that the very real repercussions of the snap & re-snap were not really shown or told. Just the funny Blip-video. And then the little bit we saw from the Aunt May held charity event for the homeless. That was the only real hint about the seriousness of those events in the fictional universe (even though she also made a joke about it on stage...but the cause itself is serious)

Things that bothered me

How no one seems to do any background checks in this universe. How no one seems to use any security measures. Like... no one checking up on Mysterio’s backstory (and yes, I know...his team helped create such amazing backstory & provided such great “proof”...that it fooled even “Fury” & SHIELD -- probably would not have fooled the real man, but... that’s the point...) but still... 

Also... Tony’s glasses not having any other safety measures & it being so easy to transfer over the power to someone else. And...despite Peter being vulnerable & trusting what others tell him (he probably thought Fury had checked up on Beck, but still... how & why did EDITH/the glasses not “scan” Beck...and reveal he’s a fraud? I know... that the only time when he’s looking at the illusionist when wearing the glasses is in the bar scene & they seem to be not “on”... still... why is the tech not scanning everything nonetheless? Though yeah... I know that the idea is that because of the characters emotional state they are vulnerable & easy to manipulate, and hence not thinking of checking “twice”...

MCU using the same backstory for yet another villain. Thats old. It’s done. Time to move on. I'm talking about Mysterio & how his backstory is that because he feels personally attacked by Tony Stark then that’s a reason (which justifies..in his mind, when it does not...and has not for any other past MCU villain, who thinks the same twisted way) his actions - destroying historical sights/cities & leaving behind casualties... not caring if there are innocent bystanders getting hurt. I will allow it this time, because Tony was in the center of this film, but this had to be the last time MCU uses the same “Tony hate” as the villains motivator. Also... I don’t trust Beck’s version of the story, so I would not be sure if he’s telling it as it was. He might be, but he might be not. (maybe he did come up with the idea, but perhaps his work contact stated that all creations during working for SI belong to the company, so he has no right to claim the tech as his own..no matter how much he regrets it after. Or perhaps he did (co)create it, but since his idea was weapons-based (destruction) & SI didn’t do weapons anymore, the tech was redesigned by Tony. But until MCU makes a stronger case... I’m not gonna blame Tony for “stealing” becks tech & claiming it as his ow. Also because I do not think Tony ever claimed in past films that he made the tech. He says it cost him a certain sum...though... So it’s even possible he “bought” the idea from Beck...and turned the weapon into therapy sessions... But even if mr. Beck was telling the whole truth and he was the sole creator of the tech & Tony “stole” it... none of it justifies his actions of purposely hurting innocent bystanders & destroying places. ) 

And I cannot believe how anyone can see Mysterio as the good guy, or sympathetic to Peter.  I might be wrong, but IMO all his “friendliness” in the beginning was a trick... part of the plan to earn Peter’s trust. It was part of the “illusion”, so even though I appreciate his comment “never apologize for being the smartest one in the room”, I don’t see it as anything other than fakeness. And I know I might be wrong & he might’ve really liked the kid & try to be friendly & appreciate him... up until “his team messed up & he had no other option than to get rid of all the loose threads”) 

Things I did not see coming: 

The train! I mean... at first I did not suspect that it was actually Beck, not Fury in Germany, but I became suspicious before it was revealed. And then I suspected that the illusion was not over yet, but... what I did not see coming was that train...moment. 

Also...during the London Tower bridge scene... I had a hunch that he’s pulling a double again..and the dying Mysterio on the ground was fake, but I did not see it coming that in reality he was standing right next to spidey, while pointing a gun at the kid. I had thought he was “hiding” somewhere instead. So that kinda surprised me...

What surprised/confused me

What surprised me a bit was seeing THAT character (William) from IM1 being on Team Mysterio. Yes, he was one of Tony Stark’s Stark Industries previous employees, but  it confused me a bit that he blames Tony, when he should've seen Obadiah Stane (who yelled at him for not being Tony Stark & not being able to create a miniature arc reactor, when Tony could do it in cave...with no high tech..using just a box of scraps) as the one to blame -- his anger should’ve been directed at (based on what has been shown on screen so far) at the man who yelled at him in IM1. 

But I guess there’s either a bigger story there after that that the MCU writers/directors decided to not reveal just yet (as we saw him take that thumbdrive after the download was completed at the end of FFH) or Mysterio simply was able to manipulate people so well & rallied them against their former boss, making everyone see him as the bad guy & the source of all their problems. 

THEORIES: 

WHAT IF... the NYC “fake news broadcast” was an illusion created by Mysterio/histeam? This would make it much easier for Marvel to have several other movies released in the next few years...before the next Spiderman & go easier on Spiderman? This way we would not miss a lot of time & there’d be no need to clear his name. they could just have the movie take place right after Far from Home (and prior to the coming movies events)...or they could start with a flashback to the end of this film & the  fade to “2 years later” or something. The last bit is also how they can still release the next Spidery film in a few years, while having several otehr films events happen in between... use a time jump early in the film... after a “flashback”...to the time Peter was considered a villain

[paperspell]

Kingdom Hearts || Three Half Promises

Rating: Teens and up

@mimiplaysgames and @lyssala are most definitely the MVP of this work. That being said, go check out their stuff!  

Summary: A character study of Aqua and Terra from childhood to adulthood

Chapter 4: The sweet wilderness | I’ll show you where the dandelions grow

As promised, during the next following days Aqua tries her best, not only to be neutral, but to treat Terra with gentleness. She lets him have first pick at everything, from the food spread to chores to bath times; Terra hasn't noticed at first – he is so used to getting things without sharing anyhow – but soon he grows suspicious of her graciousness. With no preamble to her actions, she sees the confusion sweep through his face, and that in itself she finds wickedly hilarious. Terra examines whatever help she gives with shrewdness, as if she has poisoned the salt shaker, or hid the broomsticks, or flooded the bathroom if it was his turn to wash.

As retaliation, he takes three times the number of books he regularly does from the shelves, leaving her no choice but to work around it and study sections which hasn't been mention by Eraqus yet. Terra also distances himself further until training time. He does more physically taxing warmups, like jumping higher than her, just to show he can. When they spar, he wins without relenting on any of his attacks.

Despite constantly losing, Aqua feels herself gaining the experience Eraqus said they need, not just from a Master, but from each other. She still can't manage a sliding dash the same way Terra can, but her footwork is getting better, her blocks are solid, and the handling of her wooden sword is not so clumsy anymore. Terra seems to sense Aqua's improvement as well, and their matches become fiercer.

One day Eraqus ends their fight early and surprises her with a high compliment on how far she's come in a matter of a few sessions. She beams at this, and although Terra is off to the side, decidedly not happy at this recent development, it does not dampen her spirits.

The Master continues on to give them with another great announcement: both students have more or less gotten the hang of using quick blitz. They are ready to move on to various stunning strikes.

"We will save that for tomorrow, as it is a big lesson," Eraqus clarifies, just as Terra's beginning to strap his armor tighter. "Instead, why don't you two take the time to work on other aspects of endurance? I think a race across mountain path will do."

Since they're already at the summit, the race will finish by the forecourt. Whoever reaches the middle of the base wins.

"Simple enough, I'm sure," Eraqus says, standing at the starting line.

"Yes, Master."

The two of them crouch on either side of Eraqus, Terra to the left, Aqua to the right. As Eraqus begins the countdown, Aqua can't help but feel secretly pleased; she was the fastest girl of her grade in Radiant Garden. On some occasions, she was an even match for the upper years, and so when they held tournaments during summer school, she was always within the top eight. Although Terra is smirking now, thinking the race is his, she plans to give him a small shock by the end of it. Their sneakers grip the grass, their arms poised to take flight–

"Go!"

The two of them sprint past their Master, almost equal in distance before setting a steady rhythm. They rush through the narrow pathway set by the mountains before emerging on the other side. They trample onwards, and Terra inches forward. Aqua tries to keep pace with him, but it's then that she feels something is off.

Whereas she normally is able to get an early head start in any race she's participated in, she can barely keep up with Terra now. It's all wrong – she's losing her sense of balance, can hardly find steady footing on this uneven road. The dirt flies to her face as her feet land and pebbles bounce, hindering her steps. Terra gains more momentum further down the path, leaving her stumbling after him.

Aqua gasps as she trips slightly from a dimple in the road. In an abrupt understanding, she figures winning is not as simple as she thought.

She hadn't expected him to be so quick, especially since she is longer legged than he is. But here and now, there is nothing else to describe him except free flying. His body, so used to years of heading down this area, already knows the swells and dips of the land, whereas hers is just now adapting and learning. His feet do not snag, he leaps through puddles and trenches with ease, and yet still, there's more to it.

Every time Aqua is on the verge of catching up, Terra would dive into an unmarked route, leaving her with full advantage of the smoother road. Not that it matters much, because still, his decision has an unseen advantage of being a shortcut, optimized only if one knows where to precisely put down their steps to make it matter, which he has down to science.

The gap's becoming wider, leaving little judgment as to who is going to win, and so Terra, in one bold move, actually turns his head to look back.

In that moment alone Aqua feels her legs tense, her vision clears. He is ahead, but just a few paces. She begins to time her breathing, widen her sprints and the swing of her arms. Looking for breaks in the ground, she plants her feet where she deems best, never hesitating for more than a quarter of a second. With the evening of her breath, she can feel herself pulling forward now, almost reaching to where Terra is.

He comes in first, reaching the forecourt a full five seconds before she could. They pant for breath as Eraqus comes to meet them, but before he fully arrives, she can see the confident smirk playing around Terra's lips again. Of course, he had expected this, saw his advantage sooner than she did.

"Nice win," Aqua says, once she catches her breath. She reels in her annoyance, remembering what Eraqus had mentioned last night. To show camaraderie, she extends her arm for a handshake.

Terra stops short. His expression turns to one of brief confusion to that of sharp suspicion. He seems undecided, trying to see whether the congratulation she offers is genuine. However, he doesn't have enough time to work through it, because soon the Master is a few feet away, and so he musters up a monotone "thanks" before it becomes too awkward. She drops her hand back to her side.

"A splendid race," the Master intones, "the both of you were neck-to-neck during the last leg. If it stretched on a bit further, I can't honestly say who I think would win."

Terra is fully frowning now. Aqua hides a smirk of her own.

They go in for lunch, heading towards the kitchen, where Eraqus bakes them a loaf of good, warm bread, each a thick slice full of nuts and raisins. There's a pot of stew in the middle of the table, the smell rich with wild game and vegetables. When they seat themselves for the meal, Aqua and Terra both reach for the soup ladle at the same time.

Aqua withdraws her hand quickly, gesturing for Terra to serve himself a bowl. After a week's worth of this, she can now sense Terra's growing annoyance.

"It's fine," he says, voice suddenly sweet as syrup, "you're the guest."

He smiles placidly, but it does not reach his eyes.

"Terra, I would hardly call Aqua a guest," Eraqus corrects, without looking up, still slicing bread for himself. "She's been here long enough, and this is her home as well as yours."

"Okay," Terra nods, and without skipping a beat reaffirms with, "then ladies first."

The two pupils stare at each other, both tight-lipped. Aqua is wearing some of Eraqus' old clothes, from when he was younger. Although the Master had trimmed the ends and sleeves, it still looks too big, and drapes around her like a tunic. She has a feeling Terra sees her as anything but a lady, probably less since the day she's arrived.

She takes the ladle, pouring a generous amount. She drops it just as she finishes, so the moment Terra reaches for it, his hand catches the splash from the broth.

"Sorry," Aqua says, sounding not sorry at all.

"Don't worry," replies Terra with equal coolness, "you can't help it."

The Master clears his throat, and they both settle down. Terra wipes his hand with a cloth. Aqua tears a sizeable chunk of bread to her mouth. With Eraqus mediating in between them, they don't dare to disrupt the peace, passive or otherwise.

At one point Aqua stretches her leg under the table, only to bump it into Terra's. They both jolt before resuming their glare. Terra expects her to retreat back to her corner of the table, but Aqua plants her feet right next to his, since he's on her side, not his own. His legs are invading her space and stubbornly, stubbornly, she's not going to give it up. However, judging from the grim determination of his face, neither is he.

Terra's foot is steadily pushing Aqua's back. In one swift motion, she brings her heel crashing down on the tip of his shoe. To the boy's credit, he did not utter a sound. However, his fingers clench around his spoon so tight she could see the whites of his knuckles. The silent war rages on, both of them becoming more generous with overly polite formalities.

Eraqus sips his tea with a brief sigh escaping his nose.

During the span of the next few days, Eraqus goes on to dividing their chores in a way that makes it so the two of them would be on opposite sides of the castle, or at the very least, separated by surrounding walls. Both morning and evening duties are carefully paced so that Aqua and Terra would be out of each other's way when it comes to cleaning, prepping food, or maintaining the scenery outside. Aqua suspects Eraqus wants the both of them to resolve their issue on their own; he has little desire to step into something that is their responsibility, let alone time to do so.

As of recently, the Master has started traveling again to restock on food supplies and other necessities. Sometimes he will be gone for a whole day, leaving behind food and instructions for his students. After Aqua's measurements are taken, Eraqus visits an old colleague to meld proper armor for her. He also gets something for Terra too, handing the boy a burlap sack one night after dinner. Terra disappears for the whole morning on the day after, emerging from the woods only for lunch.

With so many hours left unsupervised, Aqua is free to catch up on things. However, without any company to urge her forward, she grows tired of spending hours alone, practicing the stun strikes they've just learned or studying more history. Additionally, Terra still hasn't returned the books he hoarded away, and so Aqua spends the early half of the days racing through mountain path alone. She trips less now and can actually brace her feet better on the road. She makes a game out of chasing her shadow, which usually stretches in front of her during late afternoon, when she races from the forecourt to the summit.

On the fourth day of Eraqus' absence, Aqua goes out for her usual run. She stands at the very edge of the circular court and then, mimicking Eraqus' sage like tone, remarks, "This shall do perfectly. Now, on the count of three…"

And when the count ends she shoots past the even floor to the rocky earth. Although she knows she can never catch up to her shadow, she still tries to pursue it with unparalleled gusto, sometimes envisioning Terra in its place. It works her up all the more, and she thinks how next time, next time, she won't even give him a chance to look back.

The air still holds some of the chills of winter. When Eraqus had went to fetch her from Radiant Garden, spring had just started. By the feel of it, in Land of Departure it is still early in the season, with some of the flowers just shy from blooming.

As she speeds onward, she recalls a particular lesson about the seasons, in which all the worlds that Eraqus has discovered so far rotate around their suns at the same speed, always around the same positions and finishing their year with 365 days. The Master had said it's as if the worlds know that had once been one and are trying to coincide with each other.

"Remember, each world does have a consciousness of its own, so it wouldn't be all that surprising if they are trying to replicate the pattern it knew once before," Eraqus informed them, before moving on to the tilt of a world's axis.

The wind rakes its coolness over her hair, snapping her out of the memory. She makes it to the summit in record time, plopping down on grass near the pond, to dip her feet in the water. The stillness of her body relaxing comes and goes, taking away her adrenaline and leaving behind boredom at its wake. There is something else too, something she can't really place until the hush of her surroundings reminds her – she's alone.

For all the peace she sought back when she didn't have it, she wants nothing more right now than the bustling of other children, the midnight whispers and full belly laughter during recess. How Terra can stand being by himself for this long is a mystery.

She opens her eyes in a lazy haze.

Aqua hasn't seen him since breakfast. She had lunch by herself a while ago and swept around the castle long enough to know he wasn't there. Usually, he would make at least another appearance throughout the day before the Master came back at night. She's about to wonder where he is exactly, before she sternly reminds herself that there's no point – because she shouldn't, in fact, doesn't care at all.

The water sloshes as she stands on her feet. She decides to run back to the castle again, just to add in extra practice. She jogs until it comes to view again, but instead of going to the entrance, Aqua finds herself doing a quick turn, upping her pace to a full sprint as she heads towards the pine trees. Her moves become so automatic she doesn't sense him until they bump into each other round the neck of the woods. They both fall to the ground, hard. It takes a mere second, but as soon as Terra regains his senses, he scowls at her.

"What was that for?" he huffs, rubbing his forehead.

"It wasn't on purpose," she bites back. She's rubbing her forehead as well, wincing at the pain.

"Yeah? Well, be more careful."

She doesn't have a good argument for that, but luckily, a pillar of light shines at the front of the castle. Eraqus has returned.

They look at each other for a beat, before scampering off to meet the Master. Without thinking about it, they up their speed down the road until they are racing against each other.

Terra yet again has the lead, however this time, to her immense satisfaction, Aqua notes that the gap is smaller than before.

They reach Eraqus just as the last of his armor fades.

"Master..." Terra wheezes, bowing in a way Aqua knows is less as a sign of respect, and more as an excuse to catch his breath. Although she is in no position to judge.

"W-welcome back..." she chokes out, heaving just as hard.

Eraqus smiles at the sight of them.

"I'm glad to see both of you hard at work even when I'm away. Did you have a good race?"

"Yes sir," Aqua replies, because it's obligatory, and then because she can't help it, adds "I think I've gotten faster."

"Yes, I saw," Eraqus remarks. "Your progress as a whole has improved drastically. Didn't I mention before? You have great potential."

Aqua grins at this. Her smile widens at the sight of new clothes and her very own armor, which Eraqus reveals in a flourish of light. The clothes have little flair, more on the solid and simplistic side, but she knows on sight they'll fit better, and the fact they are completely new and not worn is enough. The armor is in its repressed form, shining as double shoulder bands. They gleam as sunlight hits it.

"Thank you, Mr. Eraqus." She hugs the gifts close to her chest.

"I'm glad you like it," the Master chuckles. "You should put them away when you get the chance. I dare say your closet has been empty long enough."

The Master takes a moment to survey her enthusiasm, before remembering another gift he has yet to give.

"Ah, and Terra, this is for you."

The usual burlap sack that would normally bring delight from Terra, its contents appreciated fully only by him, is now greeted with aloofness. Aqua notes his quiet acknowledgement of the bag, and his utterance of a colorless "thank you."

It comes out quiet, so much so that it's lost under the thumps of Eraqus' retreating steps. When Terra accepts the gift, his left hand clenches the pouch tightly.

Both students hurry off in opposite directions, each clutching their presents with various degree of gratitude.

With Eraqus' business done, he becomes present around the castle again, which means once more the two children are forced to be amicable around each other. Even though Terra's comment has lessened in bite, his mood, if possible, has turned sourer. The fine line between rivalry and contempt has been breached somehow, and Aqua can't pinpoint how or when it happened. Crossing swords with Terra has become dangerous, and he would laugh meanly at her losses. He drops their mocking formalities to openly ignore her, or if the moment presents itself, to rudely correct her on this and that.

Aqua fumes in silence during one particular evening, rubbing at a sore spot where Eraqus' blade had reached her, and where Terra had taken advantage of it during their match directly after. She creeps to the opposite wing, where Eraqus' room is, to ask for some ointment when she hears the Master's voice, stern enough to make her spot at her tracks.

"…and nobody deserves it, least of all Aqua. Understand?"

There's some resistance in the air before a response.

"Yes Master," Terra grumbles, and then because he can't help himself, "but she's alright so far. Why do I even have to help–"

"Because," Eraqus interrupts, before Terra can really voice his displeasure, "if your roles were reversed Aqua would never refuse to help any new students I choose. If I told her to look after you in the same way you were supposed to for her, I have no doubt she would readily agree. She has a certain light about her that makes her reach out to people, not push them away. Certainly not out of jealously, and even less so out of fear."

"I'm not jealous!" Terra exclaims. "And I'm not scared of, of anything."

"My boy, admitting these unsavory facts is the first step to confronting the darkness. And hardly anyone is afraid of nothing."

This time the end of Eraqus' sentence is met with heavier silence, and an even more stilted "yes Master."

Aqua is about to edge away from the scene when she discovers she doesn't have to; Terra rushes out, his face darkened by what had transpired. At the sight of her, he's completely outraged. He opens his mouth, and despite not wanting to, she flinches.

No words come. In the heat of his frustration, Terra stomps off. Aqua hears him going down the steps, follow by the entrance doors being swung open. Feeling guilty, she follows him to the forecourt, where he's pacing away.

"How much did you hear?" he demands, as soon as his surprise wears off.

"Not much," she admits. "Just the part about me. I don't know anything else, really."

He stares hard at her. After some time mulling it over, he drops his gaze.

"Okay." He says. He clears his throat. "Okay."

The lapses of speechlessness between the two are always terrible, but this feels like the worse one yet. Aqua bites her lip.

"But I–" Aqua starts, before her voice catches, "I think we should try to help each other, instead of always fighting. That's what Mr. Eraqus mentioned right? It'll be easier that way."

"That is easier," he agrees, "especially for you. But your light and mine are different. There's no way I can – I can…"

Terra stops pacing. Unable to continue with this line of thought, he gives it up entirely before rounding at her with another.

"And it's not 'sir' or 'mister,'" he says sharply. "It's Master. Master Eraqus."

Although some part of her knew what Terra said was right, Aqua couldn't help but feel a rise of indignation. Terra huffs in a haughty manner, practically embellishing an unspoken so there, now you know, remark. And then, to quite possibility ensure he's getting the last word on things, he makes to go.

"Wait."

"Now what," he sighs.

"I want a race," she blurts out, surprising even herself. As soon as it leaves her mouth, however, she's sure the whole reason she followed him out tonight is to propose a challenge to end all this.

"We're gonna be doing that tomorrow, so what's the point?"

"Practice," she states simply. By the jerk of Terra's body before he halts, Aqua knew she's peaked his interest. Additional training is something he's never refused. "We can race through the same path as earlier, right to the summit."

Terra stands with his arms crossed, deciding whether or not they should, but as she heads over to the starting point, he follows. When she crouches, so does he.

"Okay, so on my mark–"

"No," he says crossly, "on mine."

"Alright…"

Terra begins the count to three. Just as the last count leaves his lips they both burst forward, feet flying over the dirt road. The wind whips around them, hitting their faces as they each pull forward to gain the lead on the other.

Tonight is just as perfect as the last, bright enough to see the path before the shine of each lantern, quiet enough for them to just concentrate on their evening out their breaths as they pump their legs harder, swing their arms faster.

Aqua feels confident. They are neck to neck, and Terra isn't able to build that distance he had during their previous races. Although she cannot see his face, she can feel his shock at her improvement, his pace no longer lax as he struggles to genuinely gain more speed. Still, he reaches the next bridge first, which forces her to splash through the stream.

No matter – she's not afraid to go off path. She'll embrace any route, so long as they led to the finish line. Terra, sensing the difference, tries to monopolize the smoothest road, which leaves her to trend on slippery grass, gravelly dirt, and more ponds to slosh in. Her sneakers are caked with mud by the time the bridge to the summit comes to view. Her chest is aching as she attempts to suck in more air. Despite it all, it's wonderfully, deliriously, fun.

Aqua laughs out loud.

Her mood further heightens as she inches closer to Terra, his back ridged as he detects her moving up, sensing that the impossible is happening. He's startled now, with his vain attempts to push forward, but she knows in her heart she's faster, and so, without much resistance, she breaks free from their matching pace. She vaguely notices Terra's alarm as he falls back, because soon his presence drops from behind her altogether.

Aqua slaps the mountain's base as she slows down to a halt. She gulps down air, wiping the sweat off her face. After righting herself, it dawns on her – she's won the race. Success is sweet on her tongue, and she's flush with triumph. She turns, ready to drink in Terra's disbelief.

He isn't there. Strange, she has expected him to be by her side now.

"Terra?" she shouts, her voice rising in pitch ever so slightly.

"Ergh…"

A low moan answers her, and she twirls around to see the boy lying face down on the ground. He was getting up slowly to a sitting position as she runs back towards him.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he says, rubbing his nose. "Just tripped."

When he removes his hand, she could see blood smeared on it. Her eyes make their way back to his nose, and she's stunned to see a heavy trickle gloss over his lips, to the point of his chin, where they curve and land, with a prominent splatter on his white shirt.

Aqua extends a hand to help him up, which he ignores. He gets up quickly enough, trying to brush it off like it's a small matter. But on his first step, his ankle shakes, and Terra trembles horribly before he falls back down.

"What's the matter?" she asks in alarm. All thoughts of her victory vanish instantly.

"My ankle," Terra hisses. "I think I sprained it."

"You–" She gulps. "You really think so?"

Terra tries rotating and flexing his foot. He winces and lets out a shaky breath.

"I'll go get Eraqus–"

"No," Terra calls out thickly before she can take a step. "It's way past after hours. We could get in trouble for being out so late, and so far away from the castle. The Master…the Master doesn't need to know…"

Terra's a bit white in the face now, with his bloody nose showing no sign of stopping, even when he tips his head up. Aqua reaches for his hand, but he pulls away. He stands shakily on his good foot, but it isn't enough to support him.

"You need help–"

"I'm fine," he retorts firmly. "I've gotten plenty of sprain ankles before. They always go away after a few days."

"We don't have a few days," she reminds him. "We need to get back to the castle now."

Terra chews the inside of his cheek, knowing the truth of her words. His good foot is still shaking, and he's about to lose his balance. He sighs hard through his nose, turning to her. She walks over to his other side, looping her arm around his waist to grab a fistful of his shirt. He leans on her, however begrudgingly, as they match steps with one another. It's the best Aqua can hope for, and she's careful not to brush his arm as they hobble away from the mountains and back to the castle.

The two try to sync as best they can, but what ends up happening is either Aqua's too fast, or Terra's too slow, and they strive on, tripping over every loose rock.

"Watch it!" Terra yelps, at what is the tenth time they nearly fell.

"Sorry…" Aqua mutters.

The wind is picking up, with a hint of chill that wasn't there before. Aqua shivers. Maybe Terra hasn't realized it just yet, but there is a faint rustle in the bushes. Something is howling in the distance, far and yet too close to her liking. Occasionally yellow eyes will blink at them from the dim, and her heart races, recalling the attack that happened so long ago in Radiant Garden. It's tempting to go running back to the castle on her own, away from all this. But there's still Terra to think about, and really, she rather be together than alone in the darkness.

It's quiet when they finally get back. All the rooms had their lights put out. She's glad for the rugs on the corridors; they do well to muffle their steps and Terra's dragging foot. Careful not to stain the carpet, he pulls his shirt up to soak up the blood from his nose.

Terra whispers directions on how to get to the medic room. Up until now, she hasn't been even aware of its existence. On ground floor, they make two rights until they reach the end of the hall to a small room no bigger than a standard bedroom. Two beds are crammed on opposite corners, one of them looks slept in before, and is covered with clean sheets, while the other has no such impression. She wonders how often Terra got hurt, and how little Eraqus knows about it. She sets him down the bed, and Terra has a look of instant relief now that pressure isn't being applied on his bad foot.

"What now?" she inquires.

"I need some ice from the kitchen. It'll help with the swelling," he says, his voice muffled with a rag soaking the remaining blood on his upper lip. He points at his ankle, which is now plump and angry red.

"Okay," she nods. On her way out, she notices a roll of bandages and tosses it to him, which he catches effortlessly.

It's a hard feat, suppressing her nervousness while speeding through the dining hall to the double doors that leads to the kitchen. It's dark, so she has to feel for the ice chest. She opens it, groping for the ice, until she secures a pouch and drags it out. Slowly, almost catlike, she creeps back out of the kitchen. Aqua entertains the thought of running back. After all, Eraqus' study is well above them. There is little possibility of him still being awake at this hour–

The lights flicker on. She nearly drops the bag.

"Aqua," Eraqus says with astonishment. "What are you still doing up?"

Eraqus prods lightly at Terra's ankle, causing the boy to wince. His nosebleed has stopped, gratefully. Despite that, the drops on Terra's shirt are sure tells, and Aqua's confident they haven't fooled Eraqus for a second.

After a few more examinations, the Master confirms that a few days' bed rest is in order. Terra can walk around, but not without a crutch. The ice packet is pressed directly on the swollen joint, causing him to shudder violently.

"Sir, but what about a cure spell? Or a potion?" Aqua asks, once she finds her voice.

"Those are needed only for flesh wounds, my dear," Eraqus explains. "This is a bit more complicated than that. Aside from battle, we must not rely too heavily on magic or aides to help us. The body is also a conscious thing – it needs to learn to heal itself when it matters most."

He goes to check on her as well but does not discover any new marks of injuries. Once the Master notes that both of them are relatively well, he starts pressing them with questions.

"May I ask what you two were doing at the mountain trail, and at this hour?" he asks, quietly but no less serious.

They look away, ducking from the full onslaught of his question.

"We were just training Master." Terra says, but he ruins his confidence with the shifting of his eyes.

"Even though it is midnight?" Eraqus is not convinced. "You should know better, Terra."

"I-I," Terra splutters, tongue tied further as Eraqus raises a questioning brow. "I forgot..."

"That was very foolish of you, my boy. Various wild animals roam at this time of night – fortunately you have not encountered any of them, lest your injuries would have been far, far worse."

"Yes Master," Terra mumbles bitterly. The strands of his hair cover his eyes as his head hangs low with shame.

Aqua peeks over Eraqus' back, remorse clawing her chest.

This is all wrong. It was she who suggested they race through the mountains, she who threw caution to the wind. And yet here is Terra remarkably, inconceivably, taking the blame on both their behalf. She can't phantom why; he's made it very clear he despises her.

But as Eraqus remarks exactly what punishment should follow, it dawns on her.

Terra is not fighting back against the Master. In fact, he embraces it as just another one of his duties maybe because – as absurd as it sounds – he's now fully accepted his responsibility to help her. As the Master said, Terra knew better, and she did not. Now he has to reap the extra chores bestowed on him once he's finished healing.

"U-um..." She coughs. Neither one of them looks her direction. "Mister – uh...Master Eraqus! Sir! I..."

Aqua feels her throat closing up. However, it is too late to retract her call. Master Eraqus turns to face her in surprise.

"It was my fault too," she says, unable to keep the small quiver from her voice. "I challenged Terra to race me. It was wrong, but I told him it was for extra training...even though I just wanted to beat him at something. A-and he got hurt because of me."

Master Eraqus is silent for a while, considering the change of events.

"Is this true, Terra?"

Terra opens and closes his mouth. For the first time, he's looking at Aqua, not with the degree of sharpness she's used to, but with wonderment and maybe a little bit of hope.

"I...yes. It's true Master." He confirms this, still staring at the girl who is curiously sticking by him, even though she's shaking like a leaf.

Even more strange is yet another twist; after a moment of surveying both of them, Aqua swears she can see the corners of Master Eraqus' mouth twitch upwards, just a little.

"How unfortunate Aqua," Master Eraqus continues, "I will have no choice but to punish the both of you, then."

Both students' jaws gape open.

"However noble your intentions, both of you have still broken rules, and on top of that, got hurt doing so." Master Eraqus brushes past Aqua to the doorway. "When Terra recovers fully, both of you will be put in kitchen duty, and you are to sweep dust for both wings of the castle. Understood?"

They snap, ridged in place. "Yes Master!"

He leaves them then, and Terra breathes out a sigh of relief. Apparently, this is considered a light sentence, if his relaxed face is anything to go by. He looks much better than he did, moments ago – still, she feels the need to apologize, mainly because the guilt still hasn't settled right with her; if anything, it's threatening to come out.

"Sorry," she croaks.

"It's not your fault," Terra mumbles. "I mean, I'm the one who fell–"

He looks up to meet her eyes and is immediately startle by the tears pooling around them.

"Wha – stop!" He panics. "Stop crying! S-stop crying…please…!"

Aqua isn't even aware of it. She touches her face, smearing the tears trailing down, and responds with equal shock.

"O-oh," she sniffs, "sorry…"

She swipes at her face. Terra has good enough manners to throw some tissues her way, which she catches effortlessly. Through the tears, she can make out Terra's worried expression.

"Hey," he whispers, "are you…are you okay?"

"Yeah…" She blinks back the tears fiercely. "I-I don't know – why…"

Aqua can't find the reasons for the tears, even after they stop falling. Terra eases up a bit as her face dries, before speaking again.

"Why…" Terra tilts his head to look at the ceiling. "Do you really need…a reason to care about the things that matter?"

They turn to look at his bandaged ankle.

"It was dumb of me to run and fall like that," he says, low to the point she nearly couldn't hear it. "But…well, you were pretty fast."

He admits this with a crooked smile. Sheepishly, just enough to almost be an apology. But whether it is meant to be one or not, it's the first she's ever gotten from him.

"Thanks," she says, once she finds her voice.

Because it's late, and they need dire rest, she leaves him be.

It takes a couple of days, but once Terra's ankle heals and both children finish their punishment, Terra takes her to see his project in the woods. It's a few yards away from the creek bed the Master had shown them weeks ago, the very place Aqua had yearned to explore deeper into. Here is where Terra has stationed his secret place; a bed of flowers and vegetables growing in tilted soil, protected by sturdy planks of lumber that makes a fence. The burlap sacks he had received from Eraqus reveal themselves to be seed packs and fertilizers.

They are surrounded by towering tall pines, oaks and evergreens. However, even with this amount of seclusion, the sun makes its way through, shining past the leaves to cast streams of gold that tickles their hair, their shoulders, their feet. The air is sweeter here, in this small space, and she can hear the songs on birds much clearer.

Terra peers at her to the side, rubbing his neck. She gives him a tentative smile.

His eyes flicker at her expression. His arm drops, and the break from his face, as if something is stirring up inside him, clenches at her. He returns her smile in full.

That's when Aqua sees it, from where he stood – the first dandelion of the year, and she knows; spring has come at last.

[charcubed]

“I’ll Be Home For Christmas”

Christmases in the lives of Sherlock Holmes & John Watson.

Read it below, and on AO3.

Don't think about how sad their Christmases have been year after year... and imagine what their wonderful Christmas will be like after they've found their happiness.

(The first half of this hurts, the second half is happy and worth it, and the entire thing is written to make you emo. Trust me.)

––––––––––––––––––

Don’t think about John’s first Christmas alone after Sherlock “died.”

Don’t think about him instinctively glancing at scarves and various items in store windows, unconsciously shopping for a present for Sherlock before he remembers Sherlock is dead. Don’t think of him taking a sharp breath and clenching his fists when the pain hits again for the billionth time.

Don’t think about him grocery shopping while Christmas music plays over the radio overheard, and of the song “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” playing, and of his hands starting to shake so he leaves behind everything he’s carrying and marches out of the store to try to breathe.

Don’t think of him pouring out two glasses of alcohol on Christmas Eve by himself, one for him and one for Sherlock’s memory, toasting to the sky and saying “Happy Christmas” as he downs both… or of him downing another glass, and then another, and then the whole bottle and maybe even another bottle until he loses track and later blacks out. Don’t think of him waking up the next morning to his very concerned sister taking care of him in a rare Watson sibling role reversal, and of her telling him that’s it, Johnny, you’ve got to move out of this flat. It’s killing you. Don’t think of John finding it hard to care.

Don’t think of Sherlock’s first Christmas after his “death,” somewhere in Europe and so very, very alone.

Don’t think of Sherlock in the poorest sections of a town very far away from London, surrounded by strangers and deliberately acting like one himself. Don’t think of him seeing the Christmas stuff start to creep in and around the area, or of how it makes him think of warmth and London and home and John, or of how it makes him miss John even worse than usual–which is saying a lot.

Don’t think of Sherlock getting captured for interrogation by some horrible people right before Christmas, of of him spending his Christmas Day being taunted by his captors telling him “Merry Christmas” in foreign languages as they kick him on the ground. Don’t think of his captors leaving him alone for awhile so Sherlock allows himself to cry, telling himself it’s just part of the character he has to play, but in reality knowing he’s just unbearably sad and homesick down to his lonely and hurting bones.

~

Don’t think of the second Christmas John has without Sherlock which is his first with Mary, or how he’s not exactly unhappy but not fully happy either. Don’t think of him still missing Sherlock so much it’s a steady background ache even as it’s far more manageable now, or of him calling Mrs. Hudson because he feels guilty but then hanging up before the call connects, or of him ignoring Greg’s texts, or of him meeting up with Harry for a Christmas lunch and smiling to pretend at happiness even while knowing she sees right through his veneer.

Don’t think of Sherlock still being in Europe but in a safe-ish place for the time being, with a semi-friend he’s managed to acquire though nothing but lies because he’s always pretending at being someone else. Don’t think of him doing nothing on Christmas other than silently sharing a pack of cigarettes with that semi-friend in a back alley, smoking and staring up at the stars. Don’t think of him hearing phantom echoes of John’s disappointed voice in his head as he feels the weird sensation of too much tobacco thrum through his system, or of him listening to the nearby carolers’ singing as the tunes are aptly distorted by the bitter wind to match his constant mood.

~

Don’t think of the Christmas after Sherlock’s return, after John and Mary’s recent engagement, after John ends up in a bonfire; don’t think of Sherlock and John having made up, but still being uncertain of how to act around one another.

Don’t think of John and Mary celebrating their first Christmas as an engaged couple at a resort, and of the trip only happening at all because Sherlock invites John and Mary to join him at the Holmes’ family estate like John did once years ago. Don’t think of John panicking and saying he and Mary are going away on holiday. Don’t think of John having to ignore the fact that he knows Sherlock knows he’s lying, and of him going home feeling sick as he springs the idea on a thrilled Mary. Don’t think of John resigning himself to planning a trip that is only going to put him farther away from Sherlock, which he both wants and doesn’t want.

Don’t think of Sherlock being secretly relieved even as he’s pained. Don’t think of Sherlock being unsure he could handle having John and Mary with their rings in his childhood home with his family, as he’s still trying to breathe through the engagement and adjust to this new life he has to live–a life with John but also without him. Don’t think of Sherlock going to the Holmes’ estate alone on Christmas Day, and of his mum reading the sadness all over him and pulling him into a hug as he just sags a bit, and of her holding him and murmuring nonsense words of love in his ear.

~

Don’t think of the Christmas after the wedding–what becomes a day of cahoots instead of family togetherness, double-crossing and lies instead of festivities, danger and death that once again tears them apart.

Don’t think of Sherlock making sure John and Mary both come to the estate, knowing it’s necessary for the plan but still hating how utterly wrong, wrong, wrong it feels to have them in the house, in this way, playing at this farce. Don’t think of his chest aching for both physical and emotional reasons.

Don’t think of John hating that he has to pretend to still love a cold-blooded assassin, on Christmas of all days. Don’t think of him hating Christmas as a holiday now on principle, hating what his life has become, hating himself for the front he has to put up for their safety, and desperately wishing that things could be different. Don’t think of John being forced to powerlessly witness Sherlock Holmes throw away his life once again–this time by taking another’s, and again all for John’s sake. Don’t think of John wanting to say no no no, not again, this isn’t worth it, don’t go where I can’t follow.

~

....

Don’t.

Don’t think of any of that.

Think, instead, of the Christmas after.

Think of the Christmas that comes, clear and bright, after everything. After Mary, after the baby that wasn’t–couldn’t have been–John’s, after Moriarty, after danger and running and hiding and planning and fighting for their lives and their love. After freedom and arrests and truth exposés and kisses and confessions and sex, and a new beautiful start to what they should’ve had all along.

Imagine that Christmas.

Imagine what it’s like.

~

Imagine Sherlock and John, still learning the edges of their new honest relationship and love, tentatively seeing December and Christmas approach on the calendar and in London’s overall air but being unsure what it means for them, considering their track record. Imagine them being uncertain as to what a joyous and wonderful Christmas could even be for them, because they’ve never had one together, so they have no idea where to begin.

Imagine Mrs. Hudson starting the process for them by pulling out the old box of decorations and leaving it in the center of 221B, marked with a note of I thought you might want to make the place a bit festive this year; imagine Sherlock and John looking from the box to each other and back again; and as John is untangling the lights and Sherlock is putting the Santa hat on Billy the skull, imagine them making the unspoken decision right then and there that Christmas this year will be as good as they can possibly make it.

Imagine them shopping for groceries and Sherlock ducking around the end of an aisle as John deliberates between two similar items. Imagine “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” suddenly coming on the radio and John’s chest tightening with irrational panic, and he can’t see Sherlock so he calls out for him in a choked voice once and then again, louder, paranoid that this is all a dream and Sherlock is still gone, gone, gone. Imagine Sherlock coming back around the corner in concern and seeing John looking like a wild and terrified thing, and Sherlock immediately enveloping him with his whole body as John shakes and breathes in the smell and the sight and the feel of him, as Sherlock mumbles I’m here, we’re fine, we’re both fine, it’s okay. Imagine John choking out something about the bloody fucking song, and Sherlock not entirely understanding what’s going on but he quietly starts humming along to it in John’s ear, the sound rumbling through his chest to where John’s face is pressed against him, until John calms down and the song goes from anxiety-inducing to simply a memory overlaid by Sherlock’s voice now. Imagine that as the song changes Sherlock quietly reminds him all over again, I will never leave you, not ever, not anymore, I’m sorry, I’m here, I’m home, we’re okay, and they breathe and cling to each other and kiss in the middle of Tesco, alarmed fellow patrons be damned.

Imagine John waking up one morning and declaring that they should make Christmas cookies, and Sherlock blearily blinking up at him with crazy bedhead, completely nonplussed. Imagine Sherlock simply saying okay so that John beams with happiness, and Sherlock kissing the smile off John’s face. Imagine them making a complete mess of the kitchen and getting flour everywhere–including their hair–as they giggle and kiss their way through the entire process. Imagine somehow the cookies do actually get made in between shenanigans, and they’re the best cookies either of them (or Mrs. Hudson) have ever tasted.

Imagine them slow-dancing in their home by the light of the fire to a classic Christmas songs playlist John made, until they get so content and sleepy that they can no longer stay upright and simply shuffle off to bed in each other’s arms.

Imagine them shopping for presents for their friends and family together, both online and in the store, and the good-natured bickering that ensues.

Imagine them leisurely walking arm in arm in the streets of London after a massive snowfall, relishing the hush that seems to have descended on the entire city.

Imagine Mrs. Hudson insisting she wants to watch It’s A Wonderful Life with them because it’s her favorite Christmas movie, and John agreeing even though he’s already seen it, and Sherlock having no desire at all to watch it but agreeing anyway just to make her happy. Imagine by the end there’s a few tears tracking down Sherlock’s cheeks because the message hits a little too close to home in a bittersweet way, so John grips his hand tightly and kisses the tears off his cheeks and Sherlock doesn’t mind a bit–mostly because Mrs. Hudson fell asleep approximately 10 minutes ago.

Imagine Sherlock and John throwing a small Christmas Eve party/dinner at 221B with Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and Greg, featuring Sherlock playing Christmas songs on the violin as the others chat casually. Imagine that, after Mrs. Hudson goes to bed, the rest of them stay up late getting tipsy on cheap wine and playing Cards Against Humanity. Imagine that when Molly’s absolutely filthy card is chosen as the winner of a round she turns red to her hairline and bursts out laughing, and Greg’s jaw drops as he says “Bloody hell, Molls,” and Sherlock raises his eyebrows and jokingly remarks, “Why, Ms. Hooper, I didn’t know you had it in you” even though that’s a lie and Molly knows it, and John giggles so hard he falls over sideways.

Imagine on Christmas Day John gifts Sherlock with tickets to The Nutcracker, remembering an offhand comment Sherlock once made about it being one of his favorites, and Sherlock is extremely touched and tells him it’s perfect. Imagine Sherlock giving John the beautiful, expensive new jumper he knew John had been eyeing for ages, and also a letter he wrote by pouring his heart onto the page, and also a gorgeous violin composition he created by pouring his heart out into the music, and they both definitely tear up by the end of the morning.

Imagine that later that day they return to the Holmes’ estate, and upon their arrival and the bustle through the door Sherlock feels something settle deep in his soul as he thinks yes, this is right, this is as it should be. Imagine his mum hugging them both at the same time and getting a tiny bit teary-eyed at how happy Sherlock is. Imagine his father snapping a polaroid photo of Sherlock and John kissing under the mistletoe with Mycroft pulling a face in the background, and John later framing it and putting it on the mantlepiece of 221B.

Imagine John placing that frame and looking at all of the cards hung all over the walls and mantle, from friends and family and clients and fans, and thinking of those cards' inscriptions of “To Sherlock & John” and “To John & Sherlock.” Imagine John thinking of the tags on the presents they gave everyone they love, and how they were signed “Love Sherlock & John” with no hesitation; and imagine he clearly thinks that this is how it should be: the two of them, their names together, a set in every way imaginable even in writing, as they are finally, completely, entirely together in all ways.

Imagine Sherlock reading those thoughts on his face and saying “I know” with a soft smile, and the flat is quiet and peaceful as snow falls outside, and they kiss and they kiss and they kiss.

~

Hm.

Imagine that, huh?

That after all the sadness, and the many, many years of incomplete or horrible Christmases… they get to finally, finally have their shared joy.

Just imagine what their first truly good, wonderfully beautiful Christmas will be together.

I think they deserve all of this and then some, don’t you?

In fact... I can’t really imagine anything less.

––––––––––––––––––

(Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, reblogs and/or kudos on AO3 would be much appreciated, but of course aren’t required. And if you want bonus taller versions of the graphic without text for lockscreens, Christmas and non-Christmas versions are here. Happy Holidays, friends!)

[mandi-celeste]

Brave New World (A Scoobynatural Fanfic)~

So, I’ve been writing this on and off since the Scoobynatural episode aired. At first, it was just for myself, just to get this scene out of my head. The past couple of days I’ve been feeling the urge to share it though, so…here it is!

I’m planning on writing more for it, but can’t say for sure when the next chapter will be uploaded. It depends on reader feedback/response I suppose (it’s not worth sidelining my main WIP for this if it’s not getting a reaction from readers, ya know?).

So, if you like this little tidbit of fic, please reblog and let me know (of course, if you’re shy it’s okay to just like the post or reblog with a reaction gif, that’s cool with me! :) ).

Enjoy!

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

Shaggy couldn’t sleep.

He stared up at the ceiling of the room he was sharing with Fred and Scooby, listening to their breathing as he tried in vain to count sheep. It was a wasted effort on his part, because he never made it past ten or eleven of the fluffy figments of his imagination. He was too distracted. Everything that had happened in the past few hours ran through his head for the hundredth time, and he shuddered. Wishing they were back home, where everything was normal and safe.

Ghosts, monsters, demons, even angels; according to Sam, Dean, and Castiel they were all real after all! And alternate realities too, as it turned out. Thanks to a freaky purple light, that had appeared out of nowhere and enveloped the gang while they were walking to the Mystery Machine to go celebrate the victory of their joint investigation with the Winchesters and Cas, he and his friends were now all trapped in one of these other realities. Unfortunately for them, it just so happened to be one where all the things that go bump in the night seemed to thrive.

It was everything he ever dreaded, and worse!

Scooby whimpered from his spot at the base of the bed, jolting Shaggy back to the present. He quickly sat up and leaned forward to pat his sleeping dog. Whispering ‘it’s okay, Scoob’ soothingly, over and over again with each gentle stroke, until his best friend stopped twitching and settled down into a more peaceful slumber. The scrawny teen stayed like that for a moment, studying the dog, and then he let his eyes wander over to Fred’s sleeping form.

He couldn’t help feeling a little envious of how his friend had just, more or less, rolled with the insanity that had been thrown at them that night. Then again, Fred was usually the first to recover from a surprise thrown their way. Velma and Daphne still seemed a little unsure of the situation when the five of them had parted ways to turn in for the night, but they did their best to not let it show much. Shaggy knew his friends well, though. By the morning, the girls would be just as calm and collected as Fred seemed to be about the whole thing.

It still rattled Shaggy though, how different everything looked in this world. How different they themselves looked. It was like walking around in a 3D movie, or a cartoon! And it wasn’t just the physical change that disturbed him, he had noticed other changes since they had arrived in this world.

His appetite wasn’t as strong here, although Velma and Sam both theorized that might just be his nerves. Velma’s eyesight seemed a little bit stronger since her arrival, which she had been surprised to discover when her glasses had gotten knocked off when they first found themselves in the bunker. And Daphne had noticed, whispering to the rest of the gang as to not offend their hosts, that their new friends looked older in this reality than they had back home.

The biggest change, though, had been in Scooby.

Shaggy had noticed something was off pretty quickly after they had arrived in this frightening new reality. When he realized what it was, it had come as a terrible shock to all of them. Scooby Doo couldn’t talk in this world.

Dean seemed almost as upset by this revelation as Shaggy had been.

Castiel had tried to fix that. After revealing to the gang that he was an angel of the lord, a fact that Shaggy was still processing even now, he had tried to restore Scooby’s ability to speak. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. The best he could do was allow the rest of them to at least feel the unique dog’s emotions, a kind of psychic connection, but as comforting as the existence of the link was…it just wasn’t the same.

“At least you can still understand us,” Shaggy thought as he ran his hand across the dog’s shoulder one more time. Then, with a tired sigh, he got up.

Even though he wasn’t actually hungry, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try to find his way back to the kitchen and help himself to a midnight snack. That always seemed to help back at home when he couldn’t sleep if he was too worked up over a case, maybe it would help now.

The bunker was still hard to navigate. Instead of locating the kitchen, he stumbled across a recreational room instead. He flicked on the lights and smiled. “Zoinks! Like, this is a pretty groovy space!”

Dean’s so-called ‘Dean Cave’ was a room that Shaggy could easily imagine himself and the rest of the gang hanging out in a lot in the coming days. He wasn’t much of a foosball player, but he knew Fred would be eager to go a few rounds with everybody. “He’ll coax Dean into playing, no doubt about it.” The jukebox in corner showed promise, and he found himself wondering what kind of music their new friends liked listening to. Would it be bands he and his friends were familiar with, or some groovy new future music?

It wasn’t until he noticed the miniature fridge plugged in by the in-progress bar that his eyes really lit up. Shaggy’s stomach grumbled at the sight of it. Maybe his appetite was coming back to him now that the shock of their trip was beginning to wear off?

With a sigh of relief, Shaggy strode over to the fridge. Walking between the foosball table and the two reclining chairs that were placed squarely in front of the TV that Dean had set up there, having replaced the one he had broken with the one that had been in his own room before calling it a night a few hours earlier.

Shaggy jumped a little in surprise when he stepped on something hard, and heard the click of the TV turning on as he lifted his foot to get a look at the object. It took him a moment to figure out what it was, he was used to the clunkier TV remotes back home, but once he did he was grinning with childlike wonder as he picked it up and flipped through the channels. There were so many stations!

If there was one perk about this creepy reality, it was that they were so much more advanced than the one he came from. “I guess it won’t be too awful, staying here for a while.” He thought to himself as settled on a random station, not paying much mind to what was playing as he turned his attention back to the fridge.

“Like, Scooby and I can stay here and investigate the kitchen!”

Shaggy’s eyes widened with surprise at the sound of his own voice, and he glanced at the TV again. Stunned by what he was seeing, he let the fridge door close on its own and wandered over to stand behind the reclining chairs. He rubbed at his eyes, and blinked with astonishment as he watched the rest of the scene on the small screen continue to unfold. He was on the TV! So was Scooby and the rest of the gang, looking like their normal selves!

“Wha-what’s going on…” Shaggy murmured, feeling the all-too familiar sensation of the hair on the back of his neck standing up and goosebumps rising across his arms.

He remembered the case he was watching.

Was there some kind of TV crew secretly taping them the whole time? But, no. That didn’t make any sense. Way too many cameras would have needed to be used in order to pull off what he was seeing. Plus, he remembered how cramped and creaky that particular house had been; even if both he and Scooby had been oblivious to a camera crew, he was certain the others would have noticed a bunch of men hiding in the house filming them eventually.

Not to mention the fact that this case was close to a year ago now, and no one ever approached them about it.

He was starting to wonder, as he rubbed his eyes again, if he was dreaming after all. But he knew he wasn’t, and as the program ended he felt a sense of unease begin to prickle at him.

“You’re watching The Classic Cartoon Hub!” Said a narrator as the lineup for the next two hours displayed on the screen. “Up next is another episode of Scooby Doo!”

Suddenly feeling weak in the knees, Shaggy gripped the top of the closest recliner. Stumbling his way around it, he slowly sank into its plush cushion and stared on in shock as the screen went black for a moment before the sound of squeaking bats rang in his ears and the opening theme began to play.

“This can’t be real…it has to be some kind of crazy joke!”

He spent the first ten minutes of the program repeating that thought in his head. The case being shown in this episode was a much more recent one, the gang had solved it just last week, and he found himself quoting word for word the conversations he remembered most clearly from that night. By the time the program went to a commercial break, he was too dazed to really pay attention to it anymore. An ad that played a few commercials in advertised a Scooby Doo marathon for the best episodes and movies from 1969 to the present day, and Shaggy felt the dread he was feeling sink its claws in deeper.

“We’re not real…I’m not real…”

Shaggy never did fall asleep that night.

[bevioletskies]

20 questions [16/20]

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

fandom: avengers academy/marvel cinematic universe

summary: wasp has a new competition in store for the students of avengers academy, and there’s money involved. so obviously, peter and gamora have to pretend to be a couple in order to win. wait, what?

chapter preview: the school festival commences, yondu gets some horrifying news, and peter and gamora discuss what love means to them.

word count: 5889 | total word count: 118k

a/n: chapters 15 through 17, also known as the chapters where peter and gamora watch the entire original star wars trilogy. yay?

ao3 | previously | next | masterpost

Unfortunately for Gamora, ever since she and Peter had passed Natasha’s little test, it seemed as if her social calendar was filling up rather unexpectedly, the floodgates having been opened for Janet to bombard her with pre-prom all-girl events, including sleepovers, salon trips, nail appointments, and...dancing lessons.

“I have danced plenty with Quill,” Gamora had said hastily upon seeing Janet’s digital event spreadsheet (it was colour-coded). “Thank you, Janet, but I’ll pass.”

She had also somehow gotten roped into being on the set-up committee for the fundraiser festival. So, on Thursday evening, she found herself hanging up decorations, while secretly wishing she was back on the Milano, watching The Empire Strikes Back with Peter (“Gamora, this movie is perfection”).

“I heard you guys got your outfits all sorted,” Janet said cheerily. The two of them were stringing up white holiday lights around the quad, while the other volunteers were making signs, setting out tables, and checking the electrical wiring. “Have you decided on your hair and makeup yet?”

“Not quite, but I figured I could consult you for that,” Gamora replied. Janet beamed - clearly, it had been the right response. “I also have a little surprise in my outfit, for Quill.”

“Well doesn’t that sound sexy?” Elektra purred from nearby, where she was painting the banner for the kissing booth. “I have a thigh-high slit in my dress. Matthew always did like my legs the best. What’s your surprise?”

“Nothing like that,” Gamora said, annoyed. “It’s my shoes, actually.” She found the picture of said shoes on her phone and held it out for the other girls to gather around and see. Janet let out a squeal of excitement.

“Oh, he’ll love that,” she sighed. “It’s very sweet of you.” She turned back to the task at hand. “And your six-month anniversary is this week, isn’t it? You have anything fun planned?”

Gamora froze, her hands still in mid-air in an attempt to detangle a section of lights. How could she have forgotten? The two of them had buckled down on their relationship “timeline” recently, mapping out the trajectory of their breakup in the way they planned for missions. In her defense, it wasn’t like she had a colour-coded digital spreadsheet. Hell, the Guardians’ only semblance of organization was a shwarma receipt taped to their fridge door, with their grocery list written on the back of it. Instead of check marks, it had tallies - they couldn’t be bothered to make a new list every time.

“Quill has a surprise for me,” she lied smoothly, recovering. “I have no idea what it could be or when it’s happening, but I trust him.”

“I’m sure it’ll be romantic as always. Your trip to New York was super cute,” Janet gushed, wrapping up the last of the lights. “Nat told me Peter was constantly cheering you on during training. I think it’s sweet how much he adores your badass-ness. I mean, who wants to be with someone who can’t appreciate a girl for everything she is, right?”

“Hear, hear!” Elektra called, raising her paintbrush in victory.

Gamora, feeling particularly bold, decided to embellish a little more. Partially because talking about Peter had become second nature as of late, but also because Elektra was starting to irritate her. “Quill walked into a door when first saw me during a combat exam. He told me it was because he’d been amazed by what he saw, that he’d never seen a girl like me before. It’s...kind of sweet.”

“Kind of? That’s the cutest thing I’ve heard all week, and I heard Lucky sneeze this morning.” Janet stared at Gamora, scarily serious. “Do you know how cute dog sneezes are? It seems pretty clear to me that you and Peter were made for each other.”

Gamora turned away, fussing at another knot that didn’t exist, hoping the others couldn’t see the mixed emotions written across her face. Made for each other, she scoffed to herself. She had told herself, time and time again, that her chance at a normal life had ended the moment Thanos had first stepped onto her homeworld, ceased to exist when he’d grabbed her by the ankles and hauled her away from her parents’ bodies. The very notion of love - any sort of love, be it familial, platonic, or romantic - was laughable for a girl like her, a child raised as a weapon. And yet, here she was, at this academy that she never thought would exist in her lifetime, meant to house all sorts of heroes, anti-heroes, anti-villains, and reformed villains alike, living their lives of various degrees of heroism, sprinkled with “normalcy”, whatever that meant. So yes, maybe romantic relationships were in the cards after all, but she was still so unsure of whether it could ever happen with Peter.

She had fantasized about it, of course, the different scenarios that could come about. Combat practice that ended with her pinning him to the ground (as always), leaning in to peck him on the cheek for his troubles. Him attempting to pass her notes in class - he already did that every now and then, asking for help with a certain question, or to meet with him after school, but she could imagine him to be the type to write song lyrics that made him think of her. A post-mission adrenaline rush, resulting in frenzied kisses against his bedroom door before it became too much and not enough, her practically throwing him down on the bed, straddling him in an instant, wondering why Peter’s belt was too complex to remove within seconds. That last one had featured in Gamora’s mind more than once, that was for sure.

Aside from what she was sure to be just her own imagination running wild, what Gamora couldn’t picture was how they would deal with the more unsavory parts of herself, the thoughts that lingered on what she had done and the people she had done it to. Her first kill at the age of nine. Her first massacre at the age of twelve. Inflicting physical torture by thirteen, and psychological warfare by the time she was fifteen. Gamora was getting better at tackling them all on her own, of course. She wasn’t quite as “gloom and doom” as Nebula, she didn’t think about the inevitability of death the way that poor Bucky Barnes did, but sometimes there would be a twitch in her muscles, or a glimpse of a face in the crowd, that would take her back to “before”. Sharing a bed with Peter had helped combat the nightmares, but it was when she was awake that her brain decided to take her psyche and play. She wasn’t about to tell him any of that, knowing it would result in him hovering, prodding, and fussing like he always did. She didn’t need him to take care of her, and he knew that, but he would try anyway.

Gamora didn’t return to the Milano until late into the night, wondering if any of the Guardians were even there. It was always a toss-up between them sleeping on the ship or back at the dorms, though Rocket was usually the most consistent presence on the Milano, since his own night terrors led to him tinkering away at 3 AM. It was something they never talked about whenever they caught each other wandering around, bleary-eyed and trembling, too numb to speak. “Hello?” Gamora called out as she entered the common area.

Peter was sitting on the couch in the dark, the tablet in his hand being the only source of light. It left a soft glow around his face, highlighting the darkness of the bags under his eyes, the visible clench in his jaw. He looked oddly serious until he seemed to have registered the sound of her voice, his head snapping back up. His grim expression was instantly replaced with his signature grin. “Gamora, hey. Wasn’t expecting you back.” He quickly closed what it was he’d been looking at, though she could have sworn she saw a picture of her face on the screen.

“Thought I’d take my chances, see if you were here instead of the dorms. You’ve been spending a lot of time on the Milano lately, more than usual,” she commented. She considered sitting right next to him, but it felt too intimate when no one else was around to fill the space. She settled for the armchair instead. “Any reason?”

He patted the armrest he was draped over. “Milano’s my girl. She was out of commission for so long, I guess I wanted to keep her company, like she’s a sick pet or something. Is that weird? Yeah, that’s kinda weird.”

Gamora shrugged. “Not that weird. Your attachment to the Milano is to be expected, considering all you’ve been through with...her,” she acquiesced. “What were you looking at?”

Peter glanced back at the tablet in his hands, as if he had forgotten it was there. “Going through our Google Alerts, actually. Pepper set it up for me so I could keep track of our press. Lots of stuff about you and me, especially with that video of Groot.”

“You still feel guilty,” she guessed, eyeing the near-permanent crease between his eyebrows. “Quill, it’s okay.”

“It’s not that, not anymore,” he sighed, leaning back. “It’s more like, there’s a lot more people invested in our ‘relationship’ than I thought, and not just our classmates. When we started this whole thing, I thought it’d just be Janet and Kamala, because they love that kind of stuff. But there’s drawings of us. There’s couples recreating the kissing selfie from Central Park. I asked Cap about this yesterday, and he said he gets the same thing with him and Carter, that it’s all part of the job, but it’s still freaking me out. He told me not to look into something called...fan...fiction?”

Gamora wasn’t sure what he was talking about either, but moved to sit next to him and clasp his hands in between hers. “And it will pass once word of our breakup spreads. We’ve seen what the media is like in this world - fast, fleeting. We will be yesterday’s news before tomorrow’s headlines are even written.”

Peter looked down at their entangled fingers, squeezing. “Profound. I like it.” she pulled away after a moment of comfortable silence, shooting him that warm, almost flirtatious smile once again. He never really knew what to expect whenever she looked at him like that, or how he was supposed to interpret it. He chose to pretend Gamora really was flirting with him, that she was inviting him to flirt back. “What?”

“Janet reminded me that our six-month anniversary is this week,” Gamora replied. “I told her you had a surprise for me.” She stood, moving towards the hall. “Anyways, I’m going to bed now.” He was disappointed to see her hand coming to rest on the handle of her own bedroom door.

“Wait, what are we doing for our six-month anniversary?” he called. His stomach turned slightly at how legitimate it felt as he said it, like they had been actually dating for six months instead of faking it for three.

“Like I said. Surprise me.” She grinned before disappearing into her room, leaving Peter feeling slightly disgruntled, but mostly stunned. Well, damn.

______

The entire Academy seemed to have woken up earlier than usual on Friday morning, eager for a school-wide event that, for once, wasn’t some sort of invasion or fight. Not to mention the fact it also got them out of attending class - Janet van Dyne, everyone’s friend, the perfect event planner, and secret genius.

As it turned out, Peter and Gamora were the only ones on the Milano that night, which made him somewhat curious as to why she had slept in her own room instead. She only seemed to do it whenever the others pointed it out and embarrassed her, but with them being alone...Peter shivered a little. Okay, maybe she had a point. There was no telling how stupidly brave he would try to be if there was no one else around to mock him for trying.

Regardless, they had a relatively peaceful breakfast together, chatting quietly about their respective festival gigs, enjoying the lack of interruptions or teasing from the others. It felt like all the clichés in the world coming together for Peter when he admired the way the early morning light illuminated Gamora’s face, the red undertones of her dark hair more prominent than usual. And if Gamora was eyeing the scruffy bedhead that Peter was sporting, wondering if he would object to her running her fingers through it, he didn’t need to know.

“By the way, a group of us are playing a surprise show at the end. Don’t tell anyone,” she said, setting her spoon down into her empty cereal bowl. “Me, Drax, Adam, Barnes, and Gwen.”

“That sounds amazing,” Peter replied through a mouthful of Cheerios. “In the quad?”

“Mhm,” she hummed. “Janet’s got a couple cameras set up so she can film the show and put it online. Said it would be good for boosting the public’s perception of us, though she claims all the photos of our dates and the selfies that I’ve sent her are doing a fine job already.” She twirled the spoon around absent-mindedly. “I looked at some of the articles you talked about last night after I went to bed, and it’s even more than I realized. It’s honestly overwhelming how invested people are.”

“We’re a good-looking pair of badasses from space,” he shrugged. “In hindsight, not that surprising.”

“And so humble,” Gamora teased. “I suppose it sells better papers than Matt and Elektra. A law student and a socialite’s daughter is hardly worth anything beyond the society pages.”

After breakfast, they dressed and made their way to the quad, where it seemed as if every single student was currently bustling about, whether to help with last-minute setup, or to wait in nervous anticipation. Some students, like Nebula, had opted not to participate or volunteer, whether they were too busy, too lazy, or couldn’t be bothered (...like Nebula).

“Over here, Gamora!” Janet called cheerfully, gesturing for her to join Elektra and Colleen at their station.

“See you later,” Peter said, leaning in to kiss her without a spare thought. He was slightly alarmed to find Gamora also tipping her chin up in response to meet him halfway, an automatic movement on both their parts. Janet cooed in the background as their lips met briefly, before Gamora pulled away, biting her bottom lip in the way that made every thought evaporate out of Peter’s mind. He watched her leave, wondering when the careful calculation of every hand-hold, every kiss, had turned into second nature.

The fundraiser started off with a bang - literally, as Tony, Rhodey, and Pepper flew over the crowd, providing a light show with the use of their modified reactor beams - and the energy remained high throughout the day. Despite not being particularly close with Colleen or a big fan of Elektra, Gamora still found herself having fun with the other girls. Elektra especially was more endearing to her, once she stopped bragging about her and Matt’s exploits of both the hero and the sexual kind.

“I’m glad to see girls like us, with such terrible pasts, can be redeemed,” Elektra said privately to her during one of their water breaks. “But we must remember to never compromise on how powerful we truly are.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” Gamora commented thoughtfully. “We still deserve a place to go home to, with people who love us, so we can love them and provide for them in return.”

“Which is why I hope Romanoff can see beyond her own past as well.” Elektra nodded at Natasha, who was standing across the quad, chatting with Clint. He was leaning against a tree, nonchalantly blowing bubblegum as he always was. They couldn’t hear the conversation, but he was apparently doing a good job of making her laugh. “She’s had her relationships with different kinds of boys on this campus, including a bit of a tussle with Matthew that I don’t appreciate, but there’s something about that weird one that has her captivated, even though they already didn’t work out. I confess I don’t understand.”

“He’s her best friend,” Gamora said quietly. “She probably trusts him with her mind and her heart more than anyone else. They’re both strong, in different ways, but they’re stronger together. He played an important role in her redemption, so her attachment was there from the start. She doesn’t want to know what life is like without him in it, and he came into his own full potential partially because of her guidance. It makes perfect sense.”

Elektra raised an eyebrow. “Honey, are you talking about them, or you and Peter?”

Gamora was unsure of how to answer, so her only response was to take another long drink from her water bottle. She found herself desperately wishing it was alcohol at this point.

Peter, meanwhile, was having a blast with Agent Coulson, whose fanboyish enthusiasm for all the various weapons that both Stark and Rocket had donated for their presentation couldn’t be contained. “You might be the only person who calls me Star-Lord consistently,” Peter told him.

“It’s a cool name,” Coulson replied with a shrug and an easygoing grin. “I wish I had an outlaw name.”

“Your name’s already pretty badass,” Peter said, smiling back. “Thor and his crew call you ‘Son of Coul’, like all the time. That’s already pretty cool.”

Coulson’s eyes widened. “Really? You think so?”

Peter patted him on the back. “Hell, yeah, dude!”

The other Guardians were enjoying themselves at their stations as well, with the exception of Nebula, who opted to walk around by herself and occasionally stop by Gamora’s spot to see if she was going to screw up (she hadn’t, of course). Rocket was giving engineering lessons to students wanting to get better at technology, Drax was challenging people to wrestle (though he drew the line at Hulk - he wasn’t stupid), and Yondu was putting on a “magic show” in which he drew caricatures of people using the yaka arrow. Mantis was using her empathic abilities to predict people’s futures with varying success, and yes, Groot was at the kissing booth, receiving cheek kisses and “ooh”s and “ahh”s of admiration from the majority of the student body.

Peter’s grin was so wide, he was sure he looked maniacal, but he couldn’t find himself to care. It was moments like this that left him in awe of the people had chosen to spend his life alongside - not just the Guardians, but everyone else who made being a hero so much fun. He could have never imagined a life like this after being abducted as a child, raised to be nothing more than a thief, and yet, here he was, living a life that was just so... good. Peter could imagine that Gamora and many others had felt the same way at one point in time or another, having lived in unspeakably abusive conditions with abhorrent people. He also hoped that they felt the same way he did about what this school was doing for them, what it meant to them.

He was broken out of his reverie when Gamora walked past him, and more surprisingly, with Nebula and Yondu in tow, Director Fury a few paces ahead of them. “Gamora? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, though she looked distressed, lying through her teeth. At his knowing glance, she relented with a sigh. “I’ll tell you later if I can, okay?”

Once again, Peter found himself watching her walk away, though now his mind was racing with the possibilities of what a meeting with Fury could possibly mean for his friends. It was like he had jinxed himself, thinking about how good everything was going. Clearly, someone was about to deal them a hand that they weren’t ready to take.

______

“What’s all this fuss about, Director?” Yondu said, as nonchalant as could be. He and Nebula seemed to be having a contest on who could sit in their chair more obnoxiously, while Gamora opted to stand a little off to the side, arms folded across her chest. Fury let out a long sigh, though it seemed more world-weary than people-weary (and there was a difference), settling down on the other side of his desk into his leather office chair.

“It’s distressing news for the three of you. Disturbing, even,” he said, his voice somber. “I’d advise you against telling the others, but I have a feeling you’re probably going to tell Quill anyways. But don’t tell the kid, alright? Groot doesn’t need this kind of stress at his age.”

“What is it?” Gamora asked. Nebula sat up a little straighter, hands coming to rest on her lap. Yondu followed suit, the jovial humour in his eyes evaporating near instantly.

"Seems Thanos wanted to send a message.” Fury leaned forward to rest his elbows on his desk, steely-eyed gaze fixed on Yondu. “Got one of them Black Order people - and I don’t know which - after your Ravagers.”

Yondu shot out of his chair in alarm, fists clenched. Gamora took a cautious step forward in case he was about to deck Fury. “You better be lyin’ to me, Director,” he hissed.

“I wish I was.” He was doing his best to sound authoritative, though there was an underlying tone of sympathy that told them how serious it had been. “Forty-five of your men killed, somewhere out in space. I got in touch with the authorities, see if I could find out more, but there’s not much I can do at the moment but wait for their reply.”

Gamora and Nebula exchanged looks over Yondu’s head as he sat back down, stunned. “My boys,” he whispered. He sounded as if he were a million miles away, or more accurately, wanted to be millions of miles away, with his crew. “This is all on me, ain’t it. Tryna be a Guardian, and I get ‘em killed.”

"This is our fault, Yondu, I’m...I’m so sorry.” Gamora reached to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Thanos wants to hurt Nebula and I by hurting you.”

“You two don’t care about me!” Yondu snapped, slapping her hand away and turning to shoot her an ice-cold glare. “You only pretend to ‘cause Quill keeps me around.”

“We do care,” Gamora protested, frowning. “Do you know how often I meet with Director Fury, trying to convince him that you and Nebula have done something, anything that could possibly get you both to finally come on missions with us? You’re part of this family, Yondu, with or without Quill. Do not insult me by denying that very notion.”

He glowered for another moment before slumping over, sighing. He turned to look back at Fury. “At least tell me Kraglin’s okay. That boy doesn’t deserve to be done in, just ‘cause I’m here.”

“He’s the one who contacted the authorities about the hit,” Fury nodded, relieved that the worst of Yondu’s anger seemed to have passed. “I’m sorry to tell you all this, but I figured this secret wasn’t mine to keep. Now, Thanos himself wasn’t seen or heard from at the scene of the crime, so it could just be him sending a message instead of doing the deed himself. Either way, we’re on high alert. I’m not about to get his hands on any of you kids. Especially not you two.” He wagged his finger at Gamora and Nebula. “You’ve had enough to deal with, living your whole damn childhood out with him. He’s not gonna get a hair on anyone’s head if I have anything to say about it, and I’m sure you feel the same.”

Nebula, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke. “I don’t have any hair on my head, Director. Same as you. But I suppose I can appreciate the sentiment.” She cast a glance over at Yondu, who was staring off into the corner of the room, gritting his teeth as if he were in pain. “Thank you for telling us.”

Fury couldn’t even hide his surprise, staring at her in utter confusion. “Alright, I’m kind of weirded out now. You kids go back to the festivities, and don’t let this spoil the rest of your day.”

______

It felt like coming home when Gamora picked up her guitar again, especially after the heaviness of Fury’s reveal. She played like her heart and soul depended on it, soaking in the enthusiastic (and a little off-key) sounds of her classmates singing along to words she had penned herself, every cheer and every clap driving her to push herself harder. What hit her most, however, was the unabashedly wide grins looking back at her. Despite the hardships that everyone had gone through to get here, they all looked so innocent in that moment, so unaffected by the looming horror that could approach them at any time.

The show ended soon after sunset, though the majority of the student population lingered in the quad, cleaning up and chattering excitedly about their favourite parts of the festival. Janet was flitting about as always, taking selfies with everyone and congratulating them on their various successes. Gamora, meanwhile, was dismantling her set-up when she heard footsteps behind her. I must really have it bad if I can tell who it is without looking, she thought, sighing.

“Hey, Quill. You enjoy the show?”

“You were awesome, as always,” Peter grinned, kneeling next to her so he could help with the complex wiring. “I love seeing you play. And it’s been a really long time, too.”

“Too long,” she agreed. “How about your demonstration? How’d that go?”

“Coulson nearly got me with the Destroyer once, but all he did was burn my hair a little.” He ran his fingers through his hair to show her a slightly singed chunk near his left ear. “No big deal, though.”

Finally giving in to the urge, Gamora reached over to ruffle it slightly until the burnt pieces were tucked out of sight. “I can help you trim that later, if you’d like,” she said softly.

“Sure,” Peter replied. “Hey, I was also thinking of watching Empire Strikes Back tonight, if you’re not too tired. We could head to the dorms instead? We helped raise a crap ton of money, we deserve to wake up without back pain.”

Gamora chuckled. It would be the perfect thing to keep her from letting the peril of Fury’s news plague her every thought. “I’m awake enough. As long as you help me pack up the rest of my equipment.”

He held out his hand almost immediately, pinky out for hers to loop with. “Deal.” She hooked their fingers together, eyes twinkling with mirth. Of all the things Peter had taught her about Earth, admittedly, she found this one to be one of the sweetest. A simple gesture he associated with his mom, now another thing that he shared with her.

______

Once again, Peter found himself distracted by the sight of Gamora lying by his side, cocooned in his sheets, watching the screen with the level of focus she usually reserved for combat. It was easy to tell by the concentration in her eyes that Gamora’s silence wasn’t out of boredom, but of engagement. Peter wondered if all the movies he’d been showing her before - romantic dramas and comedies, for the most part - were not for her. Instead, it was the adventures, the engaging characters, the world-building - that was the kind of stuff she seemed to love. The idealistic versions of their own world, things that reminded her of the happiest parts of their lives.

“You’re really loving this,” Peter commented as Yoda began training Luke. “I should’ve stuck to this stuff instead of the rom-coms. It’s more your style.”

“It’s not that I disliked the other movies,” Gamora said somewhat defensively. “It’s just...I’ve never really experienced romance, or romantic love. It’s hard to relate to something that I’ve never had.”

Upon hearing her confession, he began to wonder what she considered to be romantic. Her words implied that she based her understanding of romantic love off of what the movies showed her - Westley’s devotion to doing as Buttercup asked in The Princess Bride, Phil wanting to learn everything he could about Rita in Groundhog Day. Maybe he was wrong (and Peter found himself to be wrong more often than he’d like to), but it felt as if he were basically already doing those things.

When Peter had first met her, he would’ve joked that her idea of love was knives instead of flowers, and desired combat training in lieu of actual dates, but he knew her better now. He had seen her warm-hearted nature in equal parts to her fierce demeanor. She liked history, as evidenced by how immersed she had been on their “date” at The Met. She enjoyed nihilistic literature, and even though Peter didn’t understand it himself, he wanted to sneak a peek through her bookshelf and figure out what she already owned, so he could buy her more books that would make her happy. He wanted to sit by her side while she wrote songs, be her soundboard for lyrics that she couldn’t quite work out on her own. He wanted to hunt down every movie that he could hope to find that she would enjoy, so he could share as many evenings with her as possible, watching her expressions as she experienced them for the first time. And, in time, Peter wanted to help her on her journey that she never spoke about - rediscovering her home, her culture, her parents, in whatever way she could. There had to be something there, records, photos, videos, anything, that would make her feel like part of a whole again. Hell, he was incredibly gone for this girl.

Then, he got an idea.

“Question,” he said slowly after the movie was over. Gamora had ranted for a good ten minutes about the Darth Vader reveal, her face starting to redden as a result of it. She perked up a little, immediately recognizing the cue that had come to signal their incredibly long-standing game. “What’s romantic to you? Forget everything you saw in the movies, or out there with our classmates, or whatever else you’ve seen. What do you find romantic?”

She turned over onto her back, hands moving to absent-mindedly adjust her pillow as she contemplated the question. “I don’t need anything special,” she finally said. “Big gestures don’t impress me. That’s a sign of showmanship, not love.”

“Then what would be a sign of love to you?” Gamora tensed at this, wondering why Peter was looking so deeply into this particular topic. She could only hope that it was a precursor to something she’d been wanting, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up. This was all just conversation, wasn’t it?

“It’s the small things.” Another memory of her parents appeared to her like an old home movie playing in her brain as she considered the displays of affection she’d witnessed in her life. Her mother, who was terrible at cooking, attempting to make her father his favourite meal. She had burnt it terribly, and Gamora herself had complained at the time, but her father had eaten it regardless with a wide smile on his face. Or her father, who wasn’t the most creative of minds, but had some of the steadiest hands, stretching new canvases so her mother could paint beautiful landscapes. “Like remembering my favourite food, or finding some odd knick-knack that reminds them of me.” Her eyes flickered over to where her utility belt was, laid across Peter’s desk chair, where the multi-tool was tucked away. She had found it to be mostly useless, and tricky to handle correctly without having to take pause in what she was doing, something she couldn’t afford to do in combat. However, it had become one of her most prized possessions, not that she would ever tell anyone that.

“So you’d object if they brought you flowers?” Peter pressed on, determined.

“It’s not like I’d throw them out,” she protested. “It just wouldn’t interest me as much. It doesn’t feel personal.” He nodded, thinking it over. Maybe this whole “giant-crush-on-his-best-friend-slash-fake-girlfriend” thing wasn’t going to leave him with a broken heart after all. There would be time, what with everything he had learned about her these past few months. “Question for you, then. If you had to choose between sex and love, what would it be?”

He laughed, startled. He had never known Gamora to think too much about sex, and he certainly didn’t blame her, considering the horrors she’d experienced as a child, with adults commenting on her attractiveness like it was normal. “They’re not always mutually exclusive, you know. I mean, some people don’t want to have sex at all, and some people don’t want to be in relationships at all, but I’ve never personally felt that way myself.”

“Let me rephrase,” she interrupted, her hand pressed firmly against his chest as if to stop another Peter Quill ramble. “What do you value more, sex or love?”

“Love,” he replied easily. As he expected, she looked rather surprised at his answer. “Sex is great - at least, in my opinion - but I think love is always more fulfilling. Love’s what drove me and my mom to take care of each other, for her to share all the pop culture she grew up on, and for me to enjoy every second of it. Love is what got me and Yondu to bond instead of fight, the way the Ravagers were hoping we’d do. Love is why I fight so hard to keep you guys alive, and safe, and happy. It’s what keeps me going every day, to get up in the morning and be like, hell yeah, I wanna kick ass with the people that are important to me so that other people can live their lives without fear. Y’know? And love doesn’t have to be romantic.”

Gamora bit her tongue before she could ask him to elaborate on the kind of love he felt for her. She was too afraid to know the answer, to hear what she was sure was true. “That’s quite selfless of you. I’m impressed.”

“You wound me every time you doubt me, Gamora,” he said seriously, though his stern face was ruined by a cheesy grin. His expression softened as the moonlight began to creep through his blinds, reflecting the silver on her face, illuminating her impossibly long lashes and the light in her large brown eyes. It was a face he’d been waking up next to so often as of late, a face he wanted to wake up to every day. But the spell could be broken at any time, couldn’t it? Not unless he did something, soon. “What’re you doing tomorrow night?” Peter whispered.

“Nothing, really. Why?”

“It’s our six-month anniversary, of course. I think I know what my surprise for you is gonna be. And it’ll be awesome.”

a/n: i'm still banging their heads together, trust me. but oh boy, next chapter will lead to some epiphanies i'm sure you guys will want to see ;)

[wordsformendes]

Screaming at the Moon

Requested: “shawn and you always hated each other because secretly you were in love but weren’t brave enough to do smth. Your families are close so a day you went on a trip together and you fight but end up having passionate, rough, hard, deep, craving type of sex❤”

A/N: I do not write smut, and I try not to write things too suggestive because I’m just personally not comfortable writing that type of thing, so I apologize. I also apologize for the weird ending lol. I didn't exactly know how to end it. Let me know if you want a part 2 or something!

“I can’t stand him! I don’t want to do this.” You complained to your best friend about Shawn Mendes. The teen pop sensation who you’ve known your whole life. You knew him before Vine and you knew him after. Your families were close friends and you two were forced to hang out a lot. Unfortunately, those times didn’t always end well for you. There was constant teasing and sarcasm between you and Shawn and you had friends that told you it was because he liked you, but you didn’t believe that for a second.

“He’s arrogant, and rude. And whenever he wears shorts, they’re way too short!“ You went on and on about everything you disliked about Shawn to your best friend.

“Y/N, you better stop talking, or else you’ll marry him or something.” Your best friend stopped you.

“No way, you’re crazy. That’s insane. I wouldn’t even go on a date with him!” Your eyes widened at your best friends words and you just shook your head. She shrugged and laughed along, grabbing clothes out of your dresser to help you pack. Your job had unexpectedly taken a sharp turn around the corner, causing you to travel often. This week, you were heading to Toronto, where of course, Shawn coincidentally was going to be playing a show that weekend. Your parents were close with Shawn’s parents, and so your family had decided on dragging themselves and your siblings all the way to Toronto to see Shawn perform. Your little sister loved Shawn, and so this whole plan seemed to work for everyone but you. You were an adult, and you made your own decisions. You went wherever you wanted whenever you wanted. You thought you’d be safe from going to Toronto with your family but of course, your job had other plans for you.

“I don’t believe in coincidences!” You remember your mother telling you over the phone, the night you found out your boss wanted you in Toronto. You complained for twenty minutes about how insane you thought it was that out of all places for your boss could send you, she wanted you exactly where Shawn was. Well…Not exactly. But you weren’t going to not visit your family. You just accepted the fact that you’d have to deal with Shawn. You liked the rest of his family and you were looking forward to seeing your own family. And so you forced a smile, and hauled yourself and your luggage out to Toronto, praying that you wouldn’t have to interact with Shawn too much.

——

The moonlight outside the window of your hotel room, blinded you even through the curtains. You had one small lamp on, but it seemed like you didn’t even need it. You sat on a comfy chair in front of a small desk working from your laptop, your eyes struggling to stay open. You were glad that your job was able to let you work from a laptop every once in a while, so you hoped you could get some things done tonight. Your family was out and about probably spending more time with Shawn’s family than they did with you. You visited them earlier, and you even said hi to Shawn, but you weren’t going to stay for his show, and you had work to do anyway. So here you were, 11pm at night, letting the cool air from outside come in through your window, hoping it would keep you awake. Your attention was drawn away from your laptop when you heard your phone go off. It was a text from your mom.

“Just finished dinner with the Mendes family. Shawn is on his way to see you. We all tried to stop him but he says he wants to catch up with you, and he didn’t believe us when we said you were busy with work. Be careful, and be nice!!”

What the hell? Your mind was in several different states of confusion as you read this text. You appreciated that your mom had texted you though, you loved that your relationship with your mother was good. She was like a 52 year old best friend, who knew more than your other best friends. You still couldn’t believe that Shawn was attempting to “visit you.” You were glad your mom warned you, but the more you thought about it, she probably was super nice to him about it happening. How else would Shawn know your room number? He wouldn’t, unless your parents told him. Your mom knew how much you disliked Shawn, but she also always wanted you to make peace with him. So even though she didn’t actually say it in her text, she probably was totally okay with Shawn coming to see you, and you bet she didn’t even actually try to stop him. Making peace with Shawn, or agreeing to disagree, or just being nice to him was always hard for you so you never did it. But right now, it seemed like maybe it was finally time to do that. The last time you actually had a conversation with Shawn was several years ago, and it didn’t end well. You wanted to believe that now you were both grown, and had forgotten about that time, but you could never forget it. That’s why you never spoke to him again, until now, when you heard a knock on your door.

You sighed heavily, and got up to open the door. You really didn’t want to. But there he was, his eyes looked as tired as yours, and his black zip up hoodie was hung over a grey t-shirt. His hair was scraggly, but it looked cute. Shawn was cute, always had been but what mattered most was how not cute his personality was.

“Y/N, hi.” He smiled weakly and put his hands together. You smiled back and let him in, turning on more lights in the room. You probably looked like a crazy person, sitting in the almost all dark, with your laptop open on that little table desk thing in the corner, and the mess you made earlier from room service.

“My mom texted me to let me know you were coming but.. What are you doing here?” You said as nicely as possible.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for not telling you myself. I just noticed you weren’t at dinner earlier and I wanted to catch up. How are you?” You stared at him with a confused look, and you were angry now. Not because of his odd gesture at catching up, but because he was acting like nothing bad ever happened between the two of you. And so you let him know, by speaking your mind.

“Are you serious? We hate each other, do we not? What makes you think you can just come see me and act like it’s okay?” You said with a harsh tone. You were done with those two seconds of trying to be nice.

“I figured you’d say that.” Shawn just laughed and looked at you like it was all a joke.

“Get out.” You said and walked over to the door to open it. He didn’t even have to say much to get you raging with anger.

“So you’re still the same bitch I knew a few years ago? You really haven’t changed?” Shawn spit out the words like it was nothing, and you stood there staring him down, ready to beat him up.

“Excuse me? You’re saying I’m the one who hasn’t changed? Meanwhile you have the nerve to come see me and say you wanna catch up when in reality you just wanna irritate me. You’ve always done that. You’ve always bothered me even after I’ve asked you not to several times. Who do you think you are?” You were walking away from the door now, and you getting closer to him. You were ready to yell and you thought that maybe if you got up in his face with your anger, it would scare him. That’s what happened last time anyway.

“I think I deserve an explanation as to why you hate me so much, and why you’re always so rude.” Shawn was backing away from you, and you could see he was nervous, but you weren’t sure why. His face got red whenever he was nervous, and he would look down at the ground like you didn’t exist. This is exactly what happened the last time you tried to have a conversation with him.

“I am never rude to you! And if I am, it’s only because you are to me first! I don’t take crap from people Shawn.” You we’re raising your voice now, and this was the beginning of another emotional war. Shawn was excellent at making you feel emotionally drained. You were both yelling now, and there was nothing in the way to stop the words that spilled from both of your mouths. It was all hatred.

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE? HOW COME YOU STILL HAVE TO BOTHER ME EVEN AFTER I TELL YOU NOT TO?“ You yelled at him as you walked closer, so close. So close now, that your noses were almost touching. There was a glass wall between the both of you, keeping you from any physical touch, but your emotions were running wild, and you hoped that getting this close to him would scare him away already.

“Don’t you think there’s a reason to that Y/N?” Shawn didn’t back away this time as he spoke. This time, his hand was on your neck, and you shivered at his touch.

"Don’t you think there’s a reason as to why I’m even here right now?” You wanted to back away from his touch, and you were surprised he had the courage to even come close to you. But you couldn't move.

"And what's that reason?" You let out weakly wiping your palms against your shorts. He didn't say anything back, because instead he moved his mouth down to your neck. His lips burned onto your skin and you wanted to scream. You wanted to scream at the moon you stared at outside your window as Shawn's hands traveled up your waist and his lips continued to work on your neck. The hatred and anger you felt towards Shawn was suddenly turned into lust and you were disgusted with yourself, and him. But it didn't matter at this point anymore and you didn't care. So you finally moved your body and place your hands on Shawn's head, running your fingers through his hair. His mouth was slowly inching up your neck and he was now on your jawline, your cheek, your lips. Soon enough he was pushing you against the bed, and you fell backwards landing on the mattress.

[wazm]

kinda lost blog

I just wish to feel genuine joy in my life. I'm so afraid of chasing my goals cos what if I get to where I need to be and it's not exactly what I want. nevermind trying to reach for my goals cos I've been doing that..working every day..trying to bring myself closer to my goals but fail...struggling to sit down and just write music...i can't get myself to do it... I can't get myself to create anything.. I procrastinate the things I'm supposed to do with irrelevant big tasks..trying to distract myself constantly... I just feel empty inside...

what makes my hallow chest even deeper is the fact that all my relationships remind me of the bad decisions I've made..and theyre, not even bad decisions..its just meh...average..nothing worthwhile noting really..combined with abunch of negative outcomes...like he fact that i know a shit ton of people but i have zero real friends...i once had a friend who knew me for more than 7 years but he never exactly knew his boundaries...he’d show up to my house unannounced...id never get space...but at least i still had a friend..id do countless favors for him and never ask him anything in return but giving me space...one time i tried distancing myself from him and when i started to notice, he got so offended...after this happened, we never spoke to months...probs the longest time apart since we’ve been friends...then we kinda rekindled things...and he decided to plan a guys trip to bring us closer together...trip was okay...but ended really bad...he blocked me off everything..games, facebook, whatsapp...everything...he lives up the road from me...but ive never seen him since....idk if its a blessing or a curse...i hope things are okay with him...he wasnt the smartest but he was smart enough to comprehend certain sitautions ive been going through...good enough for me to vent to and console me...thats kinda all i need sometimes...but no more of that...he was kinda my bridge to a group of other friends we had...and after the boys trip it was like i lost everyone..social life took a hard knock...im sorry..just wish you trusted me more...

i tried filling the void by making my gf do things i did with my friends...never went down well...she just seems like someone who never knows how to have fun anymore..we used to have interesting chats..i was so inlove with her, I never saw her flaws...and she taught me this word “resentment”...well its not tht i never saw her flaws...i just chose to ignore them..and told myself that things will get better, and she’ll grow..and change...but i feel like shes been making me more like her since we’ve been dating...i swear i did so much things before her...but we’ve been together so long, i dont even know who that person is anymore...i bet, even if i left her, i wouldnt be able to bounce back...and the odd thing is that, when we started dating almost 5 years ago, i made it our philosphy that we are individuals in a relationship, we are not the relationship but it seems like she wasnt even herself back then and started being me...and now its like, shes nothing without me and my whole life has grown so much onto her, i kinda feel the same in return...just less attached to her since i felt like i was feeding her nucleas...might be exaggerating but homegirl cant initiate anything without me. nevermind choosing a meal when we go out, she cant even make a plan without needing 90% input from my side...and thats how most things are between us...if shes upset, ill fix it...risk my life and beyond to fix it...physically have done this many times before...walked from my house to hers at 2am in the morning, through the ghettos, more than a kilometer away..even been gun pointed and got things stolen from me, just to make her feel better when she was upset in the middle of the night...im not expecting that in return but she lits does the bare minimum in return...id be sad, then she be like...awww...im sad you’re sad...done..thats it...she’d lits be like...what can i do to fix things....again wanting my input...i might as well be dating myself...idk why im with this girl anymore...i hurt inside everytime i tell her i love her...cos i just dont anymore...and its been like this for a while...i wish she found this post and decided to leave me..cos i cant leave her...ive broken her heart so many times and told her i wanted to leave but i just end up coming back to her cos im sucha fucking pussy seeking some sort of social acceptence or friendship and i feel like shes all i have rn...not much of a gf hey...but its not like im worth anything either...idk...im so paranoid shes cheated on me in the past cos shes lied to me in the past and told me 3 years later about those lies...you know when someone lies to you and then when you find out about the lies and you ask why’d you do it and shes like...idk...i just feel like its lies ontop of lies...really cant trust her....i wish i had it in me to cheat on her...but i just dont like most females...id be infatuated with someone but would be put off so easily by the slightest thign...things would make so much sense if i was secretly gay but im not...the longer i seem to be in this place, the deeper im digging my grave...i feel like the time with my almost 5 year relationship feels like its getting harder to leave the longer i stay in it....i really dont know what to do...but i feel like i fuck up most of my relationships...not just my romantic one...

my relationship with my parents are just a nightmare...same goes for my other family members...and you know what...i do so much for people...countless favors...countless volunteer jobs...extra miles for people who wont even move an inch for me...but just let me mention this to anyone, then im in the wrong...i just feel like i cant voice any shortcomings to anyone and im made out to be the bad guy for doing this....whether its my parents or my sisters...id do everything for them, and i do everything for them, even things they dont ask me for...but let me raise an opinion that doesnt resonate with them, and it turns into an argument and if i decide to step out before things get sour, im still made out to be the bad guy cos how dare i do something so rude....i just feel like no1 wants to listen to me at all...for my last birthday i tried staying away from my family and decided to work on a few movies with my friends and i had fun, we arent the closes friends but, campus friends...theyre actually in a whole other faculty..so we just barely know eachother but we’ve worked on movies before and thats kinda our history together as friends....so its my birthday and i agreed to work with them on this day...all day..from like 7am until almost 10pm..and my family, not communicating with me, decides to go out for supper for my birthday...and just expects me to leave this project im working on for them...so they invite people to join them for this birthday supper...without having me there...anyways after i finished my day shooting, i was pretty smug about working instead of spending the day with my family...and on the last few moments of my birthday my sister makes a shitty comment, wanting me to shut the fuck up cos she doesnt have the energy to listen to my voice..it really broken my heart, how my whole birthday was spoilt in moments....wish she couldve just waited a tiny bit longer...i wouldve been happy with that..but naa...no1 wants to listen to anything i have to say, let alone have me around in their presence....i just feel like starting a new life somewhere else...and thats kinda what i had planned...

really thought i was going to leave south africa and immigrate to australia to go sound study there...filled in all the paper work...spoke back-and-forth with the uni over there and they extended the communication so long, i thought things were set...seemed like i was so close to getting the big change ive been seeking for so long...but they sent me this stinky ‘ol email with extra modules id have to do and the tuition fees went from $11,000 to $35,000 which is ridiculous as my countries currency isnt australian dollars and is 10 units weaker than theirs...never in my life have i ever felt like money defined my life...lits had my life in limbo cos i was waiting for responses from this people...and when i finally got a response it was too late to apply at the local college...idk what im doing this year...i tried looking for work online, but no response...made ads for work on fiverr...tried upwork, tried quickengig...even rev...all these sites people advertise as quick ways to make money....a bunch of lies...i made $0, 3 weeks going now. nothing. i even invested in making a business logo, wrote descriptions...adjusted my ads multiple times...still...blue ticks from the online work field...i applied for jobs ive seen on indeed and on gumtree and jobfinder....but no response...nothing...blue ticked...ima say luckily im working part-time for this events company and its kinda an opportunity to network with the sound industry but the live sound industry is filled with racist pricks who patronize you when you’ve done the time to learn the work they know...so no work online freelancing, no work applying for work..no work physically meeting people...really makes me feel like this isnt a viable option for me...cant even study locally or internationally anymore...

im just so lost...alone..hurt..wish someone would save me the way ive saved others before..

[micah-the-mango-writes]

“Empty”

16 December 2018

Hello there! Recently, I received a prompt on touch starvation and holy moley, I just couldn’t pass off the opportunity to write a story that explores this! I did some research on touch starvation and had even spoken to a few close friends who had experienced touch starvation in their life. I have to say that touch starvation is a real thing in this world. 

And with that, I present to you, “Empty”. 

“Empty”

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Breathe.

Jon knows that his body is screaming and demanding for sleep but yet, it was his brain who kept the gears running. It is past 2am in the morning and Jon thinking

Normally, Jon doesn’t stay up all night thinking, at least not when he is in the comforts of his own house and bed. Under normal circumstances, he would use this time of the night to sleep and on rare occasions, frantically edit a video that he had pushed aside until the approaching deadline had left him with no choice but to burn midnight oil. When he was younger, he would maybe party somewhere and have a few drinks. There was one night where he had a little too much to drink and woke up with not only hungover that came a throbbing headache but his arms wrapped around the toilet bowl in his house.

That night would forever be etched unto his mind as a reminder to never end up in a similar plight. Drinking was once a problem for him, but those days are long gone and behind him.

Despite all of this, Jon is wide awake and is still thinking.

Insomnia isn’t something that was new to him. As a film student, it was normal for him to develop insomnia especially when you have countless of films to edit and you have to deliver the best. Film student days had long been over for him, and now insomnia is simply his body signalling how it is incapable of falling asleep despite the looming fatigue that coursed through his entire body.

Tonight, however, Jon is kept awake by his brain overthinking things. He always had the tendency to overthink. Most of the time, his tendency to overthink strikes when he is tasked to film a video for work or when he is out with people. He knows that overthinking could sometimes lead to more damage than good and by the end of the day, he would find himself mentally drained from all overthinking that was done.

Instead, he’s thinking about how vast his bed is and how empty his hands feel, curling around into a fist, clutching around nothing, and how his chest just feels empty. It’s as though someone had dug a fist into his chest and took out his heart, leaving him empty with a hole.

Jon turned to his side to face the window outside where every unit in the flat opposite his were dark, save for a few units who had already set up their Christmas trees and left the Christmas lights on the tree to last the night. Jon wraps his arm around himself, clutching onto his biceps and sighs, just to feel less empty.

Loneliness was something that Jon shouldn’t be feeling, it’s ridiculous considering the type of person he is. He’s an extrovert geek with the love of movies, he has friends and family who love him, he even has a ridiculous number of girls swooning over him wherever he went. One could say that people are drawn to Jon and some, more like girls, would kill just to spend time with him.

Jon’s first language of love is physical touch and even though some people had called on the whole first language being horseshit, he knows that love language survey that he took was accurate. There’s a part of him that yearns to be touched. In his past relationship, he was someone who enjoyed holding the hand of his partner or even embraced her into a crushing hug after a long day at work. He was someone who is not afraid to show some appropriate public display of affection, much to the dismay of his ex-girlfriend who is a bit shy.

That relationship had ended a while ago and now his desire to be touched is back. Being the old romantic he is, he is not the type to have casual one night stands with a stranger just to satisfy that need.  For a while, Jon thought that it could be because it was sexual frustration but he knows that he just wants to be able to innocently touch another person.

Jon may not be a science person but he knows that it’s biology for humans to touch. Humans are after all, social animals and the touch of someone you are close to causes hormones to be released, hormones that makes you happy and comfortable. Even babies need the touch of their parents!

Ever since his break up, it was as if his body had gone through certain changes overnight. It was as though his body didn’t want to be touched anymore. It had gotten to the point where any form of touch, be it the accidental brushing of the fingers, to hugs would trigger all his senses and cause him to feel electrocuted. All of sudden, his ‘flight or fight’ response in his nervous system gets activated and would send Jon into a nervous breakdown. It was as though he wishes for people to stop touching him and at the same time yearned to be touched, which is ridiculous.

He thought about how it was hard to avoid the touches of others, especially the ones from Ruby.

Ruby…

Jon covered his face with hands and let out a loud groan. Ruby had always been a touchy person. Whenever she sees someone she knows, she would rush up to that person and pull them into an embrace. Even when getting acquainted with new people, Ruby would always be the first to offer them a handshake (a sign of how she is very mature for her age) or give them a fist pump. Her touchy-ness even extends to her guy friends, which is something that people who don’t know Ruby that well, would often misunderstood as gestures that Ruby is flirting with someone. Jon could bet that Ruby’s first love language would be physical touch.

Ruby always kind of in Jon’s space but that was because they sat together in the same office and were pretty much stuck to each other on the hip.  After all, they are co-workers and best friends.

Even though Ruby does have the tendency to touch people, she is also aware of sensitivity of the situation and whether or not her touches are appropriate. Ruby had always given Jon the space that he needed, careful about poking at his bubble.

Ruby had always been the one to reach out. Whether it was gentle taps on the shoulder, touches on his forehead or neck to check if he has a fever, nudges at the elbow… She just continued to reach out, touches to gesture to him of her care and concern for him. Touches to show that she is here for him. Jon knows that Ruby knows him well, sometimes too well to see through the barriers that Jon had put up to fake his happiness or lack of confidence.

Jon knows that Ruby is reaching out and yearns to be touched but yet he shakes it off when Ruby offers, sometimes missing the pain or disappointment that flickered across her face before it was replaced by a sad smile. He would just escape her hugs, saying something about not wanting his hair or clothes to be ruffled or messed with.

He knows that Ruby could see through his lies but he can’t bring himself to explain it other than how suddenly learned to not be close or intimate with anyone anymore. Thankfully he is not a helpless case, he is still able to hug a few of his co-workers and even his Sunday School children but Jon still feels empty. It was as though a few hugs every once in a while is not enough to fulfil this strange need for closeness. Jon wishes he could ignore the need sometimes but as each day passes with almost next to not getting any physical touch, he found himself growing more desperate.

Tomorrow would be another day at work and he knows that once again, he’ll see Ruby. He thought to himself that maybe he should reciprocate some of the contact to Ruby. After all, Ruby is his best friend and if there is any person he could go to in this hour of desperation, it would be her. Jon knows that Ruby had been kept in the dark for far too long and she doesn’t deserve to not know what is happening in his life. He secretly hoped that Ruby wouldn’t look at him as though he was some sexually frustrated creep even though he knows that Ruby would never show him any ounce of judgement.

With that in mind, Jon closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep.

------------------------------------------

As soon as Jon entered the office, he found a cup of Mocha Frappuccino on his table and Ruby furiously typing away on her laptop. Sensing Jon’s presence, Ruby turned to look at Jon.

“Hey,” she said. “I would like to talk to you more and I am so sorry, Jon, but if I don’t submit this by 10 a.m., Jess is going to kill me. I’ll talk to you later, is that okay?”

Before Jon could reply, Ruby went back to typing furiously on her laptop and was only able to murmur an “Okay”.

It turned out that his plan was easier said than done but Jon knows that there was a time for everything, so he drank a few gulps of the Frappuccino that Ruby had bought for him and set about doing some of his work beside Ruby.

____________________________________________________

“Yo, Jon!” Ruby said, swinging her chair to face Jon, making him take his headphones off. “Wanna grab lunch?”

Jon let out a prayer of thanks to God and nods. “Sure.”

Ruby gave him a smile and closes her laptop as she made a move to stand up. While standing up, their arms brushed against each other and Jon shuddered, trying his hardest to not jerk or flinch away.

“Jon… You okay?” Ruby asked looking at Jon, her eyebrows pinched together to form a crease.

“Y-yeah…” Jon stammered, swallowing the mass that was growing in his throat. “Just a bit brain fried from the project that we’re working on.”

Ruby let out a thoughtful hum and touches his shoulder, almost making him jump at the touch. Jon could see something flicker across Ruby’s eyes but he thought it was just his mind playing trips on him. “Take a break. Jon,” she said as she gave his shoulder a few reassuring squeezes. “We can talk to Brent about delaying the project, we don’t have to finish filming by March.”

Jon could tell that Ruby was starting to get worried, and he didn’t want Ruby to be worried. Instead, he wants to tell Ruby everything but he knows that now is not the right time.

“Nah, I think it’s fine. I just need to chill to de-tress or something. I’m always like this when I work on a huge film project.” Jon said, scratching the nape of his neck.

Ruby removed her hand from his shoulder as she let out a thoughtful hum. Jon could still feel the imprint of Ruby’s hand on his shoulder and he was already starting to miss the warmth and contact.

“I don’t normally do this because I’ve never done this before but would you wanna drop by my place tonight? There’s this function room that I could book where we could maybe use the Playstation… or are you leaning more towards watching a movie with some popcorn… you know, the usual like how we do it at yours, but this time at my place?”

Jon’s heart leaped and he had to stop himself from smiling widely. It was as though God had somewhat answered his prayers.

“Sure man, sounds good to me.”

“Nice!” Ruby said, smiling widely. “We’ll hang out after work but now we gotta move because if we don’t, we’ll have to stand in line. I don’t know for you man but if I have to wait for another fifteen minutes just to get my fish soup, I will flip someone’s table.”

Without thinking, Ruby grabbed Jon’s wrist and dragged him out into the office. Unbeknownst to Ruby, goosebumps had erupted all over Jon’s skin and he felt his heartbeat slow down again. Jon was almost happy with a bit of contact from Ruby and what was to come in the evening.

---------------------------------------

After lunch, Ruby and Jon made their way back to office and immediately started working on their projects. As soon as Ruby left her desk to film a few videos, the rest of the day had seemed to pass in a blur. Jon remembered running around the logistics storage rooms to ensure that every logistic needed for a few scenes was at its rightful place. Afterwards, he got dragged into this last minute meeting with a few other co-workers on another film idea that was being pitched and they needed Jon’s expertise and film knowledge. Before he knew it, he felt Ruby slump next to him on her chair.  Jon took off his headphones to see that it was half an hour past 6p.m. and almost everyone had checked out and gone home.

“Hey,” Jon said.

“Hey,” Ruby said, “Long day, huh?”

“Yeah…” Jon said. “Wanna check out and head over to your place?”

Ruby beamed at him and he thought that she reminded him of a sunflower. God, he hoped that coming clean with her tonight would not make her feel uncomfortable. “Thought you wouldn’t ask bro!” she said.

------------------------------------------

They had decided to go on a horror film marathon since the both of them found themselves in the mood to do so. They started the marathon with the first movie being “Gonjiam Haunted Asylum” as they munched on their McDonalds and had the lights turned off. About halfway into the movie, Jon found himself sitting closer to Ruby than where he had originally been in the beginning of the movie. It just somehow just happened, but then again there were watching a horror movie. Each time there was a jump scare, Ruby couldn’t help but shuffle closer to Jon or had her hand land on Jon’s thigh. During moments like these, Jon forces himself to relax and breathe properly, allowing his body to just melt into the comfortable couch.

That right, breathe in and breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

And breathe out.

If Jon had been a bit more comfortable and less tense, he would have leaned his head against Ruby’s, something that close friends would do when watching a movie and yet, he felt as though he shouldn’t have the right to have such desires.

While Jon was swimming in his thoughts, another jump scare had caused Ruby to scream and had her arms flailing to wrap around him instinctively. This time, Jon flinched at the unexpected contact and he looked at the arms wrapped around him, causing Ruby to look at him questionably.

Shit, he thought to himself.

“Sorry…” Ruby said softly, withdrawing her arms. “You okay?”

Jon breathed in deeply and breathed out. “Yeah… Just wasn’t expecting that jump scare, ha…”

Ruby chewed on her bottom lip, clearly not showing that she was buying the act. Her face expression looked as though she wanted to ask more but instead, she nodded and turned her head back to the screen as the movie continued to play.

For the rest of the movie, Ruby didn’t touched Jon and even when there were many more jump scars, Ruby refrained from touching Jon. If anything, it seemed as if Ruby had moved an inch away from him just to give him that personal space. Jon’s heart ached, already internally blaming himself for how the night with Ruby is already ruined

Great…

 --------------------------------

As soon as the credits of the movie started to roll, Ruby took the remote control and paused the movie. She sighed as she placed the remove on the glass table where it was strewn with McDonalds take away wrappers and bits of popcorn. For a moment, neither of them said anything nor did they look at each other in the eye.

“So…” Ruby begun. She had started to drum her fingers on her thighs, making soft tapping noises. “Are you going to share with me what’s been bothering you these few days?”

Ruby said this with eyes still looking at the screen, clearly not ready to make eye contact with Jon, clearly with the intention of not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. Despite the lack of eye contact, Ruby sounded genuinely concerned and Jon immediately feel like a douche for keeping her in the dark.

“It’s not something big… Don’t worry, I got a hold of this…” Jon said, gulping. Out of the corner of his eye, Jon could see that Ruby had slowly turned her head and was now looking at him, humming to herself. He knows that Ruby could see through his lies and he secretly wishes that the comfortable couch could just swallow him whole.

“Jon…” Ruby said slowly, as if she was unsure. “If there’s something going on in your personal life and you prefer to deal with it alone then that’s fine... Just letting ya know that we’re friends and if there’s anything going on, you know that you can tell me too, right?”

Jon closes his eyes and sighs. “It’s just complicated and hard to explain…” Jon mumbled. He glanced over to look at Ruby to find her shuffling closer to him but also keeping a respectable space between them. Their eyes meet and he finds himself looking at Ruby’s warm brown eyes. Eyes that carried nothing but concern and openness. He figured if he stared into those eyes for a long time, he could just drown in the kindness and softness of those eyes.

“Hey… If you are not comfortable to share then it’s okay… Just so happened to see you troubled and affected by what’s been going on in your life and was wondering if I could maybe help you in some way?”

There is a way…, Jon thoughts to himself.

“Just some stuff happening and well…” Jon takes in a deep breath and decided to maybe just take a plunge into the water.

“I forgot what it’s like to be able to touch people.”

Every thing around them stopped and they are enveloped by silence. Ruby is staring at him, with eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. A million neurons were firing in Jon’s system and many thoughts were starting to cloud his mind.

That’s it, Jon, you’re done for. Better get ready to take cover by burying yourself in the hole and do yourself a favour by not emerging out of your makeshift hole, Jon thought to himself.

Jon could see the flicker of worry across Ruby’s face and he felt a punch to his gut. He  knew he should have been more prepared to see the worry look from Ruby, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to be pitied.

“Jon… I didn’t know… ” Ruby said softly, breaking the silence. “I mean, I just assumed that maybe you weren’t that much of a touchy person…”

“It’s not your fault.” Jon said. “I mean… Things were fine when you got a girlfriend but ever since we broke up, I kind of… I guess I kind of stopped touching and I didn’t realized I was so bad until I realized that I couldn’t even touch people even if I tired. It drives me nuts, as though I keep on getting myself electrocuted for every time I try to touch something. It messes with your mind.”

Ruby chewed on her lip and appeared to be thinking. Jon is surprised that Ruby hadn’t got up of the couch and ran towards the opposite direction. Instead, her arm was still draped across the back of the couch and her body is still turned towards him. If anything, he saw her shuffle closer to him until their thighs were barely touching.

“Jon… I had no idea you were going through so much…”

Jon let out a scoff. “I guess it’s because I’m a pretty open person, so people don’t expect me to not be as transparent about something like this, huh?”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Ruby said, though she wasn’t laughing. Ruby paused for a moment and she leaned closer, expression becoming softer. “Look, the most that I could do as your best friend is to make it all up to you… And it means a lot that you would trust me and share with me something that has been bothering you for so long… So I was thinking…”

Ruby paused for a while and exhaled. Jon cocked his head to the side, not catching the train of thought that was running through her mind.

“I was thinking that maybe you could, I don’t know, just need you to learn how to touch someone again? Ruby started but she stopped when she saw the look of horror that went across Jon’s face. She raised her hands in response. “Hear me out, hear me out. (Jon’s face relaxed) I mean like having little doses touching so that you could get used to contact again and then we’ll see what happens from there?”

Jon didn’t say anything and just stared.

“Look, Jon... I don’t want to make it seemed as though I’m forcing you to do this okay? If you are not comfortable doing this with me or what, that’s perfectly fine.” Ruby said, giving him another soft smile.

Jon eye’s widened and he scrambled to say something, to prevent Ruby from moving away but Ruby shook her head and gave him another smile, assuring him that she wasn’t going to leave. He felt his heart beat slowed down.

“I mean, it’s just an offer… But if you want to try… then I could help you. If you’re fine with it, of course.”

Jon swallows and blinks.

“You really would help me?” he said, voice sounding soft.

“You’re my best friend, Jon… Of course I’d help you… I mean, hugging people that you are close to is really nice…”

Jon squirmed in his seat and he felt as though the temperature had dropped. Ruby was laying down an offer to help him relearn his ability to touch others but there was this looming thought in his head. What if this would mess with their friendship? What if it would put her in a weird position? What if-

“Jon,” Ruby said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I know what you’re thinking… or I think I do… But just know that this won’t mess up with our friendship… I’ll make sure it won’t happen.”

Jon shrugged. “I don’t know… I just don’t want this mess up with our friendship or put you into this weird position… Or what if this complicates with some secret relationship you might have, not that I need to know but –“

“Jon, you’re rambling…” Ruby interrupted with a sigh. “But even so, did you really think this would have been an issue if I wasn’t in this “secret relationship” which my best friend just happens to not know?”

Huh.

“B-but… I saw you and Terry the other day…” Jon started, mind still swimming over the new revelation. “I just assumed…”

Ruby shook with her head with a soft smile. “Terry’s great but he’s not my type. It was only one date. Anyway, we’re straying off topic here. We’re supposed to be talking about you.”

Jon didn’t say anything.

“Well…” Ruby started. “Do you want to work on this? I mean, if you want to, of course…”

Jon didn’t say anything and everything became quiet. Jon felt a swell in his heart, thankful that Ruby had not chosen to bail out on him and run in the opposite direction. Instead, she had chosen to stay, listen and even offered to help him. He wondered what good he had done in his life to deserve such a wonderful friend. He felt hot tears swelling in his eyes and he sniffed.

Ruby’s eyes widened at the tears that are pooling around his tear ducts but Jon shook his head and smiled, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. Ruby’s worried expression fell away instantly and with a bit of hesitation, Ruby stretched her hand towards him. Before he knew it, Ruby’s fingertips is on Jon’s arm and ran her fingers down his arm, applying the least amount of pressure as if he was a delicate glass that could break any moment. Jon felt his breath shake and instead of panic, he felt a wave of warmth wash over him.

For a while, they sat in a comfortable silence before Jon decides to do make the next move. He slowly lifts his arm and Ruby’s fingers withdraw to give him space to move. Jon lifted his right palm and with a bit of hesitation, pressed his fingers against Ruby’s, applying minimal pressure.

“How you doing?” Ruby asks.

Jon nodded and tried to make his breathing even. Ruby smiled and she made the next move. She slowly presses the rest of her palm unto Jon’s while keeping her eyes trained on Jon to make sure that the touch is not overwhelming.

“That okay?” Ruby asked, tilting her head. Jon smiled and nodded slowly. So far, so good. “Your turn…” she continued.

With a hint of hesitation, Jon moves his fingers between the spaces of Ruby’s fingers and gently pushes them down until his fingers are interlocked with Ruby’s. He closed his eyes, starting to feel the goose bumps around his skin and he lets out a shaky breath.

“Too much?” Ruby asked, looking ready to gently extricate her fingers. Jon shakes his head, not wanting to miss the warmth and contact. All of a sudden, he felt hot, wanting to flinch away but at the same time feeling as if the touch was not enough.

“My turn…” Ruby said, voice becoming softer. She ran her thumb over his hand in soothing circular motions, sensing his tension and coaxing him to relax. Jon closed his eyes, trying to relax. Deep down, Jon still feels as though he doesn’t deserve Ruby’s help and that what they are doing has been a terrible mistake.

“Don’t think so much, Jon…” Ruby said after she notices that Jon’s face expression had scrunched up, an indication that he is slowly losing himself to his thoughts again. Her thumb continued to run over his skin insistently, assuring him once again that she is going to help him, regardless of the logistics required.

“You okay?” Ruby asks, gaining another nod from Jon. “You’re doing so well, Jon… Wanna make the next move?”

Jon moved his left hand and Ruby’s hand withdrew a bit to give his hand space to move. He turned his left hand until his palm was facing Ruby’s and Ruby placed her palm in his until they were holding hands.

Sweat is starting to collect between their interlocked hands and Ruby made the next move by extricating her fingers from Jon’s, only to slowly land her hand on his left shoulder.

“How are you feeling?”

For a moment, Jon didn’t say anything. He then opens his mouth only for a croak to come out and tears starting to pool around his eye ducts. He feels the tears threatening to overflow and run down his cheeks and Ruby’s eyes widened.

“Too much?” she asks, voice starting to waver with the weight of concern and panic.

Jon shakes his head, choosing to wipe his tears away with the back of his hand. He wants to tell Ruby that it wasn’t her fault and hat she was helping.

“J-just a bit overwhelmed…” Jon said, voice barely a whisper.

“Oh Jon…” Ruby said, thumb now running again on his clothed shoulder in circular motions. It seems to be a habit of Ruby’s but it helps him to relax and keeps him grounded. “Do you want to stop?”

Jon shook his head.

“Okay…” Ruby’s voice is quiet. “Tell me if it is, alright? (Jon nods) I’m going to put my other hand on your other shoulder now.”

Ruby extracts her right hand from Jon and places it on his other shoulder. She presses her hands on his shoulders, applying the tiniest weight and Jon finds himself slowly getting used to the contact. In fact, he finds that he is able to breathe a bit more normally.

Jon drags his eyes from his right shoulder to meet Ruby’s, who was staring at him intently. Ruby offers him a soft smile as she tilted her head, asking if she could make another move to which Jon nods. Jon felt Ruby’s hand slide away from his shoulders and down his arms in feather light touches until his fingers are linked with hers. Jon felt a wave of heat wash over him and he expected goose pumps to pickle on his skin or feel electrocuted. However, Jon feels nothing and he lets out a sigh of relief.

Jon squeezes Ruby’s fingers and Ruby squeezes back.

It felt good.

They are making progress.

“That’s not so bad…” Jon said, looking at Ruby again.

Ruby looks at him and smiles.

“That means we’re making progress.” Ruby says.

 -----------------------------------------

Jon knew that it was an issue that he couldn’t solve overnight or within a few days but after that night, he found himself being able to accept and receive little touches without jumping or flinching away. He knows that he is still a work in progress but despite this, Ruby continues to walk with him through this journey of relearning how to touch again.

Each night, Jon feels the hole in his chest starting to become smaller. Instead, of emptiness inhabiting his chest, he feels warmth starting to take over. His nights are no longer lonely, for he has Ruby by his side.

FIN