#my brainworms for this couple... it's too much

[thedeadthree]

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ➸ irulanne . the rook .

𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 . 𝐄𝐋𝐅 . 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄 .

-`. template by @kanos . coloring . icons .

✧ ― 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (ask to be added or removed or interact 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞!!):

@pavus, @wlwaerith, @shadowsofrose, @grapecaseschoices, @nokstella

@queennymeria, @risingsh0t, @carrionsflower, @leviiackrman, @griffin-wood

@confidentandgood, @aceghosts, @tommyarashikage, @shadowglens, @yharnams

@anoras, @theelderhazelnut, @florbelles, @celticwoman, @pinkfey

@kyberinfinitygems, @cloudofbutterflies92, @carlosoliveiraa, @shellibisshe, @adelaidedrubman

@lavampira, @capelizabeth, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @statichvm, @unholymilf

@aezyrraeshh, @imogenkol, @aceghosts, @full---ofstarlight, @ellierenae

[purplecelestial-buddy]

It's so funny to me that the fandom has come to see Hirano as a Sasamiya promoter of sorts because while he is, it took him some time to get accustomed to the idea of them together. And while he was never a hater Sasaki's actions towards Miyano certainly used to get on his nerves.

At first he was so worried and probably even felt a little guilty because (as mentioned in the following screenshot) because the only reason why Sasaki knows which class Miya is in, is thanks to him.

But like, that's not the face of a friend that's happy to play cupid and get their two acquaintances together. Not at all, that's the face of someone who puts his sempai-kouhai relationship with Miyano over his (pseudo) friendship with Sasaki.

Hirano from the first chapters would have jailed Sasaki if he were allowed to. (And he has his reasons, Sasaki has been something since the first chapters)

Anyway, the progression of events is really interesting.

He started, quite literally, shielding Miyano from Sasaki.

Then, he came to accept their relationship.

And at the end he really was rooting for them, to the point he ended up outright lying just so Miyano could meet Sasaki and they could talk it out and confess.

[jelliebeanbitch]

hey why do we always draw caitlyn so that she looks skinny as fuck? like ridiculously skinny? like no internal organs skinny? yes i know she’s skinny in the show but that’s never stopped tumblr fanartists before!! i feel like it’s getting more and more exaggerated to the point of feeling weird and beauty-standard-y and unrealistic. we know that vi would kiss a caitlyn with a little bit (or a lot) of tummy !!!!

[presiding]

What is your favourite thing about Billie Lurk?

(Answers are obvious possibly but i love when people talk about her👍)

thanks for the ask!! YEAH ME TOO I love when people talk about Billie! I can't say I have a favourite thing specifically, but I can explain why she's my fav. apologies for not taking this qn literally, but -

short answer: she’s really cool

& you can stop reading there, or, for the maybe 2 mutuals who might have time to read this my thoughts on her as a character, her meta, and her character as raw potential...

long answer:

i considered making this entire thing a gush so you could read a gush about Billie. but, part of what draws me to her is that she’s not always well written, and in fandom she’s underrated for a literal protagonist.

since you ask...

billie is a cool character

when I played Dh2 (hadn't played Dh1), I was excited to see a black woman with disabilities who was captaining a massive ship by herself. wow.

then I discovered Billie’s backstory with Deirdre, the way she responded to that, then having to survive while living on the run, and her bisexuality. as well as her history with daud & delilah. fascinating!

she’s an outsider who has so much to lose, and knows what it's like to lose everything - having lost everything not once but three times - but nevertheless speaks truth to power. she's so brave! she went and helped Emily & Corvo and she must have known they might kill her! plus, she’s smart, she’s funny, she gets shit done, she’s gorgeous.

but... the meta

mild critique of fandom & arkane incoming.

skip this bit if you want - you've been warned twice now - jump to tired Hayao Miyazaki and read from there if you'd like my thoughts on writing her.

i thought Death of the Outsider was going to be amazing and then... well. *sad trombone* i've written about that before so i won't keep banging on. i figured others must be disappointed too, so I joined a few fandom spaces in hopes of finding camaraderie.

most people with complaints about DotO didn’t like how the Outsider and Daud were handled. which is valid & I agree. but it seemed like most paid no attention to Billie; when people talk about her it’s with respect to Daud, as opposed to in her own right. you could argue for fandom misogyny because people don’t talk about adult Emily Kaldwin that much either, but in Billie's case, it’s misogynoir (compare & contrast with the popularity of thomas, particularly the popularity of thomas portrayed as a white man for no particular reason that i've been able to discern - i keep asking around, is it in the books???).

i think this is a LOT better now than it used to be, which is fantastic. or perhaps i have found the correct echo-chamber? ha.

ultimately, The Fandom is a fraction of the entire picture, and not even the important bit since The Fandom is not who these games are made for. you can't make money relying on only your hardcore fans even if all of them spent a fortune on merch, this is true for any AAA game.

while it's true that Billie is underrated from a fandom perspective - but Billie as an underwritten protagonist is squarely Arkane’s fault.

it was reasonable when she was a side character - the lack of info in Dh2 makes perfect sense (if anything there was more lore in Dh2 which is kind of wild)-

- but as a protagonist in Death of the Outsider?

.... there’s lousy writing, and there’s whatever is going on with Billie Lurk, a black woman who mostly exists as a foil or saviour for light-skinned characters. In her own game there’s barely any of her own lore except where it's relevant to saving two dudes.

lore hints at, but barely touches on what race means in the Dh universe (xenophobia is stronger in Dh1; separate essay i guess), but Arkane has patted themselves on the back for portraying non-white characters, which feels like the same thing as the aesthetic of diversity we're seeing in advertising currently because it’s in marketing trend guides. it's self-congratulatory and it's a missed opportunity for deeper storytelling.

you can see an example of diversity at its most shallow in the way that Billie’s written: there’s little engagement with her as an entire person with history & wants & preferences, and the world she walks through in that game feels like it has nothing to do with her. you could make a case for alienation as a theme, but then, how do you handle the titular premise of 'Dishonored' without ever letting Billie make changes in an environment without a chaos system? it's disappointing from that angle too.

in my opinion, whatever it's worth, it was an accident Arkane created such an awesome character - they needed someone to betray daud. congrats billie.

all this said, it makes her an underdog as far as characters to enjoy & create art & stories for. it's nice to find so many like-minded, switched on people! <3

billie's character potential

she’s got a wealth of unexplored lore, being deeply intertwined with both Karnaca & Dunwall’s fates & criminal underbellies, as well as her connections to the witches & whalers, and three Empresses.

she’s lived a few distinct lifetimes and in the games we get to meet her at two peaks (KoD & DotO) & a low (Dh2 as Meagan).

her voice is very distinct, her dry & often dark humour is entertaining & fun to write. her perspective is really interesting - she’s had the widest variety of void-powers of anyone canonically, and she’s also lived through the highest highs and lowest lows.

she's got everything going for her :) i couldn't really pick a fav thing!

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Points at you. 10 and/or 11 for starstruck?

Two starstruck asks,,,,,,joy of joys,,

Part of an ask game linked here.

#10. What's an au you have for them?

Since them meeting at all is technically an AU i have 3 different ways that they do meet up. There's the one where Juniper ends up with the agency/adjacent to and ends up working with Reggie (have written a fic with this). The next one is Juniper surviving but basically going stealth and living as normal of a life as he can and ending up meeting Reggie through chance (most recent fic I've written). And then there's my personal favourite where Reginald "You're lucky my tracking skills are still up to snuff" Crane keeping himself busy after Phoenix was MIA and finding Juniper still alive (fic I want to write but haven't started mainly because it may end up multi chapter).

In terms of more AU canon bending taking them and putting them in a completely unrelated situation...I have a guilty pleasure Warrior Cats AU for IEYTD in general. Both JJ and Reggie have perfect warrior cats suffixes in their names already (Juniper and Crane) so they're called Junipersong (charcoal bengal) and Craneflight (tabby Norwegian forest cat). It's very silly but the amount of scenes I have in my mind for it...good lord...

#11. How was their first kiss like?

Augh my friend Imp wrote an absolutely excellent fic about it (tragically in the realm of unfinished Google docs) and I'm shaking their hand about it so hard. Basically Juniper kissing Reggie but he like wasn't ready/fully expecting it and Juniper absolutely panicking because he thinks he's misread every interaction between them both since they got closer. The second one is much sweeter though,,

[nvuy]

tumblr did not let me post this as a proper answer because tumblr hates me. BUT the council says: BEHOLD. an excerpt from my potential extended hijacked spin off boothill fic that that may or may not be potentially finished and posted so........... take it..................... anon you might not ever see this post but the brainworms are so huge and genius and i think you cooked......................

“Tha’s the hardest part… still bein’ here.”

There’s smoke in the air, and it curls around the windshield of your car. He’s called shotgun, as per usual, but that’s because you refuse to let him drive. Especially at night. He makes you feel sick when he takes corners faster than he slams the brakes at red lights.

The car hasn’t moved for a while. The drive had been rocky; there was no destination. Just away from the city for now. You’ve managed to find a secluded area deep in a stretch of trees, and there hasn’t been a car that’s passed on the dingy highway for ages now.

Smoking does nothing for him. He doesn’t have lungs to fill anymore, and the taste never appealed to him, but it helped take his mind off of everything.

Boothill felt the tug of the cigarette between his lips, and he let it go from his mouth before he watched as you shakily held it to your lips.

It’s disgusting. He snickers slightly when you cough and scrunch your eyes shut. You hand the cigarette back to him slowly.

You fan at your face, careful not to spill the half full bottle of wine balancing between your legs and the car seat. It’s one of the fancy brands Boothill snatched off the shelf on the way out of the bar from earlier after the manager had ordered him out. Something about not serving crooks. Whatever.

Your car reeks of smoke.

As much as the smell clogged your lungs, you hope it stays this way. 

“‘Specially since, y’know, it woulda been better if one o’ my dads lived, or my sisters, or even–” He takes another drag of the cigarette. “But, nah. Fate’s finicky like that. Leaves the worst ones standin’. That’s why we’re still around.”

And he’s right.

You take a sip from the bottle. You’re tipsy now. Definitely. You feel lighter than usual, and you’d worry about driving back somewhere to stay for the night.

You can’t drive in this state.

Boothill could drive back. You're too drunk to panic over how badly he swerves over the road.

And if he can’t, you could just sleep in the car for the night. It wouldn’t be the first time.

And, with him, maybe you would be okay.

Your vision is blurry, and there's an incessant burning beneath your eyelids. You quickly wipe your eyes. “Yeah.” God, you wish it was you who had disappeared. It would’ve saved your parents the heartache. You can’t even look at your reflection anymore. “Yeah, I get it.”

Boothill doesn’t say anything at first. He repeats your reply in his head like a mantra.

Instead, he blows smoke from his nose slowly in a long exhale, and then says, “I know you do.”

Furiously, you wipe your eyes again and tear your eyes away from the rearview mirror. You can’t will yourself to look. Though you feel nothing on your shoulder, you know the past sits behind you, and her hand rests on your skin like a weight.

Sometimes, it’s hard to even look at him, for when the metal of his body is reflective enough, you don’t see yourself, but her staring back at you.

He’s not sure what to say. Instead, he thinks it wise to potentially fry your car battery. He steals your phone charger hooked into the car and finds the slot that fits it best on his hip. Good enough. Hopefully it gives him enough juice to get through the next couple days.

“Oh, give it here.” You grab the wire from him. “You’re gonna break my damn charger.”

You peer at his ports curiously as he takes another drag of the silhouette, before you mumble something about the shape being a ‘USB-C’ and plug it into the right slot on his hip.

A small red light flashes to life above the port.

Boothill hums. “Thanks, sugar.” He doesn’t have to look at you, but the telltale scent of wine on your lips is enough for him to know. “You drunk?”

After a moment, you nod slowly. “Yeah.” Then, you twist in the chair to face him, bringing the bottle to your lips again. Your seatbelt is still on, even if the car has been parked for an hour. There’s a pang in your chest, and it tightens. “I miss her.”

She’s still staring at you in the mirror, but it’s not really her. Whatever this thing is, it’s not her. But it’s there, and it makes your heart race.

Boothill nods. “I miss my family, too.” He leans over and punches your thigh playfully. “But, I know your parents want ya to live for as long as you can. I know she would, too.”

You exhale. You’re beginning to feel sick now. Your stomach can’t take another blow from the wine, but you raise it to your lips anyway.

It burns when you swallow, like fire.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He stops. Then, he turns away and raises his eyebrows in exasperation. “Just tryin’ to lift ya spirits.” Still, as exhausted as he feels, his rests a hand on your thigh. It’s comforting, the weight of metal, and it takes your mind off the fingers on your shoulders.

“I don’t think you’re the worst,” you mumble. You actually think you’re worse. Then, you shrug lightly. “I don’t want to lose you when you go.” You hear him exhale, somewhat to rid the smoke from his mouth, and also in the form of a sigh. “I know you won’t believe me, but I think I care about you.”

After you admit it, you pull the rim of the bottle to your lips again.

And then again.

And again.

Three sips later, you’re on the verge of collapsing, and Boothill snatches the bottle from your hand and stands it up by his feet on the car floor.

Your lips are stained a dark red, as is your tongue, and there’s a dark flush on your neck.

Sweat gathers over your skin, even if it’s freezing outside. The smoke is warm, and your legs are shaking.

“I just don’t want to lose you.”

Boothill turns his head and stares out the window. The stars are bright out here away from the city. It reminds him of home. None of that awful light pollution back there in that boring old planet that he loved to death.

If he could’ve, he would’ve taken you there.

That place doesn’t exist anymore.

He feels you would’ve loved his daughter. He feels she would’ve loved you a lot more.

“You ain’t gon’ lose me,” he whispers. He’s still not looking at you. He’s not sure if he’s lying, but he knows he wouldn't lie on purpose. Not to you. Not now.

He squeezes your thigh reassuringly. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Boothill hears the sound of your seatbelt unbuckling, and a shaky exhale follows.

Maybe you’re drunk out of your mind, and his breath stinks of tobacco, and it’s awful on your tongue, but you leap over the centre console of the car as best you can and hurriedly press your lips to his.

It hurts, and it makes him dizzy, and you feel like you’re floating, but he reciprocates, pressing further against your mouth. Your teeth clink, it’s messy, it’s awful, but it satisfies a burning in your stomach.

You snatch his hat and toss it in the back seat. His nose is cold, and it smushes against your cheekbone.

It lasts too long, and not long enough, for after a moment, he pulls his hands off your hips grabs your chin gently to push you off him.

You try to fuse your skin with his. Your stomach presses to his. Boothill’s eye softens and a grin grows on his lips when you sigh in defeat.

He laughs gently. “Easy, beautiful. I know you’re drunk as fudge.” He instead moves your head to his chest and pulls you gently into him. “Just sleep it off. You’re g’nna have the worst hangover in the mornin’.”

You hum and shift in his lap.

It falls silent for a moment.

“You’re so uncomfortable,” you murmur.

Boothill chuckles louder and blows a teasing cloud of smoke on the top of your head that you frantically wave away. He stares out the window again, and all the while, his free hand gently pets the top of your hair. He’s mindful that his joints can very well tangle easily.

“I bet,” he answers.

You murmur something he doesn't hear. Despite your complaints, you still fall asleep on his chest before you feel him lean down and his lips press to your hair.

[cupcakeslushie]

Hey guys! Just wanted to give a life update. I’m trying to plan with a friend to do a local market on March 9th, so things might be a little slow for a while. And I also discovered I have to move in a couple months, so now I’ve gotta go apartment hunting. I am not too happy about this fact :/ lol

I was hoping to get a lot of drawing done during the previously mentioned 3 day, at home EEG, which I had to do this week, but it ended up being a lot more….distracting and cumbersome, than I’d thought, and sadly I didn’t get much accomplished. (Basically for four days it felt like fire ants were living on my head and it was insanely hard to concentrate. And I could only get up, and be disconnected from the bundle of wires for like 20 min at a time)

Febuwhump has taken a big backseat. I might put out a few more pieces before the end, but I’ve got a lot on my plate with this market so I’m not stressing about it anymore. So if you don’t see me posting at my usual level during the next two weeks please don’t panic! I haven’t “left” or “abandoned” the fandom or anything. Im still plotting out the next updates for EW, Feral Leo, and Brainworm Donnie.

Also if you’ve sent me anything for the TMNT AU competition, please know I’ve seen it, and would love to reply but it may be awhile. We might have to eventually do a bunch in big batches, but I love everything I’ve been sent! And please don’t feel like this is me saying I don’t want you to send me stuff, just be aware I might not get to it immediately!

I’m not gonna be disappearing completely during this time, but I think I’ll only be able to post little sketches and smaller scale stuff for a few weeks. Bigger updates will have to wait, and be worked on when I’m done with the market.

So that’s the skinny, for now!

💚💚💚

[shesmore-shoebill]

braindump of additional smosh vs zombies thoughts after the final episode:

In general, @ the players. Everyone did SO fucking good, okay. All of them I think hit a perfect blend of committing to the characters, trying to make smart choices, but also not getting so attached to keeping their characters alive that they weren't willing to take big swings. Shayne, whose character died TWICE. Was definitely not too precious about keeping his character alive, but like. WOW Courtney Amanda and Spencer all really were unafraid to both try to give their characters growth and change while still leaning into character-appropriate moves.

Amanda especially did such a good fucking job of like. Making big swings that made sense. As Gracie's worms progressed, Amanda actively gave Gracie character growth and depth even while committing to the comedy and horror of the worm infections. Shes so unafraid of committing to the character both comedically and narratively, its a fucking gift.

And of course, Brodie's character being hilarious until the very end coupled with the sacrifice.....

It was VERY satisfying to see Savannah full of (justified) rage throughout the last episode. Aware that she's not being treated well, aware that she's saving everyone's asses and is hands down the most capable person there. And ANGRY about it.

But even when she is angry. She is loyal. She sees a worm under Gracie's skin and- walks away, but doesn't leave, doesn't reveal it. She recieves the key and rages about being left- but still chooses to go after her. She's furious, but still, goes to the research area to get Gracie the cure. She is furuous, she knows she deserves better, she knows how capable she is now. And still she chooses. Gracie. And if that's not wildly codependent pretty toxic vaguely homoerotic gay girlie bffism idk what is.

Also Savannah fucking COOL AS SHIT in this episode. Hello. Action hero shit. Evades the blue worms. Gets the cures. Cures HERSELF. Queen shit.

Gracie's aggressive dedication to her father was obvs played up for comedy but can be so compelling if taken seriously. She doesn't even know how to conceptualize disagreeing with him. She's sure he'll keep her safe and to an extent she's RIGHT. He will. But only her. And in this world that means something different. Unquestioningly trusting him, unquestionably listening to him means something more. Her father asks her to kill Brodie and she basically does. Because she loves Brodie but loves her father more.

(And then they get there, and her father asks her to get rid of Savannah and Gracie doesn't. She doesn't want to.

Actually that alone has me unwell, Gracie tries to kill Brodie at her dad's request and then draws the line at Savannah. yk? yk? yk?)

Its so compelling to have Gracie as a character understand empathy and sacrifice and start unlearning her selfishness in the same moments that she is being devoured by worms and losing her control and humanity. Its VERY compelling. She is finally trying to look inward a bit, and its when being devoured from the inside out. The scene of her in the bathroom, turned away from Brodie, telling him to leave while half her face writhes with worms. She is trying to be better and probably won't survive long enough to actually do it.

Its also very comedic of like. She got some worms that ate her brain a little bit and not only is she not that much worse off, shes actually better as a person. Character development brainworms. Its kind of hilarious.

Brodie's fascination with and love for and dedication to Gracie despite her being terrible to him generally and their relationship being so new was both hilarious and touching in the way of classic horror/apocalypse/action movies. He's at the top of the bunker going "Well i gotta go get my gf!!!!" and its toxic and hilarious and like. vaguely sweet in the tropey movie way. Same thing with the love confession. And same thing with the heroic sacrifice. It was ridiculous, hilarious, dramatic, sincere, and deeply genre-appropriate. Fantastic way to play a romance in this genre with character who are generally pretty unpleasant and are only getting an ounce of growth in, truly, the 11th hour.

And honestly I was obsessed with the dynamic at the end. It was really "Gracie, her boyfriend Brodie, and Gracie's Savannah". No questions about it. It didnt even feel like Savannah would have been thirdwheeling it was just . Of course. Brodie loves Gracie. Gracie loves Brodie. Savannah loves/is devoted to Gracie, until the end. Gracie loves/is dependent on Savannah. Until the end. Obsessed with this. Obsessed.

Gracie saying to Savannah: "thank you for saving my life." Savannah saying: "Anytime." wow.

I probably need to write a separate post about Savannah/Gracie if I want to take their dynamic seriously actually. Its so compelling.

Savannah and Gracie in a nearly-empty shuttle shooting towards the moon together while Earth succumbs to manmade worm apocalypse is not a happy ending, but it also felt so right for both the genre and these trashfires of protagonists. They were all a little self absorbed and rash and foolish. Going to the moon doesn't actually solve any of the issues. The world is still dying by worm. Gracie's father is furious. I don't think Savannah or Gracie know how to fly a ship, much less survive on one? Or the moon. They're probably fucked.

But in this kind of scenario that's as good of an ending as youll get. And if nothing else, wow what a win for codependent toxic yuri-ism. Gracie finally realizing how valuable Savannah is, how much she loves her friends and how valuable it is that they love her- loved her. Savannah coming into her own confidence and still choosing Gracie as her priority- but consciously making that choice. Alone in a shuttle to the moon while the world dies. fucked up. very fun. veeery fun.

[yujateaandpi]

Hi! Internet stranger here!

Thank you so much for making this gravity falls comic. I've been having a rough couple of weeks, and seeing a new page has been uploaded every few days has really been what's keeping me going.

I have no idea how you're churning out these pages so fast! We readers love the timeliness, but we also want you to make sure you're not straining yourself, remember to take breaks and drink plenty of water :)

Thanks for the awesome creations and a comfort read <3

Sending you a sibling hug! I'm sorry to hear that you've been having some rough patches. It's gnarly out there, and the world is sometimes too hard on us. I'm grateful to hear that my sad story's been cheering you up, haha! Please take care of yourself and I hope life makes a sunshiny comeback for you soon.

LOL tbh I'm zooming through now because in about a year (IF ALL GOES WELL I REPEAT IF ALL GOES WELL) I will be venturing into Doctor School, where Free Time is an extinct species. After that is Residency, then Real Doctoring, then Life I suppose! I actually do not know if I will ever have the time to do a project on this scale again (maybe not until I'm old and retired hahaha), so I'm trying to cherish these particular fandom brainworms and create as much as I can humanly make now. I'm in a rare pocket of time in the application process where all my stuff is in The Void awaiting judgement (also called PLEASE TAKE ME Purgatory). So while I have some downtime (between like. A gazillion other passion projects) I am churning like an Amish butter maiden. Hey, if this blessed site is still up in thirty years, maybe I'll make a sequel LOL!

[goosewriting]

Across the Galaxy and Beyond

summary: some time after the Mantis crew split apart, Cal has an unexpected reunion with reader on Koboh

relationship: Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for Jedi Survivor, vague-ish mention of events from the Battle Scars book but i don't think it counts as a spoiler, hurt & comfort, flashbacks, kissing

word count: 8.9k 👀💧 ...i am unwell about this man what can i say

A/N: started writing this when i first started jedi survivor, and finally got around to finishing it now that i finished reading battle scars and the cal kestis brainworms are attacking me again. story doesn't follow the game exactly. also this could be read as a separate story from my wherever you go, i go trilogy, but i like to think it's the same reader and timeline lol so go read that if you haven't c:

Navigation: Part 1 (you’re here!) | Part 2 (wip)

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

— — — Part 1: Just like old times

After Cal's escape from Coruscant, the Mantis was pretty shredded. The main problem was the gyro, but upon entering Koboh's atmosphere, all systems started failing and the Jedi had to make an emergency landing somewhere on some cliffs. 

It took a lot of climbing and wall-jumping and fighting the aggressive local fauna, but after a couple of hours, Cal and BD finally made it to the outpost where Greez' cantina was located. On the way there he also encountered bandits who called themselves the Bedlam Raiders, as well as old Separatists battleships and battle droids, of all things. Just what has Greez got himself into?, Cal thinks to himself after saving a local from Rayvis, the leader of the Raiders, and outing himself as a Jedi in the process.

When Cal and BD finally enter Pyloon's Saloon, they meet with Greez. Since the Raiders have just been at the saloon (and the place doesn't look all too inviting either), there are no customers, so Cal and Greez catch up at the bar. The Latero is extremely happy to see the boy and his droid in one piece after all this time. Over a drink, the redhead tells him about the last job on Coruscant gone wrong, how only two of them made it out. He expresses his frustration, how the Empire is only growing stronger and everything he does feels pointless. Things haven't been easy since the Mantis crew split up. 

After catching up a little, Greez tells Cal that he has some spare parts and will take care of the ship. He'll send someone to bring the ship to the landing dock behind the saloon. In the meantime, he should take a breather and explore the outpost. Cal doesn't like feeling like he's wasting time, but with the state the Mantis is in, there really isn't much else he can do. 

The Latero shows him the room in the basement, telling Cal he can stay as long as he needs. Greez wasn't kidding when he said he had a room just for Cal: there was a meditation area in the middle of the round room, and even his old clothes and some unfinished tech projects were all stashed away in a big chest. 

They both sit down on the edge of the bed, and it doesn't take long for the conversation to take a direction Cal doesn't like. Not because what Greez is saying is wrong; on the contrary, he's probably right, but the redhead doesn't want to hear it. Not right now. Greez, in a genuinely concerned tone, goes on about how the game is rigged and Cal should walk away while he can, maybe even settle down somewhere. Cal lashes out for a moment, claiming someone has to keep fighting.

— — —

You approach the stable in the outpost riding on your nekko, humming a happy tune to yourself. You're lost in thought, letting your trusty mount walk the last stretch to the stalls by himself, as he knew the way. Once you reach the structure, you get off and start putting away your haul; you just came from a successful hunt. You'd skin and prepare everything later though, so you pack the preys away in special boxes where everything would be preserved for a couple of days. 

“Hello master,” a robotic yet chirpy voice greets you. 

You turn around with a smile, facing the Separatist battle droid you had found and reprogrammed to help you out at the stable.

“Hey there, Connor,” you greet back. You've told him several times not to call you that, but he insisted, saying you saved him and now his purpose was to serve you. You take a moment to inspect his blue and black markings that have started chipping more noticeably; maybe it's time for a new paint job.

“Did I miss anything while I was gone?” you ask, taking the saddle off your nekko and placing it onto the designated wooden beam. 

“Yes, in fact,” Connor replies, placing new food and clean water in the trough. “There's a ship on the landing pad behind the saloon that I've never seen before.”

“Is that so? What kinda ship?” 

“A modified S-161 Stinger, and it's pretty busted up. I'm surprised it even made it this far.”

You stop in your tracks, your grip tightening around the halter you just took off the nekko, which is now happily munching away on its fresh feed.

“Interesting,” you remark, putting the rest of the equipment away and turning around to face the droid. Since you spent most of the day down in some caves, you didn't see or hear anything. “Do you know who was on board?”

“I didn't see who came off the ship, but I overheard some prospectors talk about a newcomer that went one on one with Rayvis,” Connor comments, then leans in closer to you, looking around as if to make sure no one would be listening in on your conversations, when it's clearly just the two of you at the stable. “I also heard Turgle mentioning a Jedi being seen around here.”

“Huh,” is all you manage to say, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. There was no way he was here, right? After all this time? As far as you know, he doesn't even know you're here. So if it is him, he isn't here to see you, but Greez instead. It's probably because of the Mantis; Cal is in need of repairs. This thought immediately replaces the initial anticipation with a strange, cold feeling. 

“Can you believe it?” Connor goes on. “I've never even seen a Jedi. I would love to meet them.”

You take a long look at the droid, remembering the state you had found him in. He had never been in the war, actually. He spent several years in an abandoned Separatist camp, never even getting to be activated. So he only knew his programming: serve the Separatists, fight the clones and kill the Jedi. Yet he had never lived any of it. Reprogramming him had been easy in that regard, as his memory banks were mostly blank. Back then you were looking for a droid companion to help you out at the stables, and even though you know what battle droids mean to the Jedi, you can't help but think that they are kinda cute. The B1 models, at least. The B2 series and commandos are pretty scary. 

So you gave your new friend a name (you couldn't decide between Hank and Connor, but decided to go with the latter as it somehow suited his demeanour better) and a new purpose in life, and he seems content with that. The only fighting program you left in him is for defending the stable and nekkos. First and foremost it is his mission that they are not harmed. You also ordered him not to leave the outpost, for his own safety. You don't want the raiders to find him and get access to his memory bank. They would use the information against all of you at the outpost, and either scrap him or reprogram him to join the raiders. Once they were dealt with, however, you promised Connor you would take him around Koboh first, then show him the galaxy. 

“I'm going to the saloon,” you announce. “Can you take care of the rest?” 

“Roger roger!” Connor replies with a salute, getting to work. 

You find yourself smoothing out your clothes and hair as you make the short trip to the saloon. When you reach the bar you're met with Monk, the witty bartender droid. He greets you with a happy tone and some strange phrase that you don't entirely understand, as he always does. You ask for Greez, and he points towards the door to the side, saying he's in the basement with some old friend of his that just dropped by.

With a gulp and a forced smile, you thank him and head down the stairs. The urge to turn on your heel and run away grows with every step. As you're about to reach the door, you hear voices coming from the other side.

“-to be something more than a lightsaber.” That's Greez, you think. He sounds… sad? “Think of yourself. Settle down, find a home.”

“What home, Greez?” You swear your heart actually stops beating and accelerates at the same time when you hear the voice, his voice. “There is no home. Home was the Order. It was my teacher.”

You've stopped a couple steps away from the door so it wouldn't open and have you interrupt the conversation, but you involuntarily lean forward to hear better what Cal says next.

“It was everyone I lost… Home was the Mantis with you, Cere, Merrin, and–”

The automatic door whooshes open and Cal and Greez turn their heads towards you as they stand up from the bed they were sitting on. 

“I- I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” you sheepishly state after a moment of uncomfortable silence from everyone, approaching him but staying at a distance. “Hey, Cal. It's been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” he retorts, and you can't really read the tone of his voice. 

You look each other up and down, taking in how different you both look since… Since the last time you saw each other. Since you split up. 

A thousand thoughts go through your head, and a thousand different feelings resurface, making your heart tighten in your chest, like there isn't enough space for everything it's trying to process.

Greez can't take the tension anymore, so he clears his throat loudly.

“Lemme show you something, Cal,” the Latero says as he walks towards a panel on the far side of the room. He presses a couple of buttons and a section of the wall slides open with a creak, revealing a path behind it. “This is an old smuggler's tunnel, you'll find spare parts in there. Just… be careful, I have a pest problem.”

With that, Greez walks by both of you, giving your arm an encouraging pat, before leaving the room. It's just you and Cal now.

“Spare parts?” you ask, trying to make some conversation. “For the Mantis, I take it?”

“Yeah,” Cal replies, looking at the tunnel entrance but not moving from where he stands. “Gyro's fried.”

You two stand there in silence, and you want to smack yourself in the face. You feel like an awkward 12-year-old all over again, not knowing how to talk to your cr– You stop your train of thought before you dare finish that sentence and potentially embarrass yourself further. The heat on your cheeks that refuses to leave your face since you've laid eyes on the Jedi can't possibly have gone unnoticed by him.

“You know, Greez has had this room set up for you for quite a while,” you tell Cal, shooting him a quick smile. “So I take it you'll be staying for a while, right? The Mantis isn't going anywhere.”

Cal shrugs and shoots you a quick, unsure glance, then casts his eyes back down, scratching the back of his neck. 

“I was just about to head out,” you lie. Your plan for the evening was to have a drink at the bar and unwind, but him being here changes everything. “You could join me and I'll show you around if you'd like…”

Cal looks at the tunnel again, weighing the options in his mind. One is going down there to fix the Mantis as soon as possible, then taking off to who knows where. The other… you're not so sure. And if you're being honest with yourself, you're too scared to ask.

“Sure, why not,” he finally agrees with a sigh and starts walking towards the door that directly leads outside from the basement, but you feel like something, or rather someone, is missing. You look around the room, scanning your surroundings for a certain droid, then turn back to Cal.

“W-Where's BD?” you ask, fearing the worst. You'd really hate it if something happened to him.

“Oh, he wandered off somewhere earlier,” Cal says and you release a breath of relief. After calling for him, the little droid comes hopping down the stairs and into the room.

“BD!” you greet the little companion, and he excitedly beeps at your reunion. He comes running towards you and you pick him up in a hug.

“Oh, how I've missed you,” you spin him around a couple of times, then set him back down onto the floor. “I have a droid of my own now, but you're still the cutest. Don't tell him, though,” you add with a wink. 

“You have a droid?” Cal asks as BD climbs onto his back and you all make your way out.

“Yeah, he helps me out at the stable,” you explain, pointing at the building as you reach the end of the stairs. The stable is practically behind the saloon. From these stairs it's a very short trek to reach the paddocks.

“Those are nekkos, right?” Cal questions, approaching the fence and looking at the two animals chilling in the sun. “I met Mosey earlier. She said she worked at the stable,” he turns around to look at you. “But she didn't mention you.”

You're about to retort by saying she couldn't have possibly known that you two knew each other, but you're interrupted by a chirpy voice.

“Master! You're back already?” 

At the sound of the familiar robotic voice, Cal instinctively draws his lightsaber, and turns towards the side entrance to the stable. You hurry to get between your droid and the Jedi; you don't want to see Connor get sliced today. Not by him. Said droid peeks out from behind the archway, and BD beeps repeatedly, alarmed. 

“Wait!” you exclaim, holding your hands up into the air defensively. “That's my droid!” 

“Your- Your droid?” Cal repeats, clearly confused. He puts away his weapon nonetheless.

“He's reprogrammed, and he's never even been in the war,” you explain, walking backwards as Cal starts approaching the stable to inspect the battle droid further, with you still between them. “He was never even activated. He's good, I promise!” 

“Master, who's this?” Connor asks, walking back into the stable to make room for Cal and you. “Is he bothering you?” The droid activates the blaster you had built into one of his arms, and Cal's hand goes to the hilt of his sabre again, while BD beeps in exasperation. 

“No, stand down!” you order, and the blaster immediately turns off with a whirr. “Will everyone please calm down?”

Still standing between Cal and the battle droid, you let out a huff, looking from one to the other. 

“Cal, BD; this is Connor, my droid,” you start introducing them. “My good and reprogrammed droid, whose mission is to protect the stable and the nekkos, nothing more.”

Cal seems unimpressed, still looking at Connor with narrowed eyes. You turn to the droid.

“Connor; these are Cal and BD,” you start. “And you know what? Cal here–” You look at Connor with raised brows and lower your voice. “–is a Jedi.”

Connor brings his hands up to where his mouth would be, gasping in surprise. 

“You- You are?” he asks, quickly going around you to take Cal's hand and shaking it vigorously. “It's such an honour! I've always wanted to meet a Jedi!”

“So you could get up all close and stab me in the back?” Cal retorts, his voice laced with uncharacteristic venom, and pulls his hand from the droid's grasp.

“What? No, I–” Connor starts but you push him to the side a bit.

“It's okay, Connor. He'll warm up to you, eventually,” you comfort him. “Please go get the nekkos ready for us?” 

You've never heard a sadder 'roger roger' in your life and it sends a sting of pain through your chest. 

While the droid goes to prepare your mounts, you turn around to Cal and frown at him. He crosses his arms in front of his chest defensively. 

“Why would you say something like that? He's genuinely excited to meet you,” you explain. “When was the last time someone was actually happy to see a Jedi, hm?”

“Not a battle droid, that's for sure,” Cal retorts with a huff. 

You look up at him for a moment, holding his rather cold gaze. You wonder just what happened these past few years that had him like this. Sure, you understand why he isn't a fan of battle droids. Normally you aren't either. But there's just something about Cal that's… different. He looks older, but it might just be the beard. He also looks more tired, carries himself differently. With confidence like he always did, but also in a “don't mess with me” way that wasn't there before. Gone is the spark in his eyes, that glimmer of optimism and hope, replaced by the promise of not holding back if anyone were to cross him. 

For several moments, you just look at each other, and you're sure he's analysing you just as you are him, and you wonder what is going through his head. 

“The nekkos are ready,” Connor announces, leading both of them out of their respective stalls by the reins. 

You allow the animals to sniff Cal and inspect him, while you give a short explanation on how to ride and guide them. Cal's mount is white with a dark face and legs, while yours is a dark purple and brown. After thanking Connor and waving him goodbye, you both hop onto the saddle and head out of the outpost. You know your way around, taking a route that would keep you hidden from the patrols, both the imperial ones as well as the raiders. You'd much rather deal with the local fauna. And you do come across a couple of rawkas at the river, and a pack of gorgers when heading further up the Southern Reach. But you two make quick work of them.

In fact, Cal has grown stronger, and not only that, but he also has a new array of weapons it seems; now he double-wields his lightsabers, and he also has a blaster, which completely takes you by surprise. 

Once you reach the base of the big silo, you get off your nekkos and climb the rest by foot, getting on top of the structure and sitting at the edge. It's not a super well-hidden spot; if the patrols under you decide to look up they would definitely see you, but it's a good vantage point to show Cal the different places. You point towards the landmarks, explaining them to him so he can orient himself and navigate beyond the outpost. You tell him about the caverns, the mines, to look out for different patrols and what areas to avoid; be it because of the raiders, like fort Kha'lin, or because of bigger fauna like bilemaws, goroccos and mogus. Especially mogus. They are fierce.

Once you're done with your explanation, you lean back onto your hands with a sigh. Cal attentively listened to everything, but he doesn't seem interested in keeping the conversation going, as he hasn't said anything.

He's looking out, scanning this corner of Koboh as far as he could see from here, taking in the view and probably trying to commit to memory everything you've said. You look at him from the corner of your eyes, your gaze falling onto the holster on his hip.

“So,” you try starting the conversation again. “You now double-wield and you have a blaster. Which, by the way, is pretty uncharacteristic for a Jedi, no?”

“A lot has changed, I guess,” is all you get out of him.

“Do you have any other new tricks?” you ask, and the memory of him re-discovering his Master's lessons after his escape from Bracca comes back to you, making you smile fondly to yourself for a moment. 

“Hmm,” Cal thinks aloud, also leaning back and finally tearing his eyes from the landscape to look at you. “There aren't any new Force-tricks, if that's what you mean. But I do have this.”

He brings one of his arms up, showing you the contraption on his brace.

“Grappling hook. Comes in pretty handy,” he explains, showing you some of the mechanisms. Your hands reach up to gently hold his wrist, so you can inspect the device better, and you could have sworn you heard his breath hitch at the contact. At that moment, you realise that's the first physical interaction you've had since he arrived, and you quickly let go. 

“We should head back,” you say as you stand up, dusting off your legs. “It will get dark soon, plus you must be hungry. I know I am.”

“Yeah, I could eat,” Cal replies, getting up to his feet as well, and BD beeps in agreement.

Cal climbs down the silo first, while you scan the area one last time for any patrols. When it's your turn, just as you're almost at the base of the rather unstable ladder, your foot slips and you lose your balance. You hold onto the next best thing, which happens to be Cal. Seeing you're about to fall, his arm reaches around you and he pulls you towards him while with the other hand he tightly holds onto the railing that goes along the walls of the structure. 

“You okay?” he asks, and when you look up at him this time, you're finally met with a pair of eyes that you recognise. There's concern in his gaze but also a certain warmth, amused at how you were a fierce warrior yet managed to be clumsy in small things like these. He found it cute, which you knew for a fact because he would tell you often, back then…

“Y-Yeah, thanks,” you mutter, separating yourself from him now that you're back safe on the ground. Feeling the heat spreading on your face, you can't help a sheepish smile. “Guess some things never change, heh.”

“Guess not,” Cal says with a small smile of his own, and your chest tightens at the sight. 

The ride back to the Outpost is silent, and you wonder if his body is also reacting as strongly as yours; ever since slipping, your skin feels like it's tingling, and your heart hasn't calmed down in the slightest. 

Once you're back at the stable and the nekkos have been taken care of, Connor mentions that Greez left some food for you, and hands you several small containers wrapped with a cloth. 

“You wanna eat at my place?” you find yourself asking Cal, who's scratching behind the nekko's ear. He turns around to you with raised eyebrows in what you assume to be a surprised expression, but he's quick to relax his face back to normal. 

“I have a room behind Doma's shop,” you explain, holding up the food in your hands and you gesture to it with your chin. “And Greez knows this is far too much food for myself.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Cal replies, calling BD back to him, who was scanning some stable equipment. “Let me help you with that.”

Cal takes the food off your hands, and you say your goodbyes to Connor, who stays at the stable. It's a quick trip past the saloon's entrance into Doma's shop. She's behind the counter organising some of her merchandise, and returns your “hello” from afar without looking. Only when she hears Cal's greeting does she turn around. She shoots you a look and you know exactly what she means, heat prickling again at your cheeks. You give a curt shake of your head, quickening the pace to evade Doma's questioning, heading for the door at the back that leads to the place you have been calling home for the last year. 

It isn't much, but it makes do: one big room, that's both kitchen and a living space, with two doors at the far side that lead to a small bedroom and the refresher. The main room is decorated, you like to think it's warm, cosy and inviting. You even managed to thrift an old couch somewhere, refurbished it yourself, and it now essentially serves as the centrepiece of the room. There are several rugs on the floor, as well as piles of pelts and leather in the corner that you still have to finish working on so you could sell them. These days that's your main source of income.

Cal stands at the door for a moment, taking everything in, and you suddenly feel very self-conscious. The space is clean, but the fact that you can't read his face makes you a little nervous. To distract yourself, you take the food from him, bringing it to the kitchen counter.

“I think the food is still warm,” you say as you start opening the containers, the delicious smell filling both your noses. “Do you mind setting the table?”

Cal and you make quick work of getting everything plated and grabbing some drinks, then sitting down in front of each other at the wooden table to eat. You make some light conversation between bites, catching each other up on what has been going on in your lives recently. He tells you about some of the missions he's been on ever since the Mantis crew split up, and you tell him of your own solo adventures before you came to Koboh. 

When the plates are empty, your bellies full, and the conversation is about to die down, you ask if you can check out Cal's lightsabre. He unclips it from his belt to hand it to you, and you catch yourself being relieved at the fact he still trusts you enough to just give his sacred weapon to you without further inquiry. 

He's changed some parts and the materials, and you hold the device in your hands with the utmost care, admiring the beautiful design and intricate markings on the wooden accents. Rather suddenly, a feeling of regret and shame spreads out in your chest, thinking about how not only this sabre but also Cal himself went through so many changes, and you hadn't been there for any of it. There's so much you want to tell him, about how sad you are that you weren't there for him, about how sorry you are with the way you left, about how you've been thinking of and missing him every single day. But telling him that wouldn't be fair. You have no right to be selfish like that.

“So what exactly happened that got the Mantis in such a state?” you decide to ask instead, reaching the lightsabre over the table to give it back. Cal takes it with a deep sigh, putting it back to his belt, feeling immediately comforted by its familiar weight. 

“A job on Coruscant that went… wrong,” he starts, telling you how his team was gathering intel for Saw Guerrera, and it had all worked out until the very last moment, where everything went wrong, and he lost his whole crew in an instant. Only him and another person made it out of there. In fact, one of his crew members saved his life by pushing him out of the way and taking the blaster shot herself instead. 

You listen intently, and your heart grows heavier by the second; you can hear the frustration in his voice, the voice of a man who's this close to giving up entirely, because he's just so tired, but he can't. He won't. You know Cal took it upon himself to fight the Empire by himself if he has to. A trait you genuinely admire but also despise. After all, that was one of the reasons you left.

Then he mentions the Ninth Sister, and your attention is fully back to what he's saying. 

“I tried to get through to her, I really did,” Cal says, his voice cracking for a second. “But she wouldn't let up. I had no choice.”

“Did you…?” you ask carefully.

“I killed her,” he says matter-of-factly, but you can tell it's been eating away at him.

“I'm so sorry, Cal,” you offer, reaching across the table and placing your hand on his. “That couldn't have been easy. I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

He doesn't meet your eyes, his gaze fixed on his half empty cup instead, watching the drops of condensation slowly fall along the outside of the glass onto the table, staining the wood. But he doesn't pull away either, so you give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You look exhausted,” you finally tell him, and he lets out a breath through his nose, as if saying 'you have no idea'. You offer for him to take a shower here instead of at the saloon before heading back, telling him yours is nicer, to which he chuckles lightly, and he accepts. 

He insists you take a shower first while he takes care of the dishes, so you do just that. Once you're out, it's his turn. You hand him a towel and a change of clean clothes, and you can tell he wonders why you have them in his size, until he realises that they're actually his. It's an old shirt and lounge pants that you would always steal from him and had apparently taken with you. He doesn't comment on it though, instead he simply stares at the clothes in his hand for maybe a second too long, deep in thought. Then he blinks a couple of times, as if he just came back from zoning out, gives you a short 'thanks' and gets into the shower. 

While he cleans up, you take a seat on the couch, pulling up the novel you're currently reading on your holopad. Only now that you're sitting with your legs stretched out along the length of the cushions do you realise how tired you are, both physically and emotionally. Out of everything you could have thought would happen today, meeting Cal was certainly not on the list. Still, you can't deny that you're happy to see him. For starters, he's still alive. And you've missed him, much more than you care to admit to yourself. 

After reading the same sentence of your book over and over, failing to focus, you sigh and look at BD instead, who hops onto the coffee table and tilts his head at you with an inquiring beep. 

“Has he been taking care of himself?” you ask the droid, pointing over your shoulder in the direction of the refresher, where you can hear the water running.

BD lets out a sequence of beeps and boops, and you narrow your eyes at him for a moment. 'He keeps himself busy' he said. Is he dodging your question?

“Is that so,” you reply with a hum, and BD shoots the question right back at you. You're a bit surprised at his concern, and for a moment you consider opening up to the little droid, but you hear the water turn off, so you bring your attention back to your book again instead, trying your darndest to focus on what's happening in the story. The washroom door opens with a whoosh.

“Where should I put the towel?” Cal asks, still standing at the door frame. 

“Just put it in the hamper underneath the sink,” you reply over your shoulder, and in the corner of your eye you can see BD still looking at you, waiting for an answer. Then he tilts his head with an amused boop; he's got you all figured out. 

“Oh shush you,” you start scolding the little droid, but Cal appears, walking around the couch to sit down. Except that your legs are stretched across it, so you start lifting them off the cushions and intend to bend them at the knee to sit properly, but Cal gently grabs your ankles, lifting them off the couch to sit down, and places them over his lap instead. His hand comes to rest on your shin, and you can feel the warmth he irradiates seep through the fabric of your pants. 

“You looked comfy,” he points out, his hand gently rubbing up and down below your knee, while with his other hand he props up his head against the back of the couch. 

You swallow hard, unable to answer, and bring the datapad up to your face to hide behind it. Why is he being so nice suddenly? Is it because you aren't outside where others could see? Or is it because he realised he still has you wrapped around his finger so he's just teasing you? You're beyond confused at the sudden sign of affection after he's been so distant the whole day, like he hadn't planned on ever seeing you again. And to be quite honest, you deserve the cold treatment. After what you did, the way you left. 

Feeling the sting behind your eyes, knowing what's coming, you shrink further into yourself, holding the holopad even closer to your face to hide it from Cal's view. He can't see your expression from where he's sitting, so he gives a light chuckle, thinking you're just flustered. The sound feels like a dagger in your gut, and you unsuccessfully choke back sob.

Now Cal's face changes completely to one of concern, and he pushes the pad out of the way only to be met with your crying face. 

“Whoa, wait-“ Cal says, and he retrieves his hands, holding them both up in surrender. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I thought we-“

“I'm so sorry, Cal,” you croak, crying freely now, as you let go of the device and it falls onto the floor with a 'clunk'. “I'm so sorry for everything, for what I did. For leaving you alone.” Your hands wipe away at your cheeks in a vain attempt to dry off the tears, but they just keep coming. 

After the crew split up, the Mantis felt unbearably empty. After the failed mission on Hosnian Prime, after saying goodbye to Fret and Irei, who had definitely changed the dynamics of the crew (you still weren't sure if it had been for better or worse), everything felt like it started falling apart. 

The first to leave was Merrin, saying she needed to recentre her fire and find herself again, to be able to draw all the power she now knew she was able to use. 

Then, it was Cere and Greez. The Latero trusted Cal and left his beloved ship in his hands, telling him to look after it until he'd be back. Except everyone knew that he didn't really intend to. The loss of his arm had hit him harder than he wanted to admit, and for Greez it had been the wake-up call needed to “leave the game while you can because it's been rigged since the start”, as he would often say. Cere on the other hand took off with new-found determination. Her and Cal's goals weren't all that different: the endgame was to defeat the Empire, one way or another. However, Cal believed in taking action now, while Cere had her sights set on the future, being able to help those who would come next, long after she and everyone else were gone. She wanted to build a legacy, as the 'Jedi's knowledge was far too valuable to be lost to time and circumstance. 

After everyone was gone, it was just Cal, BD and you. 

The Jedi had become irritable, like he had already convinced himself that you would leave him soon too, as did everyone, apparently. You reassured him to the best of your abilities that you believed in what he stood for and wanted to stay by his side. However, now that you didn't have a whole crew to count on, you had to be more careful than ever.

“We have to be smart about this!” you'd plead, seeing Cal running head-first into danger time and time again. 

When the nightmares became too much, you'd hold him tightly, kissing his tears away as he'd cry out for his master, Tapal.

“You were just a kid!” you had yelled at Cal one time, when what was supposed to be a quick run-down of the plan had become a big argument. “You act as if the whole universe is counting on you and only you to defeat the beast that is the Empire. Do you think that that's your destiny? As dictated by the Force? We've had our share of big, successful missions as a group. Now it's time to back down, Cal. We're just two people, what do you expect we'll achieve here? It's time to move on.”

Needless to say, those words had not calmed Cal down in the slightest. Now he felt just as betrayed by you as he did by the rest. More words were thrown at each other like daggers finally let free after being pushed back for far too long in an attempt to keep some level of normalcy between you two. But there was no going back. So you did what you told him as well: you moved on. That same evening, you packed your things and left. 

Your heart bled and tears kept streaking down your face with every heavy step you took away from the Mantis, but at the time, you didn't know what else to do. You'd never wanted to leave Cal, and you hated yourself for doing this to him and to yourself, but what you had going on was no way to live anymore. Maybe, hopefully, now that you were gone, he would understand that. 

You know it had been a horrible thing to do, especially like that. After years of telling him how you'd follow him to the end of the world. After telling him every day how much you loved him. After promising you'd be there for him. The worst part was that being away from him was far more painful than it was with him. He left a void in your heart that only he could fill. You meant to go looking for him many times, but were too scared. You didn't deserve to have him back. Not after what you did.

But now he's here.

Between cries, you apologise over and over again, saying how what you did wasn't fair, that you wished you had never left and worked it out instead, that you missed him so much it was hard to breathe. 

Cal doesn't answer immediately, and you force your somewhat blurry gaze up to meet his eyes, and you see he's starting to tear up himself. He leans forward, lifting you up and settling you sideways onto his lap, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. You hold him just as tightly, crying into his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” The more you say it, the emptier it feels, but it's all you can manage for now, and you mean it. “I really am.”

“I know,” Cal says, squeezing you a little tighter. “I felt it. When you gave me the clothes earlier.”

You remember the countless nights you've cried yourself to sleep in the very clothes he's now wearing, the times when you missed him so much you felt like your heart would rip its way right out of your chest, muttering your regrets into your pillow, as if it could carry your apology and bring it to Cal somehow. You groan in embarrassment; you always forget that your stuff also carries imprints he can feel.

“I'm so lame,” you mumble and pull back to look at Cal, giving him a weak smile that quickly turns into a grimace again as a new wave of tears come rolling down your cheeks.

“No, you're not,” Cal reassures you, one hand cupping your face and wiping over your cheekbone with his thumb. You lean into his touch with a sniffle.

“I've missed you too,” he finally says, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “And I'm sorry—” He kisses your cheek. “—for making you feel like you were less important than the missions.” A kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You're the best thing that ever happened to me and I took you for granted.” His lips brush over yours. “Can we try again?”

You close the minimal gap and kiss him hard, like Cal was the air your lungs needed after being underwater for too long. He reciprocates just as intensely, pushing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you. When he finally breaks the kiss, you're both panting. You run your fingers through his hair as he trails kisses along your jaw, and you giggle at how ticklish his beard feels against your skin; that's a new sensation you'd have to – no scratch that, want to – get used to. Your giggles turn into a low moan as he bites the spot over your collarbone, and when you turn your head to give him better access, you're met with BD still on the coffee table, now sitting comfortably, looking up at you two as if it was the most interesting spectacle in the world. 

A strangled sound of surprise and embarrassment comes from your throat and you push Cal away a bit by his shoulders, to which he raises his head and grumbles in annoyance for interrupting him.

“We have an audience,” you whine, hiding your face behind your hands, and Cal lets out an amused laugh. BD beeps matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean 'don't mind me'?!” You turn to the droid and you swear that if he had a face, he'd be wearing the cockiest of grins right now. 

“Some things really never change, huh,” Cal comments with an amused smile, thinking back to all the times you'd become flustered when you kissed in front of BD, saying it was inappropriate or something. If only you knew that Cal often did it on purpose because he loved seeing your cute, flustered face.

“Unlike this right here,” you point out and bring your hands to his face, stroking over his beard, enjoying the prickly sensation. “This is new.”

“Do you like it?” Cal asks genuinely.

“You know I like your scars,” you say, tracing over the one on his lower lip. “As long as they're not covered up, I think I can get used to it. It does look good on you.”

Cal smiles down at you tenderly and for a few moments, you simply enjoy each other's presence, taking each other in. Making sure that this is real and it's happening, that you're back again. Until you let out a hearty yawn. 

“Let's get to bed before we fall asleep on the couch,” you say, rubbing your face, but stop to look up at Cal, who seems very content with his current position and hasn't moved yet. “You are staying here tonight, right? I mean, if you want to, you don't have to. Greez has the whole room thing for you, so I understand if—“

Cal interrupts your rambling with a quick peck. 

“Yeah, I want to stay,” he assures you and finally stands up, helping you get off the couch. 

“Let's go, BD,” you tell the droid to join you as you take Cal's hand and guide them to the bedroom. 

You climb into bed, BD at your feet as he would always do on the Mantis, and Cal lifts the covers to get in as well but stops for a moment when he sees the holopicture on your night stand. In the small frame he recognises Greez, Cere, Merrin, Cal, BD and you in the cockpit, all grinning at the camera. Smiling to himself, he finally gets into bed, hugging you to him.

“I have the same picture of us on the Mantis,” he says after letting out a content sigh at finding a comfortable position. “Guess we still were connected somehow all this time.”

You hum in response, a bit surprised at the romantic implication, as if you were lovers who found comfort in looking at the same moon even though you were separated. But you like the idea nonetheless, and you agree. 

The warmth both on your skin and spreading in your heart makes quick work of carrying you off to dreamland though, so before you can even give a proper reply, you're fast asleep in Cal's arms.

— — —

The next morning, you wake up to BD's beeping. You groan, turning over to cuddle a little longer, except that the other side of your bed is empty. You blink away the sleepiness in your eyes, and pout at the lack of Jedi in your sheets. Your nose is quick to pick up the scent of freshly brewed caf however, and the grogginess is quickly forgotten as you get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen, where Cal is preparing breakfast. 

After a quick meal and lots of stolen kisses, Cal announces it's time to go check out Greez's smuggler tunnel to find that gyro. 

“Be careful,” is the last thing you tell him before he leaves. 

“Always,” he shoots back at you with a wink and takes off. You playfully roll your eyes at that, thinking back to the countless times on the Mantis you've had to patch him up after a mission inevitably went astray from the original plan.

While Cal is looking for parts for the Mantis, you go back to your own things, checking in on Connor and the nekkos at the stable, as well as preparing some pelts and sewing up your most recent leather project. 

Time goes by fast as you skilfully work the needle and thread through the thick material, finishing the piece after a couple of hours. Setting it aside, you stretch your arms and back with a satisfied grunt. You check to see if your comms are working; they are, but there's no new messages. Strange, you think, Cal sure is taking his time to find that gyro. Is he not back yet? 

Suddenly feeling uneasy by your own thoughts of how he might have got lost in the tunnels, or how he may have encountered trouble down there, you decide to go check with Greez yourself. 

You quickly make your way to the Saloon, going down the stairs that lead to the bar with such speed that when you reach the end and see someone standing there, you bump into them before you can stop yourself. 

“Whoa,” a deep voice exclaims at the impact, and you push yourself away from the man's back you just ran into. He turns around slightly towards you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, didn't see you there” you reply, regaining your composure and walking around him to get a better look. 

He's not super tall, but he has a strong and broad build. Although you already felt that when you bumped into him and it was like walking into a wall. You give him a quick up-and-down, trying to gauge if he's friend or foe, but you can't quite read him. He narrows his eyes at you ever so slightly, probably doing the same.

“A new face, how rare,” you start, walking over to the bar and leaning on it with one arm. Your other hand finds its way to your hip, where you realise there is no holster or weapon; you mentally reprimand yourself for leaving your staff at the stable. 

“Care for a drink?” asks Monk from behind you. 

“No, I'm looking for someone,” the man says. 

“Of course you are,” Monk replies with sarcasm. You give the bartender droid a nod; you'll take care of this. As he wheels back into the kitchen, you hear him mutter something about how his bar isn't a lost and found counter. Before the stranger can go on however, the doors at the back of the saloon whoosh open.

“Who's this?” asks Greez as he enters the main room.

“I was just about to ask him,” you reply, your eyes still trained on the man.

“I'm looking for Cal Kestis,” the man in question says instead, and your hand on the bar involuntarily curls into a fist.

“Who? Kal Restis?” Greez asks as he approaches him. “We don't know any Kales. Listen, if you're not gonna order something, get out of my saloon.”

“No, not Kale”, the man says, getting slightly exasperated as he repeats the name slower, and Greez keeps getting it wrong on purpose. 

Just as you're about to intervene and send the man away, the entrance doors open and in comes Cal, a soft smile of self-satisfaction on his face. 

“Cal!” The man greets the Jedi. You hear Greez mutter “Oh, this Cal Kestis” under his breath as they clearly recognise each other.  

“I found the gyro,” Cal announces first, throwing a small mechanical part to Greez, who's taken by surprise but still catches it. Then he turns to the intruder with a smile. “You made it!”

“Good to see you, Cal,” he replies, and the two share a friendly handshake.

“Greez Dritus, this is Bode Akuna,” Call starts introductions, telling this Bode your name as well. You merely give him a short nod in acknowledgment as Cal continues. “He was on Coruscant. Wouldn't have made it out alive without his help.”

Oh, that changes things. 

You leave your spot at the bar and drop your rather cold gaze to join the group. Coming to stand next to Cal, you take his hand, and try your best to give Bode a thankful smile. He returns it, quickly catching on. 

“Wait a minute. Another one?” Greez quips, looking behind Cal. You were so focused on Bode, that you hadn't even noticed the strange looking droid that came in with the redhead. “Cal, you have a very bad habit of picking up strays.”

“I am ZN-A4,” the droid introduces herself with an exaggerated bow. The design and material she’s made of is something you’ve never seen before. “Humble servant of the Jedi Order.”

What.

“Oh, I take it you haven't broken the news yet,” Bode says to Cal, who sheepishly shrugs his shoulders. 

Cal then brings everyone up to speed, telling you how when he was in the tunnels with BD, they stumbled upon this old chamber where the droid was stuck, so they freed her. Turns out she's a droid that belonged to a Jedi from the High Republic, of all things. Her master, Sandari, had sent her to activate the so-called forest array (that strange building the other side of the river that doesn't quite fit in with the rest of the scenery; you've always wondered what it was but never found a way to get in). However, Zee, as everyone started calling the droid, is in really bad shape, and she'll never make it that far. She looks dejected as she says that if she fails her mission, then the key to Tanalorr may be lost forever. 

At the mention of the name, Greez chimes in, telling the group that there's an old prospector legend about Tanalorr being a world filled with treasure. But treasure or not, the important part is that it seems to be a real place, one potentially beyond where the Empire can reach: a safe haven. 

Zee is delighted and very thankful that everyone seems on board with her mission, and the group is quick to formulate a plan: while Monk gets her up to speed regarding the state of, well, everything, and she gets some much-needed repairs, Bode and Greez will take care of the Mantis. Meanwhile, Cal, BD and you will go to the forest array to check it out. 

As you're making your way to the stables, you nudge into Cal's side with your elbow.

“You didn't get hurt down there or anything, right? You sure took your time,” you ask him. It did not go unnoticed by you how in Cal's retelling of events, he skilfully left out how he happened to find that mysterious chamber in the first place. 

“The tunnels were pretty old and unstable, but we're okay,” Cal deflects, shooting the droid a quick look. “Right BD?”

BD beeps in response, and you shoot Cal a glare accompanied by a muted gasp, stopping in your tracks.

“You fell through a hole the equivalent of several stories?!” You can't believe this guy. 

“It's fine!” Cal tries to reassure you, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. “I promise, it's nothing a stim didn't already fix. So there’s no need to worry, okay? We have a job to do.”

You sigh in defeat as he places a soft kiss on your forehead. You first cup his face softly, then pinch both his cheeks.

“Just what am I going to do with you, Cal Kestis?” you ask rhetorically, taking his hand into yours and resuming the short trek to where Connor is already waiting and waving at you both. 

Once you're all geared up and hop into the saddle, you tighten the strap of your staff, adjusting its position on your back.

“Just like old times, huh?” you ask at no one in particular, scanning your surroundings and taking in the scenery; it just never gets old. Cal's nekko trots up next to you.

“Just like old times,” he repeats, with that boyish smile you can't get enough of, and the glint of adventure in his eyes. 

Your nekkos take off, and the freckles on his face seem to shine in the sunlight. They form the ever familiar star map that you'd follow time and time again, finding your way back to him. Because from the first time you looked at him, you knew: you'd follow this man across the galaxy and beyond.

— — —

A/N 2: if you understand the droid name reference you get a cookie 🍪

A/N 3: in the book Battle Scars there’s a part where BD tells Cal, and i quote, “Where you go, I go”, and when i tell you that i screamed omg (the first part of my “wherever you go, i go” fic was actually called ‘where’ but i changed it to ‘wherever’ when i added more chapters because to me it sounded better asdsdf) BD-1 and me sharing one brain cell obsessed with Cal fr😌

~~~~~

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

[hisaacswrites]

See, Soap is a bartender. Well, he’s actually whatever his boss says he is while he gets used to civvie life again, but right now he’s a bartender. And before that, he was SAS. In both professions, being able to read people is invaluable. And even before that, Soap had always been good at getting a feel for people, at reading a room and seeing what’s underneath it all.

Which is why he’s been keeping an eye on the bar’s back booth. There’s a couple there. A bombshell of a woman and a hulking mountain of a man. For all intents and purposes, they look like the stereotypical lovesick couple who’ve had a bit too much to drink to understand the boundaries of acceptable PDA- The woman is draped across the man’s lap, her hands are wandering across and under, her lips working furiously over his skin every chance she gets in between sips of her drink and eyeing the crowd.

But something sets Soap’s senses on edge. Something is wrong.

Maybe it’s how stiff and awkward and downright uncomfortable the man looks.

Maybe it’s how the woman keeps shoving drinks into his hands despite his clear reluctance, watching him like a hawk until he finishes the glass.

Maybe it’s how the man subtly flinches every time the woman touches his bare skin with her oxblood nails. Or how he tries to hunch in on himself when she’s not focused on him, how he seems to be pressing back into the seat as if he could disappear into the upholstery.

Maybe it’s the panic in his eyes, the resignation on his face, the ignored “no’s” that Soap can read on his lips even across the dark room.

Something is wrong.

So even though the man is built like a brick shithouse and looks like he could bench Soap without breaking a sweat, and even though he has scars across his face and knuckles that prove he can take care of himself, and even though Soap can feel the aura of “leave-me-the-fuck-alone” radiating from him-

Soap still approaches the man when the woman stumbles her way to the bathroom. Because something is wrong and he’ll be damned if he ignores his intuition.

So Soap goes over under the guise of picking up the empty glasses, undeterred by the man who’s unfocused gaze is boring holes into the sticky table. He picks up the glasses and plays it cool, rapping his knuckles to get the man’s attention, as if taking his order for a refill.

Asks the stranger if he needs an angel shot.

It takes a moment for the man to respond, for him to understand what Soap is asking. But when the man’s shoulders slump in relief and gratitude shines in his dark eyes as he nods up at Soap, looking like a lost child staring up at their salvation, Soap knows he made the right decision.

The woman returns, sliding into the booth and spreading possessively over the man’s lap when Soap asks him how he wants his drink.

The “On ice, please,” spoken in a rough and tired baritone has Soap nodding and heading back to the bar with a grim but determined expression.

In a few minutes, he’ll head back to the table and tell the man that something is wrong with his credit card and he should come with him to settle the tab. He’ll take the man to the back office, safe and secure, and get the woman an Uber of her own. He’ll learn that the man’s name is Simon and that he’s been in an abusive relationship with the woman for two and a half years. Soap’ll learn that she physically, mentally, emotionally, financially abused Simon, that she controls his every move, that she cost him his job, she wrecked his car, she killed his cat-

But right now he’s grabbing a refrigerated bottle of water and a bag of crisps, dropping them off in the back before putting his best apologetic-server face on and heading back towards the booth with the “bad news” about the man’s card.

First, he has an angel shot to deliver.

A brainworm drabble that’s near and dear to my heart. Abuse comes in all shapes and sizes and doesn’t discriminate against gender. Please keep your eyes peeled, your ears sharp, and your hearts open to those who may need help, including yourselves. A part of me wants to make this a full fic, but I’m not sure. For now it’ll live with the other brain worms.

[wdba]

I feel like I need to get the brainworms out and talk about the contrasts and how much cooler the Owlks make the Nomai look (cause Nomai the gentle alien folks my beloved)

Okay, I've recently finished watching SovietWomble and an Astrophysicist's playthrough of the DLC and they both made couple points that I did not realize: SovietWomble noticed that the Owlks were living in on a single planet they frequently remind themselves of, while the Nomai were... Nomaidic and have no reservations about having to settle on two planets they crashlanded on.

Their technology, too! The Astrophysicist noticed the Owlks made use of solar sails to propel the Stranger away from the growing sun, while the Nomai made use of warp technology to go anywhere. The Stranger relies on centrifuge-based artificial gravity. The Nomai treats artificial gravity almost like an afterthought that they made tiles that allow you to walk on walls and ceilings (not to mention the gravity cannons they use to launch ships). The Owlks have light-based projection slides that you manually turn to view the images. The Nomai have 3D projections that allow you to walk in them???

And everything about the Owlks seemed hedonistic and excessive, too; they had wine and board games. Theaters, music halls, art galleries, painting and photographs, and what appears to be a restaurant? A viewing room for the solar system and its eventual supernova death?? Billboards that seem to point out that This Is A Tourist Spot??? Our beloved Nomai only had the basics, and those structures focused a lot on knowledge: a forge, an observatory, a museum, a school. Their greatest projects, the Sun Station, Ash Twin Project, and the Orbital Probe Cannon were just functional and minimalistic enough that all three of them pales in comparison to the grandiose that is the Stranger ringworld.

Which is getting to the point why I made this post: their dam. It almost feels like a monument to how excessive they were, second to the Stranger itself.

We eventually find out that the Owlks stripped their homeworld bare, turning it into a wasteland just to build the Stranger. And yet they have a dam, which isn't even implied to generate electricity! It's seems to be there for the simple purpose of holding back water, which they appear to have a surplus of. We accidentally harvested too much water from our homeworld and turned it barren, oops! The Nomai (beloved, gentle, caring, wise) took great care to leave ore for the Hearthians in the distant future where they evolve and discover space travel. Nomai!!! Best!!!

It feels to me that the Owlks represent the entertainment side of curiosity while the Nomai, the scientific. Which makes us wonder why they came to the Eye at all; were they like the Nomai wanting to study the Eye? Or were they there to gawk at its rarity, much like how they were going to treat a local sun going supernova as Yet Another Amusement?

[genericpuff]

y'all have no idea how relieved this makes me

call it petty but when i saw that the webtoonies' results were up, i clicked it fully expecting to see WT's worst self-insert disaster couple and-

LO had a character nominated for MVC and it didn't win

and not only did it not win MVC

it didn't win in any of its nominated categories-

obv there's not much to say here but i have a few brainworms i gotta get out of my skull over this

mostly just that you can tell that WT's audience as a whole is just so over LO. I'm hoping this is the kick WT's needs to stop dumping all of its money into LO and Rachel thinking that if they give it all the awards and ad spaces that'll just make it "good again". this was a contest that was purely audience-based so it just goes to show that LO isn't capable of winning anything on its own merit anymore, the only awards it gets now are the ones that WT buys for it.

but my tinfoil hat brain is also wondering if LO had its wins shuttered because WT saw how people reacted to the Eisner win FJDKASLFJSAKLFSJDAKL (which i don't think i've even talked about here yet so buckle up because that's something i wanna talk about too)

but that's purely tinfoil/deranged thoughts because while I didn't vote in the actual thing, I heard that you could see the results of the polls much like here on Tumblr and apparently LO was losing by thousands FLJFKLDSAJFDSKLAFJSDAKL

so yeah, it's clear through both the reactions to LO's Eisner win and its lack of a single win in the Webtoonies (despite how much WT carries it on its shoulders compared to other series) LO's peak is long gone and people are done with it. and i'm so relieved to see that because i just. i don't even read these other comics and some of them i also just don't enjoy but i just didn't want to see LO sweep another competition just for being WT's poster child. there are so many series that deserve to be seen and i hope all of this is the wake up call WT needs to just quit trying to stuff LO's corpse full of money and just work on finding/promoting their next big hit.

[eldritchamy]

i have read the original story and consulted the wiki as i wrote it

What other stories have you read?

It's one thing getting your worldbuilding and vibes from the wiki and another thing entirely to see how the really foundational stories did it up close for yourself.

Absolutely NOTHING about Abscission and Divaricated can really be conveyed to you in the form of a summary. Those two stories ARE HDG. The original story is great, but those are the works that built the world the OG story is a tiny peek into. They are earthshatteringly important to UNDERSTANDING the setting as a whole.

I've had the idea behind my first story for almost a month now and every really major foundational story I've read so far has been absolutely groundbreaking in terms of the perspective I've gained. SO MUCH of the time I've spent reading *THE* setting-defining works I've just been overwhelmed by the sense of HOW MUCH BETTER I'll be able to do my own story after having read these first.

As eager as I am to start writing, the amount I'm getting out of reading these other works first is undeniable. I can no longer imagine trying to tell the story I want to do without having read them. I've even had a couple of major authors and server staff tell me outright that it seems like I grok with the setting really well, and I'm still determined to have the experience of those foundational stories BEFORE I start working on my own. The end result of what I want to do can ONLY be better for having that perspective.

Plus, they are foundational for a reason. They're AMAZING stories. There's a reason (well, several) the setting expanded so far from the original story into the thousand-plus stories that now exist as part of a shared universe. And that reason is Abscission and Divaricated. Plus a few others that I'm still very eager to read.

I don't want it to sound discouraging that you should read a LOT of things before you commit to writing for the setting.

It's a really fun journey to be on, seeing how the works that MADE hdg what it is set everything up. And it will absolutely help the end result of whatever you want to make feel more at home in the shared world (and remember, it IS very much a SHARED WORLD, not really a fandom in any traditional sense).

I got the writing brainworms too, but I do NOT regret the experience of taking my time to learn the vibes and read the axiomatic works of the setting FIRST, and I'd go as far as saying that if I had started writing it before reading a lot of these, I absolutely WOULD have ended up regretting it later.

[formosusiniquis]

🪱 Wiggle Wednesday🪱

Thank you @paperbackribs who tagged me last week, I saw it while I was in class and immediately forgot until I saw people posting their things today. But I'm always excited to share my current brainworms

This is a scene from a fic that I pick at every now and then, so it's basically always on the brain. It started as something about Lucas and Steve and trying to explain away the slight anachronism of Steve (popular and rich) being in Nikes before Jordan made them cool (thank you Air) and it has turned into something much more about Lucas and also his Mom relating through a shared love of basketball and Steve is also there.

It’s a Friday night after the end of the world, and strangely Lucas is at a basketball game.

Or maybe it’s only strange because it’s so normal.

A Friday night in a small town and there isn’t much to do except support the home team. Only Mom won’t watch football, she calls it barbaric, so she reserves all her team spirit for November when basketball season starts. Lucas’ skin itches a little under the Hawkins Tigers shirt he’s wearing, as he’s pretending to be normal when a couple weeks ago he learned monsters were real. What can he do though? Mrs. Byers has Will on house arrest, Mike is still mourning Eleven, and Dustin hasn’t been allowed out since Will’s Lazarus act.

Maybe he’s being too sensitive. Steve is here, who Lucas mostly knows from Mike complaining about being Nancy’s stupid boyfriend. Steve is playing like everything is fine, even though Lucas knows Steve knows. He heard whispering about it with Nancy when he went to the bathroom the last time he was at Mike’s. But Steve is smiling as he paces down the court. Miles better than the other players around him, when Steve has the ball Lucas feels like he does when he’s watching a real basketball game on the couch with his Mom.

If Steve can act like things are normal. If he can sink three pointer after rebound after assist, maybe it’s okay that Lucas is wearing his Tiger green. He floats down the court and everyone cheers. But no one cheers right. When #21 Hagan gets a rebound off of Seymour’s best player, a girl’s voice screams so loud it makes his throat hurt. No one cheers that way for Steve. It’s just excitement for the game, not for him and the way he is playing.

When the game ends, Hawkins 73: Seymour 42, and the crowd storms the court Lucas stands by his Mom in the bleachers. She hates feeling the push of the crowd against her and as he gets older, and people’s hands get rougher, he’s starting to understand. He’s too old to be caught standing by his Mom though. After everything, he knows better than to move too far away from her; going to the game with your Mom is one thing, being the kid getting called out over the intercom because she can’t find you would be life ruining.

Lucas watches the thinning crowd while he waits. Parents and girlfriends crowding their sweaty players. He doesn’t want to get caught looking at any of those boys for too long now that they aren’t playing. He isn’t sure why. So he keeps looking for something familiar.

Steve is standing beside a short, dark haired man who’s got what his father calls a beer gut. He doesn’t look anything like Steve, but he’s also the only adult anywhere near him. He’s the only person at all that’s really near Steve. They’re talking excitedly about something. He claps Steve on the back and whatever he says next has Steve looking down toward the floor.

“Is that Steve’s dad?” he asks his mom before thinking about why that might be a weird question to ask her.

“Who?” The way she says it makes him sure she hadn’t actually heard the question. She’d caught a name, when he interrupted her conversation with the lady next to them, but not enough to answer. It’s a free chance to drop the issue. To say sorry, never mind, and go back to watching people move on the floor below them.

“That guy,” she slaps his hand down as he goes to point. “The guy next to Steve, number 8, is that his dad?”

“How do you know him?” The question, instead of an answer, startles him enough that he looks at her instead of Steve. Stern, he knows he doesn’t want to lie to her, but he also isn’t sure how to say that this random high school boy saved two of his best friends’ older siblings' lives.

“He’s Nancy’s boyfriend. Mike talks about him.”

If he’d just waited. He would have gotten his question answered without asking Mom. They both watch as that man says one more thing to Steve, shakes his hand, and walks out of the gym. “I don’t see Nancy here.” Because they both know he doesn’t really need his other question answered anymore.

“I don’t think she really likes sports.”

Mom sucks her teeth, a judgmental tchk that has heat climbing the back of his neck when it's not even for him. "Well that's a shame, he's a good player." There's finally enough space on the floor that they could leave. He wants, desperately, for them to just go cause something about this conversation is making him feel guilty again. "Do you want to to say hi?"

There's nothing he wants less than that. Lucas thinks if he has to go up to this guy, who went toe to toe with a monster, while his mom trails behind he'll die. Lucas thinks if he says hi to a guy who has only seen him maybe twice in the context of Mike Wheeler's house, and has to sit there while Steve blankly accepts his congrats he'll melt into the floor.

"Can we just go home? I still have homework."

And some tags to @fuctacles, @cauldronoflove, @thefreakandthehair, @stevespookington, @stevieharringtonwifeguy

@eriquin, @grasslandgirl, @augustjustice, and anyone else who wants to play!

[aestheticaltcow]

I'll Raise You One Better

Richard "Richie" Jerimovich x Reader

Part of the Double Trouble universe, it was a brainworm that didn't stop diggin'

Next Part

The Bear Masterlist

“Yeah, my sister sucks sometimes.” Sierra frowned as Richie paced Carmy’s living room. She looked over to see a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, “You really thought Sierra would cheat on me with you?” Carmy managed to ask without laughing too much. Richie’s arms flew up in the air, “Cousin- I’ve been beating myself up for fuckin’ days about this! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me Sierra had a fuckin’ twin?!” he grunted in a mix of annoyance and anger. He felt like a fool. Since he’d staged at Ever, he felt like he’d found his place in the culinary space. All of that could have been thrown away if he’d actually had sex with Sierra at that party. Carmy would’ve finally cut him off, Natalie would have followed suit due to family ties, and he’d lose his job, his friends, and everything else he’d worked for.

“Richie? Sit down, okay- you’re gonna worry yourself into having a fucking aneurysm.” Sierra sternly cooed as she guided the man to sit on the couch. Carmy leaned back in his chair, absolutely loving this; Sierra rolled her eyes before shooting him a dirty look. “Do you want me to beat her up?” Sierra offered as she sat down next to him. Richie flinched and shifted further away from her. “I just feel like shit Sierra. I thought she was you. I thought I fucked Carmy’s girl- what the fuck does that say about me? I’m a fuckin’ loser scumbag. I fucked my cousin’s fuckin’ girl.” 

Sierra frowned. “I can deal with this if you want, Richie,” she offered, hoping to appease some of the man’s guilt. Richie shook his head. “I just—I don’t know.” He was defeated. A silence fell over the room. Sierra looked at Carmy to see a quizzical look on his face; he had an idea, and she felt like it would be bad. 

“She fucked with you- you fuck with her,” Carmy suggested breaking the silence. Richie looked at him, “What do you mean?” he queried, raising an eyebrow in Carmy’s direction.

~

Sierra invited you out for dinner only to stand you up. You ended up ordering dinner to go and then went outside to wait. As you scrolled through your phone, you heard someone call out, ‘Sierra?’ You looked up and felt like a deer in the headlights—it was none other than Richie. 

“Thought you were workin’ tonight.” Richie laughed as he walked up to you. You shrugged, still playing into the idea of being Sierra, “Nah, I got a coworker to cover for me.” you bluffed. “Surprised you’re not hangin’ out with Carmy. We closed early- he said somethin’ ‘bout havin’ plans with you.” Richie said as he shoved his hands in his ill-fitting track pants pockets. You glanced toward his crotch and could swear you saw the outline of his cock; even soft, it was impressive. The thought of it filling you up again made your core quiver in anticipation. “Nah- I wanted some alone time, ya know…” you played off quickly, looking back up in his stormy blue eyes. “I told Carmy about what happened at Marcus’s party…. I didn’t think you two were that kind of couple.” Richie sneered, hoping you didn’t see through his own bluff. 

You shrugged in response. You tried not to think about your sister’s sex life, but now you were a little curious: what were Sierra and Carmy doing behind closed doors? Growing up, Sierra told you everything and the idea of her being some kinky sex freak would be an interesting lure reveal. “Things were gettin’ dry, ya know? Turns out Carmy’s into some… interesting stuff.” you subtly flirted back at him. Richie chuckled before quickly swiping his tongue over his top lip, “You know my place is just up the street. Wanna have some fun before the big night?” he asked as he stepped closer to you. 

“Big night?” you wonder, fidgeting with your phone case as you blankly stare at Richie. A wicked smile spread across Richie’s face, “Didn’t he tell you ‘bout it? He said he did… wanted to watch you get fucked… by a real man.”

You felt your breath hitch at Richie’s words. What the fuck did you get yourself wrapped up in? Richie sensed your hesitation and moved his hands on your hips and slowly pulled you toward him, “You scared princess? What happened to my good girl? Carmy said-”

You cut Richie off, “I’mnotSierraIdon’twannadothis!” 

Richie chuckled and shuffled his hands from your hips to your lower back, dangerously close to the top of your ass. “I know you’re not Sierra, Y/N. Why did you let me think you were?” 

“Uh- I uh- I never um said-” you mumbled softly as you looked away from him, “You let me believe it. You let me believe I fucked my best friend’s girlfriend. You know he’s gonna propose to Sierra, right? You let me think that I ruined the one thing that makes Carmy happy.” Richie hissed.

You swallowed, “I-I-I-” 

“I-I-I,” Richie taunted, “What! What you tryin’ to fuckin’ apologize for being a fuckin’ bitch? You’re just such some dumb little slut, aren’t you? Get off on fuckin’ up people’s lives? Makin’ think the worst of themselves?” he laughed letting his hands fall. “Fuck you, Y/N. You’re nothin’ but a fuckin’ whore.”