#pt 2 coming soon :))

[rebelsafoot]

truly one of the most influential productions of our generation. i think about all the cunt they served daily

[amourlyns]

⠀ 「 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 」

⠀ ━━ 🌷 💕

✦ 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⨟⠀ Cole and Faustine reflect on the time they spent together over the years, especially the seasons. Late spring and early fall is one of the very many seasons Cass enjoys the most.

✦ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ⨟⠀Cole Cassidy + Faustine. OC

✦ 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 ⨟⠀Dedicated to @i1yso . Faustine is their own original oc! This is set in a modern au, winter is in their cabin up north, fall is in Greece, spring is Paris and summer is Italy ! 🦦 Heavily inspired by this song ➜    masterlist

✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ⨟⠀ None!

⠀ ⠀ ★ ⠀ | IT’S WINTER TIME, AND COLE IS outside on the porch with a cigar in between his lips and hot cocoa in his grasp. Winter always seems to coat the world in a silence he wouldn’t get anywhere else.

Faustine isn’t far behind, she’s somewhere in their cozy little cabin searching for the perfect blanket for this chilly night. She emerges from their shared home, the creak of the door signals it. She’s wrapped around in familiar quilt Ana gifted them a few years back.

It was still in perfect condition, Faustine swore to keep the item pristine till she died. Needless to say she adored the gift, in fact… Faustine appreciated every single gift anyone gave to them. She cherished them, although her appreciation may be hard to see time to time.

Faustine sits besides Cole, draping the quilt on their bodies. She doesn’t say a single word to him, choosing to focus on the comfort silence between them. She takes a sip of the sweet thick liquid with a hum, the warmth seeped from the hand made mug Gabriel gave them last month.

It was a sweet sentiment, he always did have a knack for arts n’ crafts. The mug resembled Route 44, tumbleweeds and all. It was really a piece of art. ❛ Reyes did a good job on this mug. ‘S real nice. ❜ Cole praises softly, amber hues study Faustine’s expression for a few moments before glancing away.

She doesn’t say much, the only audible thing that leaves her is the faint sound of her humming in agreement.

There was one thing Cole knew about Faustine. He knew that woman hated waking up on early mornings, she would rather sleep in and get her desired amount of rest. She’s been trying to shake the habit though, it’s obvious by her actions today and the last few weeks of her waking up early just to be with Cole.

It was a sweet gesture though, the bed head and the quiet demeanor in the morning was always a delight. The mere thought caused his lips to curl up into a smile, Faustine watched him with a weariness like no other.

A smile creeps up to her expression as well. ❛ What are you smiling at creep? You look weird ❜ despite her blunt statement, she only cuddles into Cole’s side. Watching him with an admiration he’s never really felt before, he’s had something similar sure. But never this. ❛ ‘S nothing too serious now, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it. ❜

There’s an unmistakeable quirk in her brow. She was obviously not convinced but, she’d get over it eventually. Maybe after a few hours of pestering him, but he’ll be fine.

After a few more hours of dozing off in the morning sun, the couple moves back inside for the remainder of the day. The limbs would intertwine together like fine threads of silk entangling together due to the strength of northern winds.

Something inevitable and habitual. It’s the way they touch each other, these gentle little gestures of love for on another. It sparks something in Cole, something he hasn’t thought about since last year.

And that was marrying Faustine.

The thought of marriage used to startle him, a commit that lasted a life time… with one individual? It used to frighten him to death, he could only dream about being held down in such a manner. He was sure Faustine felt the same way about attachment.

Cole questions a few things in the moment. What was it about Faustine that made him change the way he viewed love? He’s had other lovers in the past, sure. But he just couldn’t shake Faustine. Was it her mere charms that had him like a love sick puppy? Or was it her lovers coo that melted his core?

Whatever it was, it was magical.

IT’S SPRING NOW, AFTER SOME DISCUSSION about spent some time in sweet, sweet Paris. The couple has enjoyed the city so far.

Faustine was a bit annoyed due to the pollen and her allergies. But it was nothing some Benadryl can’t help with.

It seems like the atmosphere gave Cass some courage too, as well as a few talks with Reyes about marriage. Why did he marry Martina? When did it feel right? And kids…

Cole Cassidy has never had any thoughts about kids with Faustine, marriage? Sure. But kids?… It must’ve felt right at the moment. Or maybe it was something he’s always thought about in his heart…

There was one thing he knew for sure, and that was his love for Faustine. Cole loved Faustine with every bone and fiber in his body, there were no ifs or buts about it. That was the main reason he wanted to go to Paris, his love for Faustine. He would propose to her in the city she considers home.

Cole wanted to be her home one day too.

THE SUNSETS, AND THE LOVERS RETIRE TO THEIR hotel room. It was their last day in Paris and it’s was Cole’s final day to ask the question. His hands are clammy and his throat runs dry. All he needed to do was charm the lady, how hard was that?

They were already situated in each others arms, dancing to Micheal Bublé’s 〞 The Way You Look Tonight. 〞Hips would sway to the soft rhythm throughout the shared space. A smile beams across Faustine’s expression, cheeks would glow in a rosy tint at the close proximity.

Cole was the man who could still make Faustine melt into a puddle, the man she loved since she was just a teenager. There’s nothing else for her but to love him, and the way he looks tonight. Eyes would meet and lips would collide, a soft laughter escapes Faustine… and Cole is lost in the moment.

His foolish heart squeeze and constricts at the sight of her nose crinkling up in joy. Words stumble out from her lips, he’s not paying attention of course, but there was an obvious tenderness to it. ❛ Cole, mon coeur. You keep spacing out on me, should we call it a night and head to bed? We’ve got a long trip tomorrow. ❜

He snaps out of his daze, focusing on his lover once more. A dopey smile keeps onto his expression. ❛ ‘S nothin’, promise! You just look lovely tonight. That breathless charm always gets to me hon. ❜ Instead of replying, she places a few kisses against Cassidy’s jawline. Murmuring a few sweet nothings into his ear. It was now or never for Cole.

The hand against her waist gives a slight squeeze. The action causes Faustine to gaze at him with confusion. She nods, waiting for him to continue whatever he had to say. He gets on one knee, removing the ring from his back pocket. Moonlight illuminates the pair.

❛ Hyeon—ju, Faustine. I’ve loved you since we were eighteen, and I’ve done nothing else but adore and cherish you for all those years. This is me, taking a chance with you. God, I might seem like a damn fool right now but I’ve never wanted anything more than this honey.❜

What could she even say to this? She’s too shocked to utter a word, and the tears in her eyes make it impossible to see anything. How long was he planning this? Marrying… her? She must’ve been going insane. After a few more minutes of shock, more tears and uncontrollable smiling. She says yes.

[ollythepikman]

Yoo art drop WOOOOOO

[baby-yongbok]

My Savior part 2 when 😩😩😩

I'm gonna do itttt lol I'm working on it here and there. Gotta think of the most tragic ending I can 😭👀

[tomcriuse]

Thomas Gibson as Aaron Hotchner Criminal Minds 2.01 'The Fisher King: Part 2'

[galaghiel]

pt 1

next>

[gyuzgrl]

her //kmg// pt.2

pt 2 of 'her'- the morning after reveals much to y/n, and she makes a difficult decision- one that neither her nor Mingyu seem to escape from unscathed.

Dread, shame, confusion.

The morning after a night of love shouldn't leave one feeling this way, yet here you are, lying paralysed in bed, next to a man you can't seem to figure out.

Why did he find solace in another's bed? Why was it the same woman every time? Were his words from last night even true?

Questions haunt you, floating around inside your head like ghosts in an empty castle. When one fades, another takes it's place, poking holes in your rationality, mocking you for what you've done.

How could you give in so easily? After everything he's done, after the betrayal- how could you let him in? Vulnerable and exposed, you let him see you, hear you, touch you?

Embarrassment doesn't even begin to cover what you feel.

Your skin feels sticky and each spot he touched burns into you, like red-hot metal, sizzling tender flesh. The kisses, the grip marks, every point of contact feels wrong. Of course, last night was consensual- two grown adults made a decision to spend a night together- but you can't shake that sickly feeling taking over you; a thick, dark oil, staining your skin as you sink further and further into despair.

Turning over, you let your eyes scan over Mingyu's face- sleeping peacefully, unaware of the havoc he's caused in your mind. The gentle sighs of breath, the way his lashes tickle his skin, how his lips settle into the prettiest pout- it isn't fair. None of it is.

He doesn't get to sleep like this while your mind races at a thousand miles per second. He doesn't get to live ignorantly like this.

You won't let it happen.

You won't swallow your pride and pretend like everything's okay.

Slipping out from under the covers, you head straight for a shower. Silky, warm water embraces you, washing away the stains of yesterday, only for them to resurface and solidify the past. No matter how hard you scrub, no matter how desperately you scratch, the marks remain as they are- seething red reminders of how small you made yourself for Mingyu's affections.

Before you know it, tears begin to flow- tears of shame, of humiliation. All it took was for him to say he returned your feelings, and you forgave everything. You let him touch you mere hours after he'd laid his hands on another woman- god what has happened to you?

You step into your robe, the pearly white colour of the fabric mocking you as if to say- "you're the shell of who you once were."

Time passes as it usually does, and you find yourself at the breakfast table, staring into the distance. Your mind has finally settled to a conclusion.

This must end.

As you sit, unmoving, Mingyu begins to stir from his sleep. An arm extends itself out of habit, feeling for your body beside him, and he jolts awake when his skin comes in contact with cold, lifeless cloth.

Panic fills his nerves in the flash of a second and he scrambles out of bed, stumbling over to the hall. Clumsy, frantic feet thud along the ground and he calls out your name, voice hoarse as if holding back a sob.

"I'm here," you state, eyes still fixed at the wall.

Mingyu feels his muscles slump back into relaxation. You're still here. You didn't leave.

"I uh, I thought... Never mind, have you eaten?" he grins, eyes sparkling as he gazes at you lovingly, "I'll fix something up for us- what do you feel like eating? something soup-y? pancakes? eggs? I make really good eggs-"

"last night was a mistake."

His voice fades to a deathly still. The luster in his eyes dulls to a cold brown and he slumps down onto the chair opposite yours.

"oh." he says softly.

"I've had some time to think..."

"and?"

"I don't think we should live together. Or be together. No matter what your reasons were, Mingyu, the fact remains the same- you cheated on me. Nothing will change that, nothing will make that go away."

Mingyu leans forward, tears springing in the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry, y/n- I wish I could c-"

"I know you're sorry. Trust me, I know, Mingyu- but you've done this to yourself. You've been aware of every decision as you made it, you did what you did, knowing fully well that it was wrong. There's no forgiving that. Whatever our feelings are, it doesn't matter anymore."

His head hangs low as your words tear into him. You're right, after all. He did in fact cheat on you. It was his decision, his choice. It's unfair for you to suffer because of his mistakes.

"I'll come back for my things sometime this week." you sigh, moving from your seat, taking hold of your handbag, "Goodbye, Mingyu."

A few days have passed, and you've settled into an expensive hotel, gathering yourself together as other things call for your attention.

Formalities make divorces so much harder than they need to be...

While you sort through legal matters with your family lawyer, Mingyu finds himself falling into a dangerously dark hole. You've been gone all of three days and he's lost himself completely. He hasn't slept, hasn't gone outside, hasn't eaten- it's as if he's lost his will to live.

Your words haunt him, echoing in his head over and over. Desperately, he's tried to silence his thoughts, tried to chase away your voice, but he can't. What makes it all so much worse, is that he knows you're right.

This is all his fault, after all. He really has done this to himself, and he's hurt you too in the bargain.

It's late in the evening, the sky outside flushes dark grey clouds along, as a faint outline of the moon peeks through. Winds howl terribly all around, hinting at the storm that is to come.

The doorbell rings, echoing through the empty house, startling Mingyu out of his daze. Sloppily, he treads to the door, cracking it open to reveal an unfamiliar face.

"can I help you-?" he mutters, eyes skimming lazily over the suited man before him.

"Mister Kim Mingyu? I'm Miss Y/n's lawyer. I understand you've separated, yes?"

Just when he thought he couldn't sink lower than he already has, Mingyu feels his stomach drop as he descends into anguish.

He's smart enough to gauge what's happening. You're legitimizing the divorce- making it real in the eyes of the law.

"sir?"

A voice pulls him back to reality, and he lifts his head up, nodding as he motions for the man to come inside. Dull, confused footsteps lead into the living area and Mingyu takes a seat on the couch, beckoning your lawyer to do the same.

"There are papers you are required to sign, sir." he begins, reaching into his bag to pull out a stack of crisp white sheets, stapled perfectly.

Mingyu stares dumbly at the paper, back hunched, throat dry. He's frozen. There's not a thought in his head, not a sensation in his body.

A minute passes in silence, and he stays unmoved.

The man clears his throat, clicking his pen open before handing it to Mingyu.

"here, you can use mine," he forces an encouraging smile, feeling his heart break at Mingyu's disheveled state. Although he's been made aware of your situation, Mingyu's helpless state tugs at his heartstrings and he can't help but feel sympathetic towards the latter.

"th-thank you,"

With shaky hands, Mingyu takes hold of the pen, stopping at the blank spot resigned for his signature. An indescribable pressure weighs him down. His future, his love, his sanity all sit under the blade of this guillotine- a mere pen.

This pen might just be mightier than any sword he'll ever face.

Sensing his reluctance, the suited man places a hand on his shoulder-

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn, I know we don't know each other- but I've, uh, I've seen this before. I've handled cases like this before and all I can say to make this easier is that you're doing this for her. Not for yourself. If you truly feel guilty for the past, if you truly love her, this is the way you give her her pride back. This is how you can do what's good for her."

His words spur Mingyu into action, resonating deep within the latter's being. Letting you go is unbearable. It stings and burns and swells all at once, but if it lets you heal, if it's good for you, he'll do it in a second.

Scribbling his signature onto the bottom of the page, Mingyu hands the papers over.

"thank you," he says, genuinely this time, "is she-" he hesitates, "is she doing okay?"

The man smiles sadly, rising to his feet- "I'm afraid that's a breach of confidentiality, sir"

And just like that, he's gone, leaving Mingyu alone once again. He settles into bed, draping your blanket over himself as his mind floods over with thoughts of you.

"I hope she doesn't think I gave up on us..."

Then, like a soaring wave, it hits him. What if you think he's taking the easy way out and that his feelings aren't real? What if you expected him to throw a fit and come swoop you up from whatever hotel you're hidden away in?

"fuck-" he curses under his breath, digging around the sheets for his phone.

Mingyu types out a messy apology, pawing at his phone with thick fingers.

"I hope you don't think I'm giving up. As much as I wanted to fight for you, as much as I wanted to rip those papers to shreds, I know this is what you deserve- a shot at real love. Love that doesn't hurt you like I did. I love you so much, Y/n, but you're right, this is my mistake. You shouldn't be the one to suffer for it. I'm sorry for it all. Letting you go is the hardest thing I'll do, but it's what I deserve now. I had the world in my hands and I gave it up for nothing."

Your lip quivers as you read his words. There's a sense of defeat in his tone, as if realization has finally hit and he's understood the gravity of his actions.

Despite his acceptance of your decision, you feel a sharp pang of hurt deep inside your chest. You're doing the right thing. You're protecting yourself. You're being strong.

So, why does it hurt this bad?

Unfocused eyes begin to water, dripping salty puddles onto the screen below, and you realize you're crying.

Mingyu's words from that night play in your head, like a devastating melody, planting seeds of doubt where revenge and empowerment were beginning to grow.

You need to snap out of this.

Now.

Surely, one text message shouldn't have you forgetting all the pain he's caused. You simply cannot give in.

"It's late." you tell yourself, hoping that speaking aloud will give you some semblance of authority over your frenzied feelings, "gotta get some rest"

While you drift off to sleep, Mingyu's thoughts hone in on you, just like they have all these nights. Lying on your side of the bed, huddled in a swarm of your blanket and clothes, he does his best to pretend like you're still here.

He curses himself for that night, chastises himself for all the nights before. There really is no excuse, no explanation that could make what he did okay- he knows- which is why, he's leaving you alone. No matter how much pain he's in, no matter how many bottles he's downed, Mingyu doesn't let his toils bother you.

No drunk phone calls, no angry visits, not even a text. Not one attempt to try and beg you to change your mind.

Ironically, the respect he extends now, by leaving you alone, makes you feel worse somehow. Guilty, even.

Taking a deep inhale, Mingyu lets your fading scent flood his senses, and instantly, the memories come flooding in- how you kissed him so tenderly, how your skin tasted, how you came alive under his touch.

"fuck," he whispers, voice trembling, "if I knew that night would be the last time I could touch you-"

Oh, he'd worship you.

Mingyu pictures it- clear as day.

He would've held you tight in his arms, pressing his forehead to yours as you share one breath. He would've kissed you so deeply, making sure to commit your taste to memory, pushing further, harder, until his own mortality forced him to pull away.

When your face fell at the sight of her marks, Mingyu would've kissed your eyes and placed your hand on his heart saying- "you hear that? that's all for you, my love- no one else, just you". And if that didn't do the trick, he'd be more than willing to dig those marks out of his skin, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much it bled.

Most of all, he'd savor you.

As he crawls down your body, he would kiss every inch of your skin, thanking you for letting him. No God could give him this power, no divine force could allow him to touch you- only you had that authority.

And that, makes you greater than any God he's ever prayed to.

Each kiss would be deliberate, slow. He'd close his eyes, brows set in a deep furrow as his lips take you in greedily, like Jesus' first disciple eating at the Eucharist.

Mingyu feels himself grow hard at the thought- being so close to you, kissing you, feeling you. He takes in a shaky breath to compose himself, but in vain.

It has no effect.

No number of breaths, no volume of alcohol, no hours of sleep will ever be enough to push you away.

So, he gives in.

A hand sneaks down under the blanket, beyond the waistband of Mingyu's sweatpants, ghosting over his cock. He hisses as his fingers graze the reddened tip, hips jerking up to chase that feeling.

Letting his thoughts resume, Mingyu works himself in time with his imagination.

His hands explore your skin, soothing their way down to where you need him most. You tremble under his touch, back arching when he puts his mouth to your cunt.

Eagerly, he laps at your slit, taking in your sweet-salt taste- so addictive he's sure this is all he needs now. Not food, not shelter, not money- just you.

You writhe under him, slipping your hands into his hair, tugging at his locks, and his eyes roll back. The sting of his scalp only spurs him on, and his tongue prods your clit in rapid bursts.

"Mingyu-" you choke out, his name like a plea on your lips.

He sucks harder, pushes you further, and dips his tongue inside you, nudging into your pulsating core. It takes you by surprise, and you can't help the cry that escapes you-

"Mingyu!"

As you tighten around him, Mingyu devours you from the inside out, swallowing every last drop you have to offer, coaxing as much as he can from you until you're spent.

"Mingyu," you moan, clutching his hair tighter as you feel your release mere seconds away, "Min-"

"Mingyu"

A sticky white pool of shame sits at the groove of his thumb, collecting in the dip between his fingers.

"shit."

Stupefied by disbelief, Mingyu stays deathly still. It's pathetic, honestly. He's aware of how he must look, aware of how wrong it is to use you for his own pleasure, but he just can't help himself.

He really can't.

[uservillanelle]

JODIE COMER as WOMAN The End We Start From (2023/24) dir. Mahalia Belo

[ladypepsfanart]

Still thinking about ✨Dune✨

Have a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother design

[rip-regulus]

random things I associate with the marauders + reg

james - the sun, cooking in an apartment with warm lighting, summer road trips specifically in a beaten up truck, red converse, the beach, wired ear buds, laying in a flower field, climbing trees, lighting mcqueen, the laurie love confession, a cd collection, pasta bakes, crying in the shower, treehouses, shotgunning a beer, forgetting to wear your glasses, singing on top of a table, large houses that are still really cozy, smiling really wide, frat parties, your mom jokes, slushy machines, doodles in the margin, polaroids

sirius - the stars, electric guitar, messy black sparkly eyeshadow, making snow angels, rings, having a bonfire, black chipped nail polish, a back pack covered in pin badges, drawing on a car window, smoking after sex, the arctic monkeys, motorbikes, david bowie vinyl, leaning out of a window, hickeys, zippo lighters, men walking the runway, bootcut jeans, setting off fireworks, mummy issues, blasting the radio, talking to the sky, leather jackets

remus - the moon, reading by a fireplace, black coffee, gatekeeping music artists, messily stacked books, really loud booing, grandpa sweaters, smoking in public, mars bars, scars, bed head, a swear jar, mismatched socks, playing chess, crisp autumn air, covering things in stickers, falling asleep in random places, writing a letter, anger issues, listening to records, studying for a test, leather book satchels, high alcohol tolerance

peter - the earth, telephone booths, potted plants, cobblestone streets, knowing secrets, tripping, crossword puzzles, not strong enough by boygenius, digital camera photos, gaming, decorating with picture frames, the end credits of movies, barbed wire fences, sleeping on a mattress on the floor, being exasperated, breaking your arm, big ears, fish eye lens, not being the first choice, welly boots, gambling, hardwood flooring, crayons

regulus - the ocean, paintings with a blurred face, smashed ceramic/glass, winged eyeliner, black cats, the story of icarus, reading poetry and classic literature, graveyards with overgrown grass, piano, religious trauma, bloody knuckles, freshly fallen snow, abandoned churches, nihilism, the movie coraline, gothic architecture, ballet, art museums, being at a crossroads, those windy staircases, the smell of rain, driving gloves, daggers

[axolotldramas]

It seems like I took screenshots of half of Blooming Flowers, Silent Sorrow🌺🌸🌷

...the other half is against the geneva convention to show

"This young master is armed"

Xiao Bao's complicated feelings about Su Yin

If Huaien says they're married, then the're married

🍑🍑🍑

Huaien had a wolf pup as a pet!.. also... medical kink?

They're SO cute

Huaien being happy!!!

Xiaobao writes smut in his head

"FISHLESS AND SHRIMPLESS"?? 🐟🦐🚫

"WHO. DID. THIS. TO. YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

It broke my heart that Xiaobao tought about himself this way

.

.

.

end of pt 1!

[boaduvet]

Wags but we also drive 💍🏎️ pt. 11/?

[clownery-and-fuckery]

Hello okay request for the injury dialogue prompts:

7 + 8 + 13

TechPhee with an injured Tech- maybe he’s just been revealed to be CX-2 and is himself again- and with a comforting Phee

I love hurt comfort sm so I swear there better be no angst…maybe just a lil bit…but don’t kill him

thank you :)

Hello hi yes I know you said NO angst..... however. I bring you this with the promise of a part 2.

with NO hurt, full comfort. I swear it.

I simply couldn't stop the direction this one took 😔 its a "gets worse before it gets better" i SWEAR

Prompts:

"No, no, stop. Stop talking like that. You're gonna be fine."

"Okay. Okay, here's what we're gonna do– fuck."

"I would believe that you're fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so."

Warnings: violence/implied abuse

Pabu, her only home, was burning. She could hear faintly, over her own harsh breathing, people screaming as they ran and fled the chaos. She felt people hitting her as they rushed past.

She could hear Omega in the crowd, yelling refusals as Wrecker held her tight, gunning it for the Marauder. She heard Hunter speaking to Crosshair, ordering him around.

"Phee!" She heard. "Phee, we have to go!"

And Phee spotted him, then, across the courtyard. Hunter was still limping, bleeding from their fight. The Imperial, the aggressor.

Oh, but how could Phee be angry? How could Phee be anything but glad as she looked across and saw the eyes that haunted her every dream?

How could she go, when Brown Eyes- when her Tech was so close?

"Phee!" Hunter shouted as she took off in a sprint, rushing across the courtyard to get to the Imperial, who's mask had shattered and cracked, revealing one dull eye for her.

"Tech!" She hadn't realised she had regained the power to speak until she was screaming, knocking through people to get to him. To hold him and to take him away. "Tech-!"

Phee watched his eyes widen, watched the fear glaze over, watched him scrambled and run away. She slowed only for a moment, confused.

He was running away from her? Why would he–? Tech didn't run. Not Tech, not her—

Hunter grabbed her arm, and tore their way back to the Marauder. They watched Pabu burn as they escaped with as many as they could gather.

Phee had swore. She had screamed, she may have even cried, she wasn't sure all she knew was she was angry.

"You told me he was dead!" She shouted. "You said there was nothing you could've done!"

"Phee–" Hunter's hands were slapped away.

"No!" She yelled. "No- no, you left him." She glared at him. "You left him there."

The trip was quite. Phee could feel the grief rolling off the ship. Or maybe its just her.

She left them on the first planet they land on. Told them not to look, not to contact, not to ask. She only felt a small stab of regret as she listened to Omega cry.

She wouldn't go back. Not until she could prove she was right.

So, she searched. She searched and looked until she found him again. Looked until she could get them a moment alone.

It wasn't perfect. He was distracted, pained and panic-struck. Rex's rebels were looking for him. His leg was bleeding.

Phee took that opportunity to grab him, to hide them. She heard his breath hitch, watched him struggle to escape her grip.

Watched how wide his eyes were when she finally figured out how to get his blasted helmet off his head, throwing it roughly to the side.

"Tech," Phee breathed. She watched him freeze. Watched his resolve crumble as his eyes grew glassy again.

"Phee." He responded in kind.

And just like that, her composure was lost, and she grappled him into a hug so tight, his ribs creaked, and she could feel them through his suit.

"The Empire starve their assassins now?" Phee joked, a wet laugh leaving her. Tech snorted, clutching her tight.

"I guess." He mumbled into her hair, sniffling.

They stayed there for an age before she finally pulled back, looking him over. "Are you hurt?" She asked.

He smiled through the pain, nodding. "I'm fine." He assured. Phee raised a brow.

"See," She rolled her eyes. "I would believe that you're fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so."

Tech blinked, looking to it. "Ah," He murmured. "That is not ideal."

"I'll say." Phee reached to help, only for him to flinch harshly, pulling back. She froze, hands outstretched as she glanced up to him.

"Don't–" He gasped suddenly. "–please." He added hastily. "I can handle it."

She slowly retreated. He nodded greatfully, breathing easier before he reached down, yanking the knife out of his leg with a short cry.

That should've hurt more, Phee thought distantly. Instead, she dropped to her knees with him, hesitating to reach out again.

"Tech?" She said. He hummed, patching himself up. "Come with me."

Tech froze, looking up to her. "Come home to me, to your brother's," She pleaded. "We miss you, we're—"

Tech shot forward, covering her mouth. "Don't." He breathed. "Don't tell me where you are. Don't tell me anything."

"Brown Eyes," She pushed his hand away. "It's–" She let out a small breath. "Whatever they did to you, we can fix it–"

"No." Tech said firmly, eyes shining. "No, you can't– you can't fix me."

Phee frowned. "They–" Tech hesitated, eyes downcast. "He-... I can't be fixed." He said shakily. "He made sure of that."

She hesitated. "Hemlock?" She asked in a whisper. Tech nodded shortly, refusing to look at her. "What did he do?"

"I–" Tech drew up, eyes alight with nothing short of fear before he looked away again. From under his blacks, Phee caught sight of a surgical scar.

She reached forward, fingers brushing against it. Tech flinched hard, throwing himself backwards with a strangled cry.

Phee jumped. "I'm sorry–!" She reached to help him up. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking–"

Only Tech wasn't listening. Covering his ears, he laid curled up on the grass, slurred strings of nonsense leaving him. Phee only caught apologies, and a term she hadn't heard since Crosshair finally told her what had happened to him.

"Good soldiers follow orders."

"Did he–" Phee asked, grasping his arms to break him out of whatever frenzy he had worked himself into. "–did he chip you?"

"Good–" Tech choked out. "–follow orders- follow orders—"

He gasped wetly in her hold, forehead pressed into her shoulder. "Ruined," He sniffed. "He ruined–"

Phee gasped sharply. "No, no, stop. Stop talking like that. You're gonna be fine." She rubbed his back gently, rocking in time with him as he burrowed into her. "He hasn't ruined you. We're going to figure this out, alright?"

Tech said nothing, only sniffling as he pressed further against her. She held him close, mumbling into his hair as she rubbed his back.

"It's alright," She whispered, pressing a kiss against his lips when he finally drew back. "We're going to figure this out. I swear it."

"Phee–" Tech choked out around a sob. She hushed him, pulling him closer.

"Just relax," She encouraged. "Just take a breath, alright? I'm not going anywhere."

Tech wasn't sure how long they sat there, curled up together. His hands fisted in her clothes, her hands delicate in their touch. It was the softest touch he had felt in months.

His being wracked with sobs at the sheer gentleness she held him with. The delicacy in her hold seemed to shattered him.

He slumped into her arms, breathing shakily as she kissed his head gently. "There we go," She whispered. "There's my Tech"

He sniffed tiredly, burrowing into her. "I've missed you so much," She murmured. "You have no idea how long I looked. Even when they told me–"

Her breath hitched, her grip tightened. "I didn't wanna believe it." She admitted. "A guy as smart as you? My Tech? It didn't seem real."

He felt her pull him closer. "I'm so glad it wasn't," She breathed. "You must've been through so much in those labs."

Again, tears pricked at Tech's eyes. He was so tired.

"I know," Phee seemed to respond, running her hand through his hair. "You must be exhausted. You look it."

He was. He was tired and sore and scared. He wanted to go home.

Fresh pain blossomed in him when he remembered it was him that took their home away—

"Shh," Phee was there, grounding him with small circles in his shoulder blades. "Shh, love, I'm here. I've got you."

The comm on his wrist began to beep, and Tech clutched her tighter, a short sound of fear escaping. "Phee," He whispered, terrified.

"What is it, love?" She asked, brows furrowed.

"It's–" An Imperial ship moved overhead. That seemed to answer her question.

She looked to him, eyes wide. "We have to go–" She said in a rush, getting up and pulling him with her. "Come on, we can get you some sort of disguise—"

Tech's heart broke. "Phee—"

"We can find a ship,"

"Phee–"

"We'll contact your brother's, or that Rex guy– or- or—"

"Phee."

She turned to him, eyes shining. He stared back, dark circles under his eyes. He looked as shattered as Phee felt as he took her hand in his.

"I can't go," He whispered what they both knew. "I can't leave."

"Yes you can." She said firmly, jaw set. "We can– or—"

"Phee."

"I'm not ready to lose you again!" She shouted, finally. She felt her chest tighten as Tech flinched, spine straightening.

"I–" She slumped in defeat. "I'm sorry, I didn't meant to yell."

"I know," Tech squeezed her hand. "It's okay."

They both winced at the sound of a ramp lowering. Phee looked to Tech, lost. She hated that he stared back, just as stuck as she was.

There was no way out of this. Tech seemed to tense with the voice that called from the ramp.

Phee recognised the voice only from the small audio recording Echo had recovered from Tech's goggles.

Hemlock.

Tech's breath quickened. "I can't go back–" He admitted suddenly. "Phee-"

"I know." She whispered back, hiding them in the fauna. She tried her best to think, think- find a way out. Find a way to safety.

"Okay. Okay, here's what we're gonna do– fuck." She swore, drawing a blank. There wasn't a way out of this. Tech could be tracked. Tech said they couldn't tell him anything. She didnt know what that meant yet.

From above her, stray tears dropped onto her. "Phee," He clasped her, drawing her up for one desperate, searing kiss. She returned in full, rubbing the tears from his face as she did.

"I'm so sorry." He murmured against her, head bent in shame.

"Don't be," She assured mindlessly. "I'm coming back for you. You're coming home."

He smiled, thoroughly disbelieving her.

Then, he let her go. Phee watched, hidden, as Tech picked up his helmet. Watched it click into place as Tech disappeared under it, becoming someone else.

Phee watched him finally join Hemlock at the ramp. Watched him approach Tech, take his face in his hand and examine him.

Phee felt disgust curl up her spine as he removed his helmet easily, taking his face closer, just how Phee had moments ago.

She nearly shouted in rage when Hemlock's hand streaked across Tech's face, slapping him solidly.

And Phee watched.

Watched the last remains of her home disappear into an Imperial cruiser. Watched Tech walk back into something neither of them were sure he'd walk away from.

Stray tears fell from her eyes as she was stuck on the ground, watching.

[wizardofgoodfortune]

HOB GADLING green with envy (#1, #2)

No, he's crap. [...] Anyway, I've saved the best bit for last.

Bonus: Venison pasty?

[gxlden-angels]

I think it's so funny when Christian flat out reject the concept of being intersex like oh so me and about 2% of the population aren't real but you expect me to believe homeboy's gonna come back after (holy) ghosting us for over 2000 years?

[matchalovertrait]

Since Teodor is always working due to his two businesses, Irene is a stay-at-home mom. However, now that her kids are getting older, she decided to come to Postres de Alegría a couple of times per week to work. It's all hands on deck here!