#reminds me almost of when he spent all of Prime hugging people and never getting hugs --

[cdroloisms]

TW; Death mentioned

I had this thought, I was watching the Hunchback of Notre Dame and remember in the beginning where the Gypsy mother ran to the church and claimed sanctuary, but she died on the church steps

What if c!Dream either was let out of the prison or escaped and c!sam chased him down (for whatever reason you want) and Dream runs to church prime in the Holy Land, claiming sanctuary, and maybe Sam accidentally kills Dream on that land in front of the church

this was a FUN ask, anon, sorry it took so long for me to get to it

tw: DEATH, DEREALIZATION, religious themes, blood, grief, vomit, murder, violence, implied torture/abuse, dark themes, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault

To be honest, when George opens his eyes, he has no idea if he’s awake or not.

This has become an...alarmingly common occurrence. He’d been bothered by it at the beginning, had spent hours stuck in his own head, dropping and picking up items, counting forwards and backwards, seeking any sign possible that what he was looking at was real and not just a figment of his own dreams. In the end, it’d all been for nothing; he would be 100% sure in reality, that what he was looking at was the real world, only for it to dissolve into shadow and himself back to lying on that same bed in the middle of nowhere that he’d never remembered lying down in. At some point, he must’ve just...given up. It’s not like the dreams were unpleasant; they were the exact opposite, most of the time. Unlike that one reality-bending fit of wakefulness that had ended in him boxed in by lava in the middle of a chamber of red, one that wasn’t a dream, surprisingly enough, his dreams are usually just- normal. He goes to his field, harvests some wheat. Talks to Quackity and Sapnap and Karl, though he’s almost certain he’s not talked to any of the three in a long time in the waking world. Sometimes, he’ll even be visited by a god wearing Dream’s face, XD, though sometimes XD is there in the real world, too, so they’re hardly a determining factor. If he’s really lucky, in the dreams, he’ll even see Dream.

Dream, as he remembers him, not as the monster he’s been told he became. Once, the dream had even dropped in the flustered, confused form of Dream from the beginning of the server, all fluffed up hair and boyish joy. Usually, he’ll see a Dream that’s been let out the prison, hale and whole and sheepish, stuttering through brief apologies and hugging him in that overeager way that makes his ribs ache and then the three of them, for the lack of better words, prance off into the sunset without a worry in their minds.

And then he wakes up.

George rubs at his eyes, looks up at the sky to reorient himself; it looks real. It feels real. The sun is warm on his skin, the grass still wet with dew from the morning, brushing against his ankles as he stands up. He’s in the area behind Punz’s house, his walls and towers looming in front of him, and George blows a breath through his teeth as he goes towards the direction of the Prime Path. There’s no knowing if this is a dream or reality, but either way, standing in one place does nothing for him. Better to get the rest of the day over with than to waste it here.

He’s not even halfway to the Prime Path when sirens sound on the horizon, giving him pause. That’s never happened before. They’re loud, and shrill, and something niggles at the back of his head in a vague sense of familiarity, begging for him to understand and take note. He frowns, and picks up the pace- if he gets on the Path, he might get a better idea of what’s going on. At the very least, if there’s something dangerous, his best bet is the Holy Land.

Surprisingly enough, when he gets there, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around, only the consistent drone of sirens on the horizon. George strains his eyes along both sides of the path; nobody comes, or speaks, or makes their presence known. There’s only George, alone. It’s strangely eerie.

Is this a dream? he considers briefly, before shaking his head. It doesn’t matter.

It’s another several minutes before anything changes. He stands there, at the edge of the Holy Land, until he hears a faint clamor that draws his attention, prompts him to edge forward along the path. The sound, starting faint, quickly swells in volume, underscored by the hum of the siren still ringing in the distance.

First come the shouts, overlapping, too muffled for George to quite pick the words out between the sounds. Then come the footsteps, low and rumbling, making the path creak and shudder. Then-

“Get him!”

George watches, eyes wide behind his goggles, as a dull orange blur reaches the crest of the hill and stumbles down it in a dead sprint, not paying him a second glance as they swing under the arched entrance to the Holy Land to enter within it. They collapse into a heap on the quartz steps- and oh, that’s blood seeping out of them, staining the white red, their hands tight on the stairs as a shivering string of sounds leave their crimson-speckled lips. Their face turns towards him, unseeing, and George feels something splinter, irreparably, in his chest, because that’s Dream.

He’s dreamed about Dream a lot, but never like this. Never injured, like this, face hollow and haunted, scars splitting his skin into shards. The wheezes in his dreams had always been from laughter, not this seething, spitting rattle that emerges from his chest, worryingly wet and irregular. He’s collapsed on the bottom steps of Church Prime, legs bent strangely in a way that must be uncomfortable against the ground, arms resting against the edges of the stairs, all skin and bone and still-bleeding cuts, and he looks like he’ll never be able to stand up again.

“Please, please, pl-please,” he stutters through his sobs, meaningless begs and platitudes falling on George’s ears and making him cringe back at the sound, “please-” and George doesn’t quite know what he’s begging for, doesn’t know what has left his friend in a ruin on the ground, leaving bloodstains on the stone, but the words worm under his skin and into his skull and refuse to leave. Footsteps continue to pound on the path behind him; George turns around, gasps at the sight of two figures, fully in enchanted netherite, thundering over the wood and into the Holy Land.

“What-”

“There!” The voice is rough but familiar, and the figures dash over to where Dream is lying, defenseless. His pleads rise in pitch and volume, becoming almost unbearable to listen to, and there’s an angry clamor of voices and an awful, wet crack and a shrill scream-

Silence.

“Holy fuck-” George’s head is spinning, the voice finally registering- that’s Quackity, stance wide, a sword in his hand. Beside him, tall and imposing, stands Sam, his full set of Warden armor shining brilliantly under the still-rising sun. His hands are wrapped around his trident, gleaming cyan, the end speared straight through Dream’s chest.

“You killed him,” Quackity hisses, head raising and only then meeting George’s eyes. “Sam- what are we going to- you killed him.”

“I-” Sam shakes his head. “I had to, he was going to get away-”

“Sam-” Quackity’s voice pitches higher, more desperate, “Sam, did you- oh fuck, we’re in the Holy Land-”

The air shatters.

That, at least, seems to be the only way to describe what happens; George watches, breathless, as the air shimmers and warps unnaturally, the way his dreams do right before he wakes up, only centralized in the Church entrance instead of surrounding him on all sides. Blood continues to run down the stairs, stark against the pure white of the quartz, so dark it almost seems black. The ripple clarifies, deepens; there’s a sound like ripping fabric, and something carves a tear through what seems to be existence itself. Behind, there’s a starless void, alluring, wanting, calling, dark and deep and everlasting and the End this is The End-

A whirl of white and green and gold, and the tear is gone, leaving something entirely other in its wake. George shivers in his place; he thought that he’s seen XD angry, before, remembers vividly the feeling of being chased, the God’s voice calling after him as he shut the doors of Punz’s house behind him. He remembers the way their voice had glitched, growing deeper and distorted, the rage with which they had growled at him when they thought they were being used.

That all pales in comparison to this. That was all nothing compared to this.

“YOU-” the deity booms, voice echoing and crackling and rolling like thunder and cracking ice and the roar of the ocean on the sand, making George clamp his hands to his ears in vain. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

George remembers being uncomfortable, back then, at how inhuman XD had seemed. Their jokes, gory and violent and startling, their idea of a prank being playing with people like dolls subject to their whims. It had taken him a while to really seem to get the God and for the God to understand him in turn, a while for him to understand that ignorance did not mean malice, that even a God that had never once known mortality could be so startlingly human. Here, their wings spread over them, seeming large enough to block out the sun, something dark and writhing behind the mask they wear, a sourceless wind howling around their robes and battering against the walls with aimless fury, George is reminded by how powerful they really are. That they are still eldritch, still a God, that they will not hesitate to judge those below him, the ones that they stare at, now, helpless and mortal and trapped within their gaze.

Sam stumbles back on the church steps, grip loosening on his trident. It continues to stick up out of Dream’s unmoving body, splattered with blood halfway up the handle.

“Oh no-” he hisses, and Quackity backs away with him, “no, no no I didn’t want to kill him,”

“THIS DOMAIN IS MINE.” Anyone else and it might’ve sounded petulant, childish. Here, with the deity’s fury directed on the two of them, even on the sidelines all George can feel is terror. “YOU HAVE TAKEN A LIFE UNDER MY PROTECTION, MORTALS.”

“Sam,” Quackity’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Sam, we gotta- we gotta run-”

“WHERE WILL YOU GO, LITTLE MORTAL?” XD disappears, then flashes back into existence at the Holy Land entrance, making Quackity and Sam shriek with their escape route blocked. “YOU HAVE ABUSED THE AUTHORITY YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN AND DESTROYED WHAT WAS NOT YOURS TO BREAK. YOU HAVE PURSUED POWER BEYOND YOUR UNDERSTANDING AND OUTSIDE YOUR POSSESSION. YOU HAVE ENTERED MY DOMAIN, MY REALM. DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU SHALL LEAVE UNPUNISHED?”

“XD,” Sam shouts, and thunder cracks overhead.

“A LIFE FOR A LIFE,” XD rumbles, their words final, and in the end, just as every other time, all George can do when the world ends is watch. Lightning spears to the ground, striking both Sam and Quackity with twin flashes of brilliant white, striking from a clear blue sky. The air sparks from the power, charged with static electricity and making George’s hair stand on end; thunder claps, seems to shatter the world into two as they disappear in twin shrieks and the smell of burned flesh. Just as quick as it happens, it ends, and George is once again left alone in the Holy Land, vomit clawing up his throat and tears stinging the backs of his eyes as he dry-heaves into the grass.

“XD,” he more begs than says, eyes fixed on Dream, still lying too-still on the church stairs. The deity turns to him, their face strangely blank. “XD, please- please tell me this is a dream.”

“Would that make you happy, George?” the god replies, and George sobs, face collapsing into his hands.

“Please, XD, please tell me- please tell me this isn’t real, please-”

“I don’t understand, George. Would that ease your distress?”

“XD- THIS CAN’T BE REAL- THIS- I-” George sinks to the ground. “He- he was supposed to be okay. He was supposed to come back, he wasn’t-” he grips their robes within his hands. “Please, XD, you can bring him back, please bring him back- this has to be a dream, he can’t be- he can’t be dead-”

Through his cries, the sirens continue to wail.

[pillage-and-lute]

Thicker Than Water (Part 2)

Part 1, (Here) Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Ao3 link HERE

Here we are y’all, it only gets sadder before we heal the hurt.

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Of all the eyes he could have met, purely by chance, in a forest while running from people who wanted to kill him, Yennefer’s were not the one’s he would have chosen. He wasn’t sure who he’d like to see right now. Geralt definitely, but also not. It was only a small mercy Geralt wasn’t with his witchy lady love right now.

She met his eyes, intense and unexpected, like heat lightning. She looked him up and down, lip curling, disgusted and pitying, but somehow not as unkindly as he’d expected. She turned.

“Geralt,” she yelled. “I found your pet.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. 

He was about to turn and...run? Hide? What could he do? But then a pale face peeked around a tree. White blonde hair, bright, cautious eyes. 

Then the girl gasped and ran forward.

“Dandelion!” The rising cry of delight frightened birds from the trees and a blue blur rushed at him. He was slammed to the ground by a rather bedraggled princess and he had never been so glad. 

Of all the people he had burdened, he’d never felt like one around Ciri. Her arms were a vice around his neck. He hadn’t been hugged like that since his sister had passed away and he sat up in the cold, damp leaves, clutching her to him. She looked up at him with a face like a moonbeam.

“I found the white wolf, from your stories,” she said. Her eyes were big and trusting and she seemed to expect Jaskier to be pleased and proud. And he was. He had no doubt that Geralt and Ciri would be good for one another. The issue was that now he had to deal with--

“Jaskier.”

Shit. Geralt. 

He stood, setting Ciri gently down and brushing himself off. He turned.

“Hello Geralt,” he said evenly. He hoped it was evenly. Don’t yell at me, he thought. Don’t tell me I’m a burden again, as he stared into impassive golden eyes. I know I’m a burden but just let me leave, I won’t bother you again but I can’t bear it.

“Dandelion can come with us, right Geralt?” Ciri said. The White Wolf raised one eyebrow.

“Dandelion?”

Ciri clutched Jaskier’s hand in one of her mittens. “He played at my name day banquets, all of them, but Jaskier’s hard to say when you’re a baby.”

Geralt met Jaskier’s eyes and it felt like a physical blow.

“Hmmm,” he said.

“Little highness,” Jaskier said sweeping his most over the top bow. “I am afraid I cannot stay, and shall have to part from your delightful company.”

“Is Nilfguaard not looking for you,” Yennefer said cooly. 

“They’ve yet to find me.”

“Yet,” Yennefer said. “Isn’t good enough.” 

“If they find you they’ll know our secrets,” Geralt said. That hurt. Jaskier would rather die. That Geralt thought Jaskier would give him up, even if they hadn’t parted as friends, stung like salt in an already gaping wound.

“Jaskier you have to come with us,” Ciri said, dragging on his hand. “Please I’ve seen so few people I know come with us.” He couldn’t resist that. He was strong but not that strong. He looked to Geralt hesitantly.

Geralt wouldn’t want him along. He was a shit shoveler and a burden who would only eat their food and make them move slower. But as Geralt had pointed out, Nilfguaard wanted him dead too. They could just kill him here and now. Geralt could have his life’s blessing, but he wouldn’t because he was a good man.

Geralt nodded. “Come,” he said in that rough rumble that Jaskier had missed. 

He was coming along. But this time was going to be different. Jaskier wouldn’t be a nuisance or a burden. He wouldn’t talk too much, or get into trouble. He wouldn’t use up rations. He wouldn’t complain. Jaskier set his teeth like steel agains words falling out and nodded. 

They slept that night in the forest. It was cold and winter was reaching icy tendrils towards them. Yennefer had a magical tent, but it could only sleep two. She and Ciri claimed it and Jaskier could see why. Yennefer was strong as always but her posture drooped sometimes. She was exhausted. Jaskier had heard of the battle at Sodden, and could only image. Ciri of course needed somewhere warm to sleep. Geralt and Jaskier just pitched tents on either side of the fire. 

Jaskier hadn’t eaten with them that night, telling them instead that he’d eaten earlier. 

He hadn’t, and his stomach burbled unhappily as he set his tent, but he hummed low so that Geralt wouldn’t hear it. Between risking annoying Geralt and using rations that the others needed, Jaskier would be annoying. It hurt to think of though.

His one man tent was little more than cloth draped between some sticks, but it could be folded up and it was light. He’d patched it so much that it looked like a quilt, but it would keep some of the rain off. He glanced at the moon, almost totally obscurred by clouds. It looked like rain. 

Ciri begged for a song and a story but he told her he was too tired.

It was partially true. He hadn’t been eating well lately, preferring to drink his meals, and he’d been walking for days, but he was never too tired to perform, simply too wary of fraying Geralt’s nerves.

It did rain that night, and the pitiful tent dripped freezing water onto him, and the ground was cold and damp and he woke up soaked and shivering before dawn.

No one was up. That was rare, Geralt slept like a tree. As in, he didn’t. Half winks and meditation were most of his sleep schedule, the occasional deep sleep left him snoring and out for at least nine hours, but Jaskier had seen that perhaps a dozen times in twenty years. 

Now, though, the mosring was still and the light was dim, causing grey shadows to lurk on the edge of vision, and yet somehow it wasn’t ominous. His body ached and he was cold. Not a patch on him wasn’t damp and clammy, and an acorn or a rock had dug into his back all night. 

Regardless, he packed up his tent and gear, changing into some, only mildly dryer, clothes, and then he went in search of firewood. 

Jaskier had to stray much farther from the camp than he would have liked to find dry wood, but he found enough to soon have a small fire crackling merrily. He’d even found some berries he recognized for breakfast. If he foraged now, he wouldn’t eat the much needed rations.

Geralt crawled out of his tent and hummed appreciatively at the fire. That felt good. Jaskier had done something right. Not a burden.

“Look at all this fog, Geralt. Like a blanket don’t you think?” Jaskier said, poking the fire into a better arrangement. “Reminds me of that time we...” He trailed off. Geralt was scowling, face like a thundercloud and eyes like lightening. Jaskier hadn’t seen that much anger on a face since...

The mountain. 

Right.

And here he was prattling on right after he told himself he wouldn’t be a burden.

“Well, you remember,” he finished lamely. Did Geralt remember? The fog in the glen, when they’d crawled from their bedrolls into a morning made of clouds? If he did remember, did he remember it fondly? Jaskier had spent most of the day coming up with rhymes for fog and bugging Geralt for his opinions.

Another time he was a nuisance, probably. 

Jaskier huddled in on himself, wrapping his worn traveling cloak tighter around his shoulders. The berries really hadn’t been enough, and he wondered if he should have some of the horrible traveler’s loaf from his pack. He decided to save it. If he could wait until lunch, or better yet dinner, the food would last longer. Less of a burden.

He wanted to play his lute, the sexy girl had been languishing for days now, but his fingers were too cold and stiff to play. And he’d annoy Geralt. Even worse, he might wake Ciri from her much-needed sleep. 

He pulled his girl out anyway, not to play, but he carefully tended to the strings, plucking each quietly once or twice to check the tension, then he brought out his cloth and carefully waxed and polished the wood.

It wasn’t unusual for a good lute to last twenty years. But twenty years on the road through dust and mud and rain was different. Constant care and an oilskin cover were his saviors. It might not have been worth it for any other instrument, but this was Filavandrel’s lute. Somehow it seemed like the only instrument worthy of singing about the White Wolf. 

He put it away.

He didn’t sing about the White Wolf much, since the mountain. He didn’t want to break his own heart again every night, and a low profile had been to his advantage. 

Somehow though, it made him sad, and he thought of Professor Fredegar, the master of poetry at Oxenfurt, or he had been.

Fredegar had been an old man. He looked like he’d been made out of parchment and had somehow ingrown his clothes, like a turtle in a shell of thick woolen sweaters. He had been quiet and his hands shook, and Jaskier had liked him. He’d been kind and had wonderful stories to tell if a student came to his dusty office and sat with him a while.

There had always been something sad in the back of those pale eyes, though.

He’d been a great poet, still was, but in his prime he’d written the Saga of the Flame, a trilogy of epic poetry. The stories individually in the saga were well known about the Continent, but the whole tale... 

The first part told of a young man, engaged to his blind ady love, but without money for marriage so he traveled to foreign places. Many smaller adventures were had and the first book was pretty jolly. 

The second book was him seeking fame along with fortune, and forgetting his lady love for the sake of his pride, wanting someone grander than a blind village girl. Then he lost a battle of wits and was greatly humbled. 

The third book found the man stumbling home, getting lost along the way. He returned to his village almost twenty years after he’d left, and his love had died, succumbing alone and uncared for to a return of the illness that had cost her her sight in her youth.

It was a true tragedy, and one that didn’t advertise itself as such until the last moment. It hooked a reader into emotions so deep they could drown. And there was a quality, something heavy in the story, that told Jaskier that at least some of it was real. He would look at Fredagar, sometimes, the way his eyes were so sad and faraway, and think about how the man had written a masterpiece and retired in barely middle age, rarely writing more than a sonnet here and there. There was a harp hung on the wall of pale wood, like that of the man in the saga, but Fredagar never touched it.

And then the man had died. He’d been one hundred and two, according to the chancellor of the university. He was buried by maybe a dozen faculty members and half as many students. And Jaskier had stood there, on that bright summer day at the graveside, and sworn that he wouldn’t live his life inside a university, to be buried and mourned by no family or friends besides some half-grateful students.

Yet, lately, it didn’t seem so bad. 

He’d finished Her Sweet Kiss, and it was a true hit. He’d raised the reputation of Geralt, and witcher’s as a whole. Whatever happened, Jaskier’s name would be remembered forever. He could retire. Put Filavandrel’s lute in a glass case in a tiny office and teach ungrateful, hungover brats about meter for the rest of his life. It sounded nice, in a way. To settle down, and leave all thoughts of witchers and monsters and magic and wars behind him.

He couldn’t though. He’d been dragged into this and he’d have to see it through.

His stomach burbled unhappily and he glanced over at Geralt to see if he’d caught it. The witcher was staring at the ground, glowering like he would turn it into ash if he could. 

Then he looked up and caught Jaskier’s gaze.

Jaskier was too slow to avoid pale gold irises, but looked away anyway. Geralt crossed to him from around the fire, boots crunching on leaves and frost.

Don’t break my heart again. Jaskier thought. I’m trying.

Geralt placed a hand like an anvil on Jaskier’s shoulder and he looked up.

“Ciri is glad you are here,” Geralt said. Then he continued to Yennefer’s tent to wake them up.

Ciri is glad, Jaskier could read between the lines. I will tolerate you for her sake. She is glad you are here. I am not.

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No! You dumb boy! Geralt means ‘I am very glad you are here but so is Ciri and I’m a grumpy fuck with the emotional intelligence of a mollusk!’ 

Anyway, here it is at last. Still gets more whumpy before it gets better.

[clanoffetts]

someday. | paz vizsla x fem!reader

Chapter III

masterlist

synopsis: Paz Vizsla finds himself stuck on Dantooine with a broken ship and no credits. Luckily, he finds you, a mechanic that will fix his ship for passage to Hosnian Prime. Over the course of your time together, a courtship blossoms.

warnings/things to note: swearing; reader has hints of PTSD that will be expanded on in further chapters (and those will be tagged with stronger warnings); no use of ‘Y/N’; my fc for Paz is Winston Duke, I don’t describe Paz too much at the moment, but just know that’s who I picture!

word count: 6.4k

karyai - main living room of the covert - a big chamber for talking, resting, and even the last secure stronghold when under attack.

ba’vodu - uncle/aunt

-

The birds of Yavin IV’s song was calming as you came into full consciousness. The sleep from the night before was much needed, and very refreshing. You opened your eyes and looked to where Paz had been before you’d fallen asleep. He wasn’t there. Neither was your sleep mask. “Kriff!” You flung your body onto your right side, looking away from Paz’s side of the bed.  

Shit. Shit. Shit. You’d told him you wouldn't look. Hell, you told him it was impossible for you to look. And here you are, no mask over your eyes. What if he’d been there? After all the time you’d spent convincing him to share the bed with you, that it’d be safe. Sure, you hadn’t actually seen him, but the possibility frightened you. You couldn’t violate him like that, even if it was an accident. You couldn’t live with yourself. 

A few minutes of deep breathing later, you got out of bed, and headed into the ‘fresher. You wanted so badly to take another shower, to relax under the water, but you knew it was important to save water, not sure if the covert had water to spare for your journey. You’d have to be content with washing your face and pretending. 

You stared in the mirror, into your own eyes. You replayed the night before: the vibroblade that now sat with your stuff, the idea of Paz taking you to his home and meeting his family, learning his traditions. The pure bliss you were in as you fell asleep, and then the violent jerk of the morning’s close call. Your eyes were no longer as tired as they had been when you’d looked at yourself last night. 

You threw on jeans and a shirt, and finally left the safety of the ‘fresher. Would Paz be mad about the mask coming off? He was so hesitant as it was, you were terrified that this would push him away, make him realize that there’s too much risk in a relationship with a non-Mando. 

“Kebiin’ika?” Paz called as he heard the door to the bedroom open. 

“Yeah?”

He stood up and met you halfway between the room and the common area. “How’d you sleep?” He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a half hug before leading you to the table you’d sat at the night before.

“Pretty good,” you said, taking a seat. “Paz?” He hummed and sat down a bowl of some type of porridge in front of you. “Are you mad at me?”

The helmet snapped up to look at you. “Why would I be mad? If you think you broke the towel rack in the ‘fresher, you haven’t. It’s always been like that.”

“No, Paz,” you said. “About the sleep mask. It came off last night. I’m so sorry, I thought it would stay on. I’m not really a wild sleeper so I don’t know how it happened, but I understand if you’re mad at me-”

“Kebiin’ika,” he says, cutting you off. You suck in a big breath, not realizing how long you’d been rambling. “It’s not that big of a deal to me, it was an accident. You didn’t see my face, right?” 

You nodded. “Right.”

“See? No creeds broken,” he says. He can tell you’re still a little shaken up, and moves to lay his large, gloved hand over your small one. “If I didn’t trust you, mesh’la, I would’ve slept on the cot. I knew the mask came off when I woke up this morning, but I trust you enough that I know you wouldn’t use the opportunity of me being asleep to look, even on accident.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you swear you could hear a smile on his face. “Are you sure? I know I didn’t see anything this time, but I would understand if you want me to take the cot from now on.” He ushered you closer to him, his arm around you. It was a bit awkward with all his armor and clothes, but the heart was there. “Kebiin’ika,” he said. “I’m comfortable with sleeping the way we did last night as long as you are. I’m not worried.”

You sighed, leaning into him. The beskar was cold and you just wanted to feel him, his warm skin. “Ok,” you say. “If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable.”

“Good,” he replies. “Now, why don’t you finish eating while I call the covert. Tell them that I’ll be there shortly to pick up some of our supplies, ok?”

You nodded, and he let you out of his embrace. While spooning the food into your mouth, you watched him at the hull, punching some numbers into his gauntlet and then speaking in what you assumed was Mando’a. It was such a beautiful language, especially coming from Paz’s mouth. And he spoke it with a pride in his voice that he didn’t have when speaking Basic. 

“Alright, mesh’la,” he said as you got to the bottom of the bowl. “I’ll be back soon, no more than two hours.”

“Two hours?”

“Yes, two hours,” he laughed. “It may be sooner, but you never know. Mandalorians take a long time to say goodbye.”

You smiled at him. “Alright, have fun,” you say.

“Oh, I will,” he replies. You watched as the mountain of blue beskar exited the ship and mounted the speeder the two of you rode the day before. A lot has changed since then, you thought. Before you knew it, Paz Vizsla was gone and a dirt cloud took his place.

-

Paz’s ride back to his home didn’t take too long at all. And when he arrived, he spotted Din and Grogu on some rocks outside the entrance. 

“C’mon, Grogu,” Din is saying. “You can do it.” Grogu sat on a rock opposite Din, with his eyes closed. In Din’s hand was Grogu’s beskar ball. Grogu and his ball were inseparable. 

As Paz dismounted and began walking towards the hangar, Grogu’s eyes shot open and he let out an excited shriek. Paz didn’t speak fifty-year-old-toddler, but he figured it was something along the lines of “ba’vodu!”. 

Din turned around, too, and stood. He picked up his little foundling and greeted Paz half way. “How was your evening?”

“Nice,” Paz says. “Yours?”

Din nods. “Mine was ok, but I don’t have a pretty mechanic in my room like you do.”

Paz rolled his eyes. “Din, it’s not like that.” 

Grogu made a sound of protest. “Hm,” Din said. “My Jedi son seems to think differently. He’s never wrong about these things…” Din teases. 

Paz stops just as they’re about to open the blast doors. “Din, Grogu,” Paz says. “Just between us?”

“Just between us,” Din says, and Grogu babbles. 

Paz sighed, was he really doing this? He was. “We’re courting.”

“I knew it!” Din exclaims, and Grogu laughs. “I knew it, Paz. So what’d you give her?”

Paz patted the empty sheath. “Vibroblade.”

“Classic,” Din says. “What will you propose marriage with? Something of her homeworld’s tradition? Or wait and exchange blades that Armorer makes?”

Paz shakes his head, and he’s smiling beneath his bucket. “Maker, Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Though he figured it’d be blades. You didn’t seem too fond of being reminded of Alderaan. “But I’ll put your name in if we need a wedding planner.”

“You better,” Din replies. “Armorer will want to know, too.”

Paz nodded. “I know. I’m not sure I’ll tell her this time. I don’t want word getting out.”

“She won’t tell anyone, you know that.”

“I know, but still,” Paz said, finally punching in the code and opening the doors. “But we’ve got a covert of eavesdroppers.”

There was a child tending to one of his chores just inside, and as soon as he spotted Paz, he practically lunged at him. “Paz!”

“Hey, ad’ika,” Paz says, taking the young kid up onto one of his arms. “I didn’t get to see you yesterday!”

“I know,” he said. “My buir had me at home practicing math. Math! Can you believe it?”

Paz laughed. “Knowing your buir? Yes, yes I can.” 

The group walked further inside the winding the halls of the covert, adding new people to their crew as they saw them. Eventually they reached the karyai, and everyone got comfortable on the many cushions, chairs, and sofas littered about the room.

Paz stayed standing. “Sorry, everyone,” he said when he noticed their disappointment that he wasn’t going to be there long. “But I’ve got my end of a deal to hold up, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.” Paz noticed that at the mention of a her, helmets turned to the side, looking at each other, silently gossiping. 

“Then come in here, Paz,” Armorer says, at the doorway to her forge. “And we’ll discuss what you need.” 

Paz obeyed, making his way through all the Mandalorians relaxing in the karyai. He closed the door behind him, and sat at Armorer’s table. “We’ve compiled some things for your journey,” she says. “It’s not much, but it’s what we have. It’s in the hangar, I’m sure Clan Djarin would be happy to assist you in taking it back to your ship.”

“I’m sure it’s more than enough,” Paz replies. “Thank you, Armorer.”

She nodded. “Now, how happy was your mechanic at being left on the ship for so long yesterday?” 

Paz could hear her smirk. “She got bored. Wasn’t there when I got back,” he said. “I almost lost my mind, but she was just in the little town, shopping.”

Armorer let out a soft chuckle. “And you’re trying to tell everyone you aren’t smitten? Maker, Vizsla, I’d think you’d be better with convincing by now.”

Paz sighed. “You’d think.” 

Armorer’s stare bore into him. For Mandalorians, it usually wasn’t intimidating when another looked at you through their visor. It was normal. But Armorer’s presence was different, she was intimidating. “Where is your vibroblade?” 

Kriff. “It’s right here,” he said, patting the sheath on his left side, where his second vibroblade sat. 

“No, not that one,” she said. “The one I forged for you when you donned your helmet. I swear you had it yesterday.”

Well, he might as well tell her at this point. She wouldn’t believe that he’d lost it, this blade had Mandalorian and Vizsla carvings in it, he rarely used it in combat. “Don’t tell anyone this,” Paz said. “I want it to be a secret for now, ok?”

She nodded. 

“I gave it to her. The mechanic.”

Armorer sucked in a breath so sharp that her vocoder picked it up. “As a courtship proposal?” Paz nodded. “I wish you both many blessings, many warriors,” she said. Paz didn’t know if you wanted warriors, but Armorer’s blessings were traditional, and carried a lot of weight.

“Thank you, Armorer,” he replies. “I will pass along the message.”

“If you two are courting, then why didn’t you bring her here? Are you still going on your journey?”

Paz nodded. “She has unfinished business in the Hosnian system,” he didn’t tell her what business. It wasn’t his place, and Armorer understood. “We’ll be back, though I’m not sure when.”

“Long hyperspace travel will be good for your relationship.” Armorer entered counselor mode. “Building trust and love.”

Paz always felt a bit awkward when she became a psychologist. So he just nodded. “Anyways, you said the supplies were in the hangar?” 

She nodded. “Take care of her, Paz,” she said. They both stood. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Paz repeated. 

Paz exited the Armorer’s workshop. Back in the karyai, some people had gone back to their rooms or to tend to their duties, but many still sat around. “Din?” Paz said to his friend.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t happen to know where Bezza is, do you?”

Din nodded. “Last I saw she was in one of the sparring rooms.” Paz thanked him and headed off down one of the long corridors towards the training rooms. 

All the sparring room doors were open except one. Paz opened it gently, and looked inside. Bezza wielded the beskar staff Din had brought back with him. She was sparring with a reprogrammed droid, the only one in the covert. Paz watched with pride as she jabbed at the droid, careful not to hurt it too much. There were still children that would need to learn from sparring with the machine. 

As she landed a final blow, the droid declared her the winner, and she backed off. Paz clapped from his place at the door. “That was very impressive,” he said. “You’ve gotten used to the armor quite well.”

“Paz!” She dropped the staff and walked towards her friend. “No one told me you were here.” 

“That’s probably best,” Paz said. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to not repeat it, ok?”

Bezza nodded. “Ok. But if you tried to bring a Loth-cat in again, I’m not making any promises.”

Paz laughed. “It’s not a Loth-cat. It’s about my girl.”

“Your girl?”

Paz nodded. “We’re courting.” 

Bezza threw her arms around her ba’vodu. “Paz that’s wonderful!” Their beskar sang as he patted Bezza on the back. When she finally let go she said, “Are you guys staying here? When do you think you’ll marry? I know Mandalorian courtships tend to not last long, but she’s not a Mandalorian so-”

Paz cut off her rambling by saying, “I don’t know. Like I told Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Bezza laughed. “Of course you haven’t. How many people have you told, Paz? You know if you tell the wrong person, your courtship will be the topic at many dinner tables tonight.”

“I know,” Paz replied. “Only you, Din, and Armorer know.”

“Ok,” she said. “So I take it you’re not going to stay here?”

Paz shook his head. “We’re off to Hosnian Prime as soon as I get back with the supplies.” Somehow, Paz could sense Bezza’s disappointment. He wanted so badly to be there for her, help her through her losses, but he’d made a promise to you. A Mandalorian’s honor was their everything. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be there, but we’ll be coming back here. Maybe even to stay.”

“What’s even on Hosnian Prime?”

Paz sighed. He wanted to tell her, to give her a detailed reason so maybe she felt better. But, again, it wasn’t his place. “She has some business to take care of, Bez.”

She nodded, somewhat satisfied. “Can I walk with you to the hangar?” Paz nodded and they left the sparring room. All the way there, Bezza asked questions in typical teenage fashion. What’s her name? What’s she like? What color is her hair? And Paz answered them all. He figured you wouldn’t mind, and they weren’t too personal. All her questions reminded Paz of just how young she was. Other Mandalorians would understand not to ask those questions, just as Bezza would, in time. 

In the hangar were Din and Grogu and that kriffing ball. Din had already loaded the speeder bikes with the fuel and food, and was now just killing time with his son. “Din!” Paz called. “I’m just about ready.”

Paz turned to Bezza. “When I get back we’ll start a plan for your training. There’s still a lot to get used to in the armor, especially with the jetpack.”

“Ok,” she said. “Hurry back, alright? And be safe!” Paz and Bezza exchanged a few more goodbyes, and he promised to pass on her hello to you. 

Finally, Paz and Din had mounted the speeder bikes. Grogu sat in a carrier on Din’s chest, obviously excited to feel the wind whip around his long ears. The men had unspokenly made it a race, revving their engines and attempting to pass each other without knocking their cargo loose. 

-

You sat outside the ship, taking in the fresh air as the Mandalorians arrived in a cloud of dust, Mando’a, and a baby’s shriek. A baby? You thought. 

You got on your feet and approached the speeders. To your surprise, the Mandalorian in unpainted beskar greeted you by name. Quite a lot kinder than the stare he’d met you with when you’d first arrived. “Hello,” you said. “It’s nice to meet you.” Then your eyes finally dropped from the helmet to the carrier on his chest. “Who’s this?” 

“My son,” the Mando said. “His name is Grogu.”

You smiled at the baby. “Hello, Grogu,” you said, and introduced yourself to him. Grogu’s tiny little arms reached out for you, and with Mando's permission, you picked him up. “You’re a tiny little thing, aren’t you, Grogu?” He babbled excitedly. 

The two of you stood back as Din and Paz began loading the supplies onto the ship. “Your dad is very strong, Grogu,” you tell him as Din lifts a large crate off the bike and into the cargo hold. “Are you going to be strong like him?” Grogu gives you a strong response. This kid has to be a handful, you thought. Grogu stayed gripped onto you, his three little fingers wrapped around your one, gurgling and babbling like he made all the sense in the world. You, of course, humored him, and had a deep conversation about the inflation of credits as the shift from Imperial credits to New Republic credits took place. 

Eventually, the men were done, the ship was loaded and refueled. “Alright, Grogu,” you say. “I think your dad will be wanting you back.” You placed a kiss to the top of his odd green head, and attempted to hand him over to the Mando. Grogu had other ideas. His fingers stayed gripped on the back of your t-shirt. 

“Grogu,” Din said. “We have to go. Come on.”

You laughed at the little baby, amazed at how he’d become so attached to you in such little time. “Go on, hon,” you coax. “Your uncle and I will be back soon, I promise.” His big, dark eyes looked up at you, and then he allowed you to pass his little body to his father, who fastened him into the carrier. 

“Safe travels, you two,” Mando said, and attached the bike Paz rode to his own, and him and Grogu were off. 

Finally, you were able to give Paz a hug. “Ready, kebiin’ika?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Let me call Leia before we go,” you say. “I forgot to this morning.”

“Ok, I’ll be waiting in the cockpit whenever you’re ready.” He turned around and disappeared onto the ship. 

You held the holoprojector in front of you, anxious. Surely Leia would want to see you, right? After all your time together…

You sat the projector on a rock and sat down in front of it. You punched in the numbers Leia had sent you a while ago, and waited. Finally, a young girl answered. “May I ask who is calling?” You told her your name. “And who are you calling for?”

“Leia,” you said, and then cringed. “Uh, her royal highness.” You’d never really grasped the royal protocol. 

The girl looked closely. “Is the princess expecting you?”

“Uh, not really,” you said. “But we fought in the Rebellion together. She gave me this number, told me to call if I needed her.”

The girl nodded, and walked out of frame. Hopefully, she’d return with Leia. She did return, but no princess in sight. “Her royal highness will meet with you shortly.” And then she was gone again. 

You sat looking around at the trees, taking in your last minutes on a planet for some time. And even when you got to Hosnian Prime, it would be way different. Hosnian Prime was busy, unlike Dantooine and Yavin IV. 

“Finally!” said a voice. Leia’s. She stood in holo form on the rock, an elegant white dress covered her form and her hair was in two braids down her shoulders. “I’ve been wondering when I’d hear from you.”

“Leia!” you exclaimed. “I’ve wanted to call, but you know how I felt when the war was won…I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.”

She frowned. “Oh, stop that,” she said. “I’ll always want to hear from you. I’m sorry it took me so long to get on the line, Korrie is quite protective of me.” 

“I understand,” you smiled. “You are a very important person, your royal highness.”

Leia laughed. “Now, what did I tell you back on Alderaan about formal titles?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a normal person when you’re with me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I take it you’re a bit exhausted with decorum at the moment?”

She nodded. “And it doesn’t help that Threepio is the decorum police, either.” The two of you shared a laugh at the droid’s expense. You didn’t know how Leia could stand C-3PO all the time. “Enough with my complaining, are you ok? Is there something you need?”

“Well, I was calling to see if you’d receive me on Hosnian?” you asked. “I want to catch up with you, maybe even a few friends from the old days?”

Leia smiled. “Of course I’ll receive you! When are you leaving? And where from?”

“Yavin IV,” you say. “And hopefully as soon as I hang up with you, if that’s ok?”

She nodded. “That’d be great. I’ll have Korrie send you the coordinates. I can’t wait to see you!” Leia had a way of making anyone feel comfortable, and you couldn’t wait to be in her full presence again. You exchanged goodbyes, and Leia disappeared from the rock. 

Back on the ship, you grabbed a fruit bar from the kitchen and sat in the cockpit. “How was your princess?” Paz asked as he copied the coordinates from your holopad. 

“Good,” you replied. “I had no reason to be anxious, really.”

Paz put a gloved hand over yours on the armrest. “I’m glad it’s working out, mesh’la.” 

“What’s that word mean? You’ve been calling me that all day.”

His thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. “It means ‘beautiful’,” he says. 

“Mesh’la,” you repeat. “It’s a beautiful word, no wonder it means beautiful.” Paz chuckled a little at your awe. 

His hand left yours and landed on the controls. “Ready to head out?” You nodded, mouth too full to properly respond, and the take off sequence was activated. The ship rose out of the clearing, and you watched as Yavin IV grew smaller beneath you. You saw a building off in the distance, it looked half underground, with a large hangar at the front. 

“Is that your home?” you ask, pointing out at the structure. 

Paz nodded. “Indeed it is,” he says. 

“That was part of the Rebel base once,” you say, remembering your time here. “I didn’t spend too much time on that part, though. There was a main hangar a little farther down, but after the war Leia had a lot of it removed, so the wildlife could return to normal,” you say. “Guess not all of it was taken.”

The ship finally reached the atmosphere and Paz guided the ship through it with grace. The jump to hyperspace was made, and the ship was on autopilot for the next three days. 

Paz turned to you in his chair. “We live in a rebel base now?”

“Indeed you do,” you say. “I think a lot of that building was quarters for officers and stuff. I’ll bet Leia can tell you when we arrive.”

“You want me to come with you to meet her?”

You looked at him, a little confused. “Of course I do,” you tell him. “I don’t know how long I’ll be there and I’m sure that a princess has room to spare. Besides, it’ll do you some good to sleep on a proper bed for a few nights.”

“Are you sure, kebiin’ika? Mandalorians aren’t greeted too kindly.”

“Maybe not in the Outer Rim,” you say. “But that far into the Core? And a guest of Princess Leia’s? I’m sure it'll be ok.”

He nodded. “Ok, then. I’ll come with you.” You smiled at him, wishing so badly to smile at his face and not his helmet. You took his hand in yours, stood up, and led him to the little common area. There was a small sofa pushed against one of the walls, and you motioned for him to sit. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and retreat back to the cockpit. When you return, Paz is sat on the sofa, still as can be. It was still a little creepy, how he could just sit there. You held up your holopad. “First thing to know about dating me is I need designated snuggle and holodrama time.”

He laughed. “Is this a common thing or just a kebiin’ika thing?” 

You sat down next to him, a little confused that he was wondering if cuddling and watching holos was common. “Am I your first girlfriend, Paz?”

“If I say yes will you think I’m weird?”

“No, I won’t think you’re weird.”

“Then yes,” he said. You looked at him, feeling a wave of sadness. Had this man been cuddled ever? Hugged? Loved? You cared for him so much already, and you wanted him to feel those things. 

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s a me thing, but it’s an important thing,” you laugh, setting the holopad up to project against the blank wall of the ship. A show about a Jedi and a Twi’lek healer’s unrequited love played on the wall, a slight silver hue brought by the metal of the ship. You moved to cuddle against him, but the armor was stubborn.

“Could you, like, take some of this off?” You say, gesturing at the metal.

He feigned surprise. “You haven’t even taken me out, mesh’la, and you expect me to strip?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just lose some of it so I can cuddle you.” He obeyed, the cuirass and pauldrons going first, and then the gauntlets and gloves. He was left in his fly suit, made of a coarse weave fabric. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would do. You moved his arm around you as you settled into his chest. You could tell he wasn’t too sure what to do. “You’re warm,” you sigh.

“Sorry, mesh’la,” he says.

“Why are you sorry? It’s nice. Hyperspace gets cold,” you tell him. He was a little tense at first, he wasn’t used to this, he really hadn’t been properly cuddled since before he lost his buire so long ago. 

Paz looked down at you, your head resting against him as you took in the predictable plot of the show. You were relaxed, almost like earlier that morning when he’d woken up. The mask had been gone, and your eyes had gently fluttered in your sleep. Paz felt a tightness in his chest, a feeling he’d been having a lot since you’ve been around. It’s gotten more and more intense, especially as you curled yourself into him. Your touch was burning into his skin in an amazing way, and he knew he’d be able to feel it long after you’d get up. He repeated your it’s nice in his head. No one had ever told him that touching him was nice. In fact, most people hated the touch of a Mandalorian. If they even lived to hate it. 

As the drama went to an ad for some kind of Bantha milk, Paz felt you move to look up at him. “Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you can’t tell me what your Mando friend looks like under his helmet,” you say. “But can you tell me how he fits his ears in the helmet?”

Paz laughed. “What?”

“Well, if his ears are anything like his son’s, I’d imagine it’s hard.”

He threw his head back in a bellow of laughter. “Mesh’la, my friend and his son aren’t the same species. Grogu is a foundling.”

“A foundling?”

He finally recovered from his laughter, and his breath steadied. “Yeah, Mandalorians take in children who’ve lost their parents. My friend was a foundling once, and his son is a foundling.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well that explains the ears, I guess. You weren’t a foundling were you?” You remembered him saying something about Vizslas being important on Mandalore. 

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “The Vizsla line goes as far back into Mandalorian history as I can trace. But most importantly, Tarre Vizsla, who was a Jedi, created the Darksaber. Whoever wields the dark saber is the Mand’alor, our ruler.”

“Who is the Mand’alor now?” you ask. 

He shakes his head. “There isn’t one. Mandalore isn’t the same as it was, it hasn’t been in a very long time. Before I was born, even.”

“Well, you’re a Vizsla aren’t you? Shouldn’t you wield it?”

He laughs a little. “That’s not exactly how it works, mesh’la. Well, it worked like that for a while, but now you must win the saber in combat. Except no one knows where the saber is.” His voice had gotten sad, and he was running his right hand over his left while they sat on your back, some kind of self-soothing. “Besides,” he says, “There’s a lot of Vizslas out there I’m sure, and I don’t want to be a king. That is not the path that I follow.”

“I understand. It all becomes...a bit much,” you agree. Leia had offered you multiple positions on multiple committees in the new Senate, all dealing with labor laws and droids with a bunch of political nonsense you didn’t care to wade through. Not to mention having to represent the voice of mechanics all over the galaxy. No. Too much stress. 

“Kebiin’ika,” Paz says. “As much as I like this old, lumpy sofa, don’t you think we’d be more comfy laying in bed?” 

“I’m starting to think you’re a mind reader, Vizsla,” you say. The two of you awkwardly untangle in a mess of limbs and beskar clangs as you accidentally collide with his cuirass that lay on the floor. “Sorry,” you say, moving his armor up onto the sofa and off of the floor. 

“Don’t be,” he reassured. “Beskar is practically invincible.”

The two of you made it into the bedroom, you set your holopad up properly to project onto the blank white wall ahead of the bed, there for this reason exactly. The show was brighter now, and clearer. It was technically late afternoon by Yavin IV time, but in hyperspace it was hard to tell. Paz got rid of the armor on his lower body, the codpiece, thighs and knees, and shins. He also kicked off his boots. 

He looked so beautifully mundane. Doing something that he’d done a million times at this point, probably, and he was an expert. Could do with his eyes closed. And you loved it, you wondered if his brow furrowed under the helmet when he had to prod a clasp a little harder, or if he let out a soft huff when a piece was finally removed. 

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for you to sit between his legs. Kriff, his legs were big. 

You settled between his legs, back against his chest. His hands sat awkwardly on his thighs. “You know you can touch me, right?” you say, moving his hands to lay around your middle. 

“I have to remind myself, mesh’la,” he says. “You’re not a quick fuck. You’re someone I want to be slow with, I’m just not sure how to go about it.” You were a bit surprised at how blunt he was, but honestly? You appreciated it. He wouldn’t be playing games with you. 

You squeezed his hand. “We will go however slow as you want, alright? And don’t be afraid of me, ok? You can ask me anything.” 

“I know, cyare, and I’m grateful for that,” he says softly. He wanted to kiss the top of your head so bad. He’d seen it in holos before, but never really understood the appeal until now. 

At some point, you’d fallen asleep in the Mandalorian’s arms. It wasn’t until an hour later that he woke you up. “Kebiin’ika?” He’s whispering as much as the vocoder will let him. His voice is deep in your ear, and briefly becomes a part of your dream until you finally wake up. 

“How long was I out?” You ask, sitting up and stretching your arms out in front of you. 

He stood up, stretching his arms, too. “About an hour, I think. I dozed a bit, too.” 

“I’m hungry,” you complain. He agrees, and you’re off to the kitchen. You start making sandwiches with a few of the vegetables you knew he’d bought back on Dantooine. You smiled at them, filled with a bit of nostalgia. That greenhouse of Aliria’s was always a peaceful place. 

Paz is doing the same, though he’s making two sandwiches. You presume it’s because he’s such a large man, and such a strong man too. When you had relaxed into his chest, he was comfortable, a layer of fat that told you he took care of himself, and underneath you knew were strong, hardened muscles. 

“Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to sit with our backs to each other?” you ask. “So we can eat together instead of in shifts?” He nods, finishing up his sandwiches. You grab your plates and make your way to the sofa. He moves his armor back onto the floor a bit clumsily, and has to remind you that beskar is strong. He’s facing to the right, you to the left, backs together. 

“You can lean back on me, cyare,” he says, and you smile at the switch of the nickname. It was kind of nice, not knowing which endearment would envelop you when he opened his mouth. You hear a click and hiss, sounds you’d heard the night before, and then the clunk of his helmet on the ship’s floor. 

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” he says between bites. “Armorer and Bezza said to tell you hello.”

You remembered who Armorer was, but your brow furrowed, trying to recall where you’d heard the second name. “Bezza is the girl who you bought the journal for, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind my telling her about us. I’m the closest thing she has to family at the moment.”

You smile. “Of course it’s alright, Paz,” you say. “I’d love to meet her. She sounds very sweet.”

Paz felt a wave of joy rush over him. Bezza was very special to him, even more so now. And now you were special to him, too, and he wanted nothing more than for you two to get along. “If I would’ve known I would’ve brought her with me to the ship instead of my friend,” he said. He had to catch himself before saying Din’s name, knowing that Din was very particular about his name. Bezza, on the other hand, was a more modern Mando. “Maybe once I teach you to use that vibroblade, I can teach you how to wield a staff. Then you two could spar.”

“I don’t know, Paz,” you say. “I’m sure you’re a fantastic teacher, but I don��t see myself holding my own against a Mandalorian in combat.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll train you the Mandalorian way. One day, mesh’la, you will hold your own.”

A silence followed, you could hear the crunch of the chips he’d put in his sandwich as he bit. 

“Is Bezza your foundling now?”

Paz swallowed his bite. “Maybe if she was younger I’d take her in, but she’s practically an adult. I wouldn’t want to insult her by insinuating she still needs caring for.”

“Everyone needs caring for,” you say, leaning your head back against him. “I’m twenty-six and I need caring for, emotionally anyways. I’m not sure how old you are, but I’m sure you do, too.” 

He wasn’t at all shocked that you were twenty-six. He was, however, shocked that his age didn’t ever come up. “I’m forty-three,” he said, hoping that wouldn’t scare you. It didn’t seem to, so he continued. “And I guess you’re right, but still, I can care for her without taking her in.”

“I guess,” you said, and decided to let the topic of Bezza rest for a bit. “Do you think you’ll ever take in a foundling?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’d like to father some kids as well, but also take in foundlings. Not only is it important to the Tribe, but I love kids. That’s why I’m their teacher whenever I’m not out hunting.”

“That’s sweet, Paz,” you tell him. “I’d like a kid, too, I think. Though, it scares me. Making a person inside my body for almost a year.”

“Mandalorians say to train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger,” he says. “I’m sure you can see why. Having children is important, it’s even in the Mandalorian wedding vows: ‘we will raise warriors’.” 

You smile up at the ceiling, picturing you and Paz having a wedding. Some weird mix of Mandalorian and Alderaanian culture, exchanging Mandalorian vows. Maybe it was a bit early to be thinking about this, but you didn’t care. 

-

You watched as Paz cleaned the plates from lunch. He volunteered to take your plate, and now he stood at the sink, scrubbing away the residue of the condiments and components of your lunches. Again, he looked so beautifully mundane, gloves gone, revealing his dark skin to you. Through the bubbles of soap you saw small pink scars littering the top of his hands. He scrubbed away with the brush, working diligently. Again you wondered what kind of face he makes when he concentrates. Does he stick his tongue out a little? Bite on the inside of his lip? 

You thought back to the wedding you’d put together in your mind. You thought about how after those vows were exchanged you’d get to see the face he makes not only when he concentrates, but when he’s happy or frustrated, too. 

He was such a mystery, but also easy to read. It confused you in the best way possible, and all you wanted was to read chapter after chapter of Paz Vizsla until you got to the part where you’d get to see his face, kiss his face, talk to his eyes rather than a visor. Someday, you told yourself. Someday. 

tag list (send me an ask or reply and i’ll add you!!) - @remmysbounty

[doyumacy]

FALLOUT |LH| THREE

gif not mine

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of taeyong. swearing, blood (i’ll let you know when there are parts with blood mentions), smut (let you know), violence, angst

WORD COUNT: 2,7K

ONE TWO THREE FOUR

“Thank you for meeting me at a late hour,” said the man in front of Donghyuck.

“Sure, no problem,” Donghyuck nodded. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I saw you’re getting along with my daughter, and before you say something I saw you two getting along pretty girl this morning,” he looked at him.” And to be honest, I don't care how you do your work, but I needed to remind you why I hired you,” your father stared at him.

“I haven’t forgotten it, sir. I’m going at my own pace, besides it would be very suspicious to kill her right after I spend 12 hours with her a day,” Donghyuck let him know. “I’ll get the job done. You don't have to worry.”

“I do worry though,” your father placed a hand on his chin. “She’s supposed to meet with the Prime Minister in 2 months. I’m sure he’ll work with her, I mean, the UN is doing so, why wouldn't he as well?

“I don’t care what you have to do. I want her dead. She’s getting bigger and bigger and stealing my best clients,” he groaned. “This is my business and she suddenly thinks she can come over and take what’s mine? No. Get fucking rid of her.”

Donghyuck nodded. “I will.”

…

After another long week, you decided to meet with Taeyong and Lena and have dinner with them since it had been so long since you saw them.

When you arrived at the restaurant, you turned to Donghyuck and smiled kindly to him, “you can go now. Take the night off. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I should leave you here alone,” Donghyuck said to you.

“I’m not alone, Taeyong’s bodyguards are here and Lena’s security team will stay as well,” You informed him. “I’m well secured.”

“I still don’t feel comfortable by leaving you,” he confessed.

You  grinned and put a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder, “I’ll be fine, Donghyuck. Really.”

Donghyuck looked at you directly in the eye for a couple of seconds and wished he could kiss you. He nodded, “fine, I’ll have my phone with me all night in case you need something.”

“Noted,” you smirked, “goodnight, Hyuck.”

“Hyuck?” Donghyuck beamed.

“Well, since you won't stop calling me ‘ma’am’ I decided to give you a nickname as well,” you shrugged.

“But ma’am is not a nickname…” Donghyuck looked at you.

“You don't want me to call you Hyuck?” you pouted.

“You can call me whatever you want, (Y/N)” He winked at you.

You bit your lip and smiled at him. “Maybe I will.”

Donghyuck smirked and turned, but before he started to walk, he turned again to you, “let me stay. I don't feel good leaving you here all alone.”

You pressed your lips for a moment and then nodded. “But you’re staying as my friend, not my bodyguard.”

“Deal.”

You didn't remember when was the last time you had fun and even got tipsy. A year ago maybe? You were not a bad drinker and you could take some shots with Lena, but not with Taeyong. His alcohol tolerance was so low.

By almost 1 am, you hugged your friends goodbye and Donghyuck had one arm around you as he half-carried, half-guided you to the car. Maybe you had more shots than the ones you could take.

"I signed up to be your bodyguard, not your designated driver." Donghyuck joked as he looked for the car keys inside his suit jacket.

"You could be both," You said slowly, having to put more effort into your words than usual since you were sloshed.

Donghyuck  laughed. "Maybe so, but I preferred just doing one."

"Heeeey, you could do the partner thing soon."

"I don't remember mentioning a partner thing."

You licked your lips as you tried to remember what the phrase he'd first used was. "Designated driver. Only, instead of just dragging me to a car, we'd be getting sloshed together."

"That does sound more fun,” he said as he helped you to get in the car and fasten the seat belt.

You smiled dumbly and looked at him. “Have I told you you’re gorgeous? God, I love your skin and oh! Your moles in your cheeks are beautiful, I wanna plant some kisses on them.”

"Thanks," he said, trying to hide his smile. "It's nice to be appreciated."

"In all my life, I've never met someone that made me feel like you do," You said, speaking a foreing language.

"I don't know what you just said, but I'm going to assume it was complimentary."

You nodded. You kissed Donghyuck's left cheek because it was there. "The prettiest thing I've ever seen."  

Donghyuck swallowed thickly. He didn't need to understand the language to know that whatever you said was something he would appreciate. The kiss sent tingles down his spine, and your mouth was still resting close enough to him that you could feel his breath hot against your skin. "As much as we would enjoy that, we need to stop. It’s not correct.”

"You're right. But you're just so pretty," you whined. "It's really not fair. You should try to be less pretty; it would make my life easier."

"You can live with it," Donghyuck said.

The ride to your place wasn't long. He finally found the keycard and put it in the door for him. He unlocked it and pushed the door open. You looked pretty comfy where you were, and it made shuffling him inside your big modern flat roof house. "C'mon baby, you've got to get in bed."  

"But you're not there," You said, sounding awfully petulant about it.

Donghyuck chuckled. "No, but you'll get to sleep just fine without it."

"That's what you think."

"Love, you're drunk enough that you'll definitely pass out before the night's through."

"Aww, you called me 'love'. No ma'am."

Donghyuck was still right next to you though, so he was able to keep you from falling over. "My last boyfriend, well, Yuta was never my boyfriend, but he called me 'doll' but I sort of hated it."

"You do seem like you'd prefer the sweeter pet names. Sweetheart, things like that."

"Feel free to call me sweetheart as much as you want. Sounds beautiful coming out of your mouth."

"I think I will. After I stop working on protecting you, that is."

"Boring." You yawned. "You sure I can't convince you to stay?"

"Not while I'm working for you, and definitely not while you're sloshed." Donghyuck brought you to your room and took off your shoes when you collapsed back on the bed. "If you want to get undressed more, you're going to have to do it yourself, sweetheart," he said, then kissed your forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow."

“I’m coming!” You groaned, walking to the front door where someone was ringing the doorbell. You opened it and you found a smiley Taeyong holding a kraft delivery bag. How did he look all shiny after leaving the restaurant in the same state as you?

“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted you. “You look terrible this morning.”

“I was looking forward to hearing that, ass,” you grunted. “Come on in, the sunlight is killing me.”

“I’m not gonna find a naked Donghyuck, am I?” Taeyong looked at you.

You rolled your eyes and he entered your house. You shut the door behind him. “By the way, where is he? I didn’t see him in the entrance.”

“He has the day off,” you said, walking to the kitchen.

“So, you fucked with him?” Taeyong placed the food bag on the counter and he took off his jacket.

“No… but I did try to seduce him,” you grimaced.

“You did what?” His mouth gaped open.

“I told him he has the prettiest man I’ve ever seen and kissed his cheek,” you laughed a little. “Not that I lied. And then I invited him to stay over and he said it was not correct.”

Taeyong chuckled. “Oh my, God, this is so good. And then what happened?”

“Nothing, he left!” You sighed and then goggled. “What if he sues me? Did I harass him?”

“Woah, woah,” Taeyong shook his hands in the air, “he likes you, I can tell by the way he looked at you all night and he would’ve totally fucked you if he wasn't your bodyguard.”

“I don't even know how to look at him now,” you ran a hand through your hair. “He’s so hot that it makes me mad. All I want is him to pin me to a wall and fu-”

“I don't need the details, thanks,” Taeyong shut you down, “but what I can tell you is that you will end up pinned to a wall, any day now.”

You giggled. “Hopefully.”

Monday. Long day at the office. You barely had seen Donghyuck since you spent all day inside your office and he stayed right outside the door. You felt… sad? You missed his voice that day and his gorgeous face. You suddenly hated Mondays.

Lia knocked at your door right before the lunch break and left some papers for you to read and sign and some correspondence as well. When you finished reading and signing the papers, you opened a few envelopes where some people and companies were inviting you to some events. The last envelope was different from the rest since it was red and had a black stamp on it. You frowned and pursued to open it.

Inside the envelope there was a note written with letters clippings from a magazine and said:

IF I WERE YOU, I WOULD SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN AT NIGHT.

YOU’RE DEAD.

You put the letter on the desk and swallowed. You weren't usually scared of hate comments, but this wasn't a hate comment. It was a letter. Threatening you.

You felt dizzy and your entire body started shaking. Who had sent you that? And why? You took a deep breath and stood up trying to walk to your bathroom in your office but failed. You tripped on your heels and hit the ground.

Then it hit you. They were inside the building. You weren't even safe in your own office. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to cry.

You tried to stand up but couldn't. Your legs weren’t responding and seconds later, you bursted into tears. You were scared. So scared.

Donghyuck had been replaying Friday’s night in his head during the whole weekend. He couldn't stop thinking about you and how good your lips felt against his skin. He hated himself so much for not being able to forget it.

On Monday he barely saw you and he hated it. He got you were busy but Donghyuck needed, at least, to talk to you and hear your voice and he didn't get that.

After he ate lunch, he returned and stood in the same place he had been standing all morning, hoping you’d get out of your office and going somewhere where you two could talk but didn't happen.

Donghyuck checked his watch on his left wrist and frowned. It was almost 2 pm and you hadn't had lunch yet. He turned and knocked at the door twice and he didn't get any response. He knocked one more time and decided to open it when you didn't respond again.

And that's when he saw you on the floor, crying and shaking. Donghyuck almost ran to you and kneeled in front of you cupping your face. “(Y/N)? What happened? Are you hurt?”

You choked on your words and got closer to him, holding him tight. He held you instantly and placed a hand on your head. “Talk to me, what happened, baby?” Donghyuck whispered in your ear.

The letter still sat on your desk.

Sungho was on the phone to the police while you sat with your arms wrapped around Donghyuck who was simply staring at the offensive stationary. Less than twenty minutes later the entire apartment was invaded by police, looking for clues to who had left it for you.

“Miss (Y/LN)” the Captain took the seat across from you, “Are you okay?”

You lifted your chin slightly, “I’m better, Captain. Just angry and scared at whoever sent this.”

He didn’t miss the way you kept your eyes averted from the piece of paper.

“They didn’t send it, (Y/L/N),” he stated, “It was an inside job"

You took in a sharp breath and Donghyuck held you tighter.

“I suggest you hire more security. My men will be here as well,” he  told you, “But I can’t leave them here indefinitely.”

You nodded. "Thanks, captain."

When the police left, Donghyuck and Sungho decided it was the best to leave the office and you obeyed them. When you got home, Donghyuck told you to change the passcodes of every door in your house and he’d stay there until they knew who had sent the letter. You agreed since you didn't want to be alone in your house.

When you got home you did what Donghyuck told you and changed every passcode. You sighed and hugged yourself. You felt exhausted.

Donghyuck approached you and looked at you. “You feel better?”

“Kinda,” you admitted. “My head is killing me.”

“Why don’t you go and take a bath while I make something for you to eat?” He caressed your cheek with his right thumb. “You need to eat something.”

You nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” he placed a kiss on your forehead and you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Is there a chance you could come with me?”

“Not even the slightest,” he now kissed your cheek.

You sighed. “Fine. I’ll be right back.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror and furrowed. Did you deserve this? Maybe. Was he maybe behind the letter? You didn't think so.

When you sold Kim Doyoung that powerful software one year back he was clear he wouldn't even bother you. Did he maybe hear about your meeting with the Prime Minister? Did he know you were about to sell him off so you could do business with the government?

Donghyuck was chopping some vegetables and couldn't stop thinking who could be behind the letter. It was not certainly your father since he had hired him to kill you, but who was it?

You were clean. Way too clean.

Unless… you werent.

You came back downstairs and smiled when you found Doyoung in your kitchen. You could get used to that.

"What am I protecting you from (Y/N)?" he asked softly after you two finished eating, trying to meet your gaze as you looked at him over the brim of your glass. "What is it that you're not telling me?"

You blinked a few times. "What do you mean?"

Donghycuk sighed and repeated his question.

You didn't reply. You just stood up, placing your glass down silently before you walked towards the kitchen.

Donghyuck followed you without second thought, cornering you again in the hallway leading towards the kitchen. "What are you hiding from me?" he demanded, his hand pushing against your chest and pressing you against the wall. "I want the truth."

"It's... nothing," you came in the response and it only served to infuriate him more.

Donghyuck wanted to scream at you until you told him the truth, but as you stood there, staring into his eyes and standing close enough to feel your breath on his face... Instead, he did something that surprised both of you.

Lee Donghyuck kissed you.

It was impulsive and it was reckless. It took you a second to come to terms with what was happening but your lips were moving against Donghyuck in perfect synchronisation, your lips slotting together like they’ve always meant to be like that.

Donghyuck felt like his entire body was doused in gasoline and you had the match, every inch of him ready to combust. His heart raced as the adrenaline ran through his veins and he couldn't help but note that this feeling was so addictive he didn't think he would ever be able to stop if he didn't right now.

Donghyuck loved how heavenly his lips felt against yours, how warm your touch was and how it sent electricity coursing through his vein each time your soft fingers explored a new part of his body.

You were the one to pull apart and as much as Donghyuck hated it, he felt a pang of disappointment. "Trust me."

Donghyuck swallowed and looked at your swollen red lips. "I would never forgive myself if something happens to you."

"I'm gonna be fine. You're with me." You looked at him.

[hintofcolor]

If I’m in pain you are gonna feel it (I never got to tell him I loved him and it’s your fault)

Tim yells at Clark because he’s sad and misses his best friend

It was quiet. Cassie and Tim stayed back, while everyone else went up to the house, sitting under the tree that gave shade to fresh turned dirt and concrete slab. The trunk of the tree wide enough that they could sit side by side and still lean back against it. 

“Conner Kent,” Cassie read aloud the name on the tombstone, “the fact that that’s the name they went with makes me want to break the ugly thing.” 

“Go for it,” Tim responded as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, willing the tears back in. He’s cried enough in front of people. “Maybe he’ll be offended enough that he comes back to tell you how rude it is to vandalize his grave.” 

Cassie chuckled, “If anyone would come back from the dead because of a hurt ego, it’d be Kon.” A small, soft smile settled on both of their faces.

They sat in comfortable silence just being in each other’s presence. They were the only two left. It hurt, but at least they had each other. It was nice, comforting, to just see the other. To watch each other’s chest rise and fall, to see their eyes flutter, tired and sad, glazed over with tears, but full of life. The sun turned a warm red and the sky lit up in vibrant colors. It was beautiful. It reminded Tim that Kon would never be able to keep the promise of showing Tim the sunsets in Hawaii

“You wouldn’t believe it man!” Kon beamed, “the sunsets and sunrises are unreal. It’s like they are fake. Like some one, I don’t know, painted them. I don’t know how to describe it.” Kon sat next to Tim on the water tower in smallville. Kon had flown up there, the whole ‘not being able to be himself’ thing weighing heavy. So they sat on the tower and Kon talked and Tim listened. When the sun started to set Tim smiled and made a remark about how beautiful it was and how he doesn’t see sunsets a lot because Gotham and pollution and such. Which in turn, made Kon start gushing about Hawaii. Tim turned to give Kon his full attention, while Kon sat with his arms resting on the barricade, his legs hanging over the edge, and his eyes glued to the sky. “You gotta see it I swear.”

“I believe you.”

“No I’m serious. I want you to see it for yourself. One day I’m going to take you to see a sunset in Hawaii. That’s a promise.”

 “I’ve got to head home.” Cassie’s voice breaking through the memories. “It’s been a long day, and it’s almost dark, I don’t want my mom to worry. Will you be okay? You can stay over at my place if you think your family will be to much.”

“Thanks Cass, but I’m okay.” Tim responded. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes settled in place. Like it belonged there. “I don’t think I’m through saying goodbye yet.”

Cassie simply smiled sympathetically. The look of his smile made her nauseous. She hurts too, so bad, but Tim has lost so many people already, she would give anything if she could just take his pain away. Seeing some one she loves in so much pain, knowing she can’t do anything about it, leaves her uneasy. As if she’s in pain for them. She wants to stay a little longer. Sit next to him, holding his hand, or resting her head on his shoulder, something to remind her that he’s still there, to remind him that she’s not going anywhere. She almost caved, sitting back down, staying with him till he was ready to go home. She even thought about going with him then too. Curling up in his too big bed, like how they all used to after a particularly difficult mission, leaving them feeling powerless and hopeless. All settled in one of their bedrooms, which ever was closest, just for the comfort of having other people around. They never talked, they just all silently got ready for bed and claimed a spot wherever was comfortable. However, she needed to get home to her mom, because as much as she loves Tim and wants to stick by his side, she really, really needs a hug from her mom right about now. To have her kiss Cassie’s head and tell her it’s okay, and that the pain just means that she cares.  

She flies off, refusing to go up to the old house. To many memories of the four of them are stored in that rickety barn and yellow home. She doesn’t want them tainted by grief. 

Tim watches her go. He leans his head back against the tree again. He was about to close his eyes when he heard footsteps approaching. He stood, perfectly ready to give whoever it was some privacy with Kon. Until Clark comes into view. An anger Tim didn’t even know he was harboring for the Kryptonian came bubbling to surface. Fast and Hot.  He pushed against the tree to stand up right and tall. 

“Are you proud yet?” He asked, venom dripping from every word. Clark turned to look at the boy briefly. Tim could see the guilt hanging heavy in his eyes. “He saved the world. Died a hero. That enough to convince you that he isn’t Lex? That he could be more than his DNA?” 

“Tim-” 

“No. I talk, you listen.” Tim spit. Clark recoiled, but stayed quiet. “You did nothing but push him away for absolutely no valid reason. What makes you think you have a right to stand here and grieve? When you were the one who made his life hell. For years, years Clark, I had to sit and listen as he doubted himself, doubted who he was, whether or not he was good, whether he was his own person. I watched him drive himself insane over his stupid DNA. Because of you, Clark! Because you couldn’t for three seconds consider that maybe, just maybe Kon is his own person. He had a mind, a beating heart, a soul, Clark, and you reduced him to a science experiment. You don’t get to stand here and act like this isn’t exactly what you wanted. Not when that stupid shield drug him down more than you could ever imagine” 

“I tried-” 

“YOU TRIED!? God Clark you can’t be this dense. The Kon you knew wasn’t even Kon! GOD! He changed everything about himself so that maybe, just maybe you would accept him! He died being a person he didn’t even recognize in the mirror. The clothes, that stupid t shirt and jeans, the hair cut, the glasses, his obviously dialed down personality. I can’t count how many times I listened to the same thing over and over, about how much he hated everything he had become, how didn’t feel like himself, how it was driving him insane. And every time I would tell him that there was nothing wrong with who he used to be and every time, every single time, he would respond with ‘Clark would disagree.’ All you did was change him into another version of you. Your opinion meant so much to him and you hardly even spared him a second thought. You wanna know how I know you didn’t try, because if you spent even five minutes talking to Kon like he was more than a clone bred to fight, you would know how much he hated Smallville. LOOK WHERE WE ARE STANDING! He couldn’t wait to get out of this place, and because you didn’t want to go through the, what, hassle? Of coming up with a story as to why he would be buried in someplace he liked. Buried in Hawaii? He is the in the one place that him feel even less of a person forever. God, Clark do you know how pathetic that is? How so royally fucked up that is? Do you know how angry he would be if he knew he had to spend eternity here? And yet you have the audacity to stand here and actually mourn him?.”

“I-” 

“I’m not done talking. You don’t get to mourn some one you wished wasn’t alive in the first place. We both know the only reason it hurts you so much is because this perfectly crafted ‘knight on a white horse’ person you created just took a hit. God, I wish in everything that some one would knock you off of that damn high horse. I am so sorry your hero complex took a hit. I am so sorry that you have to be the villain for once. That you couldn’t save Kon, whether it was from prime or himself. I am so sorry that you worked so hard to make Kon into Clark 2.0 only to have him die. I am so, so sorry that you regret not getting to know him. But that’s on you and only you. And that guilt you’re feeling, the guilt of not being fast enough. Of not getting there in time. Of letting some one die. Of some one dying thinking that you hate them. I get it. Trust me, I get it. A hundred scenarios running through your mind about how it could have been different, how you could have saved him. How you could have done better. How you should have kept them closer. When you are laying there at night, your stomach curled in on itself, your blood ice cold. The hot tears pouring down your face as some cruel reminder that you can’t escape from this. The type of guilt that has you hunched over the toilet, choking on your vomit because you can’t stop sobbing long enough and you’re body won’t let you do both. You don’t panic, you think if I go I deserve it right? You put on the cape and become sloppy and reckless because if you make it out, if you are able to go home and take them off, the pain will set back in. That guilt that is all encompassing, that drags with you all day and all night. Cause no matter what, you can’t wake up. That guilt? I can tell you with a doubt is the worse feeling you will ever feel. And I truly mean it when I say that I hope you choke on it. I hope you scream for help and no one listens. I want you to know what it feels like to be in so much pain while surrounded by people who make a living helping people. I hope people you consider family ignore your suffering. I hope that pain seeps into your skin. I hope the sound of Kon hitting the ground rings in your ears. I hope the sound of his heart stopping replays on repeat.” Tim’s voice breaks, tears are flooding down his face he can’t see anything, but he doesn’t care. He is so angry that nothing else matters. His voice drops to barely a whisper “I wish Kon were here. I wish he could tell you this himself. I wish he could tell you himself how much it hurt to know that you would never love him.”

Tim walked off, up the dirt road that lead to Kent’s long driveway. He paused at the old worn mailbox, before deciding to just keep going. He trekked down the long dirt road, with no clue where he was going. He knew Bruce would come looking eventually. He found himself lying on the cold metal walkway of the old water tower. He just stared up at the stars, like he was waiting for Kon to appear out of  the sky. He closed his eyes, tears still streaming down steadily and whispered the same thing over and over again. Maybe if he said it enough Kon would hear it. 

I love you. I love you. I love you.

[oyesmendes]

wildflower - calum hood

a/n: i’ve had this storyline sitting in the works for days soooooo.... its gonna be a couple of parts so lets see where this takes us ya? full of dialogue and unnecessary descriptions. 

summary: after a nasty breakup, Karla Rivera finds herself working as one of the new producers/songwriter for 5SOS. She had no intention to fall in love right now, but one conversation struck a chord with her. In between producing a smashing album and writing hit singles, Karla finds herself entangled in the arms of a man who she never thought she’d end up with.

“Alright boys, as much as I love working with you guys, I think it’s time I bring in someone new.” Andrew says as he shuffles around the kitchen of the Malibu beach house. The boys had rented this place out for a month to work on their new album, as well as to take a short break from tour. They had only arrived yesterday, but things were already starting to bloom and they had a few songs on their hand they thought would fit the album.

“What do you mean? Are you leaving us?” Luke sat up in his seat. All the boys were sprawled in different corners of the kitchen, munching on their breakfast before the day of writing began.

“I’m not leaving, just bringing someone new in.”

“Who? And why do we need someone new?” Andrew could only roll his eyes at the question, downing the last bit of his coffee before throwing it into the sink.

“You’ll know her when she gets here. She’s talented, and I think she could provide something fresh.” He looks at the time on his phone, “She should be here soon, just play nice”

The boys all gave each other looks. They haven’t really stepped out of their circle of people when it came to music, so working with someone new and not to mention a female songwriter, could really give them a whole new perspective on things.

Karla finds herself sitting in the car for way too long. She was parked outside a gorgeous beach house on the quiet side of Malibu and she was dressed in an old concert T-shirt she had stolen from her brother, along with a pair of shorts and sneakers. She takes three deep breaths and gives herself a small pep talk before climbing out of her car. This is your job she reminds herself, it’s something you love to do.

When Karla first received the phone call from Andrew, she was reluctant to move even an inch off the bed in the guest bedroom of her brother’s apartment. All she wanted to do was shove down another pint of ice cream and watch old re-runs of Real Housewives. She knew her brother was the culprit behind the phone call, filling Andrew in about her breakup with her boyfriend of three years. Andrew had blown up her phone afterwards, calling Karla every single day until she finally agreed to come write with him for a week. Though it was a good intention, trying to get Karla out of the house, Andrew knew it was also her prime time. The overwhelming emotions she felt more often than not would be translated into the most beautiful words, and she would produce sounds unheard of. So here she was, standing in front of the door of the house. She had her water bottle and duffel in hand, notebook, phone and iPad in the other. The white door swings open, and Andrew pulled her into his arms immediately,

“There you are!” She returns the hug, a genuine smile on her face after finally him in the flesh. Andrews pulls away, hands clasped to her upper arm and he takes a good look at her. Karla thanks god for the Benefit concealer she’s slathered under her eyes or she’d be getting an earful from him. He grins at her and pulls her into the house, down the hallway to the living room where she spots the four boys with their heads buried in some form of instrument or notebook. They don’t take notice of their presence at first until Andrew clears his throat, and the boys look up at him.

“Boys, this is Karla Rivera, she’ll be working with us for the week!” Andrew says a little too enthusiastically. Karla gives them a small wave, and she notices the look that the boys give each other. They were unsure of her that was for sure, having not met her before. Ashton stood up first, Karla reaching her hand out but the boy pulled her into a single arm hug. She laughed when she was caught off guard by him, which set the boys smiling as well. Calum, Michael and Luke followed after, and they were settled down at the couch so they could show her what they had been working on.

-

“This is good… maybe we can add a bum bum bum.” She hummed a tune the boys had never heard before, and Andrew scrambled to play it on his guitar.

“And then for the lyrics maybe we could do - killin’ me slow with the words you wrote, the heart you broke…” Karla paused to scribble words onto her notebook before singing out, “calling my name, I don’t wanna stay but I’m wide awake, I’m wide awake.” Everyone in the room was in shock at how naturally the words flowed for her, this being the second song that was almost done and definitely had potential in being on the album. There was a lot of humming and words being muttered under their breath, until Calum shot up from his chair.

“How about - just one more taste of you my love. Then we repeat the first two lines? This could be the chorus!” Luke was already by the piano, playing out the melody and singing to the lyrics they had just written down.

“Thin white lies”

“What was that, K?”

“Add the line of thin white lies after that line that Calum just said, have someone sing it in the background or something.” Andrew looked to the boys who followed suit, their eyes widening when they heard themselves perform it. Karla had a wide grin on her face when she heard it unfold, her eyes meeting Calum’s who looked equally as satisfied. They still had a long way to go with empty verses that needed to be filled, but this was a small victory worth celebrating.

“Holy shit.” Ashton mumbled after hearing the small part.

“I told you she was good.”

“Didn’t tell me she was that good.” Andrew smirked at him before working to compile all the components of the chorus together. After the chorus came together, everything else in the song fell into place easily. All four boys worked on the lyrics with Karla, who made the words fall out of their mouths. They had almost the entire song written from top to bottom, the melodies and layering all in place, and they were just missing a bridge and outro.

“We could just stray away from the conventional structure” Michael suggested, but Ashton shook his head.

“No, it feels like something is missing.”

“How about…” Karla had her head in her notebook, flipping through the worn out pages of it. She often dug through the words she had written before but never used, and they would often be essential in a situation like this. Her finger ran across the page that was filled with her scrawly handwriting just a week after her breakup, and that’s when she found the exact words.

“I don't think I like me anymore. Can someone tell me who I was before? We can repeat this twice, I think it fits.” Calum writes it down on the paper that they had the lyrics on, and Luke proceeds to sing it out. Those words definitely fit. They all cheer, high-fives thrown among each other. Karla smiles softly, celebrating with the boys. They take a fifteen minute break for Andrew to record everything down, and Karla took this chance to step outside on the balcony. This was her favourite kind of view - watching the sea crash into the sand, the sun shining above the horizon and a few people laying on the beach having a good time. She thinks about all the time she’s spent at the beach in her three year relationship. How they’d spend every important date in their lives celebrating in the salty water, getting sand so far up their ass they’d shit sandcastles for days. She laughs to herself then shakes her head out of those thoughts. It’s been a whole month since that faithful day, she’s got to get over it. Just as she was about to go back inside, Calum startles her with his voice and she jumps.

“Jeezus, you couldn’t be any stealthier huh.” He chuckles, and Karla notices how his eyes crinkle.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” She gives him her middle finger, and he stands next to her, admiring the view as well.

“What you did in there, those words were really cool y’know?”

“Thank you.” She says shyly. It’s been nearly five years since she started working as a songwriter, and she still couldn’t handle compliments well.

“Those words came from somewhere?” Karla knew where this conversation was going, but she wasn’t ready for it yet. She nods to Calum, then shrugs her shoulders. He understands and doesn’t push the boundaries.

-

They worked on a couple more songs before they called it a day. The boys had all agreed that Karla brought something different to the table, and pushed them to a whole new level they never knew existed. The lyrics were definitely more vulnerable and honest, and they were enjoying every single moment of it. Food and beer was strewn all over the table, the boys chatting about the next leg of the tour and what not. Karla was the first to notice that Calum wasn’t in the room with them, and she looks around only to find him on the balcony, a cigarette in his hand.

“You know, one too many of those and you could die.” It was his turn to jump, and Karla smiles at him when he dramatically raises his hand to his chest.

“I’d die of a cardiac arrest first.” She playfully shoves him, then moves to take her place on the outdoor sofa. Calum joins her and the pair stay quiet for awhile, just watching as the waves crashed harder on the sand.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Karla hums in response, her eyes closed as a cool breeze passes by. Calum places his hand on her knee, squeezing it slightly to get her attention. Her eyes flutter open and she looks at him, brown eyes and all, just staring at her.

“It just reminds me of my ex.” She sighs, leaning her head back on the chair.

“What does? The ocean?”

“That, and everything else. It’s like I wake up and all I can think about is how awful I feel without him by my side.” His heart scrunches up at her words. He’s finding the right response to her statement, racking his brain for the exact words. But is there a correct response to such a statement? Her voice gets him out of his head, and he’s listening intently again.

“He cheated y’know? I wasn’t in town and he fucking cheated. Had sex with a girl on our bed.”

“A fucker.” Calum seethes. He hears her chuckle and it confuses him for a moment before she speaks up, “that’s an understatement.” Karla leans on his shoulder, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She felt a sense of relief admitting this to someone other than her brother or her best friend. And it felt good to finally get her emotions out on to paper and into a song.

Calum felt his heart race at a dangerous speed when her head came into contact with his shoulders. It was unlike any other feelings that he’s had before. He finds himself being curious, wanting to get to know more of her, and so desperately wanting to feel her touch against his skin. They sit like this for a long time, the sound of the waves and soft music in the background. He leans his head onto hers, humming a soft tune every now and then.

[chappedandfadedvds]

Nov 7th, Saturday 14:20

„Happy birthday!!“

„Thank you so much, can I be celebrated for days now every year? I really enjoy this.“ Jens joked as he stepped into the livingroom following Senne who had let him and Lotte in.

They even had put up a glittery banner and had a couple of colourful balloons grazing the floor. There was a set table and a cake filled with candles to the brim. Probably exactly 18 and Jens was pretty sure he would not be able to blow them all out at once. They all wore these tiny party hat cones on their heads, Lotte loving hers the minute it was put on when they entered.

„Next year were aren’t celebrating at all to equal it out, so you better make the most of it today.“ Sander declared getting up from his shared sofa with robbe, moving over to pull  him into a tight hug. Robbe directly taking over, congratulating Jens once more as the two of them swayed from one foot onto the other in their embrace. He loved this boy so much.

„I can’t believe that you are eighteen. You are becoming a boring adult.“ He heard Robbe whisper giggling as they both pulled back far enough to look at each other grinning, not having let go yet.

„You’ll be eighteen soon too, so you better watch your words, young man.“ Jens joked as he saw his sister being picked up and swung around by Sander. He supposed this and the cake were her only two reasons for coming with.

„At least we have our university years left to fuck it all up, I guess.“ Robbe said happily as Jens kept smiling brightly, while his heart though tightened almost painfully at that thought. He didn’t want to think about it. Not now. Not with people around. Not with Lotte close by to see him.  He swallowed it down and for some sort of miracle did Zoe appeared next to them.

„You can keep cuddling all day, if you want, but I wann hug Jens too.“ She complained quite amused as Robbe stepped away, his eyes immidiately searching for Sander to find him pouring Lotte some tea.

„What do you wanna drink?“ Jens heard the boy asking, as he joined the others by the table.

„Coffee would be great if possible.“

„Coming right up.“ Robbe replied, as Zoë and him hugged, her hand brushing through his hair, cautiously enough to not rip the birthday hat off.

„Happy birthday.“ She said, pecking a kiss to his cheek: „Let’s get some cake. Milan spend at least four hours in the kitchen, so even if it is horrible, smile.“

He snorted at her shaking his head. He was pretty sure the cake was amazing. Milan had found his absolute passion in baking since the first lockdown in march began. And though his cooking really left a large room for improvment, his baking skills was great by now. At least that’s what Robbe had told him and the last couple of weekends really proved him right.

„My turn finally.“ Milan said and another hug ensued as he was taking into the arms of the older boy and pressed tight against his chest. As with Zoë he was pecked a kiss on his cheek and welcomed with a bright smile and best wishes. Milan’s hand took holf of his and thus they both went to join the group a couple meteres away.

Robbe had joined Sander in the meantime, Lotte placed happily chatting away on the older boys lap, gesturing wildly about, as the other two listened intently. A child really suited them, Jens thought. And if fate was on their side and they pulled through all the mental health bullshit, he was conviced that they should have one. At least Sander appeared to enjoy that role.

Milan sat on the second sofa with Zoë and Senne, the later one busy lightening all the candles on the cake. That leaving Jens to take his seat on the armchair across of them.

„Alright. Make a wish.“ Senne set presenting his accomplished work, as Robbe took out his phone to either film or take a picture with. „And hurry, we want cake.“

It took him three tries to blow every single candle out as the other laughed and cheered him on.

He only whished for his mom to stay a little longer, like the little child he felt he still was.

„What the hell is this?“ Jens asked, his eyes wide open as he regarded the big package that Sander had pulled from his and Robbe’s room. It was a paper brown rectangle and decorated with a comically large red bow, like it belonged into a cartoon. 

Zoë and Senne had gifted him a new year playstation plus membership, that he was very greatful for. And Milan had bought him a quite expensive book on music production, that Jens had wanted and was pretty sure Robbe had told him. 

It was nothing compared to the present he was starring at currently infront of him on the floor, as he, followed by everyone else, had gotten up to inspect it.

„Open it!“ Lotte urged excited to his left, pulling his hand forward.

So he did just that. The bow was off in no time and the packet wasn’t that hard to open either.

He was staring in disbelief directly onto a skate board with a photograoh attached to it by tape, that punched the air out of his lungs. 

It wasn’t just a skate board, it was his skate board, or at least a version of it. Because he had a pretty big accident with it, when he was eleven and the board broke and with it his heart, as it had been his very first one. He had cried the whole way home, more over the board than his broken arm and scratched knees. It took him weeks to get over it.

The photo was showing Robbe and him on his eights’s birthday, smiling at the camera, with said board in his little arms.

„Robbe, you didn’t..“ He heard his own voice saying, just barely keeping from trembling. His hand searching blindly for the boy behind him, who got the hint and kneeled next tim him to take it.

„Well it obviously isn’t the same one, but I found all these photographs of us and our boards last year, going through all my mothers stuff, before she was admitted and I knew immidiately that I needed to keep them. I planned back then to get you a board resembling it for your eighteen’s, but fate has it, that I fell for an artist. So while I told him what to do, and what was acurate, Sander drew and painted everything.“ Robbe explained, leaving Jens to continue starring at it, cautiously picking it up to turn it over and back.

He couldn’t believe it. It looked exactly the same, all the weird scribbles and sketches and amateurish tags were plastered across it. Jens felt the need to place it on a pedestal and conserve it, never touching it. This was too good to be true.

„Dude...“ He managed to say, putting the board back down, before his arms slung around his best friend burying his head in his neck, while the other laughed and stroke his back.

„And you too.“ Jens gestured towards Sander to come down as well, so he could hug both of them. 

„I told you he would love it.“ Robbe was told by his boyfriend, before Lotte tackled them.

„I want to be hugged as well.“ She declared pouting, as they let her into their circle, while Jens was still processing his present. 

The next hours Robbe and him spent reminising in old stories, they told the others about. A lot of emberessing ones, Jens thought, but he didn’t really mind. They really had been through a lot together. Robbe was definitely family and Jens couldn’t be more grateful to have him around. He just really hoped that they would all stay in Antwerp.

While Sander still had two years left at the academy, he had voiced interest to move somewhere else for a couple of years to see more of the world. And Jens was pretty sure that Robbe would stick with him, whereever his boyfriend would plan to take them. Jens really didn’t want to loose Robbe as well.

„You good?“ Robbe’s voice pulled him out of it, as Jens noted that the others had went back to the table, finishing of their second round of cake and tea and other sweets that have managed to appear on the table.

Jens nodded lightly at Robbe next to him on the sofa, as they had watched Senne and Sander help his little sister to stand on the used skate board of Robbe. She tried really hard to keep her balance as the two older boys pshed her back and forth across the living room. 

„You know that if you want to talk, that you can always come to me, yea?“ His best friend said smikring as he winked, a clear reminder of last year, were the roles had been reversed and Jens had tried to have Robbe open up.

„I will.“

„You will what?“ Zoë inquired curiously as she looked up from her phone again, having texted Jana and the girls group some pictures of todays little birthday party, as she had explained earlier.

„Let you know, that even though it was Jens’s big day, we spent two hours on Lucas yesterday on zoom. Because you girls and my boyfriend can’t get enough of him.“ Robbe joked, taking Zoë’s phone to read through the last couple of messages.

„See.“ Robbe said as he showed Jens the screen, a conversation about Lucas being the prime subject: „Tsk, tsk, tsk.“

Jens was pretty close to tell Robbe that he really didn’t mind that at all, and that he probably could happily chat about the boy himself for days on end. And one day he would have to let Robbe know as well. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it yet. It was all too new.

„I’ve heard Lucas?“ Milan chimed in and Jens could only laugh at Robbe’s whine: “Not you as well.“

„Topic change!“ He threfore declared loudly, clapping his hands, to help his best friend out and made everyone look at him instead expectantly.

„What’s happening now with your exhibition? We all were so excited to behave in the dumbest way possible on thursday. Even Noor was in on it.“ Sander smirked at him, a fuck you on his lips, as he mouthed it silently at Jens.

„It’s all gonna be virtuell, like a tour through the exhibition pieces, so I guess maybe we could organise a litte zoom party again to go through it together?“ It is the best I can come up with now, if you are actually interested in seeing it, as you won’t have a possibilty to embarrass me infront of my professors.“

„Uh that sounds still fun. And Jana could join too! Let me just post the group.“ Zoë said excited as she took her phone back from Robbe, who turned his eyes a last time towards Jens. All serious as he patted Jens’s hand on the sofa between them.

„I mean it. I’m here to listen.“ He said smiling slightly and then getting up to help Senne make space on the table. They had ordered a big round of Pizza that should arrive soon for dinner.

Jens loved his best friend. He really did.

„We should add Lucas to the group as well.“ Milan proposed, being met with an unanimous approval of everyone else.

Jens shrugged at Robbe smirking back at him. He had tried at least. He took out his phone himself now, looking at their group that let everyone know about a new number been added. He needed to remind himself to text the poor boy later.

Zoë 17:56: Welcome to the best group in Antwerp!

Amber 17:57: Hello, Lucas!!! Glad to have you here 🥰

Noor 17:57: You still have time to run and block this. Once you are in, they will never let you out. Trust me. 😭

Moyo 17:59: Bring weed pls

[tabithacarlisle]

*OFF THE RECORD : Part 7.......by jo ( @tabithacarlisle ;) *Catch up on OFF THE RECORD’s previous chapters parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 & 6 here at the OTR Masterlist OTR Part 7 Notes & Disclaimers: Pixelberry Studios owns these characters, not me! I just have fun playing with them :) Pairings: Drake x Liam  (mentions: Liam x MC (Tabitha) | Maxwell x MC | Drake x MC | discussions of Liam x Drake x MC x Maxwell (!!) Warnings: 18+ NS*W, 🍋, SMUT, erotica, polyamory, marital angst, some swearing

*Author’s Note: any time you see text underlined, it’s a link to screenshots from Pixelberry’s Choices TRR scenes, or other chapters referenced from *OTR- click them!! :)

OTR Part 7: ........

“These plans look fantastic, Drake! I do...” he paused to flip through the stack of blueprints “...recall, Tabitha mentioning she wanted that land by the river on her estate to be used to build a private cottage for us in future. Is there, any... particular reason why the two of you seem in such a rush to build it now?”

“Do you remember that, um... thing I told you about?”

Liam still looked confused

“You know... you... me.... and Tabitha... the three of us....?”

The realization could clearly be seen on Liam’s face by how it at once turned from inquisitive to annoyed. Drake could read him like a book. “Oh... oh you mean that ‘thing’ I that I told both you and Tabitha that I was definitely not comfortable with partaking in and refused to do with both of you? That thing?”

“She needs this, we— we could make this work.”

“And, what, pray tell, makes you think that?”

“She wants Maxwell in on it now.”

“...what?!”

“You, me, Carlisle.... and—“ Drake blinked hard before exhaling sharply “Maxwell.”

“And this, this is what she wants? And you’re OK with it too??!”

“Listen, Your wife? is an insatiable minx. This is what she needs. This is what-- what we all need. All of us. You’re the one who said we need better communication to make this new situation work between the four of us, right? Think of it as a ... a team building exercise. Look, I wasn’t cool with Maxwell joining in at first, but she has a way of making people agree to things that they wouldn’t normally want anything to do with.”

Liam let his head fall into his hands propped up by his elbows on the desk and sighed audibly. “Yes, she does... and so do you.” He ran a hand through his hair and lifted his reading glasses off to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to hurt her, or you. Quite frankly, I’m still unsure about how I’ll react to seeing you together with her. And now Maxwell?... for fucks’ sake.”

Drake chuckled “Exactly.” 

“Jesus, Drake... You really think this would be the best course of action for all of us?”

“Listen, we give it a shot. One time. If you aren’t into it, it‘d be the last time ever, and we could move on. Someone once told me, ‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

“Let me guess who?”

“Yup. And, she also told me to remind you how good building that private cabin would be for the economy to create more jobs in Valtoria. Carlisle said she wants it built by all Valtorian contractors and workers. Better for PR that way.”

Liam’s mood perked up. He couldn’t help but beam with pride. “I do admit, I am so proud of her. I’m continually impressed by my wife’s political savvy. It’s hard to believe sometimes she wasn’t born to this life rather than us having plucked her out of waitressing at that dive bar in New York, isn’t it?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that you can’t ever underestimate Carlisle. ... Any-ways, so... if this project is a ‘go’ - I’ve gotta leave for Valtoria this afternoon. We already have appointments to field bids from ‘bout half a dozen different contractors out there. I was thinking... maybe you and me? We could go together, stay at the manor on the estate, have some alone time this weekend?...”

Liam sighed. “You make it sound so tempting. But, I can’t. I have plans tonight.”

“Your meetings with the ambassadors aren’t happening ‘till next week though! C’mon, Lee...”

“It’s not just that. It’s been, too long, since I last spent the night with Tabitha. I wanted to surprise her with a mini-break on Sardinia. We have reservations at Al Vecchio’s for dinner tonight and I’ve rented a private villa for the two of us to spend the weekend there together.”

“Ooh, smooth. Al Vecchio’s?” Drake let out a low whistle “Y’know she likes cheap Italian food too, right?”

Liam frowned incredulously, “What makes you think that?”

Busted. “Oh— um...” He winced and scratched at the back of his neck “...never mind?”

“Right... anyway, this restaurant worked best with our security needs this time, and I want the best for her.”

“So you’re leaving tonight?”

“Yes, we have the private jet ready to go. Tabitha and I will be back by Monday in time for our State visit with the German Prime Minister.”

“Well, I’m gonna miss you. At least let me give you a proper send off...” Drake’s muscle memory easily found Liam’s belt buckle as he pried it loose and cupped Liam’s bulge through his trousers with the other hand. Liam gasped for breath & closed his eyes in a reluctant grimace, pushing drake’s hands away as he readjusted his belt

“What?”

“Drake— we can’t. I can’t, rather. It’s been, nearly two weeks since I last slept with her. I need to make sure I can keep my endurance up for tonight.”

Drake scoffed and grabbed Liam by the belt-loops to pull him closer, their hips now flush against each other’s. “‘Endurance’? Fuck that, Lee. I’ve seen you go four or five times in one night.”

Liam put his head down slightly and closed his eyes, chuckling softly and trying not to blush before he met Drake’s eyes again. “You know I’m getting older.”

“Never. Not to me.”

Liam, touched by the flattery, placed his hand over Drake’s chest. “Come, now. Let me give you, a proper send off instead.”

Liam held Drake’s shoulder, kissing him hard and fastening his hand at the base of Drake’s neck. Their lips remained locked as Liam reached a hand down to push the small red button under the edge of his desk. The locks on the door to the office could be heard remotely latching from across the room. They were safe now. Drake reached up to cup Liam’s face in his calloused hands to deepen the kiss, only to be denied entry when Liam pushed him down into the leather executive desk chair.

“Oof!”

Liam lowered himself onto his knees and unzipped Drake’s pants, pulling down the elastic of his boxer briefs just enough to free his cock and balls. The shaft was almost fully erect. He looked up into Drake’s eyes hungrily while twisting one hand up and down the shaft and stroking the balls with his fingers splayed in the other, until Drake’s manhood was fully prepped. Drake tangled his fingers in Liam’s hair and groaned, closing his eyes and arching his neck back against the mahogany leather headrest. He soon felt that familiar tongue tracing the underside and sucking at the tip of his cock with his favorite mouth. It felt like home.

Drake moaned again, just a bit too audibly this time so that Liam had to lift his head. He put a finger to his lips and shushed at Drake like a school headmaster. Drake opened his eyes, and frowning hissed back at Liam “What?! Bash knows already!”

“One can never be too careful...” Liam whispered back. He winked at him and set back to work again, this time slowly easing Drake’s fully erect shaft into his mouth and deep down his throat one time, pulling back to look into Drake’s eyes as he let the tip loll around his lips and lightly stubbled cheeks before engulfing his dick again.

Drake leaned forward, bracing the back of Liam’s head and neck with his large palms. He thrusted his hips up in time to Liam’s mouth machinations, trying desperately to keep from moaning too loud. Drake bit his lip and growled under his breath, feeling his nut-sac clench in anticipation. Before he could verbally warn Liam, Drake’s release came. He shuddered, opening his eyes long enough to make sure his thick cum got deposited entirely into Liam’s eager mouth, and tapping the visible outline of his cock’s head softly on the inside of Liam’s cheek in his mouth; all the better to not leave a trace on him.

Liam swallowed softly and smiled with closed lips. Still on his knees, he opened a bottom desk drawer to find the small bottle of mint mouthwash that had been left there from their past sessions in the office. He gargled briefly before spitting into a small cup, as Drake methodically finished cleaning himself up, then readjusted his pants to tuck his shirt back in. It was clear this was a routine they had followed many times before; there was no time for ‘pillow talk’ or cuddling.

Drake did notice Liam getting up from the floor with a visible hard on bulging beneath his pants.

“Ouch, Liam? are you seriously that desperate to keep your title as the ‘Edging King?’ That’s gotta be painful. You should just let me help you out this time.”

“I told you, I have to save it for my Queen. I’ll be fine, trust me.” He rubbed Drake’s shoulder before hugging him close. “It’s only for the weekend. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You two have fun then, and you’d better fuck her so senseless that she can barely walk when she gets back home.”

“Drake! Have you gone completely mad? She’s pregnant, I can’t just—“

“Oh, believe me, Carlisle can take it. Those pregnancy hormones of hers are a gift.” Drake winked suggestively at him as he rolled up the cabin blueprints left on Liam’s desk, walking backwards back out the door, whistling with a slight spring in his step as he left down the hall.

Liam sat back down at his desk. Drake had left one copy of the cabin plans with an empty signature field. He exhaled loudly, and taking an expensive looking fountain pen put his signature on the line above his name and title, and stamped the Royal Cordonian seal at the bottom of the blueprints. .......

Click Here to Read On >>>> OTR Part 8

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[thepinkwriterr]

Richie Tozier // Cherry Pendant

"Call me morbid, call me pale, I've spent six years on your trail. Six. Long years on your trail..."

Morrissey crooned through my speakers, filling me with remorse and sadness.

The Smiths always reminded me of Cherry.

Her real name was Alexis, or Lex. We all called her Cherry because of her hair.

Cherry was my ex-girlfriend. We were best friends for six months before that night came.

"If you have five seconds to spare, I'll tell you the story of my life... Sixteen, clumsy and shy. That's the story of my life..."

The song filled her car, sending her into a gentle hum.

She mumbled along to the lyrics, not wanting to get too loud around me.

I knew she was insecure about her singing voice. She was insecure about everything, now that I think about it.

"Hey," I started after the chorus lessened,"I love you." I smiled cheesily.

"I love you too." She giggled back. "No...I-I love you. More than you do. More t-than normal."

She giggled again,"Yeah. I love you too. Just the same. I thought you knew that."

"You do?" I asked, my tone serious and dry.

"Yes!" She pulled the car over, leaving her headlights on.

She turned to me, resting her pale hands on either side of my equally as pale face.

"I love you, Richie Tozier." She smiled after my name.

I looked down at her chest, my eyes falling right above the seam of her red tank top.

The necklace caught my attention, as it always had.

It was a cherry pendant on a gold chain. I gifted it to her for her birthday.

While out shopping with Eddie and Bev, I walked past the small antique store.

The pendant glistened in the sun, grabbing my attention. My eyes were drawn to the jewelry just as they were to her.

I didn't even bother to interrupt their pathetic debate to alert them of my whereabouts.

Opening the door of the shop, I went to the display I spotted the necklace at.

Locked...

I went up to the front desk where the clerk sat.

"What can I do for ya, sir?" He asked. I could hear the misty nights spent in a Boston pub thick in his accent.

"There's a necklace I saw. I'd like to buy it." I tried my best to sound dignified.

While it wasn't hard to look the part, my thin frame showed weakness and immaturity.

At 6'2, most steered clear of me if I was determined, some people had learned my height wasn't relevant to my threat.

I was flimsy and easily distracted.

The clerk nodded, grabbing a key-ring from the desk.

He lead me to the display, then stuck the key into the glass case.

I pointed to the pendant. Ruby's surrounded with gold, hanging from a golden chain.

"This one?" He pulled it from the display. I nodded. "I'll ring ya up."

He lead me back to the counter and I paid for the gift.

"Have a nice night." He nodded. "You too sir." I nodded back.

When I exited the store Bev and Eddie were no where to be found.

I shrugged it off, heading home alone. Boy was I gonna hear an earful of this tomorrow...

Her cool hands pressing into my face brought me back to the present.

I looked into her eyes. They were as icy as her hands, sending a chill down my spine.

"I love you more, Lexi Valance." I smiled. "Cherry." She corrected. I nodded, just as I had at the clerk.

"Richie!" She whisper shouted as I opened her window.

"What?" I smirked, climbing into the peach painted room.

"You scared me half to death!" She slapped my shoulder.

"Sorry sweets." I laughed.

"I didn't think you were gonna show, actually." She smirked, recovering her bravado.

"Well, here I am, Red." I smirked. Her eyes rolled at my name.

"I brought you something." I held out an envelope. The bright white bounced off the soft pink glow of her lamp.

"Is this for being late, or for my birthday?" She asked wryly, cocking a red brow.

"Both," I chuckled. "Open it!" I smiled. "I will. Jeez, eager much?" She laughed warmly.

She sat on the edge of her bed, envelope in her thin hands.

She ran a lithe finger between the seal, breaking open the package.

First she pulled a note card from the envelope.

It was peach, the same as her walls.

She smiled as she read the poem scribed on the back in ink.

Sweet like a cherry, With a tangy after-taste

Bright and beautiful, You are everything I have to admire about this fruit

I thought it was treacherous, but she immediately threw her arms around me.

I hugged her back fleetingly. "There's something else." I smiled.

She pulled the necklace from the bottom of the white envelope with care.

The smile that enveloped her face before grew brighter.

"Ohhh Richie, I love it!" She once again threw her arms around me.

Her icy hands and eyes bored into me, ringing me from a flashback, once again.

"I love every detail of you."

Her smile rang through my mind as I hugged her pillow closer to my body.

I awoke at 4 in the morning to the phone ringing.

"Cherry?" I exclaimed as I jumped up. I looked around and saw I was still alone. I had fallen asleep waiting for her.

I found the phone along the wall, picking up the receiver with haste.

"Cherry?" I asked curtly as I picked it up. "No, sir-"

Cherry left at 8:45, on her way to the diner. She had a 9-2 shift tonight.

I found her hours odd, but I believed her. She had no reason to lie.

Her hair was tied up, pined to the top of her head. Her apron was tied around her black waitress dress, and she had her name tag on.

"I'll see you later babe." She kissed my cheek. "I'll wait up for you!" I called as she left.

Although we were both only Sixteen, we agreed to share a small apartment in New York.

We both had a crazy idea to run away from home. Her parents were never home, and my father's only use for me was an anger reliever.

So she gathered $500, and I rounded up almost $300 and we headed for the big city at three in the morning.

We lived there for a year when I received the call.

We started out, two broke kids in love who were lost in New York.

We had decided on a little apartment in Greenwich Village. It had one bedroom, connected to a small kitchen. It had a closet and a small bathroom as well.

I pulled into the lot of the apartment building the next morning. She had the key in her back pocket.

We slept in the car the night we got into New York.

"Alright....here it goes." She smiled, twisting her key in the door.

The open door revealed our new home.

She ran her nimble fingertips along the walls, feeling the plaster.

She turned to me, frowning,"I wish the walls were yellow."

I laughed,"Maybe when we get a little more money we can paint them."

Her warm smile bubbled to the surface of her chiseled face. "I would love that!"

We moved our suitcases into the apartment, setting them on the wooden floor.

She stole a small lamp from her living room back home, and a few paintings from the walls.

When she offered the items I laughed, but accepted them.

After three months of working we both gathered enough money for a small couch and a dresser.

"-Sir, we've found a car that is said to belong to an Alexis Valance... Her last known number was this one."

His words swirled around me, settling into the air, sitting uncomfortably.

I got a cab as quickly as I could to the hospital he gave me.

"Mr. Tozier?" A voice awoke me from a dreary daze. "We need you to identify the body."

"Why? Is she okay?" I asked, worry and hurt filling my words.

He lead me to a room, Cherry's red hair immediately catching my eye.

"Sir, we need you to-" "Is she okay? Is she okay?" I was screaming by the latter of my question.

"Mr. Tozier, please, remain calm." The man gripped my shoulder as a nurse tried to calm me down.

"Remain calm? She's-she's dead! She's fucking dead!" I screamed.

"So this is, in fact Alexis Valance?" He asked. "Cherry! Her name is Cherry!" I called out.

Tears were spilling down my face as I looked at her.

I rested my hand on top of hers. It was cold. Not the icy coldness they always possessed, but an inhuman bitterness. Lifeless, empty...

I looked at the buckets of paint, marked "sunny yellow".

We had primed the walls already and were planning to paint on her next day off.

I was filled with a deep remorse as I looked at the aluminium containers.

She never got her yellow walls.

There was a knock at the heavy white door. It sounded dignified.

I stood lazily to get it. "Mr. Tozier?" It was the man I received the call from...

"These items were recovered in the accident. We figured you would want them." He nodded as he turned his heal.

I closed the door and slunk to the couch.

I went through the box with care, admiring her things.

The final item I pulled out was a cherry pendant necklace, complete with a gold chain.

I can still remember her smile when I gave it to her...

[lapushh]

Spirit- chapter 7

Tell me what you think!

1163 words

Kaeolynn swayed her hips, her mid-thigh dress flowing beneath her. Things had been fine. Jacob was acting like the entire “bonfire situation” hadn’t happened. She didn’t want him to pretend nothing had gone down, she wanted him to grow with her and learn from it. She knew she had to pick her battles, though, because she was winning a war.

When Paul walked in, she barely spared him a glance. He sat in one of the chairs, sighing loudly.

“Yes?” She asked, attention still almost entirely on the salad she was making for herself.

“Can we please get you a couch? Jake has one that’s just been chilling in his garage for years. These chairs are nice and all, but they’re not great for long sessions of sitting.”

“I didn’t plan on having friends where when I sold the one I had. Plus, my mom died on it and that’s all kinds of bad energy.”

Paul nodded. It was fair, but obviously she was going to have friends. Not only was she gorgeous, she was a very likable person.

“Are you here personally or professionally?” She asked, grabbing her bowl and moving to sit next to him. They were now closer than either of them had originally expected, and Paul really trusted her.

“Both, I guess. I’m here professionally, but I wouldn’t be if we weren’t friends,” he said.

When he’d first met her at the Clearwaters’, she was nothing more than a pretty girl. He liked the way she looked and that was it. Soon enough, he liked the way that she spoke to him too. She was deeply honest, and unafraid to speak her mind no matter who was around.

“Are you okay?” She set her bowl down and placed a hand on his arm. She felt like she’d known him for years.

“When we first met, why did you say you wanted to meet with me? Do you think I’m broken and just can’t see it? Is there something wrong with me, Kae?”

She could feel the emotion radiating off of him. There was no anger, mostly just fear. He’d been holding onto this for a while.

“I don’t think you’re broken, Paul. I think you’re afraid that you are, though. The only problem you have is how you see yourself. You “play” girls, and maybe it’s just because you like sex. You’re worth much more than that, though. You are very worthy of of real love, of someone who cares for you. Regardless of who you have been, or how you’ve allowed people to see you, you’re a good person. You can’t allow your own afflictions to hold you back from the life that you truly deserve and the person that you deserve to be.”

Kaeolynn wasn’t a therapist. She didn’t want to be. Paul was her friend, though, and helping in any sense was her duty. If he was settling for less than her should, she was going to help.

“Well what do I do, then? Stop having sex?” He asked. This was beyond new to him. He’d never opened up or allowed others to.

“Not necessarily. But understand that life holds more than that. You live life and do fun things all the time, but you don’t take the time to enjoy it. One day, it will all be gone. Be at peace with the real you. Get your anger out and learn to appreciate the small things. Learn to appreciate yourself.”

“I can’t do this shit on my own, Kae. I need help.”

“I’m here. I’ll help you. I know the guys and Leah are here for you too. You’re not on your own even for a second. Even if no one else wants to fight for you, even if you don’t want to fight for yourself, I’m fighting for you. I’ll kick your ass before I let you live without being happy, Paul Lahote.”

He wanted to hug her. Paul wanted to hug her and never let go. It was the most real conversation he’d ever had with anyone. It was surreal to think that this 5 foot, petite, flower-crown princess had his back. She’d seen his soul. She’d seen the blackness within him and lit a candle to bring back the light.

* * *

Paul and Kaeolynn had spent the day together. Grocery shopping, coffee break, and an unexpected trip to get a couch. They both continued to smile the entire time.

“Another salad?” Paul asked, looking into her bowl.

“Yeah, I have to be careful with what I eat. The price of me being able to heal others is that I can’t heal myself. I can’t be a conductor of health and good faith while being less than prime. It’s a part of the life.”

Paul understood, at least to a certain degree. It made sense, it just wasn’t something he’d considered.

“Remind me not to offer you a cheeseburger, then.”

“Offer me one on Sunday. That’s my weekly day of indulgence.”

Kaeolynn threw herself onto the black leather couch she and Paul had just picked up. It was very comfortable, though she didn’t want to admit it.

“How are things with Jake going?” Paul questioned, taking the seat next to her and allowing himself to sink in. He was hoping she’d open up just as he’d done.

“Okay, I guess. He’s kinda acting like it never happened, which is okay in theory, but it did happen and I don’t want to ignore it. At the same time, if he’s happy pretending for right now, I want to be okay with it. He held on to Bella for a long time and whatever methods he needs to use to get over that, I support him.”

She was being honest. It was a difficult situation for her. While she didn’t care for Bella at this point, she was inevitably a part of Kaeolynn’s life.

“Are you gonna talk to him about it?”

“Maybe. I wanna talk through it with Leah first though. My brain just works better when I talk to her. Honestly, I could marry her. She’d just incredible and I know that no matter what, nothing can tear us apart.”

“Sounds a little lesbian.”

“She taught me how to kiss.”

Paul did a double-take. Did he just hear what he thought he’d heard her say?

“Excuse me?” He asked, ready to beg for the pull details. She laughed at shoved his shoulder.

“When we were kids, idiot. We were kids with nothing to do and no parents around. We caught a porno on T.V. once and it raised some questions that could only be answered with experience. So yeah, at 10 years old, Leah taught me how to kiss.”

It was much less sexy than he’s hoped. When he was a kid, he’d practiced on the back of his hand. It made sense, though. He’d heard stories of how utterly close they were as children. In that aspect, history was now repeating itself.

@emmycall @paull-lahottie @the100thtwilightmaze @inumorph @greengellybean

[theinvulnerabletide]

Headcanon meme: (answer for whoever you can think of things for I guess) 1, 8, 11, 12, 23, 26, 29, 30, 34 :3

Okay okay okay. This got long because some of them turned into vignettes, so it’s gonna be under thecut.

1.) Love

Forsomeone who professed to be a loner, Lyra has loved so many people in her life.Her mother, first and brightest and most dearly, murdered on her way back fromher shift at the pub, the Stone Crows, her gang growing up, including her bestfriend Kora, who got scooped off the streets when some passing mage saw her set something on fire with her mind (which now strikes Lyra as ironic, consideringher current travelling companions, and her own predicament).

And then her newfound family,her Magpies. The ones that were murdered so cruelly in front of her.

Love and loss are intertwinedfor Lyra, the brilliance of lightning followed by world-shaking thunder. Whichis why she has, wholeheartedly, decided to stop caring about people. They won’tleave if she doesn’t get attached, and even if they do, well, she won’t feelanything right? Win win.

8.) DreamsIt’s not uncommon for Whisperto dream of water. Even if it wasn’t literally her element,she spent so much of her life surrounded by it; snow and rain pattering on thestone, the underground inlet, the blighted mermaid tank, that it of course itwould enter her dreams at some point.

Tonight though, tonight isdifferent. Tonight she dreams of depths, of an ocean so deep there is nogranulated sunlight to illuminate it, and even her comfort with the dark isn’tenough to make it feel less… crushing. She sees in staticky black and whitehere, feels the way the currents tug insistently at her. She has to remindherself that she can breathe.

There’s movement there, in thedepths. It takes up the whole of her vision. It’s just the suggestion of agreat thing slowly winding and unwinding, pulsing slightly as if with laboredbreath. It does not move against the current. It directs it, and it makes herown breath catch in her throat. Not with fear, but with excitement. 

When she wakes, she swears shecan still feel it, the current tugging at her, the great thing directing herforwards. The letter appears the next day, and the day after that, she isgone. 

12.) Worst Enemy

According to Az’ar, her worst enemies are the Godsthemselves.

The Gods are arbitrary and cruel things, starting and endinglife as it pleases them, for mere entertainment. They set up laws,contradictory and unforgiving, a universe full of pain and misery, and createdsentient creatures to wade through the mud and experience every bit of it.Growing up in the Shadowfell, Az’ar has witnessed it all, and grew to despisethe traditions of the Shadar’kai, the same traditions that honor Hala by tryingto protect the living things she holds so dear, especially from the unnaturalundead things she abhors, the traditions that pretend to honor Her brother bysending them back to His domain, and by dying well.

She left her people, somethingelse that was forbidden, and fought and killed far too many of them in order tocross over to the Prime Material Plane, the tear she made between worldsallowing a few of those undead monstrosities to cross with her. It was aregrettable loss, ones that she lays again at the feet of the Gods; if herpeople had not been obsessed with their supposed sacred duties, they would nothave needed to die.

Az’ar intends to wrest their claws from her chest, by making itso she can never die, and then, she will end their grip on the rest of thePlanes, even if it means killing them. She hope it does. That would be a sweetirony indeed.

23.) Romance

Orianais a romantic. Probably in the classical movement sense as well as in thehopeless romantic sense. She has this ideal of herself: knight in shiningarmor, a blazing paragon of Wahreight’s mercy and light, beating back thedarkness and protecting the innocent.

She also is kind of obsessedwith romance novels, and novels that we might consider romance novels due tothe way books are sold, but, unlike Whisper, prefers the ones that hold a highideal of love than the vulgar. Which isn’t to say she won’t read books with sexin them, only that she prefers more comedies of manners. Jehanne Augere’s Dignityand Discrimination remains her favorite novel (and she finally got a copyof her own the last time we visited Fantasy Half Price Books), and she’s morelikely to blush at the scene where the elven hero confesses his love for thevery human Elisabet. 26.) Beauty

Thecostume is… well. It’s tight. And barely there. Whisper runs her hands thelength of her torso, fingers skimming cut-outs in the shimmering golden fabricat her sides where her midnight skin provides contrast, and she lets out ashuddering breath. She doesn’t know whether its nerves or awe that’s making herstomach clench uncomfortably but… either way.

She sneaks a peak in themirror and looks away almost immediately. Salt and storm, she is glad hermother will never see her in this, or she’d be dead. Brutally and messily andall over the place.

She sneaks another look, outof the corner of her eye at first, then straight on. The leotard is almostblinding in the way the golden cloth catches the light (Ignatius’ choice, nodoubt), small black stitching and sequins giving the illusion of scales downher stomach. At her hips is this strange, diaphanous half-skirt, more like thefrills of a tiger fish than an actual garment. The neckline—if it can be calledthat— plunges far deeper than anything she’s ever worn, and she mutters a quickprayer that she won’t spill out of this thing at an inopportune moment. Or anopportune one. She is not being paid enough for that.

But the effect… She takes astep back, so she can see the whole effect, the golden ribbons wrapped aroundher horns and pinned in her hair, the ridiculous amount of eyeshadow, thestreaks of gold shimmer on her cheeks, she looks… ethereal. Magical. Shestretches one indigo hand out, and her reflection does the same, lightlymeeting her in the mirror. She watches herself smile.

“It looks beautiful on you,”comes a voice from behind her, wobbling like the owner is about to burst intotears. “You look beautiful, Whisper. Just brilliant…”

She whirls around, a scowlslotting into place. “I can’t believe he wants me to wear this, Terrance!”  

The huge man doesn’t seem tohear her, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Oh, I outdid myself. Just wait until the audience see you. You’re going to dazzle them.”

Whisper laughs under herbreath, and sneaks another look at herself. Okay. Maybe it’s not so bad afterall.

29.) Bedroom (and 11.) Best Friend).

She wasclose, she was so freaking close! If she could just figure out thethaumodynamic stabilizers and the aetheric channels and how to connect them tothe theurgic couplings, then the armor would definitely be finished beforeschool started. Her tongue peaked out of the corner of her mouth as sheconcentrated, wand on one hand, tweezers in the other, a soldering ironfloating above her, held by her mage hand. 

The workbench in front of heris littered with such tools, awl and a few other small sharp blades and hergrindstone, linen thread and an assortment of needles, little colored glass ballsshe’d spent weeks making and enchanting so they wouldn’t break when she used them,and small gems that had cost quite a chunk of the money she made from selling herclockwork toys, not to mention all the other tools she didn’t currently needfor this project. The bed next to her, on the other side, had the rest of thearmor, chest plate and second gauntlet, both nearly finished save for the collectorsthat would collect the untethered thaumic energy from the aether.  

She’s so close. She can feelit.

“Celandine!” her mother calledfrom downstairs, “Celandine, your friend is here!” 

“What?” she freezes, and thewand released the spell it was holding… at the wrong part of the gauntlet. Andsomething started smoking. “Shit!”“Celandine?”

A quick prestidigitation puts the fire out but it definitely smelt like magic gone wrong and scorched leather.“Oh, hell. Coming Mom!”

”I’m sending her up!”  

“Shit!” Celandine cast a lookabout her room. Her chairs were full of clothes and her bed was covered in armorand there was spare leather and clothes and books all over the floor and why hadn’tshe learned the invisible servant spell.

“Hey, Celandine? Your Momsaid—” Caela pauses in the doorway, the top of her head nearly brushing thetop of the doorframe. Her eyes widen as she takes in the state of the room. 

“I know! It’s messy I’m sorry.I got uh…” she looks down at the gauntlet and then back up at her best friend,smiling weakly. “I forgot you were coming over. I’m sorry.” She puts the gauntleton the workbench and reaches over the small space to her bed, which at leastonly had the breastplate and the other gauntlet on it. “Sit down and give me asecond, I’ll have this place tidied up in a…”

But Caela is already bendingover, gathering up the nearest books that had fallen over. “It’s okay. I’llhelp. Why don’t you tell me what you were working on?”And Celandine beams.  

30.) Sex

Oriana pressesthe pillow harder over her head, trying to block out the sound from the onlyother bed in the room. Since she’d been knighted in the service of Wahreight,she’d been moved out of the general barracks and into a shared room;unfortunately, her roommate decided that that was enough privacy in order tocarry on her… assignations with one of the paladins still in training. And theidea of actually talking to Ritika about it was blighted mortifying, so hereshe lies, pillows piled on her head, face burning as she tried to pretend shewas not hearing what she was hearing.

34.) AffectionIt’s not that Whisper’s family was not affectionate. Sheremembers her father’s hand on her head, her mother’s approving smile. Hugsfrom her brothers, kisses on her forehead from the governess. But compared tothe carnival, her family was as touched-starved as any dwarf.

Affection wasphysical and platonic and above all, free among them, holding hands and huggingfor no reason, kisses on cheeks and foreheads and lips, giant cuddle piles inone of the main tents the afternoon after a big show, all of them just waitingfor the inevitable cry to start packing up. 

And the sex. Oh, seaand storms, the sex. There was just so much of it. After the first year she’dgone from having sex once in her entire life to having had more partners thanshe could count, of so many genders, in several different… permutations. Things would just…escalate. Someone would be feeling bad and a cuddle pile or a platonic kisswould turn into make-you-feel-better sex, someone would decide that they wereboard and seek someone out, or two people would be fighting and suddenly they’dbe up against the wall (that happened with Ignatius and a few of the othersmore than she would care to admit), or they’d be coming down off a high of asuccessful heist or a show, adrenaline still singing high gospel within them,and next thing you knew you’d be tearing off someone’s clothes. Maybeseveral someone’s.

But the real world doesn’twork that way. And after a bad experience or two on her way to Hazelscar, she isthoroughly aware of that. Most people don’t like being touched.

She meets Adoraor and Keithiafirst, and she makes sure to keep her hands to herself. Even when Adoraor isbleeding out and she has the stupid idea to stick a knife in his chest to seeif it’ll heal him, because, hey, it worked on that orc, or when Keithia (notThia, not yet) places a hand on her shoulder to press healing magic, warm andtingling, into her skin. Not even when they’re barring the door of a cold stonechamber and waiting out the night, and she knows she could stop them both fromshivering. 

She’s almost starving from it,achingly aware of where people are in relation to her at all times. She finallygives in and hugs Keithia about two weeks in. She feels Keithia freeze up for ahalf a second and she closes her eyes, waiting for the rejection, before Keithiasqueezes back, just for a second, before she eases back. Whisper has to forceherself not to cling, to let her new friend go. 

Oriana, she learns, hatesbeing touched at all and the boys are weird about it, so she has to make ithigh fives and playful slaps and punches to the arm. She can hug Frank, atleast, he’s not strange about it. Sing-songtoo, until he vanishes. 

She nearly cries when it getscold enough that they have to huddle in the Magnificent Bubble (also screw Leomund,she’s the one casting the spell, she’ll call it what she wants), and the Bubbleis just big enough for them. If they huddle. It’s almost like the piles she’sused to, and she plays it off with a few sighs and rolled eyes, but when sheends up cuddled next to Twiggy and Isao of all people, she has to bury her headin her arms, so no one will see her face. It’s almost good enough.

[i-own-your-wifi]

I Like Me Better When I’m With You

Three fics in one day guys, that’s it I’m done for now

I stole the egg magic trick from a tumblr post that i can’t find right now

[AO3]

[ff.net]

Benji knew a lot of things. Benji knew magic was his calling the first time he saw a magic show when he was 5 years old. He knew he was going to be a Treblemaker when he first saw them perform. He knew that he and Jesse would be friends and that he and Bumper would never be. He knew as soon as he laid eyes on Emily Junk that she would be an important person in his life.

 Their first meeting was awkward and their second was worse, but Emily laughed and her eyes lit up and Benji knew he needed to know this girl. He loitered outside Bellas rehearsal waiting for Emily to come out so he could walk her to the Bella house and show her a magic trick and make her laugh. Sometimes Beca would glare at him until he left and sometimes Amy would put him in a headlock and yell about dingo wrestling but it was worth it to see Emily rush over to him.

 He knew Emily was close with her mom. He heard stories about the old Bellas traditions and Katherine Junk’s college experience. The one thing he didn’t know about Emily’s mom was what she looked like.

 He waited outside of Bellas rehearsal wearing his Treblemaker’s jacket. The Trebles were having rehearsal with their performance outfits on today and he didn’t have time to go to the Treble house and change before rehearsal. There was a woman waiting as well. Benji didn’t think about it, he was busy trying to explain to Jesse why he was going to be a few minutes late. She was giving him weird looks but he ignored her. It wasn’t until Emily came out that he realized who she was.

 “Benji!” Emily ran up and hugged him. “What’s with the outfit?”

 “Oh, Treble’s rehearsal. Our first performance is coming up.” Benji said.

 “Well, it looks nice.” Emily smiled.

 “Emily?” Benji and Emily looked at the woman who was standing a few feet away.

 “Mom? What are you doing here?” Emily walked over and hugged her mom. Benji fidgeted with his jacket. “You didn’t tell me you were coming to visit.”

 “I wanted it to be a surprise dear, I didn’t realize you had plans.” Katherine nodded toward Benji. Benji saw the glare she sent when Emily looked away.

 “Oh,” Emily looked at Benji, “Well, I mean, Benji is… we could…”

 “It’s fine, I have rehearsal anyway Em, I just came to say hi.” Benji cleared his throat. “It was nice meeting you Mrs. Junk.”

 Benji rushed out of the building. He didn’t know why Katherine Junk wouldn’t like him, but he suspected it had to do with the Bellas rule against “Treble-boning”.  Beca took out that rule when she became captain but some of the old Bellas still believed it should be followed.

 Emily called him after her mom left. She apologized for him meeting her mom like that and making him leave. He assured that it was fine, he didn’t want to keep Emily from spending time with her mom and he wasn’t lying, he did have rehearsal. Emily apologized still and invited him over to make up for it. They just listened to music in Emily’s room while Benji’s dove flew around the room after he used it in a trick.

  He invited her over to watch Star Wars with him. She hadn’t seen any of the movies and he wanted to be with her when she saw A New Hope for the first time. Jesse complained that he wasn’t invited too because “Star Wars has the best soundtrack ever”. Benji promised to watch it with him the next day but that didn’t stop Jesse from asking Benji if he was sure he couldn’t come.

 Jesse stopped Benji after Treble’s rehearsal. “Look, Benji, Emily’s great but she’s new to the franchise and we’re both fans, and you know she’ll be focused on the movie anyway, and I’ll invite Beca and it’ll be the four of us.” Jesse said.

 “Jesse,” Benji said, “You’re my best friend, and I always like watching movies with you, but… I was hoping… well… I want it to just be me and Emily, alright? Do you… do you understand?” Benji looked hopefully at Jesse.

 Jesse looked confused for a moment before he understood. “Oh! I get you. Don’t worry about it, I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll get the guys to do something that night so you’ll have the house to yourself.” The look Jesse was giving him made Benji feel sick but he smiled anyway and thanked him.

 Benji was nervous the whole week before. He didn’t know of Emily thought it was a date or if she was thinking the same thing Jesse was. He didn’t want to ask her in case she did think it was a date and would cancel if he said it wasn’t. But he also didn’t want her to think it wasn’t a date either. He was stuck assuming the worst but hoping for the best.

 He didn’t know what to wear. He didn’t want to dress too casual in case Emily dressed fancy, but he didn’t want to dress too fancy in case Emily was casual. He stared at his closet for an hour before asking Jesse for help and considering calling his mom. In the end he decided to dress in the middle. Casual enough to be watching a movie but fancy enough to look like he cared about looking nice.

 He walked to the Bella house to “pick up” Emily. It wasn’t really picking up if he was just walking them around the lake to the Treble house. He knocked on the door and waited. Chloe opened it and ushered him in.

 “You look nice Benji. I like your shirt, where’d you get it?” Chloe asked.

 Benji looked down at his shirt. “Thanks, its Jesse’s actually.”

 Chloe smiled at him. “That’s nice. Emily will be down in a minute, she’s almost ready.”

 Benji nodded. They stood silently for a few moments until Beca walked into the front room from the kitchen. She glared at Benji.

 “Benji.” She said.

 “Hey Beca.” Benji cleared his throat. “How’s uh, how’s rehearsals going?”

 “Fine.” Beca stepped closer to him. “What movie are you watching?”

 “A New Hope.” Benji said. “Star Wars.”

 Beca nodded. “And the other Trebles? Where will they be?”

 Benji swallowed loudly. “Um… I think Jesse is taking them to a party on campus.”

 “I see.” Beca took another step toward him but Chloe grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

 Chloe started whispering to Beca. Benji couldn’t hear what Chloe said but he could hear Beca’s response.

 “I’m just looking for out for her Chloe! I know what this is! I dated Jesse and watching a movie alone was never just watching a movie! He’s… they’re… she’s too young for that Chlo!” Beca said sharply.

 Benji looked at the ground and shuffled his feet. He knew what Jesse meant when he asked him to leave their room so he and Beca could watch a movie. And he knew Beca never stayed the night because it was late. He felt sick at the thought of that happening with Emily but he couldn’t tell Beca and have her understand.

 “Benji!”

 Benji looked up and saw Emily coming down the stairs. He beamed at her. It seemed that she had the same thought as he did. He felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to wear.

 “Ready to go?” Emily asked. Benji nodded.

 “Have fun you two!” Chloe said.

 “Thanks!” Emily quickly put her shoes on. Benji held the door open for her.

 “Now wait a second!” Beca called after them. Benji could hear Chloe trying to stop her. “I just want to ask Benji a few questions.”

 Emily sighed. “Beca, chill. I can take care of myself okay? Stop being a dick about this.”

 Beca looked at Chloe then rolled her eyes. “Have her back by ten.” Beca pointed at Benji. “I will be waiting.” She stormed up the stairs.

 “I’m sorry about Beca.” Emily said as they walked. She fiddled with the bottom of her shirt. “She means well, but she can get, you know.” Emily waved her hand.

 “It’s okay.” Benji said. “She was looking out for you. I’m glad she cares.”

 Emily smiled and bumped shoulders with him. “You’re really great Benji, I’m really glad we’re friends.”

 Benji coughed. “Yeah, me too.”

 Emily blushed and began rambling about her classes.

 They finished the movie at midnight. They spent a while deciding on snacks and Emily kept pausing it to ask questions or tell stories the scenes reminded her of. Benji didn’t mind, he would watch all movies like that if Emily wanted.

 Benji looked at Emily when the credits rolled. “So… What did you think?”

 “It was good.” Emily said, “I mean, the effects weren’t like, super good and the acting was okay but I liked it.”

 “Yeah,” Benji laughed, “The newer ones have better effects, but this was prime special effects at the time it was made.” Benji looked at the clock. “It’s late, I’ll walk you back.”

 Emily shook her head. “No, its fine, it’s not that far.”

 “I want to make sure you get home safe. It’s not a problem.” Benji insisted.

 Emily pouted. “But then you’ll walk home by yourself.”

 “One of us will have to and I’d rather it be me than you.”

 Emily paused. “I could just stay here tonight and walk back in the morning? If that’s alright.”

 Benji blinked. He was tempted to say no. Emily bit her lip and looked away and he realized Emily was as anxious as he was. “Yeah, okay.” He said. “You can stay in my room and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

 “No!” Emily said. “It’s your house, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

 “Trust me, it’s safer for you in my room. I mean, at least I know what’s happened on that couch.” Benji laughed.

 “Why don’t we both just stay in your room?” Emily asked hesitantly.

 Benji paled. He could feel his anxiety rising. “Oh, um, I… well… uh, I mean…”

 Emily put her hand over Benji’s. “I’ll just sleep on one side and you’ll sleep on the other, is that okay? We can make a pillow divider if that makes you more comfortable.”

 Benji smiled. “Okay,” Benji picked up the snack bowl and their cups. “I’ll put these away and you can change in my room. You can borrow one of my shirts if you want.”

 “Thanks.” Emily skipped upstairs.

 Benji took the dishes to the kitchen and tried to process what was happening. He had a girl sleeping in his room. With him. He never had people stay over before. He didn’t know what to do. Should he offer her something? Or should he wait until she asks? He didn’t know.

 He waited outside his room before he knocked to make sure Emily was ready before he came in. He knocked and waited for Emily to let him in. Emily was wearing one of his Captain America shirts and his gym shorts. He grabbed his pyjamas and headed to the bathroom to change.

 “Hey, you can change in here, I have to use the bathroom anyway.” Emily said.

 Benji quickly changed while Emily was in the bathroom and sat on his bed. He felt his nerves coming back. What if Emily thought this was a different kind of sleepover? He shook his head. Emily wasn’t like that.

 Emily came back and settled on her side of the bed. Benji laid awkwardly on his side, trying not to take up too much space. His bed wasn’t big enough for this. Emily turned to face him.

 “Goodnight Benji.” Emily whispered.

 “Goodnight Emily.”

 They woke up to ten missed calls from Beca and one from Chloe. They shifted in their sleep so Emily’s head was tucked into his neck. Benji didn’t know if he should move or wake Emily, luckily for him Emily’s phone rang and woke her up. Emily answered it and Benji didn’t need to guess to know it was Beca.

 Benji sat up and waited while Emily reassured Beca that she was fine, she was still with Benji, and that she was only sleeping there because it was late. Benji scoffed at that. Beca wouldn’t believe that. Emily was on the phone for ten minutes. She hung up and looked sheepishly at Benji.

 “I’ll make you breakfast and I’ll walk you back.” Benji said. “What would you like milady?”

 Emily hummed. “Can you make me pancakes?”

 “Of course I can. Would you like pancakes?” Benji asked.

 “Yes!” Emily squealed. She jumped up and hugged Benji. “You’re the best!”

 Benji got out the ingredients for pancakes. He thought of an idea. He picked up and egg when Emily wasn’t looking. He turned and looked at Emily and waited for her to look up. When she did she gave him a questioning look.

 “Wanna see a magic trick?” Benji asked.

 “Yes! What are you going to do?” Emily asked excitedly.

 “Well, we need eggs to make pancakes right?” Benji asked. Emily nodded. “Eggs come from chickens but we don’t have a chicken here.”

 “Oh my god, are you going to pull out a chicken?” Emily asked.

 “I don’t have a chicken, but I have the next best thing: the ability to make and egg appear out of nowhere.” Benji opened his mouth and spat out an egg. Emily started laughing.

 “What?” Benji asked, “Did you not like it?”

 “No, no it was good, just… seriously? You just spat out an egg! I wasn’t expecting that. That was wild.” Emily said.

 Benji waved his fingers in front of his face. “Good, I like being unexpected.”

 Benji made the pancakes while Emily told him about the Bellas. He was glad Emily was starting to fit in with them. He knew Emily felt like an outsider before and he was glad that she doesn’t feel like that anymore.

 They ate and Benji walked Emily home. They walked at a leisurely pace and Emily told him that she would tell the Bellas about his egg trick because she thinks they’ll like it. Benji ended up being late to his morning class but it was worth it.

  Benji was working on his homework when someone knocked on his door. He looked up confused. Jesse would normally just walk in, and the other Trebles wouldn’t knock, they would just yell until he answered. His next thought went to Emily, but she normally texts before she comes over. Benji walked over and opened his door. His eyes widened when he saw Beca standing on the other side.

 “Jesse should be in his room, if you’re looking for him.” Benji said.

 “I’m not here for Jesse, I’m here to talk to you.” Beca said. She crossed her arms. “Can I come in?”

 Benji stepped aside and let her in. “What’s up?”

 Beca glanced around his room. Her gaze lingered on the photo of Benji and Emily on his desk. Benji swallowed hard.

 “What are you doing with Emily?” Beca asked.

 “What am I doing?” Benji asked. Beca nodded. “I don’t think I understand.”

 “What are you doing with Emily? It’s not a hard question Benji.” Beca said.

 “We’re hanging out. We’re friends.” Benji said.

 “Just friends?” Beca said skeptically.

 “Yeah, just friends.”

 Beca squinted at him. “I don’t know if I believe you, so I’ll say what I came here to say. Emily is young, okay? She’s barely 18 and she doesn’t understand dating and sex and stuff. And, I know that the trebleboning rule isn’t a thing anymore but I will reinstate it if you so much as think of hurting her.” Beca paused. “And you’ll have to get a lock for your door. Chloe might not agree to hurting you but I will.”

 Benji gulped. “I’m not… I don’t, um… I wouldn’t hurt her. Not on purpose. And I don’t want to have sex with her.”

 “Don’t lie to me Benji.” Beca snapped. “You’re a guy and she’s a pretty girl, you’ll sleep with her if she gave you a chance.”

 “I don’t…” Benji huffed in annoyance. “I don’t want to sleep with her. I don’t want to sleep with anyone. I feel sick just thinking about it, I don’t want to have sex ever and I don’t need you to tell me how I feel!” Benji said loudly. Beca took a step back. “I’m sorry.” Benji said quieter. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” Benji sat on his bed.

 “No, I…” Beca joined Benji on the bed. “Do you really feel like that Benji?”

 “Yeah,” Benji pulled at his blankets. “I know you probably don’t get it and think I’m weird but… I can’t hide it anymore. So you don’t need to give me the speech on consent and respecting Emily because that isn’t something I ever want to do.”

 “I never said I didn’t get it.” Beca shifted uncomfortably. “I never felt like… sex was something I wanted until I met Jesse. And that was why I stayed with him for so long even when our relationship was going downhill. I thought… I thought if he made me feel like that then I have to stay with him because no one else will. I didn’t think anyone would make me feel like I wasn’t a freak.” Beca blushed. “Does Emily know?”

 Benji shook his head. “I don’t know if she… thinks about me like that. And I don’t want to assume that she does if she doesn’t.”

 Beca nodded. “Well, now that that’s over, I’m going to leave.” Beca stood up. Benji stood up too. Beca stopped before she left. She looked Benji in the eyes. “And by the way, this conversation never happened, okay? No one knows I came here and Chloe will yell at me if she finds out.”

 Benji nodded. “I never saw you.”

 Beca smiled. “Well, see you later.”

  Jesse was flying to Denmark to watch the World’s Competition. Benji was glad Jesse and Beca were still friends and that Jesse still supported her. After what Beca told him, Benji knew Jesse was an important person in her life. Jesse surprised Benji with a ticket for himself, explaining that he didn’t want to be in a different country alone while the Bellas rehearsed and performed. He wanted a friend there and Benji admitted that it would be nice to surprise Emily.

 The Bellas were busy with World’s preparation so they didn’t have time to go out sightseeing with Jesse and Benji when they got there. Beca told Jesse that the Bellas went out a little before and that there was time after Worlds was over. They didn’t mind. They knew this competition was important and that Beca and Chloe believed that the Bellas full concentration was the best way to win. They didn’t know that Beca was so stressed about Worlds that she forgot to tell the other Bellas that Jesse and Benji were coming.

 Beca had given Jesse and Benji backstage passes so they could see the Bellas before they performed. Jesse had left Benji as soon as they got backstage to go see the other groups and Benji went to find Emily.

 He found her standing by herself and fixing her hair. He walked over to her.

 “You look nice.” Benji said.

 Emily jumped and turned around. “Benji! You’re here! I can’t believe it!” Emily hugged Benji tightly. Benji could tell she was nervous and tried to reassure her.

 “You’ll do great Em, I know it.” Benji said.

 Emily pulled back from the hug. She looked at Benji silently for a moment before grabbing his face and kissing him. Benji made a noise of surprise and pulled back.

 “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Emily said.

 Benji shook his head, he started pulling out a cloth from his mouth. Emily laughed a little at that.

 “I’m sorry,” Benji said when he was done. “I expected that to take a different direction.”

 “Well, I liked it.” Emily joked.

 “Me too.” Benji said.

 “Emily,” Beca called from behind them, “We’re almost ready to go on.” She looked at Benji, “Benji.” She smiled slightly at him.

 “Good luck.” Benji said. “Hey Emily?” Emily stopped.

 “What’s up?” She said.

 “Would you like to go on a date when we get back?” Benji asked.

 “Um, yes!” Emily smiled brightly. “This competition doesn’t matter right now, I’m already a winner tonight!”

 Emily took a deep breath and hurried over to where the other Bellas were waiting. Benji started walking back to the front so he could watch but Beca stopped him. She handed him a bag. He looked in it and saw it was full of flashlights.

 “Can you do me a favour?” Beca asked. Benji nodded. “You know, Emily’s song Flashlight? Well, we’re using it in our performance and I don’t have time to do this but could you pass these out to people in the audience?”

 Benji nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, definitely. I’d be glad to.”

 Beca sighed in relief. “Good, it was Chloe’s idea. I was against it but it is pretty cool, um you’ll know when to like take one out right? Like I can’t tell you but you’re not going to do something stupid like just take it out unnecessarily right?”

 “Yeah, don’t worry.” Benji said.

 “Good,” Beca said, “Okay, I gotta go.”

 “Good luck.”

 Beca walked over to the other Bellas. Benji walked to the front of the stage. He looked around for Jesse but couldn’t see him. Jesse said he would be wearing an American flag so Benji knew what to look for. Benji started handing out flashlights to people he passed. He didn’t know if any of them were keeping them but he promised Beca he would hand them out. He found Jesse just before the Bellas performed. He handed out the last of the flashlights and waited for the performance to start.

 The Bellas walked onto the stage. Jesse was yelling “Becaw” at Beca and Benji was cheering with him. The flashlight idea worked. Almost everyone in the crowd had one and it made the performance better. Benji cheered as loud as he could when they finished. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to talk tomorrow but he didn’t care. The Bellas won, all their hard work had paid off and Benji couldn’t be prouder.

 They spent the rest of the trip traveling around Denmark and hanging out with the other teams. Benji spent most of it with Emily. When they traveled with the group they walked behind the rest talking and holding hands, or leaving the hotel parties early to sit on the roof.

  The flight back to Barden was early and Emily slept the whole time. Amy was almost kicked off the plane twice and Lily went to the bathroom and never came back but they made it back in one piece. The Bellas went back to their house to bring their trophy home and to initiate Emily. Benji and Jesse went back to the Treble house to get it ready for the new captains.

 Benji and Emily agreed to go out a few days after they got back. It was a busy few days with everyone packing and preparing to leave Barden and embark on the next chapter of their lives. Benji walked to the Bella house for their date. He was taking Emily to a new restaurant off campus.

 Benji fiddled with his tie as he waited for Emily. He was wearing a white dress shirt, a tie, and dress pants. Beca didn’t hate him anymore but that didn’t mean Chloe strayed too far when Beca was talking to him. Emily came down wearing a knee length blue dress. Benji smiled shyly at her. She kissed his cheek.

 Dinner was good. They ate overpriced food and laughed at the other couples there. They went on a walk after dinner, their hands loosely joined between them. Emily pointed out every constellation Stacie taught her and Benji pulled a quarter from behind Emily’s ear and she kissed him when he gave it to her. They decided to hang out at the Treble house after because no one should be home. They sat on the couch and turned on a random movie. Neither one was paying attention though. They kissed some more before Emily put a hand on Benji’s chest and pushed him back.

 He looked worryingly at her. “Are you okay? Is this… Are you uncomfortable?”

 “No, no, it’s not that,” Emily said, “It’s just… I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I like you Benji, I really do, it’s just that, this isn’t going to go any further than this.”

 Benji sat up anxiously. “What do you mean?”

 Emily put a reassuring hand on Benji’s hand. “I still want to go out with you but I don’t want to… sleep with you. Like ever. It’s just not something I want to do, like ever. I like kissing you but that’s as far as I want to go. I get it if you don’t want to go out with me anymore. I just wanted to tell you before this goes any farther.”

 Benji smiled. “That’s totally okay. That’s great, honestly. I don’t want to do that either. I would be perfectly happy if we didn’t go any farther. I feel the same way. I was nervous that you wouldn’t feel the same but I guess I had nothing to worry about.”

 “Really?” Emily asked.

 “Yes, really.” Benji said, “I’ve been doing some research, and I found the word asexual. I never really thought that it would be something like that, I thought I was the only one but… I talked to Beca about it and I got to thinking that maybe it wasn’t something wrong with me, you know?”

 Emily nodded enthusiastically. “It seemed like some weird thing with me and like no one would ever get it or feel the same so I tried to find a way to fix it but instead I found a community online telling me I wasn’t broken or alone.” Emily paused, “Wait, did you say you talked to Beca about it?”

 Benji blushed. “She came to see me a while ago. She was telling me that you were too young for sex and if that’s what we were doing then she was going to hurt me if I hurt you. I got a little upset because she didn’t believe me that we weren’t doing that and I told her that I never wanted to have sex ever and she told me she understood because she… well, I shouldn’t tell you what she said, you’ll have to ask her. But you can talk to her about this stuff, she’s pretty understanding.”

 Emily laughed. “She came by to give you the ‘you hurt her I hurt you speech’ and you end up closer to her and finding out something she hasn’t told anyone, good for you Benji.”

 Benji laughed. They laughed about it for a minute before cuddling and trying to catch up on the movie. They never did catch up on the movie. Benji was too focused on Emily’s hand drawing patterns on his and Emily was focusing on staying awake. She was still a little jetlagged. Benji noticed her yawning and offered to walk her home. She was too tired to argue and let him. They kissed goodbye at the door and Emily watched Benji walked down the path until he was out of sight.

 The Bellas were waiting up with questions and Emily waved them off. She told them that they had fun and that was all they needed to know. Emily did make a note to herself to talk to Beca later about what Benji told her.

 Emily woke up late the next day. She didn’t realize how tired she was until then. She went down to the kitchen. Stacie, Chloe, and Beca were in the kitchen already. Emily waved at them and made herself a peanut butter sandwich. When she looked at the other girls Stacie was looking at her expectantly.

 “What?” She asked.

 “You went on a date last night Em, and,” Stacie smirked, “New things happened and it’s okay to have questions, and who better to ask then me or Chloe? The resident house sex experts.”

 Emily choked on her sandwich. “What? That’s… we didn’t… it’s none of your business Stacie!” Emily sputtered.

 Stacie chuckled. “Emily, sweet, sweet Emily, you know you can talk to us about things. New feelings, new experiences, we’re more than happy to guide you through this confusing period in your life.”

 Emily shook her head. “That’s unnecessary Stace, but thanks, I think? Um, but actually I was wondering if I could talk to Beca actually.”

 The three girls looked at Emily, shocked. Chloe glanced between Beca and Emily trying to figure out what was going on. Stacie stood slack jawed at Emily’s request and Beca froze, her spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth.

 “You want to talk to Beca? About… Benji?” Chloe asked.

 “Yeah, if that’s okay with Beca, obviously. ’Cause I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Beca, I just have some questions and Benji told me that you’re good at… this stuff.” Emily rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably. Emily saw the look of realization in Beca’s eyes.

 “Oh.” Beca said. “I see. Um, let me finish my cereal first and then we can talk?”

 Emily nodded. “Yeah, definitely, of course. Thank you so much Beca, you’re like the best captain ever. Although Chloe’s good too, like I’m not saying she isn’t, just you’re both good, obviously.”

 Stacie felt Emily’s forehead. “Nope.” She said. “No fever. The only other possibility is Benji brainwashed her into thinking that Beca can talk about stuff.”

 “Shut up Stacie.” Beca said. “Leave her alone, Jesus dude.”

 Stacie raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry Cap.”

 “Meet me in the loft Emily. Amy’s with Bumper right now so it’s empty.” Beca said.

 “Okay dokay.” Emily said. She walked to the loft and sat on Beca’s bed. Beca came up a few minutes later and sat with Emily. She didn’t say anything at first. Finally Beca cleared her throat.

 “So, uh, I’m assuming Benji told you?” Beca said.

 “Oh, no he didn’t tell me what you told him, just that he talked you about like… the sex thing and that you understood and were… good at understanding.” Emily said.

 Beca nodded. “Do you, ah, do you feel the same way as Benji?”

 “Yeah, pretty much.”

 “Good. He’s a nice kid, I’m sorry I acted weird around him before. I was just… trying to protect you.” Beca blushed.

 “Do you… mind telling me what you told Benji?” Emily asked hesitantly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I won’t pry.”

 Beca paused. “I guess.” She took a deep breath, “When I was in high school, everyone was talking about what boy or girl they liked or what celebrities were hot and I never felt that, like I never had crushes on people and in health class the teacher said we’d feel… urges and I never did. I thought there was something wrong with me, so I had sex with people anyway just to try and fix it and feel normal. It didn’t work. It made me feel worse, like I was more broken.” Beca began tearing up, “I told myself that I didn’t need a relationship if I didn’t feel anything physical toward anybody. And then I met Jesse, and everything clicked. I wanted to be with him. Not at first, but after a while I started to feel like I wanted to do that with him. But, only with him. And I did and it was great. I finally felt normal. I didn’t want to break up with him because I didn’t think I could feel like that with anyone else.” Beca wiped her eyes. “I had to realize I wasn’t weird or broken just because of how I felt. Things with Jesse were good because they were safe, and I realized that I loved him but we weren’t going to last. I need to find someone else who I can feel like that with and I want to be with them because I want to, not because I feel like I don’t have another choice.”

 Emily put her hand on Beca’s shoulder. “I felt like that too,” Emily said, “I mean, I never had sex with anybody but I felt like I was supposed to. And my parents kept telling me about boys and girls and how it was okay to… experiment in college and I never wanted to do that but they never understood when I told them. No one’s ever understood until Benji. And now you.”

 Beca nodded. “I’m like, here for you dude, if you wanna like, talk about stuff. I know you have Benji but I wanna give you the option.”

 “Thanks Beca, that means a lot.” Emily said.

 “Right,” Beca coughed, “Now get your cute butt outta here and go do something. Stacie is dying to hear about your date, like literally dying.”

 Emily giggled. “I’ll go talk to her. But I don’t think she’s literally dying.”

 Beca rolled her eyes. “Whatever dude, just leave.”

  The summer was hard. Benji went home to California and Emily stayed in Atlanta. They called and skyped as often as they could but it wasn’t enough. Benji hated not being there with Emily. He wished he could hold her and kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. He wished he could see her all the time. He knew he couldn’t do that when he was away. He knew what he needed to do.

 After buying a used car and saying a tearful goodbye to his parents he was off. It took him a week of driving, a few days to find an apartment, and a few days to move in. He looked at his new home and smiled. It was small but it was his, and it was closer to Emily. He skyped her as soon as he was settled.

 “Hey Benji!” Emily smiled at him through the screen.

 “Hey Em. What are you doing right now?” He asked.

 “Right now?” Emily asked. Benji nodded. “Not much, my parents are at work so I’m just hanging out until they get back.”

 Benji grinned, “Well, how about you come over?”

 Emily laughed. She shook her head. “Benji, you do realize that I’m in Atlanta and you’re in California right?”

 “Well,” Benji smirked, “What if I wasn’t in California and I’m actually in Atlanta in my brand new apartment?”

 “What?” Emily squealed. “You’re here?”

 Benji laughed. “I’m here. I hated being away from you so I decided to fix that.”

 “Oh my stars! I can’t believe this!” Emily covered her face. “I’m coming over right now!”

 “That’s what I was hoping.” Benji said. “I’ll text you the address.”

 Benji waited anxiously while Emily headed over. He knew the move was a spontaneous decision and he wasn’t sure how Emily would react. He knew he should have talked to Emily about it but it was too late now. He didn’t know if Emily would want to move in with him. He knew she had the Bella house but she would be the only one living there this year. Freshmen lived in the dorms and everyone else had already made living arrangements by the time auditions were over.

 Benji jumped when there was a knock on the door. He quickly opened the door and Emily flung her arms around him. He hugged her back and squeezed her tight.

 “Hey baby,” Benji said, “I missed you.”

 “I missed you too!” Emily pulled back. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

 Benji leaned in and kissed her. “I’m really here. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

 Emily liked the apartment. She agreed with Benji that it was small but she could see them living there. She told Benji that she wanted to live with him but needed to be at the Bella house with the new Bellas. Benji told her it was fine, he understood. He just wanted to be closer to her. They ordered a pizza for dinner and ate it on the couch while watching stuff on Netflix. Emily yawned and leaned her head on Benji’s shoulder.

 “I love you.” Emily mumbled. Benji kissed her head.

 “I love you too.” Benji whispered.

 Benji knew a lot of things. He knew he made the right choice moving to Atlanta. He knew the Bellas would be great this year. He knew he wasn’t weird or broken and that he was the happiest he had ever been. But most importantly, he knew Emily Junk was the most important person in his life.

[thelastofthecrazypeople]

After having jumped directly from ME1 into ME2 I had some feels about my Shepard and Kaidan and I needed to put them somewhere, so here we are.

I’m gonna tag @pineapplemountain because they said they might want to read it. Everyone else is also invited to read it of course.

The truth is I'm too tired to play pretend

I never thought coming back to life would be like this. Then again, I never really thought about what being reborn might be like before now, you know.

On the other hand, I also didn’t picture dying like this. Floating out in space, the wreck of my ship – my home – in front of me, terrified and alone.

And then nothing for a long while.

Until I woke up – I woke up from death – terrified and disoriented, with strangers looming over me, just to be put back to sleep and woken up again with sirens blaring in my ears.

This part though, was the easiest of them all. Snapping back into action, arming myself and moving through a foreign base while taking out things out to harm me, was more a reflex than a conscious action, something I’d done so many times before that I clicked into it seamlessly.

It didn’t leave me time to think about, well anything, either. That would come later, after fighting through the shooting mechs and meeting Jacob and Miranda. After my first meeting with the Illusive Man.

The foolish thing was that for a moment - a brief second - when I stepped foot into the new Normandy and greeted Joker and hadn’t really had time to process anything; a small part of me thought, hoped that it could be like before.

I could gather my old crew together, as much of it as was still alive.

I could finally see Kaidan again. That thought - finding Kaidan, making sure he was alright with my own eyes - stole my breath for a tic and almost blinded me with want, before I could remind myself that more important things were at stake.

Duty comes first - the golden rule of any good soldier. The word of the Illusive Man that Kaidan - any of my crew really - was alive and well would have to be enough until I had taken care of some of the more imminently pressing matters.

Of course, hoping things would return to the way they were was a foolish thought to have. As much as I declined working for Cerberus, I was still to some extent a part of them. I still used their resources and their money and their people to further the mission. I still owed them my life.

And a big part of me knew that that was something Kaidan could never forgive. Not after what we’d seen them do. Not after what we’d fought against.

Settling into the Normandy was strange and uncomfortable.

I can’t count how many times I walked into Miranda’s office deep in thought and ready to sit down at my desk, before seeing her face and remembering that this wasn’t my office anymore. She took it gracefully, let me fumble through an excuse or a hastily thought of question before allowing me to excuse myself.

How often I almost reflexively walked to the space where Kaidan’s workstation used to be just to find myself faced with the kitchen and a puzzled cook.

It was disorienting in a way how the ship was familiar and just different enough to make me feel vertigo whenever I searched for the stairs up to the CIC, just to find myself facing the observation deck and remembering that the stairs are no longer part of this ship – were never part of this ship.

It’s the same with the crew in a way, people manning stations I expect somebody else to stand behind leaving me distracted and disoriented.

Of course I put effort into getting to know my new crew, I’m still the CO of this ship.

Their lives are still mine to protect.

It is still my duty to support them in any way I can.

And me knowing my team, knowing what makes them tick and where their strengths and weaknesses lie, what their hopes and dreams are is still the most integral part of securing the success of our mission.

Yet it still feels lonely sometimes - with things so achingly familiar and yet so foreign.

Then there’s Garrus. Where I spent two years healing, my body knitting itself back together, he had time to grieve and to try to cut out a new living for himself. He - like this ship - is the same and yet changed.

Of course he is; I wouldn’t blame him if I could and I hardly can. But his presence is a strange reminder of everything we were and everything we could have been. It feels like we are both walking wounded and neither really knows how to help the other but damn are we trying.

Things look up for a bit, we recruit talented new people and I can feel the crew - myself included - growing closer. I feel like I’m making progress.

I don’t stumble into Miranda’s office quite as often or startle the cook by searching for a workstation that has never been there. I use my cabin more, even if I still don’t like how it isolates me from the crew just by being too far out of the way of everyone else.

I can feel myself getting back into the rhythm of an active ship.

I can feel myself adjust to new routines.

And then Horizon happens.

The whole mission is a clusterfuck of immeasurable dimension and yet at the end of it, after living through it all, the biggest hit lands.

After every way I tried and failed to find him, Kaidan Alenko walks right up to me.

That hug was the best thing in a while, even sweaty and bloodstained and exhausted as I was after that battle.

Maybe especially after that battle.

But I let my guard down too soon. I should have known Kaidan wouldn’t take my alliance - however tentative - with Cerberus lightly. And I did know. The logical part of me knew all along that he wouldn’t be okay with it. Even if we saved him and as many colonists as we could - not enough by any margin.

Even if he still loved me.

But my heart - foolish as it was - yearned for him with a wordless hunger and it hoped without hope.

I wasn’t prepared for his words. I’m ashamed to admit that I took them badly, replied angrier than I wanted to instead of explaining calmly, trying to make him understand why I did what I did. Why I had to do what I had done. Why he could still trust me and believe that I was the same Shepard he knew before, not some cruel copy.

In the shuttle back to the Normandy, his words still reverberated through my brain. I was sure it would be the last thing I ever heard from Kaidan.

I spent hours that night tossing and turning, mourning something that had barely begun to be; a promise given before a suicidal mission, a light to cling to in dark times.

Our time together haunted me worse than before I’d seen him. Not just that night before Ilos; we had been friends long before starting to become something else. The silent conversations, knowing looks and easy silences left just as big a hole as the physicality of our night together. Maybe even a bigger hole.

Morning arrives too soon and not soon enough and I revel the fact that I have to get up and face the day as much as I curse it.

I’m well into my daily routine when Kelly Chambers notifies me of a received message. I get until the word “sorry” before I have to log out of the message and excuse myself from the CIC. I practically flee into the elevator and for once I’m actually grateful for the fact that my quarters are well away from everyone else.

The message is like a punch in the gut - even just those first few words: “Shepard, I’m sorry”

The fact that my crew doesn’t see me like this - ragged and barely keeping it together, blinking away tears - is a godsend right now.

They don’t deserve a commanding officer like that. They deserve a CO that is level-headed and calm not crumbling at the edges.

I make sure to seal my quarters after entering them – I don’t want any of them accidentally walking in on me like this.

I hesitate before walking to my desk and the private terminal set up on it, try to take steadying breaths, to steel myself for whatever else the message might entail.

Part of me wants to delete it unread and unseen, run from everything it could mean for me and him.

Part of me wants to desperately cling to every single thing still connecting me to the man I love.

In the end, I can’t quite bring myself to stay away, so I sit down and open the message to read what else Kaidan has to say:

“Shepard, I’m sorry for what I said back on Horizon. I spent two years pulling myself back together after you went down with the Normandy. It took me a long time to get over my guilt for surviving and move on. I’d finally let my friends talk me into going out for drinks with a doctor on the Citadel. Nothing serious, but trying to let myself have a life again, you know? Then I saw you, and everything pulled hard to port. You were standing in front of me, but you were with Cerberus. I guess I really don’t know who either of us is anymore. Do you even remember that night before Ilos? That night meant everything to me… maybe it meant as much to you. But a lot has changed in the last two years and I can’t just put that aside. But please be careful. I’ve watched too many people close to me die – on Eden Prime, on Virmire, on Horizon, on the Normandy. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you again. If you’re still the man I remember I know you’ll find a way to stop these Collector attacks. But Cerberus is too dangerous to be trusted. Watch yourself. When things settle down a little… maybe… I don’t know. Just take care. –Kaidan“

All the air in my lungs rushes out of me with that last line. It’s too vague and too full of maybes and just hopeful enough to hurt like a dagger buried between my ribs. My next inhale shudders through my lips and I can feel the tears I’ve been holding back dislodging without my permission.

For a while I stare at the screen blindly, still trying to comprehend what this means for me. What it means for us.

But answers aren’t forthcoming – the screen gives me nothing more than what I already know and so I turn away from it – my gaze gliding half-heartedly over the model ships over my desk, the armour locker next to my bed, before coming to a halt on the fish tank.

The deep blue of the water and the movements of the fish inside have always calmed me down, helped me ground myself and I hope they will do the same for me this time around as well.

I don’t know how long it has been since I fled the CIC, how long I’ve been staring at the fish – just that I’m not crying anymore and the dutiful part of my mind has been screaming at me to get up and go back to work for a while.

Usually I’m unable to turn that part of, ticking away inside of me, aware of every minute, every second and how I could make more of it.

Usually it’s one of my favourite parts of myself, constantly driving me to be better, to do more.

Usually I’m not drowning in my own feelings with a suicidal mission looming ahead.

Usually I’m not playing with the idea that dying for real might not be such a bad thing this time.

Now it’s just an empty howl in the back of my mind – overshadowed with by a lethargic detachment in the rest of my body.

It’s not until EDI chirps in her corner and informs me – with more tact and professionalism I’d expect from an AI – that my presence is required in the CIC, that I finally gather myself enough to get up.

“I’ll be down shortly” I reassure her, before turning to my bathroom to splash some water in my face. It’s bad enough that I just abandoned them in the middle of the day – my crew doesn’t have to know how emotional this whole thing has made me.

I take care to rinse my face thoroughly, hiding any evidence of ever having cried – carefully putting myself back together as I work with methodical, precise movements. Once the person staring back at me from the mirror looks suitably presentable - looks mostly like myself – I straighten out my uniform one last time before heading back to the bridge.

I still feel like there’s a hole in my stomach, threatening to swallow me whole – but right now is not the time to indulge in it.

My crew needs me.

And I will be there for them.

[gwynne-fics]

Becoming Royals

separation p3

Rachel wasn’t expecting Hyo-Shin. Lee Chan-Hyuk was coming personally to congratulate her on her pending move to the palace but Hyo-shin was not supposed to be part of the delegation. Mother said this was a test. Queen Kyung-Ran made her dislike of the man very clear. 

“His son and mine are very close. I worry about the day that Young-Do might have to exile the entire family. I worry he might hesitate because of his love for Lee Hyo-Shin. Lee Chan-Hyuk wants to be prime minister since he cannot be king. He tried to engage Lee Hyo-Shin to Lee Bo-Na but our king refused the match.”

“Lee Bo-Na? The king’s first choice?”

Queen Kyung-Ran laughed softly and patted her hand. “She can best my son in half of their matches. That is not the stuff love is made of. Her father is General Lee and he taught her along with the boys. She a very sweet girl, a kind boy, and just recently discovered dressing up like a lady. You will like her, I think, and she will be a good friend inside the palace. The other ladies don’t like her because she’s so familiar with the princes.”

Rachel heard the lesson poignantly. She reminded herself not to make the mistake she did with Jeon Hyun-Joo. Learning about this entire other life that Young-Do had was difficult. Mother tried to prepare her for leaving everything she’d ever known. She promised to send Eun-Sang with her after Rachel begged on her knees for it. But Young-Do wasn’t giving up his entire world. His friends would still be there for him.

So the sight of Hyo-Shin racing through the city surprised her. Normally, a courier was simply sent ahead, not the first son. Rachel came out into the courtyard as hostlers took his horse and tried not to be jealous she didn’t have one anymore.

He was pale and disheveled and her stomach sank. She rarely ever saw Hyo-Shin scared and panicked. He met her eyes and she just...knew. “Is he hurt?”

“The bridge collapsed and his shoulder had to be put back in. He held it up for almost an hour so the trapped workers got out. No one died and there are very few broken bones.” Hyo-Shin swallowed and she tried not to cry. He ignored all decorum and hugged her tightly. “His letter is on its way. Rachel, my father sabotaged the bridge with rotten wood. He paid the inspectors to ignore it. I’m trying to find proof past what he’s said to me but it is not easy. Whatever he is trying to get you to do, you cannot do it.”

Rachel buried her face in his shoulder. “He held a bridge up on his own back?”

“They are calling it proof he has the heavens on his side. Rachel, it is too soon for him to be this popular and it makes the king...anxious. Once he heals, once you are pregnant, the king will send him to war. My father cannot become the king’s prime minister. Young-Do...” He choked on his name and Rachel pulled back to look up at him. His face was stained with tears and he looked so broken.

“Oh,” she whispered and her heart ached for them both. “Why didn’t you tell me that the crown prince was your first love? I already knew it was a man. Did you think I would be distraught and jealous?”

“You were distraught and jealous,” he tried to make it a joke and she pulled out her handkerchief to wipe his face. “I was not going to make it worse.” He pulled her hand away from his face and tried to regain his composure. “I know how smart you are. You cannot avoid my father. I just...you need all the information you can get. Our prince misses you. Prince Myung-Soo keeps trying to get him out of the palace and into the pavilion but it isn’t working very well.”

Rachel looked away. “He promised himself to me. Prince Myung-Soo should respect it.”

“I cannot wait for him to meet you. The palace is unprepared for you and it will be fantastic to watch them scramble to keep up. I need to speak with the queen. You have about an hour before my father arrives. I outpaced the courier. He doesn’t know I came.”

“Eun-Sang is preparing your room. She’ll help you clean up and sneak back to the palace after you speak with the Queen. Thank you.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek before she gathered her skirts up into her hands and ran back into the house and started giving orders to prepare the house. Then she went to her mother to ask her advice. Rachel spilled everything Hyo-Shin told her out in a rush and could not sit still. “Tell me what to do, Omma. I’m not ready for this.”

“You are,” Mother said firmly. “Sit down and I will give you the questions you need to ask him to remind him that convincing you is the most important thing. Do not be intimidated simply because his the minister of justice. It is no different than talking to any of the guild leaders into donating for your school.”

Rachel closed her eyes and sunk to her knees. “He hurt Young-Do. I cannot forgive that.”

“No one is asking you to.” Mother took her hand and cupped her cheek. “But you must wait until you have the power to punish him. You are good at choosing your words. You can do it now.”

“I still don’t know why the king chose me. I am from the outskirts of the country. I know nothing about what is going on in the palace. Abeoji is dead and not a political player. I’ve spent the last few years working on community projects. I looked at our star maps, Omma. There is nothing special about our stars.”

Mother sighed when she stood and started pacing. “Why would you look at such useless things? And why would you discount your community efforts? Queen Kyung-Ran has mentioned them several times. I’ve allowed you to run our household for the last year with minimal supervision. You’ve handled all our guests and they know it. Word gets around Rachel. I’ve made sure of it. My family is still very influential. Your grandfather still sits on Dong-Wook’s council.”

That shocked her. She didn’t know Mother thought she should be queen. There was a quiet knock and one of the servants announced the courier. Rachel stopped pacing and Mother stood. “I should get Min-Ki up from his nap. Attend her majesty.”

“Yes, Omeoni.” Rachel found Queen Kyung-Ran sitting in the garden, one of her ladies fanning her while they fixed her makeup. Rachel bowed and waited for her to acknowledge her.

“This man is trying to kill my son because he knows he will be a better king than his father,” she whispered dully. Queen Kyung-Ran closed her eyes and Rachel knelt down beside her and took her hand. “He believes Myung-Soo is weak and easy to influence. Now my king will be paranoid and take it out on my Young-Do. He has come to gloat.”

“I will not let him. Young-Do is strong, my queen. I watched him dispatch the Kim’s men. Holding a bridge on his shoulders is the least he could do as the crown prince to show he can carry his people.”

Queen Kyung-Ran slowly smiled and then kissed her hand. “I doubted my king’s choice before I came here. I am glad to be wrong. Stand up. I am sorry but I will have to cut your lessons short. I think you will do well in the palace but if Young-Do is hurt, I cannot remain.”

“I understand, my queen.” She wished with all her heart she could go with her. Rachel bowed and waited for the table to be set and drinks set out. She was not good at serving men drinks. Mother called it her one flaw. This afternoon, it would have to be a strength. Lee Chan-Hyuk arrived and even though they had met several times over the years, she disliked him even more now that she knew he was trying to take a position that did not belong to him.

Hyo-Shin looked nothing like him, yet people constantly praised him for being the spitting image of his father when he was young. Rachel thought someone was lying. Pleasantries and formalities were exchanged before they sat down to eat. Rachel poured his tea and ignored the way he looked at her.

“It is a pity my son never saw you as more than a friend. I encouraged him but he insisted it wasn’t possible. Is that true on your end, Lady Rachel? A fine woman is capable of changing a man’s mind and you are quite the woman.”

She sipped her tea and tried to find a truthful yet diplomatic answer. Her feelings for Hyo-Shin disappeared the moment she caught Eun-Sang blushing over him the day they’d gone to the lake and he’d stripped down to go swimming. She’d been fourteen at the time. It was easy to let go of that crush for Eun-Sang. Once she understood their obligations better, she decided she didn’t want to be in a situation where she had to compete with her Eun-Sang over a man’s heart.

And once they were seventeen, Hyo-Shin looked at Eun-Sang with such an intense longing to match. It had been much too fun to play the game of whispered secrets, knowing each was in love with the other but not in a position to make any sort of love confession.

“Yes. We met as children and saw each other grow up. It is awkward to think of him in any other context. I am glad that he is friends with my prince. I don’t think any other man would be as understanding.” Rachel felt a tiny thrill at the smug smirk he tried to keep to himself. He thought he was winning. Mother said that was important to let men believe they were winning all the way until the moment they weren’t.

“To your continued friendship with Lee Hyo-Shin.” Rachel inclined her head gracefully and caught Mother’s faint approval. “I have heard rumors that our prince is in love with you and looking to fund one of your community projects in the capitol. I am eager to support our new crown princess. I hope to work well with you in the future, Lady Rachel.”

She had to tread softly here. “And what is it you are looking for in return? I must be careful, Minister Lee. My relationship to our prince is new. I wish it to continue to be good. I want him to trust me when I speak. I know he has reservations about the position ever since the rebellion with Kim Nam-Yoon. And when I ask him for favors, I want him to grant them.”

“It is no secret I want the king to name me as prime minister.” Rachel tried not to be shocked that he just came out and said it until she realized he thought that because she was a woman, she wouldn’t understand his point subtly. He looked down on her and it burned warmly under her skin. She’d just hinted that Young-Do confided his thoughts to her! He should’ve taken the hint.

“Alright. Convince me of your qualifications, Minister Lee. If you can convince me, my honesty to my prince will come through.”

[traviswsoul]

Day 27 Portland to Brooks Memorial State Park 0 miles

July 31 3:49 time, 2.004 calories, 13.2 avg mph 1,014' climbed Portland, as it does, sucked me in, I stayed for almost a week between my Uncle's and my friend Terron's. I was only going to stay at Terron's for two night but doubled that to stay and watch the UFC 214 on paper view which he and his brothers were getting.  I'm glad I did, I have always enjoyed UFC, obviously for same bazaar, primal, man reason that had tens of thousands of Romans watching hundreds of gladiators and beasts tear each other apart regularly, I don't claim to understand it but I am glad that it is now a much more tame and civil servicing of our brutal desires.  I also really appreciate watching people do things they are very good at and train hard for, my guilty pleasure is the TV talent show extravaganzas that dominate pop culture like the Voice and America's Got Talent.  Of all the crap on TV I have nothing to say bad about these types of shows, celebrating talent will always be better than another mindless reality show glamorizing drama and dysfunction.  However, cutting to commercial break right before the big moment almost ruins it for me every time knowing how it really is only about money and manipulating us but Grace Vanderveer's performances or seeing anyone be validated with admiration when they are terrified and self doubting is always worth the wait.  I love them because they remind us that people are awesome and despite the highly competitive nature of this dog eat dog world we get to see people rooting for people and being excited about positive things,  we could us more of that, and I'll sit through the commercials for it.  I'll probably complain about capital and consumerism as I do but I'll wait.  The UFC is an exhibition of the top tear of overall human athleticism and even if there wasn't something in my wiring that was pleased by watching men hurt each other (a primal things that baffles me and I'm not proud to admit) I would still be intrigued by these specimens of commitment, determination, nutrition, breadth of study, strength, endurance and will.  It was different this time because I was right in the middle of personally treating  my fitness with more awareness and respect than I ever have. I'm working harder than ever on this trip, observing my bodies adaptations is intriguing, seeing the results is awesome, yet I am no where near the physical capacity or knowledge that a champion fighter has.  This heightened my interest when the opportunity arose to watch what was being hailed as the UFC's most exciting ticket ever, so I stayed and me and Terron got to catch up, talk about life, our struggles, our dreams, women, work and we did some really fun stuff along the way. The first  night at his crib was low key, I arrived before he was done working and luckily there was a key under the mat (don't tell anyone).  I introduced myself to Salmon, his soft, sweet, fat cat and we were soon napping together on the couch.  I fully embraced the nap this Portland vacation knowing well enough how much rest my body was asking for.  I woke up starving as usual and the house he was painting took longer than usual so I went out to find the German spot I knew he was wanting to take me to.  I found Steigelhaus down the street and ordered the pickled vegetable plate, a pretzel of course, and a beer, it was all delicious and soon enough my old buddy showed up and we were thrilled to see each other, a big hug later and we were reunited, it had been years,  he and I met when we starting modeling about the same time in Milan, Italy. We've since been all over the place together as we were the faces of Polo for several years and ended up living near each other in Brooklyn. Oh the memories!  There are several things in my life that I have to give credit to Terron for, none less than Yoga! Terron is the one that took me to my first Yoga class at the Bikram Studio in Union Square in NYC.  That changed my life.  I absolutely would not be who I am or on the path I am had it not been for that. I will forever be grateful to my friend Terron for that blessed gift.  We have had a few ups and downs over the years but when I knew I'd be in Portland he jumped to the top of the list of who I had to call, he's one of those guys you know you could call for anything and he'd do all he could to help you.  A big part of our relationship is how much each of us discovered our selves and grew up along the way parallel to each other.  We were both having exceptional careers in our generation of models and were the stars of our agency for that time.  We both owe a lot to our agent (and my dear friend) Jason Kanner, the man who shaped my 20's more than any other and to whom I'm the most grateful! We made a lot of money, we spent a lot of money, we traveled the world, we became NYC locals and unbeknownst to us great friends along the way.  The second night I was there Brendon, Terron's older brother, drove us to Salem for Karaoke.  The Woods brothers are great singers and karaoke naturals, I wish I could sing like that! They sang the Killers, King's of Leon, Matisyahu, and several other challenging vocalist's hits.  I enjoyed the music and, again, seeing people who are good at something they love and going out and doing it as this was not an amateur karaoke night.  The next day, after a nap of course, we went to the old swimmin hole Terron grew up in and floated the river for an hour.  There was a house there that had a huge telephone pole stuck in the ground,  I assume it was there for exactly the  reason I observed because it had a small platform mounted on top that a hawk had made a nest on.  It was really beautiful, I watched it as long as could,  there were two hawks with white heads and black and gray bodies, absolutely regal and majestic.  I didn't get to see them fly off or see any others arrive although I kept hoping to.  After we got out we recovered the longboards we had stashed in the blackberry bushes at our exit point before we drove down and jumped in so we skated back through a neighborhood, found the truck, and went for prime rib and mashed potatoes, with plenty of Horseradish Cream sauce, just like my brother has always had it and now I guess I'm the same because I ordered a second serving of it!  We were sufficiently sun beat and digesting meat, we called it a day.  The next day the great idea was to drive half an hour to play disc golf. This is something I have been wanting to do for my entire adult life and never had the chance.  Terron is pretty good at it and has a full collection of discs.  That is an activity I could, and plan on, really getting used to!  It's super chill, it's outside, requires very honed skill, there are endless way to improve, it's basically free and required minimal exertion.  Most of my activities require high levels of exertion so I really appreciated the laid back nature of this sport, it's like golf, minus all the country club-ness.  After that we made our way to his parents place for the fight, which was everything you want out a fight night you pay fifty bucks to watch.  Terron and Brenden are certainly UFC super fans and were great to watch it with.  The next day it was back to the real world, err, my real world for the time being. Because I had stayed two extra days Terron drove me 100 miles down the road and up the hill.  It was a 3,000 foot climb and I don't have any part of me that tells me I don't succeed if I don't ride every single mile so we road tripped down along the Columbia river on highway 84 then turned north on 97, crossed the river which is the border and found ourselves in Washington state.  This was the only part of eastern Washington I have ever seen, Maryhill, an uber famous  downhill run that we have had world cup races at every year that was traveling and racing downhill skateboards.  We pulled off at the overlook where you can see most of the hill and I had a mini sentimental moment there with all the memories from a very different part of my life.  It was weird being there and not having a skateboard or a hundred of my friends,  I miss those days, there not over!  The nearest town is Goldendale, another easily missed little town if not for that hill.  We used to stay in the hotels or campsites there and I know it well.  Fifteen miles past that we found the Brooks Memorial state park on the west side of the street and I was "home."  I set up camp while Terron napped on the picnic table and eventually we said our goodbyes, I hope it's not so long again until we reunite.  I climbed into my tent and read more of Thomas Paine's classic The Age Of Reason, I suggest this for everyone.  It's brilliant, it's so many things I have spent the last decade of my life coming to understand all distilled into easily consumed pages and I have been pouring over it, I can't believe this book didn't some to me sooner except for the fact that I know everything that teaches me comes to me at exactly the right time.  The title "The Age of Reason" caught my eye at the Nakima RV Resort on a "give one take one"'  bookshelf in the laundry room.  It sat there amongst fiction and self help books and called to me, I took it, I didn't have one to leave but I was grateful and I don't think my karma will suffer.  It took a few days to make time read among all the demanding writing schedule I have made for myself but now that I did I'm hooked! If you have ever struggled with why religion seems to be such a big shitty man made monster now but can't jump straight to nihilism/ atheism then this books for you.  Paine essentially shits all over religion while maintaining and true scholar's approach to scientific and rational deduction of knowledge.  His point so far is not just that religion is wrong and stupid but that it was flawed from the get go because it was crafted by men in order to make populations more moldable and profitable. We don't need any structure to teach us about God! Creation is the only case that needs to be made or observed in order to understand divinity and our place in it.  I'm only in  the first half but he's already gotten into the triangle being the foundation for math and then science and understanding the rules of the universe. Namely, the movements of the heavens which parallel the law  of physics on earth from which we can understand the magnitude and omniscience of our God, creation, our place, our divinity and reason all without needing any hint of dogma, fundamentalism, sin, shame

[lazybarbarians]

Moving Target by Cecil Castellucci and Jason Fry

Ragnell: This week we read Moving Target: A Princess Leia Adventure. It’s the YA novel for the new Star Wars canon set between Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, a companion to last week’s selection actually, and actually has ½ the same authors.

The story takes place a few months after ESB, when the ship Leia’s riding on gets attacked. This sets up the background, which is that she and luke have been identified as symbols for the Alliance and are being moved around secretly and separately because they are massive targets. The entire Alliance has split into small cells that never stay in one place very long since the Hoth attack.

Leia’s being doing recruitment and diplomatic visits. She gets called to see the rest of Alliance High Command and finds out there’s a new Death Star being built, and the Alliance needs to gather the fleet and plan an attack before construction is complete, but they need to avoid Imperial attention. To that end, Leia volunteers to act as a decoy and draw Imperial attention away from the gathering by posting a fake recruitment mission and just basically being a moving target.

During this she speaks to Luke and Mon Mothma, which are very sweet scenes in which both characters try to convince her that it's perfectly acceptable to put aside her sense of duty to rescue Han. (Han’s rescue is not something the Alliance can afford to do, but no one’s objecting to a small volunteer force.)

After that she collects her team of dupes, a naive idealistic comm specialist named Kidi, a literal-minded mechanic named Antrot, the pilot Nien Nunb (Lando’s co-pilot during the RotJ Death Star run), and a commando named Lokmarcha, Lok for short. Lok is assigned by one of the Interchangeable Disposable Alliance Generals You Will Never See Outside This Story as a bodyguard for Leia, which she understands but is annoyed at. Only Leia and Lok know the mission is a decoy, the others are fairly earnest and a source of guilt for Leia.

They set up beacons using old encryption codes Leia knows the empire cracked at 3 different locations. The first one involves climbing up a chimney, the second meeting cool pirates, and the third a farmer matriarch who says she’s just gonna tell the Empire to go fly a kite as soon as they’re done setting this stuff up. Both the first and second meeting points get a very fast visit from a very bland villainess who has a Star Destroyer. Why she gets a Star Destroyer I don’t know. The third involves Leia breaking the truth to her whole team and helping the matriarch defend against the Imperials. Then she goes to the fake meeting point to warn away the recruits, and gets captured.

They come up with some plan to blow up the ship, but instead Lok dies in a grisly manner because he has a suicide EMP device in his chest, Leia stealing the bland villainess’s clothes and Antrot dies blowing up the ship so they can escape the Star destroyer. The recruits attack the thing to help them, Leia, Kidi and Nien survive and Leia calls Luke who tells her that they’re ready to start the third movie.

Oh, and Kidi and Lok got together so Kidi can be sad about Lok’s death and Leia can connect the whole thing to Han but there’s barely any page time spent on it.

So, this book is annoying to me because it could be a lot better than it is. And it has some good parts, mainly Leia’s characterization, and the scenes with Mon Mothma, Luke, and Nien. A few here and there during the mission too. But it falls short for two reasons for me.

First, it starts off implying that Leia and Luke have been traveling on different ships and not really doing much for the better part of the year while Han is gone. I don’t like that, it seems wasteful. This is prime twin-teamup time, and there should be room left for stories where they do even if this particular one is a Leia solo story. But it seems to position itself to account for most of the year, and while the interaction with Luke is wonderful the wistfulness implies that she just hasn’t been able to see him much since Bespin and I hate that. So right away, the book loses some points for me.

The second problem is that Leia is presented as needing a specific character arc in this. In ESB, we saw her open herself up to romantic love. We didn’t see her learn to put aside her sense of duty, a core concept of the character since her first appearance, to allow herself that time. And the writers have the best idea, they present this perfectly in the early scenes with Luke and Mon Mothma. We see Leia’s pessimism and cynicism contrasted against Luke’s faith. Then we get Mon Mothma pulling Leia aside to tell her it’s OKAY to want a life for herself, it’s okay to pull back from her duties to work to get that. So Leia starts out the book thinking it’s selfish to have romance and she won’t be able to have Han back anyway.

Over the course of the mission, she changes her mind. Which is the problem. There’s really not a lot in the mission driving this lesson home. The four parts of the mission itself never really give Leia reason to reflect on Han. She reflects on her time in the Death Star, and balances whether the ends justify the means but there’s not a lot to remind her what she’s lost. Instead it lets her get her mind completely off of Han while she’s working.

The background romance between Kidi and Lok reminds her of herself and Han when they catch them kissing, but there’s not a lot of groundwork laid during the bickering and honestly not a lot of parallels between either character and Han, or really either character and Leia. Lok’s death should underscore this lesson too, but we never see how Leia connects the dots. Really, the only character on the entire crew who reminds us of Han is Nien Nunb, who’s a little roguish and a source of humor, while the others are all aspects we see in Luke -- an innocent technician, a young idealist, and a badass commando who’s willing to sacrifice himself to give everyone else a shot.

It would’ve been better to shape the mission around something that drives home Leia’s central character arc, rather than have it be work that takes her mind off her problems with a brief interlude of two people with a situation that vaguely resembles her. Maybe more use of the one character with traits in common with Han, I know they can't kill Nien but they could have made Leia fear for him more. Instead we got a quick death for a character in a romance as a cheat to a lesson, and I know both Castellucci and Fry can write better than this.

Kalinara: I didn’t find the book quite as annoying as you did. But I do agree that there were a lot of missed opportunities.

The best part of the book were the canon characters, honestly. As you mentioned, the dynamic between Luke and Leia was lovely. Their scenes together shined. I also really liked the way Mon Mothma was used. She was a welcome maternal figure, one who wasn’t afraid to talk to Leia about her losses and encourage her to find happiness where she could.

The biggest problem for me was that it feels like this book basically shunts Leia to the side of any meaningful plot during this time period. I mean, Lando and Chewbacca are looking for Han. Luke is doing...Jedi stuff. Leia’s part of a distraction mission to hide the rebels’ true plans regarding the Second Death Star. A mission that we know is pointless, since the Second Death Star was a trap anyway.

Leia has strong, appealing characterization, but the characters that she’s stuck bouncing off of are basically stock placefillers. Kidi is the sweet ultra-liberal, tree-hugging stereotype girl, Lok is the frowning by the book military guy, the third dude, Antrot? Is basically whiny nerd comic relief so forgettable that I’m still not sure I got his name right.

Leia never has an opportunity to really connect to any of these characters, and there’s really no reason given that she should. The only one she has any sort of real connection with is Lok, and she does shine there, as she manages to smoothly assert her authority while still respecting his concerns.

I think it stands out to me because one of the best parts of the first (or maybe second) chapter was Leia musing about how her life in the Rebellion hadn’t given her the opportunity for friendship. Luke, Han, Chewie, the Droids, they were the first time she really was able to connect to people on that level. I expected that to mean something with these new characters. I expected to see Leia make friends. But it never really happened.

It’s not just a matter of these characters being OCs, because authors in both the Expanded Universe and the new canon have managed to introduce OC friends for Leia that worked very well. Winter was a staple in the old canon. And Ransolm Casterfo, for all the complications there, had a very vivid connection to Leia in Bloodlines. So it is absolutely doable. But it didn’t happen here.

Lok came closest, but he was still more archetype than man. Kidi and Antrot were too young and wide-eyed. Which is a bit weird to say, considering how Leia latched onto Luke. But Luke was a kid who rescued her and was never in her direct command, so there’s a subtle difference there. She and Luke and Han were equals in an emotional sense, and these kids are not.

Nien Nunb comes closest. He’s definitely the most vivid of the characters (I admit, I think of him almost as an original character because it took me ages to remember who he was. I fail Star Wars forever). And he and Leia do interact a lot more like friends, but there isn’t much chance to explore that relationship dynamic either. He always seems to miss the fun chimney climbing adventures, only to rejoin them again later.

I think maybe the problem is that the authors were trying too hard for the romantic parallel, which meant we wasted way too much time watching Kidi and Lok play Ollie and Hal on a road trip, rather than seeing Leia’s relationship develop with either character. They should have gone for a friendship parallel instead. Because that’s the thing, Han was Leia’s friend long before he was her love. And Leia isn’t just neglecting her feelings for Han during this time period, she’s also letting duty get in the way of being with Luke. (In that sense, I actually liked that they hadn’t interacted much during this time period. I think it fits with Leia’s theme.) She needs to learn that she can be selfish, so to speak, and value her friends, and be able to find happiness with them. Both the friend she loves romantically, and the friend that she doesn’t.

And honestly, I thought Lok’s death was rather disturbing for a YA novel. Maybe I’m just an old fuddy-duddy, but that was a bit much.