#though you could make an argument for a gun since he wouldn't be carrying it on behalf of institutional violence

[marley-manson]

i’ve been seeing a lot of mash noir au stuff on my dash recently and it’s making me think, so consider the following:

mash noir canon divergence

hawkeye gets dishonourably or undesirably discharged, can’t be a doctor, can’t really get any kind of legitimate background-check style job, but an old friend from boston or new york is a private investigator and hires him on as a partner. still won’t carry a gun. maybe solves a few mystery novel style cases but the work mostly consists of photographing cheating husbands and pulling hookups by pretending his job is cooler than it is. then one day BJ or Trapper (or Margaret or Charles or Klinger...) tracks him down and comes to him with a problem.

[cursedvida]

It's really crazy to me to see the hate Mae gets, like I was reading some reviews and I can understand not liking a character but as soon as they start with the name calling their opinion is invalid to me because they have no reason to be calling her a bitch, among other things, like it just reeks of mysogyny, (it's like they just want an excuse to call women names) and seeing it coming from other girls makes it worse like..

"Oh the girl was such a bitch why did she do that 🙄" ..is it really that hard to think for a moment about the circumstances in which mae was raised?? Do they need it spell it out for them?? Like, c'mon guys do you really think that the people trapped in a bunker for generations have anything nice to teach/say about the apes?? Wes Ball please give us Mae's backstory in the sequel!! Your audience needs it bc they are out there calling Mae the real villain and saying Proximus was right 💀 (when he was literally everything Caesar hated in an ape)

Look, I'm usually a polite person when expressing my opinions, but I'm fed up with the hate towards Mae, basically because the arguments people give seem incredibly basic to me, typical of people with little to no understanding. Sometimes I doubt if these people have watched the same movie as me or maybe they have some sort of cognitive dissonance, but seriously, I find them ridiculous. Either that, or they are basically the typical comments from misogynistic guys or women with internalized misogyny who can't stand morally gray and questionable female characters.

And well, having said that, I'm going to present my doctoral thesis on this topic:

One of the things I've seen the most is people saying that Mae is evil, the true villain, or an ungrateful traitor to Noa. This argument seems quite incomprehensible to me because, even though we don't have much data about her, I believe there's something very important that explains why she acts as she does: the Proximus apes killed the people in her group, including her mother. I mean: her damn mother. If we add to that the UNDERSTANDING (I mean, you have to be very short-minded not to assume something so obvious) that she has been raised in an environment where they've probably told her all her life that the apes are the reason for all the evils of humanity and the main reason why humans live in shitty conditions, I think anyone with half a brain has enough information to understand why she does what she does.

Yes, Noa is a good guy, but he's not helping her. Noa and Mae have a common goal and decide to ally themselves momentarily to achieve that goal, which is to reach Proximus. As much as they've formed a bond throughout the story, it's not yet strong enough for Mae to set aside what she has worked for so hard. Mae not only bears the weight of humanity on her shoulders but also emotionally carries the idea that she, as the sole survivor of her group, must complete the mission at all costs. Are those who criticize her telling me that if they truly thought that with certain actions they could not only save their species but also honor their loved ones who have been killed infront their eyes, they wouldn't do them? And that they wouldn't do them for someone they've just met, no matter how much they like them? That's just not realistic, it makes no sense. We would all do the same as Mae in her situation. I mean, I have no doubts.

Another thing I love is when they say she's the "true villain" as if it weren't clear enough that she feels bad every time since she forms a bond with Raka and Noa when she does something that she knows may harm them. She feels pain for Raka's death and clearly, you can also see the conflict and remorse when she detonates the bomb. It's not something she enjoys doing, but she HAS to do it. In the final scene, even though she's carrying a gun, you can also clearly see her in conflict with herself. Clearly, she doesn't want to kill him. Clearly, she has nothing against Noa, and this is evident when she finally accepts the necklace and they even shake hands. You can't tell me that's the attitude of a villain, narratively it's not presented as such, and seeing it that way is to have understood nothing.

Mae is a complex character whose life is based on survival, she's no different from the characters we're used to loving and idolizing in other post-apocalyptic series, the difference here for me is that she's human and humans have to be bad by default and also that she's a woman. Because female characters always have to be the support, the romantic interest, or the unconditional friends of heroic male characters, and Mae is none of that. Mae is a character with her own story and ambitions that go beyond Noa's plot. Mae has her own plot, and it seems that's something that bothers people a lot.

I'm sorry, but the hate towards Mae seems very similar to the one people had for Sansa Stark in Game of Thrones, which basically stemmed from people being misogynistic and hating complex and imperfect female characters, combined with how much they hate seeing protagonist characters with such human and real characteristics that they can't bear the idea of seeing themselves reflected in them.

But hey, for Sansa Stark, I would have killed, and now for Mae too. Mae haters basically DNI

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Three [PT. 1]

Words: 3k

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse

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NIKKI

1987

I throw another drink back not long after yelling obscurities at Viv as she stomped out of VIP to leave and go home, between more lines of blow, a trip to the bathroom to get a fix and some drinks, we decide to take the party to Steven's new place. 

"You guys just can't be too loud, though, got it?" He says as sternly as he can as we get inside and he fumbles for his key. 

"Alright, alright, alright," I mumble, stepping inside, grabbing his bottle of Jack off the counter before getting comfortable on the floor by the window. 

We all talk--as best we can--for a little while, Steven and the boys making some calls to get some dealers here, and the only thing on my mind is getting a potent fix, until I hear something...very faint, very familiar...very, very, familiar...I furrow my brows to focus more, ignoring the guys' laughter and voices, my eyes training on the wall opposite of me. 

My subconscious puts it together before my conscious does, like smelling a blanket from a childhood home and immediately being taken back before your brain can quite grasp the feeling. 

Multiple memories shrouding that sound of Vivian that only she can really pull off. 

It doesn't take rocket science equation solving skills to put together why I'm currently hearing her soft, pretty moans carry on next door. 

I'm pretty sure more members of Guns, aside from Steven, are staying here right now. 

Apparently Stevie hears it not long after and slips into the next suite, where the sound is coming from, that's connected to his suite. 

I don't hear it anymore after he gets back in here. 

"Dealer's coming or what?" I ask Steven, my high starting to get blowed from the fact that my wife is next door on her back for someone who isn't me. 

I'd be jealous if I weren't numb to it by now.

"They're all tied up, man." Steven tells me and I groan, thinking for a second. 

An idea comes to mind that makes me want to bang my head against the wall, but I'm desperate and left with no option at this point. 

"I know a guy," I mumble, dragging myself up to the phone in the little kitchen area, reluctantly dialing a number I never wanted to dial again. 

It rings once...twice...three times… 

"Hello?" He answers and I roll my eyes. 

"'Sup man, it's Nikki." I reply, trying to put on my best "friendly" voice, even though it's making my blood boil that the bastard I could see myself killing is ultimately the one that's gonna be able to save the day. 

"Hey, dude." He replies. 

"Me and a few buddies of mine are out here at the Franklin Plaza Suites and need a few things." I rub the back of my neck. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

It's quiet, and he reluctantly breathes out. 

"I'll see what I can do." I can hear the satisfaction in his voice that I'm having to call him. 

Within the next forty minutes there's more people here than I'm comfortable with, groupies, and hangerson, and other drug adoring morons, and then my saving grace comes through the door once Steven lets him in. 

Slash is already slipping into a Jack induced stupor. Sally came in a few minutes ago screaming at all of us guys for leaving her at the Cat House. 

We didn't even realize we'd forgotten her. 

She's in the bathroom, probably keeping herself in there to keep from starting an argument with Slash in front of everyone. 

Robbin's on the phone with Laurie.

Apparently it's just in men's nature to get fucked up, call our wives, and profess our undying love for them despite the fact we cheat on them nearly every time we hangout with our friends. 

I wonder what would happen if I went in there on her and Duff right now. 

What would she say? 

Probably nothing. 

She'd just look at the floor and try not to cry, probably. 

What would I do? 

I know that I know what's going on between them, but if I actually walked in and saw them together, caught in the act…

I'd either be a pussy and cry over it, or kill them both--him first and make her watch, and then just slowly torture her or something. God, I'm fucked up. Even though I'm pretty sure being married to me is torture enough to her. 

I know it's torture to me, too. 

"Here dude," Sparkie hands me a syringe and a spoon, and I look at him, too out of focus to concentrate on getting it right. 

"Fix me." I say to him and he scoffs. 

"Okay, dude." He starts getting it ready and I look at that wall again. Staring at it, taking a sip of my drink. 

Fucking Vivian. 

Of course. Her. Of all the women I've hooked up with and dated in my life, she--the most harmless, at least in my dumbfuck mind when I first met her--is the one to screw me over like this. 

And I've let her. 

If I did what Vince does to Sharise and have that whole, "no hanging out with your boy friends without me" rule, this wouldn't even be an issue. 

That's the problem. Somewhere along the way I loosened her leash a little too much and now she's chewed her way through it entirely. 

"You look like you're in hell, you know," Sparkie tells me, fixing the tourniquet around my arm… "But that's okay, you're about to be in heaven in just a few seconds." He assures me. 

I know he's right. I just need to hang on to that. 

In just a few seconds, I'll be--

I hear Vivian, again, and I reach around my neck and grab onto her cross I've been wearing for weeks, now, squeezing it at the sting of the needle going into my skin. 

I feel him shoot me up, my mind waiting to chase and catch the high that I just know is about to come. 

My fingers slip from the crucifix, and I feel myself fall back before a weightless feeling washes over me.

Present

I keep rereading the damn paper, repeatedly, trying my hardest not to throw a fit...

Nikki Sixx and his wife, Vivian, recently confirmed that she is indeed pregnant issuing a simple and straightforward,"Yes, it's true," statement earlier this week through Nikki's manager, and--as speculated--her pregnancy is not with Nikki. Many fans and some friends of the couple are blown out of the water by this sudden turn of events, others who are familiar with the rockstar and his band but never really paid much attention to his personal relationships, are now curious as to who exactly Vivian Sixx is. Well, in an open letter, rumored to be intended for print in Rolling Stone, a few anonymous former roadies of Mötley Crüe--who partook on their Girls, Girls, Girls, tour in 1987--are here to introduce who they saw behind the scenes of flashing cameras and public sweet moments with husband Nikki. 

"This is a letter to Mötley Crüe fans, we're a mere handful of people out of the many who witnessed monstrosities behind the scenes while on tour with the Crüe since Summer of 1987, none of which were caused by the band or any members, themselves, but one woman in particular. We had no reason to really bring any of this up, but in light of recent news, we are disheartened and angered of the betrayal against one of the four men who gave us an opportunity to live several months in our lives that will forever impact us in the best way known, and provide heartwarming memories by the dozen. This is not an attack on Nikki Sixx, especially given his past struggles with opioid addiction, alcoholism, as well as his abusive wife. The first time we met Vivian, she was polite and friendly, but very assertive. It was obvious it would be her way or no way,  and often times she and Nikki would go back and forth with who was running things. It was obvious Nikki was unwell at times, whether it'd be hungover, sick from withdrawal or simply tired from a show the night before. Vivian would choose these times when he was at his most exhausted to pick fights with him. He'd tell her to go away or 'f**k off,' and she'd continue to verbally and mentally beat him down more than he clearly already was. When Rolling Stone came to interview the band shortly after the wild rumor Vanity started publicly, we were told Vivian had tried to physically attack the reporter working on the story, simply because he made the comment that Pepsi wasn't good for her. Small things like that would often set her off, leaving security, managers, and band members to try to dodge fists while pulling her off of her unsuspecting victim, who was typically Nikki. Many times we'd hear them arguing in the hotel rooms, dressing rooms, bathrooms, tour bus, etc., usually followed by sounds of what we can only describe as 'pitchy, hungry, pornstar moans' on her part--clearly using her body to get back in his good graces after wearing him down. After their fights, Nikki would always have a bottle of alcohol on hand, some kind of drug, and would keep to himself. Our comradery with him soon began to dwindle with each month because it was obvious she was beginning to suck the life out of him. He was more introverted overtime, and higher more often than he was at the beginning of the tour. It really got bad when Guns N' Roses came on tour for a month, because Vivian's attacks on him and the other members of Mötley Crüe, began to pop off as randomly and explosively as fireworks. We'd witness some foul exchange (brought on by Vivian)  between her and Nikki backstage, either verbal or physical, nearly every night. People can talk down on the Crüe for being bad boys, but they've shown everybody that's helped them on tour, gratitude. All the wives and girlfriends that would come on that we'd offer food and drinks to would always express gratitude with a smile and a warm heart, but Vivian would always stay silent and cold towards us. She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her. We aren't surprised that she's pregnant, she probably video taped herself conceiving the damn thing and sent it to Nikki. We hope she did so it can be practice  for her inevitable low-budget porn career when she runs out of rockstars to f**k and kill, as we've mentioned, she already sounds like one in the throws of passion. Anyway, Nikki, we're hoping you decide to kick her aside and start fresh. Duff, get a paternity test, dude. Crüe fans, don't let that red-headed bitch fool you."

"Who the hell is Page Six to give these bastards a platform in the first place, Doc?!" I snap.

"Nikki, I am handling it, I'm on it--"

"--You tell the L.A. Times and Rolling fucking Stone if they take this shit and run with it, too, I'm personally coming to their offices and fucking them up. Not the publications themselves, but the people trying to put this out there in print, individually." I hiss.

"Nikki, just--" 

"--And who the hell--what roadies did this?!" 

"I don't know, Nikki, but I'm trying my hardest to get it cleaned up." He assures me. 

"'She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her'?!" I read that snippet, just so he can be reminded how fucked this is, trying my hardest not to start pitching a fucking fit. 

"Fucking AJaxx isn't even cleaning this up! Press mongrels are gonna be humping these bastards legs for giving them sales for the next nine months!" I outburst. 

"Sixx, don't worry about it, alright? It won't go past this shitty Page Six story, okay?" 

"It's fucking horse shit." I ignore him, trying to keep my cool. "Fuck." I kick at the leg of the table, running a hand through my hair.

"I guess one decently positive thing is that Viv doesn't know about this," he says next and I shake my head a little, feeling a migraine starting to come on, strong. 

I was tempted then to check myself out of rehab and 'handle' it myself, but decided it wouldn't be worth it. I hoped it would go away and it would all blow over eventually.

"Vivian, don't listen to any of it, alright? Me and you and everyone on that tour know damn well it wasn't just you being a bitch and us being the innocent victims." I say through the phone as Viv tries to calm down, her breathing shaky and ragged from crying so much. 

"I know that but the fans and other people don't know that." She says to me, her voice quiet and tired. "I'm so embarrassed, Nikki." She adds. "I'm already embarrassed that everybody knows I cheated on you but now this whole thing…" she trails off and I feel guilt tug at my heart. 

I don't know what the fuck to say. 

I'm used to criticism from the press, but none of them have tore into me or any of the guys--except Vince after the Razzle accident--so personally and extensively as they're tearing at her. 

Calling me a devil worshipper and saying my music is shitty gets annoying and frustrating and even infuriating at times, but attacking my wife and calling her a low budget porn star and telling me to kick her aside? 

Fuck that. 

"I'm sorry, Viv. I really am." I assure her, honestly, closing my eyes when I hear her stifle a little sob out. "Where are you at right now?" I ask. 

"Duff wanted me to meet his family." She tells me. "I'll be back Saturday." 

I'm relieved she actually has a reason for not being here, but I'm also hurt that she didn't give me a heads up. But I don't want to talk about it right now. I think she's been punished enough today. 

"Okay...you didn't show yesterday and I was just worried." I admit. 

"I know, it was just a spur of the moment thing. He asked me last week and I didn't think it'd be an issue." 

"Oh." 

I glance around and let out a breath. 

"I, um, I'm gonna go. I got a group thing with the guys at 3:00." I tell her. 

"Okay." 

"Are you gonna be okay or do I need to break out and kick someone's ass?" I ask her, half-joking, and she laughs, making me smile. 

"I'll be okay." She tells me. 

"I'll see you next week, Sixx." 

I can practically hear the smile in her voice when she says, "see you next week." 

We hang up and I rub my lips together, taking a few deep breaths before heading to where me and the guys meet with Amber three times a week now. 

Tommy and Vince are waiting for me, and I plop down beside them, leaning forward, elbows on my knees, hands running over my face…

"Psst," Tommy nudges me and I look at him as Vince gets up to grab a cup of coffee. 

"What?" I ask him, and he puts his finger over his mouth. 

"You seen the shit they're on Vivian for?" He whispers and I furrow my brows, looking around. 

"The room is empty except us, dude, why are you--"

"--Shh," he says. 

"Why are you whispering?" I finish my sentence. 

"Because they probably have this motherfucker bugged out the ass." He replies, glancing around again. "I'm thinking of breaking outta here, man." He whispers very, very quietly. 

"You do know we're not being held here by legal obligation, right? They won't chase us down and have the cops on us if we just check ourselves out." I point out and he furrows his brows a little. 

"Oh." 

"Why do you wanna 'break out'?" I ask. 

"I miss Heather and my dogs and I wanna be able to be there Viv, dude. She fucking needs us right now and we're, like, over an hour away--disconnected from shit. I mean we wouldn't even know what the fuck was going on in the world if Doc wasn't keeping us in the loop, ya know?" 

I think about it for a second. 

"We're over a month into our three month stay, dude." I state. "We can't just throw in the towel, now." 

"I don't mean ditch it and stay gone. I just mean check out for a few days, go back home, see what all is going on and come back." He shrugs. 

It seems oddly appealing. 

Way too appealing, actually. 

"I don't know, Tommy…" I rub the back of my neck.

"I already talked to Vince about it and he's down."

"Of course he is." 

"And we wouldn't be doing it tomorrow or anything. I'm thinking next week." 

"Does Doc know?" I ask. 

"Fuck Doc." He scoffs. 

"Agreed." I nod, chuckling. 

"So, you in or not, man?" 

"Just for a few days?" 

"Just for a few days." 

"Then we're all coming back in?" 

"Like we never left to begin with." 

"No drugs, no parties, not even alcohol." 

"Just spending time with our families and then back to the grindstone." He states. 

"...I'm in."

 ...You know when you're on a shitty diet, eating boring, tasteless, "healthy" food, and then decide you've been stuck to your diet long enough that you can have one slice of cake because you're disciplined enough to control yourself? And now, two years later, you're still telling yourself you'll get back on your diet because after that slice of cake you just said, "fuck it," and never thought about forcing yourself to eat lettuce again? Let's just say leaving rehab prematurely works the same damn way.

[dindooku]

rating: E (swearing)

word count: 8,162

You woke to a jolt and the sudden displacement of something beneath you. Before you could catch yourself, you'd fallen harshly to the floor in an agitated heap of confusion and blurred vision.

"Shit, Amy...we have to get up, it's late, we're late--," growled Obi-Wan, who, once you managed to open your eyes to catch onto the commotion soon recognised that he was scrambling around the apartment like a headless chicken. You’d both fallen asleep on the couch from last night, your head resting peacefully on his lap, or at least it was until he’d gotten up so quick he’d thrown you off the sofa in blinded panic. However he was so caught up in whatever he was doing he didn’t even notice you lying grumpily on the floor as he was frantically grabbing things, clothes specifically and chucking them untidily into the duffel bag he'd somehow scraped up in his scurry.  But that's not what caught your attention, it was instead the unsavoury choice of words the ever-polite Obi-Wan Kenobi had decided to use. Like Christmas had come early, you jumped at the opportunity to chastise the man.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi! I beg your pardon?" you say in a mock shock voice from the floor of his apartment, making a dramatic gasp as you sit up and prop yourself up on the sofa. You were a terrible actor, and it showed. Nonetheless, you got your point across.

"Oh don't even start my Dear, you have no ground to stand on!" Obi-Wan reprimands, but not bothering to turn and face you, instead focusing his sole attention on packing his wardrobe, as well as a few extra things for you. You'd not had chance to shop or grab any spare clothes since your arrived so his old Padawan robes would have to do. Once you'd made yourself comfy again, you curled up into the corner of the sofa, tucking your hands under your thighs as you watched the man panic. You don't understand what all the fuss is about, it's not like you had anywhere to be.

"What's the rush?" you ask, he really was visibly irritated, it was obviously something important.

"We are late! We are meant to be boarding in 10 minutes, and I haven't even packed, and neither have you! This is most--," Obi-Wan stammers, nearly tripping over his cloak as he hurriedly shucks it on and over his shoulders. He opens the last drawer to the cupboard on the right and pulls out more robes and another cloak and all but chucks them at you. You don't even have time to react before he's commanding you, kneeling down at the foot of the sofa in front of you and unlacing your boots.

"What do you think you're doing?! Not even gonna buy me a drink before--" you say shocked, but this time your reaction isn't fake. What the fuck does he think he's doing?

"Its’s not that, Amy, we have a mission, were heading to Yerbana to quell the separatist disturbance, I haven't got time to explain now--" he says, pausing as he pulls the second boot off and pats your thighs in a way to get you up, again picking up the clothes he had chucked at you and forcing them into your hands, "just please get changed! We have to leave, now." he finishes. You mumble a grunt of displeasure at the sudden wake-up call but do as you’re told, jogging off to your room to quickly get changed and grab your rucksack. You do a quick pass over to make sure you have everything, but then you realise you still haven't been given your guns back from before the hospital. You're not leaving this planet without them, no way in hell. You shout from your room, "Obi!", your new nickname for him muffled by the spare t-shirt you’d packed on Earth being pulled over your head, your fringe falling into your eyes before you have chance to pin it back. You don't have time to fix it right now, so the messy, unkept ponytail will have to do.

"What?" he shouts back, followed by the metal ding of something falling to the floor.

"Where's my guns?" you shout back.

"What?!" he shouts again, you can hear the frustration building in his tone.

"Where. Are. My. Guns?" you punctuate, practically screaming now.

"I, uh, I had to give them to Cody for inspection, they're not standard issue!" he shouts back. He was obviously lying and he was doing a terrible job as well, which only wound you up more.

"Wha--Why?! They're my guns, I need them! Where are they?!" you're dumbfounded. They're your things, he didn't have the right to take them from you - yes they're guns but surely they had seen a pistol or submachine gun before, they could've given them back to you by now. Plus, the temple was practically surrounded by armed guards, and if Obi-Wan got to carry his lightsaber, why couldn’t you carry your guns?

"Why do you need to know?!" He shouts, and you hear his footsteps closing in on your location.

"I need them!" this mans got some right cheek expecting you to leave this planet without any form of protection.

"We can just give you some of ours! Come on and hurry up!" he finishes by knocking impatiently at your door, and the faint tap of his foot tapping against the floor echoes quietly in your room. You cant help the familiar feeling of anger rising in your chest, but you do your best to quell it as you open the door... aggressively, still in the process of shifting your rucksack onto your back. You grit him an angry look before striding out past him and back over to one of his cupboards. Maybe he'd stashed them away somewhere in his apartment? He’s lied before, who’s to say he hasn’t hidden them from you?

Recognising what you're doing, he grabs you by the arm and begins to pull you over to the door. Now, you would've protested like you did the day before, but as soon as that memory of the aftermath hit you, you knew better than that, you'd never react like that again, not after the way he treated you after; he was too kind, too caring for his own good. You swore you wouldn't be cruel to this man; and you couldn't deny, for some reason…this small tiff was exciting you. You were now leaning into his touch, his charge over you was drawing you in. But, you knew better than to get shitty with him so you bit your tongue and thought of a different approach - opting instead just to do the easiest thing and keep quiet; but he was insistent on dragging you away so you had no other choice, "Uh-uh, I am not leaving this planet without my stuff!" you say, beginning to lose your patience and yanking his arm off of yours as you stride over to the other side of the room, checking the other cupboards and looking for any secret compartments.

"The Republic is in danger!" He all but shouts, exasperated, his arms moving wide as he shows his complete agony at your refusal to leave. Time was ticking and he couldn't be late, Obi-Wan Kenobi was never late.

"Your life is in danger if you don't. give. me. my. guns." you sneer, turning aggressively and striding up to him, squaring up just millimetres from his face.

"We have to leave right now! This is for the greater good!" He curts back, grabbing you by both arms and moving in even closer to you to the point if you wanted to, you could head-butt him and he wouldn't be able to react, no-matter what Jedi senses he had.

"Greater good?! Don't give me that bullshit," you snide, but then you notice the smallest of smiles tickle his lips, and that fire in his eyes from yesterday has all but relit, this time a warm and flickering flame. You know you shouldn't wind him up, it only makes things worse, but by God did you just not give a fuck anymore. Fuck it. You cant even have an argument with this man without getting turned on. So screw it, you're gonna embrace these feelings even though you know you shouldn't; for the moment, the reward outweighs the benefit - you're in a different fucking galaxy for Christ's sake, anything is possible. Grow a pair and just say it.

"I am the greatest good you're ever gonna get, Master Kenobi" you snarl, but in a smirky, flirtatious way. Two can play this game Mr. Kenobi; if you're gonna flirt with me, I'm gonna flirt with you.

Game on.

Kenobi stammers, but he doesn't move away like you expected him to, instead he is just still. He doesn't even risk breathing and you wonder if you have broken some sort of programming chip or if Obi-Wan.exe has actually stopped working. After a hot minute, his grip on your arms tightens, and before you know whats going on, the room spins around you - everything a blur. And then thud, shit, you're trapped against the wall. What is going on--

He's kissing you.

Okay you definitely were not expecting this reaction. However you don't protest, it's futile, you want this man and he wants you; and with the little space he has allowed for you to move...you lean into it, pouring everything into this kiss in an effort to cleanse your guilty conscience. You shouldn't be indulging in this, you hardly knew him...but why did it feel so right?  Why did it feel like his lips were carved exclusively for you, like his desperation was only cured by the intimate presence of your skin to his? You could question it all you liked, but you knew you were meant to do this. You felt a cool and icy shiver rack your body, only for it to be chased away by a searing heat that ignited your senses and threw you into the deep end of arousal. You were hot, but not in reaction to temperature, but hot and drunk on his heat, his incessant movements and pressure, his greatest efforts to get more of you, his need to make you understand how you make him feel. So you return the favour, moving your jaw in unison with his, your minds and souls binding and moving like forbidden clockwork. It felt so fucking good, he felt good, everything in this moment felt good. His soft lips were a juxtaposition to his actions, he was rough, aggressive - completely contrasting to his usual gentle nature.

This was needy, possessive. He needed you, and you needed him.

Eventually you both had to break away for air, and it was then you realised that his hands had moved from your arms and were now either side of your head, gripping tightly to your hair like he was afraid you'd slip away if he let go. But you would never go, not after that; not after feeling what you felt. The thought of leaving his side now panged your chest, and you felt this unwritten connection to his soul - it was nothing you've ever felt before, something you don't want to feel again with anyone but him.

"I--I'm sorry, I shouldn't ha--," he rasps, and his eyes widen with panic as he realises exactly what he's just done. His body had gone into autopilot and he just couldn't resist the temptation to just show you exactly what those words made him feel. He'd only known you briefly for a day or so, but he already knew you spoke the truth - you were the greatest good he was ever going to get, and he could not let you think otherwise; he'd be a fool to make the same mistakes as before, especially when he felt this strongly about you. It was forbidden, the Jedi Order would not condone his feelings; but the pain he has felt time and time again is not an option anymore. He is going to take your advice and serve himself, to be selfish just this once. The Force had brought you two together for a reason. He couldn't deny the feeling the felt the moment his lips touched yours; an incredible heat burned his body from the inside out but was immediately extinguished by a glorious cooling  surge of ice that calmed his nerves and sent him falling into the ever deepening pit of lust. It was like you were made for each-other, perfectly complimenting the others differences and calming the raging storms that twisted and turned within both your souls, pooling and mixing into something you could both share, a united feeling that was exclusive to just you and him.

"Shut up--" you moan, leaning in to kiss him once again, this time throwing your arms around his neck to bring his body to yours. You needed to be close, to be his.

That was it. His last tether of resolve singed away and the ice from before swept him into a frenzy. He grabbed you again, and like before, the intimate feeling of your souls blending blinded his arousal and shot shooting pains though his chest.

'ting-ting-ting-ting'

“What's--that," you breathe out between kisses, hoping you're just hearing things. Yet you aren't, and Obi-Wan reluctantly pulls away and turns away from you. He knows exactly who that is. How was he going to get himself out of this one?

"Anakin"

"Obi--Master. Are you okay? You're late...and you look flushed, are you ill?" Anakin inquires, the blue holo-projection of his head moving closer to inspect Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan hastily turned away from you, doing his best to get you out of the frame - he could hide his emotions, you could not, and by the way your hair was strewn in wild directions here, there and everywhere, it'd be quite obvious why he was late.

"No, no, I'm fine, I--My alarm didn't go off and so I woke up late, Amy has just finished getting ready and were on our way down now," Obi-Wan blurts out. He was a great negotiator, yes - but Anakin knew his Master like no one and he soon caught onto Obi-Wan's poor attempt at lying.

"Master...," Anakin pauses, and you notice him clearly eyeing up Obi-Wan in speculation. You silently prayed he would not catch on; you had a bad feeling Anakin was someone who would not let you forget something like this, and you hoped not for your sake but for Obi-Wan's that he'd drop the act soon enough, "Sure Master...sure. Get down here, we're leaving in 10." Anakin smirks before cutting the transmission - not allowing Obi-Wan to protest.

"Shit" Obi-Wan swears. 

"Language" you remind him, giggling as he turns and gives you the evils. But it doesn't last long, and he soon joins you until you're both in a fit of laughter. Surely if it felt this good it was the right thing to do?

"Come on, we don't have long, let's get down there before they suspect anything else, come," Obi-Wan finishes, hitting the panel on the door and grabbing his duffel bag on the way out as you follow him into the hallways and to the hanger.

________

As far as awkward conversations go, this just about takes the cake.

You were stood in the ships war room, alone with Obi-Wan and Anakin. The silence was deafening, and you couldn't ask Obi-wan for help because he was just as guilty as you. You were both to be punished it seems, but you'd always argue it was worth it.

"So...let's address the bantha in the room" Anakin starts off strong - you freeze. You're pretty sure your heart just dropped out your chest, or you wished it would because it would be less painful than having to sit through this conversation. Obi-Wan however is as cool as ice, and you suppose this is why he has the rank of General and is one of the most decorated Jedi in the Order...or so Anakin tells you; either way he is the epitome of calm and he brushes Anakin's comment off like an insignificant breeze with a roll of his shoulders. 

"And what's that, Anakin?" Obi-Wan interrogates. He's feeling risky today - you have to admit, the guys got balls. If attachment is forbidden, he really is running a fine line, maybe the general isn't as much of a straight arrow as you thought - everyone loves an adrenaline rush...

Anakin eyes the both of you for a hot minute. His attention leaves Obi-Wan and zones in on you. He knows you're the weakest link here, or that is what he thinks anyway. Come on Amy, get your shit together, you were in the SAS for fucks sake!

"Yes, Anakin?" you snap back at him before he has a chance to interrogate you too. You broaden your shoulders and take a step towards him, moving past Obi-Wan and standing protectively in front of him. Inside you were screaming, but on the outside, you were as hard as Beskar. Nothing was going to move you, you were a force that couldn't be reckoned with. Anakin was quiet, but he caught your body language and strode towards you, crossing his arms across his chest and looking down at you - his own attempt at intimidation. But it was no use, you'd faced worse people, warlords and mass murderers. Anakin was easy game.

"Nothing." He hums, but it soon turns into a smirk. He eyes you, hard, like he's somehow seeing past your barriers and not at you, but through you; like he was reading your mind. It was weird, and an odd tingle scratched at the back of your head. On impulse you reached back and scratched it, but it wouldn't rid the dull ache that was quickly forming. The only way you could describe it was like someone was knocking on your head from the inside. Obi-Wan noticed your confusion and stepped in, curbing a situation before it starts.

"Anakin you know better than that, don't." Obi-Wan warns, chastising the younger man for his behaviour. You didn't know what was going on but figured it was some weird space wizard shit so you just kept to yourself. Even if they were to explain it, you were sure you wouldn't understand anyway. You just wanted to hear the mission debrief, get your guns back and find your cabin. Obi-Wan had mentioned you using a data pad on the walk to the ship as a means to pass the time - but you had a feeling you wouldn't be doing much reading considering you were about to become a motherfucking Astronaut. This was something you hadn't told Obi-Wan - you were originally an academic. You accepted an offer to study Astrophysics at Oxford - your dream literally coming true. It was all you ever wanted, to learn and study the stars, the moons and planets - endless, infinite lands and places of opportunity, discovery.

Space mesmerized you.

It always had. It was something you and your Dad we're always interested in. You supposed your curiosities stemmed from his own fascination with life outside of the little rock you inhabited, and those principles were drilled into your soul from the moment you were born. The sheer mass of concept for Space was incomprehensible to the human mind, and you always found yourself wondering what it was like beyond what you could see, what was yours to understand. The theory of reality is what caught your attention, what really drew you in. You figured out from an early age that things only exist because they're ours, because our eyes have laid upon them; like discovering a continent for the first time, or finding a new star in the sky; our cognition on reality changes every-time a new one is discovered. But reality doesn't define truth. Reality is a concept moulded by the human mind, it's programmed into us, allowing us to function in our reality; and to us, that is all that matters, that our truth is our reality. To us, humans on Earth, life means something - an organism that is living; but that's our concept of reality on life. Other creatures may have other definitions and criteria for life, and that's why when Obi-Wan attempted to explain the Force and its intelligence, the fact that it binds and interwinds with everything within the Galaxy, your interest surged. The infinite possibilities of your conscience instantly evolved beyond control and now you were incapable of grasping any form of relativity because your basis for understanding, your core concepts of life, your own reality had shifted - and like gravity, your connection to life as you knew it had all but been manipulated into something new, a different mass of knowledge, a different belief.

A new reality.

But you don't get much time to contemplate as the doors to the war room open and a few soldiers walk in. You turn around to face them and stand at attention - this was a habit that wasn't going to break anytime soon.

“Cody, Rex - this is Amy. She’ll be joining us to Yerbana,” Obi-Wan introduced you. The two soldiers nodded their heads in acknowledgement.

“Yes, we've heard of you, the troops are eager to meet you, say - you were a solder before you found yourself here?” Rex asks, removing his helmet along with Cody and resting it under his arm.

“Yes, I was a Commanding Officer in the SAS... Which is like intelligence and reconnaissance. We were best of the best.” you reply. You weren't one for self-praise but you also weren't lying - the SAS was one of the top, if not the best armed intelligence organisation on Earth, and you were proud to be considered an essential part.

“Ah, perfect. We have the mission detail here, we are eager to hear your opinion on our strategy, General Kenobi told us that was one of your specialities?” Cody returned. This calmed you a little, A - because you'd be doing something familiar, something you were naturally gifted at, organising battle-plans and stealth routes; and B - because Obi-Wan had spoken highly of you to the Troops. It was a small gesture but heartwarming all the same.

“Sure, let's have a look, ” you assert, slipping into your commander mindset instantly.

_____

The plan was a solid one, you had to give them that - although the only grievance you had was Anakin's obsession with running head-first into danger. You'd said time and time again that there was a time and a place for blunt aggression, but he was just not having any of it. He insisted his team, the 501st was to go for a full-on frontal assault. Your frustration with his incompetence and disregard for your opinion was frustrating beyond belief. Every time someone brought up a new idea, he'd just butt in and demand he knew best. Over an hour had passed and you'd had enough.

‘Skywalker, how am I going to get it past that thick skull of yours that running headfirst into a firefight we are blatantly outnumbered against is not only a stupid idea but a selfish one at that?” you let out, gripping the sides of the war table until your knuckles had turned white. You didn't need to look up to know the face he and everyone else in the room was pulling. The room was silent, no-one even dared to breathe. You had been calm throughout the whole instigation, choosing only brief moments to speak and provide your input. But he was just driving you up the wall. No one said anything so you continued.

“I have faced countless war zones, seen death more times than I would like to ever admit, as I am sure you have as well. Yet you seem so complacent with your tactics? Use that brain of yours and see the bigger picture, hmm? If we run headfirst into this, block A and C will be overrun within minutes, and no amount of Jedi fuckery is going to save you from that; so drop the hero antics and listen. If the 212th drop at B, and you drop at D, we can counter from both sides whilst I send my crew in through C and infiltrate from inside; disabling the electronics, lights and defensive cannons. This will buy you both a distraction and we can work from the inside out, as well as allowing aircraft artillery to attend if things go south. If their attention is initially drawn to my team, their backs will practically be turned to you and then you can swing that glitter stick of yours to your hearts content, ok? Just... for the love of Christ have some patience” you finish, breathing heavily now that you’d managed to get your plan out in the open.

No one dared to say a thing, and you were now regretting your informal choice of words and chastising. You weren’t even part of the Army here and you were inciting orders. But, before you could backtrack, Anakin interjected.

“You’re right,” Anakin mumbled, followed by a brief huff of frustration, “I just want to get this over with…either way we still have the weeks long travel there and back, we have plenty of time to plan. Let’s pick this up tomorrow.” he finished, and you don’t even get time to reply before he is strutting out of the room in a sulk. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan follows. You don’t see the cautionary glance he gives you, but knows better than to let his former Padawan stroll off alone with his emotions. He could practically feel the anger in swathes. You were with Rex and Cody, they’d look after you - so Obi-Wan shuffled after Anakin and out into the hallway. 

You still haven’t bothered looking up from the table and your shoulders tense when the heavy doors swing back shut at Anakin’s angered exit. You close your eyes and take a deep breathe, counting down from ten like you always did back home when someone would aggravate you. It was a good tactic and always seemed to work. You get to three before you're interrupted.

“Don’t take it personally, he's always like that. He'll come around soon enough.” Rex says, walking over and standing next to you at the table. You take a deep breathe and centre yourself, letting your frustrations flow away and just leaving it, it’s not worth the agro. You turn to face Rex. 

“Thanks, I apologise for my tone, I should know better than to talk like that.” You admit, looking down at your feet and awkwardly meddling with the loose string you’d picked on the inside of your shirt. Rex didn’t say anything and you thought you were being dismissed as he walked away. You closed your eyes again and took another deep breath. You’d been out of line and let Anakin’s frustrations fuel your own - you knew better than this. You thought of finding Anakin’s quarters and apologising personally, that would be the grown up thing to do. You open your eyes and turn to leave but you’re stopped in your tracks by Cody handing you a large black crate. 

“Whats this, Cody?” You ask, taking the crate from him and placing it down on a near table. 

“Your guns, we have a few questions if you don’t mind?” Cody confers, and you follow him over to the table Rex had decided to sit at, placing the crate onto the middle of the table. You sat down opposite the two troopers, not bothering to hide the excited grin that prickled your lips. 

“Sure, what can I do to help?” You say, turning your attention from the odd crate to the two solders. 

“What are they, your guns? We can’t seem to figure it out…?” Cody admits, placing his helmet on the floor as he reaches over and begins to open the crate. Your guns come into view, your few possessions of your life from home. Your heart jumps at the realisation Obi-Wan hadn’t been lying, and then a pang of embarrassment tugs your heart as you remember how you spoke to him, thinking he was purposefully hiding them from you. They were just genuinely curious, and you internally curse yourself for being so bigoted. 

“Well, they’re just regular guns, two Glocks and a M14EBR assault rifle. They’re standard in the military, or at least where I’m from. Why? Have you never seen a gun, I mean you guys are constantly carrying them around!” You don’t even bother trying to hide your confusion, maybe you’d hit your head when you fell off the sofa this morning? But either way, any opportunity to talk equipment guiltily made your mouth drool. 

You had an odd relationship with guns. Often people would argue that they caused death and pain and where unnecessary, and you agreed with them, which seems hypocritical at first. Except for the fact that your viewpoint wasn’t typical of a solider. You would love a world where guns did not exist, you hated their concept of design for murder, but at the same time, you knew that you wished for impossible things, and unfortunately the reality was just as painful; sick, twisted people who got their hands on guns often did sick twisted things with them, often to innocent people, and with how guns are designed you had to fight fire with fire. You permitted your use of firearms only in defence and for the protection of others who could not help themselves. It was a difficult parabellum you struggled to grasp at first, but after facing fight after fight, the conflict faded and you saw the truth. 

Humans could be terrible, terrible beings, and some have access to power they should not be trusted with. Unfortunately, there comes a time for hard choices, permanent choices, and someone has to be the messenger. Using guns didn’t make you bad, it was what you were using them for which made you a bad person. You convinced yourself that if you only used them in protective means for those who did not have the same choices as you, you would help them in any way you could, even if it meant defiling your moral privilege to do so. Over time, you’d become fond of your equipment and the experiences you’d witnessed using them, with them. It was odd, but you held a deep-rooted and embracing connection to your possessions. They were just guns, but they had saved your life and countless others, but also taken many too. You couldn’t really describe the sentimental love-hate relationship, but they were some of your last remaining reminders of your previous life, and you’d unhealthily cling to them, even though you know you shouldn’t. 

“Ours shoot plasma, yours shoot…metal?” Cody informs, but they seem to be just as confused as you. 

“Yes…they shoot bullets…don’t tell me you’ve never seen it before? A bullet?” You chuckle in disbelief. 

“No, we can’t say we have… how does it work?” Rex asks again. And the three of you spend the next few hours discussing the differences between your experiences. You told them everything about the SAS and how it operated, what missions you’d done and all things in-between. Talking to people of your same nature, who weren’t bound by weird wizard rules but served a power and their brothers, were loyal and part of a bigger family. It was homely, and before long you felt yourself opening up more than you would have expected to. Eventually the conversation landed on your crew:

9’s - he was quiet, never said much. He was called 9’s because he only had 9 fingers. You laughed when you told them about how he’d lost it on his first SAS mission. You’d been on a stakeout in Siberia for intel and in his sleep it had gotten bitten off by a pack of wolves you all had to fight off. It was terrifying at the time but you all look back at in and laugh now. 

Screw - “funny bloke” is all you could describe him. The nickname came from the clear understanding that the moment you met him, you knew he had a screw loose. He was bonkers yet fearless, and he carried your team through the darkest, most dangerous moments. The man had nothing to loose, and that was terrifying but tactful. 

Sleeves - this was quiet self explanatory. Sleeves hated…well, sleeves. Every item of clothing he had couldn’t have sleeves - new tunics were always massacred into tank tops. You all knew it was because he liked to show off his tattoos, but he’d always argue it was because he was hot. You’d all call him out on his bullshit but you loved him all the same. 

Frankie -  his name wasn’t actually Frankie but the moment you found out he had American parents and his favourite food was hotdogs (frankfurters in particular) it was settled, no if’s or but’s. Frankie was sensible, too wise for his age but he still acted like a child sometimes, and you’d always put him in his place. 

Cap - he was the adult of the group. He was sensible, smart and level headed; and acted way too old for his age. But, he was a necessary balance to the group and never swore, and after chastising you on a mission when your language took a particularly sour (British) path  he took the name Cap after you’d called him Cap’n ‘Murica as joke, and it stuck. 

505 - this guy had an obsession with the Arctic Monkeys, and during your first week together he’d sing the song ‘505’ on repeat until you forcibly choked him, forcing him to tap out and stop - only for five minutes until he started again. You had to admit he had an incredible taste in music, and you often found yourself sat next to him on long trips sharing an EarPod. 

Rex and Cody went on to explain the members of their battalions, and you knew instantly that you’d get along. Time had flown between the three of you and before you knew it it was nearing the afternoon. Over time a few of the other troopers had filled into the room, and before you knew it, there was a good 15 or so troopers gathered around the table. You all exchanged wild stories, and many laughed at the way you described a few funny moments - in particular the Siberian wolf incident. It felt so homely to be back with troopers again, people of your own ilk. What did un-nerve you however was the fact that they all looked the same, and it freaked you out even more when they told you they were clones. The shock was obvious and they couldn’t believe you hadn’t mastered cloning on Earth, and it became obvious just how primal your technological understanding truly was. They couldn’t believe it when you’d said you’d only travelled to one moon, and they were even more shocked to find this was your first time in space-flight. Flying through space at light speed seemed so normal to them, except for you it was your wildest dream coming true. But you’d have plenty of time to live in it as you remembered Anakin saying you had a weeks long travel, there and back. Perfect. 

“So, you gonna show is how to use these guns or what?” Cody joked. 

“Sure, you got a gun range or something?” You asked, standing up from your seat and picking up your guns. Fives had asked earlier if you needed anything and you said your rucksack as it contained your thigh holsters for your Glocks, as well as your combat knives and other equipment. He had soon returned and once you stood, you started attaching the various bits and pieces so you could carry everything on your person. 

“Yeah,” Wolffe said, then turning to command the troops, “lets all head over, cmon, follow us,” he finished. You’d finished getting yourself ready and holstered your guns before following them out to the gun range. 

_______

Evening must have been approaching because you were beginning to feel the appetising pull of sleep. The troopers had taken you to the mess hall where you could grab some grub before kicking the bucket for the night. You hadn’t seen Obi-Wan all day, and you had been too busy to even think of him, let alone spend any time with him. But, as you took the last bite of your evening meal, your mind drifted to the kiss from before. The voices of the troopers blurred out and you found yourself recalling the moments in slow motion. 

His lips pressed to yours, seeking comfort and getting only wild emotion in return. He’d said attachment is forbidden, yet he acted with such surity and meaningfulness, it made you question his standpoint on the ‘Jedi Code’ he so rigorously followed. 

You’d never felt anything like that before - the connection you felt to him was lingering and it felt like it hadn’t left. An odd energy tugged at you; you could feel it in your chest, and if you centred yourself and took a moment to feel your emotions you could feel a new, foreign body faintly connected to you. You closed your eyes and tried to focus in on the odd presence, and after a few moments of deep breathing and relaxing, you found yourself in a separate state you had never been in before. Even though your eyes were closed you still felt like you could see, but you didn’t have to move - your eyes were not the stimulus, no - it was your feelings instead; and at the distant corner of your consciousness, a faint, lavender thread attached itself to you. You absentmindedly followed the tether until you found yourself approaching a chasm of light, a deep cerulean blue that circled like a whirlpool in front of you. Yet this wasn’t aggressive or angry like it should be - whirlpools were meant to be dangerous, but this one was different. It was calm and controlled, centred, its energy emanated out from its centre, not from inside - the light it emitted glowing cooly against the stark black backdrop of your consciousness. You felt an immeasurable attraction to it, and you wanted to reach out. But you stopped yourself out of fear for disturbing it - it was so peaceful and sentient, you should be happy enough to just look at it, to be in its presence. 

Thats when you chanced a look at yourself, and you were astonished to find you were glowing red, a hot fire of golden hues. But your light wasn’t emanating from you, instead you were drawing the light into you, sucking at the energy that surrounded you. It was odd, how you contrasted the cloud of blues before you. Everything seemed so nice in this moment, perfect. But it didn’t last long. Before you could stop it, you were reaching out and grasping the blue light, and like how your energy seemed to pull in towards itself, you began pulling and tearing at the peaceful presence before you. You were draining them. The colour began to mix and blend between you, and you panicked. You instantly pulled back and out of your relaxed trance, opening your eyes with a sudden gasp for air. 

The Troopers looked at you weirdly, and it took you a second to collect your thoughts and realise your surroundings. 

“Are you okay?” Jesse asked, placing a hand on you shoulder from across the table. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m good, I—I need to get some sleep. Do any of you know where Obi—General Kenobi is?” You asked, scratching at your face with the lower half of your palms, trying to make sense of what you’d just seen, or felt. 

“No… but I’ll call him, give me a moment” Cody said as he pulled out the communicator. You didn’t listen into the conversation, you couldn’t if you tried. You were so distant, and you were drained. Trying to focus that hard had obviously taken its toll on you and you needed to sit down and piece it all together away from prying eyes. A few minutes passed and soon you were brought back into thinking by the warm presence of Obi-Wan. You stood to get up and greet him but were shocked to find the hallway empty. Thats odd, you could have sworn you felt him— and then he came round the corner. You’d felt his presence before he even got into the room… 

“Amy,” Obi-Wan said as he stood before you. 

“General,” You reply, dumbfounded at your crazy revelation. You must be tired because you’re beginning to imagine things now, “Care to show me where I will be sleeping?” You finish. 

“Sure, follow me. Cody, Rex,” Obi-Wan politely acknowledged before placing a hand on your shoulders and leading you out of the mess hall. 

You followed Obi-Wan to the quarters of the ship, but were surprised when you found yourself in quarters that looked suspiciously like they were his - his woollen cloak was draped over a chair and his lightsaber sat proudly on the small coffee table in the middle of the room. He closed the door behind him before guiding you to the sofa where you’d both sit. However before he sat, he’d stuck the kettle on and grabbed a blanket, carefully draping it over you before he finished preparing the two cups of tea he’d placed out. 

“Obi-Wan,” You start, yawning before taking a sip of the teacup he passes to you as he sits down next to you on the sofa, kicking his feet out and crossing them. 

“Yes?” He asks, but he doesn’t look at you. Instead, he reaches for the odd looking tablet from the table in front of you both and opens it up, his attention drawn to whatever he was beginning to scroll through. He seemed so comfortable in your presence, so natural. He never seemed this relaxed with others - always having a weird guard up that prevented anyone from seeing past the war-hardened General that stood before them. You’d only known each other for a few days now and already it felt like you had known him all your life - this unwritten connection fusing you both together in ways neither of you wanted to acknowledge for the moment. You, because your feelings were moving incredibly fast and you had to be mindful of your situation; you can never trust anyone. Those you have trusted have only ever hurt you and you fear that if you let these feelings harbour in the way they’re un-shamefully manifesting like they are, the moment Kenobi breaks your trust like you know he will, you don’t know if you will be able to hold it together this time. You knew the Jedi order condemned any form of attachment as they lead to dangerous feelings, and now you could start to see their sense. The kiss this morning was dangerous - it restrained your mind from forming coherent thoughts over anything but the kiss. 

You needed to acknowledge it but you didn’t want to sour the sweet memory. The risk of Kenobi’s regret of his actions made you nervously sweat. 

He’d noticed your hesitance and decided to break the ice for you. 

“I apologise for this morning, it was not…” He stammers. And your worst fears are confirmed. He did regret it. He didn’t feel the same as you. And for a second time you feel the heartburning wrench at you feelings. Except this time you knew it was coming. It would have been too good to be true, a man of Kenobi’s stature admitting such strong, unrestrained feelings towards you was not to be condoned. However the painful question burned whether he could not, or would not.

Instead of acting brash and childishly, you sat in silence, letting yourself stew in your own self pity - the only physical sign of your turmoil was the white knuckling grip you had on the tea-cup you were grasping in front of you. He continues, although this is something he would come to regret, “It was unprofessional and I must apologise.” He finishes. 

The grip on the cup doesn’t falter, and now your emotions turn to a bitter ice. You’re so wrapped up in his incredibly bad choice of words that you don’t notice the warm tea within the pot freeze almost instantly, the faint cracks of ice under pressure jolting the tension within the room. 

“Unprofessional?” You say, the calm tone of your voice deceiving…deceiving enough to convince Obi -Wan that you were in fact taking this a lot better than he thought you would be. He didn’t want to cut you off, but he knew he had to. He’d told himself that he would grant himself that moment, this secret. But his meditation earlier today sent him down a different path and the strict code he had practically worshipped since initial autonomy as a child gripped him in a vicious vice and centred him on this authoritarian path of (what now felt like) emptiness. And now he truly did feel like a vessel to the force, a catalyst for a greater purpose. But he knew the pain of dismissing his feelings for you now would be less painful than months and years down the line. He had to cut this connection now before he could not resist the temptations of your comfort any longer.

“Yes, I apologise for my lapse of judgement,” he muttered, not bothering to place the tablet down on the table. He figured if he played it off as casual you wouldn’t react, that if he let on to his feelings you’d somehow convince him he was wrong. He hoped you’d see it as casual, and that your feelings were not as undeniable as his. 

He was wrong. Tragically so. 

“Lapse of judgement?” You repeat. This time the tone of your voice isn’t calm, and instead is broken mid sentence by the painful waver of your true emotions. This causes Obi-Wan to stop scrolling and slowly peer a look to you, one that he now knew to be bad, very bad. 

You closed your eyes and took a deep, shaky breath - your grasp on your hurt only just holding on. The violet tether from before was now lit at both ends like a stick of dynamite, indicating the limited amount of time you had until the grip on your control would surely explode. You had to get away before you did something you’d regret. After all, his unprofessional actions were all but a singing your heartstrings - he didn’t want to feel for you, he felt like you were a mistake, maybe you were. This whole situation was a mistake, and now for the first time; you wish you never let your curiosity guide you. You stupid, stupid girl. 

Without saying anything you put the tea down onto the coffee table before you, still not noticing how you’d frozen it into a solid block. You get up, placing the blanket Obi-Wan had placed over you onto the sofa and walk towards the door. You had no words. None. You had to have some space to process everything - if you were to spend a week on the same ship as this man you had to calm down before you cut the journey short - for everyone. That didn’t guarantee you wouldn’t shoot him the moment you landed. 

“Where are you going?” Obi-Wan asks, following you up out of the sofa and towards the door. This was not his plan at all, how could he have messed up so bad? 

“Away from you.” You reply emptily - no bitterness, anger or frustration. Just empty. He did not deserve your pity. He played you, let out his uncontrollable lust on you and now played it off as if it was nothing, that it was a mistake. No, you would not entertain this sorry state of a man who claims for fight for peace when all he wreaks is havoc on your heart. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Obi-Wan insists. The both of you are now stood at the door, your hand hovering over the button but not pressing it - Obi-Wan keeping his distance, not making the same mistake as last time. 

You can’t hold the sadistic chuckle that leaves your throat. 

“No, General, you said nothing wrong.” And with that you pressed the button and left the room. 

He knew better than to follow. 

After all, this is what he wanted. 

Wasn’t it?

[lousimusician]

Cheater -- Part 2

Pairing: Mob!Tom x Reader

Warning: Sexual harassment, violence

A/N: I wanted to get this out sooner but I've been so busy recently. So sorry for the wait

______

It had been three months since you caught Tom. Three months since you walked out on him forever.

You hadn't seen him since that day. You had been relying on Tom's money for so long, you had to stay over a friend's house until you made enough money to rent an apartment.

It had been hard, but you refused to go back to him. Leaving him had its perks. You didn't have to live in fear for his or your own life anymore, you got to focus on your education, and you got to fix old friendships you lost. Overall, you felt like a normal person for once.

But at the same time, you were in so much pain. The two of you were engaged. You were supposed to get married. You loved him, you didn't believe you could ever love someone that much again. He made you feel beautiful and loved. He was a drug that you had been addicted to, and at some points you believed the withdrawal symptoms would kill you. But you were strong, and you wouldn't run back to him.

Tom on the other hand had been doing much worse than you had. Nothing in Tom's life brought him joy. You were always the one to make him genuinely happy. So with you gone from his life without a single word, he had lost himself in his work. He gained more and more enemies every day because of it. The more money and power he gained was never enough, he was insatiable, craving something that would make the pain a little more bearable. And he found that one thing that made the pain lessen, was to make sure you were safe. He had you followed, had tabs kept on you every week. He knew everything. He even knew that you had gotten a little better from the break up every week while he continued to worsen.

Tom sighed, throwing the papers down on his desk and leaning back into his seat. Frenetic knocking sounded from his office door.

"Come in," Tom shouted, annoyed.

The doors swung open revealing one of his men. "Sir, (Y/N) was kidnapped." The man panted.

Tom's eyes widened and he stood up abruptly. "Go and get Harrison."

~~~~

(Three hours earlier)

You laughed at your friend who decided to visit you at the bar you worked at.

"You actually made him cry?" You laughed.

Your friend nodded her head, "Yeah, it was so funny. Like why be in a debate class and not be able to carry your own argument. He got so frustated he literally stood there and started crying."

"I'm impressed Liza-" You noticed someone sitting down at the bar. "I'll be right back." You said nodding towards the man's direction. She nodded back taking a sip of her drink.

You approached the man nonchantly. "Anything I can get for you?"

The man seemed a little strange, and it was hard to see his face since it was covered by his hood. He lifted his head glancing at your nametag. "Nothing right now, (Y/N)." He said as an unsettling grin formed on his lips.

"Um, alright. Just call if you want something." You hurried away. You felt your heart beat quicken. 

You weren't stupid, you had met plenty of terrifying men while you were with Tom. The only question was if this man was part of a mob or just some creep. 

"You okay?" Your friend asked as you approached her. "You look pale."

"I'm- I'm fine. Uh, so what were you saying before?"

~~

The rest of the night seemed to go by smoothly enough, about an hour after you spoke to the unsetting man he had left, making you feel much better. 

It had gotten pretty late and unfortunately you were the one that was left to close that night. You finished wiping down the bar and all of the tables.

"So, Tom Holland, huh?"

You snapped your head towards the bar, your eyebrows furrowing. It was the same man from before. "How-?"

"That lock." He nodded towards the door. "Child's play. Now, I'm very interested in you (Y/N). Would never peg a girl like you to go around fucking men in the mafia. I see why he would fuck you, though." He said raking his eyes up and down your body.

You scoffed, and crossed your arms. "It was one man. And we're not together anymore so I can't help you with whatever it is you want."

"Oh, but sweetheart. I think you can." He said standing up. 

A flash caught your eye and you found a gun hanging loosley from his hand. Of course there was a gun. There was always a gun. 

He came closer and slowly began circling around you. You stood completely still. "You two were supposed to get married weren't you?" You nodded. "And it turns out Tommyboy is still in love with you."

You felt your heart jump. Of course you were terrified for your life, but Tom still had this power over your heart.

"Oh what's this? You're blushing. Do you still love him too?"

You swallowed nervously. "No, I hate him."

"Hm, I don't believe you-."

"What do you want? You're not really here to talk about my love life, so what do you want?"

"Ooh, okay, I think I'm starting to understand why Holland likes you so much. You're firey. But you're right, what I'm actually here is for leverage."

"Wha-?" But before you could finish, you felt the butt of the gun slam into your head and you were out.

~~

"She's pretty isn't she?"

"Keep it in your pants, that's not what she's here for."

"Yeah but still. Do y'think the boss will let us have a little fun with her before we have to kill her."

"Shut the fuck up and do your job, alright."

"Well he isn't wrong." A third voice interjected. "Holland was a lucky bastard."

You slightly groaned, as you blinked your eyes open, your head pounding. You lifted your head finding the three men that had been speaking, circling around you.

"Good morning, princess. How's your head?" You recognized this voice from the first man that had spoken. He was tall with black hair.

"Don't call me princess."

The two other men laughed. "I'm gonna get the boss. James come with me." The more serious one said before leaving the room with James leaving you alone with the black haired man.

"So you were really gonna marry Holland?" He asked, but you looked away from him and ignored what he said. "Tell me why a girl who seems so obviously innocent would go for a freak like Holland. Hm? Is it cause you like it rough, cause sweetheart if you like it rough, I can have you cumming in seconds."

"You're disgusting. I'd never let you touch me." You spat.

The man slowly started to approach you. Once he reached you, he gripped your chin pulled your face close to his. "Such a filthy mouth." He grinned in amusement. "Did Holland let you speak to him like that or do you like to be put in your place." He leaned in closer so his lips were by your ear. "I bet you're a dirty little slut betwee-"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you." An all too familiar voice said. 

Both your head and the man's snapped towards the door seeing Tom and Harrison standing there covered in blood with raised guns pointed at the man.

The man stood up, "Holl-" but before he could finish both Tom and Harrison shot him dead.

"T-Tom?" You choked out.

"Shh, darling, I've got you." He said, walking over and untying you from the chair you were in. Once the tape was off, you pulled Tom into you, and hugged him tightly, despite the blood that was on him.

You hated him so much but you also loved him and seeing him after being kidnapped all logic left you. You cried into him as he held you tightly to him. You hated to admit how much you really missed him.

"Let's get you out of here, darling."

~~

You sat across from Tom in the back of his car. Harrison was driving.

Neither of you said a word, as you gazed out the window and as Tom took glances at you.

"...Thanks for saving me." You mumbled.

"Of course, da-"

"But just so you know. I still really fucking hate you."

Tom sighed. "I figured as much."

"How did you know where I was?"

"I...I've had some of my men watch you since you left."

You snapped your head towards him. "You what?" 

"I had to keep tabs on you. I'm still in love with you y'know. And my business is messy, I wanted to make sure you were safe." You stayed silent understanding his reasoning. "...Just so you know, I really miss you princess. If it means anything, I haven't had sex with another woman since you've left."

You scoffed. "Nice to know you only have sex with other women when you're with me."

He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. "Come on darling, please. ​​​​​​I need you so much, please just come back."

"...You really fucked up Tom."

"I know, but it'll never happen again, it should've never happened in the first place. I was a fucking idiot. I love you so much, I don't know how to function without you and you're all I think about and it kills me that I don't get to see your beautiful face anymore. Please,��give me one more chance."

You gave Tom a pained look. You were so confused. You sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking.

"Fine, this is how it's going to go." Tom perked up. "Basically, you destroyed the last five years we've been together. So if you want to get back together we're starting on square one again. Which means I'm not moving back in, we're not going to have sex for a long time, and we're obviously not going to get married anymore, until you can build my trust back."

Tom nodded, "Yes, please, I'll do anything you want."

"And Tom, I swear if you do anything to break my heart like that again, you will never see me again."

"I will never break your heart again. I can't live without you."

"Then... I guess we're back together."

He smiled widely. "I guess we are."

_____

Cheater Taglist: @roses-hxlland @ladyblablabla @xxomgitsjustinexx @thealexaworld12 @gwanpool @thollandx @pure-sunflower @avengersthotty @simplysushii

Permanent Taglist: @spiderdudeparker @peterparkers-waffles @smexylemony @ultimategalaxyprogram @xxxxdelenaxxxx @chonisberonica @meaningoflifeisfandoms @aegis-s-s @Just-random-stuff-18 @etherealhollandd @roi-yang @ironspiderstark

[horngryeyes]

though we dont hear much abt his mum either... “she was a tailor but she never sewed me shit” could mean she removed herself from his life as soon as she could. perhaps her proffesion is the only thing that billy told jonny about her.

i would imagine the story going down like this: billy and jack meet, fall in love, get married. it's all sweet until billy hooks up someone - a woman that now is pregnant and doesn't want to raise the child. the thing is, billy decided to be sneaky and talk jack into adoption while omitting the whole “paternity” thing. upon hearing that the child will have a stable, loving home the woman agrees to carry it to term. our baby boy is born. billy manages to pull the whole “i know a pregnant woman, she doesn’t know the father but she doesn’t want the child, she’ll be happy to give it to us” thing off except for one part - jack finds out. not immidiately, no. he raises the kid with billy for a few years - changing the diapers, teaching him to walk and trying to get him to go to school (though jonny somehow always manages to play hooky). around jonny’s 8th birthday, the word gets out. at first jack doesn’t believe it, but then he connects the pieces - the same sharp look in their eyes, the same way their hair curls when it gets too long, the same kind of smile. they always joked about how jonny could really be billy’s son. now those jokes don’t seem so funny anymore. he is heartbroken. he feels his entire world collapse, all this trust and security he felt while he was with billy dissapears. after a few heated arguments the divorce goes smoothly - billy knows just exactly what he did and doesn’t deny it. though the court is clear - the kid is billy’s. it's his actual son and if they split up, there’s no reason for jack to get custody. jack feels as if all his life went to waste - the only thing he has left is the casino.

so he stays and works on it, making it a perfect mixture of gambling, alcohol and organized crime. since only jack owned any estate in the town, he expected billy and his son to move out, walk away from the pain and hurt. but they didn’t. they stayed in town, a vicious reminder of the past and everything that made jack feel sick. he watched the boy grow up into a young man, always passing the casino but not noticing the man inside it. in new texas, everyone at some point goes to a casino. even when their father tells them that going there will bring only hurt and corruption, even when their father begs them not to, even when the only explanation they get is "jonny, you wouldn't understand. you must trust me. please trust me". but billy never really had any control over his boy, didn’t he? once jonny was old enough to drink, gamble and hold a gun, he started going to the casino. when jack saw him, he was paralyzed. his body stayed still, but his mind worked quickly, suddenly bringing up all the revenge plans that he made to keep himself busy for all these years. they all suddenly seemed possible. it was time for billy vangelis to finally pay the debt he owed to jack for all the time that they spent together, for all those lies that he told, for all the hurt that he caused. billy vangelis was going to pay.

"Welcome to the house, my boy."

He knew the boy was his and he would never stop believing it. The casino was about to become his new home and Jack was about to make sure that it was the only one Jonny had.

One-eyed Jack knew that suicide kings were wild - he met enough men that caused their own demise and they were nowhere near tame.

Headcanon: One-eyed Jack IS one of Jonny’s dads, but Billy Vangelis got full custody after the divorce and Jack remained bitter about it till the end

anon, this is an absolutely galaxy-brain take, you’re a genius

also it made me think of the dttm part where jonny says “it’s a lot harder than it looks not to end up in an emotionally-charged narrative climax where you murder your father” like YEAH BUD, I GUESS FOR YOU IT SURE IS

[serenagaywaterford]

6) a flip of the dime. The nasty parts were always there, but he concealed/controlled them. Maybe bc said parts wouldn't exactly make him endearing to others? Anyhow, your interpretation makes him quite the interesting antagonist/villain, so I'm rolling with it, lol. /// There was another thing that was bugging me about S2: the baby's name. Obviously, Serena chose Nic(h)ole as a "fuck you" to Fred. But June in the finale? Of course, she stuck to it for Nick's sake, but also bc she recognized

7) Serena’s selfless (well, if you can call it that) act. Thoughts on this? /// As for your older responses, I forgot to describe what an epiphany it was for me to realize the significance of Serena’s use of the word “rape” for the first time. The anger I felt after 2x10 blinded me to the VERY OBVIOUS connection between her realization in 2x10 and her outburst in 2x11. (Silly me!) Imagine how much more intense that fight would have been if they included the marital rape. I remember a writer

8) that June didn’t kill Serena, bc she actually felt sorry for her in that episode. (Ngl, June’s kindness baffles me at times.) I knew that she wasn’t gonna do it of course, but it was 50/50 whether I wanted her to shoot them or not. /// Something I have not addressed so far is how lukewarm I found their explanation for June getting away with all the shit she does. Well, she’s no Janine (who loses an eye) or Emily (who gets mutilated), but still. Like you said, Serena and Fred might get away

9) get away with a lot more bc of their privilege, but June? Hm. // I’ll start quoting later (or maaaybe tomorrow).

———–

I always thought that was a really weird sort of thing for June to do. And it seems to be entirely because of Serena? Like, it was Holly, Holly, Holly. Even when she was talking to Nick. Then she has the exchange with Serena, and suddenly she adopts Serena’s supreme dickmove of a babyname? 

And I LIKED Holly. It meant something. Nichole (I HATE THAT SPELLING SFM LMAO) means nothing to June? Can you imagine the convo: 

“Mommy, why am I called Nichole?”

“Well, baby, you see, your Daddy’s name is Nick, so the lady that stole you decided to name you after him to eternally piss off her husband who she clearly hates and wanted him to be reminded that he’s impotent every time he looks at you.”

Like, on the one hand, Serena is fucking brilliant and it just shows the extent of her hatred for Fred. But then it’s kinda shitty to use a child as a pawn in that.

Then again, maybe there’s another reason Serena chose that name? I know there’s like a whole history about St. Nicholas and his role as a patron saint of childless couples, or something. (I can’t recall exactly rn). And there was something about St. Nicolette and babies. (Which is where the names Nicole and Collette come from.) Something like she raised a dead baby back to life. So, I guess, at a stretch perhaps that was her inspiration? I doubt it, knowing Serena. LOL.

It’s really curious June’s decision though. Despite EVERYTHING Serena’s done, June just wipes it clean and names her fucking baby after Serena’s choice? Maybe she was trying to retain the memory of Nick for Nichole? I dunno. And not only that, but she seemed 100% genuine when she said that farewell blessing and held Serena’s hand (again). 

I dunno, June’s own preoccupation with Serena is something I don’t truly understand but she clearly thinks there’s some odd connection or something. It’s funny cos I was reading a review about S2 and June’s choices in the finale, and her constant support of Serena despite ALL the reasons not to, and lemme see if I can find it… 

 Nah. I can’t. Anyway, it was something about how we all know June’s going back for Hannah, but this writer thought June was also going back for Serena.

I’m not convinced about that tbh, but I can see the argument cos June is strangely protective and compassionate towards Serena considering. I just have a sinking feeling that the show is gonna play that “Oops, Serena is evil again!! SHE WAY MAD JUNE GIVE BABBY AWAY trolololol!!!!” and make her despicable in order to get Nicole back. If that is the case, I’m gonna roll my eyes right outta my head. I have no issue with Serena having regrets, tbh. I think that’s pretty understandable and expected. But having Serena go hogwild with abuse and using Fred’s power to get back at June or something is just going to fucking piss me off cos like, c’mon my dudes, been there, done that. Over and over already. It’s the 3rd season and either you’re gonna put this bitch on a mild redemption arc or you’re gonna make her a full-on villain. Make up your minds. The will-she, won’t-she thing is old by now.

I dunno that was a random OT rant.

Also, TRUTH! Serena’s use of the word “rape” was important. Like, part of me is like DUH how did you JUST figure that out?! And, honestly I feel like the marital rape is sort of necessary for Serena’s epiphany to get recognised. I think, Serena is just wilfully ignorant enough to not truly consider the Ceremony rape. I honestly do not think she totally understood what she was suggesting with the 2x10 rape. (Serena really does lack forethought for like…all of her actions. That’s sorta her whole problem.) I think she thought it would be just like a sort of unsanctioned ceremony. But by the end she did seem to recognise what it truly was. And having her raped by Fred in the previous episode would have really helped with that. (Then again, it’s really hard to understand how a woman who was just raped turns around and basically suggests it. And this person is supposed to be not Satan. A pure evil woman sure. But Serena’s not meant to be that.)

I think Yvonne’s delivery of the line was interesting too. Part of it was like, “HOly shit it was rape” and part of it was like, “ha! you’re a monster!! you did that!” Like she had no culpability in it. I want to know if Serena has realised that ALL ceremonies are RAPE yet. I wonder if she’s got there. I’m not totally convinced she has. But… I dunno.

Oh! I hadn’t read that about June’s reasoning! That’s interesting. I mean, it fits with June overall but it’s a very odd thing. Like, to be holding a gun trained on the couple that literally held you down and raped you not 24 hours earlier… and feel SORRY for the woman (whereas the general population’s consensus is that Serena is even worse than Fred for doing that to another woman)? I went and watched it after reading your message I didn’t really see that on June’s face. (But that’s really neither here nor there since editing, directing, etc. all differs from what the writers/showrunners had in mind and those are the guys doing the interviews!)  I take that back! I watched it again and I can deffo see that if that’s what they were going for. Totally missed it and likely wouldn’t have picked up on it if not for this convo.

That said, I totally see June reasoning it out that way. For some strange reason, whether it’s Stockholm Syndrome or whatever, June seems to have a blindspot/softspot for Serena and she seems to have unlimited Get Out Of Jail Free cards for her. Like, c’mon, she literally held her down to be brutally raped, and at this point it seems like Serena could murder June and June’s ghost would just be like, “Hey youuuuu, wanna be my bestie in overthrowing the patriarchy?” (Okay, I’m not at all complaining cos I love their dynamic and I ship them soooooo… lol. On a personal level, it works very well for me and my crackshippy fantasies. I choose to believe June honestly sees something nobody else does and believes in Serena’s capacity for redemption–WHICH IS INSANE. But hey. I love it.)

So, for June to feel sorry for Serena, even after everything really does fit when you think about it. And also when you think about book!June’s attitude towards true power being in forgiveness.

I remember sitting around watching the ep the first time and thinking “I don’t want June to shoot them and be a killer” but also, “WHY ISN’T SHE SHOOTING THE FUCKING PLACE UP! DOES SHE NOT WANT TO ESCAPE????” And I was sitting there with the wifey and she was like, “She can’t. What if she misses? Then you’ve got 2 incredibly angry people chasing you.” And I was like… “Uh. Reload? Shoot them as they’re coming up the stairs.”

Because I have never fired a gun in my life so to me it seems really easy lmao. But to me, I didn’t even care about her shooting Serena but I did have an inkling she didn’t want to shoot Serena with the amount she paused. That would have been a perfect shot with teh type of ammo to take out –or at least injure– two people at once. I was like, “You gotta kill Fred and Serena is pretty useless then. It’s not like they have mobile phones! You can then choose to leave Serena to die there lol, or hostage her. And steal the car. You could get pretty far since nobody knows that Fred/Serena are even there.” To me, rationally, it didnt’ make sense not to shoot them. But… emotionally, obvs, I knew she wouldn’t cos a)the series would like… end rather abruptly lol, and b) that’s just not June.

AND yeah, June getting away with all her bullshit is insane in comparison. Janine literally lost an eye for backtalking once at the Red Centre! June has, well, done so much more and just kind skates away from ALL serious punishment. (Well, living with Fred and Serena is a pretty awful punishment in general.) And, sure part of it was cos she was preggers but … how Aunt Lydia/Fred/Serena/TPTB trust this crazy Handmaid not to KEEP breaking the rules is insane. I feel like nobody would trust her to just be a docile little thing after running away for 92 days. Not even Pervy Freddo. Despite all his creeptastic fetishes, he’d be like, “OMG she is way too high maintenance. i just don’t have the patience. give me that baby so i can shut my annoying wife up and then get me another more docile babyslave to play Scrabble and shave!” The plot armour is strong in this one!

Anyway! I got a bit carried away there…