#worth it though now I can rotate him indefinitely

[ikachap]

Etho in blockbench?!?! Its more likely than you think...

(I am going insane its 4am)

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 9

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 9

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language.

Words: ~2000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8

Part 9

The smile on your face was stiff and insincere as Marcus Boyd walked you back to your car. As much as you loathed the asshole, you needed him and that meant paying him a personal visit in his home in Connecticut. He was a very successful defense lawyer, on his way to becoming a managing partner in a prestigious New York law firm in a few years. Because of his career, he had access to many seedy characters which is what you were here to leverage. You needed an unregistered gun, and he had connections who could provide you one. If that meant putting up with him for an hour, you were willing to do it.

“Y/N,” he said with a slick smile, standing next to you as you unlocked your car door. “It was wonderful to see you again.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you replied. “It never is. But we do what we have to, right?”

His eyes narrowed, shifting to something menacing. “I forgot how tactless you can be.”

You gave him a mocking smile. “Here’s hoping you won’t have to see me again soon.”

“Next time you need something, don’t come to me,” he warned.

“Same goes for you.” You leveled him with a cold look. “When can I expect a call?”

“A few days.”

“Fine.” You got into your car and shut the door, feeling relieved at no longer being around the slimy bastard.

Marcus was someone you met at college in your first year. He was a rich entitled sophomore, about to flunk out. You were good at hacking into things, and had managed to get your hands on a few exams Marcus desperately needed to pass. That was the beginning of your partnership with him. You helped him graduate and he paid you a lot of money in return. Thanks to him and his friends, you were able to get your degree with minimal student loans. Although the two of you despised each other, the threat of mutual destruction meant you trusted him to keep your search for a registered gun to himself and he trusted you not to spill his secrets.

You started driving back into the city, your mind focused on the road ahead when your phone pinged. You glanced down. An unknown number was calling you. If it was like the other anonymous calls you received, they would call you a fucking bitch as soon as you picked up and hang up on you. You had no doubt that it was Adam calling, considering the calls started after he was released, which only proved how unhinged he was. A smarter man would have been on his best behaviour when out on bail but he was so filled with rage he didn’t even bother to temper his actions. You had already reached out to the prosecutor and informed them of the calls, but you doubted it would lead to anything. Most likely Adam was using disposable phones, which meant there was no direct proof he was the one making the calls. You were scared, of course you were, which was why you’d reached out to Marcus even though you didn’t like the prick. It’s not like you could rely on Trevor, the bodyguard Roger had assigned to keep you safe. He was lazy and not very bright, and even if he was good at what he did Valiant wouldn’t be paying for your protection indefinitely. All of that meant you had to take this matter into your own hands. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the only way for you to feel safe again.

Your thoughts turned to Billy, something you actively tried to avoid, but there wasn’t anything else to distract your mind away from him. It had been a week since you blocked him, and as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him. He’d been a part of your life for almost a year and you really enjoyed his company before things got messy between you two. If you hadn’t developed feelings for him and then caught him on a date with Dinah Madani, you guys would probably still be sleeping together – but you did, and seeing him with someone like her made it crystal clear his lack of feelings for you. The truth hurt like hell, but you’d get over it. You were a realist after all. You knew he was out of your league and there was nothing you could do to make Billy want you.

The speaker on your car piped up with a message notification. It was a text from Davina, reminding you of the girls night out planned for tomorrow night. It was a mutual friend’s birthday and the plan was for all of you to go to a new club that recently opened. You were looking forward to it, mostly as it would keep your mind off Adam but also because you were hoping to go out and meet someone new. No doubt Billy had already found someone else to fill your spot on his weekly rotation but you weren’t built like him and needed time to process your lingering feelings. You still weren’t over him, but you were ready to move on.

Now you just needed to get back home and come up with a reason as to how you lost your bodyguard in case Roger asked. Somehow, though, you doubted Trevor would willingly tell Roger about you disappearing for a few hours so you weren’t too worried. No one knew about your connection with Marcus and you intended to keep it that way.

***

The next evening you, Davina, and a few others were at Pravda, a new club downtown, to celebrate your friend Kiran’s birthday. You were wearing a low-cut black jumpsuit paired with silver stilettos, while your lips were painted maroon. Choosing to keep focus on the lips, you had ensured the rest of your make-up was light and dewy which went well with your straightened hair. It had taken a lot of double-sided tape to make sure your breasts were in check in your outfit but it was worth the effort. You felt like a proper goddess tonight, surrounded by your beautiful friends at a private table in the VIP lounge.

An hour later you were buzzed, giggling and laughing as you and a few others headed back to the private booth from the dance floor. After dancing up a storm, you guys were all parched and desperate for a drink. Davina was holding your hand as she led you through the crowds but you knew something was wrong when she stopped unexpectedly. You thought you heard her swear but you couldn’t be sure due to the loud music.

“What’s-” The words died in your mouth when you realized what Davina was staring at. Billy fucking Russo, sitting at your table, chatting it up with Kiran who was sitting next to him. The moment you saw them, you felt red-hot anger flood over you. While Kiran was a good friend, she wasn’t someone you confided in. She had no idea you’d been sleeping with Billy so you didn’t blame her for flirting with him. But Billy, god you hated him! There was no way his showing up at the same club as you was a co-incidence, which meant he was purposely here to flirt with your friends. To hurt you.

“Want to leave?” Davina asked, looking at you with concern.

“No, it’s fine,” you replied in a clipped tone.

“Are you sure?”

“He’s here because he wants to piss me off.”

“I thought you said he was cool about the break-up.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Thought he was.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You didn’t answer, instead taking the lead to walk past her. You returned to your seat across from where he and Kiran were sitting. Davina came to sit beside you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as his molten eyes trailed down to your breasts, lingering on you. Dressed in a simple grey t-shirt, designer no doubt, and a pair of black trousers and open leather jacket, he looked absolutely beautiful with his perfectly styled hair and trimmed beard.

“Hey guys, this is Billy,” Kiran greeted, eyeing him appreciatively. “He ordered us more champagne. Isn’t that so nice of him?”

On the table in front of you was an expensive bottle, chilling in ice. You quirked your eyebrow. Apparently Billy was in the mood to splurge on your friends. “That’s nice of him,” you remarked noncommittally.

“Billy, this is Davina and Y/N,” Kiran said.

His eyes were locked with yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, I know Y/N very well.”

Kiran turned to look at you. “You do?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Through work.”

Billy leaned forward, his smoldering gaze holding you hostage. “Y/N and I are very good friends.”

“Acquaintances,” you corrected.

As if sensing the tension in the air, Kiran pulled away from Billy. Meanwhile, he picked up the bottle of champagne and started pouring the liquid in the empty glasses in front of him. “You’re giving Kiran the wrong idea about us, Y/N. She might think you don’t like me very much.”

“She’d be right,” you snarked, ignoring the glass of champagne he held out for you.

“I’ll take that,” Davina replied, snatching the glass from his hands.

Your friends were suddenly talking all at once but all you could focus on was Billy’s heated gaze on you. With every second that passed his eyes on you seemed to grow more wanton and lustful, and desire coursed through your blood at how he looked at you. You wanted him so badly you cold feel yourself getting wet, and you realized you needed to get out of there right away.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you whispered in Davina’s ear, making sure Billy didn’t hear you.

“Want me to come with you?”

“No. I’ll be fine.” You stood up quickly and made your way out of there, keenly aware of Billy’s eyes boring into your back.

Few minutes later you were sitting at one of the corner bar downstairs. This floor had a different ambience than the club upstairs, which you appreciated. The music wasn’t as loud and you found yourself enjoying the lounge vibe. It wasn’t long before someone crept up next to you at the bar and you turned to find a familiar face smiling back at you.

His name was Avi and you’d run into him a few times at the conferences you’d gone to. Broad-shouldered and husky, you’d always found him attractive in an adorable way.

“You just look…” he gave you a shy smile. “Wow.”

Seeing his reaction to you, you smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’ve always wanted to approach you but I didn’t want to come across as a creep, you know?” he explained. “You can also be very intimidating.”

That made you laugh. “I doubt that.”

As Avi and you continued to talk, you couldn’t help but enjoy how he was gawking at you. You didn’t fit society’s mould for what was considered beautiful, so all of your past flings were a result of the guys getting to know you and finding you hot because of your personality. It was rare when a guy you were attracted to was also into you right away but that seemed to be the case with Avi. You didn’t have to charm or work for him to find you hot. Instead, he was genuinely enamored with how you looked which was refreshing.

His phone rang with a text notification. Scanning through the message, he flashed you an apologetic glance. “Shit. I have to go.”

Disappointed, you pouted your lips. “That’s too bad.”

“Would you want to go out sometime?” he asked shyly.

“I’d like that.” You reached for your phone and scrolled through to the contacts app to add his name before handing the phone to him. “Add your number.”

After you said your goodbyes, you ordered your third gin and tonic and were enjoying your drink at the bar when someone grazed up against you. Seated on a high bar stool, you were expecting Davina to have come looking for you. Instead, you found Billy sidling up to you. He looked pissed off and angrier than you’d ever seen him.  

“Give me your phone,” he barked.

“Go to hell.”

Unexpectedly he gripped your stool and pulled you closer, throwing you off so you were forced to hold on to him for regain your balance. He perched his foot up on the bottom ledge of the stool, closing you in fully. “Unblock me now.”

‘Go fuck yourself.”

His dark eyes seemed to suddenly grow even darker, more monster than human. “Who was that guy you were talking to?”

“My future boyfriend.”

Billy’s lips curved into a sneer. “Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Why don’t you go back to flirting with my friend and leave me the fuck alone?”

“She was flirting. I wasn’t.”

“I don’t care. Go sleep with whoever you want, and I’ll do the same.”

Billy simply stared at you for a beat, his jaw clenched. “You’re not fucking anyone else.”

Sitting up straight, you leveled him with a hostile look. “I just met someone who was nice, sweet, and really fucking cute. And he wasn’t an asshole like you. Trust me, I will fuck him. I might even suck him off here tonight if he plays his cards right. And there isn’t a single thing you can do to stop that.”

He dipped his head towards you, leaning in closer so you were the only one who could hear him. His voice may have been flat, but his words were laced with cold fury when he spoke next. “If he touches you, he’s dead. I’ll start with his hands. I’ll break his fingers one by one for daring to touch you. Next I’ll cut off his dick, his balls, other parts of him slowly, carefully, so he feels every inch of the excruciating pain I’ll put him through. I’ll fill him with adrenaline so he doesn’t pass out from the pain. I’ll gouge out his eyes last because he needs to see that I’m the one who turned him into a mutilated lump of flesh. And then maybe, if I’m feeling nice, I might slit his throat to end his suffering.” His eyes never leaving yours, he reached for your drink at the bar and chugged it.

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” you said, your throat suddenly parched. Your heart was beating rapidly, your stomach coiled into knots. Fear should have flooded over you -  it didn’t. Instead, you were aroused.

“No one takes what’s mine.”

“I’m not your fucking possession. You don’t own me.” You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths as your emotions – and the walls – started to all swirl together. Like always, just when you thought he might have cared enough to admit he was jealous, he showed his true colours. Billy’s anger had nothing to do with his feelings for you. Rather, it was about his ego. Shit. You felt dizzy, the drinks had started to hit you. “Why don’t you go bother Dinah and her new man? Didn’t you say she was seeing someone else? Go pull your psychopath routine on them.”

He tucked his finger under your chin, lifting your face up to meet his gaze again. The emotions in his eyes played havoc with your senses as he pressed in closer, so close you could feel his warm breath on your skin.

“I don’t care who Dinah dates or fucks.”

The air was thick with tension.  It felt as if there was no one else in the bar but you and Billy, his one hand under your chin, the other pressed against the small of your back. You felt heady and light-headed with anticipation and desire, but you were also angry. Angry that you still wanted him, that he wouldn’t give you space to get over him. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”

His fingers gripped the side of your face, and you exhaled a sharp breath when he grazed your forehead with his. Temples touching, his eyes held you transfixed in place.  “Because you’re mine.” The possessiveness in his voice was unsettling, but it was the way he was staring at you – as if he could see right through to your core – that made your stomach flip-flop. “Mine.” His thumb swiped along your bottom lip, as if marking you as his. “And I’m yours.”

Billy was a player, an asshole, and there was comfort in that because it meant you knew where you stood with him, but now he was defying expectations, crossing the boundaries you’d carefully set for yourself, and you weren’t ready for that. None of that mattered, however, because you were suddenly feeling really, really sick.  “I have to go,” you mumbled. The room was spinning as you tried to jump off the chair but your knees almost gave way. Billy was there to catch you in his arms, holding you up.

“Woah, you okay?”

You pushed him off and ran.

Part 10

A/N - As always, thank you for the support, the feedback, the likes/reblogs, and the asks. I’m stoked to keep writing this because of you guys. Please let me know your thoughts on the chapter!

If you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list, drop me a note.

Tag List.

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gif-credit: @the-darkling

[iamtheempress]

A Vegeta x OC Fanfiction (part 2)¤ ¤ ¤

The morning came with silence and silence came with Raditz banging on Calamatta’s pod. 

“Wake up! we need to get our pods to the ship in the upper atmosphere then we start the terraforming process! Got it?” SHe stretches and gives the long haired Saiyan a lazy thumbs up. Confirming she heard him loud and clear. Rubbing her eyes she punched in the coordinates to the ship and off the four pods flew to the ship in the higher atmosphere, slotting their pods into the mothership.

The four took their time to leave 2 by 2 to the planet and scour the planet to completely terraform it, with expertise and precision. Cracking open the planet enough to let the oceans flow forth, for several hours they did this until they returned to the ship. Calamatta entered the ship last and was greeted with a crisp clap to the back from Nappa. “Good job, lil lady!” He bellowed as she rubbed the back of her head. “T-thanks Nappa, now im just worried.” 

Raditz raised his hand and shook his head, “Ahhh calm down, we're going to give him an honest review of you then you will be moved to our quarters, you get your first pay and then you should be good. Settle down.” He brushes past her and makes his way to Frieza’s Hall. Vegeta followed behind, throwing a glance at the female Saiyan as she sat on a chair, he can tell she was nervous by the frequency of her bouncing leg. They didnt like bending to Frieza’s whim, but they werent about to just go against him out right.. And with one more saiyan with them to train and get stronger they could be unstoppable. Its just the matter of pandering to Lord Frieza until then and making sure they dont get killed.

Lord Friezas chambers had only Zarbon blocking their way, the annoying green haired former prince with no shame. Dodoria, the brainless ruffian was nowhere in sight. “Monkeys.. Im assuming its about the release of Friezas little ape?” Zarbon said very condescendingly to the three, very annoyed Saiyans. Vegeta tightened his fist and grit his teeth at the comparison to apes so blatantly to his face.

 “Zarbon thats quite enough. Ive been expecting them.” Friezas voice piped up waving the three Saiyans in. “Y-yes, Lord Frieza.” He obeyed and moved out of their ways. “You are excused Zarbon, your services arent needed this evening.” Frieza rotated fully in his seat and swirled a full goblet of wine within it. 

The three took bended knee to Frieza begrudgingly and raised up at the same time. “Were here to confirm our Terraforming a rousing success.” Frieza smirked and paid attention to Nappa. “Indeed. It was to be a 4 to 5 day excursion and you done it in 2 and a half days? My my, you 4 are persistent!” He chided and pointed to Nappa first. Everyone is fully aware of Frieza’s death beam so Nappa winced. Causing Frieza to visibly inflate like an egomaniac. “Now what is your report about my favorite little monkey, Ms. Calamatta” He sipped his wine and let it hover mid air rotating it and lacing his fingers together and letting his long worm like tail wag lightly. Nappa took one step forward and spoke up, light sweat on his brow as he made eye contact with deadly bright vermillion eyes.

“Calamatta’s first time out with primary race extermination was exquisite. Effective and heartless. If she continues with us you should expect the same, Lord Frieza!” He did a full bow and stepped back for Raditz, The long haired teenage Saiyan cleared his voice and spoke up, starting with an embarrassing voice crack. “She took orders for sequences of events and how to lay waist to entire cities fairly quickly. I'd prefer her with us simply because she has a job to do and she seems to enjoy it.” Frieza slowly nods, eyes closed and speaks softly. “Mhmm. mmhmmm. You two are dismissed. Vegeta… you stay.” 

Frieza took his goblet and took a sip from it as the Prince narrowed his eyes and approached, puffing up his chest. “What do you think about the pretty little simian? Shes quite interesting… obedient and has grown to be a lovely young woman, shapely i think your repugnant species would call her... You are aware her father appointed her to me when she was a child, I'd assume Vegeta…?” He lets the wine glass levitate again, Vegeta stood with his arms crossed and brow raised. “Yes, Im aware...What is this about.” Frieza clicked his nails about on his seat and smiled softly.

“Her father did not trust his only daughter with the likes of the Kings eldest boy… Not after their fight… so she was appointed as my little monkey butler, a nice little piece of arm candy… if only she wasnt a Saiyan. Anyway… Enough with my little flights of fantasy…” He gestured to the confused Saiyan Prince, his lips lined straight and unmoving. “About Calamatta… How was she.. Your word I take higher then anyone else.” He preened upon saying her name, it was borderline perverted but with a sinister meaning behind it. 

“Shes the missed opportunity id like to get my hands on. A perfect Saiyan through and through. If she werent by your side so often id have taken her by my side YEARS ago, Frieza…” He stated as a matter of factly, Friezas dark little smile returned “How disgustingly romantic... Zarbon! Summon Calamatta for me.” He snaps his fingers and trot like tapping faded down the hallway. Zarbon was waiting outside, like a good little brainless lackey.

Calamatta was tapping on the table she waited at, tail flicking nervously about behind her. She was snapped from her stupor of nervous leg bouncing and hair twirling to Zarbon slapping his hand down firm onto the table. “Calamatta, Lord Frieza is requesting your return asap.” SHe nodded and fixed her hair abit standing up and wrapping her tail around her waist. Shes known Zarbon longer then shes known Dodoria. 

The kinship Zarbon developed for her was astounding, a favorable friendship when she felt immense discomfort in her teens on. It weirds her out and flatters her nonetheless. “Yes, Zarbon.. Right away.” She walks along side Zarbon and even passes Nappa and Raditz on their way back. “Ill have you know for the duration of time that I have known you; you are not like the others… youre charismatic and maybe the most tolerable, of the 4 of you...your  still nothing more than a monkey butler though.” She sneered and returned her gaze fixed forward, down then away. The moment she turned the corner she went wide eyed to see Vegeta. 

She stopped in her tracks and was given a push from Zarbon, Frieza chirped upon her entry. “Welcome back, Calamatta! I have some good news for you…” “Lord Frieza..” She bowed at the waist obediently she stood next to Vegeta and Zarbon once again excused himself.

“I trust that your first day terraforming was a success and that you had a splendid time, did you dear?” Calamatta stood up straight and let her tail unwind from her waist. “Y-Yes! I actually liked it alot!” She chirped and gulped abit, Vegeta scoffed and closed his eyes, only for Frieza to speak. “Oh, well you are not out of the woods yet my dear...no no.. You have one more task to prove to me before i let you do anything with the male populace for you to shake your pretty little tail at.” 

He makes a face and a screen pops up on the window behind him. A massive green, blue and red planet popped up on the screen encircled by 2 rings and 2 moons. “You and Vegeta are to Terraform this planet on your own. I will give you a month to do it because this planet has highly hostile inhabitants.” Vegetas eyes snapped open and stared at the planet then to frieza. “You cant be serious? Why not just send me on my own then i can do it 3 weeks without the likes of a newbie.. No offence Calamatta but its just facts.” He crossed his arms. “Do this the both of you for me in a months worth of time and your pretty little primate will be out of my hands and in yours. Indefinitely. But if not i will be forced to use my own hand… and you dont want that Vegeta..” He grinned widely. His pointer finger extended toward the female Saiyan and she gulped upon seeing the beam charge at the tip of his digit.

Vegeta stepped infront of the female Saiyan and narrowed his eyes, his move was more instinctual than out of emotion. Calamatta never thought the prince would ever put himself in a position like this but here he was, his solid back to her front she peaked over his caped shoulder and looked at the tyrant who tilted his head. "Hehehe.. it seems ive struck a chord in you Vegeta.." "Not at all.. she's done nothing for you to raise that finger at her. I've made the decision and well go…" he clenches his fists, the material of his gloves made a noise. Calamatta could feel the princes frustration from how close he was to her… "to that planet… and well wipe it before the month even finishes.." 

Frieza chuckled, "Good… i know you will fulfill your promise.. Calamatta you stay, dear.. Vegeta…" Calamatta straightened her back  and tightened her tail around her waist. "You are dismissed.. i have a few things to discuss with her." Vegeta turned around and made eye contact with Calamatta, with a pitiful look in his eye.. like he knew she shouldn't be in this situation. "Bye, Vegeta." She said softly, causing the Emperor to briefly narrow his eyes, she kept her head forward. Vegeta said nothing as the door slid shut behind her. Leaving without a word and kind of making her heart sink abit. He grit his teeth and stormed down the hallway to a perplexed Raditz and Nappa.

“Calamatta, come little primate.” Frieza beckoned to her and snapped for one of his little cronies to bring something to him. Folded up in the hands of Dodoria himself. “Hello little Matta, hope you enjoy this little costume change.” She nodded to him and took the body suit and armor. “When would i expect to go to this planet?” SHe tilted her head and held the new suit, noticing theres not much too it, which made her really wary. “Ah ah, first things first alittle bit of information is more useful about the planet then when you and the simian prince will go.” Frieza quips looking at his shiny black claws. “The planets name is To-Rot, it is a giant habitable planet that im sure would be able to line your pockets quite nicely.”

Dodoria crossed his arms and quirked a brow at her, “Lord Frieza told you about the type of inhabitants to that planet right? Its not a walk in the park and I certainly wouldnt go alone... “ Calamatta gulped. “Now now, Dodoria. Do not frighten the girl. Who knows she could be the best of the 4 remaining Saiyans. We will see..” He gets out of his pod like seat and uses his tail to tip her chin up, a small smirk still playing on his lips.

“Run along and change and you may turn in for the evening… you both leave in 20 hours, when we arrive to the nearest solar system. From there you and Vegeta will go To-Rot.” Frieza chuckles to himself. “Fitting name dont you think? Ohohohohohoooo !!” He laughs and Calamatta turns and bows walking back to the saiyan chambers to change.

¤ ¤ ¤

Tags:  @memevember @dragonblobz @gonuclear @msgreenverse @fallen--lilith�� @jimbobslurpnchug​ @dragonballzforlife​ @nikabriefs​ @lilhemmo​ @lizardhipsdontlie​ @hierophantblue​ @supremeleadershitlord​ @thotful-writing​ @chickiedinner​ @anti-jaina @dragonball-hcs-or-sum-shit​

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

oh baby, you could devastate me [one-shot]

moodboard courtesy of @reylocalligraphy

Rey works for the Admissions & Recruitment department at the University of Naboo because she loves her alma mater and never wants to leave. Kylo works for A&R because he's the disgraced former president of a for-profit university, and his mom told him to. When these two are paired up, things go... surprisingly well, actually.

Until they start sleeping together, that is.

For Day 5 - Alternate Universe of @reyloveweek.

Below please find nearly 10k words’ worth of a uni recruiters!AU. (Is that a thing? I’ve made it a thing. I apologize.) Also, my first M-rated fic ever.

Also available on AO3.

The summer after high school, Rey makes a two-hour drive to the nearest big city in order to attend a U of Naboo reception. It’s taken her all year to save up enough money for the trip, and she’s pretty sure it won’t lead to anything – this is the University of Naboo they’re talking about, and she only applied because her guidance counselor managed to get the application fee waived – but this might be the closest she’ll ever get to her dream school, and the forums tell her the food at these receptions are great, so off she goes.

She sits through an hour-long presentation, tries to pace herself at the buffet, and nearly smashes a plate full of tiny appetizers into the chest of one Amilyn Holdo, the provost herself.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry-” Rey stammers as she takes three steps backwards and sets her plate down on the nearest table. Half of the appetizers fell to the ground when she made a last-minute adjustment to avoid Holdo, and her cheeks burn with shame as two staff members rush forward to deal with the mess. She’s about to crouch down and help them when Holdo wraps one well-manicured hand around her elbow and gently pulls her away.

“It’s okay, Rey. I should’ve watched where I was going, really,�� the woman says with a smile, and Rey can only blink at her dumbly while she processes that sentence.

“You… you know who I am?”

“Of course I do! Your essay has been making the rounds at the university, you know,” Holdo tells her almost proudly, referring to the essay Rey hates herself for writing, the one that’s all about the sob story she never tells anyone, the one her guidance counsellor had assured her would get the attention of the scholarship department. “We’re really looking forward to having you join us this fall. And on behalf of the university, I’d like to be the first to congratulate you – in person – on winning the scholarship. It was a close call – we always get such strong applicants – but I fully believe you deserve it.”

And that’s how Rey learns that she’s won a life-changing full ride to the University of Naboo, courtesy of the Padmé Amidala Education Fund.

The next two months are a whirlwind of selecting her courses and uprooting her entire life and applying for part-time job after part-time job, but it’s all worth it – the past two months of planning and the past year of waiting and the past eighteen years of hard work – the second Rey sets foot on campus.

For the first time in her life, she feels at home.

A week before graduation, Rey gets an email that sends her sprinting back home.

“Finn!” she calls out to the empty apartment the second she gets home. “Finn! I got the job!”

Her roommate comes running out of his room and charges at her, picks her up in a huge bear hug and allows himself five seconds of excited, high-pitched squealing. “Me too! I just got the email!”

They scream in joy and dance around the apartment and pop open a bottle of sparkling juice that’s been gathering dust since their housewarming party three years ago.

A month later Rey and Finn show up for their first day of work at the Admissions and Recruitment department, a job that’ll allow them to stay in the safe and familiar bubble that is U of Naboo indefinitely even though they’ve just graduated.

Poe Dameron, head of the department and Finn’s longtime crush, takes it upon himself to personally show them around an office they’re more than familiar with and introduce them to staff members they’ve already known for years, thanks to their work as student ambassadors. “Best job ever,” Finn gushes in a low whisper when Poe reminds them that their work as recruiters will include a lot of travel.

The first few weeks go remarkably well.  They’re paired up with various members of the department to learn the ins and outs of the job, and their first major assignment – a briefing for that fall’s incoming students – goes off without a hitch.

By October, Poe decides they’re ready to travel.

“Rey, you and Jessika will be heading to Coruscant,” Poe tells her, and she bites on her lip to hide her smile when Finn lightly elbows her and excitedly mouths Coruscant!!! at her. “You’ll be hitting up a lot of high schools and a few education fairs, but I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it. And Jessika is one of our most experienced staff members, so you’re in good hands.”

“Finn,” their boss says next, and there’s no mistaking the apologetic look on his face. “This was totally random, we needed someone to pair him up with and he’s burned through half of the department already-”

“Oh, no,” Finn says, holding his hands up as he takes a step backwards. “No no no, please don’t say-”

“You’ll be heading to Canto Bight with Ren.”

Rey watches with equal measures of sympathy and amusement as Finn stomps his foot. “Poe,” he whines. “You know he hates me.”

“I’m beginning to think he hates everyone,” Poe mutters under his breath before he starts comforting Finn and assuring him it won’t be that bad.

It is that bad, Rey figures when Finn sends her four disgruntled texts within the first hour of his trip with Ren. Canto Bight is a city best described as an excess of extravagance, and Rey knows that Finn will instantly fall in love with the glitz and glam of the place. It’s a shame that he has to share the experience with Kylo Ren, the surliest member of their department and a notoriously difficult person to work with.

On their own flight to Coruscant, Jessika fills her in on Ren’s checkered past, the highlight of which has to be his involvement with a for-profit uni that turned out to be a scam. “They shut the whole place down, even threw the founder in jail, I think,” Jessica whispers over a dinner of surprisingly tolerable airplane food. “The only reason Ren didn’t go down with him is because they found out he really didn’t know anything about the scam. It was all Snoke and Armitage Hux, who was CFO of the parent company. Ren cooperated with the investigation and testified against them both, and when it was all over Leia Organa dragged him back home and insisted that he apply for a job here.”

“Leia Organa?” Rey asks in confusion, wondering why the President of the university would involve herself in something like this.

“Oh, I forgot,” Jessika sets down her cutlery and turns to Rey. “Mrs. Organa’s his mom. They try to keep it a secret, so that people don’t think she got him the job. Though really, if nepotism were involved you’d think Mrs. Organa could’ve done better than a lowly recruiter position in Admissions and Recruitment. Not that I don’t love our jobs, but… you know. The guy was president. And she’s the president. It’s obvious she wasn’t involved in this beyond making him apply.”

“Right,” she mutters absently as Jessika goes back to her food, her mind reeling from this new information. They don’t talk about Ren again for the rest of the flight, and when Rey lands she busies herself with catching up on her messages while Jessika takes advantage of the duty-free shops.

Worst job ever, Finn’s latest text reads. Pray you never get paired up with Kylo Ren.

Rey manages to go a full year before Poe comes to her with that all-too-familiar look of preemptive apology.

“Fuck,” she mutters as Poe hands her a file, unease pooling in her stomach. A year is plenty of time to hear all of the department’s worst horror stories about Ren, and she’s been dreading this moment ever since Finn’s first run-in with the man.

“I’m sorry, Rey,” Poe says, and she knows he means it but still. “He’s worked with literally everyone else, and not a single one of them is willing to do it again.”

That reminder really doesn’t help. “You’re making it worse,” Rey tells him as she flips the file open to find nearly a year’s worth of scheduled trips. “What the hell, Poe? You’re making me work with him permanently?”

“No! God, no!” he exclaims, taking the file from Rey. “This is Ren’s schedule, not yours. You’ll be heading to Coruscant with him,” Poe points out the details for the Coruscant trip, which seems to be more or less the same as the one she took with Jess a year ago. “And we’ll see how it goes from there.”

“What do you mean, we’ll see how it goes from there?” Rey asks warily.

Poe sets the file down on her desk and sighs. “Look, I’ve been watching you work for a while now and I think you and Kylo could really get along. Not as friends or anything, but I think if anyone in this office can work with him, it’s you. You don’t let others get you down, so I know he’s not going to depress you or anything, but you also don’t put up with bullshit, so he won’t be able to walk all over you.”

In some strange way, all of that is probably a compliment since it’s coming from her boss. But pretty words aren’t going to distract Rey from the matter at hand. “So this is a trial run for some kind of, what, permanent partnership?”

“Only if you’re okay with it,” Poe assures her. “I promise, Rey, if you really hate him then we’ll just go back to making him work with rotating partners. But I really think this could work, if you’d just give it a chance.”

Poe gives her those puppy dog eyes Finn is such a sucker for, and she caves with a heavy sigh. “Fine. One trip. And then we’ll see how it goes.”

Badly, Rey predicts as Poe thanks her. It can only go badly.

They decide to meet at the airport after a string of brief, to-the-point emails discussing their upcoming assignment. Ren is seldom in the office – god knows what he gets up to, but it’s not like anyone’s going to complain about not having him around – and the few times she’s spotted him skulking around, Rey has gone out of her way to avoid interacting with him in person.

Which means that when she walks up to him at the airport on a chilly October morning and introduces herself, it’s the very first time she hears his voice – his normal speaking voice, that is. Everyone in the office has overheard his occasional heated debate with Poe behind closed doors.

“So you’re the girl I’ve heard so much about,” Kylo muses as they shake hands, and the combination of his thoughtful tone and his low voice nearly knocks Rey off her feet. Isn’t this the guy who routinely yells at Poe about mismanaged funds and unnecessary trips? Isn’t this the guy who greets everyone with a scowl, then proceeds to ignore them as much as possible?

Flabbergasted, Rey turns to her default setting when meeting strangers: suspicious. “What do you mean?” she asks warily, pulling her hand out of Kylo’s when she realizes they’re sort of just…holding hands.

It’s not unpleasant.

Kylo shrugs; the motion looks out of place on his broad shoulders, too casual for a man who routinely stalks around the office and leaves a cloud of gloom and doom behind him. “Everyone in A&R loves you. Even Poe gushes about you all the fucking time. It’s like you’re God’s gift to this whole damn department.”

Poe does not gush – not unless it’s about Finn, anyway – but Rey’s too busy taking offense at that last muttered bit to contradict him on his claim. “I just care about my job,” she crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at Kylo, “unlike some people.”

He stares at her for a beat, something incomprehensible clouding his eyes while he scrutinizes her. Finally Kylo sighs, shakes his head, and throws a mumbled “whatever” over his shoulder as he turns his back on her and proceeds towards the check-in counter.

Rey feels oddly guilty as she scurries off to catch up to him, and she spends the rest of their time in the airport dissecting their brief conversation to figure out whether she was needlessly rude.

But this is Kylo Ren – the bane of their department’s existence, the asshole who insisted on referring to Finn by his employee ID. No matter how gentle or teasing or whatever his tone had been, none of what he’d said to her could possibly have been anything than a snide insult… right?

It’s a five-hour flight to Coruscant, which is all the way on the other side of the country. As soon as they’re in the air and the seatbelt signs are turned off, Rey reaches for her laptop and starts working on her slides for their presentation.

“This is a waste of time,” Kylo mutters as he flips through their itinerary. “Coruscant U is our biggest rival, and they’ve beaten us in the rankings for two years now. Anyone there with the grades and money to get into a top five uni has probably already applied and accepted an offer to go to CU.”

Rey bites her tongue, counts to ten, and plasters on some semblance of an encouraging smile – her best customer service smile, Finn calls it – before she turns to her downer of a colleague. “CU might have beaten us in pre-med and law, but we’re still globally #1 when it comes to the arts and engineering. We’ve also got more reasonable tuition, more famous faculty, and the biggest university library on this continent.”

Kylo shakes his head at her. “Sure,” he scoffs derisively, but his pinched features have given way to something almost like a smile. “Kids will definitely pick a university based on library sizes.”

“I did,” Rey shrugs as she goes back to tinkering with the size and color of her text. From the corner of her eye she sees Kylo still turned towards her, still watching her. There’s an awareness around his presence, of his presence, that she’s never really felt with anyone else. But then again, she’s never spent a full year hearing about and dreading and avoiding anyone else, either. That’s all there is to it, she tells herself.

“Did you?” Kylo asks after a while. “Pick U of N because of the library, I mean.”

“Among other things,” she says, as if U of N hadn’t become her dream school the day Luke Skywalker joined their faculty, as if the deciding factor had been anything other than a full scholarship. These are things Finn and Poe and Jessika know about her, things they earned with respect and friendship and common decency.

Kylo Ren hasn’t earned any of that, but he does earn some brownie points when halfway through the flight he turns to her and says, “That would’ve worked on me. Your pitch from earlier, about our arts program and our tuition and the library. It was a good pitch. I see why the department loves you.”

It’s the longest string of sentences she’s ever heard him put together, heated debates with Poe included. When she lands, a text from Finn awaits: how’s it going? I know he’s a monster but please don’t kill him, he’s sorta childhood friends with Poe and that would be awkward.

Rey sneaks a look at Kylo, standing by the baggage carousel after offering to wait for her bag if she’d get them both some coffee in return. When he catches her looking, he offers her the tiniest of smiles.

She smiles back and shoots off a reply to Finn. Surprisingly well, actually.

When Rey comes into work with a smile on her face a week later, Poe follows her to her cubicle with baited breath.

“So…” he produces a to-go cup of her favorite coffee and hands the blatant bribe to her nonchalantly. “How’d it go?”

She takes her time sipping her coffee, setting up her computer, pulling her planner out of her bag. When her boss starts wringing his hands in obvious unease, Rey tilts her head and allows her hair to fall forward and hide the smile tugging on her lips at Poe’s expense.

“Rey,” Poe finally snaps when she pulls up a blank document and pretends she’s going to start typing up her report right there and then.

“Oh, right,” she turns to him with an innocent smile, lets it widen into a grin when Poe huffs at her. “It went okay. You can go ahead and partner us up for the rest of the year.”

Poe blinks at her.

Rey stares back.

“Oh my god, you mean it?” he exclaims loudly, his voice drawing the attention of her cubicle mates. Poe clears his throat and pulls an empty chair up to her table. “Rey, you’re serious? You’ll do this for me?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Not everything is about you, Poe. But yes, your days of Kylo roulette are over. No more blindly selecting his next victim and getting all the blame for it.”

Poe draws even more attention when he lunges forward and picks her up off her chair, drawing a surprised yelp from Rey when he pulls her into a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The rest of the office casts them puzzled looks that slowly morph into expressions of sheer relief when Poe whispers the news into Jessika’s ear, who quickly spreads it like wildfire.

For the next week, Rey is treated like a benevolent goddess, sent from the heavens above to take pity on Kylo’s poor, tormented colleagues. Every single day there’s someone waiting to treat her to lunch (and a horror story or two about their time with Kylo), and no one steals any of her snacks from the breakroom as a silent gesture of appreciation.

The first few times she comes back from an assignment with Kylo, she’s painfully aware of everyone’s eyes on her, of everyone holding their breath and waiting for her to declare that she’s changed her mind and he can be someone else’s problem because she’s done.

It never happens, and slowly life at the office settles into a new normal – a ‘normal’ which now includes Kylo smiling at her whenever they’re both at the office.

The rumors shouldn’t come as a surprise, but they do anyway.

She remains blissfully unaware of the office’s favorite gossip topic for the first four months of their partnership. And then–

“Jessika thinks you and Ren are sleeping with each other,” Finn declares at lunch one day, prompting Rey to choke on her sandwich while Jess punches Finn in the arm.

“No, I don’t!” she cries defensively while Rey struggles to catch her breath in between bouts of coughing. “It’s just something Rose said about them. Right, Rose?”

Rose, who’d been in the midst of offering Rey a glass of water, freezes. “What? No, no, it was definitely not me. Snap, didn’t you say something about Ren the other day?”

Poor Snap stares at them with his best deer-in-headlights look and shakes so hard his fork clatters to the ground. “It’s just. He smiles. At you. A lot.”

“So what?” Rey rasps, her voice still scratchy from the coughing. She clears her throat a few times before adding, “I smile at all of you a lot. It just means we’re friends.”

“Yeah, buuut…” Jessika trails off with a shrug as everyone else shares a knowing look.

“He doesn’t really smile at anyone else,” Rose points out gently. “And the way he looks at you…” she sighs, looking dangerously close to swooning.

“Look, I hate to admit it,” Finn says quietly as he leans forward, blocking the others out from their conversation. “But Ren actually acts like a person around you. That’s got to count for something, right?”

“Oh god,” Rey groans, letting her head fall forward into her hands. “Not you too, Finn.”

Finn gets the message and forcefully changes the topic to his budding relationship with Poe – because he really is the best friend a girl could ask for – while Rey composes herself. She joins the conversation a few minutes later, and shoves all of these ridiculous ideas about her relationship with Kylo to the back of her mind.

The thing is… Kylo does smile at her an awful lot, doesn’t he? She’s never even seen him smile at Poe, and they’ve apparently been friends since they were in diapers. And there have been times, on the plane first thing in the morning or at the bar after a long day or even just on the way to their separate rooms, when they accidentally fall asleep on each other’s shoulders or their knees bump or their hands brush – times when Rey wonders, what if?

So two days later, when they’re having drinks together at a hotel bar in Corellia after a long day of briefing sessions, Rey finds herself saying, “The entire department thinks we’re hooking up.”

Kylo sets down his whiskey, a local variety he appears to begrudgingly appreciate. All of a sudden Rey finds herself wondering why she didn’t just ask about that instead of blurting out the first thought that came to mind. “And why is that?” he asks, turning around in his bar stool to face her.

“Just, you know,” Rey falters, swipes at the salt on the rim of her glass and absentmindedly licks at her finger out of habit. Somewhere between licking the salt off her finger and finding the courage to face Kylo, her brain finally catches up to her actions and points out, in a rather panicky and loud voice, just how obscene that gesture could be in the wrong situation – a situation like this one, where you’re discussing why your colleagues think you’re sleeping together.

In the dim lighting of the bar, she thinks she spots a smirk playing on his lips.

“Because you’re not an asshole to me,” she blurts out, shoving her margarita glass aside so forcefully the contents nearly slosh over the rim. “They think that just because we get along it has to mean something. You know, because you’re legendarily awful to everyone else.”

“Is that all?” Kylo raises one skeptical brow, because of course the man has perfected the single-raised-brow look. Rey suspects that in any other situation, it might be an effective manner in which to convey disappointment while still giving off an air of superiority, somehow. But in this case, it comes across as a challenge – familiar ground, then, in this odd partnership of theirs.

“There was something about the way you look at me,” Rey adds almost casually as she moves closer, turns to mimic Kylo’s position and shifts her feet to his footrest so that her legs are bracketed by his. He leans in, presses the length of his legs up against hers.

“How do I look at you, Rey?”

He’s warm where they touch and his voice makes her toes curl and still, still there’s that familiar glint of a challenge in his eyes even as they flit down to her lips for the briefest of moments before they move back to her eyes.

“You tell me,” Rey hears herself saying as she moves to the edge of her seat, close enough for her knees to graze the inside of Kylo’s thighs.

“Rey,” he murmurs, eyes searching hers as one hand reaches out to curve around her hip, warm and heavy and not enough. “Are we doing this?”

She backs away, hops off her stool and watches a flicker of disappointment flash through Kylo’s eyes before he sets his features into a polite mask. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed-”

“Kylo,” she can’t help but smile at him, at the way he perks up like an overeager puppy when she curls a hand around his arm and makes her intentions known. “Settle the tab. I’ll be upstairs.”

Then, for good measure, Rey leans in close enough for her lips to brush his ear and whispers, “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Kylo goes back to his own room after – they’ve still got some packing to do – and they don’t talk about it on the flight home the next morning. They talk, instead, about the whiskey he both hates and loves, about the father he both hates and loves. Somehow, it feels more intimate than what they’d shared the night before.

Two days later they find themselves in Jakku, and Rey finds herself drowning in memories when she’d rather be drowning in him. She sticks close to him as they make their way to their rooms at the one respectable inn the town has to offer, and as soon as Kylo opens his door she’s pushing him past the threshold and into bed.

After, while Rey stares out the window at the oppressive, suffocating sight of the never-ending wasteland she once called home, Kylo takes it upon himself to do some research on this one-horse town they’ve somehow found themselves in.

“Why are we even here?” he wonders out loud after going through some unhelpful data. Jakku is a tiny town, with an even tinier population. As far as prospective students go, they only ever get a handful of applicants at most each year. It makes no sense whatsoever for the university to have channeled any money or manpower here at all, let alone two of their best recruiters. “I know I said Coruscant was a waste of money, but this, this really makes no sense at all. Why did the department even–”

“It wasn’t the department,” Rey says quietly, her hunched back still turned to him, her unfocused eyes still staring out at the desert. “Necessity is the mother of all invention, right? That’s what they say, at least,” she shrugs, twisting slightly so that half of her face is visible to him, so that all of him is visible to her.

Kylo watches her with confusion on his face but patience in his eyes. Somehow he knows to set down his tablet, to crawl across the bed and move closer to her.

“Necessity is a fact of life here in Jakku,” she tells him, pressing her cheek to the sun-warmed glass as Kylo comes to sit right at the edge of the bed, just two feet away from the ratty old armchair she’s curled up in. “It’s all we ever know, from the day we’re left in this desert until the day we leave it. You’d be surprised what kind of innovation that can lead to.”

“You’re from here,” Kylo realizes out loud, his voice uncharacteristically gentle and hushed.

“I grew up here,” Rey murmurs. “I thought that all the things I did, all the things Jakku kids grow up knowing how to do, were just ordinary skills – or less than that, even, because none of us learned from proper schools or fancy textbooks or futuristic labs. And then I went to Naboo and I realized that none of this is normal, none of this is even close to average.”

Finally she tears her eyes away from the window, turns back to Kylo and his understanding eyes. “There are kids here who are just like me. Kids who’ve had to make do with scraps all their lives, kids who are more creative and intelligent and inventive than you could ever believe. They might not make it to Naboo– not everyone can be as lucky, even if they deserve to be – but I just want them to know that someone believes in their potential, that they have potential.”

She reaches for his hand, and Kylo tugs at her until Rey turns her back on the desert and moves back to him. “Let’s get back to work, then,” he says even as he pulls her into his lap and wraps his arms around her waist. “I want this to be our best presentation ever. They deserve that much.”

Rey smiles, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him slow and lazy. “You’re not all bad, Kylo Ren,” she declares with a grin.

“Call me Ben,” he murmurs against her lips, pulls her back in and holds her close.

They don’t talk about it.

They don’t talk about it when they fall asleep in each other’s arms, or when they wake up and head to the airport together. They don’t talk about it when they run into each other at the office, or around campus. They don’t talk at all outside of work, in fact, and even at work they only ever discuss upcoming assignments.

But it works, somehow. Rey knows it can’t last, knows Kylo – call me Ben, he’d told her, but somehow she knows that only applies to very specific situations, the ones they don’t talk about – probably never meant for it to. But for now, as long as they’re traveling every week, as long as they can disappear into a world of their own every now and then, it works.

Two months after that first night in Corellia, they find themselves in Kylo’s birthplace of Hanna City, Chandrila. He’s tense the entire flight there, grumpy as hell when they land, and he outright ignores anyone who recognizes him.

Their presentation at the local high school is… difficult, especially when one of the teachers turns out to have been a classmate of Kylo’s back in the day and keeps trying to rope him into some reminiscing. After, when they’ve dumped everything back in their rooms and Kylo suggests hitting up the hotel bar, Rey comes up with a different idea.

“There’s a beach here, isn’t there? And the sea?” she asks, going through tourist attraction pamphlets on his coffee table while Kylo changes out of his work clothes.

“Rey,” he pokes his head out from around the bathroom, “I’m not exactly in the mood for sightseeing.”

She neatly rearranges the pamphlets, stands up and crosses the room to lean against the bathroom doorway while he finger-combs his hair. “Please, Ben? I’ve never been to the beach.”

Kylo catches her eye in the mirror, sighs and turns around to face her. “Only because you’ve never been,” he tells her and then adds, with an unexpected tinge of hometown pride, “and because Hanna City has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world.”

The beach closest to their hotel, the one his parents used to bring him to as a toddler, truly is beautiful. It’s too bad that Rey is too busy making out with Kylo and laughing at his muttered complaints about sand to pay much attention to it.

“Can’t do anything in this fucking sand,” he mumbles against her neck as if she hadn’t grown up in a desert, and then he picks her up and carries her away from the beach, Rey shrieking with laughter and poking fun at him the entire time.

Together they travel the country and even some neighboring nations, and between it all they don’t even trade so much as a text message while they’re home. For their grand finale that summer, before the freshmen come pouring in and it’s all hands on deck back home to welcome the students, Poe sends them off on a months-long international trip.

Not going home between trips means no sudden silences, no prolonged absences. Rey loves every minute of it, loves having Ben as her one constant while they jet from one foreign place to another and deliver their well-rehearsed presentations and speeches.

And Ben – well, Ben seems to like it just as much, because by the time they reach their final stop, he has no qualms about wrapping an arm around her waist as they walk into their hotel.

Maz’s Castle is said to be the finest hotel in Takodana, and any questions Rey had about why the department had shelled out the money to put them up here are laid to rest the second a tiny old woman heaves herself up on the counter.

“Ben Solo! You don’t write, you don’t call, and when you finally do visit you bring along some pretty young thing instead of that handsome uncle of yours?”

“Hi, Maz,” Ben smiles as they reach the counter, and he lets go of Rey to hug the tiny woman who’s apparently the Maz Kanata. “Uncle Chewie says hi, of course. He misses you.” Even with her perched on the counter, Ben still has to bend down to reach her. It’s adorable, Rey thinks. She’s adorable, all tiny and wizened with glasses that look more like goggles and lenses that give her the illusion of goldfish eyes.

Those goldfish eyes stop being as adorable when they’re focused on her. “So, this is the girl you’ve chosen to bring home to your aunt Maz,” she says to Ben as she studies Rey from head to toe. It’s unnerving, it’s as bad as all of her nightmares about running into Leia Organa, and it takes what feels like an eternity but is probably less than a minute.

Maz nods decisively, holds out her hand and yanks Rey into a surprise hug when she reaches for a handshake. “Welcome, dear. We’re so happy to have you here.”

“Um, thank you,” Rey says, smiling despite her confusion. She catches Ben’s eye over Maz’s shoulder and does her best to convey how lost she is, but Ben simply shrugs and mouths just go with it, grinning all the while.

It makes him look boyish and happy and young. Young, happy, boyish Ben Solo does things to her, things she should not be contemplating while an ancient woman is hugging her.

“Okay!” Maz scoots backwards and hops off the counter, climbs up a stepstool and adjusts her glasses as she types something into the computer. “Knew you were coming, so I’ve prepared a special surprise for you,” she tells Ben conspiratorially. “Our best cabin by the lake! It’s a beautiful lake, and there’s a lovely view of the forest too, you’ll just love it,” the little old lady assures Rey with a wink.

“Maz, you didn’t have to–” Ben begins to protest.

“Of course I didn’t have to, darling, I don’t have to do anything and haven’t for a very long time now,” she sniffs almost imperiously. “But I wanted to, and so I did. Now off you go, I have better things to do around here than squabble with you Solos. Lovely meeting you, dear,” Maz tells her, and with one last nod at Ben she motions for a young woman to replace her before disappearing into a door at the end of the check-in counter.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Solo. It says here that you’ll be staying in one of our lovely lake cabins for the next–”

Rey is painfully aware of how rude she’s being, but she can’t stop herself from turning to Ben to whisper, “Mr. and Mrs. Solo?”

The smile he gives her is pinched. “Maz’s idea of a joke,” Ben tells her flatly, and they don’t speak of it again as the woman finishes her introductory speech and hands them their keys.

There’s barely time to appreciate the cabin before they’re rushing to get showered and changed for the evening’s reception, and they take turns using the hair dryer while making last-minute changes to their Welcome to life in Naboo! presentation.

The rest of the day is a blur of coordinating with hotel staff and welcoming attendees and mingling with alumni, and by the end of the night they’re both so drained from traveling and interacting and presenting that they end up just falling into bed and dozing off almost immediately.

Rey dreams in disorientating snippets that night, jump cut after jump cut with barely anything in between, just a never-ending series of hotels and smiling receptionists and bookings made under the name Mr. and Mrs. Solo.

She wakes to the sound of birdsong, the gentle warmth of diffused sunlight, and a hand between her thighs.

“What time is it?” she asks in lieu of a good morning, moving closer to Ben without opening her eyes.

“Nine,” he murmurs against her bare skin, presses a kiss to her shoulder as his free hand snakes underneath her to cup her breast. “Still three hours before we have to be at the airport. Plenty of time to spare.”

Rey blinks as the world slowly comes into focus, smiles to herself at the sight of Ben’s eager hands moving underneath her tank top and pushing her underwear aside. She lets him work in silence for a while, helps him along by reaching down to take over when he finally slips two fingers inside her.

Ben nuzzles into her neck while they move in tandem, a well-practiced team at this point when it comes to preparing her for him. He speeds up when her breath starts coming out in sharp little gasps, slows down when she finally melts into him and turns around to blindly place an appreciative kiss somewhere on his upper arm. Rey knocks his hand aside while she regains her breath, and he takes the opportunity to properly divest the both of them of what little clothing they’d worn to sleep the night before.

“Like this?” Ben asks when Rey starts squirming against him, her back to his front, and waits for her to hum a small mm-hmm before he lines them up and pushes into her as if they have all the time in the world.

She tries very hard not to think of the fact that this is their last trip together for the foreseeable future, that this might be the last time she’ll ever get to share this with Ben. But it’s soft and slow and he’s whispering sweet nothings into her hair, and all Rey can think of is Mr. and Mrs. Solo and the fact that Ben has never once shown even the slightest interest in meeting up with her back home.

“You okay?” Ben murmurs, and Rey realizes that at some point she’s stopped moving with him.

“Perfect,” she claims, turns around to give him a smile and a chaste peck before she reaches for the hand around her hip and moves it to press down on her lower abdomen, right over the bulge of him inside her.

Ben moans at the feeling, his breath warm and ticklish on the sensitive skin right under her ear. Rey presses as close to him as humanly possible, clutches at his arm and begs him to go harder, bites back the desperate plea bubbling up her throat to make me forget, please, Ben, make me forget this is the last time make me forget this isn’t forever.

“Rey–” Ben chokes out her name, snakes his hand down to where she needs him. “So close, sweetheart.”

Their time together is drawing to a close, and Rey realizes with a burst of panic that she’s been so worried about it ending that she hasn’t taken the time to fully appreciate it, to feel everything and commit all of it to memory. She closes her eyes and makes a conscious effort to clear her mind of everything but this, everything but Ben and her and how they feel together.

“Me too,” she whispers as Ben’s movements start growing erratic, his lips dotting little kisses along her neck as he rubs tight, frantic circles into her clit.

He comes first, muffles a loud Rey by sinking his teeth into her shoulder. The intimacy and bittersweetness of it all pushes her over the edge not long after, and Rey twists uncomfortably in Ben’s arms to bury her face in his neck as she falls apart.

The sun has climbed higher now, past the canopy of trees. When Rey finally gives in to her aching muscles and turns back, she glimpses a thousand dazzling pinpricks of light dancing on the surface of the lake in between the gaps of their curtains.

It’s beautiful, and Rey mourns briefly for the fact that they didn’t even have the time to appreciate the view during their short stay.

She wants to voice her thoughts, wants Ben to hold her tight and promise her they’ll come back here someday and see everything together. But her phone goes off before she can come to a decision, an alarm set for 9:30 lighting up her screen, and suddenly it’s time to shower and pack and grab something to eat.

In the cab, on the way to the airport, Ben wraps an arm around her and looks at her with a tiny little furrow between his brows. “Are you okay? You’ve been a bit quiet this morning.”

“I’m great,” Rey assures him with a plastered-on smile, the one she hasn’t given him in months. It doesn’t set him at ease. “Just, you know, thinking about home and the office and real life. It’s going to be weird, adjusting to everything again.”

Ben’s arm slips from her waist and he retreats to his side of the backseat. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking out the window. “Weird.”

She knows that today’s the end, knows that it’s time to slowly start the adjustment process, but a part of her had hoped that Ben would at least play along until they land in Theed. Instead he pulls away from her at the first mention of their lives back home, and for the rest of the journey they barely talk aside from the occasional inane comment about last night’s reception.

At the baggage carousel, Ben wordlessly picks up their bags and hands Rey her carry-on and her suitcase before he shoulders his weekend bag and checks to make sure that his common black luggage is actually his.

“All right,” he says once he’s satisfied with his inspection, straightens up and runs a hand through his hair, looks at her without ever really meeting her eyes. “See you around, Rey.”

And with that, he walks off.

Finn comes over later that night with their usual celebratory Chinese to welcome her home. The minute he catches sight of her red-rimmed eyes, he turns around and walks back the way he came. “I’m going to kill that bastard,” he seethes, and Rey rushes out of her apartment barefoot and clad only in an oversized tee-shirt to stop him.

“No, Finn, come back. It’s not his fault,” she says weakly, pulls her best friend back into the safety of her home and locks the door behind her.

“You come home after two months with Kylo ‘Asshole’ Ren only for me to find you crying your heart out and somehow you expect me to believe it’s not his fault?” Finn demands, albeit gently.

“It really isn’t,” Rey insists, swiping at her eyes while she attempts to focus on unpacking the food he’s brought. “It’s just… it’s me. This one’s on me. God, Finn,” she chokes on a sob, slams down a pair of disposable chopsticks so hard they snap in half. “How could I have been so stupid?”

Finn rushes forward and pries the chopsticks out of her hands, inspects her for splinters before he guides her to the couch. “Hey. Talk to me, peanut. What’s going on here?”

The thing is, Rey’s been keeping it together – somewhat. Sure, her heart had broken at the sight of Kylo walking away from her at the airport. And fine, so maybe she had cried a bit while unpacking her bags only to be greeted with little memories of their time together. But for the most part, she’s been fine – up until Finn turns those big, worried eyes on her, calls her peanut, and pulls her into a familiar, comforting hug.

She clutches at his shirt and muffles a wail against his chest, and it’s like she’s opened the bloody floodgates because no matter how hard she tries, she can’t stop crying for even one fucking minute to give Finn a much-needed explanation.

Finn, to his credit, just holds her tight and runs a soothing hand up and down her back until she calms down.

“I’m gonna get you some water,” he says when Rey finally pulls back, diplomatically giving her a private moment to wipe her tears away and blow her nose.

Rey takes the glass from him with a shaky smile, sips at it while she tries to gather her thoughts and Finn turns the TV on but keeps it on mute. Finally, she settles into her nest of pillows on the far side of the couch and regards her best friend – her first friend, her oldest friend. He might well be the only person on Earth she’ll ever be able to admit this to, and so she does.

“I love him, Finn,” Rey confesses in a whisper, and it’s as much a revelation to herself as it is to Finn. Somehow, she hadn’t known the full extent of her feelings right up until the very second those words decided to escape her.

“I love Kylo Ren, and he doesn’t feel anything for me.”

Rey has spent her whole life studying the mechanics of addiction, trying to figure out how her parents could’ve been so far gone as to abandon their own child in the name of their endless quest for alcohol. She’ll never fully understand them, but she likes to think that at least this way she’ll never be like them.

But the part of Rey that misses him, the part of her that craves him the way her parents must’ve craved their next drink… that part of her isn’t something she’s proud of, but it isn’t something she can deny either.

So when Poe hands her a proper assignment sandwiched between a dozen on-campus student engagement activities, Rey jumps at the chance to see him again, to be near him again, even if it’ll only break her heart even more. All she wants is another hit, no matter the cost.

She wakes up bright and early on the first day of the Naboo Education Fair, held on the first week of October every year. The U of N booth is basically the fair’s crowning jewel, and every year the department sends two senior staff members to supervise the student ambassadors on their first day to make sure everything’s properly set up.

It’s her first time being assigned to the fair, but Rey barely even notices. She gets in the car an hour before she needs to leave, drops by the nearest café to pick up drinks for the both of them. There’s a joke around the office that Kylo is definitely the kind of person to drink coffee as black and bitter as his soul, but none of them have seen Ben fumbling with his coffee first thing in the morning, scooping in lump after lump of sugar and creamer until the drink is practically a dessert. It takes Rey a good five minutes to modify the drink to his liking, and as she walks out of the café she takes pity on the poor, horrified barista.

At ten to eight, Rey strolls into the office fully prepared to give Kylo a polite smile along with his cup of coffee, to pretend that he didn’t break her heart.

Instead, she finds herself face to face with Jessika Pava.

“Jess! What are you doing here?” Rey asks, her eyes discreetly scanning the rest of the office for Kylo even as understanding dawns upon her.

“Isn’t this exciting? Poe just called me yesterday, said Ren has something else to do and asked me to cover for him. I said yes soon as I heard what it was for and who I’d be partnered with. We haven’t worked together in ages! Oh, is that for me?” Jess asks, reaching for the cup of coffee.

“Um, I mean, you can have it. But be careful, it’s–”

Rey scrunches up her nose as Jess chokes down the coffee. “Holy mother of diabetes, what is this?” she asks, holding the cup at arm’s length. “It’s worse than one of those Starbucks frappes.”

“It was for Ren,” Rey mutters, taking the cup from Jess as they make their way outside.

“Was it a prank? Rey, that’s brilliant!” Jess laughs as they make their way to the sidewalk. Rey should’ve noticed Jess’ car parked out front, she realizes as she dumps the contents of the cup into a patch of grass before throwing the cup itself into the trash.

They decide to take Jess’ car – Rey puts up significantly less of a fight than she normally would have, but Jess doesn’t notice – and she uses the rest of the hour-long trip to the convention center to snap herself out of it and dive into work.

She ends up volunteering to supervise the fair for the rest of the week, but she needn’t have bothered – Finn tells her Ren doesn’t show up at the office the entire week, and Poe explains that he’s been borrowed by the President’s office for a bit since they’re short-staffed this semester.

Rey doesn’t buy it for one second, but it’s not like her opinion matters to him anyway. She throws herself into work, takes charge of every assignment that’s up for grabs, and somehow manages to make it all the way to Christmas before she sees Kylo again.

Well, see isn’t exactly the right term for it.

She catches a glimpse of him at the office holiday party, towering a full head above everyone else, and her heart starts beating so fast it physically hurts. Kylo turns around, definitely sees her too, because before she can gather up the nerve to say hi his head is bobbing away in the opposite direction.

He avoids her for the entire night, as if to really drive home the point that whatever they had is in the past now. Rey gets the message loud and clear, but that doesn’t stop her heart from aching for him anyway.

God, she misses him so much, and he can’t even be bothered to say the briefest of hellos to her. How are they ever going to work together again?

Even worse – what if they never work together again?

January rolls around and with it comes a new travel schedule.

To Rey’s surprise, she finds she’s been partnered up with Kylo again. To her total and utter lack of surprise, he goes ahead and boards the plane separately, greets her with a curt nod, and doesn’t say anything to her for the entirety of their flight to Canto Bight.

Canto Bight is too loud, too bright, with too rich kids ready to throw an obscene amount of money at Naboo as long as it means getting into a top five school and getting their parents off their backs. Rey hates every second of it – hates how her cheeks start to hurt from her fake smile, hates how some of the prospective students are clearly paying more attention to her body than her slides, hates how Kylo doesn’t say a single word to her all evening.

He comes to stand by her side as she thanks the attendees and wishes them a good night, and every single fiber of her being reacts to his physical proximity in a way that makes her want to tear her heart out and throw it into the ocean.

“So,” one of the rude douchebags from earlier saunters up to her, gives her a clear once-over as he picks her business card up from the table, “guess I’ve got your number now.”

“My work number, yes,” Rey says, feeling her smile start to crack as the rest of the boys join their friend. From the looks on their faces, she’s in for even more insufferable bullshit.

“So, Rey – I can call you Rey, right? –, how old are you, anyway?” a second boy asks, his friends snickering behind him as they jostle each other in a playful manner. “Because I think older chicks are pretty hot,” he adds with a smirk before Rey can so much as roll her eyes, and the rest of his entourage howls with laughter and drawn-out calls of ayyy.

An arm snakes its way around her waist, and the boys seem to take a collective step backward as Kylo moves forward. “So, how did you gentlemen enjoy the presentation tonight? I trust you found my wife’s slides very informative, since you don’t appear to have any actual questions about the university.”

Wife, he says so casually, as if it doesn’t hurt like a dozen knives through her heart, as if she hasn’t been haunted by Mr. and Mrs. Solo for the last five months.

The kids back off, stammer something about the presentation and yeah it was super helpful really looking forward to uni okay good night bye, and suddenly she finds herself all alone in a darkened hall with no one but Kylo, his arm still tightly wrapped around her waist.

Rey shakes him off and storms over to the table to collect what’s left of their course catalogues and pamphlets. “I could’ve handled that myself,” she mutters when Kylo’s shadow falls over the table.

“Well, it was taking you a while, so I thought I’d speed things up,” he bites back, stuffing their business cards and pens and sign-up sheets into his messenger bag.

“By pretending we’re married?” Rey confronts him, and makes the mistake of looking up just as he steps into her personal space.

Kylo grits his teeth, his jaw tense as he avoids her eyes. “If I had known that the mere thought is so abhorrent to you, I would’ve kept it to myself. My apologies.”

He snatches the pile of catalogues from her hands and storms off, and something about the sight of his retreating back just breaks her.

“Don’t you dare!” Rey calls out, picks her bag up from the floor and abandons the rest of their stuff to stalk after him. “You’re not walking away from me again, not after saying something like that.”

“Like what, Rey?” Kylo turns on her when she catches up to him at the bank of elevators, and for all the emotions she’s seen on his face, for all the tales she’s heard of his anger issues, the sight of him angry at her nearly knocks her off her feet. “Like the truth?”

“What do you even–” The doors open with a soft chime, and she follows him into the elevator. “What truth, Kylo? Because all I heard was you assuming that you know how I feel about you or marriage or anything! How the hell would you know the first thing about me after avoiding me for five months?”

Kylo stabs the button for their floor and backs himself up against the opposite wall, putting as much space between them as possible in this tiny metal box. “What was I supposed to do, Rey? Hang around the office and wait to see you walk in and out every day the way you walked in and out of my life? Did you really think we could go back to being whatever the fuck we used to be after you made it clear that our time together meant nothing to you?”

“Oh my god,” Rey yells as they storm off the elevator, “what even the fuck are you talking about right now? I made it clear? You’re the one who said see you around and turned your back on me!”

“Because you dumped me!” Kylo growls as he swipes his keycard into the slot, and Rey is so taken aback that she doesn’t move in time to follow him before he shuts the door in her face.

He thinks she dumped him. Ben thinks she dumped him, and he’s been… nursing his wounds for the past five months? Avoiding her because he was hurt?

“Ben!” She knocks on the door, starts all-out pounding her fists against it when he fails to open up. “Ben, let me in. Let me in right now, you impossible, unbelievable, idiot of a–”

She doesn’t notice the tears streaming down her face until he opens the door and stares at her in horror. “You’re crying. Why are you crying?”

“I’m crying because you’re an idiot and you broke my heart,” Rey says bluntly as she shoulders her way past him and stomps into the room.

“Rey–” Ben closes the door behind him, leans against it as he watches her pace the length of his room.

“How the hell did I dump you?” she demands, still pacing. “Explain. Now.”

Ben walks towards her almost warily, each step slow and deliberate and cautious. “That morning in Takodana… you were so quiet, so off. And then you said all that stuff about getting used to normal life again, and I just… I knew – I thought – you meant life before us. Life without me.”

Months. For months they’ve both been in pain because of a stupid misunderstanding. “Ben,” she sobs, brings a hand up to her mouth to muffle her cries.

“I waited,” he tells her, moving close enough to sit on the edge of the bed. “For you to call, to visit… hell, I would’ve been happy with a text, Rey.”

Rey stares at him while the gears in her brain grind to a sudden halt, and then she’s throwing herself at him and rolling them towards the center of the bed. “I missed you,” she gasps, taking his face in her hands, “so much,” tears obscure her vision as she leans down to kiss him, “every day.”

Ben brings a hand up to wipe her tears away. “Then why didn’t you–”

“I thought you didn’t want anything more! I thought I was being stupid and sentimental and–”

He stops her right there, pulls her down for a kiss and rolls them over until he’s all she can see, all she can feel. “I want more. I want everything with you, Rey.”

“Good,” Rey smiles, chokes on a laugh as she threads her fingers through his hair, “because I love you, and I want everything with you too.”

Ben laughs, leans down to press their foreheads together. “God, we’re such idiots. And I love you too, sweetheart.”

. . .

In the morning, Rey scrunches up her nose in delight when Ben greets her with an Eskimo kiss and burrows into his side.

“Now what?” she asks with a smile as Ben laces their fingers together.

He sits up straight, puts enough distance between them to look her in the eye. “We could get married. I mean, when in Canto Bight…”

Rey stares at him in wide-eyed shock until she spies a familiar gleam in his eyes. “You’re joking,” she calls him out, half-relieved and half-wary.

“You did say everything,” Ben reminds her very seriously, manages to keep the act up for a whole ten seconds before he gives in to the grin tugging at his lips. “But yes, I’m joking. For now, anyway.”

Rey tugs him down for a kiss. “Let’s revisit that in a couple of years,” she suggests.

(They do.)

Gods above and below, I thought this fic would never end! Look, at this point most of you probably know I always end up running over my self-imposed word limit. That's normal, I've gotten used to it. But this was a projected seven thousand words at most, and now it's nearly ten. It's ridiculous, even by my standards.

Also this is my first M-rated fic ever. Yeah, you read that right: after more than a decade of tame fics, I sinned for this ship. And you guys. Mainly you guys. Feedback would be great, but also maybe let's never talk about this again while I go burn in the eternal flames of my shame?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. As usual, thank you for reading and I'd love to hear from you guys so don't hesitate to like/reblog/comment/etc.

[jodyedgarus]

Which NBA Playoff Teams Have The Most Star Power?

The NBA playoffs can sometimes come down to key role players knocking down clutch shots in important moments. But mostly, it’s all about the stars. The league revolves around its top players more than any other sport, and those players usually determine where the championship resides each season.

So which playoff team has the most star power? One way to measure this is to break players into tiers based on their performance metrics. A few years back, my boss Nate Silver devised a system called “star points,” which awarded teams a score based on how many stars it had on its roster. Players in the top tier of stars (“Alphas”) are worth 3 points apiece, those in the next (“Betas”) are worth 2, and the lower tier (“Gammas”) are 1 apiece. Teams generally need at least 5 of these star points in total to begin thinking about a title run, and 7 star points is where a championship roster really begins to take form.

Perhaps surprisingly, there aren’t any teams with 7 or more star points this season. The Golden State Warriors would have had 8 if DeMarcus Cousins hadn’t been injured Monday night, but Cousins is out indefinitely with a torn quadriceps and may miss the rest of the playoffs. That drops the Warriors into the co-lead with 6 star points, alongside Toronto. And that could mean a more wide-open postseason than we’ve been used to, in which role players might take on an even greater degree of importance.

To calculate star points this season, I turned to the constantly updating player talent ratings from our CARMELO projection-system depth charts. (In the previous iteration of star points, Nate used an amalgam of various advanced metrics, but that was before our player ratings updated in-season.) After resetting the cutoffs for each tier to maintain a similar number of players of each type,1 I found that the NBA has six current Alphas (four of whom are active in the playoffs), 13 Betas (12 of whom are in the playoffs, but one of those — Cousins — is injured) and 17 Gammas (13 whose teams are in the playoffs, with two injured).

The NBA’s championship-caliber players, 2019 edition

2019 NBA player tiers based on CARMELO-projected plus/minus talent

ALPHAS BETAS GAMMAS PLAYER TEAM +/- PLAYER TEAM +/- PLAYER TEAM +/- Harden HOU +8.0 Westbrook OKC +5.3 Leonard TOR +3.7 Antetokounmpo MIL +6.9 George OKC +5.2 Horford BOS +3.4 Jokic DEN +6.8 Gobert UTA +5.1 Green GS +3.3 Curry GS +6.6 Paul HOU +4.9 Nurkic* POR +3.3 James LAL +6.3 Towns MIN +4.9 Holiday NO +3.2 Davis NO +5.8 Lillard POR +4.7 Simmons PHI +3.1 Durant GS +4.6 Oladipo* IND +3.1 Vucevic ORL +4.5 Siakam TOR +3.0 Embiid PHI +4.4 Griffin DET +2.9 Irving BOS +4.1 Walker CHA +2.8 Cousins* GS +4.1 Bledsoe MIL +2.8 Butler PHI +4.0 Millsap DEN +2.8 Lowry TOR +4.0 Green TOR +2.8 Covington MIN +2.7 Drummond DET +2.7 Conley MEM +2.6 Gasol TOR +2.5

* Out indefinitely with injury

Players in italics are on teams that missed the playoffs.

Sources: ESPN, Basketball-Reference.com

In an unusual twist, two of this season’s Alphas — LeBron James and Anthony Davis — actually missed the playoffs. (Their intertwined soap opera is worth its own set of charts.) But among the postseason’s remaining star power, there are some interesting mixes of player tiers on the top teams.

The Warriors might be a surprise with only one Alpha (Stephen Curry), one Beta (Kevin Durant) and one Gamma (Draymond Green). Durant didn’t quite qualify for Alpha status, in part because he ranked only ninth in Real Plus-Minus (and 18th in Box Plus/Minus) this season. Meanwhile, Green was downgraded to a Gamma because of a weak offensive season,2 Klay Thompson barely broke even in projected plus/minus talent (+0.1), and Cousins now appears to be lost for at least most of the playoffs. The usual caveats about the Warriors’ sometimes lax regular-season efforts apply, but based on performance metrics, this team’s name recognition might outpace its actual star power at this point.

And yet, only the Raptors match the Warriors in that regard among postseason teams. They also did it in a very different way: Unlike Golden State, Toronto boasts no Alphas, but it does have one Beta (Kyle Lowry) and four Gammas (Kawhi Leonard, Pascal Siakam, Danny Green and Marc Gasol). Wait … Lowry is a Beta and Leonard is only a Gamma? The difference between the two (+4.0 vs. +3.7) is so slim as to be splitting hairs, but Leonard had a surprisingly down year in RPM, ranking just 37th in the league, while Lowry ranked 20th. The broader point, however, is that Toronto has assembled an unusually deep stable of star talent. The team has long been known for its depth down the roster, but a series of moves helped turn that depth into something slightly different: a collection of quasi-star-level talent at the top of the lineup.

How the playoff teams stack up on star power

Current CARMELO ratings and star points* for 2019 NBA playoff teams

Players By Tier Team CARMELO Rating Alphas Betas Gammas Star Points Golden State Warriors 1794 1 1 1 6 Toronto Raptors 1775 0 1 4 6 Houston Rockets 1753 1 1 0 5 Philadelphia 76ers 1673 0 2 1 5 Milwaukee Bucks 1739 1 0 1 4 Oklahoma City Thunder 1673 0 2 0 4 Denver Nuggets 1673 1 0 1 4 Boston Celtics 1641 0 1 1 3 Utah Jazz 1699 0 1 0 2 Portland Trail Blazers 1581 0 1 0 2 Orlando Magic 1534 0 1 0 2 Detroit Pistons 1425 0 0 2 2 San Antonio Spurs 1548 0 0 0 0 Indiana Pacers 1544 0 0 0 0 Los Angeles Clippers 1500 0 0 0 0 Brooklyn Nets 1478 0 0 0 0

* Star points are based on a weighted total of a team’s stars, in which Alphas are worth 3 points, Betas are worth 2, and Gammas are worth 1.

Team totals do not include injured players.

Sources: ESPN, Basketball-Reference.com

The Rockets and Sixers rank just below the Warriors and Raptors in star points with 5 apiece, but where in that group is Milwaukee, the East’s No. 1 seed? The Bucks have perhaps the Alpha of all Alphas this season in Giannis Antetokounmpo. But only one other player around him qualified as a star: Eric Bledsoe is a Gamma, while Brook Lopez barely misses the cutoff. Milwaukee’s overall lack of supporting star power would make it a historical anomaly if it does end up winning the NBA title.

The Utah Jazz, in the midst of a brutal first-round matchup against the Rockets, also has very little star power (one Beta in Rudy Gobert). But they have a bunch of guys who just barely missed Gamma status: Joe Ingles, Derrick Favors, Ekpe Udoh and Donovan Mitchell all had CARMELO plus/minus ratings under +2.5 but greater than +1.5. If we added an extra category for “Deltas” — worth, say, a half-point per player — the Jazz would leapfrog Boston and be much closer to the top of the heap than the bottom.

Regardless, there’s a reason that star points don’t track perfectly with a team’s CARMELO rating or its championship odds. Depth does matter some, even if the effect is less of a factor as rotations shorten during the postseason. And sometimes teams are simply built with a blueprint that helps them perform better than their star power would suggest (the Bucks are a good test case there as well), while others aren’t quite as good as their multiple stars say they should be (the Sixers could be lumped into that group).

Before they blew a 31-point lead Monday night — and, more importantly, lost Cousins to injury — the Warriors were looking every bit the star-studded machine we thought they’d be all season long. Now, they are still sizable favorites to win it all, but their edge in star power is not quite as decisive as it’s been in recent seasons. We’ll find out soon enough whether that will matter in Golden State’s quest for a third straight championship, or if another team near the top of the rankings above can finally supplant the Warriors and build a star-powered legacy of its own.

Check out our latest NBA predictions.

from News About Sports https://fivethirtyeight.com/features/which-playoff-teams-have-the-most-star-power/

[thrashermaxey]

Ramblings: Quick and Vanek Injured; Early Shot and Goal Rates – November 1

  We only had one game on Wednesday night, and no it wasn’t because of Halloween. If my math is right, Game 7 of the World Series would have been yesterday evening had the Los Angeles Dodgers been able to muster some sort of fight. Alas, it was not, and all we had was the lone late game, Chicago in Vancouver. I will update that in the morning.

Let’s get to some news.

  Los Angeles announced goalie Jonathan Quick is out indefinitely following surgery for a torn meniscus. In his stead, Jack Campbell would be the pickup to make, if he's available. The rough timeline right now could be up until the middle of December for Quick's recovery. 

  Thomas Vanek was injured on Tuesday night and left the game. The initial timeline is that he would miss 2-3 weeks with whatever is ailing him. Needless to say, the Wings can ill-afford to lose forward depth. I’m not sure there’s anyone on that roster worth grabbing to fill his minutes.

*

Pekka Rinne was activated off the IR and should be good to go for Nashville’s next game, which comes Thursday in Tampa Bay. The team only has two games in the next six days and only one back to back in the next six weeks so expect Juuse Saros to be on the bench a lot. Maybe they decide to save Rinne a bit, maybe not. I tend to lean in the direction of coaches over-using their starting goalie.

* Jakub Vrana is once again skating on the top line in practice for the Caps. While they’re going through a rotation of players with Tom Wilson still suspended for the next few weeks, it’ll be interesting to see if Vrana can stick there for the time being. He’s definitely shown well enough to earn longer than a one game look.

*

After missing Tuesday’s game, Kris Letang was back skating with the Penguins on Wednesday, and patrolling the top PP unit to boot. Thankfully, whatever his issue was seems to be very minor and fantasy owners should have nothing to worry about.

For now.

*

File under: “that didn’t take long,” as Mitch Marner was back alongside John Tavares for practice on Wednesday. Kasperi Kapanen was moved down to play with Nazem Kadri.

Not only did Kapanen lose his spot next to Tavares at 5v5, he was also booted off the top PP unit in favour of Patrick Marleau. I do wonder how much line shuffling will go on in the absence of Auston Matthews, particularly if the Leafs aren’t winning as often as Mike Babcock would like.

*

Jake Allen went through the concussion protocol and has apparently been cleared to play. Whether or not the team goes back to the netminder after his start to the season brought an .874 save percentage remains to be seen.

*

Islanders goalie Robin Lehner is being listed as day-to-day. He left Tuesday’s win over Pittsburgh after the second period and did not return. The Islanders goaltender has been a big reason for their early success and they need him back sooner rather than later.

*

Halloween has come and gone and with it, the month of October. It’s hard to believe we’re already four weeks into the season; it feels like it was yesterday the Capitals thoroughly ran over the Bruins in their 7-0 home opener.

We had one game on Halloween, which means this is a perfect opportunity to go over the first four weeks of the season. I’m going to go through trends, hot/cold starts, and differences league-wide from last year. Let’s get right to it and remember, this is up to but not including the late game on Wednesday night and data is from Natural Stat Trick.

  The shot rate at five-on-five is down

This might surprise some people given the general speed of the game and the rise in goal scoring, but shot rates at five-on-five are down slightly from this time last year. In 2017-18, teams averaged 57.47 shot attempts per 60 minutes, higher than 2018-19’s rate of 57.29.

I’ll get to goals in a second, but it’s interesting that the overall shot rate has declined. Back in May, I wrote about the increase in league-wide shot rates over the last five years. While 2013 through 2016 didn’t see much change, there was a jump in 2016-17 and a bigger jump in 2017-18. A decline this year would not be in line with the trend we’ve seen of late.

Fantasy owners should take note of this if only for one reason: the need for players to continue to increase their shot rates to maintain their expected fantasy value isn’t necessary. If a guy was projected for 210 shots, and he’s on pace for about 210 shots, then it’s fine. He’s not falling behind in some regard as we might have originally expected.

  Goal scoring at five-on-five is also down

Goal scoring is up league-wide on the whole! It’s great! Everyone loves the NHL with a lot of goals!

Except those goals are not coming at five-on-five play. In 2017-18, through to October 31st, teams scored an average of 2.53 goals per 60 minutes at five-on-five, compared to 2.44 goals per 60 minutes this year. That difference has shaved off about 25 goals had the goal rate stayed constant from last year.

Unless you’re in a league that counts just five-on-five goal scoring, that goal scoring in that state is down is not in and of itself very important. What is important is the following…

  Goal Scoring on the Power Play is Way Up

Last week in these Ramblings I wrote about how power play efficiency on the season was higher than last year. But that just compared three weeks of the 2018-19 NHL season to the entirety of the 2017-18 NHL season. How did the months of October compare?

Well, it’s not that close. Through to Halloween last year, teams scored 6.9 goals per 60 minutes (nice) with the man advantage. Compare that to this year’s rate of 7.48 goals per 60 minutes and it’s easy to see why scoring is up. That has given us an extra 21 power play goals league-wide through the rise in goal rates alone.

You may have noticed that the 21 extra goals on the PP doesn’t make up for the 25 goals lost at five-on-five. So why is goal scoring up? Other even strength states are picking up the slack. While the decline in goals per 60 minutes at five-on-five is down 0.09 this year compared to last, the decline in goals per 60 minutes at even strength (which includes 4v4 and 3v3) is down just 0.02 goals per 60 minutes. Though there’s been a roughly 25-goal decline at 5v5 compared to this time last year, the decline at even strength – 5v5 + 4v4 + 3v3 – is only about six goals. That is why goal scoring as a whole is up even though the decline at 5v5 is greater than the improvement on the PP.

  Short Handed Goals are Down

Just for fun, short handed goals scored per 60 minutes is also down from last year by about 0.13 per 60 minutes. Teams are scoring more on the PP but giving up less.

  All this is important for fantasy owners to know. Should trends sustain themselves for the season, having those players who log heavy PP minutes is more important than we thought even a month ago. Less scoring at even strength, particularly at 5v5, and more goal scoring on the PP makes those man-advantage minutes just that much more valuable. Anecdotally, we’re seeing this effect on DraftKings, where defencemen like Neal Pionk and Dennis Cholowski – when on their respective top PP units – have been priced in the same range as someone like Roman Josi.

This puts a premium on some players and reduces the value of others. Keep all this in mind when making trades or adding names off the waiver wire.

  *

What do Alex Killorn, Dylan Strome, Pavel Zacha, Colin Miller, and Will Butcher all have in common? None of them have registered a point yet at five-on-five. Their individual points percentage (IPP), or the rate at which they garner a point when a goal is scored with them on the ice, sit at the ol’ Blutarsky: 0.0.

It’s a weird spot for most of these players. Strome’s is understandable as his on-ice goals per 60 minutes is 0.52. In other words, the team has scored one goal with him on the ice at five-on-five this year, with a team shooting percentage of 1.61 percent. Miller’s is low as well at 1.45 goals per 60 minutes, the same rate as Zacha. Killorn’s IPP is 0.00 because the team has scored 0.00 goals per 60 minutes with him on the ice. However, the New Jersey Devils have scored 2.93 goals per 60 minutes with Butcher on the ice and he has yet to register a point.

There’s nothing really out of line for the Devils. They’re shooting 8.8% as a team at 5v5, sitting at 10th in the league, scoring 2.79 goals per 60 minutes. That puts Butcher’s on-ice goals at a normal level. Had he registered a point on 41% of the goal scored with him on the ice this year as he did last year, you could add 2-3 points to his current total.

All this is to say I think it’s worth poking your league’s Will Butcher owner, but in a points-only league rather than a roto league and see what it’d cost to acquire him. He won’t contribute much in shots or other peripherals, but 40 points should be seen as his floor right now, rather than a level owners hope he can reach.  

from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-quick-and-vanek-injured-early-shot-and-goal-rates-november-1/

[junker-town]

The White Sox are a half-game out. Should they have kept Chris Sale and Adam Eaton?

The White Sox held a fire sale, but now they’re contending. Do they have regrets?

In November, I descended down the rocky slopes of Mt. Take with stone tablets, and I announced to the world that The White Sox Should Think Hard Before Trading Chris Sale. The reasoning went something like this: Sale is excellent, cheap, and excellent. He’s a fine head start on a would-be contender, especially one that has players like Jose Quintana, Adam Eaton, and Jose Abreu. Maybe there was a way to patch the team’s holes and give it one last go.

After the world fawned at how much the White Sox extracted from the Red Sox and Nationals in separate trades, I shut up because I’m timid and want people to like me. The question still bugged me, though. When you start with Sale, Eaton, and Quintana, haven’t you done most of the heavy lifting? The White Sox were doing well in the fantasy draft of real life.

It’s May, and the White Sox are in second place. If the season ended right now, they would go to Yankee Stadium for the Wild Card Game, and they’re just a half-game behind the Indians for first place. I’d reckon one Chris Sale would be worth that half-game, if not much more, and with him on the roster, the White Sox would be in first. Eaton wouldn’t have gotten hurt on a freak play, either, which is better for everyone involved.

This validates my November opinions, right? This must be analogous to when the Twins traded Johan Santana and missed the postseason by a single game the next season. I get to take a victory lap and write the piece I was hoping for, which is, “The White Sox are contending, and they shouldn’t have traded Chris Sale and Adam Eaton?”

Nah. I was wrong then, and I’m not going to double down on it. The White Sox are going to be really bad, everyone, and they’re going to enjoy their Yoan Moncada and Michael Kopech spoils for years. Some words to convince you:

The White Sox aren’t actually hitting that well

You can break the hitters into a few categories.

Crushing the ball Avisail Garcia Leury Garcia Matt Davidson

Head above water/doin’ fine Jose Abreu Omar Narvaez

Struggling mightily Todd Frazier Melky Cabrera Cody Asche Tyler Saladino Tim Anderson

It’s a topsy-turvy collection of players who are doing the opposite of what you would expect, mostly. If you use Base Runs, the White Sox have scored 17 more runs than expected, which suggests a healthy heaping of luck and fortuitous timing.

Focus on the players crushing the ball, though. Is this a new Avisail Garcia, or are there red flags? He’s struck out 21 times to just five walks in 93 plate appearances, and his batting average on balls in play is .443. It’s gauche to use BABIP as the explanation for everything, so I don’t use it often, but it’s an obvious culprit here. There’s a strong, strong chance that Avisail Garcia is going to hit like Avisail Garcia this year, not a twitchier Manny Ramirez.

Leury Garcia and Matt Davidson fall into a similar category. You can point to specific improvements and suggest they’ve figured something out at age 26, or you can retreat behind easy appeals to sample size. If I’m arguing for undoing the Sale trade, I’ll need more evidence for this.

Their pitching probably isn’t this good

FIP is the BABIP of easy excuses for pitchers, sure. But just like the last section, it’s a pretty obvious indicator that something fishy is going on with the White Sox’ pitchers.

Team ERA: 3.24 Team FIP: 4.24

A nice, clean, one-run difference for every nine innings on average over a full month. Derek Holland’s 2.17 ERA isn’t going to last (even if he might remain super useful). Miguel Gonzalez is still a fine pitcher, but he shouldn’t be an All-Star. James Shields should have given up about a dozen runs so far, not three, and now he’s hurt.

Mike Pelfrey is in the rotation.

Mike Pelfrey.

Chris Sale would have helped, of course, but when I look at the rotation, I’m not seeing a pitcher that’s an ace away, especially with Quintana struggling. The brightest spot of the roster is the bullpen, and that could be a sustainable strength. That makes me excited for the organization in July, not disappointed that they won’t have Sale in September.

Just about every one of their best players is either hurt or in a funk right now

There are two ways to look at this. The first is that if Jose Abreu, Jose Quintana, Todd Frazier, Melky Cabrera, Tim Anderson, and Carlos Rodon aren’t contributing much now, just imagine how good the White Sox will be when they all snap out of it! Abreu can hit a dozen homers next month and carry the team. Quintana could rattle off five one-run outings in a row. If the White Sox are good now, just imagine when the rest of the team starts to show up.

This is how I would normally look at a situation like this. Watch out: The varsity team hasn’t even shown up yet.

The other way to look at it is that not all of these players has to have a good season. And the only way the White Sox were going to contend, the only reasoning behind my argument from November, was if all of these players hit. Not one. Not most of them. They needed a parlay, right down the line. Abreu would have needed to slug 30 or 40 dingers. Cabrera would have had to hold his value. Quintana would have needed to be a sneaky-ace. Anderson would have to saw through the chrysalis, and Rodon would have to develop into a reliable starter instead of an erratic slider machine.

With all of these players going through some weirdness, I’m less convinced that the parlay will happen. While I’m not comfortable saying that both Abreu and Quintana will continue their funks indefinitely, I’m pretty comfortable suggesting that neither of them have to snap out of it. The White Sox, if they were going to make a run with Sale, needed contributions of all the above players. That they’re all struggling is proof that it doesn’t have to happen so nice and neat, not that they’re do and the White Sox will be even better in May.

So put the glowing red button in front of me, the one that reads, “Undo the Sale and Eaton trades?” and I’ll pass. Moncada is doing well in Triple-A, even if he’s a little aggressive, and Michael Kopech is still a rare member of the baseball bestiary. Lucas Giolito still has the pedigree and that new prospect smell. And this White Sox team probably isn’t good enough to give that all back.

They still might surprise. They still might linger around the top of the Central, and they might even surge with Quintana and Abreu coming around. But I regret my take from November. The warmer start than anticipated doesn’t change that.