#idek this took on a life of its own

[livwritesstuff]

Hi, just saw this on Instagram. Literally the difference between Dads of sons (Metallica in the back seat) and Dads of Daughters (front). I don't really know what Steddie-dads scenario would be fitting, but I just couldn't not send it.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C4X64Z0O66W/?igsh=MWtrcWFzNjZld2lwZA==

oh man that video gave me a good chuckle (and in my open-concept office too, it was kind of embarrassing).

They’re definitely the dads pulling up to the soccer games with Disney music blasting out of the speakers and some of the other parents are like, “Damn, that must get old for you guys.”

And Eddie is like, “Are you kidding? This shit rocks! Have you heard the Tarzan soundtrack – you gotta hear the Tarzan soundtrack! It’s unbelievable!”

They’re definitely not turning into Disney fanatics or whatever, but their overall mentality surrounding parenthood is, “Our kids are into this? Great, we’re into it too.”

Even when their daughters are older, Steve and Eddie are meeting other parents of girls like “What do you mean you don’t know which brand of nail polish dries the fastest?”

Like, they are THE girl-dads.

They experience the other side of it when they interact with boy-parents though, because that’s totally foreign territory for them.

I think it would be funny if Lucas (or maybe Dustin but I’ve put less thought into what his family life looks like as an adult) was a boy-dad, and so he and Steve and Eddie are like great, we can all commiserate over the weird shit our children put us through.

No.

No they cannot.

Because Lucas says things to them like, “Damn, these fortnite dances are getting real annoying.”

And they’re like “Uh…what are you talking about?” but then when they ask, “How are you handling the psychological warfare?”

Lucas is all crickets.

#idek this took on a life of its own #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie dads

[quarks-pussy]

Mirror Kira is something that can actually be so personal

#in a number of ways tbh like defo in a gay way and in terms of clone fucker rights and in terms of evil girlbossing etc etc but most of all #most of the mirror characters (to me) feel like au versions of the prime characters and obviously they ARE but they're still very much atta #attached to the prime characters y'know what i mean? like maybe not everyone but most mirror characters do feel like they basically are wha #the prime characters could've been if their lives had been different and like it's not completely out of the question for mirror kira but s #she still feels so... herself. like she's not defined by prime kira on any level. most mirror characters feel very defined by their prime c #counterparts and mirror kira... she's different. she is literally herself and no similarities will change that. she does not exist as an ex #extension of prime kira she is her own separate character. mirror kira could literally exist in the prime universe without even having to b #connected to prime kira by anything other than name and face. file off her serial numbers and you're golden & have a new and extremely comp #compelling villain. she is separate she's herself and nobody else. all the other mirror characters feel like twisted versions of the prime #characters who took a different path at some point. if there's any way to apply this to mirror kira that point would be her birth. like she #genuinely feels like they took a look at the circumstances on bajor in the mirror verse and thought about how a bajoran might grow up there #and THEN they made that bajoran kira. like i'm not saying she's nothing like prime kira but she just feels so much more developed tbh as if #they genuinely wrote out her whole life rather than just its present state y'know. it's great! i adore her #anyway #mirror kira nerys #mirrorverse #star trek deep space nine #ds9 #yes most of the meat of this post is in the tags lmao idek why #original posts fresh from quark's pussy

[callilouv]

overanalyzing everything i do would solve 99.99% of my problems methinks

#cw vent #DONR READ IF U DONT WANT MY SAD EMO STUFF PSLSPSPSL #ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ idle chit chat #gusy dont mind me ok im back with my overthinking nothing special<3 HELKJKH #im too hard on myself i think aha #hashtag people pleaser problems #i dont like how i aim to please people instead of focusing on what will be better for me #like this is more of an irl problem rather than online yk #for all of my life ive just been so so passive and lenient #i was so scared of my family expressing any negative feelings towards me that i basically became less like a human and more like a doll #i didnt speak that much . never really complained about anything . and took what i was given #and it has impacted me so fucking much #they werent kidding when stuff like this usually starts in your own home aha #but yeah man #i just feel like if i dont act a certain way or paint myself to be this certain kind of friend nobody would care for me #when will i ever be comfortable and happy as who i truly am i wonder? #idek if this makes sense tbh im just writing thought LMAO #but usually my thoughts contradict each other . but everything makes sense at the same time . so its kinda hard to type down without not mak #ing any sense LMAOO

[allfearstofallto]

saw yr posts abt submissive yanderes, and hear me out, tartaglia. i mean this from the bottom of my heart he is the one that wants you to do things to him, and while that’s not exactly submission i think it’s close enough?

just… in my mind he wants anything you’ll give him, he’ll give his body up to you, even if you punch and kick him, he takes it, sure he’d rather you treat him the way he would (does?) you, but any touch you give makes him feel like a wild animal.

tartaglia, who just needs you. idek i’m losing my train of thought 🙏

I don't think it's exactly what you wanted, but I got carried away and wrote masochist Childe👉🏾👈🏾. I hope that's okay!!! Personally, as a woman who loves femdom, it felt so good to write this though!! It was like I was going back to my roots.

TW: NSF.W Yandere themes, BDSM (bondage, sadism/masochism), violence, nipple play, unprotected sex, finishing inside, dub-con, overstimulation(?), choking

“Hurt me more,” he cooed while looking up at you with big, eyes full of anticipation. Drool leaking from his lips, his cheek was already red and warm from your stinging slap across it, “C’mon, I know you hate me. Now's your chance to treat me like you do.” He'd goad you with that same smug, smirk on his face.

Childe's big strong arms were tied with a rope to the headboard. The material was tight, digging into the flesh of his wrist anytime he'd struggle against them. But despite the aching pain you could imagine he was feeling, he showed a face of hunger, of desire for more.

His cock, large and twitching, was strained against his boxers, begging to be let free from its confines. When you brought another rough slap down across his cheek, you watched it twitch and leak and darken that already deep fabric with his precum, while he trembled with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

He'd grind his hips up, wanting you to free his aching dick, but you never did. You knew he could cum without it and he did too. Your hand would slide up his chiseled stomach, his body was always slightly colder than what it was supposed to be, and you squeezed one of his pink nipples between your finger tips. As hard as you could. Squeezing and twisting until your hand shook.

Lips clenched together, he muffled his own moans. His cock twitched in his underwear a few more times, the head of it rubbing against the precum he'd already spilled on his boxers .He came like that, the many shots of his semen continuing to soak the cloth until it began to drip down his cock again.

When he stilled from his orgasm, his body still twitching, he smiled at you lovingly. All the disgust you felt towards him still there, you'd turn away without a word.

You never took yourself to be much of a sadist, the idea of it being like a whisper of the night, never being brought to the day, but that was before Childe took you. Locked away in his home, falling victim to his torture that he called love, you felt animosity towards him grow. That animosity would turn into violent fits of rage, ones that he never took seriously. There was no way you could actually hurt a harbinger, especially without a vision, but that didn't stop you from trying. And one fateful day, you actually managed to connect a punch to his jaw.

It was your first time ever punching someone and felt more like you were hitting a brick wall than a person. You shook your sore hand out, immediately regretting what you'd done for the pain it caused you instead. But Childe stood there stiff, a little bruise forming on the side of his face. His eyes had rolled back, body beginning to shutter. His mouth agape, he let out a soft, low moan. You were going to tell him to stop joking around, that he wasn't funny, until he dropped to his knees in front of you, a wet patch forming on the front of his pants. Childe had cum just from your little act of violence.

While he loved the art of fighting. The rush that ending another life gave him, the way his body felt while he was throwing punches, it was an unmatchable adrenaline rush, he never knew he was one for pain. Pain from your hands felt different. It felt pleasurable. A familiar stinging followed by tingles that shot through his body. Only you could do that to him.

“You're incredible, my angel,” he moaned while kissing up your thighs, wanting to do more with this new found knowledge of his.

He had you laid back on the bed, pounding into your tender cunt with little mercy. Each long stroke of his cock made your toes curl from the unwanted pleasure of him hitting your insides. Your legs on his hips, you squeezed the sheets for leverage as you begged for him to stop, or at the very least slow down. He was going to fast, too drunk and clumsy from the satisfaction your dripping pussy was giving him.

Childe’s large hand engulfed your wrist, a feeling you were familiar with. Instead of holding you in place so he could fuck you deeper into the mattress with less struggle from you like you thought he would, he lifted it up and placed your palm to his neck.

“Make me,” he growled, lust clouding his eyes. Uncertainty caused you to tremble for a moment before you realized that this was Childe, nothing you could do could actually hurt him. He was asking for it, even going as far as to lift your legs higher, to thrust into you deeper, to make you try to stop him more.

You squeezed that muscled throat, choking him with the hope that he might actually die, but knowing better. He loved it, his already obnoxious moans were even louder than before. His thrusts felt even more rough, hips slapping against yours as you actually felt yourself growing a little aroused from this and he noticed too. A smirk on his face as he struggled to inhale, but still fucking you at that same brutal pace with those same deep, strokes.

He strained to speak as he tried to tell you he was cumming, his mouth just opening and closing, drooling down his chin. Childe forced his cock balls deep inside of you, going so deep with his length it almost felt uncomfortable. He began to cum, dick twitching like mad against your walls. Soft whimpers and groans would drop from his lips as you didn't let go of him, only squeezing his throat tighter.

His cock didn't get the chance to soften, he stayed hard as he started slow, shallow thrusts into your pussy again. The mixture of the pain of overstimulation and lack of air from your choking has him convulsing, but he didn't pull out, using his own cum as lube.

“Ah…hah…just say you want to milk me dry, my love, I'll keep going,” he managed to grunt through tears, his orange hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

#mai<3 answers #genshin #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #genshin impact #yandere smut #yandere imagines #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere childe smut #childe smut #childe x reader #mdni

[ultfreakme]

Okay I’m still on the verge of tears and can’t do this rn so buddy daddies ep 10 jumbled thoughts

Idk wtf anyone says anymore the entire kazurei relationship is queer there is absolutely NO denying it anymore. That scene where Kazuki is looking at kids with their moms, then it cuts to himself? Yeah that’s basically insecurity and feeling terrible he can’t fit their own family into societal standards. Yeah it’s about Miri missing Misaki, about how their careers aren’t meant to accommodate a child but its also about how society has made us all internalize that a ‘right’ family involves a mom, a dad, and a child/

Miri is absolutely sad that Misaki isn’t with her, but she’s never like, so upset she gets devastated. Misaki herself asks “do you like it here better than with me?” and what does Miri answer? She doesn’t says “yeah i like it better here”, BUT she also doesn’t say “I like it best with you!”, she completely dodges and says “I love you mama, and papas too”. Any time a situation involving a mother comes up, she’s like “would be nice if mama were here....anyways!” and doesn’t dwell on it.

I thought Rei smiling would kill me but Kazuki almost CRYING DESTROYED MY SOUL. It’s like watching either of my parents cry its heartbreaking and horrible and i want it to stop. He thought he’d never find that normal happiness, wanted it oh so desperately and then it’s....gone. The Ferris wheel symbolism was horrible I hate the OP for doing that to me. That opening where they’re in front of the billboards was just-- IT WAS IN FRONT OF US THE WHOLE TIME

I think even Rei almost cried. On the ferris wheel, when they focused on his mouth and it twisted downwards before Miri pointed to the city. Kazuki crying was bad enough and had me tearing up too. If Rei was added into the mix I’d have been in shambles

Misaki holy shit wtf, life hates her, cut the woman some slack wow. Throughout the show she was defined by her singing and they took her voice away. It’s horrible, but I’m glad she has parents to go back to. I’m not fully convinced she can take care of Miri, but if she’s being genuine I think she’ll be just fine and would learn just like Kazurei.

Rei sounded so devastated when he was like “you can’t do this when we’re all attached”. Yeah this was his glimpse at normalcy, the one time in his entire life he got to be part of something that didn’t stifle him and it’s gone now. 

Kazuki wrapping the scarf around her- hey why don’t I just eat glass? Why don’t I just go on top of a cliff and scream?? Or set fire to my bed???

“I guess we can’t change” BABY NO YOU CAN. YOU CAAAN!!!

I thought Rei would defy the organization and say “screw it I want to protect this family I have”......but his most prominent memory of his mentor is him dying. How defiance led to his and his wife/gf’s horrifying death. In his head he’s probably thinking that’d be Kazuki and Miri if he doesn’t quit while they’re ahead. Alive and miserable, or dead while holding onto hopeless situations?

Kazuki.....idek.....just Kazuki baby I’m so sorry

#buddy daddies #buddy daddies episode 10 #kazurei #kazuki kurusu #suwa rei #unasaka miri #buddy daddies spoilers #kazuki x rei #unasaka misaki

[silvervioletvalentine]

💋!Girls are players too!💋

Pairing : Max Verstappen x Cherrie!

Word count : 7k

Summary : in which girls are players too!

Warnings : none? Awkwardness. Past hookups and one , really busy last summer for Cherrie. (She was a slut with a capital S, no shame . Queen behaviour). Just a load of silliness really . Idek.

Cherrie and Lola were both wearing matching expressions of amazement as they gazed down at the sparkling, heart shaped diamond necklace dangling from her fingertips, swaying gently between them, she Could almost feel herself getting hypnotised by its beauty .

Eyelashes fluttering just as much as the wings of the butterflies that were suddenly filling her chest were, cheeks flushing in colour as she heard Lola let out a loud 'awww'.

"Who would have thought that he could be so sweet?" Lola spoke in amazement , both of them exchanging giddy smiles .

The proudness her best friend felt as she watched her usually unloving friend get all giggly over a guy like this. She felt like she was hallucinating, blinking rapidly to assure that Cherrie’s soft smile still stayed the same on her beautiful face.

It did. It wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon either.

“He's totally Soft on you Cherrie. He looks at you like you are the shiniest diamond in his life. I still can't believe that this is happening." Lola said, honestly still in disbelief that she hasn't ditched max as soon as she had gotten her weekends worth of pleasure from him. The usual play around no longer to be seen.

But four months on and the two of them were now more in love that hormonal teenagers , constantly spending all their free time together and Lola was in shock at the way her 'never be tied down because all men fucking suck ass' friend, was now so in love and happy .

She was happy for her, she really was , but still...it had all happened so quickly.

Because it was no secret that Cherrie was a 'player , she played the game much better than any other rich playboy could . She had men wrapped around her finger with just one look, a lifestyle of partying in all of the biggest and newest clubs , champagne on flow and fucking anyone that she found even remotely found attractive.

She was a proud whore who loved sex. There was nothing wrong with it. If men could sleep there way around the city, then why couldn't she? She had needs too and she liked to play the game. It was fun and up until the last break it had been more than enough for her, settling down had never been in the cards at all .

She loved her chaotic and party girl lifestyle far too much to stop it now.

But then she met max.

Sweet, awkward , rambling max who had taken one look at her pretty face , tripped over his own two feet and sent them both flying to the floor with his drink covering her from head to toe Before she could even mutter a simple hello.

She had laid out on the club floor in absolute shock for nearly a minute , simply blinking up at a wide eyed max dazedly as he babbled his apologies and nervously started dabbing at her wet skin with napkins , face bright red and unable to look her in her eyes.

And she had known then that she was done for. Because instead of getting mad like she usually would over him ruining a €5000 dress made of real silk. She had took one look at his red cheeks and trembling hands and fell head over her prada heels in love with him.

Because apparently being in love was something that she actually was capable of. A absolute shocker to not only herself but to all of her friends around her too. Who watched Cherrie going from sleeping with a different man every night , to spending her weekends having date nights with max in their apartment, just the two of them. Cuddled up on the couch, exchanging soft kisses till they would eventually end up in a bed, fucking all night long.

It was still a little bit of a confusing adjustment for her, she could admit . But she wouldn't change what they had for anything. Because max made her happy, which with her being such a difficult person to please, was a rare thing to happen and she never wanted to let that feeling of love and being loved in return , go.

Max wasn't Afraid to show just how much he was obsessed with Cherrie either. Every time he even so much as caught a glimpse of her, his whole face would light up and he would immediately leave any conversation he had been having , just to go see her.

To hold her close and whisper stupid jokes in her ears all night long, his eyes glued to her smile as he awaited for her to laugh at his jokes eagerly, pride glowing on him when she finally did. Knowing that he was the one that made her knees buckle beneath her as she giggled hysterically, proudly knowing that he was the one that made her smile so fondly like that. Knowing that he was the only one that she looked at this way.

It was a huge ego booster , he would admit. He admired her, he adored her, he loved her and knew in his soul that she was the one. The woman that he would marry someday soon.

He had bought a sparkling ring just after two months of dating , right after watching her punch some guy in the face after she had overheard him badmouthing max in a bar . She hasn't hesitated to stick up for him... with her fists. Defending him with her every breath while max did the same for her too.

They were madly in love with each other and Cherrie loved every single minute of being with him, but she couldn't help but feel like this was all going a little too well.

Good things didn’t last forever , did they? Where was the catch? Which door was the trap, with the floor waiting to fall through , taking her with it?

"I can't believe it. This time last year you were having a threesome with those footballers and now you're wearing a hesrt shaped necklace with Max's intials on it." Lola said with a slightly amused grin, shaking her head in amazement.

Cherrie let out a light laugh , eyebrow raising as she recalled the last few years of her life. Her slut era had been a long one, that was for sure.

She had a lot , a lot of fun. There was no denying it.

"I know right! I can't believe it either but max is so good to me.." she sighed blissfully as she sat down on the edge of the couch to put her heels on, checking her phone to see a text from max telling her that he'd be arriving soon and that he couldn't wait to see her.

She smiled to herself happily. "I am a little nervous though. It's the first time that I'm going to be meeting some of his friends and teammates.." she sighed , worried about if they would like her or not.

She did have a reputation , after all. A top model who had spent years trending online whenever new photos would emerge of her with her flavour of the week. Whether it be a actor, singer, ceo or footballers ... she had a long line of ex lovers. It was no secret and it wasn't something that she was exactly ashamed of either.

And max never bright her past up either , I mean, why would he? He hadn't known her then, he had no say in who she fucked over the years. That was in the past for a reason.

But she still wanted those closest to him to like her, she planned on being with max for a very long time. Forever hopefully, so she had to be on her best behaviour tonight .

No more snorting Coke in the back of the taxi. No more dancing topless on tables while some random guy sucked vodka off her tits. No more blowing the bartender for free drinks. No more orgies.

It was taking a little time to get used to, but she was getting there. She was.

Truly.

"Do you even know who they are? You've never even watched a formula one race.." Lola pointed out, bending down to help her lace up her other heel.

Cherrie pouted a little "I don't. I don't even know what they look like. I'm not really interested..i just don't want to embarrass max." She muttered worriedly. Clutching at the necklace that now hung delicately around her neck.

Lola scoffed "there's no way you can embarrass him gorgeous. If anything it would be the other way around..he’s probably more worried about that. Gorgeous men everywhere that want you.." she reminded her with a small smirk. Always amused by the affect her best friend had on men.

Cherrie just rolled her eyes "well he doesn't have to worry 'cause he's the only one I want now. The other guys may be hot but they lack that spark that makes me love them. Max has everything I need." She said seriously, meaning every word of it.

Her face brightening when she heard a knock at her door, hurrying to her feet and almost falling into the door from how fast she was going in her high heels.

A giddy squeal escaping her as she opened the door and found max smiling back at her, eyes scanning him in his blue jeans and white linen shirt, hair gelled back and looking as handsome as ever.

She beamed back at him "max! You look beautiful! Is this the shirt that I bought you in morroco?" She gushed as she gently smoothed her hands down the front of it, unbuttoning two buttons at the top of the shirt to make  him look a little more relaxed.

Max just let her fix him up, even bending his head down a little so she could fix a stray piece of hair that had fell down onto his forhead for him.

His cheeks flushing at the admiration across her stunning face, feeling his heart skip a beat as he took in the way the champagne coloured dress draped over her body like a waterfall of silk , hair in loose curls and makeup done to perfection.

She looked like the supermodel that she was. Swallowing his suddenly dry throat , a shy smile tugging at his lips as his eyes caught onto the necklace between her breasts. Pride filling him.

"It is. You like it?" He asked her a little unsurely, not used to dressing up often. But with a supermodel now at his side, he knew that he had to step up his fashion game a little .

She leaned up and kissed his rosy cheek, her smile evident against his skin. "I love it. I'd love it even better on the floor.. we still have time-" she suggestively bit her lip, pulling his arm a little , trying to convince him to follow her back to her bedroom.

Max laughing loudly as he pulled her the opposite way, back out of her apartment. Quickly shutting the door behind her before she could successfully make him ditch the party .

"No!no! Don't even.." he warned her playfully flicking her forhead making her giggle at him, shaking his head at her in amusement "we've missed so many party's and events because of you being horny." He stated matter of factly, smirking to himself as he recalled how convincing she could really be.

She could probably get him to do anything she wanted at this point. One flutter of her eyes and smile on her pouty lips.. he was done for. Completely fucked.

He didn't know how he had gotten so lucky to have a woman like Cherrie fall in love with him . With Confidence that bordered on cocky, loud and mischievous. Funny and smart...always fucking horny. Could drink like a sailor and swear like one two.. she was a dream.

His dream. 

He hasn't realised that it was possible to ever love somebody this much. She was his life now.

Forever if he had his own way. (He usually did.) she had always looked lovely in white after all.

"I don't remember you complaining about that." She smugly resorted back to him, smiling to herself as he led her over to the car waiting for them.

Holding open the back door for her, hand hovering above her head to make sure she didn't bump it. Not sliding in beside her until he was sure that she was comfortable and buckled in.

He quickly joined her, nodding to the driver to let him know that they could leave now. Sighing happily as he retook her hand in his, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers absentmindedly. Imagining the day that she would wear the ring he gave her too.

They continued to playfully bicker and tease eachother the whole ride there , giggling between each other . Cherrie posing for max as he pulled out his phone to take photos of her before switching to the front camera, heads pressed together as they both grinned at the camera. Max already planning on setting that selfie as his new Lock Screen.

"You look so fucking good. You hurt my heart." He groaned a little as he helped her out of the car, eyes glued to the dress that she was wearing. Finding it a little harder to breath each time she turned his way.

Cherrie laughed loudly "hurt your heart? What the hell?" She repeated in confusion , amusement covering her face as they walked arm in arm up the stairs to the big mansion where the fancy event/party was being hosted.

Max just shrugged his shoulder as he gently pulled her hair to rest down her back, running his fingers through the ends softly to make sure that they were all neat again.

Before Smiling down at her "yes. Because everybody is going to look at you and want you. I wish you were just a little bit uglier. Why do you have to be so perfect?!" He jokingly said in acusing tone , as though it was her fault for being so hot.

She laughed and laughed, knocking her shoulder against his as she shook her head at him in pure amusement . Flattery making her beam. Pinching his still flushed cheek fondly , quickly kissing the pout away from his lips , not pulling away until he was smiling again.

"It doesn't matter. I'm with you aren't I?" She simply answered him. Kissing his jaw gently, barely able to pull herself away.

Max clearly felt the same, his arm heavy around her waist as they walked inside the ball room, neither of them paying attention to anyone around them. Lost in each other, as usual.

"I can't believe that you actually gave me a chance. I was shitting myself when I asked you out that morning after.." he admitted to her quietly, blushing darkly . "I was surprised that you were even there when I woke up.." he knew what a bad reputation she had, a trail of broken hearts behind her. But he didn't care because he had seen the way she looked at him , had her smile pressed so softly against his lips. He knew that this was real for the both of them.

But he had been nervous , the sickly kind of nervous too . But he knew he had to take the chance while he had it. She was wrapped up in his shirt in just her panties underneath , in his kitchen demanding that he make her some breakfast because she didn't know how to cook. All cool and casual as though the night long rounds of mind blowing sex they had didn't faze her at all.

Max's legs had still been shaking from both nerves and the fact that she had made him see stars.

She fucked like a pornstar, smugly and confidently. Giving (god, so much giving), and taking it all while he gladly let her consume him whole . Max had been speechless and had just let her take the lead.

She had given him the best night of his entire life . Winning a world championship didn’t even come remotely close to how she made him feel.

So appreciated. So free.

He didn't want to let her go. His skin was still tingling from her touch, her scratches down his back and her red lipstick stained all over his chest. He had weakly asked her 'breakfast date? Then dinner tonight?" Not expecting her to say yes.

But instead of laughing him out the door like he had expected her too. She had merely smiled at him then told him that Italian food was her favourite before dragging him into the shower with her. A brand new routine being built from scratch , all the stars finally aligning in their joint sky.

It was as simple and beautiful as that.

Max kept taking her out on dates , kept making her home made dinners so that she would want to keep coming back. She traded being a party girl for nights in with max and his cat.

Instead of sucking off some footballer in the back of the club , she was cuddled up in bed with max while watching a box set of modern family each night . And she loved it. Loved him. She felt like a completely new woman.

Only instead of all the freaky shit she used to do with other guys, she now only did it with max instead.

She had never pinned herself for a one man woman but apparently meeting max was all she needed to realise that she did want the disgustingly in love narrative . She wanted somebody to come home to, to share dinner with, to laugh with and judge other people with.

Max was her person . She was sure of it. She just knew it.

"I was surprised too. I was meant to be on a yacht with a Spanish footballer that night too.." she admitted to him, a sheepish smile on her face as she looked up at him. Not wanting to lie .

He knew what a hoe she had been, there was no point in denying it.

If anything max felt smug and proud that he was the one that made her finally settle down.

He had tamed the player. Him.

It felt nice. Sue him.

He felt especially smug as he felt the eyes of rich men and celebrities alike , all over Cherrie. Lust and awe in their gaze as they watched her laugh, max feeling pleased as she just leant into his side, kissing his bicep gently. Showing Everyman in that room just who she was with.

She wasn't free game anymore. She was taken for, much to the displeasure of others . An much to his endless delight.

He grinned happily.

"I'm glad you chose me. He was probably a dickhead anyways." He said to her smugly .

Cherrie nodded along with a grin "yeah. Now I have my own personal dickhead instead ." She replied , amused.

Max chuckled, kissing the side of her head affectionately. Barely able to keep his hands off her.

"Exactly. But I never pretended that I wasn't a dickhead. Just like you never pretended that you weren't a bitch." He stated, unbothered. "It's good that we're so honest with each other. You tell me if I dress like a wanker and I tell you that you're a little snob. We're perfect for each other." He told her with a small smirk on his face, so in love with her that it hurt.

Cherrie nodded proudly "we really are!"

"I'm just glad that you only fucked around with the footballers. If the other guys in f1 saw you , they would be all over you. I wouldn't have had a chance." He told her honestly , looking around the room for said drivers and friends.

Cherrie hummed a little "it wasn't just footballers." She liked all sports stars alike , a bad , bad habit . Sue her . "-but yeah that would be a bit awkward . I don't even know any of the other drivers..or what they look like. I think you're the only driver I've been with." She said, kind of proud of herself.

Max just laughed as he waved someone over "I would probably die a little inside otherwise. You're gonna meet some of them now. Here's Charles!" He smiled at the Ferrari driver coming there way, nudging his girlfriend to get her easily wandering attention again. "He drives for Ferrari. They're absolutely shit but he's a nice guy." He let her know.

Cherrie was too busy grabbing herself a champagne glass from a passing waiter, sipping on it as she looked around the room. Admiring the chandeliers and posh decor.

"Hey mate! How are you?" She heard another beautifully accented man say, max nudging her again gently.

"I'm good. This is my girlfriend Cherrie." He introduced her happily , wanting to show her off. Knowing that he had the hottest girl out of them all. He felt smug.

Cherrie slowly looked over at Charles, only to freeze in absolute horror as she met his startled eyes. Charles also pausing in his place with his glass halfway to his mouth, eyes widening comically at the sight of her.

"Oh my god." He breathed out in absolute shock, swallowing thickly as he blinked at Cherrie in disbelief. Going red immediately.

Cherrie could only inhale sharply , heart racing in her chest as she suddenly got flashbacks from last summer in Miami . Or rather, a wild night in the private toilets of a five star club. Which then continued to a wild night back at her hotel room too.

She couldn't believe it. It was just her luck that the guy that she had fucked and ducked in Miami was also a racing driver, who drove with max. Her boyfriend.

God. Kill her now.

She narrowed her eyes at him in a silent warning for him to not say a word. Poor max would be horrified if he found out that she had slept with someone he worked with. Someone that he was competing against too.

But How was she to know that the Charles that she had slept with last year was the same Charles who max often told her was getting screwed over by his own team?

What a small world. She thought dazedly, moving a little closer to poor Max's side. Who was none the wiser.

"Don't worry. Those were my first words when I met her too." Max said to him , grinning as he spotted another driver coming their way as well.

Charles couldn't say anything, still looking at her with wide eyes that were now nervously flickering begween her and max. A little paler than usual now.

"I'm gonna go get us some drinks. You want a cocktail?" Max asked Cherrie, stepping away from her, missing the panic in her eyes.

She nodded her head quickly "yes. Extra vodka please." Was all she could mutter, not looking away from his back as he walked away to the bar, leaving her to wonder what the hell she was supposed to do or say now.

Charles was the first one to address the rather large elephant now in the room.

Shuffling on his feet awkwardly , swallowing nervously as he muttered a strained "he's going to kill me."

Cherrie just scowled, finally looking back at him with hell in her eyes. "No he isn't because you're not going to say shit. I don't know you and you don't know me, okay?" She hissed at him underneath her breath. Not wanting what she had with max to be ruined just because she was a horny hoe last year.

That was in the past. Max was her future.

Charles looked at her in disbelief "don't know me? I passed out because of how good you blew me! I think we know each other pretty well!" He shot back , bright red in the face.

Both Mortified and honestly , a little turned on as he remembered that night with her. It had been the best sex of his life and he been more than a little sad when he woke up to find her gone without a single trace.

And now here she was, apparently Max's girlfriend? He couldn't believe it! What did max have that he didn't?!

"Nope. No." She insisted , stubbornly shaking her head .

Wishing she had tried harder to convince max to stay at home now. Christ was karma biting her in the ass right now. "What did you say your name was? Carl?" She acted oblivious, not looking at him.

Charles glared at her "it’s Charles!" But before he could complain some more he felt a familiar figure slide up beside him.

Pierre smiling at him for a moment before his face went towards Cherrie and he froze too, mouth dropping open as he let out a shocked gasp .

“star!" He exclaimed with wide eyes, going red right up to his ears .

Cherrie wanted to die.

Wishing the ground would swallow her whole as she looked on in absolute disbelief , feeling a little weak in the knees as she looked between the two handsome faces gaping back at her.

"No." She almost whimpered, not knowing whether to laugh ot cry. Oh my god. This couldn't be happening to her.

She looked frantically over her shoulder to see max still at the bar, her heart pounding in her chest at this nightmare now unfolding before her.

What the hell was going on? Was it release the one night stands night or something?

"Star?" Charles wondered in confusion, frowning at Pierre . "Who's that?"

Pierre was equally as confused, looking at Cherrie with wide eyes. "Star!" He motioned to Cherrie as though it was obvious "this is the woman I was telling you about in Vegas!" He grinned , his eyes a little dazed as he remembered that night with her.

It was official. Cherrie wanted to die. Kill her now.

Charles scoffed , eyeing her judgmentally "her names not star mate. This is cherrie. Max's girlfriend." He told him .

Pierre gasped In horror "no! Holy shit! I slept with Max's girlfriend?!" He almost squealed in fear.

Cherrie glared coldly "no. I didn't know max then! Will you shut the hell up and keep your voice down? I don't need everybody to know the mistakes I made last summer!" She snapped at them, panicking.

Charles looked offended "mistake? Are you calling me a mistake?!" He frowned at her, hurt.

Cherrie couldn't care less about anybody other than max. Sporting her boyfriend coming back over to them with a tray full of drinks, she almost bolted right there and then.

What was the chances of this happening to her? Apparently she had a thing for f1 drivers. Without even knowing it.

She did have a type.

But to her defence it wasn't like she asked for their occupation before sucking their dick! It wasn't all her fault!

Not really.

"Yes! You both are! Do not say a word! It meant nothing. It was just a one night stand. Shut up!" She warned them quickly .

Plastering a smile on her face as max slid in beside her, passing her a cocktail with a oblivious smile on his face.

She took it from him and didn't waste a single second before downing it. Max raising his eyebrow as he watched his girlfriend pass back the glass, taking the glass of champagne from him as well.

He looked between them in confusion, noticing the way that neither Pierre or Charles would look at him. Both red in the face and shifting on their feet like nervous teenagers.

"You okay?" He checked in, kissing the side of her head gently.

Cherrie made a strangled noise, "yeah. Totally. I'm cool. So cool!" She let out a weird laugh , tugging at the collar of her dress "is it getting hotter in here or is it just me?!"

"You know what they say. Liar liar pants on fire." Charles couldn't help but mutter. Making max look over at him in confusion.

"What? Why do you say that?" He wanted to know , protective as ever about the love of his life. Passing her another champagne glass without saying a word once she handed back the empty one to him .

Pierre laughed loudly, jabbing Charles in the side. "Nothing! He's joking! He’s Just er- saying that Cherrie is hot!" He tried to help, he really did. But he was only making it worse.

Even Cherrie looked at him in disbelief , max unimpressed as he looked beteeen the two suspiciously.

"You're talking about how hot my girlfriend is?" There was a clear warning to be careful there.

But poor, ego bruised Charles don't hear it. Still pouting to himself, pride hurt.

He muttered "what do you call her? Lucy? Diana? Morticia?" Sarcastically.

"Shut up asshole!" Cherrie snapped at him before she could stop herself. Glaring at him.

Max looked at her in shock "woah! What? What the hells going on? I was only gone for five minutes!" He exclaimed. Hating being out of the loop.

His girlfriend looked both horrified and pissed off , while Charles and Pierre looked annoyed and terrified at the same time.

Clearly he was missing something. But what? As far he knew, they had never even met before.

"Well, sometimes some people can't last five minutes! Not even three!" She looked at Charles as she said it. Done with his glowering . Throwing back another glass of booze. Her already no filter, filter completely gone.

Pierre snickered a little while Charles glare deepened, max just looking between them in pure confusion and Annoyance.

"Well, with someone as expiernced as you , it's hard! What number on the list was I that night?!" He shot back at her. Also drunk and manly pride wounded.

Max frowned, slowly beginning to work things out.

He felt his heart drop to his stomach. Groaning loudly in disgust "no! For Fucks sake!" He cursed in disbelief, looking down at his girlfriend in absolute horror.

"not Charles! I thought you said you hadn't hooked up with any of the other drivers!" He almost shouted, feeling a little sick at the thought of.. them... doing that.

Only he wanted to do that to her.

Cherrie looked at him with wide eyes "how was I supposed to know?! I didn't ask them what that did for a living! I was drunk! I would have fucked anyone!" She defended herself terribly.

Max just gaping at her in disbelief "that doesn't help me! Hold on-" he gasped before looking over to a unusually quite Pierre , who paled terribly when he met his gaze "no.."

Pierre grimaced "sorry man. She told me her name was star! I didn't know she was your girl!" He quickly told him. Liking his face as it was.

Cherrie scoffed , rolling her eyes at them angrily "I wasn't his girl! I don't know you then max!" She reminded her horrified boyfriend "and I lied because I didn't want to see you again! Duh!" She hissed at the Frenchman. Regretting being such a whore now.

It didn't feel so good when faced with the love of her life and two ex one night stands like this.

Max inhaled deeply, rubbing his hand over his face with a tortured groan. "God Cherrie!" He didn't know what to say or what to even feel other than sick.

"please tell me that's it? You didn't happen to tongue Christian as well did you?" He sarcastically muttered, downing his own drink now. Also wishing that he had let her persuade him to stay home, they could have avoided this mess.

Cherrie glared at him dangerously"don't even max-"

"Hey guys! Wow- you could cut the tension with a knife!" A new voice joined in, breaking apart their glaring contest. Sounding amused "what's-" Lando Inserted himself with a grin.

Looking around the group curiously before pausing when his eyes finally landed on Cherrie. Who just took one look at him and groaned miserably , throwing her hands over her face as she tried not to scream in frustration .

No. Fuck no. This has to be a nightmare!

"Cherrie?" Lando wondered with a joyful grin "haven't seen you since Italy!" He obliviously said.

Max's face dropped even further . Side eyeing his grimacing, horrified girlfriend and landos cheeky grin, he squeezed his eyes shut in disbelief .

Pursing his lips tightly as he let out a strained groan , whining "no. No. No! Cherrie please! Tell me that I'm wrong!" He pleaded to her weakly. Stomach turning.

It was the consequences of her own actions finally pulling up.

She leaned back against the wall behind her before she could collapse in a bundle of regret , swallowing thickly as she looked at her boyfriend with a face full of guilt.

"It-I- he-" she stammered in disbelief , unable to believe that this was happening . If it was anyone else this was happening to, she would have laughed and laughed and laughed.

“I had no idea." Was all she could repeat

quietly . In shock.

Meanwhile Lando had finally clicked on "oh no." He mumbled guiltily , looking at max with a grimace "is this the 'love of your life?'" He asked him worriedly, eyes going between the two of them.

Max slowly nodded   his head, trying to breathe through the misery. "Yes. It is." He simply answered.

Downing another glass in one go. Quickly grabbing another. Understand why she had done it now too.

But there wasn’t a bottle big enough for this drama, no amount of vodka would make him feel better now.

“Let me guess? In the toilets?" He muttered blandly. Shaking his head to himself. Having the worst day of his life right then.

Lando winced "no." He hesitantly glanced back over to a speechless Cherrie who was just looking up at the ceiling , mind empty. Just horrified.

“On the rooftop underneath the stars." He blurted out . All three drivers shifting nervously on their feet as they eyed max warily.

Max just laughed loudly "how romantic." He sarcastically muttered .

Side eyeing Cherrie judgmentally again "I don't know whether to laugh or to cry." He let her know.

She just swallowed "me neither. I can't-"

"This is why we do date nights at home." He said to her, both a little amused but mostly horrified . He then looked at the three drivers with a dark glare.

"well I hope you can all erase your nights with her from your mind because it ain't happening again. In fact .." he pulled her further away from them, jealously tightly gripping his chest in a vice as denial started kicking in quickly .

“nothing happened between you guys and the love of my life at all! You haven't kissed my girlfriend nor have you put your tiny shrimp dicks in her-"

"Hey! My Dick is perfectly normal size-" Charles defended . Pierre nodded along "yeah."

Lando was the only to stay quite, simply grimacing to himself as he looked between max and Cherrie , speechless. And amused. And trying not to giggle at the horribly awkward situation they had found themselves in.

“I still have a necklace that you left behind. With the flowers on." He let her know quietly .

Cherrie looked at him in surprise , angst dropping for a moment as she grinned back at him , relieved.

"really? I thought I lost it! Thank you for keeping it.."

Lando smiled at her "it’s alright! It's in my suitcase somewhere. At my hotel.” He told her nicely.

"I can come collect it in the morning-"

Max let out a sharp laugh , shaking his Head at them sternly . "absolutely not. You're never being alone with any of them again! I will get your necklace.." he glared darkly at Lando "which you randomly found because you have never met my girlfriend before." The denial was sinking in deep now.

Everyone had there copying mechanisms , his was pretending that his girlfriend hadn’t fucked all three of his friends last summer.

Cherrie just rolled her eyes "okay. As horrifying lovely as this has been. I want to go home and scream into my pillow. Maybe suffocate myself with it.” She told them bluntly , turning her head to look at max hopefully "can we go?" She pleaded.

Max let out a loud sigh of relief "yes. Absolutely yes!" He didn't even look at the other drivers "you've met some of them now. And you didn't like them which is okay. We can leave because they're boring you." He rambled on, downing what was left of his glass. Planning to open another bottle when they got home, also planning to fuck the thought of anybody else but him out of her mind.

"Denial wouldn't change the fact that she's sucked all of our dicks." Charles blurted out. Ignoring landos face palm and pierres hissed warning.

Max just let out a strained chuckle "denial is keeping me from killing you Charles. Plus you can't have been that good seeing as she ran away from you eh?" He reminded him coldly. Hooking his arm tightly through cherries, his gaze set on the exit door.

Needing to drink, cry and fuck the love of his life until he felt better. That was the plan.

Maybe some therapy for the both of them too.

"Sex with you sucks." Cherrie agreed , nodding her head along.

Before looking at a nervous Lando and giving him a sweet smile "you were good though. Ten out of ten would recommend." She said kindly. Hoping that they could be friends.

Lando beamed . Blushing at her praise . "Thanks-"

Max dragged her away even quicker "fucks sake! Shut up! Why did you have to be such a whore last summer?!" He whined. Hurrying her to the door as fast as he could .

Cherrie just shrugged "girls are players too. But look at me now!" She weakly grinned "all settled down! Who would have thought?"

Max just rolled his eyes at her "nobody apparently..you're so lucky that you're the love of my life! Otherwise this night would have ended very differently." He hissed at her, rubbing stressfully at his forehead. Feeling a stress headache coming on.

Just before they could escape, a loud voice reached their ears. Max pausing to glance over his shoulder, only to see fernando grinning over at Cherrie happily.

"Cherrie! I haven't seen you since Spain! It's rude to leave a guy naked and alone in bed you know!" He laughed cheekily While winking at her.

Cherrie could only wince deeply , guiltily avoiding eye contact with a incredulous max who opened and closed his mouth several times before letting out loud, slightly manic laugh.

"No. Just no! I can't take anymore!" He shouted hysterically , looking down at his girlfriend in pure exasperation .

“Fernando too?! How busy was your summer?!" He picked her up , threw her over his shoulder , ignoring her startled shriek as he carried her out of there before another driver could stop them and say that they had missed her too.

Cherrie clutched onto his neck as he rushed them straight back to their car , kissing his cheek apologetically . Max just glaring at her as he threw her down in her seat, still fastening her seatbelt for her despite how furious he was .

“A very busy summer." she whispered sheepishly , t her fingers with his hesitantly . "love you." she guilty muttered to him. Smiling like a naughty little child who had been caught eating all the candy left in the jar.

max just groaned lowly and rested his head on her shoulder , squeezing his eyes shut tightly .

“i love you. and I’m going to wake io to see that none of this even happened and that this was all one big nightmare." He whined miserably , pouting as he let her kiss all over his face , muttering giggled , whispered apologies against his burning skin.

it wasn’t .

whoops.

#f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 fic #f1 oneshot #formula 1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen oneshot

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

hi, im a mutual of yours who is too shy/on&off tumblr to interact, but i do look up to you; and your blog and way of seeing things helped me in the past when i was struggling quite a bit.

Lately I feel as if im lost in life, lost my passions and floating aimlessly without a real goal, detached from the future etc. Do you have any advice? I appreciate ur view on things, hope this isnt overstepping 🌦🌈

hi its ok no pressure too interact w me ona personal level just cus were mutuals i enjoy the ambient bonds that can form on this website its why i stay ^^ and no it's not overstepping at a;ll sorry it took me a lil while to respond i was trying to think of good advice since i often feel lost too---

well firs t n foremost to give credit where credit is due, this bjork reddit AMA response really gets to the bottom of it , ever since i first read this here on tumbr a few years ago it really rly stuck w me:

the way this answer helped me is like, it helped me realize i dont need to be so regimented i dont need to put all this pressure on myself to create..All that does is feed into self inflicted guilt when i cant live up to my own expectations u.u you see for my whole life i've never been able to plan anything. yes i can think about the next steps i want to take, i can assemble a plan, i can see the logical way forward, but my moods. or like, idek. how to explain..

i cant force anything. if im not feeling it, i cant force it. ive STRUGGLED w this like i dont wanna be this way. because my feelings i cant predict. like for example i worked on music all winter because thats what i was feeling. then suddenly in march i just like, wasnt feeling it all of a sudden. As soon as it hit me i was like Fy767*T&UG*** because i didnt know when it was gonna come back. i still dont know!! im just trying to be patient waiting it out..in the mean time i have suddenly become enthused with drawing again after not ~feeling~ drawing for most of 2023. sometimes i go for weeks where i dont take a single photo and then suddenly it starts flowing again.. my website was also left untouched for most of 2023 until recently.

thats just one example of this repeating pattern in my life that i didnt understand for so long. theres years of my 20s where i couldnt feel passion for anything at all, looking back now i believe those times i was meant to be focusing on stuff in my psyche that needed healing to clear out some headspace for art. and this bjork quote put a lot into perspective it showed me how to reformulate my thinking to be more accomodating to my disposition. when i'm patient & kind w myself, take each day as it comes, let go of the imaginary pressure, let go of "the future", stuff starts to come thru easier.

and maube its gonna show up in ways you dont expect but its true that the mundane world offers so many ways to practice being creative & giving u stuff to weave into the art u want to create.. every water fall starts w a single drop its trueits true :] thats my advice i spose i really didnt meant to write this much but im boooored.. actually my nighttime boredom writing is one of those habits i never considered to b creative until very recently. there's so many small & automatic things we do that can lead to a meaningful life & purpose.

thanks for the question anon i hope this helps in some way , this is whats helped me but everyone's process is different. and i still have moments where im like WTFFF is happening but its easier to ride it out now. i wish the same for you just give it time <3 thanks again xPmd9

[scarafrisbee]

–and they ask, is he your boyfriend? -> thoma x gn!celeb!reader

syn: you're a famous celebrity on the red carpet, signing for fans until you encounter a certain someone...

/ cute stuff, fluff???, kisses (ish), modern au, lower case intended, not proof read, pet names? (angel, love)

/ i'm back (like anybody cares) (the last time i posted a fic was almost a year ago) (idek what happened to me nd my crush) (lol not rlly they gave me a love letter earlier today) (valentines special??? lol)

the lights are bright enough to blur your vision; if you were new to this industry that is. walking on the red carpet, the fans scream your name and all eyes are on you. you're all too familiar, really. and of course, with fame comes with its own hurdles— like people prying into your personal life, invading general privacy or trying to figure out who the hell you may or may not be dating.

of no surprises, there's fans and other people on the barricades sticking out arms with items for you to sign. plenty of people screaming you, your name and whatever they can to catch your attention. nobody in particular catches your eye as you approached and signed their items with a smile, until you see him.

his endearing green eyes, charming smile— and who else would it be, none other than thoma? you adore him like nothing and nobody more. he's like the honey to your bitter tea, making everything better.

at this point, you've signed plenty of things. books, posters, even some people's phone cases or something. fans will always find a way to make your brain spin, don't they?

thoma smiles right at you, his hand out with a simple novel. "angel!" he blurts out with a silly lovestruck grin, "how have you been?" thoma asks, succeeding at painting a silly grin on your lips.

— he's your rock, staying with you all times. through now, then and every second he can in the counting future.

thoma looks at you with equal adoration, his eyes crinkling into a smile. "better," you responded with a quiet chuckle.

with the marker you held and signed a plenty of items with, you took the novel and signed it. thoma acts as though he was a regular fan, and not like your boyfriend.

looking upon the book before giving it back, it was one of those silly romance-centric works. cute little rom-com with no hopes and dreams crushed! wow. you could describe your dearest thoma that way, no? unapologetically loving, and all too generous.

very generous. and very sappy.

much so as he pulls you in with a smile, your heart fluttering upon a simple kiss on the amidst the flashing lights. cameras everywhere catch the moment as you shimmy off thoma with a laugh— "hey love, hey- not here!" you said in a whispery tone, gently rubbing your cheek.

your attention goes on elsewhere; you continue down the scarlet path, and like all events, reach the entrance to disappear into the depths of these rich companies and their events. you bid goodbye to those who border the barricades, walking in within the walls of many could only dream of coming inside.

all the while you enjoy your party and wine that would cost the regular person a lung, you encounter more people. interviewers, people with practically hearts in their eyes and the soft chatter of other around you.

the night is relatively peaceful after that, thankfully. nothing irregular could happen after, surely.

— what a ruckus you have made.

peace or chaos, whatever it is, it's basically a whole phenomena the day tomorrow. you wake up to posts about you and thoma, and that little cheek kiss he gave you the previous few hours before.

no wonder your phone's been blowing up all night and day. what is happening to the world?

"love? did you check twitter?" you asked thoma later that day, tilting your head in slight confusion. you're not exactly sure what's going on in the internet as of current...

"yeah, i said i was your boyfriend." thoma continued as he chuckled, "your fans just need you to confirm it."

note;; wowowow after a decade (10 months) and a difficult period in my life (i was just too busy) i finally post smth !!! wow. aaaaaa this was js to my get writing going again, i hope to post moree

#genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #thoma x reader #thoma x you #scarafrisbee.com/writing

[tarisilmarwen]

Title: Starmaps and Hyperspace Eyes

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Rating: T

Pairing/Relationships: Ezra/Sabine

Character(s): Ezra Bridger, Sabine Wren, Ahsoka Tano, Grand Admiral Thrawn

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama

Summary: Across the cosmos, his mind calls to hers

AO3, FFNet

Idek what this is, the WIP attacked my leg and gnawed on me until I wrote it so here, have some Sabezra angst and star-crossed soulmates type drama or something while I try to figure out how to be funny for the crack!fic I was supposed to be working on.

Enjoy?

---

I took the stars from my eyes and then I made a map...

***

They waited on the darkened bridge, illuminated by the still valiantly struggling emergency lights and one panel that would not, no matter how many times they attempted to fix it, stop sparking erratically. Despite the calm of the white-clad Chiss Admiral standing by the navigation station there was a palpable nervous energy in the room, crew glancing anxiously at each other and towards the door, still bent and half-open from when it had been forcibly pried apart in the moments just after their disastrous unguided first return to realspace.

Finally, footsteps began echoing from down the hallway.

A small cadre of Stormtroopers, escorting one Ezra Bridger, slipped through the gap between the warped doors and made their way down into the pit to the navigation station, and the waiting Grand Admiral Thrawn.

The Chiss tilted his head to acknowledge the troopers and their prisoner, red eyes glimmering in the dark. "Please sit, Commander Bridger," he said, tone polite, formal.

The troopers released his arms and with reluctance, Ezra came and took up the seat in front of the console, dropping heavily into it. A familiar, practiced motion by now.

He looked up at Thrawn with resentful eyes. "Do I get to have the cuffs off this time?" he asked, voice dripping with snark, raising his bound hands pointedly.

Thrawn said nothing. Didn't move. Didn't blink.

"Of course," Ezra sighed, dropping his hands and eyes back down.

Thrawn leaned forward, uncomfortably close over his shoulder. "I want to try a longer jump this time," he said, placidly, pointing to the display that showed their incomplete starmap. "Two parsecs. From here to approximately..." He slid his finger up to a blank spot on the map. "...here."

Ezra grimaced. "Hope you're ready for me to be out of commission twice as long, then," he muttered.

The Grand Admiral did not reply, merely stepped back, barking orders up at the crew as he took up command position on the walkway. Shuffling movement ensued, as personnel silently carried out the commands.

With a muted groaning and creaking, the hum of the Chimaera's sublight engines thrummed to life, slowly turning the aching ship to its new heading.

Ezra lay his hands on the console quietly, fingers curling into loose fists. With nervous apprehension he glanced back briefly at the troopers behind, their blasters already pointed towards the back of his head, then forward again towards the metal bulkheads sealed over the shattered windows, trying to picture the field of stars beyond. The pit of his stomach rolled uncomfortably but there was nothing he could do to hesitate or stall. The hyperdrive engines were building up to a pitch.

Inhaling slowly, he banished the nerves, focusing. Breathe in and out, let his emotions dissipate. Empty himself. Reach out.

He closed his eyes, warm edges tingling around his head. Thrawn was giving the order to initiate the jump but he couldn't even really hear it. In a moment the bridge of the Chimaera faded out, disappearing into so much background nothing behind him, and the blue hyperspace tunnel opened out before him in the Force.

The rush was dizzying, streaks of light and shadow flying past his head. Past the buffeting winds of hyperspace stars and planets rolled like bright comets streaking by. He concentrated on the wavering path in front of them, feeling out for obstacles in the way.

It was so much harder on his own. With the purrgil it had been easy, all they needed was a vague direction and they picked their way through the ebbs and flurries of the chaotic subspace with honed natural instinct, their will entwined around his and carrying him along. They were the ones guiding and steering the ship, all he was doing was holding it together, holding the air inside the bridge, holding Thrawn and the door in place, he didn't know where they were going; he was just along for the ride.

And he'd tried to explain that to Thrawn, tried to tell him over and over, "No it's different.", he hadn't been controlling the purrgil, he couldn't navigate like they could. But Thrawn was insistent and so Ezra had spent almost a week unconscious in the medbay after the first short near-blind hyperspace jump.

He could feel the strain already pressing on his head, the weight on his mind and lungs as he struggled to see through the whipping tendrils of subspace, glimpse far enough ahead, keeping his mind wide open. The Force filled every crack of his being, imparting to him where to turn, where to nudge, coordinates flowing seamlessly from it through him to the navicomputer somehow.

He pictured the starmap in his mind, tracing a slow trail through it. The navicomputer latched onto the forms and shapes in the void that he picked out, marking them, charting them and changing them into map data.

It was intricate, meticulous work.

Ezra's thoughts drifted, despite himself. His head felt unmoored in this state, disconnected from his body, from himself. His mind pulled in a million different directions, watching space and time and stars pass by his dizzy eyes. He was everywhere at once, untethered, drifting in the vast cosmos.

A warning tingle resounded through his head, and though he couldn't hear it he knew the ship was straining under the duress of hyperspace. Ezra firmed his mental grip on it, holding it together, holding every support beam, wire, bolt, and rivet in place as he maneuvered around the stellar obstacles in their path.

He knew he couldn't keep this up much longer. Had it been two parsecs? He couldn't tell. Didn't matter now anyway, the strain was crushing the sides of his temples and making his focus slip. The shadows and ether passed by more slowly, their speed faltering, the void beyond turning.

Time and space were coming to a stall. He was losing his grasp on the Chimaera and her way forward.

Before his fingers fully loosened and he surrendered to the bliss of oblivion he couldn't help but reach back, far, far across the distance, stretching, reaching out, finding among the thousands of stars the one that signaled home.

His mind nudged a single thought out. Towards Lothal. Towards her. He didn't know if she could hear him, but he whispered it anyway, calling out.

Sabine.

***

A sharp gasp escaped her as her eyes opened to the darkened room.

For several long minutes Sabine blinked, still hearing the echo in her head. The night was long and deep; shadows draped blue across the floor.

Slowly, she pushed the cover aside and sat up.

Sabine swung her feet down from the cot, setting them on the floor as she rubbed her face, smearing her eyes.

His voice was stuck in her ears, the memory of a whisper. A void of stars hung before her mind's eye, the lingering traces of the dream.

It had to have been a dream.

She wasn't unaccustomed to dreaming about him. The long Lothal nights often turned the sound of the wind into his voice, the shadows into his shape. But something had felt... different about this. The image lingered in her head, tension and pressure pulling at her temples, resting right between her brows.

She sat and sat and rubbed her eyes, and waited for the shadows of sleep to drop off her. As she grew more alert though, the image in her head grew sharper. Clearer. An agitated buzz pulled at her ears. Her heel bounced, restless.

With a frustrated growl, realizing she'd never be able to fall back asleep, she stood up from the bed and crossed the room sharply, throwing on a couple lights. Warm yellow beamed out and bounced softly off the corners, chasing away the blue of night. The scraggy Loth-cat curled up on the sketchbooks on the worktable twitched one of its bird-like claws, cooing sleepily. Sabine stalked past him to the cabinet with her spray cans, tugging open the doors.

She grabbed cans of color without really looking at them, searching the other side of the room for a spot on the wall with enough clear space. There was a patch right by Ezra's old kitchen unit that she'd only marked with a few charcoal scribbles.

Shaking the canisters in her hands as she approached, Sabine furrowed her brows in concentration, picturing the imprint of star clusters and patterns left in her mind.

With determined, deliberate strokes, she started covering that section of the wall in oily black.

***

Dawn was trickling in through the windows by the time Sabine stepped back, exhaling heavily, the tingles which had been vibrating at fever pitch around her head beginning to subside, like coming down off a caf high.

Well, she'd painted it, whatever it was. The image was out of her head now, sprayed across the durasteel wall of the tower, a patchwork of space pulled straight from a nature holo.

Sabine stared at it, eyes hard. There were blue and purple patches, from a nebula arm maybe, clusters of stars that could have been constellations.

But it wasn't anything she knew or recognized. It was a pretty picture, sure, but it was nothing to her.

Frustrated, Sabine tossed the spray cans onto the worktable, stirring her furry companion. The Loth-cat yawned wide and stretched out its thin legs, shaking out its head. Sabine leaned her hips back on the table, faint smile stirring as she reached to give the creature chin scritches.

The soft tangled fur on her fingers soothed her a little, and Sabine calmed enough to take another look at the painting.

She still didn't recognize anything about it, but she couldn't shake the sense that it was important. The image had been so vivid, nothing like her normal dreams, no sense of blur or disorientation. And his voice...

Sabine screwed her eyes against the sudden heat threatening there. The swell of emotions that welled up in her was hot and uncomfortable for several seconds, before she gently forced it back down.

She sat for a long moment before sighing, realizing what she needed to do.

She gave the Loth-cat a last good pat on its wispy head before pulling out her comlink, straightening up off the table and bringing the device up to her mouth.

"Specter 5 to Fulcrum, come in," she called over the channel.

There was a quiet crackle of static for a second or two and then Ahsoka replied.

"Sabine." The concerned tone in the woman's voice and her complete dispensing of their codenames keened Sabine even more to the notion that she was onto something. "What is it?"

Inhaling slowly, Sabine let a hand drift up to tangle in her hair.

"I... think... I think I had some kind of vision."

***

Ahsoka pursed her lips as she listened to the young woman describe it.

"I wasn't standing on anything, but I wasn't floating either," Sabine told her. "I was just... there, in this vast starry void. It felt massive. Like it stretched out forever. I should have felt tiny, but I didn't. I can't explain it." A soft breath on the other side of the line. "Anyway, there were clusters of cloud and dust, a nebula maybe, and stars in patterns I could almost see and... I heard him."

"Ezra?" Ahsoka guessed.

"He called out to me. His voice was in my head and my ears at the same time. It was just a whisper, but it was so close , Ahsoka. Like he was right next to me."

She heard the emotion in Sabine's voice, the way her voice wavered and cracked towards the end, and felt a swell of pity and sympathy. Ezra's disappearance had been hard on all the remaining members of the Ghost crew, but Sabine especially. Even now, across the distance, Ahsoka could feel her presence in the Force scraping with heartbreak.

"That's not normal, right?" Sabine pressed anxiously. "I thought non-sensitives couldn't get Force visions."

"Hmm," she considered. "The Force speaks to everyone, non-sensitives included but... not usually in outright visions. You are a bit more open to the Force than most regular people, though."

"So am I hallucinating or is there something actually to this?"

Ahsoka took a moment to answer. Sabine was still in a... delicate stage in her grief; Ahsoka didn't want to give her any false hopes.

"I'm not sure. You and Ezra did share a close bond, but I've never heard of a Jedi being able to communicate in visions with a non-Jedi." Ahsoka chuckled. "But then I also never expected to be pulled out of time and space into a starvoid only accessible by a portal in the rock of an ancient Jedi temple," she quipped.

"So you're saying...?" Sabine asked.

"That the Force continues to be endlessly mysterious," Ahsoka said.

An aggravated huff came from the other end. "Thanks," Sabine muttered flatly.

Ahsoka grimaced. All right, so 'playful' wasn't the right approach. Time to be more sympathetic. "You said you painted it?" she said, changing the subject.

"Right when I woke up, yeah," Sabine confirmed.

"See if you can send a picture to me. I'll take a look," she promised.

A relieved exhale. "Thanks, Ahsoka," Sabine said again, more genuinely. "I know it might be nothing but..." She trailed off and Ahsoka heard a world of unspoken sorrow and emotion in the unsaid words.

"We'll see," she just said.

***

Sabine had interrupted Ahsoka midway through her morning meditation, so Ahsoka slipped back into her meditative trance for another half hour before running a set of lightsaber katas and then heading to the ship's galley. She heated up a bowl of quick-noodles and took it back up to her room, nodding politely at the helmsman and miscellaneous crew present.

As she shoveled the noodles into her mouth, she heard a ping from the transmitter. Idly, she leaned over on her seat, waking the device up to see what it had received.

Sabine's picture had come through. Ahsoka routed it to the small holoprojector and clicked, letting the image spring up into flickering blue-lit detail.

Studying it a moment her eyes widened and she almost dropped her bowl.

Her fork clattered noisily on the porcelain as she put her breakfast aside, tightness in her throat and chest, a frail beating note of realization pulsing through her montrals.

She knew that image.

***

"It's from an old holodocumentary on Wild Space we watched when we were Younglings in the Temple," she explained to Sabine in a hurried, excited rush, once she'd pried the young woman off-planet, raced to rendezvous with her shuttle midway. ("This is highly irregular," the droid pilot had grumbled, upon receiving the orders to dock with Ahsoka's New Republic cruiser.) She shuffled through the stacks of flimsi scattered on her desk to find the datapads buried underneath, rifling through them to find the one she was looking for. "It was narrated by Isla Freen, the explorer and nature photographer. She was one of the only people to venture out into the farthest reaches of galactic space in order to record and document what was out there."

Sabine watched Ahsoka with wide, bewildered eyes full of disbelief. "You mean what I saw, what I painted... it's a real place?" she asked.

Ahsoka nodded, scrolling quickly on the datapad she held now. "There was some controversy about that. Isla's navigation data was lost in a hardware crash. She spent months making blind hyperspace jumps, trying to get back to the areas she'd photographed. But look!"

She turned the pad around, showing Sabine a gorgeous full-color picture of a blue and purple nebula against a backdrop of white stars.

Sabine startled, gasping.

"See?" Ahsoka said, animated. "The angle is different, you can't see as much of the nebula in your painting, but Sabine... that's the same general spot." She stepped back, tucking the datapad against her chest, eyes alight. "I think, wherever he is, Ezra somehow managed to communicate his location with you."

Sabine's eyes were shimmering, the light of some long-suppressed hope gleaming in them. But a moment later she shook herself, shook her head. "How does that help us, Ahsoka?" she asked. "You said it yourself, the navigation data was lost. If this place does actually exist, how are we supposed to find it?" she cried.

Smiling softly, Ahsoka moved to her side, clicking to another picture on her datapad. "By trusting that Ezra will reach out again," she said. She showed Sabine the image on her pad, a star chart with a section on the edge of the galaxy circled in green. "Isla narrowed it down to this quadrant," she explained, tracing a finger on the circled part. "If we cross reference this area with Ezra's likely last trajectory from Lothal, we've got a starting point."

Sabine was biting her lip hard, eyes pinched as she looked at the datapad.

She didn't speak for a long time.

"It's a better lead than we've had in months," Ahsoka pointed out calmly.

That prompted her to take a slow inhale. "You're right," she admitted softly. Her hands wrung by her sides, fingers softly scraping her palms. Her voice shook slightly, with conviction and resolve. "Ezra called to me... the least I can do is try to answer."

Ahsoka's smile grew. She stepped away, getting things organized on her desk again.

"Then let's not waste any time," she said.

***

Ezra came to and immediately regretted it, becoming quickly aware of the massive migraine pounding away at his skull.

He groaned, the sound muted at first as his hearing came back, and clamped his eyes tighter against the pain.

Beyond the throbbing in his head, his body ached in the familiar way it did when he'd overtaxed his Force abilities, a tingling, prickly kind of exhaustion that he could feel down to his bones. The softness of the medical cot beneath him was enticing, and he sorely wanted to just sink back into it and fall asleep again, but he forced himself to wake up, prying open and blinking his eyes.

The sterile white overhead lights wouldn't focus, and were too bright. Ezra groaned again as he heaved himself up with effort and sat upright. His hands weren't strapped down this time at least, he noticed, as he brought them up to his face and mashed them over his abused eyes, but a jingle when he shifted told him one of his ankles was cuffed to the bed.

He rubbed massaging circles into his head, loose strands of his hair tickling his fingers. It was getting longer than he preferred, but cutting it back to its normal short-cropped length hadn't exactly been a priority for the Imperials, and of course they hadn't let him have any blades or scissors to cut it himself. If this kept up much longer he'd have the untidy mop of his younger years back, and he knew Sabine would tease him for it when she found him.

If she found him. When.

Force, his head hurt.

Ezra waited for his disorientation to fade, slowly blinking his eyes until his vision stabilized. He wasn't surprised when a blue blur to his right resolved into the figure of Thrawn, sitting by his bedside. The Grand Admiral seemed in a bit more disarray than usual, uniform minutely rumpled in places, a couple frazzled strands of hair falling out of place from his neat comb. Ezra could feel a strain off him in the Force too, a controlled anxiety that vibrated under the man's otherwise outward calm.

Thrawn nodded to acknowledge him, briefly and curtly. "Bridger," he said.

Ezra's head decided to throb again, out of rebellious irritation.

"How long was I out this time?" Ezra asked through another groan, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyebrows.

"Two days," Thrawn replied coolly.

Ezra glanced up at him, surprised. "Really?" That didn't seem right. The first couple jumps had taken him each about a week to recover and wake up, and Thrawn was only testing his abilities then, taking the Chimaera for short hops to prove concept of theory.

"We managed to locate a small carton of emergency stim canisters," Thrawn explained. He waved a hand vaguely towards the medic, standing at attention nearby at the foot of the bed. "Dr. Teanna was able to dilute them and administer the stim intravenously, to aid in your recovery. As you can see, the treatment significantly reduced the time you spent unresponsive."

Ezra curled himself a little tighter, flicking eyes forward warily at the woman, not quite comfortable with the idea that Imperial doctors had been improvising experimental medical treatments on him under Thrawn's orders while he was unconscious. He could feel the itch of the bandage across the back of his right hand now, pulling a little with every movement of his fingers. He resisted the urge to scratch it off, swallowing down his revulsion.

Stirring, Thrawn sat up a bit straighter in his seat, pulling a datapad up from his lap. He turned the screen around to show Ezra a starmap of their current whereabouts, the Chimaera's path plotted neatly in a dotted line on it.

"I have run a series of calculations, using the data from our previous jumps, to statistically determine the variety of star systems we are likely to encounter in this sector and their approximate locations," Thrawn monotoned on. "Under this analysis, I believe I have identified three potential systems with G-Type yellow dwarfs and planets in their habitable zones." He tapped a finger on the star chart, at a spot that looked at present like wide empty space. "The closest one to us is about here."

Ezra looked where Thrawn was pointing, blanching a little at how far away it was from the dot that showed their last position. Nervous flutters passed through him.

Clinically, Thrawn set the datapad aside. "Once you are up," he said, in a tone that sounded very final and firm, "that will be our heading."

Ezra's stomach dropped, his mouth falling open slightly with horror, eyes pinching. He strained to look at the chart on the datapad again, despair bleeding through him.

Too far, it was too far, the Chimaera would never make that distance, he couldn't hold it together and navigate a course that long, the ship would shatter into pieces in hyperspace, he would shatter, he had only just woken up from his last Force exhaustion coma and Thrawn already wanted him to—

Swallowing back the feel of bile at the back of his throat, Ezra met eyes with Thrawn, silently begging.

"I can't," he wavered.

Red eyes stared back at him without emotion. "That was not a request," Thrawn said, voice terse, pinched.

Was the man trying to kill him?! Ezra shook his head, nails curling and digging into his forehead. "I can't!" he repeated, almost whining. "I told you, I wasn't trained for—it's way too far, I—I won't be able—"

"I believe you are capable, Bridger," Thrawn interrupted. "Regardless of whether you believe so or not, you will return to the bridge as soon as you are capable of standing," he ordered.

Ezra dropped eyes to his lap, pressing hands over his face as if he could block the man out. "You should just shoot me, it'd be much quicker," he muttered.

Unexpectedly, Thrawn seized his right wrist, pulling it away from his head and squeezing hard.

"Bridger," he hissed, immediately commanding Ezra's full attention. Thrawn's red eyes were narrowed seriously, glaring. "We are on a failing vessel with close to two thousand surviving crew. Hope of our survival relies on finding a habitable planet on which to establish a base for repairs and resupply, and you are the only one that can navigate this ship," he said, the undercurrent of a growl in his normally stoic tone. His grip squeezed a fraction tighter. "I cannot afford to kill you."

Ezra stared back at him, breath hitched, muted notes of fear in his head, for a moment all too uncomfortably aware of just how unpleasant Thrawn could make things for him, even if he wasn't outright killed.

Remembering the anxious tension he could sense coiled in the Chiss's body, hearing now the minute notes of desperation.

He bit his lip, nervous eyes wide.

Thrawn came to himself, calming, the hard edge vanishing from his expression, and released his grip. "But we are running out of time," he said, standing upright, hands folding formally behind his back. "My technicians say we only have enough fuel for a handful of jumps more. Three, if we are fortunate."

The red eyes landed coolly on him.

"I will give you one hour to recuperate. But then I expect you back in that navigation chair." Clipped and formal, Thrawn the Grand Admiral was in command again, with expectant demands. Debate was over. "Are we at an understanding?" he asked.

Ezra quietly nursed his bruised arm, avoiding eye contact again. "No pressure or anything," he muttered.

"Bridger," Thrawn snapped.

"Understood," Ezra said quickly, after a moment adding a respectful, "Sir."

Thrawn sniffed stiffly, accepting that, and turned promptly on his heel to march out of the medbay. Two troopers followed after him out the door, two remained in the room to stand guard.

Ezra sighed, a mountain of tension and nerves unraveling inside him, tangling up. He let Dr. Teanna move forward to begin checking him, trying to quell the unease in his stomach and his morbid musings about what, exactly, the Grand Admiral of a failing ship could to do a Jedi who'd outlived his usefulness.

***

Sabine stepped through the doors into Ahsoka's chambers, anxious, datapad clutched in hand.

The Togruta was seated in the center of a clear patch of floor, in the middle of what looked like some kind of prayer circle, white wax candles burning slowly all around her. She cracked one blue eye open at Sabine's entrance, but didn't speak.

"The long-range scan looked promising this time," Sabine said in a rush. "Traces of helium, nitrogen, barium..." She pulled the datapad up, scrolling quickly through the report. "Some cobalt particulates." Her head straightened, chin pulling up sharply. "Materials consistent with the composition of a nebula."

Ahsoka opened both eyes now, and nodded. "Then let's pursue that trace and see where it leads us," she said.

Sabine dropped her hands by her sides, datapad resting against her thigh, and stood in place a long moment, awkwardly trembling.

"What if—" she said, her voice warbling and soft, "—what if this doesn't amount to anything? What if we find the nebula but we can't..." She paused for a moment, taking in a shaky inhale. "...but we can't find him?" she finished.

Her heart ached inside her. It hurt to hope. It hurt to believe that Ezra might be just around the galactic corner, that if they just looked in the right spots and followed the right trails they could just stumble right across him. It hurt to cling to every tiny positive sign that they were on the correct track. The galaxy was so big; they were tiny specks looking for a needle in an impossibly huge hay stack.

She felt like fragile glass, waiting to shatter.

Ahsoka turned her head, her eyes full of warm sympathy. "Sabine..." she said, a quiet kind of admonition in her voice. "I can't promise you anything. We both knew this was a long shot. But we agreed that we had to try." She offered a smile, wan and hopeful. "So try we will."

Sabine's mouth quirked. "Thought there was no try with you Jedi types," she quipped.

Ahsoka turned, shifting around in her cross-legged position to face more towards Sabine. "Sit with me for a moment," she offered, patting a spot next to her.

The girl obliged, coming over and folding her legs underneath herself.

"I want to try something," Ahsoka told her. "Since your connection to Ezra is stronger than my own, I was hoping to use you as..." She paused, and seemed to carefully consider her next words. "...a beacon, of sorts," she finished.

"A beacon?" Sabine asked, clear confusion on her face.

Ahsoka attempted to explain as best she could. "My Force Sense has a limited range, and there are many factors that can affect its effectiveness, as I'm sure you well know." She shifted in her crouch, leaning back. "We know or at least we suspect that Ezra is trying to call out to you. Right now, he and I are like two separate transmission arrays, sending out signals past each other. I am hoping that if I boost your "signal" and add it to my own, it will be strong enough for him to catch."

Sabine nodded slowly. Ahsoka was using metaphors, obviously, she doubted the Force worked as reliably and cleanly as comm equipment, but the basic illustration made sense. If Ezra was listening specifically for her and Ahsoka could make her "louder", so to speak, then maybe it would be easier for them to find each other across the stellar distance.

"What do I have to do?" she asked, steeling herself.

"I'm going to enter a deep meditation," Ahsoka said. "I want you to try to make yourself as open to the Force as possible."

Sabine blew out a breath, brows pinching. "Okay," she accepted. "How do I do that? I'm still not sensitive to it you know."

"I know." Ahsoka reached across and took both her hands gently. "Clear your mind," she instructed. "Empty yourself of all thoughts. Your worries, your anxieties... let them go. Let them drift away. Focus only on breathing."

Sabine nodded vigorously, nerves prickling, eager to begin. A niggling thought occurred to her, though.

"The ship—" she started.

"Will continue in the search pattern we asked," Ahsoka assured her. "Focus. Concentrate. Feel your breath."

Sabine felt like so much vibrating tension and volatile chemicals waiting to explode, but she gave it a try. She let her eyes slip closed. She pictured all her emotions and thoughts curling into a tight ball.

"Will it feel weird?" she couldn't help asking, last minute.

"It might, at first," Ahsoka admitted.

Sabine compacted the ball of anxiety and nerves and the thousand terrified what ifs inside her, squeezing it smaller.

She inhaled slowly, filling her lungs with air, expanding her chest, holding the glowing hot ball in the top of her throat for a moment.

She let it out. Let the ball dissipate and drift away, filtering out the corners of her being. Quiet emptiness took its place, settling into her.

She breathed again. In... out... in...

She sent up a silent plea in her head before she dropped fully into relaxed meditative concentration.

Please, she begged the Force. Please help me.

***

The tension on the bridge was greater now. Strained and stressed minds pressed upon his senses, a prickling, throbbing aura of fear pervading the room.

Ezra gulped as he was dragged unceremoniously to his place at the navigation console. His darting eyes caught a hostile glare or two, even as Thrawn himself stared straight ahead and ignored him.

The troopers shoved him down into the seat and backed off, blasters clicking ominously behind his head, a silent threat that seemed even more ubiquitously present than before.

Ezra gripped his cuffed hands into fists in his lap, closing his eyes, determined not to let any fear show. Thrawn stirred from his position on the walkway, monotone voice giving the orders. Ezra straightened back against his seat, raising his head, fixing his posture with a determined inhale.

One more. Just one more, he told himself. Just get through this next jump.

The Chimaera's groaning was even more worrying as the whine of its engines filled Ezra's ears.

He took in a breath, slowly.

As before, when he released himself to the Force's will, his mind became untethered, the Chimaera disappearing into the ether and nothing but buffeting hyperspace winds filling his being.

Stars stretched out in the void on all sides, spinning dizzily, glimmering in the dark. Thrawn's target loomed somewhere distantly in front of him, riotous chaos between them. He felt out for stars and planets and other anomalies in their path and molded his mental hands around the shape of them. Forms emerged from the void. Coordinates fed through him soundlessly.

Intent on his work, he almost missed the soft siren call from somewhere behind him.

His head tilted, incorporeal ears pricking to something.

Light and warmth. Familiarity.

Keeping part of his attention on the way ahead he probed back, his mind's eye splitting in two, as he delved even deeper into the Force in order to concentrate. The Chimaera shuddered briefly under his distracted touch, until he pulled the pieces back together like gravity. He let himself pull higher, drifting like a kite on a string.

He floated, formless, above clusters of stars and clouds of ionized gas, asteroids and cosmic debris, feeling out with his senses for the thing that had caught his attention.

A pull. Some kind of call. A tug on him.

He turned to look, mental hand reaching out on instinct, reacting and responding before his mind caught up, wordlessly recognized the presence calling out to him.

Notes of hope and desperate fervor flushed through his chest as he sensed her, perceiving her like some kind of brilliant supernova in the ether.

Stardust filtered past him as he pushed forward against the distance. Stretching.

Straining.

***

Ahsoka could sense that Sabine still felt uncertain, the bright ball of her signature in the Force wavering with doubt. But she was trying, she was trying so hard, starlight and color leaking from her and spilling out into the vastness, luminous in the dark.

Ahsoka breathed in and out in a steady rhythm that pulsed through her mind, pulling her deeper and deeper into meditation, into oneness with the Force.

And it seemed she could perceive star systems at a distance and billowing clouds of nebula floating past.

She drifted, unmoored from her own mind and body, an anchorless vessel bobbing in a sea of cosmic energy.

She slipped even deeper into the Force, letting it fill her completely, letting its soft serenity drape her like a blanket.

And she heard a response to her call, an echo to her and Sabine's combined mental telegraph into the Force.

A wavering light, steady and steadfast.

Ahsoka pursued it eagerly, dragging along Sabine's mind and essence, pulling the girl like thin thread through the fabric of space and time towards the grasping tendrils of thought that might have been Ezra, tugging them towards each other, hope beating in steady flaming flares in her heart.

If they could just reach far enough...

***

Sabine felt stupid for doing this. But she could kind of feel something, so she tried to keep herself in that empty, relaxed state, tried to let all her nerves melt away and let the breath flow in and out of her.

And, in a moment she couldn't define and couldn't pinpoint, it seemed she slipped into a dreamlike state, floating and wafting on effervescent mists, watching constellations pass overhead and motes of stardust kiss her cheeks.

She was falling through the vastness, an incorporeal hand reaching out, feeling fingers of thought brush hers.

Shuddering, she strained after them, touching briefly once, twice, gravity was dizzying as she plummeted through the void, searching for something dear to her, allowing the ebb and flow of the Force to have her body as a vessel, as stubborn and resistant as it was.

Sabine wanted to cry as she caught hold of him somehow in the chaotic spin and hustle of spacetime, her mental hands latching around his, clinging tight, whispering reassurances of devotion as their minds spun around each other, intermingling and merging.

She heard a string of numbers distinctly inside her head, imprinted on her mind, and stirred from her trance long enough to recite them, feeling her mouth speak but disconnected from it.

She gasped as her eyes snapped open, reeling from the experience. Dizzy, she repeated the coordinates over and over to herself, waiting for Ahsoka to emerge from her meditation.

***

Imparting the precise numbers to her had taken its toll; Ezra was spinning out, limp in the winds of hyperspace, clinging on tightly with all his might to the body of the Chimaera, already splintering and shattering under him, protesting the long hyperspace jump.

He tried to hold onto Sabine as well, feeling her like a warm hand around his, amplified by Ahsoka's ringing Force presence.

Hope charted an unused trail through him as he finished plotting the safe course for the ship and let himself topple back into oblivion, coming to his own body exactly as the Chimaera jolted awkwardly into realspace, falling senseless out of his chair with the ringing knowledge that he'd made contact. Been able to reach her.

The gloved hands of Stormtroopers caught him as he fainted out of his seat.

***

Ahsoka opened her eyes to an anxiously pacing Sabine, who jerked to a stop the moment she saw that the ex-Jedi was paying attention.

"I heard coordinates," she blurted.

She rattled them off in a rush, and bewildered, Ahsoka could barely keep up. Her head was reeling slightly, taken aback at how well her plan had worked. Beyond her most fleeting hopes, Ezra had managed to reach them.

Thanking the Force silently inside her head, she rose quickly to her feet.

"We should not delay," she told Sabine.

Both of them turned to the door, leaving the candles flickering behind.

***

An alarm rang out from somewhere in the ship, and fresh sparks were raining down on their heads from something busted in the ceiling. The technicians quickly dispersed, swarming to the problem areas and setting about repairs immediately.

Thrawn slowly let out a breath, his tensed shoulders loosing a fraction. The worrying shudders that had passed through the ship towards the end had subsided, they were intact—more or less—and the crew at the forward sensor post was already confirming that they had made it to their intended target; the yellow dwarf and its habitable planet were only a short sublight flight away.

His eyes flicked over to check on the status of his navigator. Bridger was pale and limp, but Dr. Teanna had already come forward out of standby, had her fingers pressed to the boy's pulse, was already administering a syringe full of her reparative serum. After a few seconds she gave a nod to the Grand Admiral, and Thrawn allowed himself to relax, ever so slightly.

"Monitor his condition," he instructed. "Return him to his cell once he is stable."

They quickly bustled him away, the boy's feet and head dangling in the Stormtroopers' arms.

Thrawn turned forward again, mentally striking one more item from the mission list, rearranging his thoughts and considering the next steps forward. Repairs to the Chimaera first. They would need to inventory the operational ability of the shuttles, send a survey to the planet to scan it.

And from there... they would see.

***

A couple more days out from their starting position and Sabine felt like a thin wire about to snap. She had worn a hole on practically all the floors with her pacing, couldn't bring herself to eat, couldn't sleep, food turned to flavorless ash in her mouth and stress kept her tossing and turning long into the wee hours of the night.

"You need to calm down," Ahsoka had admonished her several times by now. But even she seemed to know that there was nothing now that could ease Sabine's anxiety except reaching the coordinates floating inside her head.

For better or worse, that was the only cure.

They were coming up on the spot now. Sabine stood behind Ahsoka's shoulder on the bridge, fidgeting as the distance counted down.

After three solid weeks of holding herself back from hope, Sabine was having trouble keeping it contained; it wanted to burst from her chest and tear her apart from the ribs. She swallowed, wringing hands into her pant seams, vibrating in place as she glanced from the window to the captain to Ahsoka, who looked so serene and calm and every bit the wise Jedi she insisted she wasn't.

Her heart beat nervously, fluttering, racing in anxious pulses.

She jolted a bit as Navigation announced they were coming up on the coordinates. Closing her eyes, Sabine slowly took in a long breath.

She hoped, whatever lay ahead, she was ready.

"Exiting hyperspace," came the announcement. "In three... two..."

The ship jolted into realspace with a smooth shudder.

All personnel on the bridge immediately startled and yelled as the New Republic cruiser nearly ran smack dab into a huge listing Star Destroyer, hanging awkwardly in space right in front of the hyperspace exit.

The collision alarms sounded and the pilots hastily jumped to enact evasive maneuvers.

Sabine felt like the breath had been punched out of her, and swayed on her feet as the deck tilted, the cruiser bearing hard right to avoid the stem of the Star Destroyer's bridge.

Ahsoka frowned at the other ship, brows narrowed firmly over her eyes like she was trying to see through it. One hand grabbed onto the edge of a console as the cruiser turned and came about, facing off against the broadside of the Imperial ship.

They held position, baring their guns out, and waited.

And waited.

...

No immediate or visible response came from the listing Chimaera.

The captain eventually spoke up.

"Commander Tano?" he asked. "Lieutenant Wren? What's our next course of action?"

Ahsoka merely frowned harder, while Sabine glanced anxiously aside at the hanging Star Destroyer. She was vibrating; a million different thoughts and ideas jostling for prominence inside her head.

All she wanted was Ezra back... but could their small cruiser stand up to an Imperial Star Destroyer? Would they need to fire on the other vessel? How far would they get if they had to board it? If Thrawn made a stand against them?

Sabine composed herself with a steely exhale, and then ordered the captain, "Open a channel."

He nodded, and passed on the order.

There was a quiet click as communications opened up between the two ships.

"Unidentified Imperial vessel," said the captain, for formality's sake since everyone had caught a glimpse of the painted underbelly of the opposing ship, knew exactly what designation it held. "This is the Striker Freedom of the New Republic Fleet, under the command and custodianship of Commander Ahsoka Tano. You are hereby ordered to stand down."

Trickling static answered the captain for several moments before a horribly familiar monotone replied.

"Striker Freedom, what is the nature of your interest in us?"

Sabine felt a shaking hot fury rising up inside her, and had to breathe deeply to keep it at bay. Still, she took a few steps forward and took over speaking.

"Where's Ezra, you bastard?" she demanded.

"Lieutenant Wren," Thrawn acknowledged. There was a long pause on the line that seemed horribly potent. "He is not here," came the simple pronouncement.

Her heart stuttered for a fraction of a second. She shot eyes towards Ahsoka, probing.

The Togruta had her eyes closed, but snapped them open on feeling Sabine's look, nodding her head fiercely.

Invigorated, Sabine stepped closer to the open comm and growled, "Liar. We know you have him." Her hands gripped by her sides, fists shaking angrily. "Hand him over or we'll blow what's left of your ship to tiny smithereens."

"Your vessel hardly possesses the capacity for such a thing," Thrawn shot back, witheringly.

It was a bluff and Sabine could see right through it. Everyone on the bridge could see the holes in the Chimaera's hull, could see how badly it was damaged. The once great Star Destroyer was practically venting atmosphere; a few well placed hits and it would be done for.

But of course, if Ezra was on that ship, they didn't want to destroy it.

Sabine bit her lip, mulling.

Ahsoka stepped forward, taking over negotiations.

"Grand Admiral," she addressed, tone formal, neutral, diplomatic and placating. "Your ship is badly damaged. You are in need of aid and repair." She firmed her lips, all-serious. "We are willing to negotiate terms for both from the New Republic," she said, "provided you immediately surrender custody of Lieutendant Commander Bridger to us."

"And should I refuse?" came the challenge.

"Then I would point out, once again, that the Chimaera is not in the ideal condition to rebuff an open attack," Ahsoka said, not missing a beat. Her eyes, Sabine noted, were burning with fierceness. "I have no interest in leading a boarding party to extract him," she told the man, "but I would also point out that I can cut quite a dent in your limited forces, if I have to."

There was silence on the other end for a long time.

***

Thrawn pursed his lips, displeased.

He took in Commander Tano's words with sober grimness, calcuating out her sincerity and the nature of her threat.

Though relatively weak in firepower compared to the Chimaera, the New Republic cruiser would only have to hit a few key points—the engines, the shields, the life support systems—to have his ship dead to rights. Thrawn had no doubt the cruiser would target said weak points if it came to a firefight. The Chimaera was already badly battered from the purgill attack and the frequent shaky hyperspace jumps; as Tano had said, it wouldn't last long against a direct assault. That was the entire reason he'd pushed the boy so hard; he needed to get the Chimaera to a secure mooring for repairs.

They could, perhaps, hold off against a boarding party, if they refused to engage and forced the Republic cruiser to dock with them... but Tano—as a Jedi and experienced Clone Wars veteran—was an unknown factor, and one he was not quite willing to test against his exhausted and desperate forces. And Wren would undoubtedly be a hassle in her own right.

Thrawn leaned back on his right leg.

He considered the merits of leveraging the life of Ezra Bridger against their threats; they wanted him alive, surely, and would perhaps stand down if he hinted at the undue harm he could cause the boy.

...But that was a threat without teeth, and he knew it. Bridger was not expendable to him. Even now, with the vague statements he'd gotten from Dr. Teanna about Bridger's uncertain mental state, he could not afford to kill him, not even to spite Wren and Tano. The shuttles that had been down planetside had confirmed there was no intelligent life or civilization on the surface that could help them. Should they rebuff this unforeseen interruption by the New Republic cruiser, there was still no guarantee they could enact repairs to the ship—or more importantly their navicomputer—with whatever they could find on the planet.

Which meant they would need Bridger's guidance again, to continue onwards.

Thrawn's composure strained. He glanced around the bridge, at all the worried anxious eyes watching him, all the crew depending on him.

He considered all the possible outcomes and strategies, all the potential routes ahead...

And, in the end... he relented.

"That will not be necessary, Commander Tano," he said. "What are your terms?"

A breath on the other end, slight surprise and relief.

Ahsoka Tano's voice came back on, steady and firm. "Give us Ezra," she demanded, "and we'll leave without incident, and pass on your location to New Republic relief forces, so they may come to your assistance."

Implicitly, it was a demand for surrender, for him to submit himself to the custody and judgement of this so-called New Republic, made to answer for his crimes under the Empire. But he had a duty to the people of this vessel, the men and women under his command, and he could do nothing less, or else comdemn them all to perish in the void remoteness of Wild Space.

Thrawn gripped his jaw, seething yet seeing no other way out.

Taking in a breath, he calmed himself.

"Proceed to docking port seven," he said. "I will have an escort lead you to the containment cells."

***

Something was happening.

His head was still floating, but Ezra could tell there was something a-stir on the ship. The spinning cauldron of emotions he could feel from the people on the Chimaera buzzed on his Force-enhanced empathic senses, a mixture of agitation, apprehension, anxiety... and a sliver of relief.

Ezra tilted back slowly, taking it all in, trying not to drift away as the whispering murmurs of thought brushed past him, as stars collided inside his head and hyperspace whistled past him even while still.

He struggled to concentrate.

His hands gripped tighter to the edge of the seat, trying to ground himself, knuckles clenching. He inhaled slowly, and felt a breath of familiar warmth on his mind.

Dizzy, he let his eyes drift up, seeing and feeling through the door the approach of several presences, ghosting on the edge of his awareness. He blinked, squinted, struggled to focus on them.

One of them exploded on his mind like a brilliant supernova, full of color and life and vibrance, a glowing sun tethered to him through the lifeblood of the universe, radiant and unstoppable.

Hissing slowly through his teeth, his mouth began to quirk up, his mind echoing in the recognition of the presence and reeling in mingled relief and affection towards it.

"Sabine..." he breathed softly, to quietness of the cell.

***

She jolted with a soft gasp, some strange... tingling on her periphery senses as she and Ahsoka followed the escort. Sabine cast eyes about in bewilderment, wondering where the sensation was coming from.

The lead Stormtrooper stopped in front of a particular cell, and Sabine's heart thudded so loudly she swore she could hear it as he pressed the button to open the door.

Ahsoka glanced briefly at her and then nodded, giving her permission.

Sabine stepped shakily up to the opening, one trembling foot landing on the first stair.

The sight of him almost overwhelmed her.

Sabine reeled a moment, just taking him in, seeing how he sat unnaturally calm and still on the edge of the single seat, the hair growing messily around his ears, the distant, faraway look in his eyes, which glimmered with flecks of blue-streaked hyperspace, tunneling behind his pupils and lighting up the depths of his irises.

She almost shied away from the odd sight, but then his lolling eyes leveled on her and some kind of spark of recognition ignited in them. She watched the distance in his eyes shorten, the glimmering blue fixating on her.

"Sabine," he said, breathless, whispering her name with awe.

Emotion choked her throat and, heedless of the watching eyes behind her, she flung herself forward.

Her hands gripped his cheeks feverishly, her eyes searched his face. "Ezra..." she choked out, her throat tight, voice trembling. Her fingers dug into the space behind his ears. "I'm here," she told him. "I'm here. Come back to me."

His expression stayed dazed for a moment, overwhelmed by a vague happiness at her presence. But, slowly, she saw his eyes dim, saw the hyperspace flecks fade out into his normal blue as he came to and looked at her, gaze locked on her face.

As if he was using the sight of her to claw his way back.

He stirred, present in a way he hadn't been before, and his hands rose up to grab at hers and squeeze tight.

"Sabine..." he said again, and it was tighter this time, slightly strained, emotion stabbing through every syllable. "You heard me. You found me."

Blinking furiously against the tears that threatened in her eyes, she pressed her forehead solidly against his, arms wrapping around his neck.

"Yeah," she stuttered, voice shaking with emotion, mind ringing with a sense of rightness, of completion. "I did."

Behind them, looking through the open cell door, Ahsoka smiled softly, contentment draping around her like a soft curtain. The two young adults resonnated in the Force together, shining and whole.

Complete.

Ahsoka let them stay there, wrapped in the euphoria of their reunion, for a little while longer.

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #sabezra #grand admiral thrawn #prompt fics #fanfiction #cute boys in peril #i did it for the Vibes

[deadpige0n]

Pinkie Promise

summary- hot cocoa and heavy hearts cry for one another's pain

warnings: deep convos, peter crying, rain, hot cocoa, bruises, crisis, gwen 💀, sad, unbetaed and read twice sorry 😔✋

word count: 0.6k ♡

Masterlist

an: idek what came over me my dudes. one moment i was listening to One For The Road by Arctic Monkeys and the next minute i had this in my notes 😵‍💫😵‍💫. welp i hope u besties enjoy <3 in my tasm!peter era 🤩 this is a repost from my main @writingquillsandpainpills bc i feel like that accounts shadowbanned lmfao

∆

the rain hit the windows harshly, loud and angry and quick like an erratic heartbeat. I was lying down on peters floor, feeling the cold marble on my back through the fabric of my loose tee.

"do you ever feel like..." peter started as he sat down, two mugs of hot cocoa in his hands. I sit up and cross my legs as he hands me my mug, eyeing his bruised knuckles, where yellow and purple speckled his skin.

I hummed in response, intrigued by his question and wanting him to go on. his eyebrows raised lightly as I sipped the cocoa, as if asking is it good? I nodded in his direction lightly and waited for him to finish his sip so he'd speak.

"like the worlds moving so fast and i-its like you don't have any way of catching up?" he continued, eyes dazed and far away. I stared, worried.

"I didn't know you felt like that, pete. yea sometimes....sometimes it feels like i'm losing track of everything, but i don't worry much about it.'' I reply, fiddling with the hem of my jeans. his eyes focused on me again and he opened his mouth as if to say something. he hesitated for a beat and then took a sip.

"i jus-i feel like with the whole spiderman thing, i jus don't have enough time to live my own life. after everything with gwen-'' he gulped, choking back tears, "i'm just so scared that-that it'll happen again to you..or-or may and i just can't have that happen to either of you, y'know." he finished, fat tears falling down the his cheeks.

I stared at him, his brown eyes squinty and drowning in tears, his hair mussed and falling everywhere in spikes, his stubble starting to come through. he looked so tired.

I scooted closer, putting my mug down and gently prying his from his hands and putting his mug down next to mine. I tugged him towards me and he fell into me, his forehead on my shoulder and his tears dropping down on my ankles.

"how long have you felt like this?" I whispered, tears of my own flooding my eyes making me blink them back.

"jus a few months or so" he whispered back, sniffling slightly. he wrapped his arms around my back as he pulled me closer towards him, till I was nestled in his chest.

"I wanted to tell you, but I jus...couldn't. i'm sorry." he apologised, his chin resting on my head.

I pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes, looking at the thinly veiled regret and sadness he was fighting back.

"pete, you don't ever have to apologize, okay? jus tell me when you feel ready. don't force yourself to do anything before you're ready, okay?" I said softly. he nodded and brought up a hand, his fist closed tightly, his veins bulging and his pinkie pointing towards me.

"pinkie promise?" he said, a sad, sideways smile tugging his lips and making his left eye squint slightly.

i chuckled at the sweet, adolescent gesture, nostalgia flooding in my heart as I brought my pinkie up to interlock mine with his.

"pinkie promise." I returned, with a similar smile.

he kissed my forehead, a light peck so gentle i barely felt it. I leaned into him further, my ear on his heart, our pinkies still interlocked.

the rain continued to thrash against his windows outside, still loud, still angry, still quickly and still like an erratic heartbeat. but inside his apartment, in his arms i heard his heartbeat, slow and steady and calm. we sat like that till our hot cocoa got cold and our eyes became drowsy.

"what kind of name is peter?"

"oh, shut up"

∆

tags!: @gay-prentiss @sadgirlml @will-on-the-internet @lil-stark @gold-onthe-inside @fightingdragonswithreid @ssabelova @broken-stardust ik ive alr tagged you but 🧍🏻‍♀️i had to repost ♡

#tasm fic #tasm 2 #tasm imagine #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter parker smut #tasm peter x reader #tasm spiderman #tasm!peter #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield peter parker #andrew peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker headcanon #the amazing spider man #peter benjamin parker #tasm smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #tasmedit #peter parker imagine #peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker oneshot #peter parker smut #peter parker x fem!reader

[starcrossedjedis]

"36 Hours" - or "I need plot with my p*rn so this happened"

It might sound weird, but she's really looking forward to spending this weekend apartment sitting for her best friend.

After all she gets to spend a few days in a penthouse on the Upper East Side - and away from her roommate and their less than soundproof two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

She has free reign over the jacuzzi (with a view of the park, thank you very much), a cozy fireplace and a fridge full of just the finest stuff and all she has to do in exchange is feed the world's ugliest cat.

As far as short vacations go, this one doesn't sound too shabby - at least until she steps out of the guest room in little more than a bath rope and finds a strange man standing in the livingroom.

Lucky for her, he isn't a serial killer.

Not so lucky for her, BFF and her husband seem to have a bit of a communication problem, because he also offered the apartment to a friend for the weekend.

And unfortunately "Tall, Dark and Handsome" proves to be just as stubborn as she is, which means she's once again stuck with a roommate...

IDEK what this is. I was hormonal, I had a dream I really liked and then that dream took on a life of its own and here we are 🤷🏻‍♀️

tagged: @mcrmaidia, @sgtbuckyybarnes, @curious-kittens-ocs, @cas-verse, @lukespatterson, @heirsoflilith, @stachedocs, @jvstjewels, @drbobbimorse, @villain-connoisseur, @honeyandsunflowers, @booty-boggins, @noratilney, @lokitrasho, @reykenobis, @akabluekat, @anna-phora, @harleyquinnzelz, @asirensrage, @ocfairygodmother, @susiesamurai, @darknightfrombeyond, @fyoriginalstories, @fyeahocsofcolor

#fyoriginalstories #fyeahocsofcolor #nanowrimo #wriblr #original story #ana de armas #jason momoa #my ocs #my graphics #IDK OKAY???

[stregoniconiconii]

about the siblingification of friendships, sorry im totally about to make myself a stand in for steve here, but im an only child, i have felt v lonely, and i have this one friend who calls her close girl friends sisters,, and i just do not feel it, i love her, and she is one of my best friends, but i just do Not see her as a sibling. and i think steve would be the same way tbh, also my most sibling adjacent feelings have been for ppl around 5 years younger than me (just like Steve & the kids/teens<3) but unlike steve, i haven't had any intense trauma to increase the chance for sibling bonding.

idk i just think that it would take More for steve to feel sibling feelings for ppl around his own age or older.

i also think that when u have been on ur own a lot it's like, sure u want ppl around, but also u need ur space bc u're used to it, idk maybe thats just me lol. i also have an intense need for personal space and like my things are my things and no one better fucking touch it, (i mean u can but if u pick stuff up I'll be annoyed, sorry) but also i Crave physical affection, and sorry i think this is just a "why i relate to steve/things i project onto steve" list, oops.

but like i guess what i probably wanted to say is, steve is, as far as we know, an only child, and while i think we all want him to have good family times, i don't think that equals sibling type relationships with everyone, and i think it would be interesting if ppl took into account how living as an only child would affect him, and not only in the "his house was always empty so now he is filling it w the sound of his friends 24/7" way. like maybe its just me, and im projecting or w/e but if I had friends over All the time, even my very best friends(except maybe my best best friend<3) i would go insane i think

sorry for talking so much about myself, it's just things that makes me think about steve, and this is the best i could manage to express it at the moment <3

this just made me think of something very funny which is that Steve and robin DO think each other as siblings but because they're both only children they just. genuinely have absolutely no idea how siblings are supposed to act around each other and so they do things together that would make ppl sing 'sweet home Alabama' or go 'wtf' if they were actual real life siblings. like it genuinely is all completely platonic but it's still a line that siblings wouldn't cross lol (idek what kind of things yall can figure it out)

HOWEVER two only children who are very used to doing their own thing suddenly being very clingy with each other?? oh I just know there were growing pains. like they want to be around each other but also being around someone means Being Around Someone. they definitely had to figure out a system to make sure they dont murder each other lol

but yeah I do see what you mean about Steve maybe either not needing or necessarily even wanting?? a sibling relationship with everyone he knows (that isn't somehow a parental figure either lmaoo) the type of person I could see filling that sort of role for Steve might be likeeee an almost queer older sibling? like someone he meets in his 20s who takes him under a gay wing. I know ppl like to imagine Eddie doing that for Steve but that's definitely not a sibling framework with them lol and also Eddie's dead </3 but I can see it happening when Steve and robin move out of hawkins and get involved with the gay scene. or maybe him getting into a line of work that ends up forming these close sibling like relationships. idk lol

idk mostly im fine with Steve being an older brother to dustin and max you know?

alsoooo it's totally fine to talk about urself <333 it helps inform ur head canons!! I mean im the absolute opposite of Steve I have siblings and I grew up so close with my cousins they’re practically also siblings, so hearing the only child side of living Does make a difference you know 

#platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley

[leestershay]

i love you

i hate you. not really, but there is no hope for us anymore. i know i said that before...but now i mean it. lol. this is drunk me talking so you know it’s coming from the heart. you hurt me. i opened up to you and you took it and ran with it. idk if your feelings were genuine. but mine are. they are intense just like me. its been a month since we’ve talked and i can confidently say that i’ll cut you off. there’s no doubt that you’re a great girl...that’s why i love you. but...you have your boyfriend and i never knew how comfortable you were with your boyfriend until i heard what he did...and you still stayed. call it ignorance, call it what you want, but that’s not how a man should treat the love of his life. i hope you realize that or at least find some peace in it because you deserve it even though it rips me apart every day that you don’t put yourself first. this month of not talking has made me realize that i’m a fucking mess whenever i see you or think about you. all because i have deep, strong, intense feelings for you. believe me, don’t believe me, i don’t care. you are your own woman with your own life and decisions. you said you weren’t willing to let go of what you have for me...and that hurt. because realistically, you don’t have much with him. sure “culture” and “native language” but i would’ve learnt both and i might not’ve been good at it but i would’ve learned and tried to have learned. all i’m saying is... i hope he makes you happy. not in your mom’s way of “oh he loves us so much” but in the way of “my soul is yours, my heart is yours. everything that i am and everything that i have is yours” and quite honestly, it should be the vice versa. that’s real love. we don’t own anything in this world. we live and we die. our feelings don’t matter to the universe but they matter to us. the least we can do is try to make our spouse, our soulmate, our partner for life believe that they’re our universe in all its glory..........i say all of this now because you won’t see me for a week. a full week. and i won’t see you. it’ll be tough.. at least for me lol but my brain says that seeing you less and less will help. my heart on the other hand craves you at every moment of the day. but i can’t listen to my heart when it comes to you now. because it’ll only hurt me more knowing that you are not being cherished in all your glory. so i’ll cut you off and this will be your only connection from me. idek if you still have my tumblr memorized or if you have made an account but i give you this gift and it’s for life. i gave you my heart. this version of my heart...until i learn to rebuild. because this life is not worth living if we are not thinking with our heart. take care.                                                    p.s. good luck on the LSAT! study hard & you’ll accomplish everything you dream of. (i know it’s in june, but this is the last you’ll hear from me so i’d might as well make it worth it)

#A.R.

[gerudospiriit]

[Try to post this on it's own? Maybe it was too long? Idek good grief...

Edit: OKAY I guess it was too long? idk man. I guess I'll post them separate. Basically, these three little drabbles came from another fic I wrote and I wanted to post them here. Just a little slice of life goodness from Nabooru's past. 🧡]

Translation notes: -vaina: mother -miv vehvi: my child]

Adena

It was almost strange to shed the white garb of the Gerudo Elite that she had strived to don for the better portion of her life. She knew she wouldn't be rid of it and would likely keep it stored away for training purposes along with the red of a warrior she had, but her promotion to second in command meant a uniquely designed outfit to help her stand apart from her peers. Her mother insisted on making it a surprise, and though she could never doubt her skill and grasp on style as the head seamstress and artisan, Nabooru still felt a pang of nervousness as she waited for her mother to return to the fitting room from the attached workshop.

"Close your eyes, Nabooru. And I will check!"

Nabooru snorted and did as her mother bid her. "Fine, they're closed."

She heard the rustle of the heavy curtain shift and fall back into place. Two sets of footsteps entered the room, one behind the other. Something hefty was placed on the floor in front of her. She tapped her foot as her mother and Lanu whispered amongst themselves between the shift of fabric and clicks of metal hooks.

"All set. You can open your eyes."

Lids lifted from her gold eyes and air abandoned her lungs. The mannequin set before her was dressed in the most beautiful clothes she had ever seen her mother craft. A tan bandeau with a dulled red and blue Gerudo pattern stretched over its chest, and the pink pants with wide legs looked light and easy to maneuver in, a silver belt resting at the hips. Red slippers rested at its base, pointed at the toes. A headpiece inlaid with an amber stone encircled the head and an ornate gold choker rested at its neck, a large ruby the size of her fist dangling from it and surrounded by ornately carved gold. Pink gloves stretched up to the elbow, the fingers cut out, to complete the ensemble.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, eyes wide. She took a step forward and stopped, afraid they might rip it from her at the last second. "I've never seen anyone wear anything like it."

Adena moved next to the mannequin, beaming with pride. "That's what I was going for. I'm ashamed to admit I may have put in a tiny bit of extra effort and rupees than I normally would into convincing Shini to craft the jewelry as an extra gift from a mother to her daughter, but they can't really expect me to never work with a little bit of favoritism in my heart, can they?" When Nabooru didn't move, she waved her over. "Well, go on! Try it on!"

She hesitated no longer. She slipped the clothes on, allowing Laney and her mother to adorn her with the accessories. As expected, it all fit perfectly. She stepped in front of the full length mirror, confidence skyrocketing. She looked strong and beautiful. Imposing but approachable. She fit the part of the Gerudo's second in command far better in the new ensemble.

Taking hold of her shoulders, Adena whisked her over to a chair and sat her down at a vanity across the room. "I noticed you started wearing makeup," she said, untying her hair and letting it fall around her shoulders. She dismissed Lanu with a nod. "And you don't have to use it, but I thought up a palette that would go well with this. I could show you if you want?"

Nabooru nodded, and Adena wetted a rag. She closed her eyes and allowed her mother to remove the makeup she currently wore, wincing slightly when she scrubbed too hard. "I know we don't always see eye to eye on what you wanted and what I wanted for you, but I am proud of you. I will still worry about your safety, but seeing you happy and achieving your goals makes me happy at the end of the day. You're going to make a fine second in command to our king."

"Thank you, vaina." Though she long since decided not to care about their differences in opinion, on continuing her desire to become a great warrior and join the Elite versus her mother's hope that she would settle into a less dangerous lifestyle and have children that created a tension between them, Nabooru felt her heart swell. She didn't realize how much she craved such words from her mother. Even if it was not full acceptance of her decisions, the acknowledgement of her hard work and the belief that she would continue to succeed uplifted her.

Adena instructed her to close her eyes again and began applying powder to her eyelids. She hummed a melody as she worked, one Nabooru recognized as a lullaby she sang to her as a child. Nabooru felt her pull away but followed her instruction to keep her eyes closed. A thin brush tipped with cool liquid swept along her lash line.

"There. You can open."

She opened her eyes and glanced over toward the mirror. Shimmering gold dust colored her eyelids, and a line of black traced the bottom of her eyelid and flicked outward just past the corner. A gentle press to her cheek brought her gaze forward again. Adena leaned down so their faces were even. Up close, she could see why others spoke of her mother's beauty with both awe and jealousy, and said that her sunny disposition kept her looking so young. Her features were far softer than her daughter's sharper angles save for the beak-like nose they shared, and not a single wrinkle could be found on her smooth skin. The only hint of her age could be caught in a scant few strands of white pulled back into her usual tight bun that occasionally escaped her tie's hold when she worked.

With a nod, she turned back to the vanity. "By the way. The band you're wearing on your arm. You kept it on, and I've seen you wearing it recently." She dabbed a brush in a small container and dabbed the color onto Nabooru's lips. "It's very fine craftsmanship. I asked Shini about it and she said it wasn't her work."

Heat boiled in Nabooru's cheeks and her palms sweat. She had to fight the urge to chew on her newly painted bottom lip. "Oh, you know. Just a trinket I picked up on a raid." She used the excuse of looking in the mirror at the added makeup to avoid her mother's gaze, admiring the white-pink shade with flecks of gold on her lips.

"Did Ganondorf give it to you?"

Nabooru blinked, eyes darting to catch her mother's sly smile in the mirror and hand flying to the band instinctively. "How did you know?"

"I'm your mother, Nabooru. I don't miss the way you look at him or how he looks at you no matter how you both try to hide it." Adena chuckled and strode over to a box lying next to the mannequin she hadn't noticed before. She popped it open and returned with another large ruby cut in a diamond shape and set atop a gold clasp. Stepping behind Nabooru, she nodded to the brush lying on the vanity. Nabooru handed it to her, watching her in the mirror.

"It does better explain why you insisted on the trials to decide who was best fit to serve as second in command, though." She dragged the brush through her crimson locks with tender care. "Leaving it as just his choice would allow for all sorts of scrutiny. I will say your fight with Avira in the final trial scared me. She truly is as brutal as they say."

"She is. And she's had it out for me for years. If I would have given the opportunity, I'm sure she would have killed me." Adena winced at how casually her daughter spoke of such violence, the very sort of thing that made her want her daughter to seek a different path. Nabooru cleared her throat and switched gears. "But doing the best in the trials I hope will help keep favoritism off of people's lips. I got enough of it when we developed a friendship. I can only imagine how much worse it would get if people knew we were en-"

Nabooru stopped herself short, horrified with how easily she slipped up. But with how her mother paused, holding her hair high on her head in a ponytail and free hand extended halfway toward the ruby, the damage had already been done. Nabooru groaned in the face of her mother's excited grin and wanted nothing more than to flee from the room.

"You're engaged to him? Our king?" She drew her hair through the clasp and closed it in place around her ponytail. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I haven't told anyone, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't either." Her lower lip poked out in a pout, and she narrowed her eyes at Adena. "It's only kind of an engagement. We both agreed we don't want to think about officially marrying or telling anyone until we both feel the Gerudo are in a more stable position which could be years from now."

"And here I remember a stubborn young lady telling me she wanted nothing to do with falling in love or bearing children." Still grinning, Adena beckoned for her to stand and directed her back to the full mirror. "Or anything remotely related for that matter. If I recall, you swore your only love would be combat."

A smile crept onto Nabooru's lips despite her growing annoyance with the direction of the conversation. The makeup truly did tie the look together. "Well, that's not fully untrue. My first love is fighting. Ganondorf is second place."

Adena laughed, the warmth of the sound comforting. "As long as he knows and doesn't mind, I suppose there is no harm in it. I'm just happy you're experiencing love for yourself. It's beautiful. Complicated, likely more so when your lover is a monarch, but I'm sure you two make it work."

"Please just remember to keep this to yourself?"

Her mother zipped her lips and pretended to lock them tight. "My lips are sealed, miv vehvi. I'm simply grateful you opened up to me about it."

Nabooru gazed at her reflection in the mirror, her mother's at her side. Truthfully, it felt good to get it off her chest. To have someone other than Aveil with far more experience in the realm of romance to talk to about it. Though slightly irritated that her mother had in fact told her she would change her mind someday, she couldn't find it in her to hold it against her. The first step, perhaps, to healing a strained relationship.

Turning, she embraced her mother and buried her face in her neck. Adena squeezed her tight and pressed her face into her daughter's hair. "Thank you, vaina. For everything."

#[ ☀ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿ ;; ⁱ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˡˡʸ ˢᵒ ⁱ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ] #nabooru #legend of zelda #loz #ocarina of time #oot #gerudo

[throwingupmyemotions]

guilt lolll

i only cringe when i try to sound serious so i have this urge to write lol after everything but i also don't want to do that at all. but so basically ughh i don't even feel like using periods anymore

so im not going to

from now on im not using punctuation

ill just make a new paragraph for every thought

no ok this is getting annoying too

ok ill stop but pls know that im so unserious rn and every period i write is written with the highest level of whimsy possible. LOLOLOL ive never said whimsy before idek if i used it right but i couldn't think of the word that i was thinking of. omg this is so fun im actually writing everything that im thinking of!! i tried doing this in my old diary but i couldn't write fast enough to keep up, luckily im a much faster typer ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

OMG lemme start talking about the whole reason i started this. so basically this is just an intro for something else but i think about it a lot

so like i recently had a sort of awakening? kind of? like it was rlly just me growing up and realizing that the world doesn't actually revolve around me. but like in the best way possible bc i thought everyone's lives around me were perfect and i was the only imperfect one but now i realize everyone has their own problems which ik sounds like smth i should've realized as a kid but idk ig im just rlly dumb and self involved.

so anyway, i have always felt guilt pretty heavily like as a kid i would end up confessing to my parents anytime i did anything wrong because the guilt would literally eat me alive. ooh i have a rlly funny story

i was in like 6th grade and it was that time where i started getting all horny and curious. but the thing is i was suuuper sheltered like i don't even think i knew what sex was until like highschool and so i didn't know what was going on yk. all i knew is that looking at boobs made me feel some type of way( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) HAHAHA

OK SO I WOULD LOOK UP CLEAVAGE PRANKS ON YT LIKE EVERY DAY BECAUSE BOOBS IS A BAD WORD AND I CANT JUST TYPE BOOBS

its crazy bc i felt guilty but i didnt even know why?? like im a girl so ofc im curious about what my boobs will look like one day right??? no yeah that excuse stopped working after a yr when i realized i was feeling stuff yk so i completely stopped watching them

it had been about a month since i stopped and i thought the guilt would go away but it literally got worse. so i was lying in bed, and at this point i couldn't even sleep it was so bad, my stomach was hurting and i couldn't stop crying so eventually i went and woke my parents up at 3 am and i was crying so hard that i was like gasping for air so they were both terrified

i sat them down and it took me like 10 minutes to finally speak

and i told them "ive been watching bad videos"

and they started laughing

i cant make this up

it was so embarrassing

so anyway now that you get an idea of what my guilt was like then, its definitely a lot better now but it transformed into me feeling guilty about things that i cant just fix with a confession which makes it harder

ik life is unfair and thats just how it is and we're supposed to just accept it but its soooo hard like sooo hard for me to accept

and im so fucking lucky like im rlly starting to realize how lucky i am now but omg im so grateful for everything that i have but like i don't deserve this at all yk? like i didn't do anything to deserve this life and it makes me feel so shitty like im not a good enough person to get all of this and i feel guilty so i feel like helping ppl is the only way to get rid of the guilt but that's so selfish so then i feel like an even worse person and i feel more guilty and its this crazy cycle that i just made up but idk. im obviously self aware enough to realize that me feeling like i don't deserve the life i have is a me problem. and ik ive been obsessed with the idea of being a good person like my whole life but my awareness of the obsession only makes me feel terrible. like how can i even be a good person anymore if anytime i do anything good i think its fake? and another recent worry that i have is that i have a savior complex which definitely is what this paragraph sounds like. like i feel like since i got so lucky its my "duty" to help other ppl bc it could easily be me in that situation yk.

i obviously have a weird relationship with guilt and my own self image so i wrote this story a long time ago. like a rlly rlly long time ago. this is one of the first things ive ever written for pleasure bc i used to hate writing. so like its obviously not good but it makes me feel things so i wanna put it in here

standing on the damp stone floor barefoot, you look up to see yourself in some kind of cave with an eerie glow illuminating what would be complete darkness.  you feel empty- or maybe blank would be a better word, nothing is in your mind, no memories or significant thoughts. but more than that, no emotions- even the realization that you are naked doesn’t bring panic.  trying to think what your shivering wet body is doing here, bare and alone in a dark cave, you almost don’t notice when you see a figure approaching you. the unusual lack of anxiety as you’re waiting allows you to notice it’s odd movement almost like the unknown being is floating. now it is close enough that you make eye contact, and everything comes back.

all of your memories and emotions overwhelmingly flood your brain pushing you to a crouched position on the floor.  as you cradle your head in pain, you squint up at the once unknown figure now in front of you. though you’ve never met before, you somehow instinctively know exactly who it is and what their presence means for you.  the inevitability of the situation leaves you feeling less scared than you should be and more tired from the waiting.  in fact you were exhausted, waiting practically your whole life for this, your fear easily overshadowed by your impatience.  defeatedly standing up, you take a step forward, giving your soul to the devil.

he looks at you with what impossibly seems like sympathy.  gesturing for you to present your forehead, you  squeeze your eyes shut and raise your head.  while you feel numb to most of your emotions, you can’t help but feel the shiver of terror that goes through you as you wait with your forehead bared.  after what feels like hours you finally feel a soft touch to your forehead, almost like—

your eyes snap open to find him lifting up from the kiss.  a kiss. on your forehead. he kissed your forehead. wondering if this was a trick to make the resulting torture worse, you look up at his face only to see it engulfed by sadness, tears threatening to fall out of the devil’s eyes.  you don’t understand, this isn’t what you deserve.  finally feeling an emotion, you are panicking.  you had been waiting to be punished, getting what you deserve is what should be happening it’s what needs to happen. ‘it can’t end like this it can’t end like this it can’t end like this it can’t end like this’, repeating in your head.  you hysterically look up to see tears silently flowing out of the monster and belatedly realize you’re sobbing too, echoes of your panicked wailing filling the cave.  desperately trying to spark a reaction, you push the devil hoping he will retaliate but he only stands there, continuing to silently cry for you. 

*LOL GET IT my guilt was my punishment but fun fact: my parents actually did this like they almost never punished me for anything bc my guilt was enough