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freesia-writes · 11 months

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if it's not too much trouble could I request gn reader x crosshair with number 16 🫣 and preferably cross saying the "line"

thanks so much and congrats on 500 followers 😊💕

Never too much trouble. <3 Hope I did it justice!

Crosshair: #16 - "I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…"

Word Count: 2.7k Content: Kissin, Harder Kissin, and general Crosshair a**holery.

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The door to the shop swung open with a dainty tinkle from the bell, and you looked up from your book behind the counter to see who it was. Him again. That lanky newcomer who had originally visited a few weeks ago with a similarly tall, skinny man he’d introduced as his brother. They were both equipped with a curious array of armor, splashed with red accents across the gray, and were quite unique-looking, catching your interest immediately. The first had approached the counter with a squint of scrutiny at the menu, scanning the lists of loose-leaf teas you offered, and the second had simply lurked behind, lazily rolling a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.

“For increased muscular vascularity and general circulation, which of the following options would you surmise is the most concentrated and potent? The cinnamon green tea or the hawthorne root tea?” the bespectacled one inquired, looking up to you and continuing quickly as though his question needed to be justified, “I understand they are both useful for that purpose, but am curious if you’re aware of the concentration levels of your particular strains.”

He was regarding you so earnestly that you couldn’t tell whether to be pissed off or amused, but the eyeroll from his companion behind him pushed you more toward amusement. You made a thinking face, twisting your lips to one side and furrowing your brow, and considered the question. To be completely honest, you didn’t have a damn clue, but didn’t want to appear completely inept. Fortunately, your pondering was interrupted by the impatient lurker.

“We’ll just take four of whichever one tastes the least disgusting,” he hissed, and his smooth, silken voice gave you a surprising case of tingles down your spine. You couldn’t help but laugh at his approach to the matter, and he raised an eyebrow at your levity in response to his seemingly intimidating demeanor.

“Definitely the cinnamon green tea,” you affirmed, turning to begin preparing them at his brother’s shrug and nod. “The hawthorne root is… an acquired taste… Although you might like it.” You directed the last little jab at the brooding one in the back, suddenly emboldened for some reason. He had some kind of magnetism about him, and you were always up for some playful verbal sparring.

“An astute assessment,” the first one chimed in. “Crosshair is particularly fond of things that most others dislike,” he said factually, earning yet another eye roll as his brother turned to wait in a nearby booth, completely ignoring both of you. “I am Tech,” the first one offered, moving the conversation along. “How much will it be?”

You finished your transaction, passed the steaming hot cups to them in a carrier that neatly held all four together, and wished them a good day, watching them disappear out the door, thoughts lingering on Grumpy Toothpick man. His silvery gray hair had made him look older than the other, but his sharp face and brown eyes were not aged at all. You found yourself ruminating with an unnatural amount of curiosity over the next few days, replaying the interaction in your head and trying to nail down what it was that you found so fascinating about him.

They had made a habit of coming in after that, about every few days, sometimes longer. They tried different teas, and Crosshair was occasionally accompanied by different members of the squad. You enjoyed meeting Hunter and Wrecker and smugly noted that Crosshair had been part of the group for every visit. You tried to make small talk, but Wrecker was the only one who seemed to enjoy it, while the rest were not even remotely interested but would put up with it for the sake of civility. Crosshair, however, had developed a little competition with you, where the two of you would exchange little jabs and playful snarky comments each time.

It felt ridiculous, but you felt a growing suspicion that there was a lot more to him than what you were seeing on the surface, and there was an inescapable desire to find out what it was. During one of their visits, while Wrecker bullied a scowling Crosshair in the corner, Tech dropped a data card on the counter, pushing it toward you with a proud look on his face.

“Here is a detailed comparison of the types of teas from across the galaxy, with insightful information about a variety of their uses and applications, as drinks and many other options,” he prattled, tapping it with his finger as he spoke.

“Aw, Tech, thank you! That sounds fantastic,” you answered sincerely, feeling warmed that he had gone out of his way. "That was kind of you to think of me."

“It was Crosshair, actually,” Tech said abruptly, “Although, on second thought, perhaps he didn’t want me to say anything since he made me bring it up here. Disregard that, please.”

You chuckled at the way he treated you like a computer that could be given such straightforward tasks, and also felt a little flutter in your chest at an overt sign of kindness from the aloof sniper. You glanced over at him in the corner, where he was digging an elbow into Wrecker’s side as he held him in a headlock, rustling his gray hair with an oversized hand, and smiled fondly. Once the drinks were made and handed out, the three of them headed for the door, and you decided to go for it.

“Hey, Crosshair, could I have a word real quick?” you said, voice cracking even though you were trying to sound confident.

Without answering, he hung back while the others continued out to the street, slowly turning to face you and leaning against the door frame. They always seemed to visit during the quietest hours, and you were grateful for the lack of an audience as you approached, suddenly becoming aware of his height and how it made his presence a little more intimidating the closer you came.

“Problem?” he crooned, and the reaction within you felt disproportionate. What the kriff was so alluring about him anyway?

“No. I just wanted to thank you for the tea data. That was sweet,” you trying to keep your tone light and easy-going.

“Mm,” he rumbled, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, “Tech found it.”

“Ah,” you said, heart sinking a little at his diversion. “Well, I appreciate it.”

He nodded, sidling out the door without another word.

The next couple of visits had you noticing that Crosshair was notably absent from the group, and you were kicking yourself for scaring him off. But there was also a sense of indignation. He was the only one able to share anything beyond hello and goodbye? You couldn’t quite pin him down but decided to let it go. You didn’t have time for games. Perhaps you'd have engaged in it when you were younger, but now you were more confident in what you wanted and what you were willing to do. Let him reach out if he wanted any sense of connection.

Their visits begin to shift, and the squad would sometimes enjoy their drinks in a corner booth, working on various armor repairs, datapad inquiries, or weapon inspections. You snuck glances as often as you could, marveling at his intimidating rifle as well as the adeptness with which he handled it. You’d always been a sucker for the type that needed to be drawn out of their shell, and you found your mind wandering toward him more often. You did your best to keep your eyes on your book where you sat behind the counter during the quiet hours while they tinkered, chatted, and enjoyed their drinks, but you also did take every opportunity to try to engage him in conversation above and beyond the witty jabs. It felt like he was toying with you, seeming to be more friendly and connective one visit, then being equally aloof and reserved the next. The tension was mesmerizing, and while your friends told you that you were an idiot for entertaining any of it, it was an enticing little perk in your otherwise quiet life.

Until it wasn’t. One day, when you felt as though you were drowning in a cascade of bad news that you had received all at once, from your landlord changing your contract to a hugely painful family divide, Crosshair walked in by himself. It was almost closing time, and the exhaustion of holding up a cheerful façade all day to your customers was wearing you down to the last nerve.

“What’ll it be today?” you asked flatly, as he approached the counter.

“That’s not very good customer service,” Crosshair needled, arching a sharp eyebrow at you. Even his silken purr wasn’t enough to pull you out of your funk, and you slumped onto one hip, eyeing him with thinly veiled frustration.

“I’m not in the mood for it tonight, Crosshair,” you snapped, and both his eyebrows joined together high on his forehead. “What’ll it be?” He squinted and scowled, repeating the usual order and pushing a few credits across the counter. As you picked them up, tapping on the register, you kept your eyes down, unwilling to engage. “Sorry,” you mumbled finally, the anger slowly ebbing away as he quietly waited without pressing. “It’s been the worst day in a long time.”

“Hmm,” he answered, in as much of a sympathetic tone as you believed you’d ever get from him, and you turned to make the drinks. The silence between the two of you was palpable, and where most people would busy themselves with a datapad, or look around, or chat with a friend while they waited for their orders, he stood still, quiet, observing. It was unnerving, and you felt a mess of emotions, simultaneously wanting to punch him and rip his shirt off. You made a mental note to go to bed early, or perhaps to go to a club and forget it all so you could return to your usual clear head.

“Here you go,” you grumbled, pushing the four-cup carrier toward him across the counter. He watched it come his way, then slowly lifted his gaze to your face. You could feel it, and couldn’t resist meeting his eyes, your heart skipping a beat at the smoldering intensity in their amber depths. He slowly moved forward, wrapping his long fingers around the edges of the carrier, and you noticed out of the blue that his mouth was missing its usual toothpick. Why you were looking at his mouth, you didn’t know, but you noticed the slight curve of his thin bottom lip, the gentle peaks of his upper... You snapped out of it, turning to pick up a rag at the far end of the counter and venture out to wipe off some tables.

He smirked at your retreating back, picking up the order and heading for the door. But as he reached it, he set his cups on the table to the side, slowly turning around to meet you where you were furiously scrubbing a sticky spot on the corner booth, taking out all your pent-up frustration via a microfiber towel on its surface. You didn’t even hear him approach, whether it was because he was silent as a cat or you were thoroughly engrossed in cursing various elements of your life, but when his hand suddenly covered yours, stopping your frantic wiping, you startled in surprise, jerking your head up with a slightly embarrassing yelp.

“Geez, Crosshair,” you breathed, not knowing that the way you exhaled his name sent a flush of warmth through his body. “What are you doing?” Truth be told, he didn’t really know, but the simmering interest and desire had been growing within him as well, and your vulnerable state had sparked an oddly protective sense in him. Not that he would ever admit it.

"I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…" he said, voice barely above a whisper, just enough to have that rich timbre that lingered in your ears. An exhilarating chill went through your body, and you noticed he still hadn’t removed his hand from yours. You stared into his face, incomprehensibly severe yet somehow soft, and felt your stomach flip as he tilted his head, regarding you with a gentleness you’d never seen before. “I thought perhaps I could lift your spirits a little,” he purred, and you swallowed. Hard. It was a whirlwind of responses running through your head, from a flushed yearning to an indignant rage. He lowered his head slightly, still gazing at you from beneath his distinctive eyebrows, and you went with the latter.

“What the kriff?!” you began, and he flinched but didn’t recoil. You jerked your hand out from under his, jabbing a finger into his chest as you continued, “You think you can just be hot and then cold, friendly and then distant, and just swoop in thinking you’re hot sh*t all of a sudden?” You took a deep breath, readying another barrage, but he lifted a single, slender finger to your lips, somehow taking all the wind out of your sails.

“Would you like me to leave?” he whispered, and your resolve melted away at the reaction you got from the mere touch of his hand. You shook your head minutely, unable to take your eyes from his, and he instead brushed the backs of his fingertips across your cheek. In all the times you’d imagined what he would be like in a romantic sense (which was never, thankyouverymuch), you’d always taken him for the rough, cold sort -- very different from the warmth and precision with which he was caressing your face. Your hand tightened around the rag as he leaned closer, one millimeter at a time, and breathed his response: “Good.”

Whether it was the culmination of the emotional roller coaster of the day, or the angsty yearning you’d been harboring toward him, or the insanely sensual way he was able to purr a single word and send a hot flash of desire through your very core, it sent you over the edge. You closed the distance between your faces in a second, pressing your lips to his with all the urgency and need that was spilling over. His arms were around you immediately, a tiny, smug chuckle rumbling in his chest as he kissed you, gently at first, then with a slight edge as he nipped your bottom lip. Your hands pressed into his back, fingers tightening with passion.

It felt like a second and an eternity when you separated, taking a deep breath, and you pushed some hair out of your flustered face with a shaky hand. You were flushed across both cheeks, eyes wide with surprise and delight, and stood in stark contrast to the icy cool composure that enrobed him. That incensed you a bit, so you gave him a playful smack on the shoulder, earning a squint in return.

“You don’t get to be totally chill all the time,” you quipped, and his snarky retort was lost in oblivion as he kissed you again. He stepped closer, pressing his body against yours, making your knees feel wobbly. Your hand roved up his neck, fingers weaving through his silver hair, and nestled against the back of his head. He deepened the kiss, flicking then sliding his tongue against yours in a way that sent sparks through your head as your mouths met again and again. You clenched his hair in a gentle fist, eliciting a growl of desire from Crosshair, and you knew you were hopelessly lost.

When you parted minutes later, slightly sweaty and in complete disarray, he released you slowly, his hand lingering on your waist as you leaned against the tall booth backrest behind you. The rest was a blur -- cheesy comments about what had happened, sarcastic retorts, and beneath it all, a new sense of vulnerability, connection, and authenticity. Crosshair took his room-temperature drinks out the door, back to his smooth-moving self, and you stared after him, still in a daze. His foot jammed in the door just as it was about to close, and he leaned back in.

“By the way,” he tossed, “I don’t even like tea.”

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FULL DISCLOSURE -- the setting/meeting of this Crosshair/reader was inspired by this fic by MelMorganne99 on Ao3. I tweaked it to be a tea shop, and it’s not an AU, but still felt as though credit was due. If you’re looking for a long, engaging, fun, amazing AU slow burn with Crosshair and an OC, give it a read!

Roasted, Brewed & Served with Attitude - MelMorganne99 - Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) [Archive of Our Own]

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thedancingcostumeyoungadult · 2 years

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Would you write phone sex with Spencer? Like he is away on a case and calls every night, one night he just needs reader to make him feel better ;) I love love love your writhing❤️

Uhh fuck yes I would, thank you 'Nonnie!!

NSFW under the cut, minors DNI

"Hey lover boy." You pick up on the second ring, a hint of a smile evident in your voice as Spencer feels himself relax a little, settling against the shitty motel pillows.

"Hey sweetheart." He's unable to hide the exhaustion in his voice even as the relief of your voice washes over him and you pick up on it immediately.

"You okay?" Your tone is soft, worried, and Spencer can picture you staring up at him with those gentle eyes that make him weak in the knees.

"Yeah, I'm okay, just really needed to hear your voice." He can hear the rustle of sheets as you let out a small hum and he knows that you're burrowing under the fluffy comforter. The mental image makes his whole body ache for you.

"It's that bad?" Spencer lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. Even though he's the profiler, you can always seem to read him better than anyone else, even over the phone.

"It's that obvious?" He groans as he lets his head fall back against the headboard. You hum in affirmation.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The lump in his throat threatens to choke him. He can't talk about this one, not until it's over.

"No," he manages, "thank you, baby, I just-" The breath he forces himself to take strains at the tightness in his chest. "I need to get my mind off of it for a while."

"So what you're saying is that you want a distraction?" Spencer's heart skips a beat at the shift in your tone, your voice now coming through dark and sultry.

That was not what he had meant, but nonetheless it is an offer he is more than happy to accept.

"That's exactly what I need, sweet thing." He breathes out, already feeling his cock twitch inside his boxers. "Talk to me, beautiful."

"What do you wanna hear, Daddy?" He almost groans out loud when he hears you purr that name. He's hard in seconds. "You wanna hear about how I haven't been able to get you out of my mind? How much I've been enjoying those little marks you left me?" Spencer can't stand it anymore, your words, your sweet, sweet voice already driving him mad as he shoves his boxers down.

"Anything, baby, tell me anything." He grits out as his hand wraps around his throbbing cock, pumping it slowly. His thumb brushes the tip, making him suck in a breath as a thrill runs through his stomach. You must have heard, because you let out a breathy giggle.

"You touching yourself to me already, Daddy?" Fuck, Spencer has never been more grateful for the superhuman memory he possesses, because as he speaks he can picture exactly the look you would give him, your eyes dark and your voice sweet as you would climb onto his lap.

"Yes, sweetheart, you know what you do to me." You did know, he made it a point that you knew. He is wrapped around your little finger and happy to be there.

"Mmmhh, I love the way you get so hard for me. I can't wait for you to get home so I can feel it." Spencer's head rocks back against the pillows as he lets out a rough groan, trying not to drop the phone as you continue. "I've been so wet for you all week, I can't stop thinking about how you feel inside me." He bites down on his lip, fighting back another moan as his pace increases.

"I swear, baby," he pants, "when I get back I'm taking vacation days and I am going to spend the whole time making you cum." The thought of spending days buried to the hilt in you pushes him closer to the edge than he'd anticipated, the muscles in his jaw tensing as his hand works furiously at his cock, the familiar heavy knot forming in his stomach.

"I can't wait, can't wait to be all full of you again, Daddy, I've been so empty." Spencer's lightheaded now, breathless and fucking his fist as a slight whine seeps into your voice.

"Oh fuck, I'm so close baby." The knot in his stomach clashes with the airy feeling in his chest.

"Keep going. I wanna hear you come for me, Daddy, please, let me hear it." Hearing you beg for him makes the wave break and he comes undone, a string of filthy moans falling from his throat as he spills into his hand.

"Christ, sweetheart." He gasps when his head stops spinning. "I don't know how you do that." His head finally clearing, he realizes with a start that he didn't hear any of the moans or breathy whines from you that he usually would.

"Wait, sweetheart, were you not touching yourself?" He asks, a little guilty that he got so caught up in his own pleasure that he hadn't noticed. His guilt is eased almost immediately, your quiet laugh filtering through the phone as you speak.

"Oh, no Daddy, I'm saving that for when you get back."

~taglist~

@reidsbookclub @f-me-reid @spencer-reid-wonderland @dungeons-are-too-cold

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #jeanie writes #ask jeanie #anon requests

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starseneyes · 1 year

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Chenford REWIND- Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 1

That's right, folks, I've been talked into going back to the beginning of Season 5 (which is when I was first talked into watching this show... I'm sensing a theme, here).

SPOILER ALERT: This is going to spoil the entirety of Episode 1 of Season 5, and may reference past The Rookie episodes and Chenford moments. Please abandon ship NOW if you don't want spoilers.

Episode 1 of Season 5 was juicy, but it was also heartbreaking in a number of ways. What do I mean? Well... I'll tell you... after the "Keep reading"...

Previously On... Snogging Your Boss

To catch everyone up, Season 4 ended with Tim and Lucy awkward with one another after they lip-locked while attempting to get under the skin of their alter-egos, Dim and Juicy. That was a delicious scene, but we're in Season 5, now, so let's see where Lucy is...

Dreaming of Said Lip-Lock

Lucy is smiling in her sleep thinking not of her "work in progress"... but of her SO (who she wants to be her SO... if you know what I mean).

I've gone back and forth on whether this is an un-used take, or whether it was shot for the episode. Perhaps one of y'all can illuminate, if you know.

But with the track-around shot being so bloody perfect, and no signs that this alternate angle was used in any of the footage that we see in Season 4's finale, I keep thinking it was shot just for Lucy's dream.

Lucy Chen is having a sexy dream about Tim Bradford. (that one's for my Miggy mutuals out there).

Not only that, but she's making him a little more assertive in her dream... cupping her face with his hand, pushing the kiss deeper as her lips part. Lucy wants Tim to take charge. Yowza!

The knock at her door coincides with the door-interruption in her dream, and Lucy wakes rudely, shaken from the very nice feeling dream. (and then she shakes a very flimsy bed that will need an upgrade if Tim and Lucy are ever to share it... just sayin')

Tamara opens the door (can't believe Tamara c*ck-blocked Chenford in two different episodes in two different realities back-to-back), and steps in. She's worried about her Mom/Roommate.

"I could blow off class, if you want. We could go shopping. See a movie." "I'll be fine. I'm not going to be anywhere near Rosalind. Tim and I are station-bound waiting for the phone to ring." "On your undercover thing?" "Yeah, the original go-time fell through and it's just been radio silent ever since."

Thank you, expositionary dialogue, for helping catch us up. Look, it's one of those necessary evils, sometimes, when you're trying to quickly bring viewers up to speed. Some people can do it well, and some people really can't.

My husband is a huge Star Trek fan. I mean, I'm a fan... he puts the fanatic in fan, if you know what I mean. He has a USS Hood hoodie, for goodness sake.

Anyway, he once learned that there were certain actors who were given all the expositionary dialogue on Star Trek: The Next Generation because others totally botched it. I'll let you figure out who.

Here, with confirmations, affirmations, and back-and-forth dialogue, we've gotten through that a little smoother than if one person monologued it for us.

"This the same undercover thing you and Tim were discussing the other night?"

Mom just got called for making out with her "friend" by her daughter. Yikes! And while Lucy's face screws up trying to determine which emotion to display, Tamara watches, the teenage snark at the ready for anything her Mom uses to deflect.

"I already told you, that kiss didn't mean anything." "Right. Right. It was for the case! Make out. Stop crime. That totally tracks."

Thank God I wasn't drinking anything the first time I heard this line, because I would have spat it clear across the room in a fine spray of incredulity.

Because Tim and Lucy weren't just kissing, there. That kiss had several distinct mouth movements of deepening from lips colliding, to smoothing into it, to a breath of air before diving deeper for more.

Tim was about to go fishing for Lucy's tongue if that door hadn't opened.

Lucy has a lot going on. We know from end of Season 4 that she's aware of her growing feelings for Tim. Watching him fake his engagement struck an unexpectedly dissonant cord.

But that doesn't mean she's ready to face them. Tim having Ashley and her having Chris helps create a boundary... right?

"Go to school!" "Okay. Well, have a great day. With your boss. Who you kissed."

Lucy can try to deny it all she wants, but when Tamara walked in the other night, Lucy's hands were on Tim's chest. Her eyes were closed. His hands were on her arm, and they were decidedly not sharing a peck. They were snogging, and it would have been a while before they stopped—if they stopped—had Tamara not walked in.

And Lucy's been trying not to think about that. Look at how she squirms when Tamara walks out.

Because, while we know that Tim had his Moment of Realization when he left Lucy's sight, she has no idea about any of that.

She knows that they tried to talk about it at work the next day, and he didn't mention anything between them. So, she's compartmentalized that it's all in her head... not knowing he's done the exact same thing.

Because while Tim and Lucy can be very different people, there are places in their lives where they align like mirrored puzzle pieces, designed to fit together, yet unaware until they shift into the right positions (heh).

Both of them are rationalizing, burying, and trying to pretend it meant nothing. For one thing, they're both with other people right now, and neither is a fan of cheating. Secondly, this is a big deal.

Tim hasn't dated within the Station since his wife, and they were Rookies together. Lucy hasn't dated within the Station since she dated Nolan and she swore off cops as potential partners.

Not to mention their friendship that has built over the years. They're finally in a good place. Do they really want to risk this comfortable place where they've finally arrived? Is it worth it?

They don't know, yet. So, they're both spiraling.

"You kissed Lucy?"

Let's not pretend Angela doesn't know what's up. Girlfriend is a detective and she happens to be Tim's best friend. When he was spiraling because Caleb took Lucy, he called Angela. Why? He needed to talk it out.

And much as Tim used to complain about Lucy doing it in the Shop with her love life, he does the same thing... when it comes to Lucy.

Angela knows that Tim needs to talk it out because he's spiraling emotionally, and he doesn't handle that well on his own. So, he needs an outside perspective.

Keep in mind, this is days after their kiss. Tamara said, "the other day". So, not yesterday... but sometime in the last week or so. Tim hasn't been able to get Lucy's lips (and their taste) off his mind in days, so he is finally cracking and calling in Angela for the assist.

"No. No. Dim kissed Juicy. Okay? Or, Jake kissed Sava. Whatever."

Tim, honey, there's a river I need to tell you about... It's one I feel like you must've visited before called... DENIAL. You can't rationalize away feelings, Timmy, my boy. It doesn't work that way.

Angela's smirk game is PEAK at this moment. This is all she needed to know that Timothy is getting in his feels about his former Boot. And, let's be real, Angela knows a thing or two about feelings that can't be denied. She'll be the least judgy about all this... but she'll also be the most brutal in her teasing.

"The point is, we had to be comfortable going undercover, so we practiced being a couple." "How much did you practice?"

Angela Lopez, te amo. You are now my hermana and we're going to get along famously because you called Tim out so effortlessly. I always knew I liked you!

Tim is not happy with it. He really wants someone to agree with him and help him rationalize what he can't loosen from his head (and heart).

Kissing Lucy felt good. Kissing Lucy felt right. He didn't want to stop. He wanted to keep kissing her. And when Tamara walked in, he felt like he'd been caught. Why does he still feel that way?

Why can't he loose the feel of her arms in his hands, the smell of her skin to close to his, the taste of her mouth... and why is he still craving it?

The two of them faced a scare like this at the beginning of Season 4. Presumably, he wasn't dating Ashley, yet, when Lucy spent the night (or half a night) after Jackson's death and Angela's kidnapping.

He'd held her in his arms, then. And even when they'd separated, his left hand was still rubbing up and down, offering comfort as she looked up at him with those big eyes.

Feeling her breath on his neck, he'd abandoned ship faster than Billy Zane's character in Titanic. But he'd thought of her. Heck, we don't know if he might have been on his feet walking to her when he got Wesley's call as she was on her feet coming to him.

But that time he was able to push it down. Kissing her awakened something that's refusing to silence in his brain... an anxious hum that only quiets in the peace of her presence, her arms, her embrace.

Damnit. He never should have taken that UC assignment.

"It was just a kiss. Not that big of a deal." "Then why are we talking about it?"

He's begging her to say the same thing. This is the equivalent of Lucy's "Right?" when she really needs affirmation.

I mean, he doesn't even have a ready answer when Angela asks... and he deflects. Hard.

"Because, what if it wasn't just a kiss for her?"

See? I'm thinking about her not about me.

"You think Lucy has feelings for you?" "No."

And he means that. Tim Bradford doesn't believe Lucy could have feelings for him, that she could love him, that she would ever want to be with him.

And he's never thought about it seriously before, himself. But now it's getting harder and harder to ignore.

"Then she probably sees it how you do—just a weird thing you had to do for work." "Right."

And that's the part he didn't want affirmed... that Lucy feels nothing romantic for him, and it's all in his head.

That's what he believes. Tim has spent his life thinking he was un-loveable. First, my an abusive father. Then, a wife who abandoned him. A girlfriend who chose her dream job.

And, even now with Ashley, it's all wrong. He hates the beach and he's dating a lifeguard who wants to vacation at beaches.

He's trying to make it work because it's the most stable relationship he's had in a while... but it was always rocky and the cracks are becoming more apparent the more he ruminates on this Lucy situation.

Angela notes every second of Tim's discomfort.

"Timothy... do you have feelings for Lucy?" "No!"

Have we ever heard Tim's voice go that high? I'm struggling to remember, but I laughed aloud the first time I watched that and had to rewind to see the rest of the line, which is really all another rationalization.

"No, I'm dating Ashley, and Lucy is with Chris, and I'm her Superior Officer, so..." "All true. Not what I asked."

Because she doesn't need to ask. Angela knows why they are having this conversation, and Tim's growing increasingly frustrated because he wants to believe he doesn't have feelings for Lucy.

But he does... and it's getting harder to deny.

"What'd I miss?" "Nolan got a Golden Ticket."

Now I know Tim Bradford is in love because there was zero commentary on Lucy being late to roll call!

"Your lady squared away?" "Hell, no. You think we don't got lives of our own waiting around on some mystery gig?"

It's the debut of Lucy's take on Sava. Assertive, just like Nova. Just like Lucy.

"Yo. Davion's money." "Davion's handsy. Get someone else."

This isn't Chenford directly, but I love seeing how Tim's not as on top of the UC thing as Lucy. It's not a ding on Tim. It's simply a reminder that Lucy is a natural at this, and that she can manipulate the situation as needed.

Is it always successful? No. But she knew how to keep Tim and Jackson alive during the op when she was pulled over, and she's trying to spare them getting made here.

"Oh! Looking good, Juicy."

Look, I know it's Aaron saying it, but Tim's reacting, too. Look at his face, taking her in.

And it kills me that we don't get a good reverse on his reaction her thong comment. Kills me. I'd love to see Tim "No, I don't have feelings for Lucy" Bradford not react to the idea of the thong she is currently wearing.

"Airstrip. I thought this job was local." "It's not. That a problem?" "Yeah, that's a problem. I travel with three suitcases minimum. It requires precision to look this good."

Again, it didn't work, but Lucy was quick on that response. Lucy, maybe you should really pursue this UC stuff. You're pretty good at it!

Dim and Juicy Roll Up in Tamara's Car

The music's blaring, and Tim and Lucy have left themselves behind. They've slipped into the skin of two flirty, horny, lust-distracted ne'er-do-wells, and I am here for it.

Look, I know we all laughed at the beginning of their kiss scene because Tim and Lucy were so uncomfortable. Now, those who were still alive by the end of the scene know they are perfectly capable of getting coupley with a little prodding.

"You're late." "Yeah, well, our quickie wasn't so quick."

Lucy winds an arm around Tim's waist, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, fitting against one another as though they'd done it a thousand times.

Tim is completely in her space, and though the clothes and personalities are borrowed, we get a sneak peek into a future Chenford. They just fit together so well!

"First, cell phones."

Lucy's POUT and how Tim immediately snaps to her. I'm convinced half of the reason he's so bloody convincing during this whole episode is because he's completely under her spell.

Yes, he did well running solo. But can you imagine if he'd run this op with Nyla or Angela? He might've pulled it off, but not to this degree of believability.

Tim and Lucy turn over their cell phones, and then they're right back to one another's embrace as Dim and Juicy forget anyone else is there.

And this is yet another glimpse at Tim and Lucy's future... Because some part of them is aching for this.

Right now, they can live vicariously through Dim and Juicy and pretend it's completely on the level. "It's not really US. It's THEM! We aren't doing anything wrong."

But it's all about how they feel, and that's quickly catching up with them.

Hands. Hands. HANDS!

Look, the scene where Lucy hands Tim a glass of champagne and drapes herself across me is choice. Lucy drapes herself over him, he wraps his arm around her waist, settling on her thigh, and she places her hand over his.

As he talks and his hands move, hers move with him, like a magnetic pull. They never practiced this. Because the second Tim and Lucy let go and give into the couple shtick, it brings out their natural rhythm.

"Rosalind Dyer escaped."

Sava disintegrates and Lucy is left stunning, sitting atop Tim's lap. Tim notes her shift immediately and grabs onto her hand, much as she grabbed onto his when he pulled her over during her first solo UC op. It's comfort.

While Lucy has led the way for their alter-egos, it's now Tim who comes up with the perfect excuse to get her alone (*ahem*) and invites Juicy to join the Mile High Club.

As the baddies roll their eyes at Dim and Juicy's antics, Tim gets a barely-held-together Lucy into the bathroom and away from their gazes.

Let's be real, any one of us would be reeling, too. The one time Lucy and Tim were in the presence of Rosalind Dyer together, that woman had Lucy spinning out in seconds. It took Tim—her fierce protector—to snap her out of it and silence the singing.

Now, that same fierce protector has to snap her out of it so they don't get massacred above the clouds. It's not a time for kid gloves... it's a time to get her head in the game, or cut their losses. He's not willing to risk Lucy's life for an op*.

*Keep this in mind later in the season

"I'm fine. I can do this." "No. No, you're not. I'm pulling the plug as soon as we land."

Because he knows her. She can't play him, anymore. Yes, there was a time she could get away with it, but he's staring in her eyes and he can feel the fear and anxiety flowing off of her.

"No. Look, the stakes are too high. This is our one chance at Madris. The news threw me for a second, but I'm... I'm fine. I can do this."

And while we all know (Tim included), Lucy is far from fine, he believes she can get her head in the game enough to see this through.

And we all know that's because he is helping her. She always knew that when it was too much for her to deal with, he'd be there to help. Maybe he didn't believe it at the time, but Lucy did. And she was right.

"Okay. Lucy, if you change your mind, you just say the word."

Tim is so commanding in this moment. It's not anything he's lording over her, no. But he's reminding us that he's the Sergeant in this situation, and he is not going to let her go down for an op.

"Wait." "What?" "We're supposed to be hooking up in here."

And that doe-eyed boy truly has no idea what's flying his way.

I'm reminded of Cary Grant's line to Audrey Hepburn in Charade. "When you come on, you come on."

That's Lucy. When she's ready for something, she commit to it completely. Whether it's a moment or a lifetime.

And right now, she's committing to this moment of her lips on his lips, her hands on his body, and her mind on something besides the anxiety and fear filling her from Rosalind's escape.

Lucy grabs ahold of Tim's face with both hands and lunges herself at his lips. He reels back, nearly falling onto the counter behind him. But as soon as his brain begins to process what the hell is happening, his hands easily reach for her.

Tim doesn't waste time, this time. He didn't know if he'd have another chance to kiss her, and he wants this more than he'll admit.

Now, in both kisses, Lucy has her arms between them. So, their bodies aren't pressing together, and that makes Tim's hand placement a little more awkward.

Could be an actor choice. Could be a directing choice. Could be a writing choice.

Whatever the reason, Tim's options are more limited. But as his hand runs up her arm, it becomes less timid, and more sure. He pushes back against her kiss and she moves with him, letting him take point. She needs this.

Lucy could have smeared her lipstick on him. She could have rumpled his clothes. But Lucy needs something to center her right now.

She needs another emotion to draw from besides her fear. And while she doesn't know how Tim feels about her, she knows that kissing him feels good, and right, and comforting.

They transition from Lucy sucking on his top lip to his bottom lip, and her hand finally drops away, giving Tim the space to put his hand in what I believe to be his favorite place—her face.

He wants that skin-on-skin connection. He wants the romance. Tim wants every second of this kiss.

Which is why he says, "More" when she pulls away. Turn up the volume and watch that boy's lips. Tim Bradford is GONE, my friends.

And Lucy's shaking. Melissa O'Neil, herself, confirmed that this was a planted callback to Lucy's hands shaking after Tim resuscitated her in the desert. Lucy's a bloody mess, but she wants to make this work.

Oh, what about Tim? Tim's in bloody shock. Each kiss is progressively worse for his ability to shove those emotions back down. Now he's the one who needs to get his head in the game.

Luck Be A Lady Tonight

I love the glances to one another in the car... the subtle check-ins. These two are such soul-mates.

"Hello, back off." "Must be the new skank." "Who are you calling a skank? You better get the hell outta here. If I see you again, I'm gonna rip this janky ass hairpiece outta your head. Hm?"

Tim and Lucy had no idea that Jake would have a connection at this casino, and getting made is the worst thing that could happen. Lucy leaps into action, and I really think Tim is impressed... and a little turned on.

"She's solid."

We've talked before about how Angela is a good detective, but she's going with Tim's gut on this. And Lucy knows the weight of it. She's not going to let Tim down.

"You're really good at this, you know? The whole Undercover thing." "Thank you."

Tim doesn't give out a lot of compliments, but he's seen Lucy in action, today, and she's been amazing on-the-fly.

Sure, he's watched her undercover ops from afar (and that one time he pulled her over), but this is different. He's been in the moment with her and seen her make moves he'd never think to make.

Also, I love that her way to prove to Tim that she could handle Undercover was to fake her feelings for him. And today's op has been all about embracing those feelings under the guise they are fake.

Is that the definition of irony? I'll have to ask my English-teacher husband.

And I find it fascinating that this praise doesn't activate her Praise Kink. Perhaps it's her aching head or the stress of Rosalind, but she seems more... confused by Tim's compliment.

Maybe she thinks he's complimenting her kissing skills... because, yeah, they're fire together.

"Uh, do you mind if I take the first shower?" "No, it's fine. Hey you hungry?" "Yes! I would get some french fries if you're ordering.

Tim looks up just in time to see Lucy's shirt swish off of her, revealing a bare back. Can you imagine the neurons firing off in that man's mind right now? Now he knows she wasn't wearing a bra the whole damn day.

Tim backs up like he's been struck by something heavy and he turns away, trying to get his brain to start firing and his secondary brain to stop revving its engine.

He mutters about fries as he sits on the bed, trying to focus on the menu in front of him.

But half-naked Lucy is right there, and his eyes drift back to the door, just in time to see her whisk past. He looks away, again... Then back, again.

And, let's be real. If he was struggling not to go after her when she was fully clothed on his couch, imagine how hard he's struggling not to imagine Lucy in that shower... and imagine himself with Lucy in that shower...

And... maybe y'all need a cold shower by now. You good? Good.

But Tim Bradford is far from good. He's so far from good that he turns on sports, and rather than getting lost in the game and upset about any interruptions, he's begging the game to take him away from the thoughts running through his head.

Because he never thought it would come to this. He never thought she would kiss him again. He never thought he'd be in a position where he would have this beautiful woman right there who might possibly feel what he's feeling.

And so Tim Bradford does something I never thought I'd see him do... he takes a leap.

"What?" "Do you want to talk about it?" "About what?" "The airplane bathroom... your apartment... Look, I don't know, call me crazy, but it just doesn't feel like pretend."

Remember I said this episode was heartbreaking? Here's why...

Lucy thinks Tim is calling her out on her feelings for him.

Tim thinks there's something between them and he wants to know if she has feelings for him.

And because Lucy feels caught... she deflects.

"It's an intimate act. We'd have to be dead inside for it to not trigger something, right? It's basic biology."

Tim Bradford took a leap... and then he took a fall. And it kills me every time to watch his face as he takes the rejection. Lucy doesn't want me.

Oh, poor Tim Bradford. He's been rejected over and over by people in his life. So often, he's the one who finds himself broken because nobody sticks around for him. Nobody puts in the effort for him.

It doesn't take a traumatic childhood to make a person feel unworthy of love, but Tim has that and more.

And Lucy doesn't even know how he feels. She has no idea. This was a speech uttered to cover her own growing feelings. But the unintended consequence is that she hurts Tim.

"So you're saying it's not a big deal. Doesn't mean anything." "Right?"

It's a confirmation of what Angela told him at the beginning... Lucy doesn't want me.

And it's not that his whole life was hitched on this notion, but it's yet another rejection in a long, long string of rejections. And Lucy doesn't even know that's what she's done.

The phone rings, deflecting the conversation, and a dejected Tim picks up.

"I'm just alone with Lucy in the hotel room" "Uh-oh."

Literally the last thing he needs to hear right now. But, Angela doesn't know he was just struck down. She's all for some Chenford Sexy Time.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Tim slams the phone down faster than the remote when the Rams toss an interception. Lucy rushes back to the bathroom, and the moment she goes, Tim shakes his head. It hurts.

Tim took a leap. And Tim fell. And now Tim has to add it to his layers of scars.

"Remind me not to take a guy out while I'm wearing a robe. I showed him the entire world right now."

First off, I love that Tim was the damsel in distress in this scene that needed Lucy's rescuing. Second, I believe this is when she starts to think there's something physical between them.

Let's be clear. Lucy has feelings for Tim, but she doesn't think Tim has feelings for her. She thinks he's attracted to her, though. I mean, look how she watches him as he shakes his head. And while feelings are tough for Lucy (more than she'll admit), sex is easy.

"I can nott wait to get out of these clothes." "Yeah. I'm not gonna miss that hair." "I kind of like yours." "Thank you... thank you for walking me up." "No problem."

Let's be honest... Tim is walking Lucy up because he knows as soon as he walks away, they won't have the excuse to be this close together, again. And even though she rejected him (in his mind), he wants to be close to her.

"So, I guess this is it. Tomorrow we are back to being us." "Right. And everything that happened undercover, we will just leave behind." "Right. What happens undercover stays undercover."

I'd shake my head at Tim's comment, but the boy's doing a good job shaking his head at himself. "Why did I say that?" Lucy, however, is ready to test a theory... about Tim's attraction to her.

"You know, in a sense, since we haven't been debriefed, we're still undercover." "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Tim doesn't know where she's going, but Lucy offers a pointed glance at her apartment door. Tim doesn't bite.

Why? Because he's ruled it out as a possibility. He doesn't believe there is any scenario where this is really happening. She already rejected him, right?

Lucy registers his lack of comprehension, though she doesn't realize the reason.

"Do you want to come in?"

Tim is flabbergasted. He doesn't believe what he's hearing, and that man literally short circuits at the realization that this moment is happening. Heck, I was short-circuiting. I thought the fans were making something up when they started tweeting about him accepting an invite to go inside.

Like, is this happening!?

Tim cycles through shock, acceptance, fear, and ultimately lands on right and wrong. He is dating Ashley. And he's not a cheat.

"I shouldn't."

It's not that he doesn't want to. But for so many reasons, he shouldn't go in. Lucy nods, accepting his answer. For her, this isn't a personal rejection (because she doesn't even think that's on the table). It's a sexual rejection, and that's fine.

But as she opens her door and walks in, the light from the door strikes Tim's face. When he looks back, he sees light... and Lucy.

And much as he wants the full relationship... this is what she is offering here and now. And who knows if he'll ever have the chance to be with her, again?

There are no thoughts of Chris and Ashley, right now. The two of them are looking at one another—Lucy on one side of the threshold and Tim on the other—and they are considering this moment and nothing further.

So twice in one episode... Tim Bradford takes a leap.

He crosses the threshold into her apartment, and she closes the door, sealing them in. Tim's eyes wander to Lucy, hesitancy rushing through him. "Should I start? Will she start?"

Lucy has twice jumped the man, but even in her state of wanting him more than thinking about right-and-wrong, she offers him a drink.

"I'm good."

Because up until this point, he thought this was impossible. And now that it is possible, he wants to be completely clear-headed so he doesn't misinterpret anything.

Lucy moves to set her purse down and we finally see... Chris. Lucy opens her mouth as Tim looks to the sky and curses it for this f'ed up situation... only for Lucy to realize Chris is bleeding out.

Tim calls it in without hesitation, and the last thing we see is a terrified Lucy calling out to her greatest comfort (even if she's too scared to admit it)—Tim.

Looking into the Future (since this is a REWIND Meta)

Now... am I glad they didn't start their relationship like this? Hell, yeah. I love that they had the time to step back from this and get to a point where they realized they both wanted it all.

It's not about sex. Yes, that's a part of it. But, this is about two souls crying out for one another and not yet speaking the same language.

They've spent years learning, but that type of love is a lifelong pursuit... and you have to get on the same page, first.

Lucy and Tim aren't there, yet, in this episode. Yes, this episode pushes them closer to one another and those moments to come. It's essential to the development of their relationship. It's another step on their path...

As always, thanks for reading (and persuading me to do this... I do love writing Metas and Chenford make it easy!). Hope to see you on the next!

#Chenford #Tim Bradford #Lucy Chen #Melissa O'Neil #Eric Winter #Lucy x Tim #Tim x Lucy #The Rookie #The Rookie Meta #Chenford Meta #Am I Mad For Doing Another One Of These

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my-castles-crumbling · 19 days

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Hey Cas! I hope you're doing well. Is it all right if I ask for some advice? It's totally cool if you're busy, no pressure at all.

so for a while now i've been feeling really empty. like doing nothing. the things i used to like doing have become chores, and all i really want to do is sit there. i just feel like i'll never be satisfied, there's always something more, that i'll never live life enough, so why bother? i don't feel like doing anything but i feel like doing something at the same time. and i'm used to it by now, but lately i'm dissociating around others, and i don't care about what they have to say. it's getting harder to pretend like i'm happy and smiling, harder to pretend like i genuinely care. i honestly just want to let the mask slip and let myself act apathetic - which i know makes me an awful person and i'm sorry.

anyways i guess what i'm trying to ask is will it always be this way? sorry for the rant, and thanks for your time. <333

Hi hon! <3

So, I'm not a professional, but this sounds an awful lot like depression, and it's not a fun feeling at all. It's horrible to feel like this all the time, and you're right: it's not the way to live life.

There's some good news, though. It's not always gonna be like this, and there are so many ways to get help. I think right now, you need to tell someone you trust in your life that you are feeling this way. Maybe a parent, teacher, doctor, some other adult? They can help you decide if maybe you need to talk to someone about this.

You are NOT an awful person and you deserve to feel happy and fulfilled. Remember that you are so worthy of living your best life, and asking for help is going to get you there. Also, I have definitely felt like you're feeling, and I can be the first to tell you that it really DOES get better. If you ever need to talk, I'm here <3

(Also I am naming all the anons who write to me in case they want to write in the future, and I am using a random positive affirmation generator to do so. So I dub thee: fantastic anon. Enjoy your free tag!)

#ask #asks #ask cas #fantastic anon

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dearmahiru · 6 months

Text

waaaa thank you so much for this question that i definitely didn't take three months to answer. i totally didn't overcomplicate this very simple question for myself and ending up with completely different songs each list! no siree!! (and i totally didn't lose the og ask </3)

sarcasm aside—even though the question didn't specify these would be official covers i went into the list with that mindset, so i narrow it down to strictly vocaloid songs (no utaite or general jpn songs!), the song must be consistent with the prisoner's style (kotoko wouldn't sing a sappy love ballad, yuno isn't doing a screamo), and no producer doubles!

alts are songs that don't fit these rules / aren't my first pick but i still wanted to mention :3c

01. Haruka ─ First Train and Kafka

Though I’ve nothing but things I want to say, I’m sorry that nothing comes out I’ve become a poisonous bug, it isn’t that interesting though

Since my frightened family isn’t even here, I look down upon the calm of the city alone That hair of yours that swayed in the first summer’s wind came to mind

Alt: I Was Human

02. Yuno ─ Goodbye, Ms. Flower Thief

I've been dreaming a dream within a dream, within a dream Seaside, on the seaside, a kitten's sweet demise...

While I smoke a cigarette Until morning comes, hold me, hold me...

Alt: I Think I'm Falling Inlove With My Teacher

03. Fuuta ─ Idola No Circus

Come, let’s dance all night in our naked bodies We know, we know your true nature Again putting on a fake face You’re just like a pierrot

Come on up to the stage! You knew, didn't you? You’re also an accomplice

Alt: Rinne

04. Mu ─ Ikanaide

"It's nothing," I kept to myself. Truth is, I wanted to stop those footsteps for a moment, But you're gliding forward with such quick steps And I'm simply watching

You fade out of sight, far, far away, leaving me behind. Completely. Once again, the night blurs itself out, Don't cry, just don't cry

Alt: FAILURE GIRL

05. Shidou ─ Shoujo Fuzei

Again, she told a lie and felt relieved with perfectly trimmed bangs, she said, "Come here, and accompany me to hell."

Chop it up, this body doesn’t feel anything like pain Unfortunately, delusion is something that everyone harbors

06. Mahiru ─ Love of Love By Love For Love

A spider lily struggling to live, A heart writhing with maggots With your voice and your smile My pulse began beating anew

That day, I fell in love with love With time, I killed that love, killed it, killed it

Alt: Hurry To The Night

07. Kazui ─ Cutlery

The cutlery is rusted, as if it has been used often. I want you to end it in the worst case...

Before I get sick of you, I’ll act selfishly without hesitating even if I’ll end up losing you.

Alt: Charles / Delusion Girl / Quiet Room

08. Amane ─ Milk Crown On Sonnetica

Can't do it, such a talent isn't sold in any store Even God, who art in Heaven, reduces such a junk to a heirloom?

You ask "Wait, why is it that you beg for forgiveness in such a miserable manner?" This was surprisingly silly - so much that I just stood still and cried

09. Mikoto ─ Bitter Choco Decoration

I try not to forget to add in a few light-hearted jokes and a touch of lip service I try to smile and show off my charisma whenever I can

I try not to pointlessly expose myself, Not to talk about myself, not to understand myself But I try not to be a bit too silent, To be laughed at rather than to make people laugh

010. Kotoko ─ Shama

A femme fatale prisoner dressed in stripes Gulps down the juice squeezed from the crowd Every night, drunkenly, she plays with fire, and hangs herself When the wax figure of a little girl melts

If you affirm your shallowness Then where’s my ground to stand on? "An annoying glass and foundation Hang your tongue out, just like a dog."

#wasn't sure whether i wanted to explain but i thiiiink alot of them are self-explanatory so i just shrugged #also if you think some of these were low hanging fruit its because they are 👍 i was in the trenches here digging through songs #kotoko baby im so sorry you deserve a better song but ive been listening to shama and its the only thing that was popping up #♡. cinnamon lovemail

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queerprayers · 11 months

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I’ve been following your blog for a while now, and it’s really been helping restore my relationship with faith. So firstly I want to say thank you. <3 I also wanted to ask how you learned to deal with adversity so well? I’ve seen other blogs on here that frequently invalidate queer christians and openly say they are not valid. How can one believe in a god that would “make all people in his image” but then turn around and tell his people to hate what he had created?

Welcome, beloved! I'm so glad this can be a good space for you and you're very welcome. My ability to deal with adversity is actually currently being tested because I wrote out a complete response for you and Tumblr did not save my draft!!! And yet we press on. Hopefully this second try from scratch is still helpful/relevant. Please assume any lack of genius is because I used it all up the first time around. :)

I'm honored you think I deal with adversity well—I have a long way to go but I am proud of where I am. Partially I've learned because I had to learn. My greatest wish was to continue being in faith communities as myself, and that sadly inherently puts me in adverse situations. I'm lucky to generally have experienced passive/"well-meaning" homophobia in my daily life rather than active violence or abuse, but it is of course still a hardship. In many ways I am not given a choice—if I live as I am, this is what I will experience. I wish this were not the case, but it is—which means part of fulfilling my journey (existing as I am within my faith) means dealing with adversity, and because of my beliefs, I strive always to deal with it in loving ways.

I know I am connected to generations of Christians experiencing adversity, both from within and outside the church, and, like many of them, I have decided it is worth it to not give up my allegiance. To be clear, I have immense empathy and respect for those who leave the church for these reasons, and I would never shame them or consider them cowardly/weak—for those I know it has been an act of bravery, strength, and self-preservation. I want everyone to be free to make that choice—and I have (sometimes grudgingly) chosen to stay.

I similarly have empathy for those who attempt to repress or choose to hide/keep private their sexuality/gender—this is a very painful experience that I wish no one had to go through, but some are driven to it. There are generations of Christians (and queer people of all religions/cultures) who have experienced this, and it's often a choice between coming out or keeping your family/community/even life. Ultimately, some people do not wish to come out, not or ever. I do encourage people to be honest with themselves and God, and try their best to seek out affirming communities for their own health/well-being and ability to freely serve God, but again, this is a choice we are free to make—and I (joyfully and painfully, in an uncomfortable but safe environment) have chosen to be out.

I've had to learn how to curate my space on the Internet and generally avoid debates with strangers—my current rule when deciding whether to give someone time when they approach me with abuse is to ask, "Would answering this be useful (to me, to them, to those who might read it)?" and "Are they saying anything worth thinking about?" Often, the answer is no. Someone telling me to kill myself does not want to have a conversation, and there's nothing to respond to. But if someone shares a specific opinion, or cites a Bible verse, or criticizes a specific belief, then there's something there that could be useful to address. And then, of course, protecting myself is also relevant. It takes energy for me to write anything, but doubly so when I know the other person isn't approaching the conversation with the same love I attempt to. If I have the energy, and feel like there's something to actually say, sometimes I'll say something.

Whether I'm responding or deleting, I am called to keep moving with prayer and love. I can't let my beliefs go out the window when I get hurt or angry (although that happens to all of us sometimes). And always always I remember that it's never about me. Homophobia comes from ignorance/fear/disgust, and although I am sometimes the one directly addressed, I am not what these people have an issue with. Problems with me living as a Christian generally come from past trauma, ideological issues with certain theologies, or ignorance/disrespect of religion generally, not me existing. Again, I'm the one being addressed, but their (often justified) anger is not about me. I'm not trying to make excuses for people, but I am making the space for my own compassion and their ability to grow, as my religion has taught me. (Obviously this doesn't include instances in which I might be the one who has made a mistake/caused harm; I'm talking about unjust adversity people experience, not consequences of actions.)

I will point out that it is much harder to deal with people like this in person. Writing involves distance and time from the aggressor. I can take a deep breath, wait a few days, choose whether to respond, and reread my words before sending them, thinking about how they might be received. But on the street? In school hallways? There is no distance and no time, and there is sometimes a lack of physical safety as well. This is when I have most often given in to anger, or meeting disgust with disgust. Obviously this has often been self-protection and survival, and I do not fault myself or anyone for not meeting oppression with perfect calm—this is impossible and not a value everyone holds. (That's a whole 'nother discussion!) When possible, though, I do try to do what I do here—if I feel safe, if I have the energy, I'm open, I ask questions. People filled with anger/fear/disgust/ignorance often can't keep it up for long.

Why do people hate, especially when they claim to value love? I don't have definite answers, although I've provided some already. I do know that most of the homophobic people I know are not abusive/violent—they are well-meaning and put-together. They genuinely want what's best for people, and think that guiding people toward repression or conversion therapy or mandated celibacy will guide their life towards God. This is a deeply mistaken perspective, that causes real harm and is full of ignorance, but I do not experience it as hate (although there is a violence present). They think I am not whole as I am, and think that loving me involves fixing me. This is not loving, but it is something I can understand more than outright abuse. It's another kind of adversity, one that sometimes hurts more long-term, partially because I can understand it more—I can't dismiss it. And these people have a hard journey—admitting they're wrong means admitting their whole worldview is broken, but also often includes making this judgment about their family/community, and might mean losing it. Again, I do not seek excuses, but context and space.

In my life, I prove them wrong by living wholly, fully, and openly. I cannot make them see my happiness—we cannot force people to open their eyes. But we can show them light where we can. We cannot save them alone, but they can be saved, and they will be. ("Save" here meaning to fully experience love, not conversion or avoidance of a traditional Hell.) I know my patience and love (the little of it I can sometimes reach) can help people, because people have told me it has, and this an honor and a privilege and an overwhelming stress and a gift from a universe I cannot move. If the way I have chosen saves even one person, it is worth it—and if we include me, then it definitely has, but even if we don't, I have witnessed others' hearts change. Moving and writing and speaking with love will not fix everything, it is not magical, but Love will save all of us—They already have. Love (who is God) is with us, even when we cannot feel it, even when we don't have the energy to comprehend it, even when we are blinded and scared and cannot admit we are wrong.

My beliefs inherently make room for people to change, even when this truth makes me mad, even when I wish I could just give up on people. Christianity, at its best, equips us to take a deep breath and remember what we were made for. As Pentecost arrives, I hold the Spirit close—I've never spoken in tongues or been set on fire (and not to jinx it but I don't really desire to), but I've felt the wind on my face and bird-watched in my backyard and sat around a bonfire with people I love. I have so far to go, and the road rises to meet me.

In summary, TL;DR, don't mean to rant but always do: I learned to deal with adversity because I had to, and with practice, while honoring others, while figuring out a path of love in this weird and confusing life, even as I fail at what I set out to do all the time, God sees what I do in the name of survival, and gives me the strength to keep going. I know anger and fear and disgust and ignorance because they're in everyone; I know what it is to believe something and do things that go against that, because I do it all the time; I know what it is to hang on to things I've been taught even when they're harmful, because I've done that. We can only pray that they do not overtake us as they overtake those who hurt us.

Blessings to you as we move through an inhospitable world (and website). May we do all the good that we can.

Grant, O God, that your holy and life-giving spirit may move every human heart, that the barriers which divide us may crumble, suspicions disappear, and hatreds cease, and that, with our divisions healed, we might live in justice and peace; through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. —Lutheran Book of Worship (1978)

<3 Johanna

#asks #alright. take: 2. tangents: 12. hotel: trivago.#happy early pentecost!

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skzddicted · 1 year

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Hellaur, this is my first ever request. Can you write a fic about bangchan/ han jisung/ Minho/ changbin comforting sad/hopeless reader? Im having a very hard time keeping up my grades, I've been studying for 14 hrs everyday just to ruin my most important exam. All my friends seem to do well when they're not even working as hard as me. I'm ready to study more but I keep losing hope. Idk what to do, I'm losing hope for getting into my dream University T T. Thank you so much bestie, for listening to me.

hii love i’m SO so sorry this took ages i rewrote this so many times with so many different scenarios until i was able to decide on one,,,i hope you enjoy this!! also about your exams, i can’t quite say i’ve been in your place but i can imagine what it’s like,,, maybe try to give your brain a break instead of studying even harder bcs sometimes that just exhausts you and you’ll burn out and this won’t do you any good!! please take care of yourself and i’ll be rooting for you, you can make it!!♡

[1:05pm]

genre: hs au, comfort

warnings: failure (not sure if i should put this here but just in case), use of “baby” platonically

minho+3racha x reader (friendgroup/platonic)

pls reblog if you enjoyed!!<3

the hallways were full of students with various emotions displayed on their faces.

some were jumping up and down and cheering excitedly, while, oppositely, some others looked upset and confused, a few were crying even, and some just looked like they simply did not care.

it was results day for the midterm exams you took two weeks ago.

your friends minho, chan, changbin and jisung had already checked their results on the board that was hung up and were now gathered in front of the main entrance, waiting for you to come out; however, you were a nervous wreck in the restroom trying to calm down and build up the courage to go and look at your results, trying to convince yourself that it can’t be that bad.

after what felt like an eternity of deep breaths and positive affirming, you stepped out into the crowded hallways, making your way to the boards. as soon as you got to them you started searching for your name.

and that’s when your heart dropped.

oh.

it was even worse than you had expected…?

you were on the verge of tears, hopelessness creeping up on you. you had done everything you could and yet it was still not enough. so many people who were putting less effort than you were doing much better, so why was it so hard for you?

with your head hung low, you started walking towards the exit wanting to do nothing but to go home and drown in your tears right now. well, that was until you heard your name being called as you were walking out of the building.

looking up you could see jisung, one of your best friends, practically running towards you, the rest of your friends following suit behind him.

“y/n, i passed!” he nearly yelled in your ears, while shaking you by your shoulders.

"congrats, ji” you sent him a small smile; you were genuinely happy for him but your own grades were making it hard for you to match his excitement.

multiple ‘hey’s’ from the other three boys sounded as they got closer, making you lift your hand for a little wave in response, “hi.”. and even through just a little greeting, they could already tell your mood was off.

“y/n what’s wrong? is it your results?” minho was the first one to ask, to which, you gave him a nod, feeling your tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

“oh, baby” jisung embraced you in a tight hug.

“all my efforts were for nothing, i spent weeks studying only for this to be the outcome.” you sobbed out.

“it’s okay baby, it happens sometimes.” chan tries to sooth you, “exactly, plus it’s not like this is the end for you, we still have finals and we’ll prepare well together for those, okay?” changbin adds.

“oh, don’t even remind me,” you chuckled a little, lifting your tear stained face from jisung’s chest. “yup, we don’t wanna hear nothing about school or any exams for this whole break.” minho chimed “now, how about we go get some food and go over to my place? remember? we planned a sleepover?”

right… there was something about a sleepover chan had texted you yesterday. you nodded and soon the four of you were running to catch the bus to your favorite food place.

masterlist

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wild-karrde · 1 year

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In Command - Part 7

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A/N: ALRIGHT KIDS, from here on out, this fic is rated E. This is an 18+ blog and minors shouldn't be here anyway, but in case it needs saying, MINORS SKEEDADDLE.

I didn't originally write the fic this way because I wasn't sure I was comfortable writing smut at that time, but I've done a lot of thinking on the rewrite and feel that it fits with the story. I didn't want to write anything that felt forced, but I do feel that the moments that will be included add to the story rather than just checking the box to make it "E" rated, you know? If you want to read a rated M version of this fic, you can do so on AO3. Anyway, THANK YOU as always to the outstanding @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this and talking through all the concerns/worries I had about this (and ultimately giving me the final bit of assurance I needed to change the story in this way).

Chapter Rating: E

Warnings: explicit sexual content (oral sex, PiV sex, cum eating, masturbation), suicidal thoughts mention, language

Word Count: 5.6k words

Somehow, even through a hologram, Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan carried a distinct amount of approachability and respect that made it easy to see why he had been one of the most revered government officials of the Galactic Republic. While some of his notoriety seemed to have lapsed amongst his colleagues in favor of more loyalist politicians, he still held a kind and welcoming demeanor that made him easy to trust. Even as Rex updated him on their acquisition of the decryption disk, he smiled, nodding engagingly at Rex as his image flickered on the holoprojector in the clone captain’s hand.

“This is excellent work. And you’re right Captain, this could potentially be very significant. If you and Specialist Aven can create several copies of the decryption disk, we’ll send a courier and ensure that they get into the right hands.”

“Roger that, sir. Senna’s already working on it.”

Senna smiled to herself from her place out of view of the hologram. She could admit she was proud of what they’d accomplished, but she certainly hadn’t expected any recognition for it. She’d always thought a lot of Organa though, so having the affirmation come from him and Rex warmed her from the inside out.

“Excellent.” Even through the pixelated image, it was clear that Organa was unsettled about something.

“Is there…something else, sir?” Rex asked.

The hologram flickered again as the Senator ran one hand through his dark hair, which Senna noted had accrued more grey along his temples. “You two have already given us everything that we could hope for and more in terms of intelligence on Lothal, but I fear we have more to ask of you,” Organa replied, clearly hesitant.

The ‘we’ had always been something Senna never openly questioned, but it was something she pondered about often, unsure of who else was standing with them in this enterprise. There had been rumors of other less-organized rebel cells that had been wiped out by the Empire with little effort, and she wondered once more if their luck held because of their powerful benefactors that somehow managed to divert attention away from them. She understood the need to limit information on who exactly was involved, particularly if they worked in the Senate, but that didn’t keep her mind from looking for clues along the way.

The senator from Alderaan was still speaking. “This…superweapon that you’ve caught wind of is very concerning. We’ve heard mention of it from other colleagues with similar interests, so it appears that this may be more than Imperial posturing over comm networks. We need the two of you to try and glean as much information as you can about it.”

“We’ll do our best, sir,” Rex assured.

Wonder who those ‘other colleagues’ could be, Senna wondered for the thousandth time, biting her tongue as she remained out of view. If he’s hearing about it, then surely its other Senators. Right? Or maybe they have someone on the inside? That seems less likely.

“Do you have any promising sources that you could lean on or persuade to help us?” Organa asked, interrupting Senna’s silent speculations.

Senna turned to look at Rex. He normally took these calls alone, but lately he’d started allowing her to listen in. She assumed it was a sign of their trust and partnership growing, but even still, she was surprised when Rex motioned her over to stand within view of the holo’s communication field. She hesitantly walked across the room to stand next to him, keeping a respectable distance between the two of them.

“I’ll defer to Senna on that one,” Rex stated, and she didn’t miss the hint of pride in his voice. “She’s been instrumental in creating sources where I wouldn’t have thought possible. All of the people I’ve attempted to get information out of are ill-informed at best and proudly obtuse at worst.”

Senna felt a heat in her cheeks at his praise and bit back a sheepish grin. “Yes…um. I think that perhaps our neighbors have been exhausted in terms of significant information. Brak is vain, but he’s not stupid. He knows where the line is in terms of sharing information. I honestly think the initial mention over dinner was an uncharacteristic slip, and I don’t think we’ll necessarily get more out of them unless we get extremely lucky.”

Organa nodded, stroking his beard in contemplation. “What about the Imperial commander we initially got the disk from? Do you think he’s of any further use?”

Senna’s stomach dropped at the mention of Fisk, and she felt Rex’s eyes on her, gauging her reaction. She steeled herself, jutting her chin out defiantly.

Not about to let that piece of bantha shit get under my skin. Not while he’s still useful.

“I do, Senator. Commander Fisk is eager to break protocol, particularly since he believes I find that trait…alluring.” She heard Rex make a quiet noise next to her, although she couldn’t be sure if it was a huff of a laugh or a snort of disgust. She pressed on anyway, ignoring him. “I am positive we can glean more information from him, and I am confident he has higher clearances than Brak. He may know the specifics of the weapon that would prove helpful to our cause.”

Organa did not appear to note her discomfort, but Rex’s eyes never left her. She avoided looking at him as the senator paced a few more times before responding. “Very well. Keep working him, and see if you can build out additional sources. I’ll alert you once we have a courier to come and pick up the disks. Keep me apprised of any new developments.”

“Yes sir,” Rex and Senna murmured in unison.

“May the Force be with you both.” The hologram faded in Rex’s hand, and Senna slowly let a breath out next to him.

“You know, you don’t have to keep working Fisk if you’re uncomfortable. We can find another way,” he said quietly.

Ah there it is. Knew he couldn’t help himself.

“This is the best way, and you know it,” she sighed, fighting the urge to smile at Rex’s concern. “The information he’s willing to give up is just too good. I’ll be fine.”

“We could tell the senator how he treats you, and I’m sure he’d stop pressing the matter.”

“I said I’m fine, Rex,” she replied with a little more heat than intended.

He sighed defeatedly. “Alright. When are you meeting him next?”

“Not sure yet. Maybe he doesn’t want another date.”

“Those types of men always want another date.”

She looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Stereotypes, Rex? I thought you’d be above all that.”

“Mhm,” he grunted noncommittally.

Senna nudged him with her shoulder. “Come on. It’s time to eat. I’m starving.”

—

The two of them had made a habit of eating at least one meal a day together since Empire Day. Before, they’d hardly seen each other throughout the day, cautiously avoiding one another if possible, but with the easing of tensions between them, they had both felt more comfortable around each other with every passing rotation.

It had started one day when Senna made a large batch of noodles as usual, choosing to eat at their small dining table with her datapad in hand rather than slinking back up to her cave. Rex had returned home, helped himself to what was left, and plopped down across from her. Neither of them had noted the moment as exceptional, but it immediately became a habit after that.

They normally talked through the intelligence that they had gathered throughout the day, making connections and comparing notes while Senna punched info into her datapad with the hand she wasn’t using to eat. The conversation also occasionally turned to personal questions as they took more time to get to know each other. No matter the subject of conversation, it had become a small ritual that Rex looked forward to.

Even though he was home earlier than usual for the meeting, Senna had volunteered to cook tonight, and it didn’t take long for the scent of roasting meat and spices to permeate throughout the dwelling. Rex helped where she would allow him, chopping vegetables or stirring whatever she had simmering on the stove. A short while later, they sat down at the table together with two bowls of stew and rice, Senna’s nose already partially buried in her datapad. After a few moments, she let out a deep sigh and set the datapad down, tipping her head back and scrubbing her hands over her face.

Rex paused mid-chew to glance up at her. “What’s wrong?”

Senna leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and Rex had to stifle a chuckle at how her hair was now sticking up at odd angles from her frustrated mussing. “Oh nothing,” she muttered. “I just set up the next meet up with Fisk. We’re going to dinner together next week at some Imperial haunt. Can’t wait to get that over with.”

He paused, choosing his words carefully and knowing they may still start an argument. “Senna, again, you should tell Organa that you aren’t comfortable. He’d be mortified if he knew what you’re enduring with Fisk. I don’t think he’d consider it worth it.”

She rolled her shoulders, picking at her food. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine. Besides, he’s not the worst guy I’ve dated.”

Rex couldn’t stop himself from raising an eyebrow at that. “Oh? I sense there’s a story there.” She shot him a look, and he smirked, giving her an innocent shrug. “Just making conversation. Plus, I thought attachments were forbidden for the Jedi,” he teased.

Not that that stopped some of them.

She sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “He was just a guy I met shortly after the war ended, so at that point, not technically a Jedi anymore. I was looking for a soft place to land, and he certainly seemed like it at the beginning. Wasn’t the worst lay, and I had some things I was working through, so he was at least good for that much. But…things changed pretty quickly once he…” her voice trailed off.

“Once he what?” Rex pressed, trying to keep his eyebrows from rocketing up to his hairline at Senna’s casual demeanor. He’d known that some Jedi did go looking for physical comfort when they felt like it, but to hear it laid out so nonchalantly still surprised him, especially coming from the woman who seemed more interested in a circuit board than any one human.

She met his eyes again. “Once he started expressing anti-clone sentiment every chance it came up in conversation.”

Rex remained silent as she continued, still poking at a chunk of meat in her stew.

“I don’t understand how people can think that way. You are all living breathing things, you’re no different from me other than how you came to exist. Behaving as though you shouldn’t have the basic right to life and happiness of every other sentient thing is just absolutely deplorable.”

Rex hesitated before speaking, choosing his words carefully. “We were created for a specific purpose, to be soldiers. In some people’s eyes, that makes us equivalent to the droids we fought against. Disposable.”

“But how could people think that way? You…you’re people, Rex.”

“You don’t have to tell me. But, not everyone served alongside us in the war like you did.”

Senna’s eyes practically glowed with anger. “You shouldn’t have to spend time with someone to decide they’re worthy of empathy.”

Rex nodded. The way in which a vast majority of the galaxy viewed him and his brothers had been a difficult thing to come to terms with at first, but ultimately, he had decided early on not to let it weigh too heavily on his mind. Instead, he’d chosen to focus on the good in people that did treat the clones with respect. And keeping his brothers alive.

There was supposed to be a time and place to worry about the rest of it. After the war.

Senna was watching him carefully.

“What?” he asked.

She gave him a small smile. “Nothing. It’s just…you have a very charitable view of the galaxy. One that I didn’t expect from you.”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a bit of a grump sometimes, Rex.”

He chuckled at that. “And you aren’t?”

“I never said that.”

Silence hung between them for a few moments before Rex spoke up. “For what it’s worth, I do appreciate how you and other Jedi treated my brothers and I. I just didn’t see a reason to expend much energy trying to change the minds of people that didn’t respect us. At least not when I was still fighting a war.”

“That makes sense,” Senna conceded. “And it gives more grace than is deserved. It just turns my stomach when I hear people talk like that. I formed some of the strongest friendships I’ve ever had with your brothers. They were my family during the war. And you. It’s the same with you.”

Rex quietly sipped his drink, not sure how to respond. He did his best to ignore the fluttering in his chest.

“I take it you ended it then,” he finally joked.

Senna sniffed. “And broke his nose.”

Rex snorted out a laugh. “Atta girl.”

Senna appraised him, raising her glass to her lips. “So what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have any horrific romantic encounters to regale me with?”

He laughed. “No, I’m afraid not. I’ve had people come in and out of my life, but never any that were serious enough to be classified as a ‘partner’. Wasn’t exactly much time during the war for anything other than the occasional encounter, and I haven’t really made time since.”

Senna giggled, covering her mouth. “Now, that is unexpected.”

“Oh, so you’re allowed to blow off steam and I’m not?” he countered.

“It’s not that! You just strike me as a serial monogamist rather than someone looking for a one-night stand. Someone interested in the long haul or nothing at all. A gentleman and romantic,” she teased.

Rex huffed a laugh, wrapping his hands around his glass as he contemplated her words.

“In another life, you’d probably be right,” he agreed.

Senna was silent for a few moments. “Is it something you want?” she finally asked quietly.

He thought about it, his mind drifting to Cut and Suu and their children. He had seen firsthand what life outside of the war could look like, and it had appealed to him at the time, but everything changed with Order 66.

“Yes, if the time and the person was right, I think I would. It’s hard to imagine it anymore, but there was a time I thought having a farm with a wife and children would be what I’d do after the war.”

“A farm huh?”

“It seems quiet, and quiet would have been nice.”

Senna gave him a sad smile. “And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am.” He traced some of the condensation on his glass with his thumb. “Still fighting.”

She chewed quietly for a few minutes, and he watched her mull over the next thing she wanted to ask.

“Do you ever regret not walking away after the war? Just hiding out on some remote world, starting a new life?” Her gaze grew distant with the question.

Rex thought about it for a moment. “Sometimes. But this is the only life I’ve ever known. It’s what’s right, and if I had walked away from it all, I’m not sure I’d be able to sleep at night. Not that I do much of that anyway,” he joked dryly. “You?”

Senna fidgeted with the end of her braid. “Not to uh, get too dark here, but after Order 66, I felt like I had no real reason to…stick around.” The words she chose to use didn’t soften the blow for Rex. He felt his stomach twist as he imagined Senna, feeling so alone and hopeless that she’d consider such a path.

Her gaze was focused on a point well past him, reaching back for those memories. “I’d lost everything I’d ever known and loved. It wasn’t like I was planning to stick a blaster in my mouth necessarily, but if I’d been hit by a speeder or a rogue meteorite, I would have welcomed it. As it happened, I just wandered aimlessly until I stumbled onto Gerrera and his people. And then, it was like I had a purpose again, a reason for living. I’d never really given thought to life beyond the war because I didn’t think I needed to. I was going to keep tinkering at the Temple, maybe take a Padawan if it struck me. But my life was very much laid out before me in fairly narrow margins until everything fell apart.”

He listened silently as she picked at her food some more, slowly meeting his eyes with a small smile. “Sorry, really bringing the mood down huh?”

Rex shrugged again. “I asked. Not your fault it’s a sad story. And knowing who you are, what you are, it’s not shocking that it ended that way.”

“At least it didn’t completely end, I suppose.”

He raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

Senna gave him a soft smile, gently clinking her glass against his in a toast.

“Yeah alright.” She popped the last bite of food into her mouth. “I’m gonna go tinker in the shed for a bit. Want to make a few more adjustments to the speeder bike.”

“Just make sure you put it all back together, alright?”

“Yes, Lon,” she said sarcastically as she stepped out the back door.

Rex rolled his eyes, rising to clear the remnants of their dinner from the table.

—

The night was cool and clear as Senna made her way through their backyard and along the outer wall to the back door of the shed. It helped take the edge off the memories she’d dredged up at dinner. A weight had settled into the pit of her stomach while she recalled her aimless drifting after the war. It had been the most lost she’d ever felt in her life, and she’d wandered blindly from planet to planet, barely acknowledging anything going on around her. All of that had changed when she met Saw Gerrera.

Senna still couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had made her trip the stormtroopers by knocking over several crates, but in that moment, everything had changed. Gerrera had taken her under his wing immediately. She’d thought she’d seen his sharp green eyes dart to her hip where her lightsaber was concealed once or twice, but he’d never asked if she was Force sensitive. It seemed he’d been very grateful to have help in that moment, and that seemed to be enough for him. It was such a small moment that put her back on her path, a hand reaching down to her when she was at her lowest, and no matter what, it was a debt she felt she’d never be able to repay, but she would expend her last breath for the rebellion if it was called for.

She punched the unlock code into the door panel and slipped into the shed. The speeder bike was still on the lift where she had left it, and she turned on the lights, humming as she gathered the tools she’d need to finish repairing it. Satisfied that she was equipped with what she needed, Senna crawled underneath the lifted bike, inhaling the smell of engine grease. She relaxed her shoulders, letting them settle against the dusty ground before she let her fingers drift up to the power coupler wiring she’d been fiddling with earlier, and it was as if everything else slipped away.

This was where she felt the most peace, with machinery and her tools. She worked carefully, soldering wires together and tightening bolts as grease smeared down her forearms, humming quietly to herself. After an hour or so, Senna smiled, satisfied at her upgrades.

“That should do it,” she muttered to herself. “Or at least get Rex off my back. Now where did I put that ten mil wrench?”

Twisting underneath the bike, she finally spotted it on the workbench across the shed.

Of course it’s all the way over there.

She sighed, laying back in the dirt in frustration.

Unless…

Lifting her head to look at the bench again, she stretched out her fingers and closed her eyes, reaching out through the Force. Her brow furrowed as the first tendrils of warmth flowed through her body, creeping along her extremities. It was a comforting presence, one that she had missed. Tears leapt to her eyes, and she chuckled quietly.

Hello old friend.

Senna was out of practice, but she eventually heard the sound of metal scraping across the workbench surface as the wrench slid towards her. She let out a triumphant huff, feeling the tool drawing near. It was about halfway across the shed, hovering in the air when the shed door slid open with a hiss. Senna’s eyes snapped open and the wrench clattered to the ground as Rex stood in the doorway.

“Oh…sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said sheepishly.

Senna blew out a frustrated sigh. “You didn’t. Just wanted to see if I still had anything left in the tank.” She turned her hand over, examining her fingertips.

Damn.

Rex walked across the shed, stooping down to slide the wrench over to her. “You seem out of practice.”

“Very observant,” she muttered, letting her head fall back into the dirt. “Like I said, I severed my connection to the Force. Being connected and being able to use it again will take time.”

“Didn’t seem to be an issue on Empire Day, and I had the bruises to prove it,” he teased.

She looked at him sternly from under the bike. “Strong emotions like that make it easier to channel the Force, but that was not the way I was taught to use it.” Senna studied her palm, running her thumb along one of the lines there as she remembered that night. Her face burned with shame. “I reacted out of anger and grief, and those emotions are not what I should be using when I reach out through the Force.” She furrowed her brow, the memory haunting her as she tightened the last bolts.

“What’s done is done,” Rex offered, clearly trying to absolve her. “The only thing to do now is move forward.”

“And never let it happen again,” Senna added, sliding out from under the bike. She lowered the lift and wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, smearing some grease across her cheek and forehead. “There. That should get you from Point A to Point B.”

“Much obliged,” Rex chuckled, turning to face her. A smirk spread across his face as he took in the black smudge smeared across her cheek. Taking a rag off the workbench, he closed the space between them, and suddenly he was close, closer than he’d been since Empire Day. Senna’s breath caught in her throat as Rex took her chin in one hand, wiping at the grease mark with the rag.

“I uh…might be smearing it more,” he said softly, a smile playing across his lips.

Senna felt her face burning under his touch, her eyes meeting his and holding for half a beat too long. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity and not long enough, his thumb gently grazing her jawline as her eyes drifted to his lips.

Maker, he’s handsome, she thought. She noted the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled, the small scar on his chin, the warmth of his fingers against her skin. She leaned back against the workbench, and she couldn’t be certain, but it felt like Rex pressed closer, his gaze flicking down to her mouth and back to her eyes.

Oh. Oh kriff.

The sound of someone laughing loudly in the street outside the shed door broke the spell, and they almost leapt apart, Rex clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck while Senna’s cheeks flushed with heat.

“Umm…the speeder bike shouldn’t be making that weird noise anymore. Wanna fire it up?” she asked, turning her back to him to hide the flush of her face. She was certain she was blushing from neck to hairline.

“Yeah um…sure,” Rex replied, walking to the bike and pressing the ignition switch. The speeder hummed to life, whirring gently. He stood back, glancing at her with a proud smile. “Wow. That’s the quietest it’s ever been.”

There was no tension in his shoulders, no worry or nerves in his expression when he looked at her. Senna blinked stupidly at him.

Did I just imagine all of that?

She cleared her throat, trying to recover. “Yeah, well it should run a little bit more efficiently as well.”

“Efficiency is always good.”

“Yep.” The awkward silence hung in the air for a few beats before Senna edged towards the door. “Alright, well I still have some…er…work to do upstairs. I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Yeah. G’night,” he replied as she slipped out the door.

Senna tried to keep her pace unrushed as she walked back across the yard, her heart thundering in her chest.

What the kriff were you thinking? He just started to come around to you, and here you are, making tooka eyes at him like a fool. You must have drank too much at dinner because you are absolutely out of your gourd, Aven.

She marched up the stairs as quickly as she could, shutting the door to the office behind her and leaning against the wall, trying to calm her pulse. Unconsciously, her fingers traced the place on her jaw where Rex had held her face. The skin was still on fire.

She groaned, clapping her hands over her face.

Absolutely not. You can’t do this. He’s a professional. He will absolutely pull you out of this if he thinks you’re compromised, especially if he’s the reason.

And the rebellion is where you belong. You can’t let yourself get sidetracked.

Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths.

You’ve just been alone too long.

She heard the sound of Rex coming in the back door and walking by the base of the stairs, where he paused. Her breath quickened again until she heard his footfalls move towards his room.

Letting loose one last weary sigh, Senna walked to her desk, scanning the various parts scattered everywhere. She was getting closer to completing the comm node, but still needed several key components. Might be time to make a run over to Triv’s.

Her eyes fell on the carved wooden box she had shoved to the corner of her desk, lingering for a moment. She felt the phantom weight and coolness of the box’s contents against her palm. Her fingers flexed.

Maybe someday.

Sitting down, Senna pulled over the board she’d been soldering components to before their meeting with Senator Organa. She worked for a few more hours, installing the components and doing continuity checks as she progressed. Finally, when her vision began to blur from exhaustion, she managed to drag herself to her room, barely managing to kick off her boots before she tumbled into bed and fell asleep.

—

Blue eyes found his in the dim lighting, lips parted slightly as she stood before him, blue lace cradling her every curve and leaving little to the imagination. Her brunette waves tangled around his fingers as his lips traced the curve of her jaw. He could feel her pulse jump beneath his touch as his teeth grazed her throat.

“Rex.”

Her voice was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard, and his heart stuttered in his chest. He pulled back, grazing his thumb along her lower lip, which dropped open in welcome, her tongue laving at the pad of the digit before her lips locked around it, suckling gently.

Rex groaned.

“On your knees, pretty girl,” he rasped.

Senna knelt before him, trailing her fingers down his bare chest as her eyes stayed locked with his. She rested her cheek against his thigh as one hand worked at the zipper of his trousers. Pulling his pants open, she nuzzled against the fabric of his briefs, her nose pressed against the outline of his throbbing cock.

“Take what you want, Senna,” he pleaded.

She grinned wickedly, her fingernails tracing the waistband before slipping underneath and pulling downward. His hard cock sprung free, and she reached for it, her fingers locking around it as her tongue traced along the vein that ran along the bottom. His breath stuttered as she took him into her mouth, sucking gently before she took him to the back of her throat, keeping her eyes locked on his. She hummed around his cock.

Maker, she’s beautiful like this. What did I do to deserve her?

It was all alarmingly familiar, as if they’d done this a million times and would a million more. She released his cock, stroking him gently as she nipped at the skin on his hip.

“I love you, Rex.”

“Senna, I-”

He came hard, his spend spilling across the lace of her lingerie and the tops of her breasts, glistening in the moonlight that shone in through the windows. He couldn’t even be bothered to be ashamed as she pulled his spent cock towards her lips.

“Let me clean you off, my love.”

Rex jolted awake, gasping and sweating as he sat bolt-upright, chest heaving. He glanced around the room wildly for a moment before realizing his briefs were uncomfortably wet. Glancing down, he groaned in frustration at the sight of the wet patch on the front of his underwear.

“Like a kriffin’ shiny,” he muttered, clambering out of bed and digging through his set of drawers for a clean pair to change into. Stumbling blearily into the small refresher attached to his room, he punched on the light and glared at himself in the mirror. His pulse was still racing.

Shit. That was Senna.

Unlike many of the dreams he’d had that faded when he awoke, he couldn’t seem to scrub the image from his mind of his companion on her knees, staring up at him expectantly with those blue eyes of hers. He shuddered as his cock twitched again between his legs. His mind returned to that moment earlier in the evening.

Had she wanted me to kiss her? Kriff, we were so close, and the way she was looking at me…

I wonder what her lips taste like.

He shook his head violently.

Absolutely not. Maker alive, has it been so long that you lose it the first time you’re in close proximity to an attractive woman?

Even his internal chiding didn’t stop the image of his cum on Senna’s chest from invading his mind once more. Before he could get his imagination under control, his mind betrayed him, drifting back to his dream. And for the first time in a long time, Rex let go.

Just tension release. That’s all it is. Just this once.

Rex closed his eyes, allowing his hand to slip under the waistband of his sullied briefs, and he began stroking his hardening cock, bracing his opposite hand against the wall. His shoulders relaxed as his mind wandered, returning to the last moments of his dream.

He ran his fingers through the warm spend that coated her chest before offering it to Senna, and she willingly sucked his fingers clean, moaning around them. Her eyes burned into his before she closed them in bliss, humming and releasing his fingers with a pop.

Rex grunted, sweat beginning to reappear on his brow as his fantasy ran unchecked.

Senna slipped the lace panties down her legs before laying back on the bed, her knees parting as she reached for him. Her folds were glistening as he slotted his hips between her legs. Her heels dug into his back, urging him forward.

“Rex. I need you.”

His grip around his length tightened. He panted loudly, his hips jerking more frantically as his muscles flexed and tensed. The fingers of his unoccupied hand clawed at the cool tiles of the wall.

She arched into his touch, her nails digging into the back of his neck as he thrust into her. He could smell her skin, all sweat and that hint of sandalwood and her. Just like in the shed, but now better. Closer.

His.

Her cunt clenched around him as she gently bit his earlobe. Her breath was warm against the shell of his ear as she whined quietly.

“Rex. Don’t stop.”

With a final groan, Rex coated his knuckles in a second release. Unable to stay upright, he doubled over as he finished himself off, groaning as quietly as he could.

Karking hells.

When his pulse finally slowed, he straightened, glaring at himself in the mirror as if he were reprimanding a subordinate.

Get it together.

Quickly, he stripped out of his soiled undergarments, cleaning himself off before changing into the clean pair and chucking the evidence of his shame into the clothes pile in the corner. He wiped the sweat from his brow, splashing some water on his face to ensure the last traces of the dream were fully chased from his mind. Shooting his reflection one last stern look, he slapped the light back off and returned to his bed.

You’ve got to work with this woman. Don’t let yourself get lost in a fantasy just because she’s the closest person around.

Despite his best efforts and adamant misgivings, he drifted off thinking of blue eyes and the smell of sandalwood.

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @obihiddlenox @meekaielmyerhs99 @kaminocasey @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @sleepingsun501 @ladykagewaki @arctrooper69

#karrde writes #in command #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #captain rex #OC Senna Aven #captain rex x ofc #captain rex x oc #captain rex x original female character #slow burn #friends to lovers #idiots in love #post order 66 #nsft #lemon #lemony lemon

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strikedenko · 7 months

Text

The Two Nikos

Chapter 3: Through The Glen

Summary: The pair embark through the Glen on their journey to the spire. The old savior then reunites with a dying soul they thought to have lost long ago…

(story under cut)

The rowbot slowed on their approach to the Glen mainland, reorienting the boat to make an easy exit for the two passengers. The back latch hooks onto the end of the dock and stops it in place.

"HERE IS YOUR STOP. THE GLEN."

"Thank you," The messiah spoke, with Niko sharing their appreciation soon after as they got off.

"THERE SHOULD BE A VILLAGE TO THE NORTH, BUT THAT'S ALL I CAN RECALL."

Ah, the village. Niko couldn't recall if they necessarily needed anything from there, though it still won't hurt to stop by and say hello.

"FAREWELL." The rowbot poised back up, preparing to disembark and return to the Barrens. "MAY YOUR QUEST BE A SUCCESS."

"A-are you leaving?" The messiah stammered, glancing back.

"I NEED TO GO BACK... FOR WHEN MY ENGINEER NEEDS ME." The latch disengaged, allowing the rowbot to start rowing back across the ocean. Niko set a hand on the concerned messiah's shoulder.

"They'll be okay, don't fret."

"But... what if we need to return?" The messiah worried.

"We won't. And if we do, we're not gonna need the rowbot."

The messiah watched as the rowbot turned into a speck in the distance, before reluctantly nodding. "Okay..." They turned away, gazing across the marshy landscape. The Glen was certainly more lively than the deteriorating Barrens, though it too was showing signs of decay.

"Woahh, there's two of you??" A nearby avian folk rushed over to the cat-people as they stepped foot off the wooden dock. "That's amazing! The world is going to be doubly saved, now!"

The messiah giggled, though all Niko could muster was a subtle grin.

"We'll try our best," Niko affirmed, though mostly to themselves, as they and their other self fully entered the mainland. The glenling ran off to go and catch more fireflies as the two planned their next move.

At some point, they were to meet with Calamus and Alula and receive the golden feather they required for the tower, though where they lived had fled Niko's head. They didn't think the two held residence in the village, though there weren't many other places that came to mind.

"Let's head to the village," the messiah spoke, which the guide agreed to. If anything, they could ask around; Someone's gotta know them. The two head north, across the long and narrow bridge to the village.

Niko didn't remember the dirt in the Glen feeling so... muddy. Perhaps it was due to the flooding, though that would've been the case before, right? Despite that, it was noticeable enough, and they weren't much of a fan.

The messiah approached one of the open houses and went inside, Niko following shortly after. Frankly, they were relieved that they weren't gonna need to walk in the mud for so long-

"Hello?"

The smell of roasting stew filled the air, a young glenfolk sat at a wooden table waiting to be served dinner.

...Or, perhaps brunch? It proved difficult to discern the time outside for obvious reasons.

"Oh, are you god?" The glenfolk exclaimed out of nowhere, being met with a stunned silence from both Nikos.

Eventually, the one bearing the sun gave an answer. "...No, we're just the messiahs they sent." It continued the lie that the guide had told Silver. "We can talk to them, though!" They spared a brief knowing glance at the other Niko.

"Wow!" The glenfolk gleamed in awe.

Niko took the opportunity to ask their question. "Would you perhaps know where Calamus and Alula are?" The glenfolk touched their wing to chin, thinking.

"I don't think so..." Niko huffed a silent sigh, but the glenling let out a brief gasp. "Oh, I've heard they visit Maize a lot!"

...Maize? That sparked a memory. "Oh! She's in the ruins, right?" Niko asked.

"I think so. Daddy says she's very sick, though..." Ah, right... "But she'll be okay soon! Someone's been making her miracle water!"

Oh, that's one of the things needed for her... seed...

Niko breathed a somber sigh, one that didn't go unnoticed.

"...Is something wrong?" The young avian asked. The guide just smiled.

"She'll be okay," Niko promised, setting their hands on the other's shoulders. "The world, too, will heal." They nodded, standing back up. "Might you know where the miracle water is?"

The glenfolk beamed, hastily getting out of their seat and rummaging through a jar, before pulling out a tube of sparkling water. "Daddy said we have to give it to the messiah, so they can make Maize feel better!"

Awe...

"Thank you!" The messiah accepted the miracle water, mirroring the warm smile. The two wave goodbye before heading back outdoors, back onto the muddy ground. "Are we gonna head to the ruins now?" The messiah inquired, drawing an affirming nod from their guide.

"It's where we meet Calamus, I believe."

With that, the two embarked down south, on the bridge to the forest when they began to hear the distant echoes of a certain glenfolk calling for his younger sister.

"Alula? Alula??"

Bingo.

"That's him, I think!" Niko exclaimed, leading the messiah further towards the voice. Indeed, it was Calamus, noticing the two fairly quickly.

The avian was hesitant to approach, the sight of two identical beings perplexing him, though approached nonetheless. His concern for Alula surpassed his curiosity.

"Hey! Have you seen a little girl?" Calamus started. "She's a little bit shorter than the two of you and-"

He then notices the sun in one of the cat-person's hands. "Wait... Are you our saviors?"

The messiah grew a subtle grin. "Yeah, we are!" Glancing over to their other self, who nodded to confirm.

"Please pardon my rudeness..." The avian swiftly apologized, bowing in the presence of the two, which only helped make the scene more awkward-

"It's just... My sister's been gone for three days now."

The memory of Alula being missing only just now reawakened in Niko's mind. "Oh no..." Needless to say, it wasn't a comfort. "Where was the last place you saw her?"

"Inside the ruins. She said she was headed towards the forest, so I'm waiting here now."

Why would Calamus not go looking in the ruins? Niko hadn't a clue, though it probably wasn't a great time to ask.

Either way, she was trapped in the ruins and the Nikos were going to have to save her. "We'll find her, don't worry," Niko assured Calamus, before the two proceeded over the bridge to the southern entrance of the ruins.

The messiah yawned.

"Tired?"

"A bit," They said. "We've been walking a lot, are you tired?" Niko just shook their head, before spying a bed just before the guarded entrance to the Refuge.

"Well, feel free to take a nap," they offered. "There's still plenty for us to do."

The messiah took them up on the offer, setting the sun against the foot of the bed and getting under the covers, yawning once more for good measure. "Goodnight, Niko," they said, dragging a brief giggle out of their guide.

The world, again, fell to darkness as the messiah drifted off to sleep, though Niko now knew what to do. They took out the Pocket Machine and powered it on, bathing their surroundings in natural light once more. Shortly after, the messiah's eyes steadily opened and they let out a yawn, stretching their arms back.

"Niko! I had another dream. Mama was there!"

Mama...

It's only been a mere few hours since they'd entered this world, though the guide couldn't help but worry. How long would it be before the messiah was allowed to return home, because Niko sure wasn't planning on leaving until then.

The warm grin on the messiah's face briefly shoved the gloom back to the depths of Niko's consciousness, pulling a mirroring smile up to the surface.

"That's nice."

"I think it was my birthday, because she gave me a big stack of pancakes!"

The thought of such instantly made Niko crave the batter-filled fluffy goodness. "Oh, yum.."

"Mhm! People always get their favorite food on their birthday."

Niko eagerly nodded. "I love pancakes! I ate seven of them on my last birthday."

"Oh yeah?" The messiah replied, taking that as a challenge. "I ate ten of them last year!" Niko, though, hadn't been trying to incite a contest, so they left it at that. "I was so full I didn't eat anything else that day."

They bonded further over the next few minutes, laughing and reminiscing about their shared, yet differing experiences. Though, the messiah later averted their gaze and frowned.

"I miss everyone..."

The sudden somber shift called for Niko's comfort. "You'll see them soon enough, I promise."

After a shaky sigh, the messiah lightened up and got out of bed. "Thank you, Niko. For looking after me."

The guide grew a smile. "C'mon, let's get back to saving the world." The messiah mirrored the smile, picking back up the sun and following Niko into the ruins.

Large pebbles and other debris littered the cracked stone floor, specks of dimmed green phosphor patterned the surrounding walls. A set of stairs before the two granted them access to the rest of the ruins.

...At least, the parts that weren't blocked off by a mass of vines. The messiah took particular interest, though Niko was able to keep them moving on and down another flight of steps.

A larger hall awaited them. Another set of stairs went down further into the ruins, though Niko scanned the rest of the room. They remembered a computer desktop being somewhere in here, placed to assist the operator with an oncoming puzzle.

It proved difficult to recall its exact location, however. All they could do was scour the ruins for the machine.

Surprisingly though, Niko was able to discover it on that very floor. An opening away from the beaten path led them to a room with another doorway right in front of them. In the next room sat a small table with the computer they were looking for.

The guide motioned for the messiah to try and use it, prompting the Entity's voice to return to Niko's mind as time froze once more.

['You're going to need a bit of assistance to help the messiah leave, again.']

Niko glanced up to the ceiling, as if the spirit of the world was watching over them like how Cameron had.

['I've changed a certain property of your device. This will help you rescue the girl.']

The... girl? It must be referring to Alula. Poor Alula, she's been stuck for three days...

['Please hurry up this nonsense. I'm tired of waiting.']

The world resumed as normal. Niko's first idea was to scour the Pocket Machine, taking out the device and searching through the various menus for something that's changed. No such luck, however...

"Uh... Niko, try that again," They spoke, calling for the messiah to interact with the machine again.

['Even for someone as dull as you, this shouldn't be difficult.']

"H-hey! That's not nice..."

['There's little reason to be nice anymore.']

Niko huffed.

['Just poke around a bit. It really isn't that hard to miss.']

The trouble was, they have been. Nothing in the device had changed, especially in a noticeable fashion. What did it mean by 'not hard to miss...'

Niko turned over the device and discovered their answer. Where a lightning bolt had previously sat was now a pixelated yellow icon of... something.

"Was this always here?" Their question pulled the messiah's attention away from the computer to inspect the new pattern.

"It kind of looks like the sun!" The messiah guessed, raising the lightbulb in their arms.

Niko glanced back at the icon, puzzled. "That's supposed to be the sun? It doesn't really look like it." They brought the device closer to their eyes, examining closely at the pattern of gold. A subtle glow exuded from the symbol.

. . .

All at once, it struck them. The room past the initial bundle of vines contains a light-up grid on the floor, the individual lights the exact size for this icon to be recreated inside its bounds. The realization had hit Niko like a truck, recoiling as the vivid memories roared back into their mind. Looking over the Pocket Machine once more, a smile crept up as they let out a chuckle.

"I remember now!" They glance over to a puzzled messiah. "We'll need this soon. C'mon!" Niko rushes out of the room with the messiah in tow, heading down further into the ruins until they reach a long and winding room stuffed with natural flora. The two, more slowly, proceeded to the end of the corridors.

"S...savior..."

...That pained voice.

"I can't believe it... You're real..."

Niko hoped, prayed, that Maize wouldn't be so close to death in this world, that something would be different. Not this time...

"Maize! Are you alright??" The guide barely hesitated to rush over to the plant lady's side. The messiah also shared their concern, though they couldn't exactly mirror Niko's.

"We should get you to the village! Maybe they could-"

"It's okay... It's too late for me..." Maize spoke. She was briefly interested in Niko, fallen to their knees beside her, though found her focus shifting back to the subtle warmth exuding from the other's arms. "I haven't felt the rays of the sun in such a long time... If it's not too much trouble... Can you lend me the sun for a while?"

"I..." The sun bearer hesitated, unsure of what they should do. Though, one glance at Niko's troubled gaze leaned them towards their answer. "I guess so. Will it make you feel better?"

"No. It will not save me," Maize returned a droning exhale. "But I want to feel its shine again before I go... Would it... would it be too selfish of me to ask?"

Another pause. The messiah glanced back at Niko to see them making eye contact with them, slowly nodding.

"It's the least we can do." They approached the plant spirit and carefully placed the sun into her embrace.

"It's so comforting... and warm." Maize held the sun in a close hug, resting a cheek on the glass. "I haven't felt like this in so long..." For the first time in years, she could relax.

"I'll loosen the vines for you," she spoke, allowing herself to retract the troublesome greenery.

Niko sighed, standing back up and walking back to the messiah's side, clenching their unseen hands into trembling fists. Eventually, though, they calm, taking out their device and handing it to the messiah.

"Here. I want to be with her this time," Niko spoke. The messiah was hesitant, though the guide took a moment to brief them on what they needed to do. Find Alula and reunite her with Calamus. The icon is needed to rescue her too, and Niko assures them that they'll know what to do when they see it.

With that information, the messiah gently accepted the Pocket Machine and waved bye to their guide. Niko found themself somewhat concerned, though recalling their own journey throughout the World Machine soothed the worries of the old savior.

Watching their other self walk off and turn the corner, Niko returned to Maize's side, sitting criss-cross applesauce. After some time embracing the sun's warmth, the plant spirit spoke.

"Thank you..." Her voice now held a slight air of melancholy. "No one's stayed by my side for years..."

Niko grew a soft grin. "It's the least I could do. There are two of us, after all," they cracked, giggling. It managed to get her to smile, at least.

"I wonder. The prophecy... only spoke of one messiah." Maize shuffled her body closer to Niko. "Though I could feel both of you, treading upon the garden... Similar auras, identical voices... You're one and the same, aren't you..."

The cat-person looked off towards nothing in particular, merely staring at the far wall, before taking a breath to speak. "You could say that." Then, glancing back at Maize. "We're separate, but also the same. Alternate versions, I think."

"From... parallel worlds?" The spirit found herself intrigued. "An old friend of mine... he read me some of his theories on the multiverse..." Another smile crept up her face, recalling fond memories.

Niko mirrored her expression, though their grin soon faded. "I traveled through another version of this place, and I want to make sure the messiah gets back home safe..."

"This is a familiar experience, then?" She inquired.

"Mhm," Niko responded. "It was rough, though..." Not only their part to play in their World Machine, but the scary situations they've since faced in the cyberspace they explored after. "And, finding out I was now..."

Why did they begin to blurt it out? God was far from describing their role in this, and they've wanted to maintain a low profile.

"...What were you now?" She questioned, concerned by their quieting voice.

Well, they suppose Maize could keep a secret. "...I was now this world's god."

A sharp gasp fled the plant spirit. Not only the savior, but god too? "You're... really..."

Niko nodded, following a brief pause. "Mhm..." Perhaps too quietly though, as Maize didn't seem to notice their confirmation. "I didn't... really like it, but I didn't want to leave a world in darkness..."

There was some hesitation before Maize spoke once more. "You hold a kind soul, then..." She cradled the warm sun close. "Haunted by the past, yet... willing to relive it to help save another world..." A subtle grin grew on her face. "But... Why stay with... me?"

Niko looked away, glancing down with a frown, droning an exhale. "I... met another version of you. She was barely hanging on..." Maize, too, shared a frown. "No matter what, when I returned to you for the sun, you always..." They paused, finding it difficult to finish the sentence, though the plant spirit understood.

"I suppose this is it, then..." She said. Ever since the sun went out, she always knew that one day would be her last. Despite her acceptance, Maize felt a fuzzy hand lay on her shoulder.

"Please, no..." Niko spoke, sighing with unease. "I don't want to lose you again..."

The plant spirit lifted a hand from the sun and set it atop Niko's. "It's nearly my time..." Turning her head to face Niko, she continued. "I've suffered for so long... the new sun can't save me... It's okay..."

Niko's concerned gaze met the spirit's two shut eyes. "Maize... Hang on for a little longer." They really couldn't bear to see her die one more time. "The sun in the tower will save you." They were too hopeful for their own good. The lightbulb in the plant spirit's lap began to dim, much to god's growing horror.

"No... no, no. Please, stay lit!" They palmed the sun, trying to do something, anything, to relight it. Maize felt it going out too, nearly passing out and collapsing onto her back, calling for Niko to briefly ignore the sun and tend to her.

"Please... Hang onto life, the sun will make you better..." They tried lifting her back up, though to no avail.

Maize remained conscious, however. Exhausted and closer to death than ever before, but still alive! "God... Niko..." Her pained voice stammered, raising a shaky arm to try and meet the other's hand, the old savior quickly allowing such and meeting palms. "The end has been prepared for..."

A small object Niko now felt in the palm she had grasped. As Maize's grip slipped away, a kernel of corn was revealed. "Rebirth was thought impossible... But I know now, just one more try, it shall come to fruition..."

Planting Maize in the Refuge garden... Niko remembered it now, though they were suddenly not so sure. "The sun, we'll return it. You'll get better!" They pleaded.

"Niko... I'm not... afraid... anymore..." Maize exhaled her final few words, forcing one more smile onto her face as her decaying body lost all form and withered away. Now, the only thing of her left was the kernel of corn entrusted to the god of this world.

Niko was upset. They held the kernel in an open palm, their other hand balling into a trembling fist.

This wasn't the first time they'd met Maize in her eleventh hour. It wasn't even the first time she'd died before them, sacrificing herself to keep the Glen stable the last time they'd met in these circumstances.

Niko was upset. Despite Maize's words of encouragement and the knowledge that their mission will nonetheless turn out a success, this truly felt like their lowest point. The sun went out, the land's guardian had passed away, and the messiah was left on their own.

Their eyes watered, a tear flowing down Niko's face before being followed by another, dripping down to splash onto the flora below. Somberly, they put the seed into their coat pocket, sat down before the quiet sun, and cried.

Niko was upset.

. . .

"...Niko?"

Their ears picked up a young voice, one from so long ago that they'd nearly forgotten. Niko looked over behind them to see a glenling with long blue hair and a childlike demeanor as the source.

"Alula..." A smile dawned on their face, relieved to know that she was safe. They stood up, wiping away a tear before wrapping around Alula in a hug. "I'm glad you're okay..."

"The sun..." Calamus spoke up, spying the unlit lightbulb. The messiah approached the bulb wearing a face of somber disbelief. Had they... failed?

Niko broke from the hug to look upon the lightless sun.

"I don't know, it just... went out," They said, anticipating the messiah's question. "Though, pick it up."

As the messiah went to reclaim it, the sun flashed back to life, as if the messiah themself were the light's power source. "Oh, phew..." The two birdfolk stood stunned, though Alula couldn't help but begin clapping following the few still seconds.

"Woah, nice magic trick!" She exclaimed, dragging giggles from the two Nikos and an awkward chuckle from Calamus. It was certainly a good way to raise the mood.

At least, until the elephant in the room was mentioned.

"Did Maize..."

Niko had tried to ignore her newfound absence, but it just... hurt. They simply returned a dejected frown, sniffling.

"Ah..." Calamus had figured as such, though the confirmation still stung like a wasp. "I'm sorry, Niko..." The older Glenfolk approaches where Maize had passed and squats, before taking out a trimmed pink feather and laying it down. A more somber Alula followed suit, setting down a light blue feather next to her brother's.

Calamus heaved a sigh. "You two still have work to do. We'll... take care of this. It's only right..."

"Thank you..." The messiah spoke, before the two Nikos waved goodbye and made their way out of the ruins.

The walk was silent. It was only after they were exposed to the open air that it was broken.

"What's... going to happen?" The messiah asked. Niko just looked away.

"I... don't know," they murmured, loud enough for their other self to hear.

"You... really..."

"I'm not god, Niko!" They snapped. "I never was, that's just the fancy title I was given!" They huffed, annoyed, before taking a few deep breaths "I-I'm sorry..." Niko, ashamed, proceeded further on.

"...Hey," The messiah shouted to grab Niko's attention. "This is where we need to go, right?" They stood near the wide robot overseeing the entrance into the refuge.

"Yes, but..." Niko mentally recounted their search for a pen. "The gatekeeper lost their pen, and we need to sign something to go through."

In response, the messiah took out the gilded feather Niko had once received from the two Glenfolk and... the vial of dye? "Calamus helped me after we spoke to the guard. We had to herd rams and talk to a trader that he knew."

Well, at least they had some assistance. "Oh, that's great!" They exclaimed, their smile regrowing as they approached the gatekeeper and the messiah dipped the tip of the feather into the ink.

"We have a pen," The messiah spoke. The robot offered the scroll, allowing both Nikos to write down their names. There were a lot of faded names before them, most unintelligible. One could only wonder...

"Good luck," the gatekeeper said, pulling back the scroll.

Niko nodded with a slight grin, with the messiah audibly thanking the robot. "Thank you."

With everything in the Glen taken care of, the two entered the gate into the refuge.

#ao3 #oneshot game #story #denko.arts

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dumbestthingiveeverheard · 9 months

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Dumbest Thing I've Ever Heard: 7/25/2023

Fifth Place: The Babylon Bee

Today, the right-wing satire website ran the article "Scientists Unveil Periodic Table Of Genders." Even ignoring the fact that this is the millionth or so time they've run a joke similar to this--you do realize what this implies, right? That the side in favor of transgender rights and who affirms non-binary identities have science on their side while you guys don't. In fact, this is even quite similar to a pro-transgender rights meme I saw posted a few years back.

Fourth Place: Matt Gaetz

The Hill reports today "Gaetz introduces legislation to end ‘unqualified’ birthright citizenship." Of course, given birthright citizenship has been upheld by the Supreme Court, repealing it would require a Constitutional Amendment, not just an act of Congress--something Matt would know if he took even the basic class on how our government works.

It should also be noted that Matt is trying to use this bill “to reflect the original intent of the 14th Amendment’s ‘subject to the jurisdiction thereof’ clause,” which refers to a part which quite literally reads that citizenship applies to everyone “born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof.” If the original intent of that language was not that everybody born in the United States is automatically a citizen, which was the understanding held by the Senate when the Amendment was passed (as seen by a Senate Judiciary Report regarding the Amendment) and by then-President Andrew Johnson, then somebody should really have told those who wrote it to use different words.

This is a small aside, but one thing you'll notice if you listen to the rhetoric the right pushes on the Constitution is that they always seem to think the people who wrote it put some Asterix next to each part that implies something they wish it didn't which the rest of us are just too blind to see but totally shows the amendment is counter to everything they don't like. Although I am not going to sit here and pretend like the left can be guilty of the same thing--especially regarding the Second Amendment--it is not only worth pointing out that the right does it far more, but also that the right does it exclusively to take away the rights and freedoms of American citizens--or, in the case of Matt right here, to take away the status of citizen from millions of people.

Third Place: Hillary Clinton

Regarding the recent heat wave sweeping the country, the former Secretary of State wrote on Twitter:

Hot enough for you? Thank a MAGA Republican. Or better yet, vote them out of office.

First off, why the MAGA Republicans specifically? Don't Reagan and Bush Republicans also have a great deal of responsibility? How about Gingrich Republicans--you know, the ones who literally did everything possible to stop the environmental progress your husband's second in command tried to make!

Let's not forget that this is the same woman who dropped references to Climate Change from her speeches during her 2016 Presidential Campaign after Bernie Sanders endorsed her, who refused to endorse a carbon tax, and who encouraged other countries to embrace fracking as Secretary of State.

Second Place: Greg Gutfeld

It's not everyday the Auschwitz Museum feels the need to condemn something said on cable news, but Gutfeld's provided just such an occasion. Specifically, the organization criticized the Fox News host's use of Viktor Frankl's book Man's Search For Meaning while defending Florida's educational standards which say that slaves learned useful skills during their enslavement, in response to the Jewish Jessica Tarlov bringing up a hypothetical similar situation related to the holocaust. His statement was the following:

Did you ever read Man’s Search for Meaning? Vik Frankel talks about how you had to survive in a concentration camp by having skills. You had to be useful. Utility, utility kept you alive!

Can we just talk about the implication that the Jews who died in the Holocaust did so because of lack of skill? What the fuck, Greg?

Winner: Ron DeSantis

I am honestly starting to believe that the DeSantis campaign is run by people who really don't want DeSantis to be President. Remember that ad late last month which called Donald Trump to much of an LGBT ally that was put out by a pro-DeSantis Twitter account? It turns out the DeSantis campaign made that ad internally and then gave it to this account in hopes of passing it off as something done by a crazed supporter. Said ad was mocked all across the internet both for the idiotic claim that Trump was some stern fighter for the rights of LGBT people and also because DeSantis was trying to run to the right on an issue that many Americans no longer agree with the right on.

At this point, all one really has to do if they one to debunk the idea of a DeSantis nomination is point out how badly Mike Huckabee, Rick Santorum, and Ted Cruz all did when they ran on platforms rather similar to DeSantis back in 2008, 2012, and 2016 respectively. The fact is that every Republican Presidential Primary for the past decade or so has featured one candidate who is the preferred President of the nutjobs and, although they do a good job being second place, they never progress past that. The average American--fuck, the average Republican--does not want what these people sell, and the reason is because they understand that hating other people isn't going to improve their lives, while hate is the only thing these people offer.

Ron DeSantis, you've done the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

#the babylon bee #matt gaetz #hillary clinton #greg gutfeld #ron desantis

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gascon-en-exil · 10 months

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In your opionion is there things that Engage did better than 3 Houses or things they did worse than 3 Houses ? if that is the case, which one and why ?

Those are two different questions, and ones that people have been bandying about online for months now. I thought for about five minutes about turning this into a video prompt, but there's already plenty exactly like this on YouTube - plus I'm currently working on way too much as it is.

What FE16 does better than FE17:

In general, character work - I say in general because there are characters I like in Engage and characters I very much don't in Houses, but the more substantive supports and other side interactions in the latter help the cast stand out more. They're also broken up more, so it's easier to focus on the groups you enjoy.

Non-Avatar queerness - So much lovely subtext, so many paired endings. I've done multiple videos centering around them, even. I said in a video a few months back that I dislike how so many of Engage's non-Avatar supports end with bland affirmations of friendship, which in combination with the lack of endings really kills the potential of pairings like Fogado/Bunet and Timerra/Merrin. Dimidue though? When their A support pivots around the word "friend" you just know that it's a euphemism, and that they'll be calling each other that mid-coitus that evening. Throw in around a dozen other pairings who've gotten big based on subtext and you've got a bunch to choose from.

Cozy life sim elements - The Somniel may be more streamlined and its loading screens slightly less agonizing, but the monastery better nails the feel of a persistent hub area - even if its coziness kind of undercuts the tone of the game's second half. This isn't something I'm really into, but I know a lot of fans get into stuff like gardening and fishing and tea time, and the calendar system and (weird) time progression does make Houses feel more like a life sim in contrast to the Somniel and its randomized character loadouts. Also, Engage has way more to grind for if you want to see everything, which is annoying. This is in contrast to...

100% Completion - It may be something only I care about, but Houses goes above and beyond any other mainline FE if you're a completionist. Of course there's the support logs and event gallery and such (features Engage doesn't even manage correctly), but there's also the in-game journal which provides a ludicrous but still doable 100% target in the form of watching a whole bunch of bars fill up very slowly over dozens of playthroughs. This requires so many spreadsheets to keep organized - love it!

What FE17 does better than FE16:

Story originality - Yes, really. Houses's story is three variations on the series standard plot, plus one other option - side with the conqueror -that Fates came up with first. Engage is the least politically-interested game in the series, and it barely even teases at a mundane war between nation before it's back to fighting zombies and collecting rings. Original doesn't necessarily mean good, but at least Engage knows exactly what kind of story it's trying to tell and what it can feasibly expect to do.

Tangible, linear worldbuilding - Engage isn't as ambitious, but it's more successful thanks to more traditional FE worldbuilding tools like talking to NPCs around the world as opposed to gathering them all in hub. The single story also helps keeps everything orderly and easy to understand, rather than going for an unreliable narrator + mystery box approach across multiple routes and half-assing the execution.

The Avatar - No contest here. Alear is an actual character with an identifiable arc, and while it's not the most compelling thing in the world it's leagues ahead of anything Byleth can claim. Byleth is a blank vessel for the player (and also Sothis for a while, lending them some facsimile of a character in the form of her reactions) with a ludicrously contrived backstory to justify why they are the way they are; Alear has fears and development and a backstory that's coherent even if it relies on a fair amount of cliché. Also, even in localization Alear as a god complex fantasy is undeniable, whereas Houses bends over backwards to act like a main source of its appeal isn't teacher-student sex. Speaking of -

Avatar queerness - Again, no contest - not that I especially care. Byleth's same-sex S rank options are limited, while Alear can give their not!engagement ring to every character regardless of gender, a huge step up in open-ended self-insert romance that gets mostly overlooked because they can also give the ring to preteens.

Understanding of FE's camp appeal - The above only underlines how much better Engage can be when it comes to the campy and the tasteless. From the ridiculous outfits to the Emblem stuff being compared to Saturday morning cartoons or Power Rangers or such to Zephia/Zelestia to the AU dragon incest wank nonsense, Engage wears its silliness on its sleeve. Houses doesn't totally lack that element, with stuff like the Proper Conduct Tournament and Manuela's...everything, basically, but like the teacher-student fetish it's hidden beneath this veneer of respectability that begins to grate after a while. Most of that is probably just overcorrection for the poor response to that sort of content in Fates, but it obviously didn't stick...not even for Fódlan content in Heroes. Look at the new duo Cathmir, and tell me these characters still aren't being sold on sex appeal aimed primarily at straight men.

Handling of characters of color - Not something I discuss often, but it has to be said. Solm is as developed of any of the other main four nations of Elyos, with just about as much of a role in the story and a presence in gameplay (i.e. you spend around half a dozen chapters there). There are still some oddities, like how the royals and NPCs are all dark-skinned but the retainer characters aren't, but compared to the various periphery nations of Fódlan it's a real standout and actually feels like a part of the world. Sreng is a plot device in Hopes, and even less than that in Houses. Duscur, Brigid, and Dagda basically only exist in relation to Dedue, Petra, and Shamir respectively. Even Almyra, from which we get two playable characters including one of the lords, barely appears at all, and most of Claude's Almyran heritage is left out of his writing because he spends the whole game disguising his identity.

Standard gameplay - I play on Normal and freely abuse time rewinding so my opinion here isn't going to be held in any regard, but go check out anywhere Engage is being discussed online and you'll see tons of tier lists and comparisons of builds and chapters and Emblems and whatever else. You know, the things that people ordinarily talk about when it comes to FE, and not -

Less enabling of toxic fandom elements - The inbuilt faction drama in a faux-serious war story, the continued growth of the anti phenomenon first seen when Fates was current, and a years-long global pandemic fostered endless division and conflict that persists to this day. It somehow even continues a year after the release of Hopes, now in the form of bashing Engage because it didn't sell as much (while still talking about its gameplay way more than I could ever bother, go figure) and IS is being more conservative with its Heroes appearances. There's still pointless nonsense to argue about here - like the aforementioned incest wank - but there's far less of it in a linear story that doesn't encourage players to latch as hard onto their favorites.

Non-100% replay value - Related to the gameplay, if you're not going for all the supports/bonds/achievements there's much more variety you can pull out of repeat playthroughs of Engage via the standard ways to mix up your runs in FE: using different characters, allocating resources differently, limiting yourself in certain ways etc. Houses's gameplay is so freeform and has such clear best options that for replays you're relying on the story...and there's exactly four stories. Worse, White Clouds is almost the same regardless of house, and there's a bunch of crossover content among the Part II routes as well, even Crimson Flower, which leads to it all feeling quite repetitive even if the narratives technically go to different places.

Nostalgic throwbacks - Not only the Emblems, but also the many legacy paralogues. These were a fun element of Awakening and Fates's DLC, and it's nice to see them brought back here with a bunch of callbacks for fans of those older games. Houses has...its batch of DLC classes all coming from Awakening, and the Archanean regalia appearing as random drops. Oh, and probably the least notable playable version of Anna ever.

Absurdly cute mascot factor - Could have talked about this under the camp factor, but some players get really into how adorable Sommie is. It's a fount of memes and goofy videos if nothing else. Is IS taking notes from Pokémon?

And yet I still prefer FE16 overall, because it better caters to my specific interests (gay stuff that doesn't involve Avatars, spreadsheets). The years of fandom toxicity are unfortunate, but I've grown accustomed to laughing at it when it amuses me and ignoring it when it doesn't.

#Fire Emblem #FE16 #FE17 #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Fire Emblem Engage

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