I'm not alone, I'll never be. Into the bone, I'll never grieve.
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"Oh." Well... the ship was on its course, all steady, Chekov chattering excitedly with ensign Andree. Everyone seemed to be doing alright. He guessed he could spare a moment to talk with the guy, no matter how strangely reluctant he found himself to leave his spot.
"Well, okay," Jesús shrugged, throwing a small smile at him. With a short nod at the captain, he stood, straightening his shirt, then his sleeves. "I hope I can be of any help, sir."
"I have to interview everyone on the Enterprise, so I am afraid I can’t help pulling you out of your shift, sir/ma’am."
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What the hell was Strat doing-- Jesús wasn't high enough for that. He could've probably endured it had Gretchen been gone but she was there, right next to them. Listening to it. The pilot frowned, although it came out looking more like a disgruntled pout. "Not to mention you completely bastardized the poem, that's-- that's not how it went... You're not made for poetry, my friend. Shut up."
With that, he snatched the pipe from his hand, all his concentration suddenly shifting on the small object. Until he looked up again, that is.

"Class. Right! Whatever," he turned to Gretchen before he took a hit, his brow furrowing as thoughts rushed to his head, all of a sudden. "Come on. Don't tell me you wouldn't feel the same if you and... you know what? I don't remember the name. You should refresh our memories."
"Yeah, I guess I do." She shakes her head, squinting at the pipe for a second. "It’s pretty much just ash, but yeah, knock yourself out." She slides it across the table, carefully, the green lighter to follow.
"Strat, what’s he like? Normal? Hot?" Somehow it was fun to tease him even with that sad look on his face. In a way, she was jealous of it. And a little annoyed, because she wasn’t quite sure they’d tolerate her crying if she’d experienced the same luck.
"All I know is he’s some kind of doctor and Zeus is on his dick now, so it doesn’t sound that bad at all. I mean, I’m gonna assume you’re on his dick now. Is he, Strat?"
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The hand on his shoulder weighs less than anything he's ever felt in his life. Jesús is certain he mutters his thanks, but he can't be sure, as he grabs the uniform and buries his face on it. It's definitely Strat's. He can smell him. He feels a little safer.
"Jude," he sighs, although it's muffled and comes out as 'food'. Or 'chewed'. "Yeah. He's perfect in like, every way. Strat knows about him," he looks up, blinking. "I think. Anyway yeah, you should see him. You'd understand."
And he smiles, although it's a bit dazed, but bright nevertheless. "It's like. Touching the stars. Like the ones outside here, I swear man, you gotta believe me. Thanks for the tissue by the way. Hey Gretch, pass me that, will you?"

"…No, not really."

She snatches the pipe from the table, lights it, and takes a long hit. Still nothing. “Seriously—get him a tissue or something, Strat, he’s freaking out. Do you know what he’s talking about?”
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"Acting weird? What do you mean? I've been acting like myself all day. I have nothing to hide, I don't want to be anyone else but me for the rest of my life."
He really needed a tissue though. "I am happy, guys, I swear! Nothing to be worried about. It's just-- the stars. I've touched them."

"You know?"
"Yanno… you been actin’ weird at the helm all day. Are you sick?"
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"No."
"Maybe. No. Definitely not. I have no reasons to cry. I am not sad. Are you?"

“…Are you crying?”
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SANTIAGO CABRERA APPRECIATION WEEK. Day 5: Favorite thing about Santiago ↳ His face everything
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happy birthday!
Aw, thank you very much!

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i present 2 u, the cutest pic of aaron paul to ever.
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la luna - judus skype chat
Anxiety about it brewed in his stomach, but it felt normal. Most of all, he wondered when the last time he'd felt normal was.
Walking beside him, Jude cast a glance, rather unsubtly looking at his profile, admiring the angles of his face, trying to identify his expression. /What are you thinking? Who the hell are we?/
But the better questions thankfully came to mind in time. "So where are you taking me?"
[17/12/2014 00:49:00] Bags: It was tearing him apart, slowly, so perhaps that was for the best. Jesús prayed for a steadfast resolution; although sometimes (mostly, so many sleepless nights and restless days) he wished he could just /know/, but he knew better than that. And God, he wished the heavy sensation in his chest that came with it would just disappear.
So no matter how slowly it happened, it was still there. Even if, like then, the sound of Jude's voice so close to him was enough reassurance and enough to make him forget about it for a moment or two.
(Then it crashed down on him again, a wave like no other that shook and reduced him to what felt like nothing. A circle he could not escape. Not that he wanted to, either).
"I thought you'd said you'd be patient, man? You're just gonna make me tell you everything before we even get there and where's the fun in that?" He turned to look down at him, the corners of his lips already betraying the beginning of a smile, one he had reserved just for him.
"Fine. The rec room-- the one with the cool holotechnology, you know? I thought it would be fun." His face was heating up, just by looking at the sharp planes of his face, the glimpse of his /eyes/-- "Unless you had something else in mind. Which can totally be done! I won't mind."
[17/12/2014 11:58:32] monty pinkman: Jude couldn't help but laugh about the tone he took, nudging his side a little to distract the both of them. That smile, he swore. Sometimes he'd catch a look on his face that made him want to melt. So he sucked in a breath, and kept calm as he walked beside him. "You didn't /have/ to tell me, if you wanted it to be a surprise."
Then he shook his head, sticking one hand in his pocket, the other swinging idly by his side. "No, it sounds great. Never been." Although, now that he thought of it, there were hundreds of places he wanted to program in, just to revisit. Revisiting Copernicus, or at least some place with solid ground, would definitely calm him.
He'd grown more relaxed just thinking about that, following him eagerly. He noticed the look on his face, his newly reddened cheeks, and kept it in mind. The kind of image he wanted to treasure, in a strange way. He raised his hand, hesitating a bit before he set it in the crook of Jesús' arm. Why the hell not. "Have you been before? I don't really know what it can do. Or what I'd even want to do first."
[17/12/2014 16:58:15] Bags: An almost instinctive urge to cover his hand with his own took over for what felt like minutes, something that lingered even as he pulled his arm closer and with it Jude, of course. And when he did, he bumped him playfully, gently. His face couldn't have been any warmer, he was certain.
"Not really. I tried a few weeks ago, thought it would be fun to take Coyota for a walk. But it was already taken." Going somewhere close to home would have been nice, he'd guessed. Or somewhere new. The possibilities were many; there would be time to enjoy it later. Such as now.
"I'll let you decide. Just promise me nothing too cold. Not a big fan of that," he laughed softly.
[17/12/2014 19:45:57] monty pinkman: The next corner they turned, he saw the room--it was vacant, thankfully, and he was surprised how excited he was by the time he opened the door. It was hard to let go of his arm, but he still stood close. "I like the cold. The good kind, at least. Depends."
Finding the screen, he scrolled through the list of setups and algorithms, growing a little overwhelmed until he saw a familiar name on the list. "Okay. I have one."
He watched as the floor turned to grey, smooth dust, the hint of a chill in the air. And then miles upon miles of stars, the face of the earth rising to meet them.
"This probably seems weird. But--we get a sunrise once a month at home. So I always went out to see it myself."
[17/12/2014 20:11:06] Bags: He remembered the first time he had seen Earth from the window of a ship that slowly drifted further away. He had thought he had never seen anything with such striking beauty. But then he caught a glimpse of Jude, and understood where they were as soon as the walls rippled around them.
Jesús took a step forwards, blinking as he drank in the sight in front of him, mesmerized. "
"Nah," he found himself saying, turning to Jude. "Not weird. I like it. A bit cold," he added with a faux shiver, "but I'll live."
And part of him could not exactly name the sensation deep in him; he was in his home. He was sharing a part of him that Jesús hadn't really imagined he'd ever see. For that, he could not be any more grateful.
"Well, lead the way, /chico luna/."
[17/12/2014 22:50:07] monty pinkman: "Really? It doesn't feel cold." The first step he took was shaky, getting used to what must have been a year of different atmosphere, but then he felt calm, feather-light. He tried to remind himself the simulation could only go too far, before the ground just became the floor and the both of them would be back. But /God/, it was home, if only briefly. "For me, at least."
He turned, pointing back vaguely behind him. "My town is over there. You take the shuttle from there pretty early in the morning. Usually there are a lot of, like, nuns and missionaries crammed in. I used to go with my dad and my sisters, but then they started to sleep in, so I went by myself. Sometimes I slept on the bus, and they'd always yell at me when I did. Then we moved houses, and the people on /that/ shuttle were these hippies, I guess--they were in a commune. And I couldn't sleep then 'cause they played their music too loud. And, um..."
He realized he was talking to fill a perfectly good silence, so he fell beside him instead, for once not looking straight ahead, but up, the way he always did when he was there. Craters that you could see for miles. Stars he wished he had memorized. Finally, he came to a standstill, mesmerized. It would have felt like he was really there if not for the strange pain in his chest, and the presence next to him--/right./ He laughed nervously, glancing towards him. "It's nice, right?" [17/12/2014 23:14:00] Bags: Oh. The more he listened, the more immersed he became in the melody that was his voice and the story that it wove: soothing to the pilot who remained still as he grew used to the way his feet were grounded. When it faded to nothing though, he didn't mind. If anything, the lack of words was enough for him to feel like he had nothing to worry about.
The stars calmly glimmered above them. Somehow, so very different from the ones just outside the room (God no, it was imposible to think of it as only a room at the moment, only a facade). Maybe brighter, from the way they reflected light in Jude's eyes.
"Yeah," he breathed, finding himself in a struggle between staring up, or staring beside him. "It's-- it's beautiful. I... y'know, thank you. For bringing me here. I mean it." 'Pleasantly surprised' was a terrible understatement. He shook the embarrassment that came with that thought away, shook his head and instead grinned up at the bright darkness above their heads.
(Then the silence became /more/, and it lingered, but he failed to notice it right away).
[17/12/2014 23:31:51] monty pinkman: "Thank /you./" He grinned, both at the look on his face and his reaction. The tone of his voice seemed different, more surprised, and the silence they fell into held more weight than he expected. "For...showing me the way, I guess."
He was out of words, although he had more stories about nuns and communes and how the Earth looked on certain mornings. As much as he wanted to waste the time away watching it, remembering all he could, he was afraid he'd start missing home too much. And it felt different, even though he wouldn't have admitted it. Lonelier, even with someone next to him.
Jude waited a while longer, lingering on that perfect silence, before he shuffled closer to him and wrapped his arm around his waist. Much better.
[17/12/2014 23:47:49] Bags: It caught Jesús by surprise, to say the least. He could have sworn he felt his heart jump to his throat, at the same time it felt like it had stopped altogether. And, Christ, he was so silly for that.
Even so, he bit his lip, half of his face burning as he (/finally/) moved closer, tentatively raising his arm and carefully draped it over his back. Maybe he was too scared to touch him, for fear he would whisk along with everything that surrounded them. But he knew better-- it wouldn't happen. Nothing bad would happen there.
And his body fought back a tremulous instant as he turned his head, his eyes still fixed on the stuttering light of a star, and his chin brushed against Jude's temple. "Anytime. It's what I'm here for."
[00:15:24] monty pinkman: This was right, he told himself. This was fine, and he couldn't have felt more at home--but he still wanted more. Unintentionally, his hand gripped in his shirt, and he turned towards him, looking up, hazy-eyed, expecting /something/. But he didn't know what. Not even when he put his hand on his cheek. He felt too vulnerable. He swore he was falling apart just looking at him.
Stupid, outright /pining/--he knew then couldn't come back to McCoy without thinking of the wrong person while kissing him, wishing he'd somehow go from big hands and clumsiness to the pilot's clever fingers and the way he put him at ease without doing /anything./
Fuck.
"Hey." He drew in a short breath, not frowning, but not quite smiling either. "I want to kiss you. I just--I need you to know I slept with someone. Have /been/ sleeping with someone. But I want to break it off, and--I'm sorry. I just needed to tell you." He winced. "Nothing has to change." [00:35:30] Bags: Jesús blinked, the stars dimming down.
They couldn't have been closer in that moment and yet /yes they could/, but somehow, suddenly he was trapped by an unwanted sensation of familiarity, of enclosing that was overwhelming-- but not as much as the hand on his cheek, or the pure gift that had been his look only seconds before.
He shouldn't have allowed it to daze him as much as it did, his lips parting as he sought for anything to say, it's okay, he had told him now, it was alright; only confusion in his eyes. It did, though. And his surprise, well. He wanted to kiss him, too. More than anything he'd ever wanted in his life, or so it seemed like that. "Yeah. Yeah, that's--" /nothing had to change/.
It would, though. All he needed to do was to lean closer, and let him /know/. Despite everything, here they were. God.
[00:47:29] monty pinkman: His hand left his cheek to rest on his shoulder--then he had both hands, actually, gripping him. He couldn't piece together the look on his face, either disappointment or shock or /something/--he felt guilty, really, even though he still didn't know what he was thinking.
His mind had wandered in that short moment. Just to him. Him instead of Leonard, kissing him, touching. /Quit it./ But he was too focused on the idea of him, imagining his body close against his, connecting at every point they could. It would be different. It was exactly what he needed, but he /had/ to stop thinking about it. Not with everything still up in the air.
"I mean it." A wince spread across his face, but he was still firm when he said it. "I want to be with /you/, Jesús."
[01:12:45] Bags: It was exactly what he needed to hear. It was /everything/: the reassurance he had prayed for ever since he'd realized what his heart desired, no matter how much he'd tried to convince himself of the impossibility, or the foolishness. For so much, all of a sudden everything shifted, and there he was.
There was nothing to say, simple as that. Nothing to do, without problems, pride, doubt, anything. Jude standing in front of him, the brightness he'd set himself to follow. And all he could do was raise his hands to cup his cheeks between calloused palms, lean down just enough, and then his lips pressed against his'.
He kissed him under the infinite starry night, as he burst at the seams and overpowering warmth bloomed with each second that bound them in that moment. With him. Just him... he only needed /him/.
[08:24:08] monty pinkman: At first he was surprised at how warm he felt. Different from the cool air he was used to, in contrast to the surface of the ground--the warmth obscured everything, and suddenly his feet felt firm on the ground. It was the rest of him that was floating.
The thing was, he didn't want to stop, to pull back from the kiss to laugh it off, or say anything that was worth saying. He rested his hands on his sides, tilting his head as he moved closer to him.
He gripped his shirt a little, still not tired of kissing him. He was drawn to him like a magnet, everything else shifting out of his vision. His lips felt absolutely perfect.
[12:36:03] Bags: That he hadn't pulled away could only set him at ease, more than he already was with his hands on his sides, just /touching/. Keeping him grounded, if he was honest, although there was no other place he could possibly go to.
Even so, as soon as he paused to recover the breath that had been snatched from him, he made sure their noses touched, that they were as close as they could be. From there, Jude looked, and felt, more wonderful than anything he could have ever imagined. Than any line of poetry he had ever written and read.
He couldn't help but smile. A soft, tiny turn of his lips, enough for Jude to catch. "I want to be with you too, Jude."
[15:25:05] monty pinkman: Then it was settled, he thought. He pecked his lips delicately, before pulling further back and looking at his face, his smile. "Then I think we can be."
His face was still burning, and now he could identify the burning in his chest. He glanced away, at the rocks and gravel, at once noticing the differences, the hologram fading a little. "I...think I wanna go now.
"Don't wanna get homesick," he explained, with a nervous laugh. "Do you...want to go somewhere else?"
[17:40:32] Bags: Jesús gave a last look at the surface where they stood and that of the planet that lingered beneath, at space. "Yeah. I think that would be nice."
So his hands slid down to his neck, to his arms, until they fell to his side. His fingers gently wrapped his wrist, before he linked their fingers, his touch tender as ever. Adoring, even.
It didn't matter where they could go now, all he could've asked for stood in front of him anyway. "Come on." And he pulled him along; soon, the hologram flickered off behind them just as the sun lit up a side of Earth.
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"Big guns... I'm not sure I'll manage, but I can try, thanks. And yeah," he nodded, "there's a cat around. Little orange ball of disaster."
"Oh, right," he snapped his fingers together, tapping at his head before throwing her an apologetic, small smile. "Not much, really. Adjutant Porter hangs around the bridge a lot, so we talk, and she said she liked you."
"Well, when your job is to test weapons, it loses it’s excitement. Unless you get a new weapon, then it’s like Christmas morning." She loved getting to play around with all the new weapons that Starfleet sent. It wasn’t often, but when it did happen she couldn’t help but strip it to pieces and learn all the ins and outs. "You should, it’s a good stress reliever. I’ll make sure to pull out one of the big ones for you," she adds, nudging his shoulder playfully.
"There’s a cat on board?" A soft laugh escapes her, "At least they get along." Aria couldn’t imagine not having anything to do to keep her preoccupied. She couldn’t sit around for long without getting antsy. She hoped if she was in the same situation as Jesus she would be able to handle like he says.
"So, do I at least get a hint as to what this secret is?"
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"Playing around with weapons doesn't sound like 'nothing too exciting'. I'd say quite the opposite," although he wasn't that good at it-- he prefered a closer approach, when it came to fighting. And if possible, no fighting at all. "I should go visit you some day."
"Ah yes," he smiled. "Hyper as ever, especially now that we've found out there's a cat aboard. She likes playing with him. And, uh, there's not much for me in the bridge now, but I handle."
"I knew you were a rebel," she teases, walking beside him. A short laugh escapes her as she remembers the sweet pup tugging on her owner’s pant leg incessantly so she could go do her lady business. "I’ve been keeping myself busy, hanging out at the firing range and playing around with the weapons, nothing too exciting. My life is rather boring, except for the occasional need for adventure, of course."
"How about yourself? Is Coyota keeping you busy?"
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"Scavenging, stealing," he chirps, a faux look of disbelief crossing his face before it vanishes, leaving instead a toothy grin that has 'let's do it' written all over it.
"I'm in. Do tell what you've done meanwhile. Last we spoke Coyota sort of, interrupted."
"Well obviously. I wouldn’t agree otherwise, my liquor always has to be top notch," she smiles widely. An easiness falls over her with his reassurance. "What do you say to being a little rebellious and snatching a bottle from the bar and then scavenging the mess hall?"
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"Of course. But it must be good tequila and good nachos, otherwise it's not even worth it," he winked (it hadn't exactly been an oath, promise, whatever. He'd just forgotten, actually).
"Don't worry. Nothing bad, I promise."
"A blood oath, huh?" Aria manages a wide smile, masking her worry. What would anybody on this ship have to say about her? She sticks to herself and never tells anyone anything about herself. Aria quirks a brow, "Tequila and nachos and that’s all it’s going to take to break that promise?" She thought carefully for a moment before nodding her head.
"I’m down
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"I took a blood oath that I wouldn't tell you what they said about you, but if you bring me some tequila and nachos, I might be inclined to break that oath."
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