#| v:: tbn

[toprayarc]

as water sinks through the back of an oversized t-shirt, spattered onto the bright and bold 'bite me' scrawled across the center, steam rolls out and away from the previously housed bathroom. swirls fresh scents against the rest of the apartment. at a moment's notice, mari comes sweeping out from the shower: grapefruit clung to the twists and turns of her hair, citrus squeezing out of the sides of her mouth. she's nothing but casual air, an allowance to her home, and a trust thickened with a now aforementioned absence.

"did you change your signature scent recently?" — @deadpoolurl.

wade's words spring upwards, wry. a commentary that brings a twitch of a lip, a pluck-up of a cigarette, and a swing to her hip: jutted outward, and sunk to lax states. "sure did, baby." a click of mari's tongue sounds, form navigating to lean over the coffee table — hands folding a lighter into her palm. "but don't get too u — used to it." a grin bares itself clean, a chuckle tempting at the back of her throat. "i'd hate to see you mourn such a brief encounter."

[gloomfaithed]

@regulus-regent / cont. X

Really, could she be faulted for honing in on him? It had taken only one good look and a curious gauge in the Force to know that he was the most powerful individual in this bar. He also had a tail.

Talon too had just come here for a quick refreshment, and this bar was the least grimy. It was preferable compared to the other options. There was no sign of any disturbance or trouble either, so when she had entered the establishment, she would not have expected to be met with such an impressive presence. Interesting. Perhaps he was some kind of bounty hunter? His attire was difficult to assign to any planet known to her.

For now she just sat down at a safe distance right at the bar counter, yellow eyes focused on him and meeting his gaze. He was intimidating, but she had trust in her own capabilities. Besides, he, as much as her, seemingly just wanted a break.

When the barkeep asked her what she wanted to drink, she was momentarily distracted and ordered an alcohol free beverage.

[lightfaithed]

@saburaito

The ship looked like it was only held together by dreams and wishes, but on a remote and poor planet like Tatooine beggars can't be choosers. Finding a transport to the mid rim was already a task in itself and managing to secure a spot doubly so. So even though Obi-Wan didn't feel comfortable boarding the ship, he had no choice if he wanted to travel.

It wasn't too big, holding only six passengers total. Obi-Wan sat down on a seat by the window and crossed his arms. The journey was going to take long, because the ship was a charter flight stopping at other locations first. When all seats were taken, the pilot took off. At the first stop, four passengers got off, leaving only him and another man. The ship took off again to continue the journey.

He had just begun to think that perhaps this journey was not bound to be a great disaster, when they dropped out of hyperspace and practically into the lap of what had to be a large pirate vessel. Obi-Wan fell out of his seat when the pilot made a very sharp turn, dipping the entire ship with a shocked cry.

Obi-Wan only barely managed to keep the other passenger from crashing into him and against the wall by using the Force. It had been a spur of the moment, a quick decision that his muscle memory had basically made without asking him first. He slowed the other's fall. "I got you! I got you."

[guidefaithed]

@cosmorot (Aphrodite)

One of the most difficult relationships in the galaxy was the one between Vulcans and love. Love couldn't be any further removed from logic. Yet it was still something every Vulcan felt. To T'Pring it was the hardest emotion to subdue and also the hardest not to act on. A lot of her behaviour was born out of love, but she, like most Vulcans, dressed it up in the garment of rationality. Rehabilitating criminals was now a clear boon to society, instead of T'Pring simply caring for others and knowing she can make a difference in their lives.

She was unsure why, but her present company compelled her to be more honest about the topic than she was used to. "I find it difficult to express romantic affection without being too overbearing. I don't mean to suffocate a partner." Her wants were funnily enough more in line with how humans handled their romantic entanglements, something a Vulcan partner may not find very appealing. "Do you know of those moments where you wish to pursue someone but you fear it could cause them to become more estranged from you?"

[manicpanicaddict]

“This part of town isn’t a good place to be at this time of night.” - Jimmy hxuntedshxdows

Egon looked about, not sure at first if was him the comment was directed to. He offered the stranger a glance once he was sure it was only the two of them.

He wasn't exactly sure what to say back; he stood there and absently twisted the curly hair on the nape of his neck between his fingers. In his hometown people seemed to know better than to speak to him. And he didn't really mind that. It was easier that way.

And so only after the silence grew to be more painful than not replying, he did.

"...I don't believe any place is a good place to be at any time of day. We're in Ohio."

[thedeadthree]

I THINK I HAVE A NAME FOR THE W*ITCHER FIC OH MY DARN TOOTIN GODDDD !!!!!!!!!!!!

[quietresistance]

continued from here ╲ ( @songandflame )

                     the muck of the streets threatened to soak through the leather of her boots, but naught but a shove into it might daunt her from her purpose.   frigid fingers of breeze crept about the edges of her coat, seeping even through the layers of wool which clad her from head to toe.   so many of those about her were not clothed with half as much warmth, an ache forming within at the mere thought.   danger too laid in wait.   if she had not been with several companions, all on the same mission, even she would have baulked at exploration.

                     adventure, however, remained the furthest concept from her mind.   the state of some quarters of the city had tugged at more heartstrings at the embassy than her own, a welcome discovery.   in the midst of it all, it seemed so entirely hopeless, even pretentious, but that only gave her the slightest of pauses.

                     no matter how paltry a few thick, new blankets, a few assorted medicines, and bread might be, it might provide some brief comfort.

                     was it how despondent the woman appeared compared to her compatriots?   or the bluish tint to her fingers which katherine could spot even in the dusk?   perhaps she could not have ever said herself, but the woman was the first that katherine approached, wrapping a woolen blanket about her shoulders as words choked in the american’s throat.  

                     it was not merely her first reaction, but then how the woman insisted she would pay for her daughter, clearly intending to give the blanket to the child, thankfully nowhere to be seen on the icy street.   one mitten wrapped about the corner of the blanket, ensuring it would not fall from the woman’s shoulders, katherine set the other atop the woman’s hands, a slight shake of her bonneted head punctuating her accented insistence.     ❝  no, no, madame, it is a gift.   no charge, i swear.  ❞

[auroradicit]

@strongfuck said: also [ slide ] — sender crawls under the covers to cuddle up to receiver | bed & sleep prompts | selectively accepting

She'd like to say she snapped awake as Rhys entered the room. It'd be a better habit, if occasionally inconvenient. Truth is, Kalma rouses enough to make sure it's him before pulling back the hand that'd been brushing against the vibroknife under her pillow.

She's getting comfortable. Something to deal with in the morning later, just like everything else on the long and growing list. For now...

He pulls her close. She sighs as she shifts, tucking her head under his chin and bringing a hand up to skate along the line of his spine in quiet welcome. He's cool with the outside air and smells faintly like ozone.

"All alright?"

[illwriteatragedy]

MIDNIGHTS;  accepting. @ruinaa​ said:  “  you can face this.  “

          so it goes.  he doesn’t pull the trigger,  twice now.  

          and if he keeps on going,  there has to be something different than the past.  he cannot separate himself from this;  detach and dissociate and let it just happen.  that was the hardest part of it all:  facing himself.  the things that he had done and he had chosen,  the moments that had led him to this point.  he had wanted to consider himself a better man for the people he loved;  he wanted to be more than the weapon he was born to be,  but he had ended up weaponizing love instead.  

           so when he makes that choice,  and he puts the gun back down,  he calls her.  

           she knows he has never been one to talk a lot,  but he lets the conversations go longer once he is back in new york.  he asks her more questions.  he tries to let her know that he wants to see her,  without overdoing it.  when he’s able to ask for dinner,  and when he’s finally able to tell her that he can’t do this anymore,  that he misses her  --  he considers it a step in the right direction.  (  she cries,  he holds her hand across the table,  and they don’t talk about that she’s taken her wedding ring off and he hasn’t.  ) 

            she goes home.  he asks to see her again,  and the second time they have dinner,  he asks to walk her back to shilah’s apartment.  it is there that she must know he is struggling with it;  how could she not?  this was the woman who knew him inside and out,  who had told him that it was okay to be himself,  the first person in the world who saw beyond what he was but what he could be,  and had loved him for it,  and  --  

          you can face this.  

           isn’t it a terrible thing?  for everything he’s done,  to have her still look at him with those eyes,  and to give him this patience once more?  

           “  it should have always been you.  “  it is the first time they are acknowledging it.  “  there’s no going back.  but if i could  --  “  his hands tremble.  he cannot reach out to her,  only to himself right now.  the words are all there,  at the tip of his tongue,  and he should say them  --  say them like he means them,  because he does,  desperately.  “  i should have fought for you,  josephine.  i should have protected you.  it should have never gotten this far.  and  --  i know you’ve taken off your wedding ring,  and i don’t know what that means for us,  but if i have to take every day and show you how much i want this  --  “  

          he stops,  overwhelmed.  (  what would it mean,  if they parted here?  what would it mean for the future?  there has only ever been one option for him.  her.  her.  always her.  )  “  --  everyday from here to the end,  you will always be my choice.  “  

[toprayarc]

if mari dai were to tell the truth, and only the truth, so help her god, she may as well be standing witness. slumped at the precipice. slid across home plate, smacked behind bars, and shoved into the system she's torn apart with every inch of her teeth. if she were to be honest, transparent, the kind of girl who wears her heart on her sleeve— then she may not be mari dai at all ... and if bucky knew any better, he might've accepted that by now. swallowed it as the hard pill it's meant to be. she's a liar, a snake, a sword sheathed in flaming exteriors, and if he's asking her to be anything else: then he's barking up the wrong tree. fallen down the wrong alley. fixating on a fact that no longer is, and if it was mari's choice, then she'd say that it never was.

"you don't get to tell me what's important." — @readapt.

here, the truth is a shattered smack in the face, and neither of them know how to piece back together the shards, but what's new? —not like either of them are particularly put together people, mari thinks, and bites down on the inside of her cheek. bitter. "whatever." she spits out, like a watermelon seed stuck in a revolver: not hard enough to hit, but soft enough to sting. "you're making a b — big deal about shit that doesn't matter anymore." her boot kicks into the rubble, scuffing against the leather of her shoe. arms cross, and her gaze shoots to the side. "it's different, now. —i'm different."

[gloomfaithed]

“ i can help.”

Accepting help was a necessary skill for survival, but Talon wasn't good at it, even in this injured state. It meant swallowing one's pride and admitting that one was overwhelmed. The idea of failure made her uncomfortable and embarrassed her, especially in front of a stranger. Yellow eyes narrowed at him as she assessed his intentions, holding her injured arm. She couldn't feel any ill intent. "How?" she asked, curious on how he planned to tend to her wounds in a way that she couldn't without any bacta at hand. "And what do you want in exchange?" Nobody did anything out of the kindess of their heart, she was sure of it.

[lightfaithed]

@sithdestined

Sometimes it even scares Obi-Wan just how synchronized he and Anakin truly are. All it takes is one glance and they both know what the other wants to do. Obi-Wan jumps left, knowing Anakin will jump right. Both swipe the droidekas apart with their sabers. It's a dance, beautiful art. As if they both spent hours studying this choregraphy.

They do spend hours with each other, lots of lightsaber training. Even that aside, they watch each other on missions, in battles and outside of them. They know how the other moves, and if Anakin moves any different from usual, Obi-Wan knows he must be injured or something else is wrong with him.

The droidekas fall apart at their feet. Obi-Wan isn't someone who finds any thrill in battle, but his heart is singing and the adrenaline is pumping through his veins, because he's fighting with Anakin by his side, and that is something special that never gets old. "They could bring out an entire army of droidekas, and they'd be no match for us," he grins.

Of course, that's when five more of them show up, but his point is still standing!

[guidefaithed]

@tapalslegacy

The Jedi temple was beautiful. The structure was harmonic in its design, with an even amount of pillars not only at the top, but also scattered within the spacious halls. It was plain to see that numerology had played a role in the construction and that the building had been optimized to induce a calmness that made striving for balance and meditation easier. While of course not Vulcan the architecture still ticked many boxes and T'Pring found it pleasing. "Thank you for giving me a tour, Master Kestis. I find the temple to be very stimulating."

Even the Jedi themselves were fascinating to watch. The Order was comprised of so many different species, and quite a few of them were entirely unknown to her just like T'Pring was the first Vulcan to walk these halls. She spotted two Jedi of differing species bowing at each other in greeting. A seamless and fluid motion, despite their differing physiology. "I can observe a deep unity despite biological differences."

[valsilverhand-archive]

TFW your worm is a short king

[manicpanicaddict]

"I don't antagonize you for your preferred selection of... literature," he folds his issue of Playboy closed while keeping his place, "Do you mind?"

[nanlanmoarchived]

A plotted starter for @hairoic !

The Star Court was on fire.

Jessica was glued to the TV as she watched the broadcast of the mall burning to cinders. What the fuck was she going to do? That was where she worked. Hell, it was half of Hawkins' teenage population worked and now it was just. . .gone. Eden was yammering away about wanting to go to the scene and watch it for herself but the older of the sisters put a hard stop on that. The last place their uncle would want them is next to a giant powder keg.

She's standing, chewing on the side of her thumb as she watched the broadcast when the doorbell cut over the chatter. The redhead flinched as the sound called her back to reality. Who the fuck was on her doorstep at this hour? An eerie feeling draped itself over her shoulders. Between the mall fire and now an unexpected visitor, there was a weird feeling in the air and she didn't like it.

"Upstairs." She gently shooed her sister away with. If, for some reason, tonight was the night the town went crazy, better she had some distance between whatever craziness showed up at their door and her sister. At first when she popped open the door, she couldn't tell who had rung the bell but when it dawned on her, her brows knit tightly together and she stepped aside to open the door wide enough for him to come in, "Steve?" It's been years since they've had a conversation outside of school, let alone being at one another's house. And this wasn't just a drop-by considering how beat to shit he looked. "Come inside." She motioned down the hall towards the kitchen, "Down that way, I'll get the first aid kit."