#and yes both of these things are constantly rotating in my brain at any given time

[dawning-day]

on this episode of freaks on the internet dictate my life choices

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 10

[I did another thing! This one is a lot shorter than the last several have been and a little more filler-y BUT we’re getting close to canon stuff (that I’m trying to figure out how I want to write and format still). SO here we gooooo!]

Vegeta

Any miniscule time he was forced to spend alone with Frieza aggravated the prince. Whether to bear the brunt of some reprimand, to listen to him discuss business to an audience of intergalactic dignitaries at a stupid feast he was dragged to and forced to endure like some pet, or to nod along with him prattling on about himself and insulting Vegeta or his race in a single breath, he preferred it when running an empire distracted Frieza from his existence. This rare occasion of the tyrant requesting his company on a special mission had the same effects: the usual rage of being helpless to end the emperor's life, the discomfort of watching his every step and word, the humiliation of bearing his belittling commentary and pretending to be his proud, obedient attack dog. It was maddening, and the only solace in the trip was that he left Dodoria and Zarbon both been behind to attend to other business.

Nappa, Raditz, and Nabooru had also been ordered to deal with another assignment while Vegeta accompanied Frieza. Disconcerting due to the fact that, in circumstances such as this, his cohorts would be ordered to remain on base until his return, placed on a schedule that included training and any other grunt work the commanders could find for them. However, he supposed Frieza wanted to keep his top teams busy conquering planets for him. Vegeta hadn't missed the increase in work they had been assigned, and even their latest three day reprieve had been cut short. He tried to convince himself it all meant nothing, that, even if Frieza noticed how the four of them trained more often than usual in their free time, his ego would keep him from getting too suspicious. But Vegeta couldn't deny the increase in his own paranoia with each passing day. Each day he stepped closer to exacting revenge and killing the bastard, and he constantly found himself dwelling on every possible scenario that could skew or outright obliterate his plot.

"It's almost a relief to have different company for once," Frieza mused, a wine glass held between his middle and index fingers. He nodded to the bottle, a silent insistence Vegeta top him off. The Saiyan swallowed his grimace and did as he was bade. Zarbon's or Dodoria’s usual task. He noted the shift of his crimson eyes to the still near full glass in his gloved hand, and took the hint to take another measured sip. "Zarbon and Dodoria tend to bore me after a while. And their bickering...if they weren't so loyal and useful, I may have offed them by now out of sheer annoyance."

Vegeta chuckled, practiced amusement and rehearsed reactions. "I can only imagine," he responded. Another glance spurred him to add, "I suffer the same with Raditz and Nappa. Though it's less their bickering than some inane, disgusting topic of conversation I don't care to hear in detail."

"Yes, I suppose that is an unfortunate vice of the lower classes, their obsessions with sating their lust." Frieza swirled the wine in his glass, black lips downturned in disgust. "A product of lower brain function, I suppose. They have little more than lewd absurdity to keep their minds occupied. Something the two of us fortunately don't suffer from."

The prince bowed his head, performing each gesture that appeased Frieza with loathing. He didn't care for his useless compliments. He found it hard to focus on them when all he could imagine was ripping those horns from his head and burying them in his eye sockets. Or shoving the wine glass into his mouth and forcing him to chew it up and swallow the shards to laugh as he watched him spit blood onto the pristine floor.  "Thank you, my lord. Your compliments are the highest honor."

"And they do not come lightly, Vegeta. You are an enigma of your kind. Had your race not perished, you would have made a fine ruler. Far better than your father." Vegeta ignored the twinge of rage his words plucked in favor of focusing on drinking the dry wine. "Yes, my tutelage has done wonders for you. Perhaps if my father had done the same with yours as I have done for you, perhaps he, too, could have evolved from a mere monkey playing court and dressed in regalia to a full-fledged ruler."

To keep his grip loose on the stem of his glass and not shatter it proved challenging in the face of his father's mockery. No matter his mixed feelings of the deceased Saiyan king, he did not take insults of his memory well. Especially from the likes of Frieza. He bit his tongue and once more drank to silence the blazing barrage of insults he wanted to sling in retort. 

"You are too kind, my lord." The words burned like acid on his tongue. "I agree that my growth under your watchful eye has favored me greatly. I thank you."

"Of course. I saw promise in you the moment I set eyes on you. However, there is always room to grow and learn, wouldn't you say?"

His tone, the smirk on his lips, ramped Vegeta's paranoia to near overload. Had Frieza found out about his plotting? Led him and his team straight into a trap of some sort?

He was given little time to consider as Frieza spoke up again. "Earlier you only mentioned your Saiyan comrades. It reminded me that you and I have never fully discussed the fourth I added to your team. How has she fared?"

"Nabooru is a competent warrior, well-versed in her craft and battle strategy. She fits in well, and, outside of being mouthy and questioning my authority once in a while, she's proven her worth." He glanced to the wide window before them, to the passing stars and junk, the endless void of space. "She learns quickly and strives to improve where she can. She was hesitant to carry out orders, but has grown out of it for the most part."

Frieza laughed. "Such a glowing report from the commander who pitched a fit over my decision." Vegeta's lips tightened to a thin line and his brows lowered ever further, only encouraging the emperor's delight. "I can't say I'm surprised she has a belligerent streak. Her former king said the same of her when I asked in one of our visits. Your temper must be improving if her first strike didn't convince you to kill her. I have seen you kill for less, after all, Vegeta."

Vegeta clicked his tongue. "She's simply lucky she figured out not to take her insubordination too far with me. Otherwise, I would have. Her power level and skill be damned."

"A lesson well-learned, it seems. I recall it took you some time to learn the same, but I suppose you had the excuse of being a mere child."

Vegeta merely nodded, the memories of the physical abuses doled out by Frieza's or one of his cohorts' hands when he rebelled and the scars left behind all too fresh despite their age. The mental mutilation of the mind games the tyrant played with him. Each had served their purpose because he vowed and showed respect to the bastard with little beckoning. It made him sick, clawed at his pride and convinced him death would be a more pleasant fate. But he wanted revenge more than anything, so survive he must. No matter the cost. It would be worth it someday.

"Sir, we are approaching our target," the captain announced. "T-minus five minutes."

"Excellent. Remember, there will be no need to land here." 

Vegeta glanced to Frieza when his scouter pinged. He pressed the button on the side. "Ah, what good timing, Nabooru. You have landed on Planet Noya and met with the other team there?"

Frieza cut the transmission and sighed dramatically. "Unfortunate, really." He finished off his wine and set the glass aside. "Shikoo and his team were quite the commodity. But one too many rumors about stoking rebellions and insubordination makes it difficult to keep such bad seeds among the loyal."

He waited for her reply, the smirk on his lips growing ever wider. "Yes, yes, I am aware of the success in purging the planet. The instructions to rendezvous with the soldiers sent to Noya were...purposefully vague. The task for you and the Saiyans is to kill that team. Don't worry your pretty head over why, dear. It's unbecoming of a soldier.. Their punishment has been a long time coming."

Vegeta's throat closed up and his mouth dried out. "The proper decision, it sounds like, sire," he managed, finishing his own glass and abandoning it. "Not to overstep my own boundaries, but I assumed we were purging this planet we're going to."

"We are. In a sense." He hoisted himself into his hover chair and propped his elbow on the edge, cheek resting in his palm. His crimson gaze rested on Vegeta, unblinking. "The denizens are...formidable enough, especially en masse, and intel suggests they wish to rebel against me. I have decided the time and potential casualties aren't worth the effort for what little the planet has to offer in the long run, so destroying it entirely will be a far better use for dealing with them. One and done, as they say."

A rare instance in which Vegeta agreed with Frieza’s methodology. He wished he would pass down such an order more often than he did, frankly. Putting down rebellions wasted time when they typically ended up murdering them all anyway. Any extra precautions and instructions usually forced them to hold back or went up in smoke not long after they landed. While he understood that some planets had more value than others, blowing up the planets and washing their hands of the business would allow them to take on more jobs. Send a team to gather whatever resources from the planet beforehand and then he and his team or one like his could destroy the place and move on. Not to mention he liked the thrill, the power behind destroying an entire world on his own.

A blue green planet slowly drifted into view, decent sized with a large landmass facing the ship in its current position in its rotation. Frieza waved for him to follow him to the center of the ship. "Come along. Vegeta. We will approach close enough that your ki will protect you from the lack of oxygen. I will allow you to do the honors." 

Vegeta took the blare of the signal for the opening of the uppermost hatch as his cue to surround himself in a protective barrier of energy. While he could not survive the void of space this way, it offered protection from suffocation for at least a few minutes. More than enough to obliterate the planet and retreat into the safety of the ship once more. He followed Frieza up and through the hatch, hovering over it and facing the planet.

Though only allowed the chance to destroy entire planets on a few occasions, he made a point to remember what it felt like. The exact amount of energy he needed to build in his palms, how to adjust for the size and density of the planet. Back of one hand pressed to his palm, he shifted his arms back behind his head. Violet energy surged around his hands, his body, the draw and thrill of powering up familiar and welcome. Up and up he allowed his energy to rise until he deemed it the perfect amount to accomplish the task at hand. He shoved his hands outward once more and the stored cache of energy fired from his palms and through space, surging through the planet's atmosphere and striking the surface within seconds. The blast drilled through the landmass toward the core, wide cracks and fiery splotches already spreading from the point of contact.

With another beckoning from Frieza, Vegeta lingered a moment longer to watch the spectacle of magma shooting upward and his blast rending the planet in twain before following him back into the ship. The hatch closed and they returned to the navigation deck.

"Not bad, prince," Frieza drawled, scarlet gaze locked on the demolition out the window. "A bit messy, but unfortunately we don't have time to witness the entire fireworks show." A nod to the captain. "To our next destination."

The captain bowed and turned back to the controls. Before they swiveled around fully, Vegeta caught a glimpse of the planet's final moments: a series of explosions peppering the surface as its stability caved. Within moments, it would be nothing but space dust floating among the stars. A mere memory until it faded from it. Would any of its race survive? Would they hear the news of their home's destruction immediately, or only find empty blackness when they return? Would they, too, be plucked from whatever refuge allowed their survival to serve the Cold Empire? Told that a meteor destroyed their planet and they really had little other choice left as the empire still technically owned them?

His jaw tightened. He couldn't dwell on such things. None of it mattered. It never did. I never would.

[raging-violets]

The hopeless romantic in me tells me 51 or 23, but whatever you choose to write will be great :)

A/N: The hopeless romantic in me just decided to put both together. Lol. So numbers 23 and 51 for Kiley ended up being, “Just pretend to be my date.” And “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” So I likened this to feel like it could be an extension of an episode of the show, as if the Jacksons were actually there but still hold onto that romantic element I love to stick them in, rather than something more serious and angsty between Kiley as I tend to write. What do you think? Would it fit in the episode? Did it sound like it would?

Stealth edit: Tumblr’s formatting is killing me!!!

Tag: @pearlselegancies @witchofinterest @foxesandmagic @mystic-scripture

Kendall wondered how his life could get much worse. If it wasn’t for the “horsey back ride” he’d been forced into when Bobby leapt onto his back at the beginning of the day, which he was still feeling the effects of, it was definitely seeing the look on Bobby’s face when Katie had bid her brother goodbye to go to the park.

If it were possible to have heart eyes, that was look Bobby had given Katie. Or, the thought that made Kendall shudder every time it slammed into his brain, Bobby saw Katie walking in slow motion with her hair blowing back from her face and the 70s-esque guitar solo playing in his head. It upset Kendall to no end.

But the cover of Pop Tiger was important to him, to the band, just as Kendall was important to Katie. He knew it was only a matter of time until she agreed to let Bobby hang out with them so that their band could succeed. And she did it with a gritted-tooth smile…until he tried to kiss her. And she punched him, and he ran off sulking. And they raced around the Palm Woods trying to find him, sending Annie Windsor, the editor of Pop Tiger, on a wild goose chase to convince her they were playing hide and seek.

It was one thing to see guys start to notice his baby sister, fans of his that may have mentioned it here and there—they were far enough away that he didn’t have to worry about it. It was one thing to see guys stop and stare as they walked down the street—he could glare at them and they’d turn away in shame. It was another thing to have Bobby turn around and shriek-ask in a way that only an obnoxious teenage boy could, “Whoa, who was that?”

“My sister, Katie,” he’d replied simply, only for his eyes to widen in horror when Bobby continued with, “Dude, hook me up!”

“No!” He practically yelped. “You won a date with me…not my sister.”

“And now I want to date your sister. She’s smokin’ hot!”

But all of that was pushed aside when Katie finally agreed to dance with Bobby at least once during the party if he apologized for trying to kiss her, making her punch him. Bobby quickly agreed, practically squealing, “Thanks, Kendall, for the best day ever!” as he glomped him in another ‘horsey back’ ride.

The relief hit him then, all the stress of the day melted away, knowing he managed to turn the day around and save the cover for himself and his friends. It was music to his ears when Anne Windsor said, “Okay, well, let’s get a photo and let’s get to the party,” and he posed for a photo that would be placed along the pages of Pop Tiger to accompany the article of their day.

Then everything  turned to horror when Bobby rotated toward Kendall with wide, innocent eyes, (Kendall wondered if Bobby was possessed) and said, “You want me to hook you up with someone? Now that I’m Katie’s date?”

Kendall’s eyes widened, Katie’s face screwed up in confusion, and Anne Windsor nodded, tapping her pen against her cheek as she said, “That’s right, now Kendall doesn’t have a date.”

“Well, uh, it’s not like we can't…just…” Kendall looked to Katie for some help, for an excuse to keep from having to deal with the same drama all over again. She made a face and shrugged in response, gently shaking her head. An image of another Bruna flashed before Kendall’s eyes, making him stammer. “Share Bobby as our date, right? I mean, there’s enough for him to go around!”

“I’m sure there is,” Anne Windsor replied with a tight laugh. “But we’re not that kind of magazine.”

Kendall’s face screwed up as he mulled over her words. Katie shrugged as she was swept away by Anne and her photographer, taking pictures of her and Bobby as they went. Kendall forced a smile in response; part of him hating the fact that Katie was going on a date, part of him wondering how Patrick was going to take it, and part of him wondering how he was going to get out of this problem.

He spun around at the sound of someone coming down the swirly slide, watching when it spilled Riley to the floor. She pulled herself up and brushed off the seat of her pants. “Hey,” she said, shooting him a tiny glare, “Did you find Bobby?”

“Yep!” Kendall paused for a second. “And I need you to pretend to be my date.”

Riley’s head jerked back, her face screwing up into an expression that was a mixture of disbelief and confusion. “What?” She paused and lifted a finger, pointing at him. “Wait, is this still about getting on the cover of Pop Tiger?” She eyed him warily when he pointed finger guns at her. “You’re not going to throw me into the bloody pool again, are you? I finally got dry.”

“First, I’m sorry about that.” Kendall held his hands up defensively, almost as if he were about to make the sing of the cross to keep her from lunging at him. (Not that he truly though it’d be a problem. She did have some devious tendencies, and he swore he’d only seen silhouette of devil horns and tail in her shadow once). “But we did end up finding Bobby.”

“Oh yeah?” She folded her arms, looking at him seriously. “Where?”

“In the swirly slide!” Kendall leaned over and patted the top of the swirly slide, the tube making a hollow 'thunk’ sound as he did so. “Turns out he really could live in there. And I need you to pretend to be my date.”

“I caught that the first time, Hockey-Head,” Riley said. She twirled her fingers in the air. “Still trying to figure out how everything came to that point. I must’ve missed that while I had my head underwater.”

“Your head’s underwater on a daily basis,” Kendall replied. His eyes scoured the floor for the tell-tale sign she’d been to the beach. “You’re just not leaving a trail of sand this time.”

She rolled her eyes. “Kendall.”

“What?”

“The party?”

“Right! So…” and Kendall explained everything that had happened the whole day since he’d unceremoniously pushed her into the pool so that she and her sarcasm didn’t ruin the carefully crafted ruse he’d put up for Bobby’s disappearance. “And now Katie’s going to the party with him as a date, and now I need to find one before we can’t share Bobby because they’re not 'that kind of magazine’,” he used air quotes around the words, noticing her blue eyes bobbing in sync with his hand movements. “And I need to so we can move up Pop Tiger’s mega…something…” he didn’t care to know what it was anymore. “And I’m tired of Gustavo and Kelly constantly asking me what’s going on with Jo being in New Zealand, and being asked in interviews if I’m dating, I’m tired of Carlos hugging me,” Kendall’s eyes closed into a pained expression. “And I’m tired of Logan’s puppet shows!” He took a deep breath, feeling all the tension release from his shoulders. Wow…how long had he bene holding all of that in? “Just pretend to be my date,” he said. “And we can get through this day and forget it.”

Riley looked at him for a long moment. “Okay,” she said simply.

Kendall blinked in surprise. “Okay?” He repeated. He looked at her suspiciously. “You’re not going to make this hard? Make fun of me in some way?”

“I reckon you’ve already had a long day, Hockey-Head,” Riley replied with a smirk. “I don’t need to make it any more entertaining.” Her smirk eased into a soft expression. One he couldn’t quite place. She shrugged, saying, “But why pretend? We always have fun when we go to things like this.”

“Yeah,” Kendall agreed, his voice growing as soft as her expression. His eyebrows furrowed, unsure of what he was feeling. Of why Jo wasn’t the first thing that popped into his mind as it would have a month before. “We do,” he agreed, speaking almost to himself. He hummed quietly. “Wow.”

“What?” She asked.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner,” he said. “To just have you be my date for the day, instead of having to deal with this stupid contest.” He picked up the discarded Pop Tiger issue that announced the contest, shaking his head at the image on the cover. “Win A Date with Big Time Rush,” he read aloud. “Spend a day with the boys at the world famous PalmWoods. And wrap up your date with a Big Time Party in the very studio where the guys record their hits. Only the boys’ biggest fans will win.” He shook his head, tossing the magazine away. “Why look when our biggest fan is right here?” He gestured toward her.

“How’d you know I’d say yes, then?” she asked.

“Because I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking,” Kendall replied.

Silence stretched between them. A sort of tension growing that he hadn’t noticed—or had noticed and wouldn’t entertain while Jo was around—before. Riley blinked slowly. Tilted her head. Eyed him closely. Let out a low breath as she reached up to run a hand through her hair, brushing her strand of red hair from her dark blue eyes that practically pierced through him.

“And how’s that?” She finally asked.

“Happy,” he said honestly.

“It doesn’t take much for you to make me happy, Hockey-Head,” she said, just as honestly. In an almost rare sort of honesty that not any others were able to see, but she allowed him to. The sincere honesty—he didn’t have to question it, knew from how quickly she responded to him that made him smile gently. Hell, he had to do his best not to grin like a loon, dimples forming in his cheeks.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Riley grinned back. She lifted her chin, slightly turned her head away, looked him in the eye, her own flashing with amusement that made him gently roll his eyes, knowing her response was coming before she even said it. “Why do you think?”

[thehivemindwrites]

A  Series of Disconnected Thoughts, Cast into the Void in No Particular Order

1. I’ve been finding myself thinking more and more about Kill Six Billion Demons recently. Not just because it’s absolutely gorgeous artwork and Moebius-meets-prog-metal stylings are extremely my shit (KSBD is responsible for adding Gojira to my rotation of workout music, and that alone has me in its debt), but because I can really appreciate a main character who is a walking disaster coming to some kind of enlightenment through a combination of getting her ass handed to her repeatedly, making questionable decisions, and basically just deciding to struggle forwards because I don’t know, what the fuck else is there to do? It’s hardly original (see: basically any shounen about The Power of Friendship and Not Giving Up) but damn if the presentation of it in this particular case isn’t particularly delightful. Plus it gave us the image of a giant hulking demon wearing a jacket that says KILL BOSS and that’s rad.The creator of KSBD is also co-creator, as it happens, of the newly released Lancer TTRPG, which I backed on Kickstarter and will, one day, get a rad fucking hardcover copy of (but for now I’m reading through the pdf and swearing oaths that one day I will play it). Anyway, as someone who also got where he is through a series of questionable decisions and getting his ass handed to him by life in general (oh, and an enormous amount of luck), I can relate. Plus the phrase “Reach heaven through violence,” while kind of terrible on the surface, feels good to shout at yourself while you’re off for a run. 

2. Part of this whole exercise thing - a side-effect of it, if you wanna call it that - is that generally I feel better about myself like in general. I’ve mentioned that before. What it doesn’t do, of course, is magically mean that I’m now 100% good and not still dogged by a persistent sense of self-loathing that I’ve just had to accept will never really go away. Like for example: I’ve lost 35 kg since starting this whole gym thing, except you might remember the goal was 40. I still haven’t hit that goal, and frankly I’ve spent the last like three months bouncing around the same like, 3 kg zone because I’ve been traveling a lot and that basically fucks up my workout and eating routine. It’s frustrating, and it sure does let the part of me that knows deep down that I’m a fat fucker and always will be no matter what I do run wild from time to time. Which is, I’m coming to understand, just gonna always be there. This stuff doesn’t go away! Ever! 

Which doesn’t mean it’s right, even a little. You tune it out and throw yourself into battle with it over and over again. You get bloodied and broken and claw back and then you get bloodied and broken some more. Insert that gif from Princess Bride of Westly saying LIFE IS PAIN, HIGHNESS here. Thing is, there’s something about the struggle that’s nice. I am not sure how motivated I’d be to do anything if part of it wasn’t motivated by the desire to prove my dumb brain wrong about, uh, me. If I wasn’t fighting the various little demons that plague me every so often, I doubt I’d be so well-adjusted. I certainly wouldn’t be mentally healthy. None of this makes sense as I read it back, of course - it sounds like I’m saying “boy it’s nice to be miserable,” which isn’t true. Being miserable sucks shit! I don’t recommend it! But it is nice to see misery coming and punch it in the face (metaphorically speaking). Sometimes I think the thing that makes me go to the gym and work so hard (this sounds like I’m bragging, but I can assure you I’m not - “work so hard” means “not collapse and fall off the elliptical after five minutes because oh god I don’t want to be here”) is out of some desire for self-annihilation through pushing myself past my physical limits. Reach heaven through violence (see, I told you it sounded cool).

3. The world has gotten really fucking bad for a lot of people, and I don’t know that it will get better for them any time soon. In fact, given the latest talk from the ol’ UN Climate Change report, it’s gonna get even worse. I would very much prefer that were not the case! It’s motivation enough to get out and vote and shit, at least for me - and as someone who is, you know, ridiculously privileged, that’s the absolute least I can do. Which is why I try to do more, mostly involving donating money to causes that seem like they’re able to cause the sort of trouble that needs to be caused. Or just use expertise to protect the people I don’t know how to protect, because I’m a lot of things, and one of them happens to be smart enough to know that I don’t know shit. So I make sure people that do know shit have the money they need. Pretty straightforward, I think. 

The other thing I try to do, because giving money isn’t really something I think about much at all (I’m stupidly fucking fortunate to have a job that pays well, remember), is occasionally go out and actually be present at protests and the like - there are a lot of climate protests and they’re all a good time. Occasionally it’s worth overcoming one’s intense social anxiety to do so. Lord knows it’s significantly less of a risk for me to be out shouting at cops than most. 

4. She-Ra might be one of the best shows out there. There’s something nice about a show that both does and does not present a simple world. Yes, the Horde is bad. Like, objectively bad! They do a lot of looting and subjugating and are generally just deeply not chill people.On the other hand, the people who make up the Horde are still people, and I have a lot of time for a show that can manage to humanize its Big Bad Villain whilst still making it very clear they are  still, you know, not good. It’s messy, and complicated, and sad, because sometimes you have to fight people you used to be friends with! Sometimes you have to make the call that hey, we can’t be friends anymore, because I can’t support the things you’re doing anymore. I’ve made that call before - I bet everyone has, at some point (if you haven’t, I’m sure you’ll have to eventually). Fortunately for me, it’s never been that difficult of a choice, if only because the people I had to go against weren’t people I’d known for very long. 

Anyway, that’s part of it - you gotta just cut people out sometimes. There’s more to it though, because the other thing the show believes is that everyone - even the real shitty people - can change. It doesn’t mean everything’s forgiven, and it doesn’t erase all the bad shit, but they can still change. It’s worth changing, even if it isn’t a cure-all. 

So yeah, I like She-Ra a lot. It’s also just well-written, and funny, and it’s a real good time to see a bunch of diverse characters running around having adventures and being fuckin’ rad. Plus, they’ve shown an incredible willingness to completely change the stakes from season to season - the end of season four in particular is  the equivalent of detonating all the things you thought were important. It pulls a bait and switch so ruthless that I might have applauded if I wasn’t so self-conscious about making noise that my neighbors might hear. The combination of season 3 and 4 was a masterclass on raising the stakes and then explaining that actually, you were playing for stakes even higher than you could’ve thought possible. Oh, and the people you thought you could trust were just using you, and hey, what if we got rid of the thing that you’ve more or less defined yourself by for the entire show? Good luck in season five, motherfucker! I’m a fan, is what I’m saying.

6. Work on Vanquisher 2103 continues apace. I mentioned this before, but we’re doing a once-a-month schedule while the holidays and work beat my ass into the ground, and as it turns out I really enjoy taking a full month to write a chapter. It’s a comically slow pace, but it’s working for me and hopefully the fact that the chapters have tended to be a little longer (and allowed me to expand on ideas a little more, and do a little more research here and there) makes it worth the longer wait. I’d like this thing to be good! There’s a part of my brain, again, that will always insist that nobody reads this and it’s bad and I’m fucking up, constantly - that point, at least, is probably accurate. I am writing characters who in theory have life experiences that are very much Not Mine, which involves a lot of reading things from people who would know better than I do. It’s nerve-wracking, and the only thing I am bone-deep certain of is that I’ll fuck up and hopefully y’all will forgive me for fucking up when that happens. I’ll keep reading and refining and eventually maybe it’ll be okay. Hopefully, anyway.

7. I went to Ireland and guys, Ireland is bullshit. I am offended by its gorgeous cliff-sides and open grasslands and heart-rending beauty. The immense friendliness of the people I met and the fact that you can’t sit in a pub without hearing some dude play a jaunty reel on a tin whistle or accordion or something is a personal insult. I was Arthur Dent angrily demanding to know why this bloody fish is so good the whole time.

I cultivated an immense drinking habit while there. I was also approached by a random German tourist who somehow clocked that I could speak German and we shouted about socialism for an hour auf Deutsch. I met some woman from Louisiana and we ended up having drinks a couple nights in a row to talk about traveling in general and Germany in particular, because her ex-husband is German. There were some Swedish retirees who were both very pleased by their country’s social safety net and also depressingly sour about the fact that refugees got cheap dental care - we might have had some harsh words exchanged before more drinks helped smooth over our frank discussion of differing viewpoints. I had to explain American health care to some people from the UK who were surprisingly gung-ho about the idea of privatized medicine until they talked to me (one of them talked about how the UK used to be an Empire and could be again in such a way that made me want to throw things. We did not talk for very long because I couldn’t fuckin’ handle it). These were strangers that I willingly engaged, because I was having an adventure, and I guarantee none of this would have happened if I hadn’t been going to the gym and committed to the idea of proving the voice in my head that tells me I’m an awkward mess that nobody would ever want to talk to in their life wrong (also, let’s be honest, if I hadn’t had several pints of cider at the time). 

By the end of the trip if I heard one more pub singer’s version of Whisky in the Jar though, that I was gonna produce my pistol and fucking shoot myself in the head.

Go to Ireland if you can. If you live there, fuck you how dare you live somewhere that rad.

8. I didn’t have an eighth thing but I’m committed to this “each thing is numbered” bit which means that even the end of this thing has to follow the trope. This is the end of the post where I say “okay bye I’ll be back the next time I get the urge to throw a bunch of highly unpolished ideas out.” 

[iamthefate]

Do you believe in zodiac symbols?

ARE ZODIAC SIGNS-SYMBOLS WORTH THE WHOLE FUZZ ABOUT THEM? IF YOU HAVE SOME TIME TO SPARE READ THIS PLEASE:)))

I am extremely happy that a question like this was asked to me. Well about zodiac symbols my answer will be quite simple, a huge and clearly written with capital letters NO. Now before you rush into conclusions and tell me that I am extremely biased and astrologists are scientists that know what they are doing and it is a pretty serious job to be an astrologist and all those things, let me explain the reasons or maybe the history of zodiac signs, why they could not be real at all and then judge by yourselves if I am biased or not... So lets see if you guys the zodiac lovers are quite familiar with the following things....

Lets start from scratch, what are the zodiac signs, are the zodiac signs for real the future tellers and are those 12 signs the beginning ans end of our character?

Well the zodiac signs were first discovered in ancient Babylon and their main form was first introduced years later from a mathematician astronomist and astrologist from Greece and Roman Empire, Claudius Ptolemy. He was the one that gave flesh and bones to what we know today as the 12 zodiac signs.

So this is the brief history of the creation of those 12 zodiac signs but what are they? We hear a lot of things about them but never actually questioned ourselves what is the meaning of being the one sign or the other sign. So what are those 12 signs, simple... Because of the fact that all the planets including earth and even our star are moving as celestial spheres in a very specific layer-kinda like an orbit in the sky, the constellations that are found over this layer did take a lot of significance back then and they gave them names and value, those 12 constellations are the 12 zodiac signs we have till today.

So now that we now what are the zodiac signs, we can see why the predictions based on them characterwise and futurewise are a big pile of lies.

1)The outdated geocentric model of Claudius Ptolemy

As we said all the 12 different zodiac signs that Ptolemy introduced were based on the movement of the planets and of our star, the sun. Well thats how he observed those 12 constellations and after observing them he actually did create a theory about them and the solar system. Well this is where it gets complicated, cause the geocentric system used back then is completely outdated, back then they believed that the earth was in the middle of the known universe and it was immobile, also they believed that there were 7 other planets that were encircling the earth, those were: Saturn, Venus, Jupiter, Mercury, Mars and the last 2 were Sun and Moon. Of course now we know that Sun and moon are not planets, Sun is the star of our solar system and Moon is Earth's satellite, and of course all the other 5 planets are not encircling earth but all the planets of our solar system are encircling our star The Sun and the satellites of each planet are encircling their planet. Thus, the astrologists of that time in ancient Babylon based on the outdated geocentric planet model were shocked especially by one event, the so called ''The Retrogade Motion'' of the planets. They were so shocked by this movement of the planets that actually linked it with many bad things that happened to people. So what is this wicked movement? Why all the astrologists back then were affraid of this? Well nowadays this is so simple to answer that it wont shock even a kid in the kindergarden. The retrogade motion was considered a movement that was made by some planets and what retrogade means, it basically is a movement backwards. So they were affraid by this movement backwards cause they couldnt explain it. Why couldnt they explain it? So simple again, the outdated geocentric model of the solar system back then considered earth immobile in the centre of the universe but that is not true. Earth is moving just like every other planet around the sun and the speed of that movement differs from planet to planet. So this retrogade motion, this movement backwards is a simple overtaking from one planet to another due to the different rotation movement. And I can ensure you there is nothing to be affraid about that, but as the greatest minds say, everything you cant explain you can for sure be affraid of it,just like the god and the devil. Of course the astrologists of today keep believing that this movement is the beginning of all evil. So if you and your friend run and you overtake your friend then your friend is the beggining of all evil, hahah nonsense.

2)The number of the planets

Till 1781, which is basically 90% of astrology's total number of predictions since its birth, the people knew the existence of less planets than what we know today.(and of course as we said they confused sun and moon for planets). So till 1781, they knew 6 planets and of course they had given them many characteristics based on Ptolemy's notes and the Babylonian tradition, both of which are wrong based on number 1 I mentioned before,but we are far from over. The three planets that they didnt know were the following, Pluto, Uranus and Neptune. They had to find new characteristics to give to them and of course they had no idea what to do, so they waited. What were they waiting? Of course again the astronomists to find out the names that they were going to give them, because back then when the three planets were first discovered they were nameless. So after scientists gave them a name the astrologists came and they gave them characteristics, Pluto the planet of Life death and rebirth like ancient greek god Pluto, then Uranus Independence and Rebellion just like the god Uranus and the same logic was applied for Neptune. So to sum it all up, till 1781 they didnt know all the planets so 90% of the predictions are lacking information and are full of lies to cover it and the three planets were not given characteristics according to the observations but according to some random names that the astronomists gave first. If they had different names the would have taken different characteristics...well as random as it can get.Oh by the way in the recent years there are another two planets that were discovered by the astronomists..planets Eris and Haumea, so this 90% is more like 100%.

3)The shift of the axis of the earth

Have you ever wondered why you have the zodiac sign that you have? Why are you a gemini if you are born in July 13th or a leo if you are born August 14th? Simple again, this is determined by observing in the day of your birth in which constellation the sun rises. Now lets look the mathemarics behind it, only the simple stuff.... every constellation as far as the rise of the sun is concerned is far apart 30° from the next one, so every 30° degrees the zodiac sign changes. Well that wouldnt be a problem if the axis of the earth was immobile. But the earth is moving around its axis and every 2150 years it changes its orientation 30°,so are you ready to learn something really cool? All of you that believe in zodiac signs have the previous zodiac sign from the one you believe cause the position of the sun changes comparing it to the position of the earth. Your entire life you think you have a different zodiac sign so all of your predictions are a lie. Of course again astrologists dont even know that so they ll keep on telling you that you have a different zodiac sign from the ones you have hahaha

4)The constellations as uniform entities and arbitary points

Have you ever wondered why do the 12 zodiac signs have a name, and to be more specific why do they have the name of those specific animals? Well again the answer is very simple and again it shows why the predictions are a bunch of lies. The 12 zodiac signs (zoion in ancient greek means animal) were created after people of that era played the game: ''link the dots'' and the did that like the constellations are 2D structures but they are 3D structures that seem like 2D from right here, because we observe them in the sky. So to begin with, those 12 zodiac shapes or those 12 animal shapes are completelly arbitary. Imagine that different astrologists of the same era played the game differently and gave the 12 zodiac symbols names that many times were not even animals but objects. This has to do with the local tradition needs of every era. Oh by the way the constellations which are basically the appearence of the stars of each universe change their position constantly and after many years those symbols are not the same. What Ptolemy used to see in his telescope back then is way different from what we see. Of course astrologists dont have any idea about that and they think that the symbols never actually change.

5)The power that the planets are exerting to a human being is extremely extremelyyyyy insignificant, closee to absolute 0

So why all that fuzz about the planets and what the planets do and how they move and all of that? Its because astrology believes that in a magical way the planets put forces on you that change the way we act. Yeah that is actually right or is it? Newton's universal law of gravitation explains that every mass puts a force on every other mass. Congrats astrologists, lets see now the force that the planet mars, which is the closest planet to planet earth puts on a toddler, a baby that is just born, well according to the math behind the equation, that force is 0.0000000395 N, which is 25000 times less thn the force that puts on you a hair when you hold it in your bare hand. And now if your brain is sharp enough you should make that question to yourself? Yes but mars is a small planet how about the sun which is a giant planet, thousands times bigger than Mars. Well he is so far away that the force that puts on us is a 1.000.000 times weaker than the one of Mars. By the way just for the statistics a mom puts 10 times the force of Mars every time when she holds her baby.Of course the astrologists believe that the power of the planets is soooooo huge when it is basically zero.

6)Earth position is in a constant movement itself

Many times nowadays you hear the astrologists say that they figured out that the constellations and the stars are moving but there are some energy portals that keep opening and closing in the same original positions that Ptolemy discovered, even though the constellations are not there anymore. Well, these imaginary energy portals would be a carreer saver for them if Earth was immobile. The portals, those magical portals may open in the original Ptolemian positions in astrologists' minds(there are good doctors for them haha no worries) but even if those existed and opened there the Earth is no longer there. The earth is moving around the centre of the galaxy and it makes 250.000.000 years to complete a circle and galaxies move in the space oh and the space between the galaxies is dilated, which in simple words means we will never be back to the original Ptolemian positions, not even close to them. So that theory from the astrologists is again another big lie. Sorry asteologists you are frauds....

7)The predictions are so insignificant and so out of the point

Classic example here, two monozygotic twins that were born at the same time in the same place and they have after years way different lifes. They have received the same magical forces but still they are two completely different people. But you think I m going to stop here really?? Hahaha you dont know me at all ladies and gents..... Astrologists seem to know everything, if you re going to earn huge amounts of money, if you re going to find the love of your life, hahahah you think those are big events?? Really?? Not that they can found those but really?? If this is a big event then why couldnt they predict Nagasaki and Hirosima atomic bomb explosions, that killed instantly millions of people or natural disasters like tornados and tsunamis and hurricanes? If astrologists could see the future of every individual they should have seen the same future for an entire town or city weeks before, they should have seen a pandemonium of events.... But nope, these events were never predicted... Not even from one astrologist, never and the new catastrophies will never be predicted in such ways......

8) Huge extented researches have proved that astrologists are frauds and astrology is a big lie

You want researches about this, well ok, the research that Carlson did in 1895 ''a double blind taste in astrology'', published in the scientific magazine ''Nature''. 28 Astrologists from Europe and the USA participated in this research. This research had two phases, in the first phase the astrologists were asked to make the famous astrological charts(information about the character of a person and his/her life are found in this based only on information about the birth of an individual) of many individuals. They had all the information they wanted, the place of birth, the date of birth everything they wanted and they made the astrological charts. Then each individual took 3 astrological charts, his own and another two and he/she had to choose which one was his/hers according to his/her personality. That was the first phase. In the second phase, the experiment was the exact opposite, the astrologists were given one astrological chart of an individual and three different psychological profiles and they had to match the profile to the astrological chart. The two experiments done in the two phases had the same result 1/3 correct and 2/3 incorrect. You think thats a coincidence or its fairly ok? Well thats not a coincidence and thats not ok at all, this result 1/3 correct means statistically that if all the astrologists were normal random people the result would have been the same. In other words they were correct just randomly. 1/3 was the result of every single one of the astrologists and that according to statistics is the definition of randomness.

???? FUN FACT????

Did you know that the zodiac signs are 13, Ophiuchus is the 13th zodiac sign but it wasnt introduced from the beggining so they didnt care to change their entire theory for a 13th Zodiac, oops sorry astrologists.

9)Conclusion

To sum it all up ladies and gents, as Albert Einstein once said ''Two things are infinite in this world, the universe and human's stupidity, well not so sure about the first one''. In other words it is such a shame that a lot of people still believe in astrologists' lies. Astrology was a concept developped 2500 years ago when people didnt know whats beyond the sky and they thought the sky was a god. Believing in remnants of Babylonian Religion like we dont have a mind to think, proves how accurate was Albert Einstein 100 years ago.

~It was a 2 hour effort to create this text in English, special thanks to professor Pavlos Kastanas, a great scientist, an amazing astronomer, that was responsible for the information found in this text.Thanks for those who read it and hope you think twice before trusting something that your zodiac sign tells you.

[thesethingsofours]

Take Your Time

During lockdown, our individual perspectives of time were shaken. If time is subjective, what do we do with it?

© Neal Gruer

Time and space are modes by which we think not conditions in which we live.  — Albert Einstein.

The defining feature of work as a commercial lawyer is not the suit, the intellectual discussion, the clients, the office politics, or the sloshing around of money. It’s something they never show in Suits or The Good Fight: the stopwatch. On every lawyer’s computer, a piece of software (unironically named Carpe Diem) provides rolling timers to be clicked on and off when moving from one task to another. Every moment is accounted for. 

At the end of each day, the minutes and hours are shovelled into a database, where the lawyer writes a detailed narrative for every block of time. The information is then used to build an accurate bill for the clients and to assess how hard each lawyer is working. In an industry where work is charged for by the hour, every minute has an exact, predetermined value; both financially, and how each lawyer is viewed as an employee. Time is quite literally money.

As a lawyer, sometimes, I wished the clock would speed up, desperate for my hours to increase towards my monthly billing target. On other occasions, it whizzed past unstoppably as I strained to meet an imminent deadline or demonstrate my efficiency. Time was rarely a neutral experience. Recording every minute of every day for analysis by my superiors made me extremely sensitive to how I perceived time. Maintaining a balanced temporal mindset in these conditions was a battle; a battle against time — the constantly conspicuous overlord I could never overcome.

Until I did. Sick of stopwatches, after four years I left to follow my passions of photography and writing. Now, when I am freely roaming the streets photographing a new city or pressing pen to paper, I typically lose all concern for time. It still requires my consideration — to finish photographing before nightfall, or ensure I still eat at reasonable intervals in the day — but I am no longer forced to attribute an arbitrary numerical value to it, financial or otherwise. I acknowledge it exists but tend not to think about it. In doing so, my levels of day-to-day contentment have dramatically increased.

In the lockdown spring, this sensitivity towards time was laid bare for all of us — how it passes through us in wildly different ways, how we scrabble for a method to gauge it, and the enormous effect it can have on our emotions. But what can we do about it?

I barely know what day it is.  — Everyone, 2020

Through every lockdown conversation, the above sentiment became a running joke. Days were long, weeks were short, or vice versa. For some, April went extremely quickly, while for others, it felt like an age. In any case, the unifying feature was a sudden discombobulation in the way we perceived time. Under the pandemic’s grasp, our familiar time-markers disintegrated, replaced by an erratic Covid-clock. Outside of Italy, you may have followed how many weeks behind the boot-shaped island your country was from getting a kicking (“Two weeks ’til we reach 1500 deaths a day”). Perhaps your measurement was a lament of absent activities (“This would have been our third day in Istanbul”; “Next Saturday would have been our wedding day”). Alternatively, you may have watched the kilos emerge around your waist like tree rings as you ate yourself towards comfort.

No matter how you compiled your days, the confines of our own, limited perception mean we construct time on the basis of both the individual — how it feels, and the collective — the metronomic hands of the clock. The clock is physics-driven — an objectively agreed approximation of an extremely strenuous concept, variously comprising of the big bang, Einstein, gravity, the speed of light, black holes, entropy, the multiverse and Back to the Future. This idea of time and its relativity to space is difficult to get one’s head around. Perhaps it’s so difficult because arguably, both spiritually and scientifically, time doesn’t exist at all. Instead, there are only sequential events and tangible atomic changes, which we consciously witness and translate into “time”. In that case, “time” is a primitive form of expression — a language for something we have waived our need to fundamentally understand.

Given the challenge of understanding time on that level, most of us simply live based on Earth’s rotation. Other than for a handful of space-travellers, whose time has theoretically bent and slowed, we experience time only as far as it visibly appears in our day-to-day lives: day turns to night, trees grow and shed leaves, skin loosens from taught to wrinkly (unless you’re Rob Lowe). For this reason, we speak of time in the comprehensible terms of three-dimensional, physical space — “the party is after lunch”; “I’ll be there in 10 minutes”. Even then, language and culture have a meaningful effect on how we perceive that spatial construct. Do you characterise time in terms of volume, like the Spaniards (“a full day”); or distance, like the Swedes (“a long day”); or dispense with the linguistic concept entirely, like the Amazonian Amondawa tribe? 

Time as a Feeling

Regardless of our rudimentary attempts to describe time, how it feels remains unique to each of us. Our memories, emotions, habits; body and brain function all play a role in how we perceive it. The feeling of minutes, say, from waiting for a train; hours, from hunger between meals; days, from waking up every morning; months (I daresay) from menstrual cycles; or years, from marking birthdays. In any given moment, a near-innate, biological “pacemaker” and measuring tools honed from our experiences combine to determine how long or short a period of time feels. These sensitive mechanics make our time perception deeply susceptible to external forces:

Time perception, just like vision, is a construction of the brain and is shockingly easy to manipulate experimentally… as subject to illusion as the sense of color is. 

Brain Time, David M Egelman, 2009

To this end, it is well understood that when the brain processes a large amount of information in a short period, such as absorbing a new experience or enduring a traumatic event, we later recall time as having passed more slowly. As children, for whom everything is new, a two-week summer holiday feels endless. For adults, such a break can feel achingly short.

That said, these psychological mechanisms are still subject to each individual’s unique personality and circumstances. For example, loneliness has proved to be a significant factor in slowing people’s sense of time during lockdown, while a greater use of digital devices is likely to have sped it up.

In the latter case, technology disrupts our internal pacemaker and increases our stress levels: if you have an hour to complete a task and it feels like 50 minutes, you’re subconsciously pressurising yourself to do things 20% faster. Even without the ubiquity of digital clocks in the corner of every eye, it stands to reason that our Pavlovian response to bombardment by notifications changes how we digest time. And that’s before you consider how much we outsource memory (a crucial aspect of time perception) to our phones, without understanding the cognitive consequences.

© GlobalWebIndex / Hootsuite / We Are Social

Between Zoom calls, smartphone scrolling, working on a laptop, binging Netflix, repetitive tasks, adaptation to new circumstances and unusual social occurrences, any given lockdown day was liable to speed up or slow down by the hour; further assembling into weeks, which would slip through our fingers or linger indefinitely. Disorientating, yes, but also a valuable reminder that our perception of time is subjective, and therefore something we have a degree of control over.

Take Your Time

While compliance with the clock helps us interact with others and make a living, we should be wary of allowing it too great an influence over how we enjoy or endure our experiences. Frustration from waiting, pressure from deadlines, habitually arriving late or early — all these arise from the way we process time. Finding ways to free yourself from its yoke can be useful, not only in an uncertain era where another challenging lockdown might be just around the corner, but also as we return to more conventional ways of living. A warped perception of time — whether too fast or slow — has been linked to stress, anxiety and depression. Insulating yourself from a fluctuating perception of time serves towards a consistent mental state.

In practical terms, it helps to do any fulfilling or challenging activity with no incantation of time attached: distance yourself from technology, wander aimlessly outdoors, read from a page rather than a screen, thin out your schedule, study something new, write down your thoughts. When you cannot control your activities, mindfulness has been shown to help. Focussing on the present moment hypothetically minimises stimulation of your internal pacemaker; slowing your sense of time and allowing you to relax into whatever you find yourself doing.

Whatever your circumstances or interests, the key is to take your time, to the fullest extent possible. Take life at your own pace, whatever that might be. Avoid the agitation of scoring life based on time achieved or missed. Wind your own clock and be sensitive to what makes it tick. As an ex-stopwatch jockey, I attest to its benefits.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

When Words Fail (Rey x Reader)

Summary: Rey is finding it hard to tell a girl she has feelings for. But actions speak louder than words, right? All she needs is a push in the right direction. 

AN: You know the hardest part of writing lesbian fics? The fact that they both have her/she pronouns and you don’t want to refer to one as “the brunette” because the reader might be a brunette so it’s like ??? I’m probably going to do a part two of this because it’s really cute. This is a day early because it was requested by @leavelukealone2k17 who is my cousin and it's her birthday today. Happy Birthday, my love!

Masterlist

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 “Hey Jess, not much damage this time, I hope,” Y/N greeted her best friend - Jessika Pava, trusted member of Black Squadron - who was climbing out of the cockpit. The mission had been a total success, no one had died and there wasn’t another mission for a few days. Things were looking up for the Resistance.

 “Oh, nothing too serious,” Jessika joked, removing her helmet, “Just the usual damage from debris and a possible burnt out circuit board.”

 Y/N grinned, “The usual then.” She removed the panel protecting the raw parts of the engine. She was right – absolutely nothing serious. Securing her tool-belt on her waist, Y/N began her routine checks for anything else awry with the T-70 X-Wing.

 Meanwhile, Jessika went over to check with Poe. The mission had been a little rough around the edges and she wanted to check on her other best friend. He was currently talking Temmin Wexley; both men were leaning on Wexley’s own X-Wing like they were applying for the Resistance’s Next Top Model.

 Spying Jessika watching them, Poe excused himself.

 “Hey, Jess. How you doing?” He greeted with a dashing smile.

 “I’m good, my X-Wing’s less good,” Jess cut to the chase, “I need a favour. You know Y/N?”

 “Yeah, cute mechanic over there, what about her?”

 “Ok, she told me she has always wanted to learn how to fly, to be a pilot and I was thinking-”

 “You want me to teach her?”

 “No,” Jess glared at Poe for interrupting her.

 “Why don’t you teach her then?”

 “Well, I only found out a week ago. Besides,” Jessika leant closer so Poe could hear her hushed voice, “I think she would prefer a different teacher.”

 “Ok, who?”

 “A certain pilot who is new on base and is good friends with your droid?”

 “Khyas?” Poe said not catching on, “I mean he fixes Bee alright but I wouldn’t say they're friends.”

 Poe’s brain was clearly fried from the mission and his talk with Finn over comms on the way home so it took a while for him to load. Sighing, Jessika placed a hand atop his curls and rotated his head to where Rey was kneeling before BB8.

 “Ahh. In that case, I’ll pass bi later and let you know,” Poe grinned and Jessika groaned as she realised he’d sneaked another pun into his dialogue.

 “Oh, that was a bad one.”

 “I’ll see you later, Jess. Nice work today.”

 “Bi then,” Jessika emphasised, watching Poe began to walk away then a few seconds later freeze and turn back round with an expression of resignation. A mass juxtaposition to Jessika’s expression of delight.

 “Oh, you…” Words failing him, Poe turned again to get BB8 alone and clue him in his plan.

 BB8 had gone along with the plan, subtly dropping into conversation that Y/N wanted to become a pilot but had settled of the role of mechanic to work the magic of the X-Wing behind the scenes. Rey’s wistful looks now filled with hope; she strided over to Y/N who was coated in oil and patting down her grimy overalls.

 “You want to know how to fly,” Rey said bluntly. She meant it as a question but the tone in her voice made it sound more like an accusation.

 Y/N was caught out with this question, only managing to answer with an unintelligent “uh”. Rey had never spoke to her before. She was pretty intimidating and intimidatingly pretty with unparalleled hand-to-hand combat skills using the staff she was currently gripping. It was unconsciously threatening.

 “Meet me after lunch. Zachary will relieve you and I will teach you how to fly.”

 “Really?” Y/N’s face lit with a dopey smile and Rey gave a small one in return.

 “Yes. I’ll see you then.” And she strode away, tensely gripping her staff. Y/N was starstruck, gobsmacked, in awe, any synonym to describe the feeling of overwhelming shock combined with happiness. After swaying on her feet, she power-walked back to the base to go have a shower - or two judging by the smell of her overalls.

 Rey stood tapping her foot nervously as she waited by the cafeteria. BB8 had given her some advice – not very good advice. So she made sure that she was going to do the opposite of what he said. Finn had offered some piece of mind to her - specifically about hygiene - which she followed to the letter. She was showered and didn’t have the emotional crutch of her staff with her. The one piece of advice she didn't get was thinking of topics of conversation. She was going to be teaching, not talking.

 Hearing a cough, Rey ceased her tapping. Now squeaky clean in a fresh shirt and black slacks, Y/N had their hands clasped in front of them and was playing with their fingers – a nervous habit.

 “Ready?” She asked anxiously.

 “Yes,” Rey nodded before heading towards the exterior side of the base with Y/N beside her. They walked in silence, unsure of what to say to one another. As they headed outside, Y/N spied Chewbacca standing next to his ship. Rey was striding towards it and with no other destination in that direction, Y/N put two and two together.

 She gasped “We’re going in the Millennium Falcon?”

 “Yes,” Rey said as if it were obvious as she continued to keep walking towards Chewbacca. Y/N held back as he growled at Rey- she was just a tad intimidated by the Wookie. He was apparently concerned about the well-being of his ship.

 “It’s ok, Chewie. She’s not replacing you,” Rey assured with a smile, clearly unafraid of the seven foot tall shag rug with a bowcaster whilst also praying Y/N didn’t hear her. She waved said person over and said goodbye to her co-pilot.

 Out of respect for Chewbacca, Y/N gave a wave and a nod for thanks. Chewbacca growled back, ending with something that sounded like a yawn, before heading towards the base.

 “He says he trusts you,” Rey clarified as they entered.

 “Uh-huh,” Y/N tried not to gawk at the ship. It was messy with wires running below the grates and into the antique panels. Toggles and switches lined the walls with screens emitting a low blue glow. The smuggler’s ship was so much grottier up close. It was amazing.

 “Uh, won’t we attract attention with this particular ship?”

 “We aren’t going to leave Yavin 4’s atmosphere,” Rey plonked herself in the pilot’s chair, already comfortable with the environment. Y/N tentatively took a seat beside her, aware that Wookie hair in the chair would be stuck to her clothes for the rest of the day.

 “Right, how do I start?”

 Since the Resistance were having a slow time after Black Squadron’s last mission, Rey used her free time to teach Y/N how to fly the Falcon. Since she had pre-existing knowledge about how the spacecraft functioned, she was already pretty good.

 The two women had gotten more comfortable with one another, learning their quirks and methods of learning and teaching. Rey was never really one for conversation so Y/N had gone off her body language instead, which became easier to read as she became more unperturbed around her. It had taken a while; Rey seemed to constantly be in the “fight” option of her “fight or flight” mode.

 Contrary to popular belief, Rey wasn’t one for silence. She liked talking, it was just really hard to do. So many topics of conversation and yet so little and none of them ever seemed to go as planned. Still, Y/N had her at ease. Rey knew she wouldn’t judge her for being unsure with communication such as small talk.

 After some contemplation, she decided to ake it for a test flight:

 “So, why did you want to be a pilot?”

 Sending what she hoped was a reassuring smile, Y/N leant back in her chair, “I just really wanted to when I was a kid and it stuck with me.”

 “Anyone in your family a pilot?” Rey pressed, knowing Poe’s “tragic back-story” and motivation was his mother’s life as a Resistance pilot from Finn.

 “No,” Y/N said casually, “I just like the idea and the feeling. It’s nice.” Then she had an outburst of laughter.

 “What?” Rey asked with a small yet confused smile.

 ““It’s nice” makes it seem like a casual hobby, not fighting the Empire.”

 “Oh,” Rey said, internally slapping herself for sounding so uninterested. Quite the opposite; she could not be more interested in anything Y/N was saying with her sweet voice and delightful laugh.

 “The great pleasure and feeling in my right brain is more than my left brain can find the words to tell you,” Y/N quoted, “Can’t remember who said that but it was in a book I read a while ago.”

 “Uh, why didn’t you become a pilot then?”

 Y/N shrugged, a little wistful, “The Resistance needed mechanics more. I love my job, don’t get me wrong. Flying just always appealed to me.”

 Rey turned back to the controls, happy with her successful small talk. Y/N was pleased too; while she did crave more interaction, she didn’t push it. Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at Rey who had taken over control and was concentrating hard. Her face was scrunched up into a pout with effort. Her eyes were focused. A strand of hair had escaped from one of her three buns and Y/N felt the urge to tuck it behind her ear.

 Shaking the thought from her head, Y/N cursed herself for being so inappropriate. Rey was taking the time to teach her how to fly. Rey was her friend; she didn’t want that.

 The Falcon gently touched down and the platform from the undercarriage lowered for the two women to exit. Chewbacca wasn’t there this time, having grown accustomed to them going out for flying lessons.

 “You’re getting good,” Rey said slowly, choosing her words with care as they stepped down the platform. She wanted to get it right.

 “Thank you, Rey, so much,” Y/N smiled then stopped. Rey stopped with her, though she wasn’t sure why she was hanging back.

 Y/n’s fingers were twitching as she debated over what she was about to do. Then she stepped forward and hugged Rey before she could change her mind. Her skin was soft in spite of her time on Jakku and the hairs that had fallen from her buns tickled her neck, sending a shiver down her spine that she managed to suppress.

 Rey hesitantly hugged Y/N. She smelt of soap and fresh linen as opposed to the grease and fumes of her overalls. With one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist, Rey felt warm inside; she felt safe in Y/N’s arms and she didn’t want to let go. Instinctively, she pulled her tighter, burying her head into her shoulder.

 “You’re welcome,” She said softly. Rey was a multi-linguist but she couldn’t find the words to describe how she felt.

 A series of beeps and whistles emitted from their feet and suddenly, Y/N felt her knees buckle from underneath her from an electric shock. Instantly, Rey reached out and pulled her by the waist to steady her. Burning bright red with embarrassment, Y/N realised she was holding onto Rey’s hand, as if she was being dipped amidst a slow dance.

 Chirping peacefully, BB8 rolled away from the pair with an added whistle of smug achievement at Jessika and Poe who were hiding behind some crates to watch the ongoing scene. They glared snarkely at BB8 and decided to leave the two women alone. Besides, Jess would hear from Y/N and Poe would hear from Finn who would hear from Rey.

 Slowly, Y/N steadied herself and Rey dropped her hand from her waist, her cheeks dusted with pink.

 “Sorry about them,” She apologised, “BB8 is a bit of a rascal.”

 “It’s ok… You’re still holding my hand,” Y/N replied. Rey looked down to see that she was, her eyes wide with apprehension.

 “It’s nice,” Y/N said before Rey could take it away. She started to rub her thumb across Rey’s dorsal side and the ex-scavenger found herself to be smiling again.

 “Roger Sperry,” Y/N said suddenly, breaking eye contact to nod her head in understanding.

 Rey’s eyebrows furrowed adorably in bemusement, “What?”

 “The great pleasure and feeling in my right brain is more than my left brain can find the words to tell you; Roger Sperry said it,” Y/N explained, her quote fading as she turned red with embarrassment, the final words barely a whisper. How ironic that those words would come back to haunt her in the best way.

“I think I know the feeling,” said Rey, gently squeezing Y/N’s hand. A wave of calm washed over them in response and they beamed shyly at each other.

 “Me too.”

AN: I love my two bi kids Jess and Poe and their stupid bi puns. I’m not too savvy with the Star Wars canon so I made this as accurate as I could without having to sift through all the Wookiepedia pages.