#hope no coworkers accidentally follow my blog and find me but also fuck you personally if you spread germs at work and COULD stay home

[soryualeksi]

Huge shout-out to my colleague, who I was locked into one car for several hours a few days ago, for coming in sick as a dog to work and not because anything like "out of sick days" but because "I have fun stuff planned for the weekend and I would feel kinda bad calling in sick and then being well on the weekend again", which. Arguably noble(???) but absolutely senseless.

So shout-out: If the reason I can't hear from my ears being stuffed and swollen is because YOU COUGHED YOUR DISGUSTING THROAT GERMS ONTO ME ALL DAY, I will come to your home and kick your ass.

Don't be an ass. If you're sick and CAN stay home then DO stay home instead of infecting all your coworkers.

Also if you LIED to me and everyone and didn't actually thoroughly test yourself that it isn't Covid, I WILL tell that to our bosses, all of them.

[muertawrites]

The Lovers of Ba Sing Se - Part 1 (Zuko x Reader) [Modern Au]

Summary: Zuko isn’t used to being around people who aren’t afraid to share their every emotion. Meeting you during his time in Ba Sing Se changes that, and changes him for the better.

Word Count: 4,000

Author’s Note: Lmao the only person I’m writing this for is myself. Sorry not sorry. I usually try really hard to keep specifics to a minimum in my self-insert works, but this time I didn’t; I wrote about myself because, honestly, this fic is my love letter to me. I relate to Zuko so much and a huge part of the reason I love him is because he reminds me of myself - this fic is about me learning to love myself again after the people I loved and trusted most betrayed me, and saying a gigantic “fuck you” everyone who ever did anything to destroy my self worth. Part 2 is when I finally live out my fantasy of curb stomping Mai - tomorrow, same bat-time, same bat-channel. 

Also, shameless plug, but I’m about 100 followers away from 1k, and I have some really fun stuff planned for when we get there so if you like this fic or any of my others, please follow! I love doing this and my goal is to devote as much effort as possible to it as I can, and I truly wouldn’t be able to do it without your support. Thank you so much for all of it. I’m so excited for the future of this blog and everyone who makes it possible ♥

~ Muerta

Of all the things Zuko thought might kill him, falling dishware was the last thing he would have ever considered a possibility.

He was sitting in the alley behind the Jasmine Dragon, making the most of his smoke break, when a ceramic cooking pot rained onto the pavement in front of him, shattering into trillions of pieces. Startled, he jumped back, dropping his cigarette as he craned his neck upwards; he spotted a head of brightly dyed hair staring down at him from the third floor balcony above.

“Oh shit,” you cried.

Within a minute, you burst through the back door of the neighboring building, panting and looking just as terrified as the young man you'd almost killed. Zuko stared at you, mouth slightly agape.

“Oh my god I'm so sorry,” you gushed. “Are you okay?? I didn't see you standing there, oh my god, oh my fucking god please tell me you're okay.”

Zuko was taken aback, unable to do anything for a moment but gaze at you in confusion, almost wonder. People in the Fire Nation were never this publicly expressive, even when barely avoiding manslaughter - he didn't quite know what to do with you, other than mutter that he was alright.

“I'm so, so sorry,” you blurted again. “You're sure you're okay? You don't have any glass on you or anything? Or need to be treated for shock?”

“No, I'm fine,” Zuko flatly replied. He nodded towards the trash bins across the alley. “You do know your building has those, though. You don't need to throw your old stuff off your balcony.”

You blushed, smiling sheepishly.

“It wasn't old,” you confessed. “It was a birthday gift from my best friend. Well… ex-best friend.”

Zuko huffed, pulling another cigarette from the pocket of his jeans and lighting it, looking down at his hands.

“Never had a breakup, huh?” he guessed.

“Oh, I've had plenty,” you told him. “They just don't get any easier.”

Zuko looked up at you, taking a long drag from his smoke. Your eyes were cast into the middle of the alley, settled on the shards of what once had been a reasonably nice piece of cookware. The shock and terror had faded from your expression, falling into one that was pained, anger and despair shadowing your features; you may as well have roundhouse kicked him in the chest, the look on your face mirroring the ache between his ribs. You hadn't revealed anything to him, but he knew instantly that your pain was the same as his.

He slid another cigarette from the box, offering it to you. You shook your head, lowering yourself onto the back stoop of the Jasmine Dragon; he found himself doing the same without thinking.

“I'm sorry about your pot,” he said, clumsily attempting to lighten the atmosphere. “It looked nice.”

You smiled faintly, pulling your knees to your chest and letting your chin rest atop them.

“I don't cook much, so it wasn't a huge loss,” you replied. “It was kind of cathartic, actually. I feel better.”

Zuko chuckled, tapping a bit of ash onto the ground between his feet.

“Good. Maybe feeling better will keep you from accidentally killing someone.”

You laughed, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Have I mentioned I'm sorry about that?” you winced.

“Hey, no sweat,” Zuko assured you. “It's not the first time. I've had people try to kill me on purpose before.”

He stood, stubbing out his half-smoked cigarette and pocketing it. He offered a hand to help you up, which you took, finding comfort in the strength of his palm as it wrapped around your forearm.

“I've gotta get back to work,” he told you. “You don't have any other gifts from your ex-best friend laying around, do you?”

You giggled, shaking your head.

“No,” you promised, “just that one. Thank you. For not threatening to press charges.”

Zuko laughed, realizing he was doing so for the first time in what had probably been years. The light feeling in his chest got even lighter when he noticed he was still holding your arm.

“Will I see you around?” he asked, the words escaping before they were even fully formed in his head.

You nodded, finally letting go of his hand.

“Yeah,” you said. “I'll see you around …?”

“Lee,” he told you. “I'm Lee.”

You smiled.

“Cool. I'll see you around, Lee.”

You saw Lee again a few days later, but not in a way you really wanted to. You were at work, standing outside the bar on the district high street with a coworker, attempting to attract some business during the weeknight lull; Lee spotted you while on his way to the nearby market, seeing you from a block or two away but doing his best to approach you as if he was bumping into you completely by accident.

Of course, this would be perfectly normal and not at all a weird way to run into a new acquaintance, if only the bar you worked in wasn’t catered towards men with a lolita fetish. You were dressed head to toe in pink and white, corseted in a risque bustier and frocked with a poofy, frilly mini skirt that was purposely too short, revealing the bum of your equally as ruffled panties; when you turned around and came face to face with the cute guy from the tea shop next door, you hoped someone would throw a cooking pot on top of you, death seeming like a much better option than attempting to explain yourself to someone who’d already had the privilege of meeting you during an emotional breakdown.

Lee blushed as pink as your costume, smiling coyly.

“We did say we’d see each other around,” he greeted you.

You grinned, relaxing a little.

“You’re not here to have a drink, are you?” you teased him. He laughed, his face turning redder as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“No,” he assured you, “I’m actually on my way to get some groceries. Figured I’d say hey.”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, “My break is in about fifteen minutes! If you don’t mind waiting I could go with you? I’ll buy you dinner to make up for almost killing you the other day.”

Lee chuckled, nodding.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind that,” he agreed. “... I don’t have to wait inside though, do I?”

“I mean, my boss would like it,” you told him, “but it’s so dead in there I don’t think she’d let you leave if you did.”

“Noted,” Lee replied. “I’ll wait in the coffee shop across the street, then.”

Not long after, you tossed a hoodie and a pair of jeans over your bustier and undies, meeting him outside the cafe he was stationed at and making your way to the market. You bustled alongside each other in a fray of other people, rubbing shoulders or hips as you were jostled along with the current.

“So,” Lee blurted, attempting to break the silence between you (although it wasn’t nearly as awkward as it probably should have been), “how’d you end up working in a fetish bar?”

Your simpered, cheeks going ever so slightly rosy.

“How do you think?” you jabbed sarcastically. “I needed money and they pay really well. It’s nice knowing I’ll be able to afford rent every month. What about you? How’d you end up at the tea shop?”

“My uncle owns it,” Lee explained. “We’re the only family we have left, so… we stick together.”

You nodded, understanding and not pushing the question any further.

“It’s not so bad,” he went on. “At least I don’t have to wear pigtails to work.”

You huffed with laughter, leaning over so that your shoulder purposely, playfully shoved his.

“Honestly, my job isn’t awful,” you admitted. “My coworkers are cool, and my boss is really kind. It’s also pretty fun getting to dress up in costume every day; it's like Halloween, except I get to do it whenever I want to.”

Suddenly, you paused, gasping.

“Look!”

You grabbed hold of his arm, startling him a bit but too excited to care. You pointed towards a nearby stand, in which an elderly man was frying pieces of dough. He twisted each in an elaborate knot, every order getting a different design. They were like miniature sculptures, too ornate to even think about eating, but the smell of rich spices and molten sugar was too tempting to ignore.

“I love this stand!” you cried. “He isn't always here, but I get something every time he is. Come on, I'll get us some to split!”

With your hand still curled around his elbow, you dragged Lee through the market throng. As he watched you order, making friendly conversation with the old man, he found himself feeling perplexed; he'd never met someone so comfortable with their emotions, so willing to let every part of them be seen. He wondered how you got so fearless, or if you even had to put effort into being so candid.

He found himself thinking about Mai, how cold and empty she was. He was reminded of the chill he felt around her, the bitter sting she often left in his chest, even during tender moments. Being around you was different; even having just met you, you made him feel invigorated but at ease, the tension in his muscles loosening naturally just from the energy of your presence. It was strange, but refreshing - he found himself grinning along with you as you left the stand, finding a place to sit and enjoy your pastry.

“I got us one with curry, and one with cream filling,” you told him, ripping each serving in half to share. “This guy is an artist, I swear. You're not going to be the same person after this.”

You looked up as you took a bite of the savory half of your meal, halting when you noticed the strange look Lee was giving you.

“What?” you asked him.

He shrugged, fixing his eyes on the pastry in his hand.

“You're just different,” he answered. “Where I'm from, people aren't open like you are. You're really… yourself. It's nice.”

You smiled, unable to help but blush. Bubbles fizzed in your chest, making you feel lightheaded and giddy.

“I think it's because so many people told me not to be when I was a kid,” you mused. “They tried to make me hide the parts of myself I really liked, so I made them show even more, just to show them that they couldn't change me. That I was stronger than their cruelty.”

Zuko felt as if he'd been hit by lightning. He didn't know what it was, but something about you terrified him - it was the same thing that made him want to latch onto you and not let go. Despite having met you just days ago, he already felt as if he'd known you a lifetime - unbeknownst to him, you felt exactly the same way.

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow night?” he asked, stuttering the words.

“Yeah,” you replied, so excited you felt like shrieking so the whole market could hear. “I have the day off tomorrow. Think your uncle would let you swing that?”

“Yeah,” Lee assured you. “I think he would.”

You finished your meal together, sharing your favorite things about the neighborhood you lived in and simply enjoying each other’s company, as comfortable as if you were old friends. Instead of parting with you, Lee walked you back to the bar at the end of your break, stating that it was no trouble going back to the market to get the groceries he skipped to spend time with you.

When he left, you hugged him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt as if you'd truly made a friend.

On your date the next day, Lee took you to the local art museum - he remembered you expressing an interest in art history, and per his uncle’s suggestion, decided it would be the perfect place to take you. He loved seeing the awe on your face when met with a piece that captivated you, was drawn in by the impassioned way you spoke about cultures and myths from ages so long passed they felt as if they came from different worlds entirely. You spent the whole day together, ending the evening crashed on your couch with a pizza and a marathon of true crime documentaries.

From that day onward, you and Lee were connected at the hip. You spent every available moment you had either in the alley behind your building with him or having a cup of tea at the Jasmine Dragon, often staying long after closing with him and his uncle, Mushi, and feeling as if you'd finally found a family in your adopted city.

You learned that Lee was a skilled martial artist, asking him to teach you a little of what he knew and amazed at just how good he really was. He moved more like a dancer than a fighter, his comfort and ability with his body and a weapon captivating you. You learned that he also had an affinity for theater and had grown up completely cut off from modern music and pop culture, spending many of your nights together at local play houses and bars, introducing him to your favorite bands and shows. He learned that you were fascinated by literature and history - anything that had significant, profound meaning and beauty - and often found himself wandering museums and historic neighborhoods with you, loving nothing more than to listen to you talk about what inspired you. You also made him laugh, your sense of humor at times dark, but set into a personality that saw the world with childlike wonder, able to find immense beauty and value in things that seemed frivolous to the naked eye. You were kind, unwavering - everything his family and past lover weren't.

Zuko loved being around you because of how free you made him feel. The unbridled way you expressed your emotions encouraged him to face his own, following your lead in being unafraid of just how intensely the heart within his chest was prone to beat. You loved being with him because he made you feel safe, never judging you for anything and understanding the trauma of your past in a way nobody else had done before. You opened up to him about how the ones you loved did you the most harm, never giving themselves as fully to you as you did them, treating you as a means to take out their own pain and insecurities and convincing you that that was just the way love worked. Eventually, he confided in you the truth about his identity, confessing the horrors he fled in coming to Ba Sing Se. You never once blamed him for anything he'd done, knowing exactly what it felt like to have to read between the lines and give everything for those who gave you little in return. You fit together easily, never having to guess what the other was thinking; for once you both felt content, secure in the safety of your heart within the other’s hands.

One of your favorite places to go with Zuko was a cat cafe a few blocks over from where you worked, spending many a slow weekday off shift with fresh lattes, croissants, and cuddles from friendly, adoptable kitties. At first, Zuko was unsure, having never spent much time with cats, but after one visit he was enamored, gushing to you every single time you went how badly he wanted a cat and spouting multiple reasons why you should adopt one together. On a free Wednesday afternoon he showed up at your apartment unannounced (as he had made a habit of doing) and suggested you go together, an invitation you were more than happy to accept.

As you left the cafe, a couple walking on the other side of the street caught your eye - the man who stood nearest to you was horrifyingly familiar. You recognized him immediately, the shock of his sudden appearance shattering and hollowing out your insides.

It was your ex boyfriend, the man who broke your heart so far beyond repair, walking hand in hand with someone else.

“Zuko,” you mumbled, not even noticing that you used his real name in public, “I want to go home.”

Zuko furrowed his brow, taking you by the shoulders and gently turning you to face him, concerned with the sudden shift in your tone.

“What's wrong?” he asked softly.

All you could do was shake your head. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you to the nearby subway station and back to your apartment.

Once safe inside the confines of your home, you changed into a baggy sweater and the softest sweatpants you owned, curling up under the kotatsu in your living room with Zuko, arms wrapped tight around his waist as you drifted in the tide of blood that poured from your newly reopened wounds. He didn't have to ask what you'd seen - he could tell from the vacant, glassy look in your eyes exactly which ghost haunted you.

“I can't believe he'd be with someone else,” you whimpered. “After everything he did to me… always giving me mixed signals and never telling me exactly how he felt… how could he be able to do it with another person? What was so wrong about me that he hid all of it from me, when all I needed was to hear it?”

You sniffed as Zuko pressed a thumb to your cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen. He hugged you tightly, pressing you close as if to remind you that he was there - he was your present, and there was nothing your past could do to harm you.

“There's nothing wrong with you,” he promised. “He's taken enough from you. Don't give him any more.”

For a long while, you sat together in silence, cradled in Zuko’s arms while he rocked you slowly back and forth, the tenderness of his touch sucking the poison from your veins. After what felt like ages, he finally spoke, giving you the piece of his past he'd been too heartbroken to offer until that moment.

“My girlfriend, Mai,” he told you, “she was like him. Everything she felt, she forced herself not to. We were together for a long time, but… I never really felt like she actually cared for me. If she did, she never let me see it. I gave her everything for nothing.”

“Why did you stay with her?” you wondered, voice meek and quivering with tears.

Zuko sighed, letting his chin fall so he could bury his face in your hair.

“Because she was the first person who ever accepted what I offered her,” he explained. “I was so used to everything I did being unwanted, it was just nice to not be pushed away for once. But she didn't love me like I needed it. I wish I was strong enough to see that and walk away, like you did.”

You propped yourself upright, leveling yourself so you could look him in the eye. You rested your hands at either side of his neck, your thumbs grazing delicately over his hot skin as you hooked your legs around his hips, your body nestled in the gap between his crossed legs.

“Zuko,” you breathed, “I love you. Those aren't even the right words to tell you how I feel about you, but it's the closest I have. You're so passionate and kind, and you love so fiercely… I truly don't know how to tell you how beautiful I think you are, or how much you mean to me. You deserve so much more than how the people you loved have treated you.”

Zuko curled his arms around your back, pressing his chest to yours and burying his face in the crook of your neck, embracing you as closely as he'd ever done. Tears soaked the collar of your sweater, and in return you cried into the exposed skin revealed by his t-shirt as you tugged on the fabric, gripping him as if letting go meant losing him forever.

“I love you, too,” Zuko murmured. “You make me feel strong enough to show it.”

When Zuko left Ba Sing Se, it crushed you. You were furious, at first unable to understand why he'd throw everything away to return to the place and the people that destroyed so much of him. Most of all, you missed him like mad - you missed how easy it was being with him, how you understood each other as if you were another part of yourselves. You missed his laughter and his warmth, the side of your mattress he often slept in feeling colder than ever without him there.

You were relieved when Mushi - who you now knew to be the infamously disgraced General Iroh - returned, showing up at your door out of the blue with tea and baked goods from the shop. You hugged him tightly, crying like a child as he settled you at your table and told you about his escape from prison, as well as his conversations with Zuko the few times he'd visited him. Your heart ached, but it finally felt clear just how lost and confused he was; you were still angry, but you knew you could forgive him.

“His heart is lost,” Iroh explained, “but because of you, he knows how to listen to it.”

For the next month and a half, you took Zuko’s place at the Jasmine Dragon, spending your days off helping Iroh wherever he needed you. He became as much a part of you as his nephew did, and started to consider you as much a daughter as he did Zuko a son. Iroh’s presence soothed the burns left on your soul not only by those you loved, but by your own ferocity towards them.

Everything changed again the morning you woke to and find that Zuko had left the Fire Nation a third time, his face plastered across the news as a missing person with a bounty on his head. You knew based on everything Iroh told you what he planned to do, and immediately set to packing your bags. Travel into and out of the Fire Nation was difficult, but a few of your coworkers had connections to smugglers in the seedier parts of the district - they’d be able to get you onto a ship or a plane that could get you where you needed to go.

Before you left, you went to the Jasmine Dragon and told Iroh of your plans, asking him to keep watch over your apartment so that you could return if need be. You expected him to try and stop you - instead he pulled you into a strong, affectionate hug, telling you to be careful and call him whenever you were able.

“Go to him,” he hummed into your ear. “He needs you.”

Later that night, you met a group of other refugees at the docks, piling into the hull of a cargo ship bound for the Fire Nation’s imperial city. For the entirety of the journey, you wore one of Zuko’s necklace’s around your neck - one of the few things he’d kept from his life before his banishment and subsequent disappearance - keeping it tucked under your shirt and pressed to your chest for good luck.

[ Part 2 ]

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[ellstra]

Here’s another fic rec because why the hell not

I posted my first fic rec exactly six months ago, so why not celebrate with another of these? They’re in no particular order (or rather, in the order I read them in, which is very unimportant), please check the ratings and warnings on each of them.

Hey baby, can you bleed like me? by @kyluxtrashpit, 11.5k, E; Kylo is no stranger to being a fuck up, but he never expected to fuck up killing himself. Trapped in a mental health ward with the full belief that there's nothing they can do for him, he finds unexpected solace in his asshole roommate.  Heed the warnings if you get triggered by such topics but oh dear lord, it’s so therapeutic and calming to me? There’s a quite complex, vivid backstory to it and I love it.

Observations on Treachery, In Which The Charge Against Maj. Armitage Hux is Fully Refuted, Written by Himself. by @irisparry, 5.5k, M; The charge against me is a connection with one Luke Skywalker, for the purposes of delivering classified First Order intelligence. My real crime is an amorous connection with his apprentice, for a considerable time while our true identities were concealed.

Major Armitage Hux writes his way out of hell. Hux's hilarious proclamation that he wasn't guilty of selling information to the enemy, because he was busy having sex with Ben. The language alone is wonderful, and Hux's is so spot on convinced of his own brilliance, it's hilarious.

I tell you miserable things after you are asleep by @huxes, 7.5k, T; Hux and Ben are falling apart. Modern AU. They hurt each other so much and yet they keep getting back together, and it's all fucking beautiful. And sad. Not to be read when you're feeling down.

Swipe Right for Slow Burn Regret by @jinxedambitions, 55.5k, WIP, E; Workaholic Hux doesn’t have time for relationships. He barely has time to grade all of his assignments while also ensuring that his students are the highest achieving in the school. When his friend and fellow teacher, Ms. Phasma, suggests he just needs to get laid, he’s skeptical. She decides some no-strings-attached sex is just what he needs, and no better place to find it than the internet. It’s all fine until he accidentally swipes right on Ben “Call me Kylo” Solo, and they’re a match. With more tattoos than teeth and a profile proclaiming him a "seminary dropout," what could possibly go wrong? Hux is certainly going to find out.A romance about awkward dates, bad sex, miscommunication, and finding love despite one’s better judgment. This fic is...messy. They keep trying to have sex, and something always goes wrong. And it’s as frustrating as it is hilarious, but of course there’s the side-dish of them being perfect for each other oh no. A delightful read.

Laeti Vescimur Nos Subacturis by @generallyhuxurious, 69.5k, E; In order to complete his training, Kylo Ren has been absent from the Finalizer for over a year. Hux considers their relationship to have ended as a result of this separation. When he receives his first direct communication from Snoke since the Starkiller debacle, he expects to be informed of Kylo's return and his own impending execution for daring to touch the Supreme Leader apprentice. Sadly, Hux' life is never simple or straightforward. Snoke ships it. Hard. This is a rather lovely fic that I would categorize as a fairy tale with explicit sex, although there's so much more to it. I recommend this fic if you're in need of some good old fluff with a side-dish of humour and a dessert of smut. Best served with a cup of cocoa snuggled in a blanket fort.

Effective Human Copulation: A Perspective by @moonwalkingcrab, 23k, E; Trying to start a new relationship with your hated coworker is hard at the best of times, nevermind when your slightly senile alien boss seems to take it as his personal science project. You've heard of Snoke's fascinating research log, now get ready to hear the story from Kylo and Hux's POV! This is one of the healthiest kyluxes I read, if I may say so. They even go on actual dates, you won't believe it. Truly enjoyable read that works even better if consulted with Snoke's research.

Mr. June by @nerdherderette, 4k, E; A fill for this Kylux hardkinks prompt: The First Order releases an annual spicy pinup calendar featuring stormtroopers, officers, pilots etc. Hux thinks it's stupid until he hears that Ren is going to be featured in it (bonus points if Hux has never seen Kylo without his mask and robes) [excerpt]:A simple loincloth barely covers the outline of his mouth-watering length, his stomach ripples with muscles Hux never knew even existed, and his chest and biceps are deliciously thick.  His hands are enormous and strong—meat hooks that look like they could span Hux’s waist.  A simple gold collar encircles the man’s neck, connected to a thin, gold chain. In short, Mr. June looks like someone who had stepped out of a holoporn, and into Hux’s wet dream. Hot, hilarious and a tad bit cute. I don't want to spoil anything so I won't tell you what the best bit is but trust me, you'll not regret reading this. It has Hux so horny he can't function and there are parts written like a really bad erotica, and I don't know why the cringeworthy words sound so great but they do. A delight. 

Summer by @eralkfang, 2k, E; It still feels like summer outside.Still is summer, technically. But to Hux, summer is home and London and holding himself carefully above the fray, not letting his father’s moods or his mother’s drinking or the people he went to secondary with grab him by the ankle and drag him down. Whereas here, in America, in September, he lets his metaphorical ankles dangle, low enough for American boys to grab at.Although Ben Solo’s the only one who’s managed to grab them and pull him down, like an anchor. Very sweet short College AU smut with nipples and cigarettes and open window and longing. A+ for atmosphere

Ex Machina by sual, 32.5k, E; An AU inspired by Ex Machina where Ben Solo never became Kylo Ren, General Hux is a droid that used to be human, and they might just be what the other needs.Warning for a whole lot of robophilia and cruel and unusual uses for droids. Ben never becomes Kylo, deciding to give his Force training and it's so beautiful. He's friends with Rey and their relationship is so very sweet. And then there's Hux with a marvelous tragic backstory. There’s also a great podfic for it if that’s your thing.

Off Limits by @verybadhedgehog, 4.5k, E; Military man of twinky appearance, previously stereotyped as a bottom, meets annoying xeno-experienced frot evangelist telepath, is persuaded to be less sexually self-denying. Jizz everywhere, job’s a good ‘un.A fill for the Kylux Hard Kinks blog prompt: “For medical reasons Hux can't engage in anal sex but his build always seems to attract guys who expect to fuck him. He's pretty much given up on dating when Kylo is transferred to the Finalizer. Years of interspecies experience has proven to Kylo that there's so much more to sex. Now he just has to bring Hux around to his way of thinking” Hux has given up hope for sex and then Kylo comes and is so considerate and so sweet and so generous. It's about sex, but there's an underlying level of affection and care and it's so beautiful. 

Sunny Side Up by @longstoryshortikilledhim, 7k, M; It was supposed to be a fun chef AU but then things escalated. Chef!AU with so many feelings I can't begin to list them. It's Johanna's impeccable sense of humour mixed up very thoughtfully with drama and I'm here for that. Let it be known I needed three comments to fit all my screaming, so you definitely should go check this out. I really can’t rec this fic enough.

Falling in Reverse by @slashedface, 4k, E;  Hux and Kylo awake in a pitch black cell. They have a choice on how they meet their fate...but not much of a choice. MCD. Kylo and Hux get trapped in a cold small cell and it's just as angsty as you'd expect, with the delicious side meal of regretful late love confessions.

I Write Siths Not Trajedis by xXDarksideXx (I’m sorry, I have no idea who’s behind it lol), 3k, WIP, M; Hi my name is Kylo Ren I'm 1.9m tall and have an eight-pack (I’m shredded). I always wear all black, usually goth robes with a ripped cape that I got from Hoth Topic and I always wear a mask to obscure my face and voice because otherwise everyone would be distracted by my beauty. Original fanfic about my OC Kylo Ren set after the Original Trilogy!!!1 My Immortal kind of fic, that will make you hate yourself for liking silly things. And laugh. No knowledge of My Immortal necessary but it will make it better.

Starfucker by @agent-nemesis, 2k, E; Kylo Ren follows a suspicious noise and finds a secret room. When he makes it inside, he can't quite believe his eyes. Short but very intense porn. Kylo is not nice at all.

Darkest Temptations by @solohux, 4.5k, E; A vision sends Kylo to see a troubled Ben Solo, and things become complicated. Selfcest fic that is surprisingly...eh, spiritual? It's sweet and gentle and hot and dark and it shows the difference between Ben Solo and Kylo Ren and blurs it by accentuating it. I'm not making sense because the feeling is indescribable, you'll have to go read it yourselves.

[dedbybaelite]

The Curious Case of the Crazy Koala (Bojack Season 4 spoilers)

Don’t

This really only has a slight Bojack reference at the end if you're a Bojack fan this isn't some fan theory, it's just me trying to adapt something that happens in the show with my real personal life.

So I was recently at the end of a relationship, that for a while, I thought was terribly unexplained and unsatisfying, but I've finally come to terms with what happened. Or at least a theory that satisfies my mindmeat (I've never called it that before and tbh it's stupid).

It all started in late summer when I was smitten and wanted to hang out with this koala probably in retrospect too much. Like I know people need to breathe but I was legitimately way happier and to be honest I felt more like the person I wanted to be with them. My feelings were super mushy and like every movie trope it had to go bad at some point. That point was sharpest when we went to hang out before they had other responsibilities later in the day. This was fine by me-- I just wanted to be around them, but that day they felt really distant. Like the conversation was forced and jilted and obviously something was up. So I asked if anything was wrong and of course nothing is because somewhere along the line I lost the trust or never got to the level needed to hear them out or they just weren't in the mood. All three choices hurt so I sucked it up and tried my best to lighten the mood, but I never really succeeded because doubt is a poison that spreads too fast and the next thing you know it's taken over everything.

Thankfully a time restraint gets us out, but on the drive back doubt takes over and I ask again what's up and they say they don't think they're the type of person that can have a relationship--

Now for you Bojack fans accidentally reading this, this is where the Bojack lore comes in. I know the show makes fun of the Zoe/Zelda dichotomy and how fans of shows project themselves on the characters and lazily point at the flaws and characteristics and ascribe them to themselves and make themselves 2D representations of themselves, BUT I’M MISTER PEANUT BUTTER. I'm a big, dumb, goofy Labrador that is nice to everyone and tries to treat people the way I want to be treated. Like Mr. PB, I know that the world is a cruel, unforgiving hellscape but if you can help your friends out and help yourself you can make it a little less shitty and then you die. That's the game, folks. So as a person that knows everything is fleeting and wants everyone to be happy I took the phrase "I don't think I can be in a relationship" to be "I don't think I can be in a relationship with you" because I failed at making them happy. I send them a message I spent too much time editing during work and it doesn't say anything about how vulnerable I feel or how I need to regroup. It instead asks for some movies I lent them back and check to see if we're still friends. They send a message about how I'm great and they're terrible and I read it as a sign of guilt and not one of vulnerability. The next day I send a message about how we screwed up on communication and they offered no new insight. This doesn't help me because my mindmeat (why do I) runs a million different scenarios and all of them are my fault (invite too much, invite not enough, too mushy, not mushy enough, I did gain some weight, probably some other dude swooped her up, lesbian??) I didn't listen to what she actually said and I didn't pick up that it wasn't something I could fix.

So I retreat, hoping to catch my breath in the friend zone, but even there doubt lingers and I see a change in messages and quickly feel like the friendship stuff is fake too, so I send a message with my worries and I get cold, dead busy signal with a warning of a disconnect. At that point I knew nothing was salvageable because I overextended and couldn't feel any warmth anymore and that I failed the test.

Back to bojack, at the end of season 4 Mr. Peanut butter's relationship falls apart because Mr. Peanut butter is a bad listener and it fucking killed me to watch because I was screwing up the same way. The problem with whistling past the graveyard is sometimes you don't hear the rest of your party stop. And so them saying they feel like a terrible person probably wasn't an admission of guilt, but probably them being stuck looking into the marsh and getting pulled in by the candles.

I'm not well equipped for that though. When I moved as a kid I lost a lot of friends and was super depressed. I had fourth grade notebooks talking about dying and killing myself because I felt so alone and I missed my boy scout troop, but we moved for my dad's promotion and eventually that extra money led to family trips which led to me realizing that there is so much more to live for and how small and insignificant most problems are. That nugget of my own self truth got me through so much shit but it was something I had to find on my own (honestly through a lot of books and movies) and as the old idiom says you can’t make a horseman drink or whatever.

When I started hanging out with this person and they would be sad, I'd take them out of town and usually that would cheer them up. But one time during a subway ride back their depression flared up and I had nothing to fight it with because one of the only tools I had was currently in use and, again, instead of asking about it, I think I made some shitty joke and we went to another place that makes me happy and they didn't bring it up again that trip. So I thought it must work for everyone, now to never run out of places... I didn't do the smart thing of looking up other ways to help because I figured trips worked, but my ineffectiveness on that subway haunted every interaction after.

Now only in hindsight can I see this is where I screwed up. Of course this is just wild speculation and it could just be my neurosis of trying to fix everything trying to fix everything. But the truth is more open communication solves most problems and the doubt I felt was clouding my judgement and they weren’t really trying to address the issue either. What they needed was someone to understand the call and response of a depressed person. I’d offer compliments and mush unprompted and they would kind of deject it with some self depreciation, so when they prompted a need for that I missed the cue, which is terrible because I could've complimented them all god damn day because they are a great person. 

But when they sent the message a couple weeks later saying being a friend isn’t an option anymore, I was still in the mindset that it was over already. What followed next was probably the coldest goodbye I’ve ever experienced and it kind of tainted the whole affair. Only recently did I look on it with a different light because a mutual friend (an old coworker) said they fell off the face of world for them too. It was also during that time that I started going through the years pictures and seeing the happy little moments and recognizing that though it's over those memories are always going to be apart of me and that choosing to just remember the good is a better way to move on but I should also learn to really listen and to establish a solid base of openness. 

But why here and tagged with Bojack? Well before memelords came and overran the place, tumblr was a blogging site were you could connect on a more personal level and I think a couple of my mutuals are going through some tough shit and maybe seeing someone like them work through it could them get through their situation. i don’t know-- I feel like every story has a lesson and maybe we can gleam something off of this one. And I’m also a firm believer in writing being therapeutic, so just dumping all of this from my buffer can let me think of something else for a change. 

happy new year