#ive had some shit times at pride but had a blast at my last one

[wild-at-mind]

I get why people like the whole queer existence is resistance thing. I don't personally, because I think it puts a tonne of intracommunity pressure to exist in the 'right' way, I.e. the way that is 'radical' to the person currently scrutinising you. As a person with OCD that manifests in self scrutiny that I have to constantly concentrate on to avoid it becoming self hatred, I'm never going to be a fan of that. I kind of feel this way about any kind of assimilation conversation with regards to queerness really. I think it's an important conversation within irl communities who already care for each other- who shows up for others outside of their own interests and who doesn't, etc. But the internet makes things so impersonal and cold. It encourages people to make very serious snap judgements about others who they don't even know, and to encourage others to believe that about them. None of these people are in community together in any meaningful sense, or they wouldn't treat each other so ungenerously.

Anyway I had a bit of a realisation earlier- I think we have to tell ourselves our existence is inherently radical all the time because we're always getting the subtle message from our community and the wider activism community that having a good time or enjoying yourself is somehow bad, or insulting to people in dire straits. But instead of challenging that idea we say no it's OK because I'm doing activism simply by being here. I think it's fine to feel that way and in many ways existing as a marginalised person really is radical. I just want to make sure we aren't internalising the idea that we can't ever be happy or having a fun frivolous time without justifying it, and passing that idea along to others without meaning to.

[topazy]

The Fierce And Broken

2.04

Masterlist

“You found me then.”

Murphy nodded and sunk down to the ground next to you. It had seemed like a good idea to hide out in the library, it was closed off and you assumed nobody would look for you there. But you had forgotten that nobody knew you the way John Murphy does.

Murphy frowned seeing you so upset. “What’s going on Alba? You have been acting strange for weeks.”

You shook your head and wiped away fallen tears as he contained to stare. You took a couple deep breaths before finally being able to speak, “it’s nothing...I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid Al, and thats the problem.” Murphy put his arm around your shoulder, “who’s ass do I need to kick for this?”

His comment made you chuckle, “no one.” You wiped away more tears before smiling into his hug. “I just feel so tired always pretending, you know? And I don’t know how to make it right. I just feel broken.”

Murphy brushed a strand of hair out of your face, you could see the look of concern on his face. “What do you mean by broken?”

“I just-” You struggled to find the words to express how you were feeling. “I look at girls John.”

“So?” He scoffed, obviously not understanding what you were getting at.

“No I mean I look at girls. I look at them the same way I should look at boys...” Pausing you thought about your next choice of words, “I like girls.”

Murphy placed a soft kiss to your cheek he had been stroking a moment previously. “Yeah girls are pretty hot.”

You smiled into his embrace. John was the only person you had worried about treating you differently when you realised that you had started to get crushed on girls, but the truth was he didn’t care. And you’d never been so grateful he was your friend.

You woke to the sounds of a woman yelling, “I need a saline and a pressure dressing. I’m going to need to check her hip bones in a moment.”

“I’m on it.”

You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the harsh light of the room. Doctor Griffin was leaning over you, she smiled when she noticed you waking up. “You gave us quite a scare, I’m glad to see you awake Y/N.”

“Where am I?” You asked groggily.

“Camp Jaha,” another voice said.

Facing the doorway you could see Octavia smiling as walked towards you, with her arms stretching out. She pulled you into a tight hug. “You had me so worried Al! I thought you had died.”

You held onto her tightly, “me? I thought the blast from the rocket had got you.” Pulling back from the hug you whined at the sharp pain in your arm. “Oh Jesus, I did forget about the pain.”

“Careful, you’ll end up pulling your IV out.” Jackson said, before explaining he needed to dress a deeper cut on your back. You nodded for him to start and don’t your best not to cry as the feeling of nippiness started to spread across your bare skin.

Octavia squeezed your hand. “Clarke told us what happened. The mountain men...how they are taking bone marrow and blood from us and grounders, from you.”

“Some of our people are still in there.” You paused for a moment to try and think about what else happened, “Anya is dead. She was going to set up a meeting with us and her commander, but she’s gone.”

Octavia kneeled down to your level. “Hey, we still have a chance.” She squeezed your hands again, “you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to come in and see you. I know Murphy will be thrilled when he knows you are awake.”

“Murphy?” You asked confused, after hanging Bellamy and shooting Raven you thought he would have been banished again. God, Raven. “Murphy is still in camp? And Raven’s alive?”

“He sure is, and Raven is alive and waiting to see you.” Once Jackson was finished Octavia leaned in closer to you, “I’m glad I caught you before I left.”

“Where are you going?”

Octavia watched to make sure nobody else was paying attention to your conversation. “Raven is turning the electric fence off so me Bellamy, and Clarke can leave-” she stopped talking when Abby walked back into the room. “Murphy and Finn are actually out looking for our people now.”

You played along so Abby wouldn’t grow suspicious. Octavia shared a knowing look with you, the thought of her going out into the wild scared but you knew Bellamy would keep her safe. You mouthed ‘be careful’ before she left.

“So,” Abby said, stepping in front of you with a smile. “We are going to look at your hip once Jackson is back, I’ll need to check for any signs of infection. I’m honestly surprised you managed to walk that far considering what was done to you.”

“Clarke helped,” you shrugged. A look of pride spread across the older woman's face. Clarke wasn’t your favourite person but she did save you from drowning, “Anya also helped. She saved me and Clarke a couple of times...what they are doing to the grounders is worse than what’s happening to us, to me. It’s barbaric.”

Abby gave you a sympathetic smile as Jackson entered the room. You dropped the subject and leaned back into the table.

—

Groaning you sat up, your original plan was to go look for your friends but between the pain and sleep deprivation you had nodded off. Sighing you looked around the room for your clothes but couldn’t see them. The gown you were wearing wasn’t exactly practical.

Opening the door to the hallway you looked around for anybody that could help but it was empty. Hearing footsteps you decided to walk in that direction when you heard Abby’s voice.

“Did you know about this?”

“No.”

You recognised the other voice instantly and smiled. It was Raven.

“Tell me where they went and you won't be in trouble.” The aggression in Abby's voice surprised you, she had always been so nice when you had previously met her.

“Abby, I...”

“Someone let them through the fence. Someone gave them guns.”

Oh shit. It’s finally clicked, Abby knows Raven helped her daughter and the others escape. You walked as fast your body allowed you to before finding the door to the room they were in. You caught your breath before opening the door.

“I don’t know what you’re talk-”

You let out a gasp as you opened the door and saw Abby slapping Raven across the face. What the fuck. Abby stepped back from the brunette, “She thinks that because of what she's been through she's changed, but she's still just a kid.”

“You’re wrong, Abby. She stopped being a kid the day you sent her down here to die.”

Abby finally noticed you standing at the doorway and cleared her throat before giving you a fake smile, she obviously didn’t think you had seen. “Y/N, how are you holding up?”

As she spoke Raven turned around to face you, and you could see the red mark on her cheek. It took everything inside you not to curse the doctor out for hurting Raven. “Uh,” you knew from the look your friend was giving you she didn’t want you to say anything. “I don’t know where my clothes are.”

“Oh of course,” Abby clasped her hands together. “Octavia took them earlier and I’m afraid she didn’t tell me where they were placed, and she’s busy at the moment. I can-”

“I have spare clothes Alba can wear until we find hers,” Raven said quietly.

Abby nodded and exited the room, once you were alone you pulled Raven into a hug. You were afraid to say anything knowing that your voice would break. You were concentrating so hard on not crying that you didn’t notice the leg brace Raven had on until you stepped back.

Raven gave you a soft smile before, “I thought you were goner Al.”

“Likewise,” you moved to get a better look at her cheek. “I can’t believe she hit you.”

“It’s fine Alba, I don’t care about it. What I care about is your back.”

For the first time since being taken by the mountain men you didn’t feel that everything was doomed, knowing that two of your friends were safe was enough to bring a little bit of light back into the darkness.

“Come on, let’s get you out of that horrendous gown.”

—

“I can’t believe you are staying in a tent, they should have found you a room inside. If not because of your leg then at least because of all the work you do for them.”

Raven laughed at the comment as she handed you clothes. You ripped the gown off and happily threw it to the ground and shimmed into a pair of dark jeans and pulled on a clean top. Opening your mouth to thank Raven again you noticed the way she was staring down at her leg. You sat down on the bed next to her, “Reyes?”

You could see her lip trembling as she glanced up, “I have nerve damage from the gunshot.”

“I’m so sorry Raven, I swear I’m going to kill Murphy when I get my hands on him.” It still didn’t feel real to me that Murphy was capable of hurting someone that much. “Whatever you need I’ll be at your beck and call.”

“Careful you might regret saying that one day,” she chuckled. Raven’s smile faded when she focused at your waist, the brunette placed her hand by your bruised hip. You hadn’t noticed the top was ruffled up at one side, her fingers lightly rubbed against the top of your bruise. “What happened Al?”

You shrugged, “It’s a little fuzzy. The last thing I remember is injecting you with coagulant, Anya tried to kill us, then we blasted off.”

“Then the mountain men came.”

“Yeah they came and took most of us. I’m glad I got out but I still feel guilty for not trying to convince others to leave with us.”

Raven gave you a sympathetic smile. “Don’t do that Al, don’t punish yourself for the pain somebody else has caused.”

You were lost for words, Raven made basic sentences sound so poetic.

“What-what did they do to you in Mount weather?”

“I remember a horrible drilling noise, then waking up to a man called Dante Wallace leaning over me. He told me some bullshit then I escaped with Clarke shortly after.”

Raven looked unimpressed, “that’s it? I want to know everything that happened.”

Nodding you began explaining the full story of how you escaped, you tried your best not to laugh as Raven’s facial expressions that kept changing. She seemed particularly interested in how you got every deep cut and bruise. “I hope Clarke manages to convince the commander to agree to a truce.”

“I hope so.” You shuffled further back onto the bed so you could lie down. Raven gave you an amused look as you made yourself more comfortable, then It dawned on you that this wasn’t your tent. “Fancy having a roommate Reyes? At least until I get my own tent.”

She grinned before laying down next to you on the small bed, “I think that could work.”

There were still so many things you wanted to discuss with Raven but it wasn’t the right time. It was still daylight outside but you were both exhausted. You couldn’t stop yawning, and could tell how strained your friend was. Raven had heavy bags underneath her eyes most likely caused by stress of her leg injury. You wished more than anything you could take that pain away from her. Her ‘get on with it’ attitude amazed you considering the situation she was in.

Even if it was impossible for you to physically take her pain away, you could always try and distract her. “Reyes?”

“Hmm?”

“What's it like to spacewalk?”

[clanoffetts]

someday. | paz vizsla x fem!reader

Chapter III

masterlist

synopsis: Paz Vizsla finds himself stuck on Dantooine with a broken ship and no credits. Luckily, he finds you, a mechanic that will fix his ship for passage to Hosnian Prime. Over the course of your time together, a courtship blossoms.

warnings/things to note: swearing; reader has hints of PTSD that will be expanded on in further chapters (and those will be tagged with stronger warnings); no use of ‘Y/N’; my fc for Paz is Winston Duke, I don’t describe Paz too much at the moment, but just know that’s who I picture!

word count: 6.4k

karyai - main living room of the covert - a big chamber for talking, resting, and even the last secure stronghold when under attack.

ba’vodu - uncle/aunt

-

The birds of Yavin IV’s song was calming as you came into full consciousness. The sleep from the night before was much needed, and very refreshing. You opened your eyes and looked to where Paz had been before you’d fallen asleep. He wasn’t there. Neither was your sleep mask. “Kriff!” You flung your body onto your right side, looking away from Paz’s side of the bed.  

Shit. Shit. Shit. You’d told him you wouldn't look. Hell, you told him it was impossible for you to look. And here you are, no mask over your eyes. What if he’d been there? After all the time you’d spent convincing him to share the bed with you, that it’d be safe. Sure, you hadn’t actually seen him, but the possibility frightened you. You couldn’t violate him like that, even if it was an accident. You couldn’t live with yourself. 

A few minutes of deep breathing later, you got out of bed, and headed into the ‘fresher. You wanted so badly to take another shower, to relax under the water, but you knew it was important to save water, not sure if the covert had water to spare for your journey. You’d have to be content with washing your face and pretending. 

You stared in the mirror, into your own eyes. You replayed the night before: the vibroblade that now sat with your stuff, the idea of Paz taking you to his home and meeting his family, learning his traditions. The pure bliss you were in as you fell asleep, and then the violent jerk of the morning’s close call. Your eyes were no longer as tired as they had been when you’d looked at yourself last night. 

You threw on jeans and a shirt, and finally left the safety of the ‘fresher. Would Paz be mad about the mask coming off? He was so hesitant as it was, you were terrified that this would push him away, make him realize that there’s too much risk in a relationship with a non-Mando. 

“Kebiin’ika?” Paz called as he heard the door to the bedroom open. 

“Yeah?”

He stood up and met you halfway between the room and the common area. “How’d you sleep?” He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a half hug before leading you to the table you’d sat at the night before.

“Pretty good,” you said, taking a seat. “Paz?” He hummed and sat down a bowl of some type of porridge in front of you. “Are you mad at me?”

The helmet snapped up to look at you. “Why would I be mad? If you think you broke the towel rack in the ‘fresher, you haven’t. It’s always been like that.”

“No, Paz,” you said. “About the sleep mask. It came off last night. I’m so sorry, I thought it would stay on. I’m not really a wild sleeper so I don’t know how it happened, but I understand if you’re mad at me-”

“Kebiin’ika,” he says, cutting you off. You suck in a big breath, not realizing how long you’d been rambling. “It’s not that big of a deal to me, it was an accident. You didn’t see my face, right?” 

You nodded. “Right.”

“See? No creeds broken,” he says. He can tell you’re still a little shaken up, and moves to lay his large, gloved hand over your small one. “If I didn’t trust you, mesh’la, I would’ve slept on the cot. I knew the mask came off when I woke up this morning, but I trust you enough that I know you wouldn’t use the opportunity of me being asleep to look, even on accident.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you swear you could hear a smile on his face. “Are you sure? I know I didn’t see anything this time, but I would understand if you want me to take the cot from now on.” He ushered you closer to him, his arm around you. It was a bit awkward with all his armor and clothes, but the heart was there. “Kebiin’ika,” he said. “I’m comfortable with sleeping the way we did last night as long as you are. I’m not worried.”

You sighed, leaning into him. The beskar was cold and you just wanted to feel him, his warm skin. “Ok,” you say. “If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable.”

“Good,” he replies. “Now, why don’t you finish eating while I call the covert. Tell them that I’ll be there shortly to pick up some of our supplies, ok?”

You nodded, and he let you out of his embrace. While spooning the food into your mouth, you watched him at the hull, punching some numbers into his gauntlet and then speaking in what you assumed was Mando’a. It was such a beautiful language, especially coming from Paz’s mouth. And he spoke it with a pride in his voice that he didn’t have when speaking Basic. 

“Alright, mesh’la,” he said as you got to the bottom of the bowl. “I’ll be back soon, no more than two hours.”

“Two hours?”

“Yes, two hours,” he laughed. “It may be sooner, but you never know. Mandalorians take a long time to say goodbye.”

You smiled at him. “Alright, have fun,” you say.

“Oh, I will,” he replies. You watched as the mountain of blue beskar exited the ship and mounted the speeder the two of you rode the day before. A lot has changed since then, you thought. Before you knew it, Paz Vizsla was gone and a dirt cloud took his place.

-

Paz’s ride back to his home didn’t take too long at all. And when he arrived, he spotted Din and Grogu on some rocks outside the entrance. 

“C’mon, Grogu,” Din is saying. “You can do it.” Grogu sat on a rock opposite Din, with his eyes closed. In Din’s hand was Grogu’s beskar ball. Grogu and his ball were inseparable. 

As Paz dismounted and began walking towards the hangar, Grogu’s eyes shot open and he let out an excited shriek. Paz didn’t speak fifty-year-old-toddler, but he figured it was something along the lines of “ba’vodu!”. 

Din turned around, too, and stood. He picked up his little foundling and greeted Paz half way. “How was your evening?”

“Nice,” Paz says. “Yours?”

Din nods. “Mine was ok, but I don’t have a pretty mechanic in my room like you do.”

Paz rolled his eyes. “Din, it’s not like that.” 

Grogu made a sound of protest. “Hm,” Din said. “My Jedi son seems to think differently. He’s never wrong about these things…” Din teases. 

Paz stops just as they’re about to open the blast doors. “Din, Grogu,” Paz says. “Just between us?”

“Just between us,” Din says, and Grogu babbles. 

Paz sighed, was he really doing this? He was. “We’re courting.”

“I knew it!” Din exclaims, and Grogu laughs. “I knew it, Paz. So what’d you give her?”

Paz patted the empty sheath. “Vibroblade.”

“Classic,” Din says. “What will you propose marriage with? Something of her homeworld’s tradition? Or wait and exchange blades that Armorer makes?”

Paz shakes his head, and he’s smiling beneath his bucket. “Maker, Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Though he figured it’d be blades. You didn’t seem too fond of being reminded of Alderaan. “But I’ll put your name in if we need a wedding planner.”

“You better,” Din replies. “Armorer will want to know, too.”

Paz nodded. “I know. I’m not sure I’ll tell her this time. I don’t want word getting out.”

“She won’t tell anyone, you know that.”

“I know, but still,” Paz said, finally punching in the code and opening the doors. “But we’ve got a covert of eavesdroppers.”

There was a child tending to one of his chores just inside, and as soon as he spotted Paz, he practically lunged at him. “Paz!”

“Hey, ad’ika,” Paz says, taking the young kid up onto one of his arms. “I didn’t get to see you yesterday!”

“I know,” he said. “My buir had me at home practicing math. Math! Can you believe it?”

Paz laughed. “Knowing your buir? Yes, yes I can.” 

The group walked further inside the winding the halls of the covert, adding new people to their crew as they saw them. Eventually they reached the karyai, and everyone got comfortable on the many cushions, chairs, and sofas littered about the room.

Paz stayed standing. “Sorry, everyone,” he said when he noticed their disappointment that he wasn’t going to be there long. “But I’ve got my end of a deal to hold up, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.” Paz noticed that at the mention of a her, helmets turned to the side, looking at each other, silently gossiping. 

“Then come in here, Paz,” Armorer says, at the doorway to her forge. “And we’ll discuss what you need.” 

Paz obeyed, making his way through all the Mandalorians relaxing in the karyai. He closed the door behind him, and sat at Armorer’s table. “We’ve compiled some things for your journey,” she says. “It’s not much, but it’s what we have. It’s in the hangar, I’m sure Clan Djarin would be happy to assist you in taking it back to your ship.”

“I’m sure it’s more than enough,” Paz replies. “Thank you, Armorer.”

She nodded. “Now, how happy was your mechanic at being left on the ship for so long yesterday?” 

Paz could hear her smirk. “She got bored. Wasn’t there when I got back,” he said. “I almost lost my mind, but she was just in the little town, shopping.”

Armorer let out a soft chuckle. “And you’re trying to tell everyone you aren’t smitten? Maker, Vizsla, I’d think you’d be better with convincing by now.”

Paz sighed. “You’d think.” 

Armorer’s stare bore into him. For Mandalorians, it usually wasn’t intimidating when another looked at you through their visor. It was normal. But Armorer’s presence was different, she was intimidating. “Where is your vibroblade?” 

Kriff. “It’s right here,” he said, patting the sheath on his left side, where his second vibroblade sat. 

“No, not that one,” she said. “The one I forged for you when you donned your helmet. I swear you had it yesterday.”

Well, he might as well tell her at this point. She wouldn’t believe that he’d lost it, this blade had Mandalorian and Vizsla carvings in it, he rarely used it in combat. “Don’t tell anyone this,” Paz said. “I want it to be a secret for now, ok?”

She nodded. 

“I gave it to her. The mechanic.”

Armorer sucked in a breath so sharp that her vocoder picked it up. “As a courtship proposal?” Paz nodded. “I wish you both many blessings, many warriors,” she said. Paz didn’t know if you wanted warriors, but Armorer’s blessings were traditional, and carried a lot of weight.

“Thank you, Armorer,” he replies. “I will pass along the message.”

“If you two are courting, then why didn’t you bring her here? Are you still going on your journey?”

Paz nodded. “She has unfinished business in the Hosnian system,” he didn’t tell her what business. It wasn’t his place, and Armorer understood. “We’ll be back, though I’m not sure when.”

“Long hyperspace travel will be good for your relationship.” Armorer entered counselor mode. “Building trust and love.”

Paz always felt a bit awkward when she became a psychologist. So he just nodded. “Anyways, you said the supplies were in the hangar?” 

She nodded. “Take care of her, Paz,” she said. They both stood. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Paz repeated. 

Paz exited the Armorer’s workshop. Back in the karyai, some people had gone back to their rooms or to tend to their duties, but many still sat around. “Din?” Paz said to his friend.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t happen to know where Bezza is, do you?”

Din nodded. “Last I saw she was in one of the sparring rooms.” Paz thanked him and headed off down one of the long corridors towards the training rooms. 

All the sparring room doors were open except one. Paz opened it gently, and looked inside. Bezza wielded the beskar staff Din had brought back with him. She was sparring with a reprogrammed droid, the only one in the covert. Paz watched with pride as she jabbed at the droid, careful not to hurt it too much. There were still children that would need to learn from sparring with the machine. 

As she landed a final blow, the droid declared her the winner, and she backed off. Paz clapped from his place at the door. “That was very impressive,” he said. “You’ve gotten used to the armor quite well.”

“Paz!” She dropped the staff and walked towards her friend. “No one told me you were here.” 

“That’s probably best,” Paz said. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to not repeat it, ok?”

Bezza nodded. “Ok. But if you tried to bring a Loth-cat in again, I’m not making any promises.”

Paz laughed. “It’s not a Loth-cat. It’s about my girl.”

“Your girl?”

Paz nodded. “We’re courting.” 

Bezza threw her arms around her ba’vodu. “Paz that’s wonderful!” Their beskar sang as he patted Bezza on the back. When she finally let go she said, “Are you guys staying here? When do you think you’ll marry? I know Mandalorian courtships tend to not last long, but she’s not a Mandalorian so-”

Paz cut off her rambling by saying, “I don’t know. Like I told Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Bezza laughed. “Of course you haven’t. How many people have you told, Paz? You know if you tell the wrong person, your courtship will be the topic at many dinner tables tonight.”

“I know,” Paz replied. “Only you, Din, and Armorer know.”

“Ok,” she said. “So I take it you’re not going to stay here?”

Paz shook his head. “We’re off to Hosnian Prime as soon as I get back with the supplies.” Somehow, Paz could sense Bezza’s disappointment. He wanted so badly to be there for her, help her through her losses, but he’d made a promise to you. A Mandalorian’s honor was their everything. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be there, but we’ll be coming back here. Maybe even to stay.”

“What’s even on Hosnian Prime?”

Paz sighed. He wanted to tell her, to give her a detailed reason so maybe she felt better. But, again, it wasn’t his place. “She has some business to take care of, Bez.”

She nodded, somewhat satisfied. “Can I walk with you to the hangar?” Paz nodded and they left the sparring room. All the way there, Bezza asked questions in typical teenage fashion. What’s her name? What’s she like? What color is her hair? And Paz answered them all. He figured you wouldn’t mind, and they weren’t too personal. All her questions reminded Paz of just how young she was. Other Mandalorians would understand not to ask those questions, just as Bezza would, in time. 

In the hangar were Din and Grogu and that kriffing ball. Din had already loaded the speeder bikes with the fuel and food, and was now just killing time with his son. “Din!” Paz called. “I’m just about ready.”

Paz turned to Bezza. “When I get back we’ll start a plan for your training. There’s still a lot to get used to in the armor, especially with the jetpack.”

“Ok,” she said. “Hurry back, alright? And be safe!” Paz and Bezza exchanged a few more goodbyes, and he promised to pass on her hello to you. 

Finally, Paz and Din had mounted the speeder bikes. Grogu sat in a carrier on Din’s chest, obviously excited to feel the wind whip around his long ears. The men had unspokenly made it a race, revving their engines and attempting to pass each other without knocking their cargo loose. 

-

You sat outside the ship, taking in the fresh air as the Mandalorians arrived in a cloud of dust, Mando’a, and a baby’s shriek. A baby? You thought. 

You got on your feet and approached the speeders. To your surprise, the Mandalorian in unpainted beskar greeted you by name. Quite a lot kinder than the stare he’d met you with when you’d first arrived. “Hello,” you said. “It’s nice to meet you.” Then your eyes finally dropped from the helmet to the carrier on his chest. “Who’s this?” 

“My son,” the Mando said. “His name is Grogu.”

You smiled at the baby. “Hello, Grogu,” you said, and introduced yourself to him. Grogu’s tiny little arms reached out for you, and with Mando's permission, you picked him up. “You’re a tiny little thing, aren’t you, Grogu?” He babbled excitedly. 

The two of you stood back as Din and Paz began loading the supplies onto the ship. “Your dad is very strong, Grogu,” you tell him as Din lifts a large crate off the bike and into the cargo hold. “Are you going to be strong like him?” Grogu gives you a strong response. This kid has to be a handful, you thought. Grogu stayed gripped onto you, his three little fingers wrapped around your one, gurgling and babbling like he made all the sense in the world. You, of course, humored him, and had a deep conversation about the inflation of credits as the shift from Imperial credits to New Republic credits took place. 

Eventually, the men were done, the ship was loaded and refueled. “Alright, Grogu,” you say. “I think your dad will be wanting you back.” You placed a kiss to the top of his odd green head, and attempted to hand him over to the Mando. Grogu had other ideas. His fingers stayed gripped on the back of your t-shirt. 

“Grogu,” Din said. “We have to go. Come on.”

You laughed at the little baby, amazed at how he’d become so attached to you in such little time. “Go on, hon,” you coax. “Your uncle and I will be back soon, I promise.” His big, dark eyes looked up at you, and then he allowed you to pass his little body to his father, who fastened him into the carrier. 

“Safe travels, you two,” Mando said, and attached the bike Paz rode to his own, and him and Grogu were off. 

Finally, you were able to give Paz a hug. “Ready, kebiin’ika?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Let me call Leia before we go,” you say. “I forgot to this morning.”

“Ok, I’ll be waiting in the cockpit whenever you’re ready.” He turned around and disappeared onto the ship. 

You held the holoprojector in front of you, anxious. Surely Leia would want to see you, right? After all your time together…

You sat the projector on a rock and sat down in front of it. You punched in the numbers Leia had sent you a while ago, and waited. Finally, a young girl answered. “May I ask who is calling?” You told her your name. “And who are you calling for?”

“Leia,” you said, and then cringed. “Uh, her royal highness.” You’d never really grasped the royal protocol. 

The girl looked closely. “Is the princess expecting you?”

“Uh, not really,” you said. “But we fought in the Rebellion together. She gave me this number, told me to call if I needed her.”

The girl nodded, and walked out of frame. Hopefully, she’d return with Leia. She did return, but no princess in sight. “Her royal highness will meet with you shortly.” And then she was gone again. 

You sat looking around at the trees, taking in your last minutes on a planet for some time. And even when you got to Hosnian Prime, it would be way different. Hosnian Prime was busy, unlike Dantooine and Yavin IV. 

“Finally!” said a voice. Leia’s. She stood in holo form on the rock, an elegant white dress covered her form and her hair was in two braids down her shoulders. “I’ve been wondering when I’d hear from you.”

“Leia!” you exclaimed. “I’ve wanted to call, but you know how I felt when the war was won…I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.”

She frowned. “Oh, stop that,” she said. “I’ll always want to hear from you. I’m sorry it took me so long to get on the line, Korrie is quite protective of me.” 

“I understand,” you smiled. “You are a very important person, your royal highness.”

Leia laughed. “Now, what did I tell you back on Alderaan about formal titles?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a normal person when you’re with me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I take it you’re a bit exhausted with decorum at the moment?”

She nodded. “And it doesn’t help that Threepio is the decorum police, either.” The two of you shared a laugh at the droid’s expense. You didn’t know how Leia could stand C-3PO all the time. “Enough with my complaining, are you ok? Is there something you need?”

“Well, I was calling to see if you’d receive me on Hosnian?” you asked. “I want to catch up with you, maybe even a few friends from the old days?”

Leia smiled. “Of course I’ll receive you! When are you leaving? And where from?”

“Yavin IV,” you say. “And hopefully as soon as I hang up with you, if that’s ok?”

She nodded. “That’d be great. I’ll have Korrie send you the coordinates. I can’t wait to see you!” Leia had a way of making anyone feel comfortable, and you couldn’t wait to be in her full presence again. You exchanged goodbyes, and Leia disappeared from the rock. 

Back on the ship, you grabbed a fruit bar from the kitchen and sat in the cockpit. “How was your princess?” Paz asked as he copied the coordinates from your holopad. 

“Good,” you replied. “I had no reason to be anxious, really.”

Paz put a gloved hand over yours on the armrest. “I’m glad it’s working out, mesh’la.” 

“What’s that word mean? You’ve been calling me that all day.”

His thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. “It means ‘beautiful’,” he says. 

“Mesh’la,” you repeat. “It’s a beautiful word, no wonder it means beautiful.” Paz chuckled a little at your awe. 

His hand left yours and landed on the controls. “Ready to head out?” You nodded, mouth too full to properly respond, and the take off sequence was activated. The ship rose out of the clearing, and you watched as Yavin IV grew smaller beneath you. You saw a building off in the distance, it looked half underground, with a large hangar at the front. 

“Is that your home?” you ask, pointing out at the structure. 

Paz nodded. “Indeed it is,” he says. 

“That was part of the Rebel base once,” you say, remembering your time here. “I didn’t spend too much time on that part, though. There was a main hangar a little farther down, but after the war Leia had a lot of it removed, so the wildlife could return to normal,” you say. “Guess not all of it was taken.”

The ship finally reached the atmosphere and Paz guided the ship through it with grace. The jump to hyperspace was made, and the ship was on autopilot for the next three days. 

Paz turned to you in his chair. “We live in a rebel base now?”

“Indeed you do,” you say. “I think a lot of that building was quarters for officers and stuff. I’ll bet Leia can tell you when we arrive.”

“You want me to come with you to meet her?”

You looked at him, a little confused. “Of course I do,” you tell him. “I don’t know how long I’ll be there and I’m sure that a princess has room to spare. Besides, it’ll do you some good to sleep on a proper bed for a few nights.”

“Are you sure, kebiin’ika? Mandalorians aren’t greeted too kindly.”

“Maybe not in the Outer Rim,” you say. “But that far into the Core? And a guest of Princess Leia’s? I’m sure it'll be ok.”

He nodded. “Ok, then. I’ll come with you.” You smiled at him, wishing so badly to smile at his face and not his helmet. You took his hand in yours, stood up, and led him to the little common area. There was a small sofa pushed against one of the walls, and you motioned for him to sit. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and retreat back to the cockpit. When you return, Paz is sat on the sofa, still as can be. It was still a little creepy, how he could just sit there. You held up your holopad. “First thing to know about dating me is I need designated snuggle and holodrama time.”

He laughed. “Is this a common thing or just a kebiin’ika thing?” 

You sat down next to him, a little confused that he was wondering if cuddling and watching holos was common. “Am I your first girlfriend, Paz?”

“If I say yes will you think I’m weird?”

“No, I won’t think you’re weird.”

“Then yes,” he said. You looked at him, feeling a wave of sadness. Had this man been cuddled ever? Hugged? Loved? You cared for him so much already, and you wanted him to feel those things. 

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s a me thing, but it’s an important thing,” you laugh, setting the holopad up to project against the blank wall of the ship. A show about a Jedi and a Twi’lek healer’s unrequited love played on the wall, a slight silver hue brought by the metal of the ship. You moved to cuddle against him, but the armor was stubborn.

“Could you, like, take some of this off?” You say, gesturing at the metal.

He feigned surprise. “You haven’t even taken me out, mesh’la, and you expect me to strip?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just lose some of it so I can cuddle you.” He obeyed, the cuirass and pauldrons going first, and then the gauntlets and gloves. He was left in his fly suit, made of a coarse weave fabric. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would do. You moved his arm around you as you settled into his chest. You could tell he wasn’t too sure what to do. “You’re warm,” you sigh.

“Sorry, mesh’la,” he says.

“Why are you sorry? It’s nice. Hyperspace gets cold,” you tell him. He was a little tense at first, he wasn’t used to this, he really hadn’t been properly cuddled since before he lost his buire so long ago. 

Paz looked down at you, your head resting against him as you took in the predictable plot of the show. You were relaxed, almost like earlier that morning when he’d woken up. The mask had been gone, and your eyes had gently fluttered in your sleep. Paz felt a tightness in his chest, a feeling he’d been having a lot since you’ve been around. It’s gotten more and more intense, especially as you curled yourself into him. Your touch was burning into his skin in an amazing way, and he knew he’d be able to feel it long after you’d get up. He repeated your it’s nice in his head. No one had ever told him that touching him was nice. In fact, most people hated the touch of a Mandalorian. If they even lived to hate it. 

As the drama went to an ad for some kind of Bantha milk, Paz felt you move to look up at him. “Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you can’t tell me what your Mando friend looks like under his helmet,” you say. “But can you tell me how he fits his ears in the helmet?”

Paz laughed. “What?”

“Well, if his ears are anything like his son’s, I’d imagine it’s hard.”

He threw his head back in a bellow of laughter. “Mesh’la, my friend and his son aren’t the same species. Grogu is a foundling.”

“A foundling?”

He finally recovered from his laughter, and his breath steadied. “Yeah, Mandalorians take in children who’ve lost their parents. My friend was a foundling once, and his son is a foundling.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well that explains the ears, I guess. You weren’t a foundling were you?” You remembered him saying something about Vizslas being important on Mandalore. 

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “The Vizsla line goes as far back into Mandalorian history as I can trace. But most importantly, Tarre Vizsla, who was a Jedi, created the Darksaber. Whoever wields the dark saber is the Mand’alor, our ruler.”

“Who is the Mand’alor now?” you ask. 

He shakes his head. “There isn’t one. Mandalore isn’t the same as it was, it hasn’t been in a very long time. Before I was born, even.”

“Well, you’re a Vizsla aren’t you? Shouldn’t you wield it?”

He laughs a little. “That’s not exactly how it works, mesh’la. Well, it worked like that for a while, but now you must win the saber in combat. Except no one knows where the saber is.” His voice had gotten sad, and he was running his right hand over his left while they sat on your back, some kind of self-soothing. “Besides,” he says, “There’s a lot of Vizslas out there I’m sure, and I don’t want to be a king. That is not the path that I follow.”

“I understand. It all becomes...a bit much,” you agree. Leia had offered you multiple positions on multiple committees in the new Senate, all dealing with labor laws and droids with a bunch of political nonsense you didn’t care to wade through. Not to mention having to represent the voice of mechanics all over the galaxy. No. Too much stress. 

“Kebiin’ika,” Paz says. “As much as I like this old, lumpy sofa, don’t you think we’d be more comfy laying in bed?” 

“I’m starting to think you’re a mind reader, Vizsla,” you say. The two of you awkwardly untangle in a mess of limbs and beskar clangs as you accidentally collide with his cuirass that lay on the floor. “Sorry,” you say, moving his armor up onto the sofa and off of the floor. 

“Don’t be,” he reassured. “Beskar is practically invincible.”

The two of you made it into the bedroom, you set your holopad up properly to project onto the blank white wall ahead of the bed, there for this reason exactly. The show was brighter now, and clearer. It was technically late afternoon by Yavin IV time, but in hyperspace it was hard to tell. Paz got rid of the armor on his lower body, the codpiece, thighs and knees, and shins. He also kicked off his boots. 

He looked so beautifully mundane. Doing something that he’d done a million times at this point, probably, and he was an expert. Could do with his eyes closed. And you loved it, you wondered if his brow furrowed under the helmet when he had to prod a clasp a little harder, or if he let out a soft huff when a piece was finally removed. 

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for you to sit between his legs. Kriff, his legs were big. 

You settled between his legs, back against his chest. His hands sat awkwardly on his thighs. “You know you can touch me, right?” you say, moving his hands to lay around your middle. 

“I have to remind myself, mesh’la,” he says. “You’re not a quick fuck. You’re someone I want to be slow with, I’m just not sure how to go about it.” You were a bit surprised at how blunt he was, but honestly? You appreciated it. He wouldn’t be playing games with you. 

You squeezed his hand. “We will go however slow as you want, alright? And don’t be afraid of me, ok? You can ask me anything.” 

“I know, cyare, and I’m grateful for that,” he says softly. He wanted to kiss the top of your head so bad. He’d seen it in holos before, but never really understood the appeal until now. 

At some point, you’d fallen asleep in the Mandalorian’s arms. It wasn’t until an hour later that he woke you up. “Kebiin’ika?” He’s whispering as much as the vocoder will let him. His voice is deep in your ear, and briefly becomes a part of your dream until you finally wake up. 

“How long was I out?” You ask, sitting up and stretching your arms out in front of you. 

He stood up, stretching his arms, too. “About an hour, I think. I dozed a bit, too.” 

“I’m hungry,” you complain. He agrees, and you’re off to the kitchen. You start making sandwiches with a few of the vegetables you knew he’d bought back on Dantooine. You smiled at them, filled with a bit of nostalgia. That greenhouse of Aliria’s was always a peaceful place. 

Paz is doing the same, though he’s making two sandwiches. You presume it’s because he’s such a large man, and such a strong man too. When you had relaxed into his chest, he was comfortable, a layer of fat that told you he took care of himself, and underneath you knew were strong, hardened muscles. 

“Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to sit with our backs to each other?” you ask. “So we can eat together instead of in shifts?” He nods, finishing up his sandwiches. You grab your plates and make your way to the sofa. He moves his armor back onto the floor a bit clumsily, and has to remind you that beskar is strong. He’s facing to the right, you to the left, backs together. 

“You can lean back on me, cyare,” he says, and you smile at the switch of the nickname. It was kind of nice, not knowing which endearment would envelop you when he opened his mouth. You hear a click and hiss, sounds you’d heard the night before, and then the clunk of his helmet on the ship’s floor. 

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” he says between bites. “Armorer and Bezza said to tell you hello.”

You remembered who Armorer was, but your brow furrowed, trying to recall where you’d heard the second name. “Bezza is the girl who you bought the journal for, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind my telling her about us. I’m the closest thing she has to family at the moment.”

You smile. “Of course it’s alright, Paz,” you say. “I’d love to meet her. She sounds very sweet.”

Paz felt a wave of joy rush over him. Bezza was very special to him, even more so now. And now you were special to him, too, and he wanted nothing more than for you two to get along. “If I would’ve known I would’ve brought her with me to the ship instead of my friend,” he said. He had to catch himself before saying Din’s name, knowing that Din was very particular about his name. Bezza, on the other hand, was a more modern Mando. “Maybe once I teach you to use that vibroblade, I can teach you how to wield a staff. Then you two could spar.”

“I don’t know, Paz,” you say. “I’m sure you’re a fantastic teacher, but I don’t see myself holding my own against a Mandalorian in combat.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll train you the Mandalorian way. One day, mesh’la, you will hold your own.”

A silence followed, you could hear the crunch of the chips he’d put in his sandwich as he bit. 

“Is Bezza your foundling now?”

Paz swallowed his bite. “Maybe if she was younger I’d take her in, but she’s practically an adult. I wouldn’t want to insult her by insinuating she still needs caring for.”

“Everyone needs caring for,” you say, leaning your head back against him. “I’m twenty-six and I need caring for, emotionally anyways. I’m not sure how old you are, but I’m sure you do, too.” 

He wasn’t at all shocked that you were twenty-six. He was, however, shocked that his age didn’t ever come up. “I’m forty-three,” he said, hoping that wouldn’t scare you. It didn’t seem to, so he continued. “And I guess you’re right, but still, I can care for her without taking her in.”

“I guess,” you said, and decided to let the topic of Bezza rest for a bit. “Do you think you’ll ever take in a foundling?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’d like to father some kids as well, but also take in foundlings. Not only is it important to the Tribe, but I love kids. That’s why I’m their teacher whenever I’m not out hunting.”

“That’s sweet, Paz,” you tell him. “I’d like a kid, too, I think. Though, it scares me. Making a person inside my body for almost a year.”

“Mandalorians say to train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger,” he says. “I’m sure you can see why. Having children is important, it’s even in the Mandalorian wedding vows: ‘we will raise warriors’.” 

You smile up at the ceiling, picturing you and Paz having a wedding. Some weird mix of Mandalorian and Alderaanian culture, exchanging Mandalorian vows. Maybe it was a bit early to be thinking about this, but you didn’t care. 

-

You watched as Paz cleaned the plates from lunch. He volunteered to take your plate, and now he stood at the sink, scrubbing away the residue of the condiments and components of your lunches. Again, he looked so beautifully mundane, gloves gone, revealing his dark skin to you. Through the bubbles of soap you saw small pink scars littering the top of his hands. He scrubbed away with the brush, working diligently. Again you wondered what kind of face he makes when he concentrates. Does he stick his tongue out a little? Bite on the inside of his lip? 

You thought back to the wedding you’d put together in your mind. You thought about how after those vows were exchanged you’d get to see the face he makes not only when he concentrates, but when he’s happy or frustrated, too. 

He was such a mystery, but also easy to read. It confused you in the best way possible, and all you wanted was to read chapter after chapter of Paz Vizsla until you got to the part where you’d get to see his face, kiss his face, talk to his eyes rather than a visor. Someday, you told yourself. Someday. 

tag list (send me an ask or reply and i’ll add you!!) - @remmysbounty

[aphroditestummyrolls]

When the Falcon landed in the field outside his house, Kes had been living on the fumes of hope. He counted down every day of every week, waiting for a comm request, a holo-message, any proof of life from Poe. Shara’s tree swayed at the edge of the garden every day, and he chose to see it as a sign—she was keeping their boy safe, he was fine. Surely, if Poe… If something had happened to Poe, The Force Tree – the one he’d grown up watering, playing under, where they’d buried his mother – would’ve done something. 

It was more than he could handle when the Falcon—not Black One -- landed at the edge of his land and Poe didn’t come bounding out. 

Luke hadn’t been the person he expected—everyone with half a head and wasn’t living under a rock knew that Luke hadn’t been around in years. But, no one on that blasted old freighter was his son, and Kes couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think beyond the distinct, terrible memory of the last time Luke Skywalker had come to this house with news of Kes’s family. 

“Hello, Kes – I’m sorry it’s been so long.” 

“S-Skywalker,” he ground out, not wanting to know – he’d rather take no news as good news than hear if… “I’ll kill you right here if you’ve come by to deliver me another body.” 

If he’d been in better control of himself, he would’ve been surprised at the vitriol he still felt, so long after he thought he’d forgiven Luke for his part in Shara’s death. But, if this was true, he wouldn’t have a shred of good faith left for the man.

Luke’s hands were up in some cautious show of surrender, when a young voice broke into Kes’s worst fears like sun through a monsoon cloud. 

“Kes Dameron? Are you Poe’s dad?” a slip of a girl came walking down the gangway, casual, a smile on her face. 

“Have you heard from him?” Kes didn’t try to hide his desperation. They were well past that point. 

She looked taken aback, gaping for a moment before sputtering out “I mean, I – yes. I comm’d into base just a few weeks back, he’s been watching out for Finn. He fired the last shots into Starkiller Base! He’s a hero.” 

The relief was unlike anything he’d felt since the Death Star and the Empire fell. It swept over him like a wave, the Force Tree continuing to sway in a silent I told you so, but Kes just gripped the fence to his garden and let out a strangled noise. He let himself finally breathe, a few tears sticking to his lashes. 

“I take it you haven’t heard from Poe.” Luke surmised uselessly. 

“Nearly 2 months of radio silence.” Kes rasped, clearing his throat and finally greeting his guests with a weary smile “It’s good to see you, old friend. I’m sorry about… I’ve been pretty high strung. C’mon in, then – your little friend clearly has a story about my boy, and I was just about to crack open a bottle of Alderaanian wine.” 

The decision to take the position they were offering wasn’t particularly difficult, if only to get a good look at his son for himself – maybe give him a strong smack upside the head for scaring his old man like that. 

Poe was a hero of The Resistance. He’d taken down something that seemed unbeatable. Kes drank more than he meant to, relief, joy, and pride leaving him nearly floating, looking out the window at Shara’s tree and knowing she was proud, too. 

So, they stayed a week. Young Rey got to train with Luke, meditate under one of the only Force Trees in existence. Kes learned about Han, and that nasty business with his and Leia’s son. He showed Rey Shara’s old A Wing, and Poe’s many scrapped speeders in the barn. She was sweet. 

He’d always said that if he and Shara had had more time, they’d have had a daughter. They’d have had to expand their house they’d have had so many kids. 

Rey was very sweet. 

Boarding The Falcon and leaving his home after so long made him feel old. His first thought had been But who’ll tend the garden? And he just had to laugh. Shara would’ve called him an old homebody and told him to get off his ass. 

The galaxy needed him – and so did their boy. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last blaster shots into the core of Starkiller mingled with his screams, with Yavinic songs, and his dad’s warm voice -- a Force-like pressure squeezed his muscles tight until he felt he might explode, a cry turning into a whimper as he bolted up in bed. His head pounded, the last tendrils of the dream pulsing through his skull behind his eyes. 

BB-8 charged in the corner, the soft blinking light of his sleep mode helping to level out Poe’s desperate breathing. 

He had gotten Starkiller—they had won. They had won. 

But he still felt like he’d failed. Ren had gotten through, leaving the mark of his probe on every fiber of Poe’s being, every memory in his head. 

Poe fumbled his way out of the tangle of sweaty sheets, slipping into his trousers and pulling a shirt over his head with trembling hands. His heart continued its mad hammering in his chest, just like it did every morning. If he managed to sleep at all, that is. 

The mess hall was blissfully empty as he padded through the midnight quiet of Headquarters, just like it was every night. 

Poe’s nights always seemed to go the same way, with little variations here and there. He’d wake up, try not to throw up (he didn’t always succeed), stop by the mess hall for his first cup of caf, and find something to keep him busy. 

He had repainted Black One four times in the two weeks since Starkiller. He had rebuilt her engine even more. He had spent late nights and early mornings recording Holo-messages, notifying the families of his dead pilots. 

One of the only things that stayed the same, though, was walking through the sterile white halls of the medbay to Finn’s room. He always looked so peaceful. He was always sleeping with a heavy, dreamless calm that made Poe feel like his life wasn’t completely falling apart— at least Finn’s vitals were strong. 

That night was no different. The caf was going cold in his hand, but Poe was busy watching his friend’s chest gently rising and falling with the ventilator, listening to that strong, steady heartbeat through the monitor. 

“Poe Dameron, why am I not surprised?” A familiar voice sighed from the doorway. He made a conscious effort not to jump in surprise—he should’ve seen this coming, after all. 

“Hey Doc.” He flashed her a half a grimace—soft and a little pleading, he didn’t have the energy for anything else—before looking down into his caf. He knew what she was going to say, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. He knew he looked like Bantha shit, he didn’t need anyone else to tell him that. 

“You look like Bantha shit.”

Nice, he thought “Still the best-looking guy in the Resistance—how’s Finn doing?” 

She huffed a breath that might have been a laugh in a previous life where she had a sense of humor. “He’s the same as he was when you asked me last night— the spinal damage is nearly healed. He’ll be stiff and weak when he wakes up, but a few weeks of intensive physical therapy should have him back on his feet. I’ve never seen someone take to the bacta so well. Your friend’s lucky.”

He nodded. The unchanged, optimistic words set something at ease in his tightly knotted gut. Finn’s chest rose and fell, his short black lashes curling away from the start of his soft, dark cheek. Poe missed his full lips and his blinding smile. People talked a big talk about Poe’s smile, but he had nothing on Finn. 

“—Commander, are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” he pulled his gritty, tired gaze from his friend to look back at the doctor’s unamused face. 

Her lips were pursed, and her eyebrow was raised. She almost looked like his mom used to, and while that used to be something that would make Poe smile, a spike of shame punched into him instead. The feeling only got worse when her expression softened. She was worried about him—just like Snap, and Jess, and even The General--

“I asked if you were feeling alright. Poe, are you sleeping at all?”

He paused, swallowed, and tried to hide it all in feigned nonchalance “Yeah, Doc—I’m fine.” 

“Yeah?” she was, if possible, even less amused than before “You’re here every night—at first, I thought you were on some sort of night shift, but The General said you’re on leave to recuperate after Starkiller. Usually, people go home.”

“There’s too much to do around here—”

“How’s Kes?”

He tried to hide the flinch at his dad’s name, but his level of success was written all over the doctor’s face. He’d failed again. 

The phantom pains of Ren’s presence in his mind curled through his blood like smoke. He couldn’t even picture Kes’s face without the urge to cry. 

“He’s alright. He fought in the first rebellion; he knows where I’m needed.”

There was a long pause, and Poe was just waiting for her to call his bluff—he hadn’t comm’d in to Yavin IV since before Jakku. Dad was probably worried sick, Poe never used to go longer than a week without contact. 

It had been nearly 2 months. 

Dr. Kalonia sighed “Have a good night, Poe. Don’t forget to get some sleep—can’t have a pilot who can’t steer straight.”

From Love Will Help You Heal on AO3

[farcryfuckmeup]

In Memoriam Pt. V

Part V of an eight part archive series

Part I: Joseph Seed x Deputy

Part II: John Seed x Deputy

Part III: Jacob Seed x Deputy

Part IV: Faith Seed x Deputy

Part V: Sharky Boshaw x Deputy

Part VI: Nick Rye x Deputy

Part VII: Kim Rye x Deputy

Part VIII: Staci Pratt x Deputy

The first and last day Sharky saw Dep.

Sharky Boshaw x Deputy

Sharky had been rolling through Fall's End, heading to 8-Bit to meet up with Hurk and Jess when he saw the commotion. People were huddled around the outside of Pastor Jerome's church, and he was going slow enough to see that some of them were hugging each other.

He recognized Mary May leaning on the good Pastor, a devasted look on her face. Hudson, the other deputy that had come to Hope County with Rook, was on her knees with her head hanging. Sharky pulled over to the side of the road, careful not to ram into the bus that had been parked in the middle of the street for God knows how long. Mary May had looked over from the church towards Sharky's direction, then pushed herself off the Pastor before making her way over to his car.

"Boshaw! Boshaw!"

"Boshaw! Charlemagne Victor Boshaw right?" A woman was standing on the ground beneath him, one of her hands stuffed into her pocket and the other holding a red camo painted AK-M. Sharky pushed one side of his headphones off his ear so he could hear her better. "I stumbled upon your frequency and you caught my interest. What's going on?"

"Well, if you require some more brevity in your day to day life, you can just call me Sharky. Welcome to the disco inferno, man," He started to go on about how the trailer park was his special place where he could just be himself away from the prying eyes of law enforcement types such as herself. Here is where he was free to unleash his fire and mayhem in a pants-free, no consequence zone. The Deputy hadn't been able to help but look down and make sure Sharky was in face wearing pants. "I have pants on now, yes, but who knows what the next half-hour, forty-five minutes hold." Sharky described his sound system and how Faith's Angels always came running whenever he blasted his music.

"-It sure is fun to melt their faces off." Rook tuned back into Sharky's apparent monologue as he mentioned frying the Angels, and she started to clamber up to the roof where he stood. She reloaded her gun to make sure she wouldn't run out once the Angels came a-knockin'. " If it pisses off the Project, I'm here for it." She'd whistled and a cougar came darting out from the woods, snarling and skidding to a stop on the ground below the deputy.

"Holy shit is that Peaches? Mable's cougar? Damn Dep, as whack as Eden's Gate is, it's even more whack that you're walking around with a cougar." Sharky bounced his eyebrows in surprise before turning back to crank his music up.

Disco music started blaring through the trailer park and Angels came in packs. Usually, he'd have his cousin Hurk with him, but something had happened with his Senior's car so he was stuck at home.

The deputy was taking them out with headshots, Peaches was tearing into their throats, and Sharky was...well Sharky was melting their fucking faces off as promised. Then his system had short-circuited and before he could move to shut them off, Deputy was already taking off for the different switches.

"Cover my ass, I'm going for 'em!" She shouted over the music while booking it. Both Peaches and Sharky took out Peggies that turned to run for her, and he was impressed by how well she maneuvered around the junk Sharky had moved around. Once the music was off and the Angels were all dead, the deputy had climbed back up to the roof, wiping blood splatter off her forehead and onto her forearm. He thought it was hot as hell.

"That's...the last of 'em, Sharky." She held out a dirt and blood-covered hand, offering up a knuckle-bump. Rook had a grin on her face when Sharky punched her fist lightly, then dropped her AK-M on the ground unceremoniously. "We did good."

"What can I say, amigo? You and me, we got chemistry," Sharky started to jump up and down excitedly, holding his shotgun close to his chest. He was in a good mood, he couldn't help but get jiggy. "We're like...we're like a freakin' team!"

"Never thought you'd be friends with a cop, did ya?" Rook had a grin on her face like she was proud they'd done this together. Proud they'd probably pissed off Faith.

Once Mary got closer to the car, Sharky saw just how distressed she'd looked, and his first instinct was to look to where she'd been staring. The church.

"Po-Po!" Sharky didn't think he'd ever hopped out of a car so fast in his life, but he could hear Rook's voice chiding him about not wearing a seatbelt. He suddenly wished he'd worn it once, just for her. There were a lot of things he was wishing he had done as he sprinted for the church, only to end up bumping into the Pastor.

"It's too late, Sharky. She's-she's been up there since last night." The Pastor spoke softly and Sharky felt his chest burn as he realized he'd stopped breathing.

Eden's Gate had sent a message. Crystal clear. Gruesome. Traumatizing. Nobody knew if the Seeds had actually given the order for it to happen since some of the Peggies had been acting out as of late. It didn't matter though. The Peggies had done it in the name of the cult, and the Seeds lead the group of fucking fanatics. That's all the citizens of Hope County cared about.

Dep had gone dark the night before, running around the county raising hell for the cult. Sometimes she liked to go off on her own and take some quiet time to think while she fought the Project. Nobody had thought anything of it. Sharky certainly hadn't. Until now.

Sharky's first thought had been what poor citizen of Fall's End had pissed off Johnson enough to warrant this, but it started to sink in as he recognized who it was.

The deputy was bloodied, bruised, and strung up on the church. She was posted on a cross with barbed wire holding her against the wooden planks. What the cross was attached to, he couldn't tell. He almost couldn't believe it.

"We jus' talked over the radio, she said she was going-going up to Jake'n'Bake's for the evenin'. She had business with the Whitetail, with-with Eli." Sharky took another step forward, nearly stumbling away from Jerome as his vision blurred with tears. He didn't understand how Dep could be gone. She always bounced back from whatever the hell had happened. She'd been caught by Jacob twice, been taken to John's bunker and escaped, and been drugged up by Faith. It had seemed like nothing could keep Rook down.

"There was a broadcast this morning, on the TVs. John Seed said she had died on the cross for our sins, sacrificed so that we could walk through the Gates of Eden." Jerome put a hand on Sharky's shoulder as he sniffled and rubbed his eyes. He looked back up at his best friend, his partner in crime. His Deputy. She had a smirk on her face, or at least it seemed this way, and Sharky felt a swell of pride knowing what it meant. She hadn't gone down without a fight. She'd given the cult as much hell as she could before she'd croaked. It gave Sharky a bit of relief that she hadn't been taken by surprise or given up easily.

Rook looked just as smug about kicking the cult's ass as she did the day he met her, and this time, it was where they said their goodbyes.

"Atta girl, chica."

[mattyslittleworld]

6.

I’m in a cafe in a French little corner of Toronto called Leslieville. I’ve been on the road for a few days by myself, about to start a Canadian week run. My bro hit me about booking a small cool situation and honestly I needed it. First show is a house show and I pulled up to load in...a punk girl full of patches watering plants on her deck. The house looked condemned. I walk in and the house smells like cat shit, there’s stains everywhere, food everywhere, spaced out wonderful dedicated humans, and hardcore posters all over the walls, showing the house shows they’ve thrown over the years. The punk girl said they’ve been doing shows for 6 years. They slide the couch over and setup a PA. This is exactly what I need in my soul. I grew up in these punk squats all over the world. I am this. I come from this. These people don’t know who Casanova or Albee Al are. They don’t know Fetty Wap or Tsu Surf. They know Realm Hulud and this underground culture they love applying to the outside world that pushes them away. A truth to be romanticized.

 I felt like I burnt myself out a month ago. Taking my dreams and flipping them into reality - the loss of friendship and love made me march forward and demand a new life and once that door opened I ran full speed and never looked back....until Quad Studios a few months back. I looked in the mirror and found nothing of the person I was - no resemblance of that kid. That scared me. So when John hit me with this I accepted immediately and packed my shit. I just wanna have convos about challenging, progressive, active things. Trade road stories. Talk about 7inches. Hardcore and punk. I’m grateful to be able to experience both of these worlds. I asked the punk girl if there was a coffee shop and she said there’s a booouuugie one around the corner if “you like spending a lot of money” and when I got here the barista charged me 2 bucks. I love that fuck the system attitude, although at the same time I think I’m becoming a part of the system - the sold out, corporate side of the music business that we all ran against our whole lives. I mean I just wrote a song with Casanova about texting. I just rapped 4 bars with Tsu Surf about gucci sunglasses and Louie v coats and fucking in the back of an Uber. 

I packed my shit and went to NYC and finally got to check out the Queens Bridge housing that Nas grew up in. They were huge. So many. It was so awesome. You can sense the pride and community. From there I just drove around NYC finding spots I used to hangout in as a kid. Blasting inspiring tunes and just vibin out. 

Ended up in Spanish Harlem, Queens, China Town. Damn I love New York. At 4 am I left and started my drive to Canada with a stop at Niagara Falls, where I had a Hotel for 2 days waiting for me. I checked in and just cooled out for 2 days it was amazing. I forgot how much I love touring alone. I drove a half hour to Andy’s house and hung out with him and his wife for the night. And damn did I need that. I needed trust. Loyalty. Familiarity. Friendship. Somebody who grew up fighting like me. Who left that life behind like me. Who’s been in real trouble and seen real life hell like me. We both came so far.  Beautiful.

Im currently in a hotel in Chicoutmi, Quebec. The window open, breeze coming in nice and sweet. Canadian currency everywhere. Coffee cups everywhere. Ive only eaten fruit the past 2 days. I feel good. Last night the drive was really lonely and long, but I toughed it out and here I am. Thinking back a few days ago to Toronto, I was so inspired and so electric. The hotel was right downtown and I walked all the way to Chinatown and the markets. Running around by myself blasting music. You go throughout your life knowing you need to outlive your demons - nights like that really defines that. The shows have been so cool. Great people. Great conversations. I have a few Canadians and im back in the states. 

Ive been editing three music videos along the way. One of which is with Casanova. Im really proud of this. I never thought id get to such a height of being in the room with someone as famous as him. We did the song and it was amazing - but for him to double back and hit this video with me and Rob, damn. The day of the shoot I was so quiet and so awkward before I left. Is this happening? Is this really a thing? Is he really gunna show up? A model is coming. Rooms have been rented. People have been invested. Its all on us. We got there early and set up the set. Ive said it many times before on here - my life socially is completely different. Everybody in my life is brand new and not many people know of my past musical endeavors or even my past in general. But having Rob and Colgan there with me really made me happy. Through thick and thin. I didnt hear from Cass all day so I shot him a text - no answer. I was like oh my god should I call and be annoying? Called him and immediately picked up AYO WHATS GOOD MATTY! 1030 right?! And I was like damn. This dudes a good dude. I asked him if he wanted any Hennessy and he said Yeah pick me up a bottle of dusse. I was like no problem dude….hung up…looked at Rob and went…”What is Dusse?” And he was like NO IDEA LOL. Hit Colgan who was on the way like yo can you scoop Cass some Dusse on the way?? He was like WTF IS THAT!!! I was like IDK so I did the whitest thing ive ever done (Besides being a white rapper) and sent him a google image screen shot and boom nailed it in time. Cass calls and belv goes to let him and his crew in and they mob up and its on. All love from there with such a good vibe. Me and my day 1’s making history…..I remember specifically me rob and Colgan at the port Monmouth skatepark hopelessly lost of a future. Written off by our town and society. Parents let down. Pieces of local shit that’ll amount to nothing. Here we are. Roc Nation….from the basements man. With Belv in the house - without him…none of this would be possible. Killed the video and it left me inspired to see bro just get in the back of a black suburban and drive off. Like damn. Thats wealth. Mentally, and financially. Thats inspiring to me. To be that much of a millionaire but still come and put on for some kids he sees potential in. 

I feel a void though. I want to share this all with somebody. Im ready for a relationship - I feel my mind and body gravitating towards that way of thinking and behavior. I think back to the days of having a home in someones heart….so comforting. I needed to run though. I needed this time. I needed to raise hell. I needed those fights, to fuck my life up. I NEEDED this. I needed to plant my feet on this planet and just get my name known. Make shit happen. The window is open right now…and a storm is rolling in off in the distance. You can see lightning. You can see the clouds darken. Wow. After this show im going to rush back here and just watch it on this sill. 

I feel extremely emotional right now. Im trembling. 

[ghost-chance-digital-works]

Okay, so things IRL are pretty shit right now, but when things get awful, creation is my coping skill. Since I’m fighting writers’ block - at the worst flipping time - I figured throwing together another piece of artwork would help. Thus, boom.

The upcoming fourth part of "A New Lease on Life" has been officially named for some time now, and it was time it got its own cover art. Like the first three parts of the story (that's "Time to Burn," "This Time Imperfect," and "Between the Raindrops") Part IV is named for a song that fits the overall mood and theme. This one's named for Nickelback's song of the same name. Shown are the four main original characters in the story - Bree, Beverly, Mercy, and Amber, with corresponding lines from the song. Explanation of image follows if you're curious, and here’s a link to a detailed visual breakdown of the process:  << img00.deviantart.net/0857/i/20… >>         Creation Process - Base - The background came from a PD photo, altered for illustration-look, four different color-filters applied in layers, and changes to saturation on a couple. Characters - these came initially from carefully constructed 'free avatar' pics of the characters but were heavily altered, blacked out, transparent-matted, and color-blocked to replace the black. I had an absolute BLAST adding details to the characters' hair - especially Bree, (whose curly hair didn't turn out the way I expected) Mercy, (whose hair is pin-straight but always messy and frankly resembles a haystack) and Beverly (who, BTW, is wearing one of her hair-scarves over her scalp.) There were also some edits to change posture and apparel - Mercy is halfway between shrugging and bristling, Bree is striking a pose with her sweater falling off one shoulder, and Amber now has all five of her ear piercings instead of just the single pair in the avatar. Once the blackouts were finished and transparent-matted, they were added to the altered base image and sized accordingly. Texture masking was carefully applied to the characters and four different 'lens flare' masks were applied to separate the four quarters of the canvas and clean up the color-filter separation. Text - every line was applied individually, sized, positioned, the whole shebang - it was a pain in the rump. Finally, a not-so-hidden signature was applied according to my usual 'signing a-la "Where's Waldo?" habit. All in all, this piece would normally have taken a few days of work in sessions, but because I've been firmly in 'I needz a vakashun frum realty" mode, I got it all done in one...ungodly...long...stint. My arms are killing me, all the way from my shoulders to my fingertips, and I'm going to be seriously stiff from leaning over the tablet so long, but it was friggin' worth it. Life's been pretty sh*t lately so it's nice to be able to accomplish something artistic despite the 'IRL drama" triggered writers' block I'm fighting.      As promised, IMAGE EXPLANATION - feel free to skim or skip. -  Orange and Pink - Briallen Hardy. Bree is paired with Michelangelo, whom we all know has some...difficulties with hyperactivity and focusing, and she also has some issues she's had to work past, namely some mild trauma from her last relationship and Beverly's long-term illness - an illness that nearly killed Bev. Mikey had to exercise patience while Bree worked out her fears and issues, and Bree had to endure an ungodly long time of waiting for her cousin to recover or die. Through it all, she and Mikey clung together, grew together, and they're just growing stronger. This was a lesson Mikey and Bree had to learn together - "miserable as waiting is and as hard as it is to be patient, the end result is worth it."

  -  Blue and Teal - Beverly Hardy. Bev is paired with Leonardo, an alpha male with an undisputed 'super hero' complex. He saved Bev's life once before, long before the story officially began, and despite the risks, he found himself assuming responsibility for her. Beverly, however, has too much pride and determination to suffer his babying without a fight. In the end, she needed his help - as he needed hers - though neither were willing to ask for it and both were a pain in the rump about accepting it. This lesson is one both Leo and Beverly already knew but struggled to accept - "Just because someone needs help it doesn't mean they want that help, and nor is receiving assistance you didn't want just cause for resentment."

  -  Red and Green - Mercy Ross. Mercy isn't the sort of friend you take home to Mama - she's brassy, abrasive, sarcastic as heck, and she's got baggage out the arse; ironically enough, Raphael is much the same but with different baggage and to a different degree. Mercy spent her previous life convinced that things never got any easier - she'd always suffer, end of story - but since Raph wormed his way into her prickly heart, she's starting to realize that maybe her pessimism isn't entirely accurate. Raph, too, is learning that he can be accepted and he can grow, and he's smoothing out a little. This lesson is actually a false lesson the couple are learning the truth about - "History may convince you there are only worse days ahead, but when you least expect it, you can find yourself escaping the dark times and stepping into the light."

  -  Finally, Purple and Grey - Amber O'Brien. Amber is, shall we say, the unintentional "problem child" of the story - she's had some massive issues to work through from her old life, and her new life has repeatedly tried to kill her, both with drama and with violence. Part of that struggle has been connected to her PTSD and phobia of rain and her fight to conquer them. Her first year in this new world has been a nightmare, both for her and Donatello, but things will be looking up soon for both of them. Demons can be conquered, emotional wounds can heal, and even completely hopeless cases like Amber and Donnie can get past their troubles in time. This lesson is one Amber and Donnie both learned years ago but are having to re-learn all over again - "Sometimes in life, the onslaught seems unending, and it can make you want to give up; don't give up - wait - on the other side of that rainstorm is a blue sky waiting to be discovered."

I hope y'all like this piece, since my fingers and wrists sacrificed themselves for it, and I hope everyone's having a good summer.

[genngraymane]

America: Really THAT Bad? (spoilers btw)

BEFORE:

It’s been a while since I read anything Marvel in the last few years. I think I stopped reading around the time of Marvel Now! because I was too focused on DC’s New 52 at the time (plus I took a break from comics around that time shortly after). So aside from the few issues of Young Avengers I’ve read years ago, I know nothing about this character. Obviously, I’ve heard some polarizing things about this book, but I’m still pretty excited to see what the hubub’s all about. One thing I remember loving about Marvel was their teen heroes. Hopefully America rekindles the things I missed from Marvel.

AFTER:

Okay so I just finished the first 7 issues. Overall it wasn’t the horribly unbearable experience my buddies kept warning me about. No where near as offensively bad as they made it out to be. If anything my only gripe with the book is that it’s rather forgettable. With the exception of Kate, America’s supporting cast feel like they’re just background pieces with speech bubbles. Her girlfriend didn’t do anything aside from filling in a damsel in distress role. Her parents and Grandmother really only serve as plot-devices, and the rest the students of Sotomayor don’t really do anything except gush over America’s self-imposed greatness.

And it really is a shame, because Rivera introduces some really cool concepts like the interdimensional schooling of Sotomayor and the cosmic origins of Planeta Fuertona. There’s some really cool wacky Sci-Fi stuff in this book, and I’m pretty sure if that was the focus of the book then I would have enjoyed it a lot more. But unfortunately that’s not the case because the main focus of this book is also one of the things I can’t stand about it.

THE ROMANCE.

Oh my God is America an asshole to her girlfriend. If there is anything I can’t stand about romance, it’s needless drama. And holy shit, Rivera did not hold back from it. This is the first appearance of Lisa, one of America’s love interests.

I’m sorry, WHAT??? You’re not going to tell me jack about our MC’s love-interest and then break them off in just TWO PAGES? I’m generally used to teen drama bullshit like this from other teen hero books (I have Johns’ Teen Titans to thank for that), but this sequence here is just too much for me to ignore. We don’t know anything about Lisa aside from being America’s girlfriend, so that’s all she ends up being, and America just breaks things off and leaves before they even have a legitimate conversation? And America’s acting as if she’s in the right? This sets up every interaction we see between these two as needless melodrama. And that’s exactly what it becomes in later issues. There’s all but one scene of America showing remorse for dumping this chick, but then America acts like the victim again in a later issue with Storm.

Like, what is your damage, America? You’re the one who broke up with her and left in a fit but then you say shit like “SHE SENT ME AWAY” as if we’re supposed to sympathize with you throwing that necklace at her. And when Lisa finally shows up again, they act as if they spoke and came to terms, but this is the first and last time we ever see these two actually speaking to each other anyway, so what was the point?

America’s other love interest is an actual character this time around in the sense that she’s actually involved in the story, but when Magdalena is introduced, it’s almost as if Rivera forgot about the first love interest.

Either America has amnesia, or Lisa never gave America flowers, which probably puts America in the right for breaking up with her. I’d be pretty upset if my girlfriend never gave me flowers. What was the point of all this? Why didn’t Rivera just start with Magdalena as the badass action-girl love interest instead of having us deal with the damsel in distress bullshit from the non-character that was Lisa during the Chavez Guerrillas arc?

I think all of my gripes with the romance in here comes from a combination of two different things regarding this book. One is that nearly every character in this book has NOTHING going on with them. The other is that America is painfully unlikable in this.

I think the introduction of Sotomayor was pretty awesome. Rivera introduced us to a setting with a lot of potential for crazy, dimension hopping adventures while providing the framework of introducing new characters within a self contained story similar to that of Hero Academia or Avengers Academy. If America’s badly written relationships were at the background of the series while introducing a diverse, well-written cast that interacts almost exclusively with America through the school setting, then yes, I think this book would have won me over. But that’s not the case because nearly every student in Sotomayer doesn’t do anything meaningful to the story or help America progress as a character. How the hell do you have a character like freaking Prodigy on the sidelines with nothing insightful to say? They were on the same team before this! Even America’s parents, the main reason she became a hero, are constantly glossed over in this book until the reveal of her Grandmother. 

Speaking of this page here, why did Madrimar even wait to reveal herself to America until now? It’s not like anything was stopping her during all the time she spent at Sotomayor.

A lot of people I’ve talked to about this book says Rivera was trying too hard. In my opinion, she didn’t try hard enough. I know a bunch of people gave this writer shit for coming off as too preachy, but expressing positivity through diversity is a core part if America’s character and the reality we live in. The only problem I see with her writing regarding this is that it the way she portrays America makes it difficult. Rivera’s America just shouts out slogans and gets confrontational with anyone that challenges her way of thinking. America needs to be put in a situation where expressing her cultural and sexual identity isn’t accentuated through punching things while preaching about how awesome she is and getting constant validation from background characters (the prep-school cyborg fight is a jarring example). 

One of the only characters I actually liked in this book was Kate. She actually acts like she’s in the story. She talks to America about her problems, consoles her in times of need, and is generally a blast to have in this book.

With the exception of Magdalena, Kate is the only person in this book that America actually approaches like a civil human being. America doesn’t get all up in her face and throw snarky insults at her like she does with nearly everyone else. Kate is one of the only characters here that can actually get America to feel like a person instead of some impregnable brick wall. And Kate is actually involved in America’s story! She has presence! But the more I read about these two in here the more I notice Rivera was just queer-baiting them for no reason.

Like, we get Kate’s into her. But if Rivera had real control over this, why didn’t she just start things off with Kate as the friends with benefits into girlfriends angle? Why have us go through all the damsels in distress and generic femme fatale action girls in America’s life instead of a popular established character like Kate Bishop? They have a history together, so it wouldn’t be unbelievable at all. This book focuses so much on romance but never has its priorities straight on who these people are to America. It only seems to care who America is to them. And tbh I think that’s the core issue of Rivera’s America.

This is the first page of the book, and it got me super excited. I thought the approach Rivera was going to go was make America relevant not only as a hero but as a symbol. I thought this book would highlight the importance of expressing pride in diversity while expressing how America represents that pride and what that means to the people around her. I thought it would have been akin to All-Star Superman’s approach of finding the balance between the symbol and the person while struggling to understand what that might mean to the people of the world. But instead any concept of that constantly gets sidelined by the badly written melodrama bullshit all across this book. It just always stops me from getting into this.

Now if I’m not mistaken, this book is canceled at issue 12, so at some point I’ll go back and finish the last couple issues, but honestly I could see why this book got canceled. Rivera has some really cool concepts in this book, but falls short on the execution on multiple levels. Hopefully they bring America back with a new creative team because there is some cool stuff here and I don’t want it all to just disappear. Maybe even keep Rivera and give her a co-writer to help?

[amadisonfxo]

Sixteen

In so many movies, books and songs, so many people speak so highly of sixteen. I think they’re right, let me tell you, whoever you may be, a little bit about my experience with the infamous 16. You’re in the sweet spot of being a teenager, you are not supposed to be grown yet, you’re old enough to know better, you’re able to start to maybe get your shit together, to an extent. you know??

First of all, You can drive? (Maybe not well but, I can drive) Like alone and shit, oh? Last time I checked I was literally 12 but cool! Personally never thought I’d see this day, considering I got pulled over at age 14, all while smacking the curb, Dad had no license on him and neither did i, very on brand for us. I am quite literally my father in the form of a female. I Didn’t start learning how to drive until about 2 months before my road test. the day of my test on july 2nd 2019,  my mom convinced me that I ruined her life, and the day before I spoke to child services about my home life for the second time in my life, how traumatic! I Hit the curb on my parallel park and missed the turn for my hill park and never even ended up doing it? it was a 4pm road test so Brent or whatever his name was probably was tired and wanted to go home so he passed me even though I don’t think I met the good driver standards but, I for one, am not complaining! getting my vehicle was pivotal. I’m not even being dramatic, pivotal. The amount of falling in love and falling apart that has gone on in there over the last year?? A little embarrassing to say the least:) I wouldn’t love my life like I do without it, or have made it through some bad, hard times. Including! A global fucking pandemic?? School was cancelled, boyfriend Deadass broke up with me just about 2 days before, Double wtf??? Honestly what happened?? and that’s for real. that was my biggest thing when I turned the big one six was that I could finally finally, listen to whatever music I wanted, as loud as I wanted because lord knows, Shelley didn’t quite appreciate “teenage dream” at a blast, at 8am, as much as I did. i appreciate every small drive, the ones to school, to dance, to work, to the rink, to the gym, i always make the perfect small soundtrack for my drive. especially through the beginning of covid and a breakup, it was a life saver, i may have gone actually insane if i couldnt speed and and scream down every empty long road i could find after every long day of nothing.

 i pay for my own vehicle, every month a chunk comes out of my account, that is something i pride myself on, i cant wait until the day that im able to be completely self sufficient, even now, for the most part, I am. 

16 consisted of a lot of finding myself and realizing who I am in my relationships, with my family, with my friends and with my boyfriend. i am able to fully say that I am nowhere near, at all, the perfect best friend, or sister, daughter, step daughter, girlfriend, student, dancer, and all that. But everyday i dreamed up ways i was able to be that for the people around me, its been slow, but i’ve been making progress. as much as everyone drives me up a wall for throwing rocks at every move i make, they might be right, so i cant help but try to chnage and be better all the time.

 i realized my family is not the same as me, and as dumb as it sounds, i HATE being told i cant do something or that i HAVE to do something, i hate people who cant go with the flow, people who don’t trust me (cough cough mom) although, she has many valid reasons to not trust me, i still don’t like that she doesnt trust me,. my least favorite thing in the world is being told no. i really hope i navigate that flaw before i get a taste of the real world.

 i learned that i live to scream music, for a night out with my friends, for laying in the sun and that reading gets me through my hardest hours, writing is my therapy, dancing is my therapy. when i am happy all i wanna do is keep doing fun things. Reading, dance and my other forms of therapy never seem necessary until I am having a tough time. which is fair i suppose but i wish they were a daily habit.

 my whole year of 16 i spent falling in love, trying to get out of it and then navigating a new relationship, all with one person, which is all ive ever wanted. ive always wanted to find somebody that I love and that I can give everything I have to. everyone is different, some people like to give to themselves, others like to be in love and have help, love, be taken care of and build a new form of family, a best friend. i find i am that person. and i love it so much.

 i loved, i lost, i literally got to my lowest ever but then came up and learned every piece of my soul, that sounds painfully dramatic but its so true. i truly believe i am so incredibly strong, but so loving and soft.i finally fully believe i am enough, i am worth and deserving of everything i want and need, just like everybody else. i am my favorite person. nobody can replace me, I will always be here for myself, i always try to give myself the world. i learned that at 16. the beginning was hard, i thought being weak and being a pushover was just who i was and that crying every night was cool and that it was just how my life was gonna be, but you truly are everything you set your mind out to be. if you believe you are the absolute hottest bitch on this planet, Guest what??? you'll start to act accordingly. it feels good, to finally understand that you have to be so happy and confident on your own that being with somebody is just that much better, its tough, but so perfect. 

some cool things i did at 16, bought my vehicle, sorry to flex again. paid off a whole ass greece trip, that got cancelled eventually. missed out on my second and my second last dance competition season. started coaching figure skating. learned a hip hop dance (nice)  got my first solos, something ive been waiting for since the dance moms days. the first song i listened to in my car while driving alone was “american teen” by khalid. learned my brain. loved my life fully. learned how to get through hard days. slow danced with the loml in my living room. went camping with mans. created a little life of my own with cb. ill never get over how sweet and caring and smart. he is. i justv love my life, my friends and myself. so much. 

16 was something ive been waiting for. I have huge dreams. 

[mmakehappy]

2017

1. What did you do in 2017 that you’d never done before? i’ll try to do this chronologically again: so at the beginning of january one of my best friends left to study abroad in rome which was sad and i missed her a lot. i saw rory scovel do stand up. i took an animation class which was fun for the first few weeks until i failed it lmao. actually my classes from jan to march did not go so well tbh but whatever i made it through. my sister came to visit me the weekend before st paddys day which was super fun and then we saw panic which was soooooooo fuckin rad i love them still wow! i went home for spring break and visited a local winery w my dad which was a lot of fun and then a week later uhhh me and @carrot-gallery became gfs!!! and my whole frickin life changed bc i love her so much wow!! but then a week after that i turned 22 and spent my birthday alone! which i tried to pretend didnt make me sad but by the end of the day i was very sad about it and thats when my sweet gf called me to sing happy birthday and i sobbed on my couch and ill never forget that!!! so okay then spring quarter classes started and i was a part of depaul’s visiting artist series which was super cool... i met a lot of new awesome people (both at depaul and the industry ppl that were our guests!) and made some great friends in that class! i was a house manager and camera op which was super fun. i went to a screening of my fave professor’s short film which was also rad. i saw a ghost story at the chicago critics film festival, which was amazing. i saw idiocracy in 35mm and then mike judge did a q&a! the very next day i was house manager for depaul’s student film festival at the music box! i saw chris gethard do a live recording of beautiful/anonymous and then also do some standup, that was awesome. i saw day wave live!!! amazing! i spent an entire dystopian day dealing with megabus. that was hell! i sat at an outdoor amphitheater and even tho i couldnt really see him i got to listen to seu jorge sing david bowie covers and life was magical for a few hours. my sisters came up to visit me and we saw aladdin the musical and had our minds blown, it was soooo fun! i went to the chicago pride parade for the very first time but i went by myself and at one point i was sitting on the curb just crying! not a high point but still memorable. i won a ticket to an advanced screening of the big sick where kumail & emily were there to do a q&a after the movie.... had a fuckin blast OBVIOUSLY and then saw the movie 9 other times in various theatres. i also made it into a commercial FOR the movie i just loved it that much lmao! i moved into a new (and my current) apartment! lorde released melodrama and fucking murdered me in my own home. otherwise i had a pretty uneventful but anxiety filled summer bc of financial aid stuff so that really sucked. i saw good time w taylor and the safdie brothers were there to do a q&a and they were such interesting guys i could listen to them talk for hours honestly. my mom and sisters came up to visit me and we took our mom to her very first cubs game which was sooo so much fun and they won that day too!! it was awesome and we had a great time :) watched the eclipse (or tried to anyway!!) fall quarter classes started and i honestly kicked ass at them, i got on the deans list (i almost typed honor roll lmao i mean its basically the same) i hung out with ari again which was cool!! we went to the aquarium! me and taylor saw beach fossils which was honestly the most buckwild concert ive ever been to i think, it was good shit. i got jobs at AMC (which i have since quit lmao) and starbucks and left my job at the paint place which was bittersweet! me and taylor saw mbmbam live!!! so fun!! and we watched trolls that night and goofed on it so hard!! i went home for thanksgiving and found out my big sister is gonna have a baby this year!! :D i saw mike birbiglia do stand up! which was soooo incredible of course (except i felt bad bc my mom was supposed to come w me but she couldnt go! so i brought taylor lol) UMMMMM MY DAM GIRLFRIEND CAME TO CHICAGO TO VISIT ME AND STAYED FOR A WHOLE DANG WEEK AND IT WAS THE BEST THING EVER SHE MAKES ME SO HAPPY WE HAD SO MUCH FUN AND I MISS HAVING HER RIGHT NEXT TO ME EVERY SINGLE GOSH DANG DAY <3 ;_____; and that was my year!!

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? last year i said id like to read at least one book each month and watch at least 100 movies - i did neither! im keeping the movie resolution though bc cmon 100 movies should be EASY for a film major wtf am i doing!

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? no but it will happen in 2018! 

4. Did anyone close to you die? not a person but we had to put down my sweet doggo, flash :(

5. What countries did you visit? still none :/

6. What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017? More confidence that I actually deserve to be in college and that I can do this shit and I’m awesome <– that was my answer from last year and the year before but yeah. same. also money.

7. What dates from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? ummm march 25 when me and gf became gfs and also dec 17 when she came to visit :)

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? putting myself out there by doing VAS/Premiere, getting on the deans list for the first time since freshman year and then also getting a new job

9. What was your biggest failure? this summer i didnt do shit besides wallow and cry and it sucked!

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? nope

11. What was the best thing you bought? every movie ticket and the bras i bought for natalie ;-)

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? natalie’s because she’s amazing and works so hard!!!! and she can always cheer me up and im so in love w her

13. Whose behavior made you appalled? mine bc i could never just get my shit together and do my homework when i was supposed to :) < thats from last year but lmfao same!

14. Where did most of your money go? RENT, movie/event tix, food, in that order

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? THE BIG SICK, the new season of sv, p much all of the events that i listed in the first question lol

16. What song will always remind you of 2017? umm honestly probably any song from melodrama

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer? I’m a. happier, b. probably thinner? or maybe the same idk, and c. definitely DEFINITELY poorer

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? read and write and watch movies and write and read about movies

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Spending money and also being bitter about everything for no reason <– last year and the year before that AGAIN and also same!

20. How did you spend Christmas? working at AMC which i hated every second of :)

21. Did you fall in love in 2016? yes with my amazing girlfriend @carrot-gallery

22. What was your favorite TV program? silicon valley, AMERICAN VANDAL, the good place, great british bake off

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? nah just politicians who like. actively want me to die lol

24. What was the best book you read? bitch,

25. What was your greatest musical discovery? mitski like why the fuck did i sleep on her..... tbh thats about it bc i still listen to the same music i did 10 years ago

26. What did you want and get? I wanted a steadier/better paying job and i have it!

27. What did you want and not get? idk i wanted to be financially stable on my own and i still dont have that

28. What was your favorite film of this year? ugh i hate this question! ok in no order: THE BIG SICK, GOOD TIME, A GHOST STORY, GET OUT, THE FLORIDA PROJECT

29. What one thing made your year immeasurably more satisfying? uhhh having my sweet girlfriend by my side each and every day 

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017? sometimes chic, always sweaty

31. What kept you sane? Sydney, my best friend in the entire world. (This was my answer from last year and the year before that and the year before that AND THE YEAR BEFORE THAT but it still holds true) also everyone in the sv discord chat still AND natalie of course of course

32. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? kumail nanjiani duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, taika waititi, and martin starr always and probably more but i legit cant think of anyone rn lol

33. What political issue stirred you the most? yikes all of it. all of the issues (this was from last year but same lmao)

34. Who did you miss? i miss my dogs and my family and my girlfriend 35. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2017. You can set goals for yourself and talk about it all you want but it’s nothing until you actually start working towards it and doing something about it. <– answer from last year and the year before that and the year before that, still true!! imma keep that. also idk just like, there are good days and super bad days and ive survived all of them so its just a reminder to myself that ill be okay.

36. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year. These days will all seem better in time Waiting on that hindsight

[itbeajen]

Sweet on the Inside | Bakugou Katsuki

i. appreciation "Hey, excuse me?" your voice caused Midoriya to turn, and upon making eye contact you asked, "Your pastries and cakes.. they're all made fresh here right?" Midoriya nods eagerly, and he smiled, "Our pâtissier makes it every morning." Is that so? The smile on your face makes Midoriya curious, and you responded, "I see. Please let them know their pastries are absolutely divine." Your eyes twinkled with unadulterated adoration and Midoriya couldn't say no to that request. Not like he was going to. As he made his way to the kitchen in the back, without any hesitation he softly announced, "Kacchan, someone really likes your pastries!" "Shut up, Deku." Bakugou immediately grumbled. It wasn't the usual explosive response, but of course it wasn't. Despite his demeanor, Bakugou had a reputation to uphold. Of course my pastries are the fucking best. I've learned to make them to satisfy even the pickiest eaters. But the smirk that rises on his features doesn't conceal the pride that swells at the apparent appreciation.

ii. oblivious "You know, there's this coffee shop that has really good pastries," you offhandedly commented to your housemate. The latter scoffs and he grumbled, "No one's pastries are better than mine." You nodded in agreement, sampling his new creation and the new brew of tea he made. You looked up from the fluffy dessert and you mentioned, "Now that I think about it, it kind of tastes like yours." At this, Bakugou flared to the comment, and he glared at you. You held your hands up in defense, and you added, "Yours are still the best though Kacchan, after all, they're the not too sweet and not too bland. It's just right." "Damn right," he grumbled. And then muttered, "Blasted coffee shops are fucking everywhere." "Mm, I think this one's family run though. It's the one across the street." If you weren't so enticed by the delicious fragrance of the earl gray chiffon cake, you wouldn't have missed the look of pure shock on his face. But he quickly brushes it off and thanks the gods that you were so oblivious as to not recognize his pastries despite living with him for all these years. But a very small part of him is still flabbergasted by the fact that even after all these years, you still can't recognize his pastries. Who the fuck do you think is the reason I'm a pâtissier. iii. tea time "Hm, no, I just.. she looks familiar," Midoriya mumbled. And Todoroki shrugged, "Probably another regular." "No, no, this is her second visit," Midoriya immediately answered, and then muttered, "I think I've seen her somewhere else before, but I can't-" "Oi, Deku, take this out to table #17," Bakugou grumbled as he looked out from the door way connecting the kitchen and bar area. Midoriya and Todoroki glanced at the cake, and the latter commented, "This isn't on the menu." "No shit," Bakugou scoffed and then grumbled, "Just give it to them." Midoriya handed it to Todoroki and Bakugou quickly added, "Tell them it's a thank you for their compliments last visit." He disappeared back into the kitchen and Midoriya's eyes widened. Kacchan knew it was that girl? How?! But he says and does nothing as Todoroki approaches your table. With grace and skill, the dual haired male gently plated the chiffon cake neatly on your table. You watched with increasing interest in the small detailed movements of how he had set the chiffon cake so neatly, and arranged it with the napkin and the utensils, that it almost didn't hit you that, well, you didn't order that. "I.. didn't order this," you softly whispered, and he gives you a polite smile and answered, "Every Tuesday we have a tea-time special between 4 to 6 pm. This is on the house for all our staying customers." "Ah," you gently smiled and mumbled, "Thank you." "Of course," he responded. He made his way back to the bar and asked, "Midoriya, is there a problem?" "I really do think I know her. I just-" "Deku, stop your muttering, shut up, and just plate these damn desserts already," Bakugou ordered from the kitchen. The blond haired male didn't want anyone to know. Heck, he'd do everything in his power to prevent everyone else from noticing, but gods forbid you from not noticing. It's been too many fucking years. Hurry up. iv. specialty "Kacchan," you cooed from the couch as he got home. He grunts a response, but drops his stuff at the edge of the cough before flopping onto it from the other side. You barely moved your feet in time before dropping them onto his lap. His glare does nothing to make you move them off. He looks so tired today. You duly noted his more haggard appearance and then sat up. He furrowed his brows at your close proximity, but does nothing but stare back at your warm hues. It was times like these where he could blatantly stare at you and you wouldn't notice a single thing, because damn, if there's anyone that's as dumb as a brick, it had to be you. But she's not actually stupid. She's just stupid when it comes to love. He rolls his eyes and scoffs before looking away. If he had lost himself anymore in those bright orbs of yours, he would have gone insane. "Or maybe you're not that tired at all if you still have the energy to scoff at me," you muttered to yourself. His gaze returns to you, it's not as hard as before, and definitely not as hardened and antagonizing as when you were kids, but then again, his gaze for you was always different. You were about to recline back onto the couch, but the smell of sweets that lingered on his clothing made you lean forward instead. "[F/N], what the fuck are you doing? Sniffing me? Are you a dog now?" he growled as he pushed your head away by placing his palm on your forehead. You grumbled and whined, "You smell like cookies and cakes, Kacchan! Did you go to a bakery without me?" "Fuck no, what are you even talking about?!" he growled and then shoved you back onto the couch. You weakly glared at him from the couch and then asked, "Did you bring anything back?" "No." "Wow, rude." you rolled your eyes and then sat back up, this time using his thighs as leverage to pull you up to him. His eyes widened slightly at the close intimacy and then you asked, "Hey, make me that cake again." His red eyes burned with defiance and you added, "You said it was your specialty right? Come on, indulge in your childhood friend a bit." He wanted to say no. But he really couldn't, not when the reason why he was even working at a god damn coffee shop making desserts was because of you. He pushed you away, and muttered, "Go help me set up." The bright smile that radiated on your face was brighter than any firework that could have been created. And the swell of pride knowing that it was only because of him made his already soft spot for you grow even softer. v. dense Your co-worker sat across from you and asked, "[L/N]-senpai.. really order all of these on your own?" She pointed at the empty plates that slowly began to pile up and you shook your head, "No, it's on the house apparently." Her eyes widened and she asked, "Really now?" "Yeah, some tea time special on Tuesdays," you idly responded before returning to clacking away on your laptop. The sound of your keyboard keys signified progress to you, and you sighed before asking, "Why are you here though?" "Boyfriend works here," she laughed and then nodded her head in the direction of the cheerful red-head and you mumbled, "I see." "You should get one, or is it because you're still living with your childhood friend in your shared apartment?" "Oh shush," you laughed, "Kacchan and I get along great, it's why I can actually survive living with him for all these years. And plus, he never sleeps in or whatever, so I end up waking up when he does." You fondly shook your head, but the light in your eyes dulls and you muttered, "Him and his ridiculous screaming and cursing at bacteria to die in the morning is a wonderful alarm." "Is that so?" your co-worker laughed, and then got out of her seat and said, "I'll see you later, Eiji's off work now so." "Yeah, bye," you waved and then propped your elbow up to rest your head on your hands. A boyfriend, huh? I've been so busy with work and trying to get my life together that I kind of forget. Your mind flickers to Bakugou and you mumbled, "Not like I can get one with that boy around anyways." Ah, but... You stop your thoughts and stare at the earl grey chiffon cake that sat neatly before you. For some reason the idea of being with Katsuki for the rest of my life doesn't sound all that bad. Unknown to you, Midoriya had overheard most of the conversation and he couldn't help but walk towards the kitchen and ask, "Kacchan, do you know a [L/N]-san?" He watched the muscles in his childhood friend's arms twitch and then slightly flinches upon seeing the glare and anger emitting from the ash blonde male. But to his surprise, Bakugou doesn't lash out, and instead, his gaze softens as he turns to the new cake that he was working on. Midoriya lets out a small sigh, and a fond smile is on his face and he waves off his comment, "Forget I said anything." As soon as Midoriya leaves, Bakugou sighed and grumbled, "Why the fuck do I like that idiot anyways?" But instead, he glances down at the cake, and after he finished plating it himself, he walked out the kitchen, holding it proudly and ignoring his coworkers. "Kacchan?" Midoriya called out, but the ash blonde male ignores him and he walks up to your table and sets it down. You barely register his presence prior to him setting it down, but as you turn to thank him, your brain momentarily shuts off and you sputtered, "K-Katsuki?" "What's with that damn reaction?" he grumbled. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and you looked at his outfit before looking at the cake. And it suddenly hits you that the reasons why these pastries and desserts were so palatable to your tastes was because it was his. "Oh my god," you muttered and then looked at the cake and back at him and he scowled, "Why are you so fucking dense?" "Oh yes, I'm totally supposed to know that my best friend is working at a coffee shop. You told me you hated baking!" you immediately retorted, and then regretted how loud you were. Bakugou realized it too and then sat down before you and the two of you sat their in silence, muttered, "I only baked because of you, dumbass." vi. stupid Bakugou woke up tired, but he also woke up slightly confused because he doesn't remember the mornings being this damn hot. But when he tries to sit up, the weight of you on his chest makes him realize the heat wasn't from the sun, but rather you. He groans and instead of pushing you off, he rolls you over until he's facing you and pulls you flush against him. Maybe too hard, because he hears a whine from you and you mumbled a good morning against him before snuggling against him again. "It's hot, get off." "No," you whined and then muttered, "Why did I agree to date you?" "Because your dumb ass was crying over me." "My dumb ass was not crying over you," you rolled your eyes and then pushed away enough to look at him. Your hand gently cupped his cheek, and you mumbled, "Thanks." "[F/N], why the f-" But you cut him off with a small peck on his lips and your lips ghosted over his when you finished, "For always being so sweet to me." "God damn it, [F/N]," he looked away. And you giggled, because despite his off putting demeanor, he was much sweeter on the inside.

[fortheloveofcringe]

For the past six months I have just been on a ride where I extract the very best and worst of what I have, put it in a wall, examine what will propel me to a better future and make elaborate quick choices that taught me that life is more than just examining it. Although Socrates had said that a life unexamined is a life not worth living, I also found out that there is much freedom with a life that is just lived and not constantly questioned. I live my life wondering about the what’s and the if’s and I honestly have figured out a lot of things but none of the  stays in my head for extended periods of time. All of my realities at the very moment they are happening are shaped by my exact reaction and opinions about it and dare I say my life has been a shit mess because I’ve always pictured it as  a shit mess. When I came to that PRIDE activity where I posed as a living book and shared my life story, I made a conscious decision about how I approach my life from that point forward. I made sure that I will never be defined by the rejections that I will face and called my book “Turning Sorry’s to Thank You’s”  kind of like a little nod to Ariana’s Thank You, Next.

 When I backtrack, I’m always sorry about being myself when I shouldn’t be. I have always felt guilty even for the things that I shouldn’t even feel guilty about (I honestly feel like anyone can frame me for murder because I would sweat a lot just by being accused.) Anyhow, it’s just how I lived I have always been my own support system, with a  sprinkle of Mom and brother’s love, but ultimately, I try my very best not rely on other people. But that’s not what I figured out this year. I figured out that there is more to life than just cracking the equation and believing yourself. Sometimes you have to make sure you talk slower, and listen harder. You have to look around, not questioning things, but making sure you absorb enough reality so that you wouldn’t make-up some scenarios in your head that you worry about for at least 5 hours later after 12 in the midnight.

 Right now, I’m glad that I’m able enough again to write this journal here on tumblr because my last post, damn, I was ready for sweet death, which by the way I am and will always be, I think that’s my edge amongst my age group. I have accomplished enough to understand that reputations and lifeways have very distinct characteristics that affect my super conscious  perception of my exact self, in a society orchestrated by government systems, traditions and religion that I have always complained about, which by the way, I should just ignore because, well, life is a heck more fun than focusing on the things I can’t actually control. There is much more power in accepting the range of your capabilities more than believing a delusion that will just upset you in the end, or have an upset stomach for in the end, as latest experience says.

 This is about my body and my mental chemistry. I have always made sure that I am not body negative or body positive, I was just neutral, like I’m not cheering for what I have and degrading what I have, I was just, I just respected what I have always had. But my recent experience about an ex who was always conscious about his macho exterior had me thinking if I needed to be macho as well to be accepted in the society. I have a full understanding that money figures are mightier than physical figures and you don’t need a hot body to be hot, you just need a perfect bank account to be a trophy, but I just figured, why can’t I have both?

 But then earlier this week I just had a run at some hospitals and it was disappointing for the first one but quite a relief for the second hospital that we went through. The first hospital had very problematic and almost scary people working on it. Here are a few things they’ve done during my stay in the emergency room:

 1.      Blasted Camila and Shawn’s Seniorita while people are dying in the E.R. talking about how concerned they are for Shawn’s social anxiety than US who are in their immediate contact.

2.      They have an off-putting way of asking questions which will make you feel like you are lying about your condition even if you can literally see blood dripping on the floor from your body.

3.      Talk bout death of other celebrities while PEOPLE ARE DYING IN FRONT OF THEM. HEY.

4.      They keep asking me as to when my mother would arrive, which translated to me at that moment as “Can your mom pick you up, we don’t want to serve a lot of people here.”

5.      HAD SNACKS AND ALL TYPE OF SHIT FOOD IN THE E.R.

6.      One of the witchy Doctors was just so bitchy she had to remind my mom later in the evening in a very SARCASTIC WAY when we returned that I refused to be confined in their hospital so they can’t accept us ad we have to be reffered and that such is a long LONG process (which in translation is, we can’t serve you). WELL OF COURSE I REFUSED TO BE CONFINED BECAUSE I’M CRAZY AND I WANT TO DIE. She  needs to know that I refused because I have observed them well enough specially with their very unwelcoming way of handling patients that I can’t put my self under their care.

7.      Puncture my body twice for IV after making an error in my vein. Nothing too concerning.

8.      The same witch Doctor said these things on the course of my stay: “I’m gonna die in this place” “People can’t demand quality service from us because we don’t get quality service ourselves. Even us doctors have to get in lines and shit.” “I feel sorry for Shawn Mendes for having social Anxiety.”

 Now the second hospital I gotta make sure that when I become successful, I have to donate equipment in their facilities because they did me a solid. RTR hospital is the best. It was a choice of which hospital was nearest and both where nearby. So anyway, this hospital did me a solid. Here are a few things they’ve done:

 1.      Ran a helpful assessment to my condition with careful tones acknowledging the fact that there was something wrong with me as opposed to the other hospital which assumed stuff.

2.      Reviewed my medical history CAREFULLY.

3.      Assisted us in our laboratory tests (which was yes, recommended by the other hospital but damn they were just so ready to kick us out that I wasn’t feeling staying for laboratories in their facility for that long.)

4.      Reviewed my prescribed medicines and filled out EXACT times and dates for intake WITHOUT RAISING EYEBROWS.

5.      Allowed us to ask questions and responded without being sarcastic. Professional Vibes only.

6.      Compared to the other hospital, they were able to NAME what was wrong with me which was actually Abdominal Discomfort. Damn I have been waiting for that. I just wanted to know what’s wrong with my body.

7.      Compared to the other hospital, they were serving a lot of patients that night (the other one was just serving at lest three people and their doctors are already shouting I’d ie in here!” not to mention they have high tech equipment and a full nurse force) and they still remained calm and helpful.

8.      They pretty much had an awesome Doctor and Nurse force that night, shoutout to the hand some nurse who I kept taking a peek at when I was looking like a bag of shit on the E.R. bed, I guess flirting doesn’t have a time.

9.      I was fixed. I mean thank God I’m making this right now because of them

 Ultimately what I want you to take from this is that everything is a reciprocation. If you’re a doctor or a nurse who cusses out, rejects people or whatever, your gonna get the same rejection from your patients. If you give out hate, you receive hate, if your give out lies, you receive lies, I think that should be a golden rule in everything that we do. If you harbour negative energy, that same energy will whip you right back because when we came to that first hospital I remember giving the doctor who spoke to my mom in a very pointed tone the death stare after she gave me a left eyebrow. Anyway.

 Also, if you do good to other people good stuff will come back to you. now I do pledge that if I make my first million from my youtube account, I’m going to donate some equipment to RTR hospital for saving me. I went home that evening feeling like angels carried me home even if I was limping from a bad stomach.

 What I’m trying to relay here also  from that long intro about my body is that I fucked up my body by eating less these past few months. I thought the best hack to lose weight was not to gain weight at all. The trend is intermittent fasting and boy do I say the internet is still not the most credible source for everything.

 When I broke up with my ex, I had a revenge plan of making my self look like one of the boys he was drooling endlessly for on instagram; macho muscular guys who sound like bats when they talk. Anyway, shade aside, I figured one common pattern from them. It was sourced from a deep form of social anxiety that they rip and shred their bodies from pimple insuding protein shakes and rigid muscle enhancing work-outs just so they would feel accepted, and I get it, there is nothing more hot than being objectified by a low life as what they say, but it just didn’t feel right to me that I would shave off the outside just so I could start shaving in the inside. But I still tried. No harm on that, well there is. When it’s done in the wrong way.

 I got sent to a hospital for abdominal discomfort from a very weird diet. I eat, I don’t eat, then I do something which I will call, “tickle my throat” but not in a sexual way, more like a very bad idea of making sure I don’t gain weight by having a controlled mechanic of what stays in my body and what goes out. Some people call it bulimia, I call it being a master of my own universe.

 SO I tried that, and again, it just didn’t seem right. The food I was wasting, or the food I was holding myself back from enjoying. The stupid videos I watch on Youtube about how to be a perfect human wasn’t striking a cord. One of my instructors and ex-classmates have notified my that my ex was looking shredded lately and boy I just wanted to punch them. I didn’t need that. I need no reminder of how I’m failing in the body department. I get it.

 But looking from a Google Earth view, this is what I came to see.

 I saw myself changing my way of interpreting new information. Everything is suddenly a mind exercise on how I would react to a certain info and acknowledging my behaviour about it. Now this is much more important to me more than just having a hot body. New information became new habits.

 I can’t elaborate on how I do it, some of us have a distinct and unique way of mastering our soul lessons but right now, I’m just very happy with how I can look at myself in the mirror and say, I love and accept you exactly as you are.

 There is no baggage of doubt or whatsoever. It’s like I finally ran out of excuses not to love myself and everything is just a growth opportunity. All I can say is wherever you are, I want to remind you that our lives are programmed in way for us to combat in peacefully. We have to have that internal battle so that we can manifest it in our outside world. Because people think it’s the other way around.

 When really, the glow is from within.

[escailyyy]

A grandaughter's problem

“Ah so there’s my little lightsaber, come to visit your old granddaddy eh?” Obiwan Kenobi huffed wheeling his wheelchair down the hall of his retirement haven, towards the angry form of his most rebellious granddaughter Kira, rolling his eyes at her revealing clothes he raised an eyebrow in the way only a retired member of the Special Joined, Equanimity Division of Intelligence (J.E.D.I) order could “you just missed Rey and Daisy, who by the way had a very interesting piece of gossip to share”

“Daisy and Rey don’t know anything” Kira snapped crossing her arms over her scantily clad chest, taking in his subtle chastisement and making a beeline for Obiwan’s linen closet, emerging minutes later clad in one of her grandfather’s old black Jedi Council tunics and sweatpants three sizes too big “they need to stay out of my bloody life, what gives them the right to butt in?”

“So, you haven’t been receiving flowers for a whole week in a row coupled with Slayer CD’s?” Grandfather Kenobi wondered raising an eyebrow “and you haven’t been refusing to let them read the cards that come with said gifts?” Wheeling himself to the adjacent kitchen Obiwan reached for the ever-boiling kettle that was a hallmark of the Kenobi household “have some tea Kira”

“FINE, I’ll tell you…but only because you’re you and because you’re not being a pain in the ass like Tweedle Dee Dee and Tweedle Dee Dum” Kira accepted the tea with a grudging smile and groaned “Gramps I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me!! I swear one minute I’m fine, going about my life, punching the crap out of my competition in the ring and one minute I’m not and then everything goes bloody sideways, and it’s all my stupid fault for saving Ben’s life”

“Kira, calm down, I assume it’s a long story yes?”

“Of course it is arghhh I just want to punch the bloody asshole”

“Start with the beginning, why did you have to save Ben’s life?”

Obiwan sighed, he often told himself had done a good job with the girls, Luke and Leia could vouch for that, after surviving the fall of the Emperor’s drug empire and with Anakin (no longer Vader) living out his remaining days in a high security glorified nursing home, Obiwan Kenobi hadn’t planned on one day being contacted by social services just about ten or so years later with the news that the secret son he’d had with Satine, who was supposed to be living a happy tragedy less life in Mandalore, was dead and unless he claimed custody of his son’s three orphan children the girls would be shipped off to some place far like Jakku.

So Obiwan had stepped up, retired to a modest house near the beach in Yavin IV and raised the girls himself with the occasional help from what was left of his friends.

Funny how the reason he’d abstained from mixing too much with Leia’s family was because he thought her own set of pre teen triplets were already enough work for Han and her her and in the end it turned out that it was Obiwan who found himself handing out sage advice to her.

Kenobi didn’t regret raising the girls away from Coruscant, if anything he was glad Rey, Kira and Daisy had gone to small town schools and roamed the beach and woods to their hearts content.

He just hadn’t counted with their strange fascination towards the Solo boys.

Anakin (Mustafar blast him) liked to laugh trough his life support and tell him he deserved it for all the grief Obiwan ever put his former Padawan trough.

“The beginning…Well, I guess it started last year when that bantha shit of Ben Solo said I wouldn’t know how to dress like a real girl even if Jessica Pava herself let me borrow her whole wardrobe, which is a load of… ”

“Was this before or after you ruined Kylo’s chance with Rey by showing her that video of him trashing his tattoo parlor after talking to Han” her Grandfather interrupted with narrowed eyes

“a bit after, the next day I think” Kira admitted ruefully “in my defense I have nothing against Kylo, he’s just a violent weirdo who doesn’t deserve Rey”

“Kira! You told Rey that Kylo had torched the falcon with Han inside!” Obiwan scolded “And belittle him infront of her every time you get a chance”

“He’s not good enough for her! Someone’s got to make sure she knows it” Kira protested crossing her arms over her chest.

“And Daisy with Matt?”

“Those two can ruin their relationship on their own”

“KIRA LAN KENOBI” Obiwan snapped raising his voice to scold her once again “sabotaging the happiness of your sisters is not something I approve of”

“But Grandpa!”

“Just continue your story”

“Well, then I told Ben that how would he know, since the only time he’s ever been interested in girls clothes was when he’s trying to take them off some poor unsuspecting soul”

“It all escalated from there until he said that from looking at my chest he understood why guys ran away from me”

“And you punched him in the face” Obiwan guessed wisely

“I did”

“You know his hostility might have had something to do with your single-minded tendency of ruining his brother’s happiness” but her grandfather’s observation got ignored by Kira

“But every time we’ve seen each other since then is the same thing” Kira kept on talking “he was always bloody remarking on the fact that I’m too boyish and tough and violent, and screw him I might not be all boobs and ass like Bazine but I’m not a bloody guy!”

“Isn’t that Bazine the girl you called “skanky cabaret stripper” after the Solo’s last New Year’s Eve party?“ Obiwan recalled the moniker being repeated with way too much frequency whenever Kira complained about Ben Solo’s womanizing and why that made Kylo and Matt entirely wrong for Rey or Daisy

"That’s the one, she’s got fake: nails, boobs, hair, teeth and personality"Kira listed angrily before returning to the subject at hand "so last week after debating it out with Rey in Han’s garage I got fed up, I just went downtown, bought a couple of dresses that would make even someone like Solo stop and pay attention and showed up at Poe’s birthday bash with Rey”

“Yes, I remember, incidentally Daisy told me that you and I quote "looked like a goddess of darkness, but got angry and left early’ and those were her exact words”

Kira smirked she HAD looked like a goddess thank you very much, that red and black one shoulder cocktail dress with her best skull printed fishnet stockings and loose hair had been enough to make her stand out even next to Phasma (which was a feat considering Phas had the term ‘Chrome Queen’ down to a trademark and Kira always looked like a punk rock Hobbit when they hung out together) “here’s the thing Granps, Hux was there too, he tried flirting with moi, which made me laugh at every three words he said”

“Why? Didn’t you want boys to notice the pretty dress? Daisy said Hux was your type” Obiwan had long ago accepted the fact that his girls were grown up, honestly after having to give them the talk before puberty and managing to survive ten or so years of synchronized periods, he considered the whole talking-about-boys thing the least traumatic of conversation topics.

“Hey one, ew it’s Hux, he doesn’t count as a boy because he’s a ginger and please feel free to take offense, gingers are the devil” Kira pointed out making her grandfather laugh “two, everytime Armitage Hux tries flirting with me it’s only because he’s trying to look casual when he turns around to make an actual move on Phasma, constipated and anal retentive as he is” Kira snorted “and three, it wasn’t a PRETTY dress, it was a badass masterpiece of clothing that was dug out from a ceremonial tomb in the ruins of Jedha and restored to its original glory by a black market Tailor”

“Kira what have I told you about doing your shopping in the ill-obtained-goods district of Coruscant?” Old Kenobi interjected with exasperation

“It’s a dress Grandpa…Or two or three, the tomb of Wesi Ker isn’t going to miss them and they came at a lower rate than the designer garbage General Organa loves to dress Rey in”

“Force give me patience” Grandfather said elevating his eyes to the sky “Don’t change the subject young lady, what did Hux do that you left early?”

“Hux? Nothing, didn’t I just tell you that Hux has a weird fetish for gigantic and blonde bi ladies?” Kira snapped, recalling Hux smarmy compliments “it was Ben! He’s the one who called me hot one moment and as soon as he saw Hux said I looked like cheap a skin girl, the idiot, chauvinistic, pompous bantha anus that he is”

“I take it you also punched him for the remark” in fact if she hadn’t it would have been a sign of the Apocalypse for Old Kenobi

“Of course not, it was Poe’s birthday, I promised Rey that there would be no punching”

“Then what..” old Obiwan raised his finger to ask

“…I took advantage of the slit in the leg of my dress to knee him in the nuts” Kira elaborated then she added for good measure “like a lady good and proper”

Privately Obiwan hoped it had hurt as much as Kira’s pride “so you left early” he deduced with a knowing look

“And ended up saving Ben Solo’s life, when I should have left him to die”

“I take it there’s more to the story than just leaving early then”

“Look I was going to! I even made nice with Poe and everything, bought him this very nice empire era X-Wing air freshener as a gift and abstained from insulting Finn’s obvious bad taste in boyfriends” Kira protested hotly “But Poe, the bloody Tautun, had to make a whole spectacle out of it and Daisy was begging me to stay because she’s Daisy and since Solo is Poe’s best friend, he attempted to cajole me into letting him drive me home, Grandpa, the gall of him! as tough I’m some simpering little idiot who doesn’t know what nasty shit he uses the Millennium Falcon for”

“Kira, didn’t you carpool in Rey’s car that day? Ben Solo might be a scoundrel but I’d have to agree on that one” Obiwan interrupted “I know, I know, you’re Kira Kenobi and can take care of yourself, but don’t blame an old man for being a worrier”

“I was planning to use my speeder, since Phasma brought it and I knew she’d be crashing with he’s-just-a-good-colleague Hux in his fancy Coruscant penthouse”

“A speeder in a dress? Force help me Kira! Not even your grandmother ever did that and believe me, I saw Satine wear a lot of strange clothing when escaping assassination attempts back in the day”

“Solo said the same thing…Well give or take a few ‘do you plan on flashing all the Commonwealth district’ and 'Kira let me drive you home blah blah blah’ oh and when I wouldn’t listen to him he kissed me but that’s unimportant what’s important is that Dabba the Hutt’s minions…”

“Kira?” Obiwan leveled her another Jedi Council eyebrow raise “Ben Solo kissed you?”

“He did, I was trying to get away from him, he followed me to the parking lot and kissed me” She squirmed under her grandfather’s all knowing look

“Ben, the scoundrel you’ve been complaining about since you were thirteen, that Ben” Another Jedi Council eyebrow

“Yes that Ben, the same one I slapped minutes later”

“The Ben that you claim not to like”

“Grandpa! I really don’t like him, he’s an egocentric prick with a hero complex and a wandering dick” Kira didn’t like the laughter in her grandfather’s eyes not one bit and okay maybe that first kiss hadn’t been that bad and maybe he’d tasted like cigarettes and corellian wine but she absolutely still hated him

“Oh the follies of youth my child”

“Anyway, he kissed me, and don’t look at me like that I slapped the grin of his face and told him I’d never in a million years be a notch in his bedpost then he got angry and told me he’d see me in hell for that lie and I thought that was it, except it wasn’t because as he was leaving the parking lot to join the party Dabba the Hutt’s minions ambushed him”

“What is it with Solo men and angering Hutts? I could tell our one or two stories about Han in his Hutt days that would make even you feel like vomiting” Obiwan huffed as he put two and two together “he might be my namesake but Ben takes after his father too much, why didn’t they just name the boy Han junior?”

“I know! But guess what it turns out this time it wasn’t Ben’s fault” Kira smirked “I know shocking isn’t it”

“Very” her grandfather agreed bring the mug of tea to his lips

“So the twilek and the togruta mobsters ambushed him because that skank of Bazine is now Dabba the Hutt’s sidepiece, and pummeled Ben into submission before stuffing the idiot in the back of a van” then she paused “this is the part where I decided to be an idiot too and followed them in my speeder” she HAD been forced to rip her dress but the shorter length had suited her just fine

“Did you subdue them with a blaster or did you let your fist do the talking?” Obiwan hummed putting his mug down

“A Blaster but how did you know?” In fact she’d followed them into a warehouse and had started shooting warning blasts as soon as she saw Solo tied up with a bag over his head

“I raised you Kira, I know everything” was the sage answer she got

“Anyway there was I shooting at some Hutt minions, saving Solo’s ass, handing him my spare gun and he suddenly gives me that look!” Kira grumbled opening her eyes exaggeratedly and fluttering her eyelashes while trying to imitate Ben “you know the look, the pathetic one Kylo gives Rey when she’s not looking”

“Ahh the Bambi eyes”

“Yes and it’s ridiculous because I’m beating the shit out of those dumpsters for him and we’re right in the middle of a fight, what the hell Grandpa? I didn’t ask for the Bambi eyes!” Kira got angrier “that’s Matt’s deal, hell it’s Kylo’s too, but I am Kira Kenobi and I could have lived the rest of my life perfectly happy without knowing Ben was capable of directing that look at me”

Obiwan knew exactly what look she was talking about, the one that only a Skywalker could replicate, a gaze that was a mixture of awe, worship and admiration with just the right ammount of love that made mooncalfs look tame. Leia had a habit of sporting Bambi eyes whenever she looked at Han after the war.

In hindsight maybe the triplets had inherited the look from Shmi Skywalker, the blame for this couldn’t be laid exclusively at Anakin’s door.

“So he gave you the Bambi eyes and…”

“And now I’m doomed”

“Perfectly understandable”

“No I mean yes, I mean” Kira fisted her hands “We were fighting and he’s looking at me like I’m his new religion or something and then we’re tying up the twilek and the togruta and getting the hell out of Dodge in my speeder and it felt so right grandpa” she took a deep breath and a gulp of tea “and then I’m dropping him off at the Senate building and he’s kissing me again, only this time I kiss him back because dammit who can resist those stupid brown eyes when they have that look”

“So that’s why you think you’re doomed” Obiwan agreed “you’re right dear, you are very much doomed, has he asked you to marry him yet?”

“After we broke apart from that kiss”

“And now he’s sending you flowers” Grandfather chuckled “if you dislike the gesture why don’t you tell him to stop?”

“Because then I’d have to talk to him!” Kira replied then she smiled a little bit momentarily lighting up the perpetual scowl on her face “besides nobody has ever sent me flowers before, all the guys that like me are way too scared”

“What do your sisters think about it?”

“Oh Force if they knew it’s him I’ll never hear the end of it from Rey, they all know scoundrels are so not my kriffin type”

“Exept one scoundrel apparently is”

“I blame the Bambi eyes” Kira crossed her arms over her chest “and you grandpa are not allowed to tell anybody capisce?”

“Who would I tell?” Obiwan lied knowing fully well what his next topic of discussion with Anakin would be when they met up for senior discount brunch in his penitentiary’s cafe

“So what do I do? I don’t want to like him, he’s still an asshole with a hero complex and a womanizer track record”

“Trust the force?” Her grandfather joked earning him a glower from Kira “just follow your instincts Kira, that’s what my old master used to say”

“Your old master died a virgin”

“Actually Qui Gon lied to the Jedi Council about that but that’s a story for another day”

“So it wasn’t just you and vader who lied about that?…You know you Jedis had a ton of double standards” Kira needled in, much like the eldest Solo triplet, Kira had also done a stint in the Secret, Institution for Terror and Hostility (S.I.T.H) that opposed the Jedi order during her teens.

Obiwan had breathed easily when Kira’s fascination with the emperor (who was rumored to be related to the triplets mysterious mother) had dwindled from Sith tendencies down into a simple knack for collecting empire related memorabilia. As opposed to Kylo’s much more painful experience at the hands of Snoke the last head of the Sith organization.

“And that’s a lesson to learn from the old Jedi order that Luke took into account” Obiwan cut off good-naturedly “avoid double standards” he sent her a pointed look “anything else you’d like to share? I can see it’s eating you, trust me my dear if he likes you everything will be fine”

“His last flowers came with tickets to a Black Sabbath concert” Kira confessed ruefully “I didn’t exactly talk to him, but I might have sent him a text telling him to pick me up in three hours”

“I don’t know what millennials are calling that nowadays but in my time we called that a date”

“It’s not a date! I don’t do dates, dates are for pathetic people like Matt and Daisy”

“Does Ben Solo know that?” Obiwan chuckled

“Shut up Grandpa” Kira put her head in her arms and let out a scream “Force I’m so kriffin doomed”

And Obiwan did as a good grandfather would and didn’t voice his agreement out loud “it’s all right Kira, if he gets too out of hand you can just punch him again”

“What if I don’t want to punch him?” Kira raised her head from her arms

“Then you don’t punch him, simple as that”

“I don’t want to be a notch in his bedpost, I’d die if I’m just a game for his stupid nerf herder ass”

“Kira any man that even thinks that you’re the type of girl that gets used like that, deserves all the pain he’ll get when you disabuse him of the notion”

“Thanks Grandpa, that…Made me feel oddly better”

Obiwan sighed leave it to Kira to be comforted by thoughts of violent retribution “You have a Jedi blessing to break that boy’s bones if he doesn’t behave”

“And here I thought you couldn’t be a sweeter old man” Kira smiled “thank you, I really needed to hear that”

Oh Anakin would have a life support field day when Obiwan shared the latest Grandchild gossip, that’s for sure, but in the meantime Obiwan Kenobi poured more tea and listened to Kira’s dramatic death threats towards the man she liked.

He wished Satine could see him now, she would laugh too.

An: lils happy early birthday, Dark Rey was fun to write. Lilithsaur dear this fic was inspired by Franco and Sarita’s relationship in PDG. Also the girls love for quirky Grandpa Martin..