#season 3 ezra wouldn’t have left her behind

[peachyhoolagan]

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

[kybercrystals94]

Sacrifice and Loyalty

Read here on Ao3!

Angstpril 2024 | Day 12 | Prompt 12: A Little Too Late

Rated: G | Words: 561 | Summary: Missing scene between episodes 3x11 and 3x12. | Character Focus: Crosshair, Hunter

Spoilers for Season 3 Episodes 11 & 12

The moment Hunter slips through the door, he knows something is desperately wrong. The needled talons of dread claw up his throat from the pit of his stomach. He tries to swallow it back, but it lodges tightly just behind his tongue. 

Hunter takes in the occupants of the space. Wrecker, still unconscious, and Crosshair, sitting next to him with his rifle propped at the ready against his thigh. Their sister’s absence is cavernous. 

“Where’s Omega?” Hunter asks. 

Crosshair’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath. He stands, leaning his rifle against the wall, and turns to face Hunter head on.   

“Omega turned herself in.” Crosshair states it, voice pressed flat of emotion. His hand trembles at his side, unchecked, as Crosshair looks anywhere but Hunter’s face. “She…” his dull voice catches, “She did it to save Pabu. They wouldn’t have stopped searching until they found her. It was only a matter of time.” He glances down, notices his hand and grips it in the other. “I tried to reason with her. She knew the risks.

“But I failed to protect her,” Crosshair continues. “I was supposed to get a tracker on the ship, but I missed. I missed, and she doesn’t know. She trusted me to make the shot, and I missed.” He fists his trembling hand. “I’m sorry, Hunter.”

The initial, reactive twist of Hunter’s features as the news settles is hidden behind his helmet. They just got her back, and the Empire snatched her away again. Righteous anger burns deep, and it takes every piece of Hunter’s exhausted resolve not to become violent, to throw something, break something, destroy something. It isn’t fair, what this galaxy has taken from them, has done to them, over and over again. 

Hunter takes a staggered step forward, and Crosshair flinches. It is subtle, almost imperceptible. But Hunter sees it, and his heart fractures further. His anger does not extend to Crosshair. How could it, when he sees his own turmoil and regret reflected in his little brother’s averted eyes? Hunter puts his anger away, thrusts it into the darkest corner of his mind to fester, and reaches up to take off his helmet. Crosshair’s gaze slides over to meet his as soon as his face is exposed. 

“I know you did everything you could,” Hunter says. He swallows. There is no comfort in the truth, just the reality. “Omega would have gone with or without you backing her up.” 

Hunter remembers seeing his sister after he and Wrecker were captured, small and fierce, energy bow drawn, refusing to hide away if there was any possibility of saving her brothers. Omega isn’t a soldier, but loyalty and sacrifice are saturated in her blood. Just like Tech. 

Naked surprise twitches Crosshair’s expression before settling back into careful neutral. He nods stiffly, looking away. “She put the people of Pabu before herself, risked everything so that we might find Tantiss. I was ambushed by troopers when I was lining up the shot for the tracker. I…I couldn’t recover my position in time…”

Hunter rests a hand on Crosshair’s pauldron. “Omega won’t blame you, Cross. I don’t blame you. We’ll find her again.” 

Crosshair swallows visibly and steadies himself before looking Hunter in the eye again. A small, despondent smile quirks the edge of his lips. “Not if she finds us first.” 

END

Heading into the next third of our prompts! Make sure you check out all of @the-little-moment and @just-here-with-my-thoughts contributions to Angstpril! They are amazing!! Here's an easy list of our first 10 prompt fills!

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[daughterofthequeen]

Contribution

Pairings: Ezra Bridger x gn!reader

Requested by: @theriseofshin

A/N: I added a little more to the story I hope that's ok. And omg look at the gif I found, Eman is so Ezra coded. THE SHOULDER BOUNCE WHEN THEY SMILE. Ok so this based on season 3 episode 11 of Rebels and also somewhere in between S3 E11 and S3 E13. The idea just popped up in my head, we'll see how it goes. Reader is force sensitive. This is also unedited btw.

Summary: When you, Sabine, and Kanan followed Maul and Ezra to Dathomir, the witches somehow took away your powers. Which should've been impossible, but ever since that incident you've felt like you brought nothing to the team. You felt like you were in the way. Seeing this Ezra quickly took these thoughts from your mind reminding you of who you are.

Translation: kokipa- fear

You were laying on your bed enjoying having the room to yourself for once. I mean don't get me wrong, you and Sabine get along really well as roommates as well as sisters can be anyway, but lately in your spare time you'd ather be alone. After what happened on Dathomir, you rather not be around anyone.

EDIT: I accidentally deleted this when I was trying to make a correction. You guys don’t know how stressed I was.

And HUGE shout to @nubimera for reblogging this story because not only were you the first reblog of this fic but you are the reason I was able to get pictures of my fic so I wouldn’t have to rewrite it. THANK YOU SO MUCH YOURE SO AMAZING🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️🥰and a big thanks to everyone who like my fic in the short amount of time of me posting before I accidentally deleted it🤦‍♀️🫣🤦‍♀️

Few weeks ago on Dathomir

After Ezra threw you out of the cave the spirit left your body, giving you back control of your limbs.

"Why is it every time we work with Maul, weird force stuff happens and I'm always hurt trying to save you?" You said with a small smile while trying to rub away your migraine.

"Wait you're hurt? Where?" Ezra responded reaching towards you looking for any injuries.

“I'm hurt mentally, these experiences take a toll on a person you know." You smirked and Ezra rolled his eyes at your teasing.

"I thought you were injured."

"I do have a heck of a headache if that makes you feel any better." You said as you stood up.

"No, you stay here. I'm going to go get Sabine and Kanan."

"Then I want to help."

"They'll just posses you again."

"And what about you?"

"I have a plan."

"Great, then I can help with that. I'll take Sabine and you can take Kanan." You said walking back into the cave.

Ezra sighed at your stubbornness and followed you in.

"You know you're pretty stubborn." Ezra says.

"I've been told that before."

Sensing something behind you, you quickly ignited your light saber and blocked the one aimed at you. You called out and told Ezra to go help Kanan before focusing back on your best friend.

"Sabine if you can hear me, I'm sorry." You said as you broke the hold of the lightsabers and kicked Sabine in her stomach sending her backwards. Seeing her getting up you pressed on slowly but surely backing Sabine towards the entrance of the cave before a force knocked you over. You opened your eyes to see the spirit that came after you the first time. You quickly dodged it and turned back around towards Sabine and when you did you felt a pair of fingers on your forehead and you hear one word before blacking out.

"Kokipa."

The Next Day

The next thing you knew you were waking up in your bed with Ezra sitting next to you, and it didn't take long to realize the damage that had been done. Once you had woken up completely everything felt quiet. You couldn't feel anything around you. You went to Kanan to ask him about it and he said it could just be fatigue, but you didn't believe it. You have been way more exhausted before and it never affected your powers. It wasn't until a few days later during a mission briefing when you realized your powers were gone. Hera was explaining the mission when you seen one of the cute hermit crab things that were all around chopper base. It was sitting next to your hand on the edge of the holo-table. Smiling softly you reached out to it with the force, well you tried anyway. It was something you would do all the time, but this time you couldn't feel its emotions or its presence. Trying not to panic you looked around trying to connect with any living thing you had seen, but felt nothing. Now it was time to panic. You looked towards Ezra and Kanan. Ezra must've felt your worry and unease because he looked up directly at you seeing your panicked eyes. A few seconds of the two of you staring at each other, he gave you a confused look. That's when you realized he was trying to talk to you through the force link only the two of you shared.

When the two of you met you both instantly created a bond that grew stronger every day. About a month into your friendship you both realized you could use the force to connect your minds and talk to each other telepathically. Kanan explained that it was because of the bond you two share and that it was a rare occurrence and could be dangerous if the two of you weren't careful with your emotions. Over time you both mastered the skill, only this time you couldn't hear Ezra thoughts at all or even feel him through the force. That's when you started to panic. You didn't even hear Hera when she asked if you were ok, or notice Kanan quickly moving to your side while Ezra made his way to the other. All you could hear was your body trying to catch its breath. You couldn't breath, and you could barely hear Ezra trying to walk you through slowing your breathing, but you couldn't. Every thing sounded like it was under water.

Kanan and Ezra walked you to the common room of the Ghost as the others followed, watching worriedly as Ezra was slowly able to calm you down.

"So, you gonna tell us what's going on?" Kanan said.

"Somethings wrong with me." You replied.

"What do you mean?"

"I think I've lost my powers."

Everyone was silent at first, a Jedi losing their connection to the force was so rare it was basically unheard of during the times of old. The only way for a force user to lose their powers was if they stopped using it completely.

"(Y/n), that's not possible."

"Then tell me what it is Kanan! It's not exhaustion, it's something else! It's like everything has gone quiet, if I wasn't looking at all of you right now, I wouldn't even know you were here! Tell me what to do Kanan.”

"I-I haven't seen anything like this before (Y/n). I'm not sure there is anything we can do. Let me think on it, we'll figure it out I promise." You could hear the sadness in Kanan's voice which only worries you more. You said nothing else as you stood up went to your room. You were anxious, angry, sad, and scared.

"What would my contribution to the team be now?" You asked yourself before the sound of the door opening caught your attention. It was Ezra.

"Hey." He said softly.

"Hey."

"How you doin'?" Ezra asked as he sat next to you on your bunk.

"How do you think I'm doing?" The pause that followed was uncomfortable and the guilt you felt caused you to sigh.

"I'm sorry, Ezra. I'm just- I don't know why I’m going to do.”

"Don't worry, we'll figure this out, (N/ n)."

"It's not just that."

"Then what is it?"

"How am I supposed to help the team?"

"What?"

"Without the force, I'm useless to the team."

"That's not true! You are more than just your powers (N/n)."

"Am I? I'm not skilled in mechanics like Sabine, I'm not as good a shot as Zeb, and I definitely don't even come close to flying as good a Hera. You and Kanan, even you guys come up with really good plans when needed. I can't do any of that stuff. I knew how to fight, but now that my powers are gone how am I supposed to do that well." You said looking away from Ezra.

"Woah, woah, woah, let me stop you right there. You are a vital part of this team, this family. And just because you think you don't contribute anything other than your lightsaber doesn't make it true. I can't tell you how many messes you've gotten us out of with your quick thinking, how many problems your creative mind help fix for everybody on this ship, constantly. And you're a fierce warrior with and without your saber."

"Ezra." You sighed.

"You are needed here, and I won't let you think otherwise. And I will repeat myself everyday until you believe it, if I have to." Ezra finished as he softly cups your cheek and turn your head back towards him to look you in the eyes.

"Thanks, Ezra. But-"

"No buts." He said leaning forward pressing a soft kiss on your cheek, then another on your lips. "Now, let's forgive this out. Start from the beginning." And you did. You told him about everything that happened yesterday, and retracing your steps helped you realize the reason your powers are gone. You were still anxious and afraid, but with Ezra there you knew everything was going to turn out fine.

————————————————————

A/N: Finally finished I hope this isn't to cringe or anything. And hopefully this fulfilled your request. Thank you so much for sending in your request, and giving me a chance to bring your idea to life. I will now be heading to bed. Good night, guys.

Edit: But I did discover something from this mistake if you have a iPad and an iPhone you can copy something from said iPad and all you have to do is click ast on your iPhone and it’ll paste whatever it was from your iPad to your phone. I’m late Ik BUT it was such a life saver because I promise if I had to rewrite this whole fic out again without a reference (not that I didn’t enjoy writing it the first time) this fic was going to be my 13th reason. Hope you guys enjoy, toodles👋.

[sixhours]

i know you by heart - chapter 3

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, light angst, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

The greenhouse is warm and humid even this early in the spring. Joel wanders in, surprised to see Ezra and Cee at the far end, back to and hunched over something. Ezra turns around at the sound of the creaking door and gives him a crooked grin.

“Joel! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Hey…didn’t know they had you folks in here.”

“I’m supposed to be at the library,” Cee says, glaring at Ezra. “But someone had to talk my ear off about plant propagation.”

“You wound me, birdie,” Ezra says, undeterred. “The science of gardening is a fascinating study in the act of playing god, and an absolute necessity in the new world in which we now find ourselves. The importance of knowing how to provide for one’s own sustenance can not be overstated.”

“See what I mean?” Cee groans, but Joel recognizes a familiar fondness in her eyes.

“I can come back if I’m interruptin’–”

“No!” Cee says, eyes flashing as she gathers her things and heads for the door in a rush. “You’re saving me. Bye, Ez.”

“Farewell, birdie. Don’t do anything–”

“‘You wouldn’t do’, yeah, yeah, got it.”

When she’s gone, Joel wanders closer to the workbench.

“So…you like…plants?” he says, then immediately wishes he could melt into the floor.

Like asking a contractor if they like fuckin’ nails.

“Ah. When I’m not entertaining the psychological notions of being or contributing to the Jackson youth’s musical education, I make myself of use in the gardening department,” he says. He turns back to the workbench, where he’s taking clippings from a larger plant with a pair of shears. “Thank the fates that when FEDRA took my arm, they didn’t take my green thumb along with it.”

Joel blinks, glancing at the stump of Ezra’s right shoulder. “FEDRA did that?”

“Indeed,” Ezra says, frowning as a clipping drops from his hand and into his lap. “I had the misfortune of suffering a bite.”

The words, spoken offhand, turn the blood in Joel’s veins to ice. He can’t help but picture Ellie’s vining scar, and he’s left to gape for a few precious seconds before Ezra continues.

“Pinky finger. I was something of an experiment. A particularly nimble medic was able to sever the arm above the infection before the fungus spread to less desirable places.”

“That…actually works?”

“Not for the majority, I’m afraid. I’m an oddity, a medical marvel,” he says with more than a trace of sarcasm. “The haste with which my esteemed colleague moved and the lack of anesthesia allowed me a certain grace. I clamped my teeth around the same belt that cut off circulation to the arm and took a bone saw above the elbow.”

“Jesus,” Joel breathes.

“I am fortunate to have a high tolerance for pain,” Ezra says. “And it’s infinitely better than the alternative, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I s’pose…”

Ezra puts down the shears, rounding to face him. “But you didn’t wander all this way for my tragic tale.”

“Oh, right. Uh, the council has us at the greenhouse next door. Said there was probably a roll of that plastic stored around here somewhere. Need to patch up the damage from that wind storm last week.”

“Mmm, I do believe I’ve seen just such a thing lingering about in the back shed,” Ezra says, hopping off the stool and gesturing for Joel to follow.

They go through the back and out to a separate storage building. It’s a dim, windowless room, lined with spare workbenches and cluttered with all sorts of landscaping gear. There’s barely enough space for them to stand shoulder to shoulder. Under one of the benches, tucked behind a slew of unused pots, Ezra unearths a huge roll of thick plastic. Together, they wrest it out of its hiding place and heft it onto the bench.

“That’ll do,” Joel says, brushing dust and loose soil from his hands. “Should be able to patch the worst of it.”

“Glad to be of assistance.”

“Oh, uh…I still have that…the Songbird , uh, thing,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Been meanin’ to get it back to you…”

In truth, he’s thought about the album every night for weeks, listened to it whenever Ellie allowed him to borrow the record player, and could probably play half the songs from memory.

“You’ve listened to it?” Ezra’s face lights up.

“Yeah, I uh…yeah, it’s…it’s good. It’s…m’sorry it’s…been a while…”

“There’s no rush,” he replies. “Music should be…savored.” 

There’s another an awkward pause where neither of them makes to leave. In the cramped quarters of the shed, Joel can hear their mingled breathing, can smell the faint scent of sweat and the herbal lye soap from the commissary.

“Did you–”

“I should–”

Joel ducks his head, lets out a nervous breath of laughter.

“I was wondering,” Ezra begins, stepping closer, his voice lacking its usual bravado. “If you…if you would…indulge me.”

Joel swallows hard. “I-I don’t know what you’re gettin’ at.”

He sees Ezra’s tongue dart out, glazing his lower lip, before he raises his hand to cup Joel’s cheek in answer.

When he leans in, Joel is so shocked he doesn’t have the wherewithal to pull away. He’s frozen in place, all rational thought drowned out by the rushing beat of his pulse. He’s not entirely sure he’s not dreaming when Ezra’s lips press firmly, warmly against his own.

His eyes close of their own volition and the raucous noise in his head goes blissfully quiet as Ezra’s mouth slants over his, tasting of coffee and something richer, deeper, something that feeds the fire in his belly, a match to gasoline.

When they part, he’s stunned and dizzy in the aftermath, heart slamming against his ribs. Joel watches the other man’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat, considering him with careful, curious eyes.

Joel is the first to break the silence.

“I…I can’t.”

He suddenly can’t breathe, can’t take in enough air to get out the words, to explain. The roar in his mind comes back in full force, and he doesn’t even realize he’s moving for the door, doesn’t realize he’s forgotten the stupid plastic sheeting until he’s half a block away. He’ll have to send Tommy back for it.

That was stupid, really fuckin’ stupid.

He doesn’t know if it’s the kiss or the fact that he’s running away like a damn dog with his tail between his legs. He looks over his shoulder, half expecting Ezra to follow him, unsure if he’s disappointed or relieved when he finds he’s alone.

“What’s your problem?” Ellie asks later that evening when they’re sitting together in the caf and Joel is pushing his food around on his plate. He can still feel Ezra’s lips against his.

“S’nothin’, kid,” he mutters. “Eat your food.”

“You’re acting weird,” she says. “And you have dirt on your face.”

“You’re actin’ weird,” he fires back, wiping at skin on his cheek, flushing at the thought of Ezra’s hand there. “Eat.”

“Is this one of those ‘do as I say, not as I do’ things?” she says, looking skeptically at his almost full plate.

“Had a big lunch,” he mutters.

“Uh-huh,” she says, then makes a point of stealing his dinner roll. “Oh, I saw Cee at the library. She said she has issue 7 of Savage Starlight. I’ve never read it, she said I could borrow her copy sometime.”

“Yeah?” he looks up, then back at his plate, trying not to sound too eager. “Are you two, uh, friends?”

“We hang out, I guess,” Ellie shrugs. “Ezra’s her Joel-person.”

“Her…oh. Right.”

“Hey, can I go over to Dina’s tonight? They’re having a bonfire, they’re gonna show me how to make s’mores. Or I guess, not real s’mores, ‘cause we don’t have chocolate, but–”

“It’s movie night,” he says.

“Oh…shit,” her face falls. “I forgot.”

He ducks his head, stuffs a forkful of something green in his mouth without tasting it. “S’no big deal. Dina’s sister will be there, right?”

“Yeah…I mean, we can do the movies if you want…”

“No, you go,” he says, swallowing a pang of loneliness with his next bite.

“If you’re sure,” Ellie says.

He ducks his head in a nod and hopes he sounds sincere. “I’m sure.”

They walk back to their house on Rancher Street, Ellie chattering about ritual burning ceremonies for the spring equinox, something that would probably concern him if he weren’t otherwise distracted. They spot Maria at her house across the street talking to one of the neighbors, an attractive younger woman who looks all too eager to chat.

Maria waves them over, but he pretends not to get the hint and makes a sharp left toward his house.

“C’mon Joooooel,” Ellie drawls, nudging him. “You should go talk to her.”

He shoots her a look.

“Dude, if I have to be all nice and make friends and shit, you should, too.”

“I’m good,” he mutters, letting them into the house. “An’ I’m not the one who tried to stab someone, if I’m rememberin’ right.”

“I never actually stabbed anyone,” she huffs. “And Dina forgave me, anyway.”

“Sure hope so. Could be she’s lightin’ your funeral pyre right now.”

“Very funny. But seriously, you should, like…go do whatever it is old men do for fun. Go to the bar or play golf or something.”

“Do I look like I know how to play golf?” he says, arching an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe not, but–”

“Tell you what,” he interrupts. “You go to your bonfire ritual sacrifice thing, an’ I’m gonna sit right here and enjoy some peace an’ fuckin’ quiet for once.”

She rolls her eyes, heading for the stairs. “Fine, but don’t blame me when you die all sad and alone.”

“‘Least it’ll be quiet,” he calls after her.

That evening there’s still a chill in the air but it’s not enough to drive him off the back porch. He takes his guitar and a glass of whiskey and settles on the bench he installed for just this purpose. It’s quiet and private, a perfect place to practice.

Midnights in winter

The glowing fire

Lights up your face in orange and gold

I see your sweet smile

Shine through the darkness

It's line is etched in my memory

So I'd know you by heart

The last chord fades into the night when a familiar voice speaks from the doorway.

“I knew you were a musician.”

Joel’s head snaps around.

“Your young prodigy let me in,” Ezra offers, sauntering across the porch to lean against the railing, the long line of his frame lithe against the post. “She told me to tell you she’s off to a ‘ceremonial burning.’”

Joel sighs. “Sounds about right.”

“I wanted to…check in,” Ezra says carefully. “I didn’t want to leave things in a precarious state.”

“Yeah, ‘bout that,” Joel murmurs. “Look, I’m sorry if I–“

Ezra holds up a hand.

“If I may, I’ll say I thought–I thought I perceived a certain…kinship. I usually have a keen sense for these things, but it appears I was mistaken, and I wanted to apologize if I overstepped–”

Joel shakes his head, cutting him off. “That’s not…it ain’t what you’re thinkin’, Ez.”

“Then enlighten me,” Ezra sighs. “So I’m not left at the mercy of my imagination, to wonder if my radar is permanently broken or just temporarily out of calibration.”

Joel ducks his head. His lips feel numb and awkward around the words. “I’m not…good…at this. But…you weren’t wrong.”

Ezra considers this. Then he nods, tipping his head to the guitar in Joel’s hands. “‘Where words fail, music speaks.’ I take it you liked our friend Eva’s work?”

“Yeah…it’s, uh…hadn’t heard her version of Songbird . Reminded me of…of someone.”

“It reminded me of you…the musician. And with a resonant voice to match,” Ezra says, quirking his lips. “ Songbird for a songbird.”

Joel feels his cheeks flame and pretends to busy himself with tuning the guitar. “It’s, uh…softer than I’m used to.”

“Softness is an oft-neglected quality in this sorry world,” Ezra murmurs, eyes dark. “Play for me, songbird?”

Joel huffs an embarrassed laugh. “Y’want me to ruin a perfectly good song?”

“I don’t think you could if you tried.”

“Fine,” Joel says, breathing a sigh. “But don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

He plays the song he’s practiced for weeks, the song that’s kept Ezra at the forefront of his mind, stuck like a splinter in his consciousness.

You left in autumn

The leaves were turning

I saw your sweet smile

I heard your laughter

You're still here beside me

Everyday

'Cause I know you by heart

The last note seems to resonate within him, filling his chest until it’s tight and aching. There’s the faint call of a bird and the rustle of the grass and the sound of his own breathing echoing in his ears and he can’t meet Ezra’s eyes even though he can feel the man’s gaze like a sunburn on his skin.

Then, footsteps on the worn floorboards of the porch as Ezra crosses the distance and takes the guitar slowly from his hands, propping it against the railing. The shifting of the bench underneath as Ezra sits. There’s the warmth of his thigh pressed close and a shaky out-breath as his hand cups Joel’s cheek. This time he lets himself into the touch, closing his eyes.

“I–I dunno how to do this,” Joel whispers.

“Hmm,” the other man says, considering, stroking the scruff on Joel’s cheek with one tender thumb. “I think you do.”

When their lips touch for the second time that day, it unlocks something in Joel’s chest, the desire finally opening him by force from the inside out.

His tongue traces the soft ridge of Ezra’s lips, seeking permission, rewarded with a moan and reciprocated touch, warm and wet. Probing, gentle curiosity that escalates into something harder, more needy the longer it lasts. Joel’s fingers tangle in the mess of curls at Ezra’s nape and pull, tipping his head back, kneading the skin at the base of his scalp as he explores the other man’s mouth with his own.

He takes. He gives in to the wanting that’s plagued him for months, he gives in to Ezra’s mouth and lips and tongue. They spar, trading off dominance and submission in equal turns, until they’re both panting and huffing, breath forming mingled clouds in the rapidly cooling night air. Ezra’s mouth is on Joel’s neck, biting, the skin at his pulse point clamped gently between his teeth. 

Ezra is smiling when he finally pulls away, eyes heavy-lidded, lips kiss-bitten and swollen. They’re pressed forehead to forehead as he chuckles, a mellow, rumbling sound that goes straight to Joel’s cock.

“Upstairs,” Joel growls when he can finally speak. “Now.”

“Lead the way,” Ezra pants.

They never make it to the bed.

++++++++++++++++++SMUT+CUT+++++++++++++++++++

He has just enough foresight to lock the bedroom door behind them before Ezra’s lips and teeth drag up the cord of muscle along Joel’s neck and his knees nearly give out, forced to brace himself against the door with one hand.

Ezra is greedy, his hand already coming around to clutch hotly at Joel’s stomach, pulling at his clothes–flannel, undershirt, belt, jeans, Jesus, why are there so many fucking layers –seeking warm, bare skin. He shouldn’t be surprised the man is adept, but he’s quick, too. There’s the cinch of Joel’s belt growing tighter and then loosening as it slips from the clasp, the tug of a button being roughly undone, zipper pulled down, and then Ezra’s hand skims the curls at the base of Joel’s belly before drifting lower, lower.

He’s harder than he has any right to be at his age. Ezra’s hand is precise, gripping and stroking his foreskin over his shaft and back with just the right pressure. He circles the head, slick with precome, then grips and sets a steady rhythm that has Joel biting on his own bicep to muffle the sounds that come pouring from his throat.

“Wanna hear you sing, songbird,” Ezra’s voice drawls in his ear.

“Fuck, Ez…that’s…fuck.”

Ezra’s mouth is latched to a patch of skin at the base of Joel’s neck, the vibration of a growl sending rivulets of pleasure down his spine as his hand slides over Joel’s cock over and over.

It’s embarrassing how little effort it takes to make him come, wound tight as he is. He paints Ezra’s knuckles and the door with his spend, groaning into the sleeve of his flannel.

He’s panting as Ezra manhandles him, turning him around and pressing his body against the length of the door to sip an almost gentle kiss from his lips, then another, carefully stoking the fire that’s resettled at the base of Joel’s spine.

“Come back to me, cher ,” Ezra murmurs, sliding his hand around to grip Joel’s ass, lightly grinding his clothed erection against his thigh. Overstimulated and spent, Joel has enough wherewithal to know Ezra still has far too many clothes on. He pushes the other man roughly back, fumbles with the button of his jeans–even with the use of both hands, he’s not nearly as clever or quick, but he makes do–until Ezra’s cock springs free.

Joel pulls Ezra close again, letting him nuzzle at the base of Joel’s throat as he takes his length in hand, stroking delicately, tentatively, less urgent now that his own needs are satisfied. Their eyes lock and Joel watches the other man’s face contort with pleasure, every furrow of his brow or tremble of his lip.

Then Ezra’s mouth is a hot brand at his collarbone, urging him faster, harder, until he’s thrusting his hips shamelessly into Joel’s hand and spilling against him, sticky and warm. It’s a sudden plunge into oblivion and it’s over too soon.

++++++++++++++++++END+SMUT+CUT+++++++++++++++++++

Joel leans in, pulls Ezra close as they both come down. He wants to take him to bed and wrap himself in the other man’s warmth, wants to undress him, map the scars on his chest, taste him, take his time.

“Ellie’s gonna be home,” Joel whispers when their breathing has settled. “Shit, Ez…we can’t–”

“I know,” he soothes, tipping his head up for a slow, lazy kiss.

“I don’t–I want…”

“Next time, songbird,” Ezra chuckles against Joel’s chest. “Next time, we’ll savor the moment.”

“You asshole !”

Ezra left half an hour ago with a parting kiss that Joel can still feel burning up the back of his neck to the tips of his ears. He floats through the shower in a daze, wipes up the evidence of their tryst, stifles a grin in the privacy of his bedroom.

Now Ellie storms through the front door and Joel feels the blood drain from his face.

How the hell does she know?

“Ellie–?”

“You never told me about marshmallows!”

“...what?”

���Marshmallows,” she says. “Y’know, the white fluffy cloud things? Dina’s sister made ‘em.”

Joel blinks, knees suddenly wobbly with relief, and has to steady himself against the kitchen island. “Oh…right…marshmallows…”

“They’re so fucking good, dude. I ate, like, ten,” she says, headed for the fridge. “Oh, what’d Ezra want?”

“Uhm,” Joel clears his throat. “Uh…he…wanted to pick up that record I borrowed.”

The lie is out before he even realizes it’s a lie. It doesn’t feel like a lie because what happened upstairs thirty minutes ago had to have been a horny fever dream. Except…

Next time, songbird.

His ears are burning again.

“Oh. Cool,” Ellie shrugs, seemingly oblivious to Joel’s turmoil. She peers into the fridge, picks through the contents before taking out a container of leftover vegetable casserole. Ten marshmallows down and she’s still hungry, apparently, but it’s good to see her eat.

“So what’d you do while I was gone?” she asks, popping the lid off the leftovers and stuffing a forkful into her mouth.

“Nothin’ much,” he says too quickly, glancing around for a distraction. His eyes settle on the TV. “Hey, uh, I know we missed the movie, but…ever seen Apollo 13 ? Grabbed it from the library, it’s about one of the moon landings–”

Her eyes light up. “Moon stuff? I’m in!”

“It’s gettin’ a little late,” he teases. “Maybe we should wait ‘til tomorrow…”

“Oh please,” she scoffs. “I’m not tired if you’re not, old man.”

With that, she launches herself over the back of the couch, landing hard on the already strained couch springs. Miraculously, the casserole stays mostly contained.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?“ he sighs.

“C’mon, dude,” she says, easily ignoring him. “Start the movie before I have to put you to bed.”

“Put you to bed,” he mutters, settling on the couch in his usual spot. Ellie burrows into his side, tucking her head against his chest. She’ll fall asleep half an hour later.

“Marshmallows and the moon?” she yawns against him. “Best day ever.”

He can’t disagree.

[orangedodge]

About that season 2 tease...

I've enjoyed the Mandalorian very much so far, and think Jon Favreau has done a splendid job in developing it. I've really liked what Dave Filoni has done in his stewardship of the Star Wars TV universe as well, and I still wish they'd been put in charge of the films. But barring the possibility of a huge second season reversal and misdirect, I cannot fathom the narrative intent behind establishing "the Purge" as a tragedy that occurred after Rebels, instead of during the Empire's early occupation. Again, perhaps it's only a misdirect, and Moff Gideon acquiring the Darksaber is not proof that the Empire defeated Bo-Katan and destroyed Mandalore a second time. But as that is definitely what the showrunners want the audience to take out of the season finale, let's go over a few of the horrible implications that arise from assuming its truth:

1. It retroactively validates all of Sabine Wren's worst instincts, and says that she was wrong to ever place her trust in outsiders, to believe in the Rebellion as a cause, or to live her life according to the morals her foster parents instilled in her. Instead, basic storytelling logic now implies that her downfall came in choosing not to be a monster, and that if she had followed her Imperial training and committed war crimes, and left the Rebel Alliance to its own fate instead of continuing to work with them, her civilization would have survived.

2. It makes the entire leadership of the Rebel Alliance, from Mon Mothma down, look unforgivably callous to the needs of the only people who have ever bothered to show up for them. The Alliance was trapped and in danger of failing years before Rogue One when the Mandalorians risked everything, and endangered the success of their own resistance movement, to save them. All throughout the back half of Rebels, the Alliance is consistently willing to use the Mandalorians as a shield against the Empire, while being reluctant to let even five people volunteer to help them in return, and now we're left with the implication that it was the only assistance they ever gave them at all. It was one thing to have the political heads of the Alliance prevaricate and show reluctance to commit to their own values, when people like Leia, and Jyn, and Hera were always going to be there to force the issue anyway. But are we now to assume that even they only make those gambles for other Rebels?

3. It casts a shadow over all of Filoni's other work. The Mandalorians have been with us since the beginning of Clone Wars, and their fate has been the longest running subplot, throughout three full shows, spanning more than a decade of film and animation. What did it matter, if they all died anyway once they'd outlived their usefulness to the Rebellion? Who should care that Sabine watched over Lothal for Ezra, if she lost everything she fought for in the meantime? Why bother watching the upcoming Clone Wars revival, detailing Ahsoka's liberation of Mandalore, if LucasFilm wants us to think that this is where it all inevitably ends up? Their tale of persistent defiance and finding a way to always survive and rebuild has its own merit, but at some point the characters that the audience has actually spent years and years getting to know deserve to share in some of the fairy tale optimism of the setting.

I wouldn't even call this turn "bad writing" because it actually does a lot to explain why precisely no one seemed to care when the New Republic fell in the sequel trilogy. The New Republic being the extension of the Rebel Alliance, if this is the level of care they showed to their earliest supporters, what good were they to anyone? To repeat, I just do not understand the intent behind this decision at all, or why Filoni and Favreau would want for it to define the tone of their story.

[badchoicesposts]

Don’t Dream It’s Over Chapter 5

Series Summary: Liam and Ali thought that their relationship was perfect, but their whole world came crashing down when Constantine called him back to Cordonia. Four years later they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party, determined to make things between them work even if it isn’t always easy.

In this AU, Liam and MC (Ali Moonessar) dated for a year in New York while Leo was still crown prince. They broke up when Constantine asked Liam to come back to Cordonia, but they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party before the social season. The story will contain flashbacks, which will be italicized, of their relationship and follow them as they try to navigate the season with Ali as a suitor. I’ve messed around with the timeline a bit so that it fits the story better. I’ve also added in a few OCs of my own.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Ali Moonessar)

Word Count: 3,316

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @kingliam2019, @ao719, @emceesynonymroll, @hopefulmoonobject, @dcbbw, @qammh-blog, @liamxs-world, @drakesensworld, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @timmagickfrog

If you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!

A/N: In this chapter you’ll get to learn a bit more about Ali’s family.

This is my first time ever posting a fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to read more. I thrive on validation, lol. Thanks for reading!

TRIGGER WARNING: Nothing too serious but a few mentions of anxiety

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 

Ali pulled another dress over her head and sighed as she watched it drop onto the increasingly large clothing pile on the floor. She had been trying to figure out what to wear for the past two hours, but everything in her closet seemed to look wrong. All of her insecurities seemed to be clawing their way out today, and everything seemed to make her look frumpy or cling to her stomach too much. 

“Did a tornado rip through your closet?” Emma asked, strolling into the room.

She bent over and started rifling through the pile of clothes on the floor. 

“What’s wrong with this one?” she asked, holding up a short blue dress.

“It makes me look fat,” Ali said, rifling through some hangers.

Emma rolled her eyes and dropped the dress back into the pile. She was used to her best friend berating her body because she had been doing it for years, but that didn’t mean that she was okay with it.

“No, it doesn’t. Besides, you know that your wardrobe isn’t the only thing bothering you. What’s wrong?” she argued, dropping down onto the bed. 

Ali groaned angrily and sat down next to her. The other woman was right. The anxieties she had about the evening and her impending choice to follow Liam back to Cordonia were making her harsher on herself than usual. But, that didn’t mean she was in the mood to talk about her feelings. However, she knew that Emma wouldn’t leave her alone until she did. 

“I haven’t been this nervous about a date since the first time I went out with Liam,” she said, resting her head on the blonde girl’s shoulder.

“Good nervous or bad nervous?”

“I’d have to give up everything to be with him, but at the same time I can’t imagine letting him go again,” she said.

“Just because it’s a change doesn’t mean you have to give everything up. Just because you won’t be living with us anymore, doesn’t mean we won’t still be a family. The only thing you’re really giving up is your shitty waitress job,” Emma reasoned.

Ali thought about what she said for a moment. It made sense, but Emma seemed to oversimplify it. Deciding to move to a whole different country was a big decision, especially if the only reason she was doing it was for a guy.

 “And on a more shallow note, I want him to think I look nice,” she said in a small, embarrassed voice. 

Emma smirked and rested her chin on top of her friend’s head. 

“Good nervous, then. You know, I’m sure you could wear a potato sack, and the man would still think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” she said, a fond smile on her face.

Emma had always liked Liam. She had been upset for her friend when he left, but she had liked him. He was good for Ali. Ali had a tendency to get in her head and let her anxieties and insecurities get the best of her, but Liam had always had a way of pulling her out of it. He always seemed to know what to say when she was having a bad day, whether that be because of her mental health or because of a stressful week of classes. He had been so obviously head over heels in love with her, and he knew how to bring out the best side of her. They both had a way of doing that for each other.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true,” Ali said, rolling her eyes and walking back to the closet.  

“He still looks at you the same way, you know,” she persisted.

“What way?”

“Like you’re the light of his life. His reason for waking up in the morning,” she said, swooning dramatically, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Ali threw a romper at her and watched as she dodged it just before it hit her in the face. 

“Shut up!” 

Emma laughed and walked back over to the pile on the floor, sifting through it and pulling out a simple black dress. 

“Wear this. It’s simple enough for what he has planned, but it shows just enough cleavage to keep things interesting,” she said, suggestively raising one of her eyebrows.

“You know what he has planned?” 

Emma nodded and walked out the door without saying another word. 

Ali dressed quietly before observing her reflection critically in the mirror. She sighed, pulling at the hem of the dress nervously.

“Ali!” she heard Cole’s voice call out for her. 

She looked down at her phone and felt the corners of her mouth tug up into a small smile. It was 6:59 PM. Liam always was punctual. She took a deep breath, pulled on her shoes, and made her way out to the living room. 

Liam was standing in the middle of the living room with a few grocery bags in his hand, and Cole and Ezra were standing next to him, trying unsuccessfully to make themselves look intimidating. 

“Okay, boys, come along,” Emma said, placing her hands on both of their shoulders. “Have fun.”

She threw Ali a smile over her shoulder and led the guys out of the apartment. Ali waved goodbye awkwardly and looked over at Liam questioningly. 

“I wanted to make you dinner. I convinced them to leave the apartment for the night,” he said raising the bags in his hands.

“How did you manage that?” she asked, taking one of the bags from him and walking over to the kitchen. 

“Well, I didn’t do it so much as I asked Emma to,” he confessed, pulling a smile from Ali.

She began emptying the grocery bag and had to refrain herself from laughing as she looked over canned tomatoes, package of uncooked spaghetti, and various herbs.  

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked, smiling widely and turning to look at him.

“I know it didn’t exactly go well the first time, but I promise I’m better at it now,” he said, walking up to her and placing his hands on her waist. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Even in her heels he needed to lean down a considerable amount to press the small kiss to her forehead. He was about to pull away, when she made a split second decision and grabbed onto his cheeks with both of her hands. She pushed herself up onto her toes the best she could in her heels and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, and I’m helping this time. I still don’t know how you managed to ruin boxed spaghetti like that,” she said, pulling away and moving over to the cabinet where she and the Larsons kept their pots and pans. 

~~~

Ali took a deep breath before knocking on the door to Liam’s apartment. This was their first real date. Well, technically it was their second. The “first” had been when he decided to tag along with her and the kids she was babysitting as they went to a small cafe after a library visit. 

To say she was nervous was an understatement. She was excited too, of course. She had been practically bouncing in place when he called and asked to see her again, but she was definitely nervous. 

“Hey, you look beautiful,” Liam said, opening the door to let her in. 

He pulled her into a hug and placed a gentle kiss to her forehead before shutting the door behind her. Ali couldn’t help but notice that his face was flushed and his hair was mussed slightly. 

She took in the large apartment. It was filled with modern furniture, and the tall windows in the living room gave a beautiful view of the lights from the buildings around them. She followed Liam into the spacious kitchen where a few pots and pans were set up on the stove, one of them emitting copious amounts of smoke.

“Your apartment is gorgeous,” she said, looking out at the counter where she could see all of the ingredients necessary for pasta and homemade tomato sauce spread out. 

There as a smaller dining room table set up a little way off from the kitchen with two place settings and a few candles.

“Do you cook very often?” she asked, as she watched him open a bottle of wine and pour two glasses for them. 

“Not… exactly,” he said, smiling sheepishly. 

“Oh?” she asked hesitantly. 

She wasn’t trying to offend him, but when he had offered to make her dinner she assumed that he had some kind of cooking experience. It didn’t help that he was looking slightly frantic. 

“I’m not very much of a chef, but this is a recipe that my mother used to make when I was a child. She wasn’t the best cook either, but this was the one thing she always made well,” he said with a fond smile. “I thought I would give it a try myself.” 

“Do you need any help?” she asked.

“No, just relax,” he said, handing one of the glasses and motioning for her to sit down at one of the stools by the kitchen counter. “I think it’s almost done.”

Ali did as he instructed and took a sip of the dark liquid. She had never been much of a wine person. Being a broke college student meant that she typically went with whatever alcohol she could afford. However, Ali took one more quick glance around the apartment and concluded that Liam probably didn’t have the same problem. She typically tried not to judge financial status based on where a person lived considering she herself lived in a penthouse even though she was drowning in student debt and barely made any money babysitting. But, it was obvious from the way Liam dressed and carried himself that he had expensive tastes and was able to afford his lifestyle. It wasn’t that he was pompous or arrogant, but he did seem to carry himself with an air of confidence. Or, at least he usually seemed to. 

“Are you sure you don’t want a hand?” she asked again, as he cursed under his breath. 

He was lifting the lid of the smoking pot with one oven-mitt covered hand and holding a piece of parmesan cheese awkwardly with the other as if he didn’t know what to do with it. 

“Um, no. Everything’s okay,” he said, turning to her a strained smile on his face. 

Ali held back a laugh as a timer went off on his phone, and his eyes widened dramatically.

“What was that for?” he mumbled to himself frantically. 

She pushed herself off of the stool and took the cheese from his hand, placing it on the counter. A faint burning smell was filling the air, and he seemed to panic even more. 

“Liam, just breathe for a second. Turn off the alarm,” she instructed. 

He nodded and silenced the noise before turning back to her for further instructions. She kicked off her heels and slipped the oven mitt off of his hand before placing it on her own. 

Upon opening the first pot she was met with the sight of clearly overcooked spaghetti. It seemed that Liam hadn’t boiled enough water in the first place and had then left the pasta on the heat for too long. The noodles were floating in about an inch of water, and most of them seemed to be stuck together. 

Ali turned off the heat and transferred the pot onto one of the cool burners before moving to the next one, which seemed to be the source of the burning smell. This pot had been the one he was attempting to make the sauce in. When she stirred the contents, she realized that they began to stick to the bottom of the container. She turned the burner off and moved the pan off of the heat before turning to look at him with a mixture of a cringe and a smile on her face. 

“So, the pasta may be a little over cooked, and the sauce may have some… charred bits, but I’m sure it’ll still taste fine,” she said in a voice that didn’t sound at all convincing. 

Liam sighed, a disappointed look in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s still pretty early. I know a great pizza place about fifteen minutes away. They deliver,” she said, taking out her phone and already dialing the number. 

~~~

“It wasn’t that bad,” Liam laughed as he prepared to snap the bundle of spaghetti in half. 

“Liam, that spaghetti was both overcooked and undercooked at the same time. Wait! Don’t do that!” she laughed, putting down the piece of garlic that she was mincing. 

“I was trying to fit it in the pot.”

“Isn’t it like completely against all cooking rules?” she said, rummaging through the cabinet to get a bigger pot. 

“Is that really a thing?” 

“I think so,” she responded, filling the pot with water and letting it boil as she returned to the garlic. 

Liam came up behind her and pressed his chest against her back, his arms wrapping around her waist as he watched her work in silence. She finished up what she was doing and made sure that the tomato sauce was cooking on the stove before turning to look at him, catching sight of the parmesan on the counter from the corner of her eye. 

“Hey, if I lean my head back will you grate cheese into my mouth?” she asked with a wide smile. 

Liam threw his head back and laughed.

“Wait, you’re serious?” he questioned, his eyebrows raised at her ridiculous request. 

“Completely.”

He rolled his eyes playfully and took the cheese in one hand and the grater in the other. He positioned it perfectly so that the small shreds of cheese fell directly into her mouth as he began to grate it. She chewed on the cheese happily as she brought her head back up and placed the items back on the counter.

“Did you enjoy that?” Liam asked, looking her over with an amused expression.

“Oh, definitely,” she said, walking over to where he had taken a seat at the kitchen table. 

He carefully brushed the remnants of cheese off of the front of her dress, and she looked down at him fondly. He smiled back up at her, his arms curling around her hips and pulling her so that she was standing between his open legs. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he said. “I don’t think I know anyone else who would have done that.”

“You mean no one in Cordonia likes to have fun?” she joked, watching as he threw his head back and laughed. 

“Not quite like that,” he responded, pulling her into a soft kiss. 

She kissed him back lovingly, running her fingers slowly through his hair.

“I missed you too,” she whispered against his lips. 

The pair stayed wrapped in each other’s embrace, their lips moving together slowly as their food cooked on the stove. They were pulled out of their bubble by the timer going off on Ali’s phone. They moved away from each other and finished making dinner in a comfortable silence. 

The recipe was simple enough, and spaghetti with tomato sauce wasn’t a crazy concept, so Ali was surprised to realize just how flavorful the food actually was when she took the first bite. 

“Okay, we have to do the Lady and the Tramp thing before we finish,” she said as their meal progressed. 

She put one strand of spaghetti in her mouth and watched with enjoyment as Liam struggled to put the other end in his without breaking it They both began to move toward each other, the strand of pasta getting smaller as it disappeared into their respective mouths. Their lips met in a playful kiss in the middle, and Ali pulled back with a satisfied smile. As they looked into each other’s eyes, she fought back the urge to tell him that she loved him, opting instead to make small talk.

“So catch me up on everything,” she said, turning back to her food and allowing them to fall into an easy conversation. 

After dinner they retired to the couch, bellies full and both completely relaxed. 

“Dinner was amazing. I still can’t believe you fucked the recipe up that much the first time,” Ali laughed as she lay back.

Her feet were propped up in Liam’s lap, and he was gently massaging them as she lay across the couch, her head resting on the arm of it. She was glad that they had been able to do his mother’s recipe justice. Everything turned out perfect this time.

“Well, in my defense, I’d never tried cooking before that point,” he said.

“You literally couldn’t boil water,” she argued. 

Liam rolled his eyes good-naturedly and smiled at her. 

“Just out of curiosity, how expensive was that bottle of wine? The one we drank that night.”

“I’m not sure. Maybe three or four hundred dollars,” he answered, causing her to laugh.

“So we drank $400 wine with pizza that cost about $15. Wow, that’s like a perfect representation of our relationship,” she joked.

“How do you mean?” he asked, moving his hand up to massage her calf. 

Ali sighed contentedly at his actions, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her body.

“Expensive and put together,” she said, pointing at him. “And not,” she gestured back to herself. 

Liam looked at her curiously for a moment, but didn’t respond, and the two of them settled into a comfortable silence. It was easy for them to be together like this. It was comfortable, and it felt natural. It felt right. But, they weren’t allowed to have this. They weren’t allowed to have a simple life together like this. 

“What are you thinking about?” Liam said quietly, pulling Ali out of her thoughts. 

Ali looked into his eyes and pulled herself up into a sitting position. She began fiddling with the top button of his shirt nervously. 

“I’m happy, but I wish I wasn’t.” “Why?” he asked, his touch gentle against the skin of her thigh. 

“Because this isn’t fair. None of this is. I should have to uproot my entire life to be happy with you,” she said, looking up and realizing how close her face was to his. 

“I know. I hate that you have to,” he whispered. “I wish I could give you the life together I promised you back then. I wish I could give everything you deserve.”

Ali’s heart was hammering in her chest as she felt his breath on her face. He was saying all of the right things. It was somehow everything she wanted to hear, but also the worst thing she could imagine. She wanted to say no to going back with him. She wanted to believe that all of her feelings for him were gone, so she would be able to go on living her regular life and pretend like this never happened once he was gone again. 

But, she knew there was no hope of that as she found herself reaching up to pull him into a kiss. She threw one leg over his lap, straddling him as her kisses became more frantic. Liam’s hand gripped the back of her thighs roughly as his lips moved against hers. She tugged on his hair, and he broke away from her mouth before beginning to press kisses down her jaw and neck. After a moment he pulled away from her skin, trying his best to restrain himself. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. 

She pulled him back into another kiss. This one slower and more passionate.

“Not at all.”   

[shaolinbynature]

The Alison We See Isn’t Alison

This isn’t some elaborate theory but more focused on the little things that I’ve side-eyed. Have you noticed when Alison got back, she’s been more lowkey and clueless? Some say it’s because Bethany (Alison’s twin) took Alison’s place while the real Alison is still lurking in the shadows. I highly recommend the in-depth theory of this idea which is a video on YT. It’s on the long side (an hour and twenty minutes) but it’s oh, so juicy.

However, I’m just pointing out things to go along with the Bethany has taken Alison’s place theory. The main points here is Alison’s sudden lack of knowledge that we’ve all noticed. Starting from when “Alison” just came back.

One would think that Alison would want her gang of girls to walk her during school because this is her first day back and she should have some kind of support system. But what if I told you it was because it was “Alison’s” first time being in Rosewood High and she needed her friends to lead her to places without seeming like she’s lost? Bethany has been locked up for majority of her life and with this new identity, she has to make it seem like everything is normal. Even if she has absolutely no idea what to do sometimes.

From there, Bethany has been continuing Alison’s identity through the journals she used to write. You know, the journals Alison kept so the girls could “continue her legacy”?

Bethany found the diaries and studied them front to back - memorizing every little detail so she could pull this off flawlessly. However, she couldn’t continue the nastiness that was Alison’s sense of ownership over the girls. That’s the difference between them. Alison feels like she’s a god towards the girls while Bethany cherishes the friendship. Isn’t it weird how throughout the early seasons of the show when Alison appeared to the girls in “hallucinations”, she’s acted exactly how she was before she “died” but as soon as she comes back, she’s completely different and less dominate? How could she be completely cryptic, talking to Aria in true Alison fashion one moment-

Then 3 weeks later (In PLL Time season 3-5a was A MONTH), be this completely vulnerable girl who is trying to stay lowkey and blend with the curtains? 

The entire demeanor and aura has changed, it’s like two different people…

I also think this explains that weird thing that happened between Alison and Caleb in season 5. We all believed that maybe Alison knew Caleb from somewhere and they were keeping it hush, hush from everyone else. But maybe….that’s not it. From the journals, Bethany knew Ezra, Toby, and Paige, which counted for all of the girls’ romances but last time Alison was around, Hanna was on the thick side and had no romantic interests. Now, Hanna is with Caleb. And it made Bethany nervous. He was the only person she had no background information on and it worried her. This is why her guard was always up with him - what if he finds out about her secret?

(Even when Ali apologized to Paige, her apology was very basic. “I was mean. I’m sorry. For everything.” She couldn’t go into specifics because she didn’t know them. In that moment, it’s better to play the “for everything” card to be safe and cover all bases.)

However, although it was used as a blueprint, Alison didn’t write everything in those journals. That’s where Bethany had to freestyle. But sometimes, she wouldn’t know exactly what to say in certain situations. For example in 7x16 when Emily asked a question that she and the viewers have been dying to know since season 1:

Just when we thought we were going to figure out the reason behind Alison’s behavior towards Emily years ago, we get an “I don’t know”. That’s because Bethany doesn’t know why Alison treated Emily the way she did - she never wrote that in the journals. Even going into 7x18 with Emison’s intimate moment, “Alison” said she dreamed of them at the kissing rock. Did she really dream of it…….or did she read about Alison’s little idea and just went from there?

That would explain why so many Emisonians wonder why Alison never brought up their history with the kissing rock - it’s because Bethany doesn’t know it. Also, this sentence said by Alison was also a bit odd.

Emily and Alison escaping to Paris was a dream, something she had in Welby but her leaving? Where to? It can’t be her wanting to leave Rosewood because she made the active decision to stay while everyone else left so that brings us back to leaving where again. Alison did in fact leave. She left when she “died” - that wasn’t a dream but her reality for 2 years. But if this was Bethany, her wanting to leave Radley for so long……that could be a dream she had. A long-term fantasy.

This Bethany turned Alison change would also make sense why “Alison” has a soft spot for Charlotte. Majority of us and even the liars cannot understand the reason WHY Alison would pick Charlotte over the girls. Charlotte tortured them, trapped them in a dollhouse, almost killing them several times and all of a sudden, Alison is sympathetic because “she has a sister” and wants the best for her? Even begging the girls to testify for her release despite everything she has done to them? That was a slap in the face to everyone. The bogus idea of "this is my sister" is exactly that, bogus, and I believe the real reason is because Alison Bethany identifies with Charlotte. They have this sense of relation with being locked up like animals and now that she’s out, she wants to care for Charlotte and get her out as well. That’s why “Alison” kept pushing for the liars to help her, not really caring for their own trauma.

With the possibility of another set of twins running around: whether it being Alison or actually Spencer, there are some pretty interesting evidence stacked up against both of them. Alison specifically.

[wise-lizard]

Fatherly Pride

I have a lot coming up in the next week, but I wanted to do a Father’s Day thing with Kanan and Sabine (I’m a sucker for bonding between them because we never really get to see it, so gotta make my own).

There’s a few slight references to dialogue from earlier seasons, so congratulations if you can find them! (There’s like... 2 and 1/2? I think? Wait no, 3 and 1/2, 4 and 1/2 if I try hard enough.)

@pep-no, I partially blame you for the dialogue references.

Set just after the Season Three Finale, during the trip to Yavin 4.

Title: Fatherly Pride

Author: Liz Roberts

Show: Star Wars Rebels

Word Count: 1,371

Set: Hyperspace, en route to Yavin 4, Post-Season Three Finale

“Kanan?”

Lifting his head up, Kanan turns towards his door slightly, grunting when the motion aggravates the muscle pull in his neck further. His crash on Atollon finally started catching up to him a few hours ago, his shoulders sporting a dull ache now that he’s managed a couple minutes of healing meditation. Patting the shoulder of the rebel under the blanket, Kanan stands.

He puts on a soft smile and heads towards the door, stepping softly so he doesn’t wake the other rebels sleeping on the floor of his cabin. His hand goes out to the signature at the door, Sabine stepping forward to meet him.

Without hesitation, she wraps her arms around him and ducks her chin down to her chest plate.

“Hey kiddo… you doin’ alright?”

She nods softly, her hair catching on his shirt.

“Better than some of our guests…”

When Kanan wraps around her shoulders, she physically relaxes, the tension she’s holding in starting to melt away. She stays silent for a moment, just hugging him before she speaks up, her voice just above a whisper.

“Can we talk…?”

Opening his eyes and blinking down at the top of her head in surprise, Kanan rubs one of her shoulders.

“‘course… c’mon… I think the cockpit’s still empty.”

Sabine answers with a nod, letting go of Kanan so he can step out of his cabin. The door slides closed behind him, leaving the rebels to sleep in peace. An arm lays back over Sabine’s shoulders as they walk down the hall, Sabine tugging on the back of his shirt out of instinct to guide him around people sitting along the walls.

Tilting his head towards her, he lowers his head and his voice.

“You still have your armor on… have you gotten any rest?”

She doesn’t answer for a few seconds, her shoulders going stiff.

“Not yet… I was talking with Hera… and my mother. I’m fine though, I’ll take a nap soon… Tristian’s using my bunk right now to sleep.”

Kanan straightens up and takes a deep breath, nodding slowly. He can feel how fatigued she really is, wishing for once that she wouldn’t be so stubborn. A small smile appears on his face in the next second, remembering that he and Hera have more than likely been the enablers for the stubbornness over the last few years. Shaking his head and avoiding a laugh at the thought, he steps into the cockpit.

Sabine slips out from under his arm to her regular chair, glancing up at him after he closes the door and takes his seat in front of her.

“So what’s up?”

Swallowing hard, Sabine looks back down to the durasteel plating of the floor and shuffles her hands underneath her legs.

“I’m sorry…”

“Come again?”

The surprise in Kanan’s voice is evident, not having expected the words that came out of her mouth. He shifts forward in his seat as she stares at the ground, placing his forearms on his knees so he’s leaning closer to her, feeling the shift in her signature.

“I’m sorry… I… I apologized to Hera, earlier… for not coming back with you guys, after going to find my mother… Maybe if I had been here, I could have gotten the shields to hold up longer, we could have gotten more back up… So I’m sorry. I left when you guys needed me most, and that’s never been something I’ve wanted to do…”

Kanan immediately shakes his head and puts a hand out, putting it on Sabine’s knee. He shifts it a little so his thumb isn’t just rubbing the guard and lifts his eyes to be level with her lowered forehead.

“Sabine, you have nothing to apologize for. You needed to stay, you have a duty to your family, your home… We all understood that, and Hera did, too – she does. We don’t blame you for that.”

He stops for a moment and his thumb goes still. His eyes widen a second later, a thought dawning on him.

“Bean… Are… You’re feeling guilty for not being at the base…”

There’s a very quiet ‘yes’ from in front of him, just before he gets out of his seat and kneels in front of Sabine. He moves his hands up and finds her face, rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks before lifting her head enough so she’ll look at him. His face softens when she lets out a small breath, knowing that his eyes found their mark again.

“We don’t know what would have happened if you had been at Chopper Base… yes, maybe the shields would have held out longer, but you prepped us as much as you could… but without you, we wouldn’t have been able to make a break for it to hyperspace. As much of smooth talker as he is, I don’t think Ezra would have been able to convince your mother to lend support if you hadn’t been there.”

Kanan smiles and runs his hand up through the shorter side of her hair.

“We got out because you helped us get out… you showed up right when we needed you to, and you did amazing… as always.”

Taking a deep breath in, Sabine smiles and leans into the hand still on her cheek. She lets the breath out in the next moment, her body deflating a little.

“I was so worried when Ezra showed up… and then when we saw the fleet surrounding Atollon… Kanan, I was so worried we were too late.”

“That’s the thing about you, Sabine. You’re always right on time… It’s a little scary, considering how often I’d change the plan on you.”

Sabine breathes out a laugh and shakes her head, bringing a hand out from under her leg to rub her eyes and the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah… that’s not as fun as you think it is.”

Kanan laughs and smiles up at her, his skin wrinkling around his eyes and the scar. Putting a hand out, he sits back on the floor, his smile softening as Sabine takes his hand.

“Gotta keep you on your toes somehow…”

The two sit there in silence for a while, Sabine processing the conversation as Kanan watches her signature, some of the tension leaving and letting it grow brighter again. The colors are still there, but the vibrancy is taking longer to come back, he notes, showing just how much the whole ordeal had taken on a toll on her – despite not being there for the first and second waves.

He tugs on her hand gently. He scoots back until the bottom of his shoulder blades are pressed to the edge of his seat, crossing his legs. Sabine moves down to the floor, hesitating a moment before sitting down in Kanan’s lap. She sighs quietly and rests her head down on his shoulder, relaxing as he hugs her again and puts his chin on her head.

“I meant what I said on Mandalore, Bean…”

“Don’t you dare… I didn’t let you say it then, I won’t now.”

“Bean.”

“Kanan.”

Huffing slightly, Kanan smiles above her. Shifting, he presses a soft kiss to her hair, squeezing her gently.

“I’m proud of you, Sabine – no, hush, let me finish – I’m proud of you, and who you’ve become. Watching you grow up from when we picked you up, it’s been astounding – if not frustrating, but Hera’s had to deal with me all these years, so… you’ve become an amazing warrior, an amazing young woman, and we couldn’t have asked for a better crew member.”

He stops for a moment and smiles as he closes his eyes.

“We couldn’t have asked for a better daughter.”

Sabine stays still for a few minutes after he finishes, her eyes wide now. They start to turn glossy as she turns to hug him, staring out over his shoulder as she starts trying to blink away the tears threatening to come forward. She smiles into his shoulder and shakes her head.

“Yeah well… I guess I was raised right.”

Kanan lets out a short laugh and hugs her, keeping his arms wrapped around her.

“Thank you, Kanan.”

“Anytime, Bean. We love you, don’t forget that.”

“I love you, too.”

[throughlookinglass]

My -AD predictions for the PLL Finale.

Hey there! I’m waiting for the PLL Finale and i honestly don’t know how i will handle this, PLL has been with me for many years – 4? 5 maybe? I’ve lost count – and i can’t believe it’s over, i’m crying already and i feel so freaking bad. However, let’s not get into this because it is an endless circle of pain. These are my –AD predictions, from who I would like AD to be to who I’d rather die than discover to be AD.

My IDEAL culprit: the person I would want to be AD more than anyone else is Ali. First seasons Ali really left an impression on me and I've never actually liked her much, I never thought she was completely changed and I don’t like her. Even if it is quite clear she is a new person now, and I know that it is basically impossible she is AD, if I could make my own rules I would choose her. Wouldn’t it be awesome to have that old Ali on the show? Just like she has never left. Think about it, that’s how it all started. It would be freaking amazing. Also, there’s a gif posted by the PLL official twitter account where you can see the four liars (no Ali) revealing AD’s identity by taking off his/her mask, and Emily’s reaction seems to point in my ideal direction – but maybe not, it’s just the different actings, the other girls don’t look as freaked out as her.

Most likely ADs: as it happened with Charlotte, I think that AD will actually be someone predictable. I may not guess who, but it won't be such a big deal for the person him/herself, whereas it might be for this person's story and background (yep, still thinking about Charlotte). Firstly, there’s Jenna. She has all the reasons, but I don’t think she is the one. She keeps coming and going away, being AD would give a real change to her lately plain and boring character but I just don’t know. It would be cool, I just think they will keep her boring.

I know that Wren is a primary suspect (seen talking with Spencer at the airport, etc) because he was always ""supposed"" to be linked to A in some way and he still isn’t... but he is shown firing a gun in the promo and looks quite scared to me, so I wouldn’t count too much on him. Honestly, I would just hate that. 

Also, I think they could bring up someone like Jason for a very distorted reason, or more likely someone like Paige!!! (her storyline is similar to Mona's, Emily is an important character in S7, she could be a psycho and also she gave me pretty spooky vibes lately). 

Not taking bout the others here but still, you get the point: not so unexpected characters are most likely. Melissa? I don't know, I don't think so. Even if the Hastings/DeLaurentis storyline is major, it would be boring as hell not to mention completely messed up. 

Among these, I would personally rather see (and I also think they are the best fit for AD) Jason or Page. I know Marlene has said we will notice AD was plain in the open since the beginning (of S7? Of the whole series?), and just think about it, they could certainly fit such a storyline for Jason (they could bring up addiction and mental health). I like Jason a lot, he’s the only Di Laurentis I like, but I would still like him if he was AD, I think the story behind it could be just so well developed and interesting.

Moving on to Mona, yeah it would be cool but she’s not AD, just move on guys.

What I think about some of the main suspect, Lucas: his storyline would have sense (quite similar to Mona’s, if you have noticed) and yeah, he gives me that spooky vibe sometimes but he just seems like a nice guy (you say, that’s exactly the point of AD) and I just hope he is not AD. It’s not about the background, because he would surely be a good choice the actually-not-so-nice-guy etc etc, but it’s just that I would see Lucas being AD as a copy of Mona being A in the first seasons, like her bad copy if you would say that, it would just have me so disappointed.

And finally, two suspects I’d rather DO ANYTHING YOU ASK ME LITERALLY ANYTHING than discover to be AD: first one is Caleb. I know, I know, I wasn’t even planning to write about him at the start of this small post, but there seem to be rumors about him spreading around. If he actually IS AD, this would mean he has faked it since the beginning of S1 and that you guys is SEVEN FREAKING SEASONS. He would be, like, the best antagonist of all series ever made and so freaking epic! BUT, Caleb is such a great character the way he is, he has had a major development and is basically the only one you can always count on in PLL; he is a certainity, he is THE main man of the show and you cannot deny it, he could basically be the protagonist. Caleb being AD could give him a totally unexpected storyline (maybe, maybe not, I don’t know if I should trust the writers on this one) but there’s NO FREAKING WAY everything caleb is, all he has been through, his relationship with Hanna (cancel S*aleb), his role in the story… there’s no way this is all a lie. Caleb is one of the best characters on the show, I feel like he is AD main opponent most of the time and he cannot be AD. He just can’t – this turned out less rational and more emotional than I wanted it to be, I want to write it again but I know that I would fail if I try, so I hope you got what I meant. 

Last but not least, EZRA FREAKING FITZGERALD DO YOU HEAR ME MARLENE DO NOT EVEN TRY TURNING EZRA INTO AD. Let me explain: Ezra has always been one of my favorites, I could even say he is my favourite of the show, and I swear if they take AD’s mask off and Ezra’s under it I will go out of my mind (and scare all the neighbourhood) so please make sure I am okay – I will probably post pictures of me crying and dying on the floor so you can check out my twitter too @njghtlock. It looks like Ezra is a major suspect lately, I see his name everywhere I look (so maybe that’s exactly why he won’t be AD, but anyways) and a couple things that happened made me really afraid. Ezra has been there since the start and he did have a backstory with Alison plus he could have other motives. He did lie to Aria once, what if he kept doing it? Again, it was said that AD is somebody who has been there since the beginning BUT, they assure us, nobody is suspecting of. Nobody would suspect of Ezra now: why would they? But all the stuff with Nicole, the trips, the books, how he was given more screen time in the last few episodes… twitter is really scaring me right now and yeah, they could make a hell of a storyline (even far better than Caleb’s being AD, I assure you), but it would totally break my heart – and the love I have had for Ezria since 2012/3 or so. I wasn’t even planning to write about him, but doing this just makes me think even more that my heart will actually be broken. BUT HELL NO, I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THIS!!!!!!! Also,anytime a character is the most quoted it turns out it’s not him. So it is not Ezra, alright??? Stop bullying me!!!

Prepare your tissues and your popcorns, the PLL Endgame Finale is about to start. 

It has been a pleasure to live this all with you, PLL Family. I will miss this with all my heart.

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Naturally I'm like "which of my Shepards left a video" and it's Ezra the only one who lived who left one just for Steve. Because you know. He can't widow Steve a second time in like a year without saying a little something, in case they actually win the war Steve survives and he doesn't. They're in "live for today" mode, and Ezra doesn't want to spoil that, spoil what they have now with maybes, so a video message for after is perfect. It's kind of fun and cathartic and he ends up making one for everybody. It's nothing they don't already know really, nothing he hasn't said at some point (Ezra wears his feelings on his sleeve), but it's nice to say, and he can say goodbye without spoiling the now. It's taken care of; he can focus on the task at hand (which for the first time in 3 years has a hope of success).

Miles says everything he wants to say to Kaidan beforehand. They're brothers in arms and whatnot after all, seasoned soldiers who have each seen their share of death. They both know the score. They're both all too aware it could all be over anytime, that one of them or both of them might not make it, and so they say everything to each other that would need to be said beforehand.

Garnet...it just never crosses her mind to do such a thing. She's too focused on the task at hand to think about failure. She never entertains the thought of dying and leaving something unsaid, or needing to leave something behind. She trudges on with singular focus, because believing it's possible is the first step towards achieving it. Anything less and she wouldn't give it her all, and the whole galaxy needs her all and then some. Maybe sometime near the end, around the Shepard clone fiasco, she realizes she's never given anything to Liara. They've never had the chance to do something so small and normal as buy gifts for each other. So many pauses in their relationship. So much to always do. In a more normal time, Liara would be showered with gifts, but as things were...well, something small would do, for now (always had to keep some cash for armor and weapons and upgrades; Liara understood, right?). Just this once, Garnet allows herself a "just in case". (Asari are long-lived after all; though was it selfish to want to make an impression so they'll remember you? Well, maybe, but Garnet's doing it anyway because treating women right isn't something you turn off). But there isn't time for the grand overt ideas she has, and besides, does anything beat helping her take out the shadow broker? Maybe a necklace. Or a brooche she can pin on. That would be nice.