AU where Ben gets help driving Snoke out of his mind and lives happily ever after.
Tag: crying about it
“He is incredibly modest and profoundly hard on himself. He’s not an actor who loves to watch himself after a take on a monitor. He’s not someone who might ever choose to watch a performance he’s given — which is really too bad, because if he were able to, he’d probably really like what he saw.”
— J. J. Abrams
You caught me, handsome prince. Where are we going?
I’m taking you home.
The sea is my home too.
Techie, we just made up let’s not fight again.
I like making up though.
Yeah.
–
Matt and Techie’s don’t often fight but when they do, the fights are legendary, often Techie’s instinct will make him leave land for sometimes weeks at a time. Matt worries a lot, especially the first time it happened, he thought for sure he’d lost him forever.
When Techie has cooled down and is ready to come home he’ll swim in the shallow parts until Matt notices him and then they’ll say very awkward “sorry”s from 20 meters apart and walk back to their little house and make up properly.
I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map
And knew that somehow I could find my way back
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with youCosmic Love – Florence + The Machine
Inspired by @thewightknight ‘s request for lazy cuddles on a blanket under the stars
He’d given over everything he was to the First Order, to the
Supreme Leader. His childhood, the Jedi,
his family, and soon he’d give this up as well.
Not because he was ordered to, no, because that order would be for an
execution, he knew. No, he’d end this
himself before it came to that. It would
have to be soon, he knew. He couldn’t hide it much longer. He’d planned to tonight, but the surprise
attack had almost taken them both and he found he couldn’t deny himself the
reassurance that they’d both survived the ambush. It would be at least another day until
reinforcements arrived and he’d allow himself that one more day. Then he’d end
it. He’d be strong. It wouldn’t be enough to tuck it away, to
hide it in some corner of his mind. He’d
have to rip it out, shred it, make sure no fragment of affection remained on
either side. It was the only way.He couldn’t allow sleep to steal a second of tonight from
him. Instead he’d watch and allow
himself to imagine what might have been, a lifetime of watching the glow his of
skin under the stars, the rise and fall of his chest, the brush of lashes
against his cheek, the stillness, the peace that only came from slumber. Just for the night. One more night. One last night.
dispatches from the dumpster 