#I know I say this every post but please ignore the mistakes I am struggling 😔

[prinzunderground]

Did you know that Walibi Belgiums motto is ‘you can never have enough shuttles’

no seriously they have three that opened nearly 20 years apart from each other

[areus-in-a-little-cave]

I haven't seen anyone post it so here's Shelby's second statement on Twitter:

[Image ID: Two screenshots of text written by Shubble and posted on @/shelbygraces on Twitter. They read: "I've thought a lot about what I would say when I came back. Firstly I want to say the biggest thank you to everyone showing their support. I have never felt so loved and cared for. And I've never seen so many communities come together to have somebody's back like this. I'm so proud of everyone taking such a powerful stance against these actions. I never could have imagined this response. While I didn't do this for myself, through sharing my story I have healed more parts of myself I had no idea were still pained.

I'd like to address the apology. Quite frankly I've never seen an apology so self centered. It seems to purposely misconstrue the issue I very clearly laid out. My issue was not with being bit. It was with being HURT. And to vaguely apologize for "any hurt" while knowing we needed a safe word because I was being hurt so often on accident, and I continued to be hurt daily, is incredibly disrespectful. But not more disrespectful than not even saying my name. I believe I am referred to as "ex girlfriend" so if you don't know who he's talking about, you might now find out what he did. This is not how you take accountability.

Not only are there no dms whatsoever where it is expressed that I enjoy being hurt by my partner, to imply there was consent in text over an issue that entirely happened in person, where every conversation about it happened in person, is ridiculous. He knows how often I asked him to stop hurting me, that I didn't like it and that I didn't like being covered in bruises all the time. Entirely why he switches to biting my legs, so no one would think I looked abused. But he continued to hurt me. He either didn't take my pleas for it to stop seriously, or he didn't hear them at all.

I felt lost for so long, truly losing myself in this relationship. I abandoned my personal morals, neglected friends and lied for this person. With every time I spoke up being ignored, I shrank. I lost my fight. I stayed locked in a house I had no key for and didn't even try to leave anymore. People ask why we stay, and it's so hard to explain ourselves because we've abandoned all our reasoning. I wasn't safe anymore with this person but I couldn't see that. I loved him and he told me he'd try to stop hurting me.

I'm deeply saddened by how many more friends were hurt by his actions. But I'm so thankful to everyone doing the absolute most in making sure I've been ok over the last few days. Thank you to everyone who's reached out to me. Thank you #ShubbleSupportSquad, every day I read your messages and see your art, and it makes me feel truly like the bravest girl in the world. I think the good that comes out victims sharing their experiences so others can learn and avoid similar pain, or come to terms with ways they were mistreated, is the most important thing in this moment.

You cannot treat people this way without consequence. You cannot pretend you don't know the harm you cause. You cannot pretend going to therapy fixes all past mistakes. All of the love that's been shared for me over the past few days, is for every victim of abuse. Our lives are forever changed by these experiences. I now struggle with memory problems and extreme anxiety. And it may be awhile before I feel fully like myself, whoever she is. But I know I have my spark back. Please remember how brave and how strong you are. We shouldn't be expected to be silent when we are mistreated." End ID]

[sams-venting]

Having to break my word to come here and remind people if they are uncomfortable with us. If they do not like us. If they disagree with us then to block us. We will leave you alone.

The post with our updated username not only is spreading it maliciously to get more people to hate us but also contains false information. Two times now I have owned up to what I did. Both on my own blog saying what I did and the biased blog where I vented/self reflected on everything. I gave more context to the story there, you do not have to believe us, we’re not going to force you. But please, TSBS community, respect us and we will respect you. I can grab screenshots that I have accounts blocked. I have witness testimony that I am no longer harming minors. I have physical evidence that all of my messages to minors do not contain anything illegal. I do not want to have to go there due to it being a violation of our privacy and also everyone else’s privacy who we interact with but we are no predator. We are no groomer. Please stop spreading false information about us. It was a year ago. We saw that us calling it a mistake was bad but we genuinely don’t know what else to call it due to the fact the situation wasn’t calculated. It wasn’t done with the purpose of grooming. And ever since we realized we have stopped and never did those same actions. We have realized our pettiness and are doing what we can to improve that (No longer name or username dropping despite our own disagreements with it). With the personality disorder comment we now see how it comes across as ablest, we’re professionally diagnosed with autism. We massively struggle with social interactions and what is and isn’t okay to do. Our apologies go out to the people we offended with our comment on the pd.

We kindly ask for people to leave us alone. The username change was purely done for our own happiness and is being twisted into us running away. We are not. If we were we wouldn’t be actively breaking our word here due to the fact if we made a post on our account it would be ignored. As soon as we changed our user we stated our reasons, please do not put words into our mouth. Do you think I would actively admit to what I did if I was running away? Do you think I would actively apologize and make attempts first thing to get better if I was a abuser? Do you think I would be actively telling my minor friends to not interact with nsfw material if I was a groomer? Do you think I would actively date adults if I was a predator? There is logs of my actions after everything went down and I have been actively trying. We are tired of this community twisting every single action we do into something horrible, putting words into our mouth, block evasion. We have been actively trying to avoid the people we do not like us and have been making posts saying to get off of our page.

Hell is pathed with good intentions. For over a year now we have seen our faults. We are not forcing you to give us your patience. To give us a second chance. That is completely up to you, it is a personal choice. But please leave my friends alone. Leave us alone. We aren’t in the community anymore. We have left. Please stop spreading misinformation about us

.

[access--granted]

Apologies for keeping this nonsense going, you must be exhausted, so I'm clarifying before I speak - delete this ask if you don't want to address this topic anymore.

Anyway, to offer a different perspective, I have personal substance issues. Life's been lifeing and I eventually turned to not-so-healthy coping mechanisms over the last few months. Fan fiction about this is my safe way of exploring my feelings about it. This widespread assumption that I need a handheld, sugar coated portrayal to cope is offensive. Shying away from difficult topics is censorship. Period. And it is a big issue because it carries a massive real-world impact on those who use fiction to escape. The same cowards criticising you will bang on and on about "representation in media", but won't note their hypocrisy.

I'm not a baby, I don't need the teletubbies to show up and remind everyone that Leon is flawless and a hug willl fix him. The fact that there's a new age approach that hails this crap as gospel, is more dangerous and harmful than one might think. I know it's stupid, but I am utterly fuming on your behalf.

That fic was the first gently thought out, yet brutally realistic piece I've found in AGES (this isn't pressure to repost!!). The fact you were bullied into believing you did something immoral just... it fucking irritates me to no end. I am so tired of this huge scream for censorship, I'm tired. Just don't engage if it triggers you, it's that easy. The rest of us adults have every right to explore darker aspects through fiction because it is SAFE. It's safe and it helps people. Talented writing is a life skill. It truly is. (Also on an amusing note: if they think me exploring his drinking habits is sinful, I would he sent straight to prison for the smut I read, lmfao!)

I'll end it by saying THANK YOU for the effort that you made. If it's better for your mental health not to post about that specific thing anymore, then please don't, but damn I'm not leaving without saying thank you for that honest portrayal of how addiction and alcohol dependency harms people and how it feels for everyone involved. You've got a talent and your empathy is very noticeable. Fuck these puriteens, lmao.

You have nothing to apologise for, anon. I'm certainly not going to shy away from talking about specific topics on my blog just because other people don't know how to ignore content they dislike. I already made the mistake of letting a bully get to me during a low point, resulting in the deletion of a piece I was both proud of and that had all-around mostly positive feedback anyway. I still appreciate your concern, though.

I completely understand that life has been lifeing, as it has been for me, too. I wrote that piece because I want my fics to be inclusive to a more widespread audience so that more people can relate. There's a lot of happily ever after fic out there, even some that completely ignore the struggles that happen in real life, too. So, I thought I'd write something different. I'm all for fluff, smut, romance, etc. But there is so much content for that already. I wanted to, and will continue to, add mature content to my writing, but not in the sense that it's always about getting Leon naked and doing the devil's tango with him.

I'd like to say also that it's not at all stupid for you to be fuming about this; I certainly am, and even more so for letting asshats get to me.

I'm happy that my representation of the issue was well thought out and realistic in your eyes. The thing I was most nervous about, to begin with, was getting things right. While I've never dealt with it personally, I had a very close friend who went through this, and many people left them behind. I will be reposting the fic at some point. I was proud of that work, and nobody will spoil it for me or anyone else who finds some kind of solace in reading it. (Also, same - like, why is exploring real-life struggles so outrageous, yet reading a crap ton of smut isn't? None of it should be a problem for people to explore.)

This topic is in no way detrimental to my mental health. I was just down in the dumps for personal reasons at the time anyway, lmao. Thank you so much for your kind words. I'm touched you think I have talent as a writer, and as a colossal empath, I'm glad it's clear to see.

[wot-tidbits]

Sadly, Winter Dragon is same in one place - its greedy bosses.

What actually is my only point above, is the question - How to approach an adaptation?

Nowhere I said that the people below the producers didn't care. I appreciate the love that went into the costuming and the building of Tar Valon. I respect every person who crafted their skills into the production design. Nowhere I compared Winter Dragon on that regard with these people. It wasn't relevant to my point, so I wasn't clear enough which I can admit is a mistake. I clarify it - my post is not towards everyone involved below the producers and writers' room.

But I can ask the same question back to you. Why you do not appreciate the work shown in Winter Dragon? Very fast you accused me and in the same paragraph repeated my (presumed) "sin" - to ignore what people behind the camera have done. We can see how much work these people invested into with the struggle of little to no budget in Winter Dragon. If we have to compare then we must say that because their bosses wanted to keep the rights and didn’t have time to write anything else so we have to dismiss how they put their heart and soul into the show? Is this sound fair to you?

I am not behind anyone. I just analyze and make conclusions based on what I see and read. Nowhere in my post I assumed what Robert Jordan would have said or done. I only assumed what has happened in two producers' rooms based on what we saw in the final script.

So, yes, I am seriously comparing the question "How to approach an adaptation?" to I Got A Suit At Goodwill It’s Fine Winter Dragon. Not becuase I hate the show. Not because I do not appreciate what the design team have done well in their job. And not becuase Robert Jordan would say otherwise. But because we have evidence what was the answer in both productions to the question of "How to approach an adaptation?"

"Play-by-play, no matter how awful it is made?"

I was very clear on that regard. No one expect play-to-play, 1-to-1 or frame-to-frame from one adaptation. Please, do not fall into this trap.

"Instead we have Harriet, Rafe and Brandon Sanderson doing their best."

Actually we have the exact opposite information. We don't know what Harriet did and how much of the production she approves. We know that Brandon was dismissed on several occasions and we don't know how his advices on the scripts were followed through. We know that he read the scripts of episodes 7 and 8 after they were filmed so he couldn't advice on anything. This is not closely like "their best". Until we have more information and untill they make clear message we can only speculate about what they did.

For final, I want to be clear. Everyone can like and love the show. I am no one to say to people to do otherwise. We debate not what we hate or what we love about the show/Winter Dragon. We debate what happened to the question "How to approach an adaptation?". Huge difference.

Let the Light keep you safe.

Light One

Winter Dragon aged well as adaptation?

Winter Dragon was released 8 years ago in 2015. It was met with huge backlash and fans didn’t like it in general. Its existence became a matter of court case for Team Jordan as the company behind the production created it to keep the TV rights. This is the reason why now Read Eagle Entertainment is involved in the credits on the Prime production. We don’t know the details of their settlement but it seems the case wasn’t successful for Harriet.

8 years ago fans laughed at the bad production that was created at the last possible minute. We took it as a joke but also as a hope for the near future. We waited for new opportunity our beloved book series to be presented on screen. And we received new adaptation. The new TV series created new point of view on Winter Dragon which I didn’t expect at all. If someone have told me back then that a cheap production which goal was to hold the rights on any cost, will treat the source material better than multimillionaire production which had the whole (reasonably) time to prepare, I would definitely think they were mad. But somehow the Pattern wove for us that impossible thread of reality.

We live in a reality where Winter Dragon was created with little effort, little attention and bad acting where the adaptation was afterthought for the process and still the production team valued the storytelling of Robert Jordan more than their own agenda (of fast cash grabbers). They didn’t mean it but in their lack for preparation, as a consequence they trusted the source material to speak for itself and let the audience to judge on its own. No investment in modern political climate, no “fixing” and no attempt to show off how they know better than Robert Jordan. My head cannot fathom how badly you have to fail in your adaptation that one 20-minutes no effort production like Winter Dragon can do better on that regard than yours. How Amazon let it to be possible in the first place?

And my favourite part - no one tried to excuse it how it is "not 1 to 1 adaptation" and to blame book fans for unrealistic expectations. So "bookcloaks" could bash on Winter Dragon with no problem back then but now somehow the same critics to one other TV series are "problematic" and "toxic". This sounds fair.

Let the Light keep you safe.

LightOne

[bvckys-doll]

Masquerade

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: Y/N and her family are invited to a masquerade ball since Netherfield hall has a new owner: Lord James Buchanan Barnes. What (Y/N) does not know is that this will be her last night among the living. 

Warnings: soft!dark themes here! A bit of manipulation. Blood! Pride and Prejudices vibes at the beginning of the fic.

Author’s note: I’m happy that I can finally post this one because I’m a whore for masquerade balls and vampires! Especially Vampire!Bucky! This goes out to @emily-roberts (who can’t be tagged unfortunately) since they inspired me to work on Masquerade here! Maybe this will get a sequel, i’m not sure yet.

You can find my masterlist here!

The year is 1867. Queen Victoria is still in power, and the country is at peace. At least, to the people who are lucky enough to live in the countryside in England. Especially the women who were the ones that learned the least of the ongoing problems around the world. At this time in history, they were mostly excluded from these kinds of conversations. Something (Y/N) was deeply offended by.

Most of the women around her had only one thing on their mind: the latest gossip and men.

Nothing would fit better into the gossip than a mysterious lord who had recently moved into the large estate near Netherfield Park. The whole city was in turmoil, and everyone wanted to get one of the coveted invitations to the grand inauguration party.

(Y/N) could still remember the day a few weeks ago when her mother was running around the house in a rage and talking to herself over and over again. Her father had tried to ignore his wife as much as possible.

“I have heard from Mrs. Brenstock that the new Lord of Netherfield Park is about to give a ball. A ball, Mr. Edwards! Can you imagine that? He doesn’t seem to have sent out any invitations yet, otherwise, we would have gotten one by now, wouldn’t we? Tell me I’m right” she had let herself sink into her chair. With the thick needle in her hand, she repeatedly stabbed her new embroidery cloth.

(Y/N) had been sitting across from her mother at the time and hardly noticed her rambling about the ball, as the young lady was too absorbed in her thoughts about her newest book, which was on the table in front of her.

For her mother, this was finally the chance to marry her off to a rich man. Perhaps even to the owner of the estate himself, since many speculated him to be single. Most women of (Y/N)’s age were already married, some even had children.

It wasn’t that (Y/N) wasn’t very talkative. If she was given a suitable subject, she could chat for hours, but her mother had always preached to her that no man wanted a woman with a loud attitude. Despite all this, (Y/N) didn’t kept her mouth shut and spoke freely about what she thought. Mostly.

It had been a month since that conversation between her parents and (Y/N) was now sitting with them in a carriage on their way to the estate of the new lord of Netherfield Park.

The letter had arrived about two days after the long discussion between her mother and her quiet father. (Y/N) seemed to be more relieved than her mother because she couldn’t bear her constant chatting and complaining about the ball.

In her lap was a white mask that her mother had brought home a few days ago. A masquerade. That was the order of the new landlord. An unusual way to celebrate a party, where you wanted to get to know the locals better, but (Y/N) didn’t put much thought into it.

With a calm look, she peered out of the window of the carriage and could see how the estate grew in the distance. The lights were shining through the high windows towards them as they rode the carriage to the large courtyard, where some other women were already getting out of their carriages and ascending the great marble staircase with their families.

Her father was the first to go out of the carriage, before he helped his wife out. In the end, he reached out to his daughter. For a brief moment, (Y/N) struggled with the wide skirt of her dress, before standing firmly on the ground.

Once again, she let her gaze wander over the courtyard and looked up at the broad facade of the estate. Suddenly (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a silhouette. Someone who seemed to be looking down at them and was watching what was going on. But before (Y/N) could take a closer look, her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her into the hall.

~

Upstairs in the said room, James watched how the carriages gathered in the courtyard and presented the different guests of almost every status. All came to see some of the wealth of the estate and the treasures that were on display in its halls.

“How many people will visit us tonight? Take a guess” Steve asked him. He was sitting at his best friend’s desk and had put his feet on the tabletop while he leaned back.

James’s gaze was still on the staircase as his gaze followed the woman who had just looked up at him. Yet he replied, “More than two hundred, I would say. Enough to get our bellies full for the next month. You’re going to keep them under control, aren’t you? We need posts at every door.”

“Of course. I’ve never worked sloppy before. You should know that”, Steve winked at him before he stood up and drained the last remaining blood out of his cup. The next moment he pulled some gloves out of his jacket and put them on “But answer me one. Why a masquerade?”

“You don’t want anyone to remember us by mistake, do you?”, a dark smile grazed James features. A similar smile came up on Steve’s face before he pulled the mask over his eyes and left.

~

In the meantime, the large ballroom of the estate had filled with guests and a small orchestra on a raised balcony played quiet music.

With all the hustle, (Y/N) wondered if she would even recognize anyone. The masks just made it harder to spot anyone she knew. Maybe she could get away from her mother. Time and time again she looked for familiar eyes.

Nervously, she again smoothed the wrinkles of her skirt and chewed around her lower lip. With each breath, it seemed to her as if the corsage of her dress was still lacing up.

Before her inner rambling could cause her to make her more uncomfortable, the hitting of a staff made the crowd go quiet. Everyone held their breath and turned to the source of the voice “Please welcome Lord James Buchanan Barnes and Colonel Steven Grant Rogers!”

The guests applauded in honour of the two men who were standing on a raised platform at the end of the hall. One of them stepped forward and raised his wine glass. (Y/N) couldn’t make out his features. Still, he wore a fancy dark suit with a wine-red tie. His slightly longer hair was tied with a ribbon in the back of his head. Although (Y/N) couldn’t see his eyes, they seemed pitch black.

“It is an honour to welcome you all to my new home. Until now, I have been welcomed with kindness in this beautiful little town and I am very happy to get to know you all better soon. I haven’t even lived here for a month, but it already feels like home to me. Let us all enjoy this evening. Sing, laugh and dance!”, his voice echoed through the room. It gave (Y/N) goosebumps.

He raised his glass to which his guests responded with the same gesture before they all took a sip of their drinks. It took less than five seconds, and the conversations were resumed. It was as if that greeting had never happened.

But (Y/N) could not take her eyes of her host. This was the person she had previously seen standing at the window. Before she could look away from him, he had already noticed her and seemed to reply to her stare. She tensed.

She hastily looked at the wine glass in her hand, from which she quickly took a short sip. The music started again. This time a bit louder than before because the guests began to dance. It wouldn’t take long for her mother to approach her once again and tell her daughter to find a suitable dance partner for the night.

~

“Do you see that woman over there? The one in the red dress and the white mask”, Bucky walked next to Steve as they made their way through the guests, who all respectfully stepped aside and bowed. Again and again, the two nodded to some people appreciatively.

Steve followed his friend’s gaze unobtrusively and nodded briefly “Pretty little thing. Do you want to go play or save her all to yourself for the night?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I am sure going to do something with her”, he winked at Steve and stopped at the edge of the dance floor, watching his guests dance. Shortly thereafter, Steve also left him to dance with his wife Margaret, who approached them.

While his friends were busy having fun at the party, James resumed his search for the woman he had just spotted. It did not take long for him to find her her standing next to an elderly couple, who seemed to have an exciting conversation with two other guests. The woman herself didn’t seem very interested in the conversation and kept sipping on her glass. That was his cue.

~

(Y/N) gave out a soft sigh and investigated her wine glass, which would soon be empty. She listened with one ear to the conversation of her parents but did not attempt to participate herself. The unknown woman just boasted how her daughter had married a wealthy man from Oxford some time ago and now lived there. (Y/N) was already getting ready for a sermon from her mother.

Once again, the young woman raised her glass to her red lips as suddenly-

“Excuse me if I bother you but would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” said a deep voice to her, which seemed quite familiar to (Y/N). Her gaze wandered from her glass to the chest of the man standing before her. Her breath was stunted. It was Lord Barnes looking down at her with a gentle smile on his lips. He held out his hand to her, but (Y/N) couldn’t take her eyes off him.

For a moment, it seemed as if (Y/N) had forgotten to have a normal and decent conversation when her mother stepped in and tore the glass out of her hand “She would be honoured to dance with you, Lord Barnes.”

A charming smile spread across his lips as her mother said so. But he turned his gaze to (Y/N) again and asked for her approval “I hope that is indeed the case.”

(Y/N) blinked. Once, twice.

“Yes, I would very much like to dance with you”, she now agreed herself and took his hand, which he still held out to her. He gently drew her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand “What a relieve.”

It was not only her mother who lost her breath at this gesture. Like in a trance, (Y/N) followed her new dance partner onto the wide dance floor, where people automatically made room for them in awe. Soon he stopped with her in the middle of the dance floor and pulled her to his chest, where she instinctively assumed her posture and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Slowly the music started anew. A slow waltz. Controlled, he guided her through the room, and it seemed as if (Y/N) had never done anything else in her life. Every step was exactly as it should be. It was as if they were floating over the dance floor. At least, it seemed like that to her.

“I hope I didn’t take you by surprise”, James remarked, looking down at his dance partner, who focused her eyes on his chest. The reason behind it was the fact that he was a lot taller than her.

Hastily (Y/N) shook her head as her cheeks heated up “Not at all, my lord. I was just surprised, that’s all. There are so many beautiful young women here, I wondered why you chose me.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have just chosen the prettiest in the room”, James replied, presenting her his charming smile, which made his eyes light up for a second. (Y/N)’s knees got soft. It seemed liked she had been enchanted by his aura.

It wasn’t long before the music became quieter and stopped. Together with the other couples, they stopped and applauded the musicians before James gave her his arm and whispered to her “Would you like to accompany me outside? It seems to be getting a little stuffy in here.”

A lie. It’s been years since James truly breathed air.

“I would love to.”, (Y/N) nodded and took shelter with her host before following him out onto the wide terrace. On their way there, (Y/N) did not notice James meeting the eyes of one of his men. It was Sam who stood near the exit and smiled at his friend. He knew James had found someone new to play with. If only it were for tonight.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” James looked up to the sky, where thousands of stars were glowing. It was more common here in the countryside. In the cities, the stars could be barely seen by the smoke rising through the chimneys into the sky.

(Y/N) followed his gaze and leaned forward against the wide stone railing. She nodded back, “Yes, it is. You haven’t seen such a sight very often, have you? I mean, I heard you moved out of town. What prompted you to do this?”

“The war and tranquillity I am looking for”, James replied honestly this time and turned his gaze back to (Y/N), who was still looking up at the stars, but noticed how he looked at her with his eyes: “You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“You didn’t ask for it either”, (Y/N) replied quick and smiled.

Oh, she’s cheeky. I like that.

He laughed for a moment and neck before he asked, “May I know your name, milady?”

At last, she looked at him again and her eyes shone as she replied with a smile, “My name is (Y/N). And I’m not a lady, my lord.”

The tension she had felt before in his presence was blown away. She felt comfortable in his presence, but she couldn’t explain why. He radiated a certain calmness that made her feel safe and comfortable.

He tilted his head to the side as he smiled, “The name suits you. But tell me, (Y/N), why would a pretty woman like you be alone with your parents at a party like this? There must be a man in your life.”

“Why? Because a woman like me needs a man?” she answered with a counter-question. She wondered how long he would put up with it. But it seemed that the remark would excited him more.

He raised an eyebrow, to which she smiled briefly and replied honestly, “I have a mind of my own, as my mother says. Most men don’t like this feature very well. In our small town, they want a woman who makes a man look good. She has to be pretty and smart, but not too smart for her to make the man look stupid. She needs to be educated, but not waste too much time on it. The piano is very popular with most men.”

“Women who only deal with the latest gossip have never really interested me. Besides, I like to talk to women who can keep up with my intellect. Someone like you”, James replied honestly again, leaning his hip against the stone wall to take a close look at her.

As (Y/N) fixed her posture to look him right in the eye, he stepped foward. He gently raised his hand and put his index finger under her chin to raise it so that she could not take her eyes off of him, “Men can be stubborn, especially English men. But we Americans love it when a woman has something more on her mind than piano notes and pretty clothes. How boring it would be to have someone with you who only agrees with everything you say. I have met lots of these women, but I have seldom encountered someone like you.”

Smiling, (Y/N) held his gaze as he took his hand from her chin and took her hand in his. She looked down for a moment but did not attempt to let go.

“You’re the first man to say something like that to me, and you seem to mean it”, she smiled and briefly squeezed his hand. From the gloves he was wearing, she didn’t even notice how cold they were. Once again, he put her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, “I am glad to see my presence and my personality please you, Lady (Y/N).”

“As I said, I’m not a lady”, she laughed softly as her cheeks heated up once more. The smile on his lips made her knees soft again, “To me, you are one.”

With every moment that passed, he liked the young woman more and more. Something he didn’t expect. It was selfish, but he knew then and there he wouldn’t let her go. Not as fast as he had planned. It would be difficult to inspire her for eternity once he had done it.

A life like him could also be lonely and desolate. Many souls had already gone mad after being transformed and being unable to return to the world of the living. It drove them mad. He wouldn’t let his (Y/N) go crazy. Not so easily.

“My Lord?” her sweet voice tore him from the thoughts that were swirling through his head. His gaze fell back on her as she gave him a worried look. He gently brushed a strand of her hair from her face and smiled calmly, “Forgive me, I was in my head.”

“Do you think maybe we should go back to the hall? Your guests would also like to exchange a few words with you. I don’t want to besiege you forever”, (Y/N) glanced over her bare shoulder and looked at the tinted glass doors that shielded her from the guests. Many couples were on the dance floor together and seemed cheerful.

“I think my guests will be able to be just fine without my constant presence for a while. Besides, it would be a lie if I said I didn’t want to spend some more time with you”, he replied, following her gaze briefly before turning her gaze to him.

It seemed almost supernatural to (Y/N) that a man like Lord Barnes would take such an interest in her, but it was mutual. She didn’t want to leave him. Not yet. She was delighted with his company and gave him a warm smile before she replied, “And it would be a lie if I said I am not pleased by your interest.”

A burst of hearty laughter came over James' lips. It had been a long time since he had heard such words that had truly touched him. Smiling, he held her hand that was still in his, before leading (Y/N) from the terrace into the wide garden, where many lanterns illuminated their path.

(Y/N) had already placed her hand on his arm and followed him through the small maze that stood in the middle of the garden. The tall hedges shielded them from curious eyes as they disappeared deeper and deeper into the maze.

“My parents will probably be wondering where I am”, (Y/N) smiled as she followed James through the hedges, still holding his hand tightly in fear she could lose him. Apparently, he knew his way around the maze very well, for he guided them safely to a small square that marked the middle of the maze.

In the middle of the square stood a beautifully decorated pavilion, clad in red and white roses and ivy trees. James led her there and sat down with her on one of the two benches.

“Your parents know you’re in good hands with me. I would never allow anything…bad to happen to you”, James merely replied. (Y/N) couldn’t have known that evil himself was still holding her hand and concealing his cruel nature with a pretty face. He could feel her heartbeat speeding up a bit.

“You know, (Y/N), a life like mine. . . is very lonely”, he told her, looking at the flowers hanging next to him on a pole. Yet he noticed how her gaze stuck to him. In a calm voice he continued, “Although I am very wealthy and have seen so much of the world, I have been missing someone to share this life with for years. Someone who accepts me for who I am and doesn’t want to be with me just for my money and my land. Do you understand what I mean?”

His gaze fell back on her. (Y/N)’s eyes almost pierced through his head as her eyes turned glassy. A soft sigh escaped her as she gazed down into her lap.

“I understand you very well. Even though my mother’s efforts are straining me a lot, I still want someone who. . . likes me for me. Who wants me. Not for my dowry, but for myself. I have never spoken to someone who understands me as well. . . as you do”, she replied, being astonished at her words.

James Barnes was the first man she could talk to without having to pretend. Her slightly rough nature had not deterred him. He had been tenacious, but still kind and attentive. It’s been a long time since she met someone like him. His personality seemed to drew her even closer to him. As if there was an invisible ribbon, which now tied her to him.

“You are so much more than just your dowry and a pretty face, (Y/N). Maybe it’s too hasty, but it would be a pleasure for me to get to know you better. The real (Y/N), who doesn’t have to act and doesn’t want to impress anyone. I already know you a little, but. . . not quite yet”, he stroked her cheek, giving her goosebumps. In a good way.

A short smile grazed her lips as she put her hand on his, “I would also like to get to know you better, my lord.”

“Please call me James. The title is too formal for me”, he smiled gently at her and ran his thumb over her cheekbones as (Y/N) muttered softly, “As you wish,…James.”

Slowly, he noticed her pulse increasing. He looked her in the eyes again as he got closer, and she could feel his cold breath on her skin. For a brief moment, it seemed like a dream to her, but it became reality at the moment as his lips touched hers. (Y/N) froze. She wasn’t expecting that. Not yet.

Immediately he broke away from the kiss and pulled his hand from her cheek, “Sorry, that was a little too hasty of me.”

If there was still blood flowing through his body, he’d be blushed. For the first time in a long time, he seemed nervous and ran his fingers through his hair. But (Y/N) grabbed his hand and shook her head calmly, “No, please. I was just…surprised that you…feel that way about me.”

“You’re just…so different. In a positive way, of course”, he held her hand and squeezed it briefly once when (Y/N) was the one who came a little closer and leaned forward, “No, you must forgive me. I didn’t mean to reject you. I like you…very much.”

Now James knew it was the right time.

Slowly he leaned over to her and kissed her gently on the mouth. Sighing her eyes closed as the young lady returned his kiss a little cautiously. After all, he had more experience in it than she did. But only now did (Y/N) realize how cold he was. It’s almost freezing.

“James, you’re so cold”, (Y/N) gently detached herself from the kiss and held her lips as he stroked her cheek and put a strand behind her ear: “Don’t worry. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Once again, he conquered her lips and pulled her closer to his chest. A little more courageously, (Y/N) grabbed the collar of his suit and pulled him closer. She closed her eyes again as he slowly continued to kiss her but wandered from her cheek down to her throat. Her eyes remained closed as she enjoyed his kisses on her warm skin. His lips were still cold, but now she did not seem to care anymore.

Soon he could hear her rapid heartbeat as he lavished kisses on her neck. (Y/N) did not notice how his eyes darkened and his teeth stretched into pointed pillars.

For a moment, James wrestled with himself over whether he should really kill her or go even further. Still, one thing was very clear. (Y/N) would never see the light of day again.

"Forgive me." he breathed against her soft skin and closed his eyes before placing his hand over her mouth. Before (Y/N) could even realize what was happening to her, he rammed his teeth into her neck. Her scream was stifled by his hand, but her body didn't give up so quickly. Panicked, she pushed and pounded against his chest as James sucked the blood from her body. But all her attempts did her no good, as he was far too strong for her.

Finally, she slumped lifelessly in his arms and sank against his chest. Sighing, James detached himself from her neck and pressed another soft kiss to the wound where his teeth had pierced her skin moments ago.

Gently he laid the young woman on the bench and pushed her hair out of her face. Carefully he untied the ribbon at the back of her head and pulled the mask from her face.

"Just as I imagined, my darling..." he ran his thumb over her lower lip and looked into her lifeless eyes before pulling his own mask off his face and tossing it on the floor beside him.

He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her hand, "I'll take care of you, my angel. No one will ever be able to hurt you again. We'll be together forever."

[ynscrazylife]

Hi loved All a Lie but was wondering if you could maybe do part two where Kara realizes that she made a mistake but it's too late the Reader has already moved on and left the deo cause Alex had to of known and done nothing about it

All A Lie (2) | k.d angst fic

Summary: Y/N leaves the DEO after she sees her girlfriend and Mon-El together. When Kara returns from Argo, she realizes she’s made a huge mistake.

A/N: Thank you for requesting!

Request to be on a Taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

DCEU Masterlist | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/bungeeicon

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Alex asked as she observed her sister’s ex-girlfriend at her desk at the DEO with a cardboard box, angrily rummaging through her draws and taking things out.

“Packing,” Y/N answered through grit teeth, in no mood to indulge in a conversation.

Alex crossed her arms. “No two weeks notice?” She quipped, an obvious edge to the joking words.

Y/N huffed, looking over her shoulder at her friend. There was a storm brewing in Alex’s eyes compared to the dull waves in Y/N’s.

At the lack of response, Alex continued. “You can’t just leave. Do you even have another source of income?” She pointed out.

The words made Y/N briefly slow down with its sting, but then she resumed in her dumping of her belongings in the box as a quicker rate. “That’s none of your business,” she said bitterly.

Alex glared. “Y/N—” she started to say, annoyed.

Y/N turned around sharply, hands on her hips. “Yes?” She asked, her straightforwardness shocking the brunette. Y/N sighed, then continued. “I expect you to take Kara’s side and I don’t blame you for doing so . . . She’s your sister and Supergirl. However you need to understand it from my place. My girlfriend has been ignoring me for the past week and suddenly I see her holding hands with her ex - who she assured me she was over - and they’re going away together. What am I supposed to do?”

After an antagonizing minute of silence in the air, Alex formed the thoughts she was struggling with into meek, defeated words. “You don’t have to leave just because Kara broke up with you,” she tried in a low voice, a grumpy frown on her face.

Y/N took a breath, giving her friend a small smile. “When Kara returns, I won’t be able to work with her. It’s too painful . . . I’ll stay until then,” she decided, hoping to reach a compromise with this. 

. . .  . . .  . . .

Finding another job was proving to be difficult. How was she going to find something that would top the DEO?! Everything else seemed . . . useless compared to the thrill that the DEO gave Y/N and how much she loved her job. 

However, a saving grace swooped in from the one and only Imra Ardeen one day. 

“Ahem,” the woman said, and Y/N glanced up from her computer, blinking in surprise when spotting the gorgeous Titanian. “Ms. Danvers informed me of your situation and how you’ll be leaving the DEO . . . I may have a proposition for you.”

Y/N’s fingers fell limp on the keys as she leaned back in her seat, intrigued. At this, Imra continued. “While I cannot reveal the specifics, you are . . . let’s say. a household name in the future . . . Perhaps you can join the Legion?” 

Y/N’s jaw dropped before she quickly composed herself. This was the last thing she had expected to hear or to be offered. “Umm,” she said, struggling to think of the right words to say. “Thank you - thank you for the offer. I will, uh, have to think about it, though.” 

Imra nodded and smiled (Y/N couldn’t help but notice how her face lit up). “Of course, perfectly understandable. I’ll give you some time . . .” she said, and began to turn away when she thought of something and hesitated.  

“You know . . . With Kara and Mon-El off to Argo together . . . You aren’t the only one who feels betrayed by the person you love,” was that Imra added on before quickly spinning around and waling off, leaving Y/N with a new realization and lots to think about. 

. . .  . . .  . . . 

After going back-and-forth for the next few days and talking with Imra and Brainy (where she learned that they were planning to recruit Winn, too), she decided that she was going to join the Legion . . . This was big, though, and she could only hope that she wouldn’t regret it . . . 

Coincidentally, she told the Legion of her decision the day before Kara and Mon-El returned from Argo. 

“Y/N?” 

That voice made her freeze. She knew Kara had returned that day but hearing her, after everything, what she had put Y/N through and the things left unsaid . . . It made rage brew inside her. 

She cautiously turning around, having to take a breath when she saw her ex standing in front of her in her superhero suits. Every memory, every feeling she had about Kara, was rushing back, bursting down the walls she had put up to try and overcome the pain Kara had left her in. 

She didn’t say anything, didn’t even trust herself to speak. She just waited. 

Kara finally huffed, adverting her gaze to anywhere but Y/N. “In Argo, I realized something . . . I shouldn’t have let you go. Mon-El and I . . . we wouldn’t work out. I was so silly to do what I did to you, I love you, and I’m sorry. I just hope we could try again? I feel so bad about ignoring you and-” 

“Kara, I appreciate you saying this. However, I’ve come too far in processing and getting through all of this. I don’t think I want to put myself through this again. I’m sorry . . . I’ve moved on,” she admitted, leaving the blonde in a small state of shock before she heard her name being called and went to join Imra.

When Imra took her hand and proudly announced her addition to the Legion to the DEO, Y/N couldn’t help the butterflies that flew in her stomach, spreading their wings wide.

[xaharadesert]

Returned Memories - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: This one is for @lunriphus, and has been sitting in my inbox for months, so I am so sorry. I also can’t believe I forgot about it because I was super excited to write it! The MC’s memories returning has always been one of my favourite “what ifs”, but it’s a little hard to write about because everyone’s MC has a different backstory. I’ve left it pretty vague, but of course some of the character’s have more canon relationship backstories than others, so each set of headcanons is pretty unique! Requests are open :) I’m writing this without my glasses on again, so please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes

Also: I don’t mean to be insensitive to people who have amnesia is real life— if anything within this post seems rude or ignorant, please let me know! I will fix it immediately!

❤️Julian❤️

Neither of you quite understood how exactly you got your memories back, but it wasn’t exactly the biggest concern

You finally knew who you were (are?), and you could finally make the connections that your brain had been on the verge of for so long

Julian was an excellent partner to have by your side while you navigated the differences and similarities between who you used to be and who you were now

You two had known each other to some degree before, but there was no pressure from him to be the way you used to be; he was happy for you because you seemed happier, not because he would gain anything from you recovering your memories

Some nights the two of you would stay up for hours, simply talking over some of your old shared memories, helping you connect the pieces

He was always wary of headaches— he knew that with magic involved he wouldn’t be able to do much to help you if things took a turn for the worse, so he was prepared to scoop you up and sprint over to wherever it was Asra was currently hiding out

Julian was careful not to push too hard if you were struggling to remember something you felt you should— he would be the first to remind you that these things take time, and that living in the present was more important than recalling the past

The only part of this he’s slightly bitter about is the fact that you can now remember and bring up any of the embarrassing things he did when you two first met (but he could never bring himself to stop you from mentioning them because he knew how important your memories were)

🧡Portia🧡

When you announced to her that you remembered something from your past she asked no questions, she was simply ecstatic

She knew that your missing memories could be hard on you, and there were occasions where she felt pointlessly guilty that she hadn’t known you before because she so badly wanted to give you the information you desired

So knowing that you were on the road to recovering bits of your past life? She might just have been even more excited than you!

She loves hearing you talk about anything you remember, from funny little stories to dark secrets— she feels like she gets to learn something new about you at the same time you’re discovering it, and it brings the two of you even closer

Portia is especially great at grounding you to the present

While it’s wonderful that you’re remembering your past life and everyone and everything in it, Portia could only ever be a part of your new life

Even if you started to recover more unwanted, dark memories, she would be right there to remind you that the past is the past, and as long as you’re with her, you can take or leave as much or as little of it as you want

💛Lucio💛

Finding out your memories were returning garnered an… interesting response from Lucio

He seemed conflicted, to say the least— he was happy about your excitement at recovering a part of yourself that you had previously considered gone forever, and he was glad that you could remember all of the amazing parties he used to throw, but…

What else, exactly, did you remember about him?

Did you remember him as a tyrant? A warlord? A petty imbecile, too incompetent to rule over Vesuvia?

As ignorant as he seemed to be toward mass criticism, he wasn’t as stupid as people thought— he knew that the snide comments he would still occasionally overhear weren’t isolated incidents

He knew that you loved him as the two of you were in the present; but he was terrified of what you had thought of him in the past

Lucio knew that he was capable of changing, as he had grown as a person immensely after meeting you, but would your old opinions overshadow your belief in him?

He would want to be as supportive as possible, but his doubts would plague his mind every time you would share an old recovered memory with him

This time in your relationship would be hard, without question— you would be rediscovering your past self, and Lucio would be attempting to repress his insecurities

Communication would be key in moving forward in a healthy relationship, discussing and working through any issues that may arise alongside your memories and his worries

💚Muriel💚

He would be happy for you, and proud of how much you’ve grown as a person because of it

While he didn’t know you very well before you had died (only seeing you in passing when you were with Asra), he would be very supportive of you doing what you must to regain your lost memories

He was also the first one to suggest that you spend a bit more time with Asra and others that you had known before, willing to put up with a bit more social interaction than usual if it’s for your benefit

While he isn’t one to use magic to help with your memories, if he can use his limited abilities to recreate something you vaguely remember from your past, he’d do it in a heartbeat

He couldn’t keep up much of a conversation about your past, but he would listen to you ramble on about anything you can recall for as long as you’d like

Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he had been a larger part of your previous life— would you remember him as much as you would remember everything else, or would his curse cause even more problems?

As sad as he was that he hadn’t gotten to know you sooner, a small part of him was glad he would never have to learn the answer to that question

💙Asra💙

It’s everything he had been hoping for for the past three years

After the initial panic he had at the thought of needing to erase your memories again if the headaches started to plague you again, he promptly burst into tears

Don’t misunderstand the situation, he would love you unconditionally with or without your memories of your past together, but knowing that you were slowly starting to recover bits of who you used to be overwhelmed him with emotion

He had felt like he had failed you when he managed to bring your body back, but not the entirely of your mind

Now, that guilt seemed to slowly be seeping away, leaving him more every time you brought up something from your past that you previously hadn’t been able to remember

He would love to spend all of his time talking about the past with you, helping you remember and basking in nostalgia

The burden of your shared past was no longer his to carry alone, and he finally had the chance to apologize for your final argument together, something that he had thought he would never be able to properly move forward from

💜Nadia💜

She’s thrilled that your regaining a part of yourself previously thought to be lost forever

Having had her own memory problems regarding her life in Vesuvia prior to her enchanted sleep, she had always empathized with your plight

Knowing that you were beginning to recover, she was overjoyed, although a minuscule, unwanted voice in the back of her mind quietly echoed feelings of jealousy

She wanted you to have a past to hold onto in times of strife, and although the two of you had never met prior to her entering your shop on that fateful night, she hoped you would perhaps be able to recall her effects as Countess

Nadia loved that you were regaining your memories, but she wished she could do the same— regardless, she would support you in every way possible, applying the knowledge she had gained while attempting to recover her own memories to help you further remember your own

Forgive her if she seemed a bit aloof occasionally during your conversations about the past; she doesn’t mean to seem unsupportive in any way, but she does struggle with her own emotions regarding the matter once in a while

She’s very open about these feelings, though— Nadia values honestly over honeyed lies, and she would never be hypocritical about sharing her emotions in your relationship

[lovethisletters]

Belly boops for the Side Characters! + Luke!

This is the second part to the Belly boop hc! You can find the first one here!

Something that I failed to mention is that I also do this whenever I seek reassurance bc I'm lacking confidence or something, so I included this here.

Keys: MC = your main character's name.

Summary: The Side Characters discover a peculiar trait of MC: belly boops.

Additional notes: MC is gender neutral!

▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

Diavolo

It happened in a RAD council meeting of all places...great.

Diavolo was in the middle of his speech when he suddenly snorted in laughter; startling everyone in the room who then directed their eyes at you.

...Or more specifically...your finger still poking Diavolo's belly.

Turns out that the prince of hell is very ticklish.

You froze, not knowing what to say or how to react to the murderous glance Lucifer directed at you while Diavolo was still laughing in the background.

When he finally managed to calm down, he was very curious about why you had done such random thing?

—MC, is this some kind of ritual from the human world? a tradition, perhaps?

You struggled to find the correct words to explain your weird habit.

Wich was a bit hard, given the fact that Lucifer never once let his "I'm going to hang you in cerberus room" kind of stare fall off.

When you did finally manage to explain Diavolo the meaning behind such weird occurrence.

He let out a warm laugh and gently booped your belly back.

—Thank you for telling me, MC. Please, ignore what Lucifer has to say! I'll be more than happy if this becomes something usual between the two of us!—He said close to your ear, loud enough for Lucifer to hear but quiet enough for it to resemble a whisper.

From that day onwards, expect unexpected Belly boops from the Demon prince!

Barbatos

Barbatos had invited you to the Market to buy some groceries when you first poked him.

At first he thought you were trying to get his attention, so he turned towards you and waited for you to say something.

But you only returned his glance, confused as to why he had suddenly stop walking just to look at you.

When none of you said anything, Barbatos carried on, thinking perhaps it was a mistake and he must have imagined it or something.

But then a few moments later...he felt it again...

He looked down just to see your finger poking the side of his stomach, confused he looked up at your face; only to find the most casual expression ever, like if you haven't even noticed what you where doing.

He was a bit weirded out...but ok, he'll just put a little distance between the two of you.

After that the belly boops became a frequent occurrence every time you'll see each other.

He'll be bringing you tea...boop!

He'll be opening the door for you and...boop!

You'll be saying goodbye to him and...boop!

He doesn't like it, but good ol' Barbatos is too polite to tell you.

So he just...ever so discreetly dodges the boop, takes a step back or softly puts your hand away.

Unlike the other times, you did noticed you where booping him; but as he didn't seem to be bothered by it, you just continued.

Is not until Barbatos starts to do this things that you notice he actually doesn't enjoy it.

You decided to talk to him, apologize and explain that you weren't doing such thing to mock him or anything; but that you were doing it out of feelings of trust and a sense of comfort around him and that was your way to express it.

He smiles sincerely at you.

—If that's the case then feel free to continue, MC; I'm glad to be someone you trust.

And by all means you did.

Barbatos now quickly grows fond of your belly boops, knowing that such simple gesture signifies the strength on your relationship.

Solomon

Perhaps the first time it happened was while he was tutoring you in casting spells.

He was concentrated in explaining you the correct wording when he felt a light pressure in his stomach...it was your finger.

—MC, What are you doing?—he asked tilting his head in confusion, his gaze never straying from your finger still in his stomach.

You quickly put your finger away and tried to act as if nothing had happened, but Solomon never stopped giving you this questioning and confused look.

So you quickly explain to him that this is something you do with people you feel comfortable with, sometimes to unconsciously seek for reassurance.

You watched as a small smirk creeped over his lips wich each and every word that came out of your mouth.

—Ahhh~ I see~

And with that you realize, you might have committed the biggest mistake of your life.

Every time you poke him, his smile spreads wider than the Cheshire cat and his eyes sparkle with a glint of mischief as he proceeds to tease you endlessly.

But sometimes, when he notices that you poked him in seek of comfort or because you where feeling anxious.

He'll lower down your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours, holding your hand as long as you need to, letting you know...

That he'll always be there for you.

Simeon

Simeon had offered to wait for you and walk you home since you had cleaning duties to do and the brothers where all in a council meeting.

And as the two of you arrived at the house of lamentation, you offered to prepare some tea to thank him for walking you home; which he kindly accepted.

As you two where talking about your experiences in the devildom and laughing at the funny shenanigans y'all went through.

You unconsciously...just...boop! in the middle of the conversation.

Simeon froze for a second and stared down at where your finger met his belly.

Embarrassed you pulled back and tried to explain yourself. When all of a sudden...

boop! He had booped you back.

Simeon was overjoyed when you booped him, because you see...he's a boop person too!

Tho he's more used to booping people's noses or cheeks, he's still glad that you did what you did.

No need to apologize or explain yourself to him, there's an unspoken understanding between boop people!

He knows that not all people like it, and can be a bit embarrassing to try and explain why you do such thing, belive me he has had to explain himself to Michael more than just a few times...

For a moment you two share a glint of happiness and mischief, not needing any words to understand what's about to happen.

BOOPING WAR!!!!!

He boops your stomach mercilessly but you don't hold back either!

When the brothers arrive they just stare at the two of you in pure confusion.

They're so weirded out by this: you two poking each other's bellys and laughing and behaving like toddlers.

Lucifer tries to break off whatever weird contest you two are having...oh boi

—Simeon, MC! Why are you engaging in such childish behavior?!? Have you no...

—boop!

Simeon had just booped the avatar of pride in the nose...with sound and all...

You couldn't help but laugh at Lucifer's bewildered expression, but you weren't the only one...the brothers also couldn't stop themselves from laughing their butts off.

May god have mercy on all of you because y'all grounded.

Completely worth it tho...

Overall, Simeon is happy to find someone who shares his same habit and will always be glad to start a booping war with you.

Luke

Luke is just too cute! You couldn't help yourself and booped his stomach the second you met him!

—Hey! Quit it! What do you think you're doing!?!?

The puppy angy >:c

He has enough with Simeon's booping and now he has to deal with you?!?!

Slaps your hand every time you try to boop him.

I think Luke's feelings towards you booping him can be summarized in this:

▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

If you find any grammatical errors let me know! I'm trying to improve my english and that would help me so so much!

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov  where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be as fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway, thank you for reading!

[kanene-yaaay]

Go to Sleep

Kanene’s note: Gosh, having a schedule is weird. I just wanna post everything I already wrote and ramble non stop about it asdfgtyujkigfdo. XD

Well, this was suppose to be a drabble, but it’s very long so sdftyujikgfred. I hope you like it!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders from the serie Sanders Sides.

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic. If you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* This is Lee!Virgil with Ler!Roman. Around 1.500 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Listen a bit to the birds today. Changing the way you think is not a bad thing. Drink water, sleep, eat and love!

[~*~]

Roman growled, missing by a few inches the button of his thunderous, infuriating alarm before finally hitting it. Staring and blinking lazily at the numbers his brain struggled to discern and recognize, only to confirm it was really time to wake up and start the day. He grabbed his pillow and squeezed it with all the strength he could muster, rolling from one side to other on the mattress, trying to wake up his body as quick as his mind and almost falling from the bed a reasonable number of times during the process.

 He got up, yawing, stretching and humming as the first lyrics of the day stuck on his head, hand rubbing at his eyes as he followed the kitchen’s direction with slow steps and tired sways on the beat of the song.

 Two dark, wide eyes stared right back at him, their owner completely frozen on the spot with his hand inside the cabinet, probably already holding some sort of a snack. Roman also stopped mid-step, gears running inside his mind, gaze locked on the other, his brow progressively furrowing.

“Virgil,” he began, voice slightly hoarse “What the heckty heck are you doing up? It’s barely seven in the morning!” Virgil only stared back, slowly closing the cabinet’s door, as if afraid the movement would startle the other. Roman proceeded to get some eggs and other cold ingredients from the refrigerator for the breakfast, his words growing more awake and vivid as they spilled with no filter or whatsoever from his lips. “You got an early shift again or something? Those are absolutely hellish. A bunch of people exhausted, tired and glaring at you as if you are the holder of all their problems and their solutions can only be achieved by being insufferable pieces of- Urg. I can’t believe they would give you one right after you got the night one. Damn, I didn’t even see you arriving here yesterday!”

 He turned his attention back at the other, looking for a kind of frustration in the place of the still startled, wide gaze which continued to be directed at him. Virgil nodded slowly, stepping away and putting some physical distance between him and the confusion on Roman’s features.

 Then, between the strings of sleepiness that clouded his brain, it clicked.

 Suddenly more details on the other’s behavior started to become clearer: the way Virgil’s hair was messier than his usual ““style”” (Roman scoffed mentally, thinking that if he rolled his eyes any harder they would never come back to his normal place again), his wary, yes, but way too much slow movements, the way he seemed to be unable to stop blinking at every millisecond and, above it all, the final piece of the puzzle.

 Virgil wasn’t wearing his pajamas.

 “YOU DIDN’T!” Roman gasped, as if Virgil’s life choices were a personal attack. “YOU DIDN’T GET ANY SLEEP LAST NIGHT!!” A turn of heels and he was again fixating his glare on the other, his free hand accusingly pointing in his direction, receiving an annoyed hiss as immediate answer.

 “Shut up!” Virgil snarled, practically growling back at him. “It’s fucking seven am don’t be so freaking loud.”

 “Don’t change the subject! Why didn’t you go to sleep?”

 The one being questioned just snorted, half amused. “Bold of you to assume I’d ever sleep in my whole life.”

 “That is it.” Virgil didn’t even have the time to wonder the meaning of his friend’s sentence before the aforementioned picked him up, resulting to a not very contained shriek escaping from his lips and his hands not much gracefully – or gently, although since they were keen on just jumping on each other out of nowhere to play fight Princey would be fine - meeting his friend’s face.

 “Roman! What the he-”

 “Did you just SLAP me? My beautiful face?! Before my own beautiful eyes??” Virgil Storm always got, even if he would never admit this out loud, surprised with Roman’s capacity of doing a series of offended incoherent noises which evolved to words before being carefully metamorphosed in weird noises all over again, and in the end still managing to form comprehensible sentences. His surprise did nothing to quell the grumpy snark immediately flying from lips, though.

 “And I’m going to do it again if you don’t let me go in this exact instant.”

 “You go and try to help and that is the acknowledgement you get,” The one wearing pajamas with little crows printed on it huffed, mumbling in a lower tone as he noticed the sharp gaze being thrown in his direction. “fucking unbelievable.”

 “I still can hear you, Princey. You’re literally carrying me.”

 “I sTiLL cAn HeAr yOu-OW! Ow! Ow!” The sentence was interrupted when the sleep deprived one punched Roman’s shoulder. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

 “Let me fucking gAAH!” In a way his wish was granted, one could say as they watched his protest being cut as Storm was impolitely tossed on his bed, Roman quickly following his friend on the mattress, arms hugging him from behind, and physically preventing him from escaping his current soft predicament. “Prince, you’re dead.”

 “Shhh, no talking. We’re sleeping.”

 “We are not. You are being a pain in ass and I am about to defenestrate you.” Despite his fervent protests, his sharp, flaming glare began to lose its heat, his body not doing any actual effort to free himself from the other’s – strong, good - grip, muscles starting to relax against the great warmth involving him in a comfortable and secure blanket.

 “Sure, sure, mister Grumpy Pants, you can do that when you wake up.” He tightened a bit his hold around Virgil, yet being the most careful as possible, actively ignoring the annoyed hiss his friend gave him. His hoodie was really fluffy at the touch, slightly remembering his stuffed animals he frequently hugged to sleep.

 For a moment, everything was pleasantly quiet. The one with smudged makeup, since he hadn’t time to get it off before being trapped by his roommate and best friend, felt the tiredness becoming sleepiness as the seconds went by.

 …That was until an electric sensation shot across his spine, leading him to almost jump in the same place 

 “S-stop nuzzling me!”

 “Hm? Oh sorry.” Virgil pressed his lips tightly closed, preventing the wobbly giggles to escape as Roman speaks, not realizing how close his mouth was from the base of his neck, every breath sending tickly shocks across every nerve. “You’re just too much sooooft.”

 Roman opened an eye when realized that no snark remark from the other followed his words, the figure in his arms shaking too much to be asleep. A frown painted his feature as he readjusted the position of his hands, trying to get a bit more of balance to look at Virgil’s face when suddenly a high-pitched yelp escaped, cutting the air and immediately catching their attention.

 “Did you just squeal?” He questioned as his glare assumed a playful shine seeing a blush spread on his now frozen friend.

 “It was NOT a squeal! It was a yelp.” Virgil’s words came so fast that they almost tripped on themselves. Roman snorted, a smile taking over his face. “Get off me!” and, in the moment the one wearing a hoodie tried to pry his hand from the spot on his right side where it was resting, the pieces finally clicked in the right place and his smile quickly submerged, giving space to a smirk.

 ‘No WAY Doctor Doom and Gloom is ticklish!’

 However, the red lover only blinked as the true personification of innocence and naiveness, his hand firm in its place, fingers starting to slowly move, light pokes being delivered on the sensitive skin. “But why that, Knight Mare? It’s cold and all I could ever want is just to hug my bestest friend!”

 “You already hugged me, now go aWAY!” His voice trembled in the last second, the exact moment his thumb experimentally scratched the spot right under the lowest ribs, leading a surprised squeak to leave Virgil’s mouth.

 They both stared at each other, gleaming, filling their wide eyes.

 “No.” Virgil said, trying to squirm away but finding himself stuck between Prince and the wall. Roman didn’t even attempt to hide his smug grin, anymore. This was going to be so much fun

 “Don’t you dare! Don’t you freaking dare!!” His friend only laid down again, now carefully, yet firmly, pulling him one more time against his chest, growling playfully. Years and years fighting for the Tickle Monster title on his family, battles and battles against Remus only sharpening his skills, which showed by the way his fingers seemed to find every single weak spot on Virgil’s skin, wiggles, scribbles, pokes and scratching exploring everywhere. “No! Nononono! You fucker, you moron, you bitch, you-” A few chuckles cut his curses as he one wearing pajamas squeezed his side a couple of times, the tip of his fingers also teasing his ticklish stomach. “Roman!!”

 “No, no, my so dear, so ticklish, friend. Roman is no longer here, this is…” He paused for a dramatic effect, basically beaming at the giggly giggles and wiggly wiggles from the other. He shoved his face on his neck, the next words vibrating almost as bad as the spidering on his ribs. “The Tickle Monster!!”

[wroteclassicaly]

Waves of Blue (Andy Dolan x Reader)

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, face slapping, slight choking, mentions of drug usage, & angst.

A/N : AAAAAAHHHHH! I have found the post that teaches you how to add a read more on mobile! Shoutout to the person who told me about that! You know who you are! ^_^ Anyways, I am so gonna be posting more, even if it’s harder because I have to write the fics on my phone, versus my laptop, lol. I stumbled across the song Waves of Blue by Majid Jordan, and my ass was emotional af (I have included some of the lyrics here in blue!) I obviously don’t own the song/lyrics!

The song was the kick one of my drafts needed for extra inspiration! And so, I bring you the start of this mini fic! It won’t be very many chapters. And I will probably re-visit for a prequel, to write out how the reader and Andy first hooked up. But I wanted to try something different and start my fic with their relationship already ongoing. Hopefully it doesn’t suck, haha.?

I haven’t felt this inspired for a Cody character since Michael Langdon! I adore Andy’s traumatic, cocky, angsty, hot mess ass! And I really wanna explore the creativity he’s bringing me! Lemme know what y’all think? And give the song a listen - I’m in in love with it!

Forgive me if there’s some mistakes, loves! I’m nervous about how I’ve written Andy, and how the smut is. Hope y’all enjoy anyways!

:)

~*~

The rain is a glittering array of shimmering moisture as its presence is pouring down on the roof of your apartment. Your knees are knocked tightly together, jean fabric digging into flesh. Your phone is perched face down atop your legs, vibrating messages you don’t care to read. They’re not the ones that you want to see. You tilt your head back, the tears redirecting themselves down the sides of your cheeks. You turn your gazing direction to that silk robe atop your bed - a reminder.

“It’s just a fling, love.”

But it can’t be, can it?

You have to laugh at yourself. Isn’t this what every girl asks themselves when they’re dumped? Rare is an exception who steals the other person’s heart and changes that exterior they carry. Your phone vibrates again and that raging anger to match the ruby red color on his robe that rests on your bedroom sheets - it charges your energy like a violent strike of lightening! Your hand launches your phone into the hallway outside your bedroom door before you can stop yourself.

“There’s your fucking fling, dumbass Andy Dolan!”

You try to hum to fight off the incoming intrusive thoughts, to ignore your ringing phone in the distance, but it’s to no avail. You’re getting more overwhelmed with the pain by every agonizing second. Your fists clench into the leather armrests below. It’s too much, you can’t bear another second of this shit. It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, it doesn’t matter that you have over fifteen unanswered recent calls from Andy since you threw your phone - unbeknownst to you.

You snatch the stupid silk robe from its place and begin your knowing journey with the excruciatingly expensive item, having already made up your mind. A quick removal of your keys from the hooks beside your front room door and your bare feet seem to lead you - heart first - into the downpour. Your clothing is soaked the instant you step outside. Mumbling all the way to your SUV and clutching Andy’s silk garment becomes your saving grace to help anchor your focus. If one can be focused in bare feet during a thunderstorm, erratically throwing her car into reverse.

The drive to his place of privacy - his sanctuary - the cold place you once used to help him warm. It doesn’t take you long. With your tires grinding against soaking asphalt, country beach roads whipping past you, and your angry windshield wipers struggling to keep up with your car’s pace - Andy’s gates come into your sights. You’re trembling, too upset and geared to go for a turn around now. Andy didn’t change the security, so you let yourself in, abandoning your car just inside, doors open and interior carelessly being soaked.

It doesn’t matter. I just have to tell him this.

That’s your mantra for continuous approach. You round the long expanse of beautiful greenery, waves crashing violently in the distance, a love affair to collide with this storm. Your simple outfit of blue jeans and a baby blue tank top are beyond recognition, weighted down by the sopping wet summer. The shivering begins to thrum along to an invisible, but very present humming inside you. It’s that feeling, the one you know all too well.

Andy Dolan.

Like when you first met, you begin to tremble, letting your limbs move you accordingly. Making sense is last on the priority list. Normally, you would have a thousand conversational scenarios laid out, but that’s not the case. Rushed on purely raw need to tell him - no - inform him, that is what is in charge here. The soft grass is squishy between your toes, a tickle from each freshly mowed blade, water in the distance smelling like salt and flowing freedom.

Every sense is heightened for you right now. Your limbs are heavy, yet your footfalls are light, carrying you with a quick grace. You don’t bother with the front door, opting for his usual back door hang out. It’s a few more minutes before your destination is reached. That’s when you hear him screaming, his voice in high distress, hard and rough against the accent. Your chest heaves to cage hammering heartbeats that you can’t keep up with.

“Motherfucking ANSWER ME!” He shouts, ripping the phone from his ear to redial.

You rolls your eyes, assuming it’s a dealer, or whomever he would rather be with than you. After all, he’s the one who said he just needed an ideal situation, not a relationship.

“Y/N... come on, don’t be a fucking cunt! I need to tell you something, please!”

Almost on cue the song drops loud on his fancy speakers in the house, freezing you to your spot.

I wanna hold you close

Don't wanna let you go

Be with you night and day

'Cause I've been feeling so low

Don't have to ask me twice

You really take me there

I wanna touch your light

I wanna breathe in your air

Andy angrily taps at his phone again, almost growling, reminding you of a wild animal. That’s when you’re snapped into your remaining senses, moving up and onto his deck, standing just feet from him. It takes him a few seconds to look up and see you through the rain. You can’t bring yourself to go any closer, afraid to let go right away. That’s how it is with Andy, you always give in.

You cut him off before he even gets a chance.

“Fuck you, Andy.”

Damn, was that really what you worked up the courage to dangerously drive yourself here to confess?

His lips purse a popping a noise, eyes widening in surprise at your word choices.

“I really fucking hate you.” Is what you give him, finding it easier to take steps now.

He still doesn’t speak as you approach, almost as if he’s recoiling. That wild animal within Andy Dolan. He’s not used to this. You can barely see through the rain, feeling like a moron. The movies make it look so dramatic, but you feel like you’re a wet dog on the verge of catching a cold.

It does good at numbing you though, almost shielding you from those haunting blue eyes. You swipe a hand across your face to clear your vision, and take that final step onto the deck with him, now just on the other side of where he stands in the doorway. That’s when he decides to speak, his voice softer than you’ve heard. It echoes his exhaustion, his surprise.

“You’re not the only one that feels that way, Y/N.”

You shake your head in disbelief, both of you not daring to make that closing gap. You would douse his body with yours; wet and cold. You’d be lying if you denied the shiver that attacked you, drawing your body in like a magnet - helpless to its every move.

“Don’t give me this kicked puppy front. We’re all human beings, Andy. And I didn’t fucking deserve you cutting your baggage open and just... dumping out whatever you felt like on me and then letting me go.”

Fuck.

He inhales sharply, head tilting in this sadness you seem to understand within the moment. It steals your breath, a pain punching your ribcage, causing your heartbeat to skip a few. Your jaw twitches as you turn away to gather your bearings, starting back down into the yard.

Why the fuck did I come here?

I'll be holding you tight

When the night is through

Andy takes a deep inhalation behind you and that catches you, dragging you right back. Before you know which end is up you’re turning back around and striding across the pool deck and right into your former lover. Andy meets you in the harsh rains, his hands cupping your neck so possessively, that you can’t remember a time where this hot mess of a man wasn’t bull dozing your life apart. You grasp his face in your palms, that unshaven stubble prickling your flesh. Your mouth meets his, his phone becoming ruined and forgotten as he lets it fall to the ground beside him.

His strong arms path down to encircle your waist, pulling you in from the weather, bunching your t-shirt up until it’s pooling around your tattered bra. You raise your arms to help him discard it, the heavy wet noise it makes when it collides with a nearby pool chair is enough to make Andy gain his surroundings.

“Stop, stop. Are you fucking high?” He asks you, a cautious pause.

You shake your head. “Aren’t you?”

This is when he scares you with a solemn silence you weren’t aware he could possess.

“Andy...” You push your fingers through his damp curls.

“No, I’m not. I was just about to... when you didn’t answer.”

Almost as if he can’t take revealing that bit of truth, he thumbs a bra strap down your shoulder - deliberately slow. Your skin stings with the line of goosebumps that it brings, your own hands struggling to push that stupid ass identical robe off his broad chest.

“I should fucking rip this.” You say, causing a smile to come from him.

“Rip it and I’ll put you on your knees.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” A challenging look presses your features, but Andy intercepts, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling your hair back. You feel the ache crack from the tips of your toes, hot wired into your cunt - direct express.

“You need more marks from me.” His mouth caresses your jawline, stubble catching the underside when his lips find your neck, a stimulation that you have become accustomed to craving.

His teeth bite down, a few seconds more where you feel him cleaning his evidence with a light set of kisses.

“There we go.” He scrapes his milky white teeth across your ear with a whisper so hot that you bow into him; knees weak.

Your bra is the next thing to fall somewhere, your jeans following. Andy doesn’t wait for you to even kick them off, his fingers sliding into your lace panties to see how much you still need him. He licks his lips, eyes closing in pleasure, a familiar stroking rhythm unraveling from the tips of his fingers.

“Shit, that’s a good girl. Even when you hate me you still need me, don’t you?”

The cockiness makes your wrist snap and palm collide with his cheek. You’re riled up, he’s riled up. Something you know he likes. “Like you fucking needed that?” Is your retort.

He groans out, a honey wet dip in his tone. “Only you can fucking touch me like that, Y/N.”

Lightening flashes through the darkened midnight skies, rain pounding across the surface of the pool to create a special beat. Andy finds your mouth in desperation once more, working your underwear down in a frustrated jerk. His fingers part your slick folds and ease into you without any warning. You look down to watch his strong forearm flex in its working marathon, back and forth between your thighs.

We'll be riding the tide in the sky so alive

On waves of blue (waves of blue)

I'm in love with the thought of being in love

In love with you (love with you)

You can bring me along for the rest of your life

If you wanted to (wanted to)

You let go and give into him, not daring to question why you came here in the first place. You know why. Andy has stopped his touches, watching you with that lowered stare he gives. His body is glowing from the neon lighting his home harbors, his creamy skin glistening with rain water. He’s hard through those silk pants, nothing left to the imagination.

“Take them off. Now.” You command him.

He can’t hide the greedy smirk that appears on his lips, not taking his eyes off you as his pants and boxers disappear in one go. He is gloriously hard and thick. You almost want to laugh at your cliche salivating tongue. Andy brushes your wet hair off your temple, his hands moving down your body in a tapping massage - reaching their target to hook behind your thighs.

He lifts you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. He’s panting rapidly, nosing your neck. He grips himself, teasingly stroking your cunt to gather your arousal. You stutter on an exhale, unable to breathe out properly. It’s jagged and broken, much like your rationality.

You stop him when he attempts to press inside you. “Tell me again,” You plead. He looks at you in confusion. “Say I’m just a fling.” You finish.

“Y/N...” He struggles.

“Before you fuck me, I want you to tell me what I mean to you, Andy.”

It’s hard not to just fucking forget this and let go, let him take you, both of you get what you want and not have to deal with anything else. But you need to hear it. You want to know how much you’re not worth anything to him. You need to hear it more than you need to find out how much you mean to him. That’s what you came here for...

His enriching ocean eyes are glossy with desire, with something else you can’t place. They pin you into a set of shakes. You grip the hair at his neck’s nape.

“Everything.” He says it all at once, bringing your hand down atop his to help him line up, as he fucks himself into your cunt, stretching you with that delicious drowning burn.

You're no good for me

You got what I need

I just wanna be with you

You cry out, vision sprinkled with an array of floating shapes. Andy drives you against the door, hips slamming so hard you know you’ll be bruised before the night is through. You keep one arm around his neck, lowering the other to encourage him to hurt you deeper, nails clawing at his lower back, shredding the skin. His face stays buried in your neck, stubble adding to each motion he makes inside. You cling tight, using all your strength.

It’s slippery, it’s unstable, you can barely hold onto one another, but you manage. And that moment when you finally can’t keep yourself up, Andy lets you slide down, bringing you into the floor of the doorway, lifting your legs onto his shoulders, pressing in so hard you can’t contain the tears that roll from the corner of your eyes, coasting. He’s familiarized himself with how you come undone, even before you knew.

“You’re drenching my cock, baby. You need to let it go?”

You don’t answer, causing him to grip your throat.

“When I ask you something I expect an answer. You remember how this works, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Andy!” You don’t pride yourself now.

He guides a hand across you, as if he’s tuning a fine instrument. Your stomach quivers with a passing of his fingertips, engaging in a butterfly filled stomach clench. You’re tensing up, anticipating. Desiring.

“Fucking do it! Show me how much you still need this...” He trails off, dropping to rest his chest against your breasts.

“Even if you don’t need me.” It’s a counter thought to your need to hear him say he doesn’t want you.

“I’ll always need you.” You push him onto his back with newfound strength, and pin his hands above his head, your hips bouncing so hard that you can feel his firm structure beneath. That’s right, this is exactly what you have to have.

He’s damn near whining now, squeezing your fingers tightly. “Y/N.”

It’s a warning you don’t need. You lean down to steal a kiss, leaving him further winded, nudging his nose with your own, breasts smashed to between you two. Andy gives a silent agreement, dropping a hand down to quickly rub your clit. Your heartbeat is so out of control that you can’t hear anything but your own cries as you cum all over Andy’s cock. He follows with you, holding himself, keeping you there.

He’s shaking when it’s over. You can’t find coherent speech capabilities.

I'll be holding you tight

I'll wait this through

You stay resting on top of him, still keeping him inside. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you know that there’s no going back now.

This is just another beginning...

~*~

Tagging: @dark-mei-rose @confettucini @lovelylangdonx

Lemme know if y’all wanna be added to the tag list?!!!!

[sass-and-suspenders]

Inquiry

GIF from plutoandpersephone

Pairing: Dr. Frederick Chilton x Reader

Author’s Note: In vain I have struggled …with the formatting of this story. Did I use html? Yes. Does it show up correctly when I preview it? Yes. Will it show up correctly when it’s posted? Knowing this website, probably not. I’m posting despite the (possibly) faulty formatting because I will snap like a stale rubber band if I have to fiddle around with it for a minute longer. That said, I hope you enjoy because this was fun to write (but not to format)

Frederick Chilton’s heart was beating far too quickly for something as mundane as writing an email. Normally, he could compose a message in a matter of minutes with little concern for how the recipient would react to his autocratic demands.

This time, however, you were on the receiving end.

And Frederick deeply cared what you thought.

It would have been easier if this was for a work-related matter. As the hospital administrator, Frederick often sent you updates about policy changes or questions regarding your patients. He wrote these emails effortlessly, addressing you like any other member of his staff while ignoring how his heart fluttered whenever your name appeared in his inbox. With the small exception of inquiries about your weekend (something Frederick never did with other employees), his correspondence to you remained strictly professional.

Until now.

It had taken months, but Frederick finally worked up the nerve to ask you on a date. It was non-traditional, asking someone out via email, but Frederick considered asking over the phone or in-person too risky; the chance of rejection was already high, he didn’t need to add to it by stumbling over his words or blushing in your presence like an imbecile. An email allowed Frederick time to organize his thoughts and select the right words to convey just how much you meant to him.

Writing may have been the safest medium, but it wasn’t the fastest. Fifteen minutes had elapsed and Frederick was still struggling with the salutation: ‘My dearest’ seemed too intimate, ‘Good afternoon’ too formal, ‘Ciao’ too pretentious, ‘Ahoy’ too …nautical.

Frederick fiddled with his pen and leaned back in his chair, refusing to acknowledge that he was out of his depth. His love life was preternaturally dormant, yes, but he was a man of science, not to mention a patron of the arts -he could write a simple email. He was just overthinking it, attaching too much significance to every word as if selecting the wrong one would result in rejection.

Sighing, Frederick left his desk to fetch some alcohol, a time-honoured cure for writer’s block. As he poured the amber liquid from the decanter, Frederick reassured himself of his literary prowess: he’d written a myriad of scientific articles, many of which won awards, and there was growing interest in a manuscript he was working on about the Chesapeake Ripper.

He sat back down at his desk with bolstered confidence and a glass of brandy. The opening still eluded him but, rather than dwell on it further, Frederick used a placeholder and began to work on the body of the email.

As he wrote, Frederick likened himself to a suitor in a Jane Austen novel confessing his fervent desire to his beloved. He only hoped that his prose would convince you to give him a chance since, considering the weather in Baltimore, he wouldn’t be strutting out of a lake anytime soon.

Inspired by this little reverie, Frederick soon finished. He took another sip of brandy before looking over what he had written.

To:

From: frederick.chilton@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Inquiry

[Insert salutation]

Ever since we met, I have ardently admired you. Your warmth, beauty, and quick wit are just some of the ways you brighten my day whenever I am graced with your presence. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner?

I await your reply with hopeful anticipation.

Yours,

Frederick

Satisfied, Frederick turned his attention to the greeting, lightly tapping his pen against his lips as he thought. It took a few moments, but Frederick finally settled on ‘Dear’, a classic opening. After switching out the salutation placeholder for ‘Dear’ followed by your name, Frederick read over the email one last time. He took a large drink of brandy before selecting your email address and pressing send.

Contrary to his belief, the beating in his chest didn’t slow once the email was dispatched. What if you rejected him? How would he bear to see you at work every day? Worse, what if you never responded, leaving him to perpetually wonder whether it was a silent rejection or a lost email?

The familiar ping of an email notification snapped Frederick out of his self-made purgatory. He took a few deep breaths, a half-hearted attempt to quell his rapid heartbeat, as he wondered whether it was a good sign that you responded so quickly. His eyes flicked to his inbox: there, sitting atop of messages from psychiatry journals and irksome colleagues, was a reply.

Only it wasn’t from you.

Frederick’s brow furrowed. Why was a nurse replying to the email he sent you? It didn’t take long after opening the email to realize his mistake: choosing the hospital’s listserv rather than your email address, effectively sending out his declaration of love to the entire hospital. He let out an almost inaudible whimper, knowing it was too late to retract the message.

Apparently, he could control the content of the message, but not its audience.

To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: angela.ramirez@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Inquiry

Ask them out in-person, you insecure little weenie!

Frederick hastily deleted the email, but two more popped up in its place like some sort of electronic hydra. It didn't take long for the wolves to respond, and Frederick could only stare at the screen in horror as the replies began pouring in. He swore he could hear laughter in the hallway and began debating whether he should move out of the country or just the state. Depending on how widespread knowledge of his blunder became it may even be wise to leave the continent. Vienna was supposed to be nice this time of year.

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: phillipa.canter@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Inquiry

Girl, you can do better!

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: jackson.doyle@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: valentine.anderson@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Please remove me from this list. Thanks

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: kevin.fishburne@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

EVERYONE STOP REPLYING ALL!

 Sent from my iPhone

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: gillian.coverly@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

‘Ardently’? Who does Chilton think he is, Mr. Darcy?

 Gillian Coverly, M.D.

Psychiatry Resident, BSHCI

gillian.coverly@bshci.com

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: jonas.dhavernas@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

More like Mr. Collins, am I right? LOL

 Jonas Dhavernas

Security Services | 555-3193 ext. 0315

Frederick harrumphed (he was definitely not a Mr. Collins) and made a mental note to schedule those two for the night shift for the foreseeable future. However, his indignation quickly gave way to woe as he continued to scroll through the other emails in his inbox.

To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: luis.torres@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

lol desperate much

 Luis Torres, PhD

Director of Forensic Psychiatry

(Tel.) 555-3193 ext. 0583 | (Cell) 555-2391 | (Fax) 555-8942

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: hettienne.moreno@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: ralph.chlumsky@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

I’d like to remind everyone that this listserv is for work-related emails only.

Please be professional.

 Ralph Chlumsky, Patient Care Manager

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: kevin.fishburne@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

SERIOUSLY STOP SENDING EMAILS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 Sent from my iPhone

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: bryan.dancy@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: judith.mulrooney@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

As a member of HR, I would like to remind you that you are not obligated to say yes to a date just because Dr. Chilton is your superior.

Please let me know if you would like to file a complaint against him for harassment

Sincerely,

 Judith Mulrooney

Senior Human Resources Manager

(Tel.) 555-3193 ext. 3598

 Nothing is impossible. The word itself says ‘I’M POSSIBLE!’ – Audrey Hepburn

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com  

From: it.admin@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Can everyone please stop replying all? Our servers can’t handle the load and might crash if this continues.

Thanks,

Your friendly neighborhood IT Department

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: dennis.abrams@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: alfredo.rohl@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 Hi, can anyone give me a lift to work tomorrow? I’m in Federal Hill

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: ellen.ostrowski @bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Everyone please stop replying all! It’s not that hard, and IT said our server will crash if we keep on doing it!

 Warmest regards,

 Ellen Ostrowski

Administrative Assistant for Dr. Bryan Dancy

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: shawna.neill@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Ellen, your “everyone stop replying all message” was also a reply all!

Ugh, I work with IDIOTS!

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: ellen.ostrowski@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Don’t get all high and mighty with me, Shawna, you also used reply all! Frankly, your use of reply all when the server is unstable is just what I’d expect from a lunch thief.

Warmest regards,

 Ellen Ostrowski

Administrative Assistant for Dr. Bryan Dancy

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: shawna.neill@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

FOR THE LAST TIME I DID NOT STEAL YOUR LUNCH!

 A groan escaped Frederick’s lips. How could this have happened? He wasn’t a tech genius, but he kept au courant with the latest gadgets and even implemented smart technology throughout his house. Of course, there had been small mishaps in the past, like when his iPhone autocorrected his last name to ‘Chicken’ and he couldn’t stop it, but nothing of this magnitude. As much as he wanted to blame his snarky colleagues for his misery, he had only himself to blame.

His iPhone was right: he was a chicken.

Frederick was in the middle of researching jobs in Austria, the dramatic part of his brain having overpowered the rational part, when your name appeared in his inbox. His eyes flicked to the now empty glass of brandy on his right before clicking on your reply.

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

I would love to, Frederick. How about Friday?

-Your Elizabeth Bennet

P.S. Judith, no need to get HR involved

Frederick blinked, not quite believing it. Despite his cowardice, and the mortification which ensued, you’d said yes. A smile slowly spread across his face, unaffected by the multitude of emails flooding his inbox in reaction to your answer.

He was still smiling when the hospital’s servers crashed a few moments later.

Tag list: @madpanda75​ @obsessionprofessional​ @madkingcrowley​ @im-like-reallythirsty​ @burningg-red​ @nikkijmorgan​ @misssirenlove​ @zoeykaytesmom​ @mommakat32​ @thatesqcrush​ @southern-magnolia​ @evee87​

[nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice]

Hi fren! Been following ur blog for a while and honestly I love it! I was wondering if I can get ur thoughts on something :)) remember in sozins comet when Iroh refused to fight ozai becuz “history will see it as more violence, a brother killing a brother to gain power” but then cue to Azula and Zuko who are fighting for the throne and it’s fine?? with them?? doesn’t that count as more violence as well? Thank if you ever come across this :D

Okay, first off, I think it needs to be clarified what Iroh actually said in that scene in regards to sending Zuko to defeat Azula because the two situations are very different and everyone involved knew that. The exchange went as such:

Zuko: Uncle, you’re the only person other than the Avatar who can possibly defeat the fatherlord.... we need you to come with us. 

Iroh: No Zuko, it won’t turn out well. 

Zuko: You can beat him. And we’ll be there to help. 

Iroh: Even if I did defeat Ozai, and I don’t know that I could, it would be the wrong way to end the war. History would see it as more senseless violence: a brother killing a brother to gain power. The only way for this war to end peacefully is if the Avatar defeats the Firelord. 

(dialogue, etc.) 

Iroh: Zuko, you must return to the Fire Nation, so that when the Firelord falls, you can assume the throne and restore peace and order. But Azula will be there waiting for you. 

When I see the argument that Iroh sending Zuko after Azula was hypocritical, I think it ignores the reality of the situation and the pragmatic approach. Because Iroh was absolutely correct throughout this whole exchange. Here were the facts as of this point: 

1. Iroh and Zuko were declared traitors and could not legally assume the throne once Ozai was defeated, meaning Azula would assume the throne by default.

2. By this point in the series, Azula had shown at every point that she was just as enthusiastic about waging war and had shown no remorse for the suffering of the Earth Kingdom at the hands of the Fire Nation. She was particularly enthusiastic about the two major affronts against the Earth Kingdom: conquering Ba Sing Se and using Sozin’s Comet to burn down the Earth Kingdom. 

3. Azula was the one who had the idea for the ‘let’s use the comet to burn down the Earth Kingdom’ plan in the first place and was proud of that plan. If Ozai was defeated, she would have used her position to go through with the plan anyway.

Realistically, this situation is in no way ideal, but the reality is that Azula did need to be stopped from assuming the throne. Make no mistake, if she had the opportunity to do so, she would have been at Ozai’s side burning down the Earth Kingdom instead of staying in the Fire Nation. She was dangerous and needed to be stopped and that was evident from her actions throughout the entire series. 

And the situations of Zuko defeating Azula and Iroh defeating Ozai are completely different, mainly because it was never Zuko or Iroh’s intention for Zuko to kill Azula like everyone else was planning with Ozai. The intent with Zuko going after Azula was to stop her from being crowned, which was a thing that needed to be stopped, otherwise, the war would have continued. And Iroh was absolutely correct in his assumptions: Zuko and Katara arrived in the Fire Nation just before Azula was crowned Firelord. And in the end, as we all know, they didn’t kill her, they just removed her as a threat so Zuko could assume the throne. There is a difference between taking out an actively harmful force in a position of absolute authority (Ozai) and stopping a harmful force from taking a position of absolute authority (Azula). 

There’s also the facts that 1. Iroh had his own history as a general who held siege on Ba Sing Se for 600 days, allegedly committed war crimes, and wasn’t exactly well regarded in the Earth Kingdom. 2. Like he said, a fight between Iroh and Ozai was not one that had a clear victor. Iroh was not the right person to defeat Ozai, Aang was, for many reasons. (There’s also the fact that Iroh’s arc came full circle as he freed the city he once laid siege on, but that has less to do with the pragmatic rationale behind the match ups and more to do with thematic purposes.)

And this is a thing that also bothers me. There’s an argument that Iroh failed Azula and that part of the reason she was how she was fell on him and I don’t think that’s fair. And this post by @withyoutilltheendofthecredits articulates why: 

the ideas “azula was a victim of abuse who was manipulated and hurt by ozai” and “azula had a hand in a lot of trauma for zuko due to her awful treatment of him” can and should coexist

I think it’s important to keep in mind whenever we talk about Iroh, Azula, and Zuko how their dynamic was in season 2. Firstly, Iroh’s priority through this show was to keep Zuko safe. In season 1, he wasn’t so much there to actively help Zuko find Aang (and on multiple occasions seemed to work against Zuko’s mission), but rather was there to stop Zuko from making stupid decisions that would get him killed while offering emotional support and training him to be a better firebender. Does he actually want Zuko to kidnap the Avatar and return to his awful, abusive father? No. But he does want Zuko to have something that gives him hope, something that keeps him going. And Iroh’s priority is to be there to make sure this kid doesn’t do anything too reckless. 

 In season 2, Zuko technically no longer has his mission as he’s deemed an enemy of the Fire Nation and Iroh more explicitly works to help his nephew mentally and emotionally extricate himself from the family members that hurt him. At the beginning of the season when Zuko is excited about going home after Azula lies to them, Iroh voices his suspicion because unlike Zuko, who’s still holding onto the idea that he can win his father’s love, Iroh is able to look at the situation objectively and knows that if Zuko goes home, he’s not going to be safe and he is not going to be met with any sort of love. 

Zuko: Did you listen to Azula? Father’s realized how important family is. He cares about me. 

Iroh: I care about you!

And through the rest of the season, Iroh tries his best to take advantage of their new freedom by showing Zuko that he does deserve control of his own life, happiness, and unconditional love. He’s trying his best to help him through this difficult time because part of Zuko’s emotional struggle in this is reconciling with the fact that no, his father doesn’t want him, at all. When he was banished, he had the ‘if I get the Avatar I can go home’ thing to cling onto, but Iroh and everyone else knew that Ozai never actually intended for Zuko to succeed or return. So Zuko has to deal with that in season 2 and doesn’t get to that point, he still tries to capture Aang and he still joins Azula in Crossroads of Destiny because he’s not ready to let that little bit of hope that he could return home go. It isn’t until he takes a stand against Ozai with the “it was cruel and it was wrong” speech that he really discovers who he is and what he wants and the main reason he’s able to come to that conclusion is because of Iroh’s treatment of him in season 2. 

In season 2, Iroh not only protects Zuko from physical harm and takes care of him in regards to sickness, food, and water, but tries to drill into his head that he didn’t deserve the treatment from his father and shouldn’t throw his life away trying to please him. That he can have and deserves a peaceful life. And Zuko keeps going down the self destructive path because he’s been convinced for so long that him proving himself to his father is more important than his personal safety or happiness. Iroh just wants him to put himself before the man that abused him. He hates it that Zuko almost gets himself killed multiple times for the sake of Ozai. There’s their talk in The Avatar Day and their fight in Lake Laogai that bring this to the forefront: 

Iroh: Even if you did capture the Avatar, I’m not so sure it would solve all our problems. 

Zuko: Then there is no hope at all 

Iroh: No Zuko, you must never give into despair. 

Iroh: And then what?! You never think these things through. This is exactly what happened when you tried to capture the Avatar at the North Pole. You had him and then you had nowhere to go. 

Zuko: I would have figured something out. 

Iroh: No! If his friends hadn’t found you, you would have frozen to death! 

Zuko: I know my own destiny. 

Iroh: Is it your own destiny? Or is it a destiny someone else has tried to force on you? 

And as Iroh acts as Zuko’s protector and tries to break him away from his self destructive mentality, how does Azula fit into that? Here are the interactions between Azula, Zuko, and Iroh in season 2: 

Azula trying to take Zuko and Iroh as prisoners to the Fire Nation with no remorse 

Azula attempting to shoot lightning at Zuko in the first episode of season 2 and Zuko only being saved by Iroh redirecting it at the last second 

Azula shooting Iroh and seriously injuring him (it could have been lighting, but I think it was just fire) 

Azula trying to capture Iroh and Zuko in Ba Sing Se and succeeding 

Azula manipulating Zuko into going back to Ozai 

Objectively, Azula is a threat against Zuko’s safety and there’s a good chance she would have killed him in the first episode of season 2 if Iroh hadn’t stopped her. He knows exactly how dangerous she is and made the decision that he was going to do what it took to keep Zuko safe, which he did. With this exchange in Bitter Work. 

This isn’t Iroh saying ‘I have no sympathy for my niece whatsoever and am choosing to ignore her’. This is Iroh saying ‘Azula has proven herself to be an objective and real threat and I need to keep Zuko safe from her.’ And he was correct. I feel like this stance is reasonable when the last two times she saw them she tried to shoot Zuko with lightning and actually shot Iroh. 

And the reality of the situation is that Iroh shouldn’t have had to be the one to raise Zuko or Azula. He wasn’t their parent and he shouldn’t have had to be responsible for them. Ideally, Ozai should have been the one to do that, but that wasn’t the reality of the situation. And Iroh was faced with a choice: go with Zuko who was banished, injured, and lost, or stay with Azula who was not in a good home with a good influence, but who was still the favored, prodigy princess. He had a choice of which kid to stand behind and I think it’s fair to say that Zuko needed Iroh more when he was banished. 

Ideally, there shouldn’t have been a choice for Iroh. Ideally, Iroh shouldn’t have had to raise his nephew. Ideally, Azula should have had a better parental influence who didn’t encourage her violent streak. But it was by no means an ideal situation. Azula was dangerous and remorseless and Iroh was entirely correct when he saw her rising to power and realized ‘if she isn’t stopped now, there is no telling what she’s going to do’. Because he knows exactly who raised her.

[atinydise]

Ateez trying to get their s/o back after leaving them for their exes

❦ Genre: Angst.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 3k9.

❦ A/N: I don’t know how you managed to do that but y’all made the pole 50/50 💀so here’s the first one that I made angsty and the 2nd one should be posted soon! - Thank you for all the little messages you added to the pole! It was really nice and I appreciated this a lot! Sadly I forgot to tell you to add your @ or whatever 💀so I can come & dm you but THANK YOU SO MUCH 🤍🦋

HONGJOONG

Not even 2 weeks later, your ex-boyfriend contacted you. You picked up only because he was supposed to take back the rest of his stuff in your apartment. [“When do you want to come?”] You asked coldly. [“A-Actually…. I would like to talk with you.”] He stuttered. You sighed. It was already hard for you to engage a conversation with him, knowing that he’s taken, and he wanted to talk like nothing happened. [“About what?”] [“Let me come to your apartment. I’ll be there in 10 minutes, okay?”] [“Then hurry up, I have some plans tonight.”] It was a lie. You didn’t want him to think you stayed all the time in your living-room, crying about your chaotic life. [“Sure. See you in 10 minutes then.”] You hung up right away, but it seemed important. Maybe he wanted to…? You shook your head to avoid these false hopes and went straight to your bedroom. The last days, you packed all of his stuff. Unconsciously, you started to remember all the memories you had with each item. Everything shirts, every CDs even his toothbrush.

You probably were too deep in your thoughts because the ring bell made your heart miss a beat. Picking up the box before leaving the room, you rushed to the hallway and opened the door. You prepared yourself during the 2 last weeks for your first conversation with Hongjoong, as your ex-boyfriend. But nothing prepared you to see him looking so happy with a dozen of roses in his hands. “What is that?” You immediately asked. “These are for you.” He handed the flowers to you. “I would like to apologize for thinking that I would be happier without you.” He added, ashamed. “I want you in my life Y/N.” One part of you were not surprised at all. You knew the day he had broken up with you that this decision was taken too fast. Looking once again at the red flowers, you rolled your eyes and grabbed them. Hongjoong started to smile more widely until you threw it harshly on the floor. “Do you think that I will jump back in your arms as nothing happened?” Your lips started to shake a bit; the emotion was surrounding you. “You threw me away as an old sock and ran to her. You ignored me for 2 weeks and came back just by telling me to let you go and to be more considering!” Your face was filled with anger and confusion. It was the first time Hongjoong saw this expression. He hated it. “Y/N…” “I don’t care if I’m still in love with you. I don’t care if I’m dying without you. Because anyway, I can’t see you the same way…” You sobbed. “You broke me in a million of pieces and came back today, trying to fix the mess that I am. And BECAUSE of you!” “Y/N please-” He tried to step inside. “Take your stuff and go away.” You grabbed the box and threw it on his arms. “Y/N-” “I said GO AWAY!” You yelled. He made you reach your limit. You yelled at him crazily, you were crying hot tears uncontrollably and pushing him away from your life. Not wanting to make you madder. He nodded and turned around. Right away, you shut your door. You were completely destroyed. He made you feel so bad that you hated yourself for still loving him.

SEONGHWA

The next months, Seonghwa was tormented. His ex asked him a second chance and he accepted. The media were sharing all the new couple informations. All his fans, his members and the staff were happy for him, but he wasn’t. Something didn’t feel right, and he knows exactly what. You. Even though these days with his ex-girlfriend were cool. It wasn’t you. Seonghwa wasn’t having fun like he does usually. When the regret started eating him inside, he decided to call you. Of course, you never picked up. And he couldn’t blame you for that. “Why you just don’t go to her house? You know she will be there.” Sighed Yeosang. “I don’t know…” he replied. “I think I’m scared.” “Just go. You might lose her for good, if you don’t do anything.” Seonghwa hesitated few seconds and finally left the dorm. He ran to your apartment. At each step, the frustration was worse. When he saw you far away the shape of your building. He almost ran back to the dorm. But the little Yeosang’s voice was stuck in his head. Seonghwa continued his way to your apartment. Right before climbing the entrance stairs, you came out, visibly in rush. Because of the expression on your face, you were surprised to see him here. “Y/N.” He smiled at you. “Seonghwa.” You replied instinctively. “I’m so glad you there I was looking for you.” “What do you want? You should be with-” “With you. You are the only one I should be with.” You scoffed, not believing a word he said. “How can you come here after all this time?” You asked, arms crossed our chest. “Are you already bored of her?” “Not at all. It was always you; I was just too dumb to notice.” “I’m not a toy that you can throw when you are bored.” “You are absolutely not a toy. Or a test or a break, whatever you say. This is my fault. I made a big mistake.” He explained, holding your hand. “Your mistake caused me to stay at home for weeks. To lost some of my friends, my self-confidence and esteem.” You removed his hand of yours. “While you were acting lovely dovely with her on every social media, I was all alone.” “Y/N, I will fix-” “Y/N?” You both looked at the person coming at your right. “Ah you there.” You smiled widely. “I can’t make you wait.” He winked. Seonghwa and apparently your new man looked at each other few seconds. “Is everything okay? Do you know him?” You stared at Seonghwa, “I’m okay… And it’s nobody.” You claimed. “Y/N.” He tried to stop you, but you carefully avoided his grip. You walked past to him and joined your “friend”. “Let’s go.” He opened the car door for you. Powerless, Seonghwa looked you leaving with someone else. That’s exactly, what he was scared to see. You with someone else who knows your real value.

YUNHO

“Yunho can you focus please. It’s the last shot and you keep making the same mistake.” Sighed the music video director. The tall boy apologized again and tried to focus back. Hongjoong grabbed his wrist. “It can’t continue this way. You need to look for Y/N after our schedule today. She’s clearly stuck in your mind all the time.” “But how?” “Just go.” He replied before positioning back. This is why Yunho was in front of your gate the same night. After your argument at the supermarket, you both decided to break up. Even if he thought that confessing to his ex would lift the weight on his shoulders, it stayed the same. He hated himself for that. When he was with you, he was non-stop mentioning Hyena. Now, it was the opposite. But even if his mind was completely fuzzy, his heart belongs to you and nobody else.

Knock knock.

“Coming!” The sound of your voice made his heart melt even more. “He-” He bowed politely to you. “Hello Y/N. It’s been a long time.” You stayed completely quiet. “I know you weren’t expecting to see me here, but can we talk a bit?” You bit your tongue interiorly, struggling to know if it was good idea or not. “It won’t be long. Promise.” You took a deep breath and finally stepped on the side to let him enter. “Thank you.” In a matter of time, you were both sitting on your couch. And it was totally awkward. “I know I acted like a complete jerk with you and I’m sorry for that. I thought that my feelings for Hyena were stronger, but it wasn’t.” He glanced at you, trying to see any reactions but you kept arbored this poker face. “I want you. I need you. I miss you. I love you. Not Hyena.” He confessed. “Please give me another c-” “I do want you.” You cut him. “I do need and miss you.” You added. Yunho was smiling widely at you, relieved that you forgave his silliness. “But I can’t love you anymore.” Immediately his face saddened. “Why? I’m sure I can make it work.” “Every time you pronounce her name, my love for you is fading away. Little by little.” You explained, moving your knees against your chest. “You pronounced it 2 times already, since you entered. Just with a name I feel awful.” You looked right at his eyes. “I don’t want to feel this mix of jealousy and pain anymore Yunho.” “Y/N.” “If this is all you wanted to say then you should leave.” Yunho didn’t want to make any scene, so he just nodded and accepted his fate. He put back his jean jacket and stood up. Before walking away, he looked at you. Without asking your permission, he kissed your forehead softly for few longs’ seconds. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. You bit your lip the whole time he left. When you heard the lock, you busted in tears on your couch. Why everything was so complicated?

YEOSANG

The way you left the backstage room the other day was haunting Yeosang. Going back to Kira was really a good choice? If yes, why does his heart hurts so bad? Before going to sleep he had few flashbacks of you. It was stuck in his mind for the rest of the night. It happened 2 times in a week and even more the following days. These insomnias caused him to be exhausted. The ethic schedule, his feelings and these sleepless nights caused Yeosang to drink more than usual. Tonight, he was the only client left at the restaurant. His table was filled with a bunch of Soju’s bottles. All empty. “Sir.” Called the waitress. “We took your phone to call someone who can get you back home.” “Nobody is going to pick me!” He yelled completely drunk. “The only one who did is gone! Like POOF!” He claimed. “She disappeared of my life.” “Don’t bother this poor girl with your dumbness.” You sat in front of him, visibly annoyed. “Y/N?” He smiled widely, his eyes completely teary. “You came back to me?” You glanced at the waitress and asked her 5 more minutes. To talk with him in private. Nicely even though you saw that she just wanted to go back home, she accepted. “You shouldn’t drink this much. You can’t hold alcohol well.” “This is the only thing that helps me to sleep and forget.” He tugged. “Forget what?” “Forget that I ruined the amazing relationship we had.” He sighed, looking for a bottle. You stopped him before he could drink again. “You shouldn’t talk this way to me when you are with someone else.” “I don’t care because she’s not you.” He replied, growling. You stared at him; he was feeling really bad about this situation. You were about to reassure him, saying that everything would be okay, when his phone lightened up and his wallpaper appeared. The pain was back once again. You remember why everything stopped. Because of her. Kira. "You shouldn’t keep my phone number as your main contact anyway." “But I want to! Just let me love you!” He shouted, pushing the table a bit. “But I don’t want you to call me!” You raised your voice as well. Even if he was completely drunk, he understood that you were rejecting him. “I called San and Mingi. They should be there in few minutes. Please stay here till they arrive.” You ordered, standing up. “Wait.” He almost fell in front of you. You raised a brow at him. “So, it’s over? For real?” Because I made a mistake?” Yeosang gulped, anticipating your reply. You wanted to tell him that he would possibly get another chance, but a notification lightened his phone again. Kira’s smile was the first thing you saw. You nodded and pinched your lips together. “Yes. It’s over.” Yeosang clenched his fist and stared at the ceiling pissed. “Delete my phone number please.” You asked one more time before turning around and leaving the restaurant. On the way back to your home, you walked past to San and Mingi. “Oh, it’s Y/N? No?” Asked San. “Was she crying?” Added Mingi. Yes, you were. How could you not cry when you felt like your life was falling apart?

SAN

You opened your letterbox. As the previous days, a rose was on top of your bills and other prospects. You knew that San was the one leaving a flower daily. You ignored what he was trying to do. He was supposed to live the “perfect love story” with his “new ex girl”. You weren’t supposed to be a part of this relationship. So as always, you threw it on the trash can next to the door. No way, you would accept it.

This little game lasted 3 weeks. He even added more roses for your birthday. San was making your confused. Your heart was torn between the pain and the incomprehension. One day, you finally decided to trap him.

You never saw him, but you knew he was probably waiting for you to leave and put the flower on your letterbox. So, you faked to leave the building as always and hid between the gate and a bush. As expected, you spotted San rushing to the hall. He entered the door code. Just before the door could close, you got out of your hiding place and followed him “Choi San!” He almost slipped when he heard your voice. He wasn’t expecting you to be there. “You scared me! I almost had a-” “What are you doing?” You cut him, walking straight in front of him. “J-just putting the rose as... always?” He scratched his head shyly. “Stop doing this. We are not together anymore, right?” “I regret it okay? Leaving you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” “I don’t care.” You replied. “You should have thought about it earlier.” “Don’t be so mean... I know what I did was wrong, but I can’t-” “Which part you don’t understand in ‘I don’t care’?” You almost yelled, snatching the rose off his hand. “Y/N, calm down.” He tried to make you lower your voice. “Don’t come and put these flowers here anymore!” You threw it back on him. “Y/N...” “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t talk to me! Do exactly as you did these last weeks! Forget me.” You ordered angrily. “I can’t do like you never existed.” He raised his voice. “You’ve done it extremely well.” Your voice cracked. “You completely erased me of your life. You made as I never existed, so continue! It helped me to stop loving you!” You shouted before leaving your building for good this time. San wanted to convince you that you were the one and only, but it was clearly too late.

MINGI

[“Hello Y/N.”] Once again Mingi was using Yunho’s phone to text you. He started to do that when he understood that you blocked his phone number. [“Mingi... I know that’s you.”] [“So… can you accept a call?”] [“I have nothing to say to you. Please stop texting me or using Yunho’s phone.”] [“Y/N just one call. That’s all I ask. Only one. Maximum 10 minutes.”] You hesitated. You weren’t forgiving him for sure, but you knew exactly the effect his voice has on you. [“6 minutes.”] You replied. In maximum 10 seconds, your phone buzzed in your hand. You took a deep breathe before picking up. [“So? What do you want?”] [“You.”] A big silence settled between both of you. [“I won’t come back.”] [“Think about how happy we were, together.”] [“Ah yeah, when you say ‘before’, you mean before you tried to dump or even to cheat on me with your ex-girlfriend? Who also, cheated on you?”] [“Yeah... I guess. But I never cheated on you!”] He was visibly ashamed, but also totally deserved this cold treatment. [“Any way, if you think I’m ready to forgive you... you are totally wrong.”] [“Y/N. I fucked up I know that... but please try to understand me.”] [“In no existing universe I will understand you Song Mingi. You know what?”] You paused, trying to let the anger down before you say something you would regret. [“Tell me. I need to know how you feel to apologize correctly.”] He replied, understanding that you were looking for the right words. [“How I feel? Well, I feel terrible because of you. I have never felt this way in my entire life. Why? Because you...] your voice cracked. You immediately wiped your eyes before a tear could escape. [“Because you ruined every pieces and aspects of me. I can’t look at myself in a mirror without feeling disgusted.”] Your lips were shaking uncontrollably, the words were stuck in your throat. Mingi was aware for sure that you would cry. [“I HATE loving you after all the pain I need to endure right now. I can’t even stop loving you. How weak I am for falling for your voice again? This is disgusting. This is sickening.”] [“I-”] [“I tried everything. I even imagined you cuddling her like you did with me. Just to hate you and maybe forget your existence but this is just...”] You paused once again, but to take back your breath and hold your phone correctly because of your shaky hands. [“This is just killing me inside.”] You clenched at your shirt. [“I d- I don’t know what to say. What I can do to apologize?”] He sadly asked. [“The 6 minutes are over.”] You claimed before hanging up.

WOOYOUNG

It’s been exactly 2 months after your discussion on the balcony. This was the last time, Wooyoung saw you. After few days, he finally asked his ex-girlfriend to date him again, but nothing. Not the sparkles he thought he would feel and not even the happiness. Nothing. He felt like an empty shell. His new girlfriend was nice and funny, but everything seemed so fake. Even on her side, she could feel that Wooyoung’s heart was somewhere else. One day, she confronted him. At the end of the conversation, they both decided that the best for them was to break up. He realized that the “feelings” for her, that he detailed to you the last time, were completely wrong. “You should go back to her. I’m sure she’s waiting for you.” She cheered him. Without thinking twice, he left her dorm right away and jumped in the first taxi. On the way to your house, he tried to call you but seems like your phone was completely off. He ignored how he would explain this situation to you. You were probably upset and mad at him. The thought of you hating him went straight to his mind. But the taxi stopped right in front of your flat. After the payment, Wooyoung opened the little gate of your garden. The apartment seemed unbelievably quiet; the lights were on but no sounds. He knocked once, repeating the same apology to practice. “Oh Wooyoung?” Claimed your roommate, surprised to see him here. “Hi. Can I talk to Y/N? Quickly? I know it’s late, but I’ll make it short.” “I would love to let you talk to her, but she left 2 weeks ago.” She said, biting his lip of nervously. “Left? Where?” He asked, not believing you could do something like this. “She went to Berlin.” “Berlin? But why Berlin?” “She had a job opportunity there... and because you broke up, nothing was holding her here anymore.” Wooyoung tugged in the side, completely lost. “I can’t believe it. How could she leave this way...?” “I’m sorry Wooyoung.” She patted his back, trying to comfort him a bit. “I miss her too.” The boy sat against the wall. He couldn’t stand up anymore. The thought of you being so far away, made him dizzy. “It was supposed to be a happy ending.” He bit his lip, trying to suppress the tears in his eyes. Your ex-roommate stayed quiet next to him. Not exactly knowing how to help him. “I really messed up everything.” He buried his face in his arms, not knowing what to do now. He lost you for food this time. He wouldn’t forgive himself for that.

JONGHO

The maknae ignored if waiting for you at the same place you spotted him and Sienna. was a good idea, but it was the only option he found. You brought all of his personal stuff to the dorm, you blocked his phone number and his social media account. Even when he was using his teammates’ number, you managed to reject him. How he could contact you? So, he came every day after his schedule and hoped to see you there. The first week, no sign of you, only the usual crowd. But just when he was starting to doubt about his strategy, you appeared. Just by seeing your face, his heart melted away. “Y/N!” He stood up off his chair and waved to you. He saw the expression on your face, it went to surprise to disgust in 2 seconds. You walked up to his direction even if your mind told you to stay away. “Jongho.” “Finally, you are here.” He smiled. “I came every day to have a chance to look for you.” “This is not the dedication you should have for you ex-girlfriend.” You stated annoyed. “Sienna and I broke up.” He said, thinking that you would be happy about that. Instead, you raised a brow. The look you gave him once again wasn’t the one he expected. “So… because you broke up, you think you can go back to me as nothing happened?” “I-I thought yes. But seems like it was a bad idea.” “Yes, it is. How can you think I would say ‘Oh yes let’s go back together and act like the perfect little couple again?” “I wanted to prove you that I made a mistake. And so that I want to fix it.” You started to laugh loudly, gripping your belly to reduce the abdominal cramps. All the people around, started to look at you weirdly. Exactly like the last time. “This is not happening Jongho.” Wiping your eyes. You replied coldly. “On no other earths, no other planet or not even the entire space, I would accept to date you again.” “I completely regret it Y/N.” He almost begged you. “Yes, and you should.” You stood up. “This is not because Sienna “the perfect girl”, broke up with you that you should run to me.” “Listen.” “No. You listen to me. I’m not a toy. I’m a human with feelings and so on.” You pointed at your chest. “You hurt me so much that I managed to erase you of my life. “You don’t need to do it because I will fix it. I promise.” “Don’t come to look for me anymore.” You grabbed your bag, leaving before he could add something. Even though you said that you erased him of your life, you didn’t and honestly, you don’t think you would someday. You will just need to live with the pain.

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Under My Skin: Chapter 5

Words = 9k

Summary = You’ve been kidnapped by the First Order and Poe wants needs you back

Warnings = No fun warnings I’m sorry! There is a happy ending, but before we get there it’s, kidnapping, forced drugging, aftermath of that, general pain, hurt/comfort, violence, hospital setting. I think that’s everything? Please, please, please let me know if I’ve missed anything - this got a lot darker than I intended (if you have any questions before you read, just shoot me a message and I’ll let you know!)

A/N = Sorry this chapter took so long - i think it might have actually killed me. But we’re at the end! Just wanted to say thanks to everyone who’s read this far, and stuck with the story, I love you all!  

Also special thanks to @michaelperry who beta’d this like a month ago and gave me some really good advice! 

Posted to AO3

Chapter 1   Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

***

When you wake, it’s cold. You're in a chair, hands strapped to the arms. It takes you a long time to open your eyes; your head is pounding and the bright lights shining on you are complicating matters.

The room swims slowly into focus as you blink, feeling like there’s glue on your lash line each time you try and open your eyes.

The room is a bright white, smelling faintly of chemicals and you keep blinking, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. You move your head slightly, trying to think. There’s something just floating outside of your consciousness, something important you should be remembering, but every time you grab for it, it floats away.

You don’t know how long you sit like this, drifting in and out of consciousness, with little to no perception of what’s around you.

When there’s a loud slam, your whole body jerks forward in shock, but there’s nowhere to go. You’ve begun to lose most of the feeling in your arms, but your mind is beginning to feel clearer. Now you can hear a whirring beneath you, the slight vibration letting you know you’re on a ship, and it’s already in flight. How long have you been traveling for? You’re still cold, goosebumps up and down your arms as your teeth chatter slightly.

You focus on the person standing behind you, not bothering to turn your head. “It’ssnot polite … to … to slam t’door, y’know,”  You're shocked when your voice comes out more slurred than you meant it to.

The figure behind you just laughs, and it sends shivers down your spine. They walk forwards slowly, a cloak wrapped around their body, hood off. He seems a little familiar to you but you’re not sure why.

The room is coming more and more into focus, like someone’s turned up the intensity of your vision, and you can see that there are cupboards lining the wall in front of you, various tables and medical equipment visible.

The man had pale skin, ginger hair, although he was starting to lose it, his hairline creeping back in a subtle widow’s peak. He smiles, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “Oh dear. Struggling to talk?” His tone is mocking as he leans towards you.

Your mouth feels dry, like it’s been stuffed of cotton wool and you can’t think. You can’t remember … anything. How did you end up here? Who is this horrible man in front of you? Why does he look familiar?

You try to talk again. “Wha’ve’oou givenee?”

It’s a struggle to manipulate your mouth fast enough to separate your words, your tongue clumsy in your mouth, but you try. “Wha’ve you givenee? Given? Given. Me?”

“It’s wearing off, good good. Don’t worry sweetheart, you’ll be able to talk properly in around …” he looks at his wrist, considering. “Maybe 15 minutes?”

Sweetheart.

That feels familiar - why?

The man takes a seat, a much comfier looking one than the one you’re sat on, looking prepared to wait. He’s calm, shuffling through papers and clattering objects around. You try and pull it together, closing your eyes in an attempt to concentrate. You have 15 minutes before something’s going to happen. He wants you to be able to talk … so … so … so why can’t you think?

He wants you to tell him about the resistance.

Of course. The resistance. He needs information … and suddenly fear shoots down your spine.

Except obviously you won’t give him what he wants. So he’s waiting because…?

Why can’t you think?!

Someone else used to call you sweetheart.

And suddenly there’s a tan face in your memory, grinning at you and calling you sweetheart. And you can remember feeling frustration, but it’s different. This memory-frustration, it’s like a warm bubble inside you, rising and bursting as you call the man an idiot.

His hair is amazing.

You know his name. You know you do. It’s right there on the tip of your tongue - …

The man in the chair coughs, and the face flies out of your head, leaving a sharp pain in your chest instead. Why?

And gradually, you’re also becoming aware of a throbbing pain in your head. You don’t know what the cause is, whether you hit your head, or if it’s something as simple as dehydration.

There’s a high-pitched beep and the man sits up in his chair.

Poe.

You nearly gasp his name out, stopping yourself at the last second. But why does thinking about him hurt?

The man doesn’t seem to realise your inner conflict, or if he does, he doesn’t care, instead scraping his chair across to sit in front of you. “So sweetheart, let’s run through some basics. I’ll ask you a couple of questions to test where you are, then we’ll see what you know.”

You can smell his breath. It’s minty, matching his too-white teeth, and you hate it. You hate him. You already know you won’t answer a single one of his questions.

“Name?”

You nearly laugh, they don’t know your name?

“Sweetheart tell me what your name is, so I know that the drug is out of your system.”

You just blink at him, in that split second deciding on your tactic. Absolute silence.

You don’t get a reaction from him, however, instead he moves onto the next question.

“Date of birth?”

It takes an effort to not automatically respond, but you don’t change your expression.

The man just sighs again.

“Do you know who I am?”

You don’t, but you don’t reply.

“My name is General Hux and I am to deliver you and Poe Dameron to Kylo Ren.”

General Hux. And suddenly you remember Poe telling you something.

You laugh, unable to stop yourself. “You mean General Hugs? Aww you’re my favourite, I’m flattered that you of all people in the First Order would come to find me.”

You get the first flicker of annoyance crossing the man’s face. Then it resolves itself, and he grins. “So you can talk clearly now,” he stands, scraping the chair over the floor. “Good, good.” Opening one of the cupboards he pulls out some clear liquid in a large jar and a couple of bags, placing them onto a small table with a clatter, which he pushes towards you.

And all at once, with a heavy thud in your chest as the memory flashes across your eyes, you remember what you said to Poe. And that after, you walked into the forest-

You love him.

Fuuu-

Your line of thought is interrupted by the man saying your name. You clench your fists, suddenly aware of how cold your fingers are. You’re an idiot.

“You better start answering my questions now.” The man sits back in front of you, pulling the table next to him. And now you can see what’s in the bags. Absolutely enormous needles attached to syringes.

Your throat goes dry.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuck!

You try to squash the fear, instead baring your teeth in a grin. “Why? Will General Hugs be cross?”

For good measure, you add a pout in, and maker, you’ve never been so glad to be a piece of work.

“I will. And you won’t like me when I’m cross.”

You ignore the flash of fear you feel, instead concentrating on moving your feet inside your shoes in a futile attempt to warm them up. Your laugh is cold. “Oh I think I’ll be ok.”

He picks up a syringe, carefully unwrapping it, before drawing some clear liquid into it. You continue, ignoring his attempts to intimidate you. “After all, I don’t like you very much now, so I can’t even imagine what you could do to me to make me hate you more.”

He ignores you, tapping the syringe and watching a bubble float to the top. “Do you know what this is?”

Be annoying.

“Well if it’s the same thing as the first one you gave me, I wouldn’t recommend it because then I’ll just pass out again and you won’t get a coherent answer out of me, will you?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, those people had nothing to do with the First Order. They just needed the money.”

“So the First Order don’t even have the manpower to come and get me yourself?” You tut. “Standards are slipping.”

“Mouthy bitch, aren’t you?” He’s still playing with the syringe, and you can’t help but eye the needle warily. “No, this is different. Lowers your inhibitions, your perceptions. You’ll tell me things you don’t even realise.”

“Ahhhh so you see, you’ve made a mistake there.” You’re talking rubbish, but you can’t seem to stop yourself, in full flow now. “I don’t have any inhibitions, anyone will tell you that I’m utterly shameless so I just, I really, really don’t think it’ll worth giving it to me, it just won’t work, and who knows how much the drug cost and what a waste, I really don’t think you, the great General Hugs would be hap-”

Your steady stream of consciousness is stopped when he slaps you with a resounding crack, your head flying to one side.

Pain immediately blooms on the side of your face, and you have to blink away a few tears from the impact.

“Don’t talk about what you don’t know, silly girl, I need to find out where Poe Dameron is and-”

You interrupt with another laugh, and maybe that first injection addled your brain more than you thought it did, because that truly was a stupid thing to do. You’ve never acted like this before, and yet there’s a small voice in the back of your head telling you that Poe would be proud, so you keep going.

“You don’t know? So it’s pure luck that you found me - no wait, that I was delivered to you! Maker I love being right, standards really are slippi-”

The second slap hurts more than the first.

You sit there for a second in dumb shock, blood pooling in your mouth from the blunt force.

When Hugs rips your sleeve up your left forearm, holding the needle against your skin, you start to twist your wrist in it’s cuff, desperate to get away. You can see your wrist turning red, and your hand is starting to hurt from the force you’re using.

Hugs doesn’t waste any time though, using one cold hand to hold your wrist above the cuff still, gripping it tightly, he plunges the needle in with the other. When the needle pierces your skin, it hurts, you can feel the liquid soaking into your muscles and traveling up your arm.

The effect of this drug isn’t immediate, and so you sit there for a moment, arm aching, determined not to show how much this hurts. You turn your head to the other side and spit out the blood in your mouth, the red a bright contrast on the sparkling floor.

A mix of saliva and blood trails from your lips, and you explore your mouth with your tongue, finding the area where your teeth cut the inside of your cheek. You remove your tongue immediately upon finding it, not needing to add further pain to another area of your body.

Stars but the needle hurts.

“Do you-?” You nod towards your arm, naively hoping that Hugs will remove the needle. “Do you mind removing the needle, I mean-”

You stop talking when you move your fingers by accident and a stab of pain shoots up your arm.

Fuck the needle is massive too.

Hugs just grins, and the movement looks unnatural as he stretches stiff facial muscles, leaning back into his chair, tidying up the instruments on the table. “Maybe you’ll learn some manners,” is all he says.

“I thought - … I thought you wanted me to talk?” Your body is starting to hurt now, and it’s starting to be a struggle to speak again.

Except now you can feel the drug’s effect. It’s hardly noticeable at first, but gradually, gradually, the pain is receding. And the effect of this drug is different to the last, it’s lifting you up, making everything dream-like and fuzzy.

Everything thankfully stays in your mind, although you can’t help but giggle. Something’s funny.

“Tell me about General Dameron.” Hug’s voice is stern as he leans towards you and all you can do is let out another giggle.

General. He’s just Poe. Your Poe.

“I don’t know anything about him.” You’re such a bad liar. You’re trying to keep your face innocent and blank, but giggles keep rising up, and you’re sure it’s ruining the effect.

“I think you do.”

You giggle again. Maker this is good fun. Dimly, you register that your arm doesn’t hurt anymore and you stare as you wiggle your fingers, only feeling a faint thrum through your arm.

“Well you think wrong.” Are you singing? Singing sounds like fun.

“Can you confirm he stole kyber crystals alongside you a cycle ago?”

Fuck and you remember that mission so well. It was such a disaster. But as funny as this situation is, it remains in your mind that the man in front of you is a very bad man, and you can’t tell him anything.

“Answer me.” The command is sharp and stern, and you don’t like it. Hugs is mean. With a name like Hugs, he should really be nicer. You’d think he would be cuddlier, like a teddy bear. Instead he’s all sharp angles and words.

You pout. “No.” He’s so rude. Why should you answer him anyway? “Don’t you know? Me and Dameron hate each other - I know nothing about him.”

The phrase feels so familiar on your tongue, yet something about it is clunky, old-fashioned. The denial is an old friend of yours, and maybe you should have pushed down your feelings for him in the same way, and maybe you would already be feeling better. This pain in your chest is too much.

I don’t love Poe Dameron.

Even in your head it sounds flat.

Another slap to your face twists your head the opposite way. This one doesn’t hurt, you only notice it from the movement of your head.

“Answer me.” The commanding tone breaks through your dreamy haze. You have no idea what the question was, but you can feel a liquid pooling at the corner of your mouth. You blow out slightly, feeling a bubble forming.

The safe option is a petulant “No.”

“You will.”

“I will not.”

This is actually quite a fun game - the more you refuse, the more visibly annoyed Hugs gets. He’s trying so hard to stay calm, to stay in control, but you can see it in the twitch of his fingers. It kind of reminds you how Poe used to fight his annoyance towards you, the only difference being that Poe never moved to hurt you.

The questions continue for what feels like hours and hours. You have no perception of time, or how long has passed, only that you’re hungry and thirsty, and Hugs keep giving you more of this drug. You can’t remember what you say in response to the questions, but the one thing you keep in mind is not to tell them anything.

And one by one, each of your friends appears tauntingly in front of you, Rey chasing her head around the room, Rose uncontrollably floating above you like a balloon, Poe looking suspiciously normal, although with heavier eyebrows than usual, causing him to frown more. He upsets you first, telling you he’s glad you’re not friends, before saying that he hates you, he always has, he was just taking pity on you, that sleeping together was just stress relief. And then he sprouts wings, turning into an eagle, flying around the ceiling, where Rose was minutes before, except now you’re sobbing.

You’re aware that you’re hallucinating, each of them have a suspiciously shiny quality to them, a shimmer at their edges. But the idea of Poe telling you he hates you, that you never meant anything to him … it hurts.

Gradually, gradually, you can feel a tug of darkness at the edges of your mind, and everything inexplicably hurts, so you let it take you, if only so you won’t hurt anymore.

***

Back at base, Poe had never felt so out of control before. He’d always struggled with impulse management, the answer usually so clear in his mind. Suit up, jump into his x-wing, blow the problem up.

He couldn’t blow this problem up.

Everyone was moving so fast around him, yet they didn’t seem to be doing anything. You weren’t back, so they couldn’t be. Poe felt almost detached, looking down on his body surrounded by everyone who was working hard to find you.

He made his way to his x-wing, though he didn’t remember getting there. He was holding his flight suit, and some part of him was aware that he had to put it on if he wanted to fly.

“Poe.” The voice was familiar behind him.

Turning, he saw Leia standing behind him, a look of pity on her face. “Droids have tracked the lieutenant through the forest where she was joined by two others, identity unknown as of yet.”

Poe nodded. Numbness was spreading through him, he could hardly move, the idea of speaking was laughable.

“There were signs of a struggle, but we’ll find her Poe.”

What if she doesn’t want to come back? She’s not my friend.

“Poe.” There was a hand on his shoulder. It takes a great deal of effort for him to focus on Leia in front of him. Her hand was touching him, and it felt so familiar to yours, and yet so different, in almost every way that felt like it mattered. “It’ll be ok.”  

“I’ve got to go.” He was going to get you back, hell or high water.

In fact, it didn't even matter if you didn’t want to come back with him.

Poe shakes his head, “We’re not friends!” still ringing in his mind.

You were going to come back to the base if Poe had to drag you, if only so he could have a proper conversation with you before you left for good.

He hadn’t even realised he’d been flirting with the recruit until you’d turned up, and then suddenly you’d commanded his whole world view. How competent and confident you’d looked, hitting the target with each of your shots, before he’d come to the conclusion that you were jealous.

By that point, you’d already stalked away, shoulders tight with a scowl on your face. He had been able to see your lie, that you really were jealous, as soon as the words had left your mouth, your denial too strong, too protective.  

But why? Why didn’t you want him to know you were jealous? As far as Poe was concerned, it was kind of hot.

You couldn’t run away, or die before Poe got the answers.

You couldn’t. He wouldn’t allow it.

He stooped to pull the flight suit on, shrugging off Leia’s hand.

“Poe I’m not letting you chase after her.”

Poe ignored her, instead bending slightly and concentrating on doing up the buttons and various zips.

“Poe listen!”

General Organa was speaking now, not Leia, and it made Poe stop, straightening automatically.

“I am not giving you permission to leave base. Rey and Finn have already left.”

Poe steps towards Leia, and stars he feels angry.

“I am the best flyer in the resistance and you’re grounding me?”

He ignores the way his head spins when he remembers the look on your face that night you’d told him he was the best flyer, how you’d said his mum would be proud of him, how-

He shakes his head, not wanting the memory right now, blinking hard as tears well in his eyes.

“Yes.” His fingers flex at his side at Leia’s calmness.

“Why not?” He doesn’t want to snap at Leia but he had to get you back. He was going to murder those bastards who took you … if they had hurt you … “I can’t lose her, Leia, I can’t.”

“You’re not in the right headspace right now, and I can’t risk-”

Poe laughs, cutting Leia off and it’s not nice. It’s a little loose and a little mad, louder than it needs to be. “You can’t risk what? Losing me?” He bends again, this time tightening the harness straps around his legs and they’re tight, too tight. “I can’t risk losing her, Leia.” He takes a deep breath, shaking fingers attempting to loosen the straps, attempting to take back control. “I c-an’t.”

Leia’s heart broke as Poe’s voice cracked. For the first time in a long time, she saw the young boy who had come to the Resistance as soon as he was able, desperate to prove himself and throw himself into the middle of the fight.

So she steps forwards and hugs him. “I know, I know.” Leia can feel Poe trembling.  “But you charging off with half a brain isn’t going to fix anything.”

Poe allows himself to be held, head empty for a moment. He feels exhausted, yet every nerve within him is wired up to go, although he doesn’t know where. An indeterminate amount of time passes before Poe realises that Leia is probably doing all she can to stall him.

When this thought trickles down into his mind, he steps back. Perhaps because Leia can read him like a book, or perhaps because she really does want to help, she offers a small smile. “Come with me.”

Poe doesn’t have much chance to reply before Leia’s steering him by his elbow, keeping a tight grip on him. He’s led to comms, a room he’s aware of, but has never been in before.

Rose is sitting, hovering over a comm worker who Poe’s unfamiliar with. They’re sitting at a messy workstation with a number of small screens, a mess of wires cascading out of the back. The comms worker has an earphone in one ear, while the big centre screen is turned on, showing what appears to be Rey and Finn’s position.

There’s a pain in Poe’s chest as he looks at the other, empty, workstations. This is what you're worth to the Resistance. One comms worker and a friend.

Rose stands, flinging her arms around him. She’s talking, but there's a buzzing in Poe’s ears and he’s missing some. “... she’ll be alright.”

Rose has drawn back, and it’s like the bubble has popped around Poe, bringing him back to the present. He nods, suddenly aware of how hard Leia is still holding onto his arm, and briefly wondering if he’ll have bruises.

Poe picks up his own set of earphones and moves to power up the next screen over, clicking through to Rey’s comms, mind clearing as he and the comms worker start to talk through it.

After all, Poe’s always been good under pressure, blocking out all distractions, including Leia’s instructions to the droid by the door not to let Commander Dameron leave until the Lieutenant was back.

***

When you wake, you’re alone. The drug, whatever they gave you has worn off, and your headache has returned. You’re shaking, covered in sweat. When you try and make a fist with your good arm, you can barely apply enough pressure to close your hand.

You’re still strapped to the chair and unable to move your arms. When you glance down at your left arm, the blood makes your stomach turn. Everything seems sharper than it did before, more pronounced edges, yet the surfaces have lost their colour, looking duller.

Your mouth is dry and you know that if you could have some more of the drug, just a little, you’d feel better. But there are more pressing concerns; you need to get out of here.

Your feet are on the floor, good. Your head itches, and your ribs ache like you’ve been hit around the stomach. There’s something dried on your chin, irritating your skin, tightening it.

It’s hard to think, it’s so cold in here, like the ice is numbing your brain. Your headache is pounding behind your eyes and doesn’t help. But you try to stand, thinking you’ll attempt a turtle-like shuffle to the door.

Except you can’t.

You try again, bracing your feet against the floor and trying to stand. It takes you longer than it should to realise that it’s not working because you’re pressing down with your arms too.

You slump back into the chair with enough force to cause it to move, trying to catch your strength, panting heavily and not sure what else to do.

It takes you longer than it should for you to realise what that means, the thought barely trickling down into your mind.

Ok.

With a lot of careful angling and heavy slumps, you manage to twist the chair so it’s facing the door. It’s made of the same material as the walls, barely distinguishable apart from a keypad and metal grille.

Which Rey and Finn are looking at you through.

You sigh. Great. That’s what you need right now, more hallucinations. They look shocked, faces slack, until Rey disappears and Finn smiles reassuringly at you.

Briefly you wonder if Rey’s gone because her head fell off again. Then you consider if your hallucinations can get any weirder.

The next thing you know the door is swinging open, creaking slightly on its hinges and Finn’s rushing over to you, Rey poking around behind you.

“Can you stand?” Finn’s asking, looking down at you, brow furrowed. You can only nod in response, although you’re not confident in your answer. Your limbs are stiff, and even now you can move, it’s a struggle.

There’s a brief pain flickering in your left arm, and you focus on not looking at it, remembering the amount of blood. It takes Finn’s arm around you to help you stand, and you can’t help the gasp of pain that escapes you. Your vision goes dark for a second, before returning, duller than ever.

***

Finn knew what the First Order was capable of, especially when they wanted information from someone, but it was never any easier to see. Especially when it was someone he cared about.

He watched you struggle to coordinate your legs, having been kept in the same position for hours. Rey moves ahead, drawing her lightsaber in anticipation while Finn half carries you down the hallway.

He’s worried at the amount of blood you’ve lost from your arm, but your face is swollen and bruised, with dried blood at the corner of your mouth, and staining the collar of your shirt. You’re still conscious, just about, but your eyes don’t seem to be focusing.

The three of you pass the bodies of the two stormtroopers who were unlucky enough to be guarding your corridor, before sneaking out. Ducking into alcoves, they attempt not to be caught, although it’s hard to stop you from making noise.

If it’s not moans of pain, you’re commenting on something under your breath, and what little Finn can hear doesn’t seem to make sense. The look on Rey’s face tells him that she doesn’t get it either.  

And they’re so close, nearly back to the hangar, when a pair of troopers spot them. Rey is already swinging as Finn rushes to put you down before he can draw his lightsaber and help. The fight is desperate, but brief. Thankfully no alarms seem to be going off, although that thought flies from Finn’s head when he looks back at you.

You’ve slumped against the wall where Finn had placed you, and you’re shaking as you try and stay sat upright. You’re no longer looking at them, instead your brow is furrowed, concentrating on something only you can see in front of you.

Finn isn’t entirely sure how they managed to make it onboard, but he wasn’t about to complain, carefully strapping you to help keep you upright if you faint. He uses the small med-kit to wipe away the blood from your face and arm as best as he can, applying bacta patches where he can see injuries, the familiar sweet smell soon filling the small ship.

Rey is quickly in hyperspace, comming back to base with their status. “Blue-10 with the Lieutenant, medical attention will be needed on arrival.”

Both Rey and Finn jolt with surprise at the familiar voice crackling through the comms in response. “Received and understood Blue-10.”

“Poe?” Finn mouths, and Rey just shrugs. A second later, Poe’s switched to a private channel, his voice quiet.

“How is she?”

Rey and Finn look at each other, unsure how much Poe needs to know. They don’t want to lie, but how can they tell the truth? Rey clicks the private channel open, hesitating before she replies. “She’s stable Poe.”

***

Waking up hurts.

You’re lying down, and although your body hurts, you feel calmer. There’s a steady noise matching the beat of your heart, slow and steady, although the noise speeds up as you blink at the ceiling.  

You’re not sure if you’ve got a plan, but you know you need to get free. Something is holding you down, becoming more and more tangled around you, and your whole body hurts.

And then, suddenly the weight is pulled off you, and you feel like you can breathe again, big gasps failing to get more oxygen into your lungs. You struggle to control your breathing, not feeling ready to face whatever new terror the First Order have concocted for you.

It’s Rose. Holding a brown blanket.

You push yourself into a sitting position, ignoring the flare of pain in your arm, waiting for a second, hardly daring to breathe as you wait for her to change in front of your eyes.

When she doesn’t, you can feel some of the panic recede, although you can’t seem to force yourself to relax. Rose folds the blanket, placing it at the foot of your bed, and you watch her carefully, still wary.

When she meets your eyes, you attempt a smile, pain pulling at your mouth and cheek as you do so. You can tell it’s not convincing by the way she smiles back, tears flooding her eyes.

You look away, blinking heavily to stop your own tears.

Your head and shoulders are raised slightly, and when you look down, you’re wearing a paper-thin hospital gown. It’s scratchy against your skin, feeling like bugs burrowing into you. Rose is sitting next to you, tinkering with something she’s placed on your bedside table, hands hovering just above her lap, like she wants to help, but doesn’t want to overstep.

“Hey.” Her voice is soft. “How are you feeling?”

You nod, not sure what you’re feeling, exactly, just that your hands are shaking when you try and put them on top of the covers, that you’re shivering, and your stomach is rolling.

You open your mouth to tell Rose so, and you throw up.

It’s warm, and liquidy and the smell makes you throw up again, and again. Rose has jumped back, and you don’t blame her, rolling your body to your side so you can spit the rising bile out of your mouth onto the floor instead of onto the mess on your bed.

By the time you’ve stopped being sick, Rose is standing at the end of your bed with a pair of nurse-droids, who escort you to a bath, cleaning you up, and then to a different bed, this time with a bowl in reaching distance. You don’t say anything, hot shame creeping up your neck and face, and hoping, praying, that maybe you’ll pass out again, and you won’t remember this.

No such thing happens, and you’re left to be looked after by the droids. Rose never leaves you, although for the period of time you’re covered in sick, she does keep her distance, only returning when you’re clean in bed again, this time wearing a softer t-shirt and shorts.

It’s only when one of the nurse-droid’s returns, arms full that you notice it. It’s carrying a vase of flowers, which Rose later tells you is from your squadron, and, in it’s other hand, carries a familiar datapad, with a piece of paper on top and a chocolate pudding.

Poe’s been here?

You can’t stop the way your heart stutters in your chest at the thought, and although you want to smell the chocolate, you think that’s probably a good thing you can’t with the state of your stomach at the moment.

The nurse-droid hooks you up to various machines this time, inserting a drip into your non-injured arm, along with a heart monitor, and a couple of other machines you don’t know the purpose of.

Your head still hurts, and you’re shaking, but you try your best to listen to the doctor who checks your vitals are normal and tells you that you’re going to get worse before you get better. The drug they gave you is an addictive one, and the next 5 days are going to hurt.

She keeps telling you things, but you start to zone out as black spots appear in your vision. Rose is nodding in understanding at your side, so you don’t feel too bad, concentrating on just staying awake.

All you can think about is the drug and how light it made you feel, how quickly it made time pass. Every movement hurts, like you fell 50 foot out of an x-wing, but aside from your arm, you can’t see any physical damage.

You fall in and out of sleep, Rose a constant presence at your side. She’s tinkering with something the first few times you wake, and she explains what it is, and what’s wrong with it to distract you from the pain. You ask the occasional question, enjoying the steady sound of her voice, while yours is croaky and hoarse.

When you wake with a clearer head, the lights are dimmed to a soft yellow, and Poe is asleep, head resting on the foot of your bed. Rose is gone and you’re glad; you don’t know how long you’ve been in bed, and you hope she’s getting some rest or proper food.

His flight suit is wrapped around his waist, top half covered by a dark t-shirt. If you bend your head to a certain angle, the light catches on his necklace around his neck. Poe looks exhausted, his body twisted at a weird angle, thick stubble growing on his face, and eyes red-rimmed, even as he sleeps.

Trying not to jostle him, you reach out to the datapad and unfold the note Poe left on top, avoiding the chocolate pudding like the plague.

Enjoy the chocolate pudding, Finn is bullying me to get some rest.

I’ve downloaded a couple of holovids, see you soon Poe x

You’ve never seen his handwriting before, and it’s easier to read than you’d imagined, thinking he’d be the type to write in a messy scrawl, his hand unable to keep up with his thoughts.

It’s short, but something about it makes a warmth flare inside you. You read it until you know it off by heart, before folding it back up and placing it on the datapad.

You still feel tired, and you watch Poe sleep, the room silent except for the steady beeping of the machines at your side. You’re not sure how much time passes, the world around your bed feeling hazy as you half doze, not wanting to tear your eyes away from Poe, hardly daring to believe he’s real.

You jolt awake when he does, his arm reaching across your legs as he grasps your calves in a panic. One of the machines beeps increases with your heart rate, but you ignore it, you and Poe staring at each other, wide-eyed, as though a quick movement will make the other bolt.

His hands are still holding your legs, warm and grounding.

“How are you feeling?” His voice is hoarse as he slowly releases his hands.

You nod, and you hadn’t noticed it before, but your neck is stiff. “Good, I guess.”

Poe nods too, and where did this tension come from? He takes a breath as you look down at the hem of your blanket, idly wondering why the medbay would buy such a horrendous shade of brown.

Maybe it’s to hide stains.

You immediately wish you hadn’t thought that, the implications freaking you out a little, upsetting your sensitive stomach.

“I … I wanted to apologise.” Poe’s voice thankfully breaks through your increasingly worrying train of thought. His hand fly’s up to touch his ring. “I clearly crossed a boundary - I thought we were friends and -”

You interrupt him when you throw up, thankfully into the bowl the nurse-droid left this time, but it’s no less embarrassing as bile stings the back of your throat. Poe immediately moves up closer to you, hand reaching to rub your back as you try and hide in vain from him.

His hand is warm and comforting, moving slowly up and down your back as you continue to heave. When you finish retching, Poe silently hands you a glass of water, which you use to swill your mouth out, moving to place the now semi-full bowl to the other side of you when Poe takes it from you.

You can hardly bear to look at it, let alone smell it, and Poe is carrying it like it’s nothing, taking for the nurse-droids to dispose of. When he returns, he’s wiping his hands with a disinfectant and you wince.

“Poe I’m so sorry.” You decide to risk a sip of water, trying to get rid of the sick taste still in your mouth. “I’ve been sick all day and I’m sorry.” You’re ready to keep apologising but Poe just hands you a towel, which you use to wipe your mouth.

“It’s ok.” He reaches down for the blanket, and you let him tuck you in, suddenly aware that you’re shivering again. He reaches for his datapad, opening it and beginning to talk. He’s reading a children’s story, one you recognise as being from Yavin IV, a sweet story about a frog learning of the perils of the jungle.

Your eyes get heavier, and Poe’s voice fades into the background, the last you hear is the frog swimming in freshwater, unaware of the danger around the corner before you fall asleep.

***

When you wake, he’s gone, but you don’t get much chance to think about it before the nurse-droids are back, along with the doctor. She’s a nice woman, chattering away, telling you her name (Dr Alloso Karga), about her children (she’s got lots), and the trouble they get into (almost constant).

You don’t say much, still feeling the after-effects of the drug, but Dr Karga doesn't seem to need much additional input. You’re glad of her stories, they give you something else to think about while she hooks you up to an IV drip, and takes measurements from all the machines beeping at your side.

She unwraps the bandage around your left arm, revealing a thin scar running alongside one of your veins. “I’ll give you a cream to rub on every morning and night, and it’ll fade.” Her voice is kind as she watches your face, but you don’t react, numbness spreading through you like ice as you look at the scar.

All you can think is how small it is, when you remember the pain it caused, and the blood you lost from it … and now you’re left with this tiny, almost pathetic scratch. Dr Karga places the cream on your side table, next to Poe’s datapad and his note, and you already know you won’t use it.

Thankfully she doesn’t push the topic, leaving soon after.

With not a lot else to do, you fall back asleep, despite the bright light shining in through the window opposite you.

Days pass like this. Rose and Poe are frequent visitors, with Rey and Finn dropping in occasionally, as does Kare, and Jannah. No one seems to expect much of you, which is nice, allowing you to fall asleep at random intervals when the mood strikes you.

***

When you wake again you’re not sure how many days you’ve been in the medbay for. You don’t feel sick at all anymore, your stomach’s rumbling beneath the covers. Your head still hurts, and your body still feels bruised and achy, but your mind feels clearer than it has in days.

You’re still hooked up to a couple of machines, but only by a clip to your finger, wires extending down past the edge of your bed. It’s easy to take off, and you figure it’ll be easy to put back on again.

The chocolate pudding left by Poe has disappeared, and you suspect one of the nurses has binned it, which was probably a good idea. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you pause when a rush of cool air hits your bare legs.

You pad barefoot over the cold medbay floor, praying that it’s clean. There’s no one else in any of the other beds in your room, and when you look out, there doesn’t seem to be anyone next door either. A couple of hundred meters to your left, through the glass in a pair of double doors, you can see the busy reception. Meanwhile, to your right the corridor extends.

You shiver a little. You’re not wearing much, just shorts and a thin t-shirt. With no one around, you don’t feel too exposed, but you would quite like to get back to bed. You choose to go right, figuring you’d quite like to eat alone and save yourself any embarrassment if your stomach decides to reject food again and wander casually in quiet curiosity.

You peek through the windows of various spare rooms, some with people in bacta tubes, others with droids chittering away. And, it’s only when you turn the corner, that you see the food sign over the door to a small storeroom.

Letting out a happy little sigh at all the food lining the wall, you fumble for the light switch, the door closing and quickly engulfing you in the darkness.

Moving forwards you aim for the chocolate which has immediately caught your eye, letting out a shriek of panic when a hand lands on your shoulder.

Twisting around in panic, your bare foot catches on the corner of a shelf and you let out a howl of pain. You’re falling, and you’re gonna land on your injured arm when the stranger’s hands grab hold of your shoulders, righting you enough that you can catch yourself.

Muttering breathless ow’s of pain, you look up to see none other than Poe in front of you, his lips twisted in amusement.

“You alright?” He asks.

You can only nod, and before you feel any doubt about what you want to do, you fling your arms around his neck and hug him. He’s so sturdy, and here, and you finally feel semi-normal, and all you want is to be grounded.

Poe doesn’t say anything, just lets out a long-suffering sigh, wrapping his arms around you in response. It’s not until you feel his chest catch on a breath, that you unwind slightly, pulling back so you can see him.

He’s crying.

“Poe, Poe, it’s ok.” You wrap him back in your arms and let him cry. He just holds you tight, like he can’t believe you’re really here standing in front of him. Both too soon, and too late, he pulls back, wiping at his eyes.

“Why are you in here?”

It’s a genuine question, but you marvel at him for a second. “Why are you in here?”

Poe looks like he would quite like to say something he thinks is funny, but eventually lands on on a serious response. “I wanted to see what you were up to. You looked very shady.”

“Oh.” You shrug. “I woke up, and I was starving.”

Poe stands next to you as you grab whatever looks good off the shelves, mainly chocolate, but also juice, and some sandwiches. “You should look after yourself.” His voice is gentle.

“I am!” You protest. “I need to eat.”

“You couldn’t have asked for help?”

You raise an eyebrow at him as the two of you move to the door. Poe follows you as you try to explain yourself. “No, I-”

You stop talking as you open the door by a crack, your eyes widening. Rose is stood in the room opposite, slightly blurred from the glass door, running her hand up and down Jannah’s arm, while the other is in a sling.

You gasp as you watch Rose lean forwards, placing a kiss on her lips, hushing Poe behind you. “Poe, Poe, Poe, look at this, are you watching?”

Your whisper is loud and you grin, bouncing on the balls of your feet, momentarily forgetting your aches, before quickly closing the door as Rose and Jannah move closer to kiss. You don’t want to invade their privacy too much.

When you turn, Poe’s grin grows as he takes in your face. “I knew it!” You dump the contents of your arms onto the floor, settling in for a while. “I knew they liked each other!”

He’s managed to get his leather jacket back from Finn, and he takes it off, laying it on the floor for you to sit on. You tuck your feet under you, glad to get them off the cold floor.

The two of you eat together, and you gain confidence as more time passes and your stomach seems to have settled, branching out to more flavourful foods.

Afterwards, he walks you back to your bed, carrying some spare food for you, with his leather jacket hanging off your shoulders. Poe calls a nurse-droid over to hook you back up to your machines and you pout at him in complaint. You’re starting to shake and sweat again but Poe stays for as long as he can, until he has to go to a meeting, promising he’ll be back soon.

He’s not gone for long, and you’re just starting to get bored, when Rose pokes her head around the door.

“Where have you been?”

You can’t help yourself; you grin like a cheshire cat.

“Where have I been? I think I should be asking you that!”

And there’s a definite blush rising on Rose’s neck, tinting her cheeks a faint pink. She still tries to deny though. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” you draw it out, “I just so happened to be walking around earlier and was surprised to see that Jannah had managed to injure herself.”

Rose sighs and it’s long-suffering. And then she slumps into her chair, opens her mouth and tells you everything.

How she and Jannah had started to spend more time together, but they’d been friends for so long. How hugs for comfort turned into something more. How they’d kissed for the first time when Jannah had asked her out. And now, how it was turning into something more and, Rose’s voice went quiet here, she thought she might be in love.

“Oh Rose,” you sigh, your heart filling for your friend. “Are you gonna tell her?”

When she nods, it takes all your self-control not to jump up and hug her, instead settling for clasping her hands in yours. “I’m sorry.” Rose whispers. “Will you forgive me?”

Your heart stops, brief panic flickering in you. “What for?”

“That I didn’t tell you sooner.” A heavy sense of guilt starts to weigh down your chest, especially as Rose looks so distraught.

“No! It’s fine,” you try and convince her. “You wanted to wait until you were sure.”

Rose nods, but still looks upset, and you know what will cheer her up. “Besides, I'm not going to be cross. I kissed Poe.”

You wince at Rose’s shout. “What!” She stands, bending to give you a hug, and you breathe in the familiar scent of her shampoo. You grin, much more naturally now, glad she’s happy. You tell her everything in much the same way she told you, the first time you’d slept together, and then the next time, how you’d argued, what had happened in the store cupboard.

“Is he coming back?” Rose asks.

You shrug. “I don’t know. He said he would, but I don’t know when.”

Rose settles properly into her chair, resting her feet on the edge of your bed frame, looking smug. You last all of two seconds. “What?”

Rose just closes her eyes, looking more and more pleased with herself by the second. “I just love being right.”

You attempt to kick her, but there’s no malice behind it. You spend the rest of the time discussing the latest topic of interest on base (Snap and Kare’s wedding), and what a recruit had apparently said to Leia, laughing the whole time.

***

When Poe returns, he’s carrying two plates. Rose had left a while ago, and you were idly poking through Poe’s datapad, seeing which holovids he’d downloaded.

The two of you eat your dinner quietly, Poe finishing before you. “Can I ask you something?” He looks nervous in a way that you’re not sure you’ve ever seen on him before, eyes shifting down, while his fingers dance nervously in his lap.

You nod, still chewing, not wanting to rush your dinner and unsure how to make Poe feel more at ease. You have a feeling you know what he’s going to ask, and -

“Can we be friends?”

Oh.

You swallow faster than you should, letting out a small cough. You place what’s left of your dinner to one side, and put your hands over his. “I shouldn’t have said that.” You start.

Poe opens his mouth to respond, but you shake your head before he can. “No, don’t - don’t say anything, just listen.”

Deep breath, in and out.

“What I meant was … friends don’t sleep together, Poe. And I know we never talked about it, but I didn’t realise how much I liked you and,” You take another deep breath and when you speak again, your voice is smaller than normal. “I didn’t like the way you flirted with that recruit.”

Poe grins with his teeth. “So you were jealous?”

You look away, not quite ready for that conversation. “Poe.” His name is a warning, and you’re tired.

So Poe lifts your hands, enveloping them in his and gently kisses them. “Sorry.” It’s a murmur. “When we realised you were gone, I’ve … I’ve never been so frightened. I begged Leia to go and find you but she wouldn’t let me.”

You look back at his face. “Good.” His smile is gentle now, and at this moment, you prefer it. “And I’m fine now, Rey and Finn found me …”

Poe rolls his eyes. “You are not fine, you’re in the medbay.”

He doesn’t say anything for a beat, fiddling with the hem of your sheet, and just when you think he won’t say anything else, he speaks again, his voice quiet and sure.

“I like you too. A lot. And I would quite like it if we could go on a date?”

You don’t reply immediately, letting a slow smile open up your face, nodding, suddenly shy. You want Poe closer, moving to the far edge of the bed and opening the sheet in a clear invitation. “C’mon, get up here.”

It says a lot, you later think, how keen he was to climb in next to you. His body is so warm and reassuring next to yours, a solid presence of real proof, that someone cares about you so much that it doesn’t matter how gross you are when you’re ill, they’ll stay for as long as they can.

You wait until he’s tucked in next to you, desperately ignoring how the machine behind you starts beeping faster. “I would love to go on a date.”

And then you groan. “This is so embarrassing.”

Poe laughs, his body shaking next to you. “You have to finally admit you fancied me all along.”

“Well so do you.”

You’re looking at Poe as you say it, and you don’t miss how his breath hitches a little. His face moves closer to yours, and your tongue darts out to wet your lips as your mouth suddenly feels dry.

Your heart rate speeds up again behind you, but you’re ignoring it, wanting Poe to kiss you. You’re disappointed when he speaks instead. “I like this monitor.”

His eyes are smiling, and stars he’s cute, even if he is being annoying.  

“What?” You’re confused, your eyes had been half-closed in preparation, and it takes a lot of effort to open them again.

“It tells me what you think.” You don’t stop looking at Poe’s lips as he talks.

“Yeah?” You’re breathless. “And what am I thinking right now?”

“That you like me this close.”

You hum, half-amused, half-annoyed. “Anything else?”

“I think you want to kiss me.”

You pretend to think about it, smiling back at him. “Do you?”

“Yes.” He’s so keen. “Do you?”

“I thought you knew the answer to that.” You’re teasing him, and he knows it. Your faces are closer than ever, breath mingling.

And Poe’s just looking at you like he could eat you, and it takes mere seconds before you crack. “Poe will you kiss me?”

“I was going to.”

You huff. “When?”

His hand cradles your jaw, thumb on your chin, and you bend into it, kissing his palm without breaking eye contact. “It won’t hurt you?”

You smile at him, reassured. “No.”

You can tell he’s still hesitant, so you kiss his hand again. “I’ll tell you if it hurts Poe.”

He inches closer and closer, so slowly, until his lips are touching yours. It’s soft, and gentle, like he’s kissing you for the first time. His hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer to him, as you open your mouth, deepening the kiss.

The date is a success, with the worst part enduring Rose’s teasing, and your promise to never doubt her again.

***

Everything taglist:

@fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog

Series taglist

@lady-sigyn @foxilayde @afootnoteinyourhappiness @tellthemall-i-saidhi @wasicskosgirl @seninjakitey @zoriis @zazzysseoul @studentville-struggles

Thanks for reading! Reblog and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Aaaaah I’ve finally finished! This has been such a blast to write (but not chapter 5 lmao) and I’ve learned so much about my writing style and what i struggle with (plot I’m looking at you). This series started as a short one-shot which was going to be divided into 4 sections, detailing how reader and Poe’s relationship changed, and what I’ve ended up with is so so so different - my original outline had no kidnapping and was wildly different honestly, but I’m really proud of this - back in June/July i hardly had the patience/concentration to sit and finish a one-shot, let alone a whole series! Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story, I love you all!

[chicgeekgirl89]

In Between the Highs and Lows, There’s You and Me

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes

Rating: T

Summary: A series of missing moments between T.K. and Carlos from episode 2x10 "With a Little Help From My Friends." Featuring: T.K. and his innuendos, Carlos as the most understanding person ever, and both of them being ridiculous and sweet.

A/N: Our boys have moved in together and I am very happy! Huge thanks to @bluenet13 who told me to just write a post-ep and not think about it too much. And who also checks my Spanish because she's a wonderful human being! Enjoy!

AO3/ff.net

                                       XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“I’m very handy?” Carlos said as soon as Owen walked out the door. “T.K. seriously?”

“Well you are,” T.K. said, a smirk all over his face as he hooked the waistline of Carlos’ pants with one finger and pulled him close.

“Yeah but in front of your dad? You might as well as have said, ‘Hey dad, my boyfriend and I had sex on that couch two days ago.’”

T.K. rolled his eyes. “He could not care less. He probably didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah well I did,” Carlos protested, though not very strongly considering the way T.K. was pressing up against him right now.

“Apologies officer, it won’t happen again.”

One look at T.K.’s face told Carlos that it absolutely would. “Tu si eres tonto,” Carlos muttered.

“But you love me anyway,” T.K. said with a grin, leaning forward and capturing Carlos’ mouth in a kiss. 

Things quickly got out of hand. Things with T.K. usually did. The kiss deepened, T.K.’s hands coming up to run through Carlos’ curls, while Carlos’ skated up and down his sides. 

When T.K. pulled away and moved to kiss Carlos’ neck, Carlos felt himself sag a little bit into his boyfriend’s embrace even as reason tried to take over. “T.K.,” he said weakly and then swallowed hard as T.K. nipped at his earlobe. “T.K. we have a lot to unpack.”

T.K. paused for a moment to look up at him, lips swollen, chest heaving, eyes full of mischief and desire. “I live here now right?”

“Yes.”

“Then it will still be here to unpack later.” T.K. said, attacking Carlos’ mouth once more, reaching for the bottom of his shirt and stripping it off over his head in between kisses. 

And Carlos gave in. Because he always gave in to T.K. Because he loved this crazy, slightly reckless, sexy man he’d chosen to share his life with.

T.K. moved Carlos backward toward the stairs and then had to catch him because Carlos stumbled over a box of what was probably more of T.K.’s shoes. The man had so. many. shoes. “See, this is why we should unpack first,” Carlos said breathlessly. “This place is a fire hazard.”

“Mmm…pretty sure I’m the former firefighter in this relationship and I think it’s fine,” T.K. said before he leaned in and whispered something so dirty in Carlos’ ear that he forgot how to breathe for a moment. 

“Well I guess the bed is unpacked,” Carlos managed as T.K. grinned, proud of how much sway he had over his boyfriend.

“See, now you’re thinking.” T.K. grabbed his hand and tugged him up the stairs. Carlos smiled that stupid, besotted smile that only T.K. could cause and let himself be pulled along. If this was what living together was going to be like, he could get used to it.

                                                XXXXXXXXXXXXX

T.K. stormed through the front door, letting it slam shut behind him as he hurled his backpack to the floor. “Whoa,” Carlos said, looking up from where he was sitting on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

T.K. bit his lip and put his hands on his hips. “My dad cancelled his fucking surgery.”

Carlos set his book down and sat forward. “What? Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know!” T.K. threw up his hands in exasperation. “I only found out because Mateo told me. Apparently the night after I moved out, the two of them got all liquored up and my dad just…confessed all these things to him. Including that he is no longer scheduled for surgery.”

T.K. paced back and forth, so agitated he could hardly see straight. “He lied to me. Again.”

“Hey,” Carlos got up and gently put his hands on T.K.’s shoulder to stop his frantic movements. “It’s going to be okay.”

T.K. looked up into his eyes, tears pricking at his own. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” he said desperately. “Carlos I—”

“It’s all right.” Carlos wrapped his arms around him and pressed his lips to his hair. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

They stood there for several long moments as T.K. breathed through the whirlwind of thoughts assaulting his mind. When he finally pulled back he felt calmer, but something like grief still sat heavily in his stomach. “God I swear, sometimes I wonder if he’s ever told me the truth a day in his life,” he said with a sniff, wiping at his eyes. 

“Sometimes parents aren’t very good at being parents; even when they love us,” Carlos murmured, cupping T.K.’s face gently and running a thumb over his cheek. 

T.K. closed his eyes and let his head fall against Carlos’ shoulder, Carlos’ arms tightening around him in another hug. “I just don’t get it,” T.K. said. “Any of it. Why he didn’t just schedule it in the first place. Why he didn’t tell me that he cancelled it. God, it’s like he thinks I’m always about three seconds from a bender. No matter how many times I tell him I’m good he hides things from me. First the cancer, then the baby, now this.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s about you,” Carlos said. “I think he can’t handle his own feelings about it. So instead he hides the truth. From himself as much as you.”

The words soothed his raging spirit in the way that only Carlos could. T.K. looked up, frowning slightly. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”

“Lots of practice talking down angry suspects,” Carlos said, cupping the back of his neck and pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Come on. I made bolognese. You’ll feel better after you eat.”

Carlos started to walk away but T.K. caught his hand and pulled him back, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” he said.

Carlos smiled and brushed a hand over his cheek. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

                                     XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

T.K. leaned his head back in the passenger seat a sigh escaping him. Carlos looked at him tentatively from the driver’s seat. “Are you sure you want to leave like this?” he asked.

T.K. blew out a breath. “No. What I want is for him to see what a freaking idiot he’s being and how much the whole team cares about him so that he reschedules the stupid fucking surgery and we can be done with this.” He shook his head. “But he’s too god damn stubborn for that so we may as well go home.”

Carlos turned the car on and they drove home in near silence. He could practically feel the anger and confusion and sadness pouring off of T.K., but the best he could offer was a hand to hold at red lights.

“I think I need some time by myself,” T.K. said when they got home, defeat in every line of his face, the heavy sag of his shoulders.

“Okay,” Carlos said. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

“Thanks.”

When Carlos had first met the Strands he’d been envious; they seemed so close. Weird for sure, but a tight knit unit, the way a family should be. Nothing like the awkwardness he’d felt for so long around his own parents; constantly worrying that he would slip up and say something that would cause them to push him out of their lives putting a strain on their relationship.

But the more he saw of Owen Strand and the more T.K. revealed about his past, the more Carlos saw the cracks. T.K.’s constant need to please, his tendency to shut others out, all brought on by the emotional loss of his dad at such a young age. And the way Owen tried not to bother T.K., not to involve him in any of the more sordid details of his own life, to pretend that everything was a-okay at all time, probably as a result of his own regrets and guilt over T.K.’s choice of coping mechanisms in pills and booze. 

They loved hard, but it was a broken love.

He heard the shower turn on as he checked his email and then busied himself with tidying up the kitchen and living room. They still hadn’t found a home for everything of T.K.’s so he did a little sorting and rearranging, but it was mostly him just trying to keep his hands busy so that he could pretend to ignore the gnawing worry in his gut about his boyfriend.

When an hour and a half passed and T.K. still hadn’t reappeared Carlos started to get concerned. He didn’t want to cross any boundaries, but he was also conscious of how T.K. tended to shut down when upset.

“T.K.?” he called as he walked up the stairs.

There was no response and it caused Carlos’ heart to beat faster as he reached the top and walked down the short hallway to their bedroom.

T.K. was sitting on the floor next to the bed, knees drawn up to his chest, hands covering his face. “Hey,” Carlos dropped beside him so they were shoulder to shoulder, wrapping an arm around T.K.’s shoulders, his other hand coming to rest on T.K.’s knee. “Talk to me.”

T.K. took a shaky breath and leaned heavily into Carlos’ side. “I shouldn’t have left him. This was a mistake. I should have seen it. All the signs were there and I missed them. It took Mateo one night to figure it out.”

“T.K. he didn’t tell you. Did he give you any indication when you suggested moving out that he was upset about it?”

“No. No he was supportive and happy for me. But I should have known that he couldn’t handle it on his own. Heck the last time he got bad news he moved us across the country. My mom leaving…it’s tearing him up. And then I left him too, all alone in that house without anybody but a dog for company.”

Carlos sat with him quietly for a moment. “T.K. what do you want?”

T.K. looked up at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to go back and live with him? Because if you do, that won’t change anything for us.”

“No. God, no I…” he swallowed. “I want to be here with you.”

“Your dad is a grown man, T.K. His feelings are not your responsibility or your fault. If he’s struggling, he needs to be strong enough to get some help. Just like you did.”

T.K. blew out a breath. “It’s crazy how he thinks that telling me things will make me fall off the wagon when really it’s him not telling me stuff that drives me to the edge.”

“Do you need me to take your wallet and keys tonight?” Carlos asked quietly.

T.K. shook his head. “No. No I’m okay. I…being here with you is enough.”

“He’s going to get through this,” Carlos told him. “Your dad is a good person. And smart. He’s going to figure it out. And I’m with you every step of the way, whatever that looks like.”

T.K. looked up at him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He nudged T.K.’s shoulder. “You know what would help distract you right now?”

“What?”

“Dealing with all these boxes we never unpacked because someone insisted on having move-in sex.”

“Or,” T.K. countered. “We could have ‘my dad is making stupid life choices and I’m upset about it sex’ instead.”

Carlos wrinkled his nose and laughed. “Yeah. As much as I love having sex with you, I don’t think either of us should be interested in that kind. Come on.”  He pulled T.K. to his feet. “Someone has to figure out where to put Marlon Blendo.”

                                 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: I swear it did occur to me until many hours after I wrote this that talking about things being a fire hazard in the condo is...very foreboding considering what's coming in a couple weeks. Ah well! Also I have a personal head canon that Carlos is a big reader, so that will likely be making appearances in future fics.