#he only wants to give his best self to his partner and his standards toward himself are terribly unfair

[billthebullfrogs]

sure thing.

“Hey, firecracker,” a voice—unmistakable, to you, at least —calls from behind, and you instantly knew who it was. “Need to talk to you.”

There was only one person that would call you that nickname. Luke Castellan, the bane of your existence, thought it was extremely funny to remind you of that one time you almost burnt down the pavilion. The moment they figured out it was you; you had earned the nickname you dreaded so much. He loved reminding you of embarrassing stuff you did. You desperately wanted to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face. What did he even want? Didn’t he have something better to do than to bother you?

He leaned against one of the posts in the arena, eyebrows raised expectantly. He just needed a change from training the newbies. He wanted to go all out, and the best person to do that with was sadly you. Well, at least the satisfaction he’d get from beating you—because he would beat you, obviously, was totally worth it.

You sighed, “What?”

“Need a sparring partner, that's all,” he said, a smirk still tugging at the corner of his lips, now accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “And I'd rather have you than anyone in this camp.”

“That sounded too nice for your standards... Are you that desperate?” Your eyes narrowed; you were skeptical.

“Desperate to beat your ass, yes," he said, an easy laugh breaking past the steely look on his face. Luke was aware of the fact that he often annoyed you, and maybe he liked it just a little. "Besides, I wanna try some new sword techniques I came up with. So, whaddya say? Pretty please?" His head tilted a little when he said that, he was giving you that look.

You were silent, biting your lips just like you always did when you were focused. After a moment, you gave in. “Fine,” you said. Maybe you’d benefit from this, too.

"That’s my girl," he said as he casually walked toward you. "I promise not to go easy on you. If you feel like you're gonna trip and impale yourself with my sword, just say the word, alright?" A smirk flitted past his lips, though his words seemed genuine enough. Luke knew you would never stop being rivals. But the feeling of respect he had for you was real. He trusted you and even cared for you, but he’d rather commit war crimes than admit that.

“Fuck you,” you spat as you got into your signature fighting stance. Maybe this was a mistake, but if you gave up already, he’d think you’d gotten cold feet.

“If you ask nicely.”

That smug bastard. You hated him with all your heart. You hated his stupid smile and the way he made everyone around him feel comfortable, even you. You hated the butterflies he gave you. You hated his guts.

With a smooth slashing motion towards his torso, you started the fight. He blocked it with ease. Without a further word, Luke went in towards you with a quick and precise strike, sword arm extended forward in a tight grip with the tip aimed towards your sternum. He wanted to overwhelm you, thinking you hadn’t improved since the last time you sparred. But oh, was he wrong.

You’ve been watching him, his rather aggressive style of fighting, and the look in his eyes when he tried a certain move for a long time now. You’ve fought him many times before, and you were getting the hang of it. You’ve been training a lot, and while he was busy with the new campers, you had developed your own, unique fighting style. He knew you as a pretty good fighter, who could almost keep up with him on a good day. Almost. But now, you’d surpass his expectations. You blocked his hit, your body moving smoothly like liquid. Instead of using all your strength to try and withstand his attacks, you just gave in. Let loose. You used the force of his hit and channeled it, transferring it into your own with ease. He did not see that coming.

You'd always had a strong sense of intuition and your body would respond accordingly, as if it had a mind of its own. Luke was quick to counter, his body leaning back with a fluid motion to avoid any of your quick strikes, all the while trying to find an opening. The back-and-forth movement that was once just a spar has now become a deadly dance of swords, the two of you constantly in motion, no pause in sight. There is a certain excitement in the air, almost a spark that has ignited your mutual hostility and aggression.

Your movements were fluid as if you could predict all of Luke's moves in advance. You were a master of timing, of anticipating all of the demigod's strikes. Not once could he match your fluidity, his movements jerky compared to your graceful flow. There was something about the way you both fought so elegantly that made you feel like you were part of an agile performance, each of you matching the other's movements perfectly. It felt less like a fight and more like an art.

Yet even as you moved with effortless ease, the clash of swords kept you both on your toes, your bodies moving in such perfect sync that neither could find a flaw in the other's defense. Your movements almost appeared as if you were both working together, but this was not the case—in fact, Luke was becoming more frustrated by the second as he strained to find a way to slip past your guard.

“You’ve improved,” he breathed out while you fought. “I like it.” The way he said that sent shivers up your spine. It was embarrassing how these words affected you so hard that you made a small mistake. It was a mistake that could happen to even the best swordsmen in history, but a mistake nonetheless. And it led to his sword held at your throat. You fucked up. And he made you feel it, the cold tip of his sword gently tapping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You prayed that he didn’t notice the color on your cheeks.

“You're distracted too easily.” He looked serious for once, that glint of smugness had left his eyes for just a moment. “I win again.” And there it was again, that stupid smile of his. He dropped his sword and held out a hand to help you up. You let him pull you up, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Did you get what you wanted out of this fight?” You asked, and he nodded. “Much better than trying to teach the newbies not to drop their swords while fighting.”

“Good,” you turned to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist. “Same time tomorrow?”

You could’ve said no, could’ve walked away, could’ve done ANYTHING, but instead, you looked at him and said, “Sure thing.”

[theambitiouswoman]

Hiii sista...

So I'll be pretty straight now

Here in the work, I'm really obsessed over boys especially one guy heree( cause he been sweet o me🙄) but he been sweet as in for the work culture..I'm tho really admired him by now... I've really obsessed to such extent that I lost myself (ik why this is happening because I've been isolated myself for so many years due to many issues) now I think I'm hurting myself ,which I don't want to

I'm basically a person who always stay alone but then now you see😔😔????

Even some people say " you can't stay alone forever, you need someone "

I'm really confused because I have my own responsibilities to handle, I'll be asking myself these questions that " how can you distract, when you have so many responsibilities"" .....

Gurllll.... you're the only person on planet who gives me the best advice without hesitation which I'm always grateful...

Please help Mee..I'm already on tears while writing I can't stop myself crying then came here writting

Help me sister , I'm broke

Oh my goodness! No don't cry!

I think the real issue here is that you have been isolated for so long, and now you are exposed to a different reality and you have little control over your emotions. Now they are on overdrive. And this would honestly be a natural response, so that doesn't mean you are going crazy.

It's true that everyone desires companionship. I understand your feelings, especially after being isolated for so long. There are two things I want to talk about in response.

First, that guy at work might seem really impressive. But keep in mind, you've only just started working there and you don't really know much about him. Maybe you're drawn to his confidence or the way he speaks. Maybe he's different from people you've met before.

For starters, just because you were isolated it doesn't mean that you have dealt with your own emotions from the past, or healed. We can't run away from our issues, they will eventually resurface. Time doesn't really heal all wounds.

Remember, you don't "need" anyone. It's more about wanting companionship. Needing someone can feel like chasing after them. You're not desperate. You have standards and know what you want in a partner. Don't settle just because you're feeling lonely.

Another way of looking at this would be, do you think any person who has you acting out of character like this, all nervous and anxious.. do you think this is someone who has a positive affect on your life. Love is peace. Chemistry is dwindling and could even be a reaction based on how you know love, toxic or healthy, and your past experiences. The right person for you will inspire the best in you and ill die on that hill.

Take your time to heal from past experiences before jumping into a new relationship. Believe in yourself and remind yourself of your good qualities. Focus on things you enjoy doing and that make you happy outside of work.

Work towards your own personal goals and don't rush into a relationship just to fill a void. Take care of yourself by exercising, doing things you like, and spending time outdoors.

Imagine the kind of relationship you want in the future, and remember to be proud of your progress and growth. While finding a partner is important, it's even more important to build a strong relationship with yourself first.

Finally, you are not broken, you are simply building yourself into the person you have always wanted to be. We are not fixing our past self, we are turning ourselves into the dream version of ourself.

<3

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Shameless Smut Masterlist

Baby Pull Me Closer (ao3) - senioritastyles luke/calum E, 2k

Summary: In one of the short pauses between his punches Calum feels a tap on his shoulder and it breaks his concentration, making him turn around and pull his headphones out when he sees his boyfriend standing there. "Well, hello. What's the occasion?" He wonders, referring to Luke's choice in attire.

The blonde is clad tight short shorts, the black cotton ones that look straight out of an American Apparel ad, and a loose, but shorter than his normal, shirt. "Just came to see if I could motivate you since I know you've been wanting to push yourself harder when you workout."

Or: Luke distracts Calum from his workout.

Bare (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance calum/ashton E, 2k

Summary: When Calum made that bet with Ashton, he did not know he was gonna lose, which meant he had to do anything Ashton wanted. At first it was alright but after five days, his frustration got the best of him. Calum wanted revenge. If Ashton wanted a bare Calum, he was going to get a bare Calum.

Confession (ao3) - DarkGnome luke/ashton E, 1k

Summary: Luke is a devout Catholic. Sundays are his day where he demonstrates his faith and puts distance between him and his boyfriend. However, Ashton isn’t a fan of the word no.

_______

Or the one who Ashton shows up at church and fucks Luke in a confessional booth.

Daisy (ao3) - boomerluke luke/ashton M, 121k

Summary: The last thing Luke expects when he wakes up hungover in the bed of his latest one-night stand is to come face to face with a freaking kid. But there she is all wild curls, thumb-sucking, and nonstop questions. Luke can't get out of there fast enough.

Ashton isn't the type to have one-night stands. He's a parent, after all. It was a mistake, and it won't happen again. At least that's what he tells himself when he comes back from his shower to find the naked college kid still in his bed, arguing with Daisy.

They couldn't be more opposites. At 25, Ashton has the responsibilities of two parents, raising his daughter and trying to pretend like he has everything figured out. At 21, Luke is a self-proclaimed Grindr god who doesn't care about anyone or anything but himself. So why is the universe (with the help of Michael and Crystal) so hell-bent on seeing them together?

five stars every time that you come through (ao3) - tutorgirl luke/ashton E, 6k

Summary: date night is a tradition in their relationship that ashton takes very seriously.

Green Light (ao3) - SpencerKnight OT4 E, 181k

Summary: Class is an age old concept--almost as old as the concept of human slavery, and in a world where buying humans is a standard behavior by those who can afford it, Luke's only hope as a member of the lower class is that he falls into the hands of a decent buyer--the hands of Ashton Irwin and his partners. Luke knows he has one chance to please his buyers or he risks getting put back on the market, but he's thrown for a loop when Ashton admits that Luke is the one that gets to call the shots. In an attempt to find security with the trio, Luke braces himself and gives them the green light to do whatever they want with him.

He had no idea they would refuse.

(This isn't a slavery au in the way that you think it is.)

He's A Go-Getter, He's Everybody's Type (ao3) - senioritastyles michael/luke E, 2k

Summary: "Lukey, if you get up right now," He starts, reaching his hand down under the covers and rubbing his hand over the swell of Luke's ass, "I promise I'll eat you out and fuck you later."

Luke's eyes pop open and he turns his head backward toward Michael. "You promise?"

Or: Michael convinces Luke to get out of bed.

Howdy, Partner - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) calum/ashton, michael/luke E, 7k

Summary: When Ashton slipped on that tasseled jacket and those boots, he fucking knew what he was doing.

When he strolled into the party with a bright dimpled grin, put two long fingers on the brim of his hat and tipped it to Calum with a gruff, “Howdy, partner,” he’d known full fucking well what he was doing.

If Walls Could Talk (ao3) - boomerluke luke/ashton, ashton/ofc M, 43k

Summary: The last thing Ashton ever wanted to do was hurt Luke, but he couldn't help it. The singer was just so beautiful, so ethereal and otherworldly that it took his breath away most of the time. Everyone felt that way about their best friend though, right? It was normal. No use getting unnecessary feelings involved, it was better this way. Luke understood.

Luke wasn't sure when this thing between him and Ashton started, or how it started, but it didn't matter. He was in too deep to go back now. So Luke would let Ashton use him, hurt his feelings and crawl back with apologies. Because at the end of the day, even when Luke had to watch Ashton leave the bar with a new pretty blonde each night, he knew the drummer would eventually end up back in his bed. And Luke told himself he was okay with that.

i want you to want me this way (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton T, 6k

Summary: Luke just wants to show Ashton how pretty he looks. Ashton wants to ruin him.

Kiss Me On The Battlefield, Show Me What It's Like To Feel (ao3) - senioritastyles luke/calum E, 3k

Summary: Luke was in temporary heaven, knowing the small moment of tenderness with Calum would never last but he was content for the moment. Calum had graciously given him what he wanted and removed the cock cage, leaving the ring around the base that was meant to keep Luke hard, and he'd even gone so far as to use his perfect hands and jerk Luke off very slowly so as not to overexcite him too fast. Luke was the personification of blissed out, lying on his back on the couch with Calum next to him, just this side of breathless at the feeling of being touched after so long without it.

Or: Calum plays with Luke.

Maelstrom (ao3) - merlypops luke/ashton, michael/calum E, 225k

Summary: Ashton is struggling, Luke is hiding, and Michael and Calum just want to make things work. (And maybe Ashton and Luke fall in love too. Maybe.)

Step Into Your Skin? I'd Rather Jump In Your Bones (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton E, 4k

Summary: He liked to call Ashton "daddy" quite a bit when they were alone, and not just in bed. He liked to call him that when he was feeling a bit smaller and more vulnerable, and Ashton liked when Luke called him that. He loved taking care of his baby, he loved taking control.

sucker for the way that you move, babe (ao3) - merlypops luke/ashton E, 2k

Summary: “C'mon, baby boy,” Luke whispered, leaning down to bite gently on the older man's ear lobe as he fisted Ashton's throbbing cock, drawing a desperate whine from him. “Gonna cum on my cock, Ashy? Gonna cum from daddy fucking you open and making you moan loud enough for everyone to hear you?”

Luke looks after Ashton better than anyone ever has and they can't get enough of each other.

Taking His Time On His Ride (ao3) - IfWallsCouldMuke michael/luke E, 4k

Summary: Michael is the heir to the Clifford Enterprise.

We Were In Screaming Colour (ao3) - antisocialhood luke/ashton N/R, 3k

Summary: He was sharp blue eyes and an impeccable quiff, pale skin -the colour of a peach not yet ripe- and long limbs.

He was quirked eyebrows and teeth marks bitten into plump bottom lips, white socks with dirty soles and dimpled cheeks

~~~

Purple hued bruises were sat at the junction of Luke throat and collarbones, scattered themselves across his shoulders and resided on his thighs, fading and splotched.

It was ownership.

You Gon' Have To Do It At My Tempo (ao3) - senioritastyles luke/everyone, michael/calum, michael/ashton, calum/ashton E, 4k

Summary: "Why don't you have another competition?" He suggests, his voice small and unsure.

The boys seem caught off guard by that, all glancing at each other in a silent conversation before Calum bites his lip and looks back at Luke. "Alright, what kind of competition did you want this time then?"

Luke's surprised that they're going with his idea, so he needs another second to think before he's got another decent idea that mostly benefits him and his neglected dick. "Why not like, a blowjob competition?" The boys look confused now, their heads tilted to the side like puppies, so Luke explains. "Like, you get a minute to blow me and whoever does the best gets to touch me first."

Or: The boys have a competition to see who gets to touch Luke first.

You Got My Permission To Do What You Like (ao3) - senioritastyles OT4 E, 3k

Summary: "Ashy, you haven't stopped working since we came home." Luke mutters from his place near Ashton's head, tugging gently on the oldest boy's curls. "You never spend any time with us anymore and you're running yourself into the ground here."

"Yeah, babe when was the last time you weren't alone down here working on a song?" Calum wonders, although his tone says he already knows the answer and that Ashton really isn't supposed to say anything.

Michael sighs loudly and stands up. "You're coming with us right now and we are going to force you to relax."

Or: The boys help Ashton relax.

[aspiratinganxiety]

Happy Birthday, Darlin’

Happy 20th, Sweetheart. 

Sleepy drabble with an inexperienced 20 year old Jason Todd. ‘Nuff said, right? 

Super Fluff reader insert fic. 

Enjoy!

The lamp in the second story window of your home is lit. The buttery glow of the little antique seems to reach out through the dreary October morning and burrow down into his chest. Heat kindles in the tender spot, and he smiles to himself as a swell of joy rushes through him. He’s dizzy with it, tickled to feel that a flush of warmth has made his cold skin prickle all the way from his head to his toes.

You left the light on for him. It is an assent to his presence. When you want uninterrupted sleep or space, you switch your lamp off. The two of you settled on this method of indication after your roommates began lodging complaints about the odd hours Jason came knocking. Because he sticks to a relatively nocturnal schedule, early AM visitation is his most common time-frame. So early, actually, that it could still be considered extremely late from the night before.

When the lamp in your window is on, he easily scales the ramshackle siding of the 3-bedroom you share with 5 people and slides in through the unlocked framework. It’s tricky for him to do so quietly this morning. He’s eager, and the chill air is thick with the kind of moisture that doesn’t have the altitude to be rain, nor the commitment to become a proper embankment of dense Gotham fog. He slips twice, and knocks himself a good one in the shoulder against the gutter as he struggles to keep his boots in place on the slick shingles of the overhang beneath your window. He makes it though, stripping off his muddy boots and heavy jacket so as not to trail any mess and mindful not to break the delicate reading light that acts as a literal beacon of consent which allows him such liberties as creeping into your bedroom.

The swollen, fond feeling inside of him redoubles when his eyes fall on you. He is still for a moment, gaze wandering from the nip in your waist up over the soft curve of your hip. He always takes a few seconds to admire you as you sleep. To have the intimate space of your bedroom offered to him, to be so trusted as to be welcomed into such a space while you are unconscious...

Every time, he relishes the opportunity to enjoy the faith and consideration that you extend to him by allowing these ludicrous early visits. 

You always sleep half-curled on your side. Even swathed in a full comforter and an additional plush throw blanket, he can still make out parts of your figure which he admires. As he approaches your bedside, he reaches back into the pocket of his jeans, retrieving the present he’s carried with him all night through patrol. 

You stir before he moves to wake you, and so he forgoes gently climbing into bed. He drops his weight behind you, pulling you back against him. The blankets unravel as he weasels his free hand beneath them to rub up and down your side. He nuzzles his face into your hair and hums a low, wordless greeting while you draw in a few loud, lazy lungfuls of air. 

“Mmph,” you groan, tongue clumsy from sleep. It is a whiny, inarticulate sound, and it takes you a while to gather enough of your mind to form words. “Your hands are cold,” you say, flipping some of the blankets back over him. “So is your nose.”

You thread your fingers through his, dragging his hand up over your chest and tucking it beneath your chin. Doing so effectively tightens his arm around your middle, and you snuggle back toward him with a sweet, drowsy lack of inhibition. Every part of him is cold, you realize. Sort of damp too, at least his hair and his cargo pants. You nestle down against the hand at your throat, worried that he might get sick but too tired to verbally fuss. 

Jason procrastinates until you doze off again, soaking in your easy warmth and affection while his other hand reflexively tightens in a pattern over your gift. He’s got it under your pillow now, having unthinkingly helped pose the both of you into your common shared sleeping arrangement. Nervous energy keeps him from resting as the doubts he’s had all week about his gift selection begin to plague his mind with a keener ferocity, now that the time to actually give it to you is here. 

“Babe,” he whispers just above your ear. “Baby?” He gives you a firm squeeze before beginning to jostle you back and forth between his arm and torso. “Wake up, okay? I’ve got something for you.”

You take another one of your deep breaths, face scrunching into a malcontent contortion. “M’wake,” you mumble, clearly not. 

He gives an airy chuckle, pressing a firm kiss to your temple before hauling the both of you upright. You hiss, fighting to remain within the toasty, comforting blankets. When you’re good and vertical with at least one eye peeped open, Jason maneuvers so as to be directly in front of you. 

“Hey,” he grins, feeling suddenly foolish and a bit shy. You don’t look particularly happy, and he wonders if he should have allowed you to sleep. It’s your day, after all. 

You respond simply, clearly somewhat confused. “Hey?” 

Your voice is tender and soft, having worked through the gravelly portion of misuse and developed into a delicate, almost musical murmur. The sound gives him pause, and he goes back in to press another kiss to your hot, flushed cheek. He stays close for a moment, embracing you with only his nearness and not with his arms. When he leans back down on his haunches, he extends the bundle in his hand. 

“I wanted to be the first to tell you and, ya’ know, the first one to give you a present.” You’re really smiling now, both beautiful eyes wide and sparkling in the warm lambency from the little lamp in the corner. “It’s like... four o’clock in the morning, so I’m pretty sure I get to be the first one who says it.” He grips your chin with the fingertips of one hand, tilting your face up and planting a proper kiss over your lips, heedless of morning breath. “Happy Birthday, Darlin’.”

He says this while your noses are still touching, eye to eye and smiling like the devil on a stormy Sunday morning. You go sheepish looking at him when he makes faces like that, with his eyes so bright and his teeth flashing all white and sharp in just the right places. Demurring, all too aware of the stale heat emanating from your tongue and suddenly quite nervous about something like morning breath, you drop your head and set the crest of your cheek gently against his jaw before moving back.

“Thank you, baby,” you mumble, leaning back against your headboard and plucking at the plain, hearty paper and butcher’s twine he used to wrap your present. “You’re definitely the first one to wish me a happy birthday on my actual birthday, for sure.”

It is a book, as you thought it’d be. This one is a well-worn paperback that looks to be of a scholastic persuasion. It’s cover is creased and torn, baring a wild artistic image that you recognize as an engraving of William Blake. Your head cocks to the side as you gently look the battered work over for a title. It’s on the spine, and you shoot Jason a curious look when you can’t quite make out what it says because of the deterioration and damage done by copious readings. 

“Blake?” you question, wondering what in the world you were supposed to do with this gift.

Jason beams, practically puffing his chest he’s so proud that you recognized the artwork on the cover. “Yeah!” 

“Uh, I don’t know much about Blake,” you confess, turning the book back and forth in your palms. “I mostly know his art and, well, the tiger poem.” 

“Yeah..." he says, enthusiasm completely wilted. His sentences become halting as the room fills with the combined discomfort and awkward confusion of both you and your boyfriend. “I uh, I was kinda’ hoping you didn’t know much about him. He’s one of my favorites. Of the romantics, anyway. Really more like a proto-romantic. And he's not like my favorite, favorite author. Just a good one. Sorta’. He’s weird.” 

Silence grows as you try to process your reaction to the gift. It is very early, mostly the middle of the night, after all. You’re not entirely sure what you think of it. You are grateful though, grateful that he thought of you and that he was so excited to wish you a happy birthday. 

You catch his eye, and hug the book to your chest with a small smile. “Thank you,” you say, leaning forward a bit and deepening your expression so as to properly communicate your gratitude.

He nods, still obviously disappointed and perturbed. Just as you are about to reach forward to offer him a comforting touch, he extends his hand and gestures for the book. With only a bit of hesitation, you relinquish it back to him.

“This uh, this was the first book that Alfred bought for me after I moved into the manner.”

“Oh!” you say, his context suddenly tripling your interest in the paperback.

Jason rarely spoke about his past. You knew a rough outline of everything that had gone on, but certainly no details. 

He doesn’t look up at you, cracking the book open and petting some of the pages with the gentlest brush of his fingertips. “Yeah. Alfred and sometimes, well actually, pretty often Bruce too... they’d read me poems from this book. I made them read it over and over again. Always a poem from The Songs of Innocence and then they’d flip all the way back to the back and find the corresponding work to the first poem in The Songs of Experience. I hated it when they didn’t read one right after the other, even though the collections were published separately. I felt like they were skipping a chapter or something if the poems weren’t read together.”

You don’t know if it’s the somewhat stunned expression on your face or the silence that presses him to explain, but you are enchanted as he continues on.

“Like ‘The Tyger’ for example, it has a companion poem called ‘The Lamb.' They were written to contextualize one another and question... well God, basically. Intelligent design. ‘The Lamb’ focuses on purity, childhood innocence, and guileless trust in the watchful design of God. ‘The Tyger’ though, the one from The Songs of Experience, it details the hitches and complications in believing that the same God from ‘The Lamb’ would create such good, delicate, innocent creatures and then force them to live in the same world as monsters and fear and man-eaters.” 

“Wow.” You give the book another sly glance as it rests in his hands, feeling that you perhaps underestimated the contents and, certainly, that you underestimated the emotional connection Jason has to it. 

He chuckles again, humorlessly this time, still not looking at you. “Yeah. I stole it out of Bruce’s penthouse over a year ago. He um- he had a bunch of stuff from when I was a kid moved there after... what happened.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but your eyes find a way to go even wider. Jason never, never talks to you about that.

Never.

You learned about it from Tim. And the newspaper, of course.

Jason wants to shove the book down his throat. This is the first birthday in your relationship, and he ruined it with a dumb gift because he’s a dumb idiot. When he saw your face, looking down at the stupid freaking poetry book with zero surprise or delight, it’s like he started word vomiting. He can’t get it to quit, and he can’t look at you while this comes out of his mouth. 

“I thought he moved it there to, I dunno’, forget about me? Keep me off of his mind. Dick told me though,” Jason pauses to take a deep breath, obviously getting overwhelmed. “He told me a while after I broke in and saw so much of my stuff in there that Bruce had uh- he’d gotten real mean after. That he couldn’t be around anyone. Not even Alfred. He moved out of the manor with my things, and he kept them at the penthouse to visit them or something, I guess? It was a weird explanation. This is all weird. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten you a newer copy or maybe just-”

“No!” You lurch forward, snatching the book out of his hand and wrapping your arms around him. “No,” you say more calmly, touched beyond belief that he would give you what amounted to a piece of himself as a gift. 

“I love it. It’s perfect, and I love it.” 

He puts his weight behind the hug, folding around you and squeezing so firmly that your breath is short. “I love you,” he grumbles into your hair, still unhappy with himself for derailing this gesture so thoroughly. 

“I love you too,” you say, tapping at his elbow as a request for him to lighten his hold. He does, and you lean back with an infectious, dazzling smile. You hold the book up, eager and no longer self-conscious or sleepy. “Will you read me some of the poems?”

“Uh,” his face goes bright red, the blush running all the way to the tips of his ears. “I don’t really know how well I can read aloud, babe. But, I mean, it’s your birthday. If you want to pick a few, I’ll give it a try.”

With a giddy nod, you flip open the book to find an inscription in red ink on the title page: 

Happy 20th Birthday, my Sunny Girl!

This book is full of one man’s ideas about life, beauty, and the things that he thought were worth protecting. 

None of them are half as beautiful or worthy as you. 

Love, J.                                                              

[toadallytadpole]

My Personal Stardew Valley Ship Headcannons

Farmer Cricket (me) x Shane

Farmer Cricket [AFAB He/They] slowly befriends Shane [AMAB He/Him] and helps him with his mental health recovery, and I cannot help but fall in love with his chicken-loving self… especially because I also struggle immensely with my mental health and adore chicken friends… but I also admire Shane’s willingness to finally accept he needs help and how he’s willing to improve himself not only for others like Jas but also just himself!!! He deserves content and happy feelings!!

Sam x Sebastian

Sam [AMAB He/They] and Sebastian [AMAB They/Them] are kinda obvious to me cuz like… they spend so much time together and are so close!!! Not that all close relationships are inherently romantic, but I just very much see them as being in love… Sam is the softdom extrovert bf and Seb is the sub leaning switch introvert to me :^3

Maru x Abigail

Maru [AMAB She/They] secretly had a crush on Abigail [AFAB She/They] the more she got to know Abigail through Sebastian! Abigail was slightly more hesitant towards developing a relationship with Maru as they didn’t want to upset Seb in any way, but Seb is secretly super supportive of it (despite the fake grossed out looks he gives them whenever they’re affectionate lol)… they bond when Maru is invited to play their games together with Seb and Sam, and they also both enjoy the night sky (which leads to many many summer stargazing dates where Abigail plays her flute for Maru and Maru explains the different constellations for Abigail)

Sandy x Emily

Sandy [AMAB She/They] and Emily [AFAB They/Them] start their friendship as penpals, but as they get closer they develop romantic feelings and begin to be long distance partners! This ship is extremely obvious to me tbh and anyone that DOESNT ship them (unless you romance Emily yourself) is sus to me…

Leah x Haley

Leah [AFAB She/Her] and Haley [AFAB She/Her] are probably one people won’t understand right away, but let me explain… especially during the summers, Haley spends so much time in the forest near Leah’s house to work on her photography… similarly, Leah is outside working on her artwork as well, so they’re bound to interact in some way! And I believe they would totally find it admirable in each other with their dedication to their own type of art!! And I firmly believe that in this case, opposites attract as well as because they’re so different they would totally bring out the best in each other!! Leah softens Haley’s defensive walls with her friendliness and also encourage Haley to be more directly interactive with her nature relationship (especially regarding her photography), and Haley will completely encourage Leah to keep her standards in people as high as it should be, as well as encouraging Leah to find a beauty within herself that she’s not explored much before!!! Overall, I just see them as being so sweet together and I know they’d make an adorable couple!! (Also Alex, being Haley’s best friend, is so so supportive, cuz he knew Haley was a lesbian all along but never outed her in any way so the two refused to deny any accusations of them being together until Haley was ready to come out!!)

Penny x Alex (aka the token straight couple lol)

Penny [AFAB She/Her] doesn’t interact with Alex [AMAB He/Him] much other than just simple pleasantries from being neighbors… Evelyn and George encourage Alex to introduce himself better to Penny, and he does and finds that Penny is one of the sweetest people he’s ever met!!! Penny is obviously timid (especially around him at first), but the more they get to know each other, the more they find amazing qualities in each other!! Penny admires Alex’s determined attitude towards succeeding in life despite his struggles, and Alex admires Penny’s dedication towards giving the kids of the town a better chance in life through love, support, and education! They also (unfortunately) bond over having an abusive/alcoholic parent (Pam sympathizers GET OUT!!! Abusive parenting is not excusable!!!)… they help each other process their childhood trauma and learn to respect their own boundaries and needs with encouragement from each other!!!

Marnie x Marlon

Marnie [AFAB She/Her] finally allows herself to dump loser Lewis (he doesn’t deserve the gem that Marnie is cuz he only wanted to hide their relationship and Marnie deserves someone that is immensely proud to be her partner!!!) and spends some time single to reflect on what she wants in love… during the following Festivals in the town, she interacts with Marlon [AFAB He/Him] more and the two hit it off!! Marlon is extremely affectionate and treats Marnie like a goddess!!! Marnie appreciates the affection and equally develops a love for him! Marnie encourages Marlon to interact with the townspeople more often and eventually they spend time together in the Saloon every Friday night!! Marlon acts as a wonderful father figure towards Jas (and even Shane), and Marnie adores his caring nature!!

Harvey x Elliott

Harvey [AMAB He/Him] doesn’t think much about Elliott [AMAB He/Him], as they aren’t usually in the same areas of town at the same time… but Harvey sometimes likes to visit the beach to relax his always speedy mind by listening to the ocean waves! There he interacts with Elliott more and more, but doesn’t think much of their brief friendship… but Elliott, being the poetic hopeless romantic he is, sees the potential in them and decides to write a lovely letter to Harvey inviting him on a date! Harvey is very much shocked by the sudden romantic interest and straightforwardness, but decides to take a chance and go! Elliott and Harvey eventually grow a strong relationship that is fueled by their natural passion in life (Harvey being passionate about helping people as well as piloting, and Elliott being passionate about his writing and environmental protection)!!!

Anyways, those were pretty much it for my headcannons regarding character relationships!! I included my brief headcannons for each character’s gender cuz I feel strongly about certain folks being trans >:3 (I am queer and trans myself btw)!!! But I also have specific headcannons for each character having a different race/ethnicity than the cannon “almost-every-character-is-white”, so if anyone is interested in that, I can post those sometime too!! I’m still working on finishing those headcannons, cuz I can’t decide if I wanna change their names in slight ways to better fit them… I want to but it might get confusing for anyone but me when talking about them lol😅 but I’m more than willing to explain!!!

I love that I’m getting back into Stardew Valley tho cuz I haven’t played in a long time and forgot how much I adore the game!!! Thank you current Stardew Valley hyperfixation lol (I’m diagnosed as having ADHD so that’s why I used that term btw!!)

[itsamiraculous]

Alya and Secrets

So I started making a post about Alya and secrets a little while back, but after Sentibubbler I put it off as I wasn’t sure, however after Rocketear I feel as if it still stands. 

Sentibubbler revealed to me that yes Alya can control things by herself, is loyal to Marinette and wouldn’t reveal her secret easily. I never wanted to insinuate that she ever would, but now after Rocketear, I feel as if my belief that Alya will make a mistake with the secrets department. Alya has told Nino about Rena Furtive when Marinette had firmly told her not to, knowing of Marinette’s fears and her position as Ladybug.

Alya decided to tell Nino everything because she doesn’t like keeping secrets from him, her relationship has never been like that. Her role as a journalist is to seek the truth as well. She is not comfortable with keeping secrets, and I don’t blame her for that, I think it’s actually very commendable. What I don’t agree with is that she has gone against Marinette. The repercussions could be dire, like what happened in Optygami, or it could cause a huge rift in their friendship. In Sentibubbler Marinette was afraid that all of her secrets would get out and that she would be betrayed by Alya. I believe that she will still have a “betrayal” by Alya (also by Chat, but that’s a different post). Then in Gang of Secrets she was afraid of telling Alya everything could change and potentially destroy their relationship.

Rocketear also highlighted again why Marinette keeps secrets. We see it breaking her relationships throughout this season; she is making sacrifices to those she cares about because of the role she takes on and the stakes as Ladybug and is breaking her and potentially all of her relationships, whether that be with family or other. 

Rest lies below the cut, this is a long post

Her responsibilities are keeping her away from happiness, with her family, from her friends, and has also broken her chances for romance with anyone. I don’t think that is a coincidence that her family was brought forward and the fact of Marinette’s need/want to keep secrets will be tested with Alya. Marinette’s vehemence of keeping her identity a secret is also influenced by the events of Chat Blanc

Speaking of Chat Blanc, within this episode Bunnix explains briefly why she was chosen to be the bearer of the Rabbit miraculous and it was because she knows how to keep a secret. Alya has constantly been surrounded by the challenges of being Trustworthy. Key episodes this season being Sentibubbler, Gang of Secrets, Optygami and now Rocketear.

I feel as if this has much more weight on it now after everything that has happened in this season so far.

Previously Alya has been shown how trustworthy she can or can’t be. In Puppeteer 2, Alya insists she didn't tell Nino about Marinette’s crush on Adrien when she clearly had. 

She clearly did tell Nino, or accidentally told him because otherwise there wouldn’t be the narrative of Alya and Nino trying to get Adrien and Marinette alone together etc.

I do trust Alya, but she has a recurring theme where there is too much emphasis on the word trustworthy which insinuates that this is a challenge for her character. 

Alya can als be quite pushy. Like in Sapotis when she got too swept up, and Trixx planted the notion of becoming a permanent miraculous holder, but he was also the one to help her realise to prove herself trustworthy. Trixx and Alya can also be very hard to say no to, they have a persuasive attitude, but it can also make people realise things.

Alya can be very pushy when she gets swept up in “helping” Marinette get close to Adrien. Reflekdoll and Gigantitan always have rubbed me the wrong way with Alya’s role. In Gigantitan, Marinette wanted to help that woman up the stairs who had baby August in the stroller, Alya insisted for Marinette to stay, until the woman was really struggling and Marinette just went, and even then Alya was in her ear saying to hurry up as Adrien was coming.

If Alya just let Marinette be everything would have been fine. In all actuality, if Adrien saw Marinette he would probably help and it would start a lovely, genuine conversation considering he also wanted to help, but couldn’t. It’s in their blood to help. Both Marinette and Adrien earnt the miraculous because they were the only ones around who cared enough to help people. 

In Reflekdoll it was both the fault of Marinette and Alya that Juleka went in on herself. Marinette didn’t allow Juleka to speak as she bombarded her with questions. Alya was pushing because of the time crunch and pushed Marinette and Adrien together, she had completely overlooked Juleka’s feelings as well. Marinette didn’t completely get blinded as she did try to double check that Juleka was alright. 

Alya can just be impulsive sometimes. Most of the time when she is told to stop, like in Sapotis when Marinette tells her to slow down in trying to find out Ladybugs identity, and then when Ladybug tells her she can’t tell anyone, Alya complies.

Being impulsive is what Alya has in common with Chat Noir with his self-sacrificial tendencies and emotions clouding judgement.

She is aware of getting ahead of herself anyways

Alya and Marinette are both making mistakes. Alya made a huge one in Optygami because her judgement is impared due to her emotions towards Nino. Marinette has made and is making a lot of mistakes. The huge ones are those which take time to surface, like what happened with Chloe and what is happening with Chat Noir. Marinette decided to reward Alya by giving her the miraculous permanently. I don't think she should have done that, at least not yet. It's a huge risk on top of another. Marinette knew from the beginning that Hawkmoth knew who the holders were, yet still decided to give them out to the same people, however with Chloe it was totally different. She should have been open with her in the first place. 

Marinette has also always been super lenient with Alya as well, first with allowing Nino and Alya knowing their alter egos (although Alya knew of Nino in the first place), but again a huge risk really, as we saw in Catalyst, they got distracted, and their emotions getting themselves turned into scarlet. 

Although, I do understand that there was a time crunch.

Marinette often has a double-standard and bias when it comes to Alya. For instance, in Style Queen Marinette was going to give the Bee miraculous to Alya as well. 

Why!??? When Alya already had been using the Fox Miraculous. Ladybug’s decision to constantly not tell Chloe is what led to Miracle Queen. It was not fair. Sorry, there is no way I can really excuse that. She was so blind-sided by judgement in that decision.

However that has equally been counteracted by proving she is trustworthy, that she is loyal and also looks for the facts. Alya can also be level-headed like the approach of finding out who was framing Marinette in Ladybug. 

She has been a big help for Marinette as well, as we see in Mr. Pigeon 72.

She was a miracle in Sentibubbler as well! As she kept her cool and thought ahead. She still made a couple of mistakes like telling Chat Noir it’s a two person operation etc. Not her fault though. Nothing said in that moment would have helped.

Alya is definitely a huge asset for Marinette to have, by running ideas and taking some of the pressure off of her shoulders and ultimately being able to think for herself.

It all comes back to Bunnix in Chat Blanc as well saying she can keep a secret, so I fear what is to come. Alix has constantly been the one shown to have a rational head. Reverser being the big one, but also the little comments when with the girls like in Gang of Secrets and Gigantitan. 

I have a feeling that Marinette’s leniency with Alya may end up being a mistake. I do think it’s good some of her weight has been lifted, but now it seems she is being a little arbitrary. Alya we know has a huge target on her back. She may have saved herself in Sentibubbler, but now she has told Nino everything, against the wishes of Marinette. Although, Marinette says that she does trust Alya when Alya fixes things at the end of Rocketear.

I think Alya makes this decision as she is firm in her belief that secrets shouldn’t be kept when it comes to loved ones, especially those who are meant to be your partner (best friend, boyfriend/girlfriend). I also wonder whether this decision to tell Nino was also influenced because Marinette was easy on her after what happened in Optygami, thinking Marinette wouldn’t mind. Plus she got around it all in Puppeteer 2.

Marinette is actively going against her own beliefs (and what she was told by Master Fu) by utilising the same miraculous holders. I understand that she is the new guardian and she is making her own rules, but she also saw sense in keeping things secret, because of her own identity, and how she refuses to allow Chat Noir to know who the holders are as well. It is way too risky, whatever Marinette is up to. She is not allowing Chat Noir his right to know as much as she does; they are meant to be partners, but it doesn’t feel like that. That is all due to her fear of Chat Blanc and its events. She is now heavily reliant on Alya/ Rena Rouge. That is going to cause a huge rift once Chat becomes wise to their dynamic as we are seeing blatantly now in Rocketear. 

What happens if Alya slips up again and it’s huge this time. What is the secret that Bunnix is referring to that makes Ladybug/Marinette realise that she is the one to be trusted with the Rabbit miraculous? When will that be? Will Marinette have a falling out with Alya after finding out that Alya told Nino that she was still working as covert Rena?

I think what Marinette has decided was untimely. These kids shouldn’t be dealing with this, but they are. They are feeling way too much and are still trying to learn about themselves. It is not fair. They are bound to make decisions. I just have this unsettled feeling that there is too much concentration around this topic to overlook. I don’t think that Marinette is going to be best pleased when she finds out that Alya has told Nino everything, especially after all that she has sacrificed with Luka and Adrien and as Rocketear stated about her family again. I think the pressure will get to her again.

[arhvste]

001 MIYA ATSUMU X SHUT UP AND DRIVE SERIES

++ MSBY GARAGE

❝ i've been looking for a driver who is qualified, so if you think that you're the one step into my ride ❞

dt — @rintaroll

“so, what’s it gonna take for ya to praise me a little more?”

you rolled your eyes and huffed, brushing the setters hand off your shoulder.

“shouldn’t you be more concerned about, oh i don’t know, your fans, interviews, your teammates?!” you snapped back as atsumu held both his hands up in defence.

the crowd was loud and still bustling as the black jackals most recent victory continued to stir excitement through the mass of spectators in the high stands. fans were still yelling and chanting as interviewers scrambled to grab the attention of any player they could. multiple had pried for atsumu in fact, alas, all his attention was solely focused on none other than his teams promotional manager; you.

you were chatting to the teams photographer and uploading updates and playbacks onto the teams twitter at the time the blond had bounded his way over to you and here you were, faced with the famous setter leaning on the advertisement boards lining the court diving you from him.

“miya,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shook your head. “go and talk to some interviewers and get yourself back over to the others, i’m begging you at this point.”

“beggin’ huh?” a boyish smirk tugged at his lips and his eyes stayed locked on your own.

“not in the way your disgusting little mind is thinking of.” you shot back, stepping back from the board and looking back down at your phone where the teams twitter was currently blowing up.

atsumu snickered before standing up straight.

“whatever ya say doll, just hold up a little longer and i’m all yours again yeah?”

you scoffed and shook your head at him before shooing him away.

“i’d prefer you weren’t.”

“lyin’s a bad habit.”

“would you just go already?”

atsumu laughed as he turned to make his way back to the rest of his awaiting team. waving a hand back at you, he turned to face you before shooting a wink your way as interviewers and photographers flooded the scene.

this was a typical exchange of interaction between the two of you. ever since you had been introduced to the team as their promotional manager, atsumu had fixated his interest outside of volleyball onto you. 7 months later and nothing had changed despite his never faltering persistence.

you sighed as the photographer laughed softly before turning to his own laptop to import more photos for you to upload.

“he seems to have a soft spot for you.”

you groaned and switched your phone off, leaning back on the advertisement boards atsumu himself was previously leaning against.

“he’s such a handful.” you stated as the photographer chuckled.

“looks like he wants to be one for you though.”

“i wish he didn’t” you muttered back as the photographer smiled earnestly at you.

“i think we both know that’s a lie, we’ve been working together for a while and i don't think this dread to spend time with him is as evident as you make it out.”

you whined as you sent a soft frown his way.

“trust me, it is.”

“whatever you say.” the man teased back before clicking on the last images to send your way.

thanking him and making your way over to the teams manager and coach, you stood beside them in front of the msby boys and watched them as outlet interviewers shot questions their way.

multiple flashes went off every few seconds as each player flashed a handsome smile to the camera. you scanned over the team and bokuto was excitedly chatting and laughing with the interviewers. you smiled softly to yourself as you let your eyes wander from bokuto over to sakusa who was trying his best to avoid contact with his sweaty teammates and ‘annoying’ interviewers. it was clear he wasn’t as thrilled to be there as the others so you sent an apologetic look his way and mouthed to him he only had to put up for roughly 10 minutes more. he silently wallowed in self pity at that, but that quickly turned to agitation as atsumu dominated your vision.

slinging an arm over sakusa, (much to the latters disgust), atsumu grinned at you and flashed a smirk for a brief second before turning back to give the cameras a toothy grin.

your face dropped back into a frown as atsumu feigned hurt from a distance.

the team manager laughed as she elbowed you gently.

“interviewers might have a little more luck keeping him focused if you were the one interviewing him.”

you raised an eyebrow as you turned to face her.

“he’s like a puppy.” you stated bluntly as the manager laughed.

“a lovesick puppy.” she corrected as you faked a gag.

“why you all think he’s head over heels for me is way beyond me.”

the manager smiled before nudging for you to look at the attractive setter.

“because it's obvious. you break the boys heart every week.”

you watched as atsumu happily chatted to interviewers and forced sakusa to begrudgingly pose for photos and join in with him.

“he’s not my type.” you said as your eyes stayed focused on the blond.

“right.” the manager teased before smiling over at the team's captain, meian, her own boyfriend.

you smiled at the pair’s interaction as the team dispersed after thanking interviewers and fans for their support.

meian wandered over to the manager who happily placed a kiss to her cheek before guiding her off towards the back of the stadium, hand lingering on the small on her back.

you sighed as your own thoughts invaded your headspace. it wasn’t that you didn’t want a boyfriend. you just hadn’t met anyone worth the time yet.

well, that was your go to excuse to tell everyone anyway. the truth was, you didn't even know the limits to your own standards, you just knew they were high when looking for a potential partner.

the feeling of a heavy arm slung over your shoulder forced you back into reality as your eyes flickered up in surprise.

“miss me?” the hot breath and familiar voice teased the shell of your ear as you scowled.

“you wish.” you snapped back as you attempted to duck out of your offender's grip.

“ah-ah, yer coming home with me today.” atsumu smirked confidently as you hissed at him to get off.

“says who?” you argued as the setter looked down at you smugly.

“me.” another voice joined the conversation as you turned to face the owner of it.

your eyes met the coach who was looking at you slightly sympathetically.

“huh?”

“sorry,” the coach began, hand holding the back of his neck. “i know i said i’d take you home, but my wife has some errands she needs me to pick up before getting home and i’d hate to have to drag you along with me this late at night.”

you groaned but nodded understandably.

“luckily, atsumu here was kind enough to offer to be your ride back home.”

“lucky me.” your voice dripping with thick sarcasm as atsumu ignored it.

“yeah, lucky you indeed. do ya know how many girls would kill to be in yer position right now?” atsumu teased, arm still firmly made at home around your shoulders.

“let them kill me.” you glared at him as he gasped playfully.

“ya don’t mean that.”

“i do.”

“you don’t.”

“just take me home already i’m tired!” you threw your arms up as atsumu grinned.

“sure, give me a few minutes to grab my stuff and i’ll meet you round the back of the building, yeah?”

“whatever.”

you made your way towards the back exit of the stadium and were met with other members of support for the team who were waiting for the boys to grab their things from the locker rooms. some players opted to shower after matches while others waited til they got back home. atsumu fell into the category of players who waited until they got home. this was both a blessing and a curse. you wouldn’t have to wait for him for too long, but you would be met with a sweaty atsumu.

this wasn’t technically a bad thing, atsumu had a habit of getting rid of the smell after each match with an expensive cologne you’d never even attempt to pronounce, but he happened to somehow be a little more attractive when he looked worn out and disheveled. you hated yourself for thinking such a thing but you just couldn’t help it. he was annoyingly attractive and it made his personality a little more dislikable in your opinion.

you waited for around 10 minutes before you were met with boisterous laughter ringing through the spacious lounge by the exit.

atsumu and bokuto came striding out from the hall directing towards the locker rooms, gym bags in their hands and ruggish hair that would need taming again eventually.

you sighed as you waited for atsumu to approach you. he bid his goodbyes to everyone and sent a look at bokuto's way. the ace held a thumbs up at atsumu as the others in the lounge looked at each other giggling and smiling smugly.

you raised an eyebrow but shrugged it off as you felt a hand find its way on your waist.

“let’s get going then.” his voice strumming chords through your body as you shivered slightly.

atsumu led you out and down towards the underground garage used by players and staff members whilst at the stadium. you’d never actually seen atsumu’s car before so you had no idea what to be looking for, but atsumu’s hand remained firmly on your waist as he led you over to an array of expensive cars. mentally trying to guess what car belonged to the setter, atsumu watched with a small smirk etched on his face as your eyes scanned along each car. keys hooked around his finger, atsumu pressed the unlock button as your jaw dropped slightly.

of fucking course.

miya atsumu was the proud owner of a jet black 2021 chevrolet corvette with the number plate gracing it in all its glory ‘MIY4 13’.

you scoffed as atsumu’s smirk widened.

“so, ya gettin in or what?”

“into what? my one way invitation to death?”

atsumu snickered as he led you over to the passengers seat.

“i won’t kill ya, i promise.”

you looked back at him, handsome and sharp features making your eyes soften.”

“well, it’s not like i’ll be able to yell at you if you break that promise.”

“exactly.” atsumu grinned as you climbed into the luxury vehicle. the soft leather padding of the seats welcoming you as your weight shifted onto them.

you glanced around the interior as your eyes were met upon. various lit buttons caught your attention as a screen switched on as atsumu opened the drivers door. you were certain the car had way too many features but that’s what made it a luxury vehicle you guessed. the sleek black and red complimented interior was admired by you as atsumu watched your eyes dance around the car. his eyes softened as you visably relaxed a little more. your hand hooked across the firmly threaded seatbelt as you pulled it around you.

you looked at atsumu who’s smirk seemed to have faded. instead, a soft grin was painted across his face as he helped you click the belt securely in place.

“don’t kill me miya.”

“i’ll do my best.” he winked at you before pressing the start engine.

mentally chanting your last prayers, you accepted the position fate had put you in and did your best to stop the stirring of butterflies in your chest as atsumu placed his hand on the back of your headrest and pulled out.

well fuck.

as if he wasn’t attractive enough before, he sure as hell was now. your eyes widened and heart picked up it’s pace as the scent of atsumu’s signature cologne flooded your senses.

his sharp jaw and focused eyes, pointed in the direction of the rear window as he successfully pulled the car out the space. moving his hand back onto the wheel, atsumu turned to smirk at you as you gave him a pleading look. before you could open your mouth to speak, the setter slammed on the accelerator and the engines picked up its volume as your head was thrown back a little as the car sped out the garage exit.

“you little shit!” you cussed out as atsumu laughed as you sped onto the highway through the city.

“ya love the thrill don’t lie.”

“i’m not lying!” you protested as the flashes of bright lights flew past the window.

atsumu smiled as his right hand found its place on the middle of your thigh.

“miya!” you hissed as atsumu tilted his head momentarily your direction.

“ya can call me atsumu ya know?”

“i don’t want to!”

“for such a genuine person, yer so full of shit sometimes.”

you huffed as you gave up letting atsumu’s touch encourage the stir inside of you. you turned and glared out the window at the passing scene as atsumu hummed in satisfaction.

a few more moments of comfortable silence went by, nothing but the sounds of cars zooming past and the soft hum of atsumu’s own car’s engine.

you frowned and bit the corner of your lip as you peaked towards the blond whose eyes were fixed on the road.

“so,” you began, resulting in the player's eyes to flicker your way for a millisecond. “why are you so hooked on me?” you questioned.

you held your breath as you finally voiced the concern that had been playing on your mind for a while. you rarely had moments of privacy with the man despite his infatuation and demand to be around you.

“am i not allowed to be?” he challenged teasingly as he sqeezed your thigh slightly.

you wanted to force his grip off of you, you really did, but something about it felt so natural you just couldn't.

“miya.” you sighed and shook your head.

“atsumu.” he corrected as you turned to face him properly.

“look, you’re just my type. that’s all there is to it.” he replied simply,as if it was no big deal to him.

“and just what exactly is your type?” you quizzed as you pulled up at a traffic light.

slowing the car to stop for a while the light was red, atsumu turned his face to look at your own before he flashed that boyish grin you’d unknowingly grown rather fond of.

“you.”

and with that, the world threw you back into fast motion as the green light flashed, highlighting his face before he hit the acceleration again making your eyes widen.

“atsumu…” you sighed quietly as the adrenaline brought more life into his eyes.

it wasn’t that you hated atsumu. it wasn’t that at all. he was just someone you didn’t see yourself seriously with. someone so out there and demanding of the world. you had always envisioned yourself with someone a little more down to earth, someone with a stable job with a lowkey personal life, a person who took life at a comfortable pace. you had never seriously considered being with someone like miya atsumu. someone who demanded the world's attention, dominated every scene he was put in, who took life at the speed the highest the accelerator would go. someone so big, so bright. you never imagined someone like miya atsumu would take interest in someone like you. you were opposites stuck in an entanglement of professional lives.

out of every person in the world, the universe had decided miya atsumu would become the man who ticked the boxes to your unknown standards. you just hated to acknowledge it.

pulling off the highway, atsumu drove through the less busy roads as your apartment complex came into vision. half of you wanted the ride to be a little longer, but the other half of you couldn’t wait to lock yourself in your apartment away from the man who caused turmoil inside of you.

atsumu hummed as he pulled around the back of your complex. the roads were quiet and the soft lights of other buildings gleamed off the vehicle as the golden light flooded through the tinted glass of the windows, pulling attention to the boyish, but charming features of his face.

you sighed as he pulled the car to a stop and let the engine settle down. you stayed like that for a moment as the two of you sat there packed in the quiet parking lot.

“listen, I meant it, i really do like you.” he said as you studied his eyes for any signs of him being ingenuine; you couldn't find any.

your eyes softened as you leaned on the headboard.

“miy- atsumu.” you began quietly as his eyes admired your form. “it’s not that i don’t like you or anything, it's just- i don’t know if you’re my type.” you confessed as your heart hammered against your chest.

“well, you just called me by my first name, that’s gotta count for something right?”

you looked up at him and locked your eyes into his honest ones. you sat up and turned to face him as he took both of your hands into his.

“look, i get it, i’ve been annoying since day one-”

“-annoying is an understatement.” you cut in as atsumu playfully glared at you.

“rude. anyways as i was saying, i might’ve come across as a little too strong from the start, but there's just somethin’ about you. i just can’t seem to leave ya alone.” the blond confessed honestly as his warm, calloused hands held yours tightly.

“atsumu, i just don’t know.” you shook your head as he held onto your hands tightly. “i just don’t know what i’m looking for.”

“let me help ya find it in me then.” he pleaded softly, a small grin tugged at his lips.

you cast your eyes down to where your hands were being connected by him. the stir in your chest sped up as your heart was slamming against your chest at this point.

“atsumu i just-”

cutting you off, atsumu pulled your hands away from each other as he moved one up towards your jaw to cradle your face gently. dark golden eyes melting at the sight of you close up, atsumu pulled your face in closer to his and your heart just wouldn’t let you pull away. his lips finally met your own after what felt like an eternity and it was if yours were made to fit against his.

his hand moved towards the back of your neck as he encouraged you to move closer. you leaned closer letting your own hand find its way against atsumu’s broad chest.

the kiss deepened as you gave access to the setter’s tongue as he dominated your movements. small gasps and whines were heard in the silence of the parking lot as neither of you had it in your to pull away. atsumu’s hand was securely at the back of your neck with the other gripping your waist as you groaned at the slightly uncomfortable position.

pulling away, the two of you breathed heavily as you leaned back in the expensive leather seat as atsumu stared at you softly.

“what the fuck was that?”

“our first kiss as a couple.” atsumu teased but failed to stop the wide smile spread across his face.

“who said anything about being a couple?” you shot back as atsumu found your hand once more, lacing your fingers together tightly.

“your body language. you kissed back.”

“i-”

“msby setter miya atsumu as yer boyfriend, wow, arent’cha just the luckiest!”

you playfully hit his chest as he laughed.

“keep it up and that’ll be ex-boyfriend.”

atsumu’s eyes lit up as he grabbed your hand again and held it tightly.

“so ya admit it! i’m yer boyfriend!”

you giggled seeing how genuinely excited he was over it.

“for now.” you hummed as he pouted slightly.

you cupped his jaw and leaned to press a soft kiss to his cheek causing heat to rise to his face.

“let’s just, take this slow though okay?”

“don’t tell me that while sittin’ in this car.” he joked as you groaned against him.

you leaned back looking back into his bright eyes as his gaze softened.

“i’m kiddin’, we’ll go as fast as ya want, and i promise not to kill you on the way.”

you snickered as the blond beamed at you.

“i’m holding you to that.” you smiled as atsumu pulled your face in closer once more. leaning forward to better prepare yourself, you allowed yourself to melt into another deep kiss with the man you would now call your boyfriend.

you never saw yourself being with someone who took life at a fast pace. someone who demanded the world’s attention without verbally calling for it. you never saw yourself falling for someone like that.

but here you were, with the man who ticked all of those boxes easily. the type of man you insisted wasn’t your type, turned out to be the blueprint for your exact type; you just weren’t aware of it until miya atsumu insisted you did.

++TAGLIST! @crescenttooru @miss-angel-ash @sarahvvictoria @babierin @fxncyoomi @s0utien @toobsessedsstuff @omibaby @kenkodzu @sugabeaniee @lovesunas @slutawara @bunny-on-crack @shouyouorange @memorableminds @whootwhoot @yikes-buddy @sweetsamus

[sugar-petals]

:: random things about boyfriend yoongi

↳ ♡ NOTE I saw this format floating around the fandom and thought it was cool and sweet (just like our honey boy so here it goes) 😊  includes an sfw and nsfw bit, both can be read independently.

words. 3k

SFW

First off, Yoongi is laid-back and casually sexy the way we know him. But he also has spikes of energy where he actually gets a little clingy. Any opportunity he will use to hold hands or jump around like a madman with his gummy smile because he got excited about something that you never could predict would make him so happy. He truly is an epiphany.

He’s your most eager personal chef but funnily enough a little unsettled by onions so you end up helping him. Yoongi hates to be crying in the kitchen because of some evil little vegetable but hey, perfect time and place to spend half an hour huddled together cooking or baking. And Yoongi is secretly longing for a cheesy scene, he finds it romantic when you wipe the tears from his face.

His way of speaking to you is a mix of mumbly Korean, high-pitched pouty cat speak, and old-school English slang phrases that he learned somewhere on social media or award shows back in 2018. Most of the time he takes things seriously but is up for some joking anyway. He is sure to giggle every now and then which is really adorable of him. Yoongi is also the person who gets every nuance of your humor and reacts to it.

After being single, you really have to get used to someone waddling around the house. Like— oh, he’s there! And it’s none other than him! Since Yoongi isn’t noisy when he concentrates on his laptop, it really stands out when he morphs from his unmovable rock-like being to a slow rolling stone headed towards the kitchen from time to time. You have to blink every time. And how could you not look up, he’s walking by with his cutest oversized sweaters and striped fluffy socks.

He cannot hide things that normal people would try to keep secret — because of their own discomfort, but he is good at blocking out things that serve your comfort. I’ll explain what I mean. If you have been keeping up with Yoongi postponing the reveal of his surgery until it was successful, you know what I mean. In short, Yoongi is pretty much an automatic filter for things that disturb you. Knowing the right time and place to inform you is the key. As is disregarding things that don’t concern you as a couple, unnecessary drama and opinions. He’s really good at that without ever trying to sugar-coat the important things because he remains a frank and honest soul.

Yoongi has an easier time giving random presents for simple occasions rather than making a big deal out of traditional festivities. So, big celebrations are often kept simple — unless the rest of BTS is there advocating their ‘a little party never killed nobody’ motto — while Yoongi focuses on getting you something attentive or useful every other day pretty much. He’s still a frugal type, you know him. It’s more about inexpensive things that catch his eye because he heard you likes this or that type of snack or want this or that sofa cushion. 

There’s always something new and surprising in the fridge and it’s hardly ever empty because Yoongs takes care of the groceries, really thinking it through. Just personal chef things. Being Yoongi’s partner must be the most destressing thing. He takes responsibility for the worldly things, the ironing clothes and the trash cans. He himself thinks that’s the easiest shit ever and is ready to put time into it (he sees the merit, it drives him) while thinking your side — the sheer act of being in love with him, being there for him — must be hard. Which it isn’t. 

Yoongi thinks emotions and relationships are tough and complicated while daily life runs smoothly at the snap of a finger. You think maintenance is a drudgery while love is not the maze your boyfriend assumes it is. Deep down Yoongi thinks he’s unlovable and a bad person, that’s why he believes he doesn’t have the burden but you have. That your affection then blazes past the barriers in Yoongi’s esteem is something that he finds incredible. It catches him off guard there, you burst the bubbles of the flaws he falsely imagines he has.

You bet your ARMY bomb you’re watching cat videos together.

Guess who’s the first person to hear all of Yoongi’s upcoming hit tracks? Even Namjoon gets the first sample ten minutes later. You gotta be really advanced at keeping secrets and avoiding accidental leaks with your phone or something.

Yoongi hesitates with the analogy because it’s a little funny and you’re evidently not a steaming liquid made of beans, but he claims you really are like his daily americano. Makes his every morning better. 

Now, in all seriousness. What means the most to him is that you take him how he is and are stable company. Yoongi is afraid of betrayal and stupid games so he has to be sure to have a safe bet going. I think that’s why he fancies marriage, it’s a sign of commitment and some degree of permanence to him. And yes, he is a bit jealous in nature since he’s easily invested in someone with a purity of feeling, almost in a naive way. Yoongi easily idolizes his partner and puts a lot of energy into a bond. He wants to protect that, take the risk, and he has watched for someone who radiates genuine trust and faith. He is sure to have found it in you without any illusions and he is right. Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty.

Playing the piano for dinner or date night is a must, he practices constantly to advance to a great standard. He secretly finds a lot of satisfaction in you cooing at his skills and melodies. Those ten bony fingers gliding over the keys with such a technicality and focus, and a passion that makes you hold your breath, it’s great to watch.

Did you see that one coming? He will compose and produce a designated mixtape only for you personally. Yes, with a little self-filmed, self-cut music video for the title track. 

Now those things never see the light of day, they’re all for you. But what about your couple life once it touches the social realm? As one might expect, Yoongi is very ‘eyes turn narrow’ with people who bring disharmony to your dynamic and the relationship in general. In fact, he is grumpy and disappointed, and should someone give him a reason, distinctly brutal. If someone even attempts to test you or plays manipulative games, Yoongi is relentlessly turning them from the inside out with his words that never miss the mark. They’re efficient. As I said, he hates playing annoying games, he’ll do any shortcut and be Yoongi.

I guarantee you can lean back and will never the fazed by stupid people and time wasters again. No need to lose face. Yoongi does the dirty work and is the best possible defender to have on your side. He handles that. Invasive opinions and useless phrases he will shove right up some trashtalker’s ass and leave. Let’s squarely say he is unafraid to be a armchair critic of your and his haters and doesn’t want any of that nuisance to disturb what you have together. He cuts very quick and makes sure not to get tangled up in trouble.

Yoongi will also debunk a whole bunch of weirdos on weverse asking about your private love while he’s at it. Prepare for some very entertaining snide remarks. Oh my god, so many entitled people will be pissed off. Many will also celebrate him for stepping up. What’s actually important to Yoongi is that nobody taints what is like a treasure to him.

It won’t be hard to overlook that Yoongi is very proud of you as well. He looks confident and revering when he hangs out with the group and you’re somewhere close by, even just doing something trivial.

He’s also pretty touchy, sometimes publically to demonstrate something, but mostly in the relative calm and safety of a hotel room. When the lights are out, all barriers crash, the utter romantic takes over. His favorite types of kisses besides those onto his hands are when you kiss his lashes. And yep. Yoongs is such a cozy little spoon. A very curled up one with cute shooky pajamas on most likely.

Talk about clothes. Believe it or not, Yoongi’s fashion goes through a significant change due to the relationship. He knows that you are touchy and thinks about what kinds of flannels are the biggest cuddle magnet, after all. And oh wonder, he will also show some level of skin when he accidentally hears your praises for his arms and legs and collar bones and glowy skin while talking to a close friend of yours. So, look forward to that in summer (he still dislikes the winter cold and wraps himself into scarves twice his size, mind you) though it’s still for your eyes only, he covers up when going out. Truth be told, he enjoys when you casually touch his skin. Especially the arms. Which hold up the firmament to you, and your world, too, and guard it.

BTS will know about how excited he is about you because he often boasts about for how long you’ve been living together by now. We all know this is Yoongi’s favorite way of bragging and it further shows that loyalty, dedication and longevity is the spice to his every meal.

Yoongi is probably going to quit the bottle because you naturally make him feel at ease and upbeat. In fact, he simply forgets about his wine. I don’t have to convince you that Yoongi will be very immersed in any interaction with you whether that be watching movies or discussing his latest tracks. 

Those discussions come with extra back massages for him because he spends a lot of hours in his chair. Especially around the neck, it’s no secret that this is in every cat’s top 3 favorite massaging areas. Yoongi is gonna make some really raspy, sleepy sounds and just melt in your hands. He’s gonna sleep like a baby afterwards every time. Sometimes, he says funny and cute things while he dozes. He looks very content.

Say goodbye to the 21st century adulting annoyances in your life because Yoongi has a grip on those without a word. Those six specific chores that always plague you take him only a dozen minutes and he is eager, the forms to fill out are already sent off, the list of people to e-mail is weeded through. The taxes are paid, the bank account is full, the meals are on the table, garnished to perfection. Roof over the head, and it’s a sturdy one, Yoongi bought a sound haven house to inhabit a lot of happiness for two. 

He’s probably the only person who doesn’t see it as a loss of dignity if you want to hold on tight to him during a dentist visit as a grown ass mf. Why all of this? Yoongi cannot not strive to feel needed in his actions. He wouldn’t like himself if he couldn’t contribute something reliable and useful. That you find things worthy of your time is priority. You complement each other, what you think is a waste of energy makes him work and strive and vice versa. That way, in the end all things are taken care of.

Giving is more important than taking in Yoongi’s world. He thinks of everything because he considers it an offense to have you in a pile of duties, that is, if you don’t like ‘em. It’s his form of dedicating his efforts and showing respect. He doesn’t need much in return. The things he expects if at all don’t feel like a duty: Much like he doesn’t consider doing those acts of services for you likewise.

Work horse he is, he needs something on his daily to-do plan. Which includes making you feel unbothered by the occasions of an incoming strict world when it’s getting to you. You’re supposed to do what you feel like doing just like him and not slave away at fifty deeds. That you torture yourself with daily life hassle is the thing he dislikes seeing the most. He enjoys doing these things so he’s happy to get going.

What’s not a daily life hassle: Holly is a big fan of yours. Instant friendship. Just wanted you to know.

He always knows how to preoccupy himself and finds something to improve. Getting on your nerves, and that’s no surprise, is the last thing Yoongi will ever do. In fact, you sometimes have to search for his napping spot because he got lost somewhere in the house. 

He either sleeps or works, his philosophy is simple. If you need him, he does appear seemingly out of nowhere. And, he spends as much time with you as you enjoy, not always prioritizing his producing unless it’s urgent or he’s on an inspiration streak. Which is great anyway, you can sit next to him listening. It’s the right balance of work and play.

Yoongi is not above blatantly showing off. Actually, he goes for an act of stunning pretty often. You know how cats parade around whatever they just caught. He wants to impress you with assets and accolades and appraisals, the boy can’t help it. That you only lightly nod at most of it with a little smile will confuse him but he will get the point later on. You wanna signal Yoongi that you anchor your love for him not in shifting numbers and chunky metal pieces. 

That you don’t confuse his signs of outward worth and fame with the core of the guy you find the sweetest in the world is very important to him. He will take some time to see through that because he’s used to being loved through status and its symbols by people close and afar. 

The way you throw yourself at him to give a big smooch in random situations — especially when he doesn’t feel great about himself— rather than only when he say gets a new car is sending him a message. Again, he has to grow into that. He will retreat at the beginning because he feels worthless of your affection on days where he doesn’t feel big and bold and successful. But since he sees you jumping on him because you need only his kind and squishy presence and see him as no different than usual because he’s always Yoongi underneath, your boyfriend will change his mind about it sooner or later. He learns that your presence makes him feel like a billion dollars yourself.

You don’t wallow in the regrets of other people missing the point of Yoongi and instead focus on always understanding him rather than enabling Yoongi into wrong directions. And there are many of those, his mental health can tell you a thing or two about it. He begins to get that you really know what you’re doing and are in it for the real him which makes him feel really loved far underneath all surfaces and images. You accept his fame and admire his work with music which is what he’s truly doing it for but also don’t forget that the most vulnerable Yoongi is the one that you’re there for and not a facade.

NSFW

I know you’re curious. That Yoongi’s sexual style is more than just interesting goes without saying. To give you an idea. Anything steamy with Yoongi means him taking his time. You know, for making it quality. Yoongi wants to grow into the right balance of activity and staying relaxed. He is good at keeping cool and bringing some focus to the madness. He wants to figure out how to be more casual instead of tense and overly preoccupied which he’ll be at the start of the relationship. But the fast learner he is, his nervousness fades way faster than you think. 

Yoongi is extremely afraid that he can’t please you or starts to become awkward slash clueless so he darts to the opposite of the spectrum and overperforms, even plays a character. You have enough cool yourself to tell him what to do in the pace that works best. That he stays centered in his body is important for you to teach him. When he gets grounded and juggling his confidence is out of the equation, he fucks the best.

His favorite position besides giving oral — with you on your back — will be doggy style. Man, we gotta talk about that. Slow to upper moderate pace, nothing too all over the place. Yoongi moans very slowly, too, all drawn out. Get ready for a frequent session of some anal to unwind. You heard that right. First, Yoongi will get the two of you into the right rhythm with his hands at the sides of your waist, then, ride it out in slow mo with his right hand properly stimulating you from the front. 

By habit, he will add some lube here and there but not use insanely dripping amounts so everything gets messy or he can’t touch you without sliding off anymore. Just enough to slide well. Yoongi is so good at this I swear, it’ll be your favorite thing to relax. He has the restraint and technique to pull it off rather than pulling out, huh. Yoongi is gonna stay inside you for ages. It feels like he’s massaging every spot for some extra time. It’s amazing to slack off your muscles, cool off, and get many a gentle but fulfilling orgasm. 

He’s not gonna put you through the hassle of dealing with an anal creampie cleanup so he keeps it wrapped, and mostly focuses on your movements altogether while keeping his own climax smooth and more relieving rather than something that relentlessly knocks him out in one go. Yoongi is good at observing and doesn’t feel the need to chase a violent high which is why he is so great at sex. Fucking with Yoongi leaves a wholesome feeling and you never feel ashamed or guilty, or a sense of being dirty and ruined. 

He enjoys having sex to make you feel really good and works his hands on you very respectfully. His goal is to have you wet and pulsing after a long while of getting you there, and putting you to a good night’s sleep. He’d feel terrible if he left you sore or disturbed. He is really passionate, especially with his kisses or when you ask him to slide into very deeply, but Yoongi being brash and controlling is an image out of sight.

Besides giving you the number one heavenly assfucks, Yoongi also likes to work his tongue as we know, and he’ll work it all over. Few body parts of yours have not made contact with that glorious mouth and I say that in the best of ways. You can instruct him to do whatever, Yoongi obliges with radiant joy. And here again, he takes minutes upon minutes. Kissing and kissing and licking and maybe even teasing once or twice to make you smile. You know, a little signature wink. Honoring your skin and every shape is not something that Yoongi has to talk about, he will physically show it and I swear it’ll finally get into your head with every little move, Yoongi has totally surrendered his tongue to your body and worships it.

[kaepop-trash]

Hey can you do a drabble with johnny where y/n and him share there kinks in a pillowtalk and even though they are timid (?) at first they encourage each other to speak.

And can you make it fluffy? Or like i dont mind how you make it i trust your writing style anyway😂😊😊😘😘

This started a whole discourse between me and two other people on what we think Johnny’s kinks are so genuine gratitude to you for that. After careful consideration, I came on these. This was very fun to write. I really wish people were this comfortable communicating in real life. I wish I was this comfortable communicating in real life.

I want you to picture this happening after the costco scene in Unintended Consequences, that is important to keep in mind. Thank you for saying you have trust in my writing because it makes one of us. I hope you like this!

-

Johnny looked up when the door of his bedroom opened, smiling when she walked in. She returned his welcoming smile with a tired one.

“I can’t believe you’re still awake.” She dropped her purse beside the door, “I’m sorry, the meeting lasted longer than I anticipated. We were supposed to go for dinner.” She sighed.

Johnny shook his head, “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He took his laptop off his lap and placed it on the bed. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.” He slipped out of bed, smiling at the way she fluttered her eyes away to the floor at his words.

Johnny definitely enjoyed how she looked when she was flustered a little too much.

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

She groaned, "No I was chewing on these crackers from a basket somebody gave me at the office. They were actually really good." She recalled.

"I'm famished." Johnny smiled as he came up to her.

She gave a look that was somewhere between surprise and apology. "You haven't eaten yet? It's midnight!" She sighed. Johnny shook his head. A small smile tugging at his lips from her reprimand, "I’m going to take a shower and then we’ll eat okay?”

-

“Why are people sending you baskets?” Johnny questions as they ate the food Johnny ordered hours ago. She turned to look at him, holding back a smile. With a suspicious gaze, Johnny picked up his phone.

“It’s your birthday next week.” Johnny snorted once he checked the date.

She laughed, “Remember last year?” The look on his face made her laugh some more.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Johnny sounded offended, “I was still on thin ice with Sooyoung then. Imagine how it felt when she told me it was your birthday and I had no clue.” He sulked making her bite back her laugh.

“She only told you because she knew I wouldn’t.” (Y/N) shrugged, shoving more food into her mouth.

“Why?”

“Just.” She shrugged again. “All my friends live in different cities, you and I were barely on our second month; so I didn’t really do much about it. It’s just another day to me anyway.”

Johnny hummed with sarcasm, “That’s why you were sitting on your couch eating ice cream and watching HBO?” He clicked his tongue, disappointment clear on his face.

Her brows creased, “Hey! Nothing wrong with eating your favourite flavour of ice cream and watching your favourite show for the ninth time.”

“Yes.” Johnny sat back in his chair, patience written all over his face. “But we could have done that together.”

She chewed on her lips at that, before clicking her tongue. “You came over anyway!” She laughed, “With cake and that lemon chicken I really like. You’re the best boyfriend.” She puckered her lips at him and made kissy noises from across the table making him scoff. “It was the middle of the week! I didn’t want to be a bother, so I didn’t tell you. It’s whatever.” She dismissed the idea. “Don’t be mad.” She gave him a cheeky grin. "I'm yours for the day this time." She promised.

Johnny huffed, “Just watch.” He pointed his fork at her, “This time I’m going to go all out.” She groaned at the promise, making a smirk lift his lips. “So many gifts, (Y/N). Just watch.” He threatened. “So many.”

“Johnny.” She whined.

“No, see.” He sat up in his chair, his eyes glinting. “I know you better now. I know exactly what to give you.” He sounded very sure. "So you don't have to be self-righteous."

“And what’s that?”

“Things you want but put off buying. Like that kitchen knife you were eyeing at the mall. Or those scented candles.” He recalled with such impeccable memory that she would refuse if she wasn’t so touched.

Johnny drew his lower lip in with his teeth, thinking over something and then letting it go, “I’m also getting you some things I want.”

“Like what?” She raised a brow.

He gave her a secretive smile, “You’ll see.”

She grimaced, “Why so many?”

“Because I want to.” Johnny got out of his chair, picking up their empty plates. She got up and followed him towards the kitchen, “You never let me buy you anything! Your birthday is an opportunity.” He put the plates in the sink, giving her a chaste kiss on her temples. "And don't say you can get it yourself or I'll add another gift to my list." He said like he read her mind.

She bit her lips, “I let you buy me food.” She protested softly.

The incredulous look Johnny gave her made her giggle. “Basic nourishment, (Y/N). What a standard you set.” He huffed.

“You’re into that aren’t you?” She said softly.

Johnny stopped just as he scrubbed the first plate, turning to her. “Nourishment?” He scoffed, amusement painting on his face. “As a general rule of life, yes.”

She rolled her eyes, “It pleases you, giving people things?” She clarified.

“I guess.” He said slowly, looking back at the plate.

“You even got Mark an xbox for something you refuse to tell me about.” She scoffed.

Johnny smiled to himself, “That’s between him and me.” He wiped his hands after finishing his chore.

She hummed, “So I was right.” She said to herself mostly. When Johnny looked up at her in question, she bit down on her lip. “Last week. At costco?” Her heartbeat sped up a little as she recalled the afternoon.

“Oh.” Johnny blushed and looked away, a sight that was delightful to experience. “Yeah. I mean,” He paused, letting out a short laugh. “I thought I made that obvious.” She could tell he was trying to be nonchalant, but his cheeks were already turning pink.

“What else?” She questioned.

“What else what?” He turned around to face her, pulling her into his chest with a quick tug at her waist.

“What else are you into?”

Johnny gave her a devious grin, “So we’re doing this now?”

She looked down to his chest, “I mean. A year is long enough for us to discuss what we’re into. Sexually speaking.” Her warming cheeks made her look lower, to her own fingers.

Johnny hummed, tightening his grip. “Since we’re discussing this. Let’s start with you.”

That made her look up at him, “I asked you first!” She protested. “You should start.” She narrowed her eyes.

He nodded, “Come to bed at least, we’re both very tired.”

-

They both lay on their sides, watching each other. The soft light of the lamp above their head illuminated his face, his eyes covered by the shadow his hair left.

Johnny’s eyes shifted to the mirror on the wall opposite his bed, “I like watching you in the mirror sometimes. Watching us, I mean.” When his eyes came back to her, she could tell he was being careful. It made her heart flutter.

“I’ve noticed.” She smiled.

Johnny laughed, flipping over to look at the ceiling, “You’re making me nervous.” He groaned, running his hand through his hair. “I’m very vocal in bed. So I enjoy that in a partner too.” He nodded to himself.

“Like telling you how good it feels?” He questioned.

Johnny flopped his head to the side to face her again, his hair landing on his eyes, “Exactly.” The look he gave her seared her skin, “Also what you want me to do. I’m into verbal affirmation.”

She hummed, “Got anything I wasn’t already aware of?” She raised a brow.

Johnny grinned sheepishly, “Your turn. I’m trying to ease into it.” He winked, “What does my baby like, hmm?” He reached out to lace his fingers through hers, rubbing his fingers on his palm.

She chewed on her bottom lip, “There’s something about the way you run your fingers through my hair.” She fluttered her eyes away from his, focusing instead on his fingers. “Actually, fingers in general. Very nice, very attractive.” She lifted his hand, inspecting it.

“I’m flattered.” Johnny chuckled, “What else?” His voice came out rougher.

Her heart hammered in her throat, “Sometimes, when you’re cross at me.” She turned to look at him, an embarrassed laugh emitting from her lips. “You sound too good scolding me, Johnny. I didn’t know I could be into that.” She huffed, sounding a little annoyed at the notion.

“Now this. This I knew.” A smile tugged at his lips.

"I like taking control sometimes." Her cheeks felt too hot, "Especially if I can be on top." She kept her eyes on his palm.

"Oh." Johnny's voice dropped a little more. "Wow." He huffed, "Okay."

She looked up at him with an amused look in her eyes, the eager nod he gave her giving her the confidence to continue.

"I also," She paused and took a breath. Her exhale came out as a flustered laugh, making her smile.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Johnny grinned.

“I’m not!” She interjected, "Just give me a moment." She groaned, closing her eyes and ignoring her now burning cheeks. "I want to sit on your face." She scrunched her face, lifting a hand to hide it.

Johnny laughed loudly, the sound making her let his hand go to shove his chest.

"Don't laugh at me, Johnny!" She whined, "I'm going to go home. This is the worst idea I've ever had." She risked taking the hand off her eyes to find him grinning at her affectionately.

"You're so cute, (Y/N). That's not bad at all. It's so hot, I'd do anything you want me to know, baby." He brushed his knuckles on her pink cheeks. "You can tell me anything." He mumbled.

"I know!" She defended, "I know." She groaned. "This is just–" She paused, sighing. “This is just new to me.”

“Kinks?” Johnny gave her a skeptical look. She kicked his shin, making Johnny laugh.

“Communicating about them. I just thought,” She took a nervous breath. “I want you to be comfortable with your desires, you know?” She came a little closer to him. "I wanted to know what you like.

Johnny looked over her face, “I am very comfortable with how much I desire you. Too comfortable, in fact.” He raised a meaningful brow, biting back his smile.

“No.” She took another breath, thinking her words over once more. “I have a suspicion.” She breached slowly.

“No (Y/N),” The serious look on his face made her pause. “Mark and I are just friends.”

She snorted, making Johnny grin. “That’s very reassuring. But,” She reached out to put a hand on his chest. He hummed when she did, the sound reverberating in his chest against her palm. She kept her eyes focused on the way her hand rose and fell against his chest, “Sometimes I feel that you’re too careful with me. I don’t know whether it’s because of the fact that I haven’t had too many partners or because you’re afraid I’ll freak out or something.” She looked up with wide eyes when his breathing seemed to rise, her hand moving more rapidly. “I could be wrong. It’s just something I was wondering.” She looked away again, losing her nerves.

This time Johnny put his fingers under her chin, lifting it to meet his eyes, “Hey. You can tell me about anything you wonder in passing, hmm?” His eyes glowed in the dim light, she nodded. “I am gentle with you. I guess, some of it is because I am nervous of how you’ll react. But mostly because I love you. I want to treat you so well, like I believe you deserve.”

“What are you nervous about?” Curiosity took over her hesitation as she finally felt her questions being answered, “I can assure you, that you can’t break me in half.” She added with a snort, a smile playing on her lips.

Johnny mirrored it, “I know.”

“Then?”

“I mean,” Johnny paused, “I guess.” He sighed. He rubbed his face with his hand.

It was strange to see Johnny flustered about something. It was rare, and it never failed to catch her off-guard. Between the both of them, Johnny was comfortable being the one always sure about things; he was the one who not only knew what he wanted, but was enviably vocal about it. She did her part and waited patiently for him to find his words.

Johnny laughed, “You always do this to me.” He groaned, turning back to face her with renewed certainty in his eyes, “There is a laundry list of things I am so tempted to do to you. But I would never want to make you uncomfortable. I guess,” He paused again.

When she laughed at the repeated phrase, he joined with a pained one. “You’re laughing at me.” He groaned, the irony not lost on him.

“Only because I think you’re so cute.” She tugged at his t-shirt, leaving a kiss on his nose. He scrunched it, as if to protest, but it only cemented her statement.

He trapped her in his arms, pecking her lips a few times with a smile. “Exactly. I think I like being cute around you. I want to be your cute, domestic boyfriend Johnny. I didn't think I'd like that role as much I do and I was worried–”

“That I would stop thinking you’re cute if you spank me?” She scoffed.

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, taking a strained inhale.

She reached up to leave a soft kiss on his eye, “We can always try it.” She said softly. His exhale was equally strained. “And other things." She hummed, "Doesn't mean we lose the comfort we have. If anything, I want you to be more comfortable. Which is why I wanted to know. You’re always holding back. I see it in the way you look at me sometimes.” She kissed the other lid, “I just want to know what it is. Be honest with me.” She kissed his forehead, “Trust me, so I can show that I trust you.” Johnny sighed at those words. “I don’t want your restraint.” She murmured against his cheek.

“You really cannot say that when you take it as a personal challenge to pull away all of my restraint. You’ve been doing it since we met.” He opened his eyes, chiding her.

The smile she gave him at that, shy but unapologetic, made him think that today would really be the day he would tell her of the things he only thought of mid-week when he missed her touch a little too much.

“See.” She smiled against his cheek, “That’s my kink.” She reached a hand out to rest on his neck, nails dragging up into his hair. Johnny shivered at the action. "I just love it. Pulling your restraint away from you slowly, watching you try so hard to keep your self-control together. It's so hot watching it fall apart." Both their breathing matched, heavy and eager. "You're so hot."

"Wretched little thing." He mumbled into her neck, making her skin erupt into goosebumps.

She smiled against his chin, "There's also that isn’t there? The difference in our general stature." A short breathless laugh left her when Johnny groaned, the sound shooting down into the depths of her belly. “What is it about it? I was always curious.” She pulled back from. Somehow looking into his dark eyes and finger-dragged hair was worse than being close to him.

“I just lose my mind over it.” He breathed out the confession, “You're so small, so precious." He laughed at his own words. "That sounds ridiculous out loud but," He chewed his bottom lip sore, her eyes settling on the now swollen flesh, "How your hands fit into mine. How you fit into me.” He paused, dragging his teeth over his lower lip again. “When I’m inside you.” He closed his eyes again, his breathing rapid.

She felt herself rub her thighs together. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. She wanted to know these things about him, because was started to fall in love with him. She wanted to see every part of him and reassure him about it. Soothing the small doubts she knew her wildly confident Johnny still held. Instead, the room felt charged with the growing tension.

“Yeah?” She encouraged him.

“You take me so well. You swallow me with your pretty little cunt.” He groaned.

It was her turn to close her eyes, her breathing joining his in pace. This wasn’t at all how this was supposed to go, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind.

“There’s also something,” He continued. “That I think you’d like.” He granted her the mercy of closing the space between them again. She opened her eyes, waiting for him to finish. “Sometimes I think of how it would feel to have my fingers wrapped around your pretty neck.” He hummed, raising his hand to brush his thumb against her throat.

“Fuck.” She grumbled, “Johnny how could you possibly think I’d mind any of these things?” She sounded the cocktail of exasperation and arousal she felt. “Do all of those to me. God you’re absolutely insane for thinking I’d be adverse to any of these.” She whined, squirming as her body searched for friction. “I thought you’d say you want to hang me from the ceiling or something.”

Johnny's laugh sounded more like a pant. "No, nothing that intense." He brushed his thumb over her clavicles. "I think the furthest I'll go is a foot fetish." He sighed.

Her eyes blinked open, "You have a foot fetish?" She asked, surprised. Johnny gave her a nod. "Now see that one I'm going to judge you for." She put a finger on his chest, finding her volume again.

Johnny bit back a smile, "Why does that get such an extreme reaction?" A short laugh bubbled up his throat.

"Are you going to make me send you pictures of my feet?" She furrowed her brows, but her eyes betrayed the humour.

"Not if you don't want to, no."

"But you'll look at them? Like in a sexual way?" She questioned.

Johnny smirked, "How do you know I don't already? You have nice feet. Especially when you paint your nails or wear heels." He took the finger she put on her chest and bought it to his lips.

"That's a little weird I'm not going to lie to you baby." She scrunched her nose.

Johnny scoffed, "So you can like my hands but I can't like your feet?" He raised his brows at her.

She chewed on her lips, caught in the trap of his words. "That's a fair point. I guess you can keep that, then." She gasped when he took her index finger between his teeth, biting down just hard enough for the blood pool into her stomach.

"Don't knock it till you try it, (Y/N)." He warned, his tongue grazing against the flesh now imprinted with the mark of his teeth.

"What exactly am I trying?" She raised a brow.

"One of these days, I just might show you. For now, we both need to sleep." He dropped her hand.

She looked at him, dumbfounded. "We aren't having sex?"

Delight gleamed in his eyes at the indignation in her voice. "Tomorrow." The single word was a bond.

She groaned, too tired herself to put up a fight. "Absolute tease." She rolled her eyes, "That should have made it onto your list. Probably worse than the feet thing, as well." She huffed.

Johnny laughed again, pulling her closer to him till his chin rested on her crown. "I love you so very much." He sighed, the words making her chest bubble like a freshly popped can of soda.

She nuzzled into him, the action significant enough to make him smile. "I hope me thinking your feet are sexy isn't the deal breaker because I don't want to lose you." He mixed the heartfelt words with a lighthearted jab, something very quintessentially 'Johnny' to do.

"You wish you could get rid of me that easy, big boy." She shoved him lightly, "You're my daddy now." She tried to joke but Johnny groaned.

"Stop saying that." He warned, "I was hoping we'd go for brunch tomorrow. So we need to sleep."

"Such a father thing to say Mr. John Suh." She teased further.

Johnny chuckled into her hair. "Okay, enough. I didn't tell you all of those things just to be teased." He whined.

She shuffled to look up at him, "That's exactly what you signed up for with me." She pecked his lips once, "Good night." She smiled against them.

-

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences

[adorethedistance]

Party Hard - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: drinking, partying, intoxication, non sexual stripping, swearing probably, 

Words: 6343 (which, if you know me, is a FUCK ton)

Summary: Going from tipsy to full on drunk is a terrible idea, but especially when you’ve got a secret to hide that could mean the difference between preserving and ruining your relationship with your best friend.

A/N: A couple items before we get started: I think I’m back on my bullshit? I mean I wrote this fic and it’s three times the length of my normal fics. Also I wrote this headassery as a literal self insert me(ace) x someone and so there are a couple flaws here and there that make this something I’m not 100% proud of. Owen picks the reader up a few times and I’m aware this kind of thing can really effect someone’s experience with this fic so I do apologize for the lack of inclusivity in regards to body type/ableism. I’m falling really behind on school work because I just can’t find the motivation which either means y’all will be seeing a lot more of me soon or absolutely nothing at all. Not sure which yet.

“You’ve got it so bad.” Charlie rests his left arm on his best friend’s shoulder, tipping back the half-full angry orchard bottle he’d been nursing for the better half of an hour. Owen’s stare is immediately broken and he crosses his arms defensively.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Turning to meet his friend’s smug stare, Owen shoots Charlie a glare of annoyance before returning his attention to the girl on the dance floor. Surrounded by a gaggle of her closest friends, Y/n is dancing and singing her heart out to Fergalicious with Chelsea, Leila, Savannah, and Carolynn. The bunch of them share in sporadic laughs as they exchange ridiculous dance moves just to add to the fleeting moment’s laughter. An assortment of screeches and squawks blend together as they all prepare to sing the rap section of the song. Observing the level of excitement the girls have over the verse, Owen can’t help but laugh at the spectacle.

“Why don’t you just ask her out already?” Charlie inquires between sips of his cold drink.

“What?”

“Y/n. Why have you not asked her out.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Yeah. Because you haven’t asked her out.” Owen rolls his eyes before turning 90 degrees to fully face the smug guitarist. He turns about-face to prove a point, but another symphony of squeals at the next song choice drags his attention back to his other best friend on the dance floor. “You’re so whipped.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! Look, if you don’t ask her out tonight, I will.”

“You’re not even into her,” Owen protests unceremoniously. Setting the molasses colored bottle on the counter next to Owen, Charlie steps back and copies his position of crossed arms and a relaxed stance.

“You’re right, I’m not. But you are, and if that’s what it takes to light the fire under your ass then I’ll do it.”

“She wouldn’t say yes.”

“Are you sure? I mean, the only way to know for sure is to ask.” And with that, Charlie is off, speeding toward Y/n at a pace that launches Owen into an impulsive chase. To prevent his friend from doing something stupid, Owen shoves him in the opposite direction from the group of girls on the dance floor. What he hadn’t anticipated was Charlie moving so far so fast. Owen has longer legs, he’s supposed to be the faster one, not Charlie. That’s why he hadn’t anticipated turning away from his musical friend to come face to face with a very flushed Y/n. Her lip-gloss coated lips are parted as she catches her breath from all the dancing. They look so soft and inviting that Owen can’t help but stare, and doesn’t realize the several looks of confusion among the girls around him.

“Everything okay, Owen?” Snapping out of his hyper focused stare, Owen blinks a few times, trying to generate a reason for coming over.

“You’ve been dancing for a while.”

“...Yeah?”

“Let me fix you a drink?” His statement comes out as more of a question but the breathless girl agrees nonetheless. Owen extends his hand to her which she gladly accepts but not without a quick word to her friends.

“I’ll be right back, I’m getting a drink.”

Her friends aren’t stupid, quite the opposite actually. And they see right through Owen’s facade of fixing her a drink because she’d been ‘dancing a while’. Please. As if they didn’t know a desperate attempt at flirting when they saw it.

The pounding music from the backyard begins to fade and muffle once the pair step into the Shada’s beautiful kitchen space. Owen leads her to the kitchen island where he has her take a seat on one of the barstools in front of the high countertop. Stepping around the fixture, Owen busies himself with whipping up a drink for Y/n at the makeshift bar on the island. He doesn’t even have to ask what it is she wants. Ice, pink whitney, club soda, and a splash of lime juice mixed together in a red solo cup Owen had considerately written her name on before going all mixologist-mode.

“Your usual.”

“Thank you, sir. You know, I’ve only had a handful of barbecue chips since I got here, and I’m already tipsy, so this actually might get me completely drunk.” Taking a sip, Y/n hums out of pleasure, “Why do you make my favorite drink better than I make my favorite drink?”

“So you have a reason to keep me around.” At the sound of Y/n’s laugh, Owen cracks a smile in time with his favorite sound in the world. The blonde haired man leans forward to rest his weight on his left forearm. He stares at her with adoration seeping from his gaze, before lifting his own cup to drink with her.

“What is that?” she asks, sitting up taller to try and see into Owen’s cup over the island.

“Jack Daniels.”

“I want some.”

“No,” Owen answers swiftly albeit softly. Y/n, however, is not feeling as conciliatory.

“No?”

“Have you ever tried whiskey before?”

“Well, no-”

“You’re drinking a fruit flavored cocktail that’s like 30% nonalcoholic. A sip of this would knock you off your little ass.” Y/n frowns at his words and employs a fake pout of anger to guilt her now laughing friend. Despite her smile, she whines,

“You suck.” Owen merely shrugs unapologetically before sipping and wincing at his drink of choice. “So… how did your date go- with Amy?” And there it is. The question that’s been at the forefront of Y/n’s mind for the last 24 hours.

Owen met this girl Amy at a more professional house party type of event and they hit it off right away. They spent the night invested in conversation, sharing in a cacophony of laughter. Y/n had no right to be upset, but she was. Amy was drop dead gorgeous in that Mini length red, velvet dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her figure was snatched to the gods, and she was about 5’3”; a seemingly irrelevant thing to notice, but Y/n knew that was the height Owen loved in a partner. At least, based on all his previous flings. And not to mention, her beautiful golden blonde hair that extended all the way down her toned back. Amy was perfect to all standards including that of any straight man with eyes and undoubtedly Owen’s. They spent the entire night together, Y/n long forgotten despite having been Owen’s plus one.

Y/n on the other hand didn’t exactly view herself as the drop-dead gorgeous supermodel type. Seeing how Owen took an interest in her at that event, it was no wonder Y/n was jealous. In fact, she had been so jealous that she allowed their flirting to ruin her entire evening.

She had been invited platonically as Owen’s guest, but Owen didn’t feel guilty about leaving her alone once he saw Charlie was by her side the whole night. Little did he know Charlie was only there for her because Owen wasn’t. It was pity company. Pity company that she was grateful to have as she cried into a few gin and tonics. Y/n avoided telling Charlie about her feelings for the adorable drummer, but with the way events transpired, he had figured out what it was that had upset her.

Charlie so badly wanted to give Owen the guilt trip of a lifetime. And he did once he and Owen were alone, heading home in Charlie’s orange hatchback car. He did so by telling Owen about how his best friend had spent the entire evening crying into gin and tonics. ‘Y/n doesn’t even like gin and tonic’ was all Owen could come up with.

When he inquired about why his best friend was crying, Charlie said he didn’t know, but it may have had something to do with the fact that the person who invited her spent the whole night ignoring her; he left it at that, leaving Owen to connect the dots, sort of. Owen had come to the realization that Y/n must have been crying over him, but why? Unable to comprehend a reason, he pushed the situation to the back of his mind. So far back that when Amy texted him that same night, he immediately responded and eventually set up a date for them to get dinner alone Friday evening.

The date was fine. Objectively there was nothing wrong with it. But every time Amy took a sip of the gin and tonic she had ordered, he couldn’t help being reminded of Y/n that night. It took Owen a solid thirty minutes to finally conclude that maybe Y/n was... jealous? Of what? Of Amy? Quickly reviewing a long list of qualities, identical to the one that Y/n had thoroughly checked through when she first saw the blonde, Owen realized she was indeed jealous of Amy. But why? What did Amy have that Y/n didn’t?

Oh.

His initial conclusion in the car with Charlie had to be right. Y/n was crying over him, and seemingly jealous of Amy, all because Amy had his attention. Why was that a problem?

Oh… no. No, Y/n does not have feelings for him. Y/n is... well, Y/n. His best friend, his partner in crime, his confidant, there’s no way she’s in love with him. There’s a different reason as to why she’d been crying into drinks she didn’t like. And that different reason is why her text replies have been short and cold when he had asked for date night conversation pointers. And that different reason is why her smile kept faltering on FaceTime when he was asking for fashion advice for his date.

Y/n is not in love with her best friend.

Owen had spent the past year pushing down his feelings for the girl that threatened to bubble over the top. If Y/n was truly into him, he would’ve acted on them. But she isn’t, so he didn’t. At least, that’s what Owen told himself…

“It was alright,” he offers lamely as a reply to her inquiry. Y/n simply nods and takes another swig of her drink to dull the ache in the center of her chest.

“Just alright?”

“Okay, it was better than alright. She was great.” There’s a hole burning in the center of her heart, and against her better judgment, she expands the deficit by asking for more information.

“What does that mean- that she was ‘great’?”

“You know…” Owen trails off in search of the right words, some words, any words, but nothing comes to him. To sell her nonchalant demeanor, the hopelessly devoted girl is staring down into her cup as if it’s the most interesting thing in the room. She didn’t expect Owen’s eyes to be boring into hers when she looked back up, so she quickly musters a polite smile. Maybe the average onlooker couldn’t tell it was fake, but Owen knows something is off. He just knows. Because he knows her.

“How did those conversation pointers pan out?” She’s deflecting, he thinks.

“One of them worked.” I’m just feeding into it, he thinks.

“Only one of them?” He’s holding back something, she thinks.

“Well, yeah. We didn’t really do much talking if you get what I mean.” I don’t think I can handle this, she thinks.

“I see…” The pair stands together in a silence so tense they felt like strangers. It’s awful. Y/n and Owen hate every second of it, but what could they do? In a moment blinded by upset, Y/n reaches across the island to grab the newly opened bottle of grey goose and pours what must’ve been no less than three shots of liquid into her cup. No club soda or lemonade this time, she chugs down the rest of her drink in a flash; Owen stares at her in disbelief and shock.

Y/n hates being drunk, she likes being the designated driver, she’s never had straight up liquor in her life, and she’s a lightweight, that’s for damn sure. Owen knows all of these things and is even more surprised to see her reaching for an almost empty bottle of gin.

“Hey. Maybe you should take it easy, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a lightweight and you know it. Put the cup down.” When Y/n shakes her head no, something in Owen snaps and his desire to be gentle is long forgotten. “Y/n. Put the drink down.”

“Why do you care, Owen?” In taking time to respond, Owen sees the opportunity and goes for it, taking the cup from her loose grasp and splashing it down the drain of the vegetable sink. “What the fuck?!”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink. Come on.” It’s only a matter of time until Y/n becomes an incoherent human being that’s impossible to wrangle, so Owen is very aware he’s on the clock. Snagging two Arrowhead water bottles in one hand, he takes Y/n’s hand in the other and brings her into the Shada’s den. There are only a few other people in the room, one is a couple and the other a pair of pining idiots, to which Owen becomes slightly wary. Not that the dynamic would change much. He and Y/n are practically a couple according to everyone around them.

Chelsea and Charlie are sitting fairly close together for just friends, on the chocolate brown loveseat facing the couch that Owen has plopped his increasingly intoxicated friend onto; Leila is sitting in a single armchair that a very tipsy Taylor is hanging over the back of to hug her shoulders. Upon seeing Y/n’s pouting expression Chelsea seeks more information,

“You good, fam?”

“He threw it down the sink!” She’s fading faster than Owen had hoped.

“I did. I poured what would’ve been her fifth and sixth shots down the sink.”

“Jesus, Y/n, are you trying to kill yourself?”

“What are you, a cop?” Even tipsy she’s still sharp as a tack. If Owen wasn’t frustrated with her at the moment, he would’ve probably laughed. But he is, so he didn’t. Slipping back into caretaker mode, he hands her one of the water bottles he snagged from the cooler on the way out. In her typical stubborn and petulant fashion, Y/n weakly throws the unopened bottle onto the couch cushion next to her. All their friends laugh but Owen isn’t having it.

“Y/n.” And it only takes a firm call of her name for the slumped over lightweight to glare at him but oblige. She retrieves the bottle and sticks her arm out straight toward Owen’s still standing figure.

“I can’t open it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucked up,” Leila comments.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you fucked up period,” Chelsea adds on. Charlie laughs lightly before resuming whatever conversation the four of them had going pre-Owen and Y/n’s entrance.

Satisfied with the small sips she’s taking of her water, Owen relaxes and takes a seat next to her on the couch. The temporary break in her temper tantrum allows Owen to save his breath; he opens his own water bottle, taking a few drinks which ended up being half the bottle. He’s given her a good bit of room on the couch but it isn’t good enough for Y/n. It takes her a few failed attempts to screw on the cap of her water but once it’s properly sealed, she moves closer to her best friend. The water has acted like some magical temperament cure as Y/n’s previously permanent pout has disappeared.

Owen knows he and Y/n are close enough to where cuddling wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But the way she’s burrowed into his side, picking up his seemingly ‘heavy’ arm to place it around her own inebriated frame, laying her head high up on his chest, and unintentionally resting her hand on his lower abdomen, something feels off. Her hand isn’t dangerously low, but low enough that the side of her limp palm has met the waistband of his jeans. Owen can’t help but feel his skin tingle and burn under her touch. Why is he so affected by her touch all of a sudden?

Owen is pulled from his snowballing thoughts by the sound of Y/n’s muffled voice against his chest. He leans down as far as he can which places his head on top of hers gently.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry,” he whispers just loud enough for her to hear. A tiny drop of warmth on his shirt under her head triggers Owen’s memory: Y/n’s an emotional drunk. She doesn’t get drunk often but when she does, she goes all in and becomes somewhat manic as a result. That accounts for her previous anger. Now it’s sadness, so in about ten minutes, she’ll be easily excitable and bouncing off the walls.

Y/n had carpooled with Leila and Chelsea to the party, and though Owen was upset about her not picking him up like they’d briefly talked about at first, he’s suddenly thankful for the arrangement.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?”

“Unhhh.” The lack of a coherent response is enough for Owen, and after finishing the rest of his water, he sits up on the couch.

“Where’s your house key? Hm?” The prospect of losing her key is absolutely devastating to Y/n as she begins to weep. Her imminent distress in response to Owen’s question has all their friends laughing once more; Leila speaks up,

“Check the left chest pocket of her jacket.”

Owen nods, noting the directions, and gently rolls his friend over on her back. Deciding against using her strength, Y/n flops over onto her other side which still allows Owen access to her pocket. His long fingers dwarf the button fastener on her jacket that she often struggles to open, and sure enough her sky blue house key is in her pocket just as Leila said.

“Thanks,” he acknowledges Leila before taking Y/n’s cold hands in his own larger ones to help her stand. It’s a bit of a struggle to stand and as a result, the fading girl leans a bit of her weight into Owen’s side. “You gonna say bye to our friends?”

Y/n nods a goodbye to each person in the room, moving from left to right naming Leila, Taylor, Chelsea, and then Charlie. Upon saying bye to Charlie the small girl starts to cry again, harder this time, much to everyone’s confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“Charlie looked a-at me like he didn’t l-like me.” The entire room bursts out laughing, Owen included this time, but she’s still crying. “It’s no-not funny.”

“I know. You’re right, it’s not funny.” Owen’s exaggerated sympathy goes undetected by the very emotional Y/n as she presses her face into his grey long sleeve shirt. She reaches up to hug her arms around Owen’s neck for stability as she adds more tears to the tiny spot from before. “Can you walk?” He asks genuinely as more of her weight leans into him. The only response Owen gets is a few soft sobs, and in reaction to her messy state, lets out a subtle eye roll. He shakes his head before bending down to place one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulder blades, sweeping her off the ground before she can protest.

“Would you guys tell Jer thanks and that I had to take her home?” A symphony of affirmations and goodbyes usher him out of the house, and once outside Y/n’s crying diminuendos into short sniffles and the occasional sigh.

“Here, be careful,” Owen panics as his friend nearly bangs the front of her head against the roof of his car. Once he cautiously places all her limbs in the passenger side, Owen shuts the door and hurries over to the driver’s side as if Y/n could hurt herself in the next five seconds. He places the key in the ignition but before he even touches the gear shift, he turns and looks quizzically at his best friend. The sniffling and sighs coming from her puffy face have lulled her into an almost unconscious state; Owen puffs out a frustrated sigh as he reaches across the entire car to grab Y/n’s seatbelt for her.

Another thing about drunk Y/n is that her emotional state makes her more likely to give in to physical impulses. So after she registers Owen leaning across her lap for the seatbelt, she grabs his shoulder so he doesn’t move away. The action surprises Owen and he turns his face to look into her half-lidded eyes. He’s trying to make sense of the action but his trailing thoughts are interrupted when the girl in the passenger’s seat leans forward slightly to put her face against Owen’s neck.

“I like your smell.” Owen tries so hard not to laugh in fear of upsetting her again, but he can’t conceal the smile growing on his face. He then gently pulls away from her grasp in order to actually start driving,

“Okay. Thank you.”

The car ride is composed of mostly comfortable silence with the occasional inebriated comment or nonsensical sound from the girl in the passenger seat; Owen had been so captivated by Y/n’s uncharacteristically relaxed state, he’d been driving on autopilot and instead of turning left to get on the highway that runs south to where her apartment is, he’d gone north to go to his own place. No big deal, Owen didn’t plan on leaving her intoxicated and alone, and she’s stayed the night plenty of times before now. What’s one more night? It isn’t until he puts the car in park and helps her out of the vehicle that Y/n clocks her surroundings.

“I don’t live here.”

“You don’t, no, but I do,” Owen replies simply before he slides out of the car. Y/n stays in the car as if Owen told her not to move, and looks up at him confusedly when he opens her door. In her tipsy state, she is able to recognize what Owen is doing and smugly places her hand over the buckle of her seatbelt. With her tiny palm over the red button, she begins giggling maniacally.

“What are you doing?” Owen asks with a frustrated sigh although he can’t help the small smile overtaking his features at the sound of her growing laughter. He doesn’t get a response, just more giggling which lets him know he’s going to have to do things the hard way now that she’s in a lifted mood. “Kid, you have to get out of the car.”

“You can’t make me.”

Owen takes a step back from the open door to reevaluate. Y/n always tells him to work smarter, not harder. Another one of her many bouts of wisdom is that you can keep the attention of children and adults alike with a vastly dynamic change in volume. The question is will she notice Owen using this tactic on her in her drunken state?

“Hey, Y/n/n,” his speech drops to a low whisper. “I’m sad, can you hold my hand?” The change in volume works exactly as described; completely convinced by the sincerity of his whispering, Y/n gives him her right hand. “Can I have the other one?”

When she nods a small ‘yes’ and gives him both of her hands, Owen finds himself fighting the urge to laugh at how easy that was. He takes both of her cool hands in his larger left one to reach across her body and release her seatbelt with a swift CLICK.

Luckily Y/n didn’t tangle herself up in the seatbelt, but she had other ideas for causing trouble. Owen helped her out of the car but once she was standing on her own two feet, she began running away from him. With a slam of the car door and a string of breathy curses later, he chases after his best friend before she can hurt herself on literally anything in the parking garage. The sound of Y/n’s laughter carries through the vacant space, and despite all her best efforts, Owen quickly catches up to her. Her giddy intoxication allowed for the suspension of disbelief that she could outrun the much taller Owen Joyner, but she’s sorely mistaken when his strong arms wrap around her waist and lift her feet off the ground. Y/n’s bouts of laughter are contagious; Owen finds himself laughing alongside his best friend. Setting her feet back on the ground he asks,

“Are you going to run away again if I let go of you?”

“Yeah,” she chokes out through the tail end of her laughing fit. The candidness of her reply prompts Owen to throw his head back, shaking it as if in disagreement with the universe itself,

“I appreciate your honesty.” And with that, Y/n screeches in glee as her best friend maneuvers her body in his grip to lift her over his right shoulder.

“Owen!”

“You did this to yourself, kid.”

The silent elevator ride up to his flat is comfortable relative to the current position they’re in. Y/n’s no longer fighting being carried but instead entertains herself by tapping out an intricate beat on the surface of Owen’s back.

“Guess what song this is.”

The beat she’s playing is close to incoherent and Owen tries to stifle his full laugh in fear of making her cry again. He’s been successful so far, but now having Y/n over his shoulder, she can feel the movement of his abdomen that was unintelligible by sight alone.

“Your favorite song,” he guesses insincerely.

“No, my favorite song doesn’t sound like that. It was sicko mode.”

“That was not sicko mode.”

“Owen, how come you don’t wear a badge?”

“What?”

“Because you’re the song police?” Owen can’t help but snort out a laugh even though the comment was made at his expense. Still sharp as a tack.

Once the pair reach the front door of Owen’s ‘bachelorette pad’ as Y/n liked to call it, he sets her back on the ground albeit reluctantly as he recalls why he was carrying her in the first place. Thinking quickly on his feet, Owen forms a plan that’s more likely than not foolproof.

“Hey, Y/n/n?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is still right behind him thankfully.

“Can I have a hug?” After a few seconds of silence in the hall, Owen begins to doubt his plan until he feels the weight of his best friend leaning on his toned back. With her cheek pressed against the middle of his spine, Y/n brings her arms around his waist, clasping her hands tightly together. Her semi-public display of affection allows Owen some time to unlock his front door. Once he props the door open, Owen realizes that Y/n probably isn’t going to let go any time soon and opts to waddle through the threshold with her still attached to him. He’s able to turn around and lock them back in for the night which makes the girl begin to laugh.

“Was this your plan all along? To get me drunk so you could lock me in your apartment and hold me prisoner for the rest of my life?”

“And I would’ve gotten away with it, too...”

“If it weren’t for those meddling kids and their dog.”

True to his imagination that Y/n wasn’t letting go any time soon, Owen swivels her around his torso so that he could hold her to his side rather than support her with his back. He now has his right arm over both of her shoulders as she continues to hug her best friend. The way she leans her head onto his chest makes Owen’s heartbeat the tiniest bit faster. ‘She’s drunk, she doesn’t know what this does to you’ is the mantra blaring through Owen’s subconscious. Shaking any and all sort of romantic thoughts out of his head, he begins to lead her back to his bedroom.

Flicking the lights on proves to be a mistake once Y/n starts groaning miserably, and Owen decides the floor lamp is a better option than the overheads. Much to Owen’s surprise and relief, Y/n moves to sit on the edge of his bed on her own volition. She’s not upright for long as she collapses into the sheets of his unmade bed that contemplated neatening before leaving the house; hindsight is 20/20.

“Hmm. I like your smell,” Y/n parrots despite already bringing up the topic on the ride home.

“This is the same cologne I always use.”

“No. I like your natural smell.”

“What?”

“I was reading up about pheromones the other day. And there was this thing that said when couples like each others’ scent, it’s like a primal way of seeing if you’re immuno-compatible with someone so your offspring have the best chance for survival. It’s an evolutionary thing for the survival of our species. Ants have pheromones, too.”

Sometimes she has trouble remembering to feed herself, but leave it to Y/n to remember extensive information about pheromones whilst intoxicated. The concept is intriguing to Owen, so he proceeds to ask questions, ignoring the tug on his heart he felt after hearing her say the word ‘couples’.

“So, if I like your scent, we’re immuno-?”

“Compatible, yeah. But it’s mostly me because you can sniff out my period.”

“I can what?”

“I read that men can tell when a woman is at her most fertile because that’s when they like her smell the best. They did a study where a bunch of men were introduced to a few different scents, and without fail, the one they liked the most or would describe as ‘sexy’ or ‘attractive’ was the scent they took from the woman who was ovulating.”

Y/n continues talking about what she learned about pheromones as Owen picks up a bit of the mess around his room. She returns to the topic of ant pheromones as he digs through his surprisingly large closet for something for his friend to sleep in. His temporarily bubbly best friend also notes that he should ‘sniff her now because she’s ovulating and he would like that’ which makes him laugh into the drawers of his waist-height dresser. Returning to find her still slumped over on the bed, he pats her leg and beckons her to sit up. After Y/n’s upright again, Owen hands her his classic black ‘BEANS’ t-shirt and a pair of briefs that won’t properly fit her but will fit better than a pair of his actual pants.

“Can you put these on for me?”

“Yeah.” Owen’s conflicted with both wanting to respect Y/n’s privacy by leaving the room, and prioritizing her safety, and not leaving her unattended at any moment. He comes to a compromise which is staying by her side but turning a full 180 to face the wall of his bedroom. A couple of moments pass until Y/n begins whining frustratedly.

“Owen.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t ubns-” her words become incomprehensible as she begins to cry again and Owen turns around to find her struggling with the buttons on her shirt, her jacket long discarded on the bedroom floor. This shirt: her white, cap-sleeve crop top with a peter pan collar that she wore for anything mildly significant, this was her favorite. Owen remembers her fussing about how she ruined it only to find that she just forgot to steam it one day. So with a little heat and water, Owen had fixed the shirt like nothing ever happened, and he’d do it a million times over again if it meant he got to relive seeing the smile that graced her face for the first time again.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do the buttons.” She runs the back of her right hand against her tired eyes to wipe away her tears and Owen internally curses himself for the way the small action makes his heart flutter.

“Do you need help?”

“Yeah.”

“Listen to me, you are okay,” he sinks to kneel in front of Y/n as she sits tiredly on the edge of the bed. Owen doesn’t miss the slight tremble of his hands as he reaches up to unbutton her shirt, but he prays that she will. Through tiny sniffles and teary eyes, she watches his hands effortlessly work down the length of her shirt, each button modestly dancing between his fingertips. Once the short top is fully unbuttoned, Owen returns to his normal standing height and Y/n attempts to shrug the fabric off her body. She struggles lightly and knowing her frustration is imminent, Owen reaches down to gingerly push the sleeves off her shoulders. The light graze of his rough, calloused skin against her own skin sends electric-like shocks through the both of them; yet neither of them believed the other felt it too.

Owen hastily withdraws his hands and, without warning, Y/n quickly removes the bralette she was wearing. Owen’s eyes widen slightly at her lack of inhibition. He does his best to be a gentleman and swiftly redirects his gaze to the white ceiling fan that has all of a sudden become the most intriguing object in the universe. His lower peripheral vision indicates that she’s finally slipped the black tee over her head, but she begins sniffling more fiercely as she struggles with taking off her jeans. Owen sighs and drops to his knees once more in spite of himself, and aids his best friend in slipping the material over the length of her calves and off the tips of her toes. Hoping to speed up the process, he grabs the briefs he had brought her and unfolds them in preparation for helping her into them. His efforts are all for naught as Y/n forgoes the need for any more clothing and slides under the covers of his unmade bed. Owen then turns to leave the bedroom, opting to set up on the couch for the night before Y/n’s small voice is cutting through the comfortable silence.

“Where are you going?” He sighs,

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll get you some water and Advil for when you wake up tomorrow.” Y/n then nods acceptingly and allows her eyes to flutter closed as he leaves the room. Despite how tired she feels, Y/n won’t quite yet let herself sleep--not ‘til Owen is beside her. When he returns he sets the ibuprofen bottle on the nightstand before uncapping the Kirkland brand water bottle he had in the fridge. He coaxes her into sitting up just one more time so she can drink some of the water before falling asleep. She sits and rubs her tired eyes as she drinks and Owen has to physically force himself to look away from the adorable sight. He just wants to take care of her forever but things have always been strictly platonic between them.

The risk of making their friendship weird or awkward was just too great.

“Goodnight kid, I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Owen leaves without awaiting a response and lets out an annoyed sigh before setting himself up on the couch in his living room. He was so focused on getting Y/n to bed safely that he forgot to grab clothes for himself. Not a big deal. He simply strips down to just his underwear and climbs underneath the thick Pottery Barn throw blanket Y/n had gifted him as a housewarming gift. That and a fire extinguisher because ‘you don’t notice its absence until you need it’ she claimed. The memory makes Owen smile and he allows his eyes to close after a long day.

A long day that was about to get longer. Owen finds himself sinking further and further into sleep until he hears the padding of footsteps that are now in his living room. He’s too tired to open his eyes, and it’s not like he doesn’t already know who it is. What does surprise him, however, is the feeling of the familiar weight squeezing between the couch and his turned back.

“What are you doing?” He half mumbles into the night.

“You’re warm.”

“That was not the question, Y/n/n.” After not receiving a reply, Owen turns as best as he can to look at his friend who’s nestling her way into his sleeping arrangement for the night. “Kid-”

“I just wanna be with you.”

“Alright,” Owen sighs out of irritation, exhaustion, and a sliver of adoration before sitting up on the couch, “Come on.”

He stands up, fully expecting to have to drag her back to the bedroom, but finds relief in seeing her struggle her way off the couch. Slipping her tired hand into his unexpecting, larger one, Y/n allows her friend to lead her into the bedroom for the second time that night.

Owen considerately lifts the covers for her to climb back into before getting into the other side of the bed.

“Owen.”

“Hm?”

“Guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, kid.”

“No,” Y/n speaks in a casual tone as if she’s not divulging into her biggest emotional trepidation to date. “I love you, Owen.”

Owen can’t help the way his heart seemingly stops. The way the butterflies in his stomach are going wild. The way he wants to smile like he’s the biggest lovestruck idiot on planet Earth.

She’s drunk. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She won’t remember this tomorrow.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

She won’t remember that tomorrow.

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas@crybabyddl@kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​  @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1 @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer@sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner​ @joynerxmercer​ @juliefromaustralia @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @mrstodorooki @morganayennefertyrell

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Three]

Summary: In which the fragile state between Poe and the reader is shattered, a mission is assigned, and everything goes to hell. 

Warnings: Swearing, an actual fuck-ton of angst, light smut mentions, sad fluff, grief. WC: 14,090

To avoid too much free time you had begun working late any days that you could, making excuses to run diagnostics on your ship, tinker around or simply clean it. You left the maintenance to Ana, your lead mechanic, but knew enough to at least make yourself feel busy. The less free time you had, the less time you spent overthinking your life.

Today, you were both avoiding your thoughts as well as a specific person. Though truly there was nowhere on base he wouldn’t be able to seek you out, and your hope that staying in your flight suit in the hangar would be enough of deterrent proved futile.

The healer still showed up.

At the sound of approaching footsteps in the otherwise quiet hangar, you turned your head and instantly felt like an animal trapped in a cage. At this point, just over a week since meeting the man, you’d run out of excuses to try and encourage him, as nicely as possible, to fuck off.

Healer Rush Derrin was...annoying. To put it lightly, that is. If you were being honest, he was easily the most irritating man you’d ever met, and also the most clueless. Your initial attraction to him felt ridiculous now that you had one-failed-date and too many follow-up conversations that showcased just how self-absorbed and uninteresting the man was.

He’d found you a few days after your initial meeting, in the hangar as you had suggested to him, just before you were going to leave for dinner. You had lit up when you saw him walking over, feeling a little excited not only for time with a handsome man but also the opportunity to just talk to someone. Poe was giving you an unusually sombre silent treatment, though he did finish off reprimanding you the day after your mission fuck up. And then he was just...silent.

And you weren’t going to question it, because the less you said to one another, the better. It always felt like such hard work just trying to exist around Poe now, you were honestly grateful not to have to exchange jabs at one another. But it was also lonely; your only friend on base outside of Black team was Ana, your mechanic, who had long hours and limited free time. Temmin was always good for conversation, so you’d usually gravitate his way during the day when the opportunity arose, engage in friendly banter until Poe came along and you’d be forced to slip away. Kare was more content to give you a wide berth, treating you with respect and preferring the relationship was merely professional. You got along really well with her but could sense the lack of connection on a personal level.

So, lonely as you were, handsome as Rush was, you gladly accepted his offer to join him in the caf for dinner and treat it as a first date of sorts. At first, during the walk to the caf and waiting in line to pile your plates with dinner, you spoke casually enough that you felt the date was going fairly well. You weren’t too hung up on whether or not it would lead anywhere; it wasn’t like you were looking for anything serious at this point with anyone. You hoped it would lead to something fun, perhaps a few nights at the cantina drinking and dancing, and if you meshed well a couple of tumbles in between sheets.

But when you took a seat in a quieter section of the over large room, it was like a switch flipped for Rush and he went into ‘date’ mode and frankly, you’d wished he hadn’t. The man did not shut up about himself. He spoke over you enough times that you considered jabbing him with your fork, and just when you thought he was going to start asking you about yourself-now that you knew his fucking life story-he launched into a rant about what he wanted to do once the war was over, and on and on it went.

By the time dinner had ended and the caf was much less crowded, you were about ready to hurl yourself out the second-story window, figuring you could probably manage to tuck and roll to avoid injury that would require him to treat you, and then maybe you’d just run into the jungle for a few days.

As you pretended to listen to him ramble, your mind had wandered and you realized that you hadn’t ever needed to discourage any potential suitors before. Poe and Charlie had, in so many ways, made you set your standards high, high enough that not many dates ended up going anywhere, and you just never developed the ability to read other men, to be able to sniff out the bad eggs. Rush was a nice man, but he was also entirely not your type. And based on the way he occasionally bragged about mediocre accomplishments, you had a sneaking suspicion he would not be up to scruff in the bedroom.

You finally had to call the date off when he began talking about future second date ideas, politely cutting in to say you had an early call time and needed to call it a night. He hadn’t been fazed, merely clearing your trays before returning to the table, where you had stood up, to give you a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. You wished now you’d been more direct, thanked him for the date but admitted you weren’t interested. And you hated to think about it, but the best part of your date with Rush had been when, after turning away to walk to the exit that would take you to your wing of the base, you met a pair of familiar brown eyes from across the room. You saw Poe standing with Temmin, in the middle of a conversation, his eyes narrowed slightly in your direction, flicking between you and the retreating healer.

At least you somehow managed to annoy him, if nothing else.

But thanks to your complete lack of ability to send Rush a clear and direct message, you were awarded his regular appearance in the hangar each day following the date. Usually stopping by on his lunch, he’d chat with you amicably enough but end the conversation by asking you out again-each fucking time. You had tried the excuses of being too tired, too busy, going on a mission, and hoped he’d just give up. But he kept coming back, pulling out the works to charm you with no success.

You knew you were going to need to get it together soon and just tell him it wasn’t going to happen. You wanted to be nice about it because he was a friendly enough guy, he just wasn’t your type in the least. And you had never really needed to discourage a man before, now that you considered it. Before Charlie died, he and Poe had been by your side your whole life-and they took care of you, easily discouraging anyone you had no interest in by tossing an arm over your shoulder on nights out if you asked them to.

You’d mostly had a few casual flings, never anything serious. Even your first time was with a friend, on the eve of your departure from Yavin-4 to head to D’Qar and begin basic. You met up with an old friend, Tahla, and one thing had lead to another. It had been nice, each of you parting on good terms after what had been a pleasurable evening. One that only encouraged your high standards because Tahla had ensured you reached your peak more than once, something that you’d since learned wasn’t always a priority for male partners.

And after Charlie had died, and you’d fled D’Qar, you had tried to fill the emptiness with one-night stands. But you would only wind up feeling more lonely in the morning when they left, regardless of how good the sex had been, and none of the men had been what you had wanted. Or, what you had thought you’d wanted. You spent about a year trying and failing to fill that void with sex, only to give up on it entirely after the last man you’d spent the night with had broken the terms of your understanding and tried to continue the relationship. You hadn’t been ready to start dating, so you closed yourself off, moved to another assignment to be safe, and now it had been...a few years.

A few very lonely years.

Rush wasn’t going to be someone you kept around to date, and you really needed to get your shit together and tell him. Especially considering how he was looking at you right now, with big eyes that held a hopeful gleam.

“Evening, honey, how are you doing?”

You gave him a small smile, setting your datapad down on the step stool you had in your parking spot (you were endlessly teased for being too short to hop up into your x-wing). He was a few steps away, giving you a warm smile as he looked down at you.

“Hi, Rush,” You wiped the sleeve of your flight suit over your face tiredly, “Been a long day, I guess. How are you?”

“Just fine, just fine,” He nodded, then gestured vaguely toward you and your ship, “You’ve had a busy week, which isn’t a surprise for Black team but I hope you have some time off coming your way!”

Damn, he just had to be so nice, didn’t he? Yet, you knew you’d still be brushing him off despite wishing you could just look past his issues and let him in, a little bit, for maybe a little while. “Ha, I wish I had time off!” You lied, knowing full well that, unless a mission came in, you were going to have the following day off. “We don’t get as much vacation as you Healers do!” You teased, internally cringing because flirting wasn't going to help discourage him. Kriff!

And you saw the way his eyes widened at your gentle chide, hope flashing his expression before he smirked, “Oh, you think we get vacation, do you?” He took a step closer and you had to tilt your head back to hold his gaze, warmth pooling in your belly at his proximity. Encouraged, Rush raised a hand and gently brushed it across your cheek, and against your better judgement, your eyes fluttered closed at the small display of affection. He then dropped his hand to cup your neck, and when he spoke next it was a whisper as he had lowered his face to your level. “You know honey, even in this flight suit, you’re the sexiest woman here. Not sure you get told that enough.”

You bit your lip, heat flushing your cheeks, “Rush, I’m not sure I-“

His free hand was suddenly on your hip, distracting you from whatever you’d been about to toss out as an excuse prevent him kissing you; your eyes snapped open to find him giving you a searching look, reading the heat in your cheeks, the way you had moved just a little closer when his hand gripped your hip, and he seemed to approve entirely of your reaction. His lips ghosted over your jaw, chin, and then pressed to yours, and stars did you ever let him do it.

Suddenly, all of the excuses seemed silly because here was a nice, handsome guy telling you he thought you were sexy and giving you a hungry look that had wetness pooling in your panties before he’d even touched you. At first, this kiss was measured, soft, until you pressed your body against his and threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You felt rather than heard his low rumble of pleasure before his tongue swiped across your lips and you parted them to allow him to deepen the kiss.

In those moments, there was nothing else, just a warm and friendly man holding you close and making you feel desired. And as much as you didn’t click with Rush, the idea of his large hands on your bare skin was making you eager to leave the hangar the find comfort in the physical, to let him in just enough so that he could distract you from life with his expert touch, sturdy build, even if just for one night.

Before either of you could pull apart to suggest moving things to a more private location, the abrupt clearing of a throat followed by the drawling voice of Poe Dameron interrupted you.

“As entertaining as this is, Major, I have to interrupt.”

You sprung away from Rush in surprise, twisting to find Poe standing a few feet away, hands on his hips and an annoyed scowl fixed on you. But instead of embarrassment or irritation at being found in a compromising embrace right in the fucking hangar, you felt a surge of relief.

Because, Maker, you had been just about ready to let Rush Derrin take you to bed. What was going on with you? You knew better, and already decided against this very thing and yet the moment he touched you, you went to putty in his hands just because you were lonely? Poe’s scowl relaxed, morphing to confusion at the expression on your face before he glanced over at Rush, who actually was annoyed at the interruption.

“Commander, apologies I was just saying goodnight to the Major here, I’ll uh, leave you to it.” And he shot you a smile before hurrying off, a smile that told you he read about as much as you’d expected from your reaction to his kiss.

You were furious with yourself.

Good thing Poe was right there for you to take it out on.

“Did you need something, or do you just wander around here at night to be annoying?”

Poe huffed a breath out in a mixture of annoyance and amusement. “Didn’t realize I’d be walking in on a Corellian Soap Opera sex scene. Leia wants to see us.” He shrugged, but you froze, torn between wanting to continue being angry at Poe and the desire to laugh because hadn’t you thought Rush looked like he belonged in one of those shows when you first met him?

His words sunk in then, distracting you, “Wait, she wants to see us right now?” When Poe nodded, his expression curious as a result of your weird behaviour, you glanced down at your flight suit, “Should I change?”

“No,” Poe shook his head, turning to begin walking and so you joined him, falling into step alongside him, “She said straight away, she won’t care what you wear.”

You fell into silence after that, walking through the twisting halls of base, and though it was evening time you still passed by a lot of other Resistance fighters. You realized as you hurried along that you hadn’t spent any time with Poe outside of missions, of the hangar, and you hadn’t yet witnessed how he was treated beyond that of other pilots. 

Turns out, he was well-liked and admired, everyone you passed greeting him by name with friendly grins or flirty smiles, and even though every person also greeted you by title out of respect, you still found yourself growing increasingly annoyed.

It was certainly due to a combination of emotions and reasons, but you chose to focus on the fact the Poe Dameron was walking around D’Qar as the poster boy for the Resistance, a title that should belong to your brother. You hadn’t realized you’d scoffed aloud until Poe glanced down at you curiously, his expression hardening when he saw your frown.

“What?” It was just the two of you in this new branch of the hallway, steps away from the room where Leia was waiting. You could easily have not replied.

Instead, you sneered at Poe, “Please, I’m surprised we didn’t stop for you to sign some autographs, Commander.”

Poe stopped walking and stepped in front of you, blocking your path, “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I’m just realizing how popular you are, I suppose. Poster boy of the Resistance, I mean, that has to have a lot of perks,” You kept your voice cool despite the heat burning inside you from how angry you’d grown. “It must be a lot of fun, getting to fly all the time, fuck whoever you want, walk around with that stupid smirk...” You trailed off with a shrug, satisfaction coursing through you when his surprised look turned to irritation.

“That what you think?” His voice was low and threatening and you didn’t care in the least.

“I’m not surprised, really. You’re like a celebrity, and without Charlie around to keep you from growing too big for your pants I guess it’s only expected you’d become the biggest player on the base,” His eyes turned to ice as you spoke, “Bet you can just smile at a woman and end up getting a blow-“

Poe moved so quickly you had no time to react, your anger clouding your defensive abilities. With no other noise or people around, you heard the sharp draw of breath he pulled in as he slammed you back against the hallway wall, his grip on your arms preventing you from hitting hard enough to cause pain, but it certainly shut you up. You gaped up at Poe as he gave you his worst look, his breathing hitched in fury.

You had finally gone too far.

And isn’t that what you had wanted?

“(y/n), do you-seriously, you think I just?” He broke off, his anger preventing him from speaking proper basic and his grip on your arms tightened, “You think I just walk around fucking everything that moves and having a blast every day? You think I’m fucking happy?”

You shouldn’t reply, you knew. You would be better to stop, to listen to the twinge of guilt now in the back of your mind, the little voice that was asking you if you’d ever made Poe this angry before and questioning why you were doing it now.

You instead decide to pull on the string a little more and see what you could unravel.

“Aren’t you? I’m not saying you didn’t love Charlie, but you have to admit without him and me around you did pretty fucking good for yourself-“

“Shut up,” He growled, suddenly pressing his body to yours and lowering his head to meet your eyes, preventing you from pulling away or even looking anywhere but into his dark glare. “Maybe you’re a little worked up because I just interrupted your foreplay session, but I need you to shut the fuck up. You don’t know anything about me, about my life now or what I’ve gone through. You want to be mad, hate me for what I did, that’s fine, I deserve it. But that’s it, that’s the line.”

“Oh, you get to decide where the line is all of a sudden?”

Poe scoffed, “You got what you obviously wanted, (y/n), you pissed me off. Can you just leave it? Because you really don’t want to hear about what my life was after you abandoned m-everything here.”

You gave a harsh laugh, “Fine, sorry to have insinuated you’re a heartless manwhore, I mean it’s not like you blamed me for my own brothers' death at the fucking funeral!”

Your words seemed to hit Poe as if you’d slapped him; he flinched and jerked away from you, taking a few steps back before raising a shaky hand to rub his face. When he looked back at you where you stood still against the wall, you faltered a little at the genuine hurt in his expression.

After staring at one another for a minute, Poe finally pointed at you and his voice came out more clearly than you’d expected. “You don’t know anything. Not about me, or what my life was after you left, or what kind of person I am now,” He took a steadying breath, walked to the nearby door and paused with his hand on the handle, “Just like I don’t know anything about you. Which is why when I see my second in command making out shamelessly with a healer in the fucking hangar, I don’t comment. I don’t know you, and you sure as hell don’t know me.”

With those final words, he swept through the door, not bothering to wait for you and you held still until the door shut behind him, letting out a sob as guilt-wracked your body. 

You regretted pulling the string.

-

Before meeting Poe at the cantina that night, Charlie mentioned too casually that Poe hadn’t been going home with women for some time. Not since you had officially joined Gold team, which he was insisting was because of you. That it was always you when it came to Poe Dameron. You brushed your brother off with a roll of your eyes, keen to avoid the direction his words were leading you. And it wasn’t as if you hadn’t noticed Poe’s abrupt change in behaviour, how he had stopped slipping off partway through evenings at the cantina to flirt with someone who had been giving him eyes, maybe dance a little before they would wander off, no doubt in the direction of one of their rooms.

It hadn’t exactly bothered you, he was free to enjoy himself as much as you were, and he never left you alone, never ditched you when you were having a bad day. You wondered what was going on with him, naturally, but didn’t ask and certainly didn’t want to discuss it with Charlie.

Poe was already at your usual table when you walked into the cantina, and his eyes seemed to light up when he spotted you. Trying not to let that go to your head, you weaved through the crowd with Charlie right on your tail, which was a good thing because his bulk and intimidating appearance meant that people hurried out of your way before you had to even ask.

As you moved, Poe’s eyes never left your face and you wondered if he sensed the way he was making your heart flutter, how your stomach was full of butterflies. Your mind also replayed recent memories, now with Charlie’s words in your head and Poe’s eyes melting you from across the room, you could see something...was different. 

How he’d been the one to walk you to your room every night you all went out, and even though you’d just spent an hour or two together he’d linger for a while, lounge with you on your bunk and chat until one of you yawned. How often you both would switch to a private channel to talk during training or low-stakes missions. And when...when was the last time you had gotten yourself your morning caf? You hadn’t realized, he had met you outside of your room nearly every morning, two steaming cups in hand, for a while now.

And the subtle touches. You grew up with Poe, and he’d always been an affectionate enough person, but Charlie’s timing had been right-you joined Gold Team and Poe’s behaviour had shifted, not just in the day-to-day, but also with how he seemed to operate around you. A hand on your back, fingers brushing your long hair out of your face, the endless hugs-the kind that made you feel safe and whole, each time.

When you reached the table and broke eye contact to take a seat next to Poe, his arm dropped to the back of your chair casually. Had he been doing that long? You always sat next to him, but you hadn’t realized...

Your brother flashed you a knowing look that Poe missed because his eyes were still on you. You fought the urge to frown over at him.

“You look like you’re still up in the clouds, sweetheart.” Poe tossed you his signature grin, and you smiled back at him while simultaneously noting how the grin didn’t reach his eyes the same way it used to. It was genuine, yes, but there was a depth to his gaze that seemed like he was a little self-conscious, unsure.

You raised the drink he’d had waiting for you in thanks, “One of those days, I suppose.”

If he thought your response was inadequate, he didn’t say. He merely nodded, eyes searching your expression for a moment before he looked away to take a sip of his own drink. Charlie pulled him into a conversation then and you fell silent, your thoughts swirling again.

You watched Poe, for a while, out of the corner of your eye. You picked up on how his eyes didn’t wander around the room like they used to, even though YOU noticed women looking over, trying to catch his eye. His arm remained behind you, though he wasn’t touching you, the thick design of the chair allowing you your own space...but actually, you don’t think you would mind if he did touch you, just casually.

Well, where the fuck had that thought come from?

Your train of thought startled you so much that you were grateful when you glanced at your drinks and found each of you was getting low. You leaned forward and tapped your glass, interrupting what was now Charlie and Poe’s version of a heated disagreement (so basically they insulted each other back and forth while laughing), and said, “I’ll get us refills.”

You were up and out of your seat before either could object, and you determinedly did not look back at your table. You knew Poe would be looking at you. You were scared of how that made you feel.

The bartender was busy making drinks for a group of loud women you recognized as mechanics, all out to let loose-as they so deserved. You knew they had long hours, and you watched them all, already tipsy and giggling too much, while you waited your turn. You were leaning against the bar on both elbows when a voice to your right caught your attention, saying Poe’s name. You didn���t react physically and probably would have tuned back into the drunk mechanic's funny banter had that voice not been so full of vitriol.

“I hate seeing him out having a good time, wrapped around the Horn girl like a fucking lapdog.”

You stiffened, though it was less from offence (because whoever this was wasn’t worth your time of day) but more because she obviously hadn’t realized you were standing behind them.

Another woman laughed, “I think he’s pouting, can’t get into her pants obviously. You should have made him work harder for it, Liv, maybe he’d be your lap dog instead.”

The first woman scoffed, “Look, he was good for a couple of fun nights, don’t get me wrong. The dude is seriously packing, and he knows what he’s doing, too. But even when I did have his attention it wasn’t all there. Pretty sure he’s hung up on her.”

“And probably will be for a while, she’s a stuck-up little thing. Dameron can’t be very bright if he lets her keep him wrapped around her pinky like that.”

“He’s a real idiot, that’s for sure. Good thing he’s handsome, clearly there’s not a lot going on-“

Abandoning your perch at the bar, you swung around and roughly poked the back of the shoulder nearest to you, furious, “Excuse me.”

Both women turned and you recognized the blonde one, she had hung out a few nights at the cantina with Poe in the weeks before you finished basic. She must have been one of the last women to go home with Poe.

At first, they were both frowning, curious, until they looked down at you. You usually didn’t mind how short you were, but when trying to glare at a couple of long-legged, beautiful women, you suddenly hated how it made you feel small. You jerked your chin up, “You’re speaking quite rudely about a superior, you know. I could report you for that alone.”

The blonde, Liv, glared at you, “I’m not saying anything new, sweetie. Most people are saying it, actually.” You remembered then that Liv worked in the comms office, a notoriously gossip-heavy section of the Resistance.

“Doesn’t make it any less pathetic, though, does it?” You jabbed, your anger increasing. Liv scoffed, setting her drink down on the bar and taking a step closer to you, a little too close to be anything other than a veiled threat. You held your ground, unfazed.

“Look, sweetie, you want to play dedicated little teammate instead of admitting you’re just jealous of me, that’s fine. But don’t get in my face about it, I’m not interested.”

“Funny,” You deadpanned, voice low, “And here I thought we both knew it was you who was jealous of me.”

Liv jerked back slightly in surprise, giving you her worst look, “Speaking as the one who has gotten to more than sample his goods-and let me tell you, you’re totally missing out because he does knows how to make a woman mean it when she screams his na-“

SMACK

Liv stumbled back a few steps, a hand reaching up to touch her tender cheek in disbelief, the skin already reddening from the impact of your full palm slap. You were more surprised in yourself, you hadn’t realized just how angry you were until it coiled and snapped at her insinuations. Still, you felt a rush of satisfaction that faded to concern when the much taller women straightened up and stalked forward, eyes dark.

“You little bitch!”

Before you could begin to back away-keen to avoid an actual fist fight-you felt a sudden presence behind you, Liv stopping short in her advance the same moment a familiar, muscled arm dropped over your shoulder. Her brows shot up in surprise before a simpering little smile appeared.

“Liv,” Poe drawled, his voice light and almost friendly, but the grip on your arm gave way to you that he wasn’t as calm as he appeared. When you glanced up at him, his jaw was tight, a muscle twitching there, and his expression was cold. Colder than ice. You wondered how Liv hadn’t frozen just from having that look directed her way. “So sorry to interrupt, but figured I’d step in before you do anything you’ll regret.”

Liv raised her hands as if in surrender, then pointed at you, “Not sure if you saw, Poe, but the little brat just slapped me.” Her fury was funny to you now. You’d clearly injured her delicate pride more than anything.

The arm around your shoulder shifted as Poe pushed the braid that had fallen behind it back in front, where you usually let your hair sit. It was a simple gesture, both casual and intimate, enough to have Liv’s expression fall.

He tightened his arm around you again before replying in a low voice. “Thankfully, I was lucky enough to see that. It’s officially now my favourite memory, ever. Proudest, too, seeing as I taught her how to hit back at bullies” With his free arm, Poe raised his hand and pointed it at Liv, who was looking at him wide-eyed, “Now get the fuck away from us, before you really piss me off.”

You had to bite back a laugh at how quickly Liv and her silent friend scampered away, leaving the cantina completely with their heads low. You turned to look up at Poe and thank him, faltering when you saw him gazing at you intently, concern and worry replacing the cold glare. “Poe?”

“Are you okay? What did she say to you?” He spun so that you were now directly in front of him, both his hands falling to gently hold your arms. Your heart was about ready to beat its way right out of your chest over the intensely protective and concerned expression he had.

You reached up and did something that always worked on Poe when he was upset; gently running your thumb along his jaw, just a few times, before you dropped it again. It used to feel like second nature. Now it felt...wonderfully intimate. It worked though, his shoulders relaxing. 

“I’m alright, thank you.”

Poe swallowed before throwing you a grin, “I don’t think I’ve seen you that angry since we were teenagers, sweetheart. And that was a nice hit.”

You laughed, shrugging, a little bolt of pleasure warming you when he pulled you a little closer, wrapping an arm around you. “She was being exceptionally rude. Guess I’m not in the mood for it tonight.”

Poe chuckled warmly, and you felt it rumble in his chest because you were pressed against him. Quite suddenly, the urge to reach up and just touch his hair a little, stroke his cheek, maybe run your thumb across his lower lip-

What was going on with you?

As much as you were completely confused at yourself, you didn’t miss how his laughter met his eyes-the warm honey gazing into yours almost adoringly. You finally looked away and turned, glancing at your table for your brother. Charlie, however, was gone. Poe, still with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, noticed where you were looking and laughed again.

“Charlie is otherwise occupied by none other than Vanya, who despite my initial skepticism does, in fact, exist.”

You snorted, “In that case, I think we can leave unless you wanted to stay-?

Poe cut you off, giving you a little smirk, “Nope, I’ll walk you home, sweetheart.”

And his arm didn’t drop as you made your way out of the cantina.

Nor did it drop when you were walking the halls, or entering your door code to your bunk.

It still didn’t drop when you both fell onto your bed, laughing over the look on Liv’s face after you had slapped her and how quickly she and her friend had run out of the cantina.

That arm remained securely around you the whole night, as you and Poe talked for hours, reminiscing about Yavin-4, exchanging banter over who was the better pilot, even imaging what life would be like once the war was over.

And Poe’s hold only tightened when you nodded off, laying the wrong way across your bed and tucked against his chest. Loosening only when he too fell asleep, his final thoughts that he would tell you how he felt after tomorrow’s mission decommissioning a fuelling yard in the Sanbra Sector. Because he wasn’t sure he could pretend otherwise any longer.

+

General Organa had noticed the thick tension between you and Poe the moment you joined him in front of her, your face flushed but otherwise neutral. Her eyes had flicked between you both before commending you on how well you worked together and then explaining that she had a mission.

Normally, a top-secret, high stakes recon mission would thrill Poe straight to the bone, but upon hearing the finer details he felt his smile tighten and his excitement waning. Of course, mere moments after finally exploding on one another, you and Poe were assigned the task of taking a cruiser to a planet in the outer rim. A three-day trip minimum there, where you would be inspecting a base long since abandoned by the Galactic Empire after it had fallen. An outpost that, once cleared, would be of incredible use to the Resistance.

Upon learning that she needed you to leave first thing in the morning, Poe thanked the General, promised her the best teamwork, and then swept quickly from the room. He went straight to his to pack, glancing at his wrist comm for the time. He decided that after he was finished preparations he would go to the cantina for a drink.

Stars, if he wasn't just assigned such an important mission he would be having several drinks. After what had just transpired with you, he was reeling and in need of a distraction. He was angry, yes, but mostly he was hurting.

You’d been aiming to get a reaction out of him for a while now. Giving him the cold shoulder outside of missions to throw him off balance. It was the combination of finding you pressed against the healer, who had had his hands all over you, and then hearing your accusations...he just snapped, something he wasn’t prone to doing and yet you always seemed to pull the strongest emotions and reactions from Poe, even when you weren’t trying to.

And it wasn’t so much the scorn with which you described his status as a poster boy, but rather the genuine belief you held that Poe’s life had been good without Charlie and you. As much as you were trying to piss him off, you still believed what you were saying, and Poe hadn’t known what to do, how to make you see that everything, everything fell apart after he lost you.

Fuck, he knew it was his fault-he had said what he said and then he’d left you alone in the dark, but it still floored him to hear how little you thought of him now. You didn’t just hate him, he’d realized, you also believed he hated you, that he was living a happy life and didn’t spend every day wishing his life was different. He had fucked things up between you and him so well, that you never realized just how much he loved you.

Loves you.

Because the truth was, as much as he didn’t like you right now, there wasn’t a single thing in the entire galaxy that could stop Poe Dameron from loving you.

And he didn’t know...what that love was anymore, what it meant or what he wanted from it. He was happy to leave it in the background, to let you despise him until you said the things you did tonight. What you said told Poe that you didn’t know anything, despite growing up together. You still refused, to this very day, to look back at your relationship with him and recognize that it was never anything but the start of something millions would die to have. An epic love story, one that generations to follow would have spoken of.

You never saw it, and he’d failed to show you. And now you were both just fragments of those star-crossed idiots, and Poe had never felt more lost or alone.

+

Aware that he had a good week alone with you ahead of him, Poe hurriedly changed and made his way to the cantina after packing, intent on enjoying one good drink with Temmin to help clear his mind. Socializing in a loud space was the perfect way to prepare for what was sure to be a stony silence-filled week.  

The cantina was busy when he arrived, his timing synced with the late-night crowd. It only took him a moment to spot Temmin, though, and he made his way across the room, raising a hand in hello when his friend spotted him approaching. He turned, signalling to a nearby waitress for another drink for Poe, before clapping him on the shoulder.

“Commander! Nice of you to join us!” Temmin called merrily, and Poe already felt his tension fading, his friends genuine kindness always appreciated.  

“Thought I’d better keep an eye on you idiots,” Poe replied, thanking the waitress for his drink and winking at his laughing friends as he took a swig. He fell into an easy banter with the others, sipping his drink slowly as he would only indulge in the one on the eve of such an important mission. After a while, his drink half-finished, Poe found himself glancing around the room quite suddenly, his senses on alert.

It was then that he spotted you. And no wonder he’d been wary a moment before, as his eyes must have gone past you twice before they snapped back, realizing that the long-haired woman in khakis and a navy shirt was you. He hadn’t seen your hair down since you had been back, and it was longer now than he thinks you’d ever grown it. The braids you normally weaved into your low buns left the long locks wavy, and you weren’t used to wearing it down as you kept self-consciously brushing it out of your face.  

You were standing with your friend, Ana, a few other mechanics Poe knew mostly by their faces. Your friend was laughing at whatever you were saying, hard enough that you joined in and even though he couldn’t hear you from across the room, he knew exactly how genuine your giggles were just from your expression.

Poe looked away, flushing with a mixture of emotions he preferred not to examine.

His hand roamed around the room before landing on a tall figure making his way toward you. Rush had a grin on his face that suggested pleasant surprise at your presence at the cantina. Remembering the weird look of relief that had been on your face when Poe had walked into the hangar earlier, he wondered if maybe you weren’t as into Rush as you had seemed in that particular moment.

Maybe he was already worked up before your argument if he was really honest with himself. Something about having to watch from afar all week as Rush popped in every afternoon to flirt with you, then to walk in on him pressed against you, it had pissed him off. It had also brought forth that same protectiveness he’d felt when the stormtrooper had punched you, which only served to confuse Poe further. He’d swiftly stuffed those thoughts back as he’d told you Leia was waiting to speak to you both, only for them to tumble around in the back of his mind until you’d crushed his patience to bits.

Poe watched as the healer picked his way toward you. Glancing at you, he saw Ana stepping around you to move toward the direction of the fresher, leaving you standing alone as the other mechanics seemed to have already melted away to have a separate conversation. You sighed, your smile faltering a little, before taking a sip of your drink, your eyes raising up and immediately zeroing in on Rush. His suspicions about your level of interest in the healer were confirmed when you blanched, your eyes casting around you and widening in horror when you realized you were entirely alone. And then you fixed the fakest smile he’d ever seen on your face before turning to greet Rush, a stiff set to your shoulders.  

When the healer reached you and greeted you by way of running his hand down the bare skin of your arm, Poe stiffened. You greeted him in return but took a half step back, eyes peering up at the much taller man with a modicum of fear. Suddenly, Poe’s mind took him back to years and years ago, on Yavin-4, when boys would hit on you and you’d glance toward Poe or Charlie for help and they would be right there, without question.

Now, you looked so alone that Poe’s instincts took over, Charlie’s voice in his head saying, ‘Flyboy and I will always take care of you, Kid.’ And he abruptly stood, abandoning Temmin and his drink, and marched across the room. His anger for the earlier argument was long forgotten and Poe almost felt seventeen years old again.

“Why don’t we continue our earlier fun somewhere quieter, honey?” He was saying, his voice carrying over the music. You had been focused on Rush until Poe was just a few steps away, your head jerking to meet his gaze in surprise.

And unless Poe was mistaken, he saw a little relief there too.

Without preamble, Poe grabbed you by the shoulder and gently pulled you back a few steps, moving you away from Rush. “Sorry pal, not happening.” His interjection was in vast contrast to how Charlie would have done it. He’d have smiled, sauntered up, made it friendly. Poe pointedly conveyed no warmth, no room for argument.

Still, the Healer didn’t get the hint. His brows furrowing, he tilted his head to look at Poe, who stood a few inches taller. “Didn’t realize you had any say in the matter, Command-“

“Don’t care,” Poe replied easily, “Buzz off, and read the room-she’s clearly not interested in you.”

“Now wait just a-“

“Actually Rush,” You hurriedly cut him off, your hand reaching up to grab the one Poe still had on your shoulder, “He’s right. I-I’m not interested, I’m sorry. And we have an early call tomorrow, so we’re just leaving. Goodnight.” You spun away before Rush could reply, your grip on Poe’s hand slipping to his wrist as you dragged him out of the cantina.

Poe spared a glance over his shoulder to look at Rush, who was standing in the same spot looking a little dumbfounded. He bit back a grin before looking forward and watching you pull him along. Poe could feel your hand burning his skin where you held his wrist. After making it halfway toward base, you stopped walking and let go, your arms crossing as you peered up at Poe.

“I don’t need you to do that, Dameron.” Your voice was low, your gaze sharp. Poe wanted to flinch under the intensity of it but instead found himself standing to his full height and matching your stance, returning your glare right back.

He scoffed, “Charlie would have-“

“Yes,” You cut in, taking a step closer to Poe and lowering your voice further, “Charlie would have. He always would have, that’s what big brothers do. But you’re just my Commander, and you don’t get to step in on my social life.”

The words cut, but Poe had heard you say worse to him. He flooded with exasperation, “Major, are you telling me you would prefer to head back inside and let Rush fucking Derrin flirt with you until he inevitably passes out before you can say ‘do you have a condom?’”

You gave a humourless laugh, “Oh, please don’t think that just because any woman you set your eyes on is keen to lay under you that it means the rest of us love to go home with random idiots, regardless of whether we make out with them or not,” You jabbed a finger into Poe’s chest as you spoke, your words laced with venom, “I hold myself to higher standards, and I definitely don’t need the Resistance playboy inserting himself on my behalf.” With that, you spun and stormed away, toward base.

Poe had no option but to follow you. He lived next to you, he was going in the same direction.

Still, when you glanced over your shoulder as you entered the doors that led to the ranking official's dorms and saw Poe a few steps away, your anger seemed to snap and you let the door shut behind you in his face.

“Sweetheart,” Poe drawled as he stepped inside, still only a few paces behind you, “Be as mean as you like, I don’t care. But save the anger for the real fight, it isn’t going to work on me again.”

When your only reply was a frustrated groan, Poe smirked to himself. He watched as you flipped your middle finger over your shoulder before disappearing into your room, the door slamming closed with finality.

His smirk faded then, as he began to consider exactly why he’d gotten so worked up, and whether it really had anything to do with Charlie.

MISSION DAY SIX

Poe was completely numb.

Numb with shame. Regret. Disgust for his actions. Still, he remained protective at your side, following you through the jungle as you avoided looking his way. Knowing you were just as eager to get back to the ship as he was, and yet keenly aware that it meant three days alone together in the cramped space.

At least it would give you both time to come up with a believable explanation for your delay in return. An entire day lost, yet you’d already agreed with one another that the real reason wasn’t going in the mission report. If you never spoke of what happened again, it still wouldn’t be enough to curb the pain, the fucking guilt he was feeling.

Poe had been wrecked, mentally obliterated beyond repair. How he wished he could have died-if he could have ensured you wouldn’t have been harmed he would have gladly let himself die. You promised him it was alright, that you were alright, and yet Poe knew there was no coming back from this.

No, now everything had changed. In one night, it had all changed.

MISSION DAY ONE

The morning of departure for the top-secret mission had been smooth, but entirely silent, between Poe and you. He was glad you worked well enough together to not need to speak. With merely hand signals and grunts, you successfully managed to depart D’Qar and slip into space.

Once safely in hyperspace, Poe left you alone in the cockpit to engage BB8 for auto-piloting the cruiser, secretly relieved when you didn’t come into the small cabin once you’d completed the task. Content to give you as wide a berth as he could in the tiny ship, Poe spent the first few hours of travel lounging on his bunk, reading.

Poe was used to being alone in his x-wing, even if there was a conversation over comms, it was always just him and BB8. But the planet was far enough away that you needed to take a ship built for longer journeys. This meant brushing against one another more often than either of you would have liked, for a few days more than was ideal. Especially given the current climate of your relationship.

It meant sleeping on bunk beds, Poe one the top bunk because he could easily climb up with his height advantage over you. As second in command, you were tasked with ensuring Poe and yourself were fed, watered, and debriefed on the little known about the planet where you were heading. It had been during the mission the week prior, where you had been hit by the Storm Trooper, that BB8 had stolen the data needed to find this outpost.

Poe’s duties were to keep an eye on the ship status, update the mission report and study whatever materials you sent his way to prepare, until arriving at the destination. And to ensure that his team worked well together, which was why he was going to try and walk around on eggshells.

It was when he was warming his dinner rations the first day that he realized you hadn’t ever come out of the cockpit, not for lunch or even a trip to the fresher. With a sigh, he warmed a ration for you and carried both into the cockpit. You glanced up when he entered, your frown morphing into suspicious surprise when he handed you your plate and drink wordlessly. He managed to sit down in the pilot’s seat and get himself comfortable before you spoke.

“Did you poison it?”

Poe rolled his eyes and glanced toward you, his eyes falling to the datapad you had resting on one knee. You were reading a newspaper from a planet he’d never heard of.

“Yes.” He replied swiftly, before pointing at the tablet, “How’d you get that?” His eyes narrowed when you smirked.

“Seriously?” You replied, taking a bite of dinner and dropping your gaze back to the article you had been reading, attempting to brush him off.

Poe scoffed, “Did you ask MY droid to load that on there for you?”

When you looked back at Poe, your brows were raised in surprise, “Did you really not notice BB8 in my room when you walked by this morning?”

You gave him an exasperated look when he shrugged because truthfully his mind had wandered when he’d opened his door that morning. Yours was open as a service droid was carrying out your supplies to take to the ship. You had glanced up when Poe moved into the hall, shot him a glare and then returned to whatever you had been doing crouched on the ground, which he now supposed must have been taking the newspaper data from BB8.

He hadn’t noticed his droid because his eyes had immediately fallen on the corkboard above your desk, where you had posted several photos, the largest of which was the same one he tapped every morning before leaving his room.

You frowned when he didn’t reply straight away; Poe tore his gaze from yours to look at his food. “Had other things on my mind,” He finally said, taking a large bite of his meal and speaking with his mouth full, he added, “And ask next time you want to have my droid do you a favour.”

In response, you merely gave a small, cold laugh, returning to your article. Silence fell between Poe and you again. Eventually, he finished eating and decided to head to bed and read until you came out of the cockpit. He took your plate from you wordlessly, not lingering to find out if you thanked him.

A few hours later, you slipped quietly out of the cockpit and made your way to the fresher, where he heard you have a quick shower before getting ready for bed. Poe was reclined on the top bunk, comfortably laying on both his and your pillows when you emerged, and he bit back a smile as he waited for you to look at your bunk.

You sighed. “Can I have my pillow back, please?” Your voice was tight and Poe smirked, aware that he was decidedly not walking on eggshells at that moment.

He sat up, grabbing the top pillow, “Well since you’ve asked so polite-“ Poe broke off as he looked down at you, his gaze dropping below yours. He gripped the pillow in one hand as surprise swept through him upon seeing what you were wearing to bed. It was one of Charlie’s old shirts.

He’d recognize it anywhere because Charlie wore that shirt all the time; it was one of his favourites. It had been a gift from you though Poe couldn’t remember the occasion. His heart constricting at the sight of you dwarfed in your dead older brother's shirt, Poe let out a quiet breath, at a loss for words. The shirt had a few holes in it from being worn so many times.

“Kriff, my face is up here, asshole!” You snapped, and Poe was abruptly pulled from his thoughts. Meeting your angry gaze and then registering your words, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Honey,” He drawled, using the nickname he’d heard Rush call you the night before. When your face pinched with fury he knew he’d hit his mark. Poe jumped down from the top bunk, carelessly tossing your pillow behind him before taking a measured step toward you. “I recognize the shirt, that’s all.”

Glaring up at Poe, you flashed your white teeth before replying, “You recognize my shirt, so you stare at my chest for a solid minute?” Crossing your arms, you let out a humourless laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

Poe bristled, “Damn, you really have me cast as the worst kind of villain, don’t you? Poe Dameron, Rebel fuck boy. Poe Dameron, pervert with no fucking soul or moral code,” He was seething, leaning over you now, getting just as worked up as he’d promised himself he’d avoid. He gestured at your shirt vaguely, “Poe Dameron, sees a woman in a shirt and must be staring at her tits. Couldn’t possibly be that I see you wearing my dead best friend's old shirt and have any human feelings about that, right (y/n)? Because I ruined us,” He pointed first at you, then to himself, “It means that I don’t miss Charlie, don’t ever think about him, don’t have happy memories that make me sad.”

You were frowning up at Poe as he yelled, a mixture of surprise and confusion evident in your expression. For a moment, you both just stared at one another, and Poe thought you might be at a loss of how to respond. Until you did. Of course, you fucking did.

“You are the villain. You said what, the other day, that I abandoned you? How do you-I left after you deserted me!” Your voice was shaky with emotion, “You weren’t there for me for the funeral, and then you completely broke my heart and just walked away. Got into your ship and fucking disappeared,” Your voice cracked, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes; you hastily wiped them away, “Left me, all alone. I didn’t leave right away, Poe. I packed, I asked for a new assignment off-planet, and you still were just fucking gone. So I left, and you think it’s unfair of me to think of you as the villain?”

“Do you think I didn’t regret everything I fucking said the moment I said it? That I don’t know-didn’t know-how badly I fucked up?” Poe shouted back, “I tried to find you! You blocked me from being able to find you and tell you I was sorry. Didn’t even think you would forgive me, but you still deserved to hear me beg for forgiveness and work to make it up to you,” Poe took a step back from you, running a hand tiredly over his face, “What I did was the worst thing I’ve ever done, my biggest regret. I didn’t mean anything I said to you, I lo-I took out my guilt, my grief, on you and I know it was wrong. But you can’t twist everything I do now to fit into that version of me, it’s not fair.”

“Fair? Right, okay, I’m not being fair.”

“No,” Poe’s voice came out in a near whisper as he glared at you, “No, you’re acting like a brat, ever since you came back, and I’m kind of over it.”

Your eyes widened in fury, but before you could answer Poe swiftly stepped around you and shut himself into the fresher. He didn’t want to fight any longer, and he knew you would just be going back and forth at one another all night, neither of you willing to be wrong. So he turned on the water and had a brief rinse off under cold water and hoped tomorrow would be a little less terrible.

MISSION DAY SIX

You could feel Poe’s eyes on the side of your head as you walked. As much as you wanted to turn around and ask him to stop because you could basically hear his horrified, guilty thoughts screaming at you, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

You were struggling with your own mortification, jumping from memories of what had happened to concerns about what would happen next. What could even happen next?

How things had been between Poe and you up to yesterday could no longer be the case, not after this mission. You just didn’t know what that meant now.

As much as you considered, during the two-hour walk back to the ship, leaving D’Qar and Black Squadron once you returned from the mission, you knew you could never do that. That you wouldn’t do it.

You couldn’t run again, but how the hell were you going to stay?

Everything had changed last night. And you could remember every single detail of how.

MISSION DAY THREE

You woke first on the morning of the third day in hyperspace, blearily looking at your wrist comm to see it was fairly early morning back in D’Qar. With a small sigh, you stretched your body before climbing out of the lower bunk and stepping across the small cabin into the fresher. When you emerged, Poe was still fast asleep and you set about making caf as quietly as possible, knowing the longer he slept meant that much more time for you to enjoy peaceful silence.

As much as you’d both been on eggshells around each other since your latest fight, the tension and silence were thick and heavy and draining. As angry as you’d gotten as he shouted at you, guilt had wormed its way into your mind the more he had let slip how much he’d been hurting. The truth was, you hadn’t wanted to believe he could be hurting, preferring to close him into a box where he was simply a terrible person, through and through, when you knew that wasn’t Poe Dameron at all.

He had done a terrible thing, yes. But he wasn’t evil, he didn’t deserve the vitriol, the cold shoulder, as much as you dished it out these past few days, did he? On the other hand, you felt if you let up on that treatment entirely, it would be akin to forgiving him, letting him off the hook for his fuck up.

You thought that you were treating him how he deserved to be. You had convinced yourself he was the villain. When he’d called you a brat, it hit you a moment later that you were being a huge fucking brat. He didn’t deserve your friendship, forgiveness, but he also didn’t deserve how you’d treated him the past several days.

You sat in the cockpit leisurely reading another newspaper BB8 had loaded onto your datapad before the mission. Poe had grumbled about it, but you had always enjoyed reading highlights from around the galaxies, it was like a little guilty pleasure for you. You lounged for half an hour, sipping your caf and enjoying an article that discussed the art of moisture farming before you heard movement in the cabin.

You strained your ears, listening for Poe to enter the fresher. Once you heard that door swoosh closed, you abandoned your article to head into the cabin and begin packing your bags for arrival. Based on your best calculations, you’d be arriving early the next morning and wanted everything to be ready to hit the ground running. You set the two bags onto the foot of your bunk and then dumped all of the supplies in several armfuls over the rest of your bed.

You were mindlessly sorting, doing inventory and packing everything when Poe eventually emerged from the fresher. He said nothing, quietly getting his caf before heating a ration.

You hadn’t eaten yet yourself, so you decided you would get your ration once he’d gone into the cockpit to avoid you. You were caught by surprise when you turned from his pack, where you’d just stuffed in his protective outerwear, to see your ration warmed up on a plate, set onto your bunk next to you.

You stared at the food for a moment before glancing up just in time to see the stiff set of Poe’s shoulders disappear as the cockpit door closed. You blinked a few times before moving to sit down and eat your breakfast, the sudden tightness in your chest ensuring the food tasted of nothing.

-

You cleared your throat awkwardly when you entered the cockpit later that afternoon. Poe hadn’t emerged and as much as you were glad for space, you knew he needed to eat. And you kept thinking of how he’d ensured you had your breakfast when you were heating your lunch.

He didn’t look around when you came in, his eyes remaining on the book open in his lap until you held out his plate of rations into his line of sight. He gave you a weary look before taking the plate, “Thank you.”

You shrugged, then took your seat. He watched you in surprise but didn’t comment. “I think, um. We’ll be arriving early tomorrow and I think we should just go over a few things now if that’s alright?” You glanced up at Poe when he didn’t reply straight away, only to find him curiously searching your face, confused by your near timid behaviour. You swallowed uncomfortably.  

He turned to his food after a moment, spooning a large amount into his mouth before nodding at you. With that, you began to go over a summary of your notes and data on the planet, the outpost and surrounding jungle conditions. Poe listened as he ate, occasionally nodding his understanding.

“If we have to hike in, I should warn you the time zone we are landing in is at its peak of summer. So it’ll be extremely muggy during the day.” You finished speaking abruptly and Poe glanced up from his food and met your eyes.

“Well as much as I like a good hike, let’s try to get as close to the outpost as possible.”

You hummed in response, looking away as a heavy silence fell between you. Entirely at a loss, you simply sat together for a while before eventually, you decided to do weapons check in preparation for the next day.

When you stood, you had to brush by Poe. Instead of continuing to avoid looking at you, he peered up as you moved, his eyes tired, and you felt something tighten within you. Heat crawled up your neck and you hurriedly ducked out of the cockpit.

MISSION DAY FOUR

Excitement had overtaken Poe, as it usually did when a mission was well underfoot. This was compounded further by the knowledge that, very shortly, he’d be set free from the stifling tension of the ship. It had drained his mental energy enough that even if you’d told him that he had to wade through molten lava to get to the outpost, he’d happily take the lead. Naked. Blindfolded. He just needed out.

You had everything prepared the night before, so all that needed to happen in the early hours of the morning of arrival was pulling out of hyperspace, approaching the outpost and scanning for a landing zone. The base wasn’t constructed to have an outdoor hangar, as it would defeat the purpose of being hidden, but Poe had hoped there would be a spot somewhere around the facility. Given the abandoned state of the planet, however, he didn’t let his hopes climb too high.

He’d heard your frustration as you ran the ground scans and came up short, your breath huffing out in disappointment. He let you work through it, knowing you were more than capable of finding the next best option, though he couldn’t agree more that it was a letdown there would be the need for a hike. The longer the mission took, the longer you were stuck alone together.

You sat up straight once you’d found an area to land, throwing Poe a triumphant look as you pointed on the radar. “This will do, Commander. Two-hour hike, along a river that will provide a decent nav-point, look it leads straight through the outpost.” Your finger traced along a line excitedly.

Poe leaned over to look closely, examining the map and seeing no flaw in your plan, not that he thought he would. It was his job to double-check, to make the final call, but with you, as his second in command, it was hard to justify the need to do it-you were simply that good. He drew in a breath to reply only for his brain to stutter as your freshly showered, peachy scent filled his head.

With a slight frown, Poe leaned away before speaking, keeping his eyes fixed on the map. “Set the course, Major.”

“Commander.” You agreed, setting to it. Poe left the cockpit then, heading to gear up and check his blaster over while you took the ship in to land. By the time he’d finished pulling on his pack, holstering his blaster and ensuring his wrist comm was good to go, you had successfully landed the ship and given control over to BB8.

“Alright, buddy, take care of things while we’re gone and no parties!” Poe called to his droid, who replied in the affirmative before telling Poe to be careful. He chuckled warmly, punching the button for the ramp to lower as you finished gearing up and came to stand next to him.

Poe made to start down the ramp, stopping when you suddenly grabbed his arm, turning to look down at you in surprise. You released your grip and gestured outside. “I know it was in my reports, but I have to say it again-don’t touch anything, especially if it’s colourful. I overpacked on med supplies in case we come into contact with something poisonous, but we don’t know a lot of the species of plants and animals here.” You reached up and brushed some hair out of your eyes, “If we have to move quickly for any reason, try to pick the most open path, okay?”

Poe cocked a brow, “You think some plant will be worse than whatever’s making us run?”

You shrugged, following Poe as he began to descend the ramp. Immediately the cool hull of the ship disappeared, replaced by the humid air of the jungle planet. It smelled similar to Yavin-4, and as Poe took a deep breath, feeling almost nostalgic, he heard you do the same before replying.

“Honestly, I’m hoping we don’t find out.”

-

Within twenty minutes of a steady pace through the jungle, first in the direction of the nearby river and then shifting North to follow along its banks, Poe was soaked in sweat. You hadn’t understated the humidity, and though you had broth grown up on a planet with similar weather, it did feel a little heavier here. And the jungle surrounding you both was thick, densely packed with trees so tall and substantial that not a ton of light from the single sun made its way to the jungle floor. Though, if the shade was offering any reprieve from the heat Poe couldn’t fucking tell.

The air had sweetened somewhat once he’d followed you from the small field into the jungle and Poe, though on high alert for any threats as you lead the way, couldn’t help but admire all of the colour interspersed through the greenery. It was no wonder you had reminded him to avoid anything colourful, for the jungle floor was full of every colour imaginable, as beautiful as it was dangerous.

Thankfully, as you had predicted, moving along the bank of the river was the safest option, a long winding path of densely packed mud and rocks leading you to the outpost without having to brush against every bush you passed. The river wasn’t flowing too quickly, but it did give a subtle backdrop of sound that made the quiet between Poe and you less noticeable.

After just over an hour of walking, Poe was feeling grateful that the combat gear you each wore was as moisture-wicking as it was, though he had to keep wiping sweat from his forehead before it could fall into his eyes. It was one of the times he turned his head at an awkward angle to wipe his brow that his eyes caught movement in the distance, and though he kept walking behind you he fixed his gaze to the general area as he filled with alarm.

After a few minutes, he relaxed, fractionally, when nothing further moved. Still, he kept his eyes surveying the area, worrying at his bottom lip as he did. He was considering that the research and information about this planet didn’t pull a lot of data on living creatures, and as much as he was coiled for an attack he could just as easily have seen some sort of bird or rodent moving up a tree. His concentration on your surroundings was pulled when you suddenly let out a little gasp as you tripped on a root.

Without thought, Poe reached out and grabbed the back of your shirt before you could fall over completely, lifting you and setting you back on your feet. Embarrassed, you mumbled your thanks and looked away from Poe, who had been eyeing you to make sure you were alright. When your eyes landed somewhere just behind him and widened in horror, Poe was moving before you could open your mouth to warn him, instincts taking over.

Grabbing your upper arm, Poe urged you both forward quickly while pulling his blaster free with his other hand. You copied him, making no attempt to shake his grip and following his lead in shooting over his shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked, sparing you a glance and letting you go once you nodded and he was sure you were steady on your feet again, “Run.” And you did, neither of you wasting any time in shifting into sprints along the riverbed.

Poe looked over his shoulder and saw the creature he’d sensed earlier, cursing because it wasn’t just a rodent, and it looked like it most definitely ate humans.

It almost looked like a wolf, but it was about twice the size of any Poe had ever seen and its jaws were tightly packed with long, pointed teeth that would surely be able to pull limbs off without much effort. It was pursuing at Poe’s four o’clock, running carelessly through the many bushes and plants as it gained on you both, the only thing stopping it from lunging were the many thick trunked trees.

Firing a few more shots and cursing when they made no impact-clearly the beasts' sides were too thick for the blaster to cause harm-Poe shouted at you. “How far away are we?”

“At this pace ten minutes or so!”

“Fuck, okay, any idea what this thing is?”

You grunted, jumping over a fallen branch and glancing back at the monster, “Looks hungry, we should probably avoid letting it catch up to us.”

Poe swore again, picking up his pace and then aiming a few more shots over his shoulder carefully. The first few missed, but the third shot made contact with one of the beasts' eyes and it let out a roar of pain before barreling through the tree line and coming up right behind you both.

“Fucking shit, looks like we’re testing the theory of which is worse, sweetheart!” He barked, grabbing your arm and pulling you off the river path and into the jungle. Neither of you stopped, though Poe took the lead in running through the dense brush in hopes of keeping leaves and branches from hitting your face. His height advantage kept him just above most of the potentially dangerous plants.

He heard you continue shooting, then give a small whoop at the same moment another roar filled the air-you had hit it again. The heavy steps of the creature faded. Poe glanced over his shoulder to see if it had stopped. He didn’t see the beast anywhere, just you running slightly behind him until-

With a cry of his name, you suddenly sprinted to close the distance between you both and then tackled Poe to the ground, the impact, angle and speed making you both roll through the plants and bushes he’d been trying to avoid. Poe roared with indignation as he slammed right into the trunk of a large tree, coughing as dust filled his lungs. Seeing you on the ground next to him, he grabbed you and pulled you close, listening for any sounds of pursuit as you coughed along with him.

The tree you had tackled him into had a large bush at the base, which served as a decent enough hiding spot. You each waited for any sounds, but when nothing came Poe carefully led the way out, his eyes searching all over, almost overwhelmed at the abundance of colour surrounding you within the jungle. You both stumbled back toward the riverbank, reorienting yourselves until Poe looked around at you.

Closing the gap between you in two steps, Poe gripped the front of your shirt with both hands before shoving you into the nearest tree, “What the fuck was that?” He shouted, surprised to see you panting heavily and appearing unaffected by his violent outburst.

Shocked at his behaviour, Poe released you.

He was panting too, he realized.

“You almost ran over that edge up there, forty-foot drop.” You explained heavily, looking down at your clothing. “We’re covered in, what is this?” He watched as you patted your shoulder and dust hit the air, shimmering slightly in the light.

Since when did dust shimmer?

Poe glanced down at himself and found he was covered as well, copying you to try and get it off. “That bush had red flowers, did you notice?”

You nodded, frowning, “Yeah, not one of the few BB8 was able to identify. This could be its pollen.” You began to walk and Poe stepped in stride next to you, both of you walking along out of standard formation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized this. He just didn’t care, all of the sudden.

The base came in to view after a few minutes and Poe released a breath of relief. He hadn’t looked at you for a while, and something in his gut was telling him not to, though he had no idea why. He focused on searching for an entry point, trying to ignore how much hotter he felt, how the once comfortable clothing he had on now felt almost scratchy and he wished he could peel it off.

His skin felt...sensitive. Weirdly and increasingly sensitive. And still, he resisted the urge to look at you and see if you were experiencing anything similar. Looking at you didn’t feel safe.

Locating a doorway, you followed Poe and dropped to your knees to pry open the circuit board and play with the wires to get the door to release its lock so it could be manually opened. As he waited for you to work, his eyes dropped to stare at the back of your neck, where he could see the sweat dripping, the hair at the nape of your neck, below your bun, curling in the moisture. Just as he noticed how much you were sweating, he realized he was as well. Like, completely soaked.

Stars, he needed out of these clothes.

He didn’t even feel happy when you managed to break the door security and pry it open, nor any relief when he followed you inside and found the air in the abandoned, stone corridor outpost significantly cooler than outside. He simply followed you as you took a few steps down the corridor, stopping at the entrance to a room that’s door was open, peering in before taking a few steps inside.

It appeared to be some sort of old meeting room, a large marble table running the length, though most of the seats were gone and otherwise the space was unfurnished. This wasn’t a room of interest, and you seemed to decide this a moment before Poe, turning on your heel and looking up to meet his eyes as you did.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Poe looked back into your eyes as that gut feeling shouted again not to look at you, but it was too late.

A low growl tore from his chest, and Poe was stalking forward.

+

Poe was moving toward you and every muscle in your body was coiled, ready to run, your mind all but screaming at you to get the fuck away from him. But you didn’t, you couldn’t, you stood rooted to the spot as he made to close the distance between you both, growling as he did.

You knew something had been wrong since leaving the jungle. You had been sweaty and much too hot, and you almost started crying when you’d been trying to get the door to open to the outpost because your skin was aflame and you needed to get the layers off of it for relief.

And you’d felt...you couldn’t exactly describe it, but you just knew you shouldn’t look up at Poe as he breathed heavily behind you, something deep within you telling you that things were off. Very, very off. Whatever was happening, it was overtaking Poe more aggressively than you at this point.

It had to be the pollen, you realized with growing horror. If the pooling of heat in your belly was any clue, that red flower had to be an unidentified fertility plant. But you’d studied fertility plants, and none that you knew of were this intense. You’d only been exposed, what, ten minutes? And yet you were both sweaty and overcome already.

And Poe didn’t look like himself anymore, something in him snapped the moment he met your eyes. He looked like a predator. Scarier than the beast outside that had chased you.

He was a breath away when you heard yourself let out a whimper, a mixture of fear and longing that seemed to stop him in his tracks, his eyes widening. He stood rooted to the spot but visibly struggled to lean away from you, horror replacing the dark look he’d had moments before.

“What, what the f-fuck is happening?” He gasped, closing his eyes as if in pain.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking hot, I need to get out of these clothes!” You cried out, yanking your shirt from where it was tucked into your khakis desperately. “I think it was a fertility plant, Poe, we have to g-get out of our clothes. Cov-covered in pollen.” It was starting to hurt just to breathe, to speak, to not be touching Poe.

He gave a moan indicating he was equally as uncomfortable, opening his eyes again.

When he looked down at you, the dawning horror overflowed. His eyes, normally soft and honey-coloured, were completely black. His gaze locked onto yours and a smirk replaced his fearful look, and as much as it scared you, you couldn’t look away, heat and wetness now pooling between your legs in anticipation.

“Little girl,” He growled, his body locked tight still but his eyes devouring you, “Look at what you’re doing to me.” He demanded, his hand moving to palm over his crotch where-

Stars, even with his pants still on you could see the outline of his erection, and you whimpered again. This was going to happen, there was no stopping it, you could feel that despite everything inside of you fighting to step away, to run, that when you did move it would be straight for him.

The pollen from this plant would kill you both if you didn’t follow your urges, that much you knew. You’d studied the tales of this strength of a fertility plant, and you knew the dangers that it could pose. You might both die anyway, now that you’d been exposed. It could be strong enough that you’d both just fuck until you died, and you knew that should scare you but...you felt yourself fading into the back of your mind, the heat enveloping you everywhere. Taking over.

You moaned again, still fighting the need to close the distance between Poe and you because you needed him to understand what was happening. “We can’t stop,” You gasped out, and then you watched as the darkness in Poe’s eyes faded slightly and his horrified expression returned-he was trying to fight the pollen.

“Run, (y/n), g-get away before, f-fuck I need y-you so bad,” He was trying to step back from you but unable to fight the burning need, the desire. You saw tears slip from his eyes, “Can’t control my-myself, sweetheart, r-run p-please.”

Tears leaked out of your eyes as you only stepped toward Poe, feeling yourself disappearing further in further into the back of your mind, “We have to, Poe,” He was again only a few inches away now, and what a sight it must be as you each stood so close, fighting against the pollen’s wishes and trying to pull back from one another with no success, “W-we might d-die, can’t f-fight this, oh fuck PLEASE!” You suddenly felt the heat reach a boiling point and absolutely needed Poe to touch you.

“Sweetheart,” He groaned, “F-fight me, don’t, don’t let me hurt y-you, we ha-have to fight it!”

“POE,” You screamed, the last of your true self speaking, “I promise i-it’s o-kay, ple-please, I don’t wa-want t-t-to die!” And the band within you snapped, and you were moving into Poe at the same moment his eyes turned black again and then, quite suddenly, he was on you.

If only everything could have gone black at that point.

Taglist 

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess​ @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812​ @poedameronloverx​

[shihalyfie]

Comparing the original Best Partner character song series and the new one, and what that says about the 02 cast

So if you haven’t heard yet, a new series of 02 (it’s actually Kizuna) character songs dropped! Allegedly intended as a slightly delayed 20th anniversary project, the series is a callback to the original “Best Partner” character song album series that released during 02′s actual airing.

If you know anything about the original Best Partner series, it’s one that sets an insanely high bar, even for Digimon standards (and that’s saying something, given the deep associations this franchise has with music). The series of character songs before it, Adventure’s “Character Song + Mini Drama” series, has a…kind of questionable amount of relevance to each character; it’s not like they’re super amazingly out of character, but they don’t really tell you a lot about each character beyond some gloss details (this is probably best demonstrated in how Mimi’s song is blatantly just an AiM single disguised as a Mimi song). Best Partner, on the other hand, very intimately goes into each character’s head and their relationships with their respective partners, even putting in direct words what wasn’t stated explicitly in the series.

So does the new series live up to the high bar its predecessor sets? Answer: on top of some abnormal attention to detail on the covers, it is very obvious that the new series not only has a lot of the depth of the 02 characters in mind, but also is made in direct response to the original series itself. Moreover, putting the original Best Partner series and this one side by side reveals a lot about each of the 02 characters and what they got out of 02′s story, in a surprisingly neat summary.

Let’s go into how!

Since this is something that has a deep relationship with all of these characters in regards to the series, this particular meta would not have been possible without input from multiple people who know these characters better than I could ever hope to by myself. Thank you for all of your help.

A bit of historical context

The original Best Partner series consisted of a set of albums, one representing each pair of partners in 02. Notably, even though nowadays there’s a specific order of the Adventure/02 characters that’s used in modern media, not only does the original series not follow that ordering (as it hadn’t been set in stone at the time), it also leads with the original Adventure characters and not the 02 ones, which is pretty unusual for a series that’s ostensibly supposed to be for 02 (modern lineups will usually favor leading with whichever group the relevant product is branded with).

A lot of this probably makes more sense when you realize that the original Best Partner series was released during the first half of 02’s airing. The final album was released on August 23, 2000, four days before the fateful 02 episode 21 (yes, that means the third track on Ken and Wormmon’s album is actually a spoiler). So in other words, while the original Best Partner series accurately reflects the older Adventure group’s character development and what problems they were able to sufficiently overcome, the 02 group does not have anything about their character development from 02′s second half reflected in it at all.

That’s actually a really huge disparity, when you think about it, especially because a lot happened with the 02 group in that second half – that second half was where the emotional payoff and the results of everything that had been building up over that first half came together. So in comparison to the Adventure group, composed of people confidently talking about what they’ve decided for themselves from now on, you still have the 02 group drenched pretty deeply in insecurity. Watch 02 to the end and listen to those songs again, and you might even think “wait, this is supposed to represent these characters?” So, in essence, the new Best Partner series serves to address that gap, and what the 02 group gained and learned out of 02′s second half.

Best Partner (and its successor series for Tamers, Best Tamers) follows a uniform format: a solo song for the human partner, a solo song for the Digimon partner, and a duet between the two. (Given that, the original Best Partner series was really huge, at a whole 36 songs.) Recalling that, in the Adventure universe, a Digimon partner reflects the human’s inner self and psyche, it’s pretty extensive coverage: what the human has to say about themself, what place their Digimon partner is in relative to that, and what the nature of their relationship is due to that.

Let’s go into each pair of partners in detail!

Daisuke and V-mon

For those who love 02 and love Daisuke in particular, when you ask “what kind of character is Daisuke like?” or “what’s Daisuke’s best quality?”, you’re probably going to get answers like “forward-thinking” or “positive” or “good at uplifting others” – basically everything to do with how Daisuke is an encouraging presence who doesn’t give in easily and has a strong mentality of moving forward in the face of despair. Someone who appreciates and understands others’ best qualities, and loves them for everything they are. So when you look at his original Best Partner solo song, Goggle Boy…

But more than just saving the world I really don’t want to lose, you know

…Uh…

These goggles are my proof Given by a certain someone to me The precious thing he handed over It’s just like his Crest, you know Aren’t they cool?

…Well, that’s nowhere to be found.

This is the kind of song that might make you think “wait, this is supposed to be Daisuke’s representative song?!” (It’s possibly because of this that Daisuke’s song from The Bridge to Dreams, Tomorrow, generally tended to be far more favored among Daisuke fans, although it’s more relevant to 02 as a whole than it is to Daisuke in particular.) if you listen to Goggle Boy knowing about what Daisuke’s best qualities should be, this is almost a little frustrating, because this is the kind of thing he really shouldn’t be pigeonholed as – basically, begging for others’ approval and praise and focusing on idolizing others. Even his most insightful moments in this song come from his appreciation of something that came from someone else (Taichi), not from himself.

Well, the thing is, that was Daisuke’s character for most of the first half of 02. Of course, even in early episodes, there were many times where Daisuke’s potential for positivity and forward-thinkingness were starting to poke through, but most of the time he was rolling over trying to please others and chasing after his seniors. The real period of time he started to grow into his own about this was 02 episode 24 and its aftermath – when his time spent with his friends started to fill the void in his life and his need for validation, and the escalating situation, especially with Ken, led him to have a proper grasp of what was properly important and what needed to be done.

So when we get to his new solo, RUNNING MAN…

I’ll keep on running far ahead Let’s bring everyone along with me, today, too Really, always, thank you, Thank you so much Riding the wind, going past the sky Grasping your hands and flying I’m even starting to see beyond my dreams

Even in only one section, you can get an instant image of the Motomiya Daisuke we all know and love – someone who appreciates his friends’ role in his life, loves their company, and moves positively towards the future. Because, again, after the events of 02, and after being able to bond further with his friends and gaining his own strengths in leading everyone forward, he became able to more properly express his love for everything instead of constantly vying for others’ attention. Even the title reflects the change, from a “boy” who’s flashing the symbol of courage he got from someone else, to a “man” who’s positively running forward on his own merits.

(Interestingly, RUNNING MAN is composed by Ohta Michihiko, a legendary composer who’s made many of some of the most important songs in the franchise, and also composed many of the original Best Partner songs, including Goggle Boy. It’s interesting how RUNNING MAN is the one most like the original songs in atmosphere as a result – possibly representing how Daisuke is a simple-minded person who ostensibly doesn’t change drastically in disposition – yet has lyrical content that’s so starkly different.)

As a result, this is subtly reflected in the other two songs in each album as well – remember that V-mon is one of the partners who most “matches” his own partner in terms of disposition and mentality. So as Daisuke shifted his own priorities, V-mon did too; we go from Go Ahead! being about taking a stand and fighting, whereas Beyond the Future is about a similar forward-thinking mentality to Daisuke’s.

Likewise, the duets have different priorities as well; 2-TOP was composed of Daisuke and V-mon bickering for the most of it, and the most substantial point you could get about it was that despite their bickering, they made it work, whereas HEY-rasshai! has them almost entirely in sync (with one minor moment of deviance). It’s also interesting to see the topics covered in each; 2-TOP is about soccer, which ultimately is revealed to be a fairly incidental hobby for Daisuke, whereas HEY-rasshai! is about ramen making, which, while comical, also has a very strong tie to “Daisuke’s dream for the future, and his willingness to single-mindedly dedicate himself to something when it’s something he truly wants”. In other words, while Daisuke knew what he wanted since elementary school, it says a lot that he’s at a point where he and V-mon are now taking proactive steps to have that dream achieved, now that they’re able.

Ken and Wormmon

Like with his position in 02 itself, Ken’s is probably the easiest to see the contrast without trying too hard, but there’s still quite a lot to unpack!

When you think about it, in the modern era, it’s actually surprisingly hard to find stuff too relevant to Ken’s time as the Kaiser. The reason is, simply, that the series itself discourages this – Ken himself had an obvious aversion to dwelling too much on it, and the entire series itself has a strong theme of “moving on”. It’s not to say that the Kaiser doesn’t have a fanbase (I’m sorry if you’re reading this and find that I might be implying too hard that you don’t exist), but rather that there’s a franchise and fanart tendency to focus more on “Ken-chan” than “the Kaiser” these days, and old merch from the first half of the series will all too often get responses of “it’s really sad Ken-chan can’t be there…” Of course, 02 itself was also about accepting one’s mistakes, not pretending they never happened, so it’d be foolhardy to deny Ken’s dark history entirely, but it’s retroactively interesting to see such a prominent and persistent piece of merch like Ken and Wormmon’s original Best Partner album focus so largely on Ken’s time as the Kaiser when most of the franchise ended up trying to move on.

Starting with Ken’s solo songs, and his first one, ONLY ONE:

I’ve lived without showing my true feelings, wearing this mask

Well, this was easy to tell from the series itself, but the point driven home is that Ken didn’t want to expose his true self to others, putting on a front of “strength” and smashing his true feelings into the corner so that he could become more of the “perfect” person he thought he was supposed to be. There’s also another interesting line that one should pay attention to:

I polished the knife in my heart and put my belief in infinite power

Basically, putting up a defensive front to prevent anything from approaching his weaknesses.

Anyway, moving onto his new song, Never Ending:

If I want to be proud of tomorrow’s version of myself I wonder, what can I do? Never Give-up I’ll keep fighting, even doing someone else’s part No, I won’t be afraid anymore

First of all, the main theme of the song is about putting conscious thought into understanding how to stay true to himself – basically, understanding what it is he really wants to do and become, instead of putting on fronts and hiding it from others. Not only that, we see traces of what exactly he gained over the course of the second half of 02 – because so much of it involved constantly trying to blame himself for everything, this song is about what he came to learn in terms of proactively making it up and actively fighting forward. He’s working hard!

We also have this part:

The knife that’s pointed at someone, or at myself If it’s been let go of

Two things going on here: firstly, we have an explicit reference to the metaphorical “knife” Ken referred to putting up in ONLY ONE, talking about finally letting it go instead of bothering with this kind of front. He also points out that, in a sense, the knife was pointed at himself too, either in the sense of actually having hurt himself through this entire ideal, or in the sense that he constantly was trying to blame and punish himself for everything. None of that should be necessary anymore. Moreover, Never Ending contains a lot of references to “daily life” and the happiness that comes with the simplicity of just being alive – because that was indeed what Ken gained through his experiences, the ability to treasure living life in itself instead of aspiring to an impossible standard.

Another interesting thing about Never Ending is that it’s technically in a similar rock genre to ONLY ONE instead of being “soft”, like Ken’s personality is often thought to be. This was a surprise to a lot of people who commented on how surprisingly “cool” the song was, but this is actually completely in line with Ken arguably being one of the most openly assertive people in this group even after his reformation. Note that it’s very difficult to call this song purely angsty – it’s definitely positive and forward-thinking, and the chorus itself is partially in major key – but it has the vibe of someone who’s fully aware of everything that’s happened, is putting proper thought into it, and is pushing on despite everything. Remember, the intensity the Kaiser had originally came from somewhere; Ichijouji Ken is the same person, in the end.

In regards to Wormmon’s song, the contrast is also obvious: The Future You Dreamed of, the Future I Dreamed Of. is of course about Wormmon’s tormented feelings during the Kaiser’s abusive relationship with him, whereas can change it! is about its aftermath and how they made up (including copious references to the events of 02 episode 23). Even then, there’s a certain “forward-thinking” attitude that marks this song as being representative of being after 02’s events and not during – see the line “The mistake we made that day/is exactly the reason we’ll never let it happen again”, instead of the self-punishment and shame Stingmon expressed in 02 episode 26).

On top of that, the duet song Forever Adolescence also marks a subtle progression from the point they were at from True Strength – remembering that Best Partner 12 was released at a time when True Strength was actually a bit of a spoiler, while Ken and Wormmon obviously had made up by that point, the key line in it is still “everything truly begins from here”. So what, exactly, happened after that? According to Forever Adolescence, the decision made was to keep moving forward, and, moreover, to stay “the way they are”, especially with the nuance that it means it’s okay to not force oneself into the role of an adult and stay “young at heart”. This is really, really important in light of the events of Kizuna, the 02 group’s unusual role in it and its relevance to 02′s themes (more on this below), and how Spring 2003 referred to the pressure placed on Osamu as him being “forced to grow up too quickly” – in essence, Ken and Wormmon have firmly resolved to actively move away from that kind of pressure.

Miyako and Hawkmon

I’ve pointed out several times on this blog that the actual complex Miyako was going through in 02 was that she hated herself more than anyone else in the group would be willing to criticize her – and if you don’t believe me, it’s put in a pretty heavy-handed manner in her original song, Crash and Bingo!:

Fussing about it won’t get anything done But my selfishness and problems and panic keep coming out

…and even more viciously in her own and Hawkmon’s duet, Fly High:

I can’t do anything right, besides playing around with computers

or

Everyone would be still be fine if I weren’t there

If you thought it was subtle in the main series, it certainly isn’t here: Miyako considered herself good for absolutely nothing and unable to be accepted by others for being too useless – in these songs, despite Hawkmon’s attempts to uplift her, she criticizes her own messy tendencies and considers herself a burden. Best Partner is a positive series, so it still has the attitude of “we’ll try anyway”, but it’s clear that Miyako really didn’t have the highest opinion of herself at all. Hence, Fly High also shows off the worst of Hawkmon having to deal with the fallout – with Miyako flailing around in panic and considering herself good for nothing, he’s forced to carry her around.

But come Miyako’s new solo, From Spain with Love!, we see a huge contrast all over the place:

I, who have evolved into an adult make everyone do a double-take at me when I walk by!

Exhibit A: actual confidence in herself and ability to consider herself worth something;

If I can always, always be honest with myself Even if I don’t put together some program, even if I keep screwing up Ah, you understand me

Exhibit B: understanding that she’s worth something to others besides her utility abilities, and knowing that she has friends who’ll support her despite her flaws (which is very true);

When things are feeling hard, the first thing you should do is call me, okay? I’ll take the wings of love and purity, spread them, and get there as fast as I can Ah, I’ll open up any gate I need to

Exhibit C: indulging in her capacity for helping and supporting others;

Al mal tiempo, buena cara We laugh exactly when things are hard

Exhibit D: understanding the strength to get through hard times, instead of emotionally crumbling under the pressure.

Yep, that’s exactly what her character arc in 02 was about; 02 episode 31 was a huge turning point for her because, in the depths of her berating herself for her messiness and expecting Hikari to be secretly judging her the whole time, Hikari revealed that she was outright jealous of Miyako being able to speak her mind, and Miyako shortly after ended up showing her true capacity for reaching others who needed her help and supporting them, a role she ended up growing into for the rest of the series. Note that, other than the casual remark of confidence at the beginning, Miyako hasn’t necessarily become arrogant or anything – it’s just that, by focusing her energies into how much she loves everyone and turning her “nosiness” and “sticking herself into others’ business” tendencies into positive energy to help everyone, she gained more confidence in her ability to be loved and accepted by others.

This is reflected as well in her new duet with Hawkmon, where, instead of Hawkmon dragging her around everywhere, their differences and mismatched personalities are outright celebrated, and while Miyako still has awareness of her messy tendencies, she’s no longer letting it emotionally rip her apart and has confidence that Hawkmon can be by her side to help her through it. Perhaps reflecting that, Hawkmon himself goes from the over-the-top, dramatic, high-strung Knight of Love to the more calm and straightforward Gentle Tornado, perhaps because his own partner isn’t constantly bouncing off the walls recklessly nearly as much anymore.

Incidentally, it’s not like all of this is without nuance, either; even if Miyako’s become more of a confident person, she’s not all put-together. Considering that the entire song has her gushing about how she’d be willing to drop anything to go see her friends (which was pushed forward in Kizuna itself, what with her willingly taking the same request she’d refused to do earlier just because her friends were involved, and even inventing D-3 gate exploitation just to go see them), when you get to the end, and her gushing about her fun in Spain suddenly derails into reminiscing about the events of 02 episode 42, the implication is clear: for as much as she wants to be wholeheartedly enjoying this fun trip abroad for what it is, she can’t help but let her thoughts float back to memories and friends she cares about, and her bonus conversation with Hawkmon drives it in further that, ultimately, she dearly misses them too much.

Iori and Armadimon

Iori also went through some drastic changes in character over the course of 02, so when you look at My Conclusion, it’s basically Iori at his “worst” point of black-and-white morality:

Everyone, I will be speaking my conclusion Evil will not be tolerated Even evil in itself will be defeated by justice That will always be a certainty in the end

I mean, let’s even consider the fact that the song is called “My Conclusion” in the first place. Iori’s slamming this all down like this is the end-all of everything, and you can’t change his mind! He does briefly admit that there are certain things reason itself won’t change, but it’s more like he’s on the verge of having an out, because in the end, really…

Everyone, I will be speaking my conclusion Our enemies are beyond reason Again and again, to the very end They will certainly use cowardly means to come and attack us

Rationality. No feelings involved. Evil is evil, and justice is justice. No takebacks. Life exists by rules, and nothing else.

Message to the Future is possibly one of the most interesting songs in the original Best Partner collection, because it does actually provide hints about where Iori should be going in the future, and also has a lot of things that retroactively hit a lot harder from the meta perspective. The song fully fleshes out Iori’s feelings and concerns about how to grow up into a proper adult (which was hinted to be his real motivation as to why he was so strict with himself in 02), and that, most of all, what he wants is for his “feelings” to never change no matter what happens. Iori expresses concerns about how he might change as an adult to Armadimon, and Armadimon assures him that he’ll still be “Iori”, no matter what.

So, come the new character song collection, Iori’s new solo song is aptly titled “Things That Won’t Change” – because, in the end, despite everything that changed, his feelings did not. He says it himself: the important parts that he really wanted, the desire to do the right thing and to protect others, never changed a bit at all since “back then”. What did change, however, was his way of going about it.

Rather than what someone else has decided I’ve chosen my own future now

and again:

Rather than imitating someone else This is to shout out my own future

The emphasis on this being Iori’s own choice is important because Iori has finally decided not to live by strict rules imposed on him nor by imitating others (remember, part of the reason he kept doing what he did back in 02 was because he had such a strong belief “my father would have done this”). Others had been encouraging him to “make his own decisions” from the get-go – even Hida Chikara himself had told him that he was the one who needed to decide what to do in any moment in 02 episode 5 – and after dealing with a violation of his own morals in having to kill a Digimon in 02 episode 44, one episode later, in discussing with Takeru, Iori has to come to terms with the decision to continue fighting because “this is what I have decided myself”, because it’s not about whether he has an obligation to keep fighting for the sake of justice, but because he, himself, wants to protect others, and will do what it takes to do so. There’s no more of these strict rules of “because it must be this way” or the black-and-white morality that caused him to be so initially hostile towards Ken and Oikawa, but an understanding that these things need to be decided from the heart.

Moreover, unlike My Conclusion, Things That Won’t Change isn’t written like Iori’s turning in some school essay, but rather, more than half the song is in casual-form Japanese (which was associated with Iori when he became more emotional and wasn’t keeping himself in check anymore), and is more of a thoughtful reflection of his own feelings rather than trying to pass itself off as following rules because he must.

Thus, while the duet Choo Choo Tryin’ isn’t as heavy-handed as Message to the Future, Iori and Armadimon acknowledge that they need to be forward-thinking and keep going (generally tied to the message of 02 in itself), and Iori outright discusses the potential pitfalls of becoming too stiff. Furthermore, the song has copious rap portions, which seems rather unfitting for Iori on its face – until you realize that not only was Iori sometimes willing to indulge in more fun even back during 02 (just because he was strict with himself didn’t mean he was a complete killjoy), Iori’s also just a lot more flexible-minded in general, and has a penchant for wanting to do things right when he’s given a task. (His delivery of the rap in the song isn’t monotonous nor overly emotional, but has the nuance of someone who’s trying to recite all of it with caution.)

The part that’s particularly striking from the meta perspective is that Iori and Armadimon are no longer voiced by the same voice actress; Message to the Future was essentially Urawa Megumi talking to herself. So now, Iori has a new voice actor, and in many ways has become very different from Armadimon – but because Armadimon sounds a little like Iori, you could say he’s helping preserve the childish side of Iori that’s more important than ever to hold onto, especially since Iori himself worried about changing too much. And so, Iori’s still willing to indulge in a sort of “fun” song like this, and in the end, despite everything, you understand that they haven’t drifted apart at all in the slightest.

That’s not to say that Armadimon himself hasn’t changed either – in fact, he’s changed himself in response to how much Iori has. His original solo song had a lot of easygoingness to it, and some constant reminders for Iori to please, please chill – but his new one has a much stronger sense of resolve and forward-thinking attitude, reflecting that, while Iori himself technically had to learn to embrace more emotional uncertainty through the events of 02, it was also able to give him much stronger resolve that this was something he was doing because he was emotionally prepared for it, not out of some sense of moral obligation.

Takeru and Patamon

I’ve already covered Takeru’s original Best Partner song Focus and how it’s probably not about shipping as much as the fanbase tends to pin it as, but in any case, the operative part is here:

Before I knew it, I was watching over you Still standing at a skewed angle from behind The focus of your heart I wonder, is it on me, or… No, I can’t ask

Takeru couldn’t bring himself to ask sensitive questions or be straightforward about his emotions – which is basically what was Takeru’s lingering problem over Adventure and 02, that he kept swerving around or even lying about sensitive topics and holding everything inside, until one of his triggers was hit and everything exploded. Therefore, even when an important question about someone else comes up, he “can’t ask”. Moreover, for all Takeru is known as a lighthearted and kind person, Focus is a really turbulent song with a really harsh arrangement, and it’s a pretty accurate view of all the complicated and sometimes even negative emotions that Takeru was (badly) coping with over the course of 02.

This was the whole issue with Takeru and Iori’s Jogress arc in 02 episodes 34-36 – that Iori felt he couldn’t understand nor communicate well with Takeru, and had to eventually take matters into his own hands in order to properly understand his feelings. Takeru’s further interactions with Iori were significantly more straightforward for the rest of the series, and the experience also led to Takeru being able to more openly communicate with Ken as well, since the two had been on awkward speaking terms for most of the third quarter of the series.

So when we get to Step High Step…

You lament, you don’t have confidence in yourself I’m saying this to you as I’ve been watching you You’re amazing at all times

The song features Takeru being fairly straightforward about his feelings and opinions instead of just dodging it and going for an “everything’s okay” keeping-the-peace attitude, and not only that, he’s commenting on someone else, something that he probably would have refrained from in 02 for being intrusive. Of course, Takeru was always a nice person, but he wasn’t exactly straightforward about being nice back then – and yet here we are.

Since Focus is probably about his relationship with Patamon and how he kind of wasn’t exactly straightforward about his worries with him either (see 02 episode 34), it’s also interesting to compare Takeru and Patamon’s duet songs as well. Steppin’ out does portray a progression from Adventure in that they’ve accepted they can “do things over” again after things crash down (presumably referring to Angemon’s death and rebirth), but you’ll notice there isn’t much in the way of actual communciation between the two – something that’s not only present in Le Lien, but also portrays them as outright in-sync to the point of “telepathy”. We’re talking about a pair where the fanbase has historically had doubts about how similar they were back in 02 because of how “mismatched” they seemed!

Which, incidentally, they weren’t actually – you can see Patamon pretending he’s not about to cry in his original Best Partner song Don’t Stop Pata-Pata, much like how Takeru would cover up his own emotions, and gritting his teeth and resolving to fight harder. Meanwhile, while Ring of Smiles ostensibly continues to have Patamon be “sweet and cute”, it contains a lot of important nuances of “appreciating daily life with friends”, even if Patamon himself can’t quite find words for it – in other words, it’s actually some rather insightful and thoughtful sentiments from Patamon about the importance of being with and connecting with others, mirroring what Takeru himself learned in connecting with the others around him, especially Iori.

Hikari and Tailmon

Remember, Hikari has two lines (one in Adventure and one in 02) that basically summarize the main “issue” she was dealing with in both series: she was selfless to unhealthy levels, and would prioritize others’ welfare over herself to the point of self-destruction. So in her original solo Best Partner song, Gentle Rain, she puts it pretty explicitly:

I want to always be wearing nothing but smiles But I can’t be cheerful all of the time

or:

So that I can become a greater version of myself Please give me strength

All things considered, Gentle Rain is full of Hikari’s own insecurities, and her belief that she doesn’t have enough strength to do anything for herself. She makes references to being pulled to the Dark Ocean, mainly because – as she says – she doesn’t want to go there, but she doesn’t have enough strength or willpower to resist it. In fact, Best Partner 11 is full of a lot of angst; Gentle Rain is Hikari angsting about her own weakness and inability to do much for herself, Getting up is Tailmon angsting about her painful past and everything to do with it, and Shining Star is basically a plea for both of them to be able to do anything despite all the pain. It’s all pretty severely heavy content, despite the initial sparkly-looking sentiment of it all.

Considering the circumstances, it’s not really all that surprising. Hikari spent her time in Adventure and the first half of 02 very “emotionally isolated” from the others, to the point very few people could understand what she was thinking, and while she’d never hesitate to put herself out for other people, anything to do with herself, like getting pulled to the Dark Ocean, would result in resignation “it’s over” and “I can’t do anything about it”. Tailmon came from the background of being effectively raised by the abusive Vamdemon, so 02 was really only part of the earliest portion of her moving on with her life and being able to spend happier moments with Hikari. But, of course, the real turning point was 02 episode 31, when Miyako finally managed to break through to her and convince her to not accept the inevitability of things happening to herself, to accept help with the support of others, and to not take things happening to her as a sign she’s doomed.

So when we reach Hikari’s new solo song, Tomorrow’s Blue…

I want to chase after my dreams and hopes, it’s fine even if they’re incomplete I won’t lose, I won’t stop, I’ll do this to stay true to myself

The most striking thing about the song is that it features Hikari assertively talking about her own desires and feelings, when back in 02 she basically tried to kick them out of the picture for the sake of everyone else (and, really, even in Tailmon’s new solo song, Tender tale, she outright calls Hikari out for still prioritizing other people over herself). It’s not demeaning herself, it’s not resigning herself to anything, it may have a slight admission that she’s not super-confident about everything yet, but it’s still her looking forward and choosing to pursue what he wants. It’s a big deal!

And instead of the constant angst that permeated Best Partner 11, the new album is about Hikari and Tailmon talking about their feelings towards each other – something that neither of them really verbalized that well over either Adventure and 02 – and contextualizing their importance to each other over the course of their “story”. Hikari talks about Tailmon’s role of assertiveness in helping her break out of her shell, and Tailmon generally provides an extremely accurate description of Hikari in a nutshell – that she’s a bit mysterious, that she’s emotionally sensitive, that she’s cheerful and lifts others’ spirits. What’s more, Tailmon makes a reference to the same kind of “pain” and “losing things” she referred to in Getting up, but instead of angsting about it, she positively accepts it as something that may happen in the process of protecting others. (Oh, and it and the new duet A Tale of the Light also make reference to Hikari’s photography hobby in 02, contextualizing it as something Hikari did to chronicle their precious memories.)

So in summary, Hikari and Tailmon have both been able to accept 02′s philosophy of becoming forward-thinking, positive, and accepting the help of others in order to move forward. Not bad!

Conclusion and digression

Despite how these songs are almost polar opposite in portraying their before-and-after development of the 02 kids, nobody’s really argued that any of them are out of character! In the end, it’s a pretty succinct depiction of what these kids were dealing with and what they grew into by the end of the series. Seriously, I never, ever want to hear that these kids were underdeveloped nor that they didn’t go through any significant development over the course of 02 ever again. That’s just not true at all, and this simply happens to be one of the many illustrations of how.

Moreover, the songs themselves and the “conversations” that came with the new albums solidify firmly that the 02 group has extremely tight relations with their partners even at this time – with Daisuke actively consulting V-mon for help, Miyako, Takeru, and Hikari actively dragging their partners everywhere with them, Ken having Wormmon be his effective alarm clock, and Iori being so close with Armadimon that his Nagoya dialect is rubbing off on him. Daisuke, Miyako and Hikari have a huge point made that, regardless of the rather easygoing way they’re going at it, they’re very aware of what they want to do from this point out and are following it with gusto (and while it’s not stated in words, Iori carrying a huge textbook, presumably a law one, with note markers all over it drives the point home that this applies to him, too). It’s a really, really huge contrast to what was going on with the directionless Taichi, Yamato, and Sora effectively neglecting their own partners back in Kizuna – and further reinforces the reason the 02 group was in such an unusually favorable position during the movie.

[echo-of-sounds]

rejection sensitive dysphoria

How Aizawa, Toshi, Hizashi, and Gang Orca would support their s/o with rejection sensitive dysphoria.

Sorry if some of these are a little difficult to read. A lot of this is personal so I sort of prattled on. But I think I edited them down enough to make sense and read clearly.

Aizawa Shouta

Shouta struggles with a few of your ADHD symptoms, mainly clicking and tapping. He’s also growing and learning. He comforts you from sensitivities and learns to help with memory issues. But one thing that’ll throw him for a loop is rejection sensitive dysphoria. Handling people’s emotions, he isn’t that best at. Handling your self-accusations, nearly uncontrollable guilt, and alienation hurts, worries, confusions, and upsets him.

It’ll take a lot of practice on his part to understand what exactly RSD is and how it affects your thinking, behaviors, and feelings. It’s hard for him to grasp how him saying “Don’t do that” or how reading a nice, useful critique on your writing is enough to make you sob for ten minutes. Your train of thought just makes very little sense. It’s helping you. You should use the advice to improve your skills. But he doesn’t voice that. It won’t make you feel better.

While he is confused about your reasoning, he understands you’re hurting. That’s more than enough to make him sit down, hold you, and talk (which is difficult for him). After reading about RSD and gaining new insights, he prefers talking out what happened and what your thoughts/feelings were saying. It’s to guide you along a path of understanding the situation better in hopes it’ll calm you. He wasn’t disappointed. That was just your mind twisting the conversation. Now, that doesn’t stop the flooding emotions, but it’s reassuring to realize his disgust wasn’t real. He still loves you. He always will.

A behavior that puzzles him (i.e. worries him sick) is when you fluctuate between a social butter and a hermit. You try so hard to make someone like you so much, but then a week later, you’re completely isolating. You don’t respond to texts or calls. You don’t engage. You just turn dormant. It’s like you either need to be beloved or erased. There’s no in-between… 

And that makes Shouta feel as stuck as you. Though he hides it to an extent. He knows if he revealed annoyance at your withdrawal, that could very well make it worse. And since he isn’t that great at emotional subjects, his choice of words could make it seem like he’s mad at you when that’s not the case at all. His annoyance is at the emotions. They take you away from the world, from your friends and life and him. It’s upsetting. He’s hurt that you don’t partake in card games with friends or join him for dinner anymore.

After a while, he will have a brief outburst. Despite the anger, underneath the scowls and retorts, you can tell he just misses you. He’s your partner. You need to have some sort of involvement in the partnership. At the end of his blowout, he apologizes. And you should, too. It’s unfair for you to disengage for so long. He understands your emotions are difficult to handle, but he doesn’t deserve you neglecting him. It’s on both of you to work with each other and figure out the best way to cope.

Yagi Toshinori

Toshinori’s great with difficult emotions. Hero work’s given him plenty of practice. But he always has a soft spot for you and loathes how you berate and bully yourself. It’s not fair. Mistakes happen. Sometimes you mishear. You won’t always reach your goals, and that’s perfectly okay! It’s also okay to not be the best at everything. None of that means you’re a failure. Anytime he notices the brittle little switch flick on that revs up your thinking, he turns his focus to you.

Like when he drives you to your doctor’s appointment. But it was at one, not four. You disappointed yourself, made Toshi drive you for nothing, and took up his time and energy for fucking nothing. You failed. You’re a fuckup. It hurts. You don’t know why. It just hurts. It’s lonely. It’s overwhelming. You can’t describe the quality, nature, or aspect. You’re just scared and fragile and ashamed and inadequate and now tears are streaming down your face for absolutely no fucking reason and it won’t stop, it gets worse and worse and heavier and heavier and you just want to disappear.

Toshi gently pulls you to his chest. It doesn’t matter how ‘insignificant’ the reason is, he comforts you, softly reassuring he isn’t angry and you aren’t a screwup. You made a mistake. That’s it. There’s no consequence. No nothing. You two can go home and spend your time together, cuddling and kissing, instead of at a doctor’s office. You can fix the mistake later and all will be well.

The high standards you set for yourself upset him. It gives him anxiety. When you get your essay back, the one you spent uncountable hours on, and you only got a 91, he doesn’t understand why or want to see you cry. Out of one-hundred, that’s an amazing grade, especially on difficult subjects. He wishes you learn self-love and accept yourself- fumbles, slipups, and all. Because the minute you fail, since the standards are simply not achievable by anyone, you tongue-lash yourself to tears. You’re scared of failure. But that’s exactly what you set yourself up for with your thinking.

To help, he will read plenty about what he can do to support you. He knows it’s not all on him to fix. You work with your therapist and practice coping techniques. But he yearns to help. He always will. During the buildup of an emotional eruption, he talks with you, directing your mind towards self-compassion: self-kindness because you deserve warmth and sympathy from yourself, common humanity because everyone has flaws and faults, and mindfulness because you can have negative emotions without judging them or yourself.

Overall, Toshi is there to bolster and comfort you. If you need certain things explained or want company to an event, he’s right beside you. He wants you to love yourself as he does, completely. That includes your flaws and mistakes.

Yamada Hizashi

Hizashi’s very in tune with your feelings. The slightest change is often felt by him. It doesn’t matter if the criticism is real or perceived, he’s hugging you, drying your tears. You aren’t an idiot or annoying or inferior. You didn’t fail or disappoint. And he certainly isn’t mad or judging or rejecting you. He loves you dearly. The instant you withdraw because of his tone, words, or actions, he explains he isn’t angry, that he loves you just as much, if not more, than yesterday.

And whether or not the initiating scene was real, he reassures you that no matter how devastating, destructive the emotions are right now, they will pass. You will feel better. Your mind is just in overdrive right now. Once it hits the brakes, it’s easier to think about what really happened. You can recognize his critique wasn’t some personal attack because he suddenly abhors your mere presence. He was genuinely trying to help improve your piano skills. It was out of love. Everything he does is out of love.

The embarrassment and low self-esteem are his chief concerns. You deserve to feel comfortable with your mind and body. Who cares if someone doesn’t like your dress? Screw them. You’re fucking beautiful and worthy of having fun and feeling good. He tries his best to kiss the tears away. If you need more kisses in the places you hate, he gladly obliges. 

The idea of failing a task is too painful, so you never try. You don’t speak up even when you have a great idea. You don’t vocalize your needs because you’d rather be insignificant than called clingy and weak. Hizashi is the ideal man to help. He’s your cheerleader, supporter, and defender. He’ll tell the server your burger was wrong. He’ll listen to your ideas and bring them up, knowing they’re terrific, then make sure you get the credit you deserve. Your words are valid. You’re valid. It doesn’t matter if something you do isn’t the best. You’re still entitled to be heard, helped, and respected.

Hizashi cracks jokes galore. Sometimes they’re groan-worthy. Sometimes they’re pretty funny. Sometimes, after a stress-filled day when you’re raw and insecure, one minuscule jab in a teasing-but-maybe-not-but-maybe-bullying voice can reduce you to nothing. Because that’s exactly what you feel like- a stupid, unwanted, fruitless fool. He’s quick to catch the fumble and switches into snuggly mode, apologizing and nuzzling you under blankets. You know he never means to insult you. But that doesn’t stop the emotions from bursting.

He changes how and when he jokes by paying attention to your anxiety level. He also compliments you more, immodestly and extravagantly. It’s almost too much, but Hizashi doesn’t care. He just wants you to know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Gang Orca

Kugo struggles… a lot. Relationships and delicate emotions in general aren’t his expertise. In the beginning of your relationship, he notices your sensitivities straight away. He doesn’t bring it up at first. Thinking it’s him doing something wrong, he changes how he acts. Then it happens again and again, over things he’s plain confused by. Why does him saying “Not right now” or “I don’t care” bother you so? He was only answering your question.

The more he apologizes, the more ashamed you feel. You must start the conversation on RSD. He’d never mention it for fear he would appear rude or prying. And you’ll need to be specific about what you’re sensitive to so he can do his best to work with you. He reads all those relationship blogs and self-help magazines, hoping to find new ways to support you.

Like Aizawa, Kugo talks through what happened whenever you feel blamed or criticized. He desperately wants to understand your thinking. He hopes it’ll help you realize it wasn’t a big deal. Of course, it is a big deal when you’re sobbing and whipping yourself. But once you’ve calmed, he sits with you and just talks, openly and honestly: What about his words hurt? Was it a specific word, his tone, or what he said? Do you believe he meant to hurt you or was your mind goading itself on?

If you react with anger, he’s baffled. You asked for constructive criticism on your drawing and then when he gives it, you’re slamming your sketchbook closed and snapping at him. His go-to is to apologize. That just makes it worse because now you’re feeling angry and guilty. And his sad expression makes you absolutely incensed because why the hell isn’t he realizing that it’s not about him? And now he’s apologizing again and you’re crying and feel so exposed and threatened and judged and you can’t talk so you just run away, preferring to be forsaken than a burden.

Take the time you need to calm. Kugo will give you plenty of space. When the emotional flash dies and you realize you vilified him over nothing, find him, apologize, and explain. He appreciates both. He accepts your emotional dysregulation and all your strengths and flaws. However, he wishes you wouldn’t take your frustrations out on him. He loves you. He wants to be your backbone. But he can’t do that when you succumb to your fight-or-flight response.

To help reduce unnecessary stress, Kugo reminds you to eat right, exercise, and keep a sleep schedule. When you’re tired, he notices you’re on edge, expecting anger and rejection to come out of nowhere. He takes your phone from your fingers and carries you to bed. You’re unable to get up since he wraps you tight, so you might as well sleep. He pays attention to what you eat. If you haven't eaten healthily, he brings you a glass of water and apple slices with peanut butter. Any time you’re particularly jittery, he recommends going for a walk to get out the swirling energy. Or, if you suggest, sex to work out and get pleasure (which is always a bonus).

[ironmandeficiency]

I saw y'all discussing potential zodiac signs for Pascal's characters, what's your take on the major ones? I personally believe Marcus Pike is a cancer, Catfish's a pisces, Din's a virgo, Whiskey's an aries, Oberyn's either a leo or a libra, Ezra's a gemini or a sag, but I lean towards gemini. Javier's the poster child for Scorpio. Don't know about Maxwell Lord.

pedro character star signs

i’m so sorry it took so long, i was tweaking this so much bc i wanted to make sure i got it right! these are just what i think based on my astrology opinions, i hope you like it! 💕 i added their moon signs for flair bc i can. gonna tag a few friends i think may be interested, hope it’s not an inconvenience

max phillips: aries sun & moon. his ambition and charisma paired with the carefree attitude and optimism are an optimum fire sign duality and despite the fact i shouldn't, i love it so much. he has an inner child that he spoils with the riches of his conquests (good and bad) & gets emotional contentment when he succeeds in achieving his goals. knows what he wants & is quick to make those wants known. you never have to worry about where you stand with him because he will not hesitate to tell you.

javier peña: taurus sun with scorpio moon (the real guy is a taurus & i can see it but w heavy scorpio influence). he has his own structure and routine and will fight to the death to maintain it. very work oriented & does his best to rationalize his emotion-driven scorpio moon with his taurean logic, it's a tossup as to whether it works half the time. has a lot of emotional needs that aren't always met day to day & thats why he smokes and drinks and fucks. but don’t let anything make you doubt his love for you because the only thing stronger than his stubborn streak is his heart and its capacity to love you so damn much.

maxwell lord: libra sun with a sagittarius moon. the charisma? attractive and engaging af. oddly adept at chameleoning himself into whatever social group he's trying to vibe with. will draw eyes no matter what because so many people know him & if they don't already, they sure as hell want to. it takes him a while to learn to balance healthy relationships and his work life but when he does, you can visibly see how much healthier he is because of it. normally tends to his emotions in private but with help, he can start sharing a bit more. more optimistic than he sometimes should be but it could be worse

frankie morales: pisces sun with a cancer moon. his caring and sometimes cautious nature (with a twinge of homicidal tendencies) make him one that you don't just casually fuck with sexually or otherwise. catches feelings very easy & makes a lot of emotionally-driven decisions. these two water signs have a propensity towards codependence & defensiveness when hurt. is at his best when he feels loved and is supported by those he loves. emotions are always fluctuating and there’s some trouble with self-discipline (which is not the same as self-deprecation). because of this, he needs someone who can ground him

jack "whiskey" daniels: his swagger!! his charm!! his generosity!! the protectiveness over people he cares about!! this has the makings of a leo sun. this charismatic sun sign paired with his capricorn moon create a living example of the most balanced "work hard, play hard" you've ever seen. has a tendency to set high standards for himself and others & is a smidge more accepting when people fuck up, wanting to help them be better in the future. his emotions are often repressed in the name of responsibility but when he feels safe, he isn’t shy about them in the slightest. very confident in his skills & one of those that he’s the proudest of is his ability to cheer you up when you’re sad

din djarin: he is the most virgo virgo to ever virgo, a double whammy of it in both his sun & moon placements. very logical, disciplined, and tradition-oriented. knows how to bargain and budget, approaches problems with as little emotional attachment as he can (doesn't always work though), and is selfless af. needs something to keep him from being a worry wart bc otherwise he will spend every waking moment fretting over anything he can find. remarkably well-rounded & somehow the most emotionally stable

ezra: everything about this man radiates aquarius sun + gemini moon and you will never convinve me otherwise. he's just enough of an intellectual elitist (the big words and flowy shakespearian vocabulary) for it to border on unique and fun & annoying as fuck. every aquarian i've met has a quirk that sets them apart from everyone else & ezra's quirk (besides murder) is his vocabulary. it takes him a long time to learn to not talk over people on accident (sometimes he does on purpose just to be a bastard), but you can tell when he’s really trying to be conscious of it.

marcus moreno: now this man is what you call a pisces. a softie with a heart of gold that is constantly being underestimated, he has more power than most think. his silly and carefree nature detracts from the badassery he's capable of so it sometimes catches you off guard when he goes into Badass In Charge™️ mode but it’s there. his moon is also in pisces, which adds to his gentility and desire to be understood by his partner. this man just needs some love dammit, give it to him already!! his empathy makes him the Cool Dad™️ bc missy and literally any other kid get the vibe of “yeah this adult will actually listen to me and value my opinions”

dave: capricorn sun, aries moon. he thrives with people who can handle their own shit competency kink anyone? and doesn’t have patience with those who should know better. his standards are higher than a stoned giraffe, and is at his best in controlled environments. has a strong sense of self & a short list of people he would risk it all for. not as outwardly expressive but he does have a couple cues that you learn over time. also knows what he wants and is very meticulous in how he goes about getting it; there are very few places where he takes no for an answer. is a very good provider but don’t expect him to be mushy when you thank him for things he does for you.

oberyn martell: gemini sun & leo moon. he’s got more charisma than can fit in the ocean and sometimes it gets him into trouble. this man thrives on validation from loved ones. there is never a worry about not knowing what he’s feeling because oh boy is this man expressive. he’s a protector and a provider (and a gossip but don’t let him hear you say that). can and will cause a scene if there’s ample opportunity, he enjoys watching shit go down. will only interfere if it directly impacts him or someone he really cares about but otherwise will just pop the popcorn and pull up a seat. somehow has all the details of everything that ever happens but you learn to not question it.

pero tovar: scorpio sun (but specifically october scorpio) & aquarius moon. he’s highly rational when it comes to emotions but does have a temper. he’s observant af of his environment & the emotions of everyone around him, and chooses his actions carefully based on those. doesn’t confront his deeper emotions as often as he should bc it’s easier to default to Angy™️ and let the rest of the world come to their own assumptions. has no tolerance for lies and other bs, wants the truth and though it makes him seem power-hungry and manipulative, that’s not his intention. it’s just his way of looking for someone he can trust with the most intimate parts of him

marcus pike: this man? taurus sun, cancer moon. has a fear of abandonment that takes a while to quell but once it’s gone, he’s all in. he’s very empathetic and observant af, will know exactly what you need before you voice said need. will feel guilty for his baggage sometimes and the guilt will make him recluse for a short period until he’s reminded just how appreciated he is. does not play around when it comes to affection & is very eager to give and receive it whenever possible

my friends that i think might be interested: @scribbledghost @autumnleaves1991-blog @dyke--grayson @max--phillips @dindjarindiaries @pikemoreno @ohnopoe @pedropasscals @forever-rogue @engineeredfiction @bitchin-beskar

[yesttoheaven]

AMOR FATI

pairing – neil x female!reader

wc – 3.8k

warnings – mention of death, self-blame, anxious/intrusive thoughts, questioning reality, refusal of help, guns, stalking, but I swear there's a light at the end of the tunnel haha

a/n – The last time I suffered so hard for the death of a character, was when Newt died (Maze Runner) and now Neil has captured all my attention and his death has hit me in the same way 😩 I needed a happy ending so I decided to write this!

The Eternal Return and Amor Fati mentioned in this fic are one of the main ideas of Nietzsche's philosophy.

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

She approached the painting hanging on the wall, watching the details closely. Ouroboros. A serpent eating its own tail. Months ago, when Y/N was visiting an antique store in Mumbai, she saw that same symbol. The owner of the establishment approached when she realized her interest in the piece and explained that Ouroboros represents the ideas of movement, continuity and, in consequence, Eternal Return. A concept that the universe and all existence and energy has been recurring, and will continue to recur, in a self-similar form an infinite number of times across infinite time or space.

"Max finally fell asleep." Kat returned to the living room, attracting Y/N's attention.

She walked away from the painting, taking back her seat on the sofa and asked:

"How is he after everything that happened?"

For a moment, Kat looked at the painting on the wall and then at the friend she won in the midst of confusion over the Algorithm. At that time, despite being fighting on the front lines to prevent a possible Third World War, Y/N seems complete. Happy. Today that happiness no longer exists in her eyes.

Letting out a sigh, the woman sat next to her, answering:

"Sator was never a present father. He was always busy... now i can see the kind of work he was involved in. Anyway, Max just got used to his absence."

"It's notable that he's happier at your side. When we first met Max was a bit of an introvert, but today he is radiant." Y/N confessed, showing a small smile and the blonde shook her head, agreeing with her words. "How's everything?"

"Perfectly well. It's weird sometimes... After years of being stuck in a failed relationship, freedom is good."

"It seems like life is good for one of us." The woman let out a bitter laugh, putting the latest events on a scale, but she didn’t want her friend to think she wasn’t happy for her. She really was. "I'm sorry, I just..." The words remain stuck in her throat, while she covers her face with her hands. In addition to physical and mental fatigue, Y/N tried to hide her grief.

Kat touched her shoulder, showing that she was here.

"I know you're hurt, but it's been three months and you never talked about what happened that day... This is not good for you."

"What do I have to say, Kat? The guy I fell in love with was a fucking time traveler! And now he's dead and I don't know what to do. My life just... stopped without him."

"I can imagine how difficult it's for you to cross that line without Neil at your side, but giving up is not an option. Grief is consuming you little by little and you are just accepting it..."

"We are trained to contain our emotions and deal with death in the best possible way. It used to be easy for me, but then he came and turned my life upside down." Y/N put her hands on her knees and stood up, walking without an exact destination. "Neil was always one step ahead of us all..." She stepped forward too and found the painting again, but her mind was lost in thoughts about him. Neil knew her so well. And he had a charming smile, but completely arrogant at the same time. "I was sent to Mumbai to help two agents and when I arrived at Priya's penthouse that night, there he was. When he saw me, that was the first and only time that he let his guard down. I'll never forget how he looked at me, it was one of those breathtaking moments... Completely cliché, I know."

On the sofa, Kat was impressed. When Y/N turned towards her, there was a bright smile on her face. The simple memory brought her a breath of happiness and Kat enjoyed seeing her friend like that, but unfortunately that moment did not last long. Memories aren't enough. Neil is dead and nothing can change that.

"I miss him so much, Kat." The smile disappeared as soon as tears appeared in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks.

"My dear..." Worried about her, the woman got up quickly and approached Y/N, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'm really sorry."

"I spent the last three months locked up in my a-apartment because I thought I could handle this situation on my own. At times I b-believed it was just a fever dream... Maybe I was losing my mind, but this is proof that everything was real." Through tears blurring her vision, she looked at the watch on her wrist, remembering that night.

Y/N was in a private cabin on the ship. The others were with Ives and Wheeler, going over the mission in search of any loose ends. A standard procedure. Y/N knew she should be with them, but she needed a moment alone to organize her thoughts. And that moment is now. The past few weeks had been a real mess. The inversion was difficult to explain and mainly to understand. She was used to field missions, but being an inverted soldier on the battlefield was not in her plans. Either way, she agreed to be a part of it and running away with biased assumptions was not going to help. Humanity depends on them.

Three knocking on the door caught Y/N's attention, but she remained silent, waiting for the person to give up and leave, but when it didn't, she just murmured 'Come in'.

"So, here you are." The man used a surprised tone of voice and closed the door behind him. "What will our superior think when he learns that you are running away from the briefing?"

She let out a laugh before answering in the same mood:

"Don't worry, I know this mission like the back of my hand. I just needed a moment."

"There's something wrong? Are you ok?" Neil spilled the questions quickly, visibly concerned for her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Neil." Y/N smiled at him, but looked away just seconds later, confessing: "Maybe I'm a little surprised by the situation. I have spent years dealing with terrorists, but the inversion is really not my point."

"I'm not good with advice, but someone once said to me: Don't try to understand. Certain things in the world do not need an explanation."

"It's wise advice, but I'm a methodical person. Logic has always been my ally in missions."

"A methodical person, huh?" He asked with an arrogant smile playing on his lips and she just rolled her eyes. "I know how worried you were when Sator shot Kat, but we are using the inversion to save the world and you're one of the most brilliant agents I have ever seen. Everything will be fine."

"Are you praising me?"

"What's that? Can't I praise my partner's talent?" Neil pulled up a chair to sit across from her, crossing his arms.

"In that case, thank you. Remind me to put this on my resume." Those words made him laugh and that sound could easily be compared to music in her ears.

Touching her knee, Neil added:

"We are very confident with the mission. You don't need to worry."

"Are you sure?"

"I cannot say that unforeseen events do not happen, but we are prepared for that." Y/N knew he was right, but this mission is the biggest one so far. It's not about saving a country. It's about saving the entire world. This was arousing insecurities in her and it was like walking in a minefield. Ironically, she was familiar with this, but not in such catastrophic proportions. "I want you to have this." The man took his watch off his wrist and handed it to her.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" The question came out as a whisper from between her lips.

It didn't make sense. Why does everything in this conversation look like a farewell?

"We will be on opposite sides tomorrow, but i want you to know... I will always be with you, Y/N."

"I saw the way he looked at you... That's how I used to look at Sator before he became a monster in my life." Kat started, running a hand through Y/N's hair. "When I was lying on that stretcher and partially drugged with the medicines, I saw him beside you... watching you sleep. There was so much love in his eyes. Love for a lifetime, Y/N. So don't do this to yourself. The way he left hurt us all, but there was nothing you or any other agent could do to change what happened at Stalask-12. Neil saved the world. This gave us a second chance. You cannot give up now. This organization needs you. And keeping your mind busy at that moment is the first step towards a fresh start."

"N-No, I can't..." She broke the hug, shaking her head in denial. "I left the organization."

"What? Don't you work for Tenet anymore? But when we first met you told me that you can't imagine working in another area... And that this is your life's work."

"Being an agent is my life's work. I was in Yemen when Tenet found me and assigned me to this mission. My only job is to make this world a less hostile place, but the motto of this organization is not what I believe, Kat. What's happened's happened. Really? It doesn't work for me." Y/N ended the sentence with drops of anger in her voice and Kat did not say a single word.

Through the newspapers, Max's mother followed what was happening in Yemen over the years – a real endless war – and knowing that Y/N was in the middle of it, makes the situation unquestionable. People died in front of her eyes. Friends of the corporation. And then some time later, Tenet arrived with a fresh start, but in the end everything remained the same. She lost Neil. It is as if her life's work never had a happy ending because the world will never stop being a hostile place.

"He knows?" It was easy for Y/N to identify who she was talking about. The Protagonist. Or just TP.

"Here's another problem. I worked with him and indirectly worked for him at the same time! God, that man created this organization! And his name remains a mystery to us all!" She pinched the tip of her nose, feeling frustrated with all the secrets that haunt this organization. "And answering your question, yes, he knows, but he did not argue about it. I was a complete mess and he was not doing very well either... He stayed in my apartment for the first month, probably to make sure I didn't do anything stupid." And Y/N would be forever grateful for that. She likes him. Just as friends, of course. TP was a reserved man, but it was he who held her when everything was falling apart. "But we've had a fight. I blamed him for what happened at Stalask-12 and since then we haven't spoken anymore."

It was easy to see that they carried more pain than they could actually bear. Y/N lost her great love and the man lost his best friend. The situation just turned into a conflict between them and that was the result.

Realizing the sadness reflected in Y/N's eyes, Kat decided to change the subject of the conversation. Keeping that thought, she smiled and pointed to the painting on the wall. Maybe that could help.

"You seemed interested in this one."

"Oh yes, in my spare time I am a lover of art and its meanings. It is really attractive the way Ouroboros is connected to the Eternal Return..."

"And Amor Fati too." Kat completed, piquing Y/N's curiosity. This part was new to her. "It's impossible to affirm the Eternal Return without loving life. We need to learn that things happen as they do. Sometimes seemingly good. Sometimes seemingly bad. We don’t always get it our way... Unless we choose that whatever way it is, is our way. When we choose to Amor Fati, to love everything that happens, to love our fate, then we will always get it our way. Because the way it is, is the way it is. Unchangable. And therefore it must be good, even if it sucks."

These words touched Y/N's heart. This was a contradiction to what she is experiencing right now. Love your fate. She would like to understand and accept what happened, she really wanted, but why is it so difficult to move on?

Because Neil is dead.

That was the only explanation for her. The end of a relationship would be more acceptable. If he were alive, things would be completely different now. However, grief is overwhelming. How could she just accept what happened?

"I... I gotta go." That was all she managed to say before picking up her bag and leave the penthouse, ignoring Kat's protests.

When the elevator doors closed, an exhausted sigh left her mouth and the instant she saw her reflection in the mirror, Y/N wanted to cry again. After three months alone, she thought visiting her friend would be a good idea. Kat was willing to help, but the problem was that Y/N is not allowing herself to be helped. As soon as the doors opened, she left the metal box and found the hotel lobby partially empty. Her watch showed it was 3:13 AM, this explains the absence of people on the street as well. In front of her car, she searched the bag for the key and coincidentally her cell phone started to vibrate. Probably the text messages were from Kat, but confusion hit Y/N the instant she looked at the identifier and saw that the messages did not belong to any of her contacts.

Stay away from the car

They put a bomb

I'm on my way

Her first reaction was to take a few steps back and look around, trying to understand what’s going on and find the person responsible for these texts, but Y/N was alone in the dark street. When she thought it might be an unnecessary prank, a black SUV approached at high speed. The car stopped just a few meters away from where she was, but that was enough to make her body freeze.

"Y/N, come on!" The man exclaimed, the urgency in his voice would have made her run immediately, but she didn't move. Her feet had frozen on the floor. This cannot be real. "Come on, get in the car! We don't have much time!" He tried again, it was possible to hear the sound of the other cars approaching.

Y/N watched in slow motion the moment he left the car and ran towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"How is this possible?" She asked in a whisper, completely lost in his blue eyes.

"It's good to see you too." Neil admitted, feeling his heart race. She looked so fragile in his arms. Very different from the last time he saw her. "We have to go." He accompanied her to the car and as soon as Y/N took the passenger seat, he returned to his seat.

For her this moment was like a fever dream, so she just looked down and started counting her fingers. One, two, three, four, five... Neil noticed, but said nothing, just kept driving. The cars were fast approaching, but he would do everything possible and impossible to get Y/N away from these people.

"Give me your cell phone." He looked at her for a brief moment, but when Y/N didn’t react, he wasn't sure if she heard it, so he just took the phone from her hand and threw it out the window. That was enough to get her out of the numbness:

"What the fuck, Neil?!"

Despite the adrenaline rushing through his body, the man laughed.

"If I found you because of your cell phone, they can too." After that, he crossed the red light and made a risky turn, trying to end this chase. "Before you ask, no, this is not a dream. Unfortunately this is very real..." Neil didn't like what he saw when he adjusted the rearview mirror. "And now they are getting ready to shoot us."

That observation put Y/N on alert and she looked back, seeing a man with an AKS-74U and another with a Beretta M12.

"If you knew it wasn't a dream, why didn't you bring an armored car?" She ran her tongue between her lips, smiling at the man beside her. Neil tried to argue, but she just took off her seat belt and picked up the Glock 19 stuck in the vest he was wearing.

Y/N crawled out of the car and sat at the window opening. This encouraged the men in the two cars to start shooting, trying desperately to hit her. Neil shouted something that she couldn't understand and then she felt one of his hands on her thigh, giving her stability to continue with the plan. With her arm resting on the roof of the vehicle, Y/N aimed the gun at the car that was closest to them. Her intention was not to start a firefight in the middle of one of the main avenues in the city, but she had no other option. Holding her breath, she fired the first shot and the bullet hit the tire, taking the car out of circulation. Y/N celebrated while preparing for the second car, but dealing with this one was not an easy task. Now they were in a tunnel and, consequently, losing speed because of the other cars that came along the way. Neil left two pats on her leg, indicating that she had better get back in the car and that is what she did. Screams, honks and gunshots echoed through the tunnel, turning the place into a war zone. Whoever these men were, Y/N knew they weren't going to give up.

Tired of playing cat and mouse, she went to the back seat, getting on her knees. Through the broken glass above the trunk, Y/N adjusted the aim of her gun, ignoring the sniper and focusing on the driver. With another accurate shot, the bullet hit the man's chest and he lost control of the vehicle. The car overturned for a while, streaking the asphalt, but no other car was involved in the accident. Y/N sighed in relief and looked for another possible threat, just checking, but when she realized that the area was clean, she returned to the passenger seat, leaving the gun on the dashboard in front of her.

"Next time I'm going to get an armored car." Neil comments, stepping on the gas. "Nice shot, by the way."

"Anytime." Y/N smiled, trying to control her breathing.

With the adrenaline disappearing from her body, it was hard for her to believe that this was really happening. For many nights she cried, wondering what it would be like if Neil just came back to her, but now she was afraid to wake up and realize that it was just another vivid dream.

The sun was rising when they arrived in a shed away from the city. Seen from the outside, the place was a little scary, but the interior wasn't that bad. There was some equipment like trackers, walkie-talkie, bulletproof vests, weapons, ammunition; a table with a mess of papers and on the other side two beds and something that Y/N supposed to be a private bathroom.

"Where we are?"

We. That simple word echoed in her mind. Y/N thought that "we" didn't exist anymore.

"For now in a safe place. It's dangerous for you out there." He answered the question and took a bottle of water, handing it to her after taking a generous sip.

"Who are these people, Neil?" She wanted answers, lots of answers, and that frustrated the british spy because for the first time he didn't know what could happen.

Neil had a mission and that mission ended with him dying in Stalask-12, but after what TP did, everything changed.

"We have a name..." He wanted to say more, he wanted to reassure her, but that was all he had at the moment.

Y/N drank some water and left the bottle on the table, looking at some reports and photos. All photos were of the same man.

Lenard Vaher

"But apparently they don't just want you..."

It took a few seconds and when the realization hit Y/N, concern appeared on her face.

No, not him.

"Where's TP? He's safe, right?"

"He was going to see you when Lenard's men kidnapped him. This happened three weeks ago." And considering the anger in Neil's voice, finding TP was proving an almost impossible task, but in the midst of so much concern, one point attracted Y/N's attention.

"You said he was going to see me..."

"There was something he needed to tell you." Neil sighed, resting his hands on the table. A few strands of blond hair fell over his forehead, but he quickly shook his head back, as he always did. "He returned to Stalask-12, Y/N."

After that statement, the only sound that could be heard was Neil's footsteps closing the distance between them and the first thing she did was put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Neil smiled. And that was not one of his famous smiles. That was a shy smile. His heart was beating like a drum and it was all because of her. Loving Y/N was something so special and pure, that Neil accepted his fate without a second thought. Saving the world, he was giving her a second chance to live, but now he is the one who received a second chance.

"I missed you every day." Before she could begin to consider the meaning behind his words, he settled his mouth upon hers, robbing her of thought.

She closed her eyes and melted against him, flattening her hands on his arms. Neil caught her bottom lip in his teeth, nibbling and licking at it until she thought she might perish from the intensity of the feeling. She whimpered at the sensation, and he rewarded the sound by deepening the kiss, giving her everything she desired. His tongue stroked hers, slow and insistent. A lush, decadent pleasure unfolded within them, snaking through their veins as though it had lain coiled in anticipation for years.

Just waiting for this moment.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

a/n – really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ;)

[prfctethereal]

My Everything - Tom Riddle x Reader

pairing: tom riddle x reader

word count: 3,175

a/n: uhh this is my first one shot imagine thing so i hope it doesnt stink. I’ve already posted this on ao3 but i thought i might give tumblr a try. -kennedy

***

A cold winter’s day was nothing as the potions classroom steamed up in the heat. Stressed students in their last year of school fumbled with their cauldrons, scribbling notes onto their parchment, trying to remember everything they would need for their NEWTs coming up in June. Smokey fog misted the room, suffocating the students. If only someone could crack open a window - too bad they were in the dungeons.

On today’s agenda, Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world. It was only revision but since I had done so poorly on it last year, I was determined to get a higher score this year. Luckily, we could choose our potions partners in our seventh year, so I partnered up with my best friend, and exceedingly talented potions maker, Tom Riddle.

I’ve known Tom ever since year one. My nervous self lost on a train in a sea of strangers, unsure of where to go, unsure of where to step. Everyone seemed so intimidating and daunting; I struggled to even speak up and talk to anyone. Alone I sat, in an empty compartment, scanning my new textbooks so I wouldn’t seem so daft.

It was hard being muggleborn. I thought I would’ve been behind everyone academically, only just learning about the wizarding world last May when I turned eleven and got my Hogwarts letter. Of course, I was ecstatic - who wouldn’t be? The idea of magic had always fascinated me, growing up on fairytales and myths. But then, I traded in Snow White for Standard Book of Spells: Volume One.

Yet, as I saw the compartment door open and I locked eyes with a reserved, charming boy, I sat my book down and gave a small smile. He returned the smile with a wave, before turning his attention to the spell book in my lap, cocking an eyebrow up.

“Getting a head start?” The strange boy had asked. At that moment, I had to decide what to say. I could tell the truth and reveal that I was a nervous muggleborn who was afraid of knowing nothing in my classes, but I had already heard about the prejudice around muggleborns. Many people believed they were inferior to pureblood wizards and I wasn’t sure if this boy was one of those people. I was in no position to pass up a friendship. So I lied.

“I was just so happy to be going to Hogwarts that I just wanted to get right into the learning. I mean, I've been waiting to go for my entire life.” I stuttered out, praying that I had said the right thing. The strange boy’s face relaxed as he heard that and held his hand out in front of him, waiting for me to shake it. Hesitantly, I leaned over, taking his hand in mine. His fingers were cold and slender, curling around mine in a menacing manner. All my thoughts told me to get out of there, to run away before anything bad could happen, but I was so alone. I wanted a friend more than anything.

“My name is Tom Riddle.” His voice was smooth like melted silver, enchanting me. I could feel a pink tint rise on my cheeks, encapsulating my face in a blush. Looking down to avoid his piercing blue eyes, I smiled softly. I shook his hand as he wanted, pulling away. His hands were foreign and they felt strange wrapped around mine. Yet, so alluring.

“I’m [Y/N L/N].” I blurted, placing my hands in my lap nervously. Regret flushed into my veins as I watched his mind process what I had told him. Was my name too muggle-like? Had I given away my secret already? Yet, he smirked. A good sign, I had decided.

We talked casually for the rest of the train ride. Avoiding as many questions about my family as possible, I noticed Tom doing the exact same thing. So I never brought it up and he didn’t either. He seemed interesting though. Like his last name entailed, he was a riddle and I was curious to solve him. I was never going to get anywhere though with just small talk. I wanted to be closer to him.

At the sorting ceremony, I watched as he went up to the sorting hat. Immediately after the hat was placed upon his head, it exclaimed “Slytherin!” I had at least read up on the different houses at Hogwarts. I knew what Slytherins were about; their pureblood propaganda was almost impossible to avoid when reading Hogwarts: A History. As I saw the glint of passion in Tom’s eyes when he heard the house, I realised I had made the right choice to lie about my blood on the bus. He was ever so pleased to be a Slytherin.

When my name was called, I begged not to be in Slytherin. Tom would find out my secret if I was around him too much, so I asked the sorting hat not to place me in the house of serpents. The most I remember from that sorting ceremony was hearing “Ravenclaw” come out of the sorting hat’s mouth and fainting onto the cool ground.

Waking up in the hospital wing, my eyes fluttered open to see none other than Tom Riddle sitting in the chair next to me. He was looking out for me and at the moment, he became my best friend for the next seven years.

But now, we were seventeen years old, sleeves rolled up, sweat beading at our foreheads. I wiped it away panting heavily. I couldn’t mess up Amortentia for a second time; I would never hear the end of it from Tom. We were both top students in all our classes but in potions, he was definitely on top. As I shrugged my cardigan off, I heard him snigger under his breath, shaking his head while chuckling. I gave him dagger eyes before turning back to my potion. I knew he was mocking me for being stressed. Not everyone could be so calm while potion making.

“Do you need some help?” I heard Tom’s voice from behind me, as I flicked my head around, revealing his cocky grin, watching me from over my shoulder. My lips were pursed tight as I gave him a small smile, trying not to reveal that I was struggling. Yet, as I was about to add bat wings to the cauldron, Tom put his hands on mine, pulling it away from the bubbling mixture. “I think you do if you’re going to add uncut bat wings into the potion.”

Frantically, I looked over at my potions book, seeing that Tom was correct - they needed to be roughly chopped. Taking a deep breath, I listened to his laughs as I grabbed my knife out, chopping them up into big chunks before adding them into the deep, velvety mixture, and stirred it three times anti-clockwise. All I needed now was to wait for it to simmer, so I sat back in my chair, tying my hair up to get it off my face.

Joining me peacefully, Tom sat beside me, a smug look on his face. His potion was simmering now too. We were both very quick at making potions, even if his potions were of a better quality than mine. I closed my eyes, taking a whiff of the aromas in the room. Nothing distinct could be smelt by me, except for the boy sitting next to me. All I wished to do was fall asleep right now, but I knew that I couldn't do that, so I sat up to take the potion off the heat. It should be finished by now.

Tom followed me up and I looked into my cauldron, unsure if it was any good. Questionably, I turned my head over to Tom, hoping he could smell it and test if it was working right. Tom trusted me with the information that he was born out of a love potion and couldn’t love anyone, so if he couldn’t smell anything, it should be perfect. As I gestured to my finished potion, I offered him to smell it and he leaned in. When the fumes raised up to his nose, his eyes widened in shock, his pupils dilating.

“Well, I can smell something in there.” He laughed, but I just sighed, on the verge of tears. I really needed to make it correctly but I had messed up again. Tom noticed that I was about to break down and placed his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a small hug. His soft hands came to my cheeks, taking his thumb and rubbing my flushed cheekbone. “Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. Maybe we can restart it before Professor Slughorn comes to check on it?”

But, it was too late. Professor Slughorn had noticed the lack of us doing anything and had wandered over to us, excitedly. I tried to hide my scarlet cheeks from the old man, burying myself in Tom’s torso, yet Slughorn had arrived, eagerly wanting to smell my potion. Reluctantly, I took the lid off my cauldron and moved out of the way to let Professor Slughorn smell my Amortentia.

Surprisingly, Professor Slughorn smiled as he smelt my potion. Confused, I tried to study his face and find out what he was smiling about. My question was answered soon after. “It’s perfect, Miss [L/N], it’s absolutely perfect. I can smell my late wife perfectly. Outstanding work! A big improvement from last year, aye?”

I was so shocked by what Slughorn had just said that I just nodded and gulped, looking over to Tom next to me. He looked even more nervous than me, avoiding eye contact with me as Professor Slughorn walked off. “You said you could smell something,” I asked Tom, “so why did you lie?”

“I didn’t.” Tom said quietly, leaning over his own cauldron. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing nervously. I wasn’t paying much attention though, as I bent down over my own cauldron, taking in the aroma of the Amortentia. Old parchment, fire, and -

Tom caught my eye. His face looked pale, as if all the colour had been drained. Shyly, I looked away, turning my attention away from Tom and towards our teacher, folding my hands awkwardly in my lap.

“So, that’s the last lesson of the term. Over the holidays, I would like two rolls of parchment on the effects of Amortentia on a person. You may go now.” Slughorn said, before dismissing us. I grabbed my book bag before heading swiftly out of the potion classroom. As I left, I was met with a great gust of wind, sending shivers down my spine, cooling me down immediately, to a point where the sweat felt like icicles. Opening my bag, I searched for my cardigan, realising I had left it in the classroom.

Clumsily, I reentered the classroom, to see that the only one left in the room was Tom. He turned to me as I walked in, so I flashed him a calm smile. Strolling back to my seat, I took my cardigan in my hands, wrapping it around my cold body. Leaving the class, Tom followed after me, catching up to me and engaging me in conversation.

“So, everyone leaves tomorrow for the holidays.” Tom started, “What do you want to do first?” A dangerous smirk raised on his face, waiting for my answer. As a tradition, every year we stayed at school together, two of the only people who stayed, and caused mayhem to all the teachers and remaining students. It was the most exciting time of year. It always ended with us falling asleep on Christmas Eve in the Astronomy Tower, watching all the stars into the night. Unfortunately, this year was different.

“I have to go home this year.” Tom’s face fell as I said these words, his eyes filling with sadness. Before he could ask why, I answered his question. “I’m going to be eighteen soon and that means I’m going to get married. My parents want me to go home and meet my new fiancé that I’m going to have to marry. I’m sorry Tom.”

“Y-you’re getting married?” Tom stuttered, and he never stuttered. I looked away from him ashamed. He looked at me like I was some foreign person, someone who he didn’t know. I couldn’t even look at me.

“I’m sorry.” I spluttered out, as I turned the corner towards the Ravenclaw tower, leaving Tom down in the dungeons. I turned back towards him before quietly saying, “goodbye Tom.”

***

Morning broke and I woke up early to pack my suitcase up. Of course, I didn't want to go home. I didn’t want to be a victim to some muggle arranged marriage. In all honesty, my parents were ashamed of me being a witch. That’s why I never returned home each winter holiday, only going back to them in the summer holidays, when I needed to. Hoping that it would squash out the magic in my blood, my parents were forcing me to marry the blandest, most normal man they could find.

I decided to skip breakfast this morning, being unable to even look at Tom. Last night at dinner had been sufficiently awkward enough, even while ignoring him as much as possible. Yet, I could feel his eyes burning the back of my head the entire time. I couldn’t handle that again so I decided I could just get something to eat on the train.

It was currently nine o’clock in the morning. The train was scheduled to leave at ten so I had to hurry up, shoving as many as my muggle clothes in my bag as possible. If this day couldn’t get any worse, outside my window I could see the clouds closing in, small raindrops falling onto my window pane. Sighing, I pulled out an old sweater that I had given to Tom to borrow earlier this term. It still smelt like him - the smell was alluring.

The plan was to get out of the castle and onto the platform as soon as possible. I could talk to Tom one on one again once I had gotten back from my trip, but I was still terrified of what would happen. He was my best friend, surely he would understand?

Taking a carriage out of Hogwarts, I arrived in Hogsmeade, ready to take the train. With my suitcase in hand, I reached up to grab onto the train, yet I was pulled back onto the platform. 9:50am. The train would leave in ten minutes and I needed to get on. Also, it was raining harder now, and I wasn’t happy about getting soaked.

I knew it was Tom who pulled me away and I couldn’t disagree with his feelings. I had left him with nothing. I had ignored him for the past sixteen hours. I was being a bad friend, I know, but I couldn’t stand to see him sad and miserable. It hurt me. It hurt him. I hated seeing him hurt

9:52am. We had finally reached our destination. A small secluded area away from the platform. It may have been quiet but I was still being pummeled by the rain, shivering in my thin sweater. I looked up through my dew-covered eyelashes up to Tom, who stood much taller than me. His normally perfect curls were damp and limp, clinging tightly to his pale face. His eyes had a look of disappointment and confusion in them. His hands were resting on the sides of my arms, not letting me go. For a few moments, we just stood there, staring at each other, breathing heavily, until Tom finally spoke.

“Don’t go.” Tom finally said. 9:54am. I couldn’t find the words to say, the only thing coming out of my mouth was incomprehensible sounds.

“I have to go. My parents-”

“I don’t care about them. Stay here. With me.”

“What about my marri-?”

Tom looked away and I stopped talking. Out of instinct, I took my rain-sodden hand up to his cheek, turning him towards me. I leaned in closer to him, trying to get him to see where I was coming from. Yet, my heart fluttered at our closeness. He no longer felt cold, like when I first met him. His hands were warm. His eyes were kind. He was different.

“You will regret it if you go.” Tom muttered. “I know you will. I know you. And no man will ever know you like I do.”

9:56am. I really had to go, but I couldn’t leave Tom here. Slowly, I released him from my grasp and went back in, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him into a warm hug. His arms fell perfectly around my waist, pulling me in tighter. I never wanted to move, but I felt his hand leave my waist. My heart fell for a moment until he reattached his hand to my chin, tilting my head upwards. That’s when his lips connected with mine.

His lips were soft, something I didn’t expect. Truthfully, I didn’t expect a kiss at all. It was innocent as small as first, slowly releasing me, but it wasn’t enough. My heart wanted more, so I cupped his cheeks with my hands and pulled him in for another kiss, more passionate than the first. Our lips were synchronised perfectly, our touch igniting each other. It was as if I had never been happy before and Tom filled me with all the joy I needed. Then, he pulled away, placing a piece of my wet hair behind my ear. “Don’t go.”

9:58am. “I have to go. I can’t stay here. I’m not enough.” I looked down but Tom’s hand pulled me upwards again so I could feel his breath on my ear.

“I love-”

I pulled away before he could finish. He was making a mistake. He had no idea who I really was and it seemed like time to finally tell him.

“Tom, I am not who you think I am.” I started, feeling Tom’s eyes watching me intently. “I’m nothing more than a muggle born witch. I’m a mudblood. I’m nothing compared to you.”

9:59am. He didn't hesitate. He didn’t say anything. I was waiting for him to say something, to end this awkward silence, but instead, he just pulled me into another kiss.

“[Y/N] [L/N], I do not care that you are muggle born. You aren’t nothing. You are my everything and I love you. I love you so much.”

For one last time, he pulled me into a tight kiss and none of us let go. The rain poured down, keeping us in a tight bubble of our own heat. I could never let go.

10:00am.

I heard the train’s horn go but I didn’t care.

I pulled away, much to Tom’s despair, but whispered something, almost inaudibly.

“I love you too.”