#imm taking my time writing it because my brain is trying to get the words right..idont want to dissapoint | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

modern-oedipus · 5 years ago

Text

Rant I think

I have to keep remind myself that even though the person I love the most in the world is suffering and is not likely to stop suffering for the rest of his life, it is not entirely my fault and me blaming and punishing myself or thinking about just destroying myself won’t bring them further happiness and I must not take my own happiness away by my own hands... or should I?

I always feel guilty enjoying my life when my dad’s so stressed, but I can’t ever change him to open up no matter what I do; and he always works hard & says I should just enjoy myself and live my life & provides me with all good for that, but then whenever I see him being so upset— for years— and whenever I just... I don’t know. I literally went suicidal because of guilt of existing and being a burden back then, even though he explictly states that it’s his own choice to have kids, that he loves me, that he’s proud of me, that I mean the world to him, etc, and he proved his words thousands of times, but-

But he doesn’t seem to understand I care about him as much as he cares about me.

And I feel so guilty living my life and being happy when he is not.

But I can’t make him happy ornsolve his problems— those are real adult stuff that’s beyond my power.

But when I live my life and enjoy it I feel like I’m being ignorant and I feel so guilty.

When I punish myself for that— emotionally and literally, I end up depressed and not good. And that’s dangerous. Depression is so dangerous especially in such a young age that I am in, so god forbid that-

I don’t know what to do, honestly. I feel so guilty enjoying myself and I feel downright shitty if I don’t enjoy myself. Nothing solves the problem.

The regret and fear is always eating me alive.

Even though there is nothing I can do.

It hs been like this from as long as I can remember my life.

I just want him to be happy, well-rested, and at peace. He wants same for me.

We never get both in once. Bwcause he’s always the one who gives. Always so self sacrificing. I used to think my dad is absolutely perfect but I think that’s very damgerous to give too muxh of yourself even if it’s... family. I’m... grateful of course... how can I not... but then I feel like a parazyte or something....... and I wouldn’t exchange his well being for anything else......... and yet.... I.... uh... my head’s gonna burst. I am just typing because I pushed this thought away so many times in these last days and if I pushed it away again it’d lead a really bad breakdown. I need to avoid that so I need to speak. Not to anyone particularly. Maybe I should seek a therapist. But still. Only place I can apply due outside conditions would he that in myncollege and I don’t think there’s place there. But still. I can’t afford another depression in the years that should be the most fun so I’ll have to keep my mental heath in check no matter what. So I guess it’s better to just write it out— maybe not scientifically most suggested or verified theory but I can’t expect things to be perfect to start working on them.

So yeah.

Basically.

I am so full of love and life and joy nowadays.

But I also feel so undeserving for all or them.

Sometimes I feel smart and beautiful and productive and loved. Mostly.

Then I feel guilty for itntoo, even though I worked so hard for all of them— I worked so hard to understand all scientific shit, not only textbook wise but actual effort to adapt to scientific thinking. I worked hard in gym to get the body I want and I paid attention to my appearance and manners and culture, yet I still feel undeservjngn of beauty aometimes. I overcame social anxiety years ago and every friendship & communication I make successfully are big amazing achievements that may come naturally to extroverts but to me they took hard work. Sometimes, mostly, I’m like, “Wow Nila, well done! Amazing!” Then other times I’m like “Do you even?? Deserve your food?? Or your life??????? Do you even?? Deserve a warm bed when there are homeless people?? Do you even??? Deserve all these friends????? When you’re just?? You??? Do you even deserve enjoying your life when your parents are being quite exhausted and upset to provide for your spoiled rich kid life????” and...... like... this got me in serious depression before which onlynupsetted them further and they couldnt understand what was wrong woth me because they “gave me all”, emotionally and financially. They just couldnt ser that I felt like a parayste that’s sucking life out of them, as if Imm killing them by my own hands, andnidk.

Maybe I’m being too dramatic. Maybe that’s not the case. My parents strictly say they’re proud, that zi’m loved, that itms theirnown decision and not mine, etc., etc. I have no dark past, a clean family with no sad stuff or abuse or anything, and honestly, I don’y know.

I just want to see them happy and at peace too. Thst’s only way I can feel content. But I can’t change them. I can’t control a big majority of the spendings I have. I don’t know shat to fo. Thjs has been a problem for so many years. Itms not sth that appeared yesterday. Sometimes I can ignore. But then the feeling comes back like a ghost. That I’m undeserving. That I must be ashamed for enjoying myself.

I want to tell that it’s a lie, that it’s just a depressed thought and as a scientist I can’t trust a brain in clinical depression cause that’s chemical imbalance. That’s literally what keeps me sane, knowing that depression is a medical condition and any depression triggering thoughts are NOT REAL snd they’re just some medical imbalance of hormones and transmitters so I am just fine.

I’m not depressed, not really, I still feel excited and hupe and happy today. But this thought lingers. I couldn’tbhave afforded to push this thought away for the fifth time in last two days otherwise it’d break me. So I’f rather write it.

I keep telling myself that I am truly deserving to live and enjoy live.

I seriously had to rmeind myself two days ago like “just because you got a bad grade does not validate you starving yourself, you are deserving to eat rven when you are not doing well” tben I did buy myself my healthy food and ate it but...

Can I even... prove that I’m worth it??

Scientificaly??

I know for a fact rhat me trying is a good reason. Me working hard is a good reason. But not an enough reason. I need to be productive. I need to make myself happy. I need to make people I love happy. I neef to bring smiles to faces people I love— I need to get accepted to that project so I can perform researches when I’m off school so I can design drugs and save people so that my life and existence can be allowed and appreciated. I need to write fanfics and news and produce creative content to let my heart out and share joy with friends so we feel happy and alive and connected so it has a meaning. I need to save street animals so I actually have a meaning living my life.

Am I really deserving????

I am, I say myself, but then a voice whispers, but... are you sure?

I again say yes, I’m sure.

So far, I’m surs.

A little hesitant, but tjat must be some invalid creeping thoughtrather than a feality. Sveryone is deservijg of a happy joyful life so why not me??? I’d never say someone is undeserving of happiness unless that someone had an inexcusable crime like murder or something; and since that doesnt really happen in real life i’d sAy yes we all are deserving but...

I dkn’t know.

Maybe I should talk to someoen instead of mindlessly typing.

A therapist sounds nice but not too affordable. I’ll still try on Monday— wait no I hVe a midterm. Tuesday. I’ll try. If it’s not abailable maybe I can try some online therapy which is more convenient. I don’t know. Imm still feeling alive an happy and not detachef which is good but I don’t want this feeling to lead anywhere bigger, if it makes sensez

I just keep reminding myself that I am worth safety and love and joy as much as everyone else is

10 notes · View notes

dracosollicitus · 7 years ago

Note

I loved "Damerey 35+41". Broke my heart. PLEASE, tell me that you'll write a sequence where those two make up (after Rey punches him)!.

Ahhhhh here we go! @raissapl

also tagging @melanoradrood @therebeccaw @d4m3r0n @vegan-vulcan @dragonfodder44 @roguecompanion1812 @supremequeenofthenerds and @realmandamanda (who in some way asked for part two)

Part One (Where Poe Messes Up Big Time)

Word Count: 3783 words

In the following weeks, which bled into months, Finn didn’t speak to Poe. He understood, rationally, why his friend refused to make eye contact with him, why he got up from the table when Poe sat down - it just didn’t make it hurt any less. Poe was already lying awake at night in his bunk, clutching his mother’s necklace, unable to breathe from grief, begging the Force to bring Rey back, to let him find her - Finn’s patented “Pretend Poe Dameron Doesn’t Exist” campaign wasn’t helping matters.

Rose, at least, had more sympathy. “You’re a kriffing idiot,” she’d told him ferociously the day after Rey left.

“I know,” Poe said miserably, clanging his head against the side of the X-Wing they were both stationed at. He’d almost skipped his duties today, but Beebee had adamantly zapped him until he got out of bed. He didn’t pick his head up from the durasteel hull, and a warm hand wrapped around his arm. He looked over to see Rose smiling up at him, her eyes still angry, but the anger was combined with kindness.

“Now, how are we going to bring her back?” Rose asked. Poe smiled back at her weakly, his first smile since Rey had told him she was pregnant, and let his small friend lead him over to a holo-screen where she’d already begun calculations.

Ten weeks later, and no sign of Rey - no stations they’d checked with had taken in a new member recently (”But wouldn’t they lie and tell us she wasn’t there, anyway?” Poe had pointed out. Rose had calmly answered, “If she hears you’re looking for her, she’ll contact us. Dummy.” Poe didn’t want to question the confidence in Rose’s response - half out of fear of Rose Tico, and half out of hope that it was true), no whispers of Jedi activity, and absolutely no budging by Leia Organa, the only person who did know where Rey had gone.

She found him one day, curled up in the little utility closet Rey had converted into a scavenging station, ten miserable weeks after the Jedi had left. He was trying to catch even the slightest hint of Rey - the smell of her hair, an echo of her laugh - and he was crying well before the general walked in. He wiped his face hastily and stood at attention, well aware tears were still leaking out of his eyes.

Leia sat down on a crate near the door, and rested her cane in front of her. She regarded him heavily, but Poe waited for her to speak, his eyes boring a hole into the wall in front of him. “At ease, Commander,” she sighed, and Poe relaxed slightly. She patted the crate next to her, and he tripped over himself on his way to sit. Poe wiped his face one more time, and Leia’s wrinkled hand gripped his shoulder. It was like she’d cut something loose inside him, and he sobbed, a harsh, angry sound. The older woman rested her hand in his hair and gently guided his head down to her shoulder, where he cried, brokenly, for minutes.

When his breathing had quieted down, he could feel her expectantly waiting for him to say something. Poe wiped his nose hastily and sat up. Leia raised her eyebrows at him, and he fidgeted with his hands, unsure of where to start.

“You have one question,” she said calmly. “And I’ll give you one answer, but only if it doesn’t betray her trust.”

Poe reeled for a second - the obvious question was where is she? but that wouldn’t meet the terms Leia had just given him. “Is-” he croaked, and cleared his throat quickly. “Is she okay? Is she healthy?” Is she happy went unsaid.

Leia gave him an appraising look but then nodded curtly, tapping her cane on the floor. “I talked to her two days ago. She’s healthy. They both are.” Poe wept again, his face buried in his hands. Rey was okay - their baby was okay. She hated him, but she was alive, and their her baby was okay. He could - he could live with that. He’d have to live with that.

She’d said one question, but he pushed his luck because that’s what he did. As Leia was moving to stand, he gripped her sleeve the way a child would; when she looked down, her expression wasn’t unkind. “How far along is she?” He asked breathlessly. Leia’s eyes softened, and she reached out to cup his cheek.

“Twenty-four weeks,” she answered, her hand soft and warm on his face. “And that’s enough questions, Commander.” Leia left him then in the closet that had belonged to Rey, to think about the woman he loved and his child, out in the galaxy somewhere far, far away from him.

Twenty-four weeks. The number slammed into Poe over and over again while he walked to his station later that day. He counted meticulously backward in his head - he and Rey had only made love seven times - more if you counted stolen, quiet, happy moments in his bunk that ended with her sighing his name, her nails digging into his wrist or scalp - no, don’t think about that, not if you want to be useful at all today - he counted over and over again even though he knew the second Leia had given him the number, he knew when it had been. The second to last time they’d managed to fall together completely was -

Fourteen weeks - two, short months - before Rey had left. It was right before she’d taken off on an mission, and he had caught her by the hand after dinner, whispered in her ear, led her to his bunk, and pressed her into the mattress, trying to demonstrate with his body all of the things his voice couldn’t quite say, yet, the things he was too afraid to say in the grip of a war that threatened constantly to take both of their lives, to steal the future he so desperately wanted for them.

He didn’t have to wrack his brain to know what was different about twenty four weeks ago - something almost … mystical had happened, when they both cried out at the same time. Objects in the room had levitated, a golden, soft glow emanated from both of them, and a sense of intense purpose had washed over him as he gazed down at the woman he loved. “Is that you?” he had breathed, as the galaxy slid into place, locked, around them.

“It’s us,” Rey had answered, laughing lightly and leaning up to kiss over his heart, and then along his throat. Poe had surrendered with a groan, kissing her passionately, their breath intermingling, his body refusing to leave hers, even though it’d done its job admirably already.

Twenty-four weeks ago, they’d made a child - and fourteen weeks after that, he’d ruined their chance at making a family.

He’d never forgive himself.

A week after his conversation with Leia, Poe was standing in Central Command. He’d managed to shave this morning, after Rose steadfastly refused to call him anything but “Chewbacca,” for the last two days, and even bathed - with water, not sonic. Finn had actually looked at him during breakfast, and hadn’t gotten up from the table when he sat down, which made Rose beam and kiss her boyfriend on the cheek. Hopefully one day, Finn wouldn’t have to be coerced by the love of his life into being in Poe’s vicinity, but it was a step in the right direction.

He was chatting idly with Snap about mods to the new set of X-Wings they’d managed to get from a sympathetic Core World supplier when the transmission came in.

“Distress signal,” Connix announced, her fingers already flying over her holo-pad. “Projecting now. It’s from Designation Bravo - Papa - Romeo.”

Leia paled and raised her hand to silence a gaggle of junior officers in the corner who hadn’t heard Connix. Poe straightened up and listened to the transmission, the grainy quality interspersed with the distant sound of explosions.

“This is –tenant Rels– of the Resistance. Our base is — attack. First Order —gies spotted thr—ntes ago. Attack commenced imm–tely. This is not a mil—-ase. We informe—em that we are refugees, mostly women and childr— but they proceed–to–tack. Requesting immediate back—–ay the Force be with —-” A longer, horrible sound of static filled the transmission.

Leia turned from the screen, and Poe saw she was fidgeting with the golden dice she kept in her pocket. “Gold, Black, and Red Squadrons, you will assist immediately. Your astromechs will receive the coordinates to prepare you for the jump.” Connnix moved to alert the droids, and Snap and Poe nodded; they turned to leave. “Commander Dameron, report to me first.”

Poe walked over to Leia, his heart already hammering with typical pre-battle adrenaline. He itched to get in his bird, to do some kirffing good for once, to help-

Leia was terrified, and his world narrowed down to that fact. “What is it, General?” Poe asked, his legs screaming at him to run to the hangar, now. His squadron was waiting for him.

“Base Designation Bravo - Papa - Romeo,” Leia tensed her mouth for less than a millisecond before shattering what was left of Poe Dameron’s carefully constructed control. “It’s the base Rey went to, Poe. Kylo must know where she is.” Poe staggered, and Leia grabbed his elbow. “You needed to know. When you get there and if it’s clear enough - extract her. If it’s not too-” She stopped herself, but Poe knew what she meant. If it’s not too late.

He refused to accept that it could be too late. Poe nodded before sprinting for the door, ignoring the twinge in his back that he accrued the last time he’d sprinted like this for his X-Wing, the time a plume of fire had snatched away the lives of dozens of his friends, had destroyed the Resistance’s fleet - no. Today wasn’t going to go that way.

He made it to the hangar the same time Snap did, despite his near-minute head start. “Power up those engines, Beebee,” he called to his droid. It chirped in affirmation, and he felt Black One hum to life. “Alright, Black Squadron, we gotta clear the air, and then I need to retrieve something on the ground. Cover me as much as you can when I’m down there, but what I’m getting is more important than me.” Poe flipped the sequence of switches to engage his primary ion thrusters, and his squadron called back to confirm they were ready to fly. None of them asked what he had meant - they’d followed stranger commands from him.

They shot off from the hangar, and the second they broke atmo, Poe ordered, “Punch it, Beebee!” The streak of blue in Hyperspace wrapped around them, and Poe breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth, willing himself to calm down, refusing to conceive an image in his mind of Rey, pregnant and trapped below a First Order assault - “How much longer, BB-8?” Poe called back, and his droid squawked in indignation. Soon enough, apparently.

With a lurching kick, they dropped out of Hyperspace, and his squadron appeared behind him. “Going down. Keep tight to the surface, Black Two and Three, and clear any activity near the base. Black Four and Five, keep high, knock out any on our tail.”

“Wilco, Black One,” Jess shouted. “We’ve got your back.”

Poe gripped his controls and dived down into atmo, praying to the Force to give him luck just one more time, to get him through this at least until he knew Rey was safe, to -

They reached the coordinates of the base, and all around were the scattered remains of TIE-fighters.

“Did Gold Squadron beat us here?” Kare called out uncertainly. Poe shook his head, forgetting oddly that she couldn’t see him.

“Incoming!” Snap shouted. Two TIEs screamed towards them - but they weren’t heading for them, they were heading for -

A T-65, which performed a perfect barrel roll, and shot back towards them with frightening speed, not changing course.

“They’re going to run right into them!” Snap shouted. Poe engaged his cannon and pointed it at the TIEs, but the T-65 banked a hard left and blew them out of the sky before they could do anything. The ancient X-Wing did a lap, and he could see the helmeted figure looking around, searching for any more enemies.

Seeing none, the X-Wing headed for the ground. “Does any one else feel…unnecessary?” Jess asked. Poe snorted and guided his X-Wing to follow the T-65. As he got closer, his landing gear extended, he spotted an R2 unit in the back.

That was…weird. He didn’t think they made…R2s….anymore. And it looked awfully familiar -

He disengaged the lock on his canopy and climbed out of Black One. “Stay here, BB-8,” he ordered, a command his droid promptly ignored, dropping down and rolling after him. Poe rolled his eyes, checked his blaster in case any more unfriendlies showed up, and walked towards the T-65, whose canopy was currently opening. Black Squadron touched down behind him. “Stay in your ships,” Poe ordered. “We might have more company.”

“Roger that,” Snap said. Poe kept walking until he was right in front of the other X-Wing.

“Great flying,” he complimented. “We didn’t think this was a military operation.”

The pilot muttered a curse, and Poe frowned up at them. They hadn’t taken their helmet off yet, and they weren’t moving.

“Why don’t you come down,” he suggested. “Do a debrief, and then we can make sure your people are okay.” The pilot grumbled something else before shrugging. They smacked the release on their belt and rose fluidly. The jumpsuit they wore was loose in the shoulders, obviously borrowed, but it hugged their curves. A woman, then, and she raised her hands to her helmet and lifted it, shaking her hair out.

Poe stared in shock.

“Rey?” He said, tripping forward. “Rey, what are you –”

“Oh shit,” Jess whispered into the comms. “Oh shit.”

“This is awkward,” Snap muttered.

Poe ignored them and raised his hand up to help Rey down. She swatted it away and climbed the ladder on her own, standing before him with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“I had everything under control,” she said coldly. “No need for you all to waste your time.”

“We didn’t-” Poe couldn’t stop staring. “You-” A thousand emotions rippled through him, and he didn’t know which one to focus on.

Rey rolled her eyes and unzipped her flight suit, stepping out of it. She was wearing a soft tunic and leggings, the fabric around her abdomen revealing an undeniable bump.

“You’re so big,” Poe breathed, his hands lifting unconsciously.

“I beg your pardon?” Rey snapped.

Black Squadron groaned in unison over the comms.

“I thought the commander was supposed to be a player?” Kare snorted. “Legendary silvertongue, they said.”

“Beautiful-” Poe corrected himself hastily. “You’re so beautiful.” Rey shook her head and stormed away, and Poe stumbled after her. “Rey, wait -”

“I need to make sure everyone in the base is fine,” Rey snapped, waving her hand at him like he was a pesky insect. “Go away, Dameron, I’ll send my debrief to the general later.”

“No, Rey, please, talk to me,” Poe begged. The surface of the planet was muddy, and he lost his footing, tripped, landing on his knees. The sound got Rey to turn around, and well, he was in the best position to do this already. “Please, sweetheart, please talk to me. I made the biggest fucking mistake of my life, letting you go, please, you gotta-”

“Gotta what?” Rey snapped. “I don’t need to do anything, Dameron. You made your sentiments very clear. You want nothing to do with me, and I don’t need you to apologize about it now.” Poe gaped at her, and to his horror he saw tears in her eyes. “Just go back to central, and leave me alone.” She turned again, and he scrambled to his feet, now covered in mud.

“Baby, please,” Poe slid forward another few feet, and Rey froze, not looking at him. “I missed you, every fucking second of every kriffing day you were gone. You left before I could get to you, I - I misunderstood, sweetheart. I thought - I thought-”

“You thought I’d cheated on you with the Supreme Leader, and that he’d knocked me up?” Rey pivoted while she said this, her voice pitching upwards into a scream by the end.

“Ohhhhhh shit,” Jess muttered. “Oh fuck, Commander, what did you do?”

“That’s enough,” Poe barked. Rey stiffened in anger, and he held his hands out. “No, no, no, not you, sweetheart, please -” Rey made to turn around again, and Poe lurched forward, hands raised in supplication. He fell to his knees again - what the fuck is wrong with this planet? why doesn’t anyone else seem to be tripping? - and clasped his hands together beggingly. “I - I don’t think that anymore - “

“Oh, how generous of you,” Rey sneered, her hand covering her stomach protectively. Poe swallowed, tried not to stare at it, at the life she was growing inside of her. “How absolutely forgiving of you.”

“I fucked up,” Poe said, dragging muddy hands through his hair, tearing at his roots. “Please, Rey - I - I shouldn’t have let you go, but I thought it’s what you wanted, thought you didn’t want me around, especially not if you were-”

“Pregnant with a Sith Lord’s Force-Baby?” Rey scoffed.

“I didn’t care about that,” Poe said, his breath catching. Rey stared down at him, her hazel eyes angry and hurt, and he dropped his head, unable to look at her anymore, his shoulders sagging. “I didn’t - I wouldn’t care if it were true, Rey, and I wouldn’t care if you had slept with him. I was always so shocked that you’d settled for me at all, that you’d given any time at all to me. It was your body, and your life, and I had no right to dictate any of it, and I just wanted to support you.”

“You pushed me away,” Rey said, her voice breaking. Poe looked up, and saw that she was crying to match his own tears. “You - you made me think you didn’t trust me, that you didn’t care about me.”

“That’s just not true,” Poe insisted. “Kriff, Rey, I care about you more than anything else in the galaxy. You and - and our little - your -” He sagged again. “I love you both so much, Rey, and I need you to know that, I can’t have you living your life thinking that I didn’t- that I wouldn’t - I love you, and I loved you before we made that baby, and I loved you for all the days in between, and I loved you when I thought it wasn’t my baby - I love you, and…and I’m sorry that I fucked this all up, and I…” he trailed off, his throat closing from the knowledge that this was probably the last time he’d ever see her again.

“Does anyone have bang-corn?” Snap whispered. Four voices hissed at him to shut the kriff up.

“Stand up,” Rey said. Poe nodded miserably and complied, his feet slipping a little more. He had no idea what he looked like - probably frightful, mud-splattered from head to toe, wild eyed, panting - and Rey stared at him with an unfathomable expression in her eyes.

“I’ll go now,” he said softly, tears burning at the back of his throat. “I’ll go, and I’ll leave you alone. Just - I’m sorry, and I love you, and could you please tell him or her that I love them too?”

Poe began to turn, but Rey grabbed his arm. “If you walk away from me right now, every horrible thing I’ve thought about you for the last fifty-seven days, twelve hours, and six minutes will have been true.”

Poe faced her, disbelief blooming in his stomach. Rey lifted her eyebrows at him, her hand on her hip. “Well?” She demanded. “Were they true? Or are you the man I thought you were before you let me go? Because you’re going to have to stick around and convince me of that, now. If you’re up for it.” Her eyes flashed in defiance, but also in hurt and insecurity and fear, and all the awful things that were his fault.

“Wild rancors couldn’t drag me away,” Poe said, eyes wide as he took her in, this perfect, beautiful woman who was offering him - maybe not a second chance, but a way to earn a second chance. “Maker, Rey -”

“C’mere, flyboy.” Rey held her arms out, and Poe staggered forward into them, holding her tightly, marveling at the way her stomach pressed against his, the evidence of how much he loved her -

Black Squadron cheered loudly into the comms, wolf-whistling and hollering. Poe flicked them off behind his back before pulling Rey closer to him, one of his hands drifting to hover over her stomach. She nodded in consent, and Poe stroked his thumb over the side of her belly, and he laughed shakily.

“Thank you,” he murmured into her hair. He kissed the side of her head and wrapped her up even more tightly in his arms. “Thank you, Sunshine.”

“Don’t ever let me go again,” Rey threatened. “Or I will kick your ass to the Hosnian system.”

“Deal,” Poe laughed again, burying his face in her shoulder.

Suddenly, a thought dawned on him, and his spine stiffened.

“Rey,” he growled, straightening up. She quirked her brow at him. “Rey - what the fuck were you doing flying like that? You could have died!”

“Oh, that’s rich!” Rey shouted back. “You don’t get to skip out on my life for months and then swoop back in and tell me how I should be-”

They argued back and forth for another ten minutes, Black Squadron ooh-ing and aah-ing like it was a Limmie match, before they settled the fight as a draw.

(Okay. Rey won.)

#damerey #jedipilot #poe dameron x rey #poe dameron human disaster #angst #sequel #prompt #happy ending

52 notes · View notes