#kd-heart

[drfrankendyke]

[ando666detonao]

i feel like we need to address this bit of dialoge WITH WHAT CO-WORKER DO YOU SELF SHIP YOURSELF WITH YOU FREAK

[lgbtqreads]

Fave Five: Softball/Baseball Romances

Playing for Keeps by Jennifer Dugan (f/f YA) The Prospects by KT Hoffman (m/m) Unwritten Rules by KD Casey (m/m series) Heart of the Game by Rachel Spangler (f/f) You Should Be So Lucky by Cat Sebastian (m/m Histrom) Bonus: These are all prose novels, but for a graphic novel series, check out Grand Slam Romance by Ollie Hicks and Emma Oosterhouse (f/f))

[skinnypaleangryperson]

This is by far possibly my favorite scene in the entire series unless they do something similar in the future. The music absolutely gets to me, Diane is so sweet but has a certain kind of edgy jaded voice to her at the same time which is exactly what you would expect for Rick's taste and for what he's like. She seems so naturally intellectual and smart at least on an emotional level and Rick is so whipped and almost endearingly apologetic compared to her; she seems to have a certain kind of natural confidence about her that Rick respects and brings out how sappy and gentle he actually can be. They do seem like they're perfect for each other, they both have those tired bags underneath their eyes and are worn and sweet, jaded but romantic and gentle and seem to have a drinking problem and seem to be impulsive in the same way-and the fact that knowing even though they're having this conclusion and heart to heart but there's really no a genuine way for Rick to tell her these things in real life and that he can only dream about it or have surreal experiences like this every now and then just makes the parts where he tells her that he can't let go of her or move on even more human.

The reason why I'm so melodramatic about Rick's backstory with Diane and his love for her is because it's so real and human; I know a lot of people and hear of a lot of people and have experienced it myself what it feels like to love a singular person so deeply for a reason that you can't explain and literally cannot let go no matter how many years pass. It's so wretching. This is old Disney movie level scene magic.

[databent]

how are we all feeling about the samsung emoji update.

[meansevika]

[lesbianjennette]

im thinking abt wmmal again specially lp verse..... they way that neither of the girls in lp wldve made good empresses... like its a point (? if im rmmbrinf correctly) in the story that lp!jennette was not a good empress, but lp!athanasia wouldnt have been either. shes meek and demure, and while smart still had limited education was not brought up to be the empress. neither of them were, one was forgotten and one was raised as a pawn.

[cohendyke]

ur music taste.. kd lang.. <3 ellie im literally in love with u

WAHH… you get it 😭😭 (crazy rant incoming) she’s the light and love of my life. she’s so… ugh. there are genuinely no words. watching her sing hallelujah at the 2010 olympics at the ripe age of seven made me what i am today (gay.) she is so criminally underrated but god. she’s one of the few singers that’s like. exactly the same live and recorded and her voice is so fucking gorgeous. i think if i somehow ran into her i would just fall to my knees and cry…. like i would melt into a puddle. so very iconic of her to be out and herself in like. the 80s/90s. anyway this is my excuse to drop some of my favorite old pics of her cause 💔💔💔 OUGH… OW…. WOMAN….. don’t get me wrong she could absolutely still get it but if i was alive in the 80s/90s i would have gone actually insane….

ok last thing i’ll say. ITS ABOUT THE FUCKING!!! HANDS!!! HOLY FUCKING!!!!! UMM!!! OUGH OWIE UHNNMM…. UHHHHHNG!

[mythicalartistx]

Which heart did Yozora'd take to change his form?!?

When conversing with Nameless Star, they tell you the person who is looking for her form has been changed beyond recognizing it. And their heart had been replaced.

This is all referring to Yozora, but What if by some weird way, Yozora had somehow got Riku's heart?

After all they look similar. Yozora looks like both Riku and Sora so it would make sense. However it could also be related to Noctis from ff15.

After life

And this is because he also looks like him, but there was a game called Versus XIII that never made the light of day.

What if because of that some FF stuff is related since kh4 and the unfinished game were both supposed to be about the afterlife.

Now kh4 is because Sora abused the power and disappeared/died. Strelitzia then tells Sora in the trailer that for them it's a place after death, unlike the normal people who live there.

[scottstiles]

MAXWELL SHEFFIELD MAN OF LETTERS

[academyoftheheartandmind]

13 Halloween Tales: McGinnis and Me by KD Smith

When Mom told me we were moving, I was ticked off. Their divorce wasn’t my fault, so why was I being punished? I didn’t want to leave my house or my friends, but I had no choice. And I wasn’t nice about it, either. Mom found a creepy old Victorian at the edge of the smallest town I’d ever seen. The house once belonged to her favorite childhood writer, Audie Louise Frank, author of the…

[humanoidtyphoons]

love it when rage and desire for vengeance trumps all

[obita-wanita-kenobi]

All jokes aside, but the Barbie movie really is an ode humanity through and through. My god?

Like obviously the patriarchy vs. matriarchy, flawed feminism, women's position in society, etc. topics are absolutely perfectly executed and discussed in the best (and funniest) ways possible.

But in the end it's about what it means to be human, to live in the real world. And how to survive it.

When Barbie's monologueing to Ken about what it means to be him without her. What it means to be Just Ken without Barbie, she's not only talking about him. But also about herself.

In the end both Ken and Barbie find out who they are, how they fit in their respective societies and what they want in life. Barbie wants to be, not just exist, but to be.

And even the Ken's find their identity. And their new place in society.

Barbie shows life far from perfect, but exactly because of that so worth living. It has hardships, yes, so Barbie finds out. But it also has adventures, love, company and most of all fun. The movie tells you all this, and is still absolutely camp and fun.

10/10 execution imho

[campingwiththecharmings]

omg please i'm

penitence

poe dameron x reader

summary: you killed a pregnant woman that tried to kill you. guilt invades you after the adrenaline goes away.

warnings: obvious mentions of death, injuries, blood, self defense kill - not detailed just mentioned, pregnancy, guilt, trauma. please don't read if any of this triggers you!!!!!!!

tags: uhh obvious angst lol. gn!reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, poe doesn't really know what to do to make reader feel better but it's okay because he's trying to help and he's doing his best and he's sweet anyways<3

word count: 0.9k

why does that gif look so small on mobile

Poe hopped out of his X-wing, his knees feeling the shock of his leap. He hastily took his helmet off and put it at the feet of his ship, putting his stuff back in place being the least of his concerns at the moment. 

Your ship was there on the tarmac, but there were no signs of you around; and Poe knew there wouldn’t be when he saw your distraught look before you jumped into your X-wing and took off. No one had seen you since, and Poe figured you didn’t want to see anyone, but he needed to see you.

That’s what had led him to look everywhere around base, asking anyone if they had seen you, brushing people off when they needed to talk to him about commander stuff. 

A sigh of relief escaped his mouth when he found you sitting on the floor of an empty briefing room after looking for you for what seemed to be so long, after looking into so many similar rooms to this one. 

“Hey” the sound came out as a soft exhale, and he cautiously walked up to you.

Your knees were brought to your chest, your gaze lost somewhere deep in your thoughts. You only noticed him once he was standing in front of you, and he knelt down to your level once you acknowledged his presence. He took your bruised, dirt smudged hand in his and softly brushed the safe parts, avoiding your bleeding knuckles. He noticed there was dried blood under your nails when your grip tightened around his own hand.

He looked up at you, brushing away the strands of hair falling over your injured face with his free hand, your gaze avoiding his. You wouldn’t look at him, you felt too ashamed to do that.

“Hey” he called again. “Are you okay?” he asked, trying to catch your gaze.

“How can I possibly be okay, Poe” you questioned rhetorically, finally looking at him.

“I know, I meant–” he wiped your nosebleed off with his sleeve, smudging the blood above your mouth. At least it stopped leaking. “Physically.”

“Think my nose’s broken” you muttered weakly, looking away from him.

“Sweetheart you need to go to medbay” he declared, putting his hand over your shoulder.

You bit your busted lip and frantically shook your head, tears teasing your eyes. You refused to leave this room, you refused to have anyone see you after what you did, even Poe’s gaze felt too heavy on you, and the maker knew how much you trusted Poe and the fact that he would never judge you.

“I’m a monster Poe, I’m a monster” your voice betrayed you, because if you seemed numb until then, the crack in your voice exposed your obvious emotions. 

“No you’re not,” he whispered, his brows knitted together. “You did what was the only way for you to escape the situation” he tried to reason with you, but you kept on shaking your head, refusing to hear any defense for your side.

“She was pregnant Poe, she was going to have a child” you insisted, not trying to contain your tears anymore. Your whole body felt numb, your injuries felt numb, but everything inside felt too much, too vivid, too present.

“She attacked you, it was self defense” he said kneeling closer to you, his soft eyes hardening when he realized how much you blamed yourself for making a choice you didn’t even have time to think about.

“Probably had a partner that expected her to come back with their future baby. I ruined lives, I ruined a family” you cried, grabbing his hand harder.

“She tried to kill you!” he whisper shouted. “It was you or her”

“So two lives against one Poe” you declared looking up at him, and he closed his eyes and sighed, nodding a bit. “Hypothetically how would you feel if it was us? If you were the one waiting for me to come back home with our child?” you asked, tilting your head, now being the one to try to catch his gaze. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty, you just wanted him to see your vision and your side of the situation.

“Hypothetically I would feel guilty for making you go out there carrying our child”

“Maybe she didn’t have a choice” you immediately retorted. You felt the need to defend her, even if she tried to kill you. You felt like you owed her that from taking her life and her child’s.

“Maybe.” he shrugged. “We don’t know, we’ll never know” he frowned, bringing his hand up to your face to gently stroke your cheek. “Baby we’re living in a war, maybe she would have died some other way. We have no idea. All I know is that it’s done and that no matter how much you hate yourself for what you’ve done there’s no coming back.” 

Then you broke down. No more trying to bargain, no more trying to blame yourself, no more trying to defend this woman and her child. 

Tears, just tears, tears of endless guilt, tears of relief too, tears that Poe wiped away with his thumb trying to avoid the injuries on your face. 

Poe took you in his arms and you buried yourself against his chest until you only smelled him, until your vision was completely blacked out, your bruised knuckles that would normally turn white from the pressure with which you fisted his flight suit now bleeding out, the red liquid running down your hands.

Poe cradled the back of your head, shushing your cries and whispering soft words into your ear. 

You knew it would take you long to even accept the fact that you did what you did, but at least you knew Poe would always be there by your side when you have nightmares about it.

—

star wars taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @beccabecs521

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 20 of 20

The first year, Kara knows she made the right decision. But that doesn't make it any easier. She retreats for a good week and a half before she forces herself out of her apartment to walk the streets of National City. Day after day she wanders, until one afternoon a spot of color catches her eye.

A butterfly alights on a park bench-- perhaps, Kara thinks, the same one she and Lena had sat upon-- and sits, lightly winking its wings open and closed. It seems out of place, even in the park, at odds with the industrial buildings and zooming cars. Kara sits and stares, thinking unable to help the next thought that runs through her mind.

I wish I could show Lena.

There's nothing that says she can't... the split was amicable, and maybe-- maybe they could still manage to be friends. But as soon as Kara snaps the picture on the phone, she knows she can't. They were never really just friends, were they?

She almost deletes the picture. But at the last minute, she simply slips it into a new folder in her photos app. There it lives, soon to be joined by other images she captures on her walks.

Kara sends a few to Esme, just to satisfy her trigger finger that wants to fire the thing off to Lena. On Kara's birthday a few weeks later, Esme gifts her a slip of paper with an instagram username and password. When she logs in she finds a carefully curated feed of her National City photos, with simple descriptions and minimal hashtags.

It takes her breath away, to see the images reframed not as the product of her heartache, but as hidden glimpses into the city. It makes them less her guilty pleasures, and more... a gift.

It sparks something in Kara, inspires her to continue, and expand her horizons beyond city limits. She starts hiking, first with Esme, then on her own. She buys a real camera and enrolls in classes to learn how to use it.

By the start of year two without Lena, she's hopping planes to other countries, other continents, in search of secret vistas to capture. Her instagram turns into a sister channel for a travel blog, which gains her followers and a small amount of popularity online. She's careful, though, not to put her face on it. She operates faceless, under the penname of KD, and that's enough for her.

She can't say if she hides her identity to ensure any traction she gains is for her work rather than her brief stint as a celebrity's date, or whether it's to keep her work more honest (its more rewarding to find areas on her own, to travel on her own terms than it is be sponsored or reviewing upon request). Or maybe it's simply to avoid the restrictions that notoreity had put on Lena. Not that Kara thought her site could elevate her to such a status, but... she's content with who she is, and how she is.

Every so often, the magazines and tabloids explode with news of Lena, and each time Kara's heart breaks a little-- even as it beats a little harder.

First, there's a bit of a hubbub about ownership rights of Lena's first three album masters. But then, six months later, Morgan Edge is indicted on charges of sexual assault, sexual harrassment, sexual abuse of minors, and emotional abuse. Lena isn't listed among the identified plaintiffs, but Kara knows. Kara knows, and her hear breaks.

The world is shocked when Lena testifies to her own abuse at Morgan's hands, the world is shocked, but Kara isn't.

Kara *is* surprised when news breaks of Lena obtaining new management shortly after the trial. Though the press frames it as Lillian retiring, Kara knows nothing short of a cataclysmic schism could cause a split between Lena and her mother.

And when Lena does release new music, three years after she leaves Kara in Alex's driveway, it sounds... different. Not a bad different. A good different. Kara has known since Paris that Lena's personal life fuels her songwriting, and it's clear that's still the case-- just as its clear that this album had been written in the midst of the legal battles and personal journey of confronting her abuser and coming out the other side.

When Kara listens, she hears acceptance, empowerment, and forgiveness. She hears Lena's value in herself, and a strength in herself that Lena has fully embraced. One song in particular resonates, not just with Kara but seemingly the entire planet. When Kara watches the VMAs with Esme that year, Lena performs *that* song with a full chorus of women behind her, making it a veritable anthem for victims' strength.

If Kara cries, she knows she's not the only one. It may no longer be her place to be proud of Lena, but she is. She is so, so proud.

After that, Lena becomes more visible. She takes more interviews, more guest appearances on talk shows to both advertise her new album and to advocate for victims and the charities that proceeds from the album will support. Kara doesn't go looking for these interviews, but when she sees one playing in the airport lounge she can't help but stop and watch, and marvel at the peace she can see in Lena's features.

Right around her birthday, five years into her travel-photography life, Kara readily accepts Esme's invitation to help her tour Metropolis University. They make a weekend of it, including sight seeing around the city, and even getting last minute seats to the taping of a talk show.

To their shock and surprise, the guest who walks out is Lena herself.

Kara clutches Esme's wrist, who blanches under Kara's accusatory glare. "I swear I had no idea!" Esme hisses. Her eyes are wide and frantic. "Do you want to leave?"

Part of Kara does want to leave, but she knows that bustling out now would only call more attention to themselves. So she simply shakes her head and settles in.

The interview starts just like all of the others Kara has watched over the years. Good natured banter, then a segue into the purpose of Lena's visit. She discusses her philanthropy, her album, all the usuals, and Kara sits enraptured.

Her heart flutters at the smooth cadence of Lena's voice, richer and more velvet than Kara remembers. And the Lena she remembers had always contained such coiled energy that Kara wondered how she ever sat still. But now, she's relaxed and at ease-- upbeat and engage, but with a calm she didn't have five years ago.

Towards the end of the segment, Lena asks to share something new.

"Well, some of you may have heard it, but it doesn't officially come out until next week, so it's *mostly* new. I wrote it a while ago, when a relationship was still new, so-- here's to all the people hoping for more."

A production assistant carries out an acoustic guitar, and when Lena starts to strum, Kara's heart leaps in her throat. The lyrics Lena sees are bright and hopeful... starry-eyed if a song could be such. It's a song of a crush hoping to be something more, a promise of love if only it were accepted.

Kara can feel Esme swaying to the tune, bopping just a little bit to the chipper beat, but she only has eyes for Lena. For most of the song, Lena looks either at the strings or the middle distance. But then, as the bridge leads into the final chorus, she scans the audience.

Holding her breath, Kara expects Lena's gaze to slide right past her. But with wide eyes of her own Kara sees the moment Lena catches sight of her. Green eyes widen momentarily, sparking with surprise, then pure delight. Lena's features spread into a kilowatt smile before she slides her gaze away. Kara swears the strumming gets a little more enthusiastic, Lena's voice a little brighter.

When it finishes, the applause from the audience should be deafening, but Kara can barely hear it, even when the crowd stands in ovation. She watches as Lena and the host exchange thanks and pleasantries, and then Lena exits, still waving and beaming.

Kara leaves with the rest of the audience, numb and quiet as Esme stands anxiously beside her. Had that song-- could it have been about--

"Wait!"

A vaguely familiar call makes Kara pause. She and Esme turn to see a young woman with dark hair trotting towards them.

"Excuse me!" Jess calls as she nears. "Would you come with me please?"

Esme's hand closes defensively on Kara's, but Kara responds before her brain can talk her out of it.

"Sure."

Jess leads them back past the soundstage, through a maze of turns that terminates in a cinderblock hallway lined with doors. Kara doesn't have to guess who's behind the one Jess drops them in front of.

Jess meets Kara's gaze with a smile. "It's good to see you again, Miss Danvers."

Kara can barely offer a smile back before Jess reaches out to turn the knob. The door opens.

Lena stands on the other side, a respectful distance from the door but plainly anticipating their arrival. She straightens as the door swings wide, and Kara can barely bring herself to step inside for the way their proximity has turned her legs to jelly.

Lena smiles. "Hey there," she exhales.

"I--" Kara's voice cracks, forcing her to try again. "Hey."

"Hi, Lena," Esme offers nervously. Kara could kiss her. The distraction pulls Lena's gaze from Kara, giving her the chance to catch her breath.

Lena's eyes widen slightly. "Esme?! Wow, look at you! Does this mean you're too old for a hug now?"

Esme giggles. "No!"

The two hug warmly, and Kara's amazed to see that Esme is almost taller than Lena, now.

"I loved the new song," Esme tells Lena, grinning.

"Thanks," Lena returns. Her gaze slides back to Kara. "I've been profiting off my pain and heartbreak for years. Figured it's time for some of the good stuff to see the light of day."

Kara swallows thickly. "Was that about..."

Lena nods, shifting self-consciously on her feet. "Yeah." She looks at Kara, her gaze open and vulnerable. "Did you like it?"

"Did I--? Lena, I think everyone in the world is gonna like it."

"No offense to the rest of the world," Lena says in a low voice, "but I don't care what they think."

Kara can feel Esme's eyes bouncing between them.

"Honey, could you give us a minute?"

"Yep," Esme says swiftly. "Right. I'll just go wait... It was Jess, right?"

The door closes, leaving Kara and Lena in a room charged with electricity just waiting to spark.

"Do you still feel that way?" Kara can barely bring herself to ask the question, but knows if she doesn't she'd regret it forever.

Lena shifts again, wiping her palms on the front of her jeans. "Would it make any difference if I do?"

It's a fair question. Has anything really changed? Lena is still a critically acclaimed and internationally beloved artist, and Kara... Kara pauses.

Lena's circumstances may not have changed, but Kara's have. She isn't a forty year old a hairsbreadth away from a mid-life crisis anymore. She isn't miserable in her day to day. She lives comfortably doing something she loves, something she knows she'll never give up. And though she may not have had any serious relationships since she last saw Lena, she's closer to her family than she's ever been. She isn't *alone*.

That knowledge allows her to offer the truth.

"Yes," she breathes. "It would."

Lena's eyebrows lift hopefully, an astonished smile sprouting on her lips. Then it softens to a mirthful grin. "Slower this time. Lest I whisk you away on tour again."

"Hey, now," Kara chides softly. "We had some good times on that tour. All five weeks of it."

Lena laughs, the sound bright and happy and golden. "Yeah," she agrees, before falling quiet. She gazes at Kara with soft eyes. "I've missed you, Kara. You have no idea how much."

"I might have some idea," she allows, thinking of her own life the past five years. "A lot has happened I've wanted to tell you about."

Pressing her lips together, Lena guiltily shoves her hands in her pockets. "I... I think I might have already seen some of it."

Kara blinks. "What?"

"Okay, maybe all of it? KD Photog on insta?"

"Wha... how!?!?"

"I saw a picture on insta of a park that seemed familiar, and when I looked a little closer, I found out the photographer lived in National City. I swear I didn't know it was you, I just admired the photos. It wasn't until I followed to the website that I suspected."

Kara stares at her, breathless. "Wow," she exhales.

Lena's expression falters. "I didn't mean... I'm sorry, I guess I should have-- I should have stopped reading once I suspected."

"No, Lena, it's fine," Kara reassures her, regathering her wits. "I don't mind. It's just..." She hesitates for a moment. "Esme is the one who actually first set up the instagram account. I'd sent the photos to her... so I wouldn't send them to you."

Green eyes blink at her, shocked. "Oh."

"I never thought you'd ever see them," Kara continues. "But I'm glad you did. Because I did want to show them to you. Every single one."

Lena's eyes crinkle at the corners. She tilts her head to one side. "Then it sounds like we have a lot to catch up on."

Kara nods. "We do."

"I'm actually in town for a while," Lena tells her. "Maybe... maybe if you'll also be here, we could maybe... do dinner."

Kara considers the offer. "Are you free now?"

Lena blinks, the breaks into a brilliant smile. "Yeah."

"Then how about dessert first?" Kara turns her chin over her shoulder. "Esme?" she asks totally conversationally.

There's a squeak at the door, confirming that Esme's curiosity had her pressing her ear to the door. Then, "um... yeah?"

"Would you like to get ice cream with me and Lena?"

The door flings itself open. "Oh my god, YES!"

Lena's laughter fills the room, filling Kara with a warmth she hadn't totally realized she'd been missing.

As they gather up their things to leave, Lena clasps Kara's hand gently. "Dinner...?"

"Just us," Kara promises. "If that's okay."

Lena nods, her fingers tightening on Kara's.

"I can't wait."

Stepping out into the open air of the city, Kara feels something new bloom in her chest. Seeing Lena this time feels less a whirlwind than more a simple fork in the path on one of her hikes. The paths look largely the same, except that one includes Lena holding her hand.

One thing Kelly said, in perhaps the first year after Lena, that had really resonated with Kara was that lasting romances really only required three things: the person, place, and timing.

Right now, even in these early minutes, Kara feels hopeful that maybe--just maybe-- they might finally have all three.

[campingwiththecharmings]

Birthday

AN: Yeah, um, idk y’all. I meant for this to be like just a little sad and somehow this happened a;dlksdl;kd. I kinda like it though? idk. Totally fair if it’s not for you, no worries. Thanks for reading if you choose to ❤️ Credit for the idea comes from this post (many thanks). I did have another idea that was more domestic so maybe I'll do that one later as a pallet cleanser lmao

(Un-beta’d)

It's Poe's birthday and all he wants is to spend it with you.

Rated: T Words: 1,016 Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Warnings: Angst, feelings of loneliness/sadness/loss, kind of a bittersweet (but hopeful?) ending. AO3

——————

The morning sunlight streams into the room, warming the air to the point where Poe is kicking his sheets to the end of the bed. The climate on D’Qar was usually pretty balmy, but somehow it always seemed to get worse around this time of year. Poe stretches, his arm brushing the empty space where your body had lain mere hours before. He sighs, disappointment settling in his belly. He loves waking up with you, thinks it’s the perfect way to start his day—the two of you tangled together, exchanging raspy “good mornings,” smiles, and languid kisses.  

Maybe tomorrow, he thinks, rolling out of his bed with a grunt. He runs his hand over BB-8’s domed head on his way to the fresher, yawning a ‘good morning’ to the droid (who chirps merrily) as he readies himself for another long day. The light flickers on when he opens the door, the brightness of it making him squint as he heads over to the sink. He brushes his teeth, splashes some water on his face, and is looking around for his comb when he sees the piece of paper stuck to the mirror. His lips quirk when he recognizes the familiar scrawl of your handwriting, his eyes fondly tracing the slopes and angles of your words. 

Happy Birthday, Poe ❤️, it says, followed by another line where you tell him you’ve left a surprise for him (his favorite breakfast) on his desk.  

Sure, he would’ve preferred waking up with you, especially today, but this is good too, he supposes. 

Your note (which he may or may not be carrying around in his pocket) and gift lighten his heart and boost his spirits, and he spends the morning smiling and graciously accepting birthday wishes from what feels like every member of the Resistance. He tries stopping by your workstation sometime around late morning, but is told you’re off-base on a repair. His mood is dampened a bit, but he tries not to let it get to him, knowing the two of you will run into each other eventually, as you always do. 

As the day goes on though, Poe only gets more frustrated, seeming to just miss you every time he has a free moment to look. When he returns from flying drills with his squad, he gets word that you’d stopped by the hangar looking for him, but he gets pulled into something else before he gets the chance to chase you down. BB does his best to raise his spirits but even the little droid can tell that your absence is taking a toll. 

The day flies by, the moons rising over the base before Poe even notices the time. He’s exhausted, so much so he turns down an offer for drinks at the cantina with Finn and Rey. All he wants is to fall into his bed and sleep (if only in hopes that he’ll get to wake up with you in his arms). He trudges back to his quarters, wearily running a hand through his hair. 

Poe keys in the code to open his door, shuffling inside the dark room with BB-8 in tow after it slides open. As it closes behind him, he pauses, a familiar scent reaching his nose. He turns, his eyes landing on a small, floating light. 

No wait, not just a light…a candle. 

BB-8 chirps happily beside him, rolling toward the light and the dimly lit familiar figure he now sees holding the candle.  

It’s you. Standing there in the middle of his room, holding what looks like a keshian spice roll topped with a single lit candle. Poe smiles, his heart lifting in his chest as his eyes meet yours. You smile back, holding his gaze as you begin to sing to him, your voice soft and sweet. The sound of it fills him with a warmth he hadn’t realized he’d been missing until now. He walks over, reaching you as you finish the final words of the song, his brown eyes alight with joy. 

“Thanks for being born, Flyboy,” you say, smiling fondly as he leans in to blow out the candle. 

Poe chuckles as cheers from you (and beeps from BB) fill the room. For some reason, the moment suddenly feels nostalgic, reminding him of his childhood on Yavin IV, of the celebrations he’d shared with his parents. The memories are bittersweet, from a simpler, more peaceful time in his life. He wonders if he’ll ever get to have that again, that peace. It feels impossible, the war with the First Order seemingly never ending. An ache settles in his chest at the thought. 

The familiar sensation of your hand slipping into his brings him back to the present, the gentle glow of his bedside lamp now illuminating the space. He can tell you want to ask, ask where he just went, ask if he’s okay given you’d both just been laughing a moment ago but…you don’t. Instead, you smile at him softly, squeezing his hand as you patiently wait for him to work through his feelings. He realizes then just how lucky he is. Sure, he’s smack dab in the middle of a war and, yes, he could die at any given moment but, he also has so much. He has a purpose, a place he belongs, people he loves; it’s in that (in them) that he finds his peace. 

Poe gazes at you, his brown eyes gentle and warm as they trace the lines of your face. Then he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. You sigh, the fingers of your free hand bunching in the fabric of his shirt as you melt into him. After a moment, he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours. 

“Happy Birthday, Poe,” you breathe, smiling at him as you reach up to comb your fingers through his curls, your hand coming to rest at the base of his neck.  

“Thank you,” he whispers, the look in his eyes telling you he means for more than just the birthday wishes.

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