#my ear tails make me look very feminine but if I’m honest I’m really insecure about my face shape because of my double chin and soft

[werebutch]

Wowww I miss my old hair it was honestly pretty cool sometimes. My pre eartails era. I might go back to this I really liked looking kinda scruffy.. I’m just so bad at cutting my hair for some reason LMAO but I will keep my tails..

[x-dudes]

Hi I recently got in a car wreck (I'm physically okay) and I have a really bad scar on my forehead. Could you do a Poe x reader where she's insecure about a similar scar and he kinda helps her out? 💛💛

Notes: Sure can, babydoll! Hope I did you justice.

Published: December 29th, 2017

How are you feeling?

The question didn’t seem to come as a question at all, but rather as just a buzz of words that only somewhat formed within your brain. You weren’t even entirely sure if you were truly being spoken to or if the voice in your head was the byproduct of a dulling fever dream you managed to catch the tail end of as you came to.

(Y/N)? The voice rang again. It had been clearer this time, though still not sharp enough to discern from a delusion. For a brief moment, as you vaguely recalled a handful of the events that occured before you were knocked unconscious, you were certain that you were dead, and the voice was an angel. Are you waking up? (Y/N). A cool hand running across the skin of your forehead assured you this was not an angel, yet also brought a smile to your face as your eyes fluttered back into consciousness.

You were safe.

“You’re awake!” The voice beamed. It seemed familiarly feminine; an accent encrypted within it from a planet you couldn’t recall in your state of delirium. Your eyes had finally opened, only for you to audibly wince as you shut them once again due to the blinding white of the overhead lights. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll get them off” You could hear a set of sharp footsteps, a soft click, and then the remnants of the blinding white light still seen from behind your lids died down, leaving you in blackness. The voice spoke up once more, and you found solace in the soothing silk of their words. “Hey, can you open your eyes now?” Your eyes finally flicked open, meeting the smiling face of Rey in the dim light of a medical room.

“Rey,” You spoke softly. Your voice was weak, but she could tell you were thrilled to see her.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I feel much better than I did being beat around by members of the First Order,” You joked. “Thanks for asking.”

“No,” She chuckled. “I mean after surgery. It was a shame you missed it, the medics had this little droid by their side who ended up stitching up the cut after they cleaned it in about two minutes flat. Though I suppose you had to miss it otherwise something could have gone wrong, right?”

“Surgery?” You repeated, digging through your cloudy memories for the answer to your own question. “Oh shit, my-” Though weak, your hands flew to your forehead, feeling a protruding scar along the plane of your forehead. You only vaguely recalled the wound being at the hand of General Hux before your memory returns to black. “Oh, Rey,”You whimpered, speech still slurred from what must have been remnants of the anaesthesia. “Be honest with me, okay? How bad is it really? Now that everything is all said and done, and it’s all sewn up…”

“Bad?” She echoed, confusion etched across her sharp features.

“Yeah, as in- nevermind. I don’t really expect you to understand, I guess.” You bit your tongue to refrain from commenting on Rey’s upbringing in your still softheaded state. It wouldn’t do anyone any good. “Wait. Where’s Poe?”

To be able to say that your injuries were likely the least worrisome of the group’s was something truly extraordinary. You had been sent out on a reconnaissance mission right within the heart of Starkiller Base. Something that should have been easy, in theory, until a weak link within your team had resulted in all of you getting captured, with one of the four not making it out alive. Poe had been a member of the team sent out to recover the remaining three of you before anything could escalate further. After being beaten, bruised, strapped to a metal dolley, tortured, manipulated, and lied to with the goal of obtaining Resistance information, it was a miracle you were still alive, let alone in one piece. Poe had been drifting in and out of consciousness for the past four days or so, never managing to stay awake and aware of his surroundings for very long. You were too afraid to wait by his side for him to recover.

Gentle fingers grazed the mark along your forehead.

He would worry. That was what you had decided. The scar wasn’t the simplest thing to hide, more so than ever as it was in the weird grace period between being freshly sewn and having healed entirely. Rey had insisted you not worry about ‘some mark that hadn’t been there before,’ yet always held you in her arms in silence as you bit back all of the emotions that overflowed from that scar, as well as its origins. She didn’t quite understand. You insisted that she couldn’t.

You should be grateful you’re okay physically, you tried to tell yourself. Not even a concussion to show for it and this is what you’re upset about?

“Lieutenant (Y/L/N),” The General had called from the piece in your ear, still kept as you trained newcomer resistance fighters in the fields.

“Yes, general?” You spoke back, hoping your response could be heard above the natural roar of the D’Qar jungle. The dozen or so new recruits ran past you into a large clearing in the trees.

“You’ve been requested in the Medbay. Sector three. I’d go, if I were you.”

“Yes ma’am. Let me finish up here.”

“Just go, (Y/L/N). Lieutenant Connix will wrap things up for you. I’ve already sent her your way.”

“Thank you, General.”

Remembering Poe’s fickle state, you began to dash through the thick foliage, stripping your heavy training equipment as you went along until you had come to the front desk with nothing more than an old black tank top and your jumpsuit, now half opened with the arms tied tightly around your hips. Without a single word from you, the medic working the desk that day directed you to where Poe rested, filling you in on his recovery status along the way.

“-as well as a serious fracture on one of his left ribs from the impact. He’s been asking for you for a few days now, though you’re a naturally busy person, so I figured I would hold off on contacting you until we could get him awake for more than an hour.” She chuckled. “I mean, you must be busy. You look like you just came out of battle. Training newbies, I presume?” You gave her a small ‘mhm’ in response and she huffed. “Yeah, I get that. I’m on new kid training duty tomorrow all through the rest of the month. Crazy, you know. I could have sworn that I was a new kid myself just last month and now I get to teach them. How are ya’ healing?” You cleared your throat nervously. Both thankful for and dreadful of the fact that she was a talker.

“I, uh, I’m feeling alright.”

“Yeah? No burning? No irritation? No psychic connections with force spirits?” She giggled at her own joke, though you weren’t entirely sure of what to say. “Oh! Here he is. Dameron.” You thanked her softly, bracing yourself silently as her footsteps grew distant. Knocking twice on the door for good measure, relief and dread simultaneously flooded you upon hearing his voice, asking you to come in.

“Poe,” You began.

“(Y/N)!” He bolted up in his bed, beaming with joy upon seeing you. Hesitantly, you stepped forward until you were sat at the edge of his bed. Without a second thought, he lunged his already weak body at you, enveloping you into a hug you could tell hurt him deeply. He didn’t mind, though. He loved you more than you could ever know. “(Y/N), I’m so glad you’re okay! I’ve been in here for who knows how long and all I kept asking of them was to see you, or to at least hear something about how you’re doing, and I wasn’t even given a ‘she’s doing alright��� before they shut me down Rey came in here a while back and when I asked her about you she got all weird about it. I almost thought you were dying. It was driving me crazy not knowing how you were doing for so long. Yeesh, if I could stay awake for more than an hour at a time before now, I probably would have busted out of here to find you…” He chuckled at the end of his sentence, but something told you he was biting back happy tears. “How are you doing?” He pulled out of the hug, yet still kept a vice grip on your shoulders as he got a good look at you for the first time weeks. You could tell he had caught a glance at the scar in the way his eyebrows knit, lips pouting in silent thought.

“Listen, I-”

“They stitch you up pretty good?”

“Hmm?”

“Well, (Y/N), I don’t remember a lot from Starkiller Base, but I do remember having to watch Hux do that to you, and let me tell you it was a lot less pretty when-”

“It’s still not pretty…”

“-I had found you- wait, what?”

“Hmm?”

“What was that?”

“I said that it’s not pretty, Poe.” You confessed. Subconsciously, your hands rose to rub at your temples in a sense of worry. “I don’t… I don’t like it. Call me dumb, call me whatever you want, but some part of me just knows that I’m always going to be changed by what went on on that ship, and this just serves as a constant reminder of that.” His eyebrows raised. Whether in shock or in revelation you really weren’t sure, but you had decided you were too deep into your confession to care all that much. “Poe, people look at me differently, they think of me differently,and I absolutely hate the fact that it- it ruins the image of me that I-”

“Now hold on just a second.” He interrupted you, placing a hand on your chin to force your gaze his way. “(Y/N), good god, I can’t believe you would think so lowly of yourself after what you just did. Are you even aware of the amazing acts that came out of that scar?” You didn’t respond, only gave him a quizzical look, but it was enough for him. “The girl who snuck on to Starkiller Base with the intent to destroy? This same girl who when captured led Hux on a wild goose chase, only to tell him to go fuck himself in Twi’leki and spit on his nose? This girl who was brought to hell and back, and still wouldn’t cave in, even if it costed her her life, all in the name of the Resistance doesn’t like the scar that shows that she survived?”

“I don’t think you understand-”

“No, (Y/N), I don’t think you understand. Yeah, people absolutely think of you differently. They take one look at you, knowing you got back from a mission that would turn any normal man into a pile of ash, and they think that you’re incredible. I know I do.” Poe stretched down further to place a peck to your forehead. “You should too. You should look at that scar and think to yourself ‘I’ve been through hell and back, but I’m still here, and I’m still kicking ass, because I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and that’s who I am. Not even this could stop me, and nothing else sure as hell will.’” You smiled softly, carefully burying your face into his chest as you hugged him, as to not hurt his bad rib any further.

“I don’t think all that would fit into my morning routine, but thanks, Speedy.” You giggled, grinning wider as you felt him smile against your shoulder. “That means the world to me.”