#main tagging this feels illegal anyways

[eyes-of-nine]

I knew I'd draw him again one day, I just didn't realise it was going to be a cowboy au

[sailorrhansol]

Blood & Popcorn | l.c (m)

❀ Pairing: Lee Chan x f. Reader 

❀ Summary: Fridays are reserved for watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stuffing your face with popcorn and pizza. It’s been like that for you and Chan since your freshman year of college. But when he skips your Blood and Popcorn night for a date, things take an unexpected turn. 

❀ Word Count: 11,315

❀ Genre: Friends to Lovers, Angst, Fluff

❀ Type: Smut 

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Literally so much misunderstanding and repressed feelings, pining, light themes of jealousy, recreational drinking, recreational weed use, bad communication skills, some mild insecurities, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex (do not do this lmaooo), nipple stim, light teasing, oral (f. receiving), clumsy/playful sex, jokes/banter while fucking. They’re both down horrendous. Joshua as an almost love interest. Jeonghan is both terrible and great at advice. Alternating POVs and some time skips. 

❀ A/N: This is another work coming from a conversation with @daechwitatamic who at this point, I think had been the driving force behind all three random one shots I’ve written. I apparently can’t say no when she asks for something :) so anyway, here is simp Lee Chan and simp reader because ???? And yes I'm posting this at 11:30 pm at night who cares there are no rules!!!!!!!!

❀ A/N 2: Also thank you to Jo for reading this before hand because it would be otherwise largely illegible. King Julian is on the way, bestie.   

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Read Next: Still Watching?

“So why not Blood and Pizza if pizza is always involved but popcorn isn’t?” Mingyu eyes the french fries on your plate. You give him a warning glance, pointing the sharp tines of your fork at him. He retreats, leaning against the cracked vinyl of the booth, pouting. “Also, the title sounds gross.”

“Good thing it has nothing to do with you then.” 

“Wow, you’re not even going to invite me?” 

“No,” you chirp, popping a shoestring fry into your mouth. You savor the saltiness, humming delightedly. “It’s for me and Chan. Not me, Chan and you. Plus, you know nothing about Buffy.” 

“Isn’t that a magic dragon? And are you sure you two aren’t dating?” 

The look you send Mingyu makes him hold up his hands in surrender. It isn’t the first time someone has asked if you and Chan are dating, and you know it won’t be the last. You don’t want to start down that avenue tonight, trying to navigate the questions of why and well you seem to be a good match. 

If romantic relationships were started over simply having things in common and matching a vibe, you and Chan would have started dating a long time ago. But you’re not, and you’ve already gotten over the fact that you’re not dating and that you will not start dating.

Mostly. 

The bell rings above the diner door, drawing your attention. Like he’s been manifested by Mingyu’s dangerous question, Chan spots you and lifts a hand, a smile splitting his face as he heads over. You scoot over in the booth, dragging your plate along with you to make room for him. 

Chan is dressed in jeans and a green sweater, your favorite color on him. He sits down next to you, cushioned seat dipping a little as he leans over to kiss the top of your head and steal fries off of your plate. You let him, feeling heat flush up the side of your neck as you look anywhere but Mingyu’s accusatory stare.

“These are so good,” Chan says around a mouthful of fries. “Thanks, Bambi.”

You grin at the nickname, trying not to flush too hard. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu says pointedly. You ignore him, shoving your burger in your mouth. “Apparently I’m not allowed fries or to attend your movie night.”

“Order your own fries,” Chan says. 

“Ugh. I already ate mine.”

“So order more, idiot. And of course you’re not invited to Blood and Popcorn. That’s our thing.” 

Our thing. 

The corner of your mouth twitches as you glance at Chan. He doesn’t notice, catching the eyes of the server and waving happily, giving her a broad smile. She gives him a thumbs up in return, confirming she’ll put in his usual now that he’s there. 

There are a lot of things that belong to you and Chan. Studying at the very diner you were sitting in during freshman year had been one of them, though now in your final year there’s not as much of a need to study and you’ve incorporated other friends in your late night trips for grease and calories. 

You also shared trivia nights on Tuesdays with Vernon and Seungkwan, football Sundays with Seungcheol, Mingyu and Jeonghan, once a month family dinners with everyone, and most importantly, Blood and Popcorn. 

Chan steals another fry off of your plate and you let him, leaning back in the booth. Mingyu glares daggers at you, dark eyes flicking from your plate, to you, to Chan. You grin around a mouthful of cheeseburger and he scoffs before looking away. 

Behind you, Chan’s arm stretches across the back of the booth, just barely brushing against the top of your shoulders. Your stomach flips a little, momentarily elated at the contact before you swallow it down with Sprite, pretending it wasn’t there in the first place. 

The two boys immediately fall into a conversation about their shared engineering class. You tune it out easily, a learned habit over the last four years of having to listen to Chan tell you the functions of a bridge and the best way to design one. Instead, you focus on the rise and fall of Chan’s soft voice and the way it lulls you into a state of calm. 

When the server brings over his order, he pulls his arm from over the back of the seat. Immediately you snatch one of the onion rings from his basket, popping one into your mouth and hissing as the crispy snack burns you. He shakes his head, laughing as he gives you a napkin while you sputter.

“Careful, Bambi,” he murmurs. “They’re literally steaming.” 

Mingyu reaches for an onion ring, only to be threatened with the blunt end of Chan’s steak knife. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But she-”

“Bambi has special privileges,” Chan quips. “Order yourself some more fries for the love of God. I’ll pay for them.” 

Mingyu immediately stops whining, mood improving markedly as he orders fries, wiggling in his seat happily. Chan cuts his burger in half, asking, “Why were you talking about Blood and Popcorn anyway?” 

“Shua asked Bambi out on a date,” Mingyu answers around a mouthful of fries. “She told him she couldn’t go because of Blood and Popcorn.”

Chan stops eating and looks at you, brows creasing. You feel your heart rate speed up as you kick Mingyu under the table. He yelps, knee jerking upward to slam against the underside of the table. The salt and pepper shakers rattle in place as Mingyu bends over to rub his shin. 

“He didn’t ask me out on a date.”

“He asked you to dinner!”

“As friends!”

“Oh yeah,” Mingyu snorts, rolling his eyes. “Friends take friends to fucking prime steakhouses. He asked you out on a date.” 

For a moment, silence envelops the table. You stare at your fries, watching Chan out of your periphery. He looks away from you, wiping the grease from his fingers onto the napkin. The air feels pregnant with tension suddenly, your anxiety bubbling as you open your mouth to assert once more it wasn’t a date.

Chan beats you to breaking the silence, “We can skip this Friday so you can go!”

You open and close your mouth a few times, heart dropping to your ass. “What?”

“It’s totally fine if we have to skip. I don’t mind.” 

Chan picks his burger back up, not looking at you. Heart pounding in your chest, you can’t help but watch him in total silence, trying to string together a response. Sure, maybe Chan doesn’t mind if you miss your weekly solo hangout. But you care. 

The ache of the implication cuts you suddenly, a delayed reaction. You feel your throat tighten painfully, reaching for your Sprite to try and swallow past the sudden tension. It does nothing to quell the way the casual dismissal of your tradition keeps cutting you long after he’s said the words, sawing down to the bone. 

“I wasn’t aware that we could just skip Blood and Popcorn, I guess.” 

“I mean if you’ve got a date.” 

That’s not the point, you want to scream at him. 

Chan is a lot of things. Perceptive isn’t one of them. If he had been, you know he would have sniffed out your feelings for him a long time ago. Luckily for you, he’s remained completely oblivious over the last four years of your friendship, and you like to keep it that way. Keep it safe. 

Nothing ruins a friendship more than unrequited romance. You know that from more than just the media you consume - you’ve seen more than once first hand when one friend catches feelings for the others but the desire isn’t mutual. 

It isn’t mutual here. It’s always been very clear where Chan’s interests lie, and you’re totally fine with that. You accept the relationship that you have happily and quietly, and thought moments like are a brutal reminder of where you stand, it’s alright because you also love your friendship. More than you love him - at least, you think so. 

So when Chan so easily suggests to go on a date, to cancel your thing with him to accommodate, you know it isn’t because he doesn’t care. He just thinks that you should go on a date because it doesn’t occur to him that the real reason you don’t want to is because your interests are somewhere else. That you don’t want to cancel Blood and Popcorn because it’s for the two of you and no one else. 

“Yeah,” you rasp, unsure what else to say. “Um, maybe.” 

“Shua is a good guy.” 

“Yeah. Yeah he is.” 

Mingyu and Chan go back to their conversation about class. You finish your meal in silence, leaning back against the seat as your thoughts wander listlessly. You gaze around the diner, drinking in detail as their conversation becomes background noise and you can no longer understand what they’re saying. 

Rounders Diner had been a staple in the college community long before you were born, and continues to be the center for academic life. Students fill the booths sipping on milkshakes as they cram for exams or homework, night shift workers sit at the countertop and order coffee before heading to work, and the jukebox in the corner glows neon, only offering a selection of music from the 50s. 

Behind the countertop is an open scratch kitchen, the sound of sizzling grease and yelled orders bracketing an Elvis song you know the words to but don’t know the name of. Black and white tile flooring with years worth of scuffs reflect the canned lighting in the ceiling. Over near the entrance is a wall covered in pictures of students of note throughout the years. 

You remember the first time Chan had hauled you to Rounders. It was the first day you’d met, two freshmen absolutely terrified of the world after experiencing two back to back intro courses together. The dining hall was on the opposite side of campus from your classes, but Chan had insisted there was a diner just off the corner that everyone said was a necessary experience. 

He was the first real friend you made. Your roommates had become your best friends too, Lorna and Mai splashed across almost every memory you have of college. But that first day is only colored with Chan, who had slid into the seat across from you and looked around the diner with a bright grin like he was suddenly at home. 

Wanna start coming here after class? 

You did. And you had. 

A hand waves in front of your face, making you blink several times before Chan’s face swims into focus. Your thoughts are a little delayed as you drink him in: dark hair framing dark, angular eyes that turn molten brown when the sun hits them just right, a jawline that has turned sharper as he’s aged, though his cheeks still have a youthful softness that you adore, and a grin that makes the world dim. 

“What?” you ask him, totally at a loss for words. 

He laughs and you feel the corners of your lips turn upward, an automatic response to his mirth. “I asked if you were ready to go.” 

You look up to see Mingyu at the register, passing over the bill and a card. “I think I spaced out. I thought you were buying him fries?”

He snorts. “Never fear, it’s my card. Everything okay?” 

You hesitate. Not for the first time, the urge to spill your guts to him grips you so forcefully that you almost do right in the middle of Rounders. Almost tell him everything from start to finish, the feelings, the reason you don’t want to date Joshua, how beautiful you think Chan is-

Mingyu starts heading back and you force a grin on your face, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Of course. A little tired, though. Thanks for dinner.” 

“You know I’ve got you.” He gets up from the booth and holds his hand out to you. “Always.��� 

-

Chan is the stupidest fucking person he knows. He lets out a loud scream into the warmth of his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut as he lays face down in his bed. His arms are shoved under the pillow, fisting in his sheets as the long-winded scream finally begins to die out. 

“Yes, that is healthy,” Seungkwan calls from Chan’s desk against the window. “Let the pillow know everything that you’re feeling.” 

Scowling, Chan lifts his head up and looks over his shoulder at where Seungkwan is sitting. His roommate is hunched over Chan’s laptop, a document open on the screen as he clicks around rapidly, cursing under his breath. 

“Why are you in here again?”

“My literature professor is a dinosaur,” Seungkwan answers. “And only accepts printed essay submissions.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean you don’t have your own printer?” 

“No, and I will not be paying thirty cents a paper for an essay that is almost thirty pages long.” 

“That’s like, nine dollars dude. Also, why is your essay thirty pages long?”

“Ask the dude who wrote Beowulf.” 

“Isn’t that like… a movie?” 

Seungkwan mutters something under his breath. The printer chimes, followed by a mechanic whirring as the paper feeds into the machine and starts printing. Spinning in the chair, Seungkwan looks at where Chan is still laying stomach down, face squished against his pillow as he cradles it. 

“Speaking of movies - are you having Blood and Popcorn here or at Bambi’s?” 

Chan can’t help but smirk at the nickname. It had stuck ever since your freshman year when you’d called Rin Hartford a bambi-eyed bitch for saying nasty things to Mingyu. He thinks that night might be the night he realized he was absolutely head over heels for you, even if he had only known you for two weeks then. 

Despite your quiet disposition, you’ve always been the epitome of bravery. He can’t recall a time that you haven’t said what you meant or meant what you said, and defending your friends and speaking up has always been paramount to you. 

For someone like Chan who was often the youngest and the softest spoken in any group he was in, you were a breath of fresh air. And you’ve taught him to speak up for himself, letting him grow comfortable pushing back with people - especially his friends - and how to give back what he gets. 

Corrupted, Seungcheol joked once. She corrupted him and taught him how to bully us back. 

“I’m not really sure,” Chan says slowly, thinking about your conversation at the diner, the exact source of his pillow-scream. “We might not be doing it.”

“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“There is no paradise. We’re just friends.” 

“That’s the trouble I’m talking about, brother.” Seungkwan turns around to start collecting the pages out of the printer. “Is the Blood and Popcorn cancellation the reason for your pillow screaming?” 

“I don’t know that it’s canceled.” 

“That really clarifies the issue.”

Chan scowls. “Did you know Shua was into her?” 

“Uh, yeah.”

“He asked her on a date.”

“Joshua must have got tired of waiting for you to make a move on Bambi. I guess he decided you weren’t going to.” 

Chan frowns and sits up. He didn’t realize Joshua remotely had a thing for you, and while Chan adores the older member of their larger friend group, the thought of him taking you to dinner - a date - makes his stomach tighten. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Seungkwan clarifies. “That you have had the last four years to nut up or shut up. Everyone has waited for you to make your move on Bambi and you haven’t. If you’re not going to do it, someone else might as well.” 

“I mean, anyone could ask her out. It’s not like I have-”

“Don’t you dare say you didn’t have dibs. Dibs can be unspoken, Chan. You’ve been in love with that girl since freshman year, if you think people - especially our friends - cannot tell and don’t respect you enough to give you time to ask her out, you need to wake up.” 

“It’s that obvious?” 

“Not to her, clearly.” Seungkwan stands and grins at Chan placidly, his essay collected in his hands. “Fortunately for you, the only person who is as dumb as you are is Bambi. Match made in heaven, really.” 

Chan chews his bottom lip. That offers a little bit of relief. He doesn’t like knowing that his feelings are so obvious to everyone else, but at least you don’t know. He cannot imagine how uncomfortable it would make your friendship dynamic knowing he was mooning over you while you just saw him as a friend. 

“Well, she doesn’t feel that way about me. I’m not going to confess my unrequited feelings and put her in that position to deal with them. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

Seungkwan gives Chan a slow blink, smile turning plastic. “Like I said. Match made in heaven.” 

Heaving a sigh, Chan throws himself on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Chan was certainly an idiot for a lot of reasons, but the biggest reason has to be the way he has let his feelings for you fester since freshman year. Instead of implementing preventative maintenance, he’s let the problem grow to the point that his friends are no longer waiting for him to do something about it. 

The window of opportunity is gone. 

Not that there was a window of opportunity to begin with. Chan has seen what it looks like when you’re interested in guys - dazed eyes, a little flustered, a tiny grin on your face. You’ve never looked at him that way. At least, not really like that. You smile at him all the time, but it’s different. 

If he had the slightest indication you looked at him like you were interested, he’d have spilled his feelings a long time ago. Hiding this from you feels almost like a violation of friendship, but in order to preserve the friendship and keep you comfortable, he does what he must. 

The memory of him telling you to go on a date with Joshua makes him  groan in embarrassment. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars explode behind his lids. It had been a knee jerk response, something to distract you from the immediate jealousy and panic he’d felt that moment that Mingyu had dropped that bit of information at the table.

Mingyu. That motherfucker did it on purpose - not to rile Chan, but to try and  give him a kick in the ass toward the right direction. But like everyone else, Mingyu doesn’t get it. If Chan told you how he felt just to get it off of his chest, it would be putting his burden on you. You’d be the one who had to feel guilty for it being unrequited, you’d be the one who would inevitably feel uncomfortable or out of place. 

No. It would be the highest form of selfishness he can think of, offloading the heavy weight of his feelings just to give them to you as a reprieve from carrying them around so long. 

Chan blinks away the swimming colors, staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom again. He can hear Seungkwan singing somewhere in the apartment, liquid voice calming even in Chan’s mild state of distress. 

Joshua is a good guy. Honestly, there are only a few guys that Chan knows who would make a suitable partner for you, and he begrudgingly acknowledges that Joshua is at the top of that list. And yet he still feels a twist of self-loathing that he had pushed you so quickly towards it, the regret like bile in his stomach. 

The last thing Chan wants to do is skip Blood and Popcorn this week. It is the one guaranteed day of uninterrupted time with you, and he waved it away like it meant nothing to him, which could not be farther from the truth. The nights of watching Buffy and eating pizza and sometimes popcorn mean everything to him. 

He just wishes he had been brave enough to stand his ground. 

-

Maybe Joshua Hong is the worst person ever. Chan dismisses the irrational thought as soon as he has it. Joshua isn’t awful at all. It’s just that he’s leaning in toward you and saying something into your ear over the loud din of the party, and Chan watches the way you nod. 

Crack. The plastic cup in his hand splits and immediately spills rum and coke all over the kitchen floor. Jeonghan starts yelling at him, ripping paper towels off of the roll and throwing them in Chan’s direction. He mutters an apology, gaze drifting over the kitchen counter to the living room where you’re laughing, head tilted back, warm light splaying across your throat-

“Ya! Don’t just let it pool at your feet!”

Jeonghan’s screech brings Chan back to life. He snatches the copious amounts of paper towels Jeonghan has thrown at him and starts to soak up the drink. The tile floor is already sticky and Chan cringes. No way have either Jeonghang or Seungcheol cleaned this floor any time recently. If anything, Chan has done it a favor. 

The party is in full swing around him. He stands up with the soaked paper in his hand, tossing it into the trash and grabbing more while Jeonghan digs underneath the counter. Chan finishes soaking up the spilled drink and comes eye to eye with a new set of paper towels and spray cleaner. 

Chan gives Jeonghan the soaked papers. “Jeonghan, your floor is already disgusting.”

“Then you should have no problem cleaning it!” 

“Sure, Mom.” 

“Don’t call me that!”

He rolls his eyes but does what Jeonghan says, spraying the area quickly and pressing down the paper towels. They come away sticky and black, making him cringe in disgust before tossing them out and washing his hands. As he turns off the faucet, Jeonghan has the decency to hand him a new drink.

Chan takes it without comment, the image of Joshua leaning into you a little too much for him to deal with right now. He drains the cup, sputtering a little. Jeonghan is a heavy pour and the spiced rum goes down rough, his eyes tearing just a little as he finishes the drink. 

“Well, that’s one way to stop from spilling.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a look before reaching for the mixer and handle of rum again. “You do normally drink like a fish, but anything in particular driving tonight’s thirst?” 

“Nope.”

“Right, so it’s not tall, dark and handsome hanging out with Bambi?”

Chan feels his eye twitch as he heavily pours the liquor into his cup. “Nope. And Joshua isn’t even that tall.” 

“Taller than you.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a venomous look. His face is beatific, grin a little bit dangerous as he holds his hands up in a white flag. “You look pretty bothered. If only there were a way to fix that.” Chan looks at Jeonghan with wide eyes, hope surging for a moment. “Just tell her you like her.” 

“Why is that the only advice any of you have?”

“Because it’s the only advice I have. Either tell her or get over your feelings. Those are your options.” 

“And I’ve already told you, it would just make her uncomfortable. It’s not her burden to bear.” 

Jeongan taps his fingers on the countertop, studying Chan. Chan pouts into his cup, taking long draughts, trying not to cringe at the strong taste. He can already sense the oncoming buzz and he welcomes it, needing a little something to distract him from the obvious elephant in the living room. 

“Alright,” Jeognhan relents. “Then deal with the consequences and get over your feelings.” 

And he will. Chan has always been good at dealing with the repercussions of hiding his feelings, and he does them well. So he tips back the cup and rejoins the party, nerves steeled and ready to deal with the consequences like his friends keep telling him to. 

-

“What?” you asked, lifting your voice to be heard over the rowdy game of cards at the coffee table. Joshua had asked you something but the words had been lost on you as your gaze drifted to Chan where he was leaning against the wall, talking to a girl you didn’t know. He was leaning awfully close. “I didn’t catch that.” 

Joshua smiles. He really is handsome, and everything someone could want in a partner. He’s kind and gentle, has a little bit of an insane streak, and he is incredibly intelligent and loyal. So why do you feel nothing when he grins at you or laughs? 

Your eyes drift over to Chan again and you feel your stomach flip. The alcohol turns to lead. The girl Chan is speaking to is so close to him, both of them turned toward one another as he ducks his head down to say something to her. She laughs and he smiles, looking her up and down.

Jealousy swallows you whole. It roars so loudly in your ears that you almost miss Joshua’s question again. “Did you give any thoughts about dinner on Friday?” 

Dinner? Friday? Oh right. He had asked you to dinner on Friday, but you’d declined due to your planned Blood and Popcorn night. With Chan. Who is flirting with the girl next to him, who is flirting back. 

The jealousy feels like a raw, rotten thing. It turns the alcohol in your stomach sour, makes the sweat on the back of your neck feel too much, like the room is too loud and too full. Even as the envy rears its head, an ugly beast ready to unleash, you turn to Joshua and say, “I really can’t. Friday nights are really important to me.” 

Joshua looks disappointed, but he’s polite enough to nod and smile. “I understand. Maybe a different night?”

“Um, maybe. Would you excuse me? I really need some air.” 

You stand abruptly, starling the people next to you. The cup in your hand shakes a little and your throat constricts and oh god. You cannot cry in the middle of a party just because you’re a little buzzed and the boy you like is across the room with another girl. 

“Do you want me to-”

“No!” You quip, shaking your head. “Totally fine, I’m so fine, I just need some air. Please! Sit! Stay!” 

Joshua raises his eyebrows at your frantic commands and you give a laugh that is a little on the hysterical side as you step over the legs of people sitting on the floor and on the couch. Joshua calls after you as you make the escape but you don’t turn around, eager to get out of the room. 

You trip over someone’s foot and nearly launch into a passerby as you go. Strong hands steady you before you totally topple over, though your drink sloshes over the edge of your cup, spilling it on the carpet. 

“What is it with you and your other half?” You look up to realize that it’s Jeonghan who stabilized you. “Spilling drinks all over my damn floor!”

“It probably helps. Your floors are disgusting.”

“Ya! That’s beside the point - why do you look like you’re about to die?”

“I feel like I might. I need fresh air.”  For a moment, Jeonghan looks confused. You watch his dark brows pull together and he looks over your head, dark gaze scanning for something. For Chan, you realize. It’s usually Chan who leaves with you if you need air or need to stick your head in a bucket to vomit. The realization hits you like a brick. “Not him,” you whisper. “I’m fine.” 

Your words land at the same time Jeonghan focuses in the direction you’d last seen Chan. He holds you there, suspended in time for a moment as his eyes dart between you and back to where you know Chan is still leaning against the wall. 

There is a flicker of something that you cannot place in Jeonghan’s gaze before it softens and he nods. He pulls you toward him and helps guide you around the groups of people. “Fresh air it is.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“I don’t know, crying alone is kind of lame, Bambi.”

Cool air hits you the second you step onto the porch. Soonyoung is sitting on the railing with Jihoon and Vernon leaning next to him. He waves enthusiastically when he sees you, breaking out into a grin and lifting the joint between his fingers, an offer. You shake your head and he shrugs, passing it to Vernon who lifts a hand in salute. 

The smell of weed chases you down the grass slope of Jeonghan’s backyard. It’s not so much a backyard as it is open to the apartment community’s lake. The spray of the fountain grows louder as the sounds of the party fade. 

Jeonghan sits down in the grass, leaning back on his hands. You join him, cringing at the dampness from the dewey grass. Taking in a deep breath you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting the wind cool the sweat on your overheated skin. The breeze mists the fountain, tiny specks of water tingling on your face as you sit in silence. 

Behind your lids, you can see the image of Chan leaning in toward that girl. The intimacy of the space. You hate how you can recall it in such detail - you’d always been able to remember details where Chan was involved. Like the way he was wearing a black, long-sleeved tee that pulled against his chest and arms perfectly, or the way the necklace you bought him two years ago glinted in the light of the living room, or the way-

“I did it to myself, huh?” you ask, feeling the first tear collect on your lash line. You tilt your head upward, trying to blink it rapidly away. “I could have just told him a while ago.” 

“Well, I don’t think you’re entirely responsible,” Jeonghan mutters. “Look, putting your heart on your sleeve is really scary, especially when it’s to someone you really value. But you have to decide what to do. You can either tell Chan you love him or you can decide to get over it. You can’t cling to unspoken feelings, though.”

“I just… I don't feel like he returns the feelings and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“Then get over him.” You snap your gaze at Jeonghan, who is looking at you with the cool and calm you wish you felt. “If you’re unwilling to be honest with him, then your option is to get over it.” 

“Do you think he would… react poorly?”

“Of course not, but I will not speak to all of Chan’s feelings. Those are his to share, not mine, and I believe in the sanctity of acting on one’s own.”

“You sound so… saintly.”

“Dealing with all your problems has turned me into a saint. Do you know what it’s like being therapy to all of these damn people? You all take ‘door open’ a little too seriously.”

You laugh, feeling a little lighter. Pulling at the grass, you sigh. “You’re right, though. I either need to just tell him or let it go. I can’t just… suffer.”

“If only you’d come to that conclusion a while ago.”

“Bleh.” 

Fresh air and the weight of Jeonghan’s words weigh down on you. You know that he’s right. Though you’re confident that Chan doesn’t return your feelings, you don’t explicitly know because you’ve never asked. And if you never ask, you’ll never know. 

Calm settles over you as you decide your course of action. Blood and Popcorn is in two days - you can bring it up then. 

Nodding to yourself, you pluck more grass out of the ground. “Alright,” you tell Jeonghan, heaving a sigh. “Thanks, Mom.” 

“Ugh, you two! Don’t call me that!”

-

Hands shaking, you stare at your phone. You’ve had two days to mentally prepare for this evening and yet when you look at your phone, you think two days was not remotely enough to prepare for this evening. You haven’t spoken to Chan at all about what time you want to have your weekly hangout, but that’s not unusual. 

The only thing unusual is your hesitation to hit the call button and ask what time he wants to come over. It’s such a simple thing - you don’t need to confess your feelings to him right now. But the anticipation of what inviting him over means and the possible disaster it can bring makes your fingers shaky. 

Instead of hitting dial, you take one deep breath and let it out slowly. In slowly again, and-

Your phone starts ringing before you can finish the exhale. Your heart pounds in your throat when you see Chan’s name flash across your screen. For a few seconds there is pure panic, but you manage to collect yourself and slide your thumb across the screen. It takes a few tries, your hands clammy with anxiety as you answer. 

“Hi!”

“Don’t kill me,” Chan immediately says on the other side of the line. You pause, cocking your head. 

“Why would I do that?” 

“I have to raincheck on Blood and Popcorn tonight.”

“Oh no, are you sick? Do you need me to bring anything over? Is Seungkwan-”

Chan laughs on the other side of the phone and your stomach flutters helplessly. You hear the creak of bed springs and you know he’s sitting on his bed. He has the world’s creakiest bed. “I’m not sick.”

“Oh.” 

You frown, sitting down on your couch and folding your legs. There’s nothing else you can think of that Chan would cancel Blood and Popcorn for, so illness had seemed like the first rational thing. You feel a little embarrassed at immediately trying to take care of him, but push it away to ask, “What’s up?” 

“I have a date. Tonight is the only night she was available for like two weeks. She’s in her first year of law school so her availability sucks.” 

It feels like the air vanishes from the room. You lean back against the backrest on the couch, deflated. You hold the phone to your ear, but don’t feel the weight of it in your hand. The TV across the living room becomes a blur, the muted program in the background unrecognizable. 

A date. Chan has a date. That he’s willing to cancel your night for. 

You think back to that night at the diner when he told you to just go out with Joshua instead of doing Blood and Popcorn. How easily he pushed it aside. Like it was unimportant. Easily missed. 

“Bambi?” Chan’s voice sounds distant through the roar of your emotions. “You there? The cell service in your apartment is so shitty.” 

“I’m here.” 

“Oh good. Sorry to miss, please don’t kill me. We can add two days of Blood and Popcorn next week to make up for it?”

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah.” 

There’s a pause. “Are you okay?”

“Definitely.” Lie. “Sorry, I just woke up from a nap and I’m a little spacy.” Lie. “No problems here. I’m not mad. Enjoy your date.” Lie. 

“Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes after!” 

“For sure.” 

When Chan hangs up the phone, you think that Jeonghan was right. Crying alone is lame. 

-

Chan can’t do this. 

Sol isn’t the problem - at least not directly. She is beautiful and funny, sharp as a whip and has an edge to her that he loves in women. She is successful, has goals, and she’s sensible. And she’s into him, which is perhaps the biggest plus of all. 

But she isn’t you. Sol’s biggest problem is that she’s not you, and it’s not really her problem at all. It is Chan’s and Chan’s alone, and he cannot sit through this date anymore. He’s tried for the last hour already, asking all of the right questions and laughing at all the right places, but he cannot stop the way he wonders if you’re watching buffy. He cannot help but wonder if you’re in those expensive pajamas you like, drinking inexpensive wine from the corner story, his favorite contrast. 

Chan cannot stop thinking that his button up is a little too tight on his chest and the uncomfortable way his new shoes rub his ankle. He’d rather be in a tee and shorts, freshly showered and stretched out. He cannot stop blinking his eyes, hating the way one of his contacts is irritating him, wishing instead to be in glasses and the lowlight of your apartment. 

From the moment he ended that call with you to cancel Blood and Popcorn, all he’s felt is dread. Dread for the upcoming date with someone he should be excited about, dread for telling you how it goes, dread for having to be in public with people and to get to know someone, dread at what happens at the end of the date, does he have to kiss her? Does he have to go get ice cream? What does he do-

“Are you okay?” Sol’s raspy voice draws him from his thoughts - not for the first time that night. She’s leaning back in her seat, dark eyes pinning him to the spot. She is as sharp as she is beautiful, and normally someone like Sol would make him trip over his feet. “You zoned out.”

“I apologize, that was rude of me.”

“It was,” she agrees. She swirls the wine in her glass, looking him up and down before giving him a sympathetic smile. “I won’t be offended if you want to call this off early.” 

“What?”

“You’re not interested,” she asserts. Confident. Self-assured. “It’s totally okay if it’s not working for you.” 

Heat crawls up the side of Chan’s neck. He runs his sweaty palms over his slacks. “I am so sorry,” he says earnestly. “This sounds so stupid to say, but it is me, it isn’t you.”

“No offense, but I know. You’ve been distracted since we got here. You obviously have something or someone else on your mind.” 

“That easy to read, huh?”

“Open book. I have some pride, though. Let’s pay the bill?”

“I’m sorry.”

Her grin is polite. Understanding. “Don’t be. You’re cute and nice, but I cannot suffer knowing your mind isn’t on me.” 

“Understandable.” 

Chan knows he’s lucky. Anyone else a little less level-headed or less confident might have made him suffer. As it is, Sol does let him suffer a little, sliding the bill over to him with a knowing grin. He likes Sol - not like he likes you, but she’s good people. 

“Promise me one thing?” Sol asks before ducking into her Uber. “It’ll help my pride.”

“Sure.”

“Go spend the rest of the evening with whoever it is and make sure you tell them how you feel. It’ll be worth it, that way.”

Chan grins. “Alright. I promise.”

And he does intend to hold to that promise. Something about tonight is different. He can feel it as he walks quickly to his car, undoing the top button of his shirt as he goes. The air is crisp and there are still a few streaks of orange in the night sky, the sun long gone. 

Chan calls you as he turns his car onto the road, heading toward your apartment on the northside of down. He drums his fingers along the steering wheel, buzzing with nervous and excited energy as the line rings. When you don’t pick up, he ends the call. 

Jeonghan was right - he usually is. Chan could either tell you how he feels or live with the consequences, and he’s decided he cannot live with the consequences. He cannot sit across the table from someone who isn’t you and pretend that he isn’t wondering what you’re doing. He cannot look at the curve of someone else’s mouth and wonder what it would be like if it were yours. 

The date had been spurred by the intense wave of jealousy and inadequacy he felt at Jeonghan’s party when he saw you sitting on the couch with Joshua. He has no idea how else he would have had the confidence to start chatting up someone as commanding as Sol, but he was powered by rum and a wounded heart. 

Stupid. It was stupid, he realizes now. He has been stupid so many times regarding you and for long enough that even Joshua, the most polite of his friends, felt like they could respectfully intercept you, now. 

Well, perhaps you will choose Joshua instead. Chan is fine with that. What you want has always been paramount to him. But if you choose Joshua, it will be with the knowledge that Chan loves you and he always has. 

Steeling himself, he gets out of the car at your apartment complex and looks up at the building. He can see the lights on in your living room, confirming you’re still home and probably watching Buffy. The thought sends a thrill through him and he smiles, shaking his head and taking a deep breath.

“You’ve got this, Lee Chan,” he tells himself. “You’ve got this.” 

-

A loud knock on your door startles you. You finish blowing your nose in the issue, trying to suck up the rest of your tears. Pulling the sleeves of your sweater - Chan’s sweater - over your hands, you wipe your face with sweater paws, trying to erase some evidence of your tears before having to face the delivery person. 

Grabbing the bills on the counter, you wonder how many people delivering food have seen people answer the door while crying or immediately after crying. Honestly, they’ve probably seen all types of strange situations, which makes you feel a little bit about answering the door after very clearly sobbing. 

Unlatching the top and flipping the deadbolt, you yank the door open, prepared to not make eye contact to make it a little less awkward for you and the person just trying to hand you pizza and soda, except- 

“Chan?” 

It is Chan standing outside of your door. You blink in surprise, giving him a quick once over. He looks really nice, dressed in slacks and a black button up shirt that is a little too tight across the chest - not that you’re complaining - and the top of the buttons undone to reveal the necklace you gifted him. His dark hair has styling product in it, pushing it out of his face, save for a small rebel strand that hangs over his eyebrow. 

Chan looks… beautiful. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re in his sweatshirt and sweatpants, face swollen from crying, nose a little snotty and looking worse for wear. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Why are you crying?” 

Chan pushes his way into your apartment and you let him, dropping your arm as he passes by. He shuts the door for you, flipping the latch and lock out of habit as he turns to you. He reaches out to grab you by the shoulders but you back up a little, suddenly terrified of his touch. 

He notices. “Why are you crying?” he asks again, dark brows knitted and mouth twisted in a frown. “Talk to me.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” 

“Left early, wasn’t working. What’s going on?” 

You swallow thickly, realizing you’re at a crossroads. Silence stretches between you as he waits for your answer, looking at you with so much concern that you begin to crack. The tension in your throat returns, the telltale sign of tears and you ball your fists, nails digging into your palms.

A torrent of feelings bombard you. Anger. Hurt. Desire. Relief. Hurt again. 

“You canceled Blood and Popcorn.” 

Chan opens and closes his mouth, head cocking to the side a little bit. He looks mystified, trying to put together the pieces to the puzzle. “I don’t understand.”

“You canceled Blood and Popcorn for something else. For someone else.” 

“I-” 

A series of emotions flit over his face. You feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you watch each one, trying to catch them as they go. Confusion. Thoughtfulness. Confusion. Realization. You watch as he drinks you in, the tears, the wet stains from crying on the shirt, your words. Slowly, Chan puts the pieces together for the entire picture, and his face becomes so soft that you nearly cringe. 

“Oh, Bambi.” 

“You can date whoever you want, you’re not mine,” you punch out, wiping a tear as it escapes your eye. Feeling small, you back away from him a little, breaking eye contact. “But it hurts when you shove me aside like that. Look, I know we’re friends, but-”

“Bambi,” he says gently. You’re not looking at him, but you know that tone. The pleading. He’s begging you to stop, you think, but if you don’t get this out now you never will. 

“Blood and Popcorn is important to me. You’re important to me. I know you’ve never seen me as more than a friend, but Chan-”

Chan interrupts you again. This time though, it’s by crashing against you. You nearly topple over onto the coffee table with the force of it, but you cling to him, digging your hands into the meat of his biceps to hold yourself to him. His hands press into the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity to you that you can’t pay any attention to, because Chan presses his mouth against yours softly, stealing all of your thoughts.

For a second, your brain goes static. You’re so stunned you don’t do anything but cling to him, vacantly aware that the softness of his lips are on yours. Tentative. Questioning. 

Chan pulls away and your eyes flutter open. He is only an inch away from your face, his minty breath fanning your lips as he begins to apologize, panic on his face. You interrupt him this time, surging forward to crash your lips to his, far less gentle than he had been the first time. 

The box you’ve shoved every feeling for Chan cracks open. You feel everything pour out of it, a steady stream of want as you press into him. He smells like teakwood and mint, hypnotizing you. His mouth is soft and eager, sucking gently against your bottom lip. 

Everything feels lighter, like gravity has lost all meaning. Chan pulls away from your mouth a little, close enough to brush your lips against his in a feather-light kiss, but enough to gaze down at you through half lidded eyes. 

“The date didn’t work out because I kept thinking of you,” he whispers, voice shaking. You feel your breath stop as he speaks, each word sinking in. “It was stupid to ask her out. I was feeling insecure about Joshua asking you out, and it was stupid and petty-”

You kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss, letting you lead him, slow and lazy. You feel his tongue brush against the seam of your lips and you eagerly let him in, toes curling as he licks into your mouth. 

“I just want you,” Chan admits, breaking away for a quick breath of air. He presses his lips against the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your cheek. He peppers your face in them as his hands skate up your back, hot even through the material of his sweatshirt. “I have for so long and I’ve been so afraid to tell you.”

“I was afraid too.” 

“I have wasted so much time.” His hands cradle your face, turning you to look at him. 

Chan is so earnest. Raw honestly glitters in his eyes. Deeper, hiding beneath the surface is something a little darker and more intense. Want. Desire. Something that lingers, waiting for you to call it forward. You love him so much that in that moment you almost cry more, feeling overwhelmed with everything you’ve buried down for years. 

“I want to make up for it,” you whisper, stealing a kiss that is more teeth than anything. He makes a noise in the back of his throat. Your hands sink to his waist, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. “I was actually going to tell you tonight, before you canceled.”

“What a stupid man I am.”

You smirk a little. “Yes.” 

“Let me apologize,” he murmurs, voice low. You feel yourself shiver as he pushes you toward your room, connecting your mouths again. The kiss is messy and needy, so different than the one moments before. You tangle together, stumbling toward your room. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Oh?” 

The crash landing onto your mattress is not graceful. Chan’s full weight falls on top of you and your foreheads smack a little. You yelp in paint and Chan groans, burying his face in your neck. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles to the surface, exploding out of you as your hands press flat on his back, soothing as you hold him to you.

“First step of apologizing,” you wheeze under him. “Give her a concussion.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, burying his face further in embarrassment. “I’m a little eager.” 

His breath tickles your neck, making you squirm under him. He seems to notice, opting to press open-mouthed kisses against your throat. You hum, eyelids fluttering at the stimulation. “It’s okay,” you breathe, fingers turning to claws against his back. “It’s cute.”

Chan leans off of you, properly supporting himself with arms on either side of your head, caging you in. His knee slots between your legs, making your stomach leap in excitement as he scoots it up a little, almost pressing against you. 

“You’re cute,” he notes, kisses getting messy as they go up your neck toward your ear. He nips your ear and you let out a sound. His laughter is warm against you and you shiver. “You’re in my clothes.”

“I wear them all the time.”

He groans. “I know. Fuck I know.”

“Is that what does it for you?” You move your hands from his back to his waist, pulling the tucked shirt from the waistband of his slacks. His hips twitch forward, excited. He busies his mouth with pressing wet kisses to your jaw. “Me in your clothes?”

“Everything does it for me. I am down horrendous for you.” 

“I really didn’t know.”

He moves a hand to pull at the collar of his sweatshirt, exposing more of your collarbones to him as he kisses. “Everyone else did,” he assures you. You hiss when he bites down and licks over the sting, looking up through dark lashes to gauge your reaction. You nod a little and he grins, doing it again. “Biting. Got it.” 

With trembling fingers, you work the buttons on his shirt. You steal touches as you go, greedy for him. Too long have you hidden what you want in the shadows, too long have you resisted this. Now, you take. 

You brush your fingers against the flexing muscle of his stomach as you pull at the shirt, making him moan deep in his throat. His skin is like fire as you brush your fingers across its warmth, shoving his shirt off. He leans up, letting it fall from his shoulders, rippling to the ground.

The light from your hall glows behind Chan, haloing him in golden light. Your breath catches in your chest as your fingers press to his skin, brush over his shoulders and chest, down his stomach. You feel him twitch beneath your hands but he lets you explore, breathing hard under your reverence. 

Golden boy, so full of fire. It’s all you can think of as you stare up at him, equal parts light and dark in your bedroom. Your hands drop to his belt and you tug him to you, desperate for him. 

“Kiss me,” you beg. 

He does. His mouth is greedy, stealing your breath. A thrill shoots through you when he slides his knee up higher, pressing it between your legs. You breath the kiss to gasp at the barest amount of pressure and Chan grins, watching your reaction through a heavy gaze. 

“Take this off for me,” he asks, voice raspy. He pulls at the hem of his sweatshirt on your frame. “Please.”

You lean up, pressing your mouth to his collarbone in a sweet kiss as you pull the shirt over your head. He helps you, tossing it somewhere else. His hands go to your sides, fingers tracing up your curves as he pushes you back down, claiming your mouth again. 

It feels like you might go crazy. Your bare chest presses against his, the friction turning your blood to liquid fire. His knee is firm between your legs, and when his hand slips to your waist, squeezing you and urging you to roll your hips you can’t help but let out a moan in the shape of his name, helpless.

“Fuck,” he swears, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he helps you move against his thigh. “If you say my name like that again I might bust in my fucking pants.” 

“Chan.” 

“Don’t,” he laughs, biting your shoulder. “I want this so bad.” 

“I want you.”

“I might pass out due to sheer joy.” 

“I have some ideas on how to revive you.” 

He lets out a swear and you laugh. “You’re going to be the death of me.” 

“Maybe.” 

Truth is, you think he might be the death of you. You’d die happily in his arms, completely swept up in the feeling of Chan’s tongue as it skates across your skin and up the swell of your breast. When he pauses, you look down at him. He smirks, happy to have your attention before he flicks his tongue lightly over the peak of your nipple. 

You squeeze your legs around his thigh, back bowing off the bed. He lets out a chuckle, repeating the flicking motion as he watches you with dark, satisfied eyes. It drives you insane, the way he watches you with equal parts reverence and determination to find out what makes you squirm. 

Chan is a fast learner. His teeth scrape against your nipple and you whine, thrashing under him as he teases you, pulling gently. The sting feels so good, making you melt into the mattress underneath him. He makes a sound of appreciation, sucking gently and sending you to the moon before trailing his mouth toward your other breast. 

The hand on your hip squeezes you, reminding you why it had been there in the first place. “Keep going.” His breath fans against your skin and you tremble. “I like seeing you worked up.” 

“God,” you whisper, trying to roll your hips against his leg again. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and as he sucks greedily at your chest you feel like you might rip at the seams. “Who knew you were so… this.” 

You feel his wet grin against you, tongue flicking against your pert nipple. Your head falls to the side as you pant, trying to catch your fucking breath. 

Of course he can reduce you to nothing so easily. No one knows you better than Chan, the two of you like twin flames. Every touch of his tongue, every press of his fingers into your skin, every breath of your name on his lips were made to unravel you because it’s Chan. Your Chan. 

Your Chan who gently pulls the sweatpants from your hips, groaning low and slow when he sees the way your panties stick to your folds. Your Chan who kisses and bites the softness of your thighs, breath ghosting across sensitive flesh, fingers prying your legs apart when they start to twitch shut. 

You’d always been made for him. To think otherwise was folly. You know that now, hand gripping his bones tight as he pulls your hands to the side, the cold air hitting your aching cunt. He lets you squeeze his hand, not caring that your gripping is bone-breaking. 

“Hmm.” He looks up at you and you look down at him. His eyes are blown and he grins, shaking his head a little. “This for me?” You nod, your thoughts banging around the near empty space in your head as you do. “Fuck.” 

And then his tongue presses against you, flat and warm and fuck fuck fuck. You can barely function as Chan drags his tongue slowly up your pussy, avoiding your clit entirely before dragging it back down. He makes a sound in his throat that sounds like a whine and you nearly lose it there, driven insane by him. 

Chan takes the hand he has linked with yours and rests it on your hip, pressing into you to keep you still. You buck under his mouth and he laughs, unbothered as he looks up at you. The vision of him between your legs makes you dizzy, his hair mused, tongue pressed between your folds, eyes starving. 

Your other hand grips his wrist where his opposite hand holds you open. You cling to him, thighs twitching as he licks you at his leisure. His mouth is a weapon, bringing you to the edge of insane easily. When he closes his lips around your clit and sucks gently, you fear you might break. 

He can sense it too, setting himself to the task of pushing you over the edge. Chan learns you so quickly - maybe just knows you intuitively - alternating between circling his tongue around your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking on it gently. 

“I am going to die,” you gasp between ragged breaths. “Your fucking mouth.” 

“Yeah? Feels good?” The buzz of his words drive right into your lower stomach where your orgasmed has so much compacted pressure you know you’re going to snap any moment. “Taste so good. I could eat this pussy all fucking night.” 

“Fuck, Chan. I’m gonna come.” 

He gives a harsh suck to your cunt, the wet sound obscene. “Good.” 

“Like that.”

“Yeah?” he asks, panting. He does it again, following your instruction. Your mouth falls open as you nod, unable to string together more than. “Mmm.” 

Chan doubles his effort, the wet sounds of his mouth making it all the harder to keep it together. He keeps you in place as best as he can, but his little hums of pleasure and the combination of his mouth and tongue send your orgasm slamming into you. 

You think you say his name. You have no idea if anything comes out at all. You come hard, thrashing against the bed as he licks you through it, uncaring. Every nerve in your body is on fire, limbs tingling as you float in the momentary high of your peak before you start to come back down, breathing raggedly. 

A cramp throbs in your fingers that are still twisted in Chan’s grip. You loosen your grip a little bit, feeling a little bad about almost snapping his fingers. He doesn’t seem to mind, head still between your legs, tongue gentle and pressed against your twitching entrance. He avoids your clit, letting you catch your breath.

“Chan,” you mumble. He lifts his head, your arousal spread across his mouth. He is a mess, spiking your need for him. You pull at him, wild. “Kiss me.” 

He doesn’t hesitate. He scrambles up to you, letting go of your hand in favor of cradling your face. The kiss is hungry and wet, your heady taste on his mouth as you drink him in. You don’t care, desperate to have him close, pulling him into you. 

One of your hands snakes between your bodies, pressing against the firm outline of his cock through his pants. He lets out a whine, shaking his head as he breaks the kiss, breathing heavy. 

“Don’t,” he begs. “I will cum right now.” 

“Oh?” 

“I’m so serious, I almost came untouched.”

“Wow, I really do it for you, huh?” 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His sincerity makes you flush and you peck him on the lips. “I cannot promise I will not come apart after a single stroke.” 

“Don’t care.” You undo his belt, pulling. “Want it. Want you. Please don’t make me wait.” 

He curses. “I can deny you nothing.” He sees your wicked grin and shakes his head, laughing as he pulls away to kick out of his pants. “You like having me wrapped around your finger, huh?” 

“You’re not the only one whipped.” He looks at you, doubtful. “You think I share my fries with anyone? Be so real, Chan. That’s something only you can do.” 

“Got it. French fry privileges, what else can I weaponize?” 

You don’t answer his question, distracted by him as he peels his briefs off and fists his heavy cock. You lick your lips, drinking in the length and thickness of him, the sticky, swollen tip, the way he pumps himself when he kneels on the bed again. 

“Hmm?” he asks, noticing you're distracted. “Everything okay?” 

“You have a nice dick,” you blurt. He pauses, raising his brows, thighs pressed to the back of yours. You fold your lips flat, a little embarrassed by your outburst. “Thank you is the proper response to a compliment.” 

He bursts into laughter and you can’t help but join him, covering your face as it heats up. “Don’t hide from me, wanna see you,” he teases, grabbing your hands and pulling them from your face. He pins them above your head. “And thank you.” 

Chan runs the head of his cock along your sticky folds, both of you moaning in unison. His hand still pins yours above your head, making you feel open and vulnerable. Your knees squeeze his hips as he ruts against you a little, eyes focused while he uses his other end to guide himself to your entrance. 

“Mmm,” the sound escapes you as he presses in, the ache in your core doubling for a second as he sinks further. “Fuuuck.”

“Okay?”

“Very. Just- slow.”

“You got it, baby.” 

The term of endearment hits you low in the stomach. Between him whispering baby and sinking into the hilt, you don’t know what drives you crazier. The easy answer is just Chan. It’s simply Chan who does this to you, who turns you inside out, who reduces you to a whimpering mess. 

Chan lets go of your hands and brings it to your face. He leans down, supported by the other hand as he kisses you gently, letting you adjust to his girth, pussy spasming around him as you try to keep it together. The kiss is slow and sweet, in contrast to the feral kiss you shared earlier. 

“Fuck,” he breaths against you mouth, laughing. He presses his forehead against yours. “You’re fucking squeezing me. I might die.” 

You do it on purpose this time and he hisses, all of his muscles clenching. “Like that?” 

“Doonnn’t. If I come right now I’ll be so embarrassed.” 

“Why? It’s just me.”

“I don’t want to one-stroke my dream girl, are you serious?” 

“Dream girl, huh?” He pulls out a little before shallow thrusting back in. “Mmm yeah. That feels good.” 

Instead of answering your jest, he kisses you slowly. His strokes are slow but deep, making you sigh. He feels so good, having him like this. Chan presses his body against you, melding the two of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, squeezing to keep him as close as possible. 

Your name falls from his lips as you move in sync. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, feel him shake in your hands. He buries his face in your neck, mouth pressed against your skin as he breathes heavily. You cling to him, as though you could press your love into him, as though you can transfer it through touch. 

Chan slides a hand between the two of you, reaching down to circle your clit gently. You whimper in surprise, squeezing around him and drawing out a low sound. “I’m gonna come soon,” he murmurs. “Do you have another one, baby? Can you try for me?”

You nod. He presses his lips to your temple, driving his hips faster, fingers firm. You feel yourself wind up again, desperate to catch up to Chan, to give him what he wants, to come undone together. You’d do anything for him - anything he asked. You always have.

A glint of metal catches your eye. You see the necklace you gifted him hanging around his neck, tapping his collarbone in time with his movements. The sight of it makes you possessive, your desire for him surging. Gripping the back of his neck, you bring his mouth to yours. You don’t kiss him, but your mouths are pressed together as you mutter, “I love you, you know?” 

He groans, hips stuttering, fingers firm. You’re so close, you feel yourself right on that edge again. “I do know,” he admits, his cock pressing that perfect spot inside of you that has the room spinning. “I love you too, you know?”

You feel him smile against you. The kiss he gives you is so gentle that it sends you over the edge. You hold him tight, coming undone around him as he groans into your mouth, unraveling with you. When he stills, you keep holding him to you, his embrace warm. 

Chan nudges your nose with his. You open your eyes to find his dark ones peering at you. You smile, lifting a hand to trace your fingers along his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, the roundness of his cheeks. You note the faint freckles under his eyes, his long lashes, the way one side of his lips lifts before the other when he smiles. 

“Hmm?” he asks.

“You’re so pretty.” You trace your finger to his nose and then flick it. He frowns and pulls away, making you laugh. “There is cum leaking down my leg to my ass.” He thrusts once sharply and you whine. “Chaaaan.”

“Hmmm?”

“Can we shower?” 

“We?”

You grin. “You speak French?” 

“I speak pussy.”

“Ew, get off of me!” you laugh, hitting him in the shoulder. He laughs too, rolling off and pulling out. “Take me to the shower, you loser.” 

“Oui.” 

“Then I want to watch Buffy - oh no.”

“What?” He stands and reaches a hand out to you, helping you up. “Are you alright?”

“I ordered pizza and they probably tried to deliver.” 

“That’s okay.” He pulls you toward the shower and smacks your ass lightly, making you yelp. “Start the shower, I’ll call and get it re-delivered.”

You pause, looking at him, unable to bite back the smile. “I love you.”

“Mhmm. Love you too, Bambi.”

-

“I know I’m good looking,” Chan murmurs, eyes on the screen. “But you’re staring very hard at me.” 

You’re laying against his chest, head tilted up to look at him. You can’t help it, watching the blue light from the TV dance across his face, reflected in the glasses he put on after the shower. His hair is still damp and fluffy, skin glistening from the skincare post-shower. 

“You are good looking.”

“Damn. Only like me for the looks?”

“Well your jokes aren’t very good.” 

He levels you with a glare and you laugh, kissing him quickly before settling down in his arms again. His embrace is warm and he smells like your shampoo. You press yourself into him further and he grunts, letting you. 

“Can we do Blood and Popcorn forever?” you ask, watching him fondly. He smiles and kisses your forehead, flooding you with warmth. “Please?”

“Anything you ask, baby. Blood and Popcorn forever.” 

-

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@jespecially @asyre @eoieopda @todorokiskitten @pyeonghongrie-main @sebbyswifu @softiesoga

NOTE: If yo don't see your tag here and you've requested one, your. tag is not working.

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Mc that wants a secret relationship

This is from an ask/request from @notemejellyfish (tagging so they'll see it sooner). I went in another direction than their headcanons on the same topic, but that's not to say that theirs aren't good. They're a great writer, check them out.

Satan

He understands it

Kicks everyone that tryes to make your relationship public

He would still like if he could brag to Mammon about his relationship with you. Just Mammon, he swears.

Would take away the phone of anyone that ships you with anyone

He preferes smaller scale dates anyways, so just cuddling with you while you both talk about random subjects works just fine for him

He cares deeply about you so he'll always keep your prefrences in mind

Mammon

Why though?

That's his only thought

Don't get him wrong, you're his master, he'll do anything you tell him to without complaints

But he wants to know if something is bothering you about being seen with him in public

He can't have his master feeling self-concious, now can he

After you explain that it's due to all the shipping he can't help but laugh

Really? That's easy to fix

Tartaros is the main internet provider in Hell, so he'll ask you if you want all the shipping forums to get removed

He'll try to keep the relationship a secret no matter your answer to the previous question

He's never been in one before and he always wants to try out something new. The feeling of adrenaline at potentially getting caught makes him shudder and he's grateful you gave it to him

Leviathan

Omg finally

The shipping was getting on his nerves, probably more than it did to you

He's so glad you finally made a smart decision, the second in your whole life (the first was dating him)

Since the monarchies in whb are absolute, he bans the use of any tag that includes your name from Hades

Sends a petition to do the same in the other countries and I think only Avisos would sign it (not only is it illegal to steal people's love there, but Bael had enough war threats sent his way from Hades)

He was planing on having a secret, low-scale relationship with you in the first place, so he's the happiest about this change

Beelzebub

He takes this as an invitation

Oh, you want the relationship to be secret?

He can make that fun

He'll make out with you in changing rooms, grope you at the back of the club, pin you to a wall in a small alley and sniff you

He likes the danger of potentially getting caught

Also, just because your relationship isn't public doesn't mean that he won't glare down anyone that gets too close to you

Just because you don't want the internet to know about it doesn't mean that he'll be less passionate and protective of you

Whenever you're out on dates he'll use his power to discuise the two of you, that way, he can be as open with his affection as he likes

He's one of the few that minds the secrecy of your relationship, but he mostly sees it as a new challange

Lucifer

Ok

He'll curse all cameras to shatter when taking a photo or recording of you

It's simple and affective

Gives Gamigin some lectures on how to lie and there's that

Everyone in Paradise Lost might know that you're dating Lucifer, but they're not allowed to say anything about it

And, since no devil would go to Paradise Lost willingly, there's no chance of the secret getting out

He's probably the safest to have a secret relationship with

Nobody in the other countries likes him enough to call for chit-chat, so even if you were in a regular relationship people would still be surprised when they heard you two were dating

[hippiegoth97]

Eddie Munson One-Shots Master List

Collage by me :)

Banner by @cafekitsune

Current Posts

Be Kind, Rewind (Female Reader)

Any Way You Want It (Female Reader)

Cum On Feel the Noize (Female Reader)

Dr. Feelgood (Female Reader)

Last Christmas (Female Reader) Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

Girl On Film (Female Reader)

She-Bop (Female Reader)

Smalltown Boy (Male Reader)

Girls, Girls, Girls (Female Reader, M/F/F Threesome)

Relax (Male Reader)

Wild and Untamed Things (Steddie x Female Reader) Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3

Love Bites (Female Reader)

Sweet Dreams are Made of This (Female Reader)

Heat of the Moment (Female Reader)

Master of Puppets (Female Reader)

You Couldn't Ignore Me If You Tried (Female Reader)

Roam Pt.1 Pt.2 (Female Reader)

Where Is My Mind? (Female Reader)

I Want to Know What Love Is (Female Reader)

Ballcrusher (Female Reader)

Divider by @strangergraphics

Upcoming Posts

Thriller (Female Reader)

Time of The Season (Female Reader)

The Killing Moon (Female Reader)

Rainbow in the Dark (Male Reader)

Object of My Desire (Female Reader)

I Melt With You (Female Reader)

I Wanna Be Your Lover (Female Reader)

Beautiful Boy, Darling Boy (Trans FTM Reader)

Renegade (Female Reader)

Future Request Prompts

These are some leftover ideas from my wattpad days, and ones I may write someday. Feel free to send a request in my inbox, and I'll do my best to finish it in a decent timeframe. I'll do any preferences you like, just follow my request rules that can be found here. I'll do any gender, pairing, etc., though obviously I have some preferences of my own in the descriptions. Also, please feel free to use these ideas for yourself, there's plenty to go around. If you do, don't forget to tag me so I can read your amazing work!

•Graduation Day/Party: You and Eddie graduate together in '86, and have some fun at a graduation party hosted at your house. (I envisioned cheerleader!reader for this, but it's up to you. And preferably the party would be at their house, and they're rich or something.)

•Sub!Reader/Dom!Eddie: Eddie tortures you with toys and edging, very kinky BDSM type stuff.

•Criminal!Reader: You're a runaway dropout who is honestly up to no good. Eddie encounters you when you start cutting in on his business, and you get into all sorts of illegal hijinks together.

•Punk!Dom!Steve Threesome: You and Eddie go to a rock show together, and you happen upon none other than former King Steve Harrington! He's dressed to the nines in punk attire, dyed/buzzed hair, piercings, tattoos, DIY clothes. You and Eddie are very taken with him, and bring him home for a good time (preferably this would be an MLM story, I haven't written queer content as much as I'd like.).

•Vamp!Eddie: Eddie nearly dies in the upside-down, but the bat bites turn him into a vampire. You hide him in your house, feed him, things get bitey, yada yada. (I know it's been done to death, but not by me. Well, not like this, anyway.)

•Truth or Dare: You and the grown teens of the Main Party have a gathering at your house. There's drinking, smoking, teasing games, the like. Everything is going great, until Eddie suggests you play 'truth or dare'. He knows you've been crushing on him for months, and he knows exactly what to do to get you to fess up.

•Canon (but also not) Steddie Threesome: You stay at Steve's with Eddie when you lose your home in the earthquake. You can overhear them having sex at night, which excites you. You try to ignore it, give them their privacy, until you hear the boys talking in bed about how much they want you, what they'd do to you. Eventually, the cat comes crashing out of the bag when you let it slip that you've been hearing them. This was all part of their elaborate plan, of course, much to your delight. (Again, preferably MLM on this one.)

•Wet Dreams: Eddie has a wet dream about you. Any dream you like.

•High School Reunion: It's 2006, the 20-year reunion for Hawkins High Class of '86. Eddie is a megastar, and you haven't even bothered to leave town. You hooked up once back in the day, and you always regretted letting him leave for LA to kickstart his career. Well, without you tagging along, at least. He shows up, much to your surprise, and you swear it's like he never even left.

•Hostile Uterus: You're in an all-girl rock band (named Hostile Uterus, if you couldn't tell), and Eddie sees you perform in a local festival-type event. He falls head over heels almost instantly when he watches you, needing to get to know you. You don't let him in so easily, and you're definitely not one to relinquish control. (Sub!Eddie and Bitchy!Dom!Reader preferred for this, but I'd take suggestions.)

•Oh, Eddie...You're So Fine: You work at a convenience store, which Eddie frequents on a regular basis. You often fantasize about him, your mind traveling to very nasty places while on the clock. One day, Eddie asks you out on a date, making all your wishes come true.

•Tattoos: You get a brand new/your first tattoo and are excited to show it to Eddie. He loves it, and goes crazy on you. (There's so many tattoo possibilities, so I'm leaving that open.)

•Brat!Reader and Dom!Eddie: Eddie is busy working on a new campaign, but you want his attention NOW. You start knocking things over, throwing a little bit of a fit, huffing and puffing. Eddie tries to ignore you, and the teasing you employ, and finish his work. He warns you many times to cut it out, but you don't listen. So, you earn yourself a very big punishment.

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

[queersatanic]

heyo! what can i, a teen in a really boring wealthy neighborhood with no queer community, do to combat fascism/make people aware of how wasteful and bigoted they are/generally fuck things up?

thanks so much!!

Before we get into the meat of your question, one thing we're hearing from this ask that you're going to want to keep an eye on is the idea that you know more than other people and need to educate people from a place of superiority over them. This is something that liberals do quite a lot, and while there's not a lot of reason to be sympathetic to reactionaries, something they are justified in responding negatively to is the patronizing idea that they just lack awareness of how wasteful or bigoted they are (in reality, they have a different set of values, and those values lead them to reasonable, but harmful, ends).

That is not the main point of your ask or this answer, but just watch in yourself the urge to view your self as better than others, speaking down to them.

OK, to the main point of your ask: A really important first step is going to be honestly evaluating the level of risk you're willing to take.

If you are a teenager in a wealthy family, this is probably the time when you are least likely to be meaningfully punished for, for example, breaking laws. However, there will may still be consequences for you that you don't like. Do you have parental support? Do you rely on them for your finances, or do you have some independent income? What is your support network like in general in case you make some of your peers or authority figures upset with you? Etc.

So that's the first thing: think about what sort of consequences you are currently prepared to deal with, with the understanding that may change later for you.

To give you one example: graffiti is great. The one that will probably get you in the most trouble but has some of the highest utility is spraypainting. Of course, if you don't already have artistic hobbies, it may be obvious if you go out and buy a bunch of spraypaint cans then tags start showing up all over your neighborhood, and this might be something you want to keep in mind. But there's also slap stickers, mop markers, wheatpasting. Actually, @crimethinc has a few guides on this already.

That's one example of an area that you can start doing things in with minimal resources and without needing a large group of people. It allows you to get started, which is the important thing. You are transformed by your practices much more than your plans for future practices, and you'll learn lots of things with real understanding that you only learned about from reading or hearing someone else talk about it.

But you do probably want to do things with other people, and most of them will be initially constrained by legality, so start talking to your peers if you aren't already. Don't lead with, "Hey, do you want to do illegal things together?" (and again, that may not be what you're ready for now, anyway). However, you do need to find other people who are interested in the same sorts of things that you are, and face-to-face conversations are the best way to go about this whenever possible.

You said you're a teen, so the assumption is that you're in school. If so, is there an issue on your campus that lots of your fellow students have a grievance against? Can you organize against that?

For example, is there a tardy policy that people feel is unfair? Can you work toward a collective protest by making everyone be tardy to class for a period, a whole day, a whole week, to overwhelm the system? Does the school have rules that are queerphobic? Is there a perhaps smaller group of people who care about that who can organize a walkout?

If you're out of school and at a job, do you have a union there? Do you have a groupchat that excludes management in order to complain about scheduling or unsafe duties or wage theft? Since it sounds like you still live at home, you're probably more willing to take risks at work than people who rely on jobs to pay rent and avoid eviction, but you likely share some concerns in common you can act on.

You're going to best know the issues local to you, but it's a place to start and get people in the practice of self-organizing and acting directly against hierarchical power.

In doing that, you're going to find other people who are perhaps willing to do illegal acts like graffiti with you. Or who have completely different skills and interests, for example cooking. Meals are a good way to bring people together and bond, and can also be extended to others who need it. By getting to know someone who knows how to cook, you can learn skills that help you later, like starting a local "Food Not Bombs" group for folks who would otherwise miss meals.

There's a lot of things that you can do, can do yourself, and can organize with others directly. It is not easy, but it's often very fun, and it will give you skills you can use later in life, as well as open the imagination of lots of other people about what can be done and how.

CrimethInc again has lots of other resources that you may want to become familiar with:

("Theory" and "praxis" aren't really in tension with one another. You read things other people have done to take advantage of their mistakes and experiences, but you still have to go out and do things yourself to really understand it for your situations and yourself.)

[annoyingblondebracket]

Round 1 | Poll 4

~ Note: This poll is being done out of a genuine love and affection for these types of characters! Please keep that in mind when adding commentary.

Propaganda under the cut!

Ryuji:

~ Likes to talk loudly in public spaces about the illegal things he and his friends are doing.

~ He’s a little shit - he is super talkative, very obnoxious, has dumb catchphrases and never thinks before he acts. He is weirdly unpopular in the jpn fanbase and is constantly beaten up in canon and fanon, but he’s pretty well loved in the western fandom!

~ He’s a little slow on the uptick and has a tendency to talk first think later. He’s also a lot less aware of his surroundings, once accidentally outing himself as a Phantom Thief to someone (yes she ended up being a good guy and joined them but still). He’s also a part of a fairly annoying plot point when one member of the team goes missing thanks partially due to his actions, though the fandom has mostly forgiven him for that.

Tamaki:

~ Omfggg where to begin Tamaki thinks hes the main character of a romance anime and like true but he also really annoying. And makes puppy dog eyes every time he wants something. The host club mostly ignore him when hes talking about how beautiful he is even though hes the club president

~ Pretty much all the main characters admit to finding him annoying because he can be silly and overly dramatic.

~ He is completely oblivious to everything going on around him and he is rich and doesn't understand anything about regular life

~ Dear god EVERYTHING about this man is Blond and Annoying. I love him <3

~ Literally the entire show and everyone in the cast thinks hes annoying af [ included a youtube link that i unfortunately had to omit because this won't show up in the tags otherwise </3 ]

~ Tamaki is the most insufferable motherfucker in the world. He’s homophobic. He thinks he’s hot shit. He’s stupid. He talks too much. He sulks endlessly when upset. He has no boundaries at all. His only skills are piano and flirting. He insists that the gnc female lead should be more feminine frequently (for a very long time anyway, he stops eventually). Said lead’s first impression of him was “obnoxious.” For these reasons be brings me joy.

~ "It's not everyday God creates a perfect person like moi, beautiful both inside and out." Loves romance but can't recognize his own feelings as romantic. He thinks of his emotions towards Haruhi as "fatherly love" and therefore refers to himself as her "daddy".

~ cmon this is the Ouran website. tamaki sweep. he is Exhausting god bless

~ overdramatic stupid self-obsessed rich boy (affectionate)

[babyitsbeautiful]

I gotta stop doing these life updates and just get on with it, but nevertheless...

Where do I even start?

I know I promised I would get back to 'crash through the surface' and I swear I will, I feel my creative muse has resurfaced but through a different fandom this time...

Twisters/Glen Powell/Tyler & Kate

I've seen this movie 3 times in the theater and once at a Drive-In but that was kind of a hot mess. Also, Glen Powell-- why, wtf, this man should be illegal in this movie. I live in TN but never got the whole cowboy thing until I saw him in this movie. (Men like that don't really exist here, btw)

I honestly have not loved another fictional couple this much since Gendrya. It's been a minute since I had an unhealthy obsession with something and I am living for it. It has got my love for reading fanfics back to the forefront of my mind again and I feel like I can finally pick back up where I left CTTS off just to get it and Gendrya finished for good. (Gendrya is still the main inspiration behind Beautiful Dangerous and the screenplay I am going to write, so they'll always be in my <3)

Anyway, a lot has been going on this year. A year ago around this time I found out about Lucy's cancer and I can't believe she's been gone for this long. Still miss her everyday. My brother is getting married in October and I'm serving as a bridesmaid, so that should make for a fun story.

But for the moment, I have A LOT going on in August including three out of state trips:

Poll Worker for tomorrow's Election

Nimesh Patel's show at Zanies

5 Days in Florida for my 32nd Birthday

Dermot Kennedy show at Blue Bird Cafe (tickets on sale Friday, wish me luck)

Train & REO Speedwagon Concert

Team Member for Creation Con Indianapolis, Indiana

Then an end of the month Bachelorette trip in Washington D.C.

In the in between days of all of these events, I plan to work on the next chapter of Crash Through The Surface and get that out sometime soon after finishing as well as work on some brewing fanfic ideas for Tyler & Kate in the growing Twisters fandom.

Seriously, go see this movie if you haven't yet.

I already have so many fics to start reading on Ao3 for Tyler and Kate, who needs a ship name BTW. Tate? Kyler? Wrangler Tamer?

Anyways, that's a little bit of where I am right now.

I'm trying to spend less time working on fan art and fics at work due to a new IT system that seems to know everything I download (pics for mood boards being the main) and it's honestly making me very self-conscious so after work is where I'll be letting my creative bitch reign supreme.

I have ideas for Twisters and an outline already for CTTS but any fresh ideas and suggestions are always welcome.

Twisters fandom, if you want a feel of what I love creating the most, search the #gendrya tag on my blog.

Love you all.

[incenseyaoi]

🔞👯‍♂️

*looks at watch* Hm… it’s time for me to write a new pinned post. ☝️🤓

First of all, this blog is for ADULTS ONLY. Obviously. No minors allowed (that means YOU!). If you’re not over 18, please go to a different website.

ANYway.

Hellow! ^.^ Welcome to my dark and twisted mind evil GF blog. My name is Fick, or FS. That could stand for “FickSuck,” or “FordStan” if you prefer. I’m a proud stancester!

Yes, this is my main blog. I follow from here.

My art tag is #fick’s trash.

❤️‍🔥OTP=STANCEST❤️‍🔥

They are soulmates and perfect cutie-pie brothers. :) They blong together, as a set. But they ARE detachable. Sad lonely brothers when apart. 💔

Other ships: pinescest (all variations) but especially dipford and fordbel aksjsh. I like Ford as the family slunt, getting passed around the Shack like a blunt. I respect billford as a canonical bdsm-coded gay relationship, and I see Bill as a vehicle for torturing Ford and making all his other relationships spicier. 👁️ (I also see Bill as an honorary Pines. He abused the Pines, just like a real Pines.) Billdip is cool too, I respect it because it’s a part of gay culture.

And just to be clear, I draw cesty cartoon fetish art because I explicitly want to corrupt people and make them feel bad. I infuse each digital drawing with sigils and codes on a barely-perceptible opaque layer to magickally cast my malevolent intentions onto the viewer. By reading this post, you consent to this.

I’ve deleted and remade here on tumblr half a dozen times, because of mental illness (lol). You might see my art floating around under a few different urls. Like a cockroach, I always come scuttling back. I can’t stay away.

I can’t draw anything else.

In my opinion, tumblr is the best. It’s easy to use, and it’s not twitter. I might have to censor myself a little on here, but it’s worth it. Can’t fucking stand twitter. Btw, if you want to hear me rant about twitter some more, feel free to message me if we’re mutuals. <3

side-blog for piss (and ford torture)

“What if GF porn was illegal?”

[historianofgalar]

Introduction Post

Hello members of Rotomblr. I am Professor Runa, a historian in the Galar region. I study ancient cultures, myths, and religions across the world.

More about me under the cut

I was born in the Crown Tundra, but moved to the Wild Area in mainland Galar to raise my kid, @quillpokebiology . I'm in my 50s and go by she/her pronouns. I'm a fan of Dragapult, if it isn't already obvious. Never participated I the gym challenge, so I've never had a traditional pokemon journey, but by my logic, I've still had one. Just involved a bit of illegal stuff and legendary hunting, which I will NOT be getting into!

Team

I actually have a lot of pokemon, since I own a small farm, and i had to csre for my husband's pokemon after he died. But I'm really fond of ghost types and ancient pokemon, which shows with my team. Some of their names might be hard to pronounce, and I apologize for that. I'm not good with names, so they'll be a bit basic.

Aosmhor-Dragapult

(Pronounced Aosh-war). Aosmhor was my first pokemon, which I hatched from an egg when she was a dreepy. Her name translates from old southern Galarian, meaning "old" or "senile." She can seem intimidating, but she's a super sweet girl, albeit a bit naughty. The dreepy are named Sky and Stormy, btw.

Mallaithe-Runerigus

(Pronounced Mall-ee-hay) Mallaithe is my Runerigus that I caught as a Yamask after accidently breaking an old cursed tomb. A lot of stuff happened, and long story short, she forgave me, and I caught her. I didn't name her myself, but I somehow just knew this was her name.

Kronos-Golurk

Kronos doesn't do much, just sitting around my house all day and guarding from whatever. I've had him since I was a kid, and he was the second pokemon I caught. I just leave him to his own devices.

Toki-Claydol

I found them as a Baltoy in these creepy ruins in Hoenn, and that's what the tag translated said, so I just named them Toki They mostly stay in their pokeball since they creep a lot of people out.

Osiris-Sigilyph

Osiris is one of the more confusing pokemon I have. He mostly just flies around looking and scanning things. But he'll sometimes bring me back artifacts he finds, which is nice.

Anyways yeah, that's my intro post. Feel free to stay if you want to hear cool history.

Ooc

Hello 👋. This is a blog I made to talk about my headcanons on pokemon history and the pokemon world. This is kinda a spinoff of my main rotomblr blog, @quillpokebiology , since that focuses more on biology.

Rules

1. My character is still in development, and some stuff may change! I'll try to acknowledge the contradictions

2. Keep asks and submissions SFW! This blog is run by a minor and is a PG area. Don't be gross!

3. Some of the stuff might be based on real history, but just a pokemon version of it. I'm a history nerd irl, and this is me combining 2 things I love

4. This blog is just for fun, and I'm not trying to offend anyone. If you find something offensive, please tell me and I'll look at it

5. If your account has the default tumblr pfp, is untitled, has no description, has a pornographic name, or pornagraphic imagery, I'll assume that you are a bot and you will be blocked

[clotpolesonly]

@morocorra BET YOU THOUGHT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS

well, i definitely did not, let's talk about Adam impersonating Gansey

so there's a lot to unpack here, obviously, and i am of two minds on the matter. well, ok, i'm of more than two minds. at least three or four minds. i'm conflicted, is what i'm saying here. there are pros and cons to this whole little sequence.

let's start out with the obvious: it was SO unnecessary. they literally didn't have to do this. it doesn't line up with anything in book canon and it didn't serve much of a practical purpose within the show canon that couldn't have been covered elsewhere.

if i recall correctly, in the books, the information about Whelk's father's embezzlement was given to the reader through the narration in Whelk's POV chapters. we don't get that kind of exposition handed to us on screen, we need to see and/or hear it more directly somehow, but it would've been fairly easy to either show it as part of the Noelk flashback sequence or to just have Noah or Whelk outright tell us/another character about it.

usually i'm all for showing and not telling, but sometimes it really is as simple as "my dad got arrested, the bank took all our money, i needed the glendower favor to get it back". instead of using up 20 minutes of screentime on having a main character sneak off, disguise himself as someone else, charm his way into city hall to illegally access police records that i don't think realistically would even be available at city hall in the first place, and then bring that same information back to his friends while refusing to provide them with any context on where or how he got it.

(honestly, he probably could've just fucking googled the Whelk name. was there no press coverage for this at all? come on, man)

so anyway, none of this needed to happen. like, i can see why they thought it might've been a more interesting way to convey that information, but really it just robbed us of a lot of their already very limited screentime. they crammed two whole books into 8 episodes and wasted our time with THIS??

on top of that, it's just........it's absolute UNHINGED behavior. i've seen some people say that it feels out of character for Adam and, yeah, honestly, i agree, at least to a degree.

it's not that book!Adam doesn't want to wear Gansey like a skinsuit. he absolutely does and he's really fucking weird about it. he gets to harvard and cosplays as Gansey so hard that even Ronan is like "dude wtf are you doing" but the thing is, book!Adam would never do it consciously and intentionally. that boy would rather chew his own arm off than recognize/acknowledge/admit how badly he wants to BE Richard Campbell Gansey III. he would literally rather die.

so for him to be on our screens, dying his hair dark and stealing Gansey's clothes and wallet and introducing himself as Dick Gansey to state employees is WILD and feels so so wrong. like, no offense to the writers, but Book!He Would Not Fucking Say That.

-sigh-

however. canon is canon, and he did, in fact, fucking say that on our screens. and i'm gonna be real here, it makes tv!Adam look even more like a complete fucking sociopath than book!Adam ever did adlkjfgh. like, what a batshit psychosexually charged immoral thing for him to do. especially because not only did he use Gansey's name while committing a crime, but he also used Gansey's influence, name-dropped his mother, and promised the county clerk a FAVOR from a US senatorial candidate if she broke the law for him. idk if that's ever gonna come back up again, if it's gonna be relevant and cause problems in later seasons, but even if it doesn't, dude, that's fucked up!!!! wtf lol

...........SO THERE'S ALL THAT

but then, on the other hand

i really enjoyed Adam being a conniving manipulative amoral little mastermind on my television screen, not gonna lie, adlkfjhg

and we know the real crowning glory of this whole ordeal!! hence the tags!!! we knew i was coming back around to this XD

when this show as first announced, i didn't have a lot of hope for the Adam/Declan parallels surviving to screen. many of them were purely textual, phrases and descriptions used for both of them that stand out starkly because of how they're written but wouldn't carry over as well to a visual medium (ie, they weren't born afraid but they learned). i was emotionally prepared to lose those and just make do.

AND THEN THE SHOW WENT OUT OF ITS WAY TO INVENT A WHOLE NEW PARALLEL THAT'S EVEN MORE UNHINGED THAN ANYTHING THE BOOKS COULD'VE GIVEN ME

i cannot believe that they made a big change to Declan's character and then also made a corresponding change to Adam's that matches Declan's deviation from canon, like did they do that one purpose?? is it a coincidence??? it can't be a coincidence, surely

okay i'll cop that it's not a perfect parallel. or, i'd say, it's both a parallel and a contrast.

we didn't get to see Declan going blond or making that decision, we don't know if it was a trauma-fueled impulse like him re-dying it dark was or if it was a choice made with a little more poise and composure, but either way it was something entirely intrinsically motivated. he did it for him, even though it caused him problems and he likely knew that it would, while Adam dying his hair dark (temporarily, it's only a level 1 dye, the kind that washes out pretty quickly, and we see that it's gone by the next episode and no one else is any the wiser about what he did) is externally motivated and for a practical purpose. it's part of a scheme rather than something that he feels emotionally driven to do as part of a coping process.

but even that says so much about them as people. Declan likes to claim that he's so rational and detached, but underneath the facade he wears, he's as impulsive and passionate as Ronan is. his emotions lead him far more often than he wants to admit even to himself. both instances of his hair fuckery are driven by emotional overwhelm, and both are permanent changes (for a given value). you can't unbleach hair that has been bleached, and level 3 dye takes weeks or months to fade. and he owns his choices in the aftermath because, as the books say, Lynches always want to be seen as deliberate, even if it's deliberately cruel or, in this case, deliberately with bad taste in aesthetic choices (lmao).

meanwhile, Adam truly is a much more rational thinker. even when he feels strong emotion, he examines it and picks it apart and makes a real effort toward not acting on it. regardless of his emotional state, on the whole, he is driven by thought and logic. he dyes his hair because his appearance is a tool to be utilized to achieve an end - in this case, accessing information that he wouldn't be able to if he presented as himself. Gansey has clout that he doesn't, and thus taking on Gansey's appearance and name allows him to leverage that clout for his own ends. and when that end is achieved, Adam takes off the disguise. he rinses the dye out of his hair. he is himself again.

through this whole metamorphosis, Adam never loses his sense of self. he is playing Gansey's role, yes, but it's a costume and he knows it is and he takes it off when he's done. but Declan doesn't have a solid sense of self. his identity is a fractured mess, and he has to go through another external process in an effort to regain what he'd stripped away from himself. he cannot unbleach his hair, he has to dye it dark again in an attempt to match his natural color. even when he's trying to be himself, he's still pretending.

if i were to read even more too much into this (😂) i would say this could also be representative of their stations in life and how they feel about themselves -- ie, Declan has the means to make whatever changes he wants, he can live any life he likes (in theory), but none of it means anything if he doesn't know who he is or how to be that person in an authentic way. and Adam feels like, as much as he can play at being better than his roots, in truth he will always be what he is and no amount of slapping paint on top is ever going to change him. from dust he came and to dust he will return. Declan cannot decide if he wants to look like his father or not, that association is fraught and complicated for him and the push-pull of it is tearing him apart, and Adam desperately aspires to distance himself from the father he resembles but believes, deep down, that there is no escaping their similarity.

it makes the monmouth gatekeeping scene spicy in its own weird way, at least for me. it's the only time these two are face to face on screen with nothing else going on around them, just the two of them going head to head. the natural blond and the fake. i have to wonder if that scene is where Adam got the idea for his own brunet adventure. after all, he learned how to flirt from observing and copying Declan, why shouldn't he get tips on pretending to be someone he's not from Declan too? he did it first and he does it best, after all.

[rollercoasterwords]

Hello!

are you having a good day?

just curious, are you writing something at the moment? i know ur writing this rotten work (which is amazing btw) but i feel like i remember u mentioning ur writing something else as well, but i'm not completely sure.

also, this has probably been asked already so here's a picture of my cats to make up for possibly repeating an already asked question

omg the cats!!!! so precious they are napping together <3 <3 <3 curled up so nicely into little balls.....tails tucked in and everything....i love them please kiss their little foreheads for me <3 <3 <3

and to answer ur question--yes!! 'this rotten work' is, obviously, a current wip since i was too impatient to wait to post the chapters lol, but to be completely honest i.....have not written a single word of it in like. 3 months at this point lol. like i haven't even started chapter 3 which is partially bc i got distracted by the cowboy fic that i finished back in january + partially bc i got burnt out and needed a little break + partially bc i was also just busy in jan-feb with grad school apps + travel BUT. also partially bc all the writing i have been doing since jan has basically just been on my other main wip, which i have been posting abt on this blog under the #wfrau tag but have not yet started posting on ao3.

basically i had the idea for a fic where remus competes in an underground werewolf fighting ring and that's how he + sirius meet; it spiralled and has now become a voldemort-won au where voldemort's been in power since 1965 so the marauders never met + instead all grew up separately. sirius's friend takes him to an illegal werewolf fighting ring one night; sirius meets remus; sirius inserts himself into remus's life + things spiral from there <3 plot-wise it's sort of divided into 3 parts in my head rn; eventually the Order will get involved and the plan is for it to turn into a horcrux-hunting fic! fun <3

anyway i initially was like "oh i'll just write the first ch to get it out of my head and then i'll focus on the zombie fic and write this on the side, then once i finish the zombie fic i'll start posting this one." but then i wrote the first ch and i was like ok....just one more ch. and then i wrote the second ch and i was like hmmm one more ch....and then i wrote the third ch and i was like um one more and then i wrote the fourth ch and i was like um one more and now. it is sitting pretty at 34k words and i'm just admitting defeat and apologizing to the zombie fic + putting her on the shelf for the forseeable future as this other wip consumes my brain. i'll probably start slowly posting it on ao3 once i finish ch 6 (which is sort of like. Part I of the fic) and sort of write ahead as i post, or at least that's the tentative plan rn!

[lemongingerart]

The escape, part 1 till 4.1

THIS POST IS TO COMPLETE ALL CHAPTERS ON TUMBLR! I've shared these chapters of my fanfic in links before, but never the full text. So nothing new to read, alas... (but, I'm working on the publication of arc 2 very soon, I swear 😇)

Summary: The first arc of my Armitage Hux x OC fanfic, working title "shattered ambitions, rebuilt into dreams." or, "chocolate cookies and tarine tea" depending on my mood 🤔💁.

Rating: Explicit. This is the NSFW version (first 2 chapters are SFW). So, Minors, do NOT read or interact. 18+. Family, friends and colleagues, please don't read this. :'-)

Tags & warnings: TRoS fix-it (kind of), Hux!lives, Hux doesn't like Kylo, Not a Redemption Arc, maybe a little bit, shameless OC insert (there are cliches but entertaining ones imo), slow emotional burn, medium sexual burn, Enemies to Enemies With Benefits to Lovers, Hux is a villain with villainous thoughts at first, but let's see what a different environment will do, Choking, Virgin Characters, Masturbation in Shower, and out of the shower too, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Past Child Abuse, Very short suicide mention.

I will add tags as we proceed in the story, please let me know if I forgot one!

From chapter 3 on: mentions of choking, non-consent actions, vague sexual thoughts From chapter 4 on: NSFW - mentions of sex, non-consent plans, masturbation, Hux is a manipulative asshole and a shy coward at the same time. Has shady plans. I love him.

A/N:

Hello there!

I wrote this little fanfic about 2 years ago, to get my very vivid daydreams under control. I wasn't really planning on publishing this, but it feels wrong just to have it catching digital dust on my drive. So recently, I picked it up again and started to flesh out the parts that were still missing. I haven't finished it at all, but at least the first arc is done, so I can update that one on a regular basis!

The initial fic started as smut, but somehow I've written more action scenes than lemons. And worldbuilding. And fluff. And character development. So, this has no genre? There *is* a main plot, but there are filler episodes as well to just explore the character's interactions, or just because I like to add easter eggs to my version of this vast Star Wars universe.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! And bear with me, English is not my native language. I never thought myself to be a fanfic writer at all, but I sincerely hope this is as entertaining for you as it is for me. Constructive comments are always welcome! I love to hear your thoughts and learn what I can improve!

(Also the first paragraph is kind of heavy, but it's the character's fault I swear!)

Chapter 1 - escape destiny

First Order star destroyer Steadfast , 35 ABY.

Allegiant general Enric Pryde was not a fool. From the moment he and his armada came out of the unknown regions, to reinforce the current First Order military fleet known to the galaxy, he knew. His guidance was needed for the survival of the order. 

He had watched those two immature boys for some time now, seeing how their positions within the First Order had changed. He knew that Ren was the one illegally seizing power and trying to sidestep Hux, just because he could. He saw the rivalry grow, leaving Ren and Hux bickering over the most futile decisions. It was corrupting the order, as the emperor had foreseen. 

After Snoke’s fall, there was no clear vision left, no straight path to victory any more. At least not without him, that is.

He knew his chance to seize command would come soon. Ren was now too occupied with the Jakku girl, and Hux's frustrations towards Ren’s chaotic behaviour grew every time they collided. Pryde was not happy either with the self-proclaimed supreme leader’s decisions, but at least he could use them for his own good. Hux, on the contrary, was barking like a caged Akk dog, bitterly knowing he’ll be the first to fall after his failure at Starkiller base. His misstep on D’Qar, letting the dreadnought Fulminatrix get destroyed, left a second stain on his career as well. 

Pride inwardly smiled. Hux used to be a prodigy, but he lacked experience and was too frustrated with his loss of power, and that caught onto him. And now, it appears he has no backbone to cope with the sticky situation he was in. It was like Hux's late father once mentioned to him, back when their paths crossed in the unknown regions. His son has no spine and is not made for this life. 

Thinking back at that particular conversation, it was actually surprising he lasted this long. 

Lately, Pryde noticed that Hux even stopped stating his concerns to Ren. He seemed beaten, or at least, that was the impression he was trying to make. And Ren, he was growing more and more insane. That boy was even worse to work with, a loose cannon on deck, only kept there by the emperor because he is supposed to be some part of a prophecy. Pryde suspected that the emperor’s plan for Ren would soon become clear to him. He hoped it didn't involve him having to keep answering to that short tempered idiot.

He stopped his trajectory when he arrived at the middle of the bridge, and peered outside through the front view.

It was only a matter of time for him to take over from those two foolish boys playing toy army. And then, nothing would stand in his way to shape the universe to the vision of the one true emperor. Pryde’s own flavor included, of course.

But first, he needed to catch the culprit who got word to the Resistance about Exegol. Although Hux reassured him that his men are trained well and fully indoctrinated with the first order's philosophy, he had his doubts. Lately, rumours reached him about Phasma being the one who had assassinated Hux’ father, Brendol. The fact that Armitage Hux and Phasma had been seen together more frequently, before her demise, was another big red warning sign for him. 

He had decided to keep a close eye on both of them already a while ago. Now, Phasma was eliminated, and the spy continued leaking information. 

He assumed Hux's changed behaviour towards Ren was no coincidence either. He had seen the ginger boy in action before, scheming and working his way up. He was not to be underestimated, and the fact that Ren was taking every actual decisive power out of Hux’s hands, wasn’t going to be digested well by the latter. 

Yes, the leader of the first order's army and former supervisor of Starkiller base was his number one suspect.

The hiss of the bridge's main entrance woke Pride from his speculative thoughts.

A trooper squad approached the Allegiant General, bringing forth a prisoner.  “Sir, we have found another one. As requested, we brought her here”, the first trooper reported. “Ah, the emperor will be pleased", Pryde replied. He turned to another officer standing to the left of him and replied: "Officer Trach, can you prepare the test?” Trach nodded curtly and turned around.

The handcuffed girl looked at Pryde with fierce amber eyes and spilled a waterfall of angry words: “Let me go! I didn’t mean to slice into the system, I was just experimenting! I didn’t do anything wrong, you’ll see! There wasn’t anything interesting to find anyway!”. She slightly heaved from the outburst.

Pryde looked over his shoulder and looked down upon the rather short prisoner. What a... rude chatterbox..., he amusingly thought. Such noise for such a small girl.

“Oh, but you’re not here because you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s because of what you might do in the future,” he responded, his face sporting a wry smile. Trach had joined his flank, and Pryde took the test device from the officer. The two troopers, who were escorting the struggling girl, routinely forced her on her knees, not waiting for Pryde’s orders. One of them took her right arm and pulled up her sleeve. She tried to fight back and snarled: ‘Hey, let me go! You’re hurting me!’ to her assaultants, who were struggling to keep her pinned on her position.

Pryde approached her, pulling back her head by her hair. She groaned, but found the strength to spit straight in his face. The allegiant general backed up, letting out a low growl. He wiped away the spit from his cheek with his gloves. 'You insolent bi-…' he started saying, instantly pushing the test device to the skin of her arm and definitely applying more force than necessary. He kept his distance this time, making sure he wasn't going to be covered in spit a second time. She looked him in his eyes, as if she could strike him down glaring. He chuckled, this was one of the reasons why he didn’t delegate the tests, whenever his schedule permitted it; he liked what was coming next. She was a fiery one, full of life, but not for long. 

He pressed the trigger with force, and enjoyed the way he saw her face flinch. Her eyes went teary and lost focus. Ah, he savoured that feeling of power. “You see, eventually, everyone ends up the same way.” he stated with a sly smile, releasing the trigger and giving back the apparatus to Trach.

The girl fell limp and landed face first on the immaculate deck.

Pryde turned around and went over to the center of bridge, reminiscing about moments like these, when the test subjects started to lose their consciousness. These tests were a great reminder of how he could toy with the lives he overpowered. And power, he craved.

“Report me if the midichlorian test confirms the reported values” he routiniously said. Trach nodded and took the device elsewhere.

At that exact moment, Pryde heard the repulsor doors to the bridge open again. He turned around, seeing his number one suspect and adversary approaching. 

He raised his eyebrow, confused and intrigued by this new turn of events. General Hux was limping, his leg hastily bandaged. Blood was already seeping through his uniform pants, the wound clearly caused by a blaster shot. 

Pryde noticed that the general looked even paler than usual, and somehow he lost some of his annoying pride and charisma. Not that he had much of both left lately. Of course, given the situation, he didn’t expect anything else from that overconfident boy. He always thought he was worthless, only thriving because there used to be a void in the first order’s leading positions. It appears he's not resilient enough to cope with a few setbacks , he mused. As I expected. 

He could admit though that Armitage was smart, smarter than his father, but Pryde had lived longer than him. He saw how the galactic empire had brought order to the galaxy, by ending the clone wars. He saw dozens of people with ambition come and go. The higher their aim, the greater the fall. The emperor saw through them time and time again, together with his counseling. This time, it was Hux’s turn to fall and - finally - his own time to rise.

 'It was a coordinated incursion, allegiant general', Hux recited, his voice trembling either by anger or by fear. Maybe both, Pryde considered, thinking back about his earlier train of thoughts. 'They overpowered the guards and forced me to take them to their ship.' 

Liar , Pryde thought, feeling strangely satisfied. This was it. The opportunity he was waiting for. Hux's half-baked excuse was exactly what he needed; he just presented Pryde with perfect leverage to bring him down . It seems I was right all along, and even if he's not the spy after all, I will make sure everyone believes he was. This is the perfect moment . 

 'I see', Pryde responded dryly.

 'Get me the supreme leader,'' he requested his communication officer. 

That exact same moment, he took the blaster from the nearest trooper and swiftly turned around, shooting Hux right in the stomach. His target’s body immediately flew backwards and landed several meters further, carried by the force of the blast.

The allegiant general was thrilled by the rush of action, but quickly tried to hide it from his subordinates. He still had it in him. He had to play this game to the end…

 'Tell him I found the spy,' he stated to the communication officer. 

A sense of pride and self indulgence overcame him. 'Throw the traitor's body in the trash compactor, where he belongs', he loudly stated, making sure he was heard by the very soldiers Hux had recruited and had overseen their training for decades. 

He eliminated his first rival, now it's time to move onward to the second one, Ren. 

Pryde turned towards the empty void of space, feeling the adrenaline rush slowly fading from his veins.

'Sir, what about the girl?' He heard officer Trach ask. Pryde looked up to him and turned to the side deck. He almost forgot about her. The captive was still on the floor, staring with wide eyes at the place Hux had stood, just half a minute ago. She looked pale, as if she saw a ghost. Heh . He thought. Seems like she lost that boldness already. It only took just one kill for her to witness, just that bit, to silence her. As I expected from a mere civilian.  He replied: 'Lock her up as usual. Until the results are confirmed, we don't know if she can onboard the shuttle’.

What the kriff… What's happening? First I get abducted by some creepy hooded individuals, then I seem to be on some dank first order flagship, and now this bastard forces me down and gives me this shot from a device that looked way too fragging big to be medically responsible… which was shukking painful by the way… and my head is spinning so hard.. .

Miko shortly lost her consciousness from the blood that was quickly pulled from her veins. She didn't feel the smack when her head hit the shiny black durasteel floor, everything went dark for a few seconds. 

When she regained her sight, she saw two black boots turning away from her. A moment later  after the deafening sound of the blood rushing in her ears stopped, she could hear the typical sound of a repulsor steered door opening. She didn’t feel completely conscious yet, but the adrenaline rushed her senses on full alert in no time. Someone had entered the bridge, she assumed, as that old bastard was not paying attention to her any more. 

Good, maybe she could come up with some plan, or at least get a clue of what the frack was going on here. 

She righted her head and turned towards the newcomer. Her whole body was loudly complaining, refusing her to fully lift up her head, so she turned it to the side. She couldn't really understand what they were saying, her ears were still buzzing. But somehow, she could feel the tension rising fast. It was like the atmosphere was getting electrically charged. She saw the older one of the duo, the one that just kriffing harassed her, turn around again, stepping away from the younger one and taking the blaster from the trooper next to him.

W-whoa...wwait! Don't shoot! She tried to yell, but nothing came out. She had tried to reach out with her hand, as if she could stop the grey-haired bastard from shooting the red-haired douchebag, but her body just didn't respond to her commands like it should. 

The officer fully took the shot and his body violently flung back to the bridge's main entrance. 

D-did he just kill another crewmember like it was nothing? I… I knew the  'worst order' had a fragging bad reputation, but... this? 

Miko suddenly felt sick from watching someone die in front of her, even if it was probably someone she hadn’t wanted to get to know better, anyway. She never witnessed something as life-threatening as this before, and wished she never would, again. Her stomach turned. A cold blooded murder, executed by the officer who took interest in her. 

Great .

She heard someone ask a question that probably referred to her presence, but her mind wasn't able to register what exactly was going on. The troopers that had pressed her on her knees, now pulled her on her wobbly feet. She was slowly getting able to move again, but all felt like she was in some kind of bad dream. One took her by the handcuffs, while the other went to drag the lifeless corpse to the trash compactor.

Miko was roughly pulled forward through the hallways of the Steadfast . The two first order troopers were now walking next to her, one on each side. The right one was holding the cuffs tightly. When she looked the other way, she saw the other trooper with two boots in his hands. He was disrespectfully dragging the dead officer forward, like he was sweeping the floor. The trooper to her left scraped his throat and started talking to his comrade: “the trash compactor is closer, let me first throw him in”. The other trooper nodded curtly. She shivered. She knew the First Order was bad news, but this was much worse than she expected. How am I ever going to get out of this frigging hellhole?

I have to come up with a plan , she desperately thought.  She had to try to look around for some way out.

The group turned down another hallway, reaching one of the many trash compactor entrances that existed on the resurgent-class star destroyer. She heard the other trooper sigh. Was this business as usual for them? Or were they affected by this wicked situation as well? She wondered. Their black visors and stiff armor hid their expressions very well, it was impossible to tell.

She felt a lump in her throat, thinking back about what happened on the bridge. Should I have a last look at him? She thought, somehow feeling sorry for the shot down officer. She turned her head and shoulders to catch a glance of him. However, the trooper that was holding her in check, suddenly reacted to her maneuver, and roughly pulled her cuffs towards him.  But instead of pulling her back in line, she lost her balance, falling backwards with a swirl, right onto the lifeless corpse.

Miko froze. 

She was staring right into the empty blueish green eyes of the man that was just shot and killed. 

Her cuffed hands had landed on his chest, and the physical contact with this corpse made her feel like she was going to throw up. She desperately closed her eyes to ignore the sensory overload and felt a cold chill, like a shockwave, go through her. This was how she was going to meet her end too, right? A dead lump, ready to be composted on this stupid war machine. How did this all happen so fast? And - by the fragging stars - why?

Her hands were pulled up once again by the trooper, but she felt so limp, she couldn't find the strength to react. The situation went south so quickly, and there was no escape whatsoever, she hopelessly thought.

She felt movement beneath her, and opened her eyes again, expecting that the other trooper had started pulling the still warm body. But instead, she looked in the exact same blueish green eyes again, staring back at her . 

What the fr-...? 

The presumed-dead officer quickly pulled his hand from beneath her, reaching out to the trooper holding her handcuffs, swiftly grabbing the trooper’s blaster from its holster. He shot the other trooper in the chest, before the blaster was even removed from the holster. The framed trooper turned around in confusion, receiving a shot in the stomach himself. 

In a mere few seconds, Miko found herself on the ground in between two lifeless troopers, a man who was very much supposed to be dead sitting next to her. 

She looked at him in shock, not understanding a bit from what had just happened. 

To her surprise, he looked as confused as she was. The burn from the blast was apparent on his otherwise spotless uniform and she could’ve sworn that he was really absolutely dead just seconds ago. Not that she had any experience with laying on a dead body at all, but still.

“What did you do?!” he half whispered-half shouted her way. 

“What did I do? I witnessed you die back there!” she responded with the same hissing voice. The officer ignored her reaction and started touching the hole in his uniform. “It pierced through the blaster protection, as I feared…" the man frowned. "Why were you present on the bridge?” he sternly demanded. 

Miko felt even more confused and slightly annoyed by his commanding tone. “What do you mean? And I have no idea why I was there! That creep took some painful blood samples from my arm and was going to lock me up, that’s the only thing I know!” She responded, slightly raising her voice. 

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Did he by any chance say anything else?” 

Miko tried to recall the situation, but everything went so quickly and the blood loss made her memories blurry. “Yeah, he said something about some midi-what-the-hell-ian values he was going to check”. She crossed her arms, scanning his face for answers. 

The first order officer stared back at her, nose twitching, as if she had caught some rare disease. He then started rubbing his chest again in slow circles. His hand clenched at the fabric for a fraction, before he quickly stood up and started walking further into the hallway and away from her, his back straight. 

“Hey! Where the frag are you going?” Miko shouted. He didn’t respond, didn't look back at her or slowed down. He acted as if she wasn’t even kriffing there. 

She didn't like this attitude of his at all.

Miko stumbled and almost fell, having trouble standing up with her hands cuffed. But she quickly ran after him and grabbed his arm, hoping to get some response out of him. She didn't like the idea at all, but he was probably her only chance of survival, so she wasn't going to let him get away just like that. 

He suddenly turned and looked back at her with a menacing glare, as if touching him was way off limits. She backed away and forgot about her plan, surprised by his reaction and taken aback by his piercing eyes. Luckily, he paused for a second and looked back and forth, as if he was overthinking the situation.  

He sighed. “Follow me if you want to get out of this ship”, he coldly replied.

Chapter 2 - escape from Steadfast

What’s this? Why am I on the floor? And why is this odd fuzzy hairball staring at me like she had just seen a ghost? And why in the order's name is she on top of me? Hux thought in disdain. He was confused, disoriented and absolutely not comfortable with having someone invading his personal space. 

He tried to clear his mind and focus on the past events. Wasn’t he on the bridge of the Steadfast ? 

Pryde . 

He remembered. 

While his eyes were adjusting to the hallway light, he saw 2 troopers slowly reaching for the girl, unaware of him regaining his consciousness. This was the moment he needed to act on. 

He reached for the nearest trooper's blaster and swiftly shot both soldiers. The girl automatically moved to the side, making way so he could get up on his knees. 

Hux stared at the white armored bodies. What a waste, I had to shoot a total of five troopers in one day, he thought. 

He paused and gulped down the nauseous feeling he got from the turn of events. Not that any of them mattered to him any more.

The girl quickly told him what happened. He cursed inwardly. If what he suspects was true, he was just saved by a force sensitive. Ugh , he absolutely hated the thought of being saved by someone with the likes of Kylo Ren. Apart from his rivalry with the latter, he wasn’t a fan of anything that couldn’t be scientifically explained either. 

It seems that she is not aware of her abilities, though , he noticed. For now, let’s keep it that way. I don’t want to give her any ideas. But why is Pryde picking up force sensitive people? One is already too much! He felt his frustrations rise again, thinking about the self-proclaimed supreme leader and the way he used that Force power to lash out at him physically. He unwillingly touched his neck, remembering his latest encounter with Kylo.

He tried to regain his composure. Let’s evaluate the situation later, she might come in handy right now.

He looked at the two troopers he just shot. My first priority should be a swift escape, which will be much easier as long as I'm presumed dead,   he reasoned. He took the blaster from the floor, started walking and eventually called the girl to follow him. “We should get to the lower hangar, my shuttle is stationed there. I was planning to depart, so it should be fueled up by now” he stated, increasing the pace.  

He suddenly stopped in his tracks. If the girl was the only one leaving a trace, no one will know he’s still alive, even after his escape. That would give him a significant tactical advantage. He should come up with a plan to reach the shuttle without being noticed.

The girl, obviously still confused about the whole situation, walked right into him, giving him a bump in the back. 

“Watch we’re you’re going!” he hissed. She was looking back into his eyes, anger showing in hers. She pointed a finger to his chest, her hands still cuffed.  “You’re hard to keep up with, you’re at least 2 heads bigger than I am, and then you frigging stop out of the blue! What do you expect to happen!” She silently shouted back. 

Hux felt his anger level rise. This whole day had been full of stress and frustration, and this brat was only adding fuel to the fire. She should learn her place, or this is not going to work well, he thought, while grinding his teeth. She bothered him already twice in this short timespan, and with such insolence. 

But he also knew that he didn’t have any better options, and he had manipulated people into serving his purpose in the past. He had to make this work, for his own sake. 

He looked at her with cold stern eyes, then turned his head towards a hallway with an open door, leading to the hangar. “We need to get to my ship and make sure we can take off. We have to get authorization from the control tower first,” he stated.  She sighed, tried to cross her handcuffed arms and replied with a sceptical look: “And how are you going to pull that off?” 

Armitage thought he felt a vein in his brain pop, not used to receiving such answers. He refrained from the urge to verbally lash out to her and forced himself to think about the situation ahead. 

He brought his gloved right hand to his chin. She did have a point. He had to give up his cover, if he wanted to try to convince someone. He could go back to take the trooper’s helmet, call control tower, and hope that the microphone unit would cover up his voice. But using his authorization code was a great risk. Most of the troopers knew him all too well… he implicitly recruited and oversaw training for most of them, after all. He was the image of the army's propaganda. News of his demise had probably already spread, so using anything related to his identity would most certainly ring some alarms. 

His shoulder was pounded upon again, so he looked down with slight resignation. The girl was holding her hands to the side, wanting to put them on her hips, but not able to do so due to the handcuffs. “Leave that to me”, she whispered with a sly smile. 

He pulled one eyebrow up again. “What do you mean?” he responded with a slightly cynical voice. 

“Can you guide me to an access port somewhere?” she smiled enthusiastically. 

Her reaction looked somewhat childish in his eyes, and that really didn’t give him any confidence. But his plan was too risky anyway, so he could at least give her the benefit of the doubt, he considered. 

Hux pointed her to the nearest access point. She sat down on one knee, looking at the port. He was feeling very sceptical about this. How can this girl do anything with that access port? Without a scomp link, she can't even access it, he wondered. He saw her looking over her shoulder, whispering something. She’s not going to do some force magic, right… he thought in disdain, furrowing his brows.

‘PC, you can come out now’, he now heard her  whisper. A tiny droid crawled out of the neck sleeve of her jacket. It had 2 visual sensors and 4 motoric ones, it resembled something animal-like. A small reptilian type of animal, including the bulging eyes and flexible tail. The thing found its way via her arms to the access point, turning to use said tail as the communicator, the scomp link. She whispered instructions to the little droid, before she pulled out a small working pad from her gear. She started scanning the screen with full concentration and started slicing, clearly forgetting his presence.

Hux was intrigued by the droid, he never saw such a small animal-like model. The way it swiftly moved the access point’s turning wheel was peculiar, but most effective. If he was head of the infiltration division, this model would make a great asset. 

If I was still in charge… but that’s all over and done now. He gulped. 

If… only I'm able to get to Ren . The stakes were high, too high for his liking, but he would do anything to make the idiotic force user disappear. 

The droid made a squeaky sound.  The girl turned to Hux again. “All done!” she exclaimed, enthusiastic about her presumed success. He was still sceptical though, her enthusiasm only making him feel less confident. Does she really know what she's doing? She sure doesn't act like it , he wondered. But… if she really achieved changing flight plans and authorizations without notice, she could disable the surveillance cameras as well. She might even be able to diminish the amount of troops in the hangar, too , he reasoned. The longer he was presumed dead, the better. 

He asked her if she could pull that one off, and she responded positively. The droid squeaked, and she focused back on the access port. 

Hux was nervously pacing through the hallway, and although it took her and that droid only two minutes, it felt like eternity. The more dead moments like this, the more chance they could be discovered. 

He felt his heart racing from not being able to do anything, his mind starting to come up with all kinds of worst-case scenarios. He took another swing, and saw her standing up and putting two thumbs up in the air. Good. Urgent time to leave.

 “Okay, let's advance and check if your little trick worked. Walk before me and pull up your hands.” he stated. 

“What? Why?” she responded with a low tone, clearly finding his request suspicious. “I’m going to transfer you as a prisoner to the shuttle”, he explained with a hissing tone. “Oh-okay, I can go with that.” She said with a voice full of doubt. 

As if she had another choice , he thought scornfully.

The droid retreated back into her jacket, its lean form making sure it wasn’t visible from the outside. Hux removed the bandage from his left leg. The bleeding hadn’t entirely stopped, but the white fabric was way too obvious. The black hole on his chest was clearly visible, too.  “Walk closely before me, so they don’t notice the damage on my uniform,” he added, while disposing of the cloth. He took the confiscated blaster and pointed it on her back, coercing her to start walking. 

The duo marched over to the hangar deck. Hux scanned the hangar. Good, it seems the dock was manned with minimum capacity. Maybe her slicing efforts actually had their results.  

Apart from that, he spotted nothing out of the ordinary, which was a good sign. It indicated that the news of his presumed death had not reached the hangar personnel yet. If he was lucky, none of them would think back about this moment or even notice them. They had to move as subtle as possible. 

He slowly picked up the pace, but tried not to go too fast so that he had to limp. The shot wound in his leg was slowly starting to take its toll. They passed a few of the hangar crew members and he sternly nodded to a trooper that saluted him. He hoped none of them would see the sweat on his forehead. Or wonder why he was there and no pilot was with him. It’s been a while since he flew himself, after all. 

They walked on the ramp of the shuttle and he opened the cargo doors. Without looking up, they both stepped inside.

(small bonus doodle because I love awkward situations and they need more attention)

Chapter 2 - escape from Steadfast (II)

Hux closed the shuttle door as fast as possible and let the girl free. He let out a breath. He didn't prefer to be in risky situations at all. Being on the bridge, executing battle strategies was his forte, not actually being in the field. 

He marched to the cockpit, the girl followed in his wake. He swiftly sat down and started to power up his shuttle. “Prepare for a swift jump to lightspeed” he stated, without looking her way. She slowly looked around,  taking in the environment. “O-ok” she absentively answered. 

He paused, wondering how much flight experience she was lacking. 

“Put yourself in that chair”, he pointed out. She quickly sat down and put her hands on her knees. 

She’s clearly not used to space travelling, he mused . A real planetary brat.

The ship's motors started roaring to life. Moments later, the ship took off, and Miko was pressed against the back of the seat. She had a hard time taking in what was happening, but was finally feeling relieved to see the stars. It gave her some hope that this nightmare could be over soon.

Hux turned to her: “we’re going to jump into hyperspace as soon as possible. I’m setting up the hyperdrive, can you give in the coördinates?” he asked her. 

“Where?” she replied, absolutely willing to help to get out of there as fast as possible. 

“at 3h” he responded. 

Who the hell talks in hours? She wondered, reminding herself she picked him up on a military base after all. She sighed and closed her eyes for a second,  in an attempt to find some inner peace.

First, he treats me like kriffing trash, he doesn’t believe I can slice the system, then he drags me into this ship with a fucking blaster pointed at my back, and now I have to know how a shuttle works? This man is giving me grey hairs! She thought instead, frustration starting to grow. 

She found the hyperspace panel and started looking through the pre-filled values. “Anywhere?” she asked, turning back to him. 

“Would you just choose something already?” he shouted back. “Why are you shouting, I can hear you when you talk, sir whatever!” she responded angrily, pressing the confirmation button. If he’s going to treat me like this - again - he’s not going anywhere! She stubbornly thought.

“By the sarlacc pits, they locked on us!” Hux shouted, while the shuttle was violently shaken. Miko closely held onto the chair behind her and momentarily closed her eyes. When the shaking stopped, she remembered his words. “By the sarlacc pits”, who says that anyway? She wondered. This guy is a kriffing relic. A next shake threw her out of her train of thoughts again and made her focus on the present.

  “The coordinates are ready!” Miko called back. Hux pulled the hyperdrive gear, the stars quickly changing into blue lines. 

“Phuh, that was friggin close!” Miko sighed, letting herself fall into the co-pilot’s chair. 

“We’re not out of this yet” Hux said while glaring at her from the side. “Prepare to jump back” he added. 

“But… no! I don’t want to go back! Why should I…” she argued. 

“Just do it already!” he angrily shouted. 

She hesitantly went over to the controls again, but at that exact moment, they were pulled out of hyperspace, reaching their destination. She looked out of the cockpit’s window, staring into empty space. Hux started turning the ship around. 

Right at that time, a squadron of first order TIE-fighters appeared from hyperspace. 

Hux cursed inwardly. The squadron opened fire and hit the shuttle a few times, giving Miko a hard time to stand. Red warning lights blinked on the right control board and if Miko wasn't panicking yet, this would certainly do the trick. The TIE's turned and a second salvo followed. Hux did his best to avoid the little buggers, but he was no trained pilot, unlike their current opponents. 

Their shields held back most of the shots, but some hits got through, making alarms go off all over the shuttle’s cockpit. 

“Wha…. They can jump through hyperspace? And they are tracking us?” Miko whispered, taken aback. 

“Put in some coordinates, now!” Hux shouted towards her. “O-okay!” she whispered in confusion. She quickly pressed the control and entered one of the preprogrammed destinations. The shuttle took another jump to the designated coordinates. While in hyperspace, he turned towards her and stood up straight. He righted his back and looked down to her with a menacing glare. His hair was slightly tossed up from angrily turning back and forth between looking at her and at the navigation panels. 

“Now, listen carefully this time. Once we arrive, jump back to the place we just came from, and then directly jump back to the Steadfast . Once there, we’ll jump again to a random spot, and so on. At least four times. And this time, do it, without hesitation!” He shouted, pointing his finger at her. 

You can’t just throw orders at me like that! She angrily thought, frustration growing and her head getting furiously red. She stood up, trying to face him on a more even level, and replied: 'I'm trying to get out of this hellhole as well, you don't need to shout at me!' She knocked away his hand and turned around. She could feel the frustration radiating from him as well; she could hear him breathe heavily and gritting his teeth. 

Miko took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She did realise he clearly knew more about this tracking mechanism, so her best chance to survive was to listen to that self-righteous idiot.

The moment the shuttle jumped out of hyperspace, they immediately jumped back to their previous location. At her right side, she saw a flash of one of the TIE-fighters landing at their location, just before the next jump was executed. She swiftly gave in the coordinates of the Steadfast’s location. “Ready!” she shouted in Hux's direction.

The third jump took them only seconds, this time no pursuing ship was seen. Another alarm was sounding and she saw Hux gritting his teeth and adding extra pressure on the steering handles. They came out of hyperspace right before the Steadfast. Miko was still entering the next coordinates.  "Hurry up! They've spotted us!", she heard him shout, while she finished the procedure.  "Done!" She exclaimed, at which Hux immediately reacted, initiating the fourth jump. 

The required fifth and sixth jump followed, and to be absolutely certain about losing their pursuers, they did another few. 

The duo arrived somewhere before a nebula, at the edge of the unknown regions. Miko was completely worked up, but the sight before her made all the tension in her body disappear. She was marvelled by the sight of the clustered stars and dusty space clouds. She had never been in outer space, and this was the first time she could actually pay attention to its beauty. For a moment, she forgot that she was in a first order ship together with some easily angered, high-minded and conceited officer. She forgot about the alarm wailing on her right side. 

“We should debate a strategy” she heard from her back, pulling her mind back into reality. Hux sat in the pilot’s seat and turned his gaze towards her. He waved his hair back in shape. He still looked like he was angry at her, but it seemed like he had found his composure again.

He stepped over to her side, checking where the alarm came from. The next thing she heard were his fists landing on the lower control panel. “This is unthinkable! The navigation unit was hit. I can’t access any of the preprogrammed coordinates any more!” he waved his hands out of anger and stepped to the other side. 

“I’ll check it out,” Miko replied quickly, willing to help. She felt a bit guilty for not following his orders. It's because of that, they were in this mess after all. 

She thought she could hear him let out a frustrated growl while he passed the spot she was standing in.

Her droid friend appeared out of her jacket again and crawled over to the data port, looking at the damage as well. Hux sat down and pressed his fingers to his forehead. He let out a long sigh. 

“The board is fried, there’s nothing I can do… it's already a miracle we could perform those last jumps. It must’ve been fried right after." Miko brought her hand to her chin. "Maybe I can check if you have access to the HoloNet on this ship, so I can look for a place to go? We can still use the direct input with coordinates,” she suggested. He didn’t look up. “That’s no option. You’ll give away our position if you do so” he responded.

 “I can put up a proxy…” she started replying, the corners of her mouth curling upwards. Her droid came to sit on her shoulder, ready to help her out. 

“They will still find a trace, trust me. I know what my men are capable of” he interrupted. He absentmindedly scratched his hair.

“From what just happened, I don’t think they’re your men any more...” Miko muttered inwardly.

Hux stood up, gave her a menacing glare, and walked out of the cockpit, leaving her there on her own.  

Great. I can add hard-headed to the list , she sighed.

Hux was losing it. He was just shot twice, left for dead but apparently saved by a naïve girl with authority issues and possibly with force powers. He didn’t know which part was worse. 

Now he was stuck in a shuttle with limited resources, having nowhere to go. He just lost everything he worked, lived and stood for. And there was no way to get it back. The only thing left was his resentment. 

First Ren, and now Pryde. They took everything from him. His life's work went up in smoke, just like Starkiller base.

If there’s anything he was still willing to achieve, it was orchestrating their demise. 

But he was practically powerless now. There wasn’t a way to get into the first order again, wasn't there.... 

He paced around in the small central wardroom, rubbed his face and tried to weigh his options.  Going back to Arkanis and using his family name could work to a certain degree, but even if he could convince the cadets on Arkanis, he had no chance against the both of them. He was the spy after all. Come to think of it, he had made sure the cadets knew how to deal with traitors. A cold shiver ran through his spine, remembering how effective and cruel his orders were towards them. No, Arkanis wasn’t an option. 

He couldn't think of any other option within his connections within the First Order. The chance was too high that they would side with either Ren or Pryde. 

But what other option is left?

Hmm. maybe the enemy of my enemy, can become my ally. If only for getting to Ren and Pryde, I’m willing to switch sides. For now. And when the opportunity presents itself, I’ll take back what’s mine. 

He stood still. If that defected trooper FN-2187 and Dameron were still alive, he might have a chance. He saved their sorry lives after all. But how to find and contact them… and first, how to get out of here...

He sat down at the table in the wardroom and thought about his options. They were stranded and they only had the navigation history of the jumps they just did, before the navigation memory unit was wiped. From what he recalled, none of them were nearby an inhabitable planet. On the other hand, it’s not like he had time to check the surroundings, so maybe they could give it a try and jump back. They have to wait for a few days to use those coordinates anyway, to avoid getting caught. 

The fuzzy hairball came in. Right, I almost forgot about her. He rolled his eyes. He realized he had no idea if there were enough provisions for one, let alone for two people. He should check that first, to be able to estimate if this was the time to get rid of her. 

She stood before him with her arms crossed and started talking: “It seems the hyperdrive got a hit too, PC is looking into it. He said we can’t use it at full speed.” 

He sighed. Another setback . He felt a cold rush climbing up his spine. How did he end up in such a sightless situation? He hated the feeling of not being in control. 

She came to sit down on the bench in front of him, and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “How did they track us through hyperspace and how did we just manage to escape?” she hesitantly asked, looking at his face like he was fishy. 

He sighed again, sat back and started explaining. He had other things to do, but he felt that explaining how superior his research division was, could at least brighten his mood a bit. 

“It's a First Order standard procedure to lock on any hyperspace trace their sensors catch. The fighters do the same.” He leaned forward as well, looking her in the eyes. He made notice on how her amber irises slightly dilated when he locked his gaze on them. Good, I have her full attention .  “We developed active hyperspace tracking, it’s very effective in pursuing targets. But if you travel backwards, you make use of that same path, making your backward jumps nearly untraceable. The technology can do some extrapolations, that’s why we had to jump the whole trip back to the Steadfast and then further on. Once they found out what we were doing, we did more than enough extra jumps to lose them.” He put up a wry smile, self-content his plan worked. It was one of his theories after all, but it wasn't tested before. 

But then he was reminded of his current situation. “Too bad we can’t travel anywhere now”, he grumbled. 

“We can travel to my place if you want?” the girl responded, cocking her head to one side. He looked up, a very sceptical look on his face. ”Your home planet? And how are we supposed to do that? The navigation is fried, did you forget?” he said, clenching his fists under the table. She's definitely not the brightest , he thought, again. He was starting to feel annoyed for the fourth time in a row now. He could feel that the combination of her presence and the recent turn of events were slowly making him lose his otherwise unbreakable self-control. 

She crossed her arms, leaned back and stated: “I know the coordinates by heart”.  

What? Who in the whole galaxy knows coordinates by heart? It’s a 48 long digit code! Hux thought, not believing her one bit.

“Are you serious?” he said, more like a statement. He couldn't take her seriously, and this definitely was not the time nor the place to mess with him.  

“Of course! One should always know how to find their way home!” she happily responded, a smart smile on her face. 

Hah, that’s funny, he thought: “You never left the planet” he dryly stated. 

“S-So what?” she responded, slightly pouting and blushing, probably feeling caught. His assumption was correct, it appeared. But still, knowing such a code by heart? That would be very unlikely.  “Why would you learn such a long code by heart if you’re never even going to use it?” he said, disbelief in his voice.  

“We can use it right now, can’t we?” she immediately countered, leaning her head backwards and starting to raise her voice again. It seems that he was not the only one who wasn't in a good mood around here. Her behaviour wasn't helping Hux to keep his calm at all. 

"Then let's hope you don't make a mistake so we don't crash into a sun, for example." He replied, the tone of his voice increasing. 

"Since the fragging hyperdrive is only working at a fraction of its speed, we don't have to worry about that, right?" she threw back at him, almost shouting.

He sat back again, breathed through his nose and tried to control the rising anger. He let out another exaggerated sigh. This girl was going to make him lose his cool sooner or later. This was worse than staying with Ren in one shuttle.

The little droid tripped from the cockpit onto the girl's seat, eventually settling down on her shoulder. 

The girl broke the loaded silence first and tried to make some progress on the plan. “Okay, suppose if we go there, what are we going to do?” she asked him. “I don’t want to get my people involved in your personal vendetta,” she added. 

How can she know about that? Is it that obvious? Hux wondered, feeling surprised and even more annoyed because he apparently couldn't hide his motives from this girl he had never met before. 

He huffed. 

“I’m planning to turn myself in with the resistance” He stated. “I have valuable information that can bring down the leaders of the first order, in exchange for my immunity.” 

She looked at him, turning one eyebrow up. “And you think they will just let you walk in there?” she responded.  

“I have been providing them with information the last months, and 2 of the resistance's key figures know about my identity. I’ll take my chances if I can get Ren and Pryde to pay.” He said, not able to hide his disdain for both. 

He cursed inwardly. He wasn’t the type to play hero, he usually let other people do the dirty work for him. But now he was practically alone, only this girl was here, but she won’t be of much help anyway. He had to do this on his own, and this was the only plan he could come up with. It could work, but it was risky and he didn’t like it.

“I think I can get us into contact with a resistance faction if we’re at my place” the girl said, holding a finger on her lips and looking back to the cockpit. Her droid was following her movements. “I’ll put in the coordinates!” she said and stood up. 

“Hey, you can’t just decide on your own!” Hux shouted back at her, but she already closed the door to the cockpit. 

This girl was going to be the death of him. 

And how did she lose those handcuffs?

Chapter 3 - escape from the psychopath (I)

Armitage Hux went back to the cockpit, seeing the girl bowing down over the panel, putting in the digits. “Apparently, it’s going to take us 28 hours to get there, due to the hyperdrive malfunction” she mumbled. The little droid was walking over the cockpit’s dashboard, keeping an eye on Hux. 

She turned around, scanning him from head to toe with a questionable look on her face. 

What’s her problem now? He thought, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. 

“Let me see that wound.” she said, walking straight to him.

He jumped back. No way he was going to let her come that close. 

“I’ll have a look myself!” he hissed. He pulled his uniform straight, as if he could remove the damage by adjusting it, and quickly stepped out of the cockpit, head high to keep up appearances.  He then marched through the wardroom and into the private quarters, locking the door. 

He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding,  wondering in the back of his mind what had actually just happened. 

Armitage carefully pulled off his uniform and the blaster-repulsive vest he was wearing underneath. It was pierced, as was expected from such a close shot. He was right to wear it that day; he knew the chance of being shot sooner or later was growing more and more realistic. It was the risk he knew he was taking, by leaking information, after all. 

On his stomach, right where the shot landed, he found new scar tissue, but it was way too shallow for such a blast. So it is true, she somehow stopped the impact from the blast. It must’ve happened that instant Pryde took the shot. But why? At that moment, she could not possibly know that I could get her out of there.  

He was puzzled. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t even know her name. And she looked pretty oblivious from who he was. How that's even possible, he couldn’t understand. 

And it utterly annoyed him.

Hux found 2 bacta patches in the first aid kit and applied them on his chest and upper left leg. The bleeding of his leg was still not entirely stopped and now that the adrenaline wasn’t subduing his pain receptors any more, he started to feel the continuous tingle of the burn. 

His thoughts automatically went back to the moment he regained consciousness in one of the many halls of the Steadfast . Only now, it seemed to seep through how the girl had been way too close to him. Physical contact has always made him cringe and there has been more of said contact than he has had in a very long time. 

All what had happened the last hours on that ship was catastrophic, and it all could be summarised to him losing control.  Losing control over his carefully laid out plan, his precious army and his own body. Feelings of resentment, hate, disgust and spite rose in his chest like a tidal wave.

He rubbed his face, trying to concentrate on the tasks at hand. He hoped the wounds would heal soon with the help of the patches, because he was starting to feel worn out already. He knew his body could take the damage, history proved that already. But he also knew its limits and the effects of blood loss, which were already making him feel light in the head.

He then took one of his spare uniforms from the wardrobe and decided to get back to the wardroom. He had to find out as much as possible about that girl and her home planet. He needed to know in advance what his options were.

Oh, and he should still check the rations.

Did he just flee away when I was trying to help him? Miko was perplexed. His behaviour didn’t really add up to what she observed during their escape. He was so full of himself before, and now he got out of here like he was scared of me helping him out... 

She went to look for the officer, but he locked himself up in what she assumed was the bedroom of the ship. She then started wandering around, to explore the shuttle a bit. 

Great. If that’s the bedroom, there’s only one. She let out a huff. It’s his private shuttle after all. How was she going to get through the next 28 hours?

She heard the door open and saw him step out of the room, wearing an immaculate uniform. He must’ve changed just now, she mused. He’s really keen on his appearance, it seems. What a kriffing self centered jerk. He sat down on the bench again and started tapping his fingers on the table, which slightly worked on her already overworked nerves. 

“What’s your name?” he asked bluntly. 

Oh, we didn’t introduce ourselves yet, that’s right!  

She realised, welcoming the conversation despite his uninviting tone. ‘I’m Miko Ylena, engineer at Tagge Industries, communication division on Utapau Four. So that’s where we’re heading.” She casually swinged her hand to the cockpit, stepped closer and went to sit down, too. PC walked from her shoulder onto the table.

“Hmm… that’s a first order plant, if I recall correctly?” he wondered. 

She replied: “In theory, yes. It’s been a family business and from what I understood, nothing has changed much over the years. First,  there was the empire, now, the first order. There is a garrison stationed to oversee the production, but Henry Tagge’s still waving the scepter. Which is a good thing for us, for now. If we do our jobs well and without too much hassle, we get paid enough to come by.” 

She looked at her gloved hands. She was still wearing part of her working gear. Somehow, someone had overpowered and drugged her on the way back home. She remembered some hooded individuals, but that's all. 

PC walked up to her again, as if the little droid felt her slight distress, and went to sit between her arms.

“We’ll have to lay low so those troops don’t spot me.” Hux said. 

She looked at him, quizzical. Her mind has been working overtime, she was full of nerves and definitely not thinking straight. 

“Why? Is your hair color that rare?” she blurted out, sporting a sly smile while thinking back. He did stand out in the crowd. She remembered that ginger hair as the first thing she had noticed, when she first saw him on the bridge of the Steadfast .

But at that same moment, she already felt bad for saying it. The officer closed his eyes and was audibly biting his teeth after hearing her reaction. Woops. He must’ve misinterpreted me… she realised. It seemed like reacting assertively was a way for her to cope with the stress of the situation, and maybe she shouldn’t have started smiling. It didn't seem to land well with him at all. 

On the other hand, why should she care? It’s not like he had been friendly with her. He ordered her around like she was a subordinate of him, and it was continuously besting her tolerance level towards him. She just wanted to get him out of her life as soon as possible, before one of them did or say something they might regret. 

What did she just say?

“What does my hair color have to do with this at all?”  Hux requested, annoyed. He felt his anger level rising again. “Do you even know who I am?” he added.

“No. Some officer that was shot because he was a traitor?” she casually answered, like it was nothing. She wasn’t looking him in the face, and he could only interpret this as defiance. He started fuming. Seriously? She even works in a first order alleged company and doesn’t know about me?  

“Don’t you know anything about the commanders of the first order?” he questioned with a lower voice. 

“nope, I’m not interested in politics” she replied casually, while she was inspecting her gloves, as if this conversation was of no importance.

What? Not interested in politics? How can she say that with such impudence? 

“Wh… “ he started his rhetoric, but apparently she didn't notice that he was going to reply, and she unintentionally interrupted him: “I never paid attention to those topics in the academy, it’s not like I have any say in it. And it's manipulated shit anyway. It's a former imperial academy after all. ” She crossed her arms and leaned back. “Why do you ask?” she added. 

Hux mind short circuited. “How can you know your planet’s coordinates by heart, but not know who I am?” He was baffled, and she still looked unimpressed. What’s with this girl? 

Under normal circumstances, people were either scared or cautious towards him. At least, for the last 15 years that is. This was a new experience for him and it didn't sit well.

“I’m General Armitage Hux, commander of the First Order army. I lead the training programme of the first order troopers as well as the R&D department. My research team developed technologies such as the active hyperspace tracking you just witnessed. I oversaw the construction of Starkiller base." 

He stopped right there, he wasn’t going to let her know he played a major role in the destruction of the new republic and their pitiful resistance. He needed her to believe he was worth something for the resistance, alive.  

”I was running for Grand Marshall,  becoming the most powerful person in the whole first order,  next to the supreme leader." he stated, pressing his index finger on the table to make his point. He was feeling a bit better hearing himself say those things. Especially after all that had happened these last hours.

She was still looking at him with that sceptical look. She took a breath, then paused for a second. In the meantime, that droid of her climbed back to his usual spot on her shoulder. “Should I be taken aback or just be disgusted?” she replied, crossing her arms. 

What?  

“Either way, do you know what they were planning to do with me?” she interrupted, trying to change the subject. 

Hux was sitting there, not knowing what to do and not really registering her request. How can she just change the subject and react like that? She just keeps addressing me like I’m some unimportant individual that just happened to be on her way… and why ‘disgusted’ anyway? He thought. He was still watching her like he didn’t know what to do with her. 

She broke the silence: “Look, general Hux, I don’t want to have anything to do with this. I never asked to be abducted. I was bored, but not that bored. So I’m going to drop you off at Utapau Four and point you to my connection. From then on, I’m going back to my boring life and you can do whatever the shit you want to.”

This girl is unbelievable, he inwardly sighed.   

“You do realize that you can’t just go back to your old life. The First Order just picked you up from there.” he said with a low voice. She replied angrily: “You mean they abducted me. They stunned me for fuck sake!” 

Why is she always swearing? He was starting to get seriously annoyed yet again. This girl is really going to bring out the worst of me . 

He breathed through his nose and thought back to her initial question, changing the subject back before both of them started shouting again. 

“From what I can deduce, they were testing if you were force sensitive. I have no intel on who requested this test and why it was carried out.” 

Actually, wasn’t he going to keep quiet about this? Again an example on how she's somehow indirectly messing with me , he realized. He cursed inwardly. Why couldn’t he be more of his manipulative self?

Miko responded: “Me? Force sensitive? What a joke! I should at least know by myself, then, right?” she said with a laughing voice. She was now leaning backwards even more, making him wonder if she was going to slide off from the seat soon and fall on the deck. That would teach her from behaving so... uncivilized , he amusingly thought. 

Hux wanted to call her out on her demeanor, just to get all the frustrations out of his system, but he refrained himself from doing so.

“Was a blood monster taken from you recently?” He asked instead.  

The girl looked at her droid, which looked back in return, as if the thing would know better. “Not very recently, a few years ago. It’s standard procedure to see if we don’t get polluted by the iridium.” she mentioned. 

“It’s feasible that those results were picked up by someone within the order.” Hux reasoned. He knew he had approved an order to build an automatic system to upload and interpret blood samples before. About 13 years ago, he himself had the directive to exterminate any force sensitive beings he could discover within the ranks, but that was under Snoke’s reign. This reeked of something different.

 It was highly possible that this system was still operational and reused for other purposes, unbeknownst to him.

“That guy, the one that shot you, acted like he was doing a routine job," she mentioned, “to lock me up for transport, as usual”.” she added, while mimicking the allegiant general.  

Hux shivered unwillingly when hearing Pryde’s reference, sentences full of elaborate insults addressed to the other general already forming up in his head. He subdued the urge to let them all out and tried to concentrate on what really could have been happening.

Hmm… if Pryde’s involved with force users, and Ren never mentioned it in the supreme board meetings, I can assume that Ren is not aware of this with a high probability. Is this some plan from that supposedly resurrected Emperor to use these force sensitives for his own good? Or maybe just kill them to get rid of the competitors? He didn’t like the first scenario one bit. Honestly,  he'd prefer the second one much more and finally get rid of those freaks. 

But first, he had to make sure this particular freak could be put to some good use.

He looked up again, seeing her questioning eyes directed back at him. They seemed almost yellow due to the soft light in the wardroom. They made him feel uncomfortable, as if they were piercing through his image and looking to read his mind. The fact that she was a possible force sensitive, didn’t help at all.

“I have no clue” he lied. 

This information might come in handy, but for now I need to keep her in the dark as much as possible, he mused. 

She didn’t seem to be happy with his answer, but she let it slide.

“What should I do then?” she asked him, as if he was the source of her problems. 

He hadn’t thought about her situation at all, it's not like he cared anyway. But maybe, if she was perceptive to his suggestions, there was something to gain for him as well. She did prove to be a relatively good slicer and that inventive little droid of hers was also on his radar. 

“Since the First Order might still be on the lookout for you, your best option is to disappear or try to join the resistance.” He reasoned. 

“But I can’t just leave my father and friends behind!” She half-shouted. 

“You do realise that if you stay, you’ll just be killed and probably kill them in the process” he coldly reacted. She’s not only stubborn, she’s also short sighted. This is going to be a very long trip, he thought again.   

He stood up and righted his back. 

“I’m going to retreat and take some sleep. We should discuss tactics afterwards.” he concluded. He went to his chambers and closed the door.

Some trivia!

Tagge industries: The Tagge family is a famous family throughout the whole saga (legacy and new), but I made up Henry. He's the only one with a normal name and he's probably the only moderate Tagge family member out there... he's a bit of an outcast 😂

Utapau Four: one of the 9 moons of Utapau. There are moons in canon, but I made up the whole moon's population and geography and so on.

Chapter 3 - escape from the psychopath (II)

Did he just leave me here, just like that?

Miko let out an annoyed sigh. She was exhausted, but the thrill of recent events was still raging through her body. She noticed that she had been reacting very assertively to everything, but then again, it’s not like she was ever abducted, tested upon, jumping through hyperspace and stuck on a ship. 

And accidentally saving the biggest prick in the galaxy in the process. From the grave he had dug for himself, no less.

She started wandering around the wardroom, finding out what was where, thinking which spot could serve best for taking a nap. They still had a long way ahead of them, after all. 

She found weapons, and the pantry as well. She dug through it, took something to eat and lay down on the bench. 

Her droid walked from her shoulder onto her stomach, turned around to watch her and sat down. 

At least the bench was long enough for her to lay straight. Or I am short enough, she mused. 

Back home, she was always the largest of her friends. The inhabitants of Utapau Four were shorter than the average human-like races. They originated from the Arkanian offshoot a very long time ago, bred for mining labor. Due to gravitational differences on the fourth moon of Utapau, before it was completely terraformed, their race evolved this way. She was a bit of an exception though, because of her mother’s genetic material, which was Corellian. 

She stared at the durasteel ceiling. If Utapau Four was no option for her any more, maybe she could travel to Corellia, to see where her mother grew up. Surely she could start a new life there, out of the frigging Worst Order's prying eyes.

Or maybe not. 

She didn’t know much about her mother’s past. The only memories she had, didn’t tell anything about who her mother used to be, before Miko was born. And her father was avoiding the conversation for years now.

I have to ask him one last time, before I leave. Maybe ask him about this crazy abduction as well. Some of his resistance friends might've heard something about it. It’s too suspicious. 

Kriff, am I really going to leave them?

The thought of having to say goodbye to her only family left, felt heavy on her chest. She never left the substitute planet, and maybe now, so suddenly, it was for good. This whole situation was still unreal and unsettling. 

She finally felt the fatigue taking over, having a hard time keeping her eyelids open. 

‘Hey PC, keep an eye on me while I fall asleep, will you?’ She requested her droid with a hoarse voice. The droid hummed positively as a response. She didn’t feel comfortable around that general, so she felt glad having her droid around as a bodyguard. The little droid looked up and then placed itself back on her stomach, while she slowly drifted away.

About 6 hours later.

Why is there trash on the table? Hux wondered. 

He just had given up on taking some rest, the recent incidents haunting his brain and ripping him out of his slumber again and again. 

He just did a few steps outside his cabin, and his blood pressure was already rising to the same agitated level as before he left for a break. 

He went further and opened the pantry, only to find that things were not in their initial place. 

He looked at the girl sleeping on the couch, striking lightning with his eyes. 

How could she make a mess of everything so fast? And not clean it up afterwards? He bristled and started to put everything back into place, his movements harsh. 

When he was done with the cupboard, he placed the jars on the counter to the exact spot they belonged, according to him. 

It took him quite some time, since the compartiment was slightly different from the one in his quarters on the Finalizer. But once everything was back in order, he felt his calm returning. 

If she ever does that again… he started thinking, clenching his hands tight. Stars, why was he so easily provoked?

Right at that moment, he heard giggling from behind his back. He turned around, only to find Miko silently chuckling. Her hair was even messier than before and her eyes were still foggy from napping. Combined with her snickering sounds, it made her look like she was drunk or high. Her little droid was nowhere to be seen. 

He turned his head down and closed his eyes for a minute. 

“Are you mocking me?” he asked with a dangerously low voice. 

“How can you focus on something like that? Aren’t you like - a general - busy with much more important things than how your stuff is put?” she said, obviously finding the whole situation funny, although there was a certain sharp edge to her words. 

Did she just taunt me even more? 

Insolent brat, he thought.

Anger started boiling up again quickly, since he hadn’t entirely calmed down from their encounter before. The girl seemed to cope with stress in a very annoying way. Or maybe she's always like that, he wondered in disdain. 

I should definitely get rid of her as soon as possible, he decided. The fact that she took a ration unbeknownst to him and moreover without permission, wasn’t working in her favor either. 

“Shouldn’t you focus on our escape plan or something, instead of combing your hair?” she added, letting out a snicker and rolling her eyes. 

He did wash up and combed his hair like he usually does when he starts the day cycle. It’s part of my status as an officer in a leading position, how could she just laugh that away?  

He started fuming. He had already realised he couldn’t treat her like a subordinate; his usual set of verbal threats were useless against her. And for a fraction of time, he didn’t know how to handle her. 

The idea only added fuel to the fire.

He suddenly hit both fists on the table before her, too enraged to be surprised by his own reaction. “Do not mock me! You shouldn’t stick your rude nose in someone else’s business!” he shouted, losing his cool but barely even noticing it. If she was a subordinate of him, or any other crewmember part of his flagship, he had her locked away already. And then put her on rehabilitation duty. Let the indoctrination programme prove its success. Such misbehaviour should be dealt with accordingly. But now, he had to use other means to put her in her place. If she wanted to argue, she was going to regret this, he angrily thought.

“I’m stuck in this ship as much as you are, so it’s my business too! You need to get your priorities straight” she shouted back at him. Her facial expression shifted from laughter to rage in a mere second. Her eyes were slightly wet, as if she was on the brink of tears.

Priorities straight? Does she even know what she’s saying? He felt like he was going to explode. 

“And oh, excuse me if I disturb your unreasonable need for order! Why are you even still wearing that uncomfortable uniform, if you haven’t noticed it yet, you’re not a general any more!” she added, volume rising.  

“Shut your mouth, you’re being blatantly foolish! You can’t possibly understand this! You didn’t even have any clue why you were abducted!" he threw back at her, "You were just going to go back to your pitiful old life, like nothing happened!” 

She was going to push him over the edge, make him lose his self-control and she was going to regret it.

Miko stood up and angrily faced him. He was still leaning over the table, so they were able to look straight into each other's eyes. 

“At least I had a life! You seem like you dug a big hole for yourself, that other guy got you hard there! And all you care about now is your appearance. Wake up, there’s no one to impress here!” she ostentatiously swinged her hands around, pointing to the empty space. 

“At least I have an impeccable appearance, you look like you haven’t washed for days, and what’s with those piercings anyway? I’m surprised you’re allowed to walk around with that at Tagge’s department! If it was under my supervision, this wasn’t tolerated!” he yelled, and she immediately yelled back: “It’s what they call style, mister general! But maybe someone of your age is not aware of that!”

“Are you calling me old?” She’s really going too far now, he thought somewhere in the back of his mind, too clouded by rage. His blood kept racing through his veins and each word that came out of her mouth only increased the pressure. 

This argument made no sense at all, the insults they threw at each other were downright pathetic, but he was too far gone and too hyped on the adrenaline of the past events to think clearly.

“Yes. And pale." She added, her face getting red from keeping up the volume with his shouting. "Have you seen any sunlight in the last decade? Lucky your hair stands out a bit, otherwise you’d really be mistaken for a corpse. If we land on my moon, make sure you won’t get sunburnt!” 

Did she really mock my hair? Again? 

Hux snapped. 

He instinctively and viciously reached out to her throat with his right gloved hand. He took her neck in a tight grip, starting to strangle her. The leather of his glove was making a scratching sound from the pressure he applied, which matched his angry breathing. 

He looked down at her reddened face with furious eyes. Her amber tinted irises were starting to change size, her expression going from angry and surprised to alarmed. It gave him cold chills, which provided him with an odd sense of satisfaction, somewhere deep beneath the raging anger.

She frantically grabbed his arm with both her hands and tried to shout, but only a feeble squeak came out. 

Silencing her felt good, very very satisfying, after all the recent tension buildup. This is what she gets from driving me mad, he thought, still so angry with her behaviour towards him. He wasn't sure if and when he would let her go, he was too far gone to think clearly now. 

She started to violently shake his arm and began to writhe with her legs, trying to get some grip so she could get loose. But he was towering over her, too strong and too enraged. 

She was harshly pressed against the backrest of the bench, Hux had stepped aside to discard the table and was now leaning over her. There was no escape from his pressing hand, and he could feel her throat moving, trying to swallow or maybe gag as a reflex to get her airtube clear.

His rough anger turned into a smoldering rage when the fire from her eyes was starting to fade and was turning into a desperate plea. Her leg movement slowed down until they fell limp. He could see her lips moving, begging for her release, but no sound came out. 

And then he felt something else than anger surging through his body. At this very moment he felt in total control. Oh, he missed that feeling. He took in the sensation like an addict finally experiencing the long-denied rush again. He could do literally anything to her, the way she crumbled under his grip. Anything. And the lower part of his body started thinking about doing something to her.

PC came out of nowhere. The tiny droid quickly jumped on his outstretched arm, instantly threatening Hux to give him a power surge.

Hux looked down to the suddenly menacing droid and snapped out of his trance. He abruptly loosened his grip, violently shook the droid from his arm, looked back at Miko with a bewildered look and stumbled back unceremoniously. 

The girl lay scrambled on the bench, touching her violated throat and heaving heavily to catch her breath. She turned to face him with squinted eyes.

Their gaze locked and instantly Hux was hit by a wave of cold sweat, the intensity of the amber made him breathe erratically. 

After a slight hesitation, he quickly turned around and stomped back to his cabin. He shut the door the second he entered. 

What the hell was that? He hastily wondered, trying to control his raging heartbeat. He rubbed his face, removing the sweat from his forehead.

He looked down. This has never happened before. He has always been in control of himself, he never lost his cool like this. He was the one who could drive another person insane, this was the first time it was the other way around. Well, at least after his father was removed. 

And in what way… What had just happened to him? I was always stronger than this. Was I going to murder her, out of rage, or… rape her?

He made sure the door was locked, took a glass of water and drank it down in one shot. He needed to stay inside, cool down, think about this incident and what to do next. 

I need a cold shower.

Chapter 4 - delicious disaster (I)

Miko coughed violently to catch her stolen breath. Her whole body was still shaking from the shock. She hadn't seen that outburst coming, but maybe she was too angered with his delusions of grandeur and stupid misplaced pride that were based on nothing but lies and evil deeds. She was so stressed and angered at him for leaving her out in the dark, it had clouded her mind. She hated how he was nitpicking on stupid details, as if this situation wasn't already hard enough for both of them. But, maybe if she thought this through, she should've known he was a psychopathic maniac. 

She never cared much for physical strength before, never needed it in particular because she was the tallest one at home anyway. Although Utapau Four was under First Order rule, Tagge's influence on the planet made sure she lived in a rather protected bubble. Consequently, she absolutely wasn't prepared for any kind of attack like this. 

She felt lucky she programmed her droid well.

She gently rubbed her sore throat. She could feel where the leather had left its marks. It already started stinging more, the moment she grazed her skin. This was going to bruise ugly.

She gulped. She decided she had to be extra careful with this man. He was definitely more dangerous than she anticipated. Maybe she should look into the armory again, to arm herself with something, anything, just in case. Not that she was able to shoot, but that won't matter if he came close to her. She hoped she wouldn’t hesitate too much.

Miko thought back to the moment he lunged at her and slowly started to feel confused. Something was bothering her, other than the fact that he tried to strangle her to death. His eyes went from pure rage to something else. When PC jumped on his arm, it was like he snapped out of some trance. When he did, he looked bewildered, confused, vulnerable?

But what bothered - scared - her even more, was that short moment before he let go of her neck. His grey-green eyes looked dark, glassy, and simmering hot. 

Kriff. What am I thinking? 

The cold water of the refresher was slowly calming Hux down. He tried to ignore what happened, but he knew the moment he was going to step out of his quarters, the situation was going to be very awkward. He should try to collect his messed up thoughts. 

That outburst reminded him too much about Ren, and he didn't like it one bit. This wasn't him, he should be above this. He has always been a master in self-control, since he's been in charge, up until now. 

And then, there was that other sensation he experienced, slowly creeping up on the skin of his back, giving him hot chills. 

He could feel his groin get itchy again, and turned the knob of the refresher to make the water even colder.

His mind involuntarily started drifting to the past. He hadn’t felt like this for a very long time. It’s not like he was immune to the hormonal reactions of his body, but getting the chance to actually profit from a situation and get his physical needs satisfied… that was another thing. 

There had been a few people he met when networking, trying to get to his money or get access to intel. He wasn’t stupid to give in to their feeble attempts. Fellow officers or even cadets had been trying to use him to get higher up in ranks. He disapproved of this behaviour, finding it utterly pathetic. Climbing up in the ranks and assuming a higher position should be done by knowledge, wits and politics. And, if necessary, by manipulation, but only if done well. Bribery in any form was something he had used as a tactic before, but never to get higher up. It always concurs with a significant backlash. There were always loose ends. 

Apart from that, he never was keen on the thought of having sex with a colleague itself, reminding him too much about what had happened in the past. A bed partner could’ve asked troublesome questions he rather wouldn’t like to answer. He unintentionally rubbed his stomach.

There had been a few times when he thought about getting his way though, unsurprisingly with people that were not part of the First Order. An escort on a diplomatic mission. The citizen that would've given him all, just to stop the military operation. That one feisty prisoner who had no respect for him. 

It seems he wanted to be the one choosing who he wanted to use, not being used himself. He was done with that. 

But eventually the situation never really lended itself for it. Although he made it to general, there was always someone above or beside him he had to report to. And his ambition and the future of the First Order were always a higher priority. 

But right now… he was alone, with a girl, all innocent and naive, on his ship, slowly travelling to possible hostile territory and they only had a few cards to play. He knew there was a significant chance that he wouldn’t survive much longer than a couple of days. 

And… she actually didn’t look that bad, he admitted to himself. She angered him utterly, but apparently that awoke an unexpected gnawing feeling in him. A kind of itch that needs to be stilled, or it would haunt him for the rest of his days. A sensation he tried to hide away for so long, but suddenly had broken free. 

The way her eyes shined like a blazing fire when she was mad at him or enthusiastic about who knows what, automatically popped into his mind. They were as strong as her idiotic will, passionate but also chaotic. All things he should despise, things he always despised in people, but, he didn’t want to admit it, they looked so attractive right now, like something he’s been missing for eternity. He wanted to get a taste of it. 

She was like a fire he wanted to contain just enough not to get it extinguished. 

Oh, and those hips. He suddenly remembered the way she stood in the cockpit, bending over the controls of the ship and checking out the issue on the navigation panel. He didn't feel how his fingernails were leaving marks in his palms.

He was completely lost in these disturbing thoughts, the cold recycled water still slowly streaming over his body. 

This was absolutely not the way he was supposed to be thinking to calm down.

Can I force myself onto her? He wondered. This might be my last chance to get this nonsensical physical need satisfied, without any consequences. There’s no career that I need to uphold this time. I could do whatever I want to her. 

He rubbed his face again, as if that would help him to start thinking straight. 

But is it a wise thing to do? Can I still manipulate her into helping me out on that moon of hers? It was her father she wanted to contact, if I recall correctly? 

Hux stared at the wall of the shower cabin for a few seconds. If that man knows his daughter well, he’ll most likely know something is up. 

He sighed and looked down, the water dripping from his hair, following the indents of his cheekbone, down to his chin then leaving his skin to fall to the sink. 

The risk was too big, and he was feeling like a coward again. But in the back of his mind, he was not sure if he could bring himself to not doing anything. 

He at least had to try, for his own sake, he wanted to convince himself.

Miko decided to camp in the cockpit’s seat. She had taken a blaster from the armory and had positioned it on top of her legs. PC placed himself next to the blaster. She was staring at the stars flashing by. Only a day ago, she loved the view, but now she felt a bit claustrophobic. There was nowhere she could go and hide from that asshole, the cold durasteel hull of the ship was now her confinement. She was disgusted by the First Order general’s assault, even if she probably provoked him. 

She was even more disgusted by what she thought afterwards, but she tried to ignore that particular train of thoughts, not wanting to go there again. 

He still lashed out at her like it was nothing, so he absolutely wasn’t to be trusted. She wouldn’t let him corner her again. She has always been in charge of her own persona and freedom, so in no way she was going to let him come close without her consent.

Am I ever going to grant him that? She couldn't help but wonder. 

Her head absolutely said no, but there was something nagging in the back of her mind. She never met a man like him. A kriffing self centered, merciless, fragging vain asshole, a breathing example of the Worst Order and every norm she despises. But when talking or shouting at him, she felt alive. It was good to get rid of the frustrations of the previous problematic events and if she was honest, in the life she led before; all of her friends back home were either too kind or too scared of her. This man was a challenge, and it was attracting her in every bad way there could be, she secretly admitted to herself. 

But, on the other hand, this probably could've happened with anyone she met outside of her home planet, she realised that much. The things that have occured the previous day, the adrenaline rush, and being locked up in the same cramped space together, probably have been influencing her, too. And then again, she never really met anyone taller than she was, which didn’t help either, but wasn't a particular reason to take an interest in him.

She knew she should stop thinking about things that never should happen anyway, and focus on what was coming ahead. 

What was she going to do? 

She stared into the stars, trying to collect her thoughts, but hopelessly failing.

[ceoofmetagala]

Hi! I wanted to leave this ask here regarding a few things I've noticed over time. First I want to say, I'm a big fan of your work. I really enjoy seeing your characters and the ship dynamics that you share with the Kirby community for Meta Knight and Galacta Knight. With this though, there was a recent post that raised a few concerns. You had mentioned your disgust for the galactadad tag since most people use it for tagging Galacta Knight as MK's father figure due to your main ship having them as lovers. I was a little worried based on your reaction to this as I'm sure you feel very strongly about this and I mean nothing but respect but... to say that people's work of this would be 'the worst art imaginable' simply because it doesn't align with your headcanons? It comes off as... emotionally immature to say you'd block people on that front alone rather than just accepting it as something existing in someone else's mind/world, and that you'd be "crying" about it. Like... there's a lot of amazing people here you'll be shutting the door on with no explanation other than them posting two characters as family instead of a couple. Again, no shade, but this did concern me as it felt a little over the top of a reaction. When something's not really a 'trigger' in the sense that it causes intense emotional harm, it's best to learn some sense of tolerance for minor things like this if you want to be more comfortable in online spaces; and you'll get to enjoy a lot more people's company as a result too. I mean that with nothing but love, but genuinely I almost unfollowed because of that visceral reaction on your end over something so minor. The other thing I wanted to address was just kind of a quick question; is there a particular reason you misspell every word when typing descriptions and tags? I'm not going to ask you to go into detail about this as of course it could be very personal/disability related, but this poses a problem in some regards, specifically when tagging censors and trigger warnings. This doesn't happen very often, but a few times you've reblogged or posted art that involved certain triggers, one of which was shown despite me having it blocked due to me not having it spelled exactly as your misspelling was. If it were a genuine misspelling I wouldn't be so upset because of course things happen, but every single post I've noticed you greatly misspell nearly every word to the extent it's almost illegible, so this is a common behavior of yours. All I'm really asking on this is that you please just take extra care when adding censor tags in the future, just a quick reread of them to make sure they'll function as intended. This also goes for if you have something important to say or tag as again, blocked tag/topics cannot autocorrect on our end. Like I said, I mean this with nothing but love and concern for your online interactions because I've been there myself with some of these things. I really don't want this to come off as negative, so please don't take this as an attack; I just wanted to address some things that I noticed in my time following you so that hopefully no future issues arise from them. Otherwise, keep having fun doing what you're doing and please take care. I'm excited to see more from you!

"emotionally immature" I'm 16 what the hell did you expect me to act like a whole adult?....did you forget one of the main stereotypes for teenagers is being emotional? Also this point was espiclly hurtful to me I know you probably don't know and didn't mean to but I have autsim (self diagnosed it took me . SO LONG to even consider this and even longer to accept I have tism) and it just. Came off like you were calling me stupid which you baislcy are it's also way more confusing to what I am to peoplw I am mature to some? Am I just childish WHAT AM I? But that's not really ur fault I've just wlays had my people pleasing tenadcies along with struggling to know who I am myself

Anyways on to all the points

-"worst art imaginable" not in a. Like the art is like technically bad(like bad at skill to draw. I can admit some are good or even AMAZING at drawing what they do) I mean in way to me in how it makes me feel way not that. Like how the art makes me FEEL. Not like if if look at it and they tell me based on skill what this i would do, it's good great even like the color! Or sosmthing stupid like that and if you ask me how it makes me feel I would do the same

-blocking people over just a hc or ship is fine I'm my eyes, it's the same as blocking someone over shipping metakirby or being a proshitter, proshitters think this was I think another at it's basic core soooo...im not saying they're proshitters however I'm just saying that to explain to you why I'm my opinion it's perfectly valid to blcok someone over a ship hc or bene fandom! It's that. They are NOWEHRE near as bad but it was the best example I could think of to explain why I do it.

If the hc or ship REALLY does make me TAHT uncomftbfle I think it's fair to block someone over it ?? I don't get this point at all like why would I actively make myself upset just for the chance to intrecat with some artist?

- also the usually amazing people I'm sure they nice and lovely they tend to post A LOT about it. So I block them to avoid them in the tags I don't tend to block as soon as I see meta to galactadad I just block when I see them too much

- anything can be a trigger over the slightest things I have a friend on Twitter who needs cookie run tagged because its genuilly a trigger for it same with another who hates kirby and eveurtime meow sees Kirby, he's filled with rage and it's for VERY good reason in my eyes and I am still great friends with meow regardless

-also I am making myself more comfortable 8n these spaces. I'm litterky curating my experience by blocking out what I don't like, they always say "block if you don't like" when it comes to ship or soemthin so like? Why not to hcs as well...i don't get this point I don't HAVE to like someone I can dislike someone for no reason right? So I can dislike an aspect of a person like that. Idk this point also doesn't make sense to me

- as for any particular reason, I just...do that? I have to PHYSICALLY force myself to type otherwise I don't know any cause it just started one day... Sorry about my rbs being intelligible I just ?? Get really excited and tend to forget to try to be atleast a bit normal(? Idk how to word that last part)

- as for trigger tags, I try my best to tag triggers properly but I don't know that I have to tag it for my audince or I don't think it's necessary I don't think I've ever misspled a trigger tag ? I have bad memory but I'll try my best to keep trigger tags spelled right

- and finally yeah I'll make sure to do that, i just need to know what tags you need well, tagged. I don't know who you are. You're anonymous?

[wsthproduction]

Weird Stuff That Happens statement of boundaries

Hello everyone. This is Sky, and I have something important to address. There's been a recent trend of independent creators setting standards for the fandom behavior they are comfortable with. While Weird Stuff That Happens doesn't have an "active Fanbase" at the time of writing, if you are interested in creating fanworks or other unofficial stuff for the series, this is a guide for how to appropriately approach the series. This post may be updated or changed as necessary.

Interactivity:

First and foremost: Make sure to read the Site FAQ for the content rules before leaving a message on WSTH.

The best ways to interact with WSTH are:

-Leave a comment on an article. You will need a Wix site login for moderation purposes, but you can comment on the site's articles. This is the most reliable way to hear from anyone other than Tom.

-Send a message over site chat. The fictional webmaster Tomtab is online at least once a day, and even if you don't hear from him immediately, it's a good idea to check back to see if he responded to you. Wix may ask for your email but you don't have to use one to use this feature.

-Email. Tom has a working email and if you message him with a question or longer comment he will reply to you.

-Tumblr. The WSTH in-charter account isn't super active, but Tom's ask box is open.

Reshare:

-Any artwork credited in universe to Tom Benedetto or Dr Susan Finch may be reused with credit as long as you are not monetizing or plagiarizing it. Feel free to make edits if you want as long as you credit back to Weird Stuff That Happens.

-Feel free to screenshot anything from correspondence with Tomtab, as long as you properly credit it back to Weird Stuff That Happens.

Social Media:

First and foremost, be respectful of all of the site's crew. Don't spam them, send inappropriate messages, or impersonate them. All of Weird Stuff That Happens social Media accounts are linked to under other websites. WSTH will not be joining Tik-Tok or Facebook at any point. If you find a WSTH account on either site that is not clearly labeled as a fan-page, notify me so they can be taken down.

Other websites:

With the exception of Davespid, the rest of the linked websites on WSTH belong to crew members and associates of the site. Be respectful on these websites and don't hound any of their webmasters.

Gamejacking:

WSTH is an elaborate role play game with a lot of pre-planning. Any deliberate attempt to derail the series plot, lore, or characters will not be tolerated.

Fanart:

Fanart is very encouraged and, as long as it's SFW, Feel free to tag the main series accounts on Tumblr and Instagram with your work.

Fanfiction:

I'm fine with written fanfiction as long as you follow the rest of the rules and don't try to pass it off as official. That being said, please do not try to send any of the crew fanfiction. I hate to be so blunt, but we just aren't going to read it.

NSFW:

This is awkward, but it needs to be addressed. The complete cast of WSTH is over 18, both the Fictional Characters and Actual Crew, but the work itself is intended for a PG-13 audience. NSFW fanworks are ok as long as you don't send it to us. We don't want to see it or hear about it. For the most part, we don't care if it's out there otherwise, but the fandom courtesy that you don't put it in the main tag is encouraged. That being said, there are exceptions to this that we all ask you to respect.

1. Pim. His performer isn't comfortable with NSFW fanworks of him being made so I will ask that you just don't. (Plus it's way OOC anyway, he's aro-ace.)

2. Keep it off the site. The site itself has a no NSFW rule to keep it closer to a general audience and anything NSFW will be taken down.

3. Don't make anything creepy or illegal. No NSFL fan stuff. No dead dove, grapefruit, extreme stuff. Keep it SSC please. None of that Pr0$hip bs, keep it away from my work.

Theories:

Speculation is deeply encouraged. The website has a lot of secrets and things unfolding. That being said, do not try to pass speculation as canon, as that gets into Gamejacking territory. Matpat types fuck off.

Fan Merchandise:

If you try to create your own WSTH merchandise I will do everything in my power to get it taken down. In general, an exception is given to specifically one-of-a-kind commission works, but otherwise, wait till I'm ready to make my own.

[theofficersacademy]

                                  Julius   Sophia   Julia   Tharja                                   Marianne   Nino   Phina   Felix                                  Sara   Eliwood   Ephidel   Hilda

TEAM TAG: #KEflood2023 BASE CAMP PROGRESS: 0%

Water... clear, aquamarine water as far as the eye can see. . .

The very tip of scattered buildings peek through, the only evidence that once there would have been earth underfoot. Stone arches covered in moss and algae and small trees form the occasional short walkway, though it soon becomes clear that your main mode of transportation will have to involve more than just a little swimming.

On the plus side, the bright sky overhead provides a balmy warmth, enough to dry off in short enough fashion. Mind you - that’s all you get. Night never seems to come, no matter how long it feels like you’ve been here.

Welp! Whatever the case, your first priority should probably be to finagle some manner of base camp, as well as rations, right?

Places of Interest

the “Chapel” - one of very few rooms not completely or partially submerged, though its stained glass windows have seen better days. It sits atop a black stone tower whose many levels reach to depths you can barely make out. . .

the Study - another space not submerged, albeit it clearly was at some point. All of the books here are waterlogged and illegible or in a language you can’t read. Also it seems some critters have beaten you to the punch and made nests of their own in this cozy (if potentially moldy) room.

the Abyss - a deep dark fissure visible near to your eventual base camp. How deep does it go? Deeper than you can currently manage, that’s for sure. (That said, if you were considering throwing a certain shell of a man into it, well... It’s so dark there isn’t much to see, you see...)

NPCs of Note

Blank - a hooded figure occasionally spied in the distance quietly rowing along in their scull. If approached, they are reticent to speak; they don’t remember much, after all, not even their own name and much less what happened to this place. They will, however, offer survival tips if prompted, such as the fact that the water here doesn’t need to be boiled before drinking. Yeah. Definitely doesn’t. For sure. For them, anyway. (YMMV)

Tasks

Setting up base camp - every 1 post = 1% of progress, capping at 20% - requires 1 plank or sheet of cloth per post

Scavenging/Foraging - Receive 1 random resource (plank of wood, sheet of cloth, bundle of herbs/edible (?) plants) per post

Diving  - every 1 post = 1d10 - roll of 1-3: roll 1d20. 1-19 grants 1d10 tokens -- ping Key for a nat 20  - roll of 4-7: roll 1d20. 1-19 grants 1d10 tokens - you get to meet some of The Flood’s locals! -- sometimes these are cute seals, otters, and so on - ping Key for a nat 20 - roll of 8-10: more locals! -- and sometimes they’re hungry, territorial creatures who’d rather fight you. -1HP to all in thread, but +1 resource (animal trimmings)

Fishing - receive 1 fish of varying size per post -- roll 1d5: 1&2= small, 3&4= medium, 5=large --- 30% chance of injury upon catching a large 

Hunting - receive 1 bird per post -- roll 1d5: 1-4= seagull size, 5=turkey size

PLEASE READ BELOW FOR ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

What to Expect

Unlike recent lore events, Keras Kai Elephas will be mostly in the hands of the players. There will be a series of tasks in need of completing each week, but the players will determine HOW those tasks are completed. Resources will be granted based on post count, word count, number of muses in a single thread, and/or other mechanics, so the focus will be on generating your own content and developing relationships between your muses. However, we do encourage short, meaningful posts. Direct interaction > internal monologue.

A dedicated notetaker (or notetakers) will need to keep notes on what happens in each thread in your team, as well as track whatever counter a specific task requires. New events will happen each week depending on what your team did the previous week, and some tasks may not have immediate pay-offs. Follow your inspiration, but if you have questions about what is or isn’t allowed, feel free to ping a mod.

Lastly, every weekend until the finale, there will be a condensed, two-day mini game that will allow your team to gather a larger number of materials. This is an efficient way to stockpile resources or achieve certain goals, but in order for your muse to enter, they must have written at least two posts that week assisting another muse with a task.

Task threads do not have to be completed by the following week, but will no longer grant resources for posts unless otherwise specified. All members have permission to nudge their teammates to post if they feel like someone is taking more time than they should.

Frequently Asked Questions

Can I only thread with my teammates?

Any threads taking place within the dream featuring the Flood can only be written with your teammates.

These aren’t the only threads I can do, right?

Of course not! These are just prompts to help give some ideas of possibilities. You’re always free and encouraged to make up your own threads, and feel free to ping Mod Key to propose a task idea for resources.

How do I claim the resources?

In order to qualify for your earnings, the thread must clearly allude to the listed task and feature the task being completed. Your team’s appointed tracker will be keeping tabs on your totals.

Can I only do one task?

Nope, you can do as many as you’d like with as many different partners as you’d like! You can do the same task with more than one person and still contribute toward the resource goal. Bear in mind, however, that this is a month-long event.

What if my partner leaves or drops a resource gathering thread?

If the dropped thread has at least 2 notes (not counting likes, only reblogs with replies in them) and you have hit at least 400 words on your end, you may still claim the resources. This only applies in the event your partner drops out completely.

[oil-and-water-rp]

• Page Rules •

———————————

• No god modding. Straight forward, common etiquette!

• Organization. Whenever tagging this account or leaving an ask, please specify (in whichever way you see fit) who your thread is addressed to, if it was NOT already previously spoken about. Just makes things simpler and saves me the time of asking.

• Headcanons. Most of my muses are LGBT+, it is my personal choice (and I think it makes sense anyways, seeing as heteronormativity does not exist in the canon universe). Do not get hateful with me about it, or try to force me to RP another way. Kind of goes along with god modding.

• 20+. I do not write adult topics with minors, period. However if the thread doesn’t involve things like NSFW or drugs, I don’t mind to write with you. Please let me know up front if you’re a minor so we can discuss appropriate story concepts!

• Tumblr/Discord. I haven’t RPed on Discord yet but I’m noticing that many of the current blogs running are, and I don’t mind to give it a try! I currently main on Tumblr though.

• Any length works. Sometimes I don’t feel like writing paragraphs at a time, and sometimes I’m brimming with ideas that need explicit detail. I’m not a stickler for reply length.

• OC/AU friendly. I’ve made many OCs in the past and adore a well written one! My muses can interact with just about anyone from any universe, I don’t have strict rules on it. Considering Hextech’s power of teleportation, who knows what could happen…

• No forced shipping. Multishipping. If I like your character I’m always down to discuss a potential romantic relationship/thread between muses. That being said, if the muses in our thread do get together, don’t expect me not to write romance/smut with anyone else!

• NSFW. I am open to writing smutty threads. It of course needs to be discussed beforehand, and I reserve the right to decline a situation I’m not comfortable with. Nothing relating to children/ageplay, incest, animals or anything else illegal.

• Password. Whenever you reach out to me to write (if I don’t reach out first), I’ll ask for a password. If you’ve read this far, the password is Piltover’s Finest 🖤

**rules will be updated as I go!**