#someone mentioned this in the tags and i forget tiktok exists

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Dearly Beloved 🔞 Final.

In which you've got a crush on your coworker- and a stalker problem.

Tags/Warnings: I do not condone any of Jungkooks questionable actions, this is fiction, soft Yandere!Jungkook, stalking, criminal actions (trespassing, stealing), obsession, he's really not quite right in the head, mc is kind of stupid for not involving police but wbk

Additional Chapter Warnings: insert 'oh no' tiktok meme here.

Length: long?

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

He's gonna do it. He has to. What if he misses his chance? You already love him.

You just don't know it yet.

But the entire day at the office, someone steals your attention away. There's always someone standing at your desk, asking pointless things, chasing you around like a slave for things that could've been a fucking e-mail. Why do you need to go and copy something for Yaerin when she's got to working legs?

Maybe if she didn't wear those high heels she constantly trips in she would be able to do her job correctly. Or maybe she's simply a viper, trying to work you down until you burn out, unable to offer this place anymore of your energy. She's done it before. She'll do it again.

People like her disgust him. She's rotten to the core, especially considering how she constantly soils the office seats in the meeting room with her disgusting perfume every time she fucks another one of the higher ups in there. He knows it's happening, has walked in on her and a CEO once- and while he told her that her secret was safe with him, he really only did it to have something up his sleeve if he ever needed her for something.

Does that make him just as rotten as her? Maybe. But all is fair in love and war.

He can't help but fidget at this point, watching how you clearly try and stay nice to a coworker currently attempting to convince you to go drinking with everyone after this shift. You don't like karaoke, you don't even drink in social settings because it makes you anxious- Jungkook knows these things.

He would never ask something of you that you're not comfortable with- he'd take you out for your favorite fast food instead to eat it in the car while listening to crappy pop-songs on the radio. That's what you love.

You've mentioned it before. And he never forgets those things.

Who's that man to you anyways? He can sense the tenseness in your muscles as the guy leans on your table, clearly taking up space and showing that he's not going to leave anytime soon- and Jungkook feels his anger grow inside his chest. You don't like this guy. He needs to get him away from you.

"Uh- Steven, right?" Jungkook meekly asks, the man's face snapping to him with an annoyed smile.

"Yeah. What's up kook?" He jokes as if they're best buddies.

They're not. Jungkook couldn't care less if the guy died in a ditch.

"I think Yaerin wanted to talk to you about something being wrong with the calculations for last month?" Jungkook stammers, needing to uphold his image. And also, he can't help it- his emotions make him quiver a bit, muscles unable to stay still as he rubs his hands. "She said it's urgent." He presses.

That's actually only half a lie. It's not urgent- but that whore did want to talk to him about something. There probably won't be much talking involved except maybe a command to take his dick further down her throat- but Jungkook doesn't care what they do. The only thing he does care about is that he fucking leaves.

Which he does, finally, making Jungkook take in a deep breath as he watches the man walk off.

"Thank you so much." You say behind him, and when Jungkook turns around to look at you, you're gazing at him with such warm eyes he feels his trembling body levitate on nothing but thin air. Everything's alright again- if he could look at you like this for the next years of his life, he'd thank every god in existence for it. "I have.. a hard time telling people no." You sigh, running your hands over your face.

"That's.. that's fine." Jungkook nods, a little awkwardly, smiling back. "I'm not that.. good at it either." He chuckles, and you laugh along, already feeling a lot better.

"Do you.. uhm.." You look at your keyboard for a second before you lick your lips- is that new lipgloss you wear? Or did you eat something that stained them? Jungkook isn't sure, but he wants a taste. "Do you wanna.. grab a drink or two after work with me?" You wonder, rushing the sentence out, and Jungkook's lips part a little, eyes round and open as they stare you down with their boba-pearl charm.

"Uh- yes! Yes, sure!" He nods, closing his mouth, before he pats his pants, looking for his phone. "W-wait, I'll uh- I'll give you my number!" He rushes out, writing it down with trembling hands on a sticky note, before offering it to you, who smiles shyly.

"Alright!" You nod. "I'll.. see you tonight then?" You ask, and Jungkook nods, entire body set aflame.

"Tonight."

•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•

He fucked up.

He fucked up.

He fucked up.

He's pacing in front of your door because you surely know. You had to have found out- there's no way you didn't. The moment you texted him, he knew you knew-

because he gave you the wrong number. In his panic, he gave you a number you already have.

Is the police on its way? Did you call the cops? Or another friend maybe to beat the shit out of him? You must be terrified, creeped out to no ends, and he can't blame you. What the hell did he even do? This isn't right.

"Jungkook?" You ask, ripping him out of whatever panicked episode he was going through, wild eyes staring at you who's looking at him with an unreadable expression.

It's quiet as you stare each other down, tension able to be cut with a knife for a good while, before you speak.

"You could've.. just said something." You mumble, and Jungkook isn't sure what you mean. There's a variety of things and situations this sentence could apply to- and he doesn't want to out himself if he's not caught yet. If there's just a simple chance of getting away with it, he will take it. "Do you... like me this much?" You ask, and he's swallowing thickly now.

You clearly want an answer, but he doesn't know in what context. What is he supposed to say.

"I mean, I knew something was off when.." you explain, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you fumble with your words. "When.. I wasn't scared." You admit.

"Because it was you all along."

His entire body grows cold, veins freezing over as he gets his confirmation. You know. You know, and you're probably going to tell him next that you've already asked for a restraining order-

Wait. What do you mean by you weren't scared?

"Do you want to.. come in with permission this time?" You ask, trying to lighten the mood, but he's confused. This isn't the reaction he thought he'd get.

"I-" he starts, stammers. "I'm sorry." He presses out. "I don't.. I just-" he fails to find appropriate words because he really doesn't know why he's like this. He knows it's a problem, he knows he's sick- it's obvious, that little sane part of him is aware of the pure wrongness of his actions up until now.

"I know." You say, nodding, before you step aside to let him inside.

"I can't." Jungkook denies. "I can't- I shouldn't, I'm not- don't let me in, don't ever let me in-" he worries, unsure what's wrong with him now. Is this what realization feels like?

If that's the case, he wants to go back to insanity, because this is torturous.

"Its fine." You reassure. "You're.. I'd really hate to see you leave right now." You deny, offering compassion. "You're not well right now." You say, and he agrees.

But he's never been well ever since he met you almost a year ago.

He'll never be well.

"You're too.. you shouldn't. I might hurt you." He explains in a hurry.

"You won't." You deny. You're not sure why you're so convinced about it- maybe because he's had the chance to hurt you so many times and didn't. Or maybe because you're so lonely that you'll take this love no matter how tainted it is.

"Please come inside." You ask once more.

And slowly, with great hesitance, does he enter your home, painfully wringing his hands as if to keep himself occupied.

"When my mom had a brain stroke, years ago, she changed a lot." You explain, walking in to fill up two glasses of water before you set them on the coffee table in the living room area, sitting down on the couch right after- inviting him.

He takes the invitation. His eyes sting with unshed tears.

"She suddenly hated me. Hated almost everyone." You remember. "The doctors said that it can happen. That if we.. injure just a tiny little specific part of our brains, our whole personality changes." You retell, and Jungkook listens, unsure where to look now.

He's been here before, but he's never seen the apartment with the lights on.

"But we still got along until she passed." You nod. "She went to therapy, and reconnected with me and her old friends." You say.

"I'm.. I think I know what you're suggesting-" he says, before he puts his face in his hands. "But I don't want to." He denies.

"Why not?" You worry with a soft tone. "Jungkook, you're not a bad person. You just need help." You offer.

"But what if my love for you is just mental illness?!" He yells out, panicked, eyes now leaking tears. "I don't want them to kill that. I want to stay- I want to stay sick if it means that I still love you.." he weeps, looking at you with desperation.

"Then we'll rebuild it." You shrug easily. "I'll make you love me again." You say, and Jungkook breaks.

"C-can I touch you?" He whimpers from the other side of the couch. "Just a bit?" He wonders, and you nod, opening your arms.

Welcoming him, because he's not a threat or a danger or a monster.

He's just a little sick.

[wilbursprincess]

About Me!

Hi everyone! I’m a 19 year old writer who loves Wilbur Soot, Taylor Swift, Hermitcraft, iced coffee, chocolate, and her boyfriend <3

DNI List

If you support Sh*lby, get the fuck off my blog. Anyone who can’t see her for who she is isn’t someone I want here.

If you’re a minor, I can’t technically stop you from lurking, but any interactions (follows, likes, comments, reblogs) will result in a block. This isn’t the best way to learn about the birds and the bees.

My Other Accounts

@bellelikesmcyt is my main where I just reblog anything I like. Not much content there but it’s still your favourite writer (/hj)

@whatmcytsaid is my incorrect quote account! Possibly my favorite of my accounts besides this one. I also take quote requests there!

@bellemakesuserboxes is where I make userboxes, and yes, I take requests!

FAQs

How long have you been writing? Since 2023!

How long have you been watching Wilbur? Since 2022!

Have you seen Lovejoy live? Yes! December 6, 2023 on the Road To 100 tour!

Who’s your favorite Bursona to write? Superstarbur or Simpbur ;)

Why’d you start writing? Wanted to write self-indulgent fluffy Wilbur fics, since I didn’t see to many! And look where that got me lol

Do you listen to anything while you write? Depends! I’ll either shuffle my liked songs, listen to an episode of the Imp & Skizz podcast, or put on some weather documentaries on Youtube.

I sent my ask in a week ago, but you haven’t gotten to it yet! Why? Don’t trust my AuDHD ass to be efficient. Sometimes I write all the headcannons in my inbox because I’m not in the mood to write a fic, or vice versa. I’m also prone to having my chronic pain flare up, or I forget this app exists. I eventually get to everything, I swear!

Why do you support Wilbur? His ex’s stories have far too many holes and no proof whatsoever. She’s also said some horrendous things about people with depression, not to mention contradicting herself every time she speaks about this ‘abuse’. My entire reasoning is far too long to fit here, but this document sums up a lot.

What I Will Write

~NSFW/SFW Bursona headcannons

~NSFW/SFW Bursona oneshots/short fics

~Smut, fluff, and a bit of angst and hurt/comfort!

~Any and all Bursonas are fair game for requests! You can see which I’ve written for before below the cut, but I’m always willing to write for a new Bursona :)

~Anything NSFW will be written with an AFAB body and she/her pronouns, and most SFW posts will be gender neutral, they/them pronouns and no specific body/anatomy mentioned.

What I Won’t Write

~Noncon/rape

~Piss/scat/anything with bodily fluids

~Step parent/sibling/incest stuff (just no. eww.)

~Age play/anything to do with minors

~Anything from a porn/TikTok link (I don’t have TikTok and I find porn disgusting)

~Anything I’m just not comfy with, so if you’re not sure, ask!

My Ask Box

Temporarily off so I can catch up 😅

My Tags

~All my writing is under #princesswrites

~All my headcannons are under #princesshcs

~All my fics are under #princessfics

~All my other bullshit is under #princessother

Anonymous List

Shoot me an ask, let me know you’d like to be an anon and which emoji(s) you’d like me to use for you, and you’ll be right here!

~🧭 anon

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Masterlists (sorted by Bursona) below cut! Happy reading!

Wilbur Soot Masterlist

Superstarbur Masterlist (Who is Superstarbur?)

Simpbur Masterlist

Princebur Masterlist

Godbur Masterlist

Beardbur Masterlist

Emobur Masterlist

Sirenbur Masterlist

Streamerbur Masterlist

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Incelbur Masterlist

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Miscellaneous Masterlist

[nekoannie-chan]

Fractured

Title: Fractured.

Fandom: Marvel, X-men, Captain America.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow X Mutant!Reader.

Rating: Teen.

Word count: 682 words.

Warnings: Mention of characters death, interrogation.

Summary: You discovered Brock’s past.

A/N: This is my entry to @multifandom-lover​, Annie-1018 & square 2:

"I used to be a sweet kid."

You can read it on Wattpad & Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie​

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou  @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817   @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum  @caplanbuckybarnes  @hallecarey1  @nana1000night @talia-rumlow   @mylifeispainandiloveit  @writingshae @azulatodoryuga   @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted  @chemtrails-club    @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit​

Brock kept the small locket with your photo; no one but him knew of the existence of that object. That day, maybe it would be his last mission, his last chance to see you. He had a feeling about what would happen, although he could not discern whether it would be good or bad.

He loves you, and he knew that you loved him too, but neither of us dared to take the first step, nor would he forget the look on your face when you discovered who he really was.

He cursed when Steve forced him into the vehicle; indeed, the mission had not gone as he had planned. He knew what would happen, but he would manage to escape.

He had always liked interrogations, but he preferred to carry them out and not be asked the questions himself.

He was sure that Rogers would be the one interrogating him, so he would do everything he could to make him mad and not get any answers. Steve had ruined his life.

Twenty minutes before the door opened, Brock settled into his seat, though he was suddenly confused when he saw you come in instead of Steve.

"It's been a long time," you said, looking at him.

"I can explain," Brock commented, pretending to be disinterested. He wasn't going to let you realize that you had surprised him; he was completely sure that Steve wouldn't miss the opportunity to get information from one of his enemies.

"What are you going to explain to me, Brock? Why were you trying to steal a highly dangerous substance? Or why were you part of HYDRA? " you scoffed.

"Whatever you want, although I guess you're more interested in knowing the former, I guess you're going to record it." Brock's voice sounded sarcastic.

"No one knows I'm here; in fact, no one suspects it, so no cameras," you commented.

Yes, you had used your powers for that; no one would notice that you were talking or anything that happened there. You could even be there for hours and they wouldn't notice it; in reality, it would only be less than a second.

"I know you like me," he said suddenly.

"You don't know anything, Brock."

"I know how you feel about me; I know what you thought about me that day; I saw everything in your eyes; I know too many things... "

"Don't try to be funny, Rumlow; I didn't come here to talk about that," "you said.

"I used to be a sweet kid."

"What? "

"I had a good childhood; my father was military, kind of strict, but still. You know, sometimes things happen for a reason; I didn't expect to be an orphan at sixteen."

"Did that make you what you are now? Is that how you justify everything you've done? "

"Not exactly, but that's how I ended up in the HYDRA facility."

Brock kept telling you everything that had happened in his life as you tried to decipher his intentions. In the end, he was right; you were in love with him, but you needed to know what his plan was. Anyway, it seemed like it was a forbidden love, but how many things hadn't you already done in hiding from the organization?

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"As soon as you said it, I realized, we're not in the cell at the base, are we?"

"Do you really care where we are?"

"No, of course, we could do other things," Brock suggested suggestively.

You smiled. They wouldn't do anything there, but somewhere else.

"Don't worry, I'll show you the plan later, but in the meantime, you must be ready; at any moment, I'll take you out of here," you told him.

Before Brock could say anything else, he was already alone in the room again; however, this time he was smiling. He was going to get out of there, and in the best way possible, with your help.

He looked up when he heard the door open again; this time it was Steve, so he smirked.

[ranboo5]

TMA Fears and how they manifest in my experiences w/ MCY7/D$MP as someone who got semi into D$MP by accident with no prior MCY7 knowledge

The Corruption: Every time a streamer claims they love their fans The Buried: Trying to discuss any fucking actual issues in this community with any nuance at all. No matter how many friends you talk to you and all those takes get buried in one by whatever is the hot new Discourse (see: the Vast) The Hunt: The hot new Discourse and the ever present fear of people with it coming for you  The Lonely: Like the Buried but you don’t have friends with similar takes to discuss these particular takes about sadge The Dark: When bitches are mentioning lore is upcoming but they don’t say what, or when. Or when they say “oooh I dropped lore hints in previous streams and you guys just did not notice. I am not telling you anything else” this IS a vague  The Eye: People mentioning the Discord server in donos to streamers. I’m not saying who but if you know you fucking know  The Web: The algorithm. I don’t need to explain this. Are you watching the next video because you want to watch the next video? Are you watching it because it’s being shown to you? Both? Neither? Does it matter?  The Slaughter: D$MP discourse TikTok. I again don’t need to explain this. The Vast: Twitter dot com. Twitch chats. Any large congregation of viewers. When a streamer breathes and such a large mass of people tweet about it spontaneously that the whole fucking world sees a trending tag. When overwhelming fucking forces of information seem to gather to the worst common denominator. The mob is more than the sum of its parts and the beast is blind and mindless, and it’s so big that no one can comprehend it or appease it, least of all some whiteboy with no PR team; and if the mob is merciful, all it seeks to slake its thirst for entertainment is blood.  The Flesh: Endless thumbnails of streamers’ faces making extreme expressions. The streamers all look vaguely similar. The thumbnails all look identical. The content is the same -- some guys hanging out as friends. For your enjoyment. For your consumption. For your consumption to become a product as inhuman as what is consumed. A processing line of human expression, turned into a product for something that doesn’t exist. You do not know whether to be horrified or to take your place on the processing line, just so you don’t have to think about it. The Spiral: Seeing a D$MP discourse take that is not just a confusing read but sounds completely deranged and based on information that just does not exist?? Did you miss the stream when this was canonized?? Why have you not heard about it?? Did they just make it up??? Did you hear about it and forget??? Is this in fact a distant misinterpretation of something that did happen, warped beyond recognition??? It is a key point of their argument. They are stating it with utter confidence. One of you is either lying or unhinged, or possibly both.  The Desolation: Allegedly Techn0blade’s old Bedwars video purge. I might be a fake Techn0blade fan though because basically all I did was rewatch his Skyblock series repeatedly so I missed out on this boat entirely The Stranger: Being a D$MP!R4nboo enjoyer dealing with other alleged D$MP!R4nboo enjoyers who like D$MP!R4nboo but not D$MP!Techn0blade. This is the strongest one by far. This made me viscerally understand the name I Do Not Know You for the Stranger. This is fucking terrifying. These Benchtrio-main-Boreal-denier devotees wear the skin of a R4nboo enjoyer but there is nothing behind those eyes. I can’t explain it but it’s somehow the single-character equivalent of shipping the first white twinks your eyes fall on when you get into a fandom. This is the sexymanification of that funny enderman. They claim to like R4nboo, but they don’t like R4nboo. They like Something Else. They like a character that doesn’t exist. They hate a character just as nonexistent. But they’re in the tag, they’re drawing the fanart, they’re even reblogging some of your jokes, but you look at their blog and their takes and how their posts read and somehow you know that whatever they are they are not one of you  The Extinction: By this point in the post it should be clear that I think that streamers as a concept are a manifestation of the Extinction. The End: Streamers are kept alive past cancellation and as either side escalates they only live longer. The slow decay of these systems would be something I revel in, but it will nver come. TMA says the End is all powerful, that all it must do is wait, but this is I think proof of concept that it’s not really true. There is no inevitable decline. There is no fear of death here. There is only the fear of filthy, mundane immortality and the corpses of running gags resurrected for more YouTube clicks

[nurseofren]

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Read chapter twenty-three

Title: Prove it

Words: 6800

Warnings: Talks of pregnancy, mentions of vomit

Summary: A friend. A foe?

ST Rambles: I look pretty good for a dead bitch.

Okay. In all seriousness. In the five weeks that I have not updated, it has been chaos. School is absolutely kicking my ass this semester and I am not afraid to say it. Maternal-Newborn is a hell I would not wish on my worst enemy. With this said, I know any further updates will be sporadic, BUT - and I say this to snuff out any doubt on the matter - I will never, EVER, abandon this story. However it ends, rest assured that it will, in fact, do just that.

I thank you all for your patience and encouragement. This story is something I care deeply about and it just floors me that others do as well. I love interacting with you all, either on here or tumblr or TikTok (if you've made one and I haven't seen it, please tag me! My fyp does not work in my favor lol).

Be kind. Don't forget to be a person. All you can do is try your best.

[MASTERLIST] | BANNER/@elmidol

Good afternoon,

I can only hope this correspondence finds you safe and well.

The Board of Physicians sympathizes during this time of displacement and potential grieving. There are countless variables to be considered during uncertain times like these, but those of your safety and well-being are of the utmost importance. In an effort to convey the depth of our understanding, a unanimous vote has approved the decision to extend the dates of the trial by seven days. Upon receiving this official communication, you should plan to arrive on Canto Bight a minimum of two days prior to the morning of the initial hearing. An updated outline has been attached at the end of this e-mail for reference and sent to all pertinent parties.

Per the initial correspondence, Commander Ren is to receive a new provider prior to the trial’s start date. This objective has been met with the solemn barrier of the diminished population of approved nurses and physicians which resulted from the recent tragedy of Starkiller Base. There have been additional unforeseen circumstances also working to lengthen and altogether halt this approval process. Rest assured that we are doing everything in our power to ensure the trial proceedings occur in an organized and professional manner.

The emergent provider shortage, along with the unknown – and likely diminished – amount of surveillance retained from Starkiller Base prior to its destruction, has laid the foundation for the discussion of potential and probable employment during your time on Canto Bight. The discussions surrounding this issue are in their infancies. Should it be that you are to assume a care position during your trial, you will receive a further updated and in-depth itinerary. This would include the dates, times, and location you would be expected to work; this information would be accompanied by any specific limitations regarding your scope of practice while on trial.

Though you are encouraged to reach out to discuss any questions or concerns you may have pertaining to these new developments, the current agenda is to be followed with strict compliance. Should there be any changes, as stated previously, I will communicate these to you in a timely and conscious manner.

Respectfully,

Karmen Zag, Esq.,

Head of Communications,

The Board of Physicians

“Yeah, well, you can go fuck yourself Karmen Zag. Stupid ass name anyway.”

Not that anyone could hear you, nor that anyone would care, you could not help the petty jab. Karmen Zag, the faceless mouthpiece of the institution actively seeking your death, had little to do with anything. Karmen Zag was not the one who had carved initials into your body; that person was elusive to you now. Karmen Zag was not the one who kept you from sleep; that person was dead, killed by the trembling hands of the very survivor they’d created. Karmen Zag was not the one you were currently hiding from; that person, achingly kind and too ignorant to know different, still came to pick you up from shift every night.

Cramped in the corner of a supply room, you sat with your knees tucked to your chest and your datapad resting on your thighs, eyeing the vent at the bottom of the door to spy Mason’s tapping foot. In the seven days since waking up in the medbay, six days since returning to work to help with the increased patient population – or, at least that’s what you were telling yourself – you had found yourself with a desperate need to distance yourself from Mason. He was unaware of all that was haunting you, nescient to the fact he was at the epicenter of the majority of it. To see him was to remember the choice you’d made, to hate yourself for regretting it, to be morally ripped in half by the unwavering war in the back of your mind.

The first three days he would always sneak up on you, flurries of white lies leaving while you fumbled away from him and into the nearest room. I’m on call tonight was your favorite. No, you weren’t, though you had been staying in the on-call rooms to hide the fact that you no longer held a residence on this ship. No matter if you had not received official word on your employment status, you felt an unease when thinking of returning to Kylo Ren’s quarters. It felt too broken, like you’d be a stranger somewhere you’d once considered a home.

Eventually, Mason being an inherent creature of habit, you’d picked up on his timing. On the fourth day you’d decided to stake him out, finding he would spend exactly ten minutes waiting, send a message to your commlink, spend another five toying with his own as he waited for a response, eventually asking whoever was nearest to tell you to call him. You never did. It was despicable, watching his hope falter as the days passed and you were never there to leave with him; wretched, but that did not make it any less necessary.

So long as you were away from Mason, you couldn’t hurt him. If you could create a rift between the two of you so great as to discourage any further interaction, you could save him from all the suffering that came along with being associated with you. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny the comfort you felt in deferring any conversation with him. Avoidance may not be a healthy coping mechanism, but all the ones you’d learned of in school were useless to your set of circumstances; there was no talking this through, no way to speak of Snoke or Kylo or Robbie without getting someone else hurt. You were trapped in your own, sole company; whoever you had become recently, you were barely tolerant of them, let alone fond. It was growing increasingly difficult to recognize your own reflection. At some point you figured you might stop looking altogether.

Zag’s update had been present in your inbox ever since returning to work; with each read through – which, now, you’d have read a hundred times – you felt time pass by. Each night you spent time tucked away here, the cold tile permeating the scrub pants you now wore; the uniform you’d had on when you arrived back on the Finalizer had been too tattered to reuse. Not that you wanted to wear it; in those tattered, bloodied threads lay the obvious truth of how entirely you had failed at the only assignment you had ever been trusted with.

Trusted. The thought made you shiver. Yes. Trusted. Past tense. In every sense it could be. Thus, folded into yourself, away from prying eyes or well-meaning friends, you scrolled aimlessly up and down the message. Though its existence annoyed you, knowing full well that there was no empathy or genuine concern behind the decision to delay the trial, it also brought you ease to know this portion of your life was almost over. Again you were embracing the possibility of your death, only this time rooted in hatred for yourself, not Kylo Ren.

“Alright, well, can you tell her-,”

“Tell her to call you. Got it. Do every night.” One of your coworkers had grown exasperated with Mason – or was it with you? Either way, peeking through the vent slats, you spied Mason’s legs drag out of view. It made your heart fall, feeling more disgusted with yourself each day; it was this confusing combination of feeling a pull to run after him, to apologize to him with every breath you had left, only for that initial urgency to be swallowed by the knowledge that the action would be futile.

With tired eyes, not having gotten more than two hours of unbroken sleep since the sixteen you’d woken from, you looked to your left wrist. It was a routine gesture, pointless in the fact you had not worn the watch since finding it on your bedside table. Much like your uniform, only agonizingly amplified, the sight of the gadget inspired a hollowness in your chest. It remained in a pillowcase, hidden atop the bed you’d claimed. Each night you toyed with it, thumbed at the lifeless screen and wondered if it would ever offer another flicker; each night you caught the hazy reflection of two unfamiliar eyes, finding only the remnants of shattered promises staring back at you.

A sigh crept into your lungs when you stood, arms stretching and hands smoothing back your hair before going to activate the door. It hissed open without your indication; before you could question how, two hands pushed you out of the way and sent you flying face first into the storage shelves. Nose first, actually; the collision rang through your ears, pain throbbing in prominence as you stumbled for stability, arms widespread and eyes pinched shut.

“Oh! You have to be kidding!” Copper crept down your upper lip, cascading over your sharp tongue, foggy eyes opening to blood-stained fingers. “Watch where you’re going, jeez!”

Away from you sounded the door as it shut, but that wasn’t the sound that alarmed you. Across the room, near the sink – at least you hoped it was near the sink – came the horrendous retching that could only indicate vomit. The longer you listened, though, all the while blindly searching for a package of gauze, you found it wasn’t vomit, but an attempt towards it; echoes of dry heaves wracked the room, vomit absent even as the stranger continued in their effort toward expulsion.

A spill of winces left you, a grimace following suit when you tipped your head back, blood draining down your throat. You found a box of gauze squares and tore it open, peeling away a layer and rolling it into a cone before pushing it into one nostril. Vessels pounded against the material, injury soaking into it as you caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice said, groggy and breathless. “The refresher was occupied, and the occupancy indicator wasn’t on.” She took another breath, gasping back spit. “I figured the sink in here would do.”

Another person you’d been avoiding. Talia. Sick. As she would be, of course. It was something you’d fought thoughts on; it was too confusing, too unnerving to put the pieces you’d been offered together. Hux had left her room, had been so distraught. Talia had seized and ended up in the medbay. Armitage. Stars, how that word haunted you in the way it left her paling lips. She’d been so disoriented, so scared. Glassy eyes and green pallor. And the person she’d asked for was Armitage.

With these thoughts, dizzying as they had become, came the image of the very thing that tied them all together: that square-cut, printed, glossy ultrasound picture. Between nightmares of Robbie and desperately trying to find any amount of sleep, you saw it clear in your head, remembered how you’d lost your ability to stand when you first considered the reality of it. It all made sense clinically; the symptoms, the tangible evidence showing a yolk sac, the patient identifiers framing the monochrome image.

But, when you remembered running into Hux, remembered the ghost in his eyes and felt the rather unsettling demeanor – one not marked with errant hatred – he’d met you with, it all started to blur. Jumble. Your mind rejecting the thought that Talia and Hux-

Talia mewled, your eyes opening to find white knuckles outfitting a vise grip over the sink’s metal edge. The fluorescent lights lining the ceiling made it all too easy to see how sick she really was. Tears glinted down her cheeks, her hair dull in its tousled bun, a string of spit straying from her bottom lip; there was a suggestion of green just below the surface of her skin, exhaustion evident in the lavender drapes below her eyes.

A shaky breath left her before she rested against the sink, elbows bent and fingers rolling over her temples. For a moment there was a deafening silence, one that strangled you and emphasized the throbbing in your nose when you stopped breathing. It dissipated when Talia groaned, her head drooping and stance shifting.

“At least shift is done, right?” She sounded like she was talking to anyone. She didn’t know it was you. She didn’t know you knew.

Swallowing, dropping your hand from your face, you tried to think of anything to say. But nothing would come. And, considering how little time you had left to know her – execution or not – you saw no point in frivolous small talk.

“How far along are you?” It was a low rasp; frail in its existence yet bludgeoning the quiet that had preceded it.

She didn’t look up, but you knew she recognized your voice; her every muscle stalled, hair even stilling as your words sank into her. It was the first thing you’d said to her since she’d seized. In her silent shock it dawned on you that it had not been long since you’d been in a situation similar to this; the two of you, a pitting silence, a mess – obvious and blaring – surrounding you.

Only this mess was not something that could be cleaned. This mess existed outside all you had once thought to consider. Though this room was less gruesome in appearance, it held that same suffocated dread, carried with it the reminder that everything could change without a moment’s notice. Watching the color return to her cheeks, absentmindedly brushing your fingertips across the raised marks atop your thigh, it hit you how true that fact was.

A small sound – a swallow – filled the room, a sigh to accompany it. “Six weeks. I think, at least. Maybe more.” She stood then, crossing her arms and leaning against the sink. A wall stood between you and her, invisible yet so entirely present. “No one knows.” Her jaw fluttered at its hinge. The wall was for her; a façade, a crutch. She was scared.

The door lit cool shivers down your back, hands digging into your pockets, a weak attempt at a smile pulling at your face. “Congratulations,” you offered first, forgetting the circumstances before seeing her eyes fall to the floor. “Or not, I guess.”

She kept her eyes down. “I’m not showing, and I’ve been good about sneaking away to throw up, so…”

“Last week,” you said, her stare coming back to you, “after Starkiller. I fainted after arriving back here, and after I woke up,” I washed the Commander of the First Order’s hair and cried to his comatose body about how my life is falling apart, “I just had to know you were okay, so I visited you.”

“I don’t remember seeing you. I actually… How did you even know I had been admitted to the medbay?”

“You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.” You chewed your cheek, recounting any of those 48 hours made your pulse jump. “You weren’t well off when I found you, before they took you to the medbay, so I wouldn’t expect you to remember me being there.”

Her brow dipped for half a second, a crack creeping into that wall. “I didn’t know you found me. It’s difficult for me to even recall most of that day.” Her shoulders dropped, stature less rigid now. “Thank you, though.”

You nodded, not entirely sure why she felt it necessary to thank you. “Yeah. So, you were sleeping and I saw the tests ordered on your board. And then I found your ultrasound on the floor.”

Her eyes were so distant, pupils housing a familiar ghost. “It must have fallen when I was sleeping.” Her lips parted with the whisper, egregious loneliness overwhelming the thought.

It felt like the floor would fall out at any second, the interaction so fragile. Watching her with intent, measuring her reactions, you charged ahead into territory you’d been afraid to enter for so long.

“Talia,” you started, buying more time to think on your phrasing. Her focus startled back from wherever her mind had taken her. “I mean, maybe this is ridiculous, and maybe I’m so far off base in even suggesting it…”

Her arms dropped when a hand reached to tuck a collection of stray hair behind her ear, nose sniffing, teeth pulling at her bottom lip. She took her eyes from yours, breath picking up. That wall she stood behind was wearing.

You couldn’t stand beating around the bush any longer, sick of theorizing about it all. It fled out, no breath to separate any of it. “I’ll just say it: Hux was leaving your room when I came around. And he was being weird. So weird. I mean, he was being… would I say nice? Maybe just, less awful? He complimented me. And it was so weird, but I thought I would give him the benefit of the doubt because, you know, he’d just lost a lot of men. But then it was you in the room and I.. he was so distraught? That is barely the right word, but I mean? He just wasn’t General Hux. And then I found the ultrasound and remembered how you’d asked for ‘Armitage’ earlier when I’d found you, and-,”

A weep signaled the destruction of the wall she’d thrown up, hands clawing into her eyes and lungs heaving full of ragged, desperate air. “Oh, please tell me you didn’t tell him! He can’t- I don’t!” Sobs rolled off of her between each exclamation. “I haven’t told him. I don’t know how. I- he’s so evil! I can’t believe I ever slept with him!”

Seeing her come apart, feeling the guilt she did in every word she cried, you could only think to take her into your arms. In your hold you felt her shaking and the pain roll off of her in thick, grating waves. It was familiar, like she, too, had been existing alone; you had not noticed, so buried in your own avoidance that you had not thought to consider hers.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so- I’m so sorry! It makes me so mad that- ugh!”

“Hey, stop. Slow down,” you soothed, hugging her tighter. “You have nothing to apologize to me for. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay?”

“No, I have! I slept with my Master! And got pregnant! And he’s such a fucking jerk! He’s the whole reason you’re losing your career, you know? And I had sex with him! And I feel- felt real things for him!” A breath stuttered into her lungs. “I never meant for it to go any further than that first night, and then… fuck.”

It burned down to your marrow that you had the power to comfort her, knew everything she was feeling even if it wasn’t hatred that left you crying at night. She would be embraced in knowing you had also slept with your Master; it would minimize the guilt she now felt. To tell her you had fallen for Kylo Ren could help her know that she wasn’t alone.

Instead, feeling her tears accumulate on your sleeve, struggling to keep in your own, you kept quiet. She would not learn how you had burned so bright for your commander. It was selfish, but it was necessary. Self-preservation. She would be testifying against you, taking the stand right after Hux. Her not knowing would do no harm; it would keep her from having to consider or commit perjury. Talia now joined Mason, another soul to protect, another person you would lie to.

Several minutes passed before she stopped trembling, another few before the tears stopped staining your uniform. Humanity existed in these moments, and though you would hide how you knew the advice you would offer her, you knew she needed to hear it. A part of you did, too.

Moving your arms from her back and grasping both her shoulders, you locked eyes with her and forced her to see that you somehow understood her pain. “There is nothing to feel guilty about. Not that you slept with him, or that you got pregnant. Not that you felt things for him or that you still do.” Her eyes shut at that, a fresh streamlet dragging into her mouth. “You can still love him even if he has done awful things.”

“Gosh, how can you say that? He’s ruined your life,” she shuddered, grimacing before looking back up to you.

“I made the choice to take that blood. I had a choice,” your throat tightened, not knowing if you were reciting the words from their origin or from your dream, “I made the one I thought was the best at the time. Hux may be an ass in the way he has gone about the issue, but it’s not like he wouldn’t have reported me.”

She sobbed your name, confusion and hurt wrought in her features. “That blood saved that patient. You saved that patient. We both know that. You saved him and you’re suffering for it and I’m the one who wrote the incident report. He made me write it. Such a fucking bastard.”

Just like that, whatever weird internal truce you’d made with Hux disappeared. “Yeah, that is a dick thing to do, I will say that.”

She wiped at her cheeks, shaking her head. “I should have lied on that report.”

“And gotten both of us in trouble? That isn’t a solution.”

“If I had, you would be less alone in this. And I wouldn’t have to testify against you.” Talia’s eyes shot to the ceiling and back, frustration hot on her breath. “It’s just so-,”

“Unfair. I know. I have… I’ve beaten myself up about it too much not to know that.” This conversation was too similar to those you’ve held inwardly. It was becoming repetitive to keep sulking over something you could not change. But Talia, if she wanted, could change her situation. “We went through the same program, got the same schooling, I know you know your options here.”

She chewed her cheek, shaking her head. A long drag of breath found its way into her chest, releasing when your hands fell to your sides. “This is where you find out how stupid I am.”

It pulled at your heart to hear how hard she was being on herself. “You aren’t stupid. And if you are? Could’ve fooled me with your class rank and just general existence.”

A laugh, weak but not acrid. “Academics were easy. Career is easy. This life stuff? Messy. Complicated. I feel like no matter what I do, it will blow up in my face.” That earlier distance glazed over her stare, a glimmer of yearning present in the way her eyebrows pinched. “And what I want…think I want? I’m not sure it’s even possible.”

“What do you want?”

Talia shut her eyes, capitulation and indignance set in her features, jaw flexed. “I haven’t spoken to him since that night,” she whispered. “He watched me fill out that report. I was sobbing in front of him and he said nothing.” A hand smoothed over her hair and clutched into her bun, lips quivering for a moment. “I didn’t even know until last week. I woke up for a few minutes and they started talking about all that had happened – fainting and seizures and blood tests – and they immediately wheeled me down to have an ultrasound to confirm the hCG results and urinalysis.”

She paused, growing in distance the more she shared. “Was it just your electrolytes that caused the seizure?”

“Yeah. Yes.” She blinked back to the present. “Belkar actually said I was severely dehydrated and that my metabolic panel reflected that.” Talia was dancing between two timeframes; gentleness framed her face when revisiting that of the past. Something so delicate in her stare; adoration cusping on hope. “I always told myself I would never have children. It scared me seeing how sick they could become when we had our unit on pediatrics. I’d never wanted to feel so helpless as the parents I saw during clinical.”

It almost winded you to watch a single tear slip down her cheek, allowing her silence during her pause before she looked up at you, desperation drowning her eyes. She couldn’t find – or, maybe, did not want to believe – the words that overwhelmed her. “What changed?” You knew, but she needed to hear it for herself.

Her lips had become puffy, teeth pulling at the bottom one. She reached into the front pocket of her scrub dress, pulling from it that square print, only now with rolled, worn corners. “I know it’s early and there are so many things that can go wrong and I know I had been drinking before I knew, but…” A swallow bobbed her throat, a fond smile forming when she toyed with the scan. “When they handed this to me? Something just, I don’t know, came into view.”

A surge of immense pain coiled into you. In her reverie you saw yourself, realized how fortunate her situation was; she had something she wanted and even though it was complicated, she had a choice in the matter.

Again, her mind had wandered, distraction framing her tone; her brows pinched together for a second, a question sparking from her memories. “Have you ever wanted something so much, and maybe you didn’t fully understand it, but you just knew? For whatever reason, this was the thing you would do everything in your power to make possible? To have what you want, no matter how daunting or nonsensical it seemed?”

“Yeah,” you choked out, coughing against the new strain on your throat, “I think so.” Talia had that ability, though, and it cracked against your skull how helpless you were to go after what you wanted.

“You said that I could still love him if he’s done awful things,” she quoted, her attention returning to you. “I don’t love him. I don’t think I really know him that well. But…” She shook her head, shoulders shrugging and a puff of breath leaving her nose. “I miss him. It’s so dumb, but the bastard is nice to be around when he isn’t buried in politics. When he’s just a person. When he isn’t the General. When he’s just—” another smile, similar to her earlier one “—Armitage.”

“That has to be the strangest part of this whole thing.” A small laugh bubbled past your lips. It had been so long since the last one. “Armitage.”

“It was very odd at first. But I’m not going to cry out General, oh please General! when I’m cumming, so I got over it.”

Dumbfounded, all you could do was gawk at her candor. It warmed you, though, feeling like that first night you’d hung out with her. A good memory. Her cheeks pinked in your silence and the sight pulled you straight into a ruckus of laughter, tears – born in pain, falling from humor – and lightheartedness. It was short lived, but Talia joined in your fit; abashed giggles leaving her smile-tight face.

“I mean, I feel like it would be weirder if you were sleeping with Commander Ren.” Talia jabbed at your shoulder. “Calling him… Kylo? That just feels downright wrong.”

Instantaneously, your high fizzling into nothing before her, you found yourself right where you were when you’d said your first goodbye. Ky. It wilted your heart, shrouded whatever glimpse of happiness you’d just caught. Talia was too lost in the joke to notice you’d backed away from her, face turned so she couldn’t see the suffering rise to the surface.

“Ha, yeah. Wrong. So, so wrong.” You cleared your throat, brushing past the weak attempt at nonchalance, ready to be off this subject. “So you miss him? You miss… Armitage? Yeah, no. I’m gonna stick to Hux, if that’s alright?”

A final laugh lit from her chest, Talia waving you off. “That’s fine, of course. And yeah. I miss him.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you think it could work? Me and him, and—” she gestured down to her abdomen, placing the scan back in her pocket “—this?”

This was none of your business, and you doubted anything you could say would help her, but there was genuine curiosity in her voice. There was respect in how she wanted your insight into something so intimate and personal.

A sigh preceded your reply, unsure if you were speaking to her or yourself. “I think… Just as you said earlier: no matter if its daunting or nonsensical or even completely impossible – if you want it and you are willing to do everything in your power to get it?”

Hope lit behind her eyes, bloomed in her chest at the suggestion. “It could work.”

Struggle hid behind a mask of hope. Of course she did not know how it pained you to offer words that would never exist for yourself, and it wasn’t fair to ruin her moment of clarity with the bitter bite of ill-placed jealousy. There was no part of you that envied her condition, but instead what it entailed; you coveted her ability to choose the life she wanted.

Talia shook her head free, a giggle warm on her breath. “We should get out of here. Night shift is gonna run us off soon. You have the time?”

“Uh, not readily available. But I’m sure it’s way past shift change.” You started toward the door.

“Hey, I noticed you’ve been staying in the on-call rooms?”

“Oh.” It surprised you that she’d noticed. The knowledge warmed you to your core, both from embarrassment and appreciation. “Yeah, I know you guys have been swamped down here with all the fallout from Starkiller, so I just thought I’d stay near to help out.”

She tsked, your name a mocked plead. “You are Starkiller fallout. You need to rest. Especially now that you can. I got an update from Zag about the trial. You’ve got, what? Three or four days before Canto Bight? Seven until the initial hearing?”

She’d done the same math you’d gone over at length. Hearing it from someone else’s mouth made it that much more real. Frightening. “I know. I do, I know. But what’s wrong with spending them here?”

“You know as much as I do that working constantly drains the absolute soul from you. Even just working these past three days I have been dying for my time off.”

“Yeah, but you have a reason to be tired.”

“I’m pregnant. You survived a planet exploding all the while keeping the Commander of the First Order alive. Are you forgetting that?”

Talia, I wish I could forget all of it. “No, I’m just-,”

“And I know you’ve been blowing off that McCarty guy. He’s a physician, right?”

Maybe you’d been less discreet in your efforts toward avoidance than you thought. It felt like being caught; this web of lies was becoming a strain, less of a benefit, a hinderance rather than protection. “He’s… Mason doesn’t know what he’s asking for, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” Talia strode to your side, stern eyes on your own. “Look,” a breath softened her demeanor, “whatever happened on Starkiller, whatever you saw or felt – it’s affecting you. I don’t know what it is, and I’m not asking you to tell me – though, you can tell me anything – but at some point it becomes a choice to remain stagnant in grief.”

“Hey!” Talia had always been blunt, but her audacity now clawed at your patience.

“Okay, sorry, yes that was very harsh,” she placed a firm hand on your shoulder, “but you are the one who made me realize that. Here. Now.”

Tears threatened but remained stuck in your throat. “Like you said, I’m alone in this. I have to be.”

“The way I see it, you aren’t-,”

“Talia, I am.”

“You aren’t. Me being here and that physician coming here every night is proof of that.” You met her with silence. She shrugged. “You could have left me to deal with my issues alone, but you saw me and knew I couldn’t.” More silence on your part, her stare flicking between your eyes. “I see you. You can’t deal with this alone. I won’t let you.”

You fought to hide them, but one by one fell the tears you had not permitted before. For so long it seemed you had been shielding others from hurt, ensuring a safety they were not aware they needed. Talia was offering that to you, now. Rejection was the first instinct to kick in, feelings of doubt and thoughts of I do not deserve this blaring in urgency.

But then she spoke, naming what you had been too scared to confront. “Choose to not be alone. It doesn’t make you a bad person,” her hand left you, overwhelming assurance in her smile, “You’ve been strong for long enough, for so many others. Let someone be strong for you for once.”

The next breath you took was a million times lighter than any you’d had since seeing Kylo those days ago. She really did see you, more than she could ever know. It was imperfect, of course; you weren’t sure anyone would ever be fully aware of how much pain you were in, there was so much you could never share. It was her offer that brought you solace; it may be superficial for you, but Talia was in your corner, and she believed, knew, that it meant something. In her eyes, pooled with intensity, you heard her loud and clear: that oath, born in blood, was renewed here and now, its strength indelible even in silence.

“Now,” she activated the door, its hiss shivering down your spine, “I think Mason would love it if you caught up with him.” The two of you stepped into the hall, already beginning to part paths. “I’d invite you to stay with me but I, uh…”

“You’ll be otherwise predisposed?”

“…We’ll see,” rose bloomed in her cheeks, “I don’t think I’ll tell him. Not tonight. Not yet.”

“Ah,” you sighed, a yawn slipping past.

“Get some sleep! And maybe just… get some, you know?”

The joke registered too late, her paces halfway down the hall before you called out, “Oh. Oh. No, I’m not with- we aren’t anything more than friends.” Not sure if she even heard you, she waved behind her before turning a corner. Well. That’ll need clarifying.

Heat flared in your cheeks, several pairs of eyes weighing on your shoulders at the outburst. Would there ever be a day when you were not embarrassing yourself on this unit? Given this would be the last shift before going to Canto Bight, probably not. Eyes tracking your steps, deciding to surprise Mason instead of call him, you found your way to the on-call room where your entire world was set up; remnants of a past one, at least.

In it you gathered your belongings – a pair of back up scrubs, a toiletries bag, and the lifeless watch. There was a hesitance before placing the device with the other items. Six nights you had spent staring at its blank face, resenting the stranger you’d come to see. Glancing your face before placing it in the bag, you did a double-take. In the most minute details, barely there, you found a familiarity in the eyes you met; they were less dull, something like life or light peeking through the surface.

You dropped the gadget into your pocket, gathered your uniform into the bag, and took a final glance at the shelter you’d sought amidst a storm that had nearly consumed you. Even though nothing had truly mended, there was comfort in the absence of solitude; in the face of probable death, the explicit knowledge that you were not alone made it less daunting. Less impossible.

A final breath brought the door to a close, footsteps leading you into the vast expanse of the Finalizer. The change in air was nice, lungs welcoming the difference and cluing you into the fact you still had a gauze square shoved up your nose. It took a tug to pull it from its place, a sting pinching at the sudden release of pressure.

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling a new stream of warmth trickle past your lips. Two fingers pressed to your mouth, testing for a mirage but coming back with the real thing, red creaks splintering into the ridges of your fingerprint. Without thinking you wiped it down your scrub top, forgetting you were no longer clothed in camouflaging black, but instead unforgiving grey. “Fuck!”

“Wasn’t this how I left you here the last time?”

The airlock must have snapped, lungs solid, muscles frozen. Tension seized your ribcage, pulse plummeting, blood bounding against tuned ears. Every bit of moisture abandoned your mouth. Every bodily process you could think of stopped.

There was no modulation, each word raw, bare, and clear as the last time you had heard their founder. At least, the last time you’d heard it while awake. It was less haunted now, filled not with insidious rage but rather bone-chilling earnest.

“I suppose not, given it’s your blood tonight.”

He drew nearer, boots heavy and steps paced to perfection, the rhythm of his stride an echo of your heart. Kylo Ren was less than three paces from you and all you could do was endure the sensation of a singular ruby droplet following the line of your artery, dragging past your clavicle, and ghosting the skin over your sternum. The crimson trail began to dry, steps no longer sounding when you forced yourself to look up.

Chaos tore into the base of your spine, every nerve ending firing at the sight of his bare face, no helmet to veil the visage you had memorized. The black strip rested in prominence, striking through his features; in it you found a curious attraction, finding it fit him. The wound was less severe now, healing with time. He wore no helmet, but that by no means meant there was no mask keeping him at a distance only he knew the measure of.

“Where have you been, officer?” Cyanosis was a likely reality, breath still evading you as each word fell in baritone; petrified pupils not knowing where to focus. “Your services finally required, and yet you were nowhere to be found.”

Nothing. No words. No sound. No thoughts. Barren in every aspect of cognizance, you remained silent and still, only knowing to perceive him for what he was: superior.

A twitch at his brow, a narrowing of his eyes. Studying. Testing. “How unfortunate; starved for words when they would actually count.” His injury moved fluidly against his words, a beauty in the way it ebbed with each syllable.

A ping sounded at your waist, commlink buzzing in your pocket.

Languid, Kylo’s eyes dipped toward the sound. “You should get that,” he drawled, eyes twitching before conquering yours once more, “could be important.”

His tone haunted you, demeanor too suggestive. You swallowed against a dry throat, locked in his stare, knuckles brushing your watch when you took out your commlink. It trembled in your grip, shocked muscles heavy with weakness. His concentration had become adamant, palpable, an eyebrow prompting your attention to whatever message had triggered the alarm.

Concerning the defendant,

In the week since the previous correspondence, it has come to be that the defendant is to partake in nursing practice during her time on Canto Bight. This allows the Board of Physicians ease in collecting surveillance imperative to their final judgement.

Commander Ren’s decision to bar the defendant from external practice has been nullified as to not contradict this process.

In permitting the defendant’s practice while on trial, the objective to obtain a new provider has been benched. Due to this, the defendant shall remain assigned to her current Master while residing on Canto Bight…

At last, breath flourished your lungs, an inadvertent gasp thrusting a glutton of oxygen into your airway. Crazed eyes darted over the message for any sign of a mistake that would prove it to be falsified; the only thing you could find was finality, a document containing the proposed schedule attached at the end of the message.

A buzz washed through your brain, overstimulated by the information, everything around you suddenly all too close and bright. Jaw bound shut but still trembling, eyes low and unfocused, a familiar pressure flicked just under your chin. The Force tipped your face upward, pupils strict in their position, passing first over a tense jaw and landing at last on the challenge that lay behind Kylo Ren’s glare.

“I’ll see you on Canto Bight, officer.” A serpentine smirk slithered along his lips, one stride bringing him so his face was hidden, shoulder linked with yours, and fingers jut out to graze at the hidden permanence atop your left thigh. His voice, an onslaught of emptiness, a cold threat, suffocated all that surrounded you. “You wanted to give me more? Prove it.”

[vvakarians]

I need to be vulnerable for a second.

It’s been a year. I’ve made a lot of progress and am still uprooting shit I’ve been wading in for a while now. I’m growing and learning. But I’ve never gone into detail really, maybe on twitter and mentioned it a couple times but yeah. Been thinking a lot.

TW for Homophobia / Abuse

TLDR; My best friend was a shitlord and I spent ten minutes painfully sobbing about it. I’m fine lmao just needed to make a messy post.

Won’t be mentioning who they were on SM here but if mutuals who are and were friends w/ both of us want to know, hmu lmao. I sincerely hope y’all didn’t get shit on like I did

I’m so tired. I’m tired of knowing that someone I used to call my best friend literally cyberstalked me in a discord server and when I told them I wanted to have a space without them/wouldn’t be interacting with their character, they lost it.

I’ll call this person A. They were there for me through a lot but it got weird towards the end for sure. A was always clingy, always needed to be right (passed it off as an OCD thing), and always felt like they needed to be included in things I was doing. Abandonment issues due to trauma they said, still doesn’t excuse it but you know? Fine.

I identified as aro/ace for a long time bc I was severely traumatized. Someone thirst followed me and cornered me into a relationship/took my kindness for granted (Not A, not yet). A’s reaction was to assume I would never have time for them and we would drift apart, just because I had a partner. They complained about this to me and said that even if I was just their friend and QPP (we were both aro/ace) that they still felt I would abandon them. I tried to calm them down the entire time, this was October 2018. Three days later I had a severe PTSD break (unrelated trauma) and broke up with my ‘boyfriend’. A said it was the right decision and we left it at that.

Cut to me a year later having recovered a bit and realizing I had romantic feelings still. That I *wanted* to kiss and take someone out, and do heavily romantic things. During this time A and I had severe issues with D&D parties also where they would break down if they didn’t know everything and said that I couldn’t produce any part of my worlds for profit bc theh had contributed in a small way. It was a bad time. It lead to the complete disintegration of two relationships that I can...probably never get back. One of which I’m not sure I *want* back, but that’s a different story.

Basically they wanted to be the DM with half the credit despite only making npcs I could easily replace or cut out entirely. Now that I started playing again, I have.

I still was friends with them, still waveringly QPP’s with them. Though I’d often feel my skin crawl when they touched me or wanted to be in my space. This was all the time, not when I got triggered into a PTSD episode. I was annoyed when they wanted to always be in my space and have all my attention. But I felt obligated to A and had been recently traumatized again.

Even with all of this I wanted to come out as gay / mlm but still keep part of my aceness with me. Of course in feeling this, I approached A to let them know. Their response was to immediately come back with ‘we can do all of those things you want to do with a romantic partner’. Which I felt may be true for some aspecs but not me. I wanted to *be* with someone and not just...a friend. I wanted to have a boyfriend and be cheesy. I told A that it was probably true but I wanted something else. That I wanted space to think on what they had said. They came back with ‘you’re abandoning me. You just don’t like me. Everyone always leaves me’. Once again with the ‘you get a bf you’ll forget I exist’ rhetoric 🙃.

I told them that they weren’t the person I wanted to be romantic with. I was looking for someone else. I wasn’t attracted to them that way. They took that as an insult. Though to me they relented. Come to find out A got one of our mutual friends involved bc they lived in the same area. They vented and complained to them that I was going to abandon them, that I was punishing them, that they didn’t know what they did wrong. Which was behavior my parents exhibited when I was forced out as trans to them. That Inwas punishing them somehow for a misdeed or that they knew me better, they did something ‘wrong’.

The only outlet I had away from A was TikTok, we weren’t really doing D&D anymore because the party had dissolved due to their controlling habits. Every account I had was heavily monitored by A, I would vent and they would immediately pull it up and ask if I was okay. Even if I had explicitly said before that I was alright and needed some space. But TikTok was a place they barely went on. So I cosplayed more after our last visit (October 2019), and got a small following after joining a lovely d&d tag ran by one of my now closest friends. I also met my boyfriend through this tag, and several other very close friends. I made an oc that I integrated in one or two sessions of D&D before I completely stopped DMing.

Now, it gets worse. I get a following for cosplaying my oc Asariel Whately, join a server, and for a time have a pretty okay place away from A. Some breathing room. When I mentioned that Asariel (who we had talked about maybe being w/ an oc of theirs) was going to romance my now boyfriends oc in the tag, they got upset. They said that they were sad to see them with someone else, and asked if it could all be before my campaign/not actually be real. I told them no and that I’d continue doing what I wanted.

Well, after that and scouring my TikTok (i made the mistake of saying anything in the first place), they got invited to the server and started RPing/cosplaying in the tag. Which they’re allowed to do, but A has a history of wanting to be in my things and being the center of attention. When I say A got involved with *several* other characters, including a possible *minor*, that doesn’t even cover the worst of it. They got involved in a huge polyam relationship (which is fine, i’ll explain why their behavior was weird tho) that LITERALLY took up chunks of the whole server. Any time my bf and I got into chat to rp out some scene for Asariel and Fraanic, A was there to bury our scene in their own garbage. Could have been conicidence but who knows. Then the minor got added into the mix and most of us just had the server on mute/rped in DMs. It was so bad that other people noticed their bad behavior, meta gaming, and needing to be right.

Our relationship ended when someone from a private close knit server made up of all the people who wanted to remove ourselves from the toxic environment, outed our server. Said there was an nsfw server and A immediately jumped to say they wanted an invite. I panicked and DMed them for the first time in weeks to say that they couldn’t. That I needed space from them and this was the one place I had. We had a fight, they said ‘they’re my friends too’ and I pointed out that they had forced their way in, that I said I needed space. Eventually they gave up on it, thank god. But it left me wrecked for months. I didn’t create, I retreated into a two person server with my best friend who is now my boyfriend and just never looked back.

While I’m grateful that this massive upheaval gave me a new support network, got me into a good place for a romantic partnership, and allowed me to heal...I still have a lot of pain. I felt like I had been commodiefied, like an object because of how kind and soft and pliable I was. Because someone thought I was beautiful and *theirs* in the worst way. My ocs who are some of my largest coping mechanisms were tainted, I could barely play Dragon Age, couldn’t think about it. Because someone had conpletely obliterated my love for it. I hate to think they then continued to do that same thing to other people but I honestly have no clue what A is doing now. They dropped off the planet and honestly good riddance.

[gigsoupmusic]

PUBLIC discusses TikTok fame and why people are falling in love with their story - Interview

If you look at PUBLIC the band's, Facebook page, you will see listed under their interests "You." The more you see from PUBLIC, the easier it realize that their interest really is the fans. Seeing the band perform live is electric, full of energy, and even acrobatics, a PUBLIC show becomes a true party. In an interview with GIGsoup, John Vaughn, the band's frontman, said this of their high energy act "I think that once people are in that room, we are kind of responsible for showing them a good time, letting them escape for a little bit. We don't really know any other way..." PUBLIC consists of three friends John, Ben, and Matt that met in their high school jazz orchestra class. What once was three classmates making music in orchestra or Ben's childhood basement has transformed into a music career in which they have opened for big names like Twenty One Pilots, AJR, and American Authors. "The three of us have been through a lot of different things, and all the while, it has been just like the three of us like you said having faith in each other and having faith in our music." Says John. People came to learn about this band of three friends from Cincinnati, Ohio, when their song 'Make You Mine' became a viral TikTok trend, being featured in over 2.5 million videos. This sudden TikTok fame has seen their streaming numbers for 'Make You Mine' grow over six million streams each week. I asked John the most significant thing to come from this sudden TikTok bump, and he told me it is that people are learning and loving their story as friends from high school that have been creating music for years. That's why people are interested in it beyond just liking the song. https://youtu.be/WMXPi4FXTXM "It's like wow, this band has a story. This band has been honing their craft for actual years now." John said, "This band has been opening for a lot of really big artists but haven't really done their thing yet or had their time." Aiming for positivity and being able to connect with people through their art PUBLIC, has a story that is still being told. The band recently signed with Kevin Jonas Sr.'s management group and their "dream record label," Island Records. These groups are all committed to helping PUBLIC take their act to the heights they have always dreamed of. I had the chance to talk with PUBLIC lead singer John Vaughn for an interview. We talked about where the band started, going viral on an app they had never heard of, working with a team of people versus self-production and releases, what to expect from PUBLIC in the future, and the song John most wants to cover on a future headlining tour. Read the full interview below. https://youtu.be/HG2tpVCPVaU Hi John, Thank you for taking the time with me today. I'm excited to talk to you. Now PUBLIC is on tour with American Authors and Magic Giant, and I saw you in Salt Lake City, and you guys were electric! Like I'm pretty sure I saw someone doing a flip at one point, and there was so much energy you had on stage. How has this tour been, and is that the energy you have always had on stage as a touring band? John Vaughn: Yeah! Well, first off, thank you for coming out to the show. We appreciate it. But yeah man, we kind of have like a creed or a code which is just like that we try to give the same show whether it is fifty people or it is twenty thousand people. We try to convey the same type of enthusiasm and energy every time. I don't know, it's like the people just show up, and it doesn't matter how many people show up, those people showed up to see you, they are there to enjoy music, they are there because they love your music, and you need to give them what they came for. I think that once people are in that room, we are kind of responsible for showing them a good time, letting them escape for a little bit. We don't really know any other way, we get up there, and kind of feed off each other and are full of energy. We're hyper, and we are musicians, and so energy is just kind of our thing. I wanted to talk about some of that energy and chemistry PUBLIC has as a band. I read how you met in high school in a jazz orchestra class. If someone would have told you back then that you three would still be creating music together, what would you have told them? John: We never really had a different plan. Obviously, we have been very realistic, and this is a really hard industry to break into, and we have been, I would say doing this professionally since a little after high school. As in like we have been working with other people and releasing music professionally and stuff. But I don't know man, it's like very surprising because we are working with our dream label now (Island Records,) and we're getting to do the things that we have always seen other "real bands" do, and we are doing that stuff now, and it's truly surreal. But at the same time like I said, we never really had an alternative plan, and we have always really believed in the music we've done. Which is because we have always put everything we have into the songs. For the longest time, we also just wrote, recorded, and produced everything ourselves. It has always been a really DIY project for a very long time, so it is really cool and also very fresh and new for us to be now doing things that involve other people and like this is the first tour that we've been on where we actually have a lot of other things happening outside of tour. Like tour is just one of a few different irons of the fire that we have going on, and that is totally totally new for us. I'd like to say it is surprising, but at the same time, I have always believed in what we're doing. I love the belief that you have had in yourself and each other as a band. What has been the most rewarding part of creating together for so long? John: I think it would specifically be that we trust each other, and I think we have all learned how to exist with each other. It's a lot like a relationship that you might have with somebody. You have to learn how to argue, and how to be honest with each other, and learn how to go through really tough things. I think we have really done that now. The three of us have been through a lot of different things, and all the while, it has been just like the three of us like you said having faith in each other and having faith in our music. It's kind of hard to pick one thing but the most rewarding thing, but I would say I had an experience at one of the shows on this tour where this really young girl came up to me and told me that she turns on our music when she feels sad and that it immediately makes her happy. For some reason just that little girl saying that to me because I was just picturing her in her room having a bad day and then turning on a PUBLIC song and she was crying when she said it to me she was crying and like giggling at the same time and sort of couldn't really control herself, and it actually made me start to cry to and I had to like hide my face while I was finding something. It was very humbling because you can kind of lose sight of why you're really doing this when you're like on the road and it's tiring, and you're doing TV, and all this stuff and people try to make you feel like you are cooler than you are. But at the end of the day, some little girl coming up to me and saying that "Your music literally brightens my day." It's very humbling and I don't ever get used to that and like I need to hear that more and more, sometimes you get too wrapped up in like the business side of music business that sometimes you forget how much it impacts someone emotionally. That is one big reward. That's a great point. I love that you said that. I think a lot of the way PUBLIC is able to connect with people through your music comes from the connection you have as a band. https://youtu.be/nLnp0tpZ0ok I have to ask John, does 'Make You Mine' get stuck in your head as easy as it does mine? John: I think, um maybe. Well, probably not like it does yours because it is our song. But the thing I think that we are experiencing right now is that there is so much content that we are doing right now with the song and so much content that we are seeing online and in different places with the song. It's kind of like whether we like it or not we are hearing it at least one hundred times a day it feels like. I almost can't tell if it is in my head or playing off of someone's phone in our van or something. I follow the hashtag #makeyoumine, and I think I see that song set to like 25 different videos each day just scrolling down my Instagram timeline. It's an ear-worm. I don't hate it yet (laughs.) Like people talk about that like "oh, we got tired of our own song!" and we have always been like "Wow, that sounds like a great problem to have." You know, to us, it's like that's our baby out in the world that has all of a sudden become other people's baby. So a big part of that content you mention seeing your song everywhere is from 'Make You Mine' become a major TikTok trend. How did this whole TikTok thing happen with 'Make You Mine'? John: The thing with that is like we didn't start it, it wasn't engineered by us or anything. We didn't even know what TikTok was, and to this day, I don't think we really know who did the first video that went viral. We talked to some TikTok influencers these days, and they've talked to us about like the first time they made one with it. But we don't really know where it started. We just started to see a really nice spike in our streaming numbers at first, and we were kind of like you know like 'Make You Mine' has always been a fan favorite and stuff, but our fanbase just hasn't been that big... and now people started tagging us in videos and sometimes it was like somebody was posting a TikTok on Instagram, and we would see that and their logo and we started to wonder what that was. Then we saw like a montage of like the characters from your favorite movie like Harry and Hermoine from Harry Potter, and it was set to 'Make You Mine,' and we were like "this is so internet, what is this?" Then obviously after a few months are team started to take notice too because it was just becoming too big for us to not try to do something with it. Long story short, the sound has been used over two million times, and TikTok we started contacting people that worked with TikTok to make sure our name was on the song, which is actually a good point because right when we first started seeing the videos, nobody knew that it was by a band. It is crazy how a song can just exist out there in the world, and no one really cares who wrote and recorded it and performs it. So I think I spent like a whole couple of days one time and compiled a list of videos using the sound and just said, "Hey, this is our song. There are thousands and thousands of videos, and our song name isn't on any of it. How do we change this?" They were really awesome, and that's when the dots started to connect, and people were like "Oh, this is by PUBLIC. They are a band that is active and have energy and are out there now releasing music and playing shows." https://youtu.be/LIBi7RMEy-g So I interviewed someone that won the TV show The Voice. I tweeted out the article, and he retweeted it and all of a sudden before I knew it I had a bunch of follows and retweets from a bunch of older fans of the voice that were on Twitter. So there was this bump from The Voice, and you've talked about seeing this increase in streaming numbers. But just how crazy has this TikTok bump been for streaming, for your shows, and for PUBLIC? John: It's been crazy specifically because that story that we are a band out of Cincinnati, Ohio that has been independent for a really long time and hasn't really broken per se, and the story that we are a band that has been doing that and all of a sudden had a song that has exploded on TikTok which is a new app, and that is really why it has been crazy. That's why people are interested in it beyond just liking the song. It's like wow, this band has a story. This band has been honing their craft for actual years now. This band has been opening for a lot of really big artists but haven't really done their thing yet or had their time. So people like Kelly and Ryan, getting us to play was like our first national TV debut. It was really the story that they loved was us as high school friends that started a band, and now our song is everywhere because of this crazy app that is also everywhere. So that is really the gem of it right now. It is just kind of this interesting path for a band to go on. https://youtu.be/1cOUo5XzRN0 It really is an interesting story. You talked about your story is also still being written now and is focused on how to evolve next. PUBLIC has been self-releasing things for a long time, what has it been like working with a team like Kevin Jonas Sr. and like you mentioned earlier your dream record label with Island Records. What has it been like working with them compared to on your own? John: I mean, just first and foremost, they crush it. Like Island, their team is incredible, and that's really why we went with Island Records. We had immediate chemistry, and we liked from our first conversation with them they were talking about vision and where we want to go with the band rather than like "you guys are having this little flash in the pan moment right now, and we want to capitalize on it" it was very much like you guys have put in the work and you guys have been around we want to help take you guys for the long run. So obviously that has been radio promo and marketing help, and I'd say marketing has kind of been our weakest thing just because we've never had a team around us. Having people getting us TV spots, and doing interviews now, or podcasts, and we've never touched anything like that before. So they have crushed it there, and it is also like this co-laboring thing, you know? They want to come in and like take what we are doing and expand it. They want to blow it up, while also like providing us with anything that we need to make that happen. Which does include guidance strategically a lot of the time, too, which is cool and very new. Then obviously Kevin Jonas Sr. is a very connected man, but back to the brass tax with him too from our first conversation, we liked Kevin because he is a good guy. We have met a lot of people in this industry, and a lot of people that have not seemed trustworthy to be honest with you and I think it is an industry that can really bring the worst out of people because there is a lot of potential money involved and you really have to be careful. From the get-go though with Kevin, we could sense his passion for music. Music excited him, his eyes lit up when he talked about songwriting or singing, and just obviously the stuff he did with his sons too. Back when they were first starting out, I loved that threshold they were at and it was just great chemistry. All the while, it has been very new though, because we have been so self-sustaining for the longest time. We're not just learning how this works. We are also learning how to let other people come in and like help us. We just haven't had that before. We haven't really known how to let other people do that for us. https://youtu.be/ldElCttO1kk Again, I love your story and just how you got in contact with Kevin Jonas Sr. and I won't make you retell the story, but basically, your dad randomly sat by someone at a conference that knew him and was telling him about your band, and a connection was made. What is next, and what are you excited for in this amazing story? John: PUBLIC's story I think because 'Make You Mine' isn't that new of a song (laugh) the app just kind of breathed new life into it. At the same time, it's interesting because we have been pushing a song and have more current things that are unreleased. I would say for PUBLIC's story. I would say that I am excited to like we are kind of thinking about maybe putting together a whole new body of work, which is a whole new process with like a record label involved. I'm really excited for us to put our next foot forward. Some of the music that we've written recently we've been finding times to write on the road and we are beyond excited about it and it's so fresh and so new feeling. At the same time, we feel like this new audience that we are receiving is really going to love it, and that is really really freaking exciting. For me, I am working on navigating the balance of art and commerce with label life. I'm just learning how to be a very positive person in this industry. I hope that anyone I come in contact with feels like I'm a good guy and someone they can trust. I want my eyes to be on the right things, which is art and human connection and just kind of being there for each other. Now, John, I have a question I ask in every interview before we close. I am very interested in real musicians that play on stages all over the world, one if they are interested in doing karaoke, and two what their go-to song would be? Do you have a go-to karaoke song? John: Dang! Dude, I don't know if I have a go-to song so, I will just say what my last one was. I was downtown with my family, and I think it was back in the summer and my younger brother and I did 'We Will Rock You' really late and here is the thing... like no one can do Freddy Mercury, and Queen is just so incredible, and that's not even my favorite Queen song. Anyway, we had this thought that if we go up there and just really sell it that everyone will get riled up. It's like the National Anthem for white people... like "We Will Rock You" and we went so hard and I actually think it had the opposite effect. We were doing 'We Will Rock You' and I think people actually liked it less because we were taking it so seriously. We ended up walking out and it was a totally weird situation, but it was so funny, and we were laughing. So I don't know man if that's a go-to but 'We Will Rock You' was a challenge. That's the perfect story, and it brings up one more question. Did you do the stomp stomp clap in the song? John: Yes! Yes! Like no, we ripped right into it, and I like was in the crowd. I was like, "Okay, I do this for a living, I can get a group of people who have had a few drinks to rally behind us" and that is just not what happened. Very humbling. That's amazing! Is there any chance that will be covered by PUBLIC in the future? (laughs) John: I will absolutely say that I have pitched that to Matt and Ben probably about sixty times. I think they are right. Their response is always if we do a headlining show and have some momentum and people that will get behind it then that is probably the time. So I am like okay that's fine. Well when that day comes on your headlining tour, I'll be there stomp stomp clapping right along with you. John: (Laughs) I expect it... front row and you've got to back me up. I appreciate your time John and I am so excited to see as the PUBLIC story continues to be told. John: Yeah man! Thank you so much for your time. That was a great interview. Great questions! Check out more from PUBLIC on their Website, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Read the full article