#yes it varies based on the day and month

[haveihitanerve]

The Jl asking….casually… if bruce has a favorite kid and he answers without looking up, ‘oh yeah its steph’ and they're all flabbergasted because damn they didn't expect him to just admit to it that quickly and/or easily and so later clark is slowly, gently breaking the news to cass/damian that bruce admitted steph is his favorite and barry told wally who told dick and roy who told jason and they don't seem torn up about it at all and then they tell steph and she screams in frustration and throws something at a wall and yells ‘shit is it september already???” and they are utterly confused so a week later or so jason calls them over to the watchtower and goes ‘hey b who’s your favorite kid?’ and bruce looks up and makes dead eye contact with him and says ‘damian.’

[magnificentmicrowave]

songtember day 1: Swans - Lunacy

[foldingfittedsheets]

When deciding who to work for there is a sliding scale of employers that goes from lil mom and pop shops up to corporate monoliths. I have worked at both ends of the spectrum and I can pretty definitively say that tiny businesses are hands down the most insane employers.

The sweet spot is a place that has like 10-20 stores; that’s the best possible work environment. They’ll be polished enough to have protocols that make work structured, but not so bogged down with bureaucracy that nothing can ever get done.

This story is not from that sweet spot. This story is from my time working at Oil and Vinegar. Now, like many little franchise stores, the idea was solid. There was on tap imported olive oil and vinegar and it was really delicious. Top shelf. Unfortunately, each location was like the Wild West because owners varied wildly.

My owner was the human embodiment of Mr. Krabbs. His eyes were just constant dollar signs. Throughout my training he informed me of the price of every single piece of equipment I touched and how much it cost to replace it.

He had cameras set up to watch us, and an app on his phone to access the live feed. He’d call us to ask what we were doing when he’d just checked a camera to make sure we were being honest.

Now, the trouble was he had two locations. His location further south did amazing. It was way more centrally located and got three times the foot traffic. The one I worked in was in the snottiest mall possible in Arizona and consequently the rent was through the roof.

It was not going well for my store. We didn’t get as much traffic, so there was only so much I could do in a day. I could dust, sweep, and wait for customers. I read a lot and was frank when he called to interrogate me. I always asked for additional tasks but he never had any. What could I do to prop up a failing business?

But this man was convinced there was some Secret Reason that the store I was in was doing worse. He crunched numbers, looked at staff, and eventually hit upon the most insane possible solution.

We used too much toilet paper.

We were probably stealing toilet paper! Bleeding him dry one single ply square at a time! How dare we need to use the bathroom?! His south location used half as much toilet paper as we did, we must be thieving little monsters!!!!

Friends. The south location was populated entirely by men. My location had three people on staff who had to sit to pee. It was so blindly transparently the source of the discrepancy but this man was convinced we were making off with toilet paper to bankrupt him.

So he implemented what he believed to be an entirely reasonable response to this base treachery. We were allowed to have one roll of toilet paper. At any given time, one roll was permitted to us. This was so transparently unhinged that we protested but he insisted. If we were low on toilet paper we needed to call him to drop off a roll that he brought from his home. Smiling jovially, he assured us he lived so close by that it would be no problem!

When we needed to call him often for more he started tearing his hair out. What were we using toilet paper for?! Why wasn’t his genius plan to stop our scandalous waste working??!

Finally, the manager, the only man on staff had to pull the owner aside and be like, “Look, man, their bladders are smaller. They need to wipe every time they pee. They need to pee even more on their period. Is this really the hill you want to die on?”

Yes. It was. The manager was fired unrelated reasons and denounced as a traitor. The toilet paper ration lasted until I quit and probably until the store closed six months later.

[y-rhywbeth2]

D&D Vampire Lore Dump #1

Feeding and Diet It's actually more complicated than just "they bite you and eat your blood." Plus what they're able to eat; how often they need to eat; what happens to you if they bite you and what happens to them if they don't feed- spoiler: it's unpleasant. Incidentally, you should reload and kill Cazador again.

(I was comparing stuff across editions and compiling it into something more coherent and then figured I'd info dump about it in case my fixations are useful to somebody out there.)

DISCLAIMER: There are two things to note about the lore presented here: First, while the standard stat block in the monster manual is the default, in terms of lore vampires have this annoying tendency to be incredibly, stupidly varied. They are magical monstrosities ruled by the power of symbolism and superstition above anything else.

The next is that D&D is decades old, spans five editions, several settings and hundreds of writers. One guy establishes a piece of lore, and then the next picks it up goes "nah" and writes something else. I collected info from four different source books, all from different editions, which naturally don't entirely agree on how vampires work. Lore never stays consistent and may contradict itself. You may see information somewhere else from a source I don't have that contradicts what I wrote here. If you read this and like some of this stuff but not other bits, take the good and ditch the rest.

Basically, in D&D, canon is what you decide it is.

Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy | Weaknesses and Cures | Psychology

They only need to feed once in a 24 hour period. Vampires can survive between 3-9 months of starvation, but it's a terrible idea. -

There are three different categories of "Undead Hunger." Vampires have two of them and actually need to consume more than one thing to stay "healthy": Blood and life force. -

The blood is obvious. This is categorised as a "diet dependency." It's required to preserve their bodies and powers, and without it their powers* are suppressed as their bodies begin to shut down. *This refers to the powers a vampire gains with age; they cannot lose power they had as a newborn (the base stat blocks given for vampires and spawn given in the monster manual) A vampire requires the equivalent of 12 hit points of blood a day, or it begins to revert into a corpse-like state. Mentally they slowly regress into a desperate, mindless animal frenzy where they'll kill and drain anything containing blood they can get their hands on. Ultimately, if they don't get any blood then they revert into a corpse and they're trapped in their own body as it begins to wither and mummify. They're trapped in a coma, vaguely aware of the passing of time in flashes of awareness until somehow they are fed blood. If they ever wake up again, they will probably wake up feral and absolutely ravenous. -

Vampires rely on the victim's blood pressure to expel blood from the wound they create, lapping and mouthing at the wound rather than actually sucking on it. Being bitten is a highly pleasurable experience that victims can't help but desire, even when they know they shouldn't. -

While the damage done remains, the wounds from a Vampire bite closes itself quickly after the feeding (assuming you're still alive). It does however leave a mark. The bite mark itself is often "less than half an inch in length", and leaves behind a significant bruise that causes no pain or sensitivity to touch. Other side effects include fatigue and a weakened immune system. -

Vampires typically target sleeping victims (less likely to fight back) and favour the blood of their own race above others. So theoretically, Astarion finds elf blood tastes best. -

Drinking animal blood tastes bland and is health-wise akin to drinking tainted water: yes it might keep you alive in desperate times, but it's ultimately bad for you and will probably make you ill. That said, it has no mechanical detriments and a vampire that's forced to live on animal blood will be just as strong as its kin, but considerably bad tempered about it. -

A vampire's secondary feeding requirement is called an "inescapable craving", which means that if a vampire doesn't get that fix then their hunger begins to devour them instead. The pain is described as a spike boring into the vampire's brain, obscuring their awareness. They begin to obsess over feeding to the exclusion of everything else, they become willing to take ridiculous levels of risk to stop the hunger as they become more and more desperate. As they are consumed they become progressively more feral until they're just a rampaging mindless horror driven only by horrific hunger. For vampires, their inescapable craving is life force, which a vampire leeches from their prey through touch leaving the victim weak. Direct skin contact isn't required, if you're wearing full plate and/or the vampire is wearing gloves and they lay a hand on you they can still drain you. Mechanically these were combat abilities, energy/level draining occurred when a vampire struck a target with their own body (usually their hands). Before 5e hit them with a nerf bat, vampires could permanently weaken you this way (you could lose character levels from this). 5e also seems to have rolled life drain into the biting, so a vampire can consume your blood and energy at the same time. -

Post feeding, a vampire starts to look alive. Their skin is flushed and warm and they feel elated and energetic. In contrast, a vampire that hasn't been feeding properly becomes more corpse like and feels "sluggish" (I'm interpreting that as flu-like symptoms). It's purely emotional however, the vampire is no less capable and dangerous and suffers no mechanical penalties. -

Vampires can feed on other vampires, which is actually more filling than living humanoid blood and gives them the ability to communicate telepathically for a few hours. They don't like it though. If a vampire drinks from another vampire then they can be controlled by that vampire and the link forces them to feel affection for each other against their will until it wears off. The results of both vampires in question feeding on each other is described as "debilitating" since they both paradoxically become enslaved to the other's will and forced to "love" each other creating an absolute dysfunctional mess of control, obsession and resentment. The good news is that it only lasts a few hours. -

Some vampires can eat regular food (no nutritional value in it for them) while others would regurgitate it if they tried. As they retain their tongues, vampires can also taste food. That said, it's a bad idea for them to eat garlic, even if they can eat solid food. -

Some kinds of vampires don't drink blood. There's all kinds of weird and wonderful stuff a vampire might be required to consume instead. Spinal fluid stands out. Or the bit about ones who drain the ocular fluid from your eyes. Gale might find interesting things to talk about with the magic eating ones who prey on mages. They're much less common, probably something to do with most people not finding that very sexy. I don't think any of them exist on Toril.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: California Sheephead Wrasse

A lot of people through history and the modern day have an overly simplistic view about sex, both in the sense of biological sex (that is, what gametes something produces) and sex as in the act of mating. A lot of people think that sex is just a strict binary between males and females, but nature is far more diverse and varied than that (even in humans. Intersex people do exist after all). Today I'm showcasing one of the animals that completely goes against the alleged sex binary: the California Sheephead Wrasse. And yes, this is a pride post.

(Image: a male California Sheephead Wrasse in a tank in the Monterey Bay Aquarium. It is a large fish with a bulbous head. The head and tail are black, midsection is pink, and the belly and chin are white. End ID)

The California Sheephead (Semicossyphus pulcher) is a large fish in the Wrasse family of Labridae. They are sexually dimorphic, with the males and females appearing distinct from each other in size, shape, and color. Males are larger than females, reaching up to 91 cm (3 ft) and 16 kg (35 lbs), though there is quite a bit of size variation based on food availability. They have flatter faces than females thanks to a bulbous bump on the forehead. This lump is the namesake of the fish, since it allegedly make it look like it has a sheep's head. I personally don't see it at all. Males have black heads and tails with a white chin and underbelly and pink midsection Females are smaller and colored silvery to a dull pink all over except for their white chins and underbellies. There isn't really a maximum size or weight for females for reasons I'll get into later. The fish have large canine teeth that protrude from the mouth and modified throat bones that form a grinding apparatus called the throat plate.

(Image: a female California Sheephead. It has a less bulbous head than the male and is a pale pink all over, except for the white belly and chin. End ID)

Sheepheads, like many wrasses, are sequential hermaphrodites. A sequential hermaphrodite can transition between sexes during its life (as opposed to a simultaneous hermaphrodite, who can produce both sperm and eggs at the same time). Every California Sheephead is born female and some will become male later in life, making them protogynous. Protogyny is the most common form of hermaphroditism in fish, with over 75% of known sequentially hermaphroditic fish species being protogynous. This transition is a one-way process, males will not turn back into females. The transition is triggered by a number of factors, primarily size and the local availability of males. If there are not enough males in the area, the largest female will transition to male to fill the role. This transition takes between 2 weeks and a few months depending on availability of food and other conditions (temperature seems to play a role) and the fish will be capable of producing sperm before fully assuming the male morphology.

(Image a male and female Sheephead swimming next to each other. The female is roughly half the size of the male. End ID)

During mating season (July-September), males will pick a territory and claim all nearby females as mates. A younger male without a territory may challenge an alpha male to try to claim his territory. These fights are often resolved with threat posturing, but if neither male backs down, they will fight with biting and raking teeth against the opponent. During mating season, females will release batches of 375,000 eggs almost daily for males to fertilize. During this time, the alpha male will patrol his territory to mate as much as possible while chasing off smaller males who may attempt to sneakily fertilize some of his female's eggs. The larvae are planktonic for their first 34-78 days, and will sink as they grow. Juveniles have a different coloration to the adults. They are orange, with a white stripe running down the body and dark spots on the fins. The average maximum age of a California Sheephead is 21 years, but the oldest individual on record was 53 at the time of capture.

(Image: a juvenile Sheephead. It is a small, orange fish with a white stripe running from eye to tail and black spots on the pelvic, anal, dorsal, and tail fins. End ID)

The California Sheephead lives on rocky reefs and kelp forests from southern California to the Baja peninsula and Gulf of California. They prefer shallow water between 3 and 30 meters (10 - 100 ft) deep, though males will occasionally venture deeper. Sheepheads are predators that hunt hard-bodies invertebrates including urchins, shelled molluscs, and crabs. Juveniles hunt smaller prey such as sponges, bryozoans, and barnacles. The protruding canines give the fish a better grip when trying to pry food off of rocks. They crush the hard shells of the prey with sharp teeth before swallowing. The shells are then further ground down by the throat plates. Smaller individuals have been known to break open urchins too large to bit by picking them up and hammering them into rocks. Sheepheads play an important role in kelp forest ecosystems by keeping urchin populations down. Urchins eat kelp and without predators keeping their numbers in check, can reduce kelp forests to urchin barrens. Sheepheads are known to have a high site fidelity, meaning they will return to the same places over and over. They will maintains a sleeping spot (usually a crevice they can hide in or rock they can hide under) and return to the same places to hunt. They are diurnal and return to their sleeping spots at night to avoid predators.

(Image: a male Sheephead trying to pick up a sea urchin with tis mouth. End ID)

California Sheephead Wrasses are classified as vulnerable to extinction by the IUCN. Their primary threat is overfishing. The Sheepheads have been commercially fished since the 1800s and their numbers have dropped. The hermaphroditic nature of the species actually makes things worse. Commercial fishers are incentivized to catch the largest fish and the largest Sheepheads are the males and females that are likely to transition to male. Unlike with other species, there aren't small males around to make up for the loss of large males to fishing since the small fish are the females. The loss of males and the largest females (who are the ones most likely to transition to male) means there aren't enough males around during mating season to keep the population high enough. The introduction of marine protected areas and fishing regulations have helped the population recover. The loss of the Sheepheads is a big deal since they're one of the species doing the most to keep the kelp forests healthy by eating urchins. Natural predators of the Sheepheads include sharks, sea lions, and giant sea bass.

(Image: a fisherman holding a male Sheephead on a boat. The large canines of the fish are particularly visible. End ID)

[honeypiehotchner]

Devil’s Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part one

It’s the way that I am BURSTING with excitement about posting this fic 😈🫣

Warnings: nothing here really, just talk of Haley and Jack’s deaths

Don’t forget to follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be notified when a new chapter is posted!!

One: All along we called it normal — “The News” by Paramore

“Please say your name and rank for the record.” The tape clicks. Across from you, Strauss sighs.

“Supervisory Special Agent Y/N L/N,” you reply confidently, “with the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia.”

“How long have you been with the BAU?” Strauss asks.

“Four years.”

She takes the seat across from you, crossing her legs, and opening a file folder. “Did you work under Agent Hotchner the entire time?”

“Yes ma’am,” you reply, lacing your fingers together on the table. “I did.”

“How would you describe your relationship to Agent Hotchner during this time?”

“Professional,” you say firmly, knowing exactly what she is trying to get you to say. “Strictly professional.”

+++

When Hotch returned to the BAU’s offices, he headed straight into a meeting with Strauss. She didn’t know he was coming, and a meeting wasn’t scheduled, but he knew if he went straight to his office that she’d call for him immediately. He thought he might as well beat her to it.

He stepped off the elevator and turned toward Strauss’s office. She locked eyes with him through the glass walls of her office, her expression frozen in shock.

“What are you doing here?” Strauss asked, right to the point, barely letting Hotch shut the door first.

“I’m here to get back to work,” Hotch replied, just as blunt.

Strauss was unamused. “Did you even think about the retirement offer I showed you?”

“I did. I’m declining it.” It was a nice offer, really, but it made no sense. He’d have more free time than ever before, but he didn’t need free time. He needed to be occupied constantly if he was ever going to make it through this mountain of grief.

“It’s been two weeks,” Strauss stated. “You need a month of bereavement, Aaron. Minimum.”

“You’re getting two weeks,” he said with a defiant shrug.

Sensing a losing battle, Strauss caved, settling on a compromise. “You’ll need to pass a psych eval with flying colors, then.”

“I will.”

“Today,” she said. “You’re going to wait here until they arrive.”

Hotch put up no fight. “Alright.” He turned and took a seat on her couch while she placed a phone call, ordering an immediate evaluation.

It took an hour for the psychologist to arrive, and they appeared to have rushed there. In truth, Strauss made the situation sound much more dire than it was.

Hotch stood and shook the psychologist’s hand, already securing a good impression before the evaluation had begun. Strauss led them down the hall to a conference room for some privacy.

Hotch hadn’t been in many psych evals, but he was well aware of how they work. Passing this one was easy, much to Strauss’ displeasure, and he was cleared for work by the afternoon.

“I will be watching you, Aaron,” Strauss warned.

“Don’t you already?” he quipped, pushing through her office doors.

+++

The team was in a frenzy when Hotch walked through the BAU’s glass doors, wearing his usual suit and tie, briefcase in hand. Like nothing had happened.

“Is that…?”

“Already?”

“Why is he here?”

You lifted your head from your paperwork and stared, jaw dropping ever so slightly as Hotch walked past your desk. Your eyes followed him up the stairs to his office, unlocking the door and flicking the lights on.

“Did you know he was coming back today?” Emily asked from her seat next to you.

You shook your head, tearing your eyes away from your boss. “No. Not at all. Hasn’t it only been two weeks?”

“If that,” JJ said.

“Is he even allowed to be here?” Morgan asked.

“Standard bereavement time is three to seven days,” Reid quoted, chewing nervously on his nails. “But it varies based on the relationship to the deceased. He should’ve gotten at least a month, or maybe two, since it was Haley and Jack…”

“He definitely shouldn’t be here,” you murmured to yourself mostly, but Emily voiced her agreement.

“He needs more time,” she said quietly, shaking her head in disbelief. “We know he’s a workaholic, but this is…”

“Way too soon,” you finished, and JJ nodded.

Rossi exited his office next door and walked into Hotch’s, immediately embracing him in a hug. You couldn’t hear what they said, but Hotch cracked a small, barely-there smile. It was more than you expected.

Hotch turned his head and locked eyes with you, and you looked away, embarrassed. You really shouldn’t stare. You just didn’t expect him to be back so soon.

You returned to your work, feeling like a kid caught red-handed. Minutes passed before you started to hear Rossi and Hotch’s voices a lot clearer, as they walked down the stairs into the bullpen.

“Hey,” you heard Emily say, smiling gently.

“Long time no see, boss,” Morgan joked lightly.

You lifted your head again, seeing Hotch say a small, “Hi,” and nod. He looked down at you, offering another nod.

“Hey,” you murmured. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright,” Hotch said, directing his answer to the entire team. “I’m glad to be back. I need something to keep me busy.”

You nodded solemnly. You figured that was the reason, but it didn’t make it any better. You still felt like he should’ve waited a few more weeks at least.

“Well, we missed you,” Rossi said, filling the silence.

Everyone murmured their words of agreement, even you. You probably missed Hotch more than anyone else, but it wasn’t a competition.

“I have some cases to review,” JJ said, gesturing in the direction of her office. “I was just about to bring them to Rossi, but if you…”

“We can review them together,” Rossi offered, nodding with Hotch.

“Sure,” Hotch said. “Just bring them up to my office.”

“Coffee?” Rossi suggested. “I’m sure the pile is as high as ever.”

Hotch seemed strangely comforted by the fact, and by everyone’s attempt to behave as normal as possible, as everyone would have worked before Haley and Jack’s death.

The two men fell into easy conversation, as old friends tend to do, and headed over to brew a fresh pot of coffee. JJ headed to her office to retrieve the case files. Emily, Reid, and Morgan shared looks with you before sinking, defeated, back into their chairs.

Garcia came through the glass doors, her empty mug in hand, and stopped in her tracks when she saw Hotch standing in the small kitchen.

“Sir,” she said. “What are you doing— I mean— Welcome back!” She hugged him, unable to help herself.

“Thank you, Penelope,” Hotch offered a tiny smile, hugging her back.

Garcia set her mug down on the kitchen counter and came over to share her confusion with the rest of the team.

“I saw his psych eval get posted,” she whispered hastily. “What is going on?”

You shrugged. “He said he’s ready to be back.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Babygirl, we know,” Morgan shushed her. “He won’t listen.”

You snorted, knowing that was the truth. Above anything else, Aaron was stubborn. You didn’t know why you didn’t expect him to pull something like this. In fact, you felt stupid for not seeing it coming. You should’ve known.

You gave him a few weeks, depending on how many cases came through that needed the BAU’s attention, but nothing more. He’d realize he needed a break eventually, and then he’d most likely take a month off.

Or he’d retire. But you didn’t want to think about that.

You wanted him to have his time to grieve and heal, but you didn’t want to lose him entirely. The BAU wouldn’t be the same without him.

You were not alone in that sentiment, either. Garcia asked you a few days earlier if you thought Hotch might take Strauss’s retirement offer. You didn’t know what to tell her, not really. If he did, you’d understand. But you’d miss him even more than you had these past two weeks.

+++

Your relationship with Hotch had always toed the line of being inappropriate, ever since you began at the BAU a few years ago.

After his divorce from Haley was finalized and she seemingly wanted nothing to do with him, you felt less guilty about your lingering looks. The guilt evaporated entirely when Hotch began sharing the looks, and added small touches.

At first, it was nothing to concern yourself with.

He always sat next to you on the jet, so these times were no different — although he began sitting closer. Thighs nearly touching, forearms brushing, always bordering on too much, but never enough to raise any suspicions.

His fingers brushed against yours while he handed you files, your bulletproof vest, or a piece of evidence. He started putting his body in front of yours when gunfire was involved, even though you both had the same level of protection on your bodies.

And when he could, he paired you with him for interviews, interrogations, or general splitting of the team. The two of you never shared a hotel room, but he and Rossi always get their own rooms. You did notice, however, that your room was often next to his.

You were tempted, many times, to knock on his door, but you never did. Foyet’s terror began, and then Hotch’s family was targeted, and his attention was torn away from you.

Not that you blamed or resented him for that, of course. It made perfect sense for Hotch to turn his focus to his ex-wife and his son when a serial killer was after them. Disappointment crept into your body, but you pushed it away. Bigger problems were at hand.

You comforted Hotch as best you could during those times without crossing any lines.

“We’ll get him,” you remember saying one night, among other things that you probably shouldn’t have uttered. But your words worked and he thanked you for talking to him, even though you’re sure Rossi and others said similar things.

We’ll get him, you all had said. We’ll catch Foyet.

And you did, but there was no “we” involved. Aaron knew where Foyet was going and was already headed there by the time the team figured it out. He was on a one-man mission, no matter what anyone says to try and make it seem less so.

With Hotch back in the office, feelings were resurfacing, though you tried quieting them. The circumstances now seemed even more inappropriate than before, so you kept yourself under a close watch.

It didn’t help, though, that Aaron had gone back to his old ways.

When the team boarded the jet for the first case since his return, you took your seat first, expecting him to sit elsewhere, but he took the seat directly to your right, effectively boxing you in. Not to mention, he was closer than he had ever sat, and you didn’t know what to do with that.

So, you behaved as normal.

“Alright,” you exhaled. “Let’s figure out what the hell we’re dealing with here.”

The case was standard, reminiscent of a thousand others you had worked on already. In a way, you were glad that this was the first case Hotch was back on. You thought maybe it would help him to work on something so familiar.

Your hopes were confirmed when the jet landed, and the team headed to the precinct. Hotch was behaving as his usual Unit Chief self.

+++

It didn’t take long for your relationship with Hotch to get back to where it was, and for it to take the step further that you wanted it to way back then.

It only took two cases, three months, for you to be in bed with him.

You didn’t knock on his door like you always wanted to. He knocked on yours.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, your lips just barely touching his cheek. He hovered over you, his arms bent at the elbows and resting on either side of your head. His entire body was pressed into you, the weight comforting.

His heavy breathing filled your ears. “I know.” He rested his forehead against yours.

“You’re drunk,” you said, not upset by the fact, just aware of it.

“I’m not,” he said, shaking his head, but you could smell the alcohol on his lips. You could taste it.

He wasn’t lying. He had one drink, one glass of whiskey, but that was it. He wasn’t drunk. He was buzzed. He’d remember this in the morning. And he wanted to.

“If you’re not,” you murmured, “then what are you doing here, Aaron?”

He lifted his head, his eyes raking over every inch of your face. “What I’ve wanted to for a long time,” he said. “If Foyet hadn’t come back, I would’ve…”

He shook his head, and you shushed him, wanting him to stop this train of thought before it continued. “Don’t. Shhhh, don’t, we don’t have to talk about that right now,” you cradled his face in your hands. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

He nodded. He thought for a moment, regret and shame passing over his face. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, even though you hated it, even though you really wanted to. But you knew it was the right decision for the night. “You should sleep.” You paused, brushing your fingers through his hair. “You should stay.”

“Can I?” he asked softly, like he knew he shouldn’t. “Just for tonight?”

“Yes,” you murmured. “Stay.”

He did.

[thisisthinprivilege]

How can I overcome internalized fatphobia? How can I not hate what I look like when I'm fat?

This is going to be a different process for everyone, so I'm not sure what will work for you. I will let you know what worked for me, and hopefully you find it helpful.

Deprogramming Step One: Coming to grips with having been programmed in the first place. Beauty standards change from age to age, they are not inborn as far as our research is able to conclude. There's perhaps a weak preference for facial symmetry, but that's about it. Weight-based beauty standards have not only varied wildly through human history, they vary in our very own era, between-cultures. Often what we believe we find beautiful has been programmed into us from a very early age. There's no conspiracy, it's simply how cultural preferences are transmitted within-culture: through the adults we look up to, media, and reinforced by peers. That's not to say deprogramming is a simple matter. It's very difficult. I wonder now, almost 15 years after starting my own journey to deprogram myself, whether who I find beautiful or attractive is rooted in beauty standards I saw reflected as a kid or teen.

Deprogramming Step Two: Define and avoid thin-centric messaging. A big part of this for me was controlling the media I consumed. I unsubscribed to cable, for instance, because of the intrusive and omnipresent weight loss ads. That was 15 years ago, but it's surprising how similar some streaming services/channels are in terms of ad length and intrusiveness these days. Unfortunately, tiktoks/reels aren't entirely controllable. Even though I don't consume weight loss or diet content, weight loss/diet tiktoks/reels pop up occasionally. Besides ads, you should also consider whether your magazines, books, movies, and shows over-focus on the stories of thin people, or demonize fat people. Obviously, stop watching exploitative shows that turn the lives of fat people into sideshows or sob stories. More controversially, you might want to temporarily unsubscribe or mute fat activist content. Fat activism is a highly stressful space where we confront the hatred of fat people explicitly. It's not great for deprogramming thin-centric messaging, because fat activists will be talking about thin-centric messaging from a critical perspective. Take a break, for a while.

Deprogramming Step Three: Exposure to fat-positive content. This is the fun part of the process, where you get a chance to rewrite the aesthetic coding in your brain! I suggest searching out fat models who wear the kind of clothing you like, fat role models who share your interests, fat positive videos showcasing fat people doing amazing things, fat positive art, fat positive fiction and movies, and so on. Fatshion is full of fat positivity. Be wary of "body positive" content, as it can still be subtly or explicitly fatphobic. I warn you, after a few months of exposure to a different aesthetic, thin-centric media is gonna look hella strange. You'll go to see some romcom-flavor-of-the-month movie and be like, "Where are all the fat people? Why is everyone super skinny?"

Deprogramming Step Four: From theory to practice. This step is about starting to wear the clothes you want to wear, being loud and proud to exist as a fat person in public, being romantically bolder if romance is your thing, being more assertive and confident in your body, traveling to the places you've always wanted to go, doing things you were holding back doing before, etc. You may need to dwell in Step Three for a while, or revisit it over and again, in order to complete Step Four. This doesn't mean becoming an activist. This means becoming your authentic self without fat-related qualms. Yes, you will still be constrained by the greater world around you. Traveling, going out to eat, dating, interviewing for jobs, even going to a fucking concert will present constraints and bigotries that smaller people (everything else held equal) don't have to face. But you can now see them as constraints placed on you, not as constraints you place on yourself or that are in any way deserved. Hopefully, you will be able to face them without it destroying your sense of self-worth.

Deprogramming Step Five: The authentic self...? We know that as fat people we are not morally or otherwise inferior to thin(ner) people. So what does it mean to leave our best and most authentic lives, as fat people? This is the human question, that all humans share with each other equally. We are connected to each other, each on our own grand journey to answer this question. When you are able to separate the sociocultural difficulty of being a fat person in a fat-hating society from your own life journey, you have one less barrier to manage in answering the great human question. At this stage, you'll feel calm and comfortable in your body, and surprised when people point out your fatness or treat you differently for it. They're distracted by false moral categories, while you have better things to do. Does anyone ever permanently dwell in this stage? Probably not. But I feel like this most of the time, now. It takes a lot to drag me back into the world where one of the worst things you can call another human is "fatty." I've got books to read and write, math to learn, art to create. A life to live, where my possibilities are not defined by the size of my body.

-ArteToLife

[campingwiththecharmings]

Invisible String

AN: This is another one I started back in July of 2022 and am just now finishing! I had intended for it to be cute and kinda funny but it ended up being a little...I don't think angsty is the right word, but it has a little more feels than I'd anticipated lol. I dunno, I like how it turned out. Hope you all do too! ❤️

(Un-beta’d)

You're a new medic in the Resistance and you keep running into a certain pilot in the medbay.

Rated: T Words: 6,019 Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Warnings: feelings of loneliness, mutual pining, a little awkwardness (but like the sweet kind not the cringey kind) (i hope lol), references to violence, injuries of varying degrees AO3

——————

The Resistance base on D’Qar was bigger than you’d expected. Then again, most things were bigger than the little outpost you’d called home for the last few years. When you’d heard HQ needed medics, you’d jumped at the chance to leave the backwater moon you’d been stationed on. Now that you’re here, though, you’re wondering if you’d made the right decision. Every day here is somehow more chaotic than the last and, while you feel like you’re adapting pretty well, you’re a little lonely. Sure, you’re friendly with people, especially the other medics, but making friends isn’t exactly at the top of most people’s to-do lists these days. Everyone’s too busy. Too busy to show you around the base, too busy to get a drink with you, too busy to get to know you….

Needless to say, it’s been a rough couple of months.

“Hey,” someone calls, dragging you from your thoughts, “Can I get some help over here, please?”

Two men enter the bustling medbay, one of which seems to be supporting the other. Without a second thought, you rush over, pulling on a pair of gloves as you go.

“What happened?” you ask the man who appears to be uninjured, gesturing him over to a free bed in your section.

“He hit his head,” the man says, nodding toward his friend as he helps him sit on the bed.

"I swear to the Maker that ladder came out of nowhere," the other man mutters, grimacing a little as the gash on his forehead oozes slightly.

You nod, grabbing a clean towel and gently pressing it against the wound. The man hisses, flinching at the pressure.

“Sorry,” you mutter, chewing on your lip as you search your pockets for your work light with your free hand. When you find it, you turn your attention back to the uninjured man. 

“Hold this,” you instruct, indicating the towel on the injured man’s forehead. He does as asked, watching as you tilt his friend’s chin up and briefly shine your light in his eyes.

“What’s that do?” the injured man asks, squinting into the light.

You move it a couple more times before clicking it off and putting it away. “I'm checking you for a head injury.”

“And?” the other man asks, looking a little concerned.

You glance at him, smiling softly as you search the cart beside the bed for a bacta patch. “He’ll be fine.”

“See, Finn? I told you,” the injured man grumbles before pushing himself up from the bed. 

“Whoa,” you say, bracing your hands on his shoulders when he wobbles a little, “Take it easy.”

Your touch pulls his attention to you and he stops, gaze locking with yours. Something in his eyes makes you feel seen, exposed, and your face warms a little.

“Yeah, Poe, take it easy,” Finn scolds as he helps his friend sit back down.

You look away, mentally shaking yourself as you prepare the bacta patch for his head.

“He wasn’t gonna come, you know,” Finn tells you, pointing at his friend. “I had to practically drag him here.”

You briefly glance at the two men and see Poe rolls his eyes. “That’s because I’m fine. Right, Doc?”

“You are fine, yes,” you agree, ignoring the (incorrect) honorific as you gingerly place the patch over the gash in his forehead, “But it doesn’t hurt to make sure.”

Finn makes a noise of agreement and you bite back a smile as you finish applying the bandage.

“Well, you’re all set,” you say, meeting Poe’s eyes with a teasing brow. “Try not to walk into any more ladders.”

Finn snorts, clapping his friend on the back. Poe chuckles, looking sheepish as he briefly glances away from your amused gaze. “I’ll do my best.”

—

You’re bored.

It’s the middle of the night, you’re the only medic on shift, and you’re bored.

You sigh, shifting on your stool then wincing when the muscles in your lower back protest. The metal wheels squeak as you stand and stretch with a groan. It’s been slow tonight, which you guess is a good thing, but it certainly isn’t making your shift go by any quicker.

Just as you’re wondering how you’re going to spend the next few hours, the medbay door slides open. You turn, gazing at a coughing, soot-covered man and a white and orange droid.

“Maker, what happened?” you ask, ushering him over to the closest bed.

“Engine fire,” he explains between coughing fits.

You nod, quickly grabbing a breath mask from the cabinet and racing back over to him.

“Here,” you say, helping him fit the mask over his mouth and nose.

He nods in thanks as another coughing fit causes his dark curls to fall into his eyes.

“Deep, slow breaths, okay?” you instruct softly, a soothing hand on his shoulder.

He nods again, coughs subsiding a little as his breathing steadies. You study him in silence for a moment when you realize you’ve met before.

“Poe, right?” you guess, smiling slightly when he meets your eyes and nods a third time. “Are you injured anywhere else?”

“Don’t think so,” he croaks, his voice slightly muffled by the breath mask. “Didn’t burn my eyebrows off, did I?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No, it appears they’ve been spared.”

“Well, thank the Maker,” he jokes as another cough wracks his body.

The droid beside him beeps angrily and Poe sighs wearily. You bite back a smile, fighting the urge to chuckle at the interaction. “What’s he saying?”

He waves a hand at you as if to say it doesn’t matter, and this results in even more beeps from the droid.

“Seems like he’s a little upset with you,” you deduce, shooting him a knowing look.

He scoffs, his breathing almost normal now. “That’s an understatement,” he mutters, briefly glancing at the little droid. 

“Why? What’d you do?”

“What makes you think I did something?”

Silent, you raise a teasing brow at him.

He huffs a laugh after a moment, the action sending him into another, albeit less intense, coughing fit.

“Easy,” you say softly, adjusting the seal of the mask on his face. 

He nods, his eyes briefly locking with yours before his attention is pulled away once more by his droid. It beeps at him again, this time sounding more morose than angry. Poe sighs, his shoulders sagging a little as he reaches down to lay a hand on the little droid’s head. “I know, buddy. I’m glad you’re okay too.”

Your heart swells at the exchange and you briefly turn away to give them a little privacy. After a minute or two, you turn to check the gauge on the breath mask. His oxygen levels are now above normal, despite the occasional coughing fit, so you remove it and set it aside.

“Small sips,” you instruct, handing him a cup of water.

Poe mumbles a thanks and takes it from you, his fingers brushing against yours. You ignore the jolt that zips through you at his touch, turning away again to busy yourself with your next task. 

When you return a moment later with a damp cloth, he furrows his brow in confusion. “What’s that for?”

“I just want to make sure there are no other injuries before I discharge you,” you say, smiling as you gesture to his soot-covered face.

“Right,” he laughs, shifting a little on the bed. 

You angle his chin up and begin gently wiping the grime off his face. You work in silence, feeling Poe’s eyes on you as you turn his head this way and that. When the cloth you’re using is no longer clean, you stop, turning away with the intention of getting another. As a result, you almost trip over Poe’s droid.

“Oh,” you exclaim in surprise as the droid rolls back a bit, cocking its head to look up at you. “Hello.”

He beeps at you happily and you chuckle.

“Sorry. This is BB-8,” Poe says from behind you, fondness in his voice.

“It’s nice to meet you, BB-8,” you say, introducing yourself as you crouch down to the droid’s level. “Is it safe to assume you’re the reason Poe still has his eyebrows?”

Poe snorts and you can’t help the warmth that unfurls in your chest at the sound. BB-8 beeps excitedly at you again in response and you find yourself wishing that you understood Binary.

“How long have you two been together?” you ask, turning your head to direct the question to Poe.

He shrugs. “At this point, I can’t really remember a time when we weren’t.”

Your smile is a little sad as you stand to your feet, his brown eyes warm when you meet them. “Sounds nice. Always having someone, I mean.” 

There’s a pause as you turn, walking to the cabinet and rifling through it in search of another cloth. When you find one, you move toward the sink in the corner to wet it, squeezing out the excess liquid so it doesn’t drip all over the floor. You lower yourself back onto your stool upon your return, rolling it in front of him. When you meet his eyes again, that something is there, the something you’d seen when you’d first met, and you know that he sees you.

You smile numbly, averting your gaze as you begin to clean the soot from his face again. 

“You just transferred here, right?” he asks, his voice soft.

Your eyes flick back to his briefly before refocusing on your task. “Yeah, a few months ago.”

He makes a contemplative noise as you finish cleaning the soot from his skin. “How are you liking it?”

You sniff a laugh, turning slightly to prepare bacta patches for the minor scrapes and singes on his face. “We’re at war. Is anyone liking it?”

“Fair point,” he chuckles, absently drumming his fingers on his thighs. “There are still things to enjoy though, even in the midst of war.”

“Such as?” 

“Family, friends…flying.”

“Sounds like a personal motto,” you tease, applying the last bacta patch.

He chuckles again, the sound filling you with a giddiness you haven’t felt in what feels like years. “I guess it kinda is.”

You smile, smoothing the edges of the patches over his skin one more time before allowing your eyes to meet his again. There’s a warmth and kindness there that makes you want to curl up in his lap like a loth cat. There’s something else too, something you can’t quite name, something that makes your stomach flip and your palms sweat. You’re staring, you know you are, but you can’t make yourself look away. He’s close, so close, you hadn’t realized how much, your body unconsciously leaning toward him, toward his comforting warmth—

“Also the smoked lizard.”

You blink, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

He snorts, briefly flicking his eyes away as a flush climbs up his neck. “It’s another reason to like it here. The smoked lizard.”

You laugh, chewing on your bottom lip. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

A slightly awkward silence falls between you and you will yourself to be professional, to be normal for two kriffing seconds.

“Well, um, you’re good to go, I think,” you say, rising from your stool and picking up the tray beside the bed. “I trust BB-8’ll stop you from getting into any more trouble. Tonight, at least.”

The droid beeps cheekily and Poe smiles, nodding as he stands to his feet. “Thanks, Doc.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you say, fingers clenching on the tray as you meet his eyes again. “Take care of yourself this time, will you?”

“I’ll try,” he chuckles, rubbing that back of his neck. “Come on, buddy.”

The little droid whistles and beeps, swiveling his head toward you as if saying it’s own thanks, before rolling out the medbay door on Poe’s heels.

—

“Hey, someone’s asking for you.”

You look up from your data pad, head still running through the details of the medical chart you’d just been reading. “What?”

The medic speaking to you is new and you’re still having trouble remembering her name. Taia, maybe?

“Someone’s asking for you. In the front,” she repeats, gesturing back toward the medbay.

Your brow furrows in confusion. “For me?”

She blinks at you. “Yeah.”

“Who is it?” you ask, oblivious to her agitation.

She sighs, gesturing again to the medbay. “Will you just…come out here, please? Maker.”

You watch as she walks away, moderately amused by her impatience. As you follow her out onto the floor, you look in the direction of your assigned section that day and see—

“Poe?”

His head shoots up at the sound of his name, brown eyes warming with recognition as they lock with yours. A smile curls on his lips as you head over to him, one that makes something tingle beneath your skin.

“Hey,” he says, raising his hand awkwardly in a wave.

You do a quick once over and don’t notice any obvious injuries. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He nods, smile shifting into something closer to a cringe. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just uh–”

Instead of finishing, he gestures to his hand, which you now see he’s holding somewhat awkwardly in his lap.

“Oh, what happened?” you ask, pulling on your gloves.

He shrugs, averting his gaze like he’s embarrassed about something. “It’s nothing really. I was fixing something on my ship and got a little cut. I just don’t want it to get infected, you know?”

You nod, reaching out to gently take his hand. “Of course, I understand.”

He nods, swallowing thickly as you peel back his fingers to assess the damage. You bring his hand closer to your face to get a closer look, gently turning it this way and that.

“Right,” you begin, meeting his gaze again. “It’s not bad, like you said, but it is a little deep so I think we should put in a few stitches just to be on the safe side.”

He nods again, licking his lips. “Whatever you say, Doc, you’re the expert.”

You smile, gaze flicking briefly to his mouth. You avert your eyes immediately, skin warming with embarrassment as you turn away to retrieve the items you need from your tray.

“Alright, just, don’t move okay? This might sting a bit,” you instruct, guiding his hand to rest on the bed beside him.

“Okay,” he mumbles, watching as you push his fingers away from his palm.

You work on cleaning the cut first, making sure there’s nothing there that could cause an infection. Once that’s finished, you carefully weave in a few stitches and finish up with a bacta patch.

“There you go,” you say, before looking up at him with a smile. 

He smiles back, butterflies erupting in your belly at the sight. “Thanks.”

You nod, maintaining eye contact for Maker knows how long (you certainly don’t), before the clatter of a tray overturning brings you back to reality. Your eyelashes flutter as you quickly stand with the intention of gaining some distance, only to end up even closer than you had been.

“I, um–,” you begin, finally tearing your gaze from his, “I’m going to give you a salve to put on your hand once the stitches dissolve. It’ll help with scarring.”

“Great.”

You smile awkwardly as you turn to head toward the supply cabinet in the corner. On the way over, you berate yourself for behaving so unprofessionally, staring at Poe like some lovesick kid with a crush. You pull the cabinet door open when you reach it, staring blankly at the shelves for a moment. You're not sure what it is about him that has you acting this way, but you really need to nip it in the bud; he’s here for medical attention, not you.

Resolved, you take a breath, grabbing the salve and heading back over your patient.

“Here you go,” you say, annoyed at yourself by how breathless you sound as you hold the salve out to him.

As he takes the small container from you, his fingers brush yours, causing your gaze to automatically return to his. His eyes are as warm as his smile, glowing with something you can’t quite place, something you want to drown in.

“Right,” he rasps after a moment, clearing his throat as he stands to his feet. “Well, I don’t wanna take up anymore of your time. Thanks again, Doc.”

“Any time,” you respond, far more nonchalant than you’re actually feeling.

He turns to wave as he walks out the door, almost running into one of the other medics. You bite back a laugh as he apologizes, the tips of his ears reddening a little in embarrassment. He catches your eye one more time before leaving, an almost shy smile on his lips, and you allow yourself to consider, just for a moment, that maybe you were wrong, maybe he was here to see you. You smile at the thought, however unlikely it might be.

—

Most of the pilots are off world training today, so the base is pretty empty. As a result, Dr. Kalonia had given most of you the morning off. You greet your fellow medics as you make your way to the back to stash your things, smiling amiably as you make eye contact with a few of them. They mumble their “good mornings” back, already tired from their late night or early morning shifts. When you return to the front, you check the clipboard to find that day’s assignment. As you hurry over to your station, you mentally run through the list of things you need to check your medical cart for. So lost in your thoughts are you, you don’t even realize there’s already a patient at your station until you reach it. 

“Hey,” you say, a little surprised. 

“Hey,” Poe responds, grimacing slightly.

“Back already, huh?” you say, a teasing eyebrow raised. “Are you really this accident prone or did you just need an excuse to come see me again?” 

He chuckles, averting his gaze as a flush creeps its way up his neck. 

“I, uh, I think my foot might be broken actually,” he responds, shooting a mildly dirty look in the direction of BB-8. “BB ran over it.”

The droid beeps indignantly at the accusation, drawing your attention as you pull on a pair of gloves. Whatever BB says makes Poe scoff.

“Hey buddy, you’re a lot heavier than you realize.”

The droid beeps again, head wobbling back and forth indignantly and you have to bite back a laugh when Poe shoots you a mildly exasperated look..

“How ‘bout I just take a look,” you say, sitting on your stool and rolling it in front of him. 

He nods, hissing a little when you remove his boot and sock, setting them on the stretcher beside him.

“Does it hurt anywhere specifically or just all over?” you ask, examining his foot for any signs of bruising.

“My toes. They’re definitely broken.”

BB-8 beeps again, almost sarcastically, you think, and Poe sends another glare in the droid’s direction. “I am not being dramatic.”

You bite back a smile as they continue to bicker back and forth, your attention fixed on the appendages in question. Poe has no adverse reaction to your prodding and wiggling, and you’re beginning to think that BB might actually be right, until you get to his pinky toe. 

He halts midargument, sucking in a breath and grabbing at his leg. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, quickly grabbing some medical tape from your cart and slowly wrapping it around both his injured toe and the one beside it.

He muffles a groan of pain as you complete your task, gently lowering his foot off of your lap. 

“Okay?” you ask with a slight grimace.

He takes a steadying breath and nods. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” you say, offering him a small smile. “It’s hard to know for sure if it’s broken given our lack of equipment but I taped it up just in case. Just stay off of it as much as you can and redo the tape every few days until your pain subsides.”

He nods again as you finish, meeting your gaze as you hand him a roll of medical tape. “Got it. Thanks.”

His hair is a little unkempt, stray curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. You try not to stare, you really do, but Maker he’s just so pretty and you’re only human.

It’s then that you notice that he’s staring at you too, brown eyes slowly roaming your face as if taking in every detail, his brows furrowed a little in concentration. Your heart skips in your chest at the realization, warmth flaring beneath your skin—

Does Poe Dameron like you?

Sure, you’d joked about it earlier, but the thought had never seriously crossed your mind before; why would he like you, anyway? You’ve only met a few times before this and none of them were outside of the medbay. No, he’s just accident prone, you think, your stomach sinking with disappointment. 

You break away first, shaking your head slightly, as if to shake off your thoughts. Your movement brings him back to reality too, you assume, because he looks away almost immediately after you do, eyes falling to study his hands. 

Before either one of you can say anything else, BB-8 beeps at Poe, whose head snaps so quickly in the droid’s direction, you’re surprised he didn’t pull something. 

“What?”

The droid beeps again and whatever he says makes Poe immediately lean over and whisper furiously at him. BB beeps again, sounding impatient. 

Before you can even think to intervene, someone on the other side of the room calls your name.

“Oh sorry, I’ve gotta—” you begin, pointing toward the commotion starting to unfold.

Poe nods, looking a little pained. “Yeah, of course. Thanks again, Doc.”

You shoot them both a smile before turning away, grabbing your data pad off of your tray before jogging across the room.

—

It’s been a few weeks since you last saw Poe. Apparently, the General had sent him out on some super top secret mission with no word on when he might return (not that you’d asked or anything…).

Is it weird to admit that you miss him? Can you miss someone you don’t even really know that well?

And yet, you do. Miss him, that is. You miss his kind eyes, his smile, his back and forth with BB-8, his (apparent) penchant for clumsiness, him calling you ‘Doc’ even though you’re not a doctor—

Kriff. 

You sigh, dragging your hand over your face as you walk down the hall you know will lead you back to the medbay. They’re short staffed today—a bout of flu had run through the medics on the night shift and everyone else had had to work doubles for the last week as a result. It’s bustling when you return and you immediately throw yourself back into the fray; it’s only the middle of your shift, you’re exhausted. 

Once there’s a bit of a lull, Dr. Kalonia sends you and a few other medics who look dead on their feet to the back to grab a little sleep. Normally, you’d try to protest, but you honestly don’t have the energy to fight her on it right now. You pass out the second your head hits the pillow.

The blaring of sirens rips you from sleep, the sound making your blood run cold.

The base is under attack.

You scramble to your feet, almost running into one of the other medics as you head to the front, struggling to remember your training. It’s a bit chaotic, but most of the medics manage to keep their heads cool, doing whatever they need to do for the good of the Resistance. It bolsters you, gives you the courage you need to do the same. That’s why you’re here after all.

After about fifteen minutes, the sirens abruptly stop, the sudden silence almost deafening to your ears after the loud blaring of the alarm. Everyone’s confused, including the doctor, who immediately grabs her comm to try and get some answers. The tension in the room is palpable as you wait, unsure of what’s happening; are you still under attack? Were you ever? Was this some kind of drill the General ordered just to see how everyone would respond?

You don’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, a group bursts into the medbay with someone on a stretcher. One of them calls for the doctor and she immediately jumps into action, calling on a few of the medics nearby for assistance. You hang back, watching with nervous bewilderment, still wondering what’s going on. Someone shifts, creating an opening in the crowd huddled around the patient, and you catch a flash of bright orange—a pilot.

Your mind immediately thinks of Poe, panic tightening your chest…until you remember he’s out on a mission. He’s fine, you think, turning away from the commotion in an effort to distance yourself from your thoughts. And even if he wasn’t, he’s not yours to worry about anyway, right?

Yours. The word makes your chest ache.

As you check on the patients in your section, making sure their vitals are all still stable, you hear a shout from across the room. You turn your attention toward them just to make sure they don’t need help, before returning your attention to your tasks. There’s another shout, but this time you don’t bother giving it your attention; there are closer medics than you. A few moments later, Dr. Kalonia herself calls your name.

When you turn around, several medics wave you over.

“He’s asking for you,” the doctor says when you reach them, gesturing toward the patient on the stretcher. “Just keeps saying your name over and over.”

“Me?” you question, baffled as you step a little closer, anxiety settling in your gut.

She nods somewhat impatiently. “Just let him know you’re here so we can continue.”

“O-of course,” you mutter, scrambling into the opening they create for you.

You pause when you see the pilot, mouth falling open in surprise. He’s bloody and bruised, eyes closed tight as he writhes in pain, orange flight suit pretty much torn to shreds—

Poe.

The doctor calls your name again, shaking you from your surprise. Immediately, you lean in close so he can hear you. You tell him that you’re there, that he’s safe, that you’re going to help him, your voice low and soft. He doesn’t respond, just keeps mumbling your name over and over again, clearly in distress, his eyes squeezed shut in pain. You try again, voice calm as you clasp his hand in yours, your free hand pushing back his blood and sweat-soaked curls. One of his eyes opens slightly at your touch and, while you’re not sure he can actually see you, you smile. He squeezes your hand then, and your smile widens, relief flooding through you. Your name continues to fall from his lips, but it’s less anxious now, more content.

Once Dr. Kalonia and her team stabilize him, they move him to the quietest corner of the room in the hopes that he can get some rest. His care is transferred to you, your other patients redistributed among the other medics. He’d stopped murmuring your name a while ago, the meds the doctor had given him finally kicking in and easing his pain. He doesn’t let go of your hand though. You could probably slip out of his hold easily enough, especially in his current state, but you find that you don’t really want to.

You find out later that Poe’s mission had (apparently) gone awry and he’d been forced to commandeer a First Order ship in order to make his escape; that explained the base alarms and the sudden cessation of them, at least. As for what had been the cause of his many injuries, you weren’t told (classified information, apparently). Doesn’t really matter though, you suppose, so long as he’s alright.

You’d cleaned him up the best you could given the circumstances (sponge baths only helped so much, after all), gently washing his hair, his face. The doctor had come by a few times to check on him (and one other time to try and convince you to return to your quarters to get some sleep). You can tell that she wants to know why he’d asked for you, why your mere presence had calmed him, why you now refused to leave his side. The truth is, you don’t really know. You know you feel a connection to him, one that you don’t have with anyone else, but you’re not really sure what it means. Do you love him? No, it’s too soon for that, you think, you barely even know him. Still, something in your soul calls to him, yearns for him. You wonder if he feels that something too.

It’s later in the evening now, the chaos from earlier having passed. The medbay is quiet, most of the day’s patients either having been discharged or are already asleep for the night. You’re still at Poe’s bedside, eyelids drooping as you fight to stay awake. You know you should leave, should get some rest, but he might wake up while you’re gone and you don’t want him to wake up alone. His hand is still clasped loosely in yours, his skin warm and dry. You stare at it, at the dried blood still beneath his fingernails, wondering idly if it’s his own or someone else’s; what had he gone through to get back here? What he had lost?

At some point, you must doze off because one moment you’re staring at Poe’s hand and the next you’re waking with a start. You groan as your neck twinges, the angle at which you’d been laying with your head half on his bed making it ache.

“I know what you mean,” a familiar voice rasps softly.

Your eyes immediately shoot up to meet theirs—warm brown, tinged with mild amusement and fondness.

“You’re awake,” you say, cringing a little at yourself for stating the obvious. “How are you feeling?”

Poe smiles, then immediately winces as he shifts, his hand pressing into his side. “Spectacular.”

You grimace, eyes sweeping over him in assessment. “Can I get you anything? Water? More pain meds?”

He chuckles, then immediately winces again. “I’m good. Thanks.”

You nod, unsure of what to do or say next; you’ve gotten so used to taking care of him, it feels odd to just sit here now.

“Where’s BB-8?” you ask, only just now realizing the little droid hadn’t accompanied the pilot to the medbay.

Poe frowns, averting his gaze. “He got hit pretty bad before we got on the ship. They said the mechanics are working on him, but no one’ll tell me any more than that.”

“I can find out for you,” you offer, moving to stand to your feet. 

He stops you, grasping your hand, wincing as the movement aggravates his injuries. “No, it’s fine. I–he’s in good hands. I’m just…worried is all.”

You nod, reclaiming your seat beside him. Silence falls between you, and while he seems perfectly comfortable, you can’t help but feel a little anxious.

“Thank you, by the way,” he says softly after a moment, his gaze falling to your clasped hands. “I…don’t remember much, but I remember hearing your voice. Not sure I’d be sitting here if it wasn't for you.”

You clear your throat, skin heating with embarrassment as you shift awkwardly in your seat. “Of course. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He meets your eyes again, that ever-present something in his gaze making your stomach flip. “Me too.”

You keep him company for a little bit, the two of you swapping stories and telling jokes. He tells you about growing up on Yavin IV, about his parents and, in turn, you tell him about your homeworld, about your past. Dr. Kalonia stops by at the shift change, again trying to convince you to return to your quarters for some proper rest. You try to decline, but Poe insists, and it’s the care and concern in his eyes that ends up persuading you. 

Weariness settles into your limbs as you shuffle down the hall, the events of the past couple of days catching up to you as the last dregs of adrenaline finally wear off. As you walk, you think about the time you’d spent with Poe and you smile, realizing he’d given you exactly what you’ve been longing for since you arrived here on D’Qar—a chance to connect, to be seen. When you finally make it to your quarters, you fall onto your bed, your brain going fuzzy as sleep rushes in quickly to claim you. 

—

When you return to the medbay the next day, you spot Poe standing beside his bed with his back to you—he’s been discharged, you realize, disappointment sinking in your belly as you watch him pack up his things. It’s not that you aren’t glad he’s well enough to leave, you are of course, you’ll just…miss keeping him company. 

You sigh, forcing yourself to look happy as you make your way over to him. If nothing else, you should at least tell him goodbye.

“Hey,” you greet, leaning against the side of the bed. 

He turns at the sound of your voice, eyes brightening when they meet yours. “Hey.”

“You’ve been liberated, I see,” you say, gesturing toward the bag on the chair beside the bed.

He chuckles, wincing slightly at the action. “That’s one way to put it.”

You nod, momentarily averting your gaze. “Heading to a briefing?”

“Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “Gonna go pick up BB actually.”

The knowledge that the little droid is alright makes your heart lighten and your smile softens. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

“I’ll be glad to see him too,” Poe agrees, smiling fondly as he slings the strap of the bag over his shoulder. 

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say, something that’ll keep him there just a little longer.

“Thanks again…for everything,” he says finally, his gaze soft and open as it holds yours.

You nod, swallowing thickly as your heart stutters a little at the intensity there; you’re not sure anyone has ever looked at you like this, has made you feel like this, and you’re beginning to think it’s not just you. Should you do something? Say something? Who knows when you’ll see him again. You open your mouth, the words sticking in your throat as you try to force them out—

In the end, you can’t, your courage waning at the last second as you force your eyes from his. You sigh, frustrated with yourself.

“Please at least try to take care of yourself this time, okay?” you croak, wetting your suddenly dry lips.

He chuckles again, and you have to bite back a smile at the sound.

“But if I did that, I wouldn’t have an excuse to see you,” he quips; his tone is teasing but the words make your heart skip nonetheless.

You scoff, waving a hand as you meet his eyes again. “Please, you don’t need an excuse.”

“No?”

“Of course not.”

“Okay. How about later then?”

Your eyes widen a little with surprise; he’s not…is he? 

“Later?” you ask, trying not to get your hopes up.

He shrugs, his smile almost shy as he scratches the back of his neck. “You said I didn’t need an excuse.”

That something is in his eyes again; that something you can’t exactly give a name to but feel in your soul, that something that seems to connect you both somehow.

“Okay,” you say, chewing on your bottom lip. “One condition.”

“Name it,” he says, brown eyes shining.

“It has to be outside of the medbay.”

He laughs, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “Deal.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

Addendum - First "Date"

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Dear Master Rolan

Based on a prompt by @faerunsbest, an AU in which Amelie is not "Tav" and instead went on the proposed trip to Calimshan to find a husband. She begins a correspondence with Rolan after the events of the game. SFW.

Dear Master Rolan,

I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Lady Amelie Wildheart, and I am writing to you to inquire if there are any tomes on wild magic you would recommend. As I’m sure you can guess, I’m a wild magic sorcerer. Most of my life, the bursts of wild magic that come from me are normally “adorable” according to my mother, Countess Luci Wildheart. However, they have on the rare occasion caused varying degrees of harm, much to my immense sadness and heartbreak. Perhaps there is some research or theory if wild magic bursts can be controlled in some way or prevent more deadly reactions.

Thank you so much for your time.

Sincerely,

Lady Amelie Wildheart

Rolan held the letter to his chest and sighed. If he was having an awful day (like today), then he would reread letters from Amelie.

No, you fool. Lady Amelie. She is a lady.

And my friend.

And I’ve fallen for her even though we’ve never met.

Letting out a frustrated growl, he folded the letter and put it back in its envelope. He then opened a locked drawer in his desk and placed the letter inside. Despite his mood, he could not resist smiling. In the past several months, his correspondence with her had only grown and deepened since her first letter. Rolan spent no small amount of time scouring Ramazith’s Tower for any and all tomes on wild magic, eagerly writing her a reply. What began as polite soon evolved into friendship which then changed into—

No.

She said herself she’s on a tour to Calimshan to hopefully find love. Her mother’s idea apparently after several failed attempts at arranging a marriage for her. How…how…can she still be unattached? She is wonderful and kind, thoughtful and funny, sweet with hints of spice.

No.

She calls me “dear friend.”

But…

He hastily searched for the envelope containing her latest letter.

Dear Rolan,

I hope this letter finds you well. I didn’t manage to find a copy of “Wild Magic: A Reconsideration.” However, I will be able to personally borrow it from you in a few weeks, because I’m finally coming home!

I’m so excited to be back in the Gate and see how the reconstruction is going (and maybe lend a mage hand or two to help). I can’t wait to see Mum and my friends.

I can’t wait to finally see you in person and meet Cal and Lia! Would you mind if I came by Ramazith’s Tower after I’ve settled in and have tea? If not, you are very much welcome at my home or Wildheart Manor.

Of course, please do not feel that we are obliged to do so. I know you are a very busy man with running the tower and shop as well as your other duties as Master of Ramazith’s Tower.

But if you would indulge a dear friend, then I would be most happy.

Yours,

Amelie

“Yours. How I wish I was yours.” He traced her signature with a clawed finger, frowning. “I would—”

“Rolan! Rolaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!” Lia’s voice called from the other side of his study door. “There’s someone here asking for you!”

I don’t have any appointments or meetings…do I?

“Who?”

“She said she’s here for Wild Magic: A Reconsideration.”

Rolan, Master of Ramazith’s Tower, nearly knocked over a sniggering Lia as he rushed out of his study and down the stairs to the main level of the shop.

Is it…

Could it be?

Her?

Then he remembered that he only knew Amelie was a half-elf and nothing else about her appearance.

“Excuse me, are you Rolan? The Master of Ramazith’s Tower?”

He turned to see a woman (a half-elf!!!!) with the most beautiful golden eyes staring back at him.

“Yes.”

Why is my heart pounding? Why does my tongue feel so clumsy and full in my mouth? Why do I feel sweaty? I JUST BATHED THIS MORNING.

The woman smiled. “Oh Rolan, it’s so lovely to see you. I’m Amelie…”

He fairly certain she was still speaking but could not make out the words.

Good gods.

She is stunning.

Gold eyes that shine with warmth. Copper colored hair. Freckles! Such lovely freckles. A sweet smile. Perfect, very kissable lips…NO.

She’s got a nice bosom…NO.

No.

Calm yourself, damn you!

“Rolan?”

He blinked. “Yes! Forgive me, I…it’s been…”

Amelie frowned and wrung her hands. “Oh. If it’s a bad time, then I can return another day. You see, I arrived home yesterday and wanted to see you, but—”

Acting on I’m not entirely sure what, he took her hands in his. “You are welcome here any day, any time, my lady. I would be most pleased if you stayed. Please.” Her hands are so soft and covered in more freckles. Who knew I was exchanging letters with a goddess?

“Really?” she asked with more a little hope. “I don’t want to impose, and I once again must ask for your forgiveness for coming unannounced.”

Please don’t say come.

He cleared his throat but before he could speak, she did.

“You see, Rolan…there was a reason why I came to see you and not simply because of a book.” Her words spilled out of her like a babbling brook, something Rolan found profoundly adorable. “I—”

Giving her hands a squeeze, he spoke softly, “Let us speak in my study. In private, my lady.”

Away from customers but mainly Cal and Lia, who are staring and giggling.

Fuck.

A light blush painted the half-elf’s cheeks. “Oh. Yes. Of course. Please, lead the way.”

As Rolan offered his arm as they ascended to the second floor, Lia elbowed her brother.

“How much do you want to bet that they’re both so awkward they don’t confess?” she laughed.

Cal rolled his eyes. “You have got to be kidding. Rolan has an entire speech ready, which I know because he insisted, I listen to him while he ‘practiced.’”

Trying not to laugh more, Lia glanced to the second floor and watched as Rolan and Amelie entered his study. “Don’t mess this up, big brother…”

[haveyouusedthispokemon]

All main polls have been posted! And in a week, I’ll post two stat posts. One for Paldea+, and one for overall ^^

In the interim, we can decide…

Contest Hall

Restarting from the beginning! Keeping with posting full evolution lines, in National Dex order per earliest number (Example: Happiny and Blissey posted in Gen 1 with Chansey). This will keep the 2-3 polls a day format, and keep continuous posting through regions. (Example: The Chikorita line posted 12 hrs after Mew)

Pokeathalon

Restarting from beginning, but doing individual polls for every pokemon! Fully in Pokédex order. Over 1000 polls to be posted. For this, I’ll boost posting up to 8 polls a day (a poll every 3 hours), but keep posting continuous through regions.

Safari Zone

Doing polls grouped by each games’ Regional Dex! So the question will change to ‘Have you used ___ in ___?’ Stat posts will go by games and therefore not exclude repeat pokemon. This will go by Mainline games only, and exclude National Dex-only Pokemon. I’ll post 4 polls a day, once every 6 hours, and have a week long break between regions.

Hall of Fame

Individual polls asking not only if you used the pokemon, but also where you first used them! Poll options will expand the ‘yes’ selection by asking what generation you first used them in, with a list of games they were available in below the poll. (Example: Yes, I used them in Gen 1. Gen 1 includes Red/Blue/Green/Yellow, Stadium, Trading Card Game, Super Smash Bros, and Let’s Go Pikachu/Eevee). This will include spin off games where ‘using’ the Pokemon is applicable. I’ll post 8 polls a day and keep continuous posting through regions.

Friseur Furfrou

This blog will go on break until 3 months after Legends Z-A and then pick up where we left off, to help avoid spoilers.

Pokestar Studios

I’ll convert to fully polls by request! This can be for any pokemon or non-pokemon, similar to April fools day. I’ll turn on submissions to help ease us into this, and will keep things scheduled to up to 8 polls a day. This will vary based on amount of submissions.

Other

Thought of a better idea? I’d love to hear it! I’ll record any suggestions here ^^

[zayray030]

Over-Exaggeration

Summary: Ace understood that over-exaggerating something is common. However, he would like to have whoever said dating Leona would be a pain to be burned at the stake for blasphemy.

OR

Ace and Leona are dating and reveal it to a few people. They're also disgustingly in love.

Note: This is a gift for @lummyzzz . I hope you're doing okay and to congratulate you on Lionheart

Other note: I am also doing comissions. All info is on my pinned.

If Ace had to say one thing that everyone was good at it would be over-exaggeration. And see, the thing is he gets it. It is so easy to embellish or to stretch out what truly happened and sometimes people cannot help but to add a little sparkle to their words. He understands, okay? Hell, he’s almost the kind of over-exaggeration when it comes to being in pain. So, he can forgive and understand why people might sometimes not tell the full truth and might be dramatic.

However, he would like to have whoever said dating Leona would be a pain to be burned at the stake for blasphemy. Because in all honesty, it is the best thing that’s happened to Ace.

Sure, dating the Lion can have its challenged. For one, he rarely ever texts back and when he does is the slowest and blandest texter. Quite frankly he can get more riveting conversation from talking to housewarden Riddle about Hedgehog maintenance. Also, the other has the tendency to be far too logical about things which can cause him to sometimes stream role through Ace’s feelings without taking a moment to think about them. Also, the other has a temper with a short handle on it.

However, Leona is also incredibly perceptive and is always able to make up for whenever he messes up. He also knows what to get Ace, what Ace likes and so much more even though he pretends he isn’t paying much attention to Ace when he’s rambling.

Leona is also extremely comfortable to snuggle, and surprisingly he is always up for cuddling, even when it doesn’t seem like it. He’ll just casually pull Ace into his lap or his bed, wrapping his arms around the younger and burying his face in Ace’s neck as he holds him as if he is the only one that matters.

And the dates! They vary based on the mood of the couple and whilst sometimes the other might not initially want to do something, they enjoy seeing the other happy. Like when Leona took Ace on a mini shopping spree even though he had no interest in being around all the noise, but seeing his boyfriend giddily find matching outfits and jewellery for them had been worth it. And Ace playing a game of chess with the other, simply because he enjoys seeing Leona so confidant and smart and simply being at ease with where he is.

Their relationship worked. All the way from Leona convincing Ace to grow out his hair by caring for it himself, to Ace indulging Leona’s wandering hands and possessive tendencies.

The problem was informing everyone. Especially after almost 6 months of dating.

Fuck.

******************************

“So Acey, what’s up? Why the nerves?” asked Cater, looking up from his phone to find Ace nervously fidgeting with his magical pen as he cast his eyes over Cater, Riddle and Trey one-by-one almost as if assessing which one is the biggest threat and danger.

‘Oh shit, what did he and deuce do now?” thought Cater mentally as he thought of ways to pacify Riddle, already watching as the other had crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows expectantly.

“Yes Ace, what is the matter? Did you do something?” asked Riddle, anger in his tone. Both Ace and Trey winced at the tone and Cater wondered, not for the first time, if this was the day that Trey was going to finally start developing grey hairs.

“Well technically, I didn’t do anything.” Ace tried to argue back but shrank back down when Riddle’s glare grew. Cater raised an eyebrow the reaction, because this was typically where Ace got even more jokey and sarcastic. “So, I just wanted to tell you three, because you are by dorm upperclassmen, and you deserve to know first before discovering it from an idiot who can’t keep their mouth shut.” Ace started rambling before a pointed cough from Trey caused him to pause and take a deep breath. “I am dating someone. In this school. And no, it isn’t a 2D portrait” Ace gave him a pointed look, as is sensing the joke that was about to come his way.

It was silent for a few seconds, before Riddle smiled brightly at Ace and gave a light chuckle. “Oh, is that it Ace?” he asked, shaking his head and getting up from his perch on the couch. “There was no need to be so nervous. We would never judge you for this.” He talked as he approached the younger, standing in front of him, smile relaxed. “So long as you are safe and happy, that is all the matters.” He patted the youngers shoulders.

Clearly, their reactions were not Ace was expecting because he stood there, jaw dropped as if someone told him that Riddle had told a particularly funny joke or that Deuce had gotten 100 on a written exam.

“Riddle is right.” Nodded Trey, smiling teasingly at the other.” There was no need to be so nervous.” The older got up and made his way to the kitchen with Riddle following him. “Now pie, anyone? I’m sure I have a few spares…” he trailed off, walking into the question with Riddle behind him.

That left only Cater and Ace in the room. Cater gave a smirk before swaggering over to Ace who already seemed to dread the conversation that was about to happen. “So Acey-pie?” cooed Cater, resting an arm on Ace’s shoulder, “Who on earth are you dating?” he asked the most vital question that seemed to slip from the other two’s mind, most likely just grateful that Ace hadn’t gotten into any major trouble. “There is no way you would be just scared of coming out to them. So, Who. Are. You. Dating?” asked Cater, punctuating every word with a finger to Ace’s chest.

Ace stared at the older wordlessly, before letting out an annoyed sigh, and ruffling his hair which Cater noticed had some considerable length to It compared to the previous hair style.

“And I thought I was gonna get away with it!” whined Ace, pouting at Cater.

“Nope!” giggled Cater, as he threw his arms fully over Ace’ shoulder and brought him closer. “So now, spill!”

Ace paused, as if almost contemplating if running was worth getting cornered later on before he sighed and turned around to fully face Cater. “It’s Leona.” He answered.

Cater froze. A part of him wanted to laugh it off as one big joke and teased Ace into telling him who he was actually dating but one look at Ace’s face made the words dry up his throat.

His eyes were wide and honest, almost scared as if sensing the incredulity that Cater had. Cater stared into Ace’s eyes for a moment, almost as if hoping to see if there was a sign of a lie but there was none. Instead, Cater threw him arms around Ace and gave him a tight hug. “Make sure you get that bag, Ace,” He whispered jokingly to the younger giving him a quick squeeze before letting go and going into the kitchen. “Good luck telling everyone else!” he called behind him, waving at Ace.

“Ace, who’s face had gone cherry red at Cater’s first sentence, immediately paled dramatically as he realised what’s going to be instore for him and Leona.

*******************************

“Hey crabby!” called out Floyd as he watched Ace dress quicker than the other has ever done before. “Whatchya doin’?” he asked.

“Getting changed?” replied Ace, slightly perplexed at the obvious question. He was already halfway dressed and now in the customary wite collared shirt and school pants, whilst everyone else was still taking their time, discussing the club session and improvements they can do to beat RSA.

“Duh!” snapped Floyd annoyed, crossing his arms at the tone. “Buy why on earth are you of all people getting changed so quick?” he asked, his mis-matched eyes furrowing in confusion before lighting up with teasing glee and loudly asking “Got a hot date?” asked Floyd, leaning into Ace’s personal space.

“Can’t a guy just wanna leave a locker room after a sweaty club session and get away from the smell?” asked Ace, pouting at getting asked such an embarrassing in front of everyone, who all seemed to latch onto the bait like eager sharks.

“I mean, that could explain why he tried so hard at today’s club session.” Slinked in Jamil, mocking smile on as he watched Ace jump a foot in the air at the sudden appearance. “Wanted to brag about becoming the new ‘star’ of the club?” he teased, enjoying the red on Ace’s face as he spluttered at the accusations. The rest of the club let out little titters at the red-heads reaction.

“I have no idea what either of you are talking about!” Ace huffed as he used one of the cherry clips gifted to him by Leona to clip back his hair. “1) I simply wanted to impress Vargas -sensei so I can have an excuse to skip out on the next PE lesson.” So, Leona can use him as on over-sized pillow. “2) Everyone here smells like ass, and I simply do not want to have to walk all the way back to my dorm with that lingering on me.” Also, Leona gets incredibly jealous when he smells other people on the redhead and Ace had just ordered a cool new top and he would like to wear it without his neck looking ravaged. “And 3) If I did have a date, it would be none of your concern.” Leona was planning on having Ruggie bring something form the monstro-lounge as a little mini date.”

At the end of his little mini tirade, he had finished stuffing his clothes into his bag and swung it over his shoulders. “Any questions?” he asked, turning around to give them a petty glare.

“Yeah, the hell did crabby mean when I smelt bad?” glared Floyd, rage clear as he stood up and advanced threateningly towards the younger. Ace cringed and cursed his big mouth and his emotional response. Thankfully however, his ticket out had spawned.

“Exactly as spikey said, you all smell like a barnyard.” They’re stood Leona, ears twitching in annoyance, leaning on the door frame for his boyfriend. “Don’t get mad at him for telling it how it is.” He flicked his tail at Ace in a come-hither motion. Ace eagerly did so, sidling up to his tall boyfriend and leaned up, wanting a kiss. Leona, reciprocated, to the shock of just about everyone in the room. He finished off the kiss with a quick nip which promised Ace more when they were safely back in Leona’s room before said boyfriend turned to address the room.

“Deodorant and anti-perspirants are fucking cheap and if Ruggie can afford them then you fuckers have no excuses.” He left them with this final message before wrapping an arm around Ace’s shoulder and guiding him out of the room and to Leona’s dorm room so they can have their date.

The basketball club stood there silent before a rare Igihide student turned to a Diasmonia student and held their hand out. “That’s 100 thaumarks, thank you very much.”

“What?” asked Floyd irritably, turning to glare at the two students.

Rare Igihide must either be dumb or far too excited about winning money to care about Floyd’s tone and now hightailing it out of there. “We had a bet to see whether Ace or Leona would get together prior to Leona leaving for his internship.”

“And what made you think Leona and Ace would be dating?” asked Jamil, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Ace is one of the few students that Leona allows to interrupt his naps, Ace has started to wear extremely expensive watches and jewellery. Leona has started to carry out more hair bands and Ace has also started to grow his hair out more. Ace has also been spotted wearing a few of Leona’s shirts, even the dorm shirt one time. Also, Ace has had multiple wounds on his neck which he plays off as mosquito bite, however if you look carefully at this bite and compare it to a lion’s mouth, they do look similar.” The Igihide student had taken out notebooks, all filled with evidence of Ace and Leona’s relationship, and they were standing in front of everyone holding the imagine of a lion’s mouth and a grainy picture of bite wound on Ace’s neck.

Everyone stood there silently as they watched the crazed student, all who were close to him, moving back a few steps as to not catch whatever crazy he had.

“Man, you’re even creepier than seagull.” Floyd told him, pulling a face at his peer. He grabbed his bag and stormed out of the club room, with many following suits, not wanting to be alone with the other student.

“You know.” Jamil began as he and Floyd walked side by side to the mirrors. “Polyamory is always a thing.” He said cryptically before walking to the mirror to take him to his dorm.

Floyd stared at the mirror, almost hoping to summon the snake back before he sighed and ruffed his hair. ‘Too many emotions for the day.’ He thought to himself.

*************&&&&&************

The first years all stared Ace down as he attempted to ignore them and focus on his cherry pie that Trey had baked him as an apology for Riddle’s earlier outburst.

Eventually, Sebek had finally lost his patience. “HUMAN!” he yelled loudly, attracting attention from all the poor people who happened to pass by.

“Idiot.” Replied Ace, as he ate another part of his apology pie. He isn’t gonna lie, hearing Sebek splutter over the insult was so far from his favourite memory of the other.

“Ace.” Began Epel, sitting down next to him and shooting the cherry pie a quick glare before turning soft eyes on him. “We’re sorry that we didn’t believe you about Leona and laughed at you when you said you were.” Apologised Epel, big eyes growing even wider. “Can you please forgive us?” asked Epel, leaning in closely.

“So long as you stop glaring at my pie as if killed your entire family.” Replied Ace pettily which caused Epel to let out a little snicker and punch him lightly on the shoulder. Ace finally looked up to the rest f his friends and was both shocked and pleased to see them seem genuinely remorseful.

“Leona gave me an earful when I got back to the dorm, and I really am sorry.” Ace couldn’t help but feel slightly bad, especially at the kicked puppy image that Jack was exuding. “I just thought that you would never go out with Leona because it didn’t seem like you two would get along and from what you told us about your ex, I just thought that you were in general not looking for a relationship.” Ace had to give it to the other, for as much as he tried to play the tough guy image, he can be incredibly sweet.

“I forgive you as well.” Sighed Ace and tried to not laugh as Jack’s tail began waggling excitedly.

“I believed you from the start!” declared Ortho and Ace smiled as he wrapped an arm around the younger’s shoulders. “I know you did.” He said, squeezing the other into his side, so far, his favourite first year.

“I APOLGISE FOR THE DISRESPECT I- “

“I GOT IT!” Interrupted Ace, absolutely not in the mood to put up with such foolishness any longer. “Sit down.” Ace demanded before turning to Deuce who immediately crashed into Ace. Ortho, thankfully, already sensing what was about to happen, jumped out of the way just in time and the rest of the friend group watched as Ace frantically attempted to comfort a near-crying Deuce.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-.” Apologised Deuce over an over. He had bene the last one to find out that Ace was dating Leona and that had come from an extremely loud screaming match between Ace and Riddle over Riddle finding out that Ace was in fact dating Leona. It had led to hurtful words coming from both sides with an eventual pie apology from Riddle, who seemed shameful of his actions. Clearly getting chewed out by both Trey and Cater had been the wake-up call for him.

“Okay I got it!” Yelled Ace, trying to not let out any pained noises as he tried to get used to the pain on his back from being tackled by his best friend. “I forgive you just let me up so I can finish my pie!”

And because all of his friends are assholes, not a single one attempted to help, instead they all just sat there laughing at him. Thankfully, they all hated cherry too much to eat his pie.

********************************

“You know, we could have just made out in the cafeteria to reveal everything.” Leona grumbled as he brushed Ace’s hair for him.

Ace gave him a non-committal hum and continued scrolling through his messages from people congratulating him on his relationship to still complete disbelief about his relationship with a prince. And then there was Azul trying to pressure him into having a date at the monstro lounge. Sigh. Businessmen and their schemes.

“You could have also made sure that Rook was turned into a sand sculpture.” Replied Ace sweetly as he tilted his head back, pouting his lips for a kiss. Leona allowed it and leaned it. They held the kiss for a few slow moments before Ace pulled back, eyes twinkling. “However, I must say watching Riddle-senpai beat him up with his staff for asking how we ‘mate’ was the best part of the week.” He grinned cheekily.

“Really?” asked Leona, raising an eyebrow at the freshmen. “Even better than when I took you to that dessert shop and let you pick out as many things as you want?”

“Yup.”

“Even better than when I got you than new watch and let you get it custom made.”

“Yup.”

“Even better than when I put you in front of my mirror and fu-.” The rest of Leona’s world were muffled as Ace sprang from his lap and turned around; face beat red as he glared at his boyfriend. Unfortunately, that glare had no affect and only caused Leona to let out a low laugh.

“Okay, no, but still. It was pretty great you have to admit.” Pouted Ace at getting teased.

“Can’t disagree.” Agreed Leona as he turned Ace around and finished doing his hair. When he finished, he planned several kisses on the back of Ace’s hair. “Let’s sleep now.” And it would have sounded like a demand if Leona were talking to anyone else.

“okay.” Ace turned around again and planted a kiss on Leona’s cheek before flopping down on the bed.

Leona joined him and cradled him in his arms. And with that, the happy couple fell asleep in each other’s arms.

[loakstahni]

Sluttly little waist~

MDNI🔞 READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! DONT LIKE? DONT READ!!

A/N- I was bored as hell- and kept thinking about quaritch being vary vocal during sex and stuff, plus i keep seeing fics based around it so wanted to give a go at it!!

Recom!miles quaritch x avatar!fem reader

Smut without plot, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, female and male orgasm, quaritch getting whiny, slight overstemulated quaritch, dryhumping, tsaheylu.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Info:

You and quaritch had been sneaking around for a few months now, well.. More like a whole year, it started when quaritch got his frist rut after becoming a na'vi and he instantly went to find you. He had always been drawn to you as human, but then he met paz, had miles Jr, and then died.

Now he didn't have anything except his squad, he didn't want to be with walker, or z-dog, Yes they were nice and stuff but he didn't, just didn't feel drawn to them.

You were on the head of the avatar program, still working to get to understand Pandora and the na'vi better. You had so much experience as a na'vi, so much more then miles. And thats why he went to you first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late, and yet you were wide awake, miles laided out over your bed. His tail curled tightly around yours, "can you out the book down and cuddle me already?" He grumbles, yellow eyes glaring up at you. You giggle softly, your ears twitching. You'd often stay in your avatar body for days before returning to your human one, you we thinking of having a Consciousness transfer done but still didn't know yet.

"Let me finish this chapter first, ok kitty?" You giggle softly, gently ruffling his short, shaved black hair. "Don't call me fuckin' kitty." Miles grumbles, slightly leaning his head up to chase after your touch before you pull your hand away. "Ok ok, i won't call you kitty anymore." You laugh softly, leaning back agaisnt your headboard and you bury your nose back into the book you were reading.

Quaritch sighs softly, turning his head and looking at your candle that smelled like fresh rain and musk. His nose twitches slightly at the scent, he secretly loved it but never told you. "Ok, fuck the book, im done waiting." He grumbles, grabbing you by the ankles and dragging you down until your flat on your back, he slaps the book from your hold and pushes it off the bed, surely losing the page you were reading.

"Hey! That was uncalled for-" miles cuts your bitching off with a rough kiss, he grips at your hips, tugging yours upwards towards his with a hungry growl. "Zip it." He growls after breaking the kiss, he slips a hand up the hem of your sweater, pulling it over your head and throwing it somewhere off your bed. "Hm.. There my girls are.." He hums softly, leaning down, nuzzling his face into your breasts through your sports bra. "Fuckin' love these things.." Miles grumbles, a rough and deep purr rumbling deep in his throat.

"You always say that." You giggle softly, your ears drooping submivssely and your face flushing a deep purple. "Because they are perfect.." He mumbles, gently unhooking your bra from your shoulders and slowly pulling it off with a deep groan. "Yeah.. There they are.." He instantly starts kneading at your breasts with his rough, warm hands. Your breath hitches and your arch your back up into him. He kneads at your breasts for a few more moments before sitting up, pulling his tank top off and throwing it aside before working his belt off.

"Miss me that much?" You tease with a giggle, lifting your hips off your bed as you pull your sweats down, tossing them off the bed. "You never learn to shut your mouth?" He growls, his ears flat to his skull making you shiver a bit. Quaritch throws his belt off your bed and his cammies follow soon after. "Thought you loved when i don't shut up." You giggle, wrapping your legs around his sluttly little waist and pulling him down towards you again.

"For God's sake, zip it." He chuckles roughly, placing a hand by your head so he could hover over you. He pushes his hips flush against yours, shoving his cloth covered bulge agaisnt your covered heat. "Mhm.." You groan softly, letting your head drop back agaisnt your pillows. Quaritch rolls his hips forward, grinding his cock agaisnt your clothed clit with a deep growl.

"Mhp! S-stop teasing please.." You whine softly, your eyes looking up to his. "You started it." He growls, pulling you kuru braid over your chest before reaching back and pulling his over his shoulder. "Miles, wait! You don't know what your doing-" he glares down at you, yellow eyes piercing right through your soul. "Don't test me, I know exactly what im doing." He carefully brings his kuru down to yours, watching as your pink little tendrils search for his before they intagle together, glowing a light pink.

His head drops down to your shoulder and he grips your hip with his free hand, his pupils dilating as his mind of flooded with you, and your mind is flooded with him. "M-miles.." You whine softly, gently grabbing at his arm. "Yeah.. I gotcha.." He mumbles, his tail curling around your thigh. He sits up, quickly pulling your underwear down your thighs and leaving them to hang on one of your ankles. Miles stares down at your slick folds, his ears swiveled forward in awe. He's never seen you this wet, and he's fucked you enough to know so.

"Goddamn, babygirl.." He mumbles, leaning down closer to your cunt. Quaritch presses his nose into the top of your pelvic bone, letting out a deep groan before lifting himself back up. You look up at him, your ears drooped and face flushed. "What..?" You ask shyly, your tail thumping against your mattress. "Your soaked, like.. I've never seen you this worked up." He rasps, sitting up on his knees and pulling his boxers down to his ankles. He hovers back over you, pushing his hips forwards, making his hard cockhead ram into your clit.

"Miles!" You squeak, your hands grabbing at his sides. "Hm, my bad." He chuckles, angling his hips down a bit and pushing forwards again. The head of his cock catching against your entrance, he chuckles deeply, shoving his hips forwards, bury his length to the hilt in one quick movement. "Mhm! Easy please!" You whine out, your gummy walls hugging him tightly.

Miles groans softly, feeling just how overly sensitive you both were from making tsaheylu. "Yeah, sorry not happening tonight." Miles withdraws his hips, before thrusting forward again with a deep moan. He repeats this until he's found a good deep and rough pace. His head drops down into your your chest, his nose pressed in between your breasts as he thrusts in and out of your tight walls.

"Fuck! S-slow down.. Mhpf!" You sob, your hands grabbing at his back and shoulders, nails digging into his sweaty azure skin. "Can't- fuckin' can't." He growls, gripping your hips tightly. Quaritch's heavy, full balls slapping against the curve of your ass each time he slams home. He felt high, high off the feeling of being bonded with you, he felt if he didn't fuck you hard he would lose it.

His pace starts growing sloppy, thrusts growing shallow as his high started forming in his core. Your whines and moans grew louder and more drawn out, indicating you were too, almost there. Miles reaches a hand down, rubbing roughly against your clit making you sob. "C-cumming fuck!" You squeak, you walls clenching tightly around his length as you release your clear arousal all over his shaft.

Quaritch whines into your chest, stilling his hips for a moment. His knot starting to swell at the base of his cock, he desperately humps against you, gripping at your bruised hips. "Oh Fuck, fuck! Open up f'r me.. C'mon!" He growls, shoving his hips forwards once more, his thick knot popping into your tight heat making you screech weakly. He whines loudly into your chest, hips pumping desperately into your cunt as his length throbs roughly inside your walls as he unloads himself inside you.

"Damn.. Oh fuck.." You pant, gently cradling his head agasint your chest. Miles pants heavily, his body shivering as he lets himself collapse ontop of you. His knot tied into your gummy walls, insuring none of his seed go to waste.

Quaritch lifts his head from your chest, gently kissing your forehead then giving you a soft kiss. "I love you, Y/n.." He mumbles, letting his head flop back against your breasts. "I love you too, miles.." You whisper Horsley.

Now miles had more of a reason to be with you. You were his and he was yours, for life..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[the-starry-seas]

Hey there dear !

It's a tusken day apparently today (the best kind of days) so now I have a headcanon question and I love your hcs and worldbuilding. So what do you think the Tuskens relationship with the sky and stars would be ? Especially since you know, Tatooine has two Suns and I'm sure the most beautiful night skies too.

Oh! Yes! I have headcanons indeed 😂

Astronavigation is pretty much the only system the Tuskens use. Because like, Tatooine used to be an ocean planet, got glassed by an orbital bombardment, and then that glass dissolved into sand. I can't imagine there's many landmarks left after that level of destruction. But while the planet's surface was getting completely fucked over, the stars in the system stayed the same! So it was pretty much the only reliable way to navigate Tatooine while the planet underwent its apocalyptic reshuffling.

Eventually, the geography of the planet settled down. They figured out which mountains disappeared, and where there's big new pillars of glass and slag, and navigating via landmark is now something that can be reliably done...

When there's landmarks in the first place. Book of Boba Fett showed what was pretty much a featureless desert wasteland. Sand dunes move over time. Even at the rate of moving ten feet a year, that's gonna be thirty or forty miles for a single dune. Very hard to have geographical landmarks or manmade markers in that kind of terrain.

Tatooine's night skies are stunning. Check out this pic by the National Park Service. 95% of Tatooine counts as an excellent dark sky site. The names and legends behind constellations have been perfectly preserved since Tatooine's pre-desert time. It was the only thing that could stay exactly the same when quite literally the rest of the world was being destroyed. Very little of their culture could be retained so exactly, so star lore is extremely important to Tuskens! The suns, moons, and stars feature heavily in mythology, fiction, and art.

Constellations are also used to illustrate relationships and navigate grief. For example, a family with three kids will find a constellation of five stars, one to represent each member of their immediate family. Even when a family member dies, the star that represents them is never separated from the others, which is particularly helpful for young Tuskens facing their first loss.

This is also a great way to illustrate how, just like each constellation is connected to the rest of the sky, each family is connected to the rest of their clan, and each clan is connected to Tuskens as a whole. A star is never alone. Neither is a Tusken!

The three moons are named after the Kumumgah brothers who led the army that repelled the Rakata. Tatooine keeps a lunar calendar of 304 days, with ten months making up a year. The months vary in length by up to a week, based on the phases of the moons. Festivals fall on a full, half, or new moon. The last day of the year is marked by the only day on which all three are a new moon at the same time. Historically, this has also unofficially been a lover's festival, as the darkness is a great cover for couples to sneak off together without anyone seeing.

Unlike the moons, the suns have never had any specific names. Since pre-Tusken times, however, they've been referred to as a male-female couple in mythology, songs, and everything in between. The two sun symbolism features heavily in wedding ceremonies' spoken rites and visual decorations.

As a result, both the two suns and the colour yellow have come to represent loyalty and love in all relationship types. Pairs of round yellow 'sun beads' are exchanged as promises of lifelong fidelity between siblings, friends, and spouses. Often a proposal is done by gifting a bracelet woven from yellow fabric or embroidered with yellow beads. Clothes worn by couples at their wedding ceremony have two suns prominently featured in some way - to not have them is bad luck!

Polycules typically use the same symbolism since it's so culturally ingrained. However, some will pick out constellations with the proper number of stars, just like families do. In four-person polycules, it's common to double existing two-sun patterns.

Wearing clothing with only one sun is used to indicate that a person is in mourning for someone they loved deeply. The mourning period lasts until this piece of clothing is burned.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Author’s Note: Trai part three! I hope you enjoy :D first. Previous

Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @whorety-k @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts

Warnings: none, ask me to tag if anything bothers you

Summary: Trai apologizes for being overeager

“I… Would like to apologize.” Trai murmured, warm honey brown eyes briefly looking at you, before the large mer looked down and away, bashful and contrite.

It had been a little over a week since his… Offer of immortality at the cost of shedding your human form. You still had no idea how to process that offer, much less how to respond. “Oh?” You manage out.

“Yes, I… I realized I came on a bit strong, when I… Ah… Gave you that offer seven days past. It is still valid, of course, but I realize we have only barely met, and to offer such is a bit… Much.” He ducks his head contrite, still not looking at you.

That was… Not what you were expecting. You've worked with Astartes in the past, and are well aware of how intense they can be. You also suspected that his offer had been made in part to try and repay the nonexistent debt he might feel he owes you for nursing him back to help, and offering him safety and shelter after months of miserable torment. You'd also noticed he seemed… Very wary of other Astartes, despite most of them also being in varying stages of being healed. Especially Raven Guard. “I accept your apology, Trai.” You wait a beat before asking “How have the new stretches been treating you?”

“They were difficult and more than a little painful at first, but I can do them now without pain! Watch.” Trai trilled as he performed a series of impressively acrobatic movements, his deeply tanned skin shifting and flexing as he did so.

From what records that the bastards who had been experimenting on Trai and other Astartes they'd captured, the Word Bearer had been held captive for the longest, and subjected to some of the most extreme experiments they could think of. The fact that he trusted you and the other human medical staff at all was miraculous - and spoke of his either trusting or forgiving nature. You clap and grin, murmuring “Well done! I'm so glad that you're continuing to regain strength.” There were also the teal and silver Astartes who regularly visited this facility, the ones who had led you and your team to those butchers…

“Thank you, truly.” Trai murmured, a warm smile on his face that made him look so very handso-no. You were not going to go there. Not while he was under your care as a patient. After, perhaps if he wanted anything to do with humans at all, once he was strong enough to leave. “I would still be held captive, were it not for your grace and intervention.”

A thought struck you. You're not sure if the teal astartes had actually visited any of the injured patients. They seemed a secretive bunch, and you'd never heard about octopi-based Astartes until they'd shown up at your door, their bioluminescent rings flashing with distress and anger. “While I and my team helped in the rescue… You do know that it was a group of your cousins who found where you and other injured Astartes were being held, right?”

He fidgeted a little “Still, it has been your care and dedication that has allowed me to heal. I feel much safer in your care, than in theirs.’ Trai murmured. He'd been asked if he'd wanted to be in the care of his own people's medical professionals and had refused. At the time he'd said that he wasn't sure he had the strength for the open ocean…

You were wondering if perhaps he'd simply wanted to stay with you. Warmth blossomed in your chest at that thought, even as your professional side scolded you for being so wistful. “I am honored by your trust, Trai.”

He smiles and nods “Thank you.”

You smile warmly back, continuing your daily work routine. Trai's assistance in feeding the large and sometimes rowdy sea turtles is very much appreciated.

[benkyoutobentou]

31 Days of Productivity Reading もう一回！: Day 0

Ever since my last Japanese intensive reading challenge in March, I've been focusing pretty hard on shrinking my English tbr (and subsequently not reading a whole lot in Japanese). I feel like I'm kind of hitting a wall in my English reading, though, and so I figured that I'd start this challenge up again, since I don't know how to be normal about my reading in any capacity.

Last time, I said that I wanted to revisit this challenge, and now I'm, back with a vengeance. This time, rather than timing myself, I'll be recording my progress based on page count. My goal will be 25 pages per day for novels and 100 pages for manga. The actual difficulty of completing that will vary based on what I'm reading, though.

Just like last time, I do have a goal of finishing three novels and ten volumes of manga. As for the novels, the first issue to tackle has to be finishing 憎らしい彼. Yes, the very same on that I started last time. In March. Why I haven't finished this yet, I don't know. I even read an entire other Japanese book between then and now, but still haven't finished this one. The other two books I'd like to get to in August are 地球星人 and 本を守ろうとする猫の話. I read コンビニ人間 a couple years ago and adored it, but it seems like I'll love 地球星人 even more based on what I've seen people say about it, so I need to just suck it up and read it instead of waiting for the perfect time when I'm perfectly fluent in Japanese.

As for manga, I intend for this to be a month of starting series. I got a pretty big order of manga last month (I put in huge orders of books a few times a year due to shipping costs) which contained an awful lot of first few volumes to completed series. I'd like to focus in on starting those series as opposed to ongoing series so that I can decide if I want to finish up collecting them in my next order. Those volumes will probably be オハナホロホロ and ポーの一族. I also have series that I've already started (バサラ) and a oneshot (悲しみのロックを鳴らせ) that I'd like to get to, and I'm not saying I won't catch up with some currently ongoing series such as 光が死んだ夏 and 気になってる人が男じゃなかった.

And so, here are my few goals for the month

Read 100 pages of manga OR 25 pages of a novel each day

Finish reading three novels

Read ten volumes of manga

And my (very loose) tbr for the month

憎らしい彼

本を守ろうとする猫の話

地球星人

バサラ

悲しみのロックを鳴らせ

オハナホロホロ

ポーの一族

狼の皮をかぶった羊姫

[foxes-that-run]

Perfect

Zayn said he wouldn’t buy the record when he heard Perfect (so salty!). Harry's emotions varied performing it in its short 27 performance run from Oct-Dec when 1D ended. These 2 stand out:

November 20 2015, rather than sing the Bridge Harry said to the crowd "if you think it's so funny you can sing it".

3 days later at the AMAs he rolls his eyes and looks ready to walk out, the camera cuts to a kid who seems to agree. (Bridge is 2:40).

It was only performed 6 more times, in Carpool Karaoke (10:30) Harry stops singing for parts and the song cuts before the bridge, at the Jingle ball he looks away and the last time was new years.

Or this concert he put the mike into the crowd, someone stole the microphone and licked it.

Safe to say he regretted that bridge, it's savage to them both.

Writers

Perfect ties with Fools Gold for the title of the Haylor song with the most writers, at 7. While Fools Gold has all 5 of the band, Bunetta and Ryan. Harry and Louis are the only band members who worked on Perfect with Bunetta, Ryan and 3 others:

Jesse Shatkin, (cowrote Sia's Chandelier)

Jacob Kasher (Maroon 5 collaborator), and

Mozella (cowrote Miley Cyrus Wrecking Ball and Fools Gold.)

To me, Perfect has more media grabbing pop-song than Harry Styles. HS’s best 1D work was with teams of 3 or 4 writers. In fact, Bunetta said Olivia came out in 45 minutes while overworking another "less good" MITAM song.

Timeline

Bunetta also told Rolling Stone about Perfect:

"That one took a long time, just because it was written over a couple different continents. It started as one thing and ended up where it is."

MITAM was made in the summer of 2015. To have been written in a couple of continents and with USA based writers it was probably either side of the BBMAs. It could have been started 'as one thing' in April in South Africa before the BBMAs other songs that reference Style including Two Ghosts started early in the year. The "ended up where it is" with those writers would be after the BBMAs, when they got back to the USA from July. This would be at the end of the album and he was singing it daily within 3 months.

Similarity to Taylors songs

It has the same chord progressions as Style and is also very similar to out of the woods as this video on Twitter shows. He called it a love song in the made in the AM interview (6 mins) and that it wasn’t literal in another. I do love this James Cordon bit and I love his Taylor smile so much.

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Louis] I might never be your knight in shinin' armour I might never be the one you take home to mother And I might never be the one who brings you flowers But I can be the one, be the one tonight

Grapejuice, has the perfect (get it) call back to this verse, along with 'Red' and 'Pay for it' and I love him for it:

"I was on my way to buy some flowers for you (ooh) / Thought that we could hide away in a corner of the heath / There's never been someone who's so perfect for me / But I got over it and I said / "Give me somethin' old and red" / I pay for it more than I did back then"

[Pre-Chorus: Liam] When I first saw you from across the room I could tell that you were curious, oh, yeah Girl, I hope you're sure what you're looking for 'Cause I'm not good at making promises

Promises come up again in Woman "Promises are broken like a stitches is", which is interesting if both Woman and part of Perfect are written after the 2015 BBMAs.

‘Know what you are looking for’ is interesting. In "Say don't go" and the 1989 TV Vaults in general Taylor did not get what she was looking for. At 23, dating a 19 year old Taylor told us she didn’t get wavy she needed. Her most recent ex, JG was 29. (yes - JG was the age Harry is now! Imagine if he did that) So I kind of stand by this line.

The start refers to the night they met. Which neither has ever confirmed, I think it was in 2011 (see timeline) Many look at the coat he tries on in the music video, which matches both his Up All Night Tour outfit (from December 2011) and the 2012 Kids Choice Awards. The awards are fun though. The Up All Night DVD also has it.

[Verse 2: Niall] I might never be the hands you put your heart in Or the arms that hold you any time you want them But that don't mean that we can't live here in the moment 'Cause I can be the one you love from time to time

Urgh I choose to attribute 'love from time to time' to one of the 6 other people writing this. To me this line always sounds like a boy-band heartthrob priority playing out in the writers room. No wonder it took time and HS1 to overcome this.

However, this does speak to a theme of them not being available to each other because of their careers and 1D punishing schedule. If I could fly's "I'm missing half of me when we're apart" and Half the World Aways " So you're not my girlfriend / Don't pretend that makes us nothing / Tell me you don't miss this feeling" speaks more honestly to the interplay of his band image, schedules and priorities which Taylor referred to Suburban Legends.

[Chorus: Harry, All] But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms And if you like having secret little rendezvous If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn't do Then, baby, I'm perfect Baby, I'm perfect for you And if you like midnight driving with the windows down And if you like goin' places we can't even pronounce If you like to do whatever you've been dreamin' about Then, baby, you're perfect Baby, you're perfect So let's start right now

Here are Haylor themes we know and love, Driving at midnight (Style, HYGTG, Wish You Would) generally going from a high schooler to superstar overnight (placed they can’t pronounce like Cannes), and hidden love/hiding (I Know Places, Slut!)

[Bridge: Harry] And if you like cameras flashin' every time we go out Oh, yeah And if you're looking for someone to write your breakup songs about Then baby, I'm perfect And baby, we're perfect

The camera’s flashing is good imagery and his voice brings to life how personally challenging it was for them both in a way I Know Places didn't with very few words. Taylor also refers to this imagery in Is it over now?

But the break up songs is a low blow and I assume the part he regretted to the point of not wanting to sing it. In a later interview Harry said:

“The only time you really think, ’is this song too personal?’ is if you think about, ‘is this going to be really annoying for the other person?’ Because I do [care],” he finished.

Which I think the break up song line would have been very annoying.

If you made it through that reward yourself with Grapejuice at Wembley 🍇