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wanderingjedi77 · 9 months

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Starlight Part One

Hera Syndulla x Fem! Reader

Summary: As a former 501st soldier, you've been assigned to the Ghost to get rid of whatever Imperial programming you have left. Hera is more then understanding.

Part One | Part Two

You had seen a lot in your 23 years.

Endor, Yavin, Ryloth, Chandrilla. The 501st were the first ones in and the last ones out. You were supposed to be better then the clone brothers who came before. But then the Empire lost, and everything shattered.

All you had known was the Empire. You lived for it. Would have taken your last breath for it. Had you not been captured after Endor and sent for re-education via the Ghost.

The first few weeks were tense. You didn't trust them and kept to yourself. You didn't want their filthy Rebel hands helping you with anything.

Until you had jammed the hydro-spanner, and it had shot back out, hitting you in the head. Jacen, Hera's son, had gotten her; he always stuck around you, and you admitted; he was a nice kid. You didn't mind. But you squirmed away from Hera, hand on your own wound; until she had pried your hand gently away to look at it.

"It's not too deep. You'll have a good bruise." She gently chided you; and you looked away as Jacen came back with the med kit, and Hera patched you up.

"Thank you." You managed to get out, and when you glanced at Hera she was smiling softly.

"You're welcome, y/n." She put one of her hands on your knee as she stood up and squeezed before leading Jacen away. You stared at the door as it shut and felt your stomach flip.

Rebels weren't supposed to be nice.

It was a few weeks after that you had enough courage to join Hera one evening in the cockpit. You were going to Lothal and wouldn't be there until morning. You glanced at her as she turned when the doors opened before making your way to the co pilots chair to sit down.

"Why are you up so late?"

"Why are you?" You countered quietly and Hera laughed.

"Soneone has to keep the ship running." Hera smiles, teasing. "Besides my favorite mechanic."

"I thought chopper was your favorite mechanic." You look at her, startled by how blue her eyes are in the semi darkness.

"He's my favorite droid mechanic." Hera replies. She turns her chair to face you. "You have nightmares don't you?"

"All the time." You answer honestly. "I dream I'm still fighting. About the brothers and sisters I have lost. "

Hera frowns. "Sometimes I dream I'm still fighting too." She shifts closer, and you freeze as she takes your hand, holding it gently. "Your going to be okay. You're safe here in this ship, with me."

You hesitate, "Thank you. I'm sorry I'm so horrible." You apologise.

"You're not horrible." Hera says gently. "I wouldn't let anyone around my family that I thought was horrible."

You nod and sigh, ducking your head; your eyes stinging. But a 501st soldier doesn't cry. Your swallowing hard, trying to keep your sobs quiet as Hera moves closer, pulling you into a hug.

"It's okay." Hera holds you tightly. "You're going to be okay." She rests your head on top of yours as you cling to her. God's, why were you acting like this? She was supposed to be the enemy.

By the time you stop crying, Hera is threading her hands through your hair, and you pull away enough to gently untangle yourself from her arms, although she perches herself on the arm rest to keep an arm around you.

"Better?"

"Yes." You offer her an embarrassed smile. "I'm not sure the last time I cried." You laugh slightly , relieved.

"It's good for you." Hera smiles back. She motions her head to the captains chair. "Let's keep you distracted for now. Go and sit there."

"This is your ship."

"Yes. Which means I can train whoever I want to fly it." Hera replies with a raised brow. "Are you arguing with me? Disobeying orders?"

You hesitate because the way she said that leaves little room for arguing. "No, general."

"Then I suggest you work quickly before I change my mind." Hera suggests. "I've seen the way you watch when I'm flying. If you wanted to learn, you could have asked."

You want to say it wasn't the flying you were interested in, but the pilot. Instead you sit up and move to the chair, sitting down. Your in hyperspace, so there's not much you can do.

"You'll learn where everything is. And once you can do that I'll give you a more practical lesson." Hera moves to stand next to you.

"Now tell me what this is..."

#hera syndulla x reader #hera syndulla #star wars #star wars x y/n #star wars x reader #star wars x female reader #hera syndulla x fem!reader #star wars ahsoka #star wars rebels #star wars post endor

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “😄” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #reid fanfiction

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skzluvs · 4 years

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Wish you were gay; Hwang Hyunjin

Genre: Pure Fluff! Little bit of Angst

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.5 K

A/N: This is just a small filler since I’m currently working on a Felix Au! but I hope you guys really like it.

“Oh Hwang Hyunjin how much I wish you were gay

Your lack of interest it's been killing me inside

And I can’t stand another day with A growing pain inside my chest

You are cold hearted

Always living up to your title "Ice prince"

I'm the only one who knows you aren't as ruthless as you pretend to be

I have the ability to see right through your persona

But you continuously keep on pushing me away

Despite all of your attempts to avoid my feelings

I'm still here trying to make you understand that my love for you is genuine

Only if one day you were able to see that I'm here

That I've been trying to make you feel okay

As you seem to ignore all of my efforts

I wish you were gay so I could feel less miserable at your indifference”

Who’s not yours but dreams to be sincerely Y/N.

You walked through the corridor holding the little pink notebook which held the unaddressed letters as you were never able to deliver them. They were meant to say all of those unwanted thoughts that lately became loud in your head. You wondered if one day you were going to be able to say all those things to Hyunjin face to face.

Impossible, you thought as you shoved the book into your matching pastel pink backpack. You took a seat at the back of the classroom. Because you knew he liked to seat there. Where he couldn’t be bothered by the rest of the students.

You waited impatiently for his entrance. As usual he will be early because he hated the unnecessary attention. Nonetheless he already got enough for being the most popular student on the whole school.

You tapped your pencil into the desk in exasperation as you heard steps coming your way. You bit your lip trying to suppress the smile that was slowly creeping into your face. There he was wearing a simple white hoodie along with his denim jeans. Casual but still dazzling.

And the truth is that Hwang Hyunjin would make anything look good.

- Hyun...”- you tried to call him but as he walked passed you he didn’t even spared to look your way and continued his tracks to his own seat.

Your smile suddenly became a frown. It was not a novelty that you were being ignored by him but it still hurts to be treated so cruelly.

The bell rang announcing the end of the period

You tried to gather your things slowly as people ran their ways to the door excited for Lunch time. You didn’t mind staying a little longer to be alone with Hyunjin you knew how much he avoided crowds specially the ones involving frenetic students forming during lunch.

When the classroom was empty he stood up from his desk and walked with his hand on his front pockets. Always giving off that cool unapproachable vibe.

You were always mesmerized by his beauty but what attracted you was simply that stubbornness he tried so hard to maintain.

You didn’t tried to hold a conversation with him this time because you weren’t ready to be rejected twice in the span of an hour. Therefore you let him go as you watch him from behind.

After you have gotten your lunch you sat down in one of the tables that were outside the lunchroom. were everything seemed more quiet and reserved just like hyunjin liked. You knew his usual spot was just a few tables away from yours near the big blossom tree.

Pulling out your notebook you wrote

“You are colder than the winter but with a gaze that can melt

Open your heart to me and I’ll never let it freeze

Let me be the sunshine that warms your feelings up when it’s under 0 degrees”

And there he was eating his food in such a tranquil way that it even made you feel contented at the peaceful sight. Some girls approached him breaking the harmonious atmosphere.

You observed carefully as he send them death stares from disturbing him but they didn’t seemed to care as they sat down trying to caught his attention. You knew hyunjin couldn’t stand people following him and trying to talk to him just because of his popularity. So you thought about helping him even if he treated you as harshly as he treated the rest.

You made your way to the table. The girls were obnoxiously giggling and hyunjin kept on looking uncomfortably at the cold food that rested on his plate.

He was more of ignoring them than actually telling people off he acted heartless but he definitely wasn’t rude.

“Hey Ladies aren’t you supposed to have somewhere else to be” you said clearing your throat to make yourself noticed.

“Y/N don’t you have books to read go back to dreamland and mind your own business” The leader spoke, looking at you in disbelief.

Your knees shakes a little what were you doing standing up for the boy who didn’t even acknowledge your existence. It seemed stupid but you were surely not going to regret this.

“Books actually increase your intellect you should try reading some one of these days I mean there’s still lots of space in that empty head of yours” You backfired with confidence.

“ Are you trying to pick up a fight with me” she said defying me.

“certainly not, but hyunjin and I have things to discuss so I’m politely asking you all to leave”

“Hyunjin doesn’t have time to waste on someone like you Y/N stop saying nonsense and get lost”

“ Well it seems like he doesn’t want any of you here since you basically invited yourselves he’s just nice enough to not tell you that you are bothersome but I am not that nice so why don’t you go and trouble someone else’s lunch time” You smile sarcastically at them and they walked off not before telling Hyunjin they’ll talk later.

After they left silence filled out the whole entire ambience. You were about to speak but he turned his head looking the other way with his cold face. You weren’t expecting a thank you or anything but it seemed like your presence wasn’t too pleasant for hyunjin either.

knowing you were never going to be able to reach someone so highly illustrious as him you lowered your head. Thinking how stupid was for you to keep on trying you seemed like a push over that’s probably what he thinks of you YN- you said as a whisper before you pulled your bag from the table and threw it on your shoulder walking off with nothing but shame.

Back in the classroom you were writing math notes when a sudden thought came across your mind.

Today you had been ignored multiple times and you needed you pour all those sad thoughts into your confident. Scanning your bag the pink covered book was nowhere to be found and desperation was all you could feel.

You excused yourself from the classroom as you tried to search for that such important diary everywhere. At the lunchroom, at the tables, at the restroom, the hallways, your own locker everywhere.

You were about to go insane those pages held more than your immense admiration for hyunjin it held the pain of an unrequited love. If someone was to read your letters you were screwed.

What if the girls stole it and they tell hyunjin what if you become the biggest joke of the school and everyone laughs at how pathetic you truly are.

You were terrified to say the least you ran to the cherry blossom tree and slide yourself holding your knees as the tears started to fall off your face.

You felt a slight tap on your shoulder as you were Uncontrollably sobbing. You tried wiping your tears away trying to focus on the person in front of you with blurry vision you were still able to recognize his beautiful face.

“Y/N don’t cry” He said offering you a tissue.

He knew your name you were in a state of shock.

He always pretended not to see you what was he doing now.

When you calmed down a little he offered you a hand so you could stand up.

“Do you really wish I was gay?” he asked confused hiding a big authentic smile.

“What?” you asked even more confused than him until your brain clicked.

He knew

You went speechless your mouth went dry and all You wanted was crying again and hide forever the embarrassment of your worst nightmare.

“How-... I-” you said stumbling down your own words

He lifted a pastel pink covered book that he has been hiding all this time behind his back.

God you wanted to deny it all but you were into deep now. He had all the proof in his own hands.

“I don’t really think you meant it tho” he said getting closer to your face.

“You don’t really wish I was gay because if I was I wouldn’t be able to kiss you” He said almost brushing your pink lips with his own plump ones.

You closed your eyes hoping to close the proximity between them but they felt empty as he rapidly ran from you smiling

“You can kiss me if you can catch me” he said teasing me while holding the book.

I ran behind him giggling at his childish attitude.

For the first time You got to experience the real Hyunjin and You certainly couldn’t be more in love with him.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids blurbs #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #stray kids school au #stray kids au #hwang hyunjin #lee minho #han jisung #bang chan #lee felix #seo changbin #kim seungmin #kim woojin #yang jeongin #kpop #wish you were gay #billie eilish

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mind-reader1 · 6 years

Text

Queen of Hearts (Ch. 29 Part 2)

Drake x MC (Emma Barnes)

TRR AU: What would happen if Emma loved Drake but had to marry Liam?

Catch up here

Warnings: major angst

Note: I’m sorry. Next chapter we get to some even juicier drama (and some NSFW)!

Word Count: 1,171

Summary: It’s been 3 years since Drake and Emma got married, 2 since they found out she was infertile. How has treatment and the fake marriage affected them and their relationship after so long?

Chapter 29 Part 2: Better Life - P!NK

I've been up late watching you breathe Wondering if you're going to leave Don't tell me what you see That you actually believe it

But I've been up late nights Staring at the street lights All the cigarette smoke, can't escape a closing window And my head's like "what happened to you, it's alright" Baby, it's not alright What if we're a closing window

But I can't shake the feeling That you picture a better life, better wife, better nights, better high I can't shake the feeling (I can't shake the feeling) Do you picture a better life?

*** 2 years later ***

Emma was laying with her back to Drake, wide awake. More and more events had been calling Emma away for Royal duties and she could tell there was a rift growing between them. She had been through six rounds of IVF and they had all been unsuccessful, it was taking a toll on them. Last week had been the first time they'd had sex in months, whereas three years ago when they first got married they couldn't keep their hands off each other, now it felt like they barely looked at each other. She got up to get dressed because she was needed at the palace, they were holding a press conference today and she was dreading it. Liam had gotten Olivia pregnant, after lots of arguing about how they were going to explain it, they settled on telling the press that she was a surrogate for them since Emma couldn't get pregnant. She hated that she had to tell the nation, but it was important, rumors had already infiltrated the court, she seemed to be at the center of them all. A loveless marriage with Liam, her relationship with Drake in a bad place as they watched Kiara throw herself at him more and more every council meeting, rumors that Emma didn't want children, people even beginning to wonder if Olivia was really a surrogate. In an effort to spend some more time with Drake and try to fix what was wrong with them, she brought him to the palace for the press conference.

“Are you going to be watching?” She asked as she changed into a little black dress. Drake shrugged.

“I don't like watching you play house with him Emma.” She sighed.

“I don't either, but I could use a friendly face in the crowd.”

“Yeah, I guess I'll watch then.”

“Thank you.” Emma found Liam and Olivia, all of them walking out together to face the press. Cameras flashed the instant they appeared, Emma plastered on a fake smile and stood on one side of Olivia, Liam on the other.

“Thank you all for coming! We have an announcement we would like to make. Before we do though, we ask that you be respectful, and we will be answering questions at a later date.”

“As you're all very aware, I haven't produced an heir yet. This has been a trying time for us, and we have discovered that I….” Emma took a deep breath to calm her nerves and searched for Drake in the crowd, locking eyes with him. “I cannot have children; Lady Olivia has been so generous as to be our surrogate.”

“I'm just so glad I was able to help my friends, and, no the baby won't come out with bright red hair, Emma is still the baby's mother!” Olivia joked, and Emma prayed she was right.

“Yes, we're so grateful to Lady Olivia for helping us, we can't wait to finally start our little family!” Liam placed a hand on Olivia's very pregnant belly and Emma did the same, her smile faltering as Drake walked out of the press conference. They said good-bye to the press and Emma chased after Drake. She found him in the secluded courtyard he had taken her to after he won his duel, that felt like so long ago now as she stepped up beside him, staring into the fountain.

“Drake.” He wouldn't look at her.

“Drake please!” he finally looked up at her and Emma didn't like what she was seeing. He was upset, she could see it in his eyes, he had never looked at her like that though, only Liam.

“Give up the charade.”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about Drake.”

“The marriage, your marriage to Liam! Ask him for a divorce, give up the charade Emma!” she looked down at her feet.

“You know I can’t Drake. It’s not a good time.” Drake scoffed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Really? Give me one good reason you can’t end it now! It’s been three years since Anton was defeated. Liam's secured the crown, the people love him, now he's even got an heir. Do you not want everyone to know about me? Are you ashamed because you've been queen for so long?” Emma took a step back reeling, she couldn't believe he had even implied that.

“How could you say that?! I love you Drake Walker and if I could tell the world that right now I would! I can't though, if Liam and I got divorced now, think of the consequences. It would ruin my reputation; the tabloids would never leave us alone.” Drake laughed incredulously.

“You think your reputation and Liam's won't be wrecked when that baby has bright red hair? Everyone already whispers about it at court anyways. The problem is you won't commit Barnes, you won't commit to being with me.” Emma reached out for him, but he pulled away and she flinched. He hadn't called her Barnes while they were alone for three years, it sounded foreign to her.

“I lay in bed next to you every night Drake! I wake up, happy to be by your side in our home. I've been trying for three years to give you the baby we want so desperately. Tell me that's not commitment!”

“We're still hiding behind closed doors and you haven't given me one good reason why. Oh, and while we're at it, all this talk about kids was great before we got married, but let's be real. Those kids would be raised as royalty and I'd never stand a chance, it was a great dream, but it can never happen, I'd never get to be their dad.” Emma was crying as she tried to grab Drake's hand.

“That's not true Drake! They would be my kids too and I'll be damned if Liam takes that from us after everything else. I want nothing more than to be with you and only you Drake, but Liam would never give me the divorce even if I asked. It's just not possible.” He shook his head and forced back the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Then maybe this isn't working anymore Barnes. I'm done. I'm tired of sharing my wife, it's all or nothing.”

“Drake please!” She begged stumbling towards him, but he turned and walked away so she couldn't see the tears streaming down his own face. Emma fell to her knees, she couldn't believe what had just happened.

“Fine! Why don't you go fuck Kiara then! Everyone knows she's obsessed with you!” It felt like a nightmare. Drake had just left, just walked away without turning back. She didn't want to believe they were over, but his words were so final. She decided that she'd sleep at the palace tonight and go back home in the morning to talk to him after they both had some time to calm down, she couldn't believe that he would just walk away like that.

Next Time: Drake left, will they be able to fix things or are they done for good? Will Drake find comfort with Kiara or will he fight for Emma? Will Emma finally ask Liam for a divorce?

Tagging: @notoriouscs @brightpinkpeppercorn @ooo-barff-ooo @leelee10898 @princesstopgun @choicesyouplayandmore @sleepwalkingelite @roonarific @indigo39 @skyila @speedyoperarascalparty @andy-loves-corgis @furiousherringoperatortoad @drakewalkerfics @findingdrake @sue9659 @smritysriv @larryssunflower @likethetailofacomet @zaffrenotes @mrsdrakewalkerblog @agent-bossypants @endlessly-searching-for-you @cgd03 @simsvetements @jovialyouthmusic @akrenich @jlouise88

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cantankerouscanuck · 4 years

Text

This has been life for the last 10 years. Going through the motions, just trying to get through the day, putting in more effort into being alive and wondering what the point of it all is. When does the struggling end? When does the hurting stop? When can I stop pretending that I'm okay when I'm really miserable?

WARNING: very long and depressing and mentions of blood/self-harm

There's this discord server I run, it's part of a RP I've run for several years now. It started out good, but lately it's being going downhill thanks to me and the thousands of tons of emotional baggage. The usual routine now is I come up with plot points most of them don't like, this upsets me, I manage my emotions terribly and just like that everyone's in a bad mood.

Why's this a big deal? For a start, this server used to be one of the few safe places I had. With things the way they are now, degenerate alcoholism is tightening it's hold on me. But because this is my server, I'm responsible for keeping it going. And that means I'm apparently the only one who can do the job.

There was a time I could do that. Then came several moments that would come to define my life;

The first was an incredibly toxic relationship. Me, the pariah of every school I've ever been to, meets someone that says they were in love with me. While it did end, it's the manner in which it ended that stung; she went back to her vile ex without telling me and literally said "I don't think it'll be a problem, we can still be friends". I've been pushed around and treated like crap all my life and then she does that? I was borderline suicidal ever since. My ability to trust others died too, I've been constantly paranoid that literally everyone I meet is secretly plotting to use me like a disposable tool. And I really mean everyone who's so much as acknowledged me as an actual human.

Secondly, there was the year I lived with my brother. Fresh out of high school with no job, my parents figured the best course was to throw me out of the damn country and get my brother to get me ready for facing the world. He never asked too much from me, it was all rather fair and reasonable. The source of friction came from my inability to communicate in a way that he understood. That led to me not letting him know when I couldn't afford my share of the rent. The communication errors stems from how I "had to be less of a burden" for the family when I was growing up and that meant I was not allowed to feel any negative emotion but let everyone else rant and rage at me. So I've never healthily dealt with anything that's gone wrong with me since I was 13 and my brother was stuck with me. I really did try to be a good roommate, but my best wasn't enough. While I'm not surprised he kicked me out, the way in which he did so gouged out more of me; we were back home for Christmas and that's when he tells me that I'm not coming back with him, even though he said I was before we flew out and he still had most of my stuff. Just added that to another reason to never trust anyone ever again.

Another big part of why I'm a mess are my jobs. Despite my best efforts, I've only ever gotten dead end jobs. I was a good employee, got along great with my co-workers (the waitresses at this restaurant I worked at liked me because instead of flirting with them, I actually did my job) and I had a tendency for bringing snacks to the break room. All I got to show for it was a terrible paycheck and a mangled body. My jobs gave me carpal tunnel syndrome, chronic knee pains and a horrendous spine. But heavy labor jobs are all I can get, so I go to work with these terrible pains and my job is essential so no Quarantine time off to recover

Then there's my parents. My dad has no faith in me and makes that clear as he constantly criticizes everything I do, blames mishaps at work on me, and expects me to be responsible for literally every single thing (my sister once left her passport in the kitchen after she got it for setting up her bank account. Dad said it was my fault for not putting it back). My mum on the other hand did believe in me, but she didn't really know how to talk to me and vice versa. A lot of the times when she got mad there was actual justification for it, but something i recall clearly was when I had absolutely terrible moments. There was the first time I got called in to the principal's office (I was writing a hit list of my class that picked on me the whole year) and the time I couldn't sleep because my nightmares were both realistic and had a very deep resonance. Both times, she didn't even raise her voice. Just hugged me as she asked me to remember that she'll always believe in me.

These factors of my life are the most defining moments, they've shaped me into the god-awful horrendous mess of emotions and paranoia I am today. Biggest reason I'm typing this out is because ive hit my breaking point

This one guy on the server I run has been "calling me out" for awhile and that's been greatly upsetting me. First off, it's shattered any safety I've felt in that server. Secondly, all he's doing is reminding me of how bad I am which I already know

A lot of people kept telling me to go see a therapist, but it took me years to find one I could afford. And only a few sessions in and Quarantine kicks in so I'm not allowed to see her

If anyone's made it this far, I suppose you're wondering why I bothered making this. Quite simply because i dont know what else I can do. Because of how I've never been allowed to properly process issues my whole life, I don't know how to conventionally communicate. Sending pictures, songs and videos at random to try and tell people how I'm doing is really all I know, the other option being pushed too far and losing what little of my cool is left

There are times I feel like no one acknowledges what ive been through as "real pain" just because ive not been to tertiary education, or been physically abused, or the fact it's all in my head. A lot of people don't seem to understand that because it's in my head, it follows me everywhere. A lot of people don't seem to acknowledge that i really am trying. A lot of people keep telling me "just move on"

dont you think i wouldve moved on if i knew how?

#this is bad #this is why we can't have nice things #this is my life #this is fine

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