quarter face

anonymous asked:

How should someone respectfully salute a woman they met for the first time?

Thank you for coming to me with this question.

The first thing you absolutely must do is accept the fact that a woman met for the first time will take it as a grave insult if you have no visible muffin on your person. Understandably one can’t be expected to carry around a muffin at all times, so if you come upon a woman whom you haven’t met before and you are, at the time, unmuffined, you should immediately cover both of your eyes with you left hand, and place yourself flat on the ground, face down, as quickly as you can (use your right hand for support). Then you must emit a sharp whistle, followed by a long voiceless alveolar trill, transcribed thus: [r̥ːːː]. This will indicate to the unmet woman that you mean no disrespect, and were simply caught off-guard by her sudden appearance. At this point, the unmet woman should continue on her way. Be aware that it is within her rights to step not just over, but on your body as she continues on her way (for more on this, see Corbitt v. Russell). If you believe that the unmet woman has moved out of your line of sight, you should ask as loudly as you can, “Are the frocks still on the bannister, or hasn’t Uncle Harry explained?” If you receive no response, you are safe to get up off the ground and continue your day. If the unmet woman is still within earshot, though, she will began to shake and hiss violently. If you hear this, it’s advisable to remain on the ground and to keep still and quiet. Don’t try asking again until a full hour has passed.

Now, assuming you do have your muffin with you, should you come across an unmet woman, you need not be alarmed. Whether or not the unmet woman has caught sight of you, you must immediately say, “Hop! Hop!” Say it quite loudly, but no need to shout. If the unmet woman is unaware of your presence, this will draw her attention. If she is already aware of your presence, though, she will take it as a sign of respect that you still went to the trouble of saying, “Hop! Hop!” With that done, place your muffin in your left hand, and then with your right hand, tear off a small piece. Having done so, raise your right knee quite high in the air (as high as you can), and then step down nice and forcefully, while at the same time executing a clockwise quarter turn. Facing this direction, toss away the bit of muffin in your right hand proclaiming, “To the sun!” Execute the same series of steps, and then, when facing away from the unmet woman, proclaim, “To the moon!”, and toss your second bit of muffin away. Repeating the same steps and facing a new direction, you will toss your third bit of muffin away, proclaiming, “To the moon!”* Finally one executes the last quarter turn and, rather than tossing, eats the last bit of muffin, offering, after the bit has been swallowed, “To a divine morning of auspicious portent.” At this point one executes a half turn, facing completely away from the unmet woman, and sits down, cross-legged. The muffin is then placed upside-down atop one’s head. If the muffin stays, the woman is considered respectably met. If the muffin falls forwards, towards the greeter, the meeting has gone awry, and the entire affair is considered a failure. If the muffin falls towards the unmet woman, she may replace it on the greeter’s head and give it another try, or she may toss the muffin in the street, continuing on her way. If the muffin falls in any other direction, this is considered a draw, and both parties continue on their way, officially having never met.

Regarding the type of muffin, there are at least nine different major opinions on the matter. Naturally, attitudes have changed through time, but most commenters agree that a non-apple cinnamon muffin is the safest bet. It’s prudent to avoid fruit flavored muffins of any kind before Labor Day. After Labor Day, it really depends on whom you ask. Most agree that apple is always in season, but Collins (1913) disagrees sharply. According to Collins, the only suitable fruit flavored muffin after Labor Day is lemon, but both Chesterfield (1869) and modern commenters Selwig (1994) and Mayors (2002) suggest lemon muffins are suitable only in the spring. As noted in Malcolm, Rodriguez, & Morgan (2016), modern women are far less traditional than in decades past, so it’s best to adhere to recent surveys of woman meeting practices, like Dante (2004), Huang (2007), and the seminal 2011 study “Muffins in the New Millennium: How modern women are redefining the commoditization of space in nouveaux interpersonal interactions” by Mansfield, et al.

The important thing is to not think too much about it. It always seems like a big to do on paper, but the truth of the matter is we meet many woman every single year, and with Amazon’s Prime Now, purchasing fresh, interesting muffins has never been simpler—or cheaper. So relax! When a new woman comes along, so long as you’ve got a muffin with you, you’ll know what to do.

(Oh, but of course, NO BANANA NUT MUFFINS. lol Sometimes it’s so obvious you feel like you don’t even need to say it, but in the interests of being thorough, there you go. And again, I really am just being thorough; please don’t take it amiss that I’m stating something so obvious! After all, we all have to learn some time, and this post may be someone’s first exposure to the art and science of respectfully saluting women.)

*For those wondering why one says “To the moon!” twice in a row, it’s actually a bit of a historical accident. Originally, one said, “To the mode!” This persisted until the 19th century, when some confusion was introduced into the system. In territories west of the Mississippi, it was common to say, “To the main!” on the third toss [for obvious reasons, given the region], and this custom was passed on in various forms further west and to the south. These individuals misinterpreted the word, though, and simply substituted a second “moon” in its place. This is the wording that came into vogue in California, when the short silent film A Dame for to Court was shot. The film was a hit, and played in theaters all the way from Avalon to Albany. Younger folk especially began to replace the original “mode” with “moon” as a direct result of the film’s influence. This at the time was known as “Doing the Dame”—a phrase which was grossly misinterpreted in later years. Its origin aside, though, the practice persists to this day.

WiP Wednesday

He slams the doors on whatever cheerful single entendre Christophe is about to say under the guise of being helpful, then leans back against them, eyes falling shut. For just a moment, Victor allows himself the luxury of feeling his own heart roar in his breast, of relearning the pathways his blood takes to pool and pound in his ears, of giving into the compulsion to clench his fists around the hilt of a broadsword, or a neck — all familiar on the field of battle. Enduring it all now without the bloodthirst is awful.

Exhaling shakily, he opens his eyes and finds he is not alone.

Lounging on Victor’s bed, sprawled out as though he were still the greedy brat from years ago demanding Victor read him another story before being kicked out in favor of sleep, Yuri gives him a black look over the edge of the parchment clutched like prey in his hands.

There’s no sense in delaying the inevitable, so Victor smiles and waves his hand; an invitation. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

Yuri clears his throat so loudly that it feels like an expletive, then begins grandly, “His royal highness, Viktor Maxim Ivan Vladimir Karl Alexander Sergei Nikolai Ilya H —” Yuri pauses, then barks a laugh. “‘Hermann’.”

“Hermann,” Victor confirms, sighing. There’s one in every family.

… Pyotr Gleb… is giving a ball.” Yuri sneers, teeth bared like a tiger. How anyone could believe him to be a spectre born of ice and swan’s feathers is a mystery lost to the ages. “’… All eligible lords and ladies are invited to attend…’ I hope you aren’t under the impression that I’m going to be present for this farce.”

“Will you not support your brother in his time of great need?”

Yuri gives an inelegant snort. “I’ll be too busy moving my things into your room. You won’t need it after the unwashed masses finish tearing you to shreds in hopes of claiming a piece of you. I think my bookcases will look splendid against the wall over there.”

“You really won’t go?”

“I’d rather be drawn and quartered.”

In the face of Yuri’s familiar mulishness, the urge to shout I am not a prize —ever since his mother turned upon him a chilly stare and announced he was to sign his life away to a stranger by the ball’s end or she would find a suitable spouse for him (”If you do not do this, my dear, your father might actually deny you the crown and live forever just to spite us both, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction.”)— ebbs like the tide, and Victor relaxes into a real smile. “That is too bad. I hear the good Hero of Kazakhstan means to attend.”

Yuri goes still and says, flat as sword and twice as sharp, “Prince Otabek is coming.”

“So I’ve been told.” Victor shrugs off his jacket with not a little relief. Despite the slide of summer into autumn, the sun shows no sign of relenting its heavy hold on the kingdom. “Last we spoke, he was all talk of you… insomuch as he talks, which isn’t very. You must have made an impression at the trade negotiations, but if your aim is to be elsewhere the night of this idiocy, I will send along my apologies so he does not make a needless trip —”

There’s a sudden flurry of movement as Yuri rolls off the bed and spills to the floor, and Victor can do little except step aside as his brother blasts by and kicks the doors open. 

“So… shall I expect to see you there?”

Yuri sniffs and tilts his chin up just a bit in a bid to look aloof. All it serves to do is catch the light on the red flush in his cheeks. “I suppose I can find it within me to witness our dear parents set you upon the auction block, if only so I can laugh myself sick when some country bumpkin covered in pig shit wins you.”

Victor grins. “Otabek will be pleased to see you.”

The flush deepens to scarlet. Yuri turns his face away, but not fast enough to hide the small smile there. “I hope they give you to an actual pig.”

Knighted- Chapter 4

longest one so far, but not too long to enjoy. Bunch of stuff in this one! rather liked it. Let me know what you think! seeing people enjoy it makes it all the more fun to continue!

Keep reading

This week a highly unusual coin, a three quarters facing portrait of Postumus, the Roman general-turned rebellious emperor of the western Empire.

In 260 CE Postumus and his armies rebelled against the rule of Gallienus and took over the provinces of the west, including Britain, Spain, Gaul, and Germany. Unlike many third century emperors, Postumus ruled for nearly ten years until he was eventually killed by this own troops.

This aureus was struck in Trier, late in his reign, and displays an untypical facing portrait. The engraving shows considerable skill and produces a convincing likeness. This style would not become common for another two centuries, and the modeling did not match this piece. The rest of Postumus’ coinage shows the more typical profile, suggesting that this issue was special and made by a mint master of considerable skill.
Shadowed Eyes, Red Veins

I finished replaying In Hushed Whispers and had an urge to write a scene that’s been in my mind since I first played it. So I finally did!

Rating: T (alcohol use, references to alcoholism)
Pairing: Pre-romance Solavellan


Her legs swing over the edge of the dock, just a little too short to reach the edge of the frozen waters. The not-a-Magister was at her side; wrapped head to toe in several layers of robes and furs to protect from the cold. She couldn’t remember what the term was that he corrected her with was; there were so many different human titles to keep track of, and they were different if you were from Fereldan, Orlais, Tevinter… though she supposed It didn’t matter too much. He was Dorian, and right now he was probably the only person who understood what was she was processing. No words passed between them when he found her sitting out alone by the frozen lake and joined her, and none were needed.

Keep reading

The Arrangement: Chapter Five

Author’s Note: This little scene was meant to be short but it ended up needing to be longer, so I made it into its own little chapter! I’m so keen to write Chapter 6 because things might get a lil fluffy…

Also, I thought it was time for a GIF change haha enjoy :) 

Feedback is always appreciated, happy reading!

Masterlist

Originally posted by tfareylo

“Have you learned nothing this past month? If you become distracted for one second in battle, you will die.”

“I know,” you mumbled, picking up the training stick that Kylo had easily knocked from your grip. Your combat skills were steadily improving, though they were still nowhere near a match for him.

You waved the stick lazily towards him, and once more Kylo knocked it from your hands and lightly tapped his own weapon to your shoulder.

“Disarm me,” he instructed, handing you the stick.

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

You dropped your training weapon and crossed your arms.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You were feeling particularly miserable today, that’s all it was. You looked up at him, seeing your own reflection just slightly in his helmet. You looked an absolute mess.

Shrugging, “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not.”

“Why do you care?” You asked, lightly tapping the weapon from his hands, knowing he wasn’t at all focused on it, “There. Happy?”

He frowned beneath his helmet. He understood that training daily was taking its toll on you, but you hadn’t physically shown your exhaustion until now. He meant what he had said to you earlier, he cared for your wellbeing. The Supreme Leader had commanded Kylo took watch over you, and he was doing his best to adhere to that.

Since the attack on the original Starkiller Base, the First Order had kept a low profile while it rebuilt and recovered from its losses. While the threat of the Resistance remained, Kylo felt that you would not engage in a confrontation with them at least in the near future— Maybe he was overworking you. Your training was certainly proceeding far quicker than his did with Snoke. That thought gave him an idea.

Sighing, Kylo also dropped his weapon, “We’re done for today. Ensure that you are well rested for tomorrow, I won’t show such leniency if this happens again.”

You nodded gratefully and rushed out of the room, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you headed straight for your quarters.

Meanwhile, Kylo went to Hux’s office. He opened the door, not bothering to knock first, and was greeted to a scowling look by the General.

“What do you want?”

“Arrange an audience with the Supreme Leader immediately.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Hux muttered something under his breath before pressing something on his datapad, “How’s the Princess?” He asked as he kept his eyes glued to the screen. He had barely seen you since you arrived.

“Fine.”

“Her progress?”

Fine.” 

“Fallen in love with her yet?”

Kylo slammed his fist on Hux’s desk, “Shut up.”

Hux gave him an amused look before finishing his work on the datapad, “Be in the meeting room in ten minutes.”

Kylo nodded, “You’ll need to be there too.”

“What in the galaxy is this even about, Ren?”

Kylo said nothing before he slammed the office door and made his way to the meeting room. Hux entered shortly after Snoke’s towering hologram appeared.

“What is it, Commander Ren?”

“Supreme Leader, I wanted to ask for your permission to speak with Y/N’s father.”

Hux looked confused while Snoke responded, “What business do you have with the King? You met with him just over a month ago, surely any matters you needed to discuss with him were already taken care of,” Snoke said.

“I believe he will want to hear of his daughter’s progress,” Kylo responded.

“He left the Princess in the First Order’s care, her progress is not his concern.” Hux said.

“I believe it will strengthen our alliance, Supreme Leader. Show the King that we have nothing to hide from him.”

Snoke hummed in agreement, “Perhaps you’re right. I’ll send for him at once—”  

“No, I-I,” Kylo faltered slightly, “I would rather visit him.”

“A diplomatic mission sounds more like a task for me, doesn’t it?” Hux said.

Kylo nodded, “General, you will accompany me.”

“I assume you wish to take the Princess with you?”

“Yes, Supreme Leader. Her training will not be affected by this visit.”

“I would hope not, Ren.”

“Oh please, she is obviously the reason for this ridiculous trip! Why are you indulging her?” Hux asked, agitated.

“Has she expressed the desire to return home, Commander?” Snoke asked.

Kylo looked briefly at Hux before he continued, “No. But the Princess has become…melancholy.”

“And is it affecting her training?”

“Yes, Supreme Leader. She needs something to re-focus, perhaps lift her spirits.”

“Well you are her husband, surely you can take care of that,” Hux smirked.

Kylo felt the heat rising to his cheeks, and he was thankful that Hux couldn’t see him underneath the helmet.

Snoke ignored Hux’s comment, “Then you may bring her with you.”

Kylo nodded while Hux frowned, “I would be careful that we do not allow the Commander to be influenced by the Princess’ whims in the future, Supreme Leader.”

“She didn’t ask for this, General. I have made that quite clear.”

Hux raised an eyebrow, “Then you’re being awfully thoughtful towards your apprentice.”

“That’s enough General,” Snoke commanded, “If the Princess’ training is being affected, I see no problem with this matter. I trust you won’t either.”

“Fine.” Hux said before storming out.

“You may leave, Ren,” Snoke said, “Ensure the girl is back to her normal self when you return.”

Kylo nodded before making his way to your quarters.

You were lying face down on the bed, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You shot up at the sound of the blast doors opening and quickly wiped your eyes as you heard Kylo’s footsteps enter the bedroom.

“What is it?” You sniffled.

“I’m taking you home,” he said.


Tag List (Send me a message if you want to be included!)

@lust-for-pan @bluechood @classy-sassy-smart-assey@trashforthefirstorder@basicallybucky @steadyprincesoul@kylocanyounot@smadrat @evelinvargassss @qxeen-vmvndv @sithlordalice@kyrasailer @sithlordceci @the-fastest-mutant-sith @kylorenslips @blue-child-obsession-expert @ineedyourlaughs @whiny–pissbaby @myweirdfangirlstuff

Skype

Brendon Urie smut (after 143282 years)

warnings: cybersex?? , masturbation, nsfw

Originally posted by brainstewz


As you opened you laptop placing it in front, the screen went off displaying the red and green buttons along with Brendon’s icon which signalled for a skype call. Eagerly answering the call, the screen moved to Brendon’s face who was shirtless and drinking beer.

“Hey babe,” Brendon smiled automatically making you too smile. “I missed you.” You pouted through the screen.
“I missed you too, baby.” He told but quickly adding, “Daddy misses his little girl so much.” as his lips transformed into a devilish smirk.

Keep reading

Trust Me

Admin Marie

A/N: I’ve decided to start a chaptered fanfic! It probably won’t be long, maybe 3 chapters? I haven’t decided yet but I’m working on it. 

Word Count: 2002

Genre: Single Parent!AU Angst Fluff

Member: Mark (Got7)

Summary: You became a mother of a beautiful girl named Jisoo at just 16 years old. After her father ran out on the two of you, you wrote your love life off and devoted everything you had to your daughter. Everything changes when you meet a gorgeous stranger who takes interest in Jisoo and your lives.

Warnings: Language

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Originally posted by sxy-jmn



To become a mother at 16 was a huge blow to your life. You never regretted having Jisoo, your daughter, but it is hard to raise a child all alone. Your parents supported you endlessly and never got mad over your teen pregnancy, much to your surprise. They probably would’ve been harsher with you if Jisoo’s dad hadn’t ran off because he was scared.

You aren’t Korean, but Jisoo’s dad is. You moved out to Korea when you were 13 years old because your parents got a job offering in Seoul and they couldn’t refuse. You met Jisoo’s dad when you were 15 years old and you two rushed into a relationship and then Jisoo happened. You were scared, to say the least, but you love your daughter.

Now, you’re 20 years old and Jisoo just turned 4. You both live alone in your small apartment in Seoul. Jisoo is a smart girl, actually looking quite like her father, showing more of her Korean roots than the roots you provided, although she looked a fair both like you too. Jisoo is very kind, never even dreaming of hurting a fly and very clingy to you, hating when you have to leave her at your parents house so you can go to work.

You work at a café in the middle of Seoul. It’s about a 15 minute commute from your apartment. You hate leaving your daughter, but you have to so you can live. Your parents have offered to pay for you to go to university but you always refuse, never wanting to take their money that they worked hard to make. Your parents made an insane amount of money on a project so your mom retired to help take care of Jisoo. Both your parents were young parents themselves, so they felt really sympathetic towards you because they knew what it was like to take on such a huge responsibility.

Your younger brother, who is only 16, adores Jisoo. He’s a highschool student but whenever he comes home and his niece is sitting on the floor of his living room or napping in his bedroom, he gets really excited. It warms your heart to see your brother be so excited over your daughter.

“Jisoo, what are you drawing?” You ask the small, brown haired toddler who’s perched on the floor, a purple crayon clutched in her hand, leaning over her colourful paper.

“I’m colouring a rainbow, mommy,” She replies, her eyes not leaving her paper. You smile at her, relaxing into your chair a little more. You worked double shifts at the cafe today and you were absolutely exhausted. “Mommy, are you sleepy?” Jisoo asks, her attention falling on you instead of the paper in front of her.

“Nope, not at all, Soo. Do want a snack before bed?” You ask, checking the time.

“No thank you,” She says, yawning and stretching her little arms above her head.

“Bedtime?” You ask. She nods and holds her arms up for you to carry her. You laugh softly and pick her up. She giggles and snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, brown hair tickling your cheek. You place her on the floor of her bedroom and get out her favourite pair of pajamas. She changes and you take her to the bathroom. You two brush your teeth at the same time, and you brush her long brown hair. She yawns again as she climbs into her bed and pulls the covers up to her chin.

“Mommy?” She asks.

“Yes?” You reply, eager to hear the young girl’s request.

“Can you read me a bedtime story?” She asks. You nod, walking to her bookcase and pulling out a book that you know is your favourite. As you read the book, she just gets more tired and more tired, her eyes drooping and eventually fluttering shut.

“Goodnight, Soo,” you whisper, kissing her forehead and walking off. You hop into the shower and after getting out, you blow dry your long hair, carefully. After you’re done, you pull on a large shirt and shorts and crawl into your bed, thinking about how happy you are to have the daughter you do.

The next day, you get up and get yourself and Jisoo ready, feeding your toddler breakfast and getting her into your old, beaten up car. You knock on your parent’s front door, waiting idly outside. Your brother, Matthew, opens the door and yells happily when he sees you and Jisoo.

“Soo! Sis!” He exclaims. You laugh.

“Matt!” You exclaim.

“Mattie!” Jisoo exclaims, holding her arms out for Matthew. You pass your daughter to your brother.

“I gotta go to the café. I’ll see you later,” you say, kissing Jisoo’s cheek and ruffling your brother’s hair before walking down the front walkway and into your car. You turn the radio on, jamming to a Monsta X song. When you get to the cafe, you walk inside, going into the back and pulling on your apron and pinning your name tag on. You take a deep breath, getting ready for your day. You walk out of the back and hastily take over the cash register.

Your day starts like every other, with you taking orders, placing money in the cash register, wiping down tables and making drinks. You’re about half through your shift when a gorgeous man walks up to the cash register. You’re awe struck for a second but you brush it off, knowing you’re at work and have no chance with this man, nor do you want one.

“What can I do for you?” You ask. The man smiles, showing off a row of pin stright, white teeth.

“Can I have a chai tea latte please?” He asks. You nod, grabbing a cup and  writing his order on the side.

“What’s the name for the sup?” You sask.

“Mark,” He replies. You write his name on the cup and set it beside you. You’re understaffed right now so usually another barista would pick up the drink and make it while you continued to work the cash register, but that wasn’t the case. He pays you for the drink and you pick up his cup, walking to the coffee machine. You follow the correct procedure to your drink making process. Mark watches you like he’s enthralled with what you’re doing. You finish, snapping a lid on the hot drink and placing it on the counter.

“Here’s your latte,” You say. He smiles brightly.

“Thank you,” He replies. You smile in return and he takes his rink and sits down in the corner of the empty cafe. The only people on there are you and Mark and it’s painfully obvious to both of you.

“So are you a University student?” Mark asks, surprising you.

“No, I’m not,” You reply. He scans you again.

“I thought you were at least 20, that’s why I asked,” He says.

“I am, 20. I am not a University student though, this is all I do,” You reply.

“Why not?” He asks. You shrug, perplexed in his interest in you.

“It’s kind of complicated. I wanted to go to university when I was a teenager but I ended up not,” You reply, wiping a table beside Mark’s off.

“What changed?” He asks. You shrug again.

“A lot. My priorities changed and I’m living a different life now than what I ever imagined,” You admit.

“Was it a boy who changed your priorities?” He asks. You’re about to respond when the front door opens and you hear your daughter’s excited squeals. You stand up immediately and watch as Jisoo runs in, Matthew and your mom right on her heels.

“Mommy!” Jisoo squeals, running over to you. You pick her up and placer her on your hip.

“Soo! How are you?” You ask.

“I’m good, mommy.” She replies. You smile at her and set her on the floor. She sees Mark who’s watching you both curiously.

“Who are you?” Jisoo asks Mark, staring at him.

“Jisoo, that’s not polite,” You chide.

“It’s all good. I’m Mark, what’s your name?” He asks your daughter.

“My name is Jisoo and I’m four years old!” She exclaims, holding up five fingers. Mark smiles warmly at your daughter.

“Y/N, I want a frozen hot chocolate,” Your brother whines.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m coming,” You playfully reply, walking to the front counter and fulfilling your brother’s wish. He hands you the proper amount of cash for the drink and you shake your head.

“I’ll get it for you, for taking care of Jisoo,” You reply. He shakes his head.

“Don’t be stupid, Sis. Take it,” He replies. You reluctantly take his money and place it in the cash register. Jisoo runs up to the counter.

“What can I get my princess?” You ask.

“White hot cocoa!” She exclaims. You make her the drink she wants and hand it to her, over the counter. “Thanks, mommy!” She exclaims. I run the the back and get the money the drink cost out of your wallet before putting it in the cash register. Matt and Jisoo walk out after getting their drinks, waving goodbye.

“So that’s what changed all your priorities?” Mark asks. You nod.

“I wouldn’t give her up for the world, though,” You reply.

“Was that her father?” He asks. You burst out laughing. Once you’ve calmed down enough to speak you know you have to explain well.

“No, no not at all. That,s my brother, Matthew,” You reply. Mark laughs along with you.

“I thought you two looked oddly alike,” He says. You smile to yourself as you mindlessly clean the front display. “So where’s her dad?” He asks. Your hand stops mid motion and your whole body goes rigid.

“I don’t like to talk about that,” You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat. You see him nod out of the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” He says.

“No, it’s fine. It’s a natural question to ask,” You reply, slowly moving your hand across the glass of the display again, working to get all the fingerprints off. The door opens and you watch as a blond man walks in.

“Mark!” He yells. You jump at his loudness and watch from a crouch behind the counter as five more guys walk in. “Is there no one working here?” The blond guy asks, looking around the small cafe, not seeing the top quarter of your face that’s peeking out from behind the counter. You stand up, leaning on the counter.

“I’m working here,” You say. Blondie scans you.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” He replies. “I’m Jackson!” He says. You raise your eyebrows, confused at why he’s telling you his name. When you don’t respond, he puts and slumps into the chair opposite Mark. The others all bow at you and sit down. You ignore their conversation and go to the back to fetch your phone and earbuds because you’re honesty so done, all you want is to go home and watch a kid’s show with Jisoo. You stick your earbuds in and walk to the front again, leaning against the back counter and patiently waiting for a customer to come in so you have something to do. You watch the table of seven guys as they talk intensely, sometime one turns and looks at you but turns away again.

You eventually get tired of their shit and when you’re about to whip out your earbud and tell them the fuck off, the girl who is working the next shift walks in. You pull your earbuds out and thank her and you go to the back and take off your name tag and apron, placing them in their designated places and grabbing your purse and exiting the back. You exit the shop and walk out into the crisp autumn air. When you look back to the warm glow of the cafe, Mark is already looking at you.

MILLICENT // MASTERLIST


Request: omg can you do a fic where hux is away from some trip or something and you’re like a high ranked officer and kylo talks to you lots bc he likes you and respects you but one night kylo steals hux’s cat bc he’s mad at him (as always) and the reader finds the cat and then kylo is like running down the halls in his sleepwear and no mask and finds millicent with the reader and he’s like wtf this is so cute and you’re like who are you to kylo and he’s like uhhhhh what other 6ft person do you know

A/N: Hello and thank you for the request! I’m amazed at how fast I was able to get this one done when usually it takes me a bit to do requests…I guess since this one was pretty length (the request) it narrowed it for me and made it a bit easier. Anyways, enjoy!

Warning: None

Word Count: 2.4K+


There was nothing like being in control–although it was temporary due to the fact the general was off on a trip–you enjoyed that everyone had to answer to you. Being the second highest in rank, Hux took it in himself to make you take over his position for the time being. Although it was a bit hectic and quite tiring, you didn’t mind. It kept you on your feet and everyone respected you; though they already had, it was hard not to like you. Unlike the commander and general, your personality wasn’t too strong of a quality.

Keep reading

Books and Injuries--Poe Dameron x Reader

Pain seared through your entire being as you were being wheeled to the infirmary. Your clothes were slowly becoming stained with blood and your vision was beginning to unfocus and blur with each passing second.

“Come on, (y/n), were almost to the infirmary. Stay awake for us, please,” a voice said to you. You groaned as another pang of pain struck you, this time coming from your left side. You could only make out colors now and even then they were all blurring together like the colors of a watercolor painting. Your breathing began to become labored and eventually, your vision turned dark. Unconsciousness was bliss.

Poe landed his X-Wing and hopped out of the cockpit. The landing strip was chaos as a few resistance members were arriving home from missions. Each one of these members had an injury of some sort. After placing BB-8 onto the ground, Poe left in search of someone who would know what was going on.

“Poe!” He heard his name being called by Finn.

“Finn! What the hell is going on around here?” He asked.

“There was an ambush by the first order during a reconnaissance mission,” Finn began, panic laced within his voice. Poe’s heart dropped. He knew about the mission that you were going on today and he had hoped that this wasn’t your team.

“Which squadron was it?” Poe asked hurriedly, eyes wide and heart pounding.

“5A,” Finn replied. Poe cursed to himself as he looked at the ground, worry beginning to take over his being.

“Have you seen (y/n)?” Finn shook his head. At that moment, Poe handed sprinted to the infirmary in hopes of seeing you with minor injuries and a smile on your face. As he passed, some gave him weird looks and others showed sympathy on their faces.

The medical bay was swamped with people, non of which being the one Poe was looking for. He quickly approached the desk.

“Is (y/f/n) (y/l/n) here?” He asked quickly, not wanting to waste another second. The woman nodded. “Room 1.”

“Thank you,” he said before walking to your room. His stomach was doing flips and turns as he trekked to your room. He quickly walked inside to see yoy laying on the bed in a mint green gown with bandages all over your body. An IV was inside of your arm and your eyes were still closed. The monitor beeped a steady tempo, revealing that you were still alive. Carefully he walked up to your bed and sat down on the chair beside it. Tears brimmed his eyes as he studied you more.

There was a bandage wrapped around your head, as well as a bandage around your left arm and shoulder. Your lip was busted and a bruise was starting to appear around your eye. Poe then reached his hand out, grabbing your cold left hand, holding back the tears. A knock disrupted the moment and he looked to see a doctor walking and stopping in front of the bed.

“She suffered some serious wounds to her abdomen, arm, and head. She’s lost a lot of blood, but luckily we were able to get her stable,” he said, now placing a hand on Poe’s shoulder.

“Is she going to be okay?” Poe asked, his voice quivering.

“As of now, yes. We will have to watch as she progresses, but if she keeps improving through tomorrow, she will be alright.”

“Thank you,” Poe said, placing his hand over the doctor’s on his shoulder. “When will she wake up?”

“Not for a while. Again, as I said, she lost a lot of blood so it’s going to be some time before she wakes up. You should be alright to get some food and change if you feel the need to,” the doctor said, leaving the room.

Around ten minutes after the doctor left, Poe decided that he was going to do what the doctor said.

“Hey, (n/n), I’ll be back in a little bit, I promise,” Poe said, placing a gently kiss on her hand. He was rewarded with only the sound of the heart moniter.

Poe left the infirmary and went to his quarters, where he was faced with BB-8. The small droid beeped in surprise as Poe entered and began to change into sweat pants, a T-shirt, and a jacket.

“(Y/n) is in the infirmary with some injuries, BB. I’m going to grab some food and head back there if you want to join me,” the pilot told the droid. A series of beeps erupted from BB-8 as he hurried out of the door and down to the mess hall. Sighing, Poe grabbed a random book and followed his droid, not wanting to be left behind.

Poe arrived back to your room with his droid in tow and a book in hand. He looked at the cover of the book.

“X-Wing Mechanics 101,” he said to himself. He scoffed as he sat down in the chair. You were still in the same position as you were when he left. BB-8 moved himself next to Poe and beeped wildy, seeing you in this state.

“She’ll be alright, she’s a fighter,” Poe told his companion and opening the book. “Looks like we’re going to learn about the mechanics of an X-Wing, (y/n).” Ruffling his hair, Poe began to read.

“The X-Wing is a complex machine that has the ability to fly and fire various weapons while also having the ability to house a pilot and any droid of the pilot’s choice. Understanding the abilities and mechanics of this complex machine from this book will make you not only a better pilot, but also allow you to have a better understanding of your craft,” Poe scoffed. “Yeah, as if. I didn’t read this and I’m the best pilot in the resistance.”

Poe glanced up at your form. You looked so peaceful and calm. Poe could only imagine the you were in when you were awake. He wished that he could have been there to protect you and to help you. He was glad that you didn’t die, at least not yet. He grasped your hand once more and studied your face, remembering the way your dimples would pop when you smiled or the way your nostrils flared when you laughed.

A quizzical series of beeps came from the orange and white droid to his left.

“I’ll tell her when she’s awake,” Poe replied to the droid. BB-8 countered him with three short beeps, causing the pilot to laugh. “You do have a point, bud. Anyways let’s get back to the book.”

Three hours had passed and Poe had only read through half of the book. A yawn escaped his mouth as he marked the page he was on and placed the book on the bedside table. BB-8 had left to recharge for the night.

“Y'know, I was expecting you to wake up and slap this book out of my hands,” he said to your still figure. “I’d be grateful if you did that for me. That way I can see that you’re really okay and I wouldn’t have to keep reading this boring thing. I bet the nurses who came in to check on you were so confused,” he laughed. “I’m sorry it’s such a dry book–it was the first thing I grabbed. Anyway I can’t wait for you to wake up. I miss your smiling, happy face short-stack.”

With that said, Poe stopped his conversation and stood. He walked out of your room and to the vending machine that was nearby, gabbing a bottle of water.

“It’s really sweet of you to read to your girlfriend while she recovers, even if it is about the mechanics of an X-Wing,” an accented voice said from behind him. A blush creeped onto his face.

“Thanks,” he said before heading back to your room, drinking some water from the bottle. He sat down. He held your hand once more and ran his thumb over your knuckles.

“I wish I had the guts to tell you this while you were awake, but I love you, (y/n). More than you can imagine. I rushed here as soon as I heard about what happened, hoping that you would be alright. I wish I was there to protect you, but then again you’re a tough cookie who can handle herself. I have to leave for the night, visiting hours are coming to close. Until tomorrow,” he said standing again and kissing your forehead goodnight.

Poe arrived to your room early the next morning after eating breakfast. He didn’t sleep well the night before, but that didn’t stop him from trying to sleep.

“Morning (n/n),” he said before sitting down. “I see you haven’t woken up yet.” The medical unit was silent this early in the morning, no visitors came this early, even though the hours started at this time of day. Poe held your hand once more, but this time he heard your heart moniter begin to speed up the slightest bit.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Poe said soothingly. The moniter began to go back to its or final pace. “That’s it. I guess you can hear me now. Unless you’ve always been able to hear me. Can you squeeze my hand?” Poe was becoming anxious as he awaited your response. He felt a faint squeeze, but it was there. A smile graced his features.

“Hey, take your time waking up, I’ll be here, I promise,” he said. You took a deep breath and calmed once more. “In the meantime let’s finish this book.”

It took only an hour more to finish reading the book that Poe had brought from yesterday. He placed it on the he table and watched you rest. Suddenly you began to shift, followed by a groan and followed by your eyelids opening to reveal (e/c) eyes. Poe pressed the call button for a nurse as he held your hand once more.

“Hey,” he said, tears beginning to pool from his eyes. You smiled a pained smile.

“Hey,” your voice croaked, causing you to cough and causing pain to surge through your stomach. You groaned. The nurse then walked in and checked all of your vitals and your responsiveness. Finally she started a morphine drip to help you through the pain.

“I thought you were gone,” Poe said, tears sliding down his cheeks. You smiled.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Besides, ever since you’ve started that book, I’ve been trying to wake up and throw it out the window,” you said. Poe began to chuckle.

“So I’m guessing you were able to hear some other things then,” he said, cheeks blushing. You smiled.

“Yeah. I never took you for the sappy type, Mr. Dameron,” you teased. “But I guess I love you too.” Poe’s face lit up as you said that and he placed a soft kiss onto your lips.

Procreation

Prompt by the Tumblr user @a-kabby-k;

“AU Post 1x09, After the Exodus’ disaster, about 150 people survived and found a way to repair the Ark. They don’t know if the 100 are still alive, so the council decided to do what it takes to ensure that the human race will survive and edicts a new law: Each person between eighteen and fifty years are obliged to have a new child.”

Much thanks to Lydia @charmingly-evil for all her help.
Unbeta-d. So beware.

FF.net    AO3


“Hello Jaha. Yes, our consummation date is scheduled for today.”

“I know, I was just checking in to make sure you have everything you need. How are you feeling?”

“How do you think?” Abby rolled her eyes and balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder before grabbing up her plates and taking them to her makeshift kitchen. Her room was devoid of any sound. Her husband was floated first then her daughter was sent down for a suicide mission.

“I know that we’re asking a lot from you,” Jaha spoke from the other end of the line. “But I would like to thank you for doing this. I know how difficult it must be for you, especially with Kane….”

“I’m not doing this for you Jaha, I’m doing this for our people, for the Ark.” she mumbled as she turned on the faucet and watched the cold water rain down on her dirty plates in the sink. “I can’t believe it’s come to this. It’s funny, isn’t it? Our ancestors had fears that we would over populate the ark. Never would they have imagined that we’d have the opposite issue.”

“You’re right, that’s why we’re all doing it.” Jaha, the voice of the reason, kept talking. “I should be seeing Callie tomorrow.”

“I just find it idiotic how I’m stuck with Kane.” Abby sighed and leaned back against the counter. “When there are plenty of other men on the Ark…”

“Abby, we’ve been over this. You two are-“

“Genetically compatible, yes I know.” She looked down on the ground. Did she even have a choice?

She swallowed before making her way to the bathroom, switching the phone from her left ear to the right. On the other end of the line, Jaha continued. “It is necessary for the survival of the human race.”

Abby had heard these words before. Yes, she had been hearing the Chancellor repeat them over and over again for the past couple of the days, ever since the Exodus Accident. Too many people were lost, thanks to Diana. If they weren’t careful, the humanity was going to become extinct. Abby understood the consequences. This was Jaha being careful.

“We need to repopulate the Arc.” Jaha spoke.

Keep reading

I believe very deeply in the human spirit and I have a sense of awe about it because I don’t know how people carry on. I’ve known people that the world has thrown everything at to discourage them, to kill them, to break their spirit. And yet something about them retains a dignity. They face life and don’t ask quarters.
—  Horton Foote