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wosospacegirl · 2 months ago

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And they were roommates - part 4

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate Kyra is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: kissing!!making out!! idiots falling in love!! team banter!!!

Word count: 4.7k

MASTERLIST

You can read part 1 here and part 5 here

Kyra thought that last night had been a product of her dreams. She had kissed Y/n, her long-time friend and roommate while watching ‘But I’m a Cheerleader’. And when she woke up, she was cuddling with Y/n, which made everything even better.

Kyra’s arm was spread out on the mattress while Y/n slept on top of it, mouth slightly open as she breathed quietly. Her cast was on top of a pillow and her other–and good – leg was intertwined with Kyra’s. Kyra didn’t want to get out of bed, especially when Y/n’s sleeping face looked so cute, but it was 6:30 in the morning and both girls had a big day ahead of them.

The girl enjoyed a few seconds of Y/n’s warm body against her, but before Kyra could say anything, Y/n began to move slightly, pushing her face closer to Kyra’s body until she was lying on her chest, her left arm hanging on Kyra’s shoulder.

The physical touch was welcomed by Kyra. She gently ran her hands over Y/n’s scalp. “Good morning,” Kyra said in a hoarse morning voice.

“Hmm,” Y/n murmured, not opening her eyes, feeling the softness of Kyra’s shirt against her cheek. “What time is it?”

“Almost 7.”

“Too early, wanna sleep more.”

Kyra stroked her cheek. “I know, but you can take a nap after we get back from Arsenal, yeah? You have physio today.”

“I forgot about that,” Y/n said, finally opening her eyes to look at Kyra. “You’re pretty, did you know that?” she said smiling, still a bit dazed from the deep sleep she had been in.

Kyra blushed slightly, but hid it with a grin “Is that why you kissed me yesterday? Because I'm pretty or something?”

“Yeah… or something.,” Y/n said, kissing Kyra softly on the lips.

Kyra froze for a moment, but quickly melted into Y/n’s kiss.“We're just doing this now, aren’t we?” Kyra asked, smiling. “I mean, I'm not complaining.”

“What? Kissing? I guess so if you still want to.”

“Great, I do, I wanna do it a lot.”

“A lot?” Y/n giggled. “Won't even make me work for it” she said teasingly.

“If your leg wasn’t broken maybe, I might not be so nice,” Kyra said, tapping her chin. “But since I'm still your caretaker, then yes, you get free kisses.”

Y/n smiled, cupped Kyra’s jaw and brought her face closer, their lips touching. and Y/n deepened the kiss, neither caring if the other had morning breath or not.

“You’re the best caretaker, ever” Y/n whispered against Kyra’s mouth.

“Glad you like it, I might put it on my resume for when I retire,” Kyra said. She hesitated at first, but gently placed her hands under Y/n’s shirt, feeling the skin on her waist. “So I can get a job afterwards, or whatever.”

Y/n shook her head and kissed Kyra some more. “No, I don’t wanna share you with other sad and injured footballers, I just want you for myself.”

“So are you admitting you like having me around?” Kyra said.

“I mean, you give great kisses and you always remind me to take my medicine, so yeah, maybe I do.”

Kyra loved hearing that she gave great kisses. The thought of being complimented by Y/n made her brain go fuzzy. It was quite an overwhelming and new feeling. So Kyra turned to what she knew best: jokes.

Kyra pumped her fist dramatically in the air “Yey! Would you mind repeating that again?” She picked up her phone and opened a recording app.

“Oh fuck off,” Y/n pushed the phone away, laughing. “We were having a moment.”

“Sorry, couldn't help myself, let’s just kiss some more,” Kyra said before filling Y/n’s face with kisses.

They didn't talk about it.

They didn't talk about any of the kisses they had shared. They hadn't mentioned whatever it was they were doing, not because they didn't want to, or because it was awkward, it was just because it felt normal. As if they'd been in this domestic routine for ages.

Kissing Kyra; telling her she was pretty; cuddling up with her at night…it was all normal, comfortable and serene. Their routine didn’t change, they continued to do the same things every day, except they kissed.

Y/n was always very focused on football. So focused that she simply did not care about other things, like romantic relationships. She put everything she had into football because she knew it was up to her and no one else. She didn’t really open up to people, especially those who weren't her friends, so it was hard to build any type of romantic relationship.

However, after all these weeks of living with Kyra, she’d realised that her friend had meant a lot more to her, and she wasn’t afraid to show it. It felt good to finally let go and relax, to put football and her long-standing fear of vulnerability aside for a moment.

This wasn’t Y/n’s first time being with someone, she had one-night stands before, but they’d been very…awkward. In the mornings, she and random girls Y/n had met in London’s nightlife would dance around ‘good mornings’ and ‘see you’ or even ‘we should do this again’. But it was all very superficial, as it had to be.

Y/n was not sure what Kyra thought of their thing but she seemed to enjoy it. Y/n didn’t want to put a label on it. She just wanted to kiss Kyra some more, cuddle with her through the night and overall just enjoy their little domestic, and pretty much, ordinary life.

They didn’t have to rush into it, or overthink it. Just live in it for a while. There was no big elephant in the room that needed to be discussed. There was just Kyra and Y/n, and she was grateful for that.

After a few minutes of lying in bed and doing nothing, the girls left the bed and went to the kitchen to start their day.

“You can add the mushrooms and onions now, but let it cook before you add the salt and pepper” Y/n said. She sat on the kitchen counter while Kyra stood by the stove, wearing Y/n's apron with the saying ‘I love stirring things up’. It looked cute on her, but the size wasn’t right.

Y/n made a note to buy an apron just for Kyra. She didn’t really enjoy sharing her things. Red flag, yeah.

Kyra had a frown on her face, if Y/n hadn't known they were only making omelettes, she would have thought Kyra was being sent off to war.

“I hate cooking,” Kyra muttered, stirring the mushrooms uninterestedly.

“We can't live off of cereal for the next months to come,” Y/n said, without looking at Kyra, concentrating instead on the recipe book in her hand. “Can you also chop the spinach for me when you're done?”

Kyra grumbled so that was a yes.

Y/n took the eggs and the bowl that were already on the counter and started beating the eggs with a whisk.

Y/n loved to cook. It was one of the most therapeutic things for her. She loved cooking for herself and for others. She took pride in eating something and being able to explain, step by step, what she had done and what ingredients she had used.

When she got injured the doctors had told her that she wouldn't be able to stand for long periods of time, so cooking and baking was promptly removed from the list of things she enjoyed, but couldn't do, along with football and morning runs.

This was the first day she had cooked since the injury. She had tried cooking standing up in her crutches but this had led to her falling over while trying to pick up ingredients from the pantry. She had cried her eyes out of anger before Kyra found her on the floor, a mess of tomatoes and beetroot down with her.

She felt frustrated and pathetic, but there was nothing she could do about it except accept that she was fated to eat Kyra’s bad food for a while.

A few weeks after that incident, she tried another strategy, the one she was doing right now: sitting on the counter while giving instructions to Kyra, but, of course, she got frustrated again because Kyra couldn't follow instructions and Y/n was too much of a control freak, so she gave up cooking one more time

However, something had happened between Kyra and Y/n–they kissed! Y/n hoped that since they shared quite a few kisses, they could successfully share a kitchen as well, so she tried cooking again.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Y/n shouted from the other side of the kitchen.

Kyra stopped putting whatever spice she was adding to the food and looked at Y/n confused, holding the spice jar in the air.“What? You told me to add salt and pepper on it after it was cooked!” Kyra said, defending herself.

“That's not pepper, that's paprika!” Y/n pointed out, hands down her face. “Now our omelette is ruined!”

“No, it's not,” Kyra made a face. “It's just paprika, not cocaine. We can eat it just fine.”

“Here, pass me the eggs,” she demeaned. “Are they frothy already?”

Y/n took the bowl from the counter, and put it behind her, trying to get out of Kyra’s reach. “We're not putting my eggs on that. I hate paprika, it makes everything taste horrible.”

Kyra was silent for a moment, her face stoic. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Yes.”

“Why the hell do you have paprika if you hate it, then?” Kyra questioned.

“You can't be a real cook and not have paprika in your kitchen.” Y/n shrugged.

Kyra tried to take the bowl from her again, but Y/n was quicker and got it out of the way, holding it to her body for dear life.

“I'm being serious! Maybe we can throw the anions, mushrooms and spinach mix away and you can make it again, using the right and correct seasoning this time.” Y/n suggested.

“You want me to chop the onions again?!” Kyra said with a gasp. “I just cried, chopping them.” She pointed at the onions as if they had hurt her.

“Maybe you can try wearing sunglasses this time?” Y/n pointed.

Kyra didn't respond. The girl just turned away and opened one of the upper cupboards, taking out three boxes of cereal with one hand and two bowls with the other.

She placed the cereal boxes and the bowls next to Y/n and pointed At each box. “Do you want Coco Pops, Raisin Oats or Weetabix?”

Y/n stared at the cereals, disgust on her face. “What?!”

“Cereal. Which one do you want?” Kyra pointed at each of the boxes again, repeating its brand name.

“I don't want cereal,” Y/n said, more sassy than she liked to admit it.

“Well, but I do,” Kyra said, picking up the Coco Pops one, and pouring it into a bowl.

Before taking a spoonful, she took a step closer and kissed Y/n on the nose, then packed her on the mouth. "You're way too bossy in the kitchen–my cortisol levels are through the roof,” she explained, taking a bite of her cereal.

Y/n pouted defeatedly, picked up the Raisin Oats and poured it into her own bowl, without saying a word.

Kyra tapped the spoon against the bowl in her hand. “Wow! That's actually so good,” Kyra said mouth=-full.

“You say that as if you haven't done this every day for the last week,” Y/n said grumpily, taking a spoon of her raising. It tasted so processed.

Kyra shrugged. “Well, at least your Raising tastes better than paprika anyway.”

Y/n and Kyra could share kisses and a house, but they couldn't share the kitchen, or even the same cuisine taste.

Kyra and Y/n arrived at Arsenal half an hour before the training. Which was plenty of time for Y/n to say hello to all the staff members and Win on her way in. Y/n didn’t realise how much she had missed the people she used to see every single day. All the staff members made sure to tell her how much they missed her too and wished her a recovery.

Y/n felt strange at first. In the changing room, everyone was wearing their training kit, and boots and had their hair up, ready for training, everyone except for Y/n, who stood in the middle of the room, and couldn't help but feel like the odd one out, even though all the girls assured her that she was still very much part of the team.

It was still difficult to be surrounded by such amazing players, and friends, while Y/n had only just learned how to walk on her crutches without stumbling.

“Look who's here!” Leah was the first to see Y/n, greeting her with a hug. “How have you been? Giving that pest over there a hard time?”

“Always,” Y/n said, winking at her captain.

“Y/n! I didn't know you were coming in today.” Alessia said, being the next one in line to give Y/n a warm welcome.

Y/n hugged Alessia as she waved at other teammates, who were just as happy to have her back, even if it wasn't for playing or training.

“Kyra didn't tell you that I've been cleared to start physio with our physiotherapists here at Arsenal?” Y/n asked, turning to look at Kyra, who was sitting on the bench, putting her boots on.

“I did tell them!” Kyra said, defensiveness in her tone “But they didn't believe me.”

“Easy there, little pest,” Steph said behind Kyra, patting her on the back. “This is what happens when you think it's funny to make up stories, and now we don't believe you when you tell the truth.” Steph walked past a stunned Kyra, coming to greet Y/n. “But it doesn't matter anymore because Y/n is actually here!”

“Bloody hell! Is this still about the loose screws?! Have some mercy and let it go!” Kyra said, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

The team laughed at Kyra and for a few seconds Y/n felt what she used to feel before her injury, a sense of belonging to the people around her and to her club… After all the girls chatted with Y/n, they left the changing room and headed onto the pitch, leaving only Y/n, Kyra and Alessia still chatting, just like old times.

“And then Kyra tackled Renéé to the ground, can you believe it?!” Alessia said, having just finished telling her the story of how Kyra was responsible for getting Renée–aka their head coach–in the infirmary a few days ago.

“She told me to treat her like any other player,” Kyra mumbled. “I felt bad though, but she said she wasn’t angry.”

“I would give anything to see Renée get tackled,” Y/n laughed.

“I think Steph actually got it on video,” Kyra said.

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Really?!”

Kyra smiled. “Nah, I’m joking.”

“I hate you,” Y/n muttered.

Alessia interrupted the two girls by putting one arm around Y/n, but not quite leaning over her so that Y/n wouldn't lose her balance. “Did you know I’m gonna be your physio-buddy today?”

“I fell hard on my shoulder yesterday, Mary wants to have a look at it.” She added.

Mary was Arsenal's upper body physiotherapist. Y/n wouldn’t be doing any sessions with her, instead, Clare would be the one to keep up with Y/n's injury. But both physiotherapists did the physical therapy in the same room, so Alessia and Y/n would spend the whole morning together.

Alessia led Y/n through the door of the changing room, heading to the opposite direction of the pitch, where the physio room was. They quickly noticed someone walking behind them.

Alessia smiled softly, “Aren’t you doing drills with the team today, Ky? Or do you also have an appointment with Mary too?”

Kyra blushed slightly as she shook her head. “No, I don't have an appointment. It’s just that–” Kyra turned to Y/n. “–don’t you want some help? I always help you walk around and… I can stay with you and Alessia during physio today too, I’m sure Renée won’t mind.’

“Thanks, Ky, but it’s ok.” Y/n looked down at her crutches then at Alessia and smiled softly at Kyra. “Lessie here will help me, you don’t need to worry about me now, just focus on your training.”

Kyra listened to Y/n but didn’t move. Kyra had spent most of her free time with Y/n. The only time they had been apart since her injury was when Kyra was at training, so it felt strange not to be by Y/n’s side when she could.

She knew Y/n would kill her if she ever knew how much Kyra was worried about her and her injury all the time. Y/n absolutely didn’t like people fussing over her, so Kyra was having a particularly hard time today.

She needed to give Y/n some space away from her, maybe it would do her some good, and make her feel more independent too.

“I'll keep an eye on her, Kyra, ” Alessia said, placing a comforting hand on Y/n's back. “Don't worry, go on, if anything happens I'll come get you, yeah?”

Y/n smiled and Kyra a thumbs up, reassuring her that she could leave

Kyra just nodded her head, a small smile on her face as she turned around and walked away.

Y/n would be fine. Why wouldn't she be fine? She was only doing physio, for God’s sake. Kyra thought, a mix of emotions on her mind as she left the two girls alone.

“She seems very concerned about you,” Alessia said. “Did you fall or something? When Leah was injured she fell down the stairs of her house, remember?”

“Yeah I do remember that, I was the one that had to come to her house to help her” Y/n said. “I fell too, twice actually, once in the bathroom and once in the pantry a few days ago,” Y/n pointed to her crutches. “I still haven't got used to using them.”

“Was Kyra the one who helped you?”

“Yes, she was very nervous, but she didn’t wanna show it,” Y/n continued. “So she just kept saying I shouldn't try to kill myself trying to walk on my own because people would think I died because of her.”

“I think she was trying to hide how much she cared for you with her jokes,” Alessia said. “Did you know Clare and Mary had to ban her from getting into the physio room because she kept interrupting the other girls ’sessions to ask about your injury, and if there were any kind of new treatments around.

Y/n stopped and laughed at Alessia. “She did that? That’s so Kyra honestly.”

“Yes, but I think her ban was lifted a few days ago,” Alessia said jokingly as she opened the door to the physio room and helped Y/n to one of the therapy tables.

Thankfully the room was empty, so Alessia and Y/n were able to talk about whatever they wanted freely.

“It’s a little funny watching you and Kyra,” Alessia said, putting up a chair next to Y/n’s table. “I think we’re so used to seeing her acting as a menace and treating her like a little sister that we get a bit shocked when she acts more responsibly.”

“It’s adorable, really,” Alessia added.

Y/n smiled, thinking of Kyra’s soft face. “Yeah, she is.”

Y/n almost blurted out that she had never seen Y/n as a little sister, especially now. Y/n and Kyra weren’t exactly hiding that they were…kissing? snogging around? But Y/n still didn’t want to talk about it too much. It still felt too intimate. It was something that belonged to them.

“Kyra’s been treating me really well,” Y/n continued. “I mean she always jokes and teases me a lot, but she’s also very patient when I’m mad about my injury, and she always drives me around, so that’s a plus.”

Y/n wanted people to see Kyra the way she saw her. Not just someone who plays around, but also someone who’s very caring and generally loving.

“Well, I'm glad to know you have someone like Ky on your side right now.” Alessia smiled. “It makes me worry less about you and her, I feel like you act as her voice of reason sometimes. ”

“Please, I don’t need more people to worry about me, I promise.” Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “This whole recovery is going slower than I thought it would be but I’m just learning to be patient.”

“You’ll get there,” Alessia said reassuringly.

“Now please let’s talk about something other than my stupid injury, please!” Y/n said dramatically, making Alessia laugh.

“Ok, so let me tell you what happened in the tunnel in our last game–” Alessia started the story, and both girls were busy while waiting for physio to begin.

“I'm never coming back here again,” Y/n mumbled as she sat on the bench, wind in her face, watching her teammates do running drills on the pitch. Physio had taken up two hours of her and Alessia’s morning and it was hard; Y/n even considered just cutting off her leg and leaving it there.

“Yes, you're,” Leah murmured from her side, drinking her water and watching her surroundings “Physio honestly sucks but you’ve just gotta do it, mate” The captain shrugged. “It’s good that you’re feeling pain, it means your nerves aren’t screwed up.”

“Yeah, but it fucking hurts!” Y/n complained, crossing her arm “

“Breaking a bone hurts, what made you think growing them back wouldn't,” Leah said condescendingly.

“Have people ever told you how much you suck at supporting others in need?”

“Have people ever told you how annoying you are when you whine?” Leah bit back.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Hey, share your water with me, I left my bottle in Kyra's car.” Y/n made grabby hands, but Leah shook her head rather dramatically.

“Ew, no.” Leah said, “I hate sharing water, grab one from the cooler.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow at Leah, signalling at her cast. “Could you please get me some water, then?”

Leah complained all the way to the cooler and back, but finally handed Y/n her water bottle. “Are you like this with Cooney-Cross at home too?”

“Like this what?” Y/n asked, taking a sip of her cold water. Damn, she was thirsty.

“Demanding,” Leah said teasingly, taking the spot next to Y/n again.

“I wasn’t at first. I didn’t like asking for help,” Y/n answered, her eyes searching the pitch for Kyra in the pitch. “But she cracked me.”

“I think you cracked her too,” Leah said nonchalantly, watching Kyra as well.

“What?” Y/n asked, turning her head to Leah.

“She’s different.” Leah continued. “She’s not acting so much like a pest lately, she’s been more responsible, less reckless on the pitch too.”

Y/n didn’t answer.

“I wonder if it’s because of you,” Leah added.

Wow, Leah, always the straightforward one.

“She’s a young player, we’ve all been like that once,” Y/n said, trying to steer the conversation, sensing something suggestive in Leah’s voice, but not wanting to give in to Leah, not.

“I wasn’t,” Leah said proudly.

Y/n laughed sarcastically. “Oh yeah, because you were always so calm and collected.”

“I beg your pardon? I have the least yellow card ib from this team,” Leah bit back, rolling her eyes “Anyway, I’m just casually, very casually, letting you know that I’m sensing something different in Kyra.”

Y/n didn't answer again.

“So I’m just leaving the door for this conversation open,” Leah continued, trying to sound chill, but Y/n had known her for a few years now. The captain had thought this whole conversation through. “If you ever want to talk about it, I mean, I’m here.”

Leah honestly could give two shits about other people’s lives, so Y/n was rather amused by Leah’s way of showing that she was interested in her life and in whatever she had to do with Kyra’s change in behaviour.

“Is this your way of trying to be casual? Because you failed, bro.”

Leah furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m just trying to be a good friend. Alessia told me I should be more welcoming, and more…emotionally available, so this is me trying. If you prefer my old version I can bring her back”

“Please bring back my old Leah,” Y/n said, playfully putting her palms together as if in a prayer.

“What happened between you and Cooney?” Leash asked bluntly.

This was the Leah she knew.

“Nothing happened between me and Kyra,” Y/n said. “We just got closer, we’ve been sharing a house for the last one to two months, in case you don’t remember. ”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was the best Y/n could tell Leah right now.

Y/n and Kyra weren’t even dating, but Y/n couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if they disclosed whatever they had going on to the team. It wouldn't be anything new, it was very normal to date with your teammates.

Arsenal itself had a lot of couples that were brought together through the club, it wasn’t something unusual. But of course, when new couples formed the dynamics of the team changed a bit.

If they started dating, would people stop seeing Kyra as their little sister? Would the team stop seeing Y/n as this tough player who only had eyes for football and maybe a nightstand here or there?

When she thought about it Y/n realised that she really didn’t care about what her teammate thought about it. When Viv and Beth started dating, everyone just moved on with their lives, it was the same with Katie and Caitlin.

Y/n and Kyra just weren’t the type to make a big deal about it, they would probably just notice the shift between them and accept.

“I’ll pretend to believe you if you tell Alessia I tried doing the whole talk your feelings out with you,” Leah mumbled next to her, pulling Y/n out of her thoughts.

“So Alessia was the one who sent you, then? That little minx was with me the whole morning, she could've asked me.”

Leah shrugged, getting up from the bench and starting to warm up. “She didn't want to intrude.”

“So you intruded on her behalf?” Y/n asked, finding the whole situation funny.

“Yeah, I mean, you get closed off sometimes and it’s hard to reach out to you,” Leah said, more firmly now.

“It takes one to know one,” Y/n said, smiling at Leah.

Both women had been friends for a very long time. But the friendship between Leah and Y/n was different, they didn’t text every day, and they didn't plan to meet every week.

It was the kind of friend shared by two reserved people who enjoyed their privacy but still knew they could always count on each other

Y/n and Leah had the same faults, they were proud, stubborn and overly independent. So they knew each other, they knew how the other reacted to the world. And of course, they knew how hard it was for them to open up.

“Well, you know where I live if you ever feel like talking about why your eyes haven’t left Cooney for a second,” Leah patted Y/n’s back before running back to the pitch.

Maybe people would realise that she and Kyra were together sooner than she thought. Especially since Y/n was bluntly staring at Kyra while she played.

So what if she actually cheered a little when Kyra scored a goal?

| PART 5 |

Notes: Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

#woso #woso fanfic #woso appreciation #woso x reader #arsenal women #kyra cooney cross #arsenal fanfic #women soccer #and they were roommates #matildas

364 notes · View notes

yeostars · 8 months ago

Note

hii :)) I saw your post about ateez with an older s/o, and I was wondering if you were willing to do one about ateez with a younger s/o (not too much just like 1-2 years)

you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable or if you just don’t want to though, I was just curious about this kind of dynamic

𓆩♡𓆪 dynamics study: ateez members dating someone younger than them / having a younger s/o <3

𓆩♡𓆪 hongjoong, yunho

• would be protective over you 100%. They are originally the kind of people who get jealous naturally, even if they can't help it. Might be slightly more possessive and protective over you than usual and you freaking love it. Would give you head pats every single time they find you endearing or adorable. Would warn you to be extra careful if you're driving late at night/ walking alone at night, going to the lengths of texting you and checking in with you every ten minutes to make sure you're safe and coming home soon. Would give you loooots of forehead kisses <3 would sincerely teach you about new things & hobbies if you ever mention about getting interested in them.

• always your no.1 supporter, no matter what. Whether you've accomplished a small achievement or a big one, they would never fail to show you how proud they are of you, would show off about your smallest achievements to their friends and family members, always leaving you slightly embarrassed but they assure you that you deserve to be appreciated about every single thing you do ><

• they're always the one taking initiatives- whether it's planning a date or helping you take the random-est of decisions, they're somehow always taking the lead. Them being older than you naturally leads them to be the ones taking the lead. Most importantly, they always make sure your needs and preferences are ahead of theirs. Basically they don't mind sacrificing something they like if it means putting ahead something you would love- all of that just to see that cute smile on your face. Would let you win in small and playful arguments, just to see that happy sparkle in your eyes upon winning.

𓆩♡𓆪 seonghwa, san

• they always, ALWAYS make sure you're comfortable. in literally any situation - could be when you're having a movie night at home, they arrange the pillows & blankets just right so that you're always cozy. they even go to the extent of you leaning against their shoulder for HOURS, using their arm as your pillow, even if it means that their shoulder is going to be SORE the next day- they don't care as long as you're sleeping peacefully.

• would LOVE stroking your smooth, soft hair. it's literally their favourite thing to do, and just like yunho and joong, they'd also give you lots of head pats because they're always endeared by whatever you do. They're always gentle with you, would treat you like you're a delicate doll for real. Especially because of you being younger than them, although there's barely 1-2 years age difference between the both of you, taking utmost care of you would be their responsibility. No matter the situation, they'd lend you their jacket even if you're a little cold, sometimes even draping it over your shoulder before you can even ask.

• they're ALSO quite protective over you. Would show their protectiveness in the form of quietly wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to them when you're talking with a stranger who's making you uncomfortable, as if showing them who you belong to, and proving to you that they're always there for you. Would also naturally shield you in crowds, keeping you close to them to make sure no one bumps into you. Would call you nicknames like "baby" "my love" "sweetheart" which you swoon over everytime.

𓆩♡𓆪 wooyoung, mingi

• not gonna lie, your dynamics would be quite similar to that of an older brother and a younger sister. Even though your age difference is barely 1-2 years, the both of you would be teasing the hell outta each other, annoy each other every chance you get, yet care the most for each other and show your love in the tiniest, most random ways. Their nature is like that- they're quite unserious and so are you. Dating mingi and wooyoung with them being older than you would be like having a best friend, older brother & boyfriend all in one.

• similarly, like an older brother would be naturally protective of their younger sister, they'd be protective of you. Considering how dramatic these two can get sometimes, they'd throw tantrums when you ask them to pick you up late at night but would always be there to pick you up the fastest. They'd keep an eye around you in front of others, when you're out in public or around new people, you're always in their eyesight, making sure no one's making you uncomfortable.

• Would slightly mess up your hair after giving you head pats, and you'd scold them for it, but they just do it to annoy you and to be endeared by that pout on your face. Your kisses would always last longer than necessary because they just don't want to let go of you so soon. They can get quite clingy sometimes, requesting you to stay the night and cuddle at their place to spend more time with you, making you question who's the younger one between the both of you, lol. They'd also be the type to tuck you in safely in bed after coming home exhausted from a date, and stare at your peaceful resting face for hours, carefully fixing the hair on your eyes so that it doesn't bother you. These two would show their love in hidden ways like these, admiring you even more when you don't notice.

𓆩♡𓆪 yeosang, jongho

• would be extremely gentle and caring with you. Sometimes maybe even more than necessary- they'd be the type to hold your hand at literally any chance they get. Although these two don't like showing their physical affection often- when they're in a relationship with a younger s/o, they would love to interlock their fingers with yours, gently swaying it from side to side. Would help you out with the smallest of tasks- such as holding your shopping bag/ purse which is heavier than usual for you without question. Would try to help you out in all ways possible, as their way of showing their love towards you.

• they would be especially protective over your health and well-being. If you're a student, they'd make sure taking breaks in between studying, would always text you to remind you to have your regular meals and make sure you're eating well. During exam times they'd come over and make sure you're not staying up too late revising, would get you to study during daytime itself so you get enough sleep at night & make sure you don't procrastinate.

• They would also stand up for you & firmly defend you- be it someone talking harshly to you, or you disagreeing with someone, they'd calmly step in but would stay there by your side until everything gets resolved. They're quite mature like that & you admire that side of theirs a lot. When you're walking alone late at night, they'd either accompany you or stay with you at all times on the phone, talking about random stuff until you've reached home safely. Would surprise you with little gifts (your favourite chocolate, snacks, some book you wished to have) even if it's not a special occasion because they know that you love surprises & would spoil you with them from time to time.

439 notes · View notes

etherealily · 11 months ago

Text

🄱🄻🄴🅂🅂🄴🄳 // 🇳🇦🇹🇪 🇯🇦🇨🇴🇧🇸.

My other Nate fics. If you have the time.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. 🍃.

Part 1 : Whiplash Part 2 : 9 Lives Part 4 : Shards Part 5 : Eighteen Bonus Chapter: Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : "His hand, so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It's not like Nate even knew you.

You just so happened to be the secret to his success, and maybe, perhaps his new obsession.

No biggie.

I mean, whole of the first week of spring break, he didn't text you, you didn't text him, and it was all great and normal.

Pissed him off to no end, because how the hell did you recover so quickly from having a fucking gun in your throat? But, hey, whatever. Maybe you were just that goddamn weird.

The second - and last - week of spring break was when shit got intense.

Because he thought about you.

He realized he hadn't even fucking seen you around town the entirety of it, and that might have freaked him out, just a little.

He worried, you see? Yes, only about his games, and his college apps, but now, all of them had been tied to you, with a pretty little bow around them.

So obviously, now he worried about you.

So, obviously, he needed to find out just where the hell your lucky ass had gone.

He narrowed it down to two options. Both perfectly reasonable, of course.

One, you just had tons of work and stayed indoors.

Two, you had been kidnapped and murdered by the opposing teams because they'd found out about your miracle-working.

See? Perfectly reasonable.

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It was a happy surprise to learn that you were basically closer to his house than you'd ever been before, after you'd taken up a job at the local supermarket.

Well, happy for him.

For you, it was more of a you-were-seriously-contemplating-suicide surprise.

"You listen to Elvis Presley?", he asked, dropping his purchase down on the counter. Your eyes never moved to it, and stayed on his.

That was one thing he noticed about you.

You were always observing, as if he were a rabid animal that would strike at any moment. As if he would reveal his sinister intentions to you within enough time for you to react.

"What?"

He nodded at the speakers on the wall around the establishment. "Those connected to your Spotify?"

You didn't want to answer unless you knew whether he was about to compliment or mock you.

"Sir, I think you should leave."

God fucking damn it. Why had he never thought about the fact that you wouldn't - (and couldn't)- call him a motherfucker at your workplace? His joy knew no bounds.

"That's so hot. Say it again."

You'd 100% expected that. It was clear on your face.

"There's other people behind you with more items to check out."

He swiveled his head around for a moment.

Old lady. Sometimes he wished he wasn't raised right.

He sighed, nodding. "I'm next up, though.", he warned sternly, pointing at you as he gestured for her to pass him by.

The old lady patted him on the shoulder and smiled, moving ahead with her purchase of an unholy amount of bread and cheese.

And what's worse?

She had coupons.

Way too many for Nate to stand smiling like a good boy behind her as she dug into her purse and fished out probably decades worth of them.

"Yes, dear, so just run all these."

"Uh, ma'am, I wish I could, but most of these are expired."

Thank god.

"Oh, well, you said most. Let's just sort through them and find the ones that aren't expired."

Would it be homicide to kill her? She didn't really have too long to live, anyway. He couldn't say he hadn't thought about it.

"Uh, okay, yeah, sure."

"This'll just take a minute, sweetie.", she whispered to Nate, pinching his cheek as if that would make time go by faster.

"How about I pay for you, ma'am? If that's alright?"

If he'd been allowed access to your mind, you'd never live it down, because you almost thanked him right then and there.

"Oh, there's no need for that, dear, I can-"

"No, please, I insist. It would be my pleasure."

"What a sweet boy."

Both her and Nate decided to ignore the derisive snort that came out of you as you swiped his card.

"Here you go, ma'am.", you smiled, placing the copious amounts of cheese into the bag, then stuffing the bread in, too. "Anything else?"

"Oh, no, that's it for me. God bless you, dear. Both of you."

Watching her walk out, he began to genuinely wonder if this absurd purchase was all part of some scheme some criminal had put up to steal without your knowledge.

"You hear that? We're blessed, you and me."

"Do you actually have anything to buy?"

"Of course I do. I'm not a creepy stalker.", he hissed, slamming his palm down in front of you. Slowly, he lifted it to reveal a stack of eleven condoms.

Oh, yeah, you were blessed with this fuckass' presence.

You sucked your teeth as your gaze traipsed from the condoms up to his eyes. One of them winked.

"Is that all?"

"Oh, come on, you're not even curious why I have them?"

"Probably for the dozens of bitches you're getting.", you scoffed, ringing it up. "$15.99."

"For eleven individual condoms?!"

You shrugged. "Inflation."

"Oh, they better inflate for the amount of money I'm spending."

He rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself as he pulled out the money from his wallet, instead of his card. "Fucking old lady with her bread and cheese."

"You maxed your card?"

"Yeah. Why do people buy so much shit they're barely ever going to use?"

"Like you with your condoms?"

Ah. Nate could've absolutely lost his shit laughing right there- you did care.

"I'm going to use it all. Trust me."

How many times was he going to use the phrase 'trust me' on you until he realized the meaning had eroded away into nothingness between you two? Probably a dozen more.

"Sure. Thanks for shopping with us. Have a great day."

He pouted, stuffing the packets into his pocket as he raised a brow. "You don't sound like you mean it."

"Nate-"

"And why are you even working here, anyway? Oh, shit, is it 'cause I cost you your internship with your perv boss?"

If he felt bad, the grin on his face wasn't really screaming guilt.

"No, fuckass, this is my friend's store, he just wanted someone to help him out for a couple hours."

"Whoa, wait, what happened to Sir? I liked that better."

That was a lie. He fucking loved it.

"Please, Nate. Stop."

"One condition."

There it was. It no longer seemed like he saw you as anything more than a boredom buster. Sudoku, or a crossword, basically. That was you to him.

"Answer one question, truthfully, and I'll leave this... otherwise empty store right after."

"I'm listening."

God, that's all he fucking wanted to hear, and it was oddly exciting. He could literally say anything, and you wouldn't block him out.

"What would you do if I told you that I have a body in my car right now?"

"What?"

"A body. A dead body. It's in my trunk. Right now. What would you say? What's your next move?"

It's like he expected you not to notice the fact that he was tracing shapes on your arm as he spoke.

"Cops."

At this point, even if he wasn't bluffing, you'd still have reacted so nonchalantly. Because it was all in all tiring to continue to play whatever twisted game he was playing.

"They're not an option. It's either silence or help me. Would you help me hide it?"

"Nate, did you kill someone?"

"No."

"Then why even ask?!"

"It's a hypothetical."

"No, probably not."

He tsked, looking away for a moment. "Wrong answer."

"Well, it's my answer."

He brought his fingers up to your face, and your slight flinch meant absolutely nothing to him. Imaginary hearts now plagued your skin. "Change it."

"My answer? No."

"Please."

"Nate, did you kill someone?", you asked once more, praying for an actual answer this time, be it in the negative or the positive.

He smirked.

"Thanks for the condoms.", he whispered, grinning as he gave your cheek a light pat - that was dangerously bordering on a slap.

Would your trunk be big enough to fit his body? You thought about it the rest of the day.

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

His fingers rapped on his dashboard as he watched his phone, set down on speaker on the dashboard, too. Pick up, pick up, pick up.

"Hello?"

Yes. He'd never been this happy to hear someone's voice, and it kinda freaked him out. Okay, whatever. Not important.

"Y/N."

"Who is this?"

"The guy you broke all the rules with before spring break? Made out with on the bleachers?"

"You need to be more specific."

"You better be kidding."

"Of course I am." He had never felt more relieved to hear your stupid ass laugh. "What do you want? I'm not helping you hide a body."

He debated just asking you where you'd been all this time, why you hadn't shown up to a single party or hangout, but he decided he'd just outright ask the real question he needed answered.

"Which one's your window?"

A pause. "What?"

"The one with red or yellow curtains?"

"Nate."

"Red or yellow, babe?"

"Red." Good. You'd gotten so used to him that you didn't waste time pointing out the obvious by asking 'are you outside my house?!'.

"You sure it's not yellow?"

"That's my parents' room."

"Yellow looks more tempting.", he teased, as he shut the car door.

"I'm not messing around."

"Neither am I. Yellow it is."

"Nate!"

This was far too precious to him. You were actually worried. How cute.

The fact that he had to climb up wasn't really making him jump in joy, but he figured you'd enjoy that little touch of vintage chivalry.

Like fucking Rapunzel.

He tapped on your window once.

No answer. Don't fucking play around right now.

He knocked once more.

He was met with your extremely delightful glare as you slid your window up, watching him closely.

"Hey."

"Dude, you-"

"Shh, shh, shh. Let me in.", he mumbled, crouching to cram himself through, his hand still resting on the top of the pane.

"You're insane."

Immediately grabbing your face after he steadied himself, he hissed through gritted teeth, "Where the hell have you been?"

"What?"

"I didn't see you at all before today!"

"Yeah, we got a lot of work to do over spring break."

"This is why you don't take psychology, because you get stupid amounts of homework even during the holidays.", he muttered, as if he'd warned you about this eons ago.

"What do you want?"

"Party. You. Me. Now. Get dressed."

He almost punched you when you started laughing.

"You actually do have a sense of humour, Nate, good for you."

"I'm not kidding. Come on."

"No way in hell."

"You know what? No need to get dressed. You look great. Just come on. Live a little."

"You've already taken me to 'live a little' before, and I ended up shitfaced with a gun in my throat at school at 12:30 am."

Good. So you hadn't gotten over that. He didn't care if he was being sadistic - he was glad.

He sighed, flopping down onto your bed and ignoring the second glare to come from you that night. "This is so typically a teenage girl's bedroom."

He had no clue what he was saying, at this point. But he knew he was itching for a reaction, a reason for you to hit him again, so he could grab you and shut you up. He craved the conflict.

"Surprising, considering that's what I am."

"I mean, the band posters? Really?", he huffed, pointing around at your room as if he was giving you a tour of it.

"Have you even listened to Queen? Presley? Any of the oldies?"

The match was found. Time to light it.

"So the shitty music in the store was connected to your playlist.", he chuckled, shaking his head. "No wonder that old lady was so nice to you. She thought you were one of her Bingo buddies."

It was just a question of how long you could stand him sitting on your bed, disrespecting your music taste.

"If you're only here to invite me to a party, I'm sorry, I'm not coming."

"How would your family like me hanging out here?", he mused, tilting his head. You know, the one you'd probably love to bash into the pavement given a chance? That head.

You were so fucking hot when you were pissed, it was unbelievable to him. He could sense it, the anger.

The smell of your rage made him want to riot.

"You can't keep blackmailing me into doing what you want."

"Alright, fine."

Your uncomfortable frown made him snicker. "What's that look?"

"This is usually the part where you self-harm and tell me I'm being a bitch for not bending to your will."

"Tonight's different."

"Why?"

Because I'm going to unwrap every fucking secret of yours.

He shrugged, the corners of his lips curling downwards. "I don't want to."

"So, you'll leave?"

"I didn't say that.", he trailed off, watching you sit down on the chair across from your bed. "Let's just chill."

"Nate, when have you and I ever chilled?"

He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes at you, before giving you a sly smirk. His fingers emerged from his pocket as he pulled out a packet of pre-rolleds. "Right now."

"You're kidding."

"C'mon. Don't be a pussy."

"They'll smell it."

He lolled his head over to the door. "No, they won't. You're two floors up." He shifted to one side, patting the space next to him. "Come on, Y/N, don't end your badass streak so quickly."

His eyes followed you as you sat down gingerly, rubbing your forehead like he was causing you a genuine migraine. That's funny, she hasn't even seen me high, yet, (and she won't).

"Why do I let you do this?"

"Million dollar question if I ever heard one.", he scoffed, fumbling around his person for a lighter. He found it, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it, causing his next catastrophic words to come out a mumble. "But I'm glad you do."

He continued to watch your eyes change from frustration to mild fascination, to hesitation all in one second, as he puffed out through his teeth. "Fuck.", he groaned, handing it to you.

"I don't know about this."

"You think they'd like me?", he mused, looking at the door, and then back at you. "I'm known to make a good impression with parents."

"The no-blackmail thing didn't last long.", you huffed, taking it from him. Nate almost made out with you right then and there, the way your lips wrapped around it as if they were made only for him.

"Didn't want to break tradition.", he snorted as you coughed and sputtered, handing it back to him quickly.

"Gross."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

The last thing he'd expected from that evening was actually staying. He'd thought he'd get you stoned, you'd pass out, and he'd leave.

But here you were.

Next to him.

Freaking him the hell out.

He looked down at his watch. 2 AM. Fuck.

"I gotta go."

"You've been saying that for the past three hours."

Shut up. "Eh, well, it's not like my parents are worried."

"Why not?"

"They know I can handle myself."

"Right, because I'm such a threat."

"God, no. They'd love you." He shook his head subtly, grinning as you nudged his face playfully with your foot from across the bed. "You should come over, sometime."

"I'm not coming over, Nate."

The weed made sure you didn't push him away when he gently grabbed your leg. "Why not?"

"Because we're not friends. There's no reason for me to meet your parents."

"I just think it's right that you get to judge my room, too.", he muttered, lips on your ankle like it was his life support. "You know, justice or whatever."

"It's probably all monocoloured, plain, boring crap."

"Only one way to find out.", he teased.

He despised the silence that followed. High-you wasn't exactly chatty, it seemed.

"Tell me something about you."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Anything."

"This is my first time smoking weed."

"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart."

"You didn't ask for a secret."

"Now I am. Tell me a secret."

"I hate football."

You were more resilient than he thought, seeing as you'd smoked three cigarettes already, and the most you'd given him was your sports preferences.

But he'd take what he got.

"Because of me?"

"No, just generally."

"But you came to games.", he countered.

"Because of Maddy."

"You guys are close?"

You nodded, stirring slightly as you looked out your window. "Mhm."

"So she told you." Shit.

You tilted your head, sitting up as he gripped your calf, moving closer and placing kisses on your knee, too. "About?"

Well, if you didn't already know, no need to tell you.

"To come to the games."

"Oh. Yeah."

Nice save, Jacobs.

"I guess now I owe you a secret, huh?"

"I guess you do."

"You're not gonna like it.", he murmured, lazily tracing even more shapes on your knee, while his other hand had trailed up to your arm. "But I love your lips."

He smiled when the corners of your eyes crinkled up and you burst into a fit of giggles. "What?"

"It's true. They're perfect."

"God, I love weed."

You would, seeing as you smoked more of it than he did. Enough to kind of make him feel slightly guilty.

"It's not just the weed saying this.", he continued, shaking his head. "I'd fight wars for those lips. For you."

He shouldn't have liked the fading of your laugh so much, the slight trepidation brewing on your face, either, but for some reason, he did. "Nate, I'm not... I don't wanna-"

"Be fought for? Why not?"

He took the silence as a cue to brush his finger against your cupid's bow. "You don't think you deserve it?"

He watched your lips move under his finger as you shook your head, side to side. "Well, I do. And, guess what?"

"What?"

"I got another question for you."

Your frown was your response.

"Why didn't you push me away when I kissed you that night on the bleachers?" He knew the answer. Of course he did.

"I was drunk."

"Yeah, see, you weren't that drunk.", he taunted. But no, you were. He'd given you basically one and a half bottles. Just like tonight, taking barely ten puffs while you took thrice as much. You just hadn't noticed.

"I don't know, then."

"I just think that if you didn't push me away, it can't have been the terrible experience you made it out to be, in the car."

"What do you want to hear, Nate?"

"That you want to do it again. 'Cause you do. Don't you?"

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. If you could see your own eyes right now, you'd agree."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

He waited for a reaction, a scoff, an eye roll, anything, but you just looked back at him, and then down at the hand he was holding. Oh, it was the weed.

So he took matters into his own hands. No. He took you into his own hands, tracing the gap between your lips with his tongue before he pushed it in.

Your lips were war-worthy, just like before. But this time, something was different. This time, you kissed back.

There we go.

His hands ran over your back as though he were splaying a huge deck of cards across a table, and he came to the grave realization that maybe, just maybe, he was no longer doing this just for a reaction.

"Come here.", he murmured, making up for his lack of oxygen by trying to steal yours as he pulled you onto him. How Shane Crestin hadn't killed himself over the fact that he'd fumbled this bag, he'd never know. Loser.

His hands slipped under your shirt. Wrong move, seeing as you pulled away. "No."

Wasn't weed supposed to last longer?

"What?"

"I'm not... no."

"You seemed into it, like a moment ago. Face it : you want this. No amount of bullshit self-respect or whatever you wanna call it, is going to change that.", he responded, coolly, as he took a drag from the blunt, his lips immediately feeling the lack of yours.

"You're just trying to get back at Maddy."

God, he wished that were true. Would make much more sense.

He sighed, his forehead on yours. "I'm not, but you're not going to believe me.", he mumbled, watching you get off him and move back to the other side of the bed.

Oceans away. Too fucking far.

"I'm sorry." There was something he hadn't said in a while. "For, like, everything."

"Why am I so fucking important to you? If I just showed up to every game for you, would you leave me the fuck alone? No, you wouldn't, because you sought me out during spring break! Am I just an easy target?"

No. "I don't... I don't fucking know, okay? You just are."

"Is it 'cause you hate me?", you questioned, so quietly that he had to debate whether to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness or actually kill himself in guilt for eliciting it.

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

"For what?" He had no fucking clue what this could be about. Every single thing he'd done so far indicated the opposite. But he didn't want to let himself go there.

"Being your good luck charm."

Oh. He had to think about that one. "No. It would be weird if it was someone else."

"I just mean... it must be frustrating, when you need someone, and they might not always be there."

"But you will, right? Be there?"

"You scare me, Nate."

He scoffed, slightly, rolling his eyes. "You're unbelievable. Why? Gimme one reason - a real one - why you're scared of me."

"You're violent."

Okay, he was hoping you'd give an invalid one.

"I like beating people up.", he shrugged. "But never for no reason."

"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart. And anyway, it's not only the beating up that you like."

"Hm?"

"You like getting beat up, too."

Remind him never to give you weed again.

"Why would I-"

"On some level, you feel like you deserve it.", you replied, shrugging as you took a long puff of the miracle weed that apparently made you unreasonably perceptive.

Okay, confirmed, not even the word weed would be mentioned around you anymore.

"You think I deserve it?"

"Mostly, yeah. But not... all the time."

"How do you know so much?", he asked, watching your fingers get lost in your hair. He couldn't afford eye contact.

"Psychology."

"See? You shouldn't have taken it. It's creepy."

You sighed, smiling as you looked up at the ceiling. "Sorry."

He did not expect you to back down, that was for sure.

"It's fine. Never giving you weed again, though."

═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════

It actually took until the very last day of spring break for him to catch up with you again. Not like he was pissed that you pushed him away, or anything. Or that he was confused about the entire interaction in the bedroom of someone who, until three weeks ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead talking to. He was just busy. Sure. Let's go with that.

"Hey."

"Not now, Nate."

"What is your problem?" Wait, no. That kinda talk was why you were pissed at him. "Look, we should start over."

God, he sounded like a cunt. This was definitely something that pathetic Shane Crestin would say. Ew.

"Okay. Can you start by going over there?", you asked, restocking the shelves with whatever bullshit condiment you had to.

"I'm an ass. I'm a jerk, I'm- I'm a dick."

You were silent for a moment, before you added: "A small one, too."

He sighed, beaming with relief. "A small one, too.", he agreed, nodding. "I'm just here to ask you over to dinner. My house. I'll even cook."

Dude, if you didn't agree, he'd actually fucking kill you.

"No way you cook."

"Only one way to find out."

He saw the falling apart. The gradual breaking down. The glacier was melting. "I'll listen to Queen or whatever, with you."

The quiet was taunting him, but you came to his rescue. "No steak."

"No steak."

Yes. Fucking yes.

428 notes · View notes

typewritingyip · 1 month ago

Text

The Arcturus Missions

Part Thirty Five - Reactionary Actions

Part Thirty Four

———

There are considered four basic types of human relationships; familial relationships, friendships, acquaintanceships, and romantic relationships.

Familial relationships are formed through blood ties or legal connections, invoking both close and extended family.

8% of pilots have this direct connection.

Friendships are defined as voluntary bond based on shared interests, values, experiences, and are often characterized by shared support and respect.

87% of pilots among the MECHA database log between 1 and 4 other pilots in this category.

Acquaintanceships and Professional relations are known to be limited in scope, often involving those you either recently met or those whom you spend limited or set time around.

25% of pilots consider other pilots at large to be professional relationships while another 15% consider them solely acquaintances.

Romantic relationships are formed through romantic attraction, respect, intimacy, and a deep emotional connection.

93% of pilots who enter the program while in a romantic relationship, no matter the category thereof, are known to no longer have those relationships post testing.

Relationships are highly complicated and complex, dependent on the person or persons involved as a whole.

—

Leaving New Kaon felt like going on a cruise, maybe not a long cruise or even one on a smooth ocean but still a cruise. A respite that was more than needed, at least for Hound.

It was hard to picture that they’d only been there for around a week, it truly felt like a lifetime. Then again, missions like that one usually felt that way, especially with those outcomes.

Sunstreaker was on a different transport shuttle with Ironhide and his unit, while Breakdown was remaining in the city with the secondary unit for more monitoring of the system. Hound had tried to stay but now was sitting effectively in isolation on the shuttle. Though Megatron had not said a lot his actions had spoken louder than any orders. His commander was remaining on New Kaon as well; they'd likely return in a few weeks. The Prime’s shuttle was ahead of this one, taking the few wounded that needed more intense care with it.

Sighing slowly, Hound hangs his head, closing his eyes.

The ship hummed quietly through space, it was weird how familiar the sound of a spaceship could become. It was oddly comforting, how the small sense of familiarity brought so much peace. Leaning back in the seat, Hound opens his eyes slowly, “You know, it’s unnerving how quiet you are.” He kept his voice low, staring at Mirage who was now sitting across from him.

With a smile, Mirage shrugged a bit, “Says one of the few mecha who can tell where I am when I use my outlier.” Hound shrugged and nodded, “True.” He smiles, his visor lighting up the shuttle a bit.

Shifting, Mirage stands and moves to sit next to him, “You feeling better Hound?” He almost wanted to sigh or worse, roll his eyes, but instead he nodded, “I’m alright Mirage, I swear it.” Kicking his feet out in front of him, he crosses his ankles comfortably. Mirage watched with a slight frown, “Are you sure?” Nodding, Hound looked over, “Of course, why do you ask?” It wasn’t obvious, not to him.

But to Mirage he could see the difference clear as day.

“Your movements, physical mannerisms, they’ve changed.” He was frowning, “They changed before your crash but they're still different.” Hound’s heart raced, frowning down at his feet a bit before looking at Mirage, who shifted a bit, “You almost look more comfortable, more fluid in your movements, less stiff. Was that precursor? To the crash?” Sighing, Hound shakes his head and shrugs, “I don’t know, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice.” Rubbing his hands over his face, his head thumps against the wall. Closing his eyes again, Hound bit back a curse.

Shifting some, Mirage rests a hand on his shoulder, “Hound, what’s going on?” Keeping his eyes closed, he sighs slowly, “Back, back when I was a new pilot, I was different. We have classes of pilots, anyone can be a striker, that’s what I am now.” Mirage leaned forward some, “Now?” Nodding, Hound finally looked over, “Now, I first tested into Hunter class. Back then there were more classes than there are now, but most pilots are strikers now. It’s what we need.” Frowning, Mirage shifts again in his seat, “But you're all so different, does your class really cover so much?” Nodding, Hound smiled a bit.

Shrugging, he sighed, “Well, Breakdown is a tanker class, but the twins and I are all strikers. Or, well, before the crash I was just a striker. Now, I feel like I used to. More.. awake.” He flexes his fingers with a bit of a smile, visor brightening slightly. Mirage stared, nodding slowly, “Did you feel asleep this whole time?” With a sigh, Hound shook his head, “No, god no. I wouldn’t have been able to do half of what I’ve done had I been asleep. No, I just, I feel like me again.” He sighed, “No, that’s not right either.” Mirage chuckles.

Shaking his head, he tosses a hand out, “Forget it, I don’t have the right words for how I feel.” Hound looks at Mirage, visor still bright with a smile, and Mirage smiles, shaking his head, “Not even in another one of the languages from your home?” It almost brought him to crying laughter.

“Oh god, I can barely speak my native language let alone the two others I have certifications in. If I can’t explain it in English, then I can’t try to in Spanish or Arabic.” Mirage was smiling, a real smile that reached his eyes, and Hound tried not to swear again or shift uncomfortably. Glancing away, Mirage rubs at his neck subconsciously, “So, why do you know those languages over any others? Why not upload a communication chip?” Shaking his head, Hound shrugged, “We don’t have those on earth, you’ve got to sit down and learn it. These translators we use are new and you’ve seen how fallible they are.” Nodding, Mirage chuckles a bit, “Well, yeah. I was wondering why Jazz had a hard time back when he first appeared.” Hound chuckled, shaking his head.

For a moment, Hound thought of Perceptor, and the pilots still on Earth. Looking at the hands of his suit, he sighed slowly, “He tried to give us our best chance, Percy, he designed the translator.” Slowly, Mirage puts an arm around Hound’s shoulders, “He did and you’ll see them again, plus most of us have to meet him. Making it so that we can speak and grow close.” If anyone else were awake in the shuttle, they’d be cringing or gagging or making obscene gestures. Thankfully, most of everyone was asleep and the few that were awake were too focused on their own conversations.

Nodding some, Hound sits back, “If we all make it out of this war it will be a miracle.” Mirage squeezes his shoulder lightly, “We know the feeling, very well but we’ve got each other. All of us, we’re fighting this war together this time.” Smiling, Hound nodded. Never before getting sent across the universe did he think he’d be thankful for giant aliens.

—

To be fair, he tried to stay awake to talk, he really did. Even with Blue on comms it didn’t keep him awake. Disconnected and passed out on his cot, Sunstreaker was dead to the world.

The shuttle around them was lively and it shocked more than a few mecha when Bluestreak was quiet for a while, at least until the visor on Sunstreaker went dark. Blue seemed to deflate after a few minutes, though was content enough where he was at.

Sunstreaker had his arms around Bluestreak’s middle, head resting on his shoulder, and was clearly asleep now. Bluestreak was trapped, but the small smile on his face gave all the clues that anyone needed. Whistling and cat calls were not unheard of, along with a share of obscene gestures. Someone even made the comment of how lucky the Paraxian’s seemed to get with the “hot aft aliens”.

Honestly, Bluestreak wouldn’t disagree. Looking down at Sunstreaker, who’d settled like that to talk and even when he disconnected, kept talking with him. Listening contently, not wanting to overrun the conversation or cut his train of thought off. Maybe he was lucky. His comm line was still open, glad to be able to make sure Sunny was alright even while he slept. Okay, maybe that was a little creepy but he was so small compared to everything else around them. Just being able to see that he was okay was comforting enough.

Bluestreak blinked as someone waved their servos in front of his face, “Primus,” Ironhide smirked, “Not quiet kid, well, don’t you look all cozy.” And his faceplates burned, clearing his vocalizer, “Slightly, what do you want?” And Ironhide’s servo came up to cover his spark, “Yelling at your commanding officer! What would Prowl think?” Blue couldn’t help but roll his eyes, muttering, “What did he think about the commanders running the humans ragged.” Nodding, Ironhide vents deeply, “Yeah, you’re not wrong there.” Rubbing at his neck, Ironhide shakes his head, “Sunstreaker feeling okay?” Nodding, Blue looks down at Sunny with a soft smile, “Yeah, just recharging.”

Ironhide smiled a bit, “Well, that’s good. Otherwise I’d probably hear it from Prowl, again.” Bluestreak chuckled, “Yeah, I’m not surprised by that at all.” With a nod, Ironhide pats Bluestreak’s shoulder before heading back for the cockpit.

They’d have a flying stop in Iacon, a few days to re-supply before they were going back to their planet’s “tropical paradise”, as Sunny had called it. Elita and her unit would be setting up on the other coast, something about the system was attracting the Quints and they needed to figure it out.

Looking back down at Sunny, at the camera in his cockpit, Blue sighed. They needed to know what the Quintessons wanted, not just for the sake of Cybertron but for Earth. It was bad enough they were attacking a species that was well matched, to know that there were only so many suits and pilots on Earth to defend Sunny’s kind was killing him.

It was hard to know the person you, you might love; his spark spun funnily. Would be heartbroken if anything else were to happen to his planet, that he cared that much he’d be willing to die for it. Bluestreak had known the feeling once, back when Paraxus had been beautiful with its tall and shining spires. He almost felt that way for Cybertron, but nothing was quite like home. For Sunny, he could understand why it had shifted to Earth over the place called Florida, when you lost home it was easy to see the planet as home. Just for Blue, it was different.

He almost giggled when Sunstreaker started to snore, sitting back and putting his arm around Sunny’s back, closing his own eyes. The anxiety could wait till morning.

—

Iacon was beautiful, as always, and Hound was happy to be back. What he wasn’t happy about was the checkups that were scheduled in with a handful of the Prime’s medics. For him and Sunstreaker, it was hours before they escaped and the sun was starting to set already.

All Hound wanted to do was take a shower and be out of the suit for at least five minutes. Sunny was dragging his feet, Bluestreak having disappeared hours before and the poor guy was pouting. It was hard to hold his tongue, “How was your mission with Ironhide?” Sunstreaker looked up and started to walk more normally, “I got my visor shattered by Blue, I killed I think three quints, uh, swam in the ocean.” Nodding a bit, Hound smiles some, “Yeah, I heard about the visor, the new one looks good though.” Sunny hummed.

That was one of the things Hound could count on with Sunny, not having to make painful conversation, just quiet understanding. They walked together through the quickly darkening Iacon, plating scrubbed and scratched buffed, likely looking as nice as the suits had the day they came off of assembly.

Neither of them expected to be facing Prowl this late in the evening, let alone be facing down his disapproving glare, “Shit.” Their voices combined in a way that only happens when you spend too much time around each other.

“You would think I’d start to grow accustomed to that greeting.” His doorwings flicked, for what reason Hound didn’t know and he could guarantee Sunny had no clue, “Head inside, once you’re cleaned up Jazz wants to talk.” Hound barely spared Sunstreaker a glance, “I’ve been out of Iacon longer, I’m showering first.” He didn’t even want to think about what he and the cockpit of his suit smelled like. Almost gagging again.

��

Running a towel over his hair, Sunstreaker ducked past him just as the door for the bathroom opened. He barely sidestepped to let him past. Neither of them had expected Bluestreak in the apartment, but he and Prowl had left not long after they got their suits to clean. Though Hound will have to spend some time actually scrubbing at the floor of his suit, the assistance suit was currently soaking in their makeshift sink.

It was a relief, to feel clean again, though his hair was starting to get on the longer side. Certainly longer than it ever had been, at least since he was eighteen.

To be honest, he hadn’t noticed the state of Jazz’s own suit when he came in, too busy or maybe just too tired. Though he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with the look on Jazz’s face, “Look,” Jazz held up a hand and Hound scowled, “Tell me what happened.” Sighing slowly, he kept a scowl on his face, “Fine, I experienced the crash after using my suit for almost forty-eight hours.” Jazz’s face dropped, without another look, Hound went to the kitchen. Jazz did not stop him.

It took him only a minute or two to get together something to eat and a cooling pack for his head. Disconnecting was getting harder with the jerk to his coding, he could remember how painful it had been before but at least this wasn’t as bad. Sighing, he went back into the living room, thankful the door to the bathroom was still shut and would be for a while yet.

Jazz stared, biting his lip, “What was it like?” Shrugging a bit, Hound sat and started to eat, keeping his head down to hold the cooling pack there. They didn’t have enough water reserved for showers and ice, “It was an artificial seizure effectively.” Each time he chewed, his head would pound and his implants would ache, “Did you not go through it before? Back when you first got here?” Slowly, Jazz shook his head, “No, no I didn’t.” He sighed and shifted back, tucking the cooling back into the collar of his shirt instead.

“Jazz, this was my second one. I didn’t know it until it happened again.” And Jazz went pale, staring at his own food before pushing it away, “How?” Shrugging, Hound can only shake his head, “My best guess is being hybrid-class.” He knew Jazz would sigh from relief, couldn’t help it, but it didn’t make his current state suck any less.

Jazz sat back, “What are you going to tell the others?” Closing his eyes, Hound sighed, “That I experienced the crash, end story. They don’t need to know,” “But they might.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Hound sighed, “Not now, not yet. Look, you didn’t crash. I was always going to be the most susceptible. They might not ever crash.” And the door behind them slid open as Prowl and Bluestreak returned. Both men shared a look before turning to the Cybertronian’s.

This would stay between them. Just one more secret to be kept from their allies. Another thing that could leave a crack in the foundation.

Prowl moves and sits on the couch, offering a hand to Jazz, who happily takes it and sits contentedly on Prowl’s shoulder like an odd parrot, his calculating gaze shifted to Hound, “I was told you crashed.” Tilting his head a bit, Hound shakes it just slightly, “I don’t think it’s like how you mean.” Prowl tried not to smile, “Then what’s your crash like?” Sighing, Hound looked down.

His head was pounding but the apartment in Iacon was cool and familiar, “When the crash hits, it’s the overloading of your implants with the main system. It’s the first and last time you’ll experience it because the system will adapt, overuse will ebb and you’ll be a stronger pilot for it.” “If you don’t die.” Jazz points at, pointing an accusatory finger at Hound, sighing he nods, “Yes, if you don’t die. If it doesn’t kill you. If you're able to handle it, it’s horrific, everything about it is horrible but once it’s done it’s at least done.” Another lie to go among the dozens.

Nodding slowly, Prowl sighed, “Alright, go ahead and get some rest Hound, you’ve earned it. You won’t ship back out until the lord protector returns to Iacon.” Bluestreak sighed and said something Hound didn’t understand. Prowl nodded and Hound frowned, “What did he say?” His helmet was still soaking for the time being, Prowl glanced over, “He asked if the prime and lord protector are fight, the answer is yes.” Nodding, Jazz snapped his fingers, “That’s why you called him Lord Protector instead of Megatron. Get all formal when they get mad?” Prowl looked like he wanted to roll his eyes to a painful extent, “Extremely.” Hound sighed deeply, “Great.” Looking down at his bowl, he stacked it on top of Jazz’s unfinished one before making his way to the bedroom.

All he wanted now was some halfway decent sleep, and to not think about the screaming match Megatron and Optimus Prime had had, and the implications of their argument.

—

They were supposed to be set up on opposite sides of the land mass, opposite coasts but the communication signal became strained not even five miles out and non-existent on the other side of the continent. Which made the point of the units splitting up useless.

So, now while Ironhide and Elita were setting up watches, the twins were avoiding each other and Bluestreak was nowhere to be found. Likely hiding from Sideswipe. Sighing, Sunstreaker sat down near the heater again, rubbing his face tiredly.

It was the middle of the night here and not exactly early back in Iacon either. Honestly, all he wanted to do was sleep, but not having others around while he slept had proven to all of them to be more dangerous than it was worth.

He wasn’t sure why he was avoiding Sideswipe, maybe because of Bluestreak who had wandered off for energon, now almost an hour ago. He knew his brother wouldn’t quiet understand, hell, he didn’t understand. It had all felt so normal, so natural.

There was no label there yet, of course, but when their unit was out they were together up till the moment Blue needed to set up and then Sunny was off to tear the Quints apart. It was all still so new and terrifying, he just liked being able to be the listening ear for Blue.

Sighing, his mech sinks a bit in the sand, curled up near a heater, by himself trying to keep his eyes open.

Sideswipe was sat around the heater with his unit, laughing and listening to Chromia tell yet another story about the war. It’s weird, these things wouldn’t have kept his attention back home, learning of their pointless history while the war waged around them but this. When the peace had been found and they all only were now working together because of it, it felt far more interesting. Glancing over, he frowned a bit at Sunny, sitting all by himself.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had changed so recently, that they were now sitting apart instead of together. Part of it he knew was Hound splitting them up, ‘for the greater good’ his ass, it was to keep them all alive. But that was the farthest he could understand it.

There had never been a time where he and Sunny were separated so often or for so long, not once.

He could see the cafeteria, the long tables with the round uncomfortable seats, watching Sonny sketch in a notebook. It was before their parents died, before that attack that took everything from them, how the light came through the windows high up on the wall. The school had been old when his grandparents were alive, let alone now after dozens of battles off the coast. Plastic tray in his hands, a few friends were laughing behind him, thankfully making their way towards his brother rather than away.

“Hey, Sideswipe, we lose you?” He blinks and looks up, frowning a bit before shaking his head, “Uh, no, sorry Skids. Was thinking.” With a hum, Skids looks back to Chromia, “I say we just invite the pair over, not like more bodies will make it any colder.” She nodded and smiled, standing and patting Sideswipe on the back. He smiled some, looking up at her, he’d only been with these people for around a month and knew they’d sooner lay down their lives for him then not; “Hey! Bluestreak, Sunstreaker! Come on over, join the better unit!” There of course was the typical uproar from those busying themselves out of Ironhide’s unit but the laughter from his brother almost made him smile.

Almost.

What wiped it away was Bluestreak, who had now almost killed his brother twice. The sooner Sunny saw that that particular alien wasn’t his friend, the better. When they came over, Sides had hold of Sunny and pulled him to sit between himself and Skids. Bluestreak had stared dumbly before sitting with Chromia.

“So, tell me Blue, how’s Ironhide’s unit treating you? Oh, and how the hell you broke Sunstreaker’s last visor. Sides here won’t shut up about it!” He suddenly remembered that Skids had a big mouth, his foot met Skids leg with a practiced ease he’d gained from doing to Sunstreaker over the years. The resounding clang and yelp brought him satisfaction.

Once Blue got talking though, Sideswipe couldn’t help but lean in and listen, even as Sunny fused and tried to get his attention. Something was going on, and he wanted to know what.

Sunny was thankful he only had to ping Blue to get him to shut up before spilling their secret, mumbling something about being tired and reminding Sideswipe he hadn’t slept in over a day. Of course, he didn’t darken his visor till his brother had.

It was going to be a long trip.

—

In the last month and a half, give or take, it has been nice to just deal with the local issues on the planet instead of jettisoning off to some other part of the system or a neighboring system.

The apartment was at a much more comfortable temperature than it had been in the last week or so with the thermostat on the fritz. The twins were apparently in some tropical paradise with their teams and Megatron’s unit had finally returned to Iacon, just as Optimus Prime had gone across the planet. Hound doubted it was a coincidence.

Currently, Breakdown, Jazz, and himself were sitting together. Trying to enjoy the quiet conversations they really only got to have when Sideswipe wasn’t around or when Sunstreaker didn’t have Bluestreak around.

Even though Jazz cared for Prowl’s brother (though Hound didn’t think that the translation was quite right) he could be a lot of mech to go around even a group of them. He was honestly surprised Sunstreaker was so moon-eyed over him, but was he any different? Any time he could go out in the suit, he found himself at the bar that played music from home with Mirage of all people, the pair of them content to sit and listen.

“Earth to Hound, come in Hound.” A hand was waving in front of his face and he pulled back from it, Jazz smirks and Breakdown chuckles, “Welcome back to the land of the living, what were you thinking about?” Jazz couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice and Hound sighed.

Before smirking and shifting his cooling pack, they were becoming a staple of his whenever home to avoid using up their limiting supplies, “The look on Knockout’s face the other day, when Breakdown asked if he wanted to join us in the market.” The grin on Jazz’s face was wicked even as poor Breakdown looked more confused than anything, “I was trying to be kind.” Chuckling, Jazz shakes his head, “Yeah, and flirting.” Hound snorts as Breakdown turns bright red, saying something neither of them understood which only made Jazz laugh harder.

To be fair, they wouldn’t be this giggly if the twins hadn’t perfected their still. So liquid courage was certainly a help in this.

“As if you are the one to talk Jazz! You and Prowl!” Breakdown frowns down at his cube, they were large but thankfully not full of gin. Or the closest that they could make to gin with their alien plants, “And I’ve never denied it! Just tried to keep the PDA on the down low, it’s a bit odd, dating a giant alien.” Jazz shrugged a bit even as Hound chuckled, setting aside his glass, this stuff was far too strong to be healthy. “What? I have, you all didn’t know for months.” Sighing, Breakdown shook his head, “Regardless, I was not flirting. Just trying to be kind.” Both Jazz and Hound hummed, unconvinced.

They lulled into silence for a bit, to watch the city, all thinking of their own relationships. Thinking of this place and how much things had changed in the last, six months, more? God, Hound wasn’t sure anymore. Frowning he looks down at his watch, now broken, just a habit to wear it still. Adjusting the cooling back to sit just under his implants, he sighs and closes his eyes. They all got lost in their own trains of thought, each trying to deal with their demons in their own way.

Jazz was the first to break his silence.

“You need to stop talking to them about the treatment we got from MECHA.” Jazz’s voice was quiet, the apartment was dark but the sky line of Iacon in the night showed through the window, “What? Why?” Hound glanced over, shifting the cooling pack on his neck, “There are things you don’t know about Cybertron, who they used to be, who they fought to not be.” There was something in Jazz’s eyes that made Hound want to ask a million questions but he stayed quiet, “Our recent history sounds like their darkest days.” Breakdown rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Our planet is living ours.” Sighing, Jazz nodded, “I know, but it doesn’t change the fact that they're eerily similar.” Both Hound and Breakdown slowly nodded.

Looking back out on Iacon, Hound felt his throat tighten, “I’m not going to lie,” “No, you shouldn’t, but stop bringing light to the torture we faced.” He winced and closed his eyes.

How could being the only one compatible in his family be torture? How could wanting the freedom for their planet be torture? How could becoming the best part of his life be torture?

“And don’t listen to the voice they put in your head during testing.” Jazz’s voice was lower, he was staring at Iacon with such intensity, “It will ask you how it could be torture, to be a hero, choosing to forget every moment of horror we face.” His fingers brushed lightly over his implants, eyes watering.

Nodding slowly, Hound took a slow breath, “We were soldiers Jazz, our bodies haven’t been our property since we were eighteen.” He shifted and rested a hand on Hound’s shoulder, squeezing, “I know, but it’s time to take it back.” Jazz chuckled, “None of them can get to us here, we’re still fighting for our planet, but on our terms.” His gaze turned to Breakdown’s, “No one’s going to die, not of our crew, not on our watch.” Breakdown nodded firmly, eyes watering too, “We have to learn to live again.” Jazz looks between them.

They sat there, quietly for a moment, “We were tortured for the sake of it, weren’t we?” Hound’s voice wavered, tears forming, “I think so. Discovery or not, it doesn’t change that we’ve been owned, used, and abused.” He nodded slowly, even as the tears fell down his face, gasping once before covering it with his hands. Carefully, Jazz rubbed Hound’s back as the man cried.

He could love his life, love being a pilot, be proud of it even and still know, finally know, that how they did it was wrong. No wonder the Cybertronian’s stared at them every time they mentioned the work back home, every time they threw themselves on the live grenade, it wasn’t expected or needed of them here. They didn’t have to be the sacrifice for “the greater good”. The guinea pigs for the never ending, churning machine that was this war from hell.

Taking a slow and deep breath, Hound wiped his eyes and stared back at Iacon.

It was a beautiful city, how the cities of his memory looked, before they were destroyed. Before every beautiful thing in their world had become nothing more than a resource. How everything had become expendable beside the suit.

“Dozens of pilots tried to pilot Vortex before Aid came along, and they just kept sending them to die, for data.” Jazz nodded slowly as Breakdown hung his head, “They sent us to die, for data.” Sighing slowly, Jazz laid a careful arm around Breakdown, “We’re more than just a resource here.” He smiles a bit, “Joan had to remind me a million times my first year here, that freedom is the right of all sentient beings and what we endured. That was not freedom.” What it wasn’t didn’t need to be said, it was so plain as day.

Hound hung his head in shame, the pilots lived and breathed the propaganda. Unwilling, no, unable to open their eyes with Shockwave digging through their coding every—

“It’s been six months.” It hit him and Breakdown at the same time. The same instant, “Actually, closer to nine now, but yeah. It’s funny how it’s easier to see when they aren’t digging through your brain every six months or so.” Jazz stood and went to the window, leaning against it to stare at the soldiers in front of him, leaving his glass almost empty, “So, what are you going to do with your freedom?” Hound and Breakdown shared a glance, looked to Jazz, then to Iacon before back at each other and grinning.

Standing, Hound offers Breakdown a hand and helps him up, the poor man stumbled slightly, having had more to drink than either Jazz or himself, “Jazz, we’re going to fight to live.” His smile was contagious and bright, “I was hoping you’d say that.” Jazz’s voice was light, lighter than it had been when they decided to drink that evening.

Fighting to live gave them more time, fighting for Cybertron gave them people they could trust. The more of both they had, the less likely it was that they’d die as soon as they stepped foot on Quintessa.

———

A/N

HOLY FUCK 5k words, that is more than I thought it was going to be but I almost posted the chapter without the intro which would have made me very sad to forget.

So, there is a tiny time skip in this chapter as we saw, but next chapter I will be going over the events leading up to the chapter after, which takes place several months from now.

Honestly, I am kinda sad that I’ll be time skipping but it’s time, it has been a minute and I need to progress the story.

Is my plan set in stone? No, I think I have proved that with literally finishing the chapter and putting it up right after. But, do I know where I want it to go? Vaguely. Uh, I think..

Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I know the twins part towards the end is rough but I have the hardest time with Sideswipe out of anyone.. I kinda know why but yeah, I need to do a him focused chapter soon.

Also blame the delay on the fact my mind has been eating itself, I got into an audiobook the other day and now am listening to the 9 book series. I have made a grave mistake.

TAGS

Thank you @keferon for this amazing AU, I would not have written god knows how many words of this fic without you.

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscrapheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend @sunnyvibesanddoodles @ratatatata248 @ijustneedausernaneplease4444444 @sprook-children @fooolisher

#transformers #maccadam #the arcturus missions #tf mecha universe #tf mecha au #mecha pilot jazz au #mech pilot jazz au #Hound #breakdown #sunstreaker #sideswipe #mirage #bluestreak #prowl #knockout

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thelovehypothesis · 7 months ago

Text

Lights, Camera, Flirt

Carlos Sainz x Fem!actress!reader

From this request!

Summary: On set, Carlos flirts endlessly, and sparks fly—both on camera and off...

a/n’s: This is a recent request!

warning: fluff, fluff, fluff!

The soft hum of the studio lights buzzed as you stood in front of the mirror, fidgeting with the hem of your leather jacket. It was a polished but casual look—a perfect fit for today’s shoot promoting Formula 1, a new venture for you. Being an actress, you were used to long hours on set, but working in a sports-adjacent environment like this felt different. The idea was to bring more eyes to the sport—broaden its viewership—and someone thought it was a good idea to pair you with one of F1's top drivers, Carlos Sainz.

You weren’t entirely sure what to expect from him. From what you’d heard, Carlos was a total charmer. And while a little flirtation could be fun, you were determined to be as professional as possible. The last thing you needed was to get flustered in front of cameras.

The crew buzzed around you, adjusting lights and preparing equipment as you tried to focus. The director had explained that today’s work would involve some casual interviews, behind-the-scenes shots, and some promo clips where you'd playfully interact with Carlos to showcase the fun side of the sport.

“Alright, ready to go?” the assistant director asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You nodded, taking a breath. Just a job, you reminded yourself.

Then, Carlos walked in.

He was every bit the picture of a star athlete. Dressed in his red Ferrari team kit, dark hair perfectly tousled, and a confident smile that tugged at the corners of his lips, he exuded a kind of effortless charisma that made it hard to look anywhere else. The energy in the room seemed to shift the moment he stepped on set, all eyes automatically drawn to him.

“Hola,” he greeted warmly, walking over to you, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You must be the one and only Y/N Y/LN I’ve been hearing so much about.”

You smiled, offering your hand. “That’s me. I hope I can keep up with a star like you.”

His hand was firm but gentle as he shook yours, holding it just a second longer than necessary.

“I think I’m the one who’ll need to keep up with you,” he said, his voice a low murmur, his accent making the words seem smoother than they had any right to be.

You let out a polite laugh, already sensing that keeping things professional around him was going to be a challenge. But you were here to do a job, and so was he.

The crew gathered around, making final adjustments as the director explained the shots they'd be filming. The first segment was an interview where you and Carlos would chat about the upcoming F1 season, his team switch,, the thrill of the races, and how someone new to the sport—like you—could get into it.

“So,” Carlos started once the cameras were rolling, “how much do you know about Formula 1?”

You leaned in slightly, a smile tugging at your lips. “I know enough to know you’ve got a pretty packed season ahead of you.”

He raised a brow. “And enough to know I’m probably your favourite driver now, sí?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the flirtatious tone in his voice. But instead of letting it throw you, you tilted your head playfully. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to see how today goes before I make any declarations.”

Carlos grinned, leaning back in his chair, clearly amused by your deflection. “Challenge accepted.”

Throughout the interview, he kept up a steady stream of light banter, occasionally throwing in a playful comment that made it nearly impossible for you to keep a straight face. Every time you tried to steer the conversation back on track, he’d toss in something cheeky, making the crew laugh as you struggled not to break character.

“So, what about driving?” he asked at one point, his expression a little more serious. “Do you like fast cars?”

“I think I could get used to them,” you replied smoothly, knowing full well where he was taking this conversation.

Carlos’ eyes sparkled with a playful glint. “Maybe I’ll take you for a spin sometime. Show you how a real professional handles a car.”

You bit back a laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I’ll hold you to that,” you said, shooting him a knowing look, to which he winked—an actual wink.

The director called cut, giving the crew a short break while the cameras reset for the next segment. As you stood to stretch, Carlos approached you again, his tone a little softer but no less playful.

“You’re good at this,” he said, nodding toward the cameras. “I almost believed you weren’t enjoying my flirting.”

“I’m trying to stay professional,” you teased. “You’re making that a little hard.”

He chuckled, looking far too pleased with himself. “I think you’re doing a fantastic job. It’s not my fault I’m irresistibly charming.”

“Modest, too.”

He grinned, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “I’ve been told it’s one of my better qualities.”

Before you could respond, the director called everyone back to set for the next shoot—a light-hearted promo bit where the two of you would be doing some silly races with miniature cars. As you both knelt on the floor, lining up your tiny cars for the race, Carlos was back to his antics.

“Loser has to buy dinner,” he quipped, positioning his car.

You raised a brow, not missing the suggestiveness in his tone. “What makes you think I’ll lose?”

He flashed that infamous grin again. “Just a feeling.”

“Don’t count me out just yet, Sainz,” you said, focusing on the little car in front of you. “I’m competitive too, you know.”

As the mini-race began, the room was filled with laughter and cheers, the silly nature of the task making it easy to relax and have fun. Carlos, of course, managed to sneak in more playful comments as you battled for first place. Despite your best efforts to ignore him, you found yourself smiling more than you probably should have.

In the end, you did lose by a fraction of an inch.

“So,” Carlos said, standing up and offering you his hand to pull you off the floor. “Where are we going for dinner?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help grinning as you took his hand. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Si,” he said, laughing softly. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s a night you won’t forget.”

His tone was teasing, but there was a warmth in his gaze that made you wonder if there was more behind his playful flirting. It was clear that Carlos wasn’t just charming for the sake of the cameras—there was something genuine in the way he looked at you, the way he seemed to enjoy your company.

As the shoot wrapped up, you found yourself lingering on set, chatting with Carlos long after the cameras had stopped rolling. You couldn’t deny it anymore—Carlos Sainz was more than just a flirt. He was kind, funny, and had a way of making you feel completely at ease, even as he teased you relentlessly.

“So,” he said, his voice soft as the two of you walked toward the exit. “About that dinner…”

You smiled up at him, finally giving in to the undeniable chemistry that had been building between you all day. “I think I might be free tonight after all.”

----

Hope you liked it! and let me know if you want to know how take dinner went.....

-Lots of love, Em.

#carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz fic recs #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz angst

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huellitaa · 1 year ago

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⋅˚₊‧ ୨ feeling uncomfy in ur own skin

ok so this is something ive been struggling with for years. like i wake up some days and just feel Eugh way more than id like to. SO i decided i'd make a little guide on this! for me and for you 🩷✨

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 reasons why we could be feeling uncomfortable with ourselves and who we are

♡ having a shitty mental diet and consuming media and things that make you feel bad abt urself

♡ being in an environment where we're constantly being judged or put down, even over the most basic things

♡ hanging around negative people or negative places

♡ not giving urself enough credit for ur own achievements and accomplishments

♡ changing urself constantly for others and not having a clear sense of self to hold on to

♡ not having boundaries on how you and others treat you

♡ staying stagnant in the same place in your life and not changing (🎀🗒️also read: get comfy being uncomfy ♡)

♡ not paying enough attention to yourself and avoiding your genuine thoughts, feelings and emotions

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. be gentle with yourself!

pleasepleaseplease its ok to have bad days its ok to not feel great every day. treat yourself as you would someone you love. if you just aren't feeling good today, then you aren't feeling good! honour that and respect that and deal with that accordingly. even if you are uncomfortable with yourself right now or you don't like yourself right now, please try and treat yourself with care regardless, because no matter what stage you are in in your life right now you are and always will be the most important person in ur life, so TREAT URSELF LIKE IT🫶💖

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. inspiration, not comparison!

i know its often told not to go looking at people who are ahead of you in these times but hear me out. i think looking at and observing people you admire who are further ahead of you is very motivating to build yourself up and *become more like them* in your own way. you look up to them because of ___? what can you do to become your own version of that? thinking like this gets me more inspired to just get out of bed because i want to be more like them.

two words for this one - NO. COMPARISON. gaining inspiration from others to better yourself and comparing yourself to others are two completely different things. 🫶 (shameless self promo, but i have a post on this here! 🩷✨)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. analysis: detective work chapter!

journal and think and think to urself why u might feel like this or what caused this. when did it start? has anything happened lately that may have caused this? how does it feel, in depth? what can you do to combat this? how can you make it through the day & make it so you do even better tomorrow?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. channeling the mindset!

back to my point on our idols, thinking like them & thinking what they'd do in this situation helps me a lot. personally one of my idols is ada lovelace so whenever im really tired and unmotivated or insecure on my abilities or appearance or anything else i think to myself "what would she do?" and 9 times out of 10 im up at my desk in my cutest outfit hard at work. this is def one of my favourite points and something i use on the daily for like literally everything and 100% recommend 🩷✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. what would i do?

similarly, ask urself what the best version of yourself or the version of urself youre working towards would do in this situation. be your own inspiration. be ur own muse. would they stay in bed and rot all day? if the answer is no then ur up. out. immediately. ask urself what they would do. if ur feeling drained, would they take a day off to do some self care and recharge? if ur feeling sad, would they be gentle with themselves and let themselves feel sad for a little while & try to work to the root of the problem?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. understanding yourself!

make a list of the things that make you the happiest and most comfortable & productive and the things that make you the unhappiest and the opposite of those things. i mentioned this in my recharge day post, but figuring out these will help you find out which negative behaviours or habits are lowering ur vibrations and making u feel like this, and help u to engage more in the things that make you happy with yourself and everything around you 💗✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. pay attention!

pay close attention to ur internal landscape and your self talk throughout the day. note down every little thing you notice, even if you think it won't be helpful; for example, do you find yourself indulging in negative talk abt urself, negative talk abt others, constantly being pessimistic and expecting the worst, indulging in judgement and criticism of urself and everyone around you, getting distracted easily, and so on.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. what would i do, part 2

like i mentioned earlier, you should be your own inspiration. you should be your own muse. as much as it's nice to have idols, when ur trying to change something about urself and adjust and improve ur own behaviours, you should be mainly focusing on what you want to achieve by changing said behaviours. do you know who you're working towards being? do you know how you want to feel? do you know what you are changing these things you feel into? think about whether or not the person you are now lines up with the person you want to be in all aspects of ur life. if you feel like you aren't even trying to meet these standards then of course ur gonna feel bad about urself. of course don't be too hard on urself, but keep this in mind. 💓✨

finally, remember that these things are temporary and it wont be like this forever. ur beautiful and perfect no matter what and in these times u gotta show up for yourself even more and never give up! i believe in u 🫶🩷

all my love 💗💬✨🎀

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wakayrd · 2 months ago

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Question for your Theater AU!

How do you think an ecounter between canon Sif and you AU Sif would go.

By Acts for clarification.

I feel like Canon Sif MAY have a disaociative episode during later Acts if they were suddenly droped into a theater that confirms his growing detatchment towards his family, but what about you?

This was an interesting ask that immediately had my thoughts racing. I was thinking about where in the timeline was Curtain Call Siffrin when this sort of interaction was happening? And then on top of that how would it be different if it was multiple interactions each act? How would it be better / worse if it was not just Curtain Call Siffrin but the rest of the crew? Curtain Call Siffrin spends a lot of time at the theatre “alone”, once they got his own code into the theatre. Luckily the theatre owner Euphrasie is very kind about wandering souls like that, and doesn’t mind as long as Siffrin isn’t bringing in others from outside the company into the theatre (for insurance reasons) or using any power tools / doing activities that you shouldn’t be alone for. Euphrasie isn’t at the theatre often anyhow, so it’s a lovely quiet place to do whatever. It’d be so funny to have Siffrin show up then, but also just as fun if it was during a rehearsal. In terms of when in my timeline, it’s going to be exactly where I’ve been sitting so… in certain ways, Curtain Call Siffrin is going to seem a bit clueless. But isn’t it nice to be that way? It all makes me go teehee… I’ve written out my thoughts of what I would think would happen depending on the Act if Siffrin showed up at the theatre. Spoilers for the whole game ahead- and 2hats! This is a long post btw but there's art too so I hope it's all worth it? I tried my best to capture what I thought would happen but I am still trying to understand the characters and how they'd react so if you have different ideas about how certain things would happen feel free to let me know!

CC Siffrin = Curtain Call Siffrin Spirit = Spirit Of The Theatre (aka Loop in the theatre)

ACT 1

Siffrin isn’t that perturbed being there other than a typical “why am I here? Why is there another Siffrin here? What is all of this?” I imagine. It’s one of the lightest interactions compared to the other acts. It’s just a nice bonding moment between Siffrins- especially if this is before the crunch of the rock there isn’t much reason for there to be an issue or any worries other than "well I need to go back to fight the king with my friends" but Siffrin likely assumes this is a dream. Assuming that there isn’t hostility when they’re both like “??? hello?” I imagine they would talk about plays that have happened, where they are in their lives and the people that they know- allies, friends, whatever-you-want-to-call-them. A good time. We all know Siffrins need a good time and that’s this.

ACT 2

Siffrin is a bit thrown off by the fact that they’re in a theatre. From my memory Siffrin hasn’t really slipped that much into referring to their timeloops as a stage / theatre in Act 2, so it feels calming to be somewhere that they kinda enjoy- it’s a time to think about “huh, maybe I can see a play eventually after we defeat the king”. Meeting CC Siffrin is quite a shock. They exchange a bit of their stories. Siffrin tells CC Siffrin about the time loops and while CC Siffrin cannot relate, they do kinda offer his support to them. Siffrin asks to hear about the next play they’re putting on. If they see the rest of the crew, I imagine it’s bittersweet. It’s nice to know they’re happy and don’t have to deal with the King in another universe. … If they see Spirit, they call out to them. Spirit is a bit shocked, and obviously isn’t Siffrin’s Loop. They quickly dismiss the new Siffrin and tell them that they’re not who Siffrin thinks they are!

No art for Act 2... I just couldn't come up with anything. SORRY!

ACT 3 + 4

… Teehee. I’m only combining 3 and 4 because my brain is always foggy on where exactly it switches but I am pretty sure it’s after Bonnie… yeah. Still! They’re both pretty similar.

Act 3 and 4 Siffrin is where we start to see the dread and panic. At first, Siffrin thinks that the stage before them is a dream. When they see…. Themselves come onto the stage (because CC Siffrin was working on something backstage when he heard someone out there), reasonably Siffrin felt nauseous. It takes a long while for the air to clear between the two- if the others are there I can imagine it’s worse because Siffrin could have very well walked into a rehearsal. It’s kinda funny, in an awful way- walking into carbon copies of people you love, you love them so so so much- reciting lines knowingly and laughing as they flub up or accidentally go a bit off script. Siffrin hates it.

Either way, Act 3 and 4 Siffrin is not mentally okay enough for all this. It feels good to not be in the presence of the group- if anything, hanging out on the catwalks and pretending they’re a distant observer of this group of people makes it easier but also way way too familiar. Siffrin and CC Siffrin probably talk a bit- I can imagine it’s not easy for Siffrin, so CC Siffrin tries to fill the space with some things. Siffrin often zones out on him. If it’s intentional or not, CC Siffrin doesn’t know. Siffrin interacting with Spirit comes off a bit more desperate. Maybe this version of Loop can help them surely, surely the situation isn’t as impossible as it feels- but Spirit is uncomfortable. They kinda hate that this Siffrin knows that their existence is tied to the idea of time loops in some way! They’re quick to inform Siffrin that they’re not whomever he thinks they are- they cannot help.

ACT 5

Uh oh. Siffrin hates it. Hates every second of it. The only reason they vaguely keep up pleasantries with CC Siffrin is because maybe then they can get back to where they were away from these fakes, if they’re nice. He doesn't even want to think about why they're in this theatre or what happened for him to end up here. It’s so awkward because everything that rolls off of Siffrin’s tongue feels wrong. CC Siffrin quickly realizes that Siffrin really isn’t doing good, but thinks anything that he tries to do won’t help. It's kinda this internal "oh this guy is not okay" for CC Siffrin.

Siffrin just wants to get back. So they can defeat the King and get out of here. They hate the theatre. They HATE it. They want out. They probably dissociate for a majority of the time they’re at the theatre. Get them out of this blinding play! It’s worse if the others are there- there’s a longing there, a want to get to talk to them even if they’re not their family but they feel absolutely vile seeing them in this setting. It’s very much a “don’t look at me ever but also hug me so tight you crush me” I imagine. They need to get back, they're so close to getting out of these time loops! They don’t want to talk to Spirit. Can’t trust them.

ACT 6

Still the same feeling of apprehension. When they see another version of themselves, it’s a bit of confusion but also the shock of seeing another him throws them back into reality. The two Siffrins talk for a bit about what's going on, which definitely tells Siffrin that the theatre is an OKAY place to be right now, and that everything is fine. He’s still a bit shaky about it, and is trying not to think too hard about it.

Siffrin retelling the story of where they’re from to CC Siffrin would be fun- CC Siffrin just sits there with wide eyes, it does feel like something out of one of the plays they know. Siffrin brings up nothing about the wishes. They exchange little stories, tell Siffrin about how they’ve been helping out with the theatre and that it’s been very nice to get to know everyone. Siffrin finds CC Siffrin a bit endearing, in the way that they clearly enjoy working with everyone and haven’t been tortured by their own wish like they have. It’s honestly fun and really cute to hear about how Odile is a stage manager, Isabeau and Mirabelle act most of the plays and how Bonnie helps out with snacks. If Siffrin does happen to bring up wishes, they get interrupted by someone clearing their (nonexistent) throat- Spirit.

The moment they spot Spirit they’re hit with another wave of confusion- I imagine the Siffrins are sitting on the stage, and Spirit is above on the catwalk. It's this long moment of silence- to break it, CC Siffrin explains that Spirit is the Spirit of the Theatre, and that nobody else knows they’re there. Siffrin and Spirit lock eyes, and Spirit shakes their head slightly at them. No. Don’t talk about it.

Siffrin requests to speak to Spirit alone. CC Siffrin is a bit confused by it, but obliges. Maybe this person means a lot to Siffrin. He goes off- they’re actually going to grab something for the two of them to eat because Siffrin looks like they should eat.

The conversation between Spirit and Siffrin is tense and awkward. I wrote an approximation of what I think would happen here (pardon my writing I haven't written fanfiction in years. I'm still trying to get a grasp on the characters personally... but I am trying my best). Siffrin probably comes clean right away about- “I know who you are, Spirit. At least, I do if you’re the same as the version from my world.” “...” “Do I need to say it?” “... No.” “...Is this er, this version of Siffrin” with a gesture below to the stage “aware of the time loops? They certainly don’t act like he is.”

“They haven’t started yet.”

“.... oh. How long, until…?”

“I have 10 more months to figure out how to stop him from ever suggesting that play, making that blinding wish and hurting everyone.”

“Stars…Well, we have some time to think about it. Maybe I was sent here to… help?” They spend a bit talking about Siffrin’s experience and how his wish was what caused this time loop to happen, and how they got out of the loops by talking to their friends- their family. Spirit can’t hide the anger they have. Clearly, this was a solution they never thought of.

Siffrin is a bit understanding. They explain what Loop was to them, and how he was saved by them and their help. That they can’t release the burden that Spirit is under and can’t relieve the pain they’ll go through, but they understand vaguely what Spirit may be feeling now that they know the truth about their Loop.

Siffrin does wonder why Spirit doesn't want to tell CC Siffrin about wishes at all, but if Spirit is trying to prevent him from making a wish in the first place, perhaps telling them about it isn't a good idea. “Thank you for being here, Spirit.”

“Well I don’t believe I can actually leave the theatre, so the thanks is mute-”

“Still, you may not hear it properly from your Siffrin, but I see what you’re doing and I want to say thank you.”

"I haven't done anything yet." "But you will, so thank you."

“...”

“...You know, my understudy believes I’m actually a spirit. They think I have no physical form at all. It’s kind of amusing.” “But then how do you keep the hat on?” “I guess he hasn’t thought that far.” They laugh about it. Some tension has been relieved. They talk a bit more about how the loops happen in the theatre (Spoilers! teehee.) Honestly it’s the most seen and real Spirit has ever felt. There doesn’t need to be a justification or explanation for their existence, and they’re with someone who understands as much as they need to without having to do the icky vulnerable part of it all. They're ignoring the jealousy for now that's rooted in them over the sheer bliss of being seen. Teehee. ACT 6 Siffrin is the most cathartic of them all to me. Plus, Spirit deserves it! I also tried using a new pen for the art and while i miss my bold lines, i think I really like this one more... I may experiment more with it all :)

#in stars and time #isat #isat siffrin #isat fanart #isat au #isat curtain call #isat loop #waka art #long post #thank you for the ask!#isat spoilers

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moonveiltarot · 6 months ago

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YES OR NO PICK A CARD TAROT READING

Think of your "yes or no" question and choose an image from above that you're drawn to. This is just a quick reading!

1 - 2 - 3

4 - 5 - 6

7 - 8 - 9

10-11-12

1. The Magician. I'm getting a yes from this card. You're currently manifesting whatever you asked about. Your practical and spiritual actions are in alignment with what you asked for. I'm assuming it's something you really want, in which case, you can absolutely achieve it.

2. Two of Wands. Yes. You're probably still in the planning stage or will be making a solid plan to move forward soon. You are on the right track, follow your intuition for each step. If you ever get nervous about making the wrong move, your guides are with you every step of the way. Mistakes are okay to make. They won't be detrimental to your plans or manifestations.

3. Seven of Wands. Not yet. Your defenses are up, but there are legitimate reasons for you to be guarded right now. Your spirit team want you to know that your struggles will be over soon and your blessing is right at the end of this difficult time. This is part of the manifestation. Inner work is being done now, as seven is the number of actively overcoming obstacles. You are going to succeed in this as long as you don't give up.

4. The Lovers Reversed. No. This decision is not in alignment with the path you want to go down. If you are having negative thoughts, they are not in alignment with your higher purpose and are throwing you off guard. If this is a potential love interest, avoid canoodling of any kind. Just because there is chemistry and a vibe that only you two feel does not make this person your soul mate or twin flame. They are likely not a good option for you right now or they may not be available. If you're inquiring about a person, you don't know enough about them to assume they'd be a good match. You need to avoid this for now. The Page of Pentacles popped up as well, so take your time and look at this practically. Get grounded and think about this choice or person realistically.

5. The Lovers. Yes. You can firmly make this decision. If you are of two minds, spirit is urging you to take the path you are most drawn to intuitively. I saw the Two of Swords a moment ago flip over with this card. Some of you need to make a decision now or spirit will assign you one to put you in alignment with your goals. Seriously make this choice and stick to it, don't doubt yourself. Your intuition is correct. Whichever path you take is going to lead you to where you want to go. (This deck has 4 lovers cards and I got the NB lovers for this pile, so you may be NB or it's just a gender neutral card for spirit's message to reach whoever it is intended to).

6. The Devil reversed. Yes, but there is some healing to do. You seem to be making the right choices and aligning with your true purpose, which is the life you choose to live. You are overcoming an addiction, bad habit, abusive behavior or completing a karmic cycle. Your path ahead is one of healing and recovery, but it's worth it. Good job making such a strong decision! Your spirit team is proud of you and happy for you.

7. 6 of Cups. Yes. Your inner child is happy about this, go for it! It may not seem very grown up to others, but if it brings you joy and delight, go for it. Everyone else can shove off, to be honest. This is for you and your happiness. Go ahead and indulge. If it's about love, yes, someone is coming back or reuniting with you and it will feel so good. It could also involve a childhood home, family or an inheritance. Regardless, whatever your question was … the answer is yes!

8. Strength. YES! You can handle whatever you inquired about or choose to take on here soon. You are able to do this with dignity and grace. I can see you making it look effortless, even if there were a lot of options or some confusing circumstances. You are going to get through whatever difficult times you are facing coming up, if there are any.

9. Justice. Yes!! Justice and balance are returning. Did you ask if you're pretty? The answer is yes, you are symmetrical or harmonious in terms of facial features and aesthetics. You look very pleasant. Your mannerisms and behaviors are enjoyable too. If you asked about a situation that needs to play out and you wonder if it will go in your favor, justice tells us that the scales will be karmically balanced. You saw what you saw, you heard what you heard. You aren't crazy, that really happened. I felt like that last part needed to be on here for some reason … were you gaslit a lot about something?

10. Eight of Wands. Yes. Whatever you asked about is moving along quickly or will arrive soon. I'm seeing someone on a motorcycle in my mind. Confirmation? It's arriving quickly and there's a sense of excitement. Are you waiting for a package? It's definitely going to arrive. If it's communication or something, it may be brief, but it will happen.

11. The Hanged Man. Not yet. You need to see things from a new perspective, most likely another person's. See from their point of view. After that, you can really think the situation through. Maybe turn to your crystals or tarot for more guidance. I felt like a couple of you might need to hear that to nudge you in the right direction. Meditation may help to clear your mind too. Try to be emotionally balanced in this situation as you view things from their perspective. Your guides love you and want you to be understanding of the other person. Eventually, this will be a yes.

12. King of Swords. Yes. Think logically and be decisive about this matter. You probably already are and just needed this nudge in the right direction. In which case, yes, you have a practical and logical response or person or thing in mind. Your strategy is working and will continue to do so. I heard “Keep your cards close to your chest.” Don't stray from your path, keep to your strategy and you will succeed. Just keep others out of it. No sharing details or being bold about it. Real Gangstas move in silence …

That's all for this reading! Thanks for checking in. Keep in mind that your own thoughts, beliefs, intentions and actions shift the energy surrounding you and your situation. Things may change moment to moment, so check back in from time to time to see how things have changed. Tarot is just an “energy-check-in” tool, it isn't meant to be set in stone. If you ever get a reading you don't like, it's an opportunity to reassess your current vibe and realign with your intentions.

#tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac #tarot reading #yes or no tarot #yes or no

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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WIBTA For telling my partner I'd like to bring my ex into our relationship?

I'm copying this over from r/relationship_advice, because the responses are giving me the impression they don't really get what polyamory is & I'm hoping tumblr does. For reference: there's me (29M), my ex (28, Trans Man), and my partner (30M).

My ex and I were best friends in high school, went to the same college, & dated through the tail end of undergrad, for about a year and change. We ended things on very good terms, the only reason we broke up was a difference in life paths: I stayed in the city to get my Master's, he traveled constantly for his work (he's a sculptor who makes these huge custom multimedia pieces, they're genuinely some of the most beautiful things I've seen). We fell out of touch for the most part, but I'd see him popping up on social media occasionally, or he'd text me when he was in town and we'd hang out, along with some other school friends.

The last time I saw him before our present situation was about 3 1/2 years ago today. We went out for drinks, he came back to my place after, and we ended up hooking up. He stayed in town for about a week, and we hooked up a few more times, and then he left again. He sort of dropped off the face of the earth after that, but he'd always been pretty sporadic, especially when he had a big project, so I didn't think much about it.

Not long after that, I met my current partner. He's truly one of my favorite people in the whole world; he's incredibly thoughtful, and earnest, and passionate about his morals & principles (he's an environmental lawyer), and more than anything, he's someone I never feel like I have to pretend with. He asked for my number, we had our first date a few days later, and ended up staying awake the entire night just talking about anything and everything, so we went ahead and got 5am pancakes and called it our second date. We've been together for a little over 3 years now, we've been moved in together for about 2, and while we've had the occasional fight or rough patch I can definitely say I love this man, and I plan to spend the rest of my life with him.

So, the big change.

About a year ago (~2 years since seeing my ex, my partner and I have lived together for about a year at this point), my partner and I are having a night in, and there's a knock at the door. It's my ex, looking absolutely ragged, holding a 15 month old baby. As in, a baby who was conceived 24 months before then. Yep, it's pretty much what you're guessing. I let them both in, we had a sit down in the kitchen, and he told me everything he'd been doing in the past 2 years in between me cussing him out for keeping it all from me in the first place. I really do want to keep this as short as possible, so to give you the super condensed version:

She's my daughter, he's completely sure about that, there's no one else he's been with the math is even close to correct for

The second he found out he was pregnant, he more or less panicked. He's got a whole Thing about feeling like he's irresponsible/not a "real" adult, and this really set him off, so telling me felt like "admitting to fucking both our lives up" at the time. His OB/GYN said some pretty awful shit to him about not being more careful as a trans man too, which just made it all even worse

Because of all that, he'd genuinely planned to just never tell me I have a daughter & raise her completely on his own, but a few things compounded to force his hand:

The birth was really rough on him, and his recovery was slow enough he was having trouble going back to work, to the point where money was getting tight

On top of that, our daughter has celiac disease, and between paying out of pocket for blood tests & spending more on baby food she's safe to eat, things got desperate enough he went and took out a really dodgy loan from a scummy payday company

He was at our door because all of this had finally spiraled to a point where he'd lost his apartment, they'd been sleeping in his car for about a week, and he couldn't think of anything else to do

I think I was probably feeling every human emotion in existence at the same time through all of this, but the thing I remember most from the whole conversation was the way my partner kept drifting right back to the baby, and the soft way he looked at her. We put my ex & daughter up in a hotel room for the night and told him we needed to talk, and we'd discuss our options in the morning, but I think even then I kind of knew what our answer was going to be.

Sure enough, for the last year and a half we've been co-parenting our little girl, all three of us. We didn't want to juggle who's got her, or force my ex to find a place to stay, so we've turned my partner's home office into our daughter's room, and redid most of the downstairs layout so my ex could move into an actual bedroom, rather than just sleep on our pullout couch in perpetuity. We finally succeeded in convincing him that rest and recovery was more important than trying to contribute to the house finances right away, and it's been magical watching all that stress and terror slowly fall off him. It's like he's a little more alive again every time I look.

Which is where my question comes in.

I'd like to restate, I love my partner 100%. None of this changes that whatsoever. If I ask, and he says no, that will be the end of the discussion for me completely. But I have eyes. My ex is, objectively, a very attractive man. I know we work well together, and I have to admit I'm very curious to see where that same chemistry could lead now that he's not on the other side of the country half the time. I've also been noticing these little moments between him and my partner. Nothing I'd consider crossing a line, but I've caught my partner checking my ex out several times, as well as vice versa, and they get along remarkably well. Sometimes I'll go to enter a room, and see them both sitting there laughing and chatting and playing with our baby, and I'll just hang back to watch because it makes me so happy.

Add to all that, we're pretty deeply ingrained in each other's lives now. My partner and I don't often go out on dates alone anymore, but the last few times we did it felt as if my ex was missing from the table. We watched a movie together last night, and my ex sat in the middle of us with his feet in my partner's lap and his head on my chest, and it felt just as natural as my arm on my partner's shoulder. It's not about just having sex with him, and it's not that I'd want to invite any old person into our relationship. I know we already all love each other, and I think there's potential for that to become romantic between the two of us and my ex.

It just feels as though we're all holding our breath, waiting for someone else to say it first. My ex certainly isn't going to bring it up when he's living rent free in "our" home (it's his home too, but he doesn't seem to see it like that yet). My partner grew up sheltered enough that I'm not sure he's ever heard of polyamory at all, so he's not going to bring it up. That just leaves me.

My problem is, if I'm wrong about what I think I'm seeing, or if I bring it up the wrong way, I can't take it back. I don't want my partner to feel insecure or betrayed, I don't want my ex to feel pressured or put on the spot, and I definitely don't want my daughter to lose any of us, which I know could happen if we aren't all on the same page. Or worse, if we do all date and it goes badly.

Should I just keep this whole thing secret? Is that even worse? Would I be the asshole for opening this can of worms on everyone else?

Help!

#aita #am i the asshole

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newttxt · 2 months ago

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20 questions for fic writers

thank you @strawhattery for @ing me, even though i do feel like it's a not-so-subtle urge to finish my current wips... (i need the kick)

for reference/those who only see my art, i used to be a fic writer who occasionally drew. that's obviously changed, but i am trying to write more, so you can find me at pseudoanalytics on ao3.

1) how many works do you have on ao3?

44, but only 35 are linked to me (9 are anonymous...)

2) what's your total ao3 word count?

347,773 😰

3) what are your top five fics by kudos?

while i nodded, nearly napping (suddenly there came a tapping) [haikyuu, ushiten]

redacted :/

the inherent romance of classical conditioning (or, the fine art of emotional recognition) [haikyuu, sakuatsu]

you're really pushing it (but you're going much too slowly) [haikyuu, ushiten]

redacted :/ (sequel to the first redacted...)

4) what fandoms do you write for?

most of my fics are so old i can't bear to look at them, but i'm trying to write more for one piece. then i've written a decent amount of haikyuu, pacific rim, and star wars.

5) do you respond to comments? why or why not?

initially? i absolutely do! but as any of my friends will tell you, i struggle to even reply to dms or texts. so alas. i drop off pretty quickly

i LOVE comments though, and i eagerly read and reread them frequently ;__;

6) what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh sheesh. you may only ask once (so be prepared for the reply) which is a bad end for pacific rim 2. or i guess... a worse end. it's also a bit of a role swap au, if i remember correctly.

7) what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i... honestly don't know. i typically write happy endings. i like to write "missing scenes" and post-canon, so things tend to be rather open-ended or to just lead into the next part of canon. my memory is also not my prize-winning quality, so i can't really remember how my fics ended pre-2018ish.

8) do you get hate on fics?

i know i've gotten some ruder bookmarks, but not typically, no. i get more hate on art or in my ask box, but i honestly just delete it all, so it never sticks.

9) do you write smut?

yes, though its debatable if it's "smut" so much as "sex in such an irreverent context that it becomes humor." i cannot take sex seriously, so alas, i rarely write it seriously. i use it more as comedy and a tool for character studies. i do enjoy a stoic character's facade getting cracked open.

10) do you write crossovers?

i don't write legitimate crossovers, with characters from different medias intermingling, and frankly, i rarely do au's either.

but if i have one weakness, it's that i am ALWAYS a sucker for a pacific rim au. yes, i am rotating a one piece version in my head.

11) have you ever had a fic stolen?

i had a sakuatsu one reuploaded to wattpad under someone else's username. they deleted my author's notes and added their own, as if they'd written the fic, too. hilariously they even used my art for the cover.

it got taken down, but idk why. i never reached out about it.

12) have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah! i've had 5 translated, and i've had 2 turned into podfics, which is cool.

13) have you ever cowritten a fic before?

nope. i'd be terrible to work with, tbh. my writing process is a holdover from my journalism days, and the steps are a mystery even to me. i think i'll stick to drawing art for other ppl and their fics.

14) what's your all time favorite ship?

i will hold to the fact that it's asanoya from ao3. they were the first ship i got really invested in, and i see their impact on everything i ship to this day. they were my "blueprint," if you will. i still get smiley when i see art for them!

on the flip side... terezi/vriska was also a formative ship for me. but i won't discuss that.

15) what's the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

rip go ahead and start talking (i'll pick up the slack). it's my 1-of-2-chapters ushiten fic that i should just mark as complete, since the first chapter can stand alone.

16) what are your writing strengths?

hard to determine your own strengths, but i think my dialogue/characterization are pretty strong, especially since i still regularly flex those muscles when writing comics. i also think i'm funny.

17) what are your writing weaknesses?

writing.

but seriously, i am so bad at sitting down and just hammering out a fic. don't get me started on outlines or longform works. i'd rather grab my pencil and start drawing, i'm afraid.

18) thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think there are ways to interweave words or terms in other languages, but overall, i'm a fan of just standardizing everything into one language. if your character understands it, i think all readers should be able to understand it. and i'm not a fan of when you're expected to scroll to the end for a translation; i think it interrupts the reading flow.

this is a generalized opinion though. i think there are ALWAYS storytelling exceptions, so if the other language usage is really important to your theme/intent, i can see why you would do this!

19) first fandom you wrote for?

please don't do this to me. it was maximum ride. yes, the james patterson books about the kids with bird wings. i wrote 4-5 fics, i was in middle school, and — as far as i know — they are still up on ff dot net. no, i won't elaborate.

20) favourite fic you've ever written?

hands down, it's the sakuatsu domesticity simulator. it's not necessarily my best work in terms of writing skill, but i also drew over 50 images for it and html coded it into an interactive story. i'm just proud that i started a big project by myself and i actually finished it!

it's my dream to someday make a whole visual fan novel. i feel like the domesticity sim was the first step.

oh boy i'm bad at tagging but if @syrupfog, @lawsbbygirl, @macabrekawaii , @bmouse, or @cooknumber3 want to go for it... :))

#ask #sorta not really #long post #bree actually tagged my personal/reblog account #but im sticking it here in case anyone wants to see that im a real person and not just a lulaw comic art machine

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3amstoryreader · 20 days ago

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Medicine Pocket as your partner pt.1

Warnings: nothing just Medicine Pocket maybe some parts will be a bit suggestive (and ofc there'll be a bit of swearing)

It's my first time writing after years

Part 2

Congratulations, that's impressive. You're the Medicine Pocket fav idiot and everybody at Laplace knows it.

They'd never try to hide your relationship. Quite the opposite if you don't work at the Foundation or you just work in a different department. Whenever you stop by, everyone will see the white-haired researcher running at the speed of light through rooms and corridors to greet their lover idiot.

"Is it really okay to stay here?"

"Tsk just stop fucking worrying yourself the bucket head says you can stay here next to me as long as a work properly"

Bite marks, yeah, bite marks all around your body 24/7. I believe biting is MedPoc way of showing you their love, but look at the positive aspect less money spent on chewing toys and pillows.

"Are you serious, Medpo? You left another one around my neck while I was asleep. How am I supposed to hide it now?"

"Just don't, dumbass? You look so fucking hot with those cute marks on you and anyway everybody at Laplace saw em"

"I hate you, I'm not letting you sleep on the bed for a week"

"Bet"

You are the only lucky person who gets to read MedPoc works and research and sit on their laps while they're working or just yapping about what happened in the lab today.

"Dammit that piece of talking metal still refuses to fund my new puppies area just because we're saving up for other fucking useless projects like, who the fuck needs socialisation room!??!"

"Where do you think you're going, (name)? You know that I work better with you on my laps*insert dramatic voice*"

"I'm getting us something to eat since cuz you've been working for hours"

Petnames. I feel like Medpo would call you something like idiot, puppy, dumbass, my love, and cutie. Sometimes they'll use meanier names on accident but never mean it.

"My love, please don't leave. I wanna stay in bed a little longer. I bet X wouldn't mind if we're late"

Quality time is important for them, whether it's cuddling in the morning or walking together while holding hands. It was mentioned somewhere that MedPo would rather spend time running outside like a dog instead of staying in one of those relax rooms. So I guess they'll ask you to spend the day outside (when they're not busy) for long walks, picnics, or just enjoying nature.

"Puppy, look, the weather is good today. Get your ass up and wear something comfortable, and if you can't find anything just take something for my wardrobe. We're going outside"

Speaking of cuddles, believe me or not, MedPo is extremely touchy, needy, and a tease when it comes to you. When they find you turned around, their first thought is to hug you from behind and crush you with their tall and heavy body( it's not you to fight back. They won't listen and just smirk at you).

"MEDICINE POCKET GET YOUR HEAVY ASS OFF ME"

"Nah, it's cute to see u like this"

Just imagine other scenarios like: They getting outside the bathroom after a hot shower wearing only a towel and catching you staring from afar. You're getting teased for this good luck.

"Ohh~ didn't expect my idiot to be a pervert and you aren't even trying to hide it" says MedPo while holding your chin, forcing you to look in their eyes.

"I just looked at you way for a sec I'm not a pervert" you try to fight back, avoiding looking a your lover's face but oh my they looked so gorgeous with their untied wet long hair and water drops falling on their slim body

"Whatever you say, would you like me to take off my towel as well to bless your eyes with my full beautiful body" MedPo hand leaves your chin now holding the edge of the towel warped around their hips

"Go ahead, smartass because if I recall correctly, there isn't supposed to be much to see under that towel"

"Ouch, you're such a meanie bullying your partner like this." After the dramatic act, they place a soft kiss on your lips and leave to get dressed pretending to be extremely hurt and pained by your words

Oh my, I forgot how tiring writing can be. I hope you enjoyed reading this. Btw English is not my first language if you find any mistakes pls let me know :]

#medicine pocket x reader #medpoc #medicine pocket #medicine pocket r1999 #rev1999 #reverse 1999 #r1999 x reader #Reverse1999 x reader #Reverse1999

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twilightkitkat · 5 months ago

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Hi, first of all, I want to tell you that I adore your stories and ideas, I love your content and you are one of my favorite Poolverine /Deadclaws writers ♥️♥️♥️♥️

1. I have a question, will you continue the story where the X-Men react to Logan and Wade's happy relationship, will you leave poor Logan alone? Or will they try to sabotage their relationship to get "their" Wolverine back and try (in vain) to fix things with him?

2. I would like to see the Avengers' reaction when they find out that Steve knows Logan, I have a feeling that knowing that he is no longer part of the X-Men, they would try to get him to join them, but Logan's answer would be a definitive NO, mainly because neither team wants Wade, Logan won't go anywhere without him, on the contrary, the two of them would show others what a real team is.

Thank you very much for your attention and I hope I have not made any mistakes in my writing 🥺♥️

Omg, thank you so much ♥️♥️♥️ it means a lot to know that people like my writing and that my blog has become one of your favorites.

I've been considering making a sequel to it with a different scenario and continuing to write about how the X-men adjust to this new Logan. While a few of them (Rogue and Colossus) know that Logan doesn't want to return and why, the rest would have a more difficult time accepting it.

I think that the X-men tend to view Logan's feelings as secondary and subconsciously look down on him. They treat themselves as more important and prioritize their feelings and perspectives over Logan's, which was reinforced in the movies. The best word to describe them is egocentric—they don't consciously think that they're above Logan and not all have high self-esteem, but they tend to have difficulties empathizing with him and seeing things from his perspective.

However, I don't think they're intentionally malicious. They wouldn't see what they're doing as "sabotage" because they want the best for Logan (in their eyes), but they would try to separate him from Wade to convince him that they're right. They'd see it as a necessary evil and think that there needs to be a divide because Wade has influenced him. However, in reality, they just feel uncomfortable seeing Logan act so close to Wade because it forces them to confront the way they treated him and how he never acted like that. They also aren't very receptive to change in their social order, and Logan breaking off is a pretty big one.

As for the Avengers' reaction, I think it'd be one of shock. Captain America isn't just the Poster Boy of America, he's the symbolic leader of the Avengers. He's this strong, moral, righteous figure who doesn't show weakness and always looks ahead. He opens up just enough to form an emotional connection with them, but he largely keeps his deeper feelings and doubts to himself.

So when Logan shows up and Steve acts less like a figurehead and more like a person, it's... uncanny. Not necessarily bad, but unnerving. They aren't used to seeing Steve relax and laugh and show genuine emotion. When the two reminisce on the past, Steve's face becomes clouded with nostalgia and regret, and when Logan places a hand on his shoulder Steve leans into it gratefully. He smiles and relaxes and the Avengers feel like they're seeing a new side of Steve, a glimpse into the scared and mortal soldier he was instead of the unstoppable hero he became.

Aside from Logan, they know about The Wolverine. They know about his feats and strengths and a few have worked alongside him in the past. He has an impressive resume, and if he hadn't been swept away by the X-men then the Avengers would've taken him in gladly.

Except now, he isn't part of the X-men. So the Avengers ask. It's a perfect fit, really. Logan is strong and capable and has a strong moral compass, he'd fit right in. Throw in the added bonus of being friends with Steve and being able to comfort him and it's a done deal.

Except... Logan refuses. Point blank.

The rest of the Avengers blink owlishly, but Steve gives an understanding smile and nod of the head. When they ask why, his answer drops their jaws even further.

"You rejected Wade, and he's my partner. I'm not joining any fucking team he's not a part of," Logan grumbles.

And that's how the Avengers find out that apparently, The Wolverine was partners with Deadpool. A few had heard rumors from the underground that The Wolverine had been doing vigilante work alongside Deadpool, but they'd thought it was a temporary thing. Something to repay his debt and occupy his time until he found another team. It makes sense that Logan didn't want to rejoin the X-men, he had a lot of history with them, but he shouldn't have an issue joining a better team. There's no way he'd be attached to Deadpool of all people, right?

But that was exactly the case. The Wolverine was apparently dedicated to spending the rest of his days in this universe by Deadpool's side. The tips of his ears turn red when he talks about Wade, and Steve has a knowing and private smile when he listens to him. (He'd anticipated this. How could he not, after meeting Wade and seeing how Logan looked at him like he was his whole world? It'd be nice to work with Logan again, but Steve was fine with settling for the occasional team-up. He wouldn't want to separate them.)

It's... a bit of a blow to the ego, to be honest. To know that The Wolverine chose Deadpool over them like it was obvious. That he didn't even think twice about their offer. To know that Logan thought someone they rejected was more valuable to work with than them.

They thought he was crazy until they saw the pair in action.

Witnessing the easy and impeccable teamwork between Logan and Wade was like watching lightning strike. The two moved with a fluidity the Avengers had never seen before, weaving in and out of each other's attacks like they were telepathically connected. Logan's strength balanced Wade's speed, and when Logan would slash Wade would shoot. They were terrifyingly fast and efficient, cutting through the enemies like butter.

It's in that moment that they understand why The Wolverine chose Deadpool over them. He was right in his choice.

#kitkat #poolverine #deadclaws #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool movie #wade x logan #wade/logan #asks

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scoonsalicious · 1 year ago

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Unwanted: Chapter 3, Unbidden - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, minor discussions of sex, drunk!Bucky, minor violence, FloRida's Low (that song slaps, okay?), minor anti-Winter Soldier sentiment, an unnecessary Ted Bundy reference just because. As always, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 4.1k

Previously On...: You and Bucky had a heart-to-heart after you came back from your mission with Steve, and Bucky asked a very interesting question about the nature of your relationship with the Star Spangled Man.

A/N: I just finished writing Chapter 9 ahead of schedule, so here is Chapter 3 a little bit earlier than I planned on posting it! Consider it in honor of Sergeant Barnes' 107th Birthday! This is my favorite chapter; I had so much fun writing it, this part in particular (even though it took me a million tries before I got it to where I wanted it). Sam is finally given some page time, and I adore him, so I hope I've captured his essence sufficiently. I sort of love writing drunk!Bucky. Part three is where things are going to take an interesting turn for Bucky and Pocket so I'm looking forward to posting that soon!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @jmeelee @cazellen

Slapping your American Express Black Card onto the polished mahogany bar, you made sure the bartender was giving you his full attention. "Everything my group orders tonight goes on my tab, got it?" you told him. "If Tony Stark tries to pay for a single thing, tell him it's already covered and if he has a problem with it, he can take it up with me." The bartender nodded, taking your card and depositing it with the other open tabs behind the bar. It was going to be a very lucrative night for the bar.

You'd all come to Gino's, a downtown dive of place you all loved, to celebrate Bucky's clearance for missions. As a part of his presidential pardon for the Winter Soldier's crimes (completely unnecessary, in your opinion, because Bucky hadn’t been the one to commit them), he had been required to undertake 12 months of court-mandated therapy, and now that he had ten months under his belt, his therapist had signed her approval for Bucky to engage in real Avenger work, provided he was accompanied by another member of the team at all times for supervision. He'd be leaving tomorrow for a classified location with Steve and Sam; they'd be gone for about a week, so you'd wanted to commemorate the event and leave him with some positive memories before he left.

You rejoined your group in the far back, where you'd commandeered the largest corner booth and the surrounding tables. "Tonight's on me," you declared as you approached, "so drink up and eat well." Your friends cheered their thanks; Thor even banged his giant fist against the table in appreciation. You did a mock curtsey before coming to stand behind Bucky where he sat, draping your arms around his neck and shoulders and bringing your head down alongside his.

"Having a good time?" you asked him.

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, leaning back into your touch. "With you by my side? Always," he replied, his voice laced with affection. "But you didn't have to do this, doll. Pay for everything, I mean. We could have all gotten our own."

Letting go of his shoulders, you moved around to sit next to him. "Bullshit. My best friend is going on his first Avengers mission, this is the least I can do."

"Listen, man," said Sam Wilson, also known as The Falcon and, if you were being completely honest, one of your favorite teammates after Bucky, "I know things might have been different when you were younger, but in the 21st Century, when a lady offers to buy you drinks, the polite thing to do is just say 'thank you' and get hammered."

Bucky laughed and chugged down the beer he'd been previously nursing and took the bourbon you'd brought over for him from the bar. "Thank you, Pocket. Though, I don't think I'll be getting... hammered on anything here."

"You're most welcome, Buck," you said, patting his cheek, the stubble tickling at your palm. "But if you are looking to get hammered, I believe our resident God of Thunder has brought a little something extra you could sip on in between beers." You nodded your head toward Thor, who sat a few seats down, pouring a splash of Asgardian something from a flask into Steve's tumbler.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so? Maybe I'll take him up on that." The super soldier got up and, squeezing your hand, made his way over to Thor, who gladly poured a generous splash of spirits into Bucky's glass of bourbon.

You watched him for a moment as he sat and drank with Steve and Thor, a warm feeling building in your chest at the sight of him looking and doing so well. He'd made so much progress since he first arrived at the Tower and you were unbelievably proud of him.

"You've been good for him, Pocket," Sam offered with a raise of his glass. "But I gotta know, when are you two gonna stop tip-toeing around each other and make things official?"

You let out an agonized groan. "Not you, too, Sam. Why don't you and Natty get together and write some fanfic about it? That's about as close to reality as it'll get."

"What are Wilson and I collaborating to write smutty fanfiction about?" Natasha asked as she sat down in Bucky's vacated seat, passing you a shot glass.

"Za nashu druzhbu!" You toasted in unison before downing the sweet liquid. To our friendship!

"A Redheaded Slut shot? How very Natasha," you teased.

"Don't try to change the subject," Sam interjected. "Romanoff: (Y/L/N) and Barnes. They go together like Netflix and chill or what?"

Natasha's eyes lit up. "Absolutely! Oh my God; I'm so glad you see it, too. They're just screaming 'Let's fuck already,' right?!"

"I don't know that they haven't started already," Sam said, obviously pleased to finally have someone to talk about this with. "I've never seen Metalhead as content as when he's with Pocket. Figure she's gotta be doing something to keep a smile on his face, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows, setting Natasha off into a barking laugh.

"Jesus Christ, Sam!" you sputtered. "I'm sitting right fucking here!"

Sam gave you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Baby Girl. 'M just calling it like I see it. And with you and Barnes, I see it."

"She's going to stick to the story that nothing's going on between them," Nat began.

"Because there is nothing going on between us," you interrupted.

"But I think we all know something is brewing between those two," she continued, as if you hadn't said a thing. "I mean, do you really think they're just sleeping in the same bed every night?"

"Hold up, hold up." Sam raised his hand to stop Nat. "You're telling me those two share a bed? How long has this been going on and why am I just hearing about it now?"

"Oh my god," you said, putting your head in your hands and wishing the floor would open up and suck you into a hell dimension. It had to be better than sitting here listening to the two of them talk as if weren't in the room.

"You didn't know?!" Nat's expression was incredulous. "Essentially since the moment Barnes moved into the Tower. They alternate whose bed they sleep in, but it's literally every. single. night."

"That's it," you murmured, though you were sure they weren't paying you any attention, "I am never telling you another thing, ever, Natalia." They weren't embarrassing you, per se. You felt no shame about your closeness with Bucky. It was more that you hated that they were making assumptions about him. You could take ones made about you; you'd been doing that your entire life, but Bucky was different. He was... fragile wasn't the right word, but it came close. You wanted to protect him from everything negative, including your friends gossiping about his alleged sex life.

"Guys, please," you said, loud enough to catch their attention. "I know that, whatever I say, it's not going to convince you that I'm telling you the truth, but I don't want Bucky to hear it, okay? You're just going to make him uncomfortable and he'll retreat into himself, close up. So, save it for when you're by yourselves, alright?"

The sincerity in your words caused Sam and Nat's gazes to soften as they looked at you. You hoped that, despite their ribbing, they understood that your concern for your shared friend was genuine, and that, of the three of you sitting at the table, you knew Bucky best.

"Alright," said Sam, "I'll drop it. For now. But know I've got my eye on you, Pocket." He gave you a shrewd look. "Don't think you can keep your secret from Ole Sammy forever."

You shook your head, annoyingly amused.

The evening moved on pleasantly: conversation and alcohol flowed, and you felt yourself loosening up as the shots you'd drank with Natasha worked their way through your system until you were sporting a pleasant buzz. Bucky eventually came back to join you at your table, eyes glassy and with a giant, dopey grin plastered across his face.

"How's that Asgardian liquor treating you, Buckaroo?" you asked him with a grin of your own, knowing full well he was sauced.

"'s real good, Pocket," he slurred, propping his head on his fist and gazing at you with a dreamy expression. "'s nice and tingly, like the sun is shining on my insides."

"I'm happy for you, Buck," you said with a laugh, shooting an amused glance over Bucky's head to Nat, who responded with a smirk of her own. "That's real good."

He put his arms around you and pulled you into him, almost tugging you off of your chair in the process. "No! You're real good. Sho good to me, all warm and fuzzy and pretty. Just wanna keep touchin' you, you know? 'Cause you make me think of happy things." He paused to nuzzle his face into your hair. "You're m'favorite person."

"You're my favorite person, too, Buck," you said, stifling a giggle, amused by this new soft, silly side of him.

"Me?" he squeaked--actually squeaked. You nodded and then let out a surprised squeal as he pulled you into his lap, holding you almost tight enough to be uncomfortable, his metal arm clinging you to his chest. But then he pulled his head back to look you in the eye, his face suddenly serious.

He slurred, leaning in closer. You could smell the sweet scent of the Asgardian liquor on his breath. "Don'tcha dare tell Stevie, though, doll" he hiccupped, "'cause he'd be real put out if he found out I was your fav'rite."

"Well, then we won't tell him," you assured him, casting a bewildered glance to Nat. She subtly shook her head, as if to say she was just as confused as you as to why Steve would care if Bucky was your favorite person.

Bucky nodded solemnly. "Good. Don't want 'im feelin' bad, but 'm not sorry. 'S not my fault, either. He had ages and he didn't do nuthin'. That's on 'im. Not on me, not on you. On 'im." He began petting your hair in long strokes, seemingly distracted by the feel of it and losing his original train of thought. "Mmmm, you're so pretty. M'pretty little Pocket."

"Why, thank you, my handsome soldier," you replied, tapping him playfully on the nose while wondering what the hell he had been going on about concerning Steve. You hoped he wasn't so drunk that he didn't remember this conversation in the morning, because you were going to press the shit out of him for details.

Oh, but then... the next song from the jukebox caught your attention, and you looked up as the opening bars of Flo Rida's Low filled the air.

"Oh no," moaned Nat with a trace of laughter. "You're gonna dance, aren't you?"

A broad grin broke across your face. You loved dancing to anything, but this song was your kryptonite. "I can't help it," you told her, "it calls me, I come. Let's go!" You stood up, taking Bucky's hand and trying to pull him along with you, but the super soldier just shook his head and refused to move. Apparently he wasn't that drunk. "Fine. Sam, Nat, dance with me."

"I'm coming, Baby Girl," Sam said, taking Nat's hand and dragging her to meet you.

As soon as you had the space, you began to move, the music pulsing through your veins, syncing perfectly with your heartbeat. You swayed your hips in time with the infectious rhythm, your body moving effortlessly to the beat.

You felt Sam come up behind you, placing his hands on your hips as he began to dance with you, bass thumping in your chests. You and Sam had danced together countless times before; he was one of the only ones in the Tower who enjoyed dancing as much as you did, so the two of you had had plenty of practice moving together. Your movements may have been completely innocent, but they gave the appearance of something much more intimate-- it was just the nature of the dance. You could feel the heat of Sam's body pressed against your back, the way his hands gripped your hips protectively. It was all in good fun, a playful dance between friends, until you felt Sam's hands fly from your waist as you were about to get low.

You spun around, finding Bucky standing where Sam had been just a few seconds before, Sam now several feet away, anger wearing heavy on his face.

"What the hell, man?" Sam barked at Bucky. "What'd you shove me for?"

Bucky, his face flushed and eyes narrowed with a combination of intoxication and something dark, took a step towards Sam. "Didn't shove ya, Wilson," he slurred, his words blending together. "Ya just...got in the way."

"Got in the way? Man, we were just dancing. How was I in your way?"

Bucky's jaw clenched, his metal arm flexing by his side. The atmosphere shifted, thick with tension, as if the air in the room had suddenly turned molasses-slow.

"Okay, boys." You stepped between them, hands down and palms open, trying to create as much distance between the two as possible. The last thing you wanted was a drunken argument devolving into some kind of brawl. "It's getting late, and we've all had a good amount to drink." You gave Sam a pointed glance. "Bucky, will you take me home to the Tower? I'm pretty tired and I think I'm ready to call it a night."

Sam nodded in understanding-- it would be a hell of a lot easier to get Bucky home in his current state if he thought he was escorting you, instead of the other way around.

"Yeah, 'course, Pocket," Bucky said, his eyes softening as he looked at you. You were able to call out your goodnights to the rest of the team and, leaving instructions with Nat to close out your tab at the end of the night, began making your way to the door. Bucky stumbled a bit, his balance compromised by the alcohol in his system. You wrapped an arm around him, steadying him as you both made your way outside.

Outside the bar, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the noisy atmosphere inside. Bucky leaned heavily against you, his arm draped around your shoulders for support.

"Fuck, Barnes. You're heavy," you groaned under his weight.

"Fuck me, Pocket," he slurred, head tilting to the side. There was that look in his eyes again. The same one you'd seen the day he'd gotten his new arm. You couldn't identify it, but it made the hair on your arms stand up straight.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I said." You could feel his warmth seeping through your clothes, his presence comforting even in his intoxicated state.

"You good to stand on your own for a second, soldier?" you asked him. "I need to hail us a cab."

Bucky nodded and you carefully eased yourself out from under his arm, scanning the street for a taxi. The bustling city night was alive with lights and sounds, creating a tapestry of urban energy that seemed to match the frequency of the electricity that ran through your brain.

God, did you love this city.

As you raised your hand to flag down a cab, you couldn't help but steal glances at Bucky, his hair in disarray, falling into his eyes and his lips slightly parted as he breathed in the cool night air. Even drunk and disheveled, he still looked so handsome. There was a softness to him in the moment that made him look younger, and for a second, you could imagine that beautiful, carefree young man who had been drafted to cross the sea to fight someone else's war, and had paid for it with even more than his life.

A taxi screeched to a stop in front of you, interrupting your reverie. You hurriedly opened the door and helped Bucky inside, sliding in beside him. The cab driver gave you both a curious glance before pulling away from the curb. Once you gave him the address to Avengers Tower, that look got more and more frequent as he kept checking his rear view mirror.

"Hey, eyes on the road, buddy," you snapped at him, probably putting more aggression into your voice than you had intended, but the way the cab driver was looking at the two of you made you uneasy.

The ride back to the Tower was quiet, the low hum of the taxi's engine serving as a backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Bucky slumped against you, his head resting on your shoulder as he dozed off. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it against your skin. The city lights blurred past outside the window, casting a hazy glow over both of you.

"Listen," the cabbie eventually began in his thick New Jersey accent, "sweetheart, ya seem like a nice girl, but I don't think ya know what you're dealin' with, here. That man right there's the Winter Soldier. He's a murderer, a nasty one. The kind that likes to take a sweet thing like you and do horrible things."

You rolled your eyes. If they were going to keep telling stories about the Winter Soldier, the least they could do was get the details right instead of making him sound like Ted Fucking Bundy.

"This nasty murderer is my best friend," you said, each word clipped and infused with the anger you felt on Bucky's behalf. "So, maybe you should stick with getting us to our destination instead of trying to lecture me on something you know absolutely nothing about."

The cabbie fell silent, his eyes darting nervously between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. You could tell that he was regretting his decision to say anything, realizing that he had struck a nerve. Or, you thought with an amused chuckle, afraid that you were just as nasty as the Winter Soldier. But you couldn't blame him entirely. The reputation of the Winter Soldier was notorious, and it was only natural for people to be cautious. You just wished they knew the name Bucky Barnes, and the actual man, himself, just as well.

You sighed and shifted your gaze to Bucky, still unconscious against your shoulder. It wasn't fair, you thought, how people judged him solely based on his past. Yes, there were dark chapters in his history, but he had fought tooth and nail to regain control over his life. He had redeemed himself in countless ways even before he had officially joined the Avengers.

As the taxi approached Avengers Tower, you leaned over and gently shook Bucky awake. His eyes fluttered open, confusion etched in his features for a brief moment before recognition set in.

"We're home, Buck," you whispered softly, trying to soothe away any lingering unease from your brief conversation with the cab driver. "Let's get you upstairs." You threw a handful of bills in the cabbie's direction, not even bothering to wait for him to give you your change; you just wanted out of his cab and away from his prejudice.

Bucky nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. With your help, he stumbled out of the taxi and leaned on you for support as you made your way into the building.

"'m sorry 'bout that, doll," he drawled as you passed the security desk, sending a quick wave to the night guard.

"Sorry for what, Buck?" you asked him. He was silent as you made your way to the elevator bay, waiting until you had pressed the button to summon the elevator car.

"'bout the cabbie." He avoided looking at you while you waited, and it was like a punch to your gut-- he'd heard everything that ignorant man had said. The elevator doors dinged open and you helped usher him inside.

You took a deep breath as you pressed the button for your floor, the retinal scanner making quick work to prove your identity and verify your security clearance. "Buck," you exhaled, "you have nothing to apologize for. That man was an asshole and an idiot."

Bucky leaned back against the elevator wall, his head thumping against the cool metal. "But he was right. I am a nasty murderer."

You could scream. You could strangle that cabbie with your bare hands. Bucky had been doing so well, had been having such a good night, and one person's careless remark had ruined all of it.

"Barnes," you said, turning to face him. "Look at me. Do you think I'm stupid?"

His eyes grew wide at the insinuation, even in his drunk state, he was with it enough to be taken aback by your question. "'bsolutely not, doll. You're the smartest person I know. Smarter than Stark, even, 'cause you can admit when your wrong." The compliment left you trying to hide a smile.

"Okay. Do you trust my judgment?"

"With my life," he breathed. The elevator opened to your floor, and you helped Bucky out into the hall and down the corridor toward his room. The soft glow of the hallway lights illuminated his features, casting a warm, intimate aura around the two of you.

"So, if I'm not stupid and you trust my judgment, trust me when I tell you are not what that man says you are. You are a good man who had too many horrible things happen to him. And despite all those horrible things, you are still the kindest, funniest, most gentle man that I know."

As you reached his door, Bucky turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "Thank you, Pocket. Thank you for taking care of me, and for being my friend," he murmured, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and emotion.

A small smile played on your lips. "Always, Buck," you replied softly. "Now let's get you inside."

With a gentle push, you opened the door to his room and guided him over to his bed. Bucky collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, his body sinking into the softness beneath him. Once you'd pulled off his boots, you knelt down beside him, tucking the blanket around his shoulders.

As you straightened up, Bucky reached out and grabbed your hand, his grip surprisingly strong despite his intoxicated state. His gaze locked with yours, a mix of vulnerability and longing flickering in his eyes.

"I don't want you to leave," he whispered, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

"I'm just going to hop over to my room to change into pajamas," you assured him. "I'll be right back. Promise." You smoothed his hair, trying to tame it from where it stood up in all directions.

"'kay," he said through a yawn, "but don't take too long. I got somethin' I need to tell ya. 's important."

"Okay," you told him, planting a kiss on his head. "I'll be just a minute." You hurried across the hall to your own room, changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth in record time.

Re-entering Bucky's room, you were extremely curious as to what he'd wanted to say to you. "Alright, Buckaroo, I'm back. What did you--"

You smiled to yourself. Bucky was fast asleep, light snores emanating from him as he lay sprawled across the bed. You couldn't help but find him adorable in his slumber, especially with his hair sticking up in all directions.

With a soft sigh, you walked over to the side of the bed and gently sat down, watching Bucky's peaceful face. It was moments like these that reminded you of how much he had been through, how much pain and loss he had experienced. Despite his tough exterior, there was a vulnerability about him that tugged at your heartstrings.

You leaned in closer, unable to resist the urge to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. Your fingers lingered on his skin for a moment longer than necessary, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The desire to protect and comfort him overwhelmed you, making your heart ache with affection, and something else that you couldn't quite identify.

Pulling down the covers, you climbed into bed next to him, snuggling up to his body for warmth. He grunted and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. It wasn't long before you drifted off into a slumber of your own.

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