#because I’m too tired to read the instruction manual

[xwildwhirlx]

my new electric toothbrush: *starts buzzing as soon as I turn it on*

me:

toothbrush: *continues buzzing ominously*

me, knowing I have to use it:

toothbrush: *VIBRATES VIOLENTLY WITHIN MY SKULL*

me:

toothbrush: *CONTINUES VIBRATING DESPITE MY DESPERATE ATTEMPTS TO TURN IT OFF*

me:

[heechwe]

three men & a crib | 𝖕𝖘𝖍

୨୧ pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 1.2k ୨୧ genre: fluff, comedy ୨୧ tags: established relationship, soontobedad!sunghoon, married!au, pregnant!reader. ୨୧ synopsis: Sunghoon is wasting time not building the furniture in the nursery, mainly the terrifyingly intricate crib his pregnant wife ordered. What else can he do besides call Jake and Jay to help him?

How did he end up in this situation? Sunghoon is staring down the cardboard box in his living room, armed with a handful of tools and an instruction manual that might as well have been written in an alien language.

“I can do it when I get home from the shower,” you told him two hours ago, pouting at the fact the crib still had yet to be constructed. The baby would be arriving in less than three months and there was still so much of the nursery that needed to be completed. The main piece being the place your child was meant to sleep.

Sunghoon shrugged off the idea. No way were you going to try building furniture when you should be focusing solely on relaxing. Your belly was too swollen at this point for Sunghoon to let you even carry in a heavy bag of groceries without assistance. What kind of husband would he be if he let you do manual labor in your condition?

“No, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead with reassurance. “I promise to finish it. Just focus on having fun today and when you get home it’ll all be done, you’ll see.”

With a sigh and a kiss to his lips, you were off with your mother to your baby shower. Heeseung’s wife Yunjin organized the entire day for you, and Sunghoon wouldn’t let something as simple as a piece of infant furniture get in the way of your good time.

But now, staring down the dismantled pieces of the crib, he’s starting to grow anxious at the thought of you coming home to his empty promises and utter disappointment. He reads over the first step of the instructions again, and the words practically bleed over and into each other on the page. Admittedly, Sunghoon was not well-versed in carpentry, but surely it shouldn’t be this hard to understand.

Whatever he has to do to figure it out, he won’t let you down. And he won’t look like an incompetent father because of some measly, complex instructions.

So, he does the next best thing he can: he calls in backup.

Jake and Jay sit next to Sunghoon on the living room floor, looking over the parts of the crib that they’ve agreed go together first and have to be constructed in the proper order. 

After forty-five minutes of assembly, the three men feel an acceptable amount of confidence they completed the crib.

Except for the fact there’s a random piece of wood sticking out in the center of the crib itself.

“I’m telling you the directions said that that was supposed to go there,” Jay insists, skimming the manual.

Sunghoon groans. “Tell me exactly Jay what the fuck that is supposed to do.” He emphasizes his argument by pointing directly at the block of wood in the middle of the crib.

“I don’t know, man, to keep the baby from moving?” Jay retorts.

“Okay, let’s just start over,” Jake says to both men, tired of their bickering already.

Just when the men think they’re getting somewhere, they read the next line of instructions and feel like idiots for putting this piece of wood with that screw.

“This might as well have been written in ancient Egyptian, man. Why did she have to buy the most annoying crib in existence?” Jay grumbles and flips through the manual again.

“She said it comes with a lot of safety features,” Sunghoon answers, taking apart the two pieces of wood that Jake put together initially. Sunghoon wishes he could go back in time and stop you from buying it in the first place. Of course he also wanted the best for your child, but did the damn bed need to come with so many bells and whistles for all of this hassle?

By the time Sunghoon dismantles the pieces and puts them back in an organized pile on the floor, Jake looks ready to give up and raid the fridge.

“We could just find the model online and order it assembled,” Jake suggests. A yawn leaves his lips, already fatigued at the minimal effort he put in.

“And say what to my wife?” Sunghoon asks with a scoff. “That I was too stupid to make it without help?”

Jay and Jake look at Sunghoon without a word, their stares saying enough.

“You know what I mean, assholes.” Sunghoon looks at the instructions over Jay’s shoulder again and grunts. “We are three strong and capable men. We can do this!”

Less than an hour later, Jake is on the manufacturer’s website. Thankfully, the model number was written in bold font on the front of the manual. And even better, crib assembly and one-day delivery is only an extra hundred dollars.

“I’ll name the next kid after you, man.” Sunghoon pats Jake on the back as the older one puts his card information into the order.

“Whatever. Just don’t expect me to not spill the beans if your wife asks me about this.”

Jay chuckles and helps Sunghoon put the pieces of the original crib back in the cardboard packaging.

Three hours later, two delivery guys come up the elevator with the crib to bring into Sunghoon’s apartment. It fits with the rest of the nursery, the color of the wood matching well with the decorations you had already put up for the baby’s arrival.

You walk into the apartment later in the day to find Sunghoon sitting at the couch waiting for you. You smile at him and immediately snuggle in close to his chest.

“How was the shower?” Sunghoon kisses the crown of your head as his hand runs across the center of your stomach. His warmth immediately calms you after the long day of greeting family and friends.

“Fun, but a lot. By the third hour I was over talking about breastfeeding.”

Sunghoon chuckles and kisses your cheek. Even now, after four years of marriage and a baby on the way, he still managed to make you feel like the same lovesick teenager you were when you first met. The feeling sank deep into your bones and made you even more sure that you picked the right person to spend forever with.

“Thank you for putting the crib together,” you say. You squeeze the hand that’s on your stomach with your own. “We appreciate you so much.”

Sunghoon smiles earnestly and kisses you on the lips. “And I appreciate you. None of this would be possible without you, you know.”

You grin. “Likewise.”

When you wake in the middle of the night later on, waddling to the nursery and admiring the quality of the crib, you chuckle quietly to yourself.

Sunghoon was completely unaware of how cute he looked in the Ring camera helping the delivery guys bring in the assembled crib. He also had no idea that you had watched from the comfort of Heeseung’s couch as the gentlemen, with Jake and Jay in tow, all shuffled into the apartment hours ago with the second crib.

Maybe the biggest lesson of parenthood was that sometimes it was better to work smarter and not harder. And regardless, Sunghoon would do anything to make sure you and your child were happy. What more could you ask for?

[mmmichyyy]

late night drive

hi, here's 1.4k words of hurt/comfort between soft husbands 🖤

“Hey.” A soft hand touches Ian’s shoulder from the back and he jumps from the sudden contact. “Let’s go for a drive.” 

Ian’s not sure how long he’s been sitting on the couch in front of the muted TV screen. The clock on the wall reads 2:24am. Ian slowly turns around, unable to make out his husband’s face clearly in the dark. 

“Mick.” His voice is scratchy. Thick. Forced. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.” 

The light from the TV casts long shadows in the living room. Ian shuts his eyes closed and curls his body deeper into the couch. Eyes closed, yes, but he can’t sleep, not when his mind is drifting too far for him to grasp, his heart beating a mile a minute. Blank, yet bright, blinding, vibrating. Running, racing, lifting up, up, up–

Maybe if he wedges his body in between the cushions, the couch can swallow him whole.

Through the darkened depths of his mind, he hears the sound of feet padding on the hardwood floor. A familiar, comforting sound. It’s only the two of them in the apartment, but Mickey always had a distinct way of walking, a particular rhythm to his movements that Ian had grown attuned to. Or maybe because Ian grew up in a full house and he learned how to tell by ear which of his siblings were coming up the stairs or pacing around the house without seeing who it was.

Something is thrown at him. His jacket, he thinks. The sound of car keys jingle in his ear. A hand, momentarily brushing against his own, before letting go, guiding him up, up, up–

Then suddenly he’s in the passenger seat of their car, Mickey’s in the driver’s seat, and they’re cruising into the night.

The windows are rolled down and the radio is on at a low volume, but it’s dead static to Ian’s ears. Mickey isn’t saying anything and Ian can’t bring himself to speak without guilt rising up his throat like bile, coating his mouth with a bitter taste. So he doesn’t. Not yet.

Streets after stretches of roads blend together like a blur. No final destination, nowhere to go. The stars are barely visible in the night sky. A ghost town at three in the morning, only to be revived and burst into life a mere couple hours later. 

Ian fights the urge to open the door and jump out of the moving car. Tuck and roll onto the pavement. Mickey is barely going above the speed limit - which is very unlike how his husband usually drives - so what’s the worst that can happen? A couple of scrapes and bruises? Once an intrusive thought plants a seed in his mind, he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop dwelling on it, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself he’s not going to do it. He’s not going to, he’s not, but he kind wants to, just to see what would happen. How Mickey would react. How he himself would react. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know.

Because he doesn’t feel like himself. He hasn’t felt like himself in a while, and in retrospect maybe he should’ve spotted the symptoms sooner. The thing is, not every episode feels the same each time. There aren’t always obvious warning signs he can pinpoint until he’s deep in the throes of it, no exact manual with clear step-by-step instructions he can follow. How many times does he have to go through this before it gets easier? Simpler? Less of a burden to those around him?

The psychiatrist told him to wait it out. Keep taking his current meds, monitor his symptoms for a week, see if he can balance out on his own. And if he doesn’t, then he can come into the clinic for a meds adjustment. 

So Ian waits. Waits for slumber to eventually overtake him, caressing him into a quiet dream. But the relief never comes. 

Being tired yet unable to sleep is another form of torture. Similar to having so much energy to spend, yet not wanting to do anything at all. The worst is not wanting anyone to touch him in the slightest, not even his own fucking husband, no matter how much he misses holding Mickey in their bed as they fall asleep together. 

What really kills him is how patient Mickey is. How willing Mickey is to fight for him. Through the ups and downs, the highs and lows. If Mickey is in any way angry or annoyed or at his own breaking point, he doesn't let his frustrations show in front of Ian.

Everything at the moment feels like a contradiction to Ian - what his mind craves versus what his body is able to withstand. Long gone are the days of his youth when he would ride the mania wave to the fullest extent, drugs and alcohol and anonymous sex with strangers in back alleys. Temporary and fleeting pleasures, escapism at its finest. But he’s not that person anymore. He hasn't been that person for a long time. He’s grown up now, wiser, more mature, more experienced, more controlled, and married to the love of his goddamn life. 

Doesn’t mean it gets any easier, though.

“Did I ever tell you how I almost ran away from home when I was sixteen?” 

Ian turns to face Mickey. Shakes his head slightly.

“I just got my driver's license, but I had already been driving since I was twelve,” Mickey continues, staring straight ahead. “My uncle owned a garage and taught me and my brothers how to drive. Had to start us off young, go on runs across state lines and shit. Iggy always made fun of me ‘cause my legs barely reached the pedal.”

Ian’s eyes linger on Mickey’s silhouette.

“Anyway, Terry came home one night, drunk out of his fuckin’ mind, taking a swing at anyone who was in his way. Guess I was the unlucky bastard who happened to be home. He basically used me like a punching bag. Gave me two broken ribs and a swollen face before one of my brothers came home and dragged him off me. Can’t remember who. Probably would’ve passed out cold if he got a couple more kicks in.” 

A slow ache creeps into Ian’s chest.

“Took me a couple of weeks to fully recover. When I could finally walk again, all I could think about was stealing a car from my uncle and getting the fuck outta the Southside. Just wanted to keep driving and driving, somewhere far away where I can be on my own and finally be free, y’know?”

“Why didn’t you,” Ian whispers, voice quiet and raspy.

Mickey shrugs. “I came to my senses. It was a pipe dream. I knew wherever I went, Terry would somehow find me. And I couldn’t leave Mandy alone in that house.” He lets out a humourless laugh. “But it’s not like I did such a bang-up job protecting her, anyway.”

“You did the best you could, Mick,” Ian says quietly. “Your dad was a monster. That’s not on you.”

Mickey shifts slightly in his seat, eyes remaining fixed on the empty road ahead.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I guess so.” 

Ian wishes he had more to say, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Instead, he crosses his arms across his chest and absorbs the cool breeze on his skin, pushing away all thoughts of reaching for the door handle.

“There was another reason why I stayed.” 

Ian swallows down a lump in his throat.

“Why?”

A small smile appears on Mickey’s face, lit up by the passing street lights.

“I found someone worth stickin’ around for,” he says simply.

For the first time in days Ian initiates the first touch, reaching out his hand tentatively then naturally intertwining his fingers with Mickey’s over the center console, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. 

“I’m sorry,” Ian mumbles. “I wish… I wish I had more to say, but…”

Mickey brushes his thumb over Ian’s knuckles before lifting both their hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on Ian’s skin. 

“It’s okay, Ian. We’ll get through this. We always do.”

The ache in Ian’s chest subsides over time and a blanket of calm drapes over his body. They continue to drive and drive and drive until the sun comes up and Ian finally drifts off to sleep, still holding Mickey’s hand close to his heart.

[blorbologist]

Cat's Cradle, Chapter 14

Ch1 ... Ch13

The kittens, now old enough to go without food for a little more time, are somehow even more of a torment on Percy’s nerves than they were before. 

“Vex!” he calls, shrill. “We have fugitives!”

“They’ve started learning to walk, Percy,” she tosses back. From the kitchen, given how she echoes. “Of course they’ve escaped. They can’t get far.”

“Velcro was in the middle of the floor!”

He does not have to hear her sigh to know she makes it. He assumes she pads down the hall, slips over the babygate silent as ever, because she appears in the doorway. Finds him sitting on the floor with his convict in his lap, the tiny blue tom wiggling viciously as he tries to resume his grand exploration of the room. 

Percy, in turn, is greeted with Vex in an apron. Which is half of why he avoided cooking with her to instead give the kittens supper, because good gods is it a cute look on her. The kiss the chef reads like an invitation, or an instruction manual. A recipe for disaster. 

“We’ll need a box,” he declares around the lump in his throat, plopping Velcro back in the basket. Or trying to - the kitten clings, wailing in outrage, until Percival relents and lets it sit in the crook of his leg. Corralled, for now. 

“Or a playpen,” Vex muses, tapping the spatula to her lips. Her eyes flit to something, not Percy but past him, and she grins. “I’ll leave you to figure that out yourself. I’m sure you can manage, my clever man.”

She leaves him fumbling long enough for Velcro and Spanner to stumble out and mewl in surprise at how cool the floor is. 

--

With a soft playpen set up, Percy feels a lot better about leaving the kittens unsupervised, even if only for short bursts. 

Such as an impromptu brunch with friends. It is a rare stroke of luck, for time off to line up so adeptly. Perhaps easier, without Vax’ildan’s graveyard shifts leaving him dead tired all day or Keyleth’s numerous projects tripping her up. Emptier, too.

“Okay,” Scanlan is saying, sipping loudly on a mimosa. “But you’re sure it’s alright? Kaylie says she hasn’t seen your truck at the workshop in, like, a week.”

“You have your daughter spying on him? Creepy.” Grog makes a show of scoffing, shoveling pancakes into his mouth. Despite the attention on him, he makes to swipe the french toast off Pike’s plate before she dissarms him with her own fork. 

“No - she’s just invested, alright? Won’t stop talking about that shitty day.” Scanlan shivers. “Not that I blame her - I’d be pretty fucked up, too.”

Pike hums in agreement. “Is the cat doing okay? You said her name was…?”

“Curio.” Percy takes a bracing sip of his coffee. “Recovering well from the surgery, seems eager to get out of her crate and stretch her legs. Those she has left, at least. I worry she will ruin the stitching if given that freedom, however.”

“Oy, here’s a thought-” “Manners.” Scanlan rolls his eyes, finishes chewing and swallows before continuing: ”Why don’t we stop by? I mean, you and Vex won’t shut up about these guys, and I don’t know about you guys but I could use some cute in my life. And chicks dig kitten pics.”

Percy hesitates.

So far, these kittens have been theirs. Vex’ahlia and Percival’s little charges, in their own little world. Sure, they had brought them to the vet, and Kaylie’s keen eye had saved Curio’s life. They certainly shared more than enough pictures and videos for all their friends to know many kittens by name. 

But there is something about inviting others into this little nest that has a part of him bristling.

Grog tilts his head. “I’d like to,” he admits. “Wouldn’t it be good for them to, like, meet more people? Help them get more specialized.”

“Socialized, Grog.” Pike pats his knee. 

Percy nudges Vex, who has been slipping into a food coma. She’s so exhausted it pains him to see. “Vex’ahlia, dear, what do you think?”

She stifles a yawn against her hand. “I don’t mind either way,” she admits. “If you guys do come over, though, keep it down - I think I’ll be having a nap, if that’s alright.”

Even the goliath of a man, all tattoos and muscle, seems to read the reluctance in Percy’s gaze. “I’ll be gentle with them,” he promises. “I can be real gentle with the little things.”

Percy sighs. Smiles. “That’s true, yes.” 

--

“When we said little, I didn’t think - woah,” Grog breathes, eyes blown wide and enraptured by every little hair on the kittens’ heads. He and Pike are both on their knees peering into the playpen. Bleary from their nap, the litter is content to wiggle and chirp. Even the one in Scanlan’s hands is well-behaved.

“Hah! Look - he’s spitting at me.”

Or perhaps not, but that’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to Scanlan. 

“She,” Percy corrects with a glance. 

“Ohh, I like them spicy.” He only evades getting an elbow in the gut when Pike stops herself, clearly remembering the precious cargo he holds. 

Having Scanlan for scale really puts into perspective just how small these kittens are - even in his hands they’re fragile, even without a tremor beneath them they wobble. Percy’s heart lurches in his chest when they move - but no, Scanlan’s just sitting more comfortably, with his back to the bed. 

He offers a finger from his free hand for greeting. The verdict is ‘disgusting, I hate it’ until he scratches under that impossibly small chin. “What a cutie patootie. What’s her name?” asks Scanlan.

Pike, peering now over his shoulder, glances between Percy and the kitten. “That’s Bauble, right?” She beams when he nods, pleased they remembered. 

“You can hold one, if you’d like,” Percy offers as Scanlan declares, “I’m gonna get Kaylie a kitten.”

“No - no, you’re not.” He swallows his snappy tone - half the kittens are sleeping, and so is Vex. “You can’t just give someone a lifelong commitment.”

Grog giggles - all head turn to find he’s stuck his hand in the playpen, where a curious Ratchet is clumsily batting at it while Screwdriver watches wide-eyed and hopelessly confused. 

“Ain’t that what happened to you?” says Grog. “With Kaylie?”

Scanlan rolls his eyes. “I was joking. Wasn’t I?” He rubs his nose into Bauble’s fur. “Oh, wow, she smells like cuteness! And kind of milky?”

Percy relaxes a little as Pike leans over to get a good sniff of kittendown too, scooting into Scanlan’s side for a better angle to coo and cuddle. 

That does bring up a thought he’s completely neglected up to date. The kittens are… goodness, not quite two weeks? Two more months and they’ll be old enough to adopt out. How in the hells is he going to find enough homes - good homes - for six kittens? And Curio, too. If matching a half-dozen cute, playful little cats will be a challenge, how will they possibly get someone willing to take on a disabled, probably traumatized adult cat? 

He can practically feel his blood pressure spike. Percy carefully leans over the edge of the playpen to pluck Screwdriver (still watching Grog’s hand with something like awe) and settle her in his lap. His hands are shaking, but so is she, so it’s fine. 

(What if they choose wrong? What if the owners can’t care for the needs of the shaky kittens? Gods, Screwdriver wobbles so much - what if she falls, what if they let her outside, what if -)

“Oop, gotta tinkle.” Percy’s hand jerks up to see Grog stand and dust off his hands. He coos when Ratched stumbles after him, mewling. “Aww, I’ll be back. Where’s the bathroom Percy?”

“It’s to the right, Buddies,” Pike says, delicately running her fingers from Bauble’s head to her little pointy tail. Scanlan’s eyes are on her, not the kitten, and he looks quite like the cat that got the cream.

“Thanks, Pikey!”

Screwdriver mimics his glance up at Grog, which - yeah, sweetheart, he is very big, hm? Percy makes sure to lavish her with extra pets for her bravery. There’s nothing to be scared of, it’s Grog. 

And then Percy remembers, and scrambles to his feet, clutching her to his chest.

“Wait! Don’t go in the-”

He hears the bars of Curio’s crate rattle from here and breaches the doorway just in time to see Grog sheepishly shut the door behind him.

“Guess I’ll hold it in,” he says.

[aphrodites-garden]

Honestly just wanna vent right now because my brain fog has been so terrible and debilitating. Between the bpd, adhd, and chronic migraines it’s a hell I can’t seem to get out of.

Every project I write I have to look up a thousand synonyms to figure out what I want to say because I can’t find the words. Then I have to go back to the page again because I’ve immediately forgotten what I read. I used to keep a journal for fun, I just call it my notebook because I also make lists and shit that aren’t diary entries. Now I have to write anything I want to remember in it because otherwise I’ll never remember it again, whether or not it was fun. It could be one of the best experiences of my life and I’ll still forget details.

I’m exhausted, my brain hurts constantly, it feels hopeless because I’m in constant agonizing pain and it never stops. I can’t even describe how I feel it’s so awful, it feels like the energy that’s making my blood boil is crawling through my skin. It feels like I’ll never get back to how I was before. I know I’m a great writer but it’s just not the same anymore. I can’t feel like myself. The words just disappear, it’s like I just can’t make connections in my brain anymore. I’m in a place where I have help and I know what to do when it gets bad and I get help, but it doesn’t really ever feel better. My head literally feels like it’s almost heavy or something.

I want to be able to enjoy my life again. I want to feel as smart as I used to. I have all the knowledge but it just won’t connect. It’s like I read an entire instruction manual and have all the knowledge, but when I go to put the project together I just can’t do it. Like my hands are just too heavy and tired to even pick up one piece. It feels like I just want to sleep for a year or something because it’s so tired and needs a break. But I can’t because I have school and work and need to survive on my own. I have a thousand problems almost no one else has to deal with and I have to fix them in a body that doesn’t work anymore.

I’ve been called a compulsive liar because I can’t remember anything and people think that saying I forgot is just an excuse. I have to use it so much I don’t blame them if they don’t know. But as soon as I try to explain why no one gets it. They think it’s just lies on top of lies and it just makes it worse. I just want to finally be believed and loved. I’m dating this girl who l really really love and I think she understands, but she’s going to school to be a cop and I haven’t had a chance to explain to her why it’s not something she should do. She wants to do it to help people and we’re very similar in that way, but I think it’s just because she doesn’t understands how the system works. I’m hoping she’ll understand when I explain it because I do it calmly and try to give good points as I always do, but I love her so much I’m worried it’ll just end. We’ve only been on 2 dates and I might see her again tonight which means I probably have to explain it.

I’m just afraid she’s gonna turn on me and think I’m a criminal because of the things I’ve done. I’ve had to steal before to eat, and also a few times something small because I did something well and couldn’t get any nice things if I didn’t do that. It’s like I work so hard so I deserve a little treat once in a while like everyone else, like a cool pen or something. Basically nothing but even a few dollars is a lot sometimes for me. I’m big into social activism which means people often call us criminals for giving advice on what to do in protests to avoid police. We avoid them because they target us and try to arrest us because we disrupt what the government wants, because we want BASIC HUMAN RIGHTS AND FOR A GENOCIDE TO STOP. Because they want power and control. And I’m afraid she won’t get that and it feels like she’s the only one who understands me right now. All of our experiences together have been so good that it literally feels like a dream and when I see her again it finally feels like reality. A bunch of my shitty friends turned on me and I don’t fucking care, I hate them, it’s just that I don’t have anyone else to talk to now besides my coworkers and a few teachers.

So I just need to find a way for this to get fucking better because I can’t stand it.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

DIY

A/N: This wasn’t planned. Or was it? @babyboibucky and @lil-stark Hope y’all like it!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: 18+, a little breast kink, soft pregnancy smut, tons of domestic fluff.

Word count: 1400

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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Taglists are open folks! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be tagged :))

.

Afternoon naps during the weekends had become a new favourite activity of yours. Waddling around the house with a heavily pregnant belly tired you out beyond belief, forcing you to take cat naps every chance you got. Bucky had developed a habit of joining you almost always because he never wished to miss a chance of holding you while you slept, also because he knew you were having trouble sleeping in the night.

There had been so many occasions when you would wake up only to find your husband gazing at your belly, hands lightly caressing while he whispered about anything and everything to the baby. The sight would fill your heart with love every single time, it had even brought you to tears the first time he did it.

However today, as sleep made it’s exit, you couldn’t find Bucky lying next to you where he usually was, instead there was some muffled cursing and muted thuds coming in from the nursery.

Pulling on Bucky’s old sweater, you padded towards the room to find him focused on his task at hand which was trying to read the instructions given on the manual of the crib you had purchased the day before.

He eyed the pieces of furniture he was supposed to put together warily before giving a confident nod to himself, as if mentally assuring himself that he could do it. And that was just too adorable to watch.

Leaning against the doorway, you stared at the love of your life for a while before announcing your arrival by clearing your throat.

“I thought we were going to do this together.”

Bucky glanced up in surprise before his face softened and he gave you a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck.

“I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

You shook your head and made your way towards him, stopping when your swollen belly met his flat one and giving him a small peck on the cheek.

“So, you figure this thing out?”

“I think so. You wanna help?” He asked softly,

hands automatically placing themselves on your bump. Bucky couldn’t help but get a little excited seeing his clothes on your pregnant body, even though you had been doing that for years. According to him, you’d never looked more radiant.

“Alright let’s build this crib.”

.

Fifteen minutes into it and you found yourself getting irritated and snippy because Bucky wasn’t following the directions you’d been giving him.

“Are you sure that’s the right way?”

“Yes doll, I’m sure.”

“Because that’s not what’s given here—”

“I know what I’m doing (Y/N)!”

He snapped, clenching his jaw as he stared at you as you held up the instructions manual for him to see.

“Fine. Seems like you don’t need my help after all! Have fun.”

You threw the piece of paper on the floor and stormed back to the bedroom, nostrils flared and fists balled up tight. It was probably an unnecessarily extreme reaction but you couldn’t help it, your hormones were on overdrive.

Pacing about the room, you took a few cleansing breaths, ready to apologise for your outburst when Bucky walked in silently.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you sweetheart.” He spoke first.

“I’m sorry too Buck, I just I don’t know why I get this hyper so easily, it’s my—”

“Pregnancy brain, I know.” He nodded, giving you a small smile, the kind that asked permission to call a truce and move past the whole thing.

“How is my little girl?”

“She’s sleeping. But Mommie’s wide awake…”

He chuckled and approached you once he saw you grinning wide, pulling you close to capture your lips in a soft kiss. He broke the kiss but you grabbed him by the back of the neck to resume, murmuring a ‘not done yet’ against his mouth.

Bucky grazed his hands along your bare legs upwards, taking his sweater with them, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Your tongues danced in harmony until you broke apart only to throw the piece of clothing out of the way.

He took his time to let his darkened eyes rake over your naked form, the kind of look that made your pussy quiver in anticipation. There were times when you’d get aware of the fact that your body looked awkward and bloated because that’s how it felt for months, but not to Bucky. He was mesmerised by the way your beautiful body adapted to this new phase, the way your body shape changed to accomodate a baby, his baby.

He loved how sensitive it had gotten over these last few months, the way your breasts had swelled up in size along with your belly.

“So beautiful…” he whispered before guiding you over to the bed, helping you to climb on top of him after he’d removed his own clothing.

You had been a little extra sensitive and uninhibited in all departments during pregnancy, including all those times wanting to ride Bucky hard at any chance you got. It was almost a second craving along with those weird food demands you were making, all of which was considered normal in the ten thousand books he had got for you to read.

You licked your lips at the sight of Bucky’s erection waiting so eagerly for your warm touch before wrapping a hand around the length, a few pumps and a flick of your thumb to collect the precum later, you maneuvered yourself so your entrance lined up. Pulling your damp panties aside, you sunk down on his cock slowly, eliciting a sinful groan from his mouth.

The feeling of being so stretched out made you throw your head back and sigh as you stayed in that position, giving yourself some time to adjust.

Your hips rolled against his own at a languid pace as you anchored your hands on his chest, your hair cascading around your face before Bucky gently pulled them aside to watch your face.

His pubic bone grazed against your clit with every move as you rode him, your shallow breaths and pants filling the room. Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his metal hand come up to fondle your breasts.

Sitting up as best as he could, he latched his mouth around your nipple and sucked, making you cry out loud while his hand attended to the other one with gentleness. They felt heavier in Bucky’s hand, full of milk meant to feed and nourish your child after she would arrive. They were for him now, today to caress, to love and cherish.

“I can feel you’re getting close, doll.” He breathed, laying back down and bringing his flesh hand over to your stimulated nub, rubbing it in tight circles.

“Fuck that’s it. Keep doing that.”

He obliged, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, you felt your insides tighten and walls flutter around his cock before you let go. A loud cry escaped your mouth as the coil in your belly snapped and you shuddered, the intensity of your orgasm triggered Bucky’s as he dug his fingers in your hips, grabbing them roughly.

A few sloppy thrusts into your quivering pussy was all it took for him to paint your walls with thick ropes of cum, his head thrown back and a look of bliss on his features.

He laid you down on your back carefully after pulling out, watching his cum dribble out onto your thighs before he cleaned you up with a washcloth and returned to bed.

Your skin was flushed and a lazy grin decorated your face as he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing feather light kisses there while running a hand all over your heated body.

He felt his little girl kick against his hand as he splayed it across your bump, making you look at each other and back down where she kept nudging, letting you know it was time to eat.

“Alright alright! I’m getting up. You want Daddy to make his delicious grilled cheese?”

Your eyes held a glint mischief as you looked at Bucky, giving him your best puppy dog look which you knew always worked.

“Come on Momma bear. I’ll make you all the grilled cheeses you want.”

[highdramas]

forever is the sweetest con | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: language and tfatws spoilers? not really but just in case

word count: 2167

summary: bucky makes a friend in his neighbor and her cat.

note: hiiiii so happy that so many people enjoyed the world's a little blurry! i am going to be writing multiple one shots, all connecting and showing little snapshots from the life of bucky and the reader <3 you don't have to read them in order, but reading all of them will help you better understand the relationship!

enjoy! <3

“stupid fucking thing.”

the swearing followed by incoherent irritable grumbling is like a dog whistle to bucky barnes. he’s standing outside of his apartment, lingering in the hallway, waiting to see if the person will speak again. to the surprise of no one, bucky hasn’t put much effort into getting to know his neighbors. he gives curt nods as he passes them in the hallway, tries his best to muster a smile when he gets caught at the mailbox beside someone else. he thinks that it looks more like a grimace than anything, but still-- it’s something.

“son of a bitch.”

the voice is feminine, and it is angry. he’s trying to discern if there is any immediate distress, and if there is-- maybe he can help. he’s pulled from his thoughts quickly as a door swings open and a large box is thrown out onto the doorstep. “fucking hell.”

the door doesn’t close. it stays open, still swinging, as if recoiling from the force in which it was tossed open. bucky could very easily continue on his way to his apartment, put away the few groceries he had purchased-- mostly pasta and cereal-- and spend his evening how he spends most evenings. fighting off sleep, because he knows what comes the moment consciousness fades and the darkness swallows him whole.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he dashes to his door and places the bag at the entryway, turning back on his heel. he fiddles with his gloves as he grows closer and closer to the door. and then, he sees you.

bucky can’t see much-- the door is only cracked. but what he can see almost makes him laugh. you’re huddled over what he assumes is a cat tower. well, a sorry excuse for a cat tower, really-- it’s half put together with miscellaneous pieces strewn all around you. you seem to be studying the instruction manual, flipping through it before you eventually toss it to the side. “kitty, i don’t know about all of this,” he hears you say.

again, there are multiple options here in terms of what bucky can do. he can leave now, pretend he never saw anything. he can check on you, and then… and then what? he doesn’t know.

he knocks.

bucky takes a step back as you scramble to your feet, pushing your hair back. you open the door and up at the stranger. “hi.” the word is short, and he can tell that you are not in a good mood. “if you’re going to bitch me out about the noise, i’m sorry. i bought a new cat tower for my cat, and it’s a bitch to put together. and i hate building anything, so i’m basically useless.” you suck in a breath and muster a smile. “so, like i said. sorry. i’ll be a better neighbor tomorrow.”

you go to close the door, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he blurts-- “wait-- no.” he shakes his head, clears his throat. “no, i wasn’t gonna bitch you out. i was--”

what was he going to say? what was he going to do?

“i was going to say i could help. if you want.” he clears his throat and rubs at his chin with a gloved hand. “i’m alright at putting furniture together.”

you linger in the doorway and look at him. though there are countless people who look at him every day, oftentimes, bucky doesn’t feel like he’s being recognized. sometimes he wonders if he is secretly invisible, drifting through this too-long life as a ghost. but the look you give him is piercing, and the smile that follows makes his heart stop in his chest.

“i’m not gonna turn down someone building this god forsaken thing for me,” you open the door wider. “come on in.”

--

bucky finishes his handiwork on the cat tower within thirty minutes, but something about you draws him in, and now it has been an hour and a half and he has not tired of your company.

you are very charming. that is the first thing that bucky notices about you. and it’s not just your personality, either. everything in your apartment seems to drip in you. there is no wall that is bare, there are different colored lights twinkling around each window, plants galore. it makes him almost feel embarrassed about the state of his own home. if you can even call it that.

it’s not a home. it’s a place where he fights off his demons and drinks cheap beer and pretends that he is okay, pretends that he is not alone, pretends that he doesn’t need sam or his therapist or anyone else in order to figure out how to live in the present.

but yours. yours is a home.

there’s a pang of jealousy, nestled deep in his heart. he doesn’t care if the thought is unreachable for someone like him, someone who has done the sort of things that he has done-- he wants it.

the thought will never reach the light of day, of course. no, it will stay buried in his belly, churning with the guilt and the anguish and the loneliness, too.

“you good over there?”

“huh?”

bucky looks up to see that you’re looking at him. your head is tilted and your mouth slightly agape, and the look… he can’t quite place it. it’s more confusion and less concern, and in a weird way, he likes that. “yeah. i’m fine.”

he’s confused by the way that the corner of your mouth turns up. “you’re a good liar,” is all that you quip before you push up off the ground, dusting off your leggings. “do you like pizza? i’m starving, and i would cook us something, but i don’t want to subject you to that. my mom says the only thing i should ever make is cereal, and even that’s pushing it. says i use too much milk.”

bucky laughs.

and it shocks him. it takes no thought at all to laugh at your words, your charm, the way that you carry yourself with such easy self deprecating humor. you make him laugh.

you, on the other hand, don’t think anything of it. you raise your eyebrows at him. “well? it’s pizza or we’re eating two big bowls of honey nut cheerios.”

“pizza is good.”

you bite down on your lip and you nod, fishing your phone from your back pocket. “great.”

bucky studies you as you order the food.

he’s learning that there are many things that he envies you for.

every muscle in your body is loose and relaxed. you don’t walk, you seem to float-- drifting in and out of rooms, brushing past him, as if you’re made up of nothing but air and stardust. you joke with the employee on the other line and then you hang up and look back to him. “i said we’d go and pick it up. it’s my favorite place, just down the street.”

“yeah, that sounds nice.”

bucky follows your lead. he’d never taken off his jacket, or his gloves, but you hadn’t made a comment about them. you scramble into clothing suitable for a new york winter and then grin at him, face slightly obscured by the massive scarf. “ready?”

he nods, and then you set out. you’re quiet for a few moments, before you say, “you’re bucky, right?”

there’s a silence that settles between you, as if some jig is now up. you glance over at him. “that’s not a bad thing,” you say softly. “or an insult.”

“yeah, i know.” his elbow knocks against yours lightly. “but, yeah. i am.”

you nod and offer your own name in return, and that is that. you don’t allude to anything else that you might or might not about him, his past, or the fact that he was used as a hydra weapon for a majority of his life, now thrust into a brand new century. no, all you do is say, “bucky’s a nice name.”

“thanks, doll.”

the pet name rolls off of his tongue so easily, like breathing. he stops for a moment, leaning into the urge to be embarrassed, but you don’t let him. “no one’s ever called me that before,” you say, brushing against his arm. “i like it.”

“it’s what all the guys used to call their girls.” he stops. “not that, you know--”

“yeah, i know,” you laugh. “i know what you meant.” you glance up at him again. “like i said, i like it.”

bucky swallows his nervousness and instead comes reassurance at your words. “i can keep callin’ you doll, if you really like it that much.”

playfulness. ease. comfort. things he has not felt in so long-- yori has tried to pull them out of him when it comes to women, but it has always felt forced, too fast, not right. this feels right.

“you make it sound like it’s such a chore!” you gape at him, but your voice is not malicious in the slightest. you are holding james buchanan barnes in the palm of your hand and you do not even know it.

“it’s not a chore,” bucky reassures. “trust me.”

“whatever you say,” you point to a small hole in the wall shop. “this is it.”

bucky holds the door open for you and you smile and wink as a thank you and god it sends his mind spinning, intoxicated by even the look that you give him. your name is performed like a symphony by every employee in the shop-- they all grin and wave, some make small talk. they eye bucky who stands a step behind you. but you turn and you place a hand on his forearm and even through all of the layers he swears that your touch burns. “this is my neighbor--” you look to him.

bucky clears his throats and he musters a smile, somewhere between his normal grimace and the smile that only seems to form in your presence. “james.”

they greet bucky with kindness and send the both of you on your way with the large pizza and a free liter of diet coke. “her favorite,” the owner says pointedly, winking to you. “we’re always trying to tell her to stop. maybe you can get her to knock the habit.”

“i don’t think anyone can get me to stop drinking diet coke,” you joke, looking at bucky with a level of fondness. “but he can certainly try.”

“i’ll give it a valiant effort,” bucky says and he tips his head to everyone before he opens the door for you once more. he holds the pizza and you hold the soda, tucked beneath your arm, and you make the trek back to your apartment in comforting quiet.

bucky learns that you don’t have a dining room table. you call it a waste of space, so you two sit in front of your coffee table on floor pillows, eating off mismatched plates and drinking the diet coke out of mugs from the thrift store you frequent.

the night is growing quieter, and you think that both you and bucky sense that it is coming to an end. you think you might be a bit addicted to being around him. he reminds you of the smell after it rains and black coffee, of laughter under neon lights and gentleness.

bucky is beginning to gather his things to leave when a meow turns both of your heads. your eyes light up. “hi baby,” you coo and the cat goes right to you and you scoop her up in your arms, presenting her to bucky. “this is katherine. or kitty, as i call her. she’s normally pretty scared of people.”

bucky hesitates, looking between you and the cat. finally, his hand reaches out and scratches kitty beneath the chin. she purrs almost instantly, nuzzling her face into his hand. you watch, somewhere in between shocked and amazed, as bucky interacts with her. “no, i swear, she hates people.” you pause. “wanna hold her?”

“oh, i don’t know…”

you raise your eyebrows and then he looks back at the cat, who gives a yap. it seems to say: please? he huffs and it fades into a smile and he holds his arms out. you set kitty into them and watch as she curls into him, rubbing the top of her head against his chin.

a girlish laugh bubbles from the deep pit of you belly and you clasp your hands together in front of you, watching with hearts in your eyes. the corner of his mouth turns up as he continues to pet the cat.

“bucky,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “i hate to inform you, she’s never gonna let you go now.”

bucky looks up at you through his lashes. you, with your easy and calm demeanor, your loud laugh and your inability to build even the simplest of furniture.

“i think i’m okay with that.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

anon ask about negative body image and self-loathing

Hi! I hope it’s okay to rant…I’ve never expressed this about myself aloud and your blog seems like a judgement free space.

I genuinely hate myself. like a lot. From my appearance to my personality and the way I carry myself. I’m a straight cis female and I have a certain idea of what a women should look like… and I am the complete opposite. I have the inverted triangle body shape, so like really wide shoulders, narrow hips, large breasts… which also affects my posture pretty badly. I feel so grotesque. Most times when I look in the mirror I think I look okay but whenever I see myself in a photo or a video I am so disgusted, I feel sick. Like how can I even show myself in public.

There’s no other way to describe it other than that I look like an alien, like I’m not even human. I wouldn’t mind it if I was even average looking. Or at least had a cute face or nice body, by that I mean wider hips than shoulders. But I have neither. It doesn’t help that sometimes people stare at me too…and I just want to hide. Clothes never look right on me. There’s only so much I can do to try to make myself look more proportionate. It’s just not fair. I didn’t choose to look the way that I do. It doesn’t help that I have no friends or have never been in a relationship either. I genuinely don’t think anyone could ever be attracted to me or love me. I try to make friends but they never last, and are often one sided to begin with and fizzle out. No one cares about me the way I care about them. No one wants to talk to me, I have a boring personality and nothing to offer. I’m just so upset, tired and ashamed.

If you had all the things you're lacking, would you be satisfied and happy, or would you find something else wrong with you because this feeling was never about all the things you lacked but actually about something else?

You can change your entire body with cosmetic and other body-altering surgery to became that perfect ideal you're looking for. With will, determination, and money, yeah, anything is possible - but at the end of the day you are still gonna feel the same. Your "certain idea of what women should look like" will always change, you will keep putting yourself down despite everything you've done because you learned to hate yourself, because someone taught you to act this way, because moment after moment created a pattern and now you're here and this is what I'm going to say.

Your body is simply a body.

it's just chillin', cell by cell doing daily activities, the mitochondria bein' the powerhouse of the cell and all that. Hey, the cellular homies have no idea what's going on out there in human society. They have no clue that the "ideal feminine body shape" is arbitrarily and randomly decided by greedy af companies scheming about how shitty they can make you feel about yourself so that you buy their product. For example, compare the "desired female shape" from the 1990's and the 2020's. Completely different. Meanwhile, your poor lil ribosomes are just trying their best to do gene expression here. The DNA says what it says and it is about as helpful as an IKEA instruction manual (read: not very).

It's hard out here, being a cell of the human body. D:

You were born with what you were born with. It is not worse or better than anyone else's body. You've taken the polar opposite of your body type and weaponized it to tear down your self-confidence, because outside influences pressured you into thinking that you need to feel that way - words from people in your life, chance meetings with strangers, marketing and media, fucked-up society, all of it. But there is no particular the body shape you must have to be considered attractive, sexy, or worthy.

People have their own prerogatives. They do what they think is right for themselves. Including you in their lives is secondary to their personal interests. It doesn't make you good or bad if they stay or move on. It doesn't make them good or bad either - they're just doing what they think is right for them at the time. But you're taking their actions and twisting it into a weapon to attack yourself when it probably didn't have much to do with you in the first place.

Why?

It's good to be critical of yourself. It helps you grow and change the things you don't like. But you've hyper-fixated and taken it too far, forgetting about the things that are awesome about you, the interests you have, hobbies you are pursuing. It takes energy to constantly put yourself down. You're drained, abandoning the positives to the wayside. A human is both good and bad. Parts of you will suck, and parts of you don't, but you can't see them because you've buried them deep down and lost touch. It will take work. It might seem easy to constantly shit on yourself, but the reality is that you're actually working really hard to find all the worst angles, and you can redirect that energy to working out, to diving deeper into your interests, to picking up a new hobby, or even distraction. I'm sure that people would say having fun isn't productive, but it is, because it teaches your mind to enjoy something simply for the sake of enjoying it and not trying to get something out of it.

Having that skill is essential for cultivating passion - for others, for yourself, for life.

There are things you can do if you want to. Look for supportive bras and ways to improve posture. Budget for a breast reduction if your healthcare professional thinks it would greatly improve your overall general health. If you want to learn to pose for pictures and know your best angles, look up images of poses you like, copy them, practice on your own, take a class, work with a photographer. There are lots of YouTube videos that explain what looks good on camera - it's not the same as real life. You're taking something 3D and transforming into 2D. It takes a lot of practice. It takes time. It takes failure after failure of looking awkward af until you figure out what you want to look like. It is never the body that is the problem. It is never the clothes. It is figuring out how you want to be perceived at that moment in time and then learning to translate that to the camera, to others, to the world.

You would never say to a friend, you are the complete opposite of what your gender should look like. You're grotesque. Disgusting. Don't go out in public. You're boring. You have nothing to offer. If you're saying those things, you aren't friends anymore. You're being cruel and mean.

Why is it okay for you to say these things to yourself?

You say no one cares about you the way you care about them, but you aren't even giving yourself grace. The most important relationship you need to nurture is the one with you. Friendships come and go. Relationships with lifelong partners are developed later in life. But the constant that remains is you, the one who you will always sleep with is you, and to give love to someone else means you need to love the one and only - you.

Care for her.

Protect her.

Love her.

If it's easier for you to think of yourself as someone to care for, then do it. Make that vow and do for you what you would do for a friend, a lover, a forever partner. You are your forever partner, and she will always forgive you for your mistakes. It is never too late to change your mind. Difficult, yes. So fuckin' difficult. But not too late.

[pappydaddy]

Nurse Simon (s.k)

A/N: I had absolutely no idea what to name this. This is just a quick fic I wrote up for Simon to kick off my Fear Street Masterlist so it's not very long, just a little blurb. I wrote this all last night at one o'clock in the morning because I couldn't sleep with my mouthguard in (I had to get it because I chew the inside of my cheeks and lip in my sleep when I'm anxious) and I just rolled with it. Anywho, I hope you lovelies enjoy this very random Simon fic💛!

TV Show/Movie: Fear Street: 1994

Pairing: Simon Kalivoda x Fem!Reader

Not Requested

Simon Kalivoda Taglist: @maybe-alistair

Warnings: Anxiety is mentioned, anxious tick is also mentioned (chewing the inside of your mouth). Not proofread, I'm going to read through all my fics so I will edit this better then.

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif -

Laying in bed, Y/N groaned, flipping over dramatically as she pleaded with her brain to shut up. Mouthing the uncomfortable mouthguard around in her mouth, she cursed her brain for making her this way. “Stupid Anxiety.” Her words were altered by the lisp the mouth guard gave her as she flopped onto her back once again, staring blankly up at the ceiling as the silver moonlight flowed against it.

She was still not used to having to wear the mouthguard her doctor instructed her to get after their last appointment. To make things worse, it was a random unopened mouth guard found at the bottom of her brother’s duffle bag. So there was no way of knowing the true cleanliness of the plastic guard (even though she boiled it three times just to be safe). Letting out yet another annoyed groan, Y/N forced her eyes shut, trying to manually shut her brain off so she could get at least a few hours of sleep before school tomorrow.

Just as her brain began to slow down, the unexpected draft suddenly invading her room kickstarted her brain right into overdrive. She froze, trying to figure out if the sheer exhaustion she was battling the past few weeks had finally gotten to her - causing her to hallucinate - or if there was actually a murderer climbing through her window right then and there. Both were possibilities in Shadyside.

The stumble of feet tripping over her knocked-over cardboard cutout of Nick Lachey made her blood run cold, but in a moment of sheer stupidity, Y/N shot straight up in her bed, flicking on her lamp to uncover her murderer. Stunned, she sat there blinking at her boyfriend as he blinked back at her, for some reason scared that he had been caught sneaking into her bedroom at three in the morning.

“What the fuck, Simon,” She exclaimed, her mouth guard making her talk with a lisp. She didn’t realize it was still in, instead, proceeding to grab her pillow from behind her and hurl it at her boyfriend. “You can’t do that shit in Shadyside, I thought you were a murderer.” She wished she hadn’t thrown her pillow at him since she had a strong desire right then to smack him repeatedly with it, but at the same time, she didn’t want to throw both her pillows.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized, holding one hand in the air as he bent down to grab her pillow from by his feet. “Sheesh woman, you have good aim,” He muttered, rubbing his nose after being hit square in the face by her uncomfortably hard pillow. “How do you even sleep on these things? When I sleepover, I just use my folded-up t-shirt, it’s softer than this shit.” He asked, tossing the pillow to its rightful place at the head of her bed.

“Well I’m sorry that with all the great technology of the 90s, we as a human race have failed to figure out the perfect pillow formula, Simon,” She grunted sarcastically, still forgetting about the mouth guard. “Now why are you here,” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, inadvertently drawing her sex-crazed, always horny boyfriend’s attention to her boobs. “Simon!”

“Huh, what?” He snapped out of it before looking at her face, jumping back with a small scream.

“What?” She asked, looking behind her for whatever scared him, but there was nothing. Looking back at him, she saw the same look of terror on his face, his shaking finger pointed right at her.

“Don’t freak out babe, but there is something in your mouth,” He whispered, stepping hesitantly towards her bed, too scared to get close to it. “It’s all over your teeth and a tail thing is sticking out of it.” He pulled his top lip up, pointing to his top teeth before swooping it to indicate a tail.

Y/N rolled her eyes, pulling the mouth guard from her mouth, a string of saliva following it. She cringed, thankful their relationship was not new or that would have been mortifying. Simon had always been comfortable around her. At first, Y/N was more careful about what she did in front of him, not being her full self out of fear of him leaving, but being in a relationship with a person for over six months changes that. “It’s my mouth guard, you Baboon.” She told him, reaching over to place it in its case.

“Why do you need a mouth guard, scared of getting tackled in your sleep?” He asked, crawling onto her bed, flipping unceremoniously into the spot next to her, winching when he landed on the hard pillow.

“No, it’s so that I stop chewing the inside of my cheek when I’m anxious.” She barked, grumpy.

“Sheesh, someone’s a little grumpy.” Simon sucked in a breath, looking at her with gleaming eyes. She glared down at him, not wanting to admit that the wide, sparkling blue eyes he was giving her broke through her grumpiness instantly.

“No shit, I was just about to fall asleep when you came falling through my window, scaring me half to death and now you won’t stop talking,” She ranted, pointing at the still open window. “And you didn’t even have half the decency to close the window after you.”

He rolled off the bed, walking over to shut and lock the window. “Well, let’s go to bed together. Might help you sleep, then we can sleep in tomorrow morning.” He suggested, picking up the cardboard cutout, standing it in the corner of the room next to her extensive Cassette and CD collection.

“We have school in the morning.” She reminded him, not looking up from where she was fixing her bedsheets from him messing them up when he rolled out of the bed.

“You’re such a nerd that you want to go to school on Thanksgiving?” Simon asked jokingly, knowing full well that her exhausted brain completely forgot what day it was tomorrow (or today since it was the morning already).

“Shit-���

“It’s all right, I have the day off so I’ll nurse you back to sanity, babe.” He pretended he was doing her a great justice as he flopped back down beside her, pulling her down with him, pressing her back flush against his front.

“That’s not an overly comforting thought,” She grumbled, but he simply shushed her, petting her hair. “Fine,” She gave up, accepting it. “But the only reason I am not chewing you out for making me think I was gonna get murdered is the fact that I am too tired to argue.” Her words slowly became slower and more slurred as being wrapped in Simon’s arms made her feel protected and less anxious, basically shutting her brain off with the feeling of his touch.

Mustering up enough strength to battle against the sudden wave of sleepiness, she reached to turn her lamp off, bathing them in darkness that only the silver moonbeams broke up. Seconds later, her eyelids drooped, cutting out all light. “I love you, Simon.” She breathed out, forgetting her mouthguard.

“I love you too, babe,” He responded. She could feel him reaching over her to her nightstand, but she was too tired to care. “I love you so much that I can’t let you forget your terrifying mouthguard.” He whispered, thinking she was asleep. Gently, he managed to wiggle the mouthguard into her mouth before settling back down behind her pulling her farther into him, snuggling his face into the back of her neck affectionately.

[smol-and-grumpy]

A Part Of You

Pairing: Dean x Reader (past)

Summary: Dean thinks about what he's lost. But he's also moving on, along with a part of her that she left him.

Prompt: “I need you to fight for me.”

Warnings: Character death, angst, but also so much fluff and hope

WC: 750 (!!!!)

A/N: I wrote this for Ang’s #angelina’s collab challenge contest and when I first started out this little journey, I thought that filling up 750 words is going be a lot of work but once I started to write it, it seems like 750 words aren't enough for the story I wanted to tell. I ended up with too many words and had to make major cuts. I still hope it makes sense for you. Imagine what I could have done if I was allowed more words.

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Dean wakes to footsteps descending the stairs. 

Tap Tap Tap

He blinks his sleep away and catches the silhouette of his daughter walking closer to where he’s still laying.

Dean rubs at his eyes before he flips his wrist. 

2.37 AM

“Daddy, you fell asleep on the couch again,” The little girl says as she stands before him. 

Pushing himself up with a grunt, Dean groans some more, but loud and comically. His daughter giggles. He absolutely adores the sound of her laughter. She sounds like Y/N used to.

He laughs, reaching out, tickling her. She twists in his grip, scrambling to get away. 

A squeal of delight and giggles, “Daddy! Stop! Daaaddyyyy!”

Wrapping his arms around her, he lifts her up, setting her into his lap. She’s still trying to catch her breath.

Y/N would be mad at him for winding her up in the middle of the night. Sometimes he wishes that she’d be here to scold him. She’d brace her hands on her hips and frown, maybe there’d be a little pout, if he’d be lucky. He loved the pouting. She’d get madder because he wouldn’t take it seriously enough. To be fair, it was hard to take it seriously when she looked so cute mad.

“Come on, Pumpkin, let’s get you to bed, huh?” Dean holds her still as he kisses her forehead. Her breathing slows down, the hiccupy giggles calmed down.

“You too.” She starts to get tired again, yawns and rubs her eyes.

“Okay.” Dean smiles down, pecks her cute nose, making her chuckle.

He gets up, turns her just right in his grip, hooking his arm in the hollow of her knees, and supports her back with his other arm. The girl nuzzles her face against his chest.

Carrying her into her bedroom, Dean lays her down on her bed and tucks her in, kisses her forehead once more, “Goodnight, pumpkin. I love you,”

She yawns before turning around to nestle herself, “Love you too, Daddy,”

Dean smirks at that, her words make his heart soar. God, he really loves her so much. 

Glancing around the darkened room, he thinks back to the day they decorated it. It has changed a lot since then. She’s not sleeping in a crib anymore and she wanted to have a play kitchen so Dean went out and got her that, spent six hours setting it up and by the time he was finished, she was already asleep on the floor next to him. It was his fault because he hates instruction manuals. It’s another thing that he and Y/N would argue about. She’s more like Sammy, she’d read instructions before doing anything at all. Guess opposites attract, and Dean wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Leaving his daughter’s bedroom, he leaves the door ajar. It’s a habit that’s hard to shake, still too scared he wouldn’t hear her when she needs him. 

Dean walks along the landing to his own room and prepares for bed in the bathroom. Back out in the bedroom, he gets out of his sweats and takes off his shirt, throws it into the hamper, and crawls onto his side of the bed. The other side is still Y/N, even though she hasn’t been in there for a long time and never will be again. 

He lays his heavy head onto the pillow, facing the empty space where she used to occupy. Dean makes it a habit to talk to her, even though she’s gone.

“I hope I’m doing alright, Y/N. We miss you, so fucking much.” His voice is a deep low murmur because he’s embarrassed that his daughter would hear him talking to himself. 

Dean closes his eyes, remembering the last time he saw her. He sat teary next to her hospital bed while doctors were trying to save their little girl after a drunk driver drove into them. The driver didn’t make it and that’s good because Dean would have killed the guy himself with his bare fucking hands. 

He held Y/N’s fragile hand, kissed it, “I need you to fight for me, baby. Fight for us.”

She did fight, he’s sure of that. She wouldn’t have left without a fight. She lost it, though, and took a part of him with her. There’s still a part of her that she left here and Dean’s holding onto that part. He is going to protect and keep that part of her alive.

[accidental-spice]

Solo Command re-read part one.

Spoilers, naturally.

1. 'Naval Lieutenant Jart Eyan looked rested and cheerful. The fact that he had only twelve minutes to live would have changed his disposition, but he dud not possess that knowledge.' What an entrance, Allston.

2. And Piggy thwarts an assassination. And he does it really awesomely, too. Reminds me a bit of one of the half dozen Sherlock episodes I've ever seen.

3. So, one of the best parts about this book is the fact that one of my favorite platonic relationships, and one of my favorite romantic relationships, both come to fruition. Firstly, the platonic one: Face and Lara. I'll probably elaborate later, but they're cool. I'll definitely elaborate later on the romantic one, Myn and Lara.

4. Oh. Great. A replacement medic. Just great.

5."Elassar Targon, master of the universe, reporting for duty!" Wedge: oh, great, another maniac.

6. Face becomes the leader of the squad. When I started this series for the first time, I had no idea that Face was gonna end up Wraith One. Unexpected, but not unwelcome.

7. Wedge is analyzing the other lieutenants to see how they feel about their new squad leader, and all seems well thus far.' That left Myn Donos, a lieutenant with more years and more experience than Face. He looked serious and contemplative. But then, serious was merely a step up from his usual expression, that of dour intensity.' Yep, Myn's facial expressions are pretty much limited to intense and...... More intense.

8. Wedge is going on a da-ate. According to Hobbie, "He smells like a fresh spring breeze ". Bet it's with Iella. Speaking of OTPs...

9. 'Dia Passik, the female Twi'lek, said, "He (Face) insisted that he wasn't feeling well." Lara Notsil smiled over her shoulder at them. "He lied. He lies all the time, you know." "I know. But he seemed so genuine." "He does that all the time, too. This is the right thing to do. Myn, Elassar, back me up. " For context, they're going convincing him to go for a night out with the four of them. See? BROTHER.

10. "I've often suspected that you sometimes put on disguises just to go to the refresher. "

11. Oh, look, someone mistook Lara for their old student, Edalia Monotheer. Bet that won't come back to bite us...................................................

12. And Zsinj calls up the ship Han's on, and Chewie answers. "It's, ah, Chewbacca, isn't it? Please put your owner on." Zsinj, Han doesn't own Chewie. It's actually probably the other way around.

13. Tyria just called Face "chief". Hallelujah.

14. It's amusing to realize that Wraith and Rogue Squadron are assisting Wedge in his 'I refuse to become a general' scheme. Because they are.

15. So apparently, Corran and Han have never been in the same room together during this trip, so there's a baseless conspiracy theory that they're the same person. Hilarious.

16. Piggy's fresh out of the bacta tank, and the Wraiths are here to greet him. And troll him, naturally. 'Shalla said, "Kell and I worked up an instructional manual for you. It's called, *How to Dodge*." Piggy mopped away at his damp skin and allowed himself a slight smile. It was good to be home.' *gets bowled over by found family feels*

17. *mentions Phanan* Me: AGONY! PAIN! MISERY! VARYING LEVELS OF AMUSEMENT!

18. Donos will now commence to initiate a conversation with a young woman he likes. *eyebrow wiggle* Hopefully, he asks her to do an activity together. That'll sell..

19. He does not ask her to do an activity together.

20. Which is probably why its doesn't go THAT well.

21. "I'm going to be a tremendous embarrassment to the Wraiths." Lara, honey, Wraith Squadron can't afford to get embarrassed. They're already an embarrassment. (Affectionate)

22. Tyria is getting better at the Force. Knew you could do it, Tyria.

23. 'Shalla said, "You're getting weird, Tyria." This is good. When things start to get weird like this, that's a good thing.

24. Elassar is eating candy mid-mission. Okay, he's growing on me. I do have a slight prejudice against him because he's the new medic. And I really really miss the old one....

25. I retract my weird-means-good statement, they are in an incinerator.

26. Well, that could have been worse.

27. "By the way, I'm putting in a commendation for Kell for his initiative, and one for Lieutenant Janson for bravery." "Like he needs another one." "Maybe he can build a little fort out of them."

28. "Get the Wraiths together," Wedge said. "We're going to conduct one of their insane speculation and planning sessions. " Yeah, this line just amuses me.

29. So, they're having a dance, and Donos and Lara are flirting, and Dia and Face are flirting by watching them flirting and basically competing over who can read their body language better. It's weird and adorable.

30. Well, Facebis gonna do some research on Lara and Edalia Monotheer. Bet we won't live to regret that............................................

31. Okay, Solo's gone off the deep end. "Without her (Leia), I don't have a place. I'm just a drifter with an irresistible dose of roguish charm. And someday she'll get tired of the charm and there won't be anything else for me to offer her." "You know," Wedge said, "I can't do it myself, because you're my superior officer. But I could call Chewie down here, and tell him what you've just said, and then he'd beat you nearly to death with a hydrospanner." Stars, Han. Anyone knows that Leia needs you. It's so obvious, even a blind man could see it.

32. So, Wedge is giving everyone the night off, unofficially. Including the astromech droids. Also, he's not Wedge. After all, Commander Wedge Antilles would be wearing proper rank insignia.

33. The book calls it 'Wedge's mutiny of anonymity,' and I really can't do it justice. It's hilarious.

Pretty much sure that's half the book done, then. Later!

[rupertgayesarchive]

Hello! I see that you're taking the drabble request things. 20 and 39 for fluff?

that's not what the instructions say / you're adorable when you ramble

oh this was so cute. Any point in hfym post them getting together:

-

"That is not what the instructions say." Dean turns from where he's been buried in the wires of Cas's dashboard for the past twenty minutes.

"What?"

Cas pointedly lifts the instruction manual that came with the car. Dean rolls his eyes.

"This car was made in the nineties."

"And?"

"And technology has totally changed since then! This whole dashboard can be replaced. And once I do replace it," he spares Cas a smile, "because I'm awesome, your stupid instructions will be useless." He yanks out another wire that has Cas glancing towards the wheel, just to triple check the keys aren't in the ignition.

"But what if..." He bites his lip. Dean is already focusing on the mechanics behind the radio. "What if it breaks again?"

"Then I fix it," Dean says. Simple as that. Cas doesn't say anything else. But he watches Dean's hands, how he's able to detangle the wires, unscrew panels and replace old parts with new. He tries to pay attention, really wants to learn, but then Dean starts talking, again.

It's bad, he knows it is. Dean usually does a good job listening to him. He'll drag his feet and groan and complain, depending on the topic, but he does listen, and remembers, too. Cas can tell Dean, in between research or directing him through a particularly nasty stretch of interstate, that he wants to try catfish, and Dean would pull over to a hole-in-the-wall diner by the water the next time they went south of Kentucky. He wouldn't say anything of course, but when they were in their seats poring over the menu he'd point at the specialty list and smile and it made Cas feel seen like nothing else.

Which is why it's so terrible that he can't absorb a thing of what Dean's saying when it comes to cars.

He got some aspects of it - gas mileage, tires, trunk space - and he could probably figure out the oil change, and he replaced a brake light himself the other week without needing any help. But the stuff Dean does with the Impala - and now, apparently, his car - are things he can't grasp.

Or maybe he could, if someone, anyone but Dean was teaching him.

Dean's fingers twist along yet another wire, trailing along its length. His head is tilted towards Cas from where they're both pressed in the front seat, and Cas can hear the rise and fall of Dean's voice as he talks, explains what he's doing. Cas glances at him from the corner of his eye, catches that easy smile on his face Dean gets whenever he's absorbed in something he enjoys.

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" Dean says.

"Mhm," Cas half says, half sighs. Then realizes what he admitted to. "Um."

"Seriously dude, again?" Dean sits back and digs out some needle-nose pliers at the tool box by his feet. "If this isn't interesting to you then you don't -"

"You ramble and its adorable," Cas strangles out.

"...I don't ramble," Dean says.

"It sounds like rambling to me."

"Because you don't know what I'm talking about!"

"You're very distracting," he says, distinctly realizing that now would be a great time for the ground to swallow him up. Dean stares at him. "I'm sorry. I try to pay attention, really, I just -"

"I distract you?" Dean says, clearly delighted by the idea. He drops the pliers, not caring that they're falling into his toolbox in a haphazard way. Then he kicks the box further towards the brake pedal and Cas thinks he might be in trouble.

"Yes?" Cas says, voice going higher from the strain. Dean starts to smile, and it goes wide fast. He crooks his finger at Cas, gesturing to come even closer than where they are now, not even a foot apart.

Licking his lips, Cas obeys.

Dean doesn't get the radio fixed until about an hour later. He doesn't talk, but he hums as he works, some song about biting the dust, Cas thinks, dazedly. Every few minutes he shoots Cas a smirk from where he's laying in the backseat until the radio's new and improved - Dean's word, not his - and they take it for a spin.

"What band, what band," Dean says, flicking through the cassette tapes. The stereo Dean put in has room for cassettes and CDs, even if Dean would never even think about doing that to his Baby. "Driver's choice."

Cas digs out a best of Queen tape, and Dean's eyes go soft around the corners. "Like you read my mind," he says, feeding it into the slot.

Cas thinks it's nothing that crazy, but he doesn't say anything. The guitars start, then the drums, and the vocals aren't far behind. Dean cranks the volume up as Cas switches into drive and takes off, grabbing Dean's hand and squeezing.

Dean doesn't say anything either. But he does squeeze back.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “The Dragon.”

This is it everyone, the moment you have all been waiting for! 

If you are disappointing with how it turns out please read my explanation at the end, and I think you will understand why I did what I did. Come to the discord server, which I will be on all day, and talk to me cordially as well. I encourage you to do so.

 https://discord.gg/6RTbtSq

He rubbed at his temples with the heel of his hands. Today had been a long and exhausting day. Looking down at his implant he could see that it wasn’t even five yet, and he blew out a big gust of air, which morphed itself into a long, drawn-out sigh.

He wasn’t tired because he was working harder.

Arguably he was actually doing less work now that he had delegated most of his old duties back to the crew, where they belonged.

No, today had been exhausting as he tried to control himself.

Finally, learning to let go and trust others to manage things was turning out to be harder for him than he had thought. He had never seen himself as someone who had a control problem; he liked doing dangerous out of control things too much for that, but it seemed as if he had found a way to be both types of person.

He trailed his fingers down the side of the hallway as he headed down towards engineering.

He needed a break.

He needed a friend, someone he could talk to.

Fewer duties had also meant that he had more time to think, and more time to think meant more time to brood on this last year and all the insanity that had come with it. It was almost hard to believe it had been a year and not an entire lifetime.

He reached out a hand grabbing onto the rungs of the ladder, sliding down in a way he thought pretty badass before turning into the dim interior. It had taken him weeks to memorize the engineering deck because, despite being engineers, these guys apparently had no sense of organization.

He cut past rooms and shelves and crates full of spare parts and took one last set of narrow stairs down into an auxiliary set of rooms.

From here, he could hear the clattering of metal and the sharp huff of a welding torch.

He stepped down the last set of steps and leaned against the entryway arms crossed over his chest.

He stayed quiet not wanting to disturb her while she was working.

Sunny sat at her work bench surrounded by tools and racks of weaponry.

Her face and eyes were covered by a large welding mask which cast the reflection of sparks back across the room and towards where he stood.

He smiled a little as he watched. Her hands moved with the quick lithe movements of a professional as she worked to bring her next piece of weaponry to life. Her feet were steady on the deck floor and every arm was held perfectly still as she worked. He couldn’t see her face, but from the lines of her body told the story of someone in deep focused concentration.

He continued to smile. 

Jupiter, how he admired that in her.

He wasn’t good with building things, in fact he could barely put his mechanical pencil back together without an instruction manual.

Looking around at the walls and ceiling he was, once again, impressed at her talent. There was so much cool stuff here he wouldn’t know where to begin asking about it. Large blueprints and concept drawings lined the wall from top to bottom on one side glowing a dull blue under the dim overhead lights.

He turned his head back to watch her, the deft way in which she used the tools, the slow shift of her weight as she moved about the object, the cold calculated pauses in between.

Like watching someone blow glass or preform a dance.

He was so focused on watching that he barely noticed when the mask came off.

“How long have you been standing there?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin coming face to face with those sharp golden eyes.

Smiling, he rubbed the back of his neck, “Only a few minutes. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

She sat down at her bench turning the piece over and over in her hands as she decided what to do next, “Haven’t I told you that you have a free pass to interrupt me any time you like.”

“Just because you said I could doesn’t mean it’s polite.”

“I think we are past niceties.”

He snorted and stepped down into her little shop turning in a wide circle to stare up at the walls and the racks of weapons, “This is awesome! Don’t see why I don’t come down here more.”

“Generally you’re too busy micromanaging people.”

They both laughed.

“Fair enough.” He turned to look at her, “No music?”

She turned and motioned to the green headphones sitting behind her on the work bench, “Can’t wear them when I’m welding.”

“Oh, right.”

He stepped down the line of racked weapons delicately choosing a spear from the wall. It was one of Sunny’s shorter models, likely meant for herself, and almost too big for him to handle at all, still he spun it absently between his fingers. Feeling the weight as he snapped it up palm down, the shaft of the weapon running the length of his arm.

She watched him, “You like?”

“Good balance, a bit big on me though.” He set it back against the rack.

“Try this one.” She said, and he turned catching the spear from midair as she tossed it to him. The weight was familiar, the length was good, “Wanted to get you something better than that stick you were using back on Anin.”

“Hey that stick saved my life.” He pointed out stroking the pad of his thumb up the weapon, “You made this? For me?”

“Of course. Can’t have you using inferior weaponry.”

He looked down at the shaft of the spear, and the lovingly carved edges, the sharp point forged from Drev obsidian. The sharpest material in the known galaxy.  The smile that caught his face could have broken it. You knew a Drev cared about you when they started giving you weapons. Hijan had taught him that.

She watched him as he tested the spear spinning it, jabbing with it, and all around being a jackass.

Once done, he set it base down on the ground, “Your best work yet.”

She lifted her head in that way Drev have when they are pleased before turning back to her work. He watched her for a while rolling the spear shaft between his thumb and pointer finger.

He turned towards the wall and sighed.

Sunny looked up, “Everything alright?”

He stood shoulders hunched, and she waited, “You ever think about the passage of time. About getting older?”

“Not really, why?”

He shrugged, “Guess I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”

“Don’t strain yourself.”

“A ha funny.” She snorted, but he kept going, “Guess I sort of just saw my life having gone a bit further by now?”

“What do you mean?”

He picked up another spear examining the tip, “Well, for one, I had sort of hoped I’d be better at dating by now.”

“You’re looking for someone: a battle partner?”

“At least thinking about looking.” 

He turned to look at her, and she had set aside her project. Two of her elbows were resting against the table, and she leaned her chin against her hands. Her head was lightly cocked, “And what are you looking for in a battle partner?”

He shrugged and turned his head back to the wall where all of Sunny’s engineering projects hug. Guns and spears and tons of things he would never have been able to create in a million years, “Well for one I would like her to be smarter than me, preferably. I’ve always admired smart people.” Sunny nodded having moved from where she was sitting by the wall and instead standing by her work bench spinning a spear between her fingers, “Someone athletic who could totally kick my ass.” He rubbed the back of his head, “Someone who is going to put up with how much I suck sometimes, preferably pretty nerdy if she can manage, or might at least pretend. Someone Funny maybe. Someone cool with traveling the universe.” 

Sunny watched him from the side of the room where she was now leaning back against her work bench.

“Someone who will have my back in either in an argument or a fight. I would like someone to watch movies with and who listens to similar music. Someone who isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m being a moron and call me out on my shit. Someone who understand, and won’t judge my past or have a problem with it. Someone where we can both work on each other’s problems together.”

He turned in a short circle staring up at the ceiling. “I want …. I don’t know.”

Sunny tapped her fingers against the work bench her head lowered. The brow was raised over one of her golden eyes, “So you want what we have.”

The room went dead quiet as he stared at her, and she calmly stared back.

He stammered for a second, “I mean yes, but…. no”

Sunny had her head tilted at him still staring. His heart hammered against his rib cage. Blood rushed to his face. What the fuck was he saying?

“Come on, Adam-”

“Well I...” He paused and quickly glanced down at his implant, “Aw shit, I have to get back to work, my break is over.” He turned on his heel.

“Adam.”

He waled up the stairs.

“Adam!”

A thin line of sweat trickled down his back as he made it into the hallway and jogged down the length of the engineering bay climbing the ladder to the next light. 

He wiped sweat from his forehead as he walked down the hallway and towards the docking bay.

His crew greeted him as he passed, and he gave them all weak smiles as he made his way into the next room. He could see scientists preparing to send a camera down towards the black hole. It would break soon enough, but it couldn’t hurt to see how close they could actually get.

He walked past them and towards the hanger where a line of jets were docked. He headed towards the end where the F-90 darkfire sat waiting. He shooed off the crew.

This is something he could handle by himself. 

He walked up to the jet placing a hand on the side. His jet.

He glanced over his shoulder and quickly walked back behind the landing gear.

He rested his head against the cold mental 

Just a few seconds and something else to think about, and he would be ok. He looked the jet over from top to bottom trying to occupy his mind with a menial task, so he wouldn't have to think but the thinking just got worse.

Thoughts that he had kept shoved into the back of his mind for a long time came bubbling to the surface.

And he realized.

He HAD been describing their relationship.

He had described Sunny to her face.

Internally he was groaning.

But how could he argue, she was the perfect girl, everything about her was perfect aside from.

From

From the fact she wasn’t human?

That was when another part of his brain joined the horrible conversation, the one that was making his chest tighten and his throat constrict, and his hands shake. 

What was wrong with her not being human? 

Why did that matter?

Because

Because why?

Around him the docking bay had mostly emptied, leaving him alone with the jet and his own horrific thoughts. He slammed his head against the side of the jet with a dull thud. Stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking.

Give one good reason?

Shut up

Shut up

HE stepped back from the jet finding he had nothing else to do. 

Stop thinking.

He turned towards the cargo bay door, and stepped back in shock.

Sunny glowered at him marching up the length of the docking bay two spears held at her sides.

He stepped back as she marched forward her golden eyes boring into him like an automated targeting system. She walked like the terminator had taken her over and was intent on ripping him in half. 

He stepped back bumping into the jet, stuck in place.

She stopped before him, “I call bullshit.”

“You.”

“No shut up, I call bullshit, and I can prove why.”  She lifted her hand and tossed the spear onto the floor where it rolled and bumped into the toes of his boots. He looked down.

She stepped back whipping her spear around legs bent holding the point down and back behind her, “Pick up the spear Adam.” 

“Sunny I.”

“Shut up and pick up the spear.”

He reached down fingers wrapping around the cold metal standing and holding the spear loose in one hand like he had been taught.

She crouched lower, “Now fight me.”

“What.”

“You heard me.”

His heart pounded eyes widening, “Sunny, you arent-”

“No dumbass that's Unarmed combat.”

He felt heat rise to his face, “Oh, right.” He spun the spear and began to circle. What other choice did he have?

“She charged forward, and he ducked spinning past the leaf blade of her spear. She spun back and he dodged out of the way spinning sideways into anther low crouch, “I’m sick and tired of dancing around, Adam. I have to know.”

“Have to know what?”

“Stop playing dumb I know you’re not an idiot.” He dodged back swaying out of reach of her next attack before darting in. She cut out of the way., “You have what you want, you have me, so what’s the problem?”

He ducked under a blow and caught her second on the shaft of his spear grunting with the force as he slid back across the metal floor. The steel of spear on spear rang through the cargo bay, “I….”

“Is it because I’m not human?”

He backed up.

Panting he skipped to the side, “You know I support the LFIL, but I’m not attracted to aliens.” 

He yelped in shock and pain as the spear came in contact with his shins knocking him off his feet and onto the floor. He rolled to the side as the spear slammed into the ground, and he went rolling to the side leaping to his feet not so far off.

“Name the last HUMAN.” You were attracted to

He opened his mouth to speak but found nothing…. He racked his brain, but no. he stammered.

“Exactly,” 

He stepped back spear clattering in sharp ringing sounds as they danced back and forth over the ground. A sort of rhythm formed, and neither of them seemed to be gaining the upper hand. 

“We’ve been going like this for months now Adam, and I’m sick and tired of trying to figure it out.”

He gritted his teeth batting away her spear once and then twice.

“I don’t know! I…”

He felt the frustration spilling out of him, an emotion he had been holding onto for a while now.

“Just tell me! So I don’t have to spend so much time worrying!”

“I can’t!” He spat in frustration their blows growing harder and harder and louder and louder. He spun the spear and cracked her across one hip. She staggered sideways but immediately caught him after that

“Why not!”

“Because I don’t know!”

“Well what do you feel.”

His heart was hammering with both nerves and the fight. He lept backwards taking the higher ground as he stood on a group of crates jumping over her spear as she swiped at his feet.

His face was red, “I wish you would stop being so goddamn perfect!”

He was surprised, she was surprised, but she held him off, “Why.”

“Because it makes my life so damn complicated I….”  he snarled and leaped from the boxes. She had to cut to the side as he sailed past her landing on the floor and skidding backwards, “I care about you.” He growled

“Than how is that complicated.”

“Because...” His heart was hammering, his throat had constricted. They shared lightning fast attacks neither able to get anywhere until the point where they were standing in the middle of the room both unable to move locked together by the shaft of their spears 

“Look at us.” She said, her voice soft, “I know you moves better than you know them, and you know mine. We are perfectly matched, so please before I get any further, you have to tell me.”

Blood roared in his ears his chest was tight, his throat constricted. The tips of his fingers tingled. Adrenaline was laying siege to his insides making his vision go black around the edges. He could barely breathe.

His arms trembled against the weight. Their eyes were locked.

“I.”

She waited.

“I….” His ears echoed, “I feel the same way.”

And then he couldn't anymore he pulled away from her and threw the spear to the ground. With a clatter it went rolling across the deck as he turned away clutching his head in frustration and…. Fear?”

“Are you ok?”

He was definitely not ok.

“So what now. What are we going to do?”

We 

“I don’t know.”

“What can we do?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t understand, why won’t you do anything.”

“BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW HOW!”

He turned body slicked with sweat and began climbing the ladder towards the cockpit of the darkfire.

“Adam where are you going!”

“To clear my head!”

 He slammed his fist against the side canopy release and clambered inside.

“Adam wait!”

He didn’t, pulling on the helmet and locking the oxygen mask over his face. He flipped up his eyepatch and locked the visor down over his face as the canopy closed. He ordered a detachment from the deck and the plane lurched as red lights began to blink in the docking bay. The jet was routed through a system of rails on the floor and out towards the airlock.

The door shut behind him and the bay was depressurized.

Everything went silent except for the cacophony in his head, and as the doors opened he burst from the airlock slammed back against his seat as he went roaring into space. He turned the plane left as, outside his right window, he could see the roiling mass of the black hole and its glowing white event accretion disk. The side of the ship was lit with its bright white light, and he turned traveling away from the supermassive black hole.

Inside the mask his breathing was heavy.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” he screamed silent inside the cockpit.

He was an idiot!

He couldn't go a single fucking week without doing something stupid. Getting in the cockpit of n F-90 without a flight suit, without a space suit, and all while upset. Mother fucker why was he so dumb!  Why was he such a raging child. 

He slowed the jet a bit coasting through the darkness to feel the distant vibration of the engines.

They had crested the side of a large gaseous nebula, and he leaned back in his seat. He needed to calm down and the jet was helping some. He just had to go slow, and yes were his actions poorly thought out, definitely, but they hadn’t put anyone in danger but himself.

He was still human and prone to freaking out, and it’s not like he wasn’t entitled to that.

He took a deep breath.

It was how he was going to deal with it from this point on that would prove whether he learned anything over the past month.

He took another deep breath and slowly turned the jet in a wide circle.

First thing was first.

He needed to admit to himself what had just happened….

And what was that exactly?

Easy.

….

He was…. In love with his best friend, and he didn’t know how to face it, or deal with it, and he could barely acknowledge it. 

Things were going to change and that scared him.

 Breathe, nice and easy.

He didn’t want to go back and face her, or anyone, and maybe once upon a time he wouldn't have, but he was, at the end of the day, the commander, and he needed to command, if not the ship than at least himself.

He wasn’t going to keep dong this, and that meant returning to the ship right now.

Something moved out of the corner of his eye.

He slowed the jet. Turning his head to look out the canopy. The nebulae to the side of him shifted and billowed.

That was… very strange. This was space, things didn’t move unless something…. Moved them, and since there were no wind currents.

He was about prepared to go in after it when he stopped himself. No, not this time. This time he would do it the right way. 

He engaged his comm, “Harbinger this is Alpha 1 do you copy.”

“Copy Alpha 1, are you alright, over”

“Harbinger, I am fine, but I am seeing something really weird.” he gave his coordinates, “Can you get any radar reading off of that.”

There Was a pause in conversation as he continued to watch the cloud billow. He thought he saw something hard and sharp protrude from the mist before fading back.

“Alpha 1 standby, we are picking up…. Something in that area,”

He squinted out at the darkness and thought he saw the dust cloud before him light up and then fade as if illuminated from within.

He fired the wing thrusters and pulled the jet to a standstill, or the point where he was only getting a couple of inches of drift.

“Harbinger send out a scouting squad on my six see if we can’t get a closer look.”

“Copy, preparing Bravo flight team over, out.”

He let the line idle as he squinted towards the dust cloud. He would have liked to get closer but knew he shouldn't. He had been more than reckless enough for one day. The cloud continued to billow, and he was sure he could see an inner illumination brightening and then darkening over again.

It was about fifteen minutes before, “Alpha 1 this is bravo team incoming on your position, over.”

“Copy bravo.”

“The other three jets pulled up around him idling on either side. Looking out one window he thought he could see the dim green illumination of someone’s dials.

“You seeing this, straight ahead.” 

“Copy that commander, something in the clouds.”

“Yeah…. What is that.”

He adjusted his hand on the stick, “Move in slowly and spread out.”

He took down the middle while the other two rolled to the side. The interior of the jet was getting rather cold, so he allowed the fusion engine to idle as he coasted forward on the wing thrusters.

The light inside the dust cloud was becoming more apparent white but tinted blue.

They were right up to the edge of the dust field now and the occasional puff of dust would erupt from the cloud and dissipate into space. It was strange, this cloud seemed thicker than normal. Most nebula only looked the way they did because it was from a distance, but once inside them it was almost hard to tell, but this one…. Well this one was thick. Thick enough that the particles were being displaced by something.

“Anything.”

“No, the cloud is too thick.”

He rotated the engine downwards and tried floating himself upwards to see if he couldn’t get a better look inching a little more towards the cloud. And that is when it began: a massive mushroom of dust bulged out from the cloud and then erupted outwards, raising his eyes skyward towards the blackness, he watched as a massive shape roast upwards bringing with it a glowing white illumination.

He gasped nearly choking on his own air supply.

The comms were dead silent  

The creature continued to rise from the fog its massive head and long neck arching down from the billowing cloud to stare directly into his soul. 

There was nothing around him but dead silence, and his face illuminated by the head of the creature staring down at him blue scales glittered in the light above as white light filtered about between the cracks. Its face was regal and predatory crowned with two pointed horns, its eyes glowing softly in the darkness, and it was massive, its head alone was many times larger than his jet.

As he watched the creature arched slowly upwards and then down into the cloud.

A rolling wave of dust passed over his aircraft pushing him back slightly into a slow drift.

He could see a dim shape in the dust, a white illumination. As the dust cleared the creature appeared again.

The scale was unfathomable as it could have wrapped it’s body around the harbinger if it wanted.

Staring in disbelief he watched as it snaked up into the darkness and arched it’s back where two twin tarps of white billowed.

As he watched the strange folds stiffened from graceful billowing tarps and flared out into massive white wing-like structures at its sides. As it did this it began to move forward approaching him and the three idling jets at his back. Around its neck thousands of glittering ribbons undulated and curled, but as he watched the ribbons moved, and he could finally see the other small creature curling around it’s neck its scales shimmering with a soft silver light ribbons trailing from it’s back like a starborn.

The huge creature paused its body slowly curling and uncurling in tight loops as it floated. The blue of its scales undulated and warped like the waves of a great ocean, the light that filtered through the cracks in its scales dimmed and then adjusted as it’s body rolled

Its body stretched high above them and plunged thousands of feet below.

Again it turned it’s head glowing eyes resting back upon the group of three small jets.

Slowly it extended its neck.

The head was bigger even than he had thought before.

Colossal, cosmic.

He felt as if it was staring straight at him.

A god of the stars.

And then with a sound like echoing thunder, his head vibrated with a sound no others could hear, “Deus.” 

***

Commander Vir and the three pilots stumbled from the cockpits of their jets and onto the deck. It seemed as if the entire crew had gathered there. All three men were breathing hard white and shell shocked at what they had just seen.

Adam lifted his head stumbling on the last run of the ladder.

His eyes scanned the crowd, falling on where Sunny waited concerned on the edge of the crowd.

He stumbled towards her and to where a good portion of his officers stood.

She caught him by the shoulders.

“Adam what happened?”

“Space dragon.” He muttered 

The crew recoiled in surprised confusion.

“What?” Sunny asked confused and concerned.

The other two men behind him nodded, “Space dragon.”

-

A couple of extra things I wanted to say that you may or may not be interested in.

I want to tell you the strange yet interesting story of how I came to this because it isn’t what you might expect, and you may be interested.

When I first introduced Sunny, she was sort of an, on the spot, creation. I had not thought of her previously, and I really hadn’t thought about her place in all of this. Of course, as she got popular, I kept her on, and she became an integral member of the crew.

Then of course the shipping started the Adam x Sunny hounds.

And honestly I thought it was laughably stupid. Aliens and humans not in any shape or form!

But it did give me an interesting idea that brought on the LFIL. I knew that that is how humanity worked, and I thought it would be an interesting topic to address. I will be honest with you, at first I didn’t personally agree with it. I didn’t think it was right for aliens and humans to be together, but I wanted to represent a side of the argument that I didn’t agree with because that is what good writers do, they represent outside of themselves. So I put Adam close to those people, made their plight sympathetic, and over time I experienced a strange change where I found myself rooting for them. The story didn’t change, but I did.

I know it isn’t a real issue, but it was still fascinating to watch.

Then the shipping started again, and I laughed and rolled my eyes of course people on the internet would do this. I consulted with my roommates, and I was like, you know what for fun I am going to ship tease these bastards for all their worth, but of course Sunny and Adam will never be a thing.

So when I started I intended to make you all suffer and never make this a thing. I remember laughing with my roommates at your speculations telling them about how I had the internet wrapped around my finger.

One thing you should know about me.

I am sick and tired of relationships defining book series. Every other book I have ever written (there are nine of them) none of the characters ever got together except to develop nice friendships. I was so sick and tired of characters being written specifically to be made for each other, to cater to each other’s needs and to fill a role. I hate shipping characters, and I don’t like when they end up together, and that is generally my stance.

So I continued to ship tease, giving you hints that could be something or nothing and planned on backing away eventually. In fact, I planned on never telling you at all, but then as the LFIL arc went on and my teasing grew more malicious, something else happened. You know how I hate characters that are specifically made for romantic relationships? Like the author forces them together despite sharing nothing?

Well by ship teasing these characters so hard and never intending them to be, I created a natural environment that allowed for a realistic, non-forced interest to appear between the two of them. They weren’t made for each other, in fact I was trying to keep them far apart, but it seemed as if I ended up ship teasing myself so hard I accidentally made them naturally perfect for each other.

I ship teased you all so hard that I caught myself, an avid anti-relationship writer into believing it.

I knew for months how I felt, but I didn’t want to do it because of my earlier stated stance, but the more people talked and hounded and the more I spoke with my friends, the more I realized I was going to have to take a stance one way or another. I waffled over it for ages and ages, tried to come up with other satisfying ideas and alternate pathways, but nothing seemed right.

I considered bringing in another female human, but then simply realized I was doing the one thing I hated, and that was creating a character for the sole purpose of being a love interest.

I am a writer who hates to have a cast that is too large, and even this is a bit out of my comfort zone. I don’t want to bring integral characters on this late in the game. If it wasn’t someone on the ship, Adam would never meet someone…. Ever, but unfortunately for me I wrote a character who I think needs someone. In essence, I am not going to write someone for the sole purpose of being a love interest.

Take Adam and Sunny by themselves, and they stand alone because they weren’t written for each other, but somehow it worked.

I know some of you might be disappointed, and I fully understand you, and I am sorry. Any other day, I would be angrily on your side, but not today. Take comfort in the fact that I avidly opposed this from the beginning but am now resigned.

That being said, I don’t know how this is going to turn out, I have no future in mind and I don’t know where it is going to go. It could work and it might not, but one thing is for sure, this isn’t going to be easy, this isn’t over, and you all are going to continue to suffer by my hand.

Also this isn’t a romance novel, this is an action sci fi series about space, and that is what it is going to be about. I REFUSE To let this nastiness take over my plot line! 

Furthermore just because you admit you like someone doesn't make you a couple, so lets also make that clear.

Sincerely,

A confused Author who accidentally ship teased myself into a hole and now cannot get out

Sincerely, Sincerely 

An author who feels like a grumpy but supportive parent

[giggles-and-freckles]

define ‘attachment’

read on ao3

while the dads esteemed Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker--wait for Ahsoka to wake up, they talk about attachment, worry, and that time Ani caused an accidental security breech at the Temple.

“Pacing circles is not going to wake her any sooner,” mused Obi-Wan, quietly closing the door behind him.

He continued walking up and down the length of the bed, as if he did not hear Obi-Wan at all.

“Anakin.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

Obi-Wan offered a small, knowing smile. “You’re worrying too much. As usual.”

“I’m not worrying.” he said quickly, defensively, his shoulders wrought with tension.

“Sit,” instructed Obi-Wan, motioning to the small chairs in the corner.

Anakin sighed in frustration, but obeyed none-the-less.

“You should get some sleep,” suggested Obi-Wan, studying his former Padawan as he dropped into the seat across from him. “She’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Anakin snorted derisively. “I know that you of all people didn’t just try and tell me to get some sleep.” He shook his head incredulously. “Do you even do that anymore, old man?”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “I sleep.”

“Going to your room and working on mission reports all night long doesn’t count.”

Obi-Wan waved him off, ignoring the dangling bait for yet another argument about how, truly, neither of them got the rest they needed anymore.

“She looks dead,” Anakin said simply. It had never stopped being jarring to Obi-Wan how straightforward Anakin could be without noticing his own lack of social prowess. Ever since he was a boy, Anakin had a particular way of saying the blunt things with no regard for the intake from others.

“Well, thanks to you, she isn’t,” Obi-Wan pointed out evenly.

Anakin frowned. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You told her how to beat them. She only knew about rupturing the coolant system because of you.”

Talking with Anakin was so often like this, these days. Obi-Wan would speak, but it was more like coaxing Anakin to say the things that Obi-Wan had already said.

If he were being honest with himself, he should have been asking Anakin exactly how he had managed to get the information about the coolant system from Poggle the Lesser. He and Luminara had spent hours with the Geonosian, but he’d never uttered a helpful word. Then, Anakin walked in and came out of the room ten minutes later with valuable intel.

But if he were being even more honest with himself, there was a reason Obi-Wan avoided this question.

“I should have been there,” said Anakin through gritted teeth.

“You had no way of foreseeing the situation. It should have been a run-of-the-mill supply run. Your Padawan is more than capable of handling that.” Obi-Wan glanced over at the small bed holding Ahsoka’s unconscious body in it, his lips twitching to a small smile.

He hadn’t had a chance to spend any significant time with the girl, but he had already made up his mind to change that as soon as they all got back to the Temple. She had something burning and illuminating about her.

Obi-Wan had plenty of experience handling volatile objects, but if Anakin was fire itself, Ahsoka was a sun. She had that same intensity and kinetic danger as her Master, but Obi-Wan saw a deep desire in her to use it for the good of the galaxy around her, to help grow and guide it.

“I couldn’t do anything,” Anakin said, helplessly, watching his clasped hands in his lap.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear,” began Obi-Wan gently, “but as your Padawan grows, you’re going to be able to do less and less.” He withheld the sad smile that played at his mouth, unwilling to make this moment about him. “You must teach her as much as you can while you can. Ahsoka was prepared for this trial because of the lessons you have already instilled in her.”

Anakin pulled the glove off his artificial arm and began fiddling with the metal at his thumb, as he so often did. Obi-Wan looked away, pushing away the forced reminder of the time he had learned how powerless he truly was to protect his own Padawan.

“I want her to be safe,” said Anakin quietly.

“I know.”

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan. “How did you deal with me for ten years? ”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “It’s amusing that you think it ends when the Padawan gets Knighted.”

Anakin offered an appreciative smile and returned to fiddling with his hand. “I’m not like you, Master. You know me...I’m not good at the...attachment thing.”

Obi-Wan bit his tongue from snarking back about the real issue concerning Anakin being too good at the ‘attachment thing.’

How many times had the Council requested Obi-Wan specifically talk to Anakin about his disregard for the Code when it came to attachment? And how many times had Obi-Wan balked, wondering if it was actually Anakin’s greatest weakness or greatest strength?

Of course Mace Windu and Yoda could ask Obi-Wan to have those conversations with his Padawan; they’d never experienced the euphoria of Anakin Skywalker choosing them over a tight principle or expectation.

Raising Anakin had made Obi-Wan doubt his own competency with the Code’s edict on attachment.

“You’re not expected to abandon your Padawan or cease caring,” Obi-Wan fell back on the words he had told Anakin so many times already in the few months since Ahsoka had joined their lineage. “You have to find the balance in between it all.”

“You make it sound easy.”

Obi-Wan heard the tinge of resentment in his former Padawan’s tone and tried to ignore the way it made his stomach twist. He wasn’t exactly sure when his existence had started to irritate Anakin, but he’d sensed the tension growing in small doses between them since the beginning of the Clone Wars.

“Then you misunderstand me, my friend,” Obi-Wan shook his head in an attempt to make Anakin see that he struggled, too. “It is incredibly difficult. But the freedom of your emotions being disconnected from your personal relationships is a rewarding one.”

Or so Obi-Wan had been told.

“But how can you have personal relationships without emotions?” Anakin was growing frustrated, rounding back on this same argument they had had so many times before. Obi-Wan became more tired every time.

“Not without emotions,” Obi-Wan corrected for the hundredth time. “You are simply responsible for being mindful of them.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Anakin snapped, slumping in his seat.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, resisting the urge to chastise Anakin’s blatant disrespect for the Jedi Code. He had to choose his battles these days and this wasn’t one he wanted to engage in. Not when there were two unconscious Padawans in the same room.

“Our next orders came in,” said Obi-Wan, trying out a new thread of discussion.

“Oh. Is that what you came in here to tell me?” asked Anakin, looking apologetic. “Sorry I burdened you w--”

“Never a burden, Anakin,” Obi-Wan held up a hand to stop his former Padawan’s ramble, offering an earnest smile. “I came in here to check on you.”

“If you have things to do, you should go do them. I’m fine.”

“Someone can be fine and still enjoy company, yes?”

“Yes,” Anakin nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”

“You know,” Obi-Wan began, settling deeper into his chair, “your first solo mission wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, either.”

“Nope, no way,” Anakin shook his head fervently, smiling none-the-less, “this is not an invitation for storytime.”

Obi-Wan grinned, unclipping his lightsaber from where it was poking him in the side and laying it on his lap. He was just getting started ; may as well be comfortable. “Ah, my former Padawan, how much you still have to learn. I don’t need an invitation to humiliate you.”

“Don’t I know it,” grumbled Anakin, rolling his eyes.

“Let’s see,” the older Jedi sighed wistfully. “It was slightly cloudy, no... very cloudy--”

“ Obi-Wan .”

“--and this young sprite of a Jedi came bustling into my room telling me he had received his first solo mission.” Obi-Wan sighed dramatically. “Now, imagine my surprise at this news considering I was the boy’s Master, yet had received absolutely zero communication about this.”

“It was a misunderstanding,” groaned Anakin.

“Hmm, so was the misunderstanding with the forged paper signed by Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Yoda ...or the Padawan delivering it to me?”

“I wish I was the one unconscious right now instead of Snips.”

“Because you wish Ahsoka to hear this story? Oh, no worries, Anakin. I have every intention of telling her this later.”

Anakin shot his former Master a rude hand gesture.

“The paper said that Anakin Skywalker was to report to hangar seven at ten hundred, misspelled by the way...that was my favourite part,” Obi-Wan smirked.

“ I had just started learning how to read Basic! ”

“Anakin Skywalker was to report to hangar seven at ten hundred to embark on an off-world mission with no company other than the astromech known as R2-D2,” quoted Obi-Wan. “So, of course, I rolled out of bed and packed your bag for you because who was I to disobey such legitimate orders from the Council?”

“You were cruel.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I was bored.” he corrected. “Now this part of the story always trips me up. Was it you or your droid that set off the hangar alarms?”

“Neither. It was you when--”

“No,” Obi-Wan shook his head. “I only checked the flight reports and saw that there were no departures scheduled for hangar seven. Since you had orders directly from Master Yoda, I knew that it must be the flight reports that were wrong, so I simply did a manual override--”

“Yeah, setting off the alarms.”

“Oops,” Obi-Wan smiled, closing his eyes as he put his arms behind his head and reclined back.

“I don’t know how you have everyone except for me convinced that you’re some sort of Jedi golden boy. You’re a menace.”

“Master Kenobi?” a new voice interrupted the two men’s vocal spar.

Anakin and Obi-Wan stood up, quickly, bowing their heads toward Luminara.

“Obi-Wan,” Luminara nodded respectfully, “I was wondering if I might speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan re-clipped his saber, following her out the door. He sent a last glance over his shoulder toward Anakin.

“I’m fine,” chuckled Anakin, motioning for his former Master to continue to the hall. “Kix said she should wake up in a few hours. I’ll be here.”

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow.

“Sitting down. Not worrying,” he continued.

Obi-Wan smiled, closing the door behind him.

…

After Luminara had gone over the plans from the bridge to jettison and caught him up on Master Fisto’s inventory, he made his way back to the medical room holding Ahsoka and Barris. He gently pushed open the door, hoping to catch Anakin pacing again and preparing to poke fun at him for his worried antics over the Padawan he didn’t even want a couple of months ago.

Instead, Obi-Wan paused in the doorway, finding that, for once in his kriffing life, Anakin had followed not one, but two of Obi-Wan’s orders. He was seated in the chair as promised and asleep.

Of course, it wouldn’t be Anakin Skywalker without a liberal interpretation of orders and Obi-Wan couldn’t do anything but smile at the fact that Anakin had physically dragged his chair across the room to set it directly next to Ahsoka’s bed.

He appeared to have made an effort at maintaining sentry duty, but had ultimately been defeated, his body slumped forward onto the bed in front of him. One of his arms lay across Ahsoka’s waist and his head was completely buried into the bedding. Whether or not she had been conscious of it, one of Ahsoka’s hands rested on Anakin’s head, her tiny fingers woven into his curls.

Obi-Wan stood in the doorway for another moment, trying his best to commit the details of this picture to his memory, before he slipped back into the hall, a content smile on his face.

[eatsleepandsupernatural]

Saved - Chapter Eight

Saved Masterlist

Pairings: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Character Death, Angst, Character Resurrection, excerpts from 14x08

Word Count: 2,243

A/N: Hey! The following chapter does contain some aspects of the Supernatural episode Byzantium. I would like to just state that I do not own those particular paragraphs of this chapter or of course the characters (but we already knew that). You probably didn’t expect the chapter to go this way, it was my plan from the beginning because of an idea I had, can’t tell you yet. Anyway, hope you don’t mind and I hope you enjoy! XX

Tags: @akshi8278​ @goddessofmischiefs​ @flutistbyday2020​ @samsgirl93​

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

   Tossing and turning, surrounding yourself with your Alphas scent, no matter how hard you tried, you can’t sleep. Your thoughts are on Jack, the image of him collapsing on the floor, coughing up blood, is replaying over and over in your mind. He had quickly become your closest friend, keeping you company while Sam and Dean went on hunts. You had made a habit of sneaking into the ‘Dean Cave’, cooking up some popcorn and watching movies for hours at a time. The way Jack’s eyes fixed on the T.V like an excited puppy always made you smile. You had barely known him, but the memory of him passing away, his hand grasped firmly in yours, was overwhelming. 

   You shove the covers off and leave your room in search of Dean and some comfort. You had gone to bed once he and Cas brought Sam back safely after he had left the bunker, feeling the need for some alone time. Hours have passed and your need for your Alpha grew stronger every second. 

   You find him passed out in the kitchen, surrounded by empty glasses and half drunk bottles of whiskey, snoring louder than you had ever heard. 

   ‘Dean...Dean, you shouldn’t sleep here.’ You speak softly into his ear and gently shake his shoulder in an effort to wake him up. ‘Dean.’ 

   ‘I don’t think he’s waking up anytime soon, Y/N.’ You turn around to face Cas, who is watching you from the doorway. ‘Why are you awake?’ 

   ‘I never went to sleep, couldn't.’ You admit quietly, knowing what was going to come next, silently wishing it was Sam who had found you. 

   Cas glances between you and Dean before sighing and holding out his hand, ‘It would be unfair to wake him now. Come on, I’ll get you settled.’ 

   You place your hand in his and let him lead you back to your room, but you don’t make it easy for him, dragging your feet along the way. There is no hiding the fact that you are frustrated with him, with everyone. Jack is dead and they are still hiding things. You want to know why Jack was sick in the first place, and for how long. You want to know why, whenever you ask about anything supernatural related you are ignored. 

   ‘Y/N, what are you doing? Aren’t you tired?’ Cas asks when you pull your hand from his and take a few steps back to put some space between you. 

   ‘I am tired. I am tired of being kept in the dark. Did you ever think that maybe I would have been able to help Jack if I had known what was going on? He was my friend, and I lost him, and I don’t even know why. All you guys do is keep me in the dark for ‘my protection’, but one day, that’s going to come back and bite you in the arse. I may have been afraid of the idea of monsters being real when I first moved in, but I’ve seen Sam and Dean come back from enough hunts to accept that truth now. I’m ready to fight, to help. Dean, he is never going to let me near a gun. I need you to let me help, teach me to fight Cas, please.’ 

   Cas stares at you, surprised by your outburst. He frowns for a moment, deep in thought, before approaching you slowly. ‘I’m sorry you feel that way. I will talk to Dean.’ 

   You roll your eyes at his response and slouch your shoulders. ‘Like that will do...Hey!’ 

   Cas cuts you off mid sentence, grabbing you around the waist and placing two fingers to your forehead. ‘Go to sleep Y/N’

   ‘Y/N, wake up,’

   ‘Omega.’ A firm hand on your shoulder and the smooth voice of your Alpha draws you from a peaceful, deep sleep. Your eyes meet Deans tired ones, the bags sitting below them prominent. 

   ‘Morning’. You sit up against the bed head, accepting the glass of water Dean offers you. 

   ‘Afternoon, actually.’ 

   ‘Stupid Angel.’ You grunt, making Dean chuckle softly. 

   ‘I had an interesting conversation with Cas this morning.’ He informs you, turning serious once again. ‘He told me you had trouble sleeping, went for a late night stroll.’ 

   ‘Didn’t realise that was something I wasn’t allowed to do.’ You shoot back. You aren’t sure where the attitude is coming from, but you are sick of Dean’s Alpha behaviour. 

   ‘I didn’t say that.’ He speaks quickly, eyes scanning your face in an attempt to read your thoughts. ‘But he told me what you spoke about, and I’m sorry. Truly. My intentions were always to keep you safe, and in doing so, I’ve pushed you away. And you’re right, chances of you holding a gun in this lifetime, or any other lifetime are pretty small. But you’re also right, that I have been letting the Alpha in me control my actions, and I have been unfair to you. If you believe that you are ready, you can be put on research duty. That means books only, no knives, no guns, no ghosts. We got a deal?’ 

   You stare at your Alpha with wide eyes, shocked and disbelieving. Dean stands up from the bed and smiles down at you, ‘You coming? You might want to get dressed. We have a guest.’ 

   You take a few minutes to compose yourself, washing your face and brushing your teeth in the basin, before getting dressed and leaving your room in search of the others. 

   The library is not how you left it last night, furniture has been moved to the side, and Sam and Dean stand next to a table in the middle of what looks to be a very intense discussion making you pause at the door and hide behind the wall, you decide waiting out the conversation is the best idea. 

   ‘Use the soul-sucking magic? Boy, that lady’s a peach.’ Dean’s tone of voice surprises you, and you realise this was one of the things he was trying to hide from you, his hunter side.

   ‘Listen, we talked about this.’ Sam interjects.

   ‘I know. Gotta happen. It’s the only way. Right. But I don’t like rolling the dice on some psycho ex-angel killer.’

   ‘I don’t love it, either, but taking risks, making crappy deals--that’s what we do.’

   ‘Yeah, and they usually bite us in the arse.’ You smile at Dean’s choice of words, remembering what you had said to Cas last night.

   ‘So, what do you want to do about it? Leave Jack in the morgue? Burn him?’ That’s the moment you realise that they were planning to do something about Jack, to try and bring him back. You had heard snippets of conversations before, you knew that both Sam and Dean had died at least once. 

   ‘I didn’t say that.’

   ‘Because, for me, not doing this--that-- that would be like letting him die all over again.’ At Sam’s words your heart almost breaks all over again and you struggle to hold back tears. 

   ‘I want Jack back, too okay? I do. I just don’t trust Lily. Especially with my little eavesdropper.’ 

   If you hadn’t had that conversation with Dean ten minutes ago, your heart would have dropped to your stomach. You straighten your back and peek around the doorway with a small smile on your face. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt.’ 

   Dean rolls his eyes but waves you over, and you reach him the same time Cas comes up the steps looking more than stressed. 

   ‘You got a twenty on Jack?’ Dean asks, eyes pleading for a yes.

   ‘Not exactly. Angel Radio is playing a distress signal.’ 

   ‘Awesome’, He replies, letting his arms fall, surely mirroring his disappointment. 

   ‘All of Heaven’s gates are open, even the ones that Metatron closed.’

   ‘What could that mean?’ Sam asks.

   ‘I don’t know but it’s not good.’

   ‘More awesome.’ Dean says, making you reach out and grab his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

   ‘All right, well you go. We got Lily. When we’re ready, we’ll pray.’ Sam says, hoping that the solution will be enough.

   Cas shares a look with Sam and Dean before walking away and to do whatever he had to do. 

   ‘What’s going on?’ You ask, turning back to face the two Alphas.

   ‘We may have a way to bring Jack back. It’s risky, but we figured it’s worth a shot. You can hang around for now, but if I need you to leave later, you have to trust me. We’ve never done this before Y/N.’ 

   You are tempted to argue but something in Sam’s eyes makes you change your mind. He is watching you carefully, eyes wide, pleading with you to reassure Dean that you’ll listen. 

   ‘Got it, just tell me to go make myself some lunch, and I’m gone.’ As soon as you see Dean’s entire body relax you know you have made the right decision and Sam shoots you the biggest smile, to which you respond with an eye roll. It’s as if they don’t believe you can behave. 

   ‘Alright, hand me that glass bottle would ya?’ Dean gestures behind you as he moves to fiddle with some paint and a bowl on the table. 

   You pick it up, inspecting the clear liquid inside before handing it over and you and Sam watch as he pours the liquid in and stirs the paint around. He picks up the bowl and holds out a piece of paper for him to copy from and you watch in awe as Dean expertly paints a large symbol on the wooden floor. 

   ‘The instruction manual’. You had been watching Dean so closely you hadn’t heard the footsteps of another person approach the three of you and you jump away in shock as she hands an old leather-bound book to Sam. 

   ‘It’s alright Y/N,’ Sam reassures you before turning to face the older woman who you assume must be Lily gives you a questioning look before turning back to Sam. ‘Thanks. All right, we’re almost set. Just got to get one more thing. I’m gonna go grab it.’ He says, he gives you a second reassuring smile before walking off. You watch him go, as he does, he grabs Dean’s attention and nods in the direction of you and the strange woman. 

   Dean puts the bowl and brush down on the ground as he stands up and walks towards you, watching where he steps. He gives you a quick smile before addressing Lily.

   ‘You know, I think we got off to a bad start. Um, I guess I should be thanking you.’

   ‘Apology accepted.’ You frown at Lily’s response and her attitude towards your Alpha, but you stay quiet, unwilling to test any boundaries on the first day. ‘Are you going to introduce me?’ 

   ‘Uh, right. This is Y/N, my mate. Y/N, this is Lily Sunder, an old...acquaintance.’

   ‘Nice to meet you.’ You nod from your corner with a small smile, not a fan of strangers. Lily was a beta, but she gives off a weird vibe that makes you uncomfortable. 

   ‘There, you’re acquainted, great. Except, something’s been bothering me. Uh, you know, if this magic of yours is so great...why’d you stop using it? You’re letting yourself get old. You’re letting yourself die. Why? Why risk going to hell if you don’t have to? There’s something you’re not telling us.’

   You raise your eyebrows at Dean’s words and look to Lily, waiting for her answer. Is this magic too risky to use on Jack? 

   ‘When Ishim took my daughter, I swore I’d kill him, even if it meant burning my entire soul. But it didn’t. I have a sliver, a whisper of my soul left.’

   ‘And?’ Dean prompts, getting impatient.

   ‘May--my daughter, my little girl--is in heaven. And if there is still a piece of my soul...Now do you understand?’ 

   You are deep in thought when Sam comes back carrying a box filled to the brim with candles. You watch as he places them down at different points on the symbol like he had done it hundreds of times before. 

   ‘Sweetheart.’ Your head whips up at the sound of Dean calling from the other side of the room, breaking you from your thoughts. ‘Why don’t you go make yourself that lunch we talked about.’ You glance back over to Sam who’s already looking at you, one eyebrow raised, a reminder of your promise. 

   ‘I was getting hungry anyway. You know where I’ll be if you need me.’ Sending your Alpha one last long look before making your way to the kitchen. 

   You take your time, deciding to make a pasta salad, one of your favourite home-made dishes from before your parents became alcoholics. 

   Twenty minutes later, one potato salad and a cup of tea, your curiosity gets the better of you. You quietly make your way down the hallway and poke your head around the corner to see Jack sitting up on the table saying words you don’t understand, Sam and Dean standing either side of him. 

   ‘Was that my soul?’ He asks, looking up at Dean.

   ‘How do you feel?’ Dean queries, his hands hovering over Jack as if he is expecting something to go wrong. 

   ‘Good. I feel...good.’

   Sam smiles as Dean gives Jack a quick hug.

   ‘It’s good to have you back’, he says with his hand resting on Jack’s shoulder. 

   You are about to join them when you notice Lily sitting in your favourite chair, umoving.

   ‘Lily, thank you,’ Dean speaks from beside Jack. 

   ‘Yeah. Lily..’ Sam’ voice is halted when he sees Lily. 

   ‘Lily?’ Dean calls once more but there is no response. 

   ‘How about Jack and I go back to his room, I can help him get settled?’ You ask tentatively from the door. 

   The Alpha’s turn to face you faster than you thought possible. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ Sam asks, his lips twitching as he tries to hold back a smile. 

   ‘Long enough. I got bored.’ You smile at Jack who slowly turns around to meet gaze.

   Dean rolls his eyes at your excuse for leaving the kitchen but keeps his opinions to himself all the same. ‘You wanna hang out with Y/N for a bit Jack? We’ve got some clean-up to do.’

   Jack nodded, ‘I like the sound of that,’ he says getting off the table and making his way over to you on wobbly legs. 

   ‘I’ve changed my mind, why don’t we break into Dean’s room instead.’ You suggest, wagging your eyebrows at him in excitement.

   ‘Can we watch Star Wars? I like that one.’

   ‘Jack, we can watch anything you want.’

[yootaesowlwrites]

Fishing Weekend - Seokjin

Banner: Pictures and gifs belong to their rightful owners, the banner was made by me.

Requested By: No one

A/N: This is just a thing I wanted to write, cause I like seeing Seokjin fishing, also, I think the ending is a little... ???, I don’t know, but yeah.

Warnings: Fluff, Mentioning Of Alcohol, Fishing, mention of (Y/n) having a rough past.

Word Count: 4 154

(Y/n) and Seokjin has known each for a while now, it’s only been five months since they’ve met, and they were both still learning more about each other, but there was one thing he didn’t know about her, yet, he didn’t even think that she would like it, so he never brought it up, until one late lunch afternoon when he mentioned he wanted to go fishing.

“I might not be around this weekend,” Seokjin says as he picks up his glass filled with water, (Y/n) had mentioned early on in their friendship that she wasn’t comfortable with alcohol, but she had told him that he can drink it if he wants to, but he had refused, saying he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, even though she did tell him that it was fine.

“Oh, why is that?” (Y/n) asks as she placed her phone down on the table. “Are you going somewhere?” He takes a sip from the water and placed it down on the table.

“Yes, I’m going to go ask Suga if he wants to go fishing with me.” He says. “I haven’t gone fishing for a while.” She nods her head while moving her hands together on her lap, picking at her nails.

“Well, if he says no, I can join you.” She says, she could feel her heart rate picking up at her suggestion, she had spoken before thinking about it first.

“I didn’t know you know how to fish.” He says, his eyes slightly bigger than before, the information surprised him. “Why didn’t I know this?” She could hear the excitement growing in his tone.

“Well, I don’t necessarily know how to use a fishing rod, but I have caught with my hands before.” (Y/n) says, she reaches for her glass of water. “But I could still keep you company if you want to go, and he can’t.”

“No, no, you’re definitely going now, I don’t believe that you can catch one with your hands.” He says. “I need to see it for myself to believe it.” She softly giggles before taking a sip of her water. “I’ll come and pick you up Friday afternoon, we’re going for the weekend.” She nods her head and placed the glass down on the table. “Pack something warm also, it might get cold.”

“All right, text me when you’re coming to pick me up, so I won’t keep you waiting.” She says.

✧･ﾟ: *✧

The next few days quickly passed by and soon it was Friday afternoon and Seokjin had come to pick her up, the drive to the lake took three and a half hours to arrive, the sun had started going down when they arrived which meant they had to figure out how to put the tent up quickly before they ran out of daylight.

(Y/n) unfolded the instruction manual before putting it down on the ground and placed a water bottle on top of it, she approaches Seokjin as he was putting some parts together.

“So, I have no clue what the instructions said.” (Y/n) says as she picks up a pole, Seokjin begins to chuckle before bursting out in full laughter, he ignores the poles he was holding to slap his knee, (Y/n) smiles as she hears his wiper laugh. “Laugh all you want, we’re on our own unless you want to translate.” He looks up at her, his laughter slowly dying down, but the wide smile never leaving his lips.

“If I translate it, do you think it will help us?” He asks as he puts the poles on the ground, she nods her head.

“It will help us a lot more unless you want to have fun struggling.” She says. “Imagine the story you’d be able to tell when we go back.” He thinks for a moment before picking up the poles again.

“Please bring the instructions closer.” He mutters causing (Y/n) to giggle, she walks back to where she had left the piece of paper and picked it up, she takes it to him and waits for him to read through it. “I’m only reading it because it’s going to be dark soon, and it’s not going to be easy to put up the tent when it’s dark.”

“Let’s pretend I believe you.” She says with a smile on her lips, she could see his nose wrinkling as his smile widens before it faded as he started to read through the instructions, she looks around them, taking in the tree’s that surrounded them and quickly noticed the bathroom building not far from where they were setting up camp, her gaze falls onto the lake and saw the water moving a little as the wind gently blew.

“All right, I think I understand.” He says as he puts the piece of paper down. “I’ll try to explain.” They had only brought one tent, one big tent that would have enough space inside it for both of them to move around in it freely, (Y/n) saw it as their first official sleepover, but still felt nervous, It would be the first time they would be alone in each other’s company for an entire weekend, sleeping with… well, not with each there, but near each other inside the tent.

It took them a few hours to manage to put it up, but it was finally standing, even though it took them a while and daylight became more scarce, they managed to finish it with enough light still remaining, they decorated the floor with thick blankets and laid the sleeping bags on them, both of them disliked the idea of camping beds, (Y/n) being scared it would break or fall over when she turned around, and Seokjin saying they were uncomfortable, which resulted in them buying tons of thick blankets for the tent floor, so it wouldn’t feel too hard when they would be sleeping.

They step out of the tent only to discover it was dark outside, the only lighting was coming from the tent and the light they had turned on when it became too dark, Seokjin walks to his car, well, he had rented an SUV for the dirt road, he moves to the rear of it and takes out some firewood, (Y/n) quickly makes her way to the car and takes out the camping chairs.

“I’ll make the fire, so we can cook dinner.” He says. “I’d offer you fish, but we haven’t caught any yet.” (Y/n) playfully slapped his shoulder, which made his let out a dramatic scream. “Ow, ow, you abuser, ow!”

“Oh, shut it, you dramatic kid.” She says with a smile on her lips trying to keep herself from giggling, he smiles and takes the wood to the spot where he would be making the fire, she walks towards the tent where she would use the light to put the chairs together, a few minutes later, the chairs were set up and the golden fire was crackling, they set up a table and Seokjin begins preparing their meal for the night while she assisted him.

“Is this your first time camping?” Seokjin asks, glancing at her before focusing on the food spread on the table, she places the salt closer to his reach.

“In a tent, yes, but my family and I used to go on a vacation for a week, sometimes two weeks, and it would be in the middle of nowhere, you had to make a fire to make your food, and had to use camping chairs to have a comfortable place to sit, otherwise your bum would have been so sore.” (Y/n) says, briefly remembering the times when she used to do that. “We’d be completely cut off from the world, no signal, no television, you only had a radio, and it sometimes didn’t work.”

“What did you listen to on the radio?” He asks as he picks up the knife to cut the meat into tiny pieces. “When it did work.” She smiles, letting out a breathy chuckle.

“Stories.” She says. “We mostly listened to it at night, and it was mostly bedtime stories.” He smiles as he listens to her story. “I actually used to run around the fire when I was younger, with a toy, imagining that I was riding a horse.” He chuckles and looks at her.

“Did you have a toy horse with you when you did that?” He asks.

“You know those stick horses?” She asks, he nods his head before he begins laughing.

“You rode a stick horse?” He laughs out, she nods her head. “I should’ve brought one along and asked you to re-enact it for me.”

“Oh, well, thankfully you didn’t.” She says, he shakes his head and looks down at the food. “Do you want some water or did you bring yourself something to drink?” His lips slightly purse before he puts the knife down.

“I told you, if it makes you uncomfortable then I won’t drink in front of you.” He says turning towards her. “And we’re alone out here, It would have made you even more uncomfortable, even on edge if I brought something alcoholic along.” She softly smiles at him, thankful he didn’t bring anything, she was already nervous with being alone with him for the weekend, and if he had bought some along, it would have been more obvious to him that she was nervous and anxious. “Just some water for now.” She nods her head and goes towards the car where the drinks were.

“I’ll bring the icebox and take it to the tent.”  She says, he quickly leaves the table behind and joins her at the car.

“Let me help you, by now the ice could have melted, and it might be heavier.” He says as he takes one side, he knew not to tell her that he will take it himself, she would argue and take it himself, so he let her take the other side, they pick it up and carry it towards the tent, they step into the tent and placed the box near the opening.

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to, it didn’t feel that heavy.” She says as she opens the box.

“I wasn’t sure, but teamwork makes the dream work.” He says making her smile, she takes out three bottles of water and closes the box. “And what we just did, was teamwork.” She hands him two bottles of water, knowing one would be used for the food.

“Okay, teammate, let me know if there’s anything else.” She says and steps out the tent leaving him behind smiling to himself.

✧･ﾟ: *✧

They woke up early the next morning, the night became colder than they had thought and Seokjin had ended up moving his sleeping bag closer to hers and wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm, he didn’t want to admit it yet, but it felt like he had slept better during the night, if it was because he was tired or because he held (Y/n) in his arms, he wasn’t completely sure, but when he woke up, she was already up and missing from the tent.

He slowly stood up, bringing a hand to his face to rub the sleep from his eyes, he steps out of the tent and felt the cold morning hair hit his face, he looks around, seeing a fog blanket covering the lake with a soft glow from the morning sun just rising, he steps back into the tent and takes out a bottle of water from the icebox before going back outside, he smacks his lips together as he opens the bottle.

“Look who’s awake.” (Y/n) says as she approaches him, he takes a big gulp from the water as he turns around to look at her. “Sleep well?” He closes the bottle and nods his head, her eyes move to his hair, seeing how messy it looked and smiled.

“Where did you go?” He asks, his tone still groggy from the sleep.

“Bathroom, I had to pee and get dressed, oh and shower.” She says, she steps into the tent to put her sleepwear back into her bag along with her toiletries. “You should wake up before we miss the opportunity to catch some fishes off guard.” She steps out of the tent, and he looks at her, she could see how sleepy he still was.

“Are you really going to catch a fish with your hands?” He asks. “In this cold weather?” She nods her head

“Yes, I have a point to prove.” She says. “I’ll meet you by the lake when you’re ready.” She walks past him and approaches the lake, he turns around to follow her movement before he goes into the tent to retrieve his clothes and toiletries before going to the bathroom building, (Y/n) didn’t keep track of time as she stared over the lake at the fog slowly disappearing as the sun moved up higher, the golden glow slowly lighting the world.

Seokjin walks up behind her carrying two fishing rods and a box filled with bait, he places everything down on the ground and steps up next to her, he looks over the lake before turning to look at her.

“I brought an extra rod if you want to learn how to fish with one,” Seokjin says, he nods her head and turns to look at him, a playful smile on her lips.

“Rods are for cheaters.” She says, his lips part at her words.

“I... wha… why… you.” He stutters, unable to form the correct words. “How could you say that?” She giggles while shaking her head.

“That’s what I believe, but they’re also not easy to use.” She says. “So it’s not completely cheating, I just don’t like them that much, but I will support you if you want to use one.” He shakes his head and begins to laugh.

“You’re something, definitely something.” He says, she steps out her shoes and bends down to roll up her pants. “You don’t have to prove your point, I believe you.”

“You’re just saying that, so I don’t go into the water.” She says. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” She stands up and begins approaching the water.

“You really don’t have to.” He says, but she ignores his him and steps into the water, her lips part as she felt cold water touches her skin, he watches her before stepping out of his shoes and rolled up his pants, he quickly follows behind her and steps into the water. “AHH, you’re crazy!” She chuckles as she turns around to look at him.

“I’m the crazy one?” She asks. “You’re the one that followed me in.” She carefully turns around and moves in a little deeper before stopping.

“Because I didn’t want you to feel alone in this situation.” He says as he follows her before stopping next to her. “But this is cold, freezing cold, how can fish survive in this?!” She giggles as she listens to his tone, it almost sounded like he was rapping as he ranted.

“Shh, you’ll scare them away.” (Y/n) says.

“Scare them away?” He asks. “They’re probably already frozen.” She bends down a little before being her knees, she looks into the water. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, let’s get out.” She suddenly pushes her hands into the water causing him to jump, she giggles before standing up.

“Come on, we can warm up a little later, for now, let’s catch some fish.” She says. “If you can try to at least catch one, I’ll let you teach me how to use the rod.” He thinks for a moment before nodding his head.

“Deal.” He says and crouches down with her, they look into the water, patiently waiting, she slowly reaches into the water, letting her hands get comfortable in it, even though it felt freezing cold, she wouldn’t allow that to stop her. “How long will we be waiting like this before trying to catch one?”

“A few minutes.” She says. “Just wait.” A few minutes passed when she managed to spot a fish, she quickly moves her hands towards it, grabbing for it, her hands wrap around the tiny fish only for it to escape her hold, Seokjin had barely seen it happen, but his eyes had slightly widened.

“Whoa… that was close.” He quietly says. “Okay, a few more minutes, but then we’re getting out.” She nods her head, even though she wouldn’t leave until she had caught one, a couple more minutes passed when Seokjin lets out a sigh and stood up. “Okay… I’m tired, come on, let’s go, please.”

“You can go, I’ll be right there.” She says, her focus was on the water below, watching carefully, the water was a little clear, but not completely, she could easily see a fish if one would swim by, but not her feet, he turns and begins walking back to the dry land when he hears a splash behind him, he quickly turns around, thinking the worst.

“(Y/n)!” He says loudly only to see her slowly rising up. “We can try again later, I promise.” He was about to turn away until his eyes fell to her hands, she slowly pulled them from the water to reveal a small fish in her hands. “What?” He runs towards her, not caring if the water splashed on his clothes. “What?!” He stops in front of her and exiles the small fish. “Oh… Oh, YOU DID IT!” She releases the fish as she sees him coming in for a hug. “Okay, I believe you, I believe you can catch fish with your hands.” He held her close against him, his soaked clothes pushed against her dry ones.

“YOU’RE WET!” She yells as she feels the coldness of his wet clothes against hers, he quickly releases her, an apologetic look on his face.

“I’ll make it up to you later, now come on, let’s get out of this freezing water.” He says, his hands falling down to her hands, he takes hold of one of her hands and guides her out of the water. “Let me go get a towel.” Once they reached dry land, he made his way to the tents and went inside to find a towel, while she smiled to herself for managing to catch a fish with her hands once again.

“I still got it.” She whispers to herself before seeing Seokjin running towards her with a fluffy towel in his hands.

✧･ﾟ: *✧

After drying off and going for a change of clothes they returned to the spot and Seokjin prepared the line for her, he handed her the fishing rod and moved to stand behind her.

“All right, so you want to hold it like this,” Seokjin says as he moves her hands to the places she needed to hold it, his hands covering hers as he guides her. “And go like this when you want to throw the line.” He moves their arms to the side, slowly motioning what she had to do, she nods her head, trying to let the information sink in. “Just with some force and more speed.”

“Okay… Okay, I think I understand.” She says, he lowers his gaze and sees how close he was to her before it dawns on him that his arms ere wrapped around her, he steps away, quickly unwrapping his arms and felt his ears turning red, her focus was on the lake in front of them and on the rod in her hands. “Um, I think I’ll only disappoint you like this.” She turns to look at him. “Why don’t you fish, and I’ll watch, bring drinks or snacks when it’s needed.” She carefully extends the rod out to him, and he takes it from her.

“You wouldn’t disappoint me, you caught a fish with your hands, I doubt I’ll be disappointed if you can’t with a fishing rod.” He says, she softly smiles at him.

“Still.” She says. “I’d rather watch you have fun with it.” He gently smiles at her. “Oh… and why are your ears so red?” He touches one ear with his hand, feeling how warm it is from the blood rushing to it. “Are you cold?” Although she knew why they were red, they only turned red when he was embarrassed, but the last thing she wanted to do was embarrass him more.

“You know why they turn red.” He says as he turns away from her. “But thank you for trying not to point it out.” She steps closer to him and placed her hand on his forearm.

“You can tell me, but you don’t have to.” She says, he glances at her. “I’m going to go get something to drink, I’ll bring you something also.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧

(Y/n) walks towards Seokjin after going to the bathroom, he stood by the lake looking over it, they had stopped fishing earlier in the day and decided to prepare lunch and rest.

“I’m going for a walk, it looks so beautiful here, and I just want to see a little more of it.” (Y/n) says as she comes to a stop behind him, he spins around to look at her.

“I’ll come along.” He says and steps towards her. “At least if you get lost, we’d get lost together.” She chuckles and shakes her head.

“Lost? This isn’t exactly a big place.” She says.

“You never know.” He says, they turn towards a direction and slowly begin walking along the lake, the sun was slowly lowering as it prepared to set for the day. “You didn’t have to come along on this trip.”

“I know, but I wanted to.” She says.

“Are you having fun?” He asks, if she wasn’t enjoying herself then he would know that this trip was a waste of time for both of them probably, although, he felt like he had grown closer to her in the last twenty-four hours, has something had changed, what could have changed? His feelings? His thoughts?

“I am, I haven’t enjoyed myself this much in a long time.” She says. “It’s been years since I last tried to catch a fish with my hands.” He gently smiles. “And coming for a walk like this to see nature, It’s usually on a beach, but here is just as beautiful.” He suddenly stops, and takes hold of her hand, pulling her to face him, he pulls her closer to him and wraps his arms around her.

“I know you had a rough past, but I want you to know that I won’t judge you for it, your past doesn’t define you.” He says as he slightly pulls back from the hug to meet her eyes, his dark brown eyes stare into hers. “I want to be the person you come to when you want to open up, or need a shoulder to cry on… or just company, comfort.”

“Where is this suddenly coming from?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper, it was both his feelings and thoughts that had changed, but when did they change? Was it on this trip? Or did the trip just make him realize?

“It isn’t sudden.” He says. “I believe it’s been a while, but I just need you to know, I want to be that person you feel comfortable with.” She could feel his hands moving from her back to her arms. “To feel comfortable enough with to share your secrets with, to share your dreams with, even those fantasies that you think could be stupid.” His hands move up to her hair, gently patting her hair down. “You don’t have to share immediately, just know that I’m here.” He leans closer, before softly kissing her forehead.

✧･ﾟ: *✧

(Y/n) couldn’t shake Seokjin’s words from the afternoon, and the more the thought about it, the quicker she realized that he must have felt the shift also, in their feelings for each other, but that couldn’t have been true… could it be true?

Seokjin lays down in his sleeping bag and stares at her, she had been lying there for 30 minutes staring at the fabric wall until he had laid down in front of her.

“Nothing’s going to be the same when we get back, is it?” She softly asks, he lifts his hand and softly brushes some of her hair out her face.

“Nothing has to change.” He says. “Nothing at all, except our friendship status.” He leans closer. “Unless you don’t want to change that either.”

“Slowly.” She says. “Let’s move slowly, please.” He nods his head.

“As slow as you would like.” He moves closer before pressing a soft kiss against her forehead. “Relationships take time to build, to form, and we can take as much time as we want.” She softly smiles before moving closer to him, his arm moves around her, his heat enveloping her.