#but im solid enough. i think i can manage.

[orcelito]

Went to bed 3 hours early and still slept up to my alarm

At least I no longer feel like my body is made of wet tissue paper...?

[abirddogmoment]

would you do bird hunting with Aurora given the opportunity? (I dont follow anyone who does hunting with their dogs and it would be interesting to see!)

I'm back and forth on it honestly. Ideally yeah, I'd love to give her the opportunity to hunt and be fulfilled that way. But there are a couple of things I'm struggling with:

I don't have access to training birds myself, nor the knowledge (or desire) to go at training her seriously alone.

Most gundog trainers (incl. my local brittany person who's been helping me out) expect you to go all in, birds should be your priority over all else (including general good dog manners).

Currently, pointing dog training in North America tends towards "make dogs bird obsessed -> introduce gunfire -> reign in the dogs so they're steady". The problems with this (for me) is that I don't want a bird obsessed dog at all and I don't want to use the pressure expected/required for "reigning it back in".

I had a really demoralizing experience trying to learn more about shotgun sizing and I'm not keen to try again.

So in conclusion, maybe but probably not to a serious extent.

[diningpageantry]

haaaaiiii guyyyyssss (gn) probably gonna be on here more often again soon. life events occurring. have occurred? still occurring, i suppose.

i'll probably post abt it more in depth at some ltr point, still in the very early stages of some stuff. i dont want to classify them as positive or negative things, however they're certainly things.

there's a lot of thoughts in my brain (hah), and ultimately i want to share them, but for now this is kind of me waving at everyone with a smile while my life has an "under construction" sign

[mejomonster]

Ridiculously depressed but I am running ragged (which is surely worsening the depression ToT) so like the idea of weekly therapy to further exhaust me and trigger the anxiety more doesn't sound super compatible

[clonewarsahsoka]

I've just had such an awful fucking time

[arolesbianism]

Starting a new oni save that's not a rime colony for the first time in forever and I am in agony how do y'all live like this (shaking and crying as it is forced to enter a mildly warm area for drekos)

[eggyrocks]

bruised part thirteen -> lonley

m.list

♪ now playing: simulation swarm by big thief ♪

Everything feels like shit.

Her arm fucking hurts. Her head fucking hurts. There's this solid block of led settled in the bottom of her gut and an aching in her chest. The abundance of 'get-well-soon' flowers crowded into every inch of free space makes her eyes water and nose run.

It sucks. It all fucking sucks.

She's lying flat on her back on top of her unmade bed, one arm wrapped up tightly in a sling, the other holding her phone above her face, scrolling through her feed, eyes straining to read every single thought strangers on the Internet have about her.

It's sort of strange, in a way, to see herself dissected and discussed in long threads and discourses and forums. She's always been a quasi-public figure, her face on grainy screens and niche corners of the Internet. But her recent virality due to the brutality of her injury and sharp bluntness with the press is something new.

And that sucks too.

Her instinct is to take a screenshot and send it to Iwaizumi. This is an instinct she has to bite back.

She's torn up over him. In a way that’s worse than usual. She wants to yell at him more. She wants to make him feel bad for the way that he just abandoned her out of nowhere with no proper sort of explanation. She wants to shake him until he tells her what changed and why he can't even talk to her anymore. Why he decided she wasn’t good enough for him anymore. She wants to rage and spit and bear her teeth.

She also wants to apologize. To tell him that she doesn't want to fight with him and that if he wants things to change than things can change and it doesn't bother her (even thought the thought of it makes the corner of her eyes prick). She wants to appease and plead and do what it takes to have her friend back, in whatever capacity he can manage.

Instead, she does neither.

It’s lonely.

Her free arm falls to the side, flopping against her bed. She lets her phone slip out of her hand. It's lonely. The people behind her phone screen pick and prod at her like she's a thought experiment and not a person. Her friends coo at her pitifully and retreat when they realize they don't know how to talk to her anymore. Iwaizumi acts in ways she doesn't understand, and makes her feel like he's someone she doesn't even know.

It's lonely. She blinks up at her ceiling. The sentiment echoes. With the Olympics out of the way, it's all she can think about. With her goals disintegrated and the one true love of her life ripped from her grasp for the foreseeable future, it's all she can think about.

It's lonely.

fun facts!

im back early <3 even tho this chapter is extremely short but i just needed to get back into it okay im just dipping my toes in the pool water that is bruised before i jump in

yn's manager wanted to hold a press conference to show that she was doing well post injury and would be ready to come back asap

it backfired

kyotani has never been prouder of yn that when she told the reporter that asked abt her body to fuck off

yn has not been talking to her friends a lot, has mostly just been hiding out in her room

she's mostly just talking to bokuto and kyotani. they talk to her like normal and it makes her feel comforted

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @hikikaimar @needtoloveoutloud @rinheartshyunlix @makkir0ll @cr4yolaas @k8nicole @cannibalsrider @bookworm-center @causenessus @frootloopscos @ekeio @michivrse @phoenix-eclipses @hermaeusmorax @milkwithspiceyicecubes @anonnreader777 @mehreya @kmwife @rrosiitas @riousluvs @zhonglism @ryeyeyer @faesix @milesmoralesluvs @bae-ashlynn @um-no-ok @kozuskitten @ncthourss @ms-downhill @bellamsby @karasyuu

[proqhetic]

I'm so happy you're back!! I missed your yj posts on my fyp :(

could you write lottie x reader where they're at a party and the reader is tipsy, begging lottie to give her kisses, and lottie is just trying to put her to bed, thank you <333

a/n: i’m gonna cry dani ilysm😭😭 i got a bit carried away with this so im sorry if it seems kind of choppy 😥

the loud bass blaring from the speakers across the house was starting to give you a headache. you were a couple drinks in and the booze was just catching up to your system, swirling all your thoughts into one big whirlpool.

it’s been a long night of talking to random people and singing along to chart toppers from about 5 years ago. right now, you just wanted to find your girlfriend, really badly. you lost lottie at some point earlier in the night when she was pulled away by one of the other yellowjackets to play a drinking game with the rest of the team, and you hung out with some other friends from school.

navigating the sweaty, rowdy crowd was just awful. you were pretty sure this was practically the entire student population from your school, crammed into jeff sadecki’s stupidly big house. after squeezing past a couple rooms, you finally set your eyes on a familiar head of brunette curls.

you stopped in the doorway and watched on as lottie was zoomed in on an intense game of beer bong. she made that face she does when she’s concentrating — eyebrows furrowed, biting her bottom lip, the slight squint of her eyes. you couldn’t help but smile from the sidelines as she aimed the winning shot, and of course, she made it. a mixture of groans and loud whooping filled the room, as lottie happily turned to her teammate, shauna, and gave her a solid high-ten.

despite not drinking anything else, you somehow feel giddier than you did 5 minutes ago. but connecting the dots would’ve required too much brain power. instead, you stumble over to lottie and wrap her in a warm hug from behind. “congrats, babe!” you wish her with a grin, speaking louder than you thought you were in your head.

lottie yelps but an immediate smile appears once she sees you. “hi baby!” she greets, pulling you in for a chaste kiss, before her face contorts into a grimace. “oh, god, you smell of booze. how much have you drunk?”

lottie wasn’t typically one to drink a lot at parties, she wasn’t a big fan of the taste of beer. chances were you’d catch her smoking something instead.

“uhhm, like, just a bit…” you slurred out with an airy giggle, to which lottie groaned (affectionately). “i think you’ve had enough, we should get going soon, okay?” she said, pulling you aside by the arm. you whined at that, not wanting to leave so early. “nnooo, lottieee…” “come on, let’s get you sobered up a bit.”

whilst the two of you were walking to the kitchen hand in hand, you tried tiptoeing to give lottie another kiss, only to trip on an armchair in front of you and lose your balance. thankfully, your girlfriend has an insane reaction time and managed to catch you. “are you okay?” she hurriedly asked, pulling you up. “wanna kiss youu…!” was all you said with a cheeky smile. “no kisses until you’re sobered up!” lottie spoke firmly and you pouted the rest of the way there.

she pours you a glass of water and tells you to drink up. “mm, kiss first?” lottie rolled her eyes at how persistent you’re being, but eventually caved and gave you a peck on your cheek. “that’s all you’re getting. now drink up and we can leave!” content with what you got, you obliged and drank everything.

a moment passes and both of you stay standing, leaned against the kitchen island. lottie reaches over to brush your hair with her hand, strands getting entangled between her fingers. you turn to look up at her with your best puppy dog eyes, begging her once again for a kiss. “pleaseee, i’m not drunk anymore…” however, she was strong-willed enough to shake her head. “let’s get you home baby, you gotta rest.”

the drive back to your house was a comfortable silence, until you started mumbling along to the song on the radio, extremely out of tune. eliciting a laugh out of lottie made you grin and filled you with a sense of pride, that same giddiness overwhelming you

“alrighty, we’re here.” she announced as she parked the car. she hurriedly got out and came to the other side of the car to open your door and help you out. (you’ve proven several times that night that walking in a straight line would be a challenge.)

reaching your doorstep, you realised lottie would have to leave soon, and she’s only properly kissed you once. “do you wanna, maybe stay the night? my parents aren’t home and… i could use the company,” you asked, your fingers tracing up and down her arm. lottie’s face grew warm at your request, “really? i-i mean, yeah, of course!”

lottie’s hand reached for the doorknob, but you stopped her. “wait!” she turned to look at you, her big eyes widening in confusion. “can i have my kiss now?” you asked one last time. “pleeasseee?”

the corners of lottie’s lips quirked upwards as she let out a soft giggle. “fine, since you’ve been so patient with me tonight,” she murmured as she cupped your cheeks and finally gave you that kiss you’ve been yearning for all night. you instantly melted into it and rested your hands on her shoulders, pulling her in even closer

“there.” lottie said breathlessly as you two pulled away for air. you felt lightheaded and just stared back at her, dazed. “now let’s get you to bed.”

[honeytonedhottie]

the tea on self love⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍵

the most important relationship that you're ever going to have during your lifetime is the relationship with yourself. its the longest relationship that you'll ever be in, therefore its crucial to make this relationship flourish.

first understand ; love is unconditional. theres no such thing as conditional love, if its conditional then it is NOT love. that means regardless of past mistakes, your love for yourself is still there and its still strong. the love for yourself is the only love that will always be there. because people change and they come and go, but you're with yourself ALL hours of the day, and forEVER.

because people change, you cannot rely on the love of others all of the time. the love that u feel for urself shouldn't decrease just because your surrounded by individuals who love you a lot. if anything ur self love should grow, but never shrink.

its easy to grow dependent on the love from others, your friends, family, partner.. but the truth of the matter is, if ur self love isnt solid and grounded then when that person inevitably changes or grows or leaves ur life, then you perception of self love will crumble.

practicing self love ; start asking yourself "how i feel today" or "what do i need/want today" be more conscious of urself and ur feelings, just as you would if u were being thoughtful and considerate to a friend or partner that you loved.

do not EVER speak badly about yourself. even in a "joking" manner. bcuz guess what, ur brain can't tell the difference between when ur joking and when ur being serious. your words have power!! the same love and support that u provide to ur friends when they've made a mistake is the same, if not more, support and love that u should give urself when u make mistakes.

often times we beat ourselves up over mistakes that we make but thats not healthy at ALL. make ur mind a peaceful, beautiful, and safe place to be, where u can cultivate ideas and growth. instead of a place where ur walking on eggshells all of the time bcuz ur scared of imperfection.

make a promise to yourself that regardless of how u feel or what happened in ur life, that you won't talk badly about yourself. only tell yourself good things!!

be conscious of how you treat urself ; are you considerate enough of ur own health or well being? if the answer is no, then what are you even doing? treat urself with tender love and care. if you feel tired, sleep. if you feel hungry, eat. if you long for something, give it to yourself. dont deny yourself anything and please please look after yourself.

ways to show yourself love depending on ur love language ; if u dont know ur love language, take this quiz ✨ and find out.

if ur love language is physical touch...

try yoga

take a bubble bath

buy a weighted blanket or one of those pregnancy pillows

if ur love language is receiving gifts...

go on solo trips

investing in yourself

buying gifts for urself when u go out

if ur love language is words of affirmation...

practice gratitude

practice saying ur affirmations out loud to urself

give yourself compliments

if ur love language is acts of service...

practicing self care

meal prepping meals that u know u love to eat

clean and organize ur space

if ur love language is quality time...

go for a relaxing walk

start journalling

try meditation

have some quiet time and replenish yourself, take a long nap, do whatever u need to do to show yourself that YOU LOVE YOU, bcuz u should 🫶🏽

the mindset of someone who loves themselves ;

"im going to give my body the best that i can possibly manage"

"my body is a temple, so im going to treat it as such"

"im going to be conscious of what i say and think to myself about myself, and only feed myself good thoughts"

[shipperofunderratedships]

GIRLIE I AM BEGGING YOU FOR SOME JONSHI HEADCANNONS, they are everything to me!!

Yesss anything for bestie

Ok so i have a lottt im writing them in two parts: (also excuse any grammar mistakes pls)

1. Kenshi only lets Johnny guide him around or check his eye wounds. He hates pity from other people but knows Johnny just wants to help him so he agrees to checkups.

2. Once they’ve confessed to eachother, Johnny invites Kenshi to live with him in his mansion. The other agrees and they pretty much share everything (the house, clothes etc) from now on.

3. Kenshi actually gets jealous very easily when it comes to Johnny since Johnny is famous and well known for his flirty playboy persona. He sometimes feels he’s not enough.

4. Therefore Johnny dulls down his flirting almost completely once they’re together because he doesnt want Kenshi to worry or think like that.

5. They’re both protective of eachother but surprisingly Johnny is more protective despite him being a normal human and Kenshi having a magical weapon and being an ex member of the Yakuza. If anything even seems to bother Kenshi he loses the funny calm attitude and tries to fix it or fight it.

6. Whenever they both stay at the mansion but Johnny has to leave somewhere, he leaves sento near Kenshi for him to find. But when they’re both home Kenshi prefers having Johnny to guide him in case he needs it (he can do very well by himself after a while of them living together).

7. People from Outworlds are very surprised when the find out they’re a couple, except for Liu Kang.

8. Johnny makes sure to regularly groom Kenshi or fix his appearance as the swordsman never cared about it that much. He does enjoy the attention from Johnny though.

9. Johnny often spoils Kenshi with different gifts, meals, anything that makes him enjoy life despite being blind. He even gives him one of his pairs of sunglasses to wear instead of the bandana when they go out on Earthrealm.

10. Kenshi is an amazing listener and gives really solid advice and support. Whenever he notices Johnny is upset he manages to calm him down by using a more gentle demeanour. While they can both get overly emotional at times, usually it happens to Johnny and Kenshi is always there for him.

11. Johnny is always the little spoon.

12. They switch but Johnny mostly tops.

13. Johnny shows his affection through gifts and flirting and Kenshi shows his affection through touch.

14. The trait Kenshi likes most about Johnny is his pure confidence and optimism despite his lack of powers. The trait Johnny likes most about Kenshi is his honour and bravery despite his lack of sight.

[mondaymelon]

— 𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 ♥

:feat~ alhaitham, kaveh x gn!reader:

⤷ modern!au, just fluffy headcanons

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu @solxima, psps come get your sumeru men ♡

What's a date with them like?

ALHAITHAM - Study dates ♥

Haitham's the boyfriend who... well, to put it simply, doesn't know how to act like one.

Doesn't really when or how to take initiative most times, especially when it comes to the two of you's relationship... but it's certainly not all that bad.

He's a dedicated man. And it shows whenever he texts you...in the morning and in the evening, everyday without fail - little messages that just make you feel warm.

"Good night, love. Sleep well."

"It's morning, you didn't stay up too late, did you? Text me if you're out of coffee. I'll bring you some over."

So when he texts you about possible plans... well, he's mostly just thinking of it as an excuse to spend time with you! The two of you are busy people, after all, and Haitham has barely had the chance to see you, other than quick meetups between classes... and that is certainly not enough. :(

So of course you'd readily accept!

You'll likely meet up at the library, or maybe his place.

Haitham brings a large thermos of coffee that the two of you can share! ♥

Ah, but even with all that caffeine, you still can't help but feel drowsy... and when you do succumb to the slumber, all Haitham can do is stare at your sleeping form for a solid three minutes.

When he finally recovers rom his silent shock, he quickly drapes his coat over you, letting you lean on his shoulder comfortably.

Poor Haitham can't even focus on studying afterwards.... he's too busy studying your face, jus the slightest flush rising to his cheeks...

"They're beautiful." ♥

KAVEH - Going out for dinner ♥

The dramatic boyfriend whose a lot more compassionate than you had first thought...

Kaveh's a little... emotionally confused when it comes to the two of you - since he's never done anything like this before, but he tries his best!

Likely texts you every morning, noon, and night, asking you if you've eaten, and will scold you (affectionately) if you sad you haven't.

Kaveh also messages you at abysmal hows while working on architectural projects, occasionally just texting you keyboard smashes at 3 am - He always awaits your exasperated response in the morning, it's something that'll always make him laugh.

Ah, but that aside, Kaveh is broke.

Of course, when you're the one treating him to a meal, he's more than willing to join you. However, he still always insists on returning the favor stubbornly, otherwise he'll feel guilty about it afterwards. He doesn't watch to leech of your goodwill! :(

It'll take a lot of reassurance to convince him otherwise, but eventually he'll give in and let you cover the expenses.

...But still secretly tries to order dishes on the cheaper side - and gets mad if you do the same on the occasions where he's paying.

"Eh?? Darling, why're you ordering that one? Nonono, you should get this one instead...!"

And when you insist on ordering it, Kaveh will pout like a child, cheeks puffed out and everything.

"Huu... But I just want you to have only the best...!" ♥

(a/n) writing inspiration still on the low but hey at least im writing

[penny-anna]

i bought a flat this week.

was off work sick last thursday/friday with what turned out to be the beginnings of a bad cold but at the time i was just like 'oh no why am i so tired is this the return of the Mystery Fatigue'

let's backtrack for a second!! back when i had the offer accepted on my flat my solicitor suggested october 6th as a move in date and i was like sure that works (this was around the beginning of september). then i didn't hear anything from them for many days and then i started getting major dry eye problems that became all consuming so i didn't get around to chasing them.

anyway!! tuesday last week i get an email from my solicitor like 'hi are you still able to complete friday' and i did not have the headspace to deal with it so i didn't reply

Wednesday my solicitor calls like 'hi. we need to know if you want to complete friday'. i'm like 'actually i'm really not feeling well this week, could we postpone'. she calls back a few minutes later like 'they cannot postone'. at this point i'm still thinking that if i get a decent night's sleep i'll feel better so i tell her i'll deal with it in the morning.

Thursday i feel spectacularly worse. have to get up to go to an appointment with my optometrist. almost start crying in their office bcos i'm just so exhausted. (he seemed weirdly unfazed by this?? looking back i wonder if he thought my eyes were hurting or something and didn't realise that i was holding back tears gfhglj) call out sick from work.

plan is to take a nap and then look at the documents my solicitor sent over but she calls me again like 'hi. sorry to bother you i know you're sick but can we complete today' so i'm like ah shit ig we're doing this now. please walk me through exactly what you need me to do here. 'we just need you to send us the money'. yeah i can do that. i've never made a payment this big before tho.

(i'm buying w money inherited from my mother so even for a flat purchase it's an unusually large amount of money)

'oh yeah you won't be able to that online. *pause* are you well enough to go to the bank?' i am tired enough that going to the bank will suck but not so sick i cannot go to the bank.

i had gone fully back to bed. spurred on by sudden wave of adrenaline, get out of bed and dressed and get the bus into town to the bank.

my bank closes at 3pm weekdays and by the time i get that it's about 1:45. explain the situation. turns out that to make a payment this big you need a sit-down meeting with a member of staff and they are booked solid till 3. 'can you come back tomorrow at 9:30 when we open' *dying inside* yes. i can come back tomorrow at 9:30.

go home. remember that i'd told my manager that i'd call her at 9 to let her know if i'm going to be working (i will defo not be working & she knows this) which will be tricky if i have to leave at 9 to go to the bank. have a pretty interminable IM conversation via microsoft teams about this wherein i suggest i message her first thing and call a bit later and she isn't going for it. eventually agree to call at 9 just so i can end the conversation and go to sleep.

Friday morning end up calling my manager from the bus. get to bank. whole thing takes a full 30 minutes so yeah i can see why they couldn't fit me in thursday afternoon ghfdljkfhdj. i'm so so tired. they have to go over a whole fraud prevention statement with you. 'you should be aware that scammers can pretend to be your solicitor'. me, exhausted: okay what if just this one time. a scammer is pretending to be my solicitor.

make the payment. go home to sleep finally.

later in the afternoon get another call from the solicitor. 'hi we have the keys you can come get them whenever'. oh yeah i'd been so caught up in trying to get them the money i'd kinda forgotten about. actually getting the flat.

(side note at no point was i planning to move in on 'moving day', an advantage of being a first time buyer is that i don't have to & i want to redecorate the place which is easier while it's empty)

initially say i'll come in next week but then realise that ideally next week i'll be back at work (i am not but anyway) so i might as well go now. it's pushing 4pm so will need to head out ASAP.

eyes are very dry and itchy from sleeping all day but fortunately i just (on a recommendation from my optometrist) bought a thing called a facial sauna which is a very weird contraption but does work extremely quickly.

pack my eye drops and also a peanut butter sandwich to eat in my new flat (why not) and go get the keys.

arrive at the flat. on inspection realise that the envelope i've been given seems to contain the most random assortment of loose keys. eventually identify an actual set of keys.

put my key in the lock of the flat door. abruptly hear a cat meowing, somewhere very close by.

previous owner had cats (plural) (i know this bcos i saw them when i was viewing the place). have a sudden moment of panic that i've somehow wildly misunderstood the whole situation and that she and her cats are still in residence.

look down. there is a very large, very fluffy white cat standing next to me, looking up at me as if expecting to be let in.

'you can't come in. this is my house.'

make my first mistake: think that if i open the door i will be able to prevent the cat from entering.

cat goes straight on into my flat.

i'm now pursuing the cat from room to room saying 'hey! hey you can't be in here! this is my house!'. the cat doesn't give a shit for obvious reasons (it is a cat)

i might have considered just shooing the cat outside and shutting the door but have arrived at an IMO not unreasonable concern. cat seemed very determined to enter this flat in particular and is now roaming around as if looking for something. previous owner had multiple cats and moved out AFAIK today. i have heard stories about people accidentally leaving cats behind when they move.

at this point it's 4:55 on a Friday. call my solicitor and explain the situation. ask if she could pass on a message to the seller's solicitor. unfortunately they have already closed for the week so it will have to wait till Monday but she will do her best.

decide the next course of action is to see if the cat has any ID. the cat is wearing a harness & collar so might have a tag with an address. make my second mistake: pick the cat up.

the cat does not have any ID on the harness. the cat does NOT like being picked up. cat gets very squirmy and then begins scratching me. cat manages to break my skin through a hoodie.

i put the cat down. the cat hisses at me. this is very rude considering that it is in my house.

head across the landing to see if the people opposite are missing a cat or, failing that, know their neighbours well enough to recognise the cat. there's no answer.

however!! i hear a voice down in the stairwell that sounds like it could be someone calling out a cat's name. 'hi!! is someone down there looking for a cat?' no answer.

look down the stairwell. on the ground floor there is a very large fluffy brown cat wearing a harness. !!!!! that is my cat's friend!

retrieve the cat from my flat (fortunately it just follows me out) and head downstairs. am met partway up by the cat's owner.

'oh thank god is this your cat'. it is her cat. apparently she had opened her front door to let them out into the garden and it had wandered off. 'i just moved in today it came into my flat'.

she is very apologetic. cat is unrepetent.

go back inside. call my solicitor's office. 'hi was it you i spoke to just now about the cat' (I told 2 people about the cat) 'no i just answered the phone because it was ringing. what cat.' 'can you tell *solicitor's name* that i have found the cat's owner. she will know what you mean'.

problem solved!! time to eat my peanut butter sandwich. :)

[jjkeremika]

Hi, how you doing? I love how you write, so, csn iirequest some Zeke x fem!readerslight smut? Its been a while since i read something about him. Thank you ❤❤

hello, my friend ! thats so nice, thank you <3 you absolutely can request Zeke Jaeger x fem!reader light smut! i hope its okay.

here's what im thinking...

with Zeke, there's always some sort of implication. whether it be bland and simple, or soft and sexy--it was always there, hidden and exposed: a hanging question; an additional thread.

maybe it was in the look he cast you: stern apart from an insinuating brow; steely except in the swirling and suggestive whirlpools of his irises; stoic despite the flickering, mischievous fluorescent light off the glasses.

an unspoken suggestion revealed in the slightest twitch of his lip to an upward curve. in his lingering admiration.

"yn, shall we..." his deep voice was always steady and smooth, collected yet drawn out like an overplayed, hardy record. "move somewhere a little more..." his eyes ambitiously twinkled like the sun's reflection on wet snow. his tone intimately laced with an emotion no vernacular could relate. "comfortable?"

the expecting look, the feather touch of his cool fingertips against warmed skin, the soft sway of his beard as he spoke, as you couldn't take your eyes off his lips, as you swore he was leaning closer--as he tiptoed around the implication like an amateur intruder avoided spotlight.

imperfectly.

"like a couch?" a soft palm graced your exposed thigh, slid easily under the flimsy skirt fabric like it wasn't even there. he leaned close to your ear, the soft yet prickly facial hair barely brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck and cheek. "or maybe a bed?"

obviously.

Zeke pulled away slightly, allowed himself to indulge in the sight of your parted lips and astonished, accepting eyes. you stopped breathing as he hogged the hot air. your reflection boldly cast across the glasses. "just anywhere horizontal, really."

he smirked at your audible inhale, practically a choke. his hand twitched in a looming threat to tighten around the limb.

"why only horizontal?" you were capable of only shallow breaths, unsatisfactory to the indiscernible mess of emotions flooding your gut, caving into your pelvis. despite the intense blood flow, restrained the overbearing need to jump on him, you matched his locked gaze and managed out, "we can have fun vertically too."

you were entranced with the rapid dilation of his pupils, noticed the slight tension encompass his neck and shoulder muscles as he took a controlled breath.

the large hand stretched around your thigh and followed the natural curve, right to the intimate plush of a cheek that so easily contorted under his grip, so willingly accepted his outstretched palm.

the clasp of his fingernails into the fatty skin evoked a sharp exhale—distracted you long enough from preventing the air from desperately escaping captivity, from stopping Zeke from resting an arm against the wall and closing in.

he pounced at the opportunity, collapsed his forehead against yours and needily pressed his lips to yours. took advantage of your open mouth and dipped his tongue inside, licked around like collecting melting ice cream on a cone. dropped his second hand to your cheek, stepped in further and kept you close.

close enough to feel the heat radiating off his larger body, condensing into the tickling sweat along your hairline, seeping into the pounding vessels and arteries running through your body. close enough to feel his shoulders contorting over you, bending down to kiss you deeper. close enough to feel the solid, huge erection at your waist, to feel the throbbing pulse vibrate through the fabric against your abdomen.

Zeke’s second hand joined his other, quickly adapted to the home of your bum and suddenly swept you off the ground, roughly fell into the wall. you didn’t even notice the pain from the wall due to the adrenaline in your blood, because of the insistent grinding of your clothed clit against his hard erection as he rubbed you between himself and the paneling.

he kept his mouth on yours, swallowed every single gasp and sound like he was starved. muffled each moan like it was his dream occupation and he was gunning for a lucrative promotion.

your brain flicked through each feeling like a slideshow: the fondling and squeezing of his hands against your cheeks and upper thighs; the electricity and friction where your crotch met his; the sloppy and wet meshing of your lips with his; the cold and stubborn wall scratching against your hot and flexible spine.

the soft and quiet noises still flooded the room, concentrated into a building ringing in your ears deciphered into one simple word—easily summed up in a single desire. and with Zeke, it was always more. more and more and more.

[v-ternus]

Dedicated to @iamthecomet, who got me back into writing. Im the anon from your box a day or so ago. Hope you love the brain rot that you've elicited.

MDNI

18+ . t!Rain and Dew first time. (cunt, pussy, cock, dick, clit for what Rain has going on, and cock/dick for Dew).

Almost 3k and I dont know how it got this long. Idek how to really tag this. Its nasty, full of yearning. Dew takes good care of our boy.

If you see a mistake, no you didnt.

-Vee

“It’s puff, puff, pass dude. Not puff and hog it”. Rain chides, sending him a jokingly accusatory look. Dew takes one more long drag before handing it to Rain and telling him to finish it off. A warm silence blooms between the two, enjoying the cool night breeze under Omega’s tree. Dew, Aether and Mountain had planted it when he retired with Terzo. After a while, Dew is the one to break the silence. 

“Why don’t we do this more often? We have the time now that tour is done. I'm sure Mountain wouldn't mind sprouting some more of the good stuff.” 

Rain doesn’t answer. He knows why they can’t do this more often. 

Being around you makes my chest cave in. I have to force my eyes shut or I would never stop looking at you. Your full belly laughs when Swiss says something dumb gets my stomach tied up in knots. The way your chest rises and falls when we’re laying out on the docks rips the breath out of my lungs. The warm stare of your pale blue eyes is blinding. I love you too much. It hurts that I can’t tell you- show you. Being around you without telling you is an unimaginable pain. 

Rain can’t bring it up. He can't risk ruining whatever they have. And besides, Dew wouldn't want him. 

“—Rain?”

Rain is yanked back from space to Dew sitting up, leaning over him. He really must've clocked out. It takes a long second for him to notice Dew’s hand right on his chest. The skin underneath it is on fire. It's too much and not enough. He wraps his own hand around Dew’s wrist and it makes sparks run through his arm. He shoots his head back and takes a deep breath. 

“I'm ok. I think I'm a little too high. You shouldn't have made me finish it” Rain tries to joke, to offer up a convincing chuckle, but fails miserably. Dew doesn't believe him. He taps Dew’s hand, asking to be let up. He leans himself against the tree and Dew follows. 

The closeness makes Rain more lightheaded than the weed. He starts rubbing the edges of his thighs, focusing on the feeling of denim against his hands. The texture is calming when he’s high. He looks over to Dew— his head against the tree, the bob of his damn Adam’s apple, the lines that make up that dumb face, the slender neck he wishes he could hold. It’s all too much. 

Before he can even register it, he’s bringing his hand up. It finds itself on the back of Dew’s neck, with his thumb caressing the skin right behind his ear. Soft. Dew shivers and his eyes shoot open. Once he realizes what he’s done, he jerks his hand back. 

I'm sorry, I don't know what that was. I'm too high. I'm sorry Dew. 

It’s all he can spit out. He’s ruined it. It's all ruined. He’s upset him. Dew doesn't want him and now Dew is angry at him. Dew grabs his wrist and Rain waits in anticipation— expecting pain or a push. Instead, he's quickly brought up to his feet by a solid tug. 

“What? Dew I—“

“Just come on Rain”

It's only a short walk to the dorms, but it feels like eternity. Rain can only register pounding in his ears and the feeling that his heart is going to beat out of his chest. They get to Dew’s room, and the door is shoved open. Dew is the first to speak 

“Are you serious?” Rain manages to find anger in the words somehow. He’s expecting the worst. The reality of the situation has sobered him up and panic is creeping in. He can’t live with Dew being angry at him.

“I'm sorry Dew, really. Can we just forget it? I’ll stay out of your way from now on. We do—“

His ramble is quickly cut off by the wind being knocked out of him. Dew, in all of his small stature, has shoved him up against the door. 

“I really hope you’re serious Rain.”

Dew’s lips find Rain’s before he can register the words. It was fast, their teeth knocking and sending the smallest cringe through both of them. But none of it mattered. Rain melts, held up by Dew and the door. His hands find purchase on Dew’s waist— fistfuls of his shirt. And he’s pulled lower, deepening the kiss. 

It's messy, hungry. It's everything he’s wanted and more. Dew is sweet— he still tastes like the weed they just smoked, earthy and floral, but underneath it is Dew. Rain swears he tastes like honey, golden amber spilling out of those sly lips which are softer than whatever Rain’s imagination could cook up. He tugs on his bottom lip as he pulls away. He can feel Dew’s gasps, hot against his cool skin when they separate to actually breathe. But it’s not enough. He needs more. 

Rain steadies himself and pushes off of the door, it makes Dew take a small step back. The small step turns into a few more as Rain keeps moving forward. Dew finds himself being pushed towards the bed. His knees hit the edge and Rain gives a final push, knocking him down. He sits himself down over Dew’s legs, placing soft kisses along his jaw, working his way down his neck. The kisses get harsher the lower he goes, he hopes they leave marks. He sucks a little too hard at the base of Dew’s neck and pulls away to a mark already forming. Dew is just as wrecked as he is– his hair is a mess, lips are a puffy red from their kisses, and breathy moans are wrung out freely. They only serve to fuel Rain on more. He licks a stripe up to his ear, biting it, worrying it between his teeth.

Dew whines. 

Rain sits back and stares at Dew— all pink with blush as he registers the noise he just made. It’s adorable, for lack of a better word. He’s wanted to see this since he was summoned. He’s wanted to see the fire ghoul wrecked for him.

“I'm serious Dew. Im more than serious.” 

Rain leans back in for a kiss and Dew is happy to let him indulge. He lets Rain pull him in closer, even though they can't physically get any closer. He lets him loom over him, as far as he’ll go. Dew reaches for the hem of Rain's shirt and gives it a tug. A silent request. The only response Rain is capable of is a quick please before Dew is pulling the shirt over him. 

Dew grabs Rain by the face, placing a soft kiss to his forehead. He continues down– his mouth, over his chin, down the column of Rain’s neck. He dips down lower, kisses his sternum, and drags his tongue back to Rain’s collar bone. His teeth graze the sensitive skin where his neck meets his shoulders and he feels Rain shake from it. Rain weaves his hands up to the nape of Dew’s neck, tugging gently at his hair.

It makes Dew bite down, not enough to break skin, but just enough to drag a moan out of the water ghoul. Rain doesn't know if he wants to push his head off or pull him in closer. Dew follows what Rain did moments before and makes a mirrored bruise at the base of his neck— reflections of one another. 

“Beautiful. So beautiful for me. My rainbow.” Dew barely spits out his praise before Rain is pulling his shirt off and pushing him onto his back. Dew fiddles with his belt, struggling to get his pants off. Rain– impatient as he is– takes it upon himself to start what Dew couldn't. He steps off of Dew to finish pulling his pants off and moves to take off his own, along with his soaked boxers that get thrown somewhere. He’s dripping desperately and is back on Dew as quickly as he was off. He lowers himself and buries his head into the mattress. He groans and drags his wet cunt over Dew’s still clothed cock. He thinks he could cum just like this– haphazardly grinding against Dew, hearing his moans right in his ear. He mutters something in the crook of Dew’s neck. 

“Louder Rainy,”. Rain doesn’t repeat himself. Instead, he props himself back up on his hands, and grinds himself down harder onto Dew. His dick catches on the fabric but Rain bites back a whimper. The drag is intense. Dew finds his hips and pulls them down just enough that a high pitched moan escapes Rain. He can feel Rain soaking through his boxers, slick just warm enough over his hardened dick that it’s maddening. 

With his head down and hair falling over his face, concealing it entirely, Rain finally lets it out, he nearly chokes on it. 

I thought you wouldn’t want me.

He sounds so wounded, ashamed. Dew brings a hand up to tuck some of Rain’s hair behind his ear, finally cradling his face. Rain leans into it with his eyes screwed shut, afraid to look at Dew. He feels so small. 

“Oh rainbow—“ Dew could almost sob. The idea that he wouldn't want Rain makes his chest tight. He’s wanted this just as much, but this is Dew. He doesn't know how to ask for what he wants. He’d rather wallow in his misery than tell Rain all that he’s been thinking- afraid of the same rejection. Afraid of driving him away.

Dew runs his thumb along Rain’s lip, trying to think of ways to comfort him, to calm his worry. 

“Rain, look at me” Dew tries to sound as comforting as possible, not wanting to give the ghoul any reason to find malice in his words. “Please look at me,”. Rain angles his head up and opens his eyes just enough for Dew to see.

“Can I show you how much I do?” 

Rain chokes on his own breath. Dew flips them over, running his hand down Rain’s side. It leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake but he needs more. He wants to give Rain anything, everything. 

Dew runs his thumb over Rain’s hip, inches away from where he really wants him. It makes Rain throb, he’s getting wetter the longer Dew makes him wait. “Dew… please. I can’t do it anymore, please,” 

Dew gives a comforting squeeze right as he brings his hand down to Rain slick pussy. Dragging his fingers up and down his slit, he feels Rain get impossibly wetter. He slips a finger in and feels Rain clench and flutter around his digit. Dew wishes it was his cock. His wish makes him realize that he unfortunately still has his underwear on– that’ll change soon enough.

 “All this for me Rainy? You’ve got yourself all wet for me?” Dew punctuates his question by slipping another finger in. The stretch has Rain rutting against his hand, desperate. Dew makes the mistake of looking back at Rain’s face– lip caught between his teeth as he tries to hold back his noises, his palms dug into his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure as Dew works him open. Dew kisses under his jaw before readjusting himself, lowering himself to rest between Rain’s thighs. He pulls his fingers out and watches Rain’s cunt clench around nothing. Rain opens his mouth to voice his disappointment but is quickly silenced by Dew licking a long drag from his hole up to his cock. Rain’s back arches off of the bed. 

“Be good and let me hear you,” Dew gets his lips around Rain’s stiff little dick, sucking softly at first, testing him. Dew dips down again, lapping at Rain’s pussy before bringing his mouth back to his throbbing dick. He holds it in his mouth, he can feel how heavy he is against his tongue. Rain can only mewl, a litany of please and don't stop flowing from his mouth. His brain feels like it’s melting out of his ears with the way Dew is eating him out.

Dew slips his fingers back in and tongues at the underside of his cock. He feels more slick gush out, pooling in his palm and dripping down to soak the bed underneath them. His fingers curl and feel around, searching. Dew knows he’s found it when Rain’s legs clamp around his head, spasming from the pleasure. It makes Rain see white. Everything is driving him towards the edge, but this isn't how he wants it to end.

Rain reaches down and grabs under Dew’s chin. He brings him up and meets his lips and Dew removes his hand so he can steady himself. You wont be empty for long.

Dew hums and licks into his mouth, sharing the heady taste of his slick. Rain cradles his neck pulling him down further, he can feel Dew’s thrumming pulse. He drags a hand down, pausing over Dew’s pounding heart. Mine. He doesnt now where the courage came from, but Dew quickly ducks his head by Rain’s ear and whispers it back. “Yours, raindrop. Whenever you want. Forever.” It's a promise he makes as he roll his hips into Rain’s thigh. Rain ignores it for now and decides to drag a little lower to the silver rings adorning Dew’s chest. He tugs lightly, it earns him a gasp. He keeps thumbing at the reddening nub, toying with it. Dew moves back in to get his lips on Rain’s, to drown himself in his taste. Rain's hand reaches further, moving past the band of Dew’s boxers. 

He finally gets a hand around Dew’s cock and all he can feel is Dew shaking with anticipation. He’s hot, burning even, and heavy in Rain’s hand. Rain runs his hand down the length, giving a gentle squeeze to the base. Dew isn't quiet like Rain, not ever. So Rain touching him has him groaning into Rain’s shoulder. Rain brings his hand back up to swipe over the head and he feels Dew stiffen. 

“Take them off Dew,” Dew huffs and all but throws himself off of Rain, quickly pulling off his ruined boxers and throwing them towards the edge of the bed. Dew goes back in for a kiss, and Rain gets his hand back on his cock- twisting around the head. Dew is practically leaking, remnants of his water ghoul days. Rain drags his hand back down, spreading his pre over his length. Dew is larger than he expected, Rain feels a tinge of worry that he might not fit. Everyone thinks the small ghoul would be proportional, but they couldn't be more wrong in this division. 

“I need you Dew. Please fuck me,” Who is Dew to deny his pretty little siren? He centers himself between Rain’s legs, pushing his legs open wider. His pussy on display. He ruts his cock through Rain's wet folds, making sure to drag his head over Rain’s clit. Rain shakes with Dew’s little movements. He wraps his legs around Dew's torso and Dew picks up on the cue, finally lining himself up. 

He eases the blunt head in, hoping Rain is adjusting enough. By the sounds he’s making, Dew knows everything is fine. He slowly pushes in inch by inch, but the stretch is still enough to have Rain choking on his own breath. Dew leans down, “Almost there baby, just breathe. Such a good boy for me. You’re taking me so well.” His words make Rain dig his heels in and it forces his cock in to the hilt. The stretch is sudden, and it's harder for Rain to adjust, but he can only think of how Dew is reaching into him. Perfect. They fit together perfectly, molded for each other.

Dew starts with shallow thrusts, inching in and out. He wants Rain to feel it all. His thrusts get faster, more desperate, almost pulling out entirely before carving himself back in. Rain swears he can feel him in his stomach, with each thrust knocking a quick moan out of him. Rain starts meeting his thrusts, rocking his hips perfectly. Every thrust hits his G-spot and has him seeing stars. Dew brings his hand down, swiping his thumb over Rain’s cock. His eyes drag down to where they meet, where Dew is gliding into him. Rain feels his cock twitch in him. The lewd sounds of skin against skin fill the room. 

The speechless noise is interrupted by Rain. “Can I ask for something… please?” 

Anything Rainy, anything you want. 

He reaches down for Dew’s hand, dragging it up. Both of their hands rest around his neck and he squeezes Dew’s down against the sides, right under his humming pulse. Dew realizes what he wants and is dumbfounded, he thinks he’s dreaming, but quickly indulges Rain. He squeezes a little harder, and watches as the water ghoul’s eyes roll into the back of his head. Dew feels him clamp down harder on his cock. The tight and wet grip Rain has on him has him right on the edge. Rain taps his hand and Dew loosens his grip. “So good Dew, fuck– its so good.”

His thrusts turn into grinding his cock deeper into Rain, he manages to reach further and further with each roll of his hips. Dew tightens his grip again, just to feel Rain flutter around him.

“Close Rain, please... together?” Rain gives him a quick nod before reaching down to tug at his neglected clit. Dew steadies his hand on Rain’s neck for just a little while longer, just until his thrusts become a little less coordinated. Then he squeezes harshly, “Ive got you Rain, cum for me.” The gentle words prove to be his undoing, he goes rigid against Dew, cumming as he keeps fucking into him.

Feeling the coil tighten further, Dew is sent over the edge by Rain pulsing around him. He spills deep inside Rain as his aftershocks continue to wring him dry. He sags against Rain and wraps his arms against his waist, both of them sticky with sweat. Rain feels like a live wire against Dew.

He would be content to just lay like this for forever, listening to Rain’s heart as he comes down from his own orgasm, feeling his body against his. But he knows that they need to get cleaned up- especially Rain. 

They bask in each others after glow just for awhile longer, feeling each others breath even out. Dew is the first to find his voice,

“I wish you would’ve said something sooner,”

Rain places a kiss against Dew’s hair, and squeezes him closer. “Me too wildfire, me too.” 

[buckyarchives]

EARTHQUAKES CAN BE A FLIGHT RISK, TOO. [1/3]

modern obi-wan kenobi x female reader

w/c: 8k

!!!: obi-wan is referred to as ben. family trauma, jealous asshole men, anakin is dead and it comes up a lot.

heavily inspired by im with you by wkemep

ao3 / masterlist

“...ladies and gentlemen, can I please have your attention? We regret to inform you that the current blizzard in Chicago has delayed several flights… for more specific information, please go to the customer service desk for your respected airline assistance. We are sorry for the inconvenience.”

The airline speaker announces like a mantra to a less-than-pleased crowd at O’hare international airport. 

Watching as sun-kissed families that are more than ready to go home sit around barricaded by the feet of snow piling up on the floors, and behind and ahead of you people with permanent scowls as they come to the realization they'll be stuck in this airport for more than expected.

The line to the few customer service desks has loomed and looped around the place, from where you stand it looks like it never ends. You look forward and at the back of a pitch-black head of hair, a tall man in a suit taps his fingers on his leather briefcase and groans for the 10th time in the past few minutes, (yes, you're so bored you began to count). The snowfall outside was more of a blessing rather than a curse for you, you wear a small smile, completely unbothered by the long line ahead of you.

New Year's Eve is tomorrow, and tomorrow is your annual new year's party. 

Your friend group has done it since high school, it's like a sort of reunion, and the only thing keeping your friend group alive. It seems no matter how far apart or distant any of you've grown, everyone manages to make it back to this party. You’re sure some of the reason is for the fact the girl, your best friend, that throws it every year is absolutely loaded. You're less than excited to go this year, though.

A loud, stressed yell of a man in a tacky Hawaiian button-up makes your head shoot up. You'd been watching the family at the front desk for a moment now, the stress of the toddler whining and the teenager complaining has probably gotten to the father. You understand, yet it still doesn't give him the right to yell at the customer service attendee just doing his job. You shake your head in disappointment. 

“A bunch of barbarians.” is whispered with a thick accent behind you, loud enough to be heard but quiet enough to where it might have been directed at you. 

You think to turn around to find out, but you don’t and keep looking ahead at the father yelling and successfully keeping the line looping around the airport.

“Honestly, I can't tell if the yelling is more embarrassing or the absolutely disastrous excuse of a shirt he's wearing.” the man behind you comments and even if he isn't speaking to you, you can't stop the snort that leaves you unprovoked.

“The socks and sandals combo, I think,” you mutter back, hoping in lands. It does, a small breathy laugh comes from the man behind you. Smiling to yourself, you still haven't turned around, yet.

You do - instead - shift your eyes to the large windows. The world is covered with snow and the bright lights of the city. A dystopian feeling washes over you that you're sure only comes from being at an airport this late, or so early in the morning. Time is irrelevant in the sense you only need to know how long it will take you to grab gum and some caffeine while also being able to make it to your boarding gate on time. 

You snicker to yourself, accepting the fact you'd be completely okay with your flight being canceled or missing your boarding time. 

The line erupts into chaos, it happens so quickly. The Hawaiian shirt must have blown his top, taking a step back and causing a domino effect to the line. The businessman with no bits of patience falls back on you and before you can even get a yelp out, hot coffee pours down your sweatpants and solid arms brace your fall. 

The world moves on though, everyone's eyes don't stop looking annoyed, at their phones or flight board. The man in the Hawaiian shirt continues to yell, and apparently, so do you.

“Asshole! I spent a good 4 dollars on that!” you push yourself out on the arms of the mystery funny man behind you and barrel forward like a goddamn tank, you'd barely got a few spits out of that drink! Grasping at his shoulder to get his attention, the man whips back fast.

“You got your coffee on my shoes, you bitch!” his finger raises to your face, he's tall. You should feel intimidated but irritation blinds you and your rage doesn't stop your shouts.

“Me! You're the one with no sense of surroundings and bumped into me!”

“Listen here, young lady – “ he begins to step into your space, tower over you and fear suddenly washes over you. Flinching as his pointer finger waves around, you shut your eyes and an arm from behind you brushes past your shoulder. 

Blinking your eyes open, 5 fingers are spread out and pushing the businessman back, whose gaze is looking past you now.

“Please back off the girl, sir.'' His voice is stern, an interesting contrast to the sarcastic tone from moments ago. It sends a chill down your spine and you haven't even seen his face yet. 

Your eyes trailed from his hand down to his cream hoodie sleeve, slowly he steps in front of you and between the man. You notice his side profile, a large mole on his cheekbone and then the back of his sandy blonde hair as he speaks to the man.

“Do you know how much these shoes cost? Just for coffee to be spilled all—”

“I suggest you settle down, turn around or you'll have to argue about your cheap shoes to airport security,” he speaks with a stern, calm tone. “And with this layover, you do not want to be stuck in airport security.”

You're not sure if it was the threat itself or the intimidating aura this man suddenly gave off, but the businessman turns around with a stank in his eyes and a grumble leaving his lips. You're impressed, to say the least.

“Are you alright?'' The sandy blonde hair turns around once the threat is seemingly gone, his voice is less stern and replaced with a surface-level worry. You notice his eyes, they're piercing through you. 

Your fingers run down your wet pants, it's warm but bearable, not noticeable. 

“Uh, yes, I think so.” just startled and damp, you almost say.

“I'll get you another cup of coffee once we survive this line,” his Atlantic blue eyes dart from your hands to the head of the line, and then back to you.

“You don't need to, you weren't the one to bump into me.” you wave his offer off, “anyways, you did enough with that dude.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, with a surprising amount of concern in his voice for a stranger that literally fell into him.

“Yes, I'm sure,” you say, suddenly feeling like a deer in headlights as he stares at you. You reach your hand out, offering your name.

His smile catches you off guard, it's warm and reaches his blue irises, and the sides of his eyes crinkle. It's genuine and very, very pretty. 

“Ben Kenobi, it's nice to meet you.”

The line moves, thankfully, and you're reminded of the fact Ben had technically stolen your spot. He notices as well.

“Oh, dear. I’m sorry, I didn't mean to step in front of you.'' He gently pushed you in front of him, with a gentle hold on your upper arm. His hands are impossibly warm, you don't like physical touch, much less from a stranger at an airport. But this was okay. He coughs and you turn around, he might as well disappeared then, except for the fact his presence loomed over you to an uncomfortable extent. 

Time is still irrelevant and you notice how quickly the line begins to move now, the airport has seemed to get a grasp on the situation as the flight plan board begins to flicker with dots of green and another customer service worker starts a new line. You almost forget about your coffee-soaked pants until you begin to move to break off into a new line, conveniently having a suitcase full of clothes. 

The boy behind the desk looks barely eighteen, maybe just a babyface. Either way, you can tell the stress of the situation is getting to him. His ears and cheeks are tinted red in stress and his eyes dart wildly in anxiety, you do your best to be considerate. 

As he begins to punch in the number for your flight, you wait patiently, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Ben at the desk next to yours. Glancing over, he glances back with those piercing blue eyes. Have you ever seen something so blue? You smile kindly, one of those smiles you give to someone whom you're not friends with, but not strangers. It's fitting. 

“Thank you for your patience, ma’am.” you hear, he clears his throat and you notice his anxiety diminishing. “We are still watching the blizzard before we can get a confirmed time of departure for your flight from Chicago to San Diego. Please be patient and keep watch on the flight information boards and announcements going forward. We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

You nod and thank the man for his help, he smiles at you, watching his shoulders slack a little. Honestly, you'd rather stay camped out around cranky kids than step foot in the state of California right now. You have no complaints and an unusual bounce in your step as you go to find a place to rest until you hear more news about your flight.

A part of you wonders why you even agreed to go this year, a moral obligation to the unspoken tradition that's been going on for over a decade now? Probably. To see your best friend? You see her normally, you don't need a stupid New years party to see her. You know he will be there and just for that fact you're dreading it. 

Seeing him by choice should be considered self-harm at this point. Especially since the last time you saw him, because you know once you see his stupid smile the cycle will repeat and you'll be head over heels. Your eyes dart back to your flight schedule. Delayed. Good.

Your name is shouted from behind you, faintly you hear it and have to let yourself hear it again before turning around. Ben comes walking close with a military backpack slung over one shoulder. He's still calling out your name before you ground yourself enough to respond.

“Hey, Ben. Updates on your flight?” 

He shakes his head and wears a bittersweet smile, he doesn’t seem so down about the blizzard either. You wonder for a moment if he too is versed in the art of balancing on earthquakes just to fall, because that's what this is, whatever you're doing right now. 

“Nope, off to terminal D to wait it out.”

Your eyebrows perk up in surprise, “terminal D, huh?”

“Would that be where you're headed as well?” he catches on, the end of his lip quirked up slightly. You notice the freshly groomed beard. It suits him but you also notice the razor cuts lower on his neck, it makes you want to laugh.

“It would be.”

“In that case,” his eyes darted to the terminal entrance, a sense of familiarity was in his eyes. “I think you should let me buy you a new coffee.”

Wow, this man is stubborn.

An amused smile paints your face, and you almost laugh. Not sure why. Thinking to protest, but you remember a conversation you had with your therapist. Looming over your shoulder telling you to say yes to good things more, even if you believe you don't deserve it. This could be a good thing, or this could be nothing and you steal a latte from this man and never see him again. Either way, caffeine does sound good. 

“Okay, Ben. Lead the way,” you say and Ben smiles, he tells you there's an okay coffee shop in this terminal he swears by. You trust him and watch the back of his head as you walk down the terminal. 

Your palms are slick as you grasp at your suitcase handle, the clicking sound as the wheels hit the grooves in the airport floor turning to white noise. Trying to cast out any thoughts of this party, or actually attending it.

“Where are you going? If you don't mind me asking,” he asks, the sounds of the world come rushing back and Ben’s walking next to you now. 

He must have slowed his steps for you, his eyes are still so blue even under the dull lights. You didn't realize you made it to the cafe already. It smells warm of vanilla, a stark contrast from the artificial smell of cleaning products the rest of the airport gave off. Ben is still looking at you.

“San Diego,” you answer plainly as you step into line. Two blonde-haired teen girls stand in front of you, giggling about something. In Front of them is a college-aged student with heavy bags and headphones over her ears, she's ordering something with too many shots of espresso.

Ben laughs, “Me too. La Jolla.”

“Clairemont.” 

A beat of silence. Ben rocks on his feet and puts one hand over the other in front of him, his eyes darting to the menu. “What will you be having?”

You hum, overwhelmed by all the options. Maybe this is the time to try something new, you think. 

“just an iced latte with espresso.” old habits die hard. You always get that drink, no matter the cafe, no matter the state, no matter if a handsome and polite stranger offers to buy you anything you’d like. Maybe you should have gotten a matcha or a cappuccino to make yourself more interesting.

“Alright.” he nods. 

“Thank you,” you mutter.

“It's no problem,'' Ben smiles and it's so genuine, it feels strange to be on the receiving end of such a genuine smile from a man you met only a few moments ago. “If you want – you can grab a table or change out of those pants while I order.”

You look down at yourself, the sweatpants are practically dried now and you really didn't feel like digging through your bag in the middle of this cafe. “Thank you, again.”

Ben just nods and you roll your suitcase and yourself to a table, it's sitting next to the glass window and looking at a middle-aged man passed out on a bench. You hope he doesn't miss his boarding time. A group of adults with fruity drinks laugh together, surrounded by luggage. 

your fingers brush your hair out of your face, taking a deep breath in and just settling, only for a moment. Glancing back to the front, Ben is ordering and the barista has a smile on his face. With a look of familiarity in his eyes as he speaks to Ben, it's obvious they are speaking about more than just coffee order, he must be an old friend. 

Quickly, the unknown but apparently familiar barista glances towards you, and back to Ben's face once he notices you were looking too. That was embarrassing. His face is painted with surprise, and happiness when he looks back to Ben, just before you could look away and dwell on your own life. 

Ben comes walking back, you sit up straighter so maybe he doesn't get the impression your rethinking all your life choices up to now. You know? Bad first impressions and all. 

Well, you may have already checked that box now. Great.

“So,” he smiles, setting two cups down. A piping hot chai with lavender and honey and your drink, a simple latte. “What's in San Diego that you've decided to travel to during a blizzard?”

“Uh,” you stutter, do you lie so as not to get into the dread of why you wish to not be going? Hmmm, he is a complete stranger as well. “Well, I didn't technically choose to travel during this. Mother nature as her own mind.”

Ben chuckles, “That is true, I guess.”

“A party.” you spit out. “A New Year's party, I've had it every year since sophomore year.” 

“Oh, college or high school?”

“High school.”

He sits back, an amused smile, maybe even a little shocked as you’re in your early 30s now. “Wow, long-time tradition.”

“Yeah.” you breathe, sipping at your latte. It is pretty good, you are glad you followed this stranger into this cafe. Better than Starbucks, god, you could roll your eyes.

“Excited?”

Your eyebrows furrow, “excuse me?”

“Are you excited about the party?” he clarifies.

Are you this out of your mind? Nothing feels real right now.

You pause, almost choking on your own words. Do you lie? 

“Yes.” you keep it short and simple, gritting your teeth.

Ben hums, seeming not too convinced. You had never been a good actor before.

“Sorry,” you say before Ben could even ask if you were lying, “I'm not good at small talk.”

“That so?” his eyebrows quirks up, “big talk then. What first? Politics? Religions? The meaning of life? Pineapple on pizza?”

You smile, “It's criminal, fruit doesn't belong on pizza.”

“Oh, have you tried it?” a cheeky grin falls to his face and he leans forward. 

“I don't feel I need to, I know it will taste horrible,” you say.

Ben just laughs at you and it's warm and genuine and it's nice enough to wear it rings in your ears and for a moment, muffles out any thought of him. You think, maybe you can get used to this. Once again, your eyes find the world around you and you begin to notice more and more stressed passengers scrambling for their brains and flight times. You sigh, a part of you wishes you could care so much. 

Ben observes everything too, he looks almost nostalgic. You've known this man for only twenty minutes and he's been the most interesting or mysterious man you've encountered in a while. You're not sure which word is best to describe him yet, you haven't decided.

“All hell is going to break loose soon, we’ll have to make a game plan,” he says, deadly serious and it makes you smile. It's never been that easy.

“Game plan?”

“Of course.” Ben sits up straighter. “We’ll need to find food, shelter, chargers, and entertainment. In order of importance.” 

The question slips off your tongue, “You seem familiar with this, do you travel a lot.”

An emotion flashes across his face, it's unknown to you, but it didn't seem very positive. You'd wish you held your tongue, instead, you sip your coffee.

“Somewhat, more as a kid than now.” you're trying not to overanalyze the way he sounds sad when he said that like it was a pain to come back. It's probably nothing. You sip your coffee again and so does he. 

Ben's eyes glance to the clock, “well, we should probably get to it.”

It's funny, you don't realize this now but the way he doesn't need to ask, or you need to request teaming up on surviving the O’hare international airport blizzard. But you do, you get up and follow him again as he begins to ask you about your favorite food, if you're vegan or gluten-free. Maybe it is the bonding over coffee and assholes that molded this, an unspoken bond within 30 minutes. It's quite impressive, you think. 

You just hope he doesn't turn out to be creepy or some serial killer luring you in with his charm and blue eyes, it seems like a recipe for another Ted Bundy. But within those piercing blues, you see kindness and a sort of pain you would only be able to recognize in yourself. Maybe you have a strong intuition, or maybe you're stupid, but you continue to follow him into a small convenience store. 

The air still smells like a cleaning product, you catch a whiff of garlic when you walk past a certain aisle and then cold air once you reach the back. You grab a water and soda, a few strides to the right and you turn around, one thing of pringles and gum. You look up and see Ben's hair bobbing up and down as he walks down another aisle, just before he shows himself in front of you with handfuls of his own snacks. 

“All good?” he asks you, checking up on you. It's sweet.

“Mhm.”

The cashier rings you both up, once again, Ben knows the cashier.

“Haven't seen you around her in awhile, Ben.” her raspy voice speaks, she looks to be in her 60s with a head of shoulder-length gray hair. She balanced red glasses on the tip of her nose and wears a soft, apologetic smile as she greets him.

“Can't stay in Chicago forever,” he says, you think about what that means. He said he traveled a lot. Maybe you think too much.

Her hand grazes over the bag of m&m’s, the yellow-colored pouch ones with peanuts. Her face goes sour, a stark and surprising contrast from the happy customer service mask you recognize. She holds them in front of her like it was a flaw, but she doesn't say anything and lets Ben notice it first. He does.

“Oh,” he says, almost like he surprised himself that'd picked them up and carried them all the way here. “Habit. I'll put them back.”

Habit? 

You watch the interaction with a solid confusion from start to end, feeling like an outsider watching from within, an inside joke you can’t seem to grasp. From the apologetic, embarrassed, and solemn faces – it definitely isn't funny though. Ben speeds up, grasping the package all too tightly with his eyes trained on the ground and then he disappears around in isle.

The cashier looks back at you, she doesn't know you but she knows Ben. She smiles, it's a sad smile and she understands your confusion.

“They were his little brother’s favorite.” is all she says, you're still confused and your brain urges you to ask more. It feels way too personal though, and Ben is already back with empty hands.

He pays, you pay. You try not to think too hard about what it means and why she looked so sad telling you that, you don't think to ask either.

________________________________

Ben's palms are hot and sweaty as he wipes them on his pants, he's doing better. He's talking to new people, new people being a very pretty stranger during a flight delay. Only one small slip-up, it wasn't his fault really, muscle memory because normally Anakin would kill him for not getting his m&m’s. Maybe he should have just bought them anyway.

He passed the terminal D sign, he could navigate this place blind. Your railing close next to him looking around curiously, shelter. That was the next part of the game plan. 

“Over here,” he mutters, glancing at you. Show you a mostly deserted corner, a free outlet (rare), and close enough to a flight board so each of you'd be able to keep up to date. Not like Ben really wants to see those red words turn green, shamefully. 

You settle in, you drop your backpack, and park your suitcase against a wall. Ben goes straight for the outlet with his charger, got to hog them before any iPad kids can. You follow and sit next to him on the large window sill, his phone buzzes alive and he's met with a picture of Leia and Luke crawling onto his shoulder. It was when they were only 5 years old and they'd taken a trip to the beach for Ben's birthday, it was also the last time he'd seen either of them. He bites back a frown. 

“Cute kids.” your voice brings him down to gravity, and his head started spinning in the convenience store. Forgetting you were looming over his shoulder. “They yours?”

“Oh, no.” Ben gulps, “my niece and nephew, they're twins.”

You just smile and not, not saying anything else. 

“You should probably change out of those pants. Do you have something else to change into?” Ben asks, eyeing your stuff.

“Oh, yeah. Thank you for reminding me.” you jump down from the window sill and zip open your suitcase. Ben watched as you rummage through your clothes to pull out a pair of black shorts, “I'll be right back, save my spot?”

“Of course.” 

And you headed to the restrooms. 

Ben looks back down at your wide-open suitcase, he's not nosey or creepy, but he notices the short and sparkly dress laid out on the top. It looks incredibly fancy and even a little skimpy. He thinks you'd look pretty in it.

You come back in no time, legs on displacement and Ben notices your beat-up converse, little doodles along the soles. Ben smiles to himself. 

“Do you mind if I ask?” the words leave his mouth without permission, and he glances back to the sparkly fabric absolutely intrigued. He's probably crossing some personal line right now, but his mind can't stop thinking of your face - compared to now, at least – when he asked if you were excited. You say yes with a disappointed look while sitting in a long line knowing your flight will be delayed with a satisfied look in your eyes. It's curious, but Ben thinks he understands fully.

 “Are you actually excited for this party?” 

You look like you've been hit with a brick, for a stranger to be able to suspect your real emotions so well, to be able to read you, to detach that carefully crafted method of acting. You look down at your shoes, clench your fist and look back up at him. Smiling, it's not genuine, but it's what he would call a smile, “no, not really.”

Ben nods, he understands.

You huff and shoulder slack, sitting next to him. The secrets out and the boulders on your shoulder begin to lift, slightly. The overbearing weight that you could still be eating on a slight soon still hangs heavy over your head. 

“It's horrible, but I was actually so excited to find out about my flight delaying.” you laugh to yourself, it's self-depreciative. “It's just…” the words begin to slip out of your mouth, “I've known these people forever and obviously, you go through a lot with people you've known that long, but we still make an obligation to go to this party no matter what. This year though, some of my relationships with people there are a bit shakier than usual.”

“I understand,'' Ben breathed out. His voice shakier than usual, now he won't let the water break the damn, he's sure of it.

“You do?” you light up ever so slightly, looking at him with sudden curious eyes. A sense of understanding and someone to bear your burdens with, your shoulders look even more relaxed. Ben wants to curse at himself when he notices your lip quirked up when you start to speak. “What troubles face you on the other side of this stupid flight.”

Maybe he won't let himself crack, maybe.

Ben gulps, “Yes, uh.” he thinks, should he? “My family–”

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.” You seem cautious, but Ben would be a hypocrite if he didn’t even vaguely explain his situation after you practically spilled your guts in the wonderfully terminal D of O’hare international airport. “I know how some family drama can be.”

“No, it's okay.” he laughs off your incredible consideration, breathing heavily. Why does he do this to himself? Just don't mention Anakin, he tells himself that it's going to make any difference once he opens his mouth. The damn always breaks. 

You nod and sit patiently, attentively and it makes Ben's chest thump. What is wrong with him? He frowns with pink-tinted ears because what good has come from learning to pretend? 

“My sister-in-law and I don’t have the greatest relationship, currently…” Don't mention him, don't say his name. “So I haven't seen my niece and nephew for a while.” your eyes widen, not because of the simple fact of what he said. No, you feel bad about asking, obviously, it's a sore subject. You think you should have known, but you didn't. “And no good has really come from that either, I've pretty much been digging myself a hole with her and the kids over the past few years and well, their tenth birthday is in a few days so I'm trying to make steps to apologize for my absence.”

You don't say anything, but you understand. Ben can tell by the way you're looking at him, you know there more though. You don’t push or prod, you wait.

“But it's very scary, as you can tell,” he says, avoiding eye contact and looking at his sweaty palms, he's still sitting on the window seal with blinking city lights just past you two. The cold feeling on the large glass panels calms him and single-handedly keeps him back from breaking down. Ben learns to find comfort in the dangerous blizzard, strange, isn't it? He's never liked the cold before.

“I feel guilty for being happy about the delay, I should be excited to see them.”

A beat of silence, he shouldn't have said that. A failure of an uncle, a bad listener, and a bad person. He's just laying it all out too, ironic. Just as he called himself a hypocrite.

“Well all my best friends are at this New years party and you don't see my moping around about this flight delay, hm?” you say like it's just that easy, maybe it should. “Don't feel too guilty, you are nervous, you're human.”

You're human.

______________________________________

It's been an hour, you think.

Actually, you're not sure about it all. having not checked the time in a while, much more occupied by beating Ben at uno. It's been borderline embarrassing having handfuls of cards as he yells uno for the 8th time. But hey, you're learning things about each other whilst doing it, and how bad is getting to know a charming, handsome stranger with a toothy grin even if he's absolutely killing you with +four cards.

“Uno!” you look up to see a cheeky grin and unfortunately, one uno card in his hand.

“You have to be cheating!” you murmur.

“Sorry, I'm just very good at reading people.” he quips back and you hate the shine in his eye as he speaks, it's making it very hard to be mad at him.

“You know, if the shoe fits.” you nervously put down a green five, eyes glancing up at him as Ben watched you intensely. His face is empty and calm, but Ben puts down his last card and you erupt into a pained groan. “This is horrible for me!”

Ben just laughs softly, grabbing the deck of cards and yours and beginning to shuffle them once more. You originally planned to sleep off or even finish that book you've long neglected during this delay, anything to not think, but this. This was an alternative you were okay with. 

Most of the airport got the memo, keeping watchful eyes on the flight information and listening ear to the announcer. For those that could – slept, read, snacked away. Parents did anything to keep their children quiet or entertained. It was a sort of humility you'd only ever see during such a situation, it helped the doom brewing in your chest.

“So what did you say you did for a living?” you ask, as Ben hands you another seven cards.

A new discovery was made soon after you got to know Ben. Small talk is much more bearable whilst multitasking, so those awkward beats aren't filled with even more awkward little “interesting” or “that's so cool,” which are most of the time, very ingenuine. 

But the small talk you started with had slowly snowballed into big talk, or whatever Ben has called it in the cafe. You'd learned Ben's favorite color was blue, he was thirty-nine. obviously, he's very good at uno. That one you figured out on your own, besides that, it's been purely basics. 

“Well, I am currently unemployed.” Ben swallows, putting down a red nine.

You put down a red-three, “almost forty and unemployed. You're brave.”

“Are you shaming unemployed people?” he deadpanned and his certain sarcastic demeanor makes you giggle.

“No! I've been there once, you know,” you add, leaning back to get a good view of your cards before getting another down. “I just mean, what do you do with your life?”

“Mope.”

“Be serious, Ben!”

“Okay, okay.” he settles, putting down another card. “I am currently living off the government's money, army back pay. I read books, and visit cafes. Read books in cafes, draw pictures in them too, but only sometimes.”

“Army?” that would explain the military bag, the non-humanly straight posture, and definitely the traveling.

Ben looks away, almost embarrassed when he speaks, “Twenty years.”

You want to gawk, but that'd be rude. Should you say thank you for your service? Based on his demeanor now, you don’t think that's a great idea. It's always forced and no one really means it anyways. 

Instead, you ask probably an even worse question. “Why'd you leave?”

Ben's figure taps rapidly on his card in hand, he's trying his best to keep eye contact with you but you can tell it's hard for him. You regret asking him that, maybe you should have stayed in your comfortable small talk area.

“My brother,” Ben starts, barely holding himself together by grasping at the uno card. “He passed almost 10 years ago and I decided then I would leave since he had just had children.”

Oh, that’s what the moment in the convenience store was about. You think about this place and everyone that seems to know him, assuming they knew his brother as well. This airport must bring some conflicting memories.

“That was very considerate of you, Ben.” You answer honestly, your mouth feels dry as the syllable leaves his mouth. 

“It was hard.” Ben looks down at his hands and shuffles the few uno cards in his hands. “I’m not a patriotic person but the military was my life. I left to help my brother's wife and didn’t realize I would need help after making that decision.”

There’s a beat of silence. You feel an uneasy rage for Ben, rage towards the corrupt military system and how it treats its veterans. That’s definitely something that can be hashed out another time. 

“I failed her.”

It scares you how sincere and accepting he is of the phrase that he spoke, too comfortable with his failings like it’s a second skin. 

“What are you doing?” You ask softly.

Ben's head shoots up, confused, caught off-guard. “What?”

You nod ahead, urging his response because you know he heard you.

“I, uh,” Ben stutters for the first time since you’ve met, which arguably, isn’t that long. “I’m getting on a plane, to see my nieces and nephew for their birthday.”

You smile, not bothering to say anything, hoping he gets what you were getting at. Maybe you’re an optimist for everyone but yourself, or a fool. Ben looks ahead at you, intense eye contact grows and you feel his stare in your stomach. It’s strange. 

Ben knows what you’re saying, knows that you see he’s trying, and do not believe he’s a failure. You see it, and you’ve known him for less than a day. Scary.

“Uno.” 

Ben looks down at your hands and sees one card, he smiles.

_______________________

“Do you have any pets?” 

A few more hours pass, and an empty uno card and another solo trip for caffeine later. The careful question games continue.

“No, but I used to have a husky.”

You gasp, almost choking on your spit since the dynamic of hanging your head upside down off a bench didn’t agree with that exasperation. “That’s so cool.”

“She was very pretty,” Ben says, he sounds a little occupied but not annoyed. It’s nice and helps with your overwhelming boredom. “Do you?”

“I wish,” you say. “I think my landlord would crucify me, my plants will suffice.”

“Do you name them?” 

“What?”

Ben laughs like he knows the question itself sounds a little ridiculous. “Do you name your plants?”

“No, I don’t think I’d be able to keep track.” You look at Ben from the corner of your eye, he lay covered in a tan-colored shawl. 

The airport had started to grow chilly and your choice of camping out by the large windows maybe wasn’t too practical, the pretty lights make up for it. Ben looks comfy, his black sweats and crème colored sweatshirt make him look too good, way too good. A man that knows color theory is dangerous. Hoping he doesn’t notice your lingering glances.

“I’m assuming you name your plant then.” You taunt.

“Oh, yes.” He pauses to yawn, “any sane person would.”

“Are you calling me insane?” You spring up, blood rushing to your head and leaving you a little dizzy. Shooting playful daggers at Ben, failing to hide the quirk on the corner of your lip as you speak.

“What? Never.” He’s dripping with sarcasm. Rolling your eyes, you get to your feet and make small strides to sit next to Ben.  

“I thought about being a landscaper,” Ben adds.

“Oh, so you like plants that much?”

He chuckles under his breath, “I guess you could say that. Being able to design spaces and make nature more beautiful than it already is – deeply interests me.

“I say go for it.”

Ben's head cranes and he looks at you, looking for something in your features. He must have found it because he looks satisfied when he turns away and says, “I might have to.”

Ding!

Both of your heads shoot down to your phone as it lights up, just some random email, probably about work or some store you signed up for sending you more 30% coupons. 

“Are those your friends?” Ben says, eyes still looking at your phone. Not the email, your wallpaper. In photos from last year's party, everyone sat on the couch, some on the floor in front, and some laying on the back above everyone. “I’m sorry if I’m being nosy.”

“It’s okay,” you laugh, despite the sting in your chest thinking about the memory. It’s fair though, considering you were in the same scenario earlier, prodding about his life and generally being nosy. You had forgotten that photo was even in your wallpaper album, the phone turns off and back on to re-notify you of the email, and a new photo is replaced. “And yes, those are my friends.”

“You seem awfully happy and close to dreading this trip,” Ben adds.

“We are close but,” you drag out, contemplating your words. Bens watching you so attentively, almost zoned in on your face and lips. His eyebrow quirks with curiosity and anticipation.

“But?” Ben prods, not that you mind.

“It’s stupid.” You drop your head shamefully.

“I doubt that.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Oh, I doubt that even more.” He says under a breathy life, an amused smile dances on his lips.

“You’re laughing right now!” You accuse him, but Ben's eyes dance around your face first, looking for something. His mouth opens to speak, he knits his eyebrows and draws back.

“Excuse me then, I’m serious and definitely will not laugh,” Ben says, you want to smack the grin on his face.

You also really want to know what he was going to say before that statement.

Groaning, “Fine.”

You breathe in once and another out, “there’s this boy, we’ve had a complicated relationship for many, many years now. Last year it kind of all came to a stop after some… decisions. We haven’t spoken for a year now and I’m just, I don’t know, dreading seeing him.”

Ben hums, and you watch for a response. For him to laugh for being so stressed out over such a silly reason, especially in comparison to his problems. Not that it’s a competition. 

“That’s certainly not stupid.”

You want to roll your eyes, sarcastically you murmur, “Sure.”

“I’m serious,” Ben affirms. He does sound incredibly serious, you shift nervously in your seat. Your knee brushing against his thigh as you sit with your legs crossed, Ben tenses slightly. “Don’t undermine your feelings. I understand your nervousness, I know I do not know the full story but may I share some advice?

“No one is stopping you.” 

Ben yawns once more, excusing such actions before continuing. “This boy, no matter what experiences you’ve had, he’s just a boy. I don’t think you should put so much weight on it and let him ruin your happiness. You shouldn’t worry too much about the past, it’s happened and you can’t change it, focus on the now.”

You snort, “Easier said than done.”

Ben makes a sound of agreement before facing you, leaning in way too close. He raises a hand and taps the temple of your forehead, “It's all up here, once you put in the work, your mind will fill in the blanks and adapt.”

You feel his breath as he speaks, much less focused on his words of advice and rather trying not to drown in the pair of Atlantic blue’s absolutely staring you down. You feel vulnerable and stripped down under his glare, but warm and seen. 

With another yawn, Ben and you share another knowing glance. “I think your mind wants to sleep, Ben.”

Ben purses his lips, as to protest before realizing he is defeated. Before he can reply, you reassure him, “I’ll watch your flight.”

So you do, and Ben sleeps. Pretty quickly he had fallen asleep and your shoulder burned when eventually his head dropped on it. You didn’t mind, quite the opposite, it was just a new sensation you weren’t mentally prepared to hash out in the particular circumstances. 

Looking down you see his scruff, sandy hair with blonde highlights that look way too tempting to run your hands through. His lashes are long, you're jealous. The colors he wears make him look warm and comfy, you see a scar on his forehead and cheekbone, next to his

Mole. If you looked closer and maybe if it wasn’t winter, you’d see freckles littered across his nose.

Thinking about how he called himself a failure, kept his niece and nephew as his wallpaper despite how long it’s been since he’s seen them. You wonder what his plants' names are and if he has a favorite, you hope he gets to become a landscaper. Imagining him in a cozy sweater, at some warm cafe with a cappuccino and sketchbook drawing beautiful gardens and decorated patios, just to turn them into reality.

You fully understand what you're doing is a dangerous game, you know this routine in and out. The wondering, the gawking, and imagining. You’d always romanticize and fill in gaps with romance, it’s what brought you to your current dilemma. Now you sit with a stranger, in a Chicago airport with him sleeping on your shoulder as you imagine yourself sitting across from him in coffee shops.

_______________________

“....Flight 213 to Clairemont airport is boarding at terminal D, gate 2….”

You shifted your head, eyes blinking open to the fluorescent lights above you. 

“Last call for flight 213 to Clairemont airport is boarding at terminal D, gate 2….”

That's your fight, you sprung up, not realizing your head has been resting on a still-asleep Ben’s lap. His neck rolled back onto the edge of the uncomfy airport benches. You ruffled your hair, looked at your watch. You'd been asleep for maybe an hour, your eyes searched for your flight on the board. It was indeed boarding, finding Ben's shortly after. You would probably jump out of a plane right now if you missed it because you fell asleep.

 Ben needs to see his family and if you're the cause of that not happening… you'd never forgive yourself. Your eye found the number 215, Still delayed, which is still unfortunate but good for now. 

You wished you had time to bask in the innocence and calmness on Ben's face before having to wake him up, you were on a time schedule though. 

Gently placing a hand on his shoulder, the fabric of his sweatshirt was way too inviting. “Ben, Ben, come on sleepyhead. Wake up, Ben,” you spoke softly, you saw his eyes begin to lull open.

“Anakin?”

Your eyebrows knotted, reeling back, “What? Ben, wake up. I have to go.”

“Anakin, i'm sorry.” his voice was rough from sleep, and sorrow filled. His voice almost cracked in his dreamlike state.

Looking at your watch again, You need to go, but you weren't inconsiderate enough to leave without saying something. Your hand grasped his shoulder and shook him gently, his eyes shot open and his breath caught up. For a moment, you wondered if you should mention the name, better not. 

The life came back to Ben, frantically looking around to check where he was before his eyes found you, fully conscious this time. His name left his lips quietly.

“I have to go, they did the last call,” you babbled, beginning to gather the small amount of things you had out. Phone, charger, snacks… check, check, check.

Ben was shifting awake and to his feet above you, you noticed him peering at the flight plans as well. “Uh, do you need any help?” he came to your aid as you somewhat frantically stuffed and zipped your bag up.

You found yourself stuck in a gaze with him again, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed with sleep still lingering and he swallowed nervously. Suddenly, your mouth felt cotton dry. 

“Don't forget what I told you, okay?” 

Your chest feels heavy, a strange feeling creeps up your neck that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Reeling up and preparing for this to end, like some fucked up story or abruptly ended song. Slick palms grasp your backpack strap and suitcase handle, as you now stand face to face.

“I won't.” you swallowed, “thank you, Ben.”

Ben smiles, it's small but so genuine and so sweet that your teeth begin to ache.

You think it's appropriate to say goodbye now, but it feels wrong, so wrong. Maybe you’re selfish and the thought of saying bye to him despite the circumstances leaves a bad, yearning feeling in your mouth and doom deep in your chest. 

“Good luck,” you decide, the implication doesn't hurt any less but it feels like you're letting yourself down easier.

“And to you too.” Ben nods.

You begin to turn and find your gate. It feels like your body hit a brick wall, your knees don't move except to let you turn around and look back.

One last look.

“Hey, Ben,” you say, and god, his eyes are piercing. Even with so many feet between you, this was a dangerous tightrope you were balancing on now. “You haven't failed anyone, and don't dig yourself a hole and give anyone a reason to think you have, yeah?”

“I promise.”

Then, you turn back around and prepare for the flight ahead.

-

Comment to be added to the tag list to be the first to hear when part 2 and 3 come out!!

[starbanmk]

Bestie I NEED to know more abt the Biker AU you don’t understand it has made me so interested I can’t function

IM GLAD PEOPLE SEEM SO INTERESTED IN THIS!!!! People asking about it is forcing me to actually turn it into a solid idea LOL

(If anyone has any specific questions feel free to send in asks! I love seeing them :3)

In the meantime, here's some stuff about the main group of characters this AU focuses on ,,,,,

- Red Dowry

Age: 22

Experience: Was a biker for 4 years until he was 20, has been fixing and washing machinery for others since then.

Occupation: Mechanic at Drake's Mechanics

Other: Walks with a limp, still loves going to races even if he can't participate.

- Parrot Exer

Age: 19

Experience: Had been learning to fix bikes, motorcycles and cars through an apprenticeship under Mapicc's dad since he'd been 16, has been a full time employee since he was 18

Occupation: Finance manager and mechanic at Drake's Mechanics

Other: Pretends he knows what's going on, but genuinely doesn't know the first thing about racing.

- Mapicc Drake

Age: 21

Experience: Basically grew up in the shop, has been surrounded by bikes and machinery since he was born and started helping out around the shop when he was 13

Occupation: Owner and mechanic at Drake's Mechanics

Other: He's actually not allowed to keep giving Ro discounts, but figures he can make an exception seeing as he's the owner and Ro's his best friend. Parrot knows hes not supposed to, but Parrot doesn't call the shots. Mapicc thinks he should, though, sometimes...

- Spoke Tucker

Age: 18

Experience: Has been biking since he was 14, although he didn't get his license until 16. He's been competing in races anonymously for a year under the street name 'Wormhole'

Occupation: Unemployed. He's in his first year of university, planning to major in Comp Sci. and minor in biology.

Other: Spoke, being younger, is constantly seen as the baby of their friend group, even though he's arguably the most gutsy. He hates this. He likes that people can't discern his age when he has his helmet on.

- Ash Swanson

Age: 21

Experience: Only started biking a year and a half ago, but got freakishly good freakishly fast

Occupation: Currently attending university, majoring in law. If biking doesn't work out he plans to go into corporate law.

Other: Ash is genuinely thinking of going into more professional leagues when it comes to racing.

- Minute Tucker

Age: 22

Experience: Got a motorcycle for his 17th birthday and has been biking since. Started racing as soon as he was old enough to qualify (19)

Occupation: Is attending university, studying psychology, but has been scouted and is planning on dropping out to pursue professional trail biking.

Other: Loves biking more than anything. His father bought him his first motorcycle just when Minute's parents were separating, so biking has helped him through the toughest of times.