#song is screen by twenty one pilots

[emodennis]

mac mcdonald - trying to be so cool

[judeniriain8]

Song of the Day

[tiemposstuff]

We're broken

we're broken.

We're broken people

we're broken people

[sunshinedeekay]

The Craving (DK’s version) || lsm.

pairing: dk x gn!reader

genre: tooth-rotting fluff

warnings: tbh none. just some kissing n hugging n stuff. slight cursing but not really

word count: just over 6k

author’s note: WOW okay hello. this has probably been a little longer awaited than i anticipated, but it is done now! the first idea on my previous post and first completed fic i’ll ever post on this account,,, and tumblr in general.

anywho, if you notice some odd spelling of some words (centre, colour) i am canadian, so things are normally spelled a little differently here. so i apologize if that throws you off 😭

but finally, i felt like i had to base a fic off of this song. after hearing the craving (jenna’s version) for the first time and seeing the video for it. i was brought to tears just because of how cute and sweet it was. i’m also a huge twenty one pilots fan, so that’s another part of me that went “WRITE THIS FIC.” so, here it is. i really hope you guys enjoy it :))

special shoutout to my bestie @wooziorgans for helping me with publishing, tags, banners, and also gassing me up to actually finish this and post this. you all should follow him as well because his posts are SO GOOD. he’s such a great writer.

divider by @cafekitsune

now, onto the fic!

~sunshinedeekay <3

“I don’t know why I can’t stop crying. I fear about getting old, and I don’t know a lot about you still…”

That was a voicemail that Seokmin constantly replayed in his long history of Y/N’s voicemails they had sent. He saved every single one. Even if it was the most mundane voicemail in existence, any sound of his precious Y/N’s voice was utter harmony to his ears.

He remembered that voicemail vividly. Waking up early in the morning to see a missed call and a voicemail from his partner of a few months. Y/N’s whisper sounded like they were crying, but also attempting to stay quiet and hold everything together. He remembered how nervous Y/N was of being good enough for Seokmin, and still not knowing a whole lot about him because they had only dated for a short amount of time. It crushed his heart to hear them like that.

He sent a plethora of loving words to them that day.

Now, here he was. Lied in an unfamiliar hotel bed in an unfamiliar hotel room. Darkness overcame the space, and the only light that shone was the screen of his voicemails. His thumb pressed the play button over… and over… and over. He kept thinking. Thinking more than actually doing, and that was what led him to the sinking feeling in his stomach. He felt so much guilt and remorse for what happened between them before he left for tour, and even if they talked after like nothing happened, it still lingered on his mind.

——

“You’ve been distant…” Y/N’s quiet voice brought up softly as Seokmin was cuddling their tired body that was still under the covers. He was up and ready to leave for SEVENTEEN’s short tour around the area. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Why would you think that?” Seokmin’s voice responded just as soft, if not even softer than Y/N’s sleepy tone. “I would tell you if something was wrong. You know that.”

“But you haven’t been telling me.” Y/N spoke back. Seokmin stopped in his tracks with that statement. “You’ve been out late at practice, always on your phone with something, and always sitting with that lost puppy look in your eyes. Every time I ask what’s wrong, you dismiss me.” Y/N continued as they slowly sat up and gently pushed Seokmin off. They finished their explanation with a rub to their sleepy eyes. “I’m beginning to worry there’s something you’re hiding from me.”

“Why would I hide anything?” Seokmin found himself getting defensive right off the bat. Why was he speaking like this? He never spoke like this right away to anybody, let alone Y/N who just asked a harmless question.

Y/N’s brows furrowed from the sudden defensive tone. Their nose scrunched with slight irritation. “I don’t know why you would. You never have before, so why do you seem to be now?” They spoke in the same tone back to him. Seokmin could tell that the way he spoke to Y/N irritated them.

“You act like I’m cheating or something.” Seokmin suddenly muttered. Then he thought about what he just said, and his eyes widened while his blood turned to ice. Did he really just say that? Even after he knew that was a sore subject for you? He cursed that dirtbag for even considering another woman over you… Now he just threw that out into the open.

“…What?” Was all that could come out of Y/N’s mouth. Their voice got quiet again, and their brows angled more with worry and irritation. “There’s no way you said that just now.” Despite the instant regret Seokmin felt for saying what he just said, he felt all of the stress from his planning and work bubbling over. He couldn’t stop himself from speaking now.

“Jesus, Y/N. I just wanted to say goodbye. I don’t have time to talk about this right now. Do you really not trust me enough to believe I could cheat on you?” Seokmin asked. His voice slightly sharpening with every syllable as he stood up and looked at his partner. His heart squeezed just looking at Y/N, their expression read as two parts confused, and one part hurt.

“Well excuse me for being a little worried and skeptical about your shady behaviour recently. You haven’t exactly been open and affectionate with me as of late.” Y/N started to argue. It was true. Because of Seokmin’s thinking and panicking about their relationship, he said less, and gave Y/N less affection than he normally did.

“Do I have to be clung to your hip the whole time in order for you to trust me? That’s a little much.” Seokmin retorted back. He slung his backpack over one shoulder and raised the handle of his suitcase.

“That’s not what I said at all, and you know it.” Y/N raised their voice slightly. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back for Seokmin.

“Well then I don’t know what you want from me, Y/N! It’s ridiculous that I change my routine with you just slightly and suddenly you think I could be cheating?” Seokmin just spoke without thinking. If current him could go back in time, god he would slap himself in the face. “I don’t have time for this. I gotta go before I’m late.”

“Fine. Leave.” Y/N spoke sharply. No “travel safe” or “I love you�� spoken between either of them. Seokmin just left without a word, and probably too harsh of a slam of the front door.

——

Seokmin groaned internally thinking about that fight. Even though he apologized profusely over the phone to Y/N that night after he landed in Japan, he felt his heart still hurting. If he could explain everything, he would. But it wasn’t like that.

Truth be told, he was thinking about proposing to them.

He thought about it so much that it made him panic to himself. What if they weren’t ready? What if they said no? What if they realized they suddenly didn’t love him enough to want to spend a life with him like that? Sure, they had been together for about three years now, living together for one, and everything had been absolute bliss for Seokmin since then. But what if Y/N didn’t feel the same?

Seokmin continued to scroll his camera roll now. Having a folder made specifically for any of Y/N’s pictures or videos he would end up taking or saving. Every time he would look at a photo, the memory replayed in his mind.

Oh! Like the beautiful one of Y/N walking a trail full of looming evergreen trees. Dawned in a cute trench coat, a beanie, and a scarf he had bought for them just moments ago before that point. Their nose and cheeks were red from the cold, and their eyes were crinkled from their joyful, genuine smile.

——

“Take a few steps ahead, love! The scenery is perfect for a picture!” Seokmin told Y/N. His new camera he got for his birthday held in his chilled, slender hands while he placed it closer to his face to get a good frame.

Y/N didn’t even question it, but he could see the way they got flustered from him being so eager to take a picture of them. He knew they always got bashful when he insisted on taking a picture of them because that moment was just right. Even if the scenery wasn’t perfect, Y/N always was to Seokmin’s eyes. So a pretty scenery like this was just the cherry on top of an already delectable sundae.

Seokmin snapped a couple pictures, and as he looked back at them, his heart lept. Y/N looked so pretty. They were always so pretty. He couldn’t suppress the goofy smile on his face. He caught up to Y/N after taking the pictures with the same smile that started to ache his cold cheeks.

“Did they turn out good?” Y/N asked, but before they could even finish that breath, they felt Seokmin’s strong arms around their waist. Lifting them off their feet and spinning them in circles. Y/N burst into a fit of laughter, and held onto him tight.

“You’re so pretty.” Seokmin mumbled into their warm neck. He placed a lingering kiss against their supple skin. “I love you so much.”

——

Seokmin continued to scroll. Finding a video of him and Y/N playfully partner dancing courtesy of Seungkwan. There wasn’t any special setting, no special occasion, they were just dancing in their kitchen to the music playing on the TV. Both of their smiles infectious through the screen as they just looked happy to be with each other, and Y/N’s darling laugh as Seokmin tried (but ultimately fumbled) a complicated spin around. Seokmin wrapped his arms around his love, and the video ended.

There were so many little things. So many pictures that were taken at such different points in time. From fun and outdoorsy, to the mundane, soft, and intimate moments Seokmin got to share. All with one person. One person he knew he could and would love for the rest of his life. If Y/N wasn’t ready, he would wait for the rest of his days until they were.

He needed to let them know just how much he was ready for this next step. How much he loved them. He hated the thought of putting them on the spot like that, but goddammit, he would give Y/N the universe if they asked for it. Even if it meant taking a chance, and possibly taking some sense of security for such a big decision even for a split second. He would give them everything.

And that’s exactly what Seokmin was determined to do. He was gonna marry Y/N.

“So, I’ve had this idea for a while,” Seokmin started casually, sitting across Joshua in a secluded café the next morning. The warm sun comforting both of their bodies in addition to the lattes and pastries on a large plate in front of them. “But you have to swear to me that this stays between us. It goes to nobody else in the group or anybody else you know unless I say something to somebody else.”

This puzzled Joshua. He eyed Seokmin over his mug as he sipped from it for a lingering moment before setting the drink back on its saucer. He licked the frothed milk off his lips before he spoke. “Alright. What are you thinking about?”

Seokmin felt his heart begin to race in his chest once more as he nervously tapped his index finger onto the porcelain cup of his half-drank latte. He had to prepare himself to gain the courage to even say a few words- the main words- of his plan. How was he gonna explain everything he thought about the whole process?

“I…” His voice fell short for a moment. His throat forced a hard swallow before he sighed and tried again. “I’m proposing to Y/N.”

It was a good thing Joshua had his mug set down by now. Otherwise he’d have choked and had hot coffee spilled all over himself. Fortunately, only one of the two things happened. Except he choked on air when he heard Seokmin finally explain the summed up version of his idea.

He finished coughing a couple more times before patting his chest softly. “You’re being dead serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious than anything in my life.” Seokmin breathed. His brows furrowed in concern for his friend, but they quickly softened once he saw Joshua was fine. “I just,” he continued. “I was thinking about it all last night. Listening to their beautiful voice over the phone, looking over our old pictures and videos… It made me realize just how lucky of a person I am to have somebody as great as Y/N. They make me shine only the best parts of me, and I’ve never felt unsafe or uncomfortable around them once. I’ve thought about this for so long, and it was what was making me so off these past couple weeks. But now, I don’t think any other choice is a compromise.”

Joshua stared in awe, but the way his doe eyes twinkled when hearing Seokmin just open his heart up and speak truthfully about such a huge decision made his heart swell with pride for his best friend. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if he cried at the wedding. “Seokmin…”

Seokmin looked to Joshua, and paused for a moment before continuing. The tapping on his mug stopped. “Every moment we’ve shared together has held a special place in my soul. Y/N is the most patient, loving, and perfect person I’ve been graced with. I want your help in carrying out the plan, and even the planning. I was thinking of asking Seungkwan as well, but I wanted to tell each of you this privately.”

Joshua couldn’t fight the smile on his face. He reached to take Seokmin’s nervous tapping hand and clasp it in a firm grasp. “I’ll do anything you need me to do. I’m so proud of you, Seokmin. You deserve Y/N and Y/N deserves you. To see the way you two have blossomed over the past couple years has been an honour, and I would love nothing more than to help you take the next step.”

Seokmin felt his eyes gloss slightly. He squeezed Joshua’s large hand with the same intensity as he gave him a tearful smile. His bright teeth in full view and almost glimmering from the morning sun coming through the window.

“I knew I could count on you.”

“Y/N-ah!~” Seokmin’s sweet sing-song tone would call out to his beloved partner. His feet scuttled from the kitchen to their shared bedroom, where a sleepy Y/N, probably only about half awake thanks to Seokmin’s loud voice, would lie.

“Min…” Y/N would grumble. Opening their eyes and squinting from the neutral light that now flooded the bedroom. “What time is it?”

“I’m sorry, lovebug, I know it’s early and you like your sleep,” Seokmin started. Straddling his partner’s legs to lean over them and slightly press his weight onto their body, peppering Y/N in delicate kisses. “But I have a big day planned. I’m making breakfast right now, so you can get ready while I finish. Dress nicely, because I’m pampering you, today.” He gave a cheeky grin. Leaning over to place one last kiss right in the centre of their forehead.

Y/N would laugh gently through their nose. They moved to lazily wrap their arms around Seokmin’s toned body and pulled him closer on top of them. “But you’re so warm and comfy like this…” They’d whine into his warm neck.

Seokmin would breathily laugh in return. He rested more of his weight onto Y/N’s body as he nuzzled his nose into their cheek and gave a lingering peck on their skin. “Mmm… But today is gonna be so fun. I know you’ll love it.” His voice was a sweet and low purr into Y/N’s ear. Something that could always make them shiver just from the sensation of his breath and the vibrations from his voice.

“Fine.” Y/N sighed and slid their arms from around Seokmin’s broad body. They lied flat with their arms sprawled out so he could climb off of them with ease.

Seokmin would grin like a child on Christmas while hovering over Y/N. Placing one more kiss onto their lips before climbing off. “That’s my lovebug. Trust me. You won’t regret it!” He exclaimed, then hurriedly shuffled his way back out to the kitchen.

Y/N pushed themselves up and sighed softly again. They looked over to the clock, 7AM. Jerk. As they rubbed the sleep from their eyes and face, they couldn’t help but wonder.

What did Seokmin have planned?

“Okay… And… Open!” Seokmin uncovered Y/N’s eyes. He had covered them some minutes ago to lead Y/N to a very special place for the both of them. One they would often go to when they needed a break outside, but also didn’t want to do anything too huge. In front of Y/N was the small café where they and Seokmin had their first date. Nothing had changed about it, despite it being a couple years since that fateful day, but that’s what always made the experience so wonderful each time they revisited.

“I had a feeling you’d bring me here.” Y/N teased Seokmin with a grin and a small poke to the right side of his ticklish waist. Seokmin would laugh and grab ahold of Y/N’s hand, lacing his long fingers with theirs.

“Yeah, yeah… But you don’t love coming here any less.” Seokmin chuckled and led them into the café. The little bell rang as the cyan door opened, and Seokmin held the door for Y/N to let them enter first.

Y/N entered and absentmindedly made their way towards the table they always sat at since that first date, but a sight of something caused them to stop in their tracks.

Already lied out on the table was Y/N’s favourite pastries and coffee. The beverage being made just the way they liked it. On the little cup, the word “Lovebug” was written beside it with a small heart beside it.

“Min…” Y/N would gasp softly. Bringing a hand over their mouth as they felt their heart swell from the sweet gesture.

“Yes, love?” Seokmin would have a loving grin on his face again. Bringing his arms around his lover’s waist as he pressed them up against him a little more. “Is everything alright?”

“Of course, yes! Sorry I’m just—“ Y/N tried to explain. But there wasn’t any words that could put together the amount of love and tenderness they felt in this moment for Seokmin. Maybe it was because they resolved their fight just the night before, but they also just felt… Happy. Overjoyed to have somebody like Seokmin who loved them enough to do this.

“It’s alright… Just sit down and enjoy. We can take whatever we don’t eat back with us to the car.” Seokmin reassured with his gentle tone. Moving his hands over Y/N’s hips to gently rub gentle circles around the bones with the pads of his thumbs.

The café date was everything Y/N could’ve dreamt it would be. They caught up with Seokmin, who told many stories about SEVENTEEN’s escapades during their tour, showing pictures, videos, and whatnot. But not to mention, Seokmin was just as lovey-dovey as he always was.

He held their hands over the table, under the table, gently grabbed their knee under the table and gave it a loving caress. But the way he looked at them…

Y/N had never noticed it before, maybe because they didn’t believe the people who told them all the time about how Seokmin looked at them, but they saw it now. His eyes glimmered with the sun whenever his attention was on you. His expression was bright, beautiful, endearing. They didn’t think it was true, but Joshua was right.

“He looks at you like you put stars in the sky.”

“Everything okay, lovebug?” Seokmin’s voice would bring them back to reality. Y/N suddenly looked up to Seokmin’s curious, and almost concerned expression since they had zoned out suddenly.

“Mm? Yeah. I’m all good.” Y/N reassured. Gently squeezing Seokmin’s hand that was holding theirs on top of the table. “Keep talking, I’m listening to every word.”

To let the food settle, Seokmin took them to a park next. One in the middle of town where they’d normally walk at any time of the day. Early morning, afternoon, middle of the night, you name it. They walked it.

Seokmin had Y/N’s hand in one hand, and the strap of his camera bag in the other. He was looking for a perfect scenery spot to take pictures. But not just of the trees, or that cute little bird that perched and twittered on the branch, no. He needed a picture of Y/N. One where he could capture the memory of this moment, of Y/N, before both of their lives would change forever.

“Y/N, go stand over there. Right under those trees. You see that little divot in the grass?” Seokmin tugged gently on Y/N’s hand to get their attention. Then leaned in real close to their side to point. He wanted to make sure they could see the spot, and that he wasn’t just crazy. But honestly? It happened more than he’d admit.

Y/N squinted to look for the spot. Seokmin looked over to their expression, and a small grin spread on his narrow cheeks. The way their nose scrunched always had his heart in a knot.

“I see it!” Y/N grinned. Slipping their hand out of Seokmin’s and making their way towards the spot. Seokmin was already getting his camera out. Taking test pictures to alter anything that made the picture look less than perfect. He then watched Y/N through the camera, and his heart pounded against his chest.

God. He was down horrendously.

“Now just look around. Don’t even worry about me being here. Just be you.” Seokmin instructed. Holding the camera up to his face as he carefully watched his loving partner through the lens. He couldn’t fight the goofy smile from his face.

Y/N would casually pose and look around. Smiling up at the little bird on the branch and even whistling back. Well— they attempted to, anyway. This made Seokmin laugh behind the camera.

When they saw Seokmin lower the camera, their attention caught glimpse of a group of pigeons. Picking from the ground and minding their own business. Y/N suddenly wondered how close they could get to the pigeons without startling them.

They took careful and slow steps to the group, and eventually found themself in the centre of the pigeon circle.

Seokmin looked up from his camera to where Y/N was before. They weren’t there? He looked around the area for them, and then found his partner standing in the middle of what looked like a pigeon cult. This made his chest ring with a hearty laughter as he took out his phone and started to video them.

“How did you get in there?” He laughed.

“I don’t know! I just walked in!” Y/N would respond with a giggle. Looking up to Seokmin and shaking their head when they noticed him recording. They continued to look down at the pigeons all strutting around them. Smiling when just watching their little mannerisms.

Suddenly, Y/N did a little hop. The pigeons went flying around them. They would laugh and shield their head. Rushing their way back to Seokmin, who was laughing even harder at this point. His dimples on full display as his eyes crinkled happily. He placed his phone away and took Y/N into his arms while they both still laughed.

After the walk in the park, things were staring to get a little darker now. The afternoon was setting into dusk, and the air stared to get a bite of chill within the breeze.

“We’ll head home soon. There’s just one more thing I need to do.” Seokmin smiled. His voice had suddenly gone more quiet. It faltered slightly. Was he suddenly nervous?

“Is everything alright, Min?” Y/N asked. Squeezing his hand to attempt to reassure him, even if they didn’t know what was happening.

“I’m more than alright, my love. Don’t worry.” Seokmin smiled. Squeezing Y/N’s delicate hand in return as he led them to another small place. An abandoned boardwalk over a lake not too far from the park. It was deserted. Not a single soul in sight.

The only sign of life Y/N could see on it, was a path made just for them to walk. Small candles bordered the pathway to lead them towards the end of the dock. Their flames danced elegantly in the breeze.

“Seokmin? What is this?” Y/N asked with a surprised laugh. A wide smile on their face as they gawked at the scene in front of them. They couldn’t help but pull out their phone and take a picture.

“Shhh… Just walk with me.” Seokmin grinned. Moving his arm to wrap around Y/N’s waist and pull them into his hip. Leading them through the path in a slow pace. Like one you’d take through an art exhibit. Y/N took in the sight around them. The clear sky showed the beautiful colours of the forming sunset, the gentle waves of the lake plopped onto the shore from the slight breeze. They felt their heart beat pulsing against their chest. What was all of this?

Seokmin, on the other hand, was quaking in his dress shoes. This was it. This was the final step to take before he asked Y/N the biggest question he’d ever ask in his life. He did his best to stay calm on the outside. Pulling Y/N closer and just walking in silence to let them take in the scenery. It was beautifully romantic. Seungkwan nailed it.

As they approached the end of the dock. There was a projector screen that came into view, as well as a plethora of rose petals, and a small rug that was lied down in front of the projector.

Seokmin guided Y/N by the small of their back to stand on the rug. Watching their expression light up and their jaw slightly hang open as the projection finally came on. What would play is little video memories of Seokmin and Y/N together. From when they first dated, progressing into more recent times. While a gentle song played in the background. One Y/N had sent to him when they first started dating.

“When you touch me, yeah I feel butterflies

I’m gonna love you ‘till the day I die.”

Y/N covered their mouth with both of their hands now. Feeling tears well up in their eyes as they continued to watch the compilation of videos. There were so many. Recorded by Y/N, recorded by Seokmin, or even from an outside source of one of their friends.

Seokmin stood carefully behind Y/N. Making eye contact with Joshua and giving a small nod of acknowledgement. Joshua followed the signal. Sneaking out from his hiding place to hand Seokmin the ring box.

Seokmin clasped his fingers around the box. Joshua placed his hand over Seokmin’s fingers and the box. Joshua gave Seokmin a silent encouragement through the reassuring touch. Seokmin nodded, feeling tears already well in his eyes as he smiled to Joshua.

When the slideshow looped again, Seokmin tucked the ring box in his back pocket. He approached behind Y/N and casually wrapped his arm around their waist. He took a moment to appreciate the new music playing. A peaceful, romantic piece that Woozi had put together just for this special night.

“We’ve spent so many memories together, haven’t we?” Seokmin started. His voice just above a whisper as he tried his best to keep his own emotions in check for this important moment.

“Min…” Y/N started. Looking up to Seokmin. But he took their hands in his and gave them a tender grin. Rubbing his thumbs over their knuckles as if he still didn’t remember how they felt off the top of his head.

“I love you, Y/N. I always get so scared I don’t say it enough.” Seokmin started now. His chest tightened with tears. He sighed softly and just kept himself grounded by rubbing his thumbs over their small knuckles. “But I really do love you. With all of my heart, my soul, my existence. I wouldn’t be who I am if you weren’t by my side. I don’t know who blessed me to have you, whether it was some sort of god, or the universe, or just something that drew us together. But I will always be thankful for what I have. That I have you.” His voice broke slightly. The tears making his vision blurry as he tightened his grip on Y/N’s hands. Bringing both of them up to gently place a kiss on each set of knuckles.

“You’ve been my world, my happiness, my inspiration, my muse… You’ve been and always will be all of these for me. And Y/N I— to imagine a life without you in it breaks my heart.” Seokmin continued. He gently lowered their hands, but kept them in his grip. Blinking back his tears to meet Y/N’s tearful gaze.

They already figured it out.

“Which is why…” Seokmin trailed off. Slowly bringing himself to his left knee. His gaze never leaving Y/N’s, and his heart leaping when he saw them gasp alight from surprise and start to choke out silent sobs.

“I want you to be my everything for the rest of my days, Y/N. I don’t see myself in the future with anybody else other than you. You complete me, you love me in ways that I’m sure you don’t even know yourself. You’re kind, patient, caring, selfless… You’re everything I could ever hope to achieve.” Seokmin’s voice now began to break. Seeing their tearful expression mixed with the overwhelming feelings of both love and fear made it impossible for him to hold back his emotions now.

“I don’t say enough how much I love you or appreciate you, and I feel terrible I can’t remind you every single day just how deep my feelings root for you. So… I hope that this can tell you just how much I need you with me.” He finally one of his hands out of Y/N’s. Reaching into his pocket to pull out the black velvet box and lifting the lid of it. He held it up to them. The ring was a beautiful silver. The jewel wasn’t just a diamond within it, but instead, a mix of amethyst, his birth stone, and Y/N’s birthstone. A(n) [insert birthstone].

“Y/N. I’m not perfect in loving you like you deserve. But I’ve never been more sure of this choice in my life. So my question is, do you want to love me for just as long? Will you marry me?” Seokmin finally asked. There wasn’t much silence between them in terms of words, but even the most brief pause felt like a million years. Was he pushing this too far too soon? Was Y/N not ready? What if he just put them on the spot all for nothing?

“Yes… God, Seokmin, yes.” Y/N choked out through sobs now. Frantically nodding their head as they covered their trembling lips with their free hand that still wasn’t in Seokmin’s.

Seokmin felt his world stop for a moment. They… They said yes?

“You… You will?” Seokmin stuttered out. His eyes going wide in surprise as his jaw hung agape. The tears were now flowing down his tanned and flushed cheeks full throttle now. They said yes. He couldn’t believe they just said yes.

“Yes!” Y/N nodded as they nodded frantically again. Feeling more sobs escape their chest as they looked over the ring, then to Seokmin. The Seokmin who had lived them better than anybody ever could, the Seokmin who was made of affection and tenderness, the Seokmin who was now on one knee wanting their souls to be dedicated to each other.

Seokmin quickly took Y/N’s trembling left hand and the ring out of the box with his other hand. Sliding it over their finger and looking over it now. It was beautiful. Just as amazing as he’d imagined. The best part was, it fit perfectly.

Now, Seokmin had pushed himself up to envelop Y/N in a tearful embrace. Sweeping them off their feet to wrap their legs around his waist as he quietly sobbed into their neck, while they did the same on him.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.” He sobbed quietly. Moving one hand to the back of their hair to press their face a little more against his warm skin. He wanted them to be as close as possible.

“I love you too, Seokmin. With everything I have.” Y/N sobbed back. Clinging to him tighter as if it would be the last time they would ever hold him. But they both knew now that that was far from true.

Suddenly, cheers erupted from behind the embracing and tearful couple. Y/N would look up and realize that, indeed, Seokmin had help.

Seungkwan was throwing leftover rose petals in celebration, also crying with the two. Joshua was just crying and cheering for Y/N and Seokmin, a clear smile of pride written all over his tearful face. Wonwoo was clapping for the pair, his camera hanging from its strap over his neck as he had the widest smile out of the bunch. Soonyoung, standing next to Seungkwan, who was also throwing petals and shouting in victory like a viking going to war. Finally, a calm Jihoon and Minghao, well— calm compared to the rest. They were just as happy as everybody else, but weren’t the open crier types.

Seokmin set Y/N down, which caused Y/N to look back up to him with a trembling smile. Seokmin wouldn’t hesitate in taking their face between his hands and connecting their lips together in a deep, loving kiss. Wonwoo raised his camera to take a few more final pictures of the beautiful moment.

When Seokmin pulled away from Y/N, his forehead went to rest against theirs. Just closing his eyes and enjoying their new moments as an engaged couple.

“You won’t regret this. I’ll be the best husband anybody could have…” Seokmin promised through a whisper.

“I know you will…” Y/N whispered back. “I love you, Min.”

“I love you, too…”

As the group now worked to clean up the romantic scene, there was nobody short of a smile, or a stray tear. Joshua was clinging onto Seokmin from pure excitement, even though he wasn’t even the one that got engaged.

“Well,” Jihoon started. Approaching Y/N’s side and placing a gentle hand on their shoulder. “I guess the bad news from all of this is you’re really stuck with us now.” He joked with a slightly cheeky grin to his round face.

“Oh no, that’s gonna be terrible.” Y/N chided sarcastically as they playfully rolled their eyes.

“Listen, I’m just warning you now, this is your last chance to run for the hills.” Jihoon added. A chuckle leaving his chest as he finished. There were a few moments of comfortable silence between the two, before Jihoon tightened his grip slightly on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Welcome to the family, Y/N.”

[skvaderarts]

The Line.

Holy shit.

This fucking song has me in a death grip. I've been listening to this song on a loop for 3 days now. The line about the goddamn BLANKET?! Exquisite in the worst possible way. Fuck that blanket. That blanket has given me emotional damage and so has this song.

I accidentally found the song through a random AMV that was recommended to me, and it's RUINED MY LIFE. And then I learned the context and it got 100 TIMES WORSE. Every time I hear it it gets worse because I think even deeper about what it means. I could write a thesis paper on this shit at this point down to the key signature and the bpm. "I can't fight this time now"? Why did you have to come for my throat like this? Song's choking me harder than Viktor choked Jayce during that fight. It's perfect. Do you know how many times I've thought that in my life? I hate it. It's too real. I'm so glad for it.

I want to reach through the screen and hug Viktor so hard that his shiny new Hextech spine shatters.

I want to clamber my short butt up onto a step ladder and grab Jayce by his giant goofy but loveable shoulders and shake him and tell him it's okay. But like, talk to your boy. Just saying. Leave the laser hammer at home. You both need each other. And I need you both to be okay.

These people who don't exist have hurt me so bad because I UNDERSTAND. That pain is REAL. I feel it. This song hits me in such a real, personal way, and so do these characters. I feel like this song sat me down and put me through therapy and I came out with deep personal insight and an urge to feel better about myself.

I've been under that blanket. Spent years under it. Sometimes I still am. This song made me want to stand up, shake it off, and burn it. I just never even thought about it that way. Never even thought about that I was under it. Literally or figuratively. I've been under it so long I didn't even know it was there anymore. This song woke me up. It was just what needed in my life right now. The lyrics cut me like a knife and I can't thank them enough because all the best music does.

And I know I'm not alone. You aren't, either.

Fuck The Line. I love it. Best song I've heard in years.

Thank you Twenty One Pilots.

[topgun-imagines]

You’re Never Coming Home (iii)

Requested: no

Summary: The first day of training, Maverick and Bradley have to figure out how to work together. The younger of the two seems reluctant to do so.

Word count: 2.0k

Note: lots of time skips. More of a filler chapter to prepare for the next one.

Warnings: mentions of death, arguments, light angst.

Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Previous part || Next part

There was sun streaming in through the open screen door when you peeled your eyes open. The bed beside you was cold, long since empty after Jake got up this morning. You rolled over, holding the thin sheet against your bare chest as you sat up. A quick glance at the clock told you that it was just after seven. Yawning quietly, you smiled softly as your eyes landed on the folded note on your bedside table.

Morning sweets,

Just wanted to let you know that I love you so much. Hope you had a good sleep and I should be back before supper. Have a great day and make sure you call me if you need anything.

Love you, Jake.

At the bottom, there was a small heart drawn. You ran your finger over it gently, folding up the paper and setting it back on the nightstand. The two of you had spent a few hours talking once you got home. Sitting up in bed, wrapped up in each other's arms, the two of you reminisced about memories from the past. Jake held you as you recounted everything that had happened with Bradley, how you gave yourself to him and he stomped on your heart only a few hours later, and you held him as memories of his wingman's death flooded to the surface. It was a very emotional night.

Only a few hours later, Jake was pressing a kiss to your forehead and climbing out of bed. He got dressed quietly, stealing glances at your sleeping form every now and then. Twenty minutes he was slipping out of the house. What you didn’t know was that he returned a few minutes later to drop off a little gift.

You peeled the curtains open further, sunlight flooding into the cozy bedroom. Connecting your phone to the speaker, you waited patiently for it to beep before hitting shuffle on your playlist. You hummed along as Taylor Swift’s voice began floating through your bedroom. By the time the song was finished, you were fully dressed and taking the stairs two at a time, speaker playing loudly as you brought it downstairs.

Stopping in your tracks, your breath got caught in your throat at the sight of the bouquet of flowers sitting on your kitchen counter. Wrapped in thin tan paper, was a bouquet of baby’s breath flowers. Your heart melted at the sight. One night, nearly four years ago now, you had confessed to Jake about your interest in flowers. You told him all about how you would find out the meaning of certain flowers. Which ones represented love, and which represented friendship.

On your next date, he brought you a small bouquet of baby’s breath, the flowers sitting in front of you now. You were overcome with emotions the second that he handed them to you. Jake was the first person in years to care about you any more than was required by society. Sure, you had a few friends but ever since Bradley, you had never had someone love you the way he did. And as soon as he gave you the flowers, you knew he loved you even more. To pay attention to something that you had briefly mentioned, let alone flowers and their meanings. You wanted to cry at the sight of the delicate flowers.

Now, you stood in the kitchen of the housing that Jake had been assigned, staring at the flowers as you became overwhelmed with emotion. Your fingers brushed over the soft flowers carefully. After a few seconds of simply staring at the small white flowers, you moved further into the kitchen, pulling your water bottle from the fridge.

“Attention on deck!” The pilots stood rigid as Cyclone and Warlock stepped forward. The Air Boss stops beside Hondo as Warlock continues to the podium. Hangman’s eyes stayed locked in front of him, standing rigid as he waited for Warlock to speak.

The man looked down at the podium for a split second before raising his head. “Morning. Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated,” The pilots sat down in unison at the instruction. “I’m Admiral Bates, NAWDC commander. You’re all Top Gun graduates. The elite. The best of the best,” Rooster had a small smile on his face. Two rows in front of him, Jake put a toothpick in his mouth, a cocky smirk on his face. “That was yesterday.”

The group of pilots each instantly became more somber. “The enemy’s new fifth-generation fighter has leveled the playing field. Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technological advantage,” Warlock’s eyes drifted over the pilots in front of him. “Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box.” With that, Jake turned his head, smirking at Phoenix. She turned briefly to meet his stare, looking away seconds later and flipping him off discreetly. A shit-eating grin grew on your boyfriend's face.

“Half of you will make the cut. One of you will be named mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve.” Jake turned, meeting Bradley’s stare with raised eyebrows. The mustached aviator only looked at the cocky pilot blankly.

Warlock continued as Maverick began walking toward them in the large hangar. “Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master,” Maverick’s footsteps echoed through the hangar as he grew closer to the group of pilots. “His exploits are legendary.” The pilots turned their heads to watch their new instructor walk down the aisle toward Warlock. When Jake tuners his head, expertly flipping the toothpick in his mouth, he wished that the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Given his luck, he wasn't surprised that their new instructor was the man that he threw out of the bar last night. While part of him was looking forward to kicking the man's ass for what he did to you, the other part knew that you wouldn't want him to do that. Maverick may have wanted nothing to do with you, but that didn’t mean you wished the man any harm.

The sun was beating down on the pilots as they walked down the tarmac toward their planes. Rooster was walking quickly toward his, trying his hardest to ignore the man calling his name behind him. “Bradley!” That was the second time Maverick had called him, trying his call sign seconds before. Rooster kept walking forward, face fixed into a hard stare.

Maverick sighed. “Lieutenant Bradshaw!” At the use of his formal title, Bradley stopped. He turned to face the older man, his face unreadable. The pilot tried to sound unbothered, but it was easy to hear the irritation that laced his words.

“Yes sir.” Shaking his head slightly, Maverick stopped when he got closer to the younger pilot.

Bradley stared down at him with a blank expression. “Let’s not do it like this.” While he knew that there was dirty laundry to air, but he also knew that this was nowhere near the right place to do that. The two of them would need to have a conversation eventually, one that Maverick was dreading and Bradley was planning on avoiding.

Clenching his jaw, Bradley looked down at his superior. “You gonna wash me out?” Even though Bradley refused to acknowledge it, there was a pained look on Maverick’s face as he shook his head. A part of Maverick was now wishing that it never would have come to this, that he and Bradley never would have drifted apart the way that they did.

The pilot couldn’t take back what he had done, nor did he want to. Even though Bradley stood across from him now, hating the older man with every fibre of his being, he would never take back what he did. His actions bought Bradley an extra four years to prepare for the career he was about to begin. After making a promise to his best friend's widow that he would keep her son safe, pulling his papers was the least he could do. What he could only wish was that Bradley would understand that he did it to protect him.

He looked back up at the younger pilot, instantly reminded of his best friend. “That’ll be up to you, not me.” Bradley nodded slowly. He swallowed sharply and tried to keep his expression stoic.

“Am I dismissed?”

From his plane, Jake could see the two having a tense conversation. While he knew what happened between you and Bradshaw, and what happened between you and Maverick, he had no idea what happened between the two of them. In that moment, he made it his mission to find out.

“How was your day?” The question was out of your mouth before Jake had even closed the door. When you heard the rumble of his truck in the driveway, you headed toward the front door. Jake huffed and tossed his duffle bag onto the ground, practically collapsing into your arms once he was close enough.

He groaned into the soft skin of your neck. “It was the day from hell,” You chuckled quietly and rubbed your hand up and down his back. “Maverick is our instructor,” From that statement alone you could understand why his day was so terrible. Jake had always had trouble accepting the fact that Maverick had practically abandoned you because of Bradshaw’s actions. “One of the other guys made some bet so every time we lost we had to do 200 push up’s.”

You cooed softly. “Oh, my poor baby.” Jake laughed quietly and you grinned at the sound.

“Then Maverick, Bradshaw, and I went up and it was a whole cluster fuck,” That made you snort quietly. It didn’t surprise you that after nearly two decades, the egotistical men still couldn’t get over themselves enough to get the job done. “They did some cobra maneuver bullshit that nearly sent them into the ground.” If Jake felt you freeze, he didn’t say anything.

You may not be very happy with the men right now, but you didn’t want them to get themselves killed. You still cared about them. A glance at the clock told you that it was nearing 10:30 pm. “How about we head to bed, Sailor?” He nodded against your neck.

Silently, the two of you made your way toward your bedroom. Jake helped you strip out of your clothes, transfixed by the sight of your bare skin. He held you as you brushed your teeth, strong arms wound around your middle. You were slightly distracted by the soft kisses that Jake was peppering all across the side of your neck and up your jaw. Moaning softly, You smiled at the feeling and tilted your head to the side. “Let's go to bed, Jake.” You whispered.

Without complaint, Jake followed you to the bed. After a little bit of maneuvering, you and Jake were snuggled comfortably under the sheets. The pilot was curled into your chest as you played with his sandy blond hair. Within seconds, you could feel his breathing even out and hear the soft snores falling from his parted lips.

Just as you were about to drift off to sleep yourself, your phone lit up on the nightstand. A name that you hadn’t seen in a long time was staring back at you when you picked the phone up. Ice was asking if you wanted to get lunch. Why the man was up this late, you couldn’t say. But, instead of questioning the man, you simply agreed, promising to meet up with him tomorrow.

After hitting send and receiving Ice’s simple reply of a thumbs up, you set the phone down and let your eyes fall shut. It only took you a few minutes to drift off, images and flashes of years ago filling your mind as you slept. You had no idea what the next few days would hold.

a/n: Thank you all for reading!! Let me know if you would like to be tagged and stay tuned for future parts :)

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @supercatgirl006 @blueoorchid @dempy @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @sunsetsimpsblog @lovelywiseprincess @fandom-life-12 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @djs8891 @blackwidownat2814 @dakotakazansky @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @memoriesat30 @sarahjoestewy-blog @ducks118 @marvelouslyme96 @linkpk88 @missathlete31 @xoxabs88xox @abbymwall @eternallyvenus @keileighr @rey26 @lt-spork @callsign-ember

Join my taglist!

[dxwnstxr]

i wasn't sure if requests were to be made in the comments or the asks, so apologize in advance if i wasn't supposed to do this.

may i request dazai, chuuya and fyodor with number 9 from the headcanons?

Sharing their spotify playlists

Fandom: Bungou stray dogs

Characters: dazai, chuuya, fyodor

Genre: Fluff, headcanons

Warning: none

A/n: Please note, these are all my opinions of what i think they'd listen to ! ! ! Also I couldn't think of a lot for fyodor 😭 Also decided to try new colors.

🎧 ☆ Dazai ☆ 🎧

"Don't try suicide" by Queen

"Daylight" by David kushner

"A little death" by The Neighborhood

"Na Na Na" by Lay bankz

"XOXO (Kisses hugs)" by 6arelyhuman

"Partners in crime" by Set it off

"If I killed someone for you" by Alec Benjamin

"I wanna be yours" by Artic Monkeys

"Why do you only call me when you're high" by Artic Monkeys

"Stressed out" by Twenty one Pilots

"Heathens" by Twenty one Pilots

"Softcore" by The Neighborhood

"Daddy issue's" by The Neighborhood

"Therefore I am" by Billie Eilish

"Womanizer" by Britney spears

"Jealous girl" by Lana del rey

He showed you his playlist and watch you as your eyes looked up and down at his screen, scrolling down the playlist.

"Hey I know this song!"

You said, pointing to one of them. Dazai's eyes widened as he quickly looked at the screen.

"Ohh that one...I don't listen to it too much"

"Whatt... but it's soo good..!"

You reply, exaggerating some of your words.

"Alright then... why don't you show me yours..?"

🎧 ☆ Chuuya ☆ 🎧

"Criminal" by Britney Spears

"Bad blood" by Taylor Swift

"Panic room" by Au/Ra

"Fashion" by Lady gaga

"Telephone" by Lady gaga

"Jealous girl" Lana del rey

"Smile" by Jann

"I wanna be your slave" by Maneskin

"Work" by Britney spears

"If you seek Amy" by Britney spears

"Judas" by Lady Gaga

"Boyfriend" by Dove Cameron

"Treat me like a slut" by Kim Petras

"Americano" by Lady gaga

"Friends" by Chase Atlantic

"I'm yours" by Isabel LaRosa

"Sk8ter boy" by Avril Lavigne

"Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne

"Fell in love with the Devil" by Avril Lavigne

"Wish you were here" by Avril Lavigne

"Since you've been gone" by Kelly Clarkson

"My happy ending" by Avril Lavigne

As you looked at his playlist, you started to smile at some of the songs you saw.

"I see you're into Britney and Lady Gaga"

Chuuya's eyes widened slightly and a faint brush covers his cheeks.

"S-so..?"

You shake your head and reply.

"Nothing..it just suits you I guess"

Chuuya scoffs at your words and looks at you.

"Let me see who you listen too"

🎧 ☆ Fyodor ☆ 🎧

"Who is she" by I Monster

"Babooshka" by Kate Bush

"Mad hatter" by Melanie Martinez

"Hayloft" by Mother Mother

"Poker face" by Lady Gaga

"Bloody Mary" by Lady Gaga

"Monster" by Lady Gaga

"Bernadette" by IAMX

He takes a sip of his tea as you look at desktop. Spotify was open and his most listened to playlist was being shown.

"You don't listen to a lot of music do you..?"

You ask, seeing how short his playlist is.

"Why would I when I can play my own"

He states, his eyes moving to his cello. You nod.

"I guess you have a point"

He then hums in agreement and tilts his head to look at you.

"What do you listen too myshka..?"

Support divider cr: @cafekitsune

[twohappyboys]

Top Song Of The Day:

[yourimagines]

Hi!

Can you perhaps write a twenty one pilots one shot. Maybe about their newest song that came out.

I love your work, take care!

I really love their new song, overcompensate.

It’s a short one but I hope this is a good one!

Pressure

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Dark, Angsty, Swearing and Fluff

Y/n POV

Tyler was hyped about their newest album coming out soon but he’s also nervous. He’s a perfectionist, he’s never 100% satisfied with his work. Always overthinking, always asking the what if questions. So he was downstairs in his home studio, listening to the album as I was making dinner for us. “Ty? You want some dinner?” I asked him as I stood at the top of the stairs. “Sure.” He answered quietly back. “Okay, I’ll be down in a minute.”

I made him a plate and brought it downstairs to him. He was sitting behind his desk, his headphone covered his left ear. “Here you go handsome.” I placed his plate down on his desk. He turned his head to look up at me and smiles. “Thanks beautiful.” His hand slightly touched my leg. “Are you okay down here?” He nods and turns his head back to the screen. “I’m fine, just making sure the album is finished before we release it.” I gave him a gentle squeeze in his shoulder. “Okay, don’t overthink too much about it.” “I won’t.”

I was tossing around in bed, it was midnight and Tyler was still downstairs. ‘This is not healthy for him.’ I throw my blanket to the side and got out of the bed, I stepped into my slippers and walked downstairs. The house was quiet and dark, the only lights that were on came from his home studio downstairs. “Ty?” I tiredly asked and looked downstairs to look at him. His eyes were glued to his monitor. “Yeah?” He didn’t moved a muscle, like he was possessed by something else. “Are you coming to bed, it’s already past midnight.” He waved his hand and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming in a minute.” I rolled my eyes and turned around. “Okay, see you in a minute.” I left him alone again, knowing he isn’t coming to bed anytime soon.

Tyler POV

My mind was running around as my eyes stared at the computer screen. “Still not good enough.” I changed it again and again. As I grew tired, tired from staying awake for so long. My eyes started to burn from all the lights and no sleep, my migraine was back and was hurting my brain as I’m still not satisfied with the results. “It’s always the same fucking shit.” I groaned and took a sip from my water, looking at the files as the words started to change, changing in those dark thoughts I rather not have lingering around in the back of my mind. “I need Josh’s opinion on this.” I tried to shake off those chilling thoughts and tried to block out those voices that were now screaming in my head. I shared the files with him and looked at the clock, 3am. I rubbed my face and leaned back in my chair, still looking at the monitor as the words on the screen started to fade away, feeling all dizzy and a lot of pressure forming in my chest. My phone buzzed, it was Josh sending me a quick message.

Joshua🥁: I will listen to this asap in the morning 😴

Me: need really your opinion on this one 👌🏻

Joshua🥁: Don’t worry, just get some sleep 💤

I sighed and saved my work and turned everything off. I walked back upstairs and checked if everything was closed off and slumped upstairs to our bedroom. Y/n was already sleeping, as she lay on my side of the bed. ‘I’m so blessed to have her in my life.’ I stripped my clothes off and joined her. As soon I lay next to her she moved closer and lay her head against my chest. “Ty?” She tiredly says as I caressed her back. “Yeah it’s me, just go back to sleep.” I kissed her head and she immediately felt asleep again. I stayed awake for a while, looking at the ceiling, as my migraine started to fill my brain with these dark thoughts about life….

I woke up from the morning sun that shines through our window. She was lying against my chest, all wrapped up around me. My hand went carefully towards her face and gently wiped her hair away. ‘Beautiful.’ Her eyelids slightly moved, a small low hum came from her and with that she opened her eyes. “Good morning beautiful.” I said in my morning voice with a small smile on my face. I caressed her cheek and she smiles tiredly at me and nuzzles her head back into my chest. “Good morning handsome.” She mumbled softly against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and started to rub her back as she started to trace my chest in the morning sunlight shining down on us.

I was downstairs, video calling with Josh. “No, I think it’s good enough, they will love it.” He says as he was eating some breakfast. “I know but I think there is more.” He chuckles and shook his head. “You always say that, believe me it’s good.” I nodded and looked down at my notepad. “You really think so?” I asked him as I was playing with the pen that was laying on my desk, not really feeling sure about it. “Yes I really think so.” I hummed and looked up again. “Okay, then let’s release it.” He nods and gave me a thumbs up. “Let’s do this.” I nodded and saved up our files. “Yeah, let’s do this.” Feeling a bit unsure about this….

——— Release Day Overcompensate ———

Y/N POV

Tyler was nervous again, as their newest song was about to release. “They are so hyped up for this.” Josh said as everyone was hanging around our house. “Are they?” Tyler asked as he looked over at Josh’s phone. “Yes, they can’t wait.” He showed them some comments. Debbie smiled at me as the guys were reading the comments. “They are so cute when they do this.” She says to me. I laughed and nodded. “Yes they are.” Josh was scrolling through the social media apps as Tyler was looking at the reactions. “Can’t wait for them to hear the rest.” He says to Josh. “Me neither.”

The song was released and they were watching the fans react to it. Josh was streaming his phone to the tv, sharing his feed. “They love it.” He says with a smile on his face. Tyler nodded, secretly feeling proud of what they created. “Look at that honey.” Debbie says and wraps her arms around him. “Cool isn’t it.” They were both smiling and pointing some comments out. I lay my head on Tyler’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you.” I said to him as we both were looking at Josh and Debbie who were standing in front of the tv, reading some of the comments out loud. “I know.” He says and grabbed my hand. “This is the last one….” I looked up at him and placed a small kiss on his cheek. “You deserve this my love.” He brought my hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of my hand. “For us.” I smiled and nodded. “For us.”

[emoloser2001]

thanks for the tag @blood-on-the-bluegrass

lock screen, most recent photo, latest show watched & song listened to:

I started rewatching What If recently (which i know, ew marvel)

anyways, tagging: @mitigatedsix @tobbesdiscordkitten @blurrymango @princess-madara and uhh @your-resident-boat-person

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Ode To Sleep • Holding On To You • Migraine • House Of Gold • Car Radio • Semi-Automatic • Screen • The Run And Go • Fake You Out • Guns For Hands • Trees • Truce

Spotify ♪ YouTube

[ettawritesnstudies]

Not to be emo on main but I saw Twenty One Pilots at their hometown show on Sunday and it was such an incredible experience

Tumblr won't let me upload my videos because they're too large but I've been a fan of this band since 2017 and I love all their older music too. I expected them to play Clancy through and then maybe do a couple other hits but I was so surprised and excited when they covered something from every album and both of my favorite songs. (Holding Onto You and Migraine). When Josh showed up as the torchbearer it was in the section next to ours so we had a great view of him.

And the whole thing was recorded for a live concert album! So the camera views were broadcast for the seated people on the big screens and we got to see all the up close details too! I had the time of my life belting along to the songs and I still know nearly all the lyrics. I'm so excited to rewatch the recording when it comes out and hear how the audience mics picked up our voices. There was something so cathartic about hearing a whole auditorium scream lines like "I'm trying to sleep, but I can't when you all have Guns for Hands, DONT TAKE IT TAKE IT TAKE IT!!!" and "Hey, kid, get out of the road!" And because it was a Sunday night and we wouldn't get home until after 1am with alarms set for work at 6:30... "WAKE UP YOU NEED TO MAKE MONEY." There was even a part where we sang the rap part of Ride without a cue.

It was great.

My fiancé didn't know the band at all except for a couple radio hits before the show and I apologized profusely for the Cringe™ before dragging him along to this but everyone was so nice and friendly and Tyler and Josh really know how to put on a great show. The stages were so amazing and the transitions between each part of the setlist was flawless. The crew was working so hard to keep the band safe and coordinated and all the effects looked awesome. Eric had a great time and said this was one of his favorite concerts of mine he's been to. He likes the rock/metal type songs most like heavydirtysoul but I'll have to pull up the lyrics to show him more.

This was my first TøP show I've ever seen and I'm really happy I went. I was debating about buying tickets at first but I'm really really really glad I did. This band has meant a lot to me over the years and gotten me through a lot of tough spots. I'm doing so much better now than I was at 16. While my life isn't perfect and the world is scarier now than it was back then, at 23, I can genuinely say I can envision a future that I look forward to every day.

Stay alive.

[les-pompiers118]

Last call for sin

900 words | rated Teen | Buck angst

A 1x01 coda ficlet for @911hiatus's week one prompt, "hunger." Title from All These Things That I've Done by The Killers, which is a perfect song for pilot Buck (in my humble opinion).

He managed the drive home okay—hands tight around the steering wheel, radio on too loud to keep his thoughts at bay, but he made it. He just put his mind on autopilot and drove. But now that he’s safely on his own front porch, fiddling with the keys in his jacket pocket, Buck feels like he can’t breathe. As if there’s a snake wrapped around his ribcage, squeezing.

He inhales sharply through his nose, then exhales more slowly from his mouth, talking himself through it like he’s his own patient. In… and out. There you go. You’re okay. On the far end of the porch, someone left an empty beer can in the potted geranium that’s languishing between two folding chairs. Buck keeps his eyes fixed on it, both to ground himself while he breathes and to have something—anything—to think about besides what happened yesterday.

He almost lost everything.

In… Out… In… Out…

The front door opens, startling Buck into taking a step back.

“Hey, I thought I heard you pull in,” Kyle says through the screen door. He’s wearing flannel pajama bottoms printed with puffy, cartoon Christmas trees and no shirt. “You okay, man?”

“Yeah, fine. Just didn’t get much sleep.” Buck walks over to the geranium, plucks out the beer can, and hands it to Kyle. “You guys, uh, have someone over last night?”

“Not me. Stayed up late watching a couple movies. I don’t have to work until noon.”

Buck follows Kyle inside, careful not to let the screen door slam. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t. Fucking car alarm next door again. I’m gonna let the air out of their tires next time, I swear to fucking God.”

“I did not hear you say that,” Buck grins, then gestures at Kyle’s pajamas. “Look at a calendar, dude. It’s January.”

“Yeah, so? My mom gave me these. They’re comfortable. Yo, I was about to make some eggs. You want some?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks. Not hungry yet.”

Kyle gives him a thumbs-up and returns to the kitchen, and Buck goes upstairs to his room. The house is quiet at this time of day, at least on weekdays. Weekends are a different matter. Buck usually comes home to find a few friends-of-friends still hanging around for breakfast. Buck doesn’t care, as long as the mess gets cleaned up and no one has crashed in his bed.

God, he’s so damn tired. It’s not that they had a lot of calls last night; he just couldn’t seem to get his brain to switch off. Four straight hours in his bunk without the bell going off, and he wasted them listening to Chimney snore. Buck drops his gym bag on the floor and kicks off his shoes without looking to see where they land. Clothes are peeled off, replaced with sweats. Curtains get pulled closed. Autopilot. On the way to the bed, he catches his reflection in the mirror hanging over the dresser.

And then he can’t breathe again.

This is not a family.

The next time you screw up, it’ll be your last.

You’re done, kid.

In the dim light, Buck sees all the previous versions of himself staring back at him from the mirror, all with the same birthmark and blue eyes, the same nose that’s just a little too long. Twenty-six goddamn years’ worth of them—and it seems he’s no closer to figuring out how not to screw up his own life.

“I fucked up,” Buck whispers. “I fucked up again, Maddie.”

His reflection pleads with him in the mirror, begging for sympathy, but the voice in his head is brisk, sensible. Maddie’s voice.

Okay? What are you going to do about it, Evan?

He hasn’t seen her in years. It’s painful to think of her, still patching up idiots like him in the ER and then going home to her dickhead husband. At least she has one less thing to worry about with her little brother out of her hair. Buck hopes she’s okay. Maybe even happy.

It’s hard to imagine her happy.

It’s been five years since he left Hershey, hungry for something he couldn’t even name. So hungry it hurt. But now he understands what he was seeking as he was crisscrossing the country in her old Jeep: Purpose. Something he could hold up with pride. And people who gave a shit about him. He knows this because yesterday he almost threw all those things away for a couple of meaningless fucks. Jesus.

So. What is he going to do about it? The first step is obvious. Buck sits down on the edge of his bed and begins deleting every dating app off his phone. He’s done. He has to be done.

He makes the mistake of opening the last app. Four messages. Buck scans the profile pictures, his breathing picking up. God, it was an actual nightmare of a shift. That little girl dragged out of her house, bullets—actual fucking bullets—pinging off the fire engine. In two days, Buck’s going to be right back there, facing all kinds of awful shit again, having people’s lives in his hands. And then there’ll be the consequences of his screw-up to face. Bobby’s probably gonna have him scrubbing floors for a month.

Buck lets his thumb hover unsteadily over GirlOnFire94’s picture. The name feels like fate. He clicks.

One last time. He needs this.

His hands don’t stop shaking for a long time.

[dexterkronos]

I can't be the only one who thinks S5 of TMA can best be told with "Navigating" by Twenty One Pilots, right???? Right????? Or even just have it be a Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute song???

I spoiler because omg i'm gonna go rant mode and you should have a barrier.

Obvious spoilers for MAG 160 ~ MAG 200 (The Magnus Archives).

Like just give me a moment to cook. Jmart POV, starts with reflections of Martin in the Lonely ("the haze around my face / makes me feel so alone") OR its to show Jon's thoughts post-Door Open.

"I know you see me standing still / When our fingers touch, I feel my way back home"

This the most MAG 161 & MAG 162 coded shit in history. Martin being the one to act as 'home' as they move from the cabin.

First chorus is just them going through the first set of domains, with 'give me some advice' happening during the Not!Sasha smiting. Maybe there's some flashes of the real Sasha in there, who knows.

"Don't know how long it's been / My, oh my / How things change so rapidly / I find my self-esteem / Then turn so cold"

MAG 166 ~ MAG187 pipeline.

Chorus 2 is the ways to the other domains, eventually ending in the Panopticon.

"Don't know how long it's been / Since I responded to your question / If you really wanna know what I'm thinking"

Annabelle and Hill Top scene. I take my seat.

"Kind of feels like everybody leaves / Feeling the reality that everybody leaves / My dad just lost his mom, I think that everybody leaves / And I'm trying to hold onto you / 'Cause everybody leaves"

YOU CANNOT TELL ME THIS ISN'T THE PRE-JONAH STAB CONVO IN A NUTSHELL. YOU CANNOT DELUDE ME AWAY FROM THIS IM DYING ON THIS HILL-

Second-to-last chorus is the Jonah erasure stuff lol

AND THE FINAL LENGTH OF THE SONG, IS JUST MAG 200 TEARING US TO PIECES WITH INTERLACED FLASHBACKS ENDING WITH A BLACK SCREEN TO RUIN US EMOTIONALLY.

So anyway have fun with this torture :3

[pardonmydelays]

prison gang as tøp songs?

everyone gets three songs, because i just couldn't decide (i even made a playlist but it's more for me than for you cause i'm not gonna force you to listen to it, obviously). there will be very little explanation, just some quotes:

ME: forest + car radio + backslide (forest is the one i relate to the most, it's not on spotify so youtube is your only option if you wanna listen to it)

the situation's becoming dire, my treehouse is on fire and for some reason i smell gas on my hands, this is not what i had planned...

i'm forced to deal with what i feel, there is no distraction to mask what is real, i could pull the steering wheel

cause i feel the pull, water's over my head, strength enough for one more time, reach my hand above the tide, i'll take anything you have if you could throw me a line...

BEL: heavydirtysoul + midwest indigo + migraine (in my mind those are your songs now, they are not mine anymore, and i honestly love it so very much)

gangsters don't cry, therefore, therefore i'm mr misty-eyed... can you save my heavy dirty soul?

i want love and sunny days, i'm a bit too old to run away, you make me sad and second-guess myself, you can be so cold...

am i the only one i know waging my wars behind my face and above my throat? shadows will scream that i'm alone... but i know we've made it this far, kid.

RED: formidable + paladin strait + bandito (for some reason i gave you all joshler songs, and yes, formidable is not about jenna, it's about josh)

i'll follow you, but you should know, i might be cynical towards you, i'm just worried my loyalty will bore you, i can die with you, just let me know.

i would swim the paladin strait without any floatation, just a glimpse of visual aid of you on the other shoreline, waiting, expectations that i'm gonna make it...

i could take the high road, but i know that i'm going low... i'm a ban-, i'm a bandito...

ANIX: taxi cab + the craving (jenna's version) + nico and the niners (i was crying while typing this, especially because of taxi cab, maybe i will explain it to you one day)

i know the night will turn to grey, i know the stars will start to fade when all the darkness fades away, we had to steal him from his fate so he could see another day...

say enough, say enough, did i let her know, let her know? if i found my body in chains i'd lay down and wait and hope she looks for me...

i'm careless when i wear my rebel clothes, when bishops come together they will know that dema don't control us.

M: oh ms believer + screen + shy away (two of those three always make me cry, i don't know why but in your case it was such an obvious choice)

oh, ms believer, my pretty weeper, your twisted thoughts are like snow on the rooftops, please take my hand, we're in foreign land, as we travel through snow, together we go...

i do not know why i would go in front of you and hide my soul, cause you're the only one who knows it... yeah, you're the only one who knows it.

don't you shy away, manifest a ceiling when you shy away, searching for that feeling just like an "i love you" that isn't words, like a song he wrote that's never heard.

EDITH: tear in my heart + we don't believe what's on tv + oldies station (it's totally not because you love oldies station, but somehow i feel like even if you don't like twenty one pilots, you may actually like those three)

sometimes you gotta bleed to know that you're alive and have a soul, but it takes someone to come around and show you how...

i need to know that when i fail you'll still be here, cause if you stick around i'll sing you pretty sounds and we'll make money selling your hair

add some years, build some trust, you start to feel your eyes adjust, when darkness rolls on you, push on through.

[yourneighborhoodporg]

The Guardian

Chapter 8: Blackened Water (Part 1)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: graphic descriptions of migraines, mention of sleeplessness/loss of appetite, self-sacrifice (if ya squint), angst, fluff, banter, descriptions of violence.

Summary: It had been two weeks since you arrived on Coruscant when The Chosen One invited you to join him in an impromptu Starfighter piloting session. After reminiscing about the weeks prior, you, Anakin, Ahsoka, and R2-D2 decide to transform the lesson into a game. However, you are quick to learn that pushing this ship to its limit was sure to have unintended complications.

Song Inspo: Migraine — Twenty One Pilots

Words: 6k

A/n: Looks like things are about to get complicated... please comment/pm if you'd like to be on the Taglist! And lmk your thoughts on this chapter :)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

So much like the moon, we show the world only one and veil our many faces, even from the sun — Jason Versey

“It’s not that I don’t want to learn how to pilot a Starfighter, I’m just not sure if I want to learn from you.”

You spoke forcefully into the comlink headset, its rounded, copper microphone hovering inches from quarrelsome lips. You were currently situated in a Republic Starfighter’s Co-Pilot Forward Gunner’s cockpit, and its rushing drone was creating a deafening habitat that drove you to raise your voice had you any hope of communicating with Anakin, Ahsoka, or Anakin’s droid companion R2-D2 at any point during this flight. Still, the boundless rush failed to block you from continuing your exploration of the fighter’s gunnery controls, spelled out by the glaring interactive screen nestled in the jutted crook to your right.

“I’ll have you know that I’m the best pilot the Jedi have, if not, the Galaxy,” Anakin defended, his mechanically muffled voice crackling into your earpiece while he directed the fighter’s acceleration around Coruscant’s curvature.

You flexed a doubtful brow at his cockiness, despite his inability to see you from the main pilot’s cockpit stationed a meter ahead, just before the bird’s nose.

“Weren’t you the one who crash-landed that shuttle on Hoth in the first place?” You challenged.

“They’ve got you there,” Ahsoka piped up, the young voice spluttering through your headset from her perch in the tail gunner’s pit directly behind.

“That wasn’t my fault,” he huffed.

You shook your head at the exchange, levity conquering facial muscles that usually endured some semblance of placidity as you carried on with your analysis of the ship’s offensive capabilities.

In the seconds that followed, a brief silence unfolded across the fighter’s private comms channel, though that didn’t deter you from continuing to tap away at the informative screen just below your fingertips. Needless to say, despite focusing your mind on canons and proton torpedo launcher specifications, the prolonged lull in conversation streamlined your thoughts into deeper ruminations as your evolving muscle memory assumed control.

It had been nearly two weeks since your arrival on Coruscant, and you were finding that you had a knack for acclimating quickly to the drastically contrasting environment. The warmer weather, busier urban environment, and abundance of Jedi-specific resources were quite the staggering changes from your meager, solitary existence among boundless blizzards and bloodthirsty beasts.

So, it didn’t take much convincing to welcome the transition with open arms.

You were still settling in, so, rationally, you recognized that you weren’t as versed in the Jedi Temple’s daily happenings as its more veteran residents. However, from the behavior you observed alone, you could still tell that time dragged far more gradually than the status quo, even when compared to the beginning few days of your arrival.

At first, you noticed that meetings among the Jedi Council had become less frequent. There was little to discuss while they awaited news from Temple technicians who, sector-by-sector, continued their analysis of each minutia of the Jedi’s expansive communications array. And when they did convene, it was usually due to handfuls of temporarily visiting clones, dispatched from their units to deliver on-the-ground intelligence directly to assigned generals who would then liaise any necessary information to the Council for further instructions.

Generals, you sighed inwardly. The taste of that word being used to describe Jedi was still akin to the tangy expiration of blue milk. A sign of the times, you supposed. So, again, you pushed that thought away.

You continued your recollection, even harking back to that strange, incongruous feeling that overcame your senses when you spotted your first set of clones. Rationally, you knew what to expect. Beings that looked exactly like each other in most, if not every conceivable way. Though, despite that assumption, you’d found that even in the briefest of interactions, these clones seemed to be some of the most diverse and spirited individuals you’d ever met.

Sure, you hadn’t chanced upon that many beings in your lifetime. But of the few troopers you did encounter, they certainly stood in stark contrast against that backdrop of Coruscanti civilians and Jedi from your recent past.

They were dedicated to their craft and their generals, drove into the depths of battle without the protection of the Force, and supported each other like true brothers in arms.

And with all your being, you commended that.

Maybe that’s why you were looking forward to meeting more of their comrades and discovering how their relationship with the Jedi Order came to be. You could only learn so much from those few, fleeting conversations in a passing walkway. Especially because their presence was always so short-lived.

Once a new directive was assigned by the Council, the visiting batches were soon whisked away, once again into the strange, galaxy-wide relay race in the name of secure communications while the Council melted back into their brief slumber. You supposed it was the natural consequence of the Republic Army’s temporary reliance on snail mail, but it was all still so strange nonetheless.

You had to admit, though, that things had begun to pick up in the last week. You remembered hearing passively from a congregation of Masters moving through a large hall one afternoon, that a smattering of Jedi had been sent out alongside the most recent collection of clone drop-ins. Some of those named individuals returned after a few days, having spotted them in the Archives, a refractory, or even conversing with Master Windu.

But the ones you didn’t see again?

You could only assume that they were continuing to traverse the Galaxy on some unknown mission in the name of peace.

But word of mouth was not your only source of information regarding the curbed release of Jedi back to the Front. You had, at times, happened to see it for yourself. Like just the other day, when passing by one of the Temple’s main hangars on the way to another sparring session with Anakin. Just by chance, out of the corner of your eye, you’d caught a pair of Jedi preparing to depart alone. There was no clone in sight by their powered-up Nu-class attack shuttle, red and white markings trailing its spine as it gaily awaited the two passengers conversing lowly at the bottom of the boarding ramp. You remembered it was a duo of black-robbed, green-tinted Mirialans— Master and Padawan, their relative ages suggested. Off to another untold destination, but, this time, without a crew of troopers.

You recalled thinking at that moment: maybe the Council has grown more agreeable with the concept of dispatching Jedi alone to temporary assignments?

Then again, their sudden departure might have had more to do with the need to immediately transmit vital information to a distant battalion than anything else.

Either way, it was all a guess. You had learned fairly quickly in your time at the Temple that The Council considered most wartime information as need-to-know. Even Master Windu, in the few times you’d met with him, was reticent to share any news with you that didn’t directly concern your being.

At any rate, those instances of strategic departures were rare, leaving many Jedi to find a way to occupy themselves during this involuntary downtime.

You, personally, were utilizing this time the best way you could— as an opportunity to address the persistent migraines that’d been plaguing you for the past week and a half.

Even in the cockpit of a Starfighter, thousands of kilometers away from Coruscant’s golden inscriptions, you could still recall it all so perfectly.

They would start off imperceptibly stunted, pecking away at your senses so gently that you’d barely notice their presence until the draining aches inflamed into pounding thumps deep at the core of your brainstem.

The worst part was that you never knew when they were going to strike next. It was just all so…sporadic.

They’d crawl into your sinuses during early afternoon drills, nibbling at your attention mere minutes into attempting a particularly complicated, defensive acrobatic which would accordingly backfire from the ordeal’s impetuosity. Other times, it was in the evening, usually erupting in your skull halfway through supper, and, often, smack dab in the middle of a sentence aimed at one of the three Jedi who’d whisked you away from Hoth weeks ago.

Naturally, regardless of your hope to learn more about The Chosen One, his former Master, and Padawan during these times, this strange affliction’s consequences would routinely cut such moments short. The second that distinctive, rising thunder would rumble, you were pressed to conjure up some excuse to retire early, leaving most of your plain meal uneaten from the unexpected loss of appetite in each premature retreat to your quarters.

In addition to coping with the persistently tugging weights chained to the back of your eyeballs, you were, to the best of your ability, trying to keep its effects as discreet as possible. You’d keep your signature muted and expression neutral as the warning signs of an impending strike encroached on your senses, removing yourself from whichever training, social, or study activity may have fanned its flames.

But despite it all, these considerations were not enough to deter the occasional wisp of care that would flutter from Ahsoka’s brows following your early conclusion of a joint study session. Or the flare of worry that would spurt behind Anakin’s fiery eyes after you ended a spar prematurely, hand cradling your forehead the moment you’d retreated from his line of vision.

Your efforts to obscure any reflection of pain especially did little to dissuade the concern that rippled across Obi-Wan’s features last night, when in the middle of a teasing escapade with Anakin, your brilliant grin faltered into a thin, immutable line as a sudden spear to the base of your skull compelled you to briskly break off from the group before the impartial expression you strained to support wavered.

Discerningly, you understood that despite your efforts, the three of them knew something was transpiring. Still, you were confident enough that your exercise in representing these headaches as sudden fatigue would present these moments as too bland to warrant serious discussion.

You wanted, no, needed to keep any sense of severity to a minimum. You’d spent the last decade alone on a lethal, ice planet, your entire life being the sum experience of staring down danger’s sharpest teeth and shaving them blunt by yourself. All in all, you’d certainly dealt with threats far greater than the danger of a persistent set of migraines, you joked inwardly. So you knew that, with time, you’d figure out how to trim away this roadblock too.

And without involving The Chosen One.

You thought back to your first working theory of the issue, that your body was still adapting to its changed environment. Even though you felt energized by this new planet’s radiant sunlight, the heat could have still affected you more than you first realized. But even with this, you understood that only time would tell.

In the interim, you found it unnecessary to worry your Jedi acquaintances. They had no need for knowledge of your sleepless nights, fueled by mushrooming, stings bursting behind your forehead. Shattering you awake in a puddle of strenuous sweat and breathless utterances that disheveled your sheets.

“Just go away already,” you huffed one early morning.

You were The Guardian after all. Tasked with protecting The Chosen One. Roping in others to aid you in your own, comparably minuscule toils would have stood in quiet opposition to your title’s purpose.

Yes. You were convinced. You’d find a solution some other way.

Anyways, addressing your mind’s inner facets was only a small strand in the meadow of free time that had laid at your fingertips. You also took an appreciable advantage of the interim to explore your new home— The Jedi Temple.

You recalled finding it somewhat overwhelming, the Temple’s colossal model, constructed piece-by-piece over thousands of years with the building blocks of Jedi evolution and spirituality. But, in spite of its sweeping presence, you felt uninhibited to tour each nook and cranny like the labyrinth it was.

You’d encountered many Jedi this way, all in various training dojos, halls, gardens, and other, more secluded, areas as they too took advantage of the passing days to train, meditate, or study. It was actually how you, twice, inadvertently ran into Anakin and Ahsoka, during these cursory, investigative stints. Once, while they were in the midst of a spar, and the other, amid one of Anakin’s on-the-fly lessons about the reality of the battlefield.

Sitting here in this rumbling, Starfighter’s primary gunner cockpit, you had to admit that you were really delighted when you saw them like this. Working as Master and Padawan in their own, unique way. It proved to you that Anakin was taking his Mastership more seriously.

You remembered how he’d expressed to you his hesitancy with being assigned a Padawan last week as the two of you strolled down one of the Temple’s many walkways in search of an empty training room. Though you were not surprised, as it was something that you already learned from Obi-Wan, who had complained about this very issue to you over one of your evening meals. A plate of hawk-bat eggs, if you recalled correctly. He cited to you the young Jedi’s reluctance to attend several of Ahsoka’s training remote sessions, which, according to Master Kenobi, was an important, reoccurring exercise prescribed to all Padawans.

Separately, you’d happened to already know how the Jedi Order historically drove responsibility into its members. It was not just via off-world missions or Knighthood trials, but through the combined experience of guiding the young with one’s own expertise. Qui-Gon often mentioned how his mentorship years morphed him into the wise and capable man you’d known him to be. And you didn’t believe either that Anakin was immune to such windows into maturity.

So, at that moment, with the protesting, chestnut-haired Jedi strolling inches from your side, you were sure to remind the irresolute man that they wouldn’t have given him that duty had they not believed him to be ready.

“Now you’re starting to sound like Obi-Wan.” He huffed, crossing his arms as you both continued your brisk saunter. “I’m just not meant to have a Padawan!”

You eyed the insistent Jedi soberly. “Anakin, I’ll tell you one thing. For someone who I know hopes to grow as a Jedi, you certainly seem to tie your own feet together when the perfect opportunities to do so present themselves.”

That conversation must’ve knocked a bolt loose in that rigid mind of his, you supposed, after seeing with your own eyes his efforts to do more as her Master in the days that followed.

And that included today. In this bulky, ARC-170 Starfighter. The inspiration for Anakin’s decision to kill two buzzbirds with one stone.

After admitting to your limited, hands-on piloting experience over that same dinner you’d ended early the night before, Anakin posed the brilliant idea of teaching you himself. A proposition you’d have had better luck turning down had he not already been planning to take Ahsoka out into the exosphere to deliver his own set of ad-hoc tutorials.

If you could even call it that.

According to him, all he had to do was reserve a different Starfighter class and the three of you would be good to go. So, you accepted, hoping all the way up until you entered the secondary cockpit that maybe Anakin had a preplanned lesson that wouldn’t end in infamy.

That was, of course, until the actual flying started.

Refocusing your attention to continue inspecting the gunner controls to your right, you soon found greater ease in probing the laser canons’ maneuverability with time. In fact, you were able to quite quickly understand this new model’s updated variations, and how those tied into its modernized combative functions. This was most transparent earlier at the flight’s start, when, after a short brief from Anakin, you were comfortable enough to trigger the fighter’s new S-foil wing system, a state-of-the-art feature which supposedly allowed for greater heat dispersion between the ship’s engines and canons in high-speed situations.

Yes, you lacked the heuristic flying and gunner skills, but your studies on Hoth were not for naught. You had long ago memorized the user-based functionalities of older starships. Its parts, controls, functions, and capabilities, employing your own shelter as a dissectible specimen to fuel your understanding. So, while you didn’t have Anakin’s piloting experience or dexterity, you were still rather capable of exercising that garnered knowledge to pick up parallel operations fairly quickly.

It was also why, in reaching hour two of Anakin’s lesson, his sporadic, step-by-step sputterings of how and when he engaged elementary control functions did little to quench your parched alacrity.

So, you broke the silence.

“So…when are the gunners gonna become pilots?” You asked, both on your and Ahsoka’s behalf.

“You think you’re ready to take the reins?” Anakin raised, a hint of playfulness echoing behind the occasional pop of the radioed voice in your ear.

You smirked. “Only one way to find out.”

Just as you finished, a small, yellow window blinked open at the top of your screen. You briskly scanned it, recognizing the primary controls transfer confirmation request before gingerly tapping accept.

In half a second, the flight computer once shrouded in darkness directly in front of you flickered to life. It began by displaying various levels of system readiness in navy blue text on the left. Shield artillery, forward and aft stability, among others. On the opposite side shone the fighter’s coordinate plane, a graphed image depicting the ship’s location based on immediate surroundings that were divided by orange, sectional rings.

They all buzzed to life in conjunction with a control panel of glowing, kaleidoscopic buttons, switches, and several familiar levers, their color-coded rings now steadily blinking a range of unnatural reds, blues, and yellows by your fingertips.

“Let’s see what you got,” Anakin crackled through.

You hummed in concentration while wrapping a set of fingers around the navigation lever, feeling its give as you put your other hand to work adjusting the bird’s speed parameters on the animated control panel. Once the specifications were fixed, you lifted your head back toward the speckled darkness of space, gently nudging the lever forward to dip the fighter.

And you sensed the change immediately.

The modest pressure of your back suddenly tugging to the rear support infused your fingertips with dawning excitement. You pulled the lever toward you with greater confidence now in the directional shift, sensing the variation in the fighter’s ascent while absorbing your first taste of the craft’s feel, as well as its movement’s interaction with the Force.

Before long, your certainty swelled further, stirring you to twist the rapidly scaling fighter into a backward loop while listening to the metal grunt merrily around you.

Despite swiftly finishing that circle, you were reticent to give the bird a moment to rest. Instead, you directed the Starfighter to climb once more, adjusting the panel controls for a hammerhead descent. Even now, in this rapid ascent, you body still prickled at the fighter’s consistency with the imputed speed adjustments as you neared the desired pivot point.

Then, you felt it.

That minute weightlessness that commanded you to yank the navigational lever to the right, bringing the ship into another sharp, controlled dive for a few seconds before leveling it off into a normal flight pattern.

“Not bad,” Anakin began. “But those little tricks aren’t gonna do much good on the battlefield.”

“It’s not like we have any battle droids for target practice,” Ahsoka commented. “Or anything to train in defending against.”

She had a point, you considered inwardly.

But if your time on a deserted planet taught you anything, it was that even the most resourceless locales could be molded into an advantage.

“And isn’t this a clone ship?” She continued.

You glanced around at your surroundings beyond the compact cockpit as their conversation reigned unabated, hoping to catch sight of anything that could be put to use as you stuck to the fighter’s default flight path programmed to circulate Coruscant’s outer edge.

“Yeah,” Anakin irritatedly drew. “But it was the only model that could fit three beings. It’s similar enough to the Delta-7s anyways.”

A sudden, protesting flurry of high-pitched, sundry beeps sloped in pitch from your headset, but still failed to draw your preoccupied glare away from its scan of the region.

Though it did precipitate a sigh in the blue-eyed Jedi

“Sorry, Artoo. Three beings, and a droid.”

Then, you spotted it.

A few hundred kilometers to your right floated a scattered array of tiny meteors, traveling in an undefined shape at an imperceptible speed. Far enough away from Coruscant to avoid accidental atmospheric entry, and small enough to avoid causing any real damage to a fighter with as heavy shielding as this one.

“I may have a solution to that,” you voiced while veering the Starfighter’s nose toward the crumbly assemblage of hickory brown space rocks.

“Let’s hear it!” Ahsoka eagerly exclaimed, having had little else to do but listen to Anakin’s instructions in the rear gunner pod for the last few hours.

“You see that up ahead?” You asked, nodding to the nonspecific structure before remembering that your companions couldn’t see you.

“The meteors?” Anakin questioned.

You cognitively hummed, the formation expanding as the fighter quickly neared its destination.

“Nope,” you popped. “That, is an enemy starship.” You asserted. “Anakin, how’s your object manipulation?”

He scoffed. “Do you even need to ask?”

“Even in space?” You lightly teased, bringing the bird in to perpetually circumnavigate the ruble consortium.

“Especially in space.”

Somehow, you could almost taste his grin through your rumbling headset.

“I’m holding you to that,” you quipped, a small smile slipping by your lips.

Without skipping a beat, you leaned your head back to address Ahsoka. “Master Skywalker here is gonna be our intrepid, enemy gunner.”

You gesticulated toward the backdrop. “These rocks are his ammo. I’ll be the primary pilot, and, Ahsoka, you’re my gunner. Oh! And Artoo?”

You glanced up at the droid’s blue and white head, peeking out from his secured cavity in the center of a divider wall that separated you and Ahsoka.

“Do try to keep Anakin from accidentally destroying our way home.”

The droid buzzed in a rising chime of inspirited affirmation as his head danced into a spin.

“Don’t worry, Artoo,” Ahsoka reassured while the air of your cabin flooded with the fizzing whir of her dorsal canon elevating. “Silvey and I will make sure you don’t have much work to do.”

“It seems I must teach you a lesson in speaking too soon, my young Padawan,” Anakin sassed.

“Alright,” you interjected, keeping an eye on the meteor cluster to your left. “The battle starts now.”

“Let’s have it.”

Just as those final words fluttered from your dried lips, a fluctuation in the hovering mass caught your eye. You centered your vision, catching a knot of nearly twenty rocks assembling into a spearhead formation near the crowd’s outer rim. That was, before, without notice, those jagged rocks sharply launched toward the fighter’s closest flank.

“Hold on!” You called out instinctively before bringing the bird down into a sudden plunge.

The whizzing meteor configuration rushed after the Starfighter’s tail, giving Ahsoka the prime latitude to start shooting down the shard-like projectiles with the zapping hiss of her maneuverable canon.

While Anakin’s Padawan sustained her calculated assault on the cluster’s center bludgeoners, you, however, were beginning to sense a hairsplitting breakaway in their diving formation. Intending to investigate this further, you glanced at the coordinate plane to the right of your screen. There, you soon spotted two chaotic bundles of flashing red dots, rapidly approaching either wing at a speed that doubled their blinking rate.

This discovery was, naturally, followed by the occasional, yet abruptly swelling, clangs of eluding debris that bounced off the bird’s aft. Thankfully, Artoo was at the ready, already working to readjust the deflector shields to the rear as he emitted an arrangement of disapproving, bellowed beeps.

“I’m doing my best, Artoo!” Ahsoka droned.

You, on the other hand, were keeping careful attention on those threatening, crimson flecks. So much so, that your grip on the throttle mindlessly tightened as they relentlessly inched and inched ever so closer.

But you waited, relaying their distance internally from the screen’s navigation display as you formulated a plan on the fly.

100 meters…50 meters…15 meters.

This should work.

You wrenched the lever to the right, hard, bringing the fighter into a sudden tilt. The wings parked at 12 and 6 o’clock as the rocks once speedily approaching each end blindly whizzed over your head and by the ship’s belly.

You paused here for only a moment, permitting the last pebble to zoom past before righting the fighter.

Now, having brought the environment back into a gradual equilibrium, you’d believed the fore was secure enough for you to address the swelling pummeling you were receiving from behind. So you stretched your neck back, expecting to momentarily check in with Ahsoka’s progress.

But in that ever so brief twist away from the viewport, you just as suddenly sensed some whirlwind convergence in the path of the bird’s nose.

Having spun around, eyes searching, you were soon able to abruptly spy those same, once-dodged clusters presently returning with newfound vengeance.

“Anakin…” you chided, taking the fighter into another evading dip. “Last time I checked, laser bolts can’t redirect themselves.”

“These are…special laser bolts,” The Chosen One brightly justified as his dual-speared formations endured an unforgiving swoop and approach.

You huffed, once more returning to the panel to readjust the speed parameters before taking the ship up again in hopes of shaking these ‘Silvey-seeking lasers.’

The next twenty or so minutes of this little, spontaneous exercise protracted more of the same. Ahsoka primarily handled all the aft attacks. And any time a knot of projectiles came whistling toward the fighter’s flanks or fore, you retained a calculated quickness in twisting, looping, or diving away to elude the enemy.

You did this especially well when, at some point, Anakin guided his mineral minions into another full-frontal attack. With minimal latency, you rolled the ship into a small curve, swiftly pointing its tail at the hastily advancing masses so that Ahsoka could take over, all in an effort to tighten these battle-necessary skills.

It was all fun and games, of course, until Artoo erupted into a fit of jangling chirps, which you altogether roughly interpreted as a plea to pause.

It was in those following moments that, you too, started to notice the crater-like burrows that speckled the ship’s hull and nose, its cherry red, warpaint bands unreasonably chipped, and its canon arms dented.

And you could only imagine what the aft looked like.

It was clear that the three of you had certainly given this Starfighter a thorough beating.

“Sorry buddy,” you replied while gradually levying the ship to a standstill.

You assumed Anakin had also received the memo as the previously merciless bombardment of space debris clusters stalled like sleeping statues around you, blanketing back into the natural confines of the surrounding white-speckled vacuum.

“Guess the drill got away from us,” you continued, bringing up the command controls transfer menu on your screen before programming it to relay all functions to the main cockpit.

You endured in the same breath, powering down the canon engines with a deflated huff. “If you need any help with the repairs, my hands are yours.”

No matter his noticeable frustrations, the astromech must have still appreciated the offer as your headset swiftly resounded with spirited whistles of gratitude.

“Okay,” Anakin uttered, the secondary pilot screen, panel, and levers before you dimming back into the blackness of your cabin with a depleted drone as he accepted the changeover. “One more thing I want to try before we rotate positions.”

Your attentiveness toward Skywalker’s words was short-lived, however, as an unexpected, shrill blare resounded throughout your suffocating compartment.

“Um,” Ahsoka emitted.

Instinctively, you glanced at the single active interface to your right, only to register a flashing red warning plastered above the primary gunner controls. Then, just seconds into your efforts to detect the source, a female voice spilled into the exposed space, parroting the same admonition flashing before your eyes from interior speakers.

“Uh, Anakin?” You articulated, staring at the now, decidedly visible safety warning. “Why are you suppressing the inertial dampeners?”

“I want to test the terminal rotational velocity of this new model before it’s dispatched to my battalion,” he nonchalantly explained.

You peeked down at his cockpit, registering the ever-shifting essence of the back of his head as he seemingly prepped the ship for whatever stunt was next on the agenda.

“Isn’t that what the piloting screen’s for?” Ahsoka challenged. “To give you those numbers?”

“Yes,” he muttered, annoyed. “But I can’t get a good feel for its real maneuverability with the dampeners at max.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna like this,” you breathed while the batting crimson glow of the ship’s safety system dragged on its incessant screech.

“Don’t worry,” Anakin cheered seconds before a thrumming, mechanical purr sounded from either side of the ship. “It’s perfectly safe.”

Your head swiveled toward the hums, enabling you to notice the wings’ X formation slowly collapse into a thicker, horizontal line with a metallic snap.

“I think the warning lady disagrees with you,” Ahsoka deadpanned while Artoo chirped in with jumbled blips of agreement.

You exhaled. “I’m gonna have to jump in on this bandwagon, too, Anakin.”

You reflexively gesticulated to your right.

“Closing the wings will burn us up.”

“Only if the canon engines are on, which you turned off,” he reminded. “Besides, having them open will drag our rotational speed.”

Realizing that his mind was made up, you relented, leaning back into your cushioned backrest as you folded your arms in a mix of apprehension and quiet protest.

Logically, you knew Anakin was a talented pilot. But in the short time you’d known him, he always seemed to be one switch away from a reckless decision that couldn’t be rescinded. You could only rely on the Force to warn you otherwise but, for now, you took comfort instead in mumbling one reoccurring thought aloud.

“I’m gonna regret this.”

“Okay, prepare yourselves,” the blue-eyed Jedi declared as you felt the uniform pull of a Starfighter in motion.

Anakin was not one to dally, you knew that too. But you were also not quite expecting the speed or suddenness with which he instantly accelerated the craft.

Mere meters into the flight, the chestnut-haired Jedi launched the fighter with the momentum of a passionate lightning bolt, driving your entire being to squash back as the sudden force partially flattened your skin and burrowed in between chapped lips and suddenly exposed gums. Your hands shot impulsively out to either side of the cramped cockpit, flattened palms shoving against both engine-warmed walls for some semblance of balance.

But it was no use. The thrill-seeking man continued to drive the bird to newly discovered, exponential speeds.

Mind briefly flickering, you recalled your other Jedi companion while trying to catch your breath. You could only imagine what poor Ahsoka was experiencing on the opposite side of the craft as she was thrust forward by the inverse velocity.

But evidently, none of these worries had crossed Anakin’s mind. Instead, you imagined his eyes’ were thinly focused on the speedometer as he sensed the pulverizing oppressions around him.

That was, you guessed, until he found a tempo that finally suited his rotational needs because just as promptly as he accelerated, the adrenaline-addicted man sharply jerked the Starfighter mid-race into a tight, unyielding roll.

The only word you could use to describe the sensation, was uncanny.

There was something about the way it dragged you from your awareness. The feeling of being simultaneously smashed together and ripped apart across every point of your body not only blurred your vision, but it seemed to draw you far enough away from your senses that you could barely feel the comforting touch of the Force. It was as if it flowed inches from your fingernails, but not close enough to wet them.

Still there, but just out of reach.

Instead, your entire experience centered on the raw rush of a repressive speed’s disconnected passions as the fighter’s rotations puckered.

Then, you felt a familiar twinge rap at your forehead’s center.

You tried to thrust it away, refocusing your attention on the feel of the increasingly searing metal under outstretched fingertips to ground yourself. But even as you did so, a new wave of clamoring throbs smacked you upside the head, blasting you into a new realm of haziness.

You knew the drill. An unpleasant, yet manageable headache like this one was sure to last a long while. The rest of the morning, perhaps, if recent history had any say. But they hadn’t prevented you from addressing more pressing matters. Like those involved with gunning a Starfighter.

Or surviving one of Anakin’s test flights.

At least, not up until this point.

By some means, the keen pulse that was now branching into your sinuses and across the bridge of your nose suddenly developed a more piercing vigor. Each jab increasingly resembled the perforations of a bayonet, as if some invisible force was repeatedly impaling your skull like a pirate digging for lost treasures. Time became relative while your entire dome felt like a massive, gaping wound, unlatched to a world of acidic fingernails that hungrily tunneled through the gash.

You retracted both arms from the cockpit’s flanks, allowing your body to writhe to the rhythms of spinning g-forces as you slammed each flattened palm against the sides of your head. While the agony deepened at a rate comparable to the twisting ship’s bolt, you pressed down on your sinuses, harshly, charged with the secret desire to squeeze out the pain with your brain marching inches behind if need be.

Just as rapidly, you could tell that you were reaching a breaking point in your silent fortitude. With the caliber at which this was worsening, you knew that, very soon, it was going to be too strenuous to keep your involuntary, disturbed vocalizations to a minimum. You couldn’t take it. It was too much.

You just needed it to stop.

You needed everything to stop.

“Stop…” you croaked weakly.

But it was too soft for the headset to register as the fighter continued its twirling trek with no acknowledgment from any passengers.

So you tried again, with just a tad more energy.

“Please, stop…”

Your depleted voice was washed away by the dogged bawl of the earsplitting siren which kept drenching your vision in cycles of cerise.

Another shattering knife ran through your skull with a burning fire that combatted that of the ship’s engines as it steadily milked your eyes for brimming tears.

You gasped.

“Anakin, stop!”

The Starfighter abruptly decelerated, steadily relaxing into a leveled state as the deadening drone of easing engines devolved into a bass grunt.

You welcomed the instantaneous airlessness that invaded your bones and softened your skin as the cabin depressurized. Somehow, in the seconds that followed, it had even given you a momentary burst of vitality, supplying a few seconds for you to reach out to Force’s boundless flow.

Yet, despite quickly intertwining yourself with its reassuring brush, the exquisite ache that racked your head was hardly tempered by the change of pace.

“My bad,” Anakin chuckled lightly. “Got carried away.”

There was nothing you could do to block the shaky breath that trembled past drained lips.

“Silvey?” Anakin questioned stiffly, having seemingly heard your pained exhale.

“What’s wrong?” Ahsoka intently inquired through a headset that truly felt light years away. “Did something happen?”

Out of barely-centered vision, you caught a bushy-haired shape in the main cockpit contort toward your form as a soft voice invaded your ears.

“Hey, are you…?”

“I think it’s time for Ahsoka to take my place,” you shoved out, gravelly voice nearly betraying you before you relented, resting your eyelids in a temporary rest.

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