#just me and my little raft made of sticks

[meechlamajor]

juju watkins

JUJU WATKINS AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND: HEADCANONS

Your relationship dynamic:

Juju loves to annoy you for fun, in little ways that still make you laugh. Once you both were laying in bed cuddling together. She had her head in your neck when all of a sudden she bit the cartilage of your ear.

The warm feeling of her breath made you squirm but you couldn’t help but laugh at how random that was.

“I don’t know, it was just looking at me and begging for me to bite it.

There’s a whole lot of love between you two, and things like this is just one of the ways that Juju preferred to show it.

You’re both extremely competitive!

You’d both just finished dinner when Juju got up to throw your takeout boxes away.

“Babe,” you chimed. “How much do you want to bet that I can throw this into the trash from right here?” You stood neat the tv and the trash can was a good six feet away.

“$20,” Juju said instantly. “That’s really nothing so this should be easy for you.”

You crumpled the box into somewhat of a ball, regretting it when the stick sauce got on your hands. You released it and it was head straight for the trash can when Juju stepped in front of it and swatted the box-ball to the floor.

You kissed your teeth and placed your hands on your hips. “Judea! That’s not fair!”

“Hey,” she shrugged. “Should’ve covered all of your bases first. I didn’t say I wasn’t gonna step in.”

Juju threw away the rest of the trash, a pout evident on your face. But, Juju hated when you did. Sometimes the referred to you as “The Brat” (in the most endearing way possible).

So, you decided to knuckle up (not literally guys).

You huffed, “go get changed. I wanna play HORSE.”

“Right now?” Juju glanced at the clock, it reading 7:30.

“Babe, this is not the latest time you’ve been in the gym. Hurry up, or I’ll tell everyone I took your ankles and you cried after!”

You love sharing new experiences with one another.

You and Juju are the couple that actually hates being bored. You love to occupy yourselves in some way that’ll stimulate the mind, and what better way to do that than trying new things?

You’ve done pottery, zip lining, sky diving, white water rafting, a poetry class, paint and sip, you guys do those little mining kits for fun together, and Juju’s favorite: ATV riding.

You’re each other’s rock when times get tough.

There have been a number of times when Juju has called on you to make her feel better or just hold her. There’s nothing like knowing that Juju (a.k.a. your person) will come through for you at the drop of a hat. Whenever Juju holds you, she strokes your hair and runs her hand down your back, noticing that it calms you.

You put on a united front and keep your disagreements private.

You both hate the idea of people having an idea of what arguments or disagreements look like between you two primarily because of Juju’s position in the public eye. People gave their opinions on her all the time, and she couldn’t control those, but she could control what she gave people to talk about in terms of your relationship. You’re private, but not a secret.

In fact, Juju loved to show you off. She could take candid photos of you all day, and she would post them on her story because “the world needs to see how beautiful you are, my love.”

You’re the early bird!

Even though Juju often has to get up for early morning practices, you often get up before her to get a start on the day. You’ll make breakfast and be ready to head out for the day by the time her eyes open.

The both of you share clothes.

Juju finds it so sexy when you wear something that belongs to her. Nobody else has to know it’s her clothes, it’s just the fact that you got it from her and 99% of the time she thought the item looked better on you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE!

juju is literally my wife lolziesssss! content about her is lacking REAL BAD but it’s ok we’ll fix that 🥰

nsfw part two? 👀

#meech la major #usc wbb #juju watkins #juju watkins x oc #juju watkins x reader #i love juju watkins #wlw headcanons

[tobiasdrake]

Finally, we're off to sea. If that's what you call this.

You know, this just occurred to me. If Patches has to keep his eyes shut to use his magic, how do we navigate? Like. Is it someone's job to rotate him? Take him by the shoulders and turn him left or right?

In any case, at least we're on our-- Hey, where the hell is Teaks? Did she miss the boat or fall overboard? Or was she the only one of us with enough good sense to go, "Hahaha nope, I'll wait for the next one."

I'd heard that no one ever returns but I'd just assumed the Dweller of Woe was eating them or something. Are they. Like. Community building instead? That'd be weird.

Kind of, then. It's like a psychic ranch. She keeps people as livestock and occasionally takes them out to slaughter.

Oh shit yes. Can we board it now? Trade in this dinghy for the spoils of our conquest? TELL ME we can do this side quest!

Aww, I wanted it to be ours now. But okay. Fine. We can do my thing first. Pout.

Hold up, how can the night be everlasting if we're expecting an eclipse? Night isn't what happens when the moon is present; It's what happens when the sun is absent. The moon has no authority over the night and day cycle, and is in fact frequently in the sky during day.

You cannot have an eclipse without a sun in the sky. The sky doesn't work that way.

Is the eclipse going to, like, magically pierce it somehow? Because, again, you can't have an eclipse during perpetual night.

Well, I guess if it's a lunar eclipse, you can. Those are pretty common.

You know, I kinda expected you guys to pull up close and make us swim the rest of the way while you hightailed it away from Psychic Cattle Farm Island. Surprised you were willing to stick your necks out like this.

Means a lot to me. I will try not to let you get eaten by the Dweller.

T_T I'm sorry I made fun of your stupid raft. This is really touching and now I want to be besties forever.

Guess we should set up camp and figure out--

TEAKS!

She did wait for the next boat. Or she swam. One or the other.

It's great to have you with us, Teaks. I'm sorry if you end up doomed forever because of it.

There are illusionary treasure chests hiding ghost ambushes. I hate this--

Oh. Pardon me. These are woodland spirits. Illusionary treasure chests hiding gaea's vengeance. The metaphysical consciousnesses that guide the natural order of our world want me dead for some reason. Can't imagine wh--

...okay, so perhaps I have not always been the most reverent of Solstice Warriors. We may have gotten off on the wrong foot. But. It doesn't have to be that way. I believe that, with maturity and grace, we can learn to understand each other and-- RANDOM BULLSHIT GO.

HAHAHA GOT 'EM. Test me, fuck-os.

You know, this is a nice little town the cattlefolk have made for themselves. We've got electric lighting. Nice homes. You almost don't even notice the gloom.

There's even transparent ghost people wandering near their graves! That's great. It means when the Dweller eats once of your loved ones, they come right back to you lickity-split.

You know, I was wondering. I figured there was some sort of low-level psychic barrier that just convinces everyone to stay, but no. It's threat of force. Everyone lives here in uncertainty wondering when the Dweller will summon them to be devoured, but if you try to leave then you're summoned immediately.

Denial? Your bar is denial? That's pretty clever, honestly. Points for that.

GARL NO

Do not give these people hope. They have no ability to influence what's about to happen in any way. If we win then they'll be free to go whether they knew it was coming or not, but if we lose then they'll be crushed by false promises. Hype is an insidious monster that strangles reality in its bed.

Let's just kill what we came to kill, and then we can start talking about it. It isn't news until it actually happens.

There's something about this place. Like. A commentary on the way we use escapism to distract from the hopelessness of living in a world that seems to be getting worse by the day. People meeting at The First Stage of Grief to share fictions of what they want their lives to be like, it resonates with our moment in time.

This place is really interesting.

Hold up, the squiddy on the end of Patches's staff is alive? I honestly thought that was a woodcarving.

Yeah, I have nothing to add to that. This place is a sobering reminder that action and glory are meant for something. In all seriousness, the end-goal shouldn't be the enrichment of the self, but of society.

An organization that claims ownership of violence for "the greater good" must always be cognizant that what they are doing is for the betterment of people's lives. Not of "society" as a whole even, but specifically, "Is the service I'm providing making people happier?"

#sea of stars #drake plays sea of stars

[einsteinsugly]

Fictober 13. That 70s Show. July 1994. Unca Hyde.

"Unca Hyde, come with me!" A little redhead weaves through the woods, like an unraveling ball of yarn. "Hurry!"

In the blink of an eye, they reach a clearing. A little clearing, at the edge of Bob's beachfront property, in Pleasant Prairie. Just big enough to start a project of epic proportions, apparently.

A stone's throw from Lake Michigan, the sun is beginning to set, but the fun and games are far from over. Betsy is "babysitting" to the best of a Kelso's ability, which is code for, someone's gotta check on her. Every once in awhile.

So Hyde has heard and taken a tiny glimpse at the kids' epic project, but he feigns surprise. "What is this?"

"The big kids made a fort." Four year old Leah happily takes the bait, before pointing to the tentative babysitter. "'Cept Betsy."

Becca's dark, curly head peeks out from the fort. It's like a standalone blanket fort, made with twigs. "Daddy, she says she's all smart, but she doesn't know how to put two sticks together."

Betsy groans. By design, Becca is always Betsy's purposeful buzzkill. "I swear, it's like a game of freaking Jenga!"

And Becca refuses to relent, and Hyde can't help but chuckle. Like father, like daughter. "It's a game she really sucks at."

Hyde shrugs, briefly sticking his head into the fort, easily putting two and two together. "Guess that's what happened to the ropes and pillows."

"Kate made it all cozy in there." The other redhead sticks her head out of the makeshift fort, with a happy little wave. Becca stays at the doorway, next to her best friend, readily relaying the details. "Hannah's thinkin' about adding some blankets."

James tries to push his way into the fort, and Kate and Becca guard the doorway. "We're gonna take 'em from Uncle Eric and Aunt Donna's boat."

Leah shakes her head, with a seemingly much better idea. "I think taking them from Unca Fez'll be easier."

Leah attempts a similar maneuver, and Hyde loudly clears his throat for the second time, in parental disapproval.

James shrugs. "Like taking candy from a baby?"

Now, Hyde has to be the parent. The cool parent, but a parent, nonetheless. "You're not supposed to steal stuff from Uncle Fez."

Kate attempts diplomacy, rather than brute force. "We can ask nicely. That's what I did for the ropes and pillows."

"I don't think you want a blanket from Uncle Fez," Betsy awkwardly declares, "He sleeps naked."

The kids erupt into a chorus of "ewws," and Hyde nods. "Gotta agree there."

But Betsy continues to add fuel to the fire, as she mindlessly swings two twigs in the dirt. "Didn't you say Uncle Eric used to be Mr. Nude?"

Another slew of "ewws" erupt, particularly from Leah and Kate, and Hyde promptly lays his theoretical cards out on the table.

"He learned his lesson, when he got caught by a neighbor in Africa..."

Now, there's an obnoxious chorus, to the tune of Toto's "Africa." "Duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh!"

The kids can be incredibly endearing, but sometimes, they can be incredibly annoying. "You can't keep doin' that every time anybody mentions Uncle Eric's times in Africa..."

"I bless the rains down in Africa, for changing my life." Somehow, the sound of Toto is a cue for Eric to dutifully appear. With a snarky smirk spreading like margarine. "Without taking the time to do things I never have before, who knows where I'd be..."

Betsy loudly scoffs. "You'd be like a scrawny comic book guy, Uncle Eric. How embarrassing."

"I mean, speaking of which. It would be nice if you gave back my Star Wars: Droids..."

"It fell in the lake. I was trying to read it on a raft." Eric innately squeaks, horrified, and everyone looks at him oddly. But Betsy continues anyway, unabated. "I told Dad that the lady of the lake took it, and he totally believed me..."

Kelso comes running, with a squeal of his own. "Was that the lady of the lake?"

Hyde chuckles. "You can say that."

#that 70s show #that 90s show #eric and donna #jackie and hyde #steven hyde #eric forman #michael kelso #betsy kelso #leah forman #kate forman #becca hyde #james hyde #my ficlets #my fics #fictober23 #fluffy fluff

[incarnateirony]

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss old fandom. And this isn't a "whining about the Winchesters" post.

It's just.. literally the fandom.

Watching these clout chasing goblins spread lies, play games, come back into my DM trying to talk out both sides of their mouth to fish for what I have, "big name fans should stick together", "don't you care what people think?"

Like guys. I don't just come from the gulf. Some of me, unfortunately, is stuck here, despite my best valiant efforts to get out.

But I remember many things.

I remember the postcards this fandom sent to the crew during writers strikes when we had no other way

I remember feathers sent to save Castiel and rehire misha.

I remember the many years fans repitched wayward until berens picked it up.

I remember SPN Rescue, and when the government wouldn't save New Orleans, we went out there as a family on our fucking life rafts saving lives for no glory of our own, but because it was the right fucking thing to do

the remaining trivial loud bitches around here dont even know what Nola is, Katrina is, what cultural shit set that up or that we even WENT there to fight, while they try to White Wander into Nola and establish their own nonsense.

These were the things that made the fandom ours. Really ours. Over time, well intended fundraisers available online became click and order activism and it's like everyone just. Forgot. What we used to do.

I remember when Lua and I put aside our differences, and SPN Rescue and BT worked together so wide we got travis banned from worldwide conventions, not just SPN.

Like this fandom used to be a power force but all of the old blood got burned out by assholes and the new kids filling their roles genuinely seem to gauge all things in clout trade rather than that.

Like. It seems to be frying one person in particular's brain. We don't get along. They found out, apparently, somehow, that I am in fact correct, and they've been bouncing off my dms on alts on various socials trying to wiggle in since because it's just. Utterly roasting them how this could mutually be true and how at the same time nobody cares about a bunch of privileged assholes roleplaying on twitter.

Yeah, big name fans SHOULD stick together, but you new kids came in acting like privileged assholes that think you can speculate and rumor your way through life. If me and Lua used to be able to work out our shit to do what was important, you guys can too, but your little digital thrones matter more to the current lot than the actual actions and results. All talk

nah man you new kids lost the plot. fuck sticking together. i'm here for the guys, not for myself and not for you. i'm here for PEOPLE and RESULTS. You're here for. Whatever the pile of constantly edited narrative on 2p0's wall is. Or the 72 alts trying to get back into my server now that they were told the truth by someone on high who has been screaming BUT HOW DID YOU KNOW since. yeah. uh, i already told you how. not sure why your gears are getting stuck here

Yall lazy ass victim mindset late invaders coming in trying to demand everyone be as lazy and noisy and pointless as you and just trying to bury an entire past of this fandom many like 2p0 are wholesale oblivious to. That history makes them irrelevant attention seekers rather than people of action, and man they will do anything in their power to drama llama it out but like

how shall i say

we're here now

at the end of the road

...was it worth it?

seriously tho that BNF line I got sent was such a red flag and you don't even realize it

realistically bnf is an illusion as it is

the most powerful people in this fandom, you never know until it's too late.

#Youtube

[inkydoc]

Tem plays TotK - a liveblog experience

Part 1 - first impressions

first things first, game good, Tem have fun, also Tem will say spoilery things in the future, so proceed with caution :D i'll tag this post and all reblogs as totk spoilers so you can block that if you so wish :3

and with that, let's embark on a magical adventure of recapturing the magic of botw and taking very shitty pictures of my switch screen because i can't be arsed to hook it up to the computer and navigate the mess that is the screenshot folder :D

case in point, dragon sighting:

okay, so if you've spent any time on the internet and have the slightest interest in loz then you've probably seen the explody dick thing, which was an expected outcome but also i love that you can do that!!! haven't strayed far from the rafts/planks with hooks/single log with a fan at the end kinda builds yet, but i can't wait! already had the "oh i've seen a plank way across the island that would be perfect here" moment, also i did drag a glowing minecart across a cave because i wasn't ready to say goodbye to it (and also didn't have a stick to use as a torch so yea i kinda used it as a light source too XD ) i've seen some criticism of the building gameplay being a weird addition, but i think it's really impressive and i just enjoy the potential for ✨️shenanigans✨️, my favourite part of botw (apart from bombing things, but that is also shenanigans)

also the game is really pretty!!! the nature is very nature (although getting used to always yellow trees is a doozy) and the design of the world is very appealing to me too :D i loved the Sheikah tech in the first one and i LOVE the Zonai stuff in this, ancient stone tech is my jam! also the steward constructs make stone klick-klack sounds as they move, it's sooo satisfying :3 and yes i got my first injury from the first soldier you encounter because i was like "look, adorable little robot, hiiii" and was rewarded with a stick to the face for my efforts XD although speaking of design, i can't get over the fact that the gadget Purah made for Zelda to take pictures is a fancy Switch with an eye at the back XD

my only problem is that i feel like the game expects me to know who the Zonai are and uh... i have no idea :"D yes yes imma hand in my Zelda fan badge and do some googling :D

#totk spoilers #i'm very excited if that wasn't obvious #inky's mind #loz #totk liveblog

[thegeminisage]

ok, i decided to bank on the main quest sending me up to the highlands eventually. i'm here on the road so like...let's fuckin do it

that being said, i don't have any sun food...lemme see if i have anything i can cook first lol

wow my meals are full <3 so i ate a speed up thingy and made one (1) space for a chillshroom thing. good thing i have plenty of portable pots.......

oh wow. i really did start swaying with heat exhaustion the second i stepped into the canyon. damn.

man i love this already. the shade and caves makes it better but i bet at night we swing the other way. it's ncie because i don't have sand killing my movement speed yet lol

yoooo there's a guy trapped in here! i'll rescue you bud

oh this is one of the people who went missing i think!

yo my man addison is out here even...also swaying in the heat lol. i hope he gives me useful food 😭

ooh he did

omg no way there are real tumbleweeds rolling around lol

i found FAIRIES!!! in this well. but theyre all flying so high it's hard to catch them...i got 2 at least :/

aaand i pop out into the cold. at least i have armor for this, tho i'm sad to take off my oot gear

DAMN i forgot to get extra fans and there's a korok here who needs transport!!!! sometimes the game provides you with that sort of thing but Not Here. This Is The Desert

spend zonaite, or leave the korok behind...?

option 3! just carry him! there was a place with like stairsteps that it was possible to climb. thank fuck.

YOOOO ITS FAROSH...I DONT HAVE ANY FAROSH PARTS YET.......girl come down here 😭

i'm not gonna spend zonaite. not even for this. it's for the battery.

besides, the reason i don't have any farosh parts yet is bc i don't have the entire rubber armor set...she would chew me up and spit me out

well, i found a falling block to use recall on and got close enough to get a scale :/ i really need a claw but i'll take it

oh wow. the road really did become a river. wtf...

aaand it's hot again!! damn.

this fucking shrine quest with the laser and the crystal...i just wanted a fast travel point!!

oh i found another guy! worth it then

"i could kiss ya right now" 🏳‍🌈

aaah and the music comes in...nothing like the OG gerudo valley but still nice to hear

there's a fan and a control stick here...not enough for a bike BUT enough to build a little raft <3

passing up a couple of caves :/ because i wanna get to the mouth of the river before i abandon my boat. i'll go back for them soon but it's Bothering me

found it!

oh shit i went up the waterfall to look better and when i came down i saw a yiga statue.........it's almost time for them ig

peeked on the map (sorry) and there's a hideout here but i can't find it. i wonder if the story will send me back here...

ok BACK 2 thecave i missed

SICK?? theres a sand waterfall in here

aw i found the last guy! very good. i'm not going back rn tho. it took too long to get here!! i think my lookout tower is close and then i can go anywhere i want

god i really do love that you can just vaporize ice enemies with fire fruit. i have like 200 of them i love when things are easy

awww a cherry tree out here...very good <3 i did finally look those up and while they are handy, they become kind of useless if you're cheating with an interactive map lol

unlocked the map...........only one tower left to go

I Can See The Last Geoglyph From Here. i gotta calm down lol

I SEE FAROSH!!!!!! girl i gotta have that claw. girl. girl. girl

GOT IT AND CAUGHT IT IN MIDAIR! FUCK yes.

i landed a little ways from where i started...trying to decide on going back to get the caves and seeds i missed or pushing forward. wow something for future liz to figure out tonight

#personal #loz blogging #totk lb #totk spoilers

[frogsbejumpingincalaveras]

Hey There Reader,

Continuing a discussion on Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, I'd like to write a little bit about the morality of novel. It's certainly a murkier topic, but there are moments that I think shine through and provide not only the satire Twain had been known for at this point in his career, but also powerful messaging he claimed to not have in the beginning of this very story. I'm of course referring to the growth of Huck Finn through his relationship with Jim, the escaping slave he spends his adventure with.

Early in the novel, as the pair make their way, as they incorrectly assume, north along the Mississippi river, Huck tries to stick to his childish ways. Huck views Jim as lesser-than, because of Jim's slavery, and honestly the predominant sentiment towards black people in the time of the novel which itself transposes a sense of morality on the children that grow up with in it, Huck plays some practical jokes on Jim. The two that come to mind are as follows:

"I went to the cavern to get some [tobacco], and found a rattlesnake in there. I killed him, and curled him up on the foot of Jim's blanket, ever so natural, thinking there'd be some fun when Jim found him there. Well, by night I forgot all about the snake, and when Jim flung himself down on the blanket while I struck a light, the snake's mate was there, and bit him." (63)

and

"When I got to [the raft] Jim was setting there with his head down between his knees, asleep, with his right arm hanging over the steering oar. The other oar was smashed off, and the raft was littered up with leaves and branches and dirt. So she'd had a rough time. I made fast and laid down under Jim's nose on the raft, and begun to gap, and stretch my fists out against Jim and says: "Hello, Jim, have I been asleep? Why didn't you stir me up?" "Goodness gracious, is dat you Huck? … No, you ain' dead! you's back agin, 'live en soun', jis de same ole Huck--de same ole Huck, thans to goodness!" "What's the matter with you, Jim? You been a drinking?" (96)

Both instances feature the kind of practical joking Huck had grown accustomed to in his adventures with Tom Sawyer in his own book, and the one previous. Thinking they would go over just as well when Jim was the target, or just the fact that Jim was the target, when he had been nothing but supportive and caring for Huck thus far, Huck displays a misunderstanding of not only the outcome of these pranks, but the mutual respect that Jim had assumed of their relationship. Huck's morality here, while childish, still demonstrates his lack of regard for Jim's feelings, which grows from not only being a child that likes to prank, but also the racial differences Huck perceives.

It's the aftermath of these pranks where the cracks in Huck's façade of imitating the social cues of the 1800's begin to peek through however. After the snake bite,

"Jim was laid up for four days and nights. Then the swelling was all gone and he was around again. I made up my mind I wouldn't ever take aholt of a snake-skin again with my hands, now that I see what had come of it. Jim said he reckoned I would believe him next time. … Well I was getting to feel that way myself." (63)

Huck not only takes into account Jim's physical state, which I must state would not have been a common thought, but also the emotional toll it took on their respect. Beyond the quoted, the pair then share a bond at staring at the moon over their left shoulder, despite how foolish Huck feels doing it.

In one last try to pull one over on Jim, Huck's attempt at convincing Jim he had been there on the raft the whole time they were separated by a dense fog, ends with a conversation between Jim and Huck, where Jim dresses him down, calling him "trash" for his actions. It's clear Jim thought Huck had died, and Huck's nonchalance is too much to bear. Jim leaves Huck on that note to spend time alone, and Huck tells us:

"But that was enough. It made me feel so mean I could almost kissed his foot to get him back. It was fifteen minutes before I could work myself up to go and humble myself to [Jim]--but I done it, and I warn't ever sorry for it afterwards, neither. I didn't do him no more mean tricks, and I wouldn't done that one if I'd a knowed it would make him feel that way." (98)

In other words, even though Huck is still seeing Jim as not much than a slave, there is something within him that is changing and telling him that these actions are morally in the wrong. Not just because they are ill-natured pranks, but because his attitude towards Jim, a friend by this point, and a confidant not too much later, is not the same the relationship he has been shown and taught that a white person should have with a black person.

All of this context is to set up the moral climax of Twain's novel, because I felt these pranks were a clear and concise example of the behavior Twain was seeking to single out. Much later, Jim is sold by a pair of con-artists he and Jim had traveled with, and Huck in a panic tries to figure out a solution. The contemporary thing to do might have been to leave Jim to that stroke of bad luck and continue on his journey alone. The contemporary morally strong thing to do would be to write a letter to Miss Watson, and send Jim back to the slave owner who he originally escaped from, with Huck stating,

"I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write to [Jim's] owner and tell where he was." (227)

But even that in Huck's mind is a sin, because he knows it's a lie. The lie being that Jim, a man who has shown compassion to Huck throughout this adventure and dreams of a life with his wife and children, shouldn't be owned. The morality of Huck's time was not as thoughtful, but the growth within Huck has told him that is not a moral he wants to follow. And even though he knows he has to pray to God to find the answer, the answer he comes to is not one that he feels comfortable following through with. And so, he spots that letter he has written to Miss Watson, and in his own words,

"I took it up, and held it in mt hand. I was a trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied it a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself: "All right, then, I'll go to hell"--and tore it up. ... I would take up wickedness again, which was my line, being brung up to it, and the other warn't. And for a starter, I would go to work and steal Jim out of slavery again." (228)

A deed which he would, thankfully, accomplish. But in that, what Huck considered, moral failing, Twain institutes a line of questioning on if those morals that Huck, and by connection the people of Twain's time, had, should be held as highly as they did. Twain questioned the legitimacy of racial superiority as a moral standard through the genuine connection of two escaping characters trying to find a new home.

-SM

#Mark Twain #The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn #Huck Finn #Jim #Morality

[creator-of-calm-queer-chaos]

With great pride and lots of pain do I bring to you... Febuwhump day 1: alt 6, Limp, with Coulson and team

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44655928/chapters/112344958 for master post, https://archiveofourown.org/works/44706922 for individual posts

Characters: Coulson, Ward, Fitzsimmons, Skye 

Prompt: Limp 

CW: Snake/snake bites, minor surgery and IV 

Everyone was panting, still in shock. The plane was still flying, the raft was blocking the hole in the side of the shift, and no one on their team was dead. A little beat up, sure, but not dead. Skye did a survey of the room: Ward was panting, leaning against the raft. He looked exhausted and a mess, but he was okay. Coulson was standing over a soldier he had just knocked out, his expression sad. But he was okay. The plane righted itself and stayed at a level altitude, meaning May was okay. Fitz and Simmons hefted themselves up over the hallway barrier, ruffled but also okay. Skye got up and walked over to Ward, offering him a hand up as the lights flickered. They looked about, but they steadied again. “I read the safety pamphlet,” Skye said dryly. “I think you might be the first,” Ward responded, wincing slightly. They gathered around the bar, all out of breath. “No other way in or out, huh,” Coulson remarked, picking up a glass and setting it on the counter. “I was just starting to warm up to this place.” Skye chuckled and grabbed a coaster, putting it down and deftly placing the glass on top of it. “The 084 is cooling and stable,” Fitz said, still hugging the post. “But we should call HQ and get it to the Slingshot as soon as possible.” Coulson nodded and stepped away, limping. “We should get everyone patched up,” Simmons said, nodding at Coulson. “I’ll go get things.” Coulson made his way to the Comandante. “Told you they were good,” he smiled. “You forgot something,” she whispered back. She looked at his foot, which he barely was resting on the ground. Skye leaned over, watching them. “Uh, guys? What’s up with Coulson’s foot?” “Nothing,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m fine. Go patch each other up, I’ll be there in a minute.” “You don’t want them to know,” Reyes smiled. “Fine. I’ll wait.” “Sir, she’s secure, let’s get you checked out,” Skye said, walking deftly over and taking him by the arm. She turned him away, hitting a button to close Reyes in the room. They started walking to the lab, but it became increasingly apparent that something was wrong. Coulson leaned heavily on Skye, barely putting weight on his left foot. His breathing became laboured. “Sir? Talk to me, what’s going on?” “My leg…” he mumbled. “Yeah, figured that much,” she muttered. “WARD! Help me get him down the stairs, please.” Ward stuck his head out from the lab, Simmons following him with a compression pack. He saw Skye basically holding Coulson up and ran up the stairs. “Don’t aggravate your wound!” Simmons scolded, but he immediately disregarded her and picked up Coulson like a baby. “Fitzsimmons, something’s really wrong, he’s not breathing right,” Ward said, carrying him back down the stairs and placing him on the table like a child. “Sir, what’s going on?” “He said something about his leg, he could barely walk on it,” Skye put in, close behind. Coulson looked around at them, squinting. He blinked hard. “I think I died in a past life,” he mumbled slowly. He proceeded to collapse onto the table. “Crap,” Simmons whispered, jumping to check his heart. “Fitz, get the oxygen tank and a nose cannula while I figure this- oh my god.” She had pulled up the pant leg to reveal two small holes on his leg, seeping yellow. The area around it was tender and swollen, but more than that, his foot was greying. “Snake bite,” Ward said gravely. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Skye said, moving around the table. “Simmons, tell us what we can do to help.” She had already grabbed a pair of scissors and was cutting away the leg of his pant. “Ward, get an oximeter on his finger, Skye, there’s a box in the shelf labelled ‘exercise equipment,’ grab an exercise band and a stick of a sort, we need to lessen the blood flow to his leg.” They did as she said, sweating. Fitz came back with a can of oxygen and placed the cannula under his nose. Simmons elevated his leg, and cleaned the immediate area, gently dabbing inside the snake bite with a q-tip. She handed it to Fitz, telling him to identify the poison. She told Skye to go tell May. As Fitz tried to identify the venom, Simmons walked Ward through putting in an IV while she dug around the medical draws. “Who flies the most well stocked plane to Peru without extensive supplies of snake antivenom?!” she cried, sifting through bags upon bags with different labels. “Ward, how’s the IV coming?” “It’s in, I put the fluids on it,” he remarked, stoic. “Good how’s his pulse?” “Uh… it says 30?” he said, reading off the display. “Shit,” she whispered again, abandoning the search for antivenom. “Fitz, any detections?” “No, it must not be updated with South American venoms,” he said, wringing his hands. “What sort of system doesn’t have the most poisonous snake venoms in it!” “Look for similar venoms, then,” she ordered. “Oh, I don’t want to have to cut off his foot.” May and Skye ran back down the stairs, May’s face showing some semblance of fear. “What happened?” May demanded. “Snake bite, see if we can get to a hospital nearby, and let HQ know,” Simmons ordered. “It says its similar to a ‘golden lancehead’ venom,” Fitz called to her. “Oh, of course, why didn’t I think of that earlier!” she muttered to herself. “Skye, go back through those antivenoms, there should be several labelled ‘bothrops insularis.’” Simmons walked over to Coulson’s other side, preparing to set in another tap. “May, go!” May looked at Coulson, almost fearfully, then angrily. “Save him.” She turned and ran back up the stairs. “What was that about?” Skye whispered as she dug through the bags, but nobody gave her question any thought. There were more important things at hand. “Here, found it! I think, whose handwriting is that?” “I didn’t think anyone else would have to read it,” Fitz groaned, taking it and hooking it up to another IV port. “Simmons, you ready?” “The ports in,” she responded, turning the pincher and letting the antivenom flow. She exhaled heavily. “There. That will prevent him from dying, but I don’t know about his leg…” They all breathed out a huge sigh. Simmons looked at his leg again, and took a small syringe and injected some local antibiotics. She probed it, grabbing her magnifying specs, and looked inside. “Dammit,” she whispered. “What? What is it?” Skye asked, looking up from the floor where she sat. “Simmons?” “There are fangs inside his leg. I need to get them out.” “What can we do?” Ward asked immediately. “I’ve never done venomous fangs, I’ve done plenty of bullets though.” “They’re very different, if you shatter the fangs he’ll lose his leg for sure,” she explained, pulling a tarp over the rest of his leg. “No, I’ll do this myself, but Ward, go update May, and Skye, in case this is too different from the insularis, I need you to try to code the computer to include the lesser known snakes of Peru. Fitz, help me get everything.” Ward sighed and ran back up the stairs while Skye sat down at the computer. She immediately started tapping away, staring at the screen intently. Fitz brought Simmons a kit labelled ‘removal surgery kit.’ She opened it, then washed her hands again. “Didn’t you just wash your hands?” Skye asked her. “You can never wash your hands enough,” Simmons responded. “Fair enough.” Simmons dried off her hands and checked Coulson’s vitals. He was steady. She covered more of his leg, and injected a local anaesthesia. “Fitz, keep an eye on his vitals. In the off chance he wakes up, you need to explain what’s happening or else he’ll move to violently,” she instructed, belting down his thigh. “He’s all set.” Simmons washed her hands again, pulled on a pair of gloves, put on a doctor’s mask, and picked up a scalpel. She took a deep breath, and began to operate.

An hour later, Coulson had eight more stitches in his leg, four for each hole. Simmons had placed the fangs in a small container, and it was sitting on the desk. They had moved Coulson to his bed, still on an IV and cannula. May was watching him, and had promised to let them know the moment there was any update. Skye had finished adding all known snakes to the programme, and had requested a data transfer from HQ with the extensive list of venom types. Ward was sitting in the living area, reading a novel, but he had been on the same page for almost half an hour. Simmons was reorganising the surgery equipment, and had filed a request for all known antibiotics for once they landed at HQ. Fitz was watching her, leaning back in the chair. “Simmons, that’s enough,” Fitz finalky said, standing up and walking over to her. “It’s plenty organised by now. You don’t need to keep working at it.” “No, Fitz, it’s not enough,” she cried, standing up and facing him, arms spread wide. “What if we hadn’t been able to find the right antivenom? What if we hadn’t been able to get the fangs out? The. Cookson could be dead and it would have been this bloody systems fault!” Fitz paused, looking at her. He sighed heavily, then closed the gap between them, hugging her. “But he didn’t. He’s fine. You saved him - because you’re amazing,” he whispered. “Oh, Fitz,” she sighed, leaning into his hug. A tear escaped. “I’m just so worried.” “Hey, don’t be,” he said, looking at her. “Look, we’ll be landing soon, let’s go get you some tea. I’ll make it just how you like it.” Fitz took her hand and lead her up the stairs, passing the room where Coulson slept and May kept guard, passing where Grant was doodling on a paper, passing where Skye had made her nest and she coded. And Simmons smiles. Because they were safe.

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2023 #febuwhump day 1 #alt 6: limp #aos #agents of shield #phil coulson #fitzsimmons #skye johnson #grant ward #melinda may

[portablecity]

Warp Riders!

Chapter 19

Wind whistled across the cave mouth, sending a deeper hum around the cavern. The Captain tried bending her injured knee again, gently, and it felt fine, totally fine and then– “Fuck!”

“Captain! What are you doing down there?”

She breathed slowly through her nose until the pain spike passed. 

“I’ve fucked up my knee. It’s fine.” Well. “I mean it’s not fine, but it’s… I’m fine. They’re sending a splint, right?”

“Splint, boat, rope, more rope – anything else?”

“Wouldn’t mind a stiff drink and a beach umbrella, actually.”

A snort was just audible, echoing down into the cavern. And then silence once more. The Captain focused on massaging her knee, which had swollen up enough her pant leg was tight around it.

They had enough medical supplies on the ship itself that she wasn’t worried long term about it; short of a full break, they could handle most things in the field. She’d be off it for a few days, but that was fine. She could supervise; no more research trips, stick to repairs.

It did hurt like a bitch, though. Maybe shock had worn off? She was shivering a bit still; maybe it hadn’t quite passed. How long a trip was it back to camp if you were jogging? How fast could the Stowaway run for supplies – and how heavy was the inflatable raft?

The logistics of her own rescue were fascinating, and the Captain was deep in thought about how best to optimize the immediate circumstances when the Navigatrix mumbled something down the tunnel.

“You what?”

“I said it’s – it’s very peaceful on this moon.”

“Besides my peril?”

No response to that, of course.

“No, no, it’s a very peaceful sort of spelunking disaster, my mistake.”

Quiet. Then.

“Captain,” almost too quiet to hear, down the tunnel and into the cavern, “do you miss Lucy?”

Oh, no. No no no. Not now. “Don’t do this, Navigatrix.”

“It’s just, I thought I missed her before, but now we’re here – I just, I really feel it, her absence.”

The Captain flopped back onto her back in frustration. Why NOW. “We all miss her, for sure, but, it’s been a long time–”

“Well, now, no. It actually has been almost no time at all–”

“–that’s not what I mean, you pedantic–”

“I think we’ve had maybe a month of linear time–”

“She’s gone! She’s gone, and we all had that meeting about it, and why are you bringing her up now?”

Wind whistled.

“I just keep thinking that she would have gotten a kick out of all this.”

“She made it clear she didn’t enjoy any of this when she LEFT US.”

“Captain, are you still this mad at her?”

The Captain was overwhelmed by frustration with the Navigatrix; so much, her eyes pricked and she had to blink and blink and whisper “fuck” under her breath a few times.

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.”

“Are you sad?”

“Disappointed!”

It was amazing, how audible the Navigatrix’s skeptical silence was down in the cave. The Captain rubbed her face, extremely furious.

“Captain – I’m not going to tell you what to do, but you’re allowed, if you like, to miss your little sister.”

“She doesn’t deserve to be missed.”

Well, that came out of her own mouth, didn’t it. Might as well dig this pit even deeper. “She’s the one who abandoned us! We were a crew. We had a job to do!”

“We all know we’re only doing them for fun now, Captain.”

“They’re still jobs!”

“Well, don’t you ever think about retiring?”

“What?!” Why was she bringing this up? “No! Why! Are you planning to leave me too?” The Captain cringed to herself as her voice cracked. “Because just – just tell me and fuck off so I can find another navigator.”

That got a snort.

“I might be the least likely of this crew to do such a thing, Captain.”

It sounded like a joke, but the Captain heard some of that gentleness in her voice that so often pissed her off. She must be out of adrenaline, because she had to admit she almost felt comforted.

No need to say it aloud, though.

#Warp Riders! #serial fiction #read along #story #scifi fantasy #the captain #the navigatrix #big feelings #adventure #orb and planet

[wibblo-wobblo-timey-wimey]

lol that feeling when you’re the only one that ships that random rarepair and you get to create the shipname

#bucky barnes x may parker #may parker x bucky barnes #rarepair #please god help me #I have not a creative bone in this fleshheap of a body #but for real if like anyone else ships this pleas lmk #there’s no fics except for the one I wrote #I am truly alone #drifting on my raft and making sand angels when ever I come across an island #just me and my little raft made of sticks #sticks and meetcutes #is bay good cuz mucky sounds yucky #bay barnker #my brains to stuck in the he moved in next door and they cook together phase to work #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #may parker #spiderman

[buckybarnesdiaries]

otchet o missii

© @wintersthighs

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

part one ⸺ part two ⸺ bonus

request made by anon: Hi Maria you beautiful person you please be my friend 🥺 I kinda have a request but if it doesn't speak to you then you don't have to write it, could you write something where reader is an enhanced/ mutant (kinda like Wanda or Jean Grey so like crazy powerful and dangerous) and Bucky just will not let the government get near her because he knows they'll probably experiment on her to make her a weapon cause they're sus like that? It can be romantic or platonic no preference, if ya want, please and thanks sorry this was so long

word count: 1.165 words.

warnings/tags: none. dad!bucky being overprotective with his baby soldier.

author notes: re-posted because tumblr deleted it for no reason. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Soldat, stoy”.

(Soldier, stop).

Your eyes widened. Your heart raced. The time froze. That command clicked something in your brain, producing the spheres of flames concentrated on your palms to dwindle till disappearing. You had just one second to look around you, before turning at the firm tone of voice behind your back. You found yourself in the middle of Times Square, surrounded by different security forces, aiming at you with large-caliber weapons. Above your head, two helicopters were setting up a perimeter. The chaos spread around the long avenue. You didn't have an idea of how you ended up there, but you were scared like never before.

Turning slowly, your eyes landed on a pair of pale blue orbs. You didn’t notice the other people as a backup. A feeling of safety invaded you when he tilted his head confused, narrowing his eyes, trying to understand how it was possible that you were there. But before you could take a step closer to him, a twinge followed by an electric cramp shook your body. The last thing you heard before blacking out was an I got you, and a cold arm wrapping your abdomen.

BUCKY'S POV

Avengers Compound

06:03 pm, New York

“How do you know it’s not a trap set by Hydra?” Steve asked, reclining himself on his seat at the meeting table next to the rest of the Avengers.

“Because I trust her”. Bucky didn’t doubt replying, although he couldn’t understand why, hearing Stark clicking his tongue as he rolled his eyes.

“James, you don’t know her”. Natasha sighed, referring to the fact that being assassins together years ago meant nothing.

“I trained her. She owes me loyalty”.

“What’s that? Some kind of Stockholm Syndrome patented by Hydra?” Clint scoffed incredulously.

“Tell us what you know about her, Bucky. What you remember”. The captain asked his long-life friend, leaning on the table with both forearms rested against the edge of it.

The soldier gulped, deeply breathing, nodding his chin with his eyes lost somewhere on the dark oak. He explained how Vasily Karpov knew about you. An orphan with no family, no history, and a power of telepathy that allowed you to control the four elements as you pleased. Water, fire, earth, and air. From nowhere, your body could produce flames and throw them anywhere. Exactly the same you could do with water and air. Earth was different. Only by using your hands you could wild it as you want; creating earthquakes or holes, move it. The heroes around Bucky were stupefied. You were a potential danger.

Then, he told them about your skills. Karpov made him stay awake after killing Tony’s parents to train her. You were just a kid. And soon, you were a soldier with an angelic face who could kill anyone just by blinking your eyes. To tell the truth, the Winter Soldier was everything you had in this life. You two worked together, hand-to-hand, for more than ten years until he disappeared. With him out of the game, Hydra continued experimenting with you to replace him. But they reached a point where you couldn't bear the pain, losing control completely.

“Let me talk with her, please”. Bucky begged, touring his eyes around the people there.

“It’s too dangerous”. Vision affirmed, taking a position close to Tony.

“She. Owes. Me. Loyalty”. He repeated almost hissing, pointing out every word with his silver forefinger poking the table.

“You have five minutes before the Government brings her to the Raft”. Rhodes sentenced, crossing his arms on his chest. “Five minutes”.

Escorted by Steve and Wanda, who was the only one there that could control you, Bucky went down to the third sublevel. When the soporific made its effect and knocked you out in the middle of Manhattan, the Avengers managed to take you to their compound.

You were still stoned, but conscious enough to know what was happening around you. Everything spun inside the bunker. Your head hurt like hell and you felt a knot within the pit of your stomach that made you want to puke your guts. As the heavy door proffered a loud noise being opened you retreated to the farthest corner, placing your knees to your chest and wrapping your legs with both arms. Again, you were shaking. Terrified. About to beg for your life.

“Soldat, otchet o missii”.

(Soldier, mission report).

Your breathing became erratic as if the air wasn't enough to fill your lungs. You were at the edge of your crying, raising your hidden face from the gap of your knees. The Winter Soldier was standing some feet away from you. No expression on his face, as always, but with the small difference of a slight inkling of concern. He also looked skinnier, shorter hair, a grown beard. He looked healthier, free.

“Net zadaniya”. You whispered with a broken tone.

(No assignment).

“Soldat, otchet o missii”. He repeated taking a step ahead, hardening his voice.

(Soldier, mission report).

The command made you gulp a sob. Wasn’t he believing you? How could you lie to him?

“Net zadaniya”. You replied with no hesitation, standing on your bare feet and sticking your back to the wall. “Missiya ne naznachena”.

(No assignment. No mission assigned).

You noticed he wanted to turn to his partners, but he didn't. The soldier kept eye contact, coming a little more closer, invading your personal space without caring. He tilted his head forward, trying to find the answers to his questions in your orbs. But they both were emptied with the sole exception of the horror invading your chest and reflected on them. You didn't want to come back. You wanted to be released from Hydra's chain. You weren't an assassin, nor a monster.

“I wa… I was looking for… you”. Babbling, you confessed, being the explanation for why your mind took you to that place in concrete.

“Why?”

“Because you are the only person I have”.

His eyelids narrowed for a second, scanning your intentions, feeling frustrated by not finding anything hidden beneath your words. “Otchet o missii, soldat”.

(Mission report, soldier).

“Net zadaniya, Sergeant Barnes”.

(No assignment).

It was the first time you pronounced part of his real name since you met him many years ago and you could listen to his heartbeat increasing. Before you blinked, his metallic hand grabbed your throat and pinned you against the wall, watching the fury and the rage taking control over his grimace. Glancing above his shoulder, a redhead woman stopped the blonde man known as Captain America. Your gaze focused again on the soldier, loosening slowly the grip on your skin.

“Why don't you remember me?”

The last thing you knew about him was that the man behind him brought back the memories of his past life. His real life. But he was still looking at you with hate and revulsion. Of course, the Winter Soldier was conscious of who you were. What he had forgotten was how he felt about you. He didn't reply to your question, walking backward to the exit, leaving you there. Alone. Again.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

author notes: what do you think about, after the two parts explaining the story, continuing it to explore the evolution of their relationship? do you like the idea? lemme know in a comment or send me an ask!

TAG LIST: @mystic-232 @homesicam @theresnoplatypus @i-love-scott-mccall @slutfornat @xx-marvelfanatic-xx @goldielocks2004 @whatrambles @the-mystery-spot @multiyfandomgirl40 @purrrrfect @spidergirla5 @wanniiieeee @fanofalltheficsx @spideysimpossiblegirl @nocturnalherb16 @jointhehunt67 @the-witty-pen-name @valenquei @golden-hoax @hunter-of-baker-street @missusstark @vhscherry @warm-sensations @edenxecho @addictedtofictionalcharacters @sarahsmcu @tinylumpiaa @amelia-song-pond @heartislubbingdubbing @stolenxkissess @clean-and-claire @winchestersgirl222 @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @diaryofkali @starrynite7114 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @skits90s @greeneyedblondie44 @phoenixhalliwell

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes #the winter soldier x reader #the avengers x reader

[arrantsnowdrop]

To be a Jedi - Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Request: “anakin/female!reader getting together fic that involves reader crying because she’s feeling self-conscious about her appearance and feeling worthless and anakin comforting her and calming her down and then accidentally confessing to her?”

Tags: @lothloriien​

Warnings: self-deprecation, insecurities, etc. (~2,500 words)

~~~~~

Being a Jedi really sucked sometimes.

Not all the time. In fact, you normally enjoyed the fast-paced, demanding lifestyle you led. Even as a youngling you had taken pride in the ritual and responsibility of being a Jedi, and now, as a Padawan on the verge of facing the Jedi trials, you were more confident than ever that the Force had led you down the right path.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t have bad days every once in a while.

Your Master had been called away on some highly classified mission in the Naboo system, so you’d been spending the week at the Jedi Temple working on some independent research and participating in training sessions with the other senior Padawans. Unfortunately, they were focusing on lightsaber combat this week - something you were definitely not as skilled at considering your specialization in negotiation and communications.

It wasn’t that you were unathletic - you were training to be a Jedi for crying out loud - but it was hard not to feel a little self-conscious about how much you were struggling with the training exercises, especially when your assigned training partner was none other than Anakin Skywalker.

It was just past midday - you’d been training for hours already and still had a few to go. The sun was blaring down on the courtyard where you and the other Padawans were sparring under Obi-Wan’s supervision.

You panted heavily, eyeing Anakin as the two of you circled each other slowly. There was no question as to which one of you would launch the next parry - Anakin had taken the offensive right out of the gate - so all you could do was try to catch your breath and prepare yourself for his next attack.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, a few beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and some of his hair sticking to his face. His eyes were following your every move, tracking you like you were some kind of prey.

You hated this.

Suddenly, Anakin lunged forward, blue lightsaber whirring loudly as he swung it towards you. You groaned, lifting your own lightsaber up at the last possible moment to deflect him.

“Such a slow reaction time,” Anakin teased, grinning as he stepped back to give himself a wider range of motion.

“I thought it would take you longer to catch your breath,” you replied, voice strained as you blocked another one of his strikes.

You’d been friends with Anakin since Obi-Wan took him as a Padawan years ago, offering to help him as he played “catch up” with the rest of you. The fact he’d become such a strong Force-user despite starting so late was something you deeply respected him for, though you were perfectly content simply watching him display these skills.

Being on the receiving end of a lightsaber attack from Anakin Skywalker was not something you would consider enjoyable. You’d spent the whole morning dodging and jumping and somehow still losing every match. 

You flinched as Anakin’s lightsaber hit your torso, the sting of the “training mode” setting hurting far less than the sting of your own pride.

“Seven to one,” Obi-Wan called from where he was watching. You groaned, rubbing your temples with your free hand and turning your lightsaber off.

“Hey, you were definitely doing better than time,” Anakin said reassuringly, sensing your frustration. “Improvement is all Obi-Wan is looking for.”

“Improvement doesn’t take away from the fact I’ve lost seven matches today,” you seethed, bending down to re-tie the laces of your boots.

“Perhaps if you worked out a bit more you wouldn’t lose so often,” one of the other Padawans jested. Your head snapped up, face flushing as you sent them a pointed glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked curtly, watching them look between you and Anakin uncomfortably.

“It’s just-”

They didn’t get a chance to finish, letting out a small shriek as they dodged a rock flying through the air. You turned around to look at Anakin, his slightly raised hand indicating who’d been responsible for the rock. At least he was using his Force capabilities in your favor now.

“Thanks,” you muttered, reigniting your lightsaber, glancing at the clock above where Obi-Wan was sitting. All you wanted was for training to be over so you could retreat to your room.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” Anakin said, a somewhat angry look on his face as he took a fighting stance across from you. “You’re perfectly capable of wielding a lightsaber, and you’d definitely beat them if you’d been paired up.”

“Hopefully,” you corrected him, “hopefully I’d beat them.”

“Definitely,” Anakin insisted, you rolling your eyes as you lifted your lightsaber in front of you.

----

What sucked about getting older was how little you saw Obi-Wan and Anakin. Your Master was responsible for conducting multiple research projects for the Jedi Council off-world, and Obi-Wan and Anakin hardly ever stayed on Coruscant for longer than a few days, so it was unlikely that you’d find yourselves in the same place for a decent amount of time anymore.

Normally, you would’ve used this week as a great opportunity to catch up with one of your oldest friends. This damn lightsaber training was getting in the way.

It had been yet another long day of sweating the equivalent of your own bodyweight and paling in comparison to Anakin’s abilities. Obi-Wan had focused on lightsaber combat in precarious and compromising situations, with one of which resulting in you falling off a two story rock wall.

As you stood in front of the mirror in your room you couldn’t overlook the spattering of bruises covering your torso and arms, all varying hues of blue and purple culminating from the last few days. You sighed, grateful you were getting the extra training you so clearly needed and nervous about what that meant. Imagine you’d been confronted by some Sith fanatic in the last few weeks - who knows how long you would’ve lasted?

Perhaps you were overthinking. You did have an extremely over-skilled training partner who made most other Jedi look incompetent with a lightsaber.

That being said, you still couldn’t shake what that other Padawan had said about you yesterday. Had you really become unathletic? You didn’t think you’d ever really neglected your daily training exercises, but perhaps those weren’t enough.

You sat down on the edge of your bed slowly, shoulder slumped. Maybe you weren’t as capable as you thought. The bruises all over you and lack of any actual visible muscle certainly pointed towards that.

----

The next morning, you skipped breakfast, giving Obi-Wan some offhanded explanation as to why you’d be missing training and heading for the library. You weren’t really skipping for no reason, your Master had given you a list of different research topics for you to look up in the Jedi Archives. Did you really need the extra time to get this done? No, but it still gave you a good excuse to avoid the feeling of physical incapability that accompanied your training sessions.

Plus, you didn’t want to slow the entire group down. Tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered yesterday when Obi-Wan made you repeat some dumb exercise on a floating raft over and over again, even though everyone else had already done it to his satisfaction. It was humiliating.

At least here in the library, surrounded by stacks of holograms and books, you were in your element. Here you didn’t have to move fast or chop anyone’s limb off out of self-defense.

It was sometime in the late afternoon when Anakin stormed into the library, loud footsteps immediately shushed by a swarm of librarians. You couldn’t help but grin softly, eyes meeting his as he marched over to you much more quietly.

“Even the great Anakin Skywalker is no match for an angry librarian,” you teased, him scoffing as he plopped down in a chair next to you.

“And where were you today?” Anakin asked, a strange intensity behind his question. You gulped, gesturing to the pile of transcripts and notes in front of you.

“I was right here,” you replied meekly.

“Since this morning?” he asked, eyes widening in surprise. You nodded.

“What the heck, Y/N,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Obi-Wan assigned me a different partner. Do you know how irritating every other Padawan is to train with?”

“No, I’ve only ever trained with you,” you said bluntly.

“Exactly!” Anakin responded a little too loudly, earning him a dramatic shush from the circulation desk.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, slapping his chest lightly. He rolled his eyes.

“What I mean is that I’ve only ever trained with you, too, so everyone else doesn’t live up to my expectations.”

“What expectations?” you asked quizzically, flipping one of your notebooks closed.

“Working hard but still having a good time,” he answered, waving his hand nonchalantly. “You never sacrifice good banter for anything, I value that.”

“Ah, I’m glad to know you only value me as a training partner for my humor,” you retorted dryly, gathering all your belongings into a pile and standing up. Anakin’s brows furrowed as he looked up at you, a confused look painted across his face.

“Hey, what?” he asked, standing up with you. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just makes sense that you only enjoy my conversation, not anything actually training-related.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, completely dumbfounded as you started walking away.

“See you tomorrow, Anakin,” you replied, refusing to shed any more tears until you reached your room.

----

The next morning you were too unmotivated to let Obi-Wan know you weren’t coming, deciding instead to stay in bed and do absolutely nothing. Well, you were reading, but what did that really matter to a Jedi? You were supposed to be able to do backflips through the air and take on five enemies at once, and yet here you were wrapped in two blankets feeling like absolute shit. Some Jedi you were.

You held your breath as someone began knocking furiously on the door, hoping desperately they would think you weren’t home.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” Anakin called. You groaned, turning around and smashing your face into the pillow.

“Y/N!” he called again.

“Don’t come in!” you shouted back, voice muffled through the pillow.

“I’m coming in.”

“Don’t-”

You never got the chance to finish, bolting upright in bed as the door flew open, Anakin stalking in. You rolled your eyes, just thankful he had kept the door on its hinges.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, cringing as you recoiled slightly at his harsh words.

“What do you mean?” you replied quietly, his face softening as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I meant what’s wrong, not what’s wrong with you,” Anakin corrected, taking your hand in his own.

“Nothing’s wr-”

“Don’t give me that,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t even try, I know you better than anyone Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You kept quiet, focusing on the way his thumb was rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.

“You’ve been acting off since we started training together, is it something I did?” he tried again, genuinely concerned. You laughed dryly and shook your head.

“No, Anakin, you didn’t do anything,” you replied truthfully, looking at him. “You’re perfect, I promise you did nothing wrong.” He gave you a small smile, looking down to where he was still holding your hand. He didn’t let go, only gripped you a little tighter, urging you to continue. You bit your lip, debating whether or not to tell him.

“Do you remember when that Padawan told me I needed to exercise more?” you asked finally. His head snapped up, eyes meeting yours.

“I knew it,” he murmured, nostrils flaring as he tried (and failed) to conceal his budding anger. “I knew it.”

“Anakin it’s ok,” you said, reaching out and rubbing his forearm, his gaze following your hand. “I mean, they were right, if I-”

“No,” Anakin said. “No, they weren’t right. They have no idea how strong you are, how capable-”

“Anakin I’ve struggled this entire week,” you blurted, eyes stinging and face heating up. “I pale in comparison to you, and the other Padawans, at least physically. I thought whatever training I’d been doing had been enough but clearly it wasn’t, so they’re right. I need to exercise more, I need to train more, I’m incapable of defending myself with a lightsaber and I don’t even look like a proper Jedi.” You thrust your bruised arms out towards him. “Look at these, you don’t have them, no one else does. I’m the only one who struggles with every exercise and test.”

You realized you’d begun to cry, tears rolling down your face and breaths shallow.

“Y/N,” Anakin murmured, hurt in his eyes as he took your arms gingerly in his hands. “Y/N, no.”

Your eyes widened as Anakin bent over, slowly pressing his mouth to each bruise on your forearms. You gulped, feeling a little dizzy as Anakin glanced up at you. “You’re an amazing Jedi,” he started, sitting back up straight and pulling you closer to him. You tried to pull away, not wanting to stain his robes with your tears, but he held you firmly. “You’re already stronger than half the people in that group, I’ll have Obi-Wan reassign you so you can kick someone’s ass and everyone will realize it.”

“Anakin-”

He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You closed your eyes, reveling in the warmth of his body against yours.

“There’s more to being a Jedi than using a lightsaber, anyways,” he continued. “You’re the only person our age in this whole temple that can negotiate with warlords and thieves and murderers and still come back unscathed with five new friends.”

You chuckled, biting your lip as he pressed a kiss against your hair.

“You’re perfect, Y/N,” he insisted softly, you shifting in his arms to gaze up at him.

You were surprised by how nervous he looked, as if he didn’t know how you’d react to what he’d just said, what he’d just implied. You just smiled softly, leaning up to press a slow kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Anakin,” you mumbled against his face, grinning as you felt him smile.

Suddenly he pushed himself up, forcing you down onto the bed and collapsing on top of you. You shrieked, bursting into a fit of giggles as he began nestling himself in your hair.

“Shouldn’t you still be at training?” you asked, a wide smile on your face.

“I was sent here by Obi-Wan to fetch you,” he replied smugly.

“So shouldn’t we both be getting back then?”

He propped himself up on his elbows, gazing down at you with a cocky smile on his face.

“I never told him when I’d be coming back.”

You decided you could afford to skip training another day - Anakin probably needed the rest anyways - and pulled his face down to meet your own.

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #star wars fanfiction