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inadaydream99 · 4 years

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You’re Over Me?

Inspired by “You’re over me? When were you under me?” from the Friends episode ‘The One with the Jellyfish.’

Stray Kids Lee Know/ Minho.

A/N - Welcome to the first part of my Stray Kids oneshot series inspired by Friends! I have tried to not follow the scene from friends completely, just so it’s not exactly the same as the show, just inspired by. I really hope you enjoy! Also, I got a little carried away with this oneshot 😂

Disclaimer: mentions of accessive drinking/alcohol

You wake up to your alarm going off, whining as you hit snooze before defeatedly flopping back into bed. Why’d you have to stay out drinking so late the previous night? You knew it wouldn’t end well and you’d feel ill the next day.

Your head is throbbing, mind groggy as you finally force yourself to sit up, taking a moment for your eyes to adjust to the daylight seeping in through the gap between your curtains.

You don’t remeber much from the night before, apart from arriving at the bar with your friends and the first few rounds of drinks. After that it’s pretty hazy.

The only reason you’d gotten so drunk was to drown out your heartache. When Stray Kids had returned from tour a month ago, you were so excited to finally have your friends back. But that was until you received the news that Minho had started seeing someone.

You’d found out the day the guys left for tour that Minho was in love with you. Initially you were shocked, but then you realised that you’d fallen for him too. So you’d spent the whole time they were away eagerly waiting for him to come back so you could tell him how you felt.

That was until Seungmin told you that he’d started seeing another girl. You were too late.

You almost jump out of your skin when you hear a sudden knocking on your bedroom door, watching as it slowly creeks open and Minho’s head pokes through the gap.

“You’re awake...” He smiles, swinging the door open properly before walking over to your bed as soon as he sees your grumpy expression.

“Unfortunately.” You mumble, reaching over to the glass of water on your bedside table and chugging it down quickly.

“How was last night.” Minho questions, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I don’t really remeber much, but I think it was ok?” You half heartedly respond. “How was your date?” You ask, not really wanting to find out the answer.

“Actually, I had a really great time.” You can tell he’s downplaying how he feels because he cautiously looks at you while he answers. Anyone would think he still has feelings for you, but you know he doesn’t...

Of course, Minho doesn’t know how you feel about him. You two don’t generally talk about your love lives to each other, so it always feels a little strange on the rare occasions you do. Hence the awkwardness that settles between you.

“Great.” You mutter, trying to hide the sarcasm in your voice. “So what are you doing here anyway?” You quickly try to move on the topic, curious as to why you’ve woken up to him in your apartment.

“I left my keys here, luckily the guys were awake and let me in at the dorms, otherwise I would have been locked out all night.” You nod in understanding, feeling your heart flutter when Minho chuckles. “I used your spare key to get in.” He adds as an afterthought, though you had already made that assumption anyway.

“That is lucky.” You softly comment, subtly admiring his bright smile as he laughs. It hurts to think that you’re not the reason for his cheerful mood and that it was probably his date. But what can you really do about that now...

“So he had one good date, it doesn’t mean he’s taken.” Felix tries to make you feel better. You’d been filling him in on the events of last night and wallowing in your sadness over having to see Minho fall in love with someone other than you.

“But it definitely counts for something.” You sigh, staring down at the coffee in front of you, stirring it with your spoon endlessly in hopes of it providing an element of distraction.

“You know what, I’m done seeing you all mopey like this.” Felix suddenly states after a moment of silence. He’s had enough of watching you act like it’s the end of the world, so he’s gonna do something about it. “You need to get over him and move on.” He continues, placing his hands firmly on the table as he stands up.

This grabs your attention, your eyes peaking up from prue intrigue, though you don’t make any effort to wipe the pout off your face or remove your hand from resting under your chin.

“How’re we gonna do that?” You sarcastically retort, rolling your eyes as you moodily reject the idea of being able to get over Minho so suddenly.

“We’re gonna get you some closure.” Felix confidently states, feeling proud of himself as he smiles down at you triumphantly. “And in order to do that, we need to distract you.”

A meek smile grows on your face as you stare back up at him. His determination sure is adorable and it makes you start to believe that maybe he is right. Maybe you can get closure.

Your evening was set out. Felix had gone to the trouble of getting everyone together for a fun night of games.

Well, everyone except for Minho.

You’d arrived expecting to see eight of your friends ready to have a great night together. But instead, you turn up to find Minho leaving.

Seeing him all dressed up, you know straight away that he’s going on another date and instantly it makes your heart sink.

“He’s gone on another date hasn’t he.” You whisper to Felix who simply nods his head in return, shooting you a sympathetic glance. Having your suspicions confirmed your shoulders slump, posture deflated as you sit on the floor while the first game is set up. So much for finding a distraction.

It’s about two hours into the games night now and you’re still a sulky mess. It’s seems that everyone has also caught onto your mood, as you are normally very competitive. But, right now, you don’t even care about winning. All night you’ve put in a halfassed effort. You didn’t even throw a tantrum when you lost at Uno and had to pick up ten cards when you only had one left.

“Come on (Y/N), you need to stop thinking about him.” Felix approaches you after you excused yourself to get another drink.

You’d began pacing yourself with how much alcohol you were going to consume. But it’s getting to the point where it’s starting to have its impacts on your system and you’re gradually drinking more and more as time goes on. Everything is becoming hazier and you feel more at ease. It’s the best way for you to temporarily drown out your sadness.

You’re not even properly listening to Felix as he makes an attempt to comfort you. All you can think about is his words from earlier that echo in your head, “you need closure.”.

“Closure!” You blurt randomly, making Felix jump a little. “How do I get closure?” You turn to him, waiting eagerly for an answer.

“Um... I don’t know.” He replies after taking a moment to think.

“You could just call him and tell him you’re over him?” Jisung shrugs, adding his thoughts into the conversation casually. You both turn to look at him, not having realised that he’d even entered the room. “You are meaning Minho right?” He adds when you both fail to give any reaction, his eyes darling between you.

“How’d you even know what we’re talking about?” Felix questions, feeling just as confused as you are, though you are a little tipsy and so don’t really care that Jisung knows.

“It’s obvious.” Jisung brushes off the question, snaking around you to pour himself another drink.

“I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna call him.” You assertively state, both guys attention firmly back on you now.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Felix tries to reason with you. As the more sober one out of the two of you, he feels the need to make you evaluate your choices before you go through with them.

“Absolutely.” You nod, high-fiving Jisung when he excitedly encourages you, happy that you’d listened to his advice.

The next morning you wake to a commotion coming from the kitchen. You had crashed on the sofa last night, it being too late and you being too drunk to go home.

“What’s going on in here?” You groggily question, barely able to open your eyes properly as you drag yourself into the kitchen.

“I opened the cupboard and a load of plates almost fell out on me.” Minho answers whilst struggling to gently place all the plates that he had caugh onto the counter. “How was last night with the guys?” He turns to face you, sending you a soft smile.

“There was a lot of alcohol and games.” You chuckle, scratching your head before realising how messy your hair is and trying to tidy it up a little. “How was your second date?” You counteract, wanting to know the details even though it hurts. It really does feel like deja vu and yet, although you’ve been through a similar situation before, the sting in your chest doesn’t hurt any less.

“I had a really great time, we get on really well, you know? Like we just click.” Minho beams. He seems genuinely happy, which conflicts your emotions. One part of you is happy, because you only want what’s best for him, but the other part is devistated. “Do you mind if I just check my messages, I left my phone here last night so I haven’t had the chance yet.” Minho excuses himself.

“Not at all, go ahead.” You respond through a yawn, bashfully waving your hand at him as you’re still half asleep. You feel like there’s something you are meant to remeber but you can’t put your finger on it. Something that happened last night... and you wreck your brain as you trudge back towards the sofa.

“Oh, (Y/N). It says I’ve got a voicemail from you.” Minho calls out to you. That’s when you finally wake up, your eyes growing wide in fear as you spin around and launch yourself across the room towards Minho.

“Minho, no!” You shout. But it’s too late, he’s already listening to the message you left him while in your drunken state.

“You’re over me?” His face falls, looking deflated as you repeatedly whisper “no, no, no, no.” to yourself.

“This can’t be happening.” You faceplam into your hands in distress.

“You’re over me? When were you under me?” Minho more so talks to himself rather than to you. When he finally turns to look at you, he sees you already staring back at him, looking mortified.

“It’s not what you think!” You cry, tears welling up in your eyes.

“You had feelings for me?” Minho’s question comes out as more of a realisation. You aren’t even sure if he can hear you, he’s completely spaced out. “When?” He zones back into reality a second later, pressing for more answers when he sees you nod in response to his previous question.

“When you left for tour.” You squeak, your throat feeling tight from trying to hold back your tears.

“For that long? And you never told me?” Minho takes a step towards you, his tone conveying his anger. And although it seems like he is mad at you on the outside, he’s really mad at himself for not noticing sooner.

“How could I? You’d just met someone else and you seemed really happy, I didn’t want to ruin that for you.” You explain, defending the reason for keeping your feelings a secret, though it comes across more like you are pleaing at him.

“So you’re just suddenly over me?” He questions, not seeming so enraged now. Confusion has clouded Minho’s mind as he processes all the information.

“Well, what else was I meant to do?” You stare up at him innocently.

“Tell me how you feel!” Minho exclaims a little harsher than what he intended to. He instantly backtracks when he sees you flinch at the volume of his voice. “(Y/N) I’ve been in love with you for so long, I would have picked you over anyone.” He softens his voice, becoming quieter and more gentle as he reaches out his hand to take yours.

You look down as your fingers intertwine together before you feel his other hand under your chin, drawing your gaze back to meet his.

“Really?” You gush, captivated by the intense affection that’s pouring out of him. This has to be a dream...

“Of course.” He whispers. “So, are you really over me?” He asks again, though this time you can see the hope behind his eyes and the nervousness in his chest as he bites down on his bottom lip in anticipation.

“No...” you fail to hide the shy smile that breaks out across your lips. Your gaze darting to look away briefly before flicking back up to Minho when you hear him let out a chuckle in relief.

“Good, because I have no idea what I would have done if you’d said you had.” He elatedly smiles, drawing you closer in his arms as they settle around your waist.

You can feel a warmth in your chest as you stare into each other’s eyes, foreheads resting together and lips inches apart.

Letting out a deep, contented sigh as your eyes flutter shut, you know that this is home. In Minho’s arms. That this is how it was always meant to be.

#stray kids fluff #stray kids oneshots #stray kids angst #stray kids series #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop oneshots #kpop series

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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zeldasayer · 4 years

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Loving Din X - Thunder Only Happens When It’s Raining

Pairing: Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Reader

Summary: Finally reunited with your love Din and your sweet green bean Baby, life on the island isn’t what you were expecting.

*Whilemina & Stark are your parents

Warnings: ANGST, lengthy depictions of depression/hopelessness

“Listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness

Like a heartbeat drives you mad

In the stillness of remembering what you had

And what you lost”

The wind tries to push the door open with more force than you expected and you catch it before it slams into the wall, heart racing as the sound would have probably made you fall a part. You pull the door closed behind you and press your back against it. The wind whipping your hair behind you as tears fill your closed eyes and your mind tries to drown in the sound of the crashing waves, the whirling wind. Anything. You want to drown in anything.

The wind is warm and it hugs you in your loneliness and you wish you could make yourself move. To run as far away as your feet will take you. Until they are raw and red with blood, and you’ve forgotten your name. But you’re gripping the door to the bungalow as if it is the only thing keeping you from falling off the edge of the universe.

You were once overjoyed with the thought of being reunited with Din & Baby. To live together again, in the warmth and sunshine. You wanted to revel in the fact the Din’s hair has gone curly from the humidity. That Baby has to be fashioned tiny shorts to keep up with the heat. You wanted to stare longingly from the beach as Din rushes to the shore after Baby, scooping him up before his tiny toes touch the water, and hearing Din pant, “How do you get down here so fast? Where do you think you’re going to swim to?”

Instead you are plagued with insomnia. Laying silently next to Din as the weight of the room suffocates you every night. The sound of waves crashing, that you thought to be so soothing, sounds like an airspeeder crash that you cant stop from happening over and over again. The sound of Din’s breathing, that once kept you grounded does nothing to help your panic. Not even Baby’s soft snoring keeps you in your body, as Baby can no longer fall asleep alone in his own bedroom. Everything has changed. Din can’t leave for his new job teaching sign language in town without you being up before him to look into his eyes. Not in a loving way, but in a way to memorize how the irises meet the pupils, the lines in the skin around them, and the eyebrows above when you were previously satisfied with just a kiss on the head with no disturbance to your slumber. You can’t explain the reasons, but you feel if you don’t memorize one part of his face every day before he leaves, you’ll lose it forever. It’s all you can focus on, the possibility of forgetting. The possibility of losing. You feel isolated in your focus, channeling all the terror, the rage, the exhaustion into feeling absolutely nothing at all. You often wonder if you’re some knd of masochist for it depresses you immensely, yet there is a great deal of comfort in the emptiness. It’s safe in the emptiness. In the emptiness you don’t have to tell Din you can’t sleep because the thought of waking up and he’s gone again is enough to kill you from the inside, out. In the emptiness you don’t have to think about how devistating it is you can’t even take a bath anymore without Baby thinking he has to live without you again. It was sweet at first - the first night you were reunited, Baby whined until you let him sleep with you and Din. You loved it, together again with your sweet boys. But it didn’t stop there, Baby shrieked in tones you had never heard before every time Din walked away from you as he held him. Climbing up over his shoulder, arms reaching out for you, the look of fear in his eyes, for even mundane things like walking out to the beach before you as you made lunch. Baby didn’t trust Din anymore and it was evident almost instantly. Only weeks into being back together you had your green bean up on the counter, watching you attempt to get your bearings back within your art. Which really meant standing in front of the canvas all day as you had a one sided conversation with your boy. The back doors were open, for the breeze throughout the the morning and when Din came home in the afternoon the front door swung open with such force, it hit the wall. This was the first time this happened, and it was all you needed to shift into a state of feral protection. Heart racing, you scooped Baby up and in a moment of uncertainty, turned your back to the door, shaking with ragged breath, you crouch to the ground.

“My moon...” Din says softly.

You inhale sharply and turn to put Baby back on the counter. Your eyes are wide and you don’t know what you’re feeling. It’s like when you were a child and every emotion would happen at once, you’re older now but you still choose rage over them all. It’s the easiest.

“What the fuck Din? Would you watch the goddamn door, Jesus Christ!” You bark at him but you don’t stop. You rip into about how inconsiderate it is to let the doors slam, reminding him you have a child and if he wants another he’ll have to learn how to be more respectful with the noise. You don’t know who’s speaking for you, it just keeps spilling from your mouth with the intention to hurt. Speaking loudly as to not hear the terror and confusion rattling around in your mind or your heart that’s still racing through your chest. The rage within fires on as Din does nothing to stop you. He stands there, lips pursed and eyes hollow, just taking it. Your words that have absolutely no justification because you wont tell him what’s going on inside, but he knows you. He knows you’re floating between planets in this moment and you don’t trust your own emotions. He’s seen it before, and you need to make a conscious effort to come back down.

“Hey!“ Din yells, yanking your wrists up and pressing your hands to his chest. “It’s me. It’s Din. Come back down to the planet, I’m here. Tell me what is wrong, what can I do?”

You dig your fingers nails into the flesh through his shirt and he tightens his grip around your wrists.

“Everything hurts-“ you whisper but are cut off by what you can only assume was Baby believing that Din was hurting you and acting to protect you.

Din is pulled away from your embrace, slipping through his hands as he grunts in confusion. And with a force much greater than you could ever push him, he slams into a door frame on the opposite wall, falling to the ground.

Both your hands clasp over your mouth with a gasp as the panic sets in all over again. Pushing through it, you rush to him, scolding your boy as you kneel between Din’s legs. “Baby, no!”

You lift Din’s big beautiful face with your hands, as Baby turns his back to you and sits on the counter, head down. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says, sitting up.

You push the hair out of his face, then bite your lip and look up to the ceiling. Wondering, how did we get here? As your eyes fill with tears.

Din wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your chest, “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry... I’m sorry...”

Din is always sorry now.

He’s sorry you can’t sleep, he’s sorry your appetite and your inspirations have died, he’s sorry Baby doesn’t stop crying, he’s sorry you curl into a ball every time he tries to arouse you, and he’s sorry he’s the reason for all of it.

Because even though there is comfort in the emptiness, it is still the same place where Din’s finger tips now feel like hot iron. It’s the same place where even if you get a wink of sleep, you have that same dream of Din leaving with Baby in the armour. The emptiness is where you feel yourself slipping into the likes of your father and you watch yourself do nothing about it. Din is always sorry yet he never tries to help you the way Wilhemina did Stark. Are you and Din no better than two people who were never even truly in love?

In the emptiness you’re too scared to tell him how it truly feels. That you’re drowning every single day and how you don’t know how you fit into the galaxy anymore. You’re scared to tell him you feel like you did as a child and you don’t know what is looking back at you in the mirror again. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, this wasn’t supposed to be your life and at one time you didn’t know who you’d be if you weren’t Baby’s mom or the love of Din’s life but now you don’t know where you fit with them either.

It is so fucking lonely in the emptiness for every day it feels like you’re screaming out to Din and Baby, but they can’t hear you. That you’re running your finger down the bridge of Din’s nose, or the space between Baby’s eyes, but they don’t feel a thing. That you’re standing in the middle of the room bleeding out the universe in your heart that they’ve lived in for so long, but they don’t even see you.

A bolt of lightening lights up the ocean and it snaps you out of your trance. You wish you could live in the flashing light, and how it turns the water into clear blue crystal before you. Your feet finally move for you as you sink into the cold sand one step at a time, but you don’t know where they’ll take you. You want to become the ocean, the stars, the sand beneath you because they are useful. They are needed, they are beautiful. Maybe you could love Din more completely if you were the ocean he adored swimming in, or care for Baby properly if you were the sand he liked to let fall through his three small fingers. You are nothing to them if you are but your mind and your body operating as two separate entities.

Today you wept in the kitchen sink until your collarbones hurt, because Baby tried to heal you the way he does with cooking burns and small cuts. You didn’t even realize you had crawled up into your mind as you cut fruit for Baby to eat, trying to count every hair on your body that stood up from the breeze through the window. Trying to think if there were more ways you’d be useful as the breeze that flows through the bungalow and rustles the palm trees above than what you were now. Kissing Din would be easier as the breeze, you would be delicate again, like the life you once lived and that is almost enough. It’s not until you feel Baby’s hand on your forearm that you’re brought back into the room. You look down to find him with the look of concentration across his small face and you know what he’s trying to do.

“Oh no, Baby.” You coo, pulling his hand away from you. “You can’t heal this, my love.”

You mean for your words to come out as a joke at your own expense, but you could barely choke through them.

Another bolt of lightening cuts through the sky and it stops you with a gasp. The gravity of your life now weighing on you as you realize you’re ready to become the ocean instead of telling Din you don’t feel like a human being anymore, only because you don’t want him to blame himself. For you understand he did what he had to do, and you’d rather feel like this than live without him and Baby at all, so why is it so fucking hard? You’ve forgiven him, you’ve decided to move on together so why does it feel like you don’t know him at all? You are so full of rage because you know you are holding yourself back and you are so full of rage because you’re just like your goddamn father.

Aren’t you?

“Y/N!” You hear from behind and when you look back, you see Din pulling on a shirt as he steps off the deck and into the sand.

“What are you doing?” He calls again as he gets closer, and you suddenly feel like Baby. Where would you swim to?

You don’t answer, just watching his curly hair flowing back in the wind. All you want is to run your fingers through it, to feel it like you used to. You want everything to feel like it used to, but it’s too much to even look Din in his eyes and you turn out to the water.

He tries to take your hands, but you pull away and he rubs his jaw.

“You gotta let me in.” He sighs.

You look back at him with wide eyes. You’ve had this conversation before. Years ago, when you found Din’s modified blaster, before you knew he was a Mandalorian. That seemed simpler than this but nothing would have changed if Din hadn’t talked to you that night.

“Something is wrong.” You say, pulling your hair behind your ears in a way to tame it in the wind. “Something is wrong with me.”

Din looks up as it starts to rain, but neither of you move.

“I don’t feel the same, Din. Nothing feels the same. I don’t know where I fit anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, stepping toward you as you tense up, crossing your arms.

“I know you’re sorry,” you say through closed eyes and a tense jaw. “But what you’re sorry for doesn’t even matter anymore. Din, something is wrong.”

“Then tell me what it is!”

The words are caught in your chest and it physically pains you. “I want to become the ocean.”

Din looks confused, “What are you talking about?”

“When I was growing up, the only thing that kept me going was the belief that one day I’d be better. But now I’m older and maybe this is just it. Maybe I’ve felt all that there is to feel, and this is it for me.”

“Don’t say that,” Din shakes his head. “I need you.”

“What about what I need?”

“What does that mean?” Din demands, rain dripping down his nose.

“I don’t know!” You cry.

“What do you know?”

“That I love you.” You yell over the rain, “That I love you so much, but my head is too messed up. I’m tired of feeling this and it won’t stop, Din. It won’t stop and I’m so scared.”

Din takes your face in his hands, “Let me help you, my moon. Please.”

As hot tears mix with the cold rain, you bite your lip and shake your head, “What if I’m not enough anymore for you, or Baby?”

“You are all we need. This is just a moment, it will pass. Like your father’s.”

You clutch Din’s wrists, “I thought I was like my father, but I’m worse. He was brave. I am nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” Din exclaims, wiping the tears and rain from your cheeks. “The sun rises and sets for you. You and only you.”

It’s the first time Din has said that to you since before he disappeared and you feel like you’re going to collapse. “I don’t know if I have it in me anymore. I’m not strong like you Din. I want to be strong and beautiful like you, but I don’t know how.”

“You are the strongest, most beautiful person I have ever known. We’re going to get you help my moon, I promise.”

“Why are you like this? I’ve done nothing but hurt you. Pick fights and push you away.”

“I don’t care.” Din shrugs.

“Din, I haven’t touched you in weeks.”

“I don’t care, Y/N. Everything you’ve ever given me has felt like the first time. I waited 35 years for you, I’ll wait 1000 more.”

You search Din’s face trying to find one line, one section of skin, a reflection in his eye that looks familiar but you come up empty.

“Din, what if I never want to touch you again?”

Tags: @otherthingsinhead @aeryntheofficial @maryan028 @readsalot73 @osric-the-l3m0n-l0v3-demon @capsironunderoos @antclottz @intense-sneezing @igotmadskills @applesislife @marrvelle-fics @killtherandomness @holyground1996 @taoiichii @kyoko-yuuki @bookwormmarvel @xplrreylo @the-resident-demon @sad-anxious-girl @jaegers-and-kaijus @drinkfantasy @forbidden-darkness @hyveee @fangirlfreakingout @petalduck @fahhhhq @thatonebishsstuff @midnightsinger @jenniferdaniels12 @hiscyarika @tryn25 @raveviolet @watsonwise @aproperthottie @lettonystarkbehappydamnit @hyunjins-wife

A/N: I love you. Love, Zelda

#loving din #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #baby yoda #the mandalorian angst #star wars fanfiction #star wars #pedro pascal x reader #mandalorian #mando #mando x you #mandalorian x reader #din djaren #din djarin #din djarin x reader

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 4 years

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Probably because of that newspaper story reprinted after 50+ years, someone sent me a text about wanting to buy our boat.

I cried. No, I sobbed. The thought of selling it....

Rationally I know that reaction is absurd. Rationally I know I can’t take care of the boat properly alone, that no one will ever help me, and that I am never going to have the money for the repairs it needs. Rationally I know that my brother has vowed to destroy it if he inherits it, and there is no reason to think when my little nephews grow up they will have any interest in it. Rationally selling it could make sense.

But I am not rational, I’m devistated at having to consider it.

The boat was built by my father, grandfather, and mother. These are three of the four people I’ve loved most and who most loved me. (I dunno if grandma did anything other than root for them, or it would be all four). When I say “built” I really do mean than. They built every inches of it. Anything that could be fiberglass, including ladders, doors, bunks, shelves, etc, they built. They did their own wiring and plumbing. They built that big boat with their own hands over years.

It wasn’t only a source of pride but identity. The Wolfe family...oh yes, the Wolves built that boat! I wasn’t born until after the boat was built and the propeller damaged, but it was part of how folks saw me too. The family with the boat. Almost every time someone hears my family name they mention the boat to me and tell me of seeing it built or getting a tour of it as a kid or something.

I grew up with the boat as my playground. I’d climb the mast to watch fireworks, dive off the side to swim, clamber down into the engine room, hold and diving area with it’s under water portholes. I slept in the bunks, ate on the deck, and nagged Pop to teach me to scuba dive. I helped build the drydock and I spent hurricanes with Pop clinging on. I used to go there every day. Every single day.

But the boat wasn’t just an object, it was a dream. The plan had been for my family to travel the world in it. Self contained, self sufficent, and as dang near industrctable as the could design it, it was meant to be a home. My parents had been planning to raise young children aboard and and worked out ways to tether toddlers. I’ve got the books of charts lying around for that forever journey.

Things happen. Before my time the propeller got damaged and the drydock had to be built. By then the equipment was out dated and needed extensive upgrading to meet new codes. My grandfather died. New responsibilities kept being dumped on my parents. Eventually it became clear that we would never have the money or time to go...

I say “clear” but it wasn’t really. It was a gradual thing as life happens and I was probably the last, other than Pop, to let it go. “Maybe one day”, I’d keep saying, “Maybe.” I meant it too.

Not everyone felt that way. At a young age my brother got bitter and angry at Pop, feeling cheated. I just felt sad, and that sadness was as much for Pop as myself.

Pop had meant to go, he had just gotten trapped by life. If life is a river, sometimes it’s a flooding, rushing, torrent that you can’t row against and dumps you miles from where you meant to end up. And whether you can row your way back or accept where you are, it isn’t really your fault it didn’t go as you planned.

The thing is, the boat has stayed a sort of symbol to me. The boat is “maybe”. The boat is “could be”. The boat is all that remains of the childhood expectation that I’d travel the world, exploring and having adventures with the people I loved.

I dream about the boat all the time. Sometimes they are simple nightmares about breaking loose and trying to stop it from being swept away to the ocean. But sometimes the dreams are lovely, that unlived life.

Rationally I know it’s ridiculous to still think there is a chance of it. My family is almost entirely dead and I’ve become as trapped as Pop was in this place that never felt like “home” to either of us. I know full well that I’m never going anywhere and I will always be alone.....

But that relic in the river, with a porthole someone shot out, peeling paint, and a list to one side, kept whispering to me...

“Maybe”

Selling it would feel like finally, completely, accepting “Never”.

I know I need to tell Mom about the offer tomorrow. I know we need to take the offer seriously. And I know I’ll never get over it if we do sell it.

#boat #ship #hope #my day #family #my family

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jasperskywalker · 7 years

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Prompt fill: Shot Through the Heart

Quite a while ago I asked for people to send me asks for short fic prompts. I got three, wrote some of each of them and then broke my phone. Long story short, I lost ALL MY SAVED WORD DOCUMENTS and I was devistated. Today I had a bit of time in between business, so here is the first of those prompts! @ct-hardcase, you asked for Rex teaching Anakin to use guns. Here you go. I hope you like it😀. There's no cut, as I'm on mobile. Sorry. Shot through the heart: (Because I couldn't resist) “No Sir. No! You can’t hold a pistol the same way you handle your lightsaber. She has to be handled with care and respect”. “I was respecting her!” Anakin pouts. “I just think she doesn’t like me very much. Show me again how I’m doing it wrong”. Padawan Skywalker has just taken control of the 501st company under the authority of General Kenobi, and he thought it was important to get to know his captain better. They were currently in the combat arena at GAR headquarters getting to know each other’s fighting styles. Rex definitely appreciated a commanding officer who understood the need to work as a team. Skywalker was brilliant with a lightsaber, taking out targets with precision and ease, but had apparently never been trained to properly handle a blaster. “My master always says blasters are uncivilized”, Skywalker states matter of factly. Then, “lightsabers are a more elegant weapon,” he says as if he is quoting something. Rex had been nervous at first, not really knowing how to engage in conversation with someone who wasn’t a brother, let alone his Jedi superiors, but Anakin Skywalker was remarkably easy to get along with. He claimed command of the 501st without even being a General and seemed to honestly care about the clones. It was just as confusing as this training session, but the commander had asked that he be trained as if her were any other. Rex was starting to like the commander. He didn’t seem stuffy, like he thought the Jedi would be, and he didn’t think he was better than Rex or any of his brothers. Anakin Skywalker seemed to be a genuine guy. “A blaster, unlike your elegant lightsaber is not so much a part of yourself, but more. . . More like an extension of your ability with the force” Rex tries. When I watched you training, your lightsaber was being used to block and damage an opponent at close range, but a blaster can be very useful to a Jedi for longer range attacks. Like the way you used the force to destroy the droid before it even attacked when we were training earlier”. “Oh,” Skywalker shakes his head “I get it. It’s not that I’m not doing it wrong, it’s more that I’m approaching it wrong. Ok”. The Jedi stands up straighter, holding the blaster out in front of him, just like Rex had shown him, and fires at the target droid straight between it’s eye sensors. “Good work sir. Excellent shot. I knew you could do it,” Rex smiles. “Now lets see how you do with a moving target.” As it turns out, Skywalker is as much an excellent shot as he is with his lightsaber. The two of them play through several combat scenarios before the Jedi is able to take out all the targets using only his blaster, but Rex noticed his accuracy increasing with each shot. Both men are sticky with sweat when they finish their fifth practice round, Skywalker having been challenged to rely on the force as little as possible. He is smiling brilliantly though, and Rex feels a surge of pride rush straight through him. It is surprising, this whole working for the Jedi thing is not at all like he was taught. After a moment, Rex smiles back. “Nice work Sir”. “Yes Anakin, You've done a fine job”. Startled, both Rex and Skywalker spin around to see General Kenobi walking towards them. Skywalker's smile grows impossibly wider at the praise, and Kenobi claps him on the back, smiling a brilliant smile of his own. “Captain, I thank you for teaching my padawan the finer skills of blaster pistols.” Rex glances at Skywalker, surprised by the praise. “Thank you Sir”, he says after a moment. “Would you gentlemen care for a competition?” Kenobi says with a small smile playing on his lips. “Blasters only.” “Absolutely Sir,” Rex replies, eager to discover just how inelegant Kenobi is with a blaster. “Never underestimate my master Rex, he plays dirty.” And with that Anakin Skywalker sprints over to the training mat ready to take on the world. “Come along Captain,” Kenobi lilts, grabbing Rex

#fic #my fic #writing prompt #ct-hardcase #ct-7567 #captain rex #anakin skywalker #blasters

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veggie-strawtastic · 6 years

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Story time

So, last year I fell in love for the very first time in a long time.

I was really scared at first

I didn’t know what to expect at all, and there were a ton of odds agains us. My friends didn’t like him, or didn’t know him very well, he’s exactly the opposite of me, and he has a very very different home life than I do. We are in different years in school, we have weird families who don’t like most people, and we kind of started out weird.

I was friends with him before we started dating. Ish. But I didn’t really know him. We would say hi to each other sometimes and when I met him the first time I knew I was attracted to him but again, I was scared. And also with someone else, someone’s who treated me very poorly and I thought that was what I deserved. Eventually he left me, and I had been single for months after that, really finding my voice and coming into my own.

I truly met him one day on a bus.

We were coming home after a long day trip for an extra-curricular class and I saw him very very upset in the seat diagonally from me. I sent him a quick text asking him if he was okay and if he needed someone to sit with. He had been dumped a few weeks prior and was very, very devistated.

I didn’t fall in love until he was sitting next to me, and he looked into my eyes. It’s sounds all cheesy but what I saw was beautiful, his lush, bright green eyes seemed to cover me in a soft blanket of security and warmth. He smiled at me timidly and we watched something on his phone, I don’t really remember it. I remember that his hair was discheveled and the gentle brown locks fell over his face, but framed it perfectly. I remember that he was very warm, and he smelled like a field of flowers in the middle of a pine Forrest. I remember that his eyes were glued on the screen of the comedy we were watching, and his face brightened every time he smiled. I remember his straight teeth and his perfect apple-slice shaped smile, his smile lines, his eyes squinted when he laughed, his deep belly laugh.

I believe in love at first sight

You fall in love when you truly see someone. And I saw him that day. All of him.

I was terrified.

We kept talking after that, days where we spent all our time texting back and forth, pleanty of banter and jokes thrown around. Eventually I invited him over for movies and games. I was very, very nervous.

I don’t know why I was so nervous. I was having a friend over to enjoy quality films and indulge in mind numbing video games. But that’s not exactly how things ended up going.

Day of: he walked up, blue t-shirt, tan cargo shorts. Something he wore every so often. something comfortable. My dogs ran to him, greeting him with pleanty of love, and I soon followed, calling him to the other room where I had set out a movie.

Jumanji

He had never seen it.

The room was dark and we were sitting apart, but closeish on the couch. He ended up, halfway through the movie, sitting on the floor with me laying on the couch. Our heads are very very close.

He smells like a field of flowers in an emerald pine forest.

He looks over to me, his eyes...

An emerald pine forest.

They gazed straight into mine, his eyes close and he moves slowly closer to me. Our faces centimeters away.

Warmth.

Our lips touch and my toes curl. I remember calmness wash over my body, excitement next, then a smile on my lips. His too. He looked into my eyes again. Something new was there and I couldn’t understand. They looked different. Deep and warm.

Ive become used to this look now. It’s all I see when he looks at me.

Days pass.

Still scared.

I’m terrified of the thoughts of others and the complications and every possible thing that could go wrong and how it can all go wrong at that second and how if these things happened I would surly be a goner and-

And I don’t care.

I text him that night.

“I’m not afraid to be with you.”

The next day he properly asks me on a date.

The next weeks are filled with small acts of Affection, us warming up to each other fully. Accepting the small quirks and the bad sides of one another. Realizing ones strengths can be another’s weakness and how we work together to make things work out, every single day.

Months pass. The lovey dovey excitement wears off and we’re left with each other truly. We work together and remain positive through all the bumps we face. He talks me through my flashbacks and nightmares, I talk him through his own troubles. We are truly a partnership. We use our strengths to support the others weaknesses and we take everything on as a team. My love life, positive and healthy. We argue sometimes but soon we realize that one of us is indeed in the wrong, we sit and talk about it. Maturely we come together and compromise.

He gives me more than I could ever ask for.

I saw my first snow with him. Decorated trees. Enjoyed a Christmas for the first time in 10 years. Got excited for the new year. Became a quick part of his family and he quickly became a part of mine. We do anything we can together but we still respect the others space. And I couldn’t ask for anything more perfect.

Ive learned to love again with him. I’ve learned to accept other peoples help from him. I’ve learned that I’m not alone in this big scary world because of him.

He is the man I’ve always dreamed of meeting as a little girl. When I was young and knew very little of the real world.

I love him with all of my heart.

And I couldn’t ask for a better partner.

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