He woke up to the sounds of the ocean kissing the sandy shore.
He couldn’t remember what time they finally fell asleep the night before. Sleep had already started to overcome him during the last little bit of the night so he hadn’t been fully conscious, but he did remember a few things: stealing soft kisses and gentle whispers, and the sound of her laugh harmonizing with the sound of the waves.
He’d never seen her that relaxed before, and it brought her to a whole new dimension that only made him fall even deeper—it was almost like she was a new person every day. Like she was constantly shifting into new versions of herself.
He turned over in the bed to look at her—she was laying on her stomach, one of her arms resting by her head as the other remained down at her side. Her shoulders were rising and falling calmly with every breath that she took, and it was almost soothing to see her this relaxed—she had this resilient intensity about her all of the time that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and watching her sound asleep was perhaps the only time that he saw her with her defences completely lowered.
He groaned inaudibly as he gently rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, sitting up in the bed carefully as not to wake her up. As much as he wanted to stay, he needed to get back to the studio to keep working. He slipped out of the bed and padded across the room quietly, and after some debate, he decided to leave her a note. He didn’t want her to think that he was running off, but he also didn’t want to wake her—he wrote her the note and left it on the bed beside her frame, slipping out of the little home and making his way back to the studio.
She woke up hours later, to the beeping of her alarm going off on her watch.
here’s why sana and eva seem to make so much more sense to me, than sana and noora.
it feels like, clip upon clip upon clip, we just keep on seeing noora. there’s an overload of her. to the point now where, it just feels, overbearing. it feels too too much. even when she’s not got much to do in that clip (like today’s fake fake fake clip), her simple presence is just … overbearing. and we can see sana feeling overwhelmed by her too.
it just feels so forced? there is no need to have so much noora be shoved in our faces so much, yet, she’s there. she’s always there. and you can’t help BUT to roll your eyes and sigh deeply everytime you see her, because, there’s just been such an overload of her. an overuse of her, that, it just feels ineffective now.
noora says she’s dropped out of the bus because sana has. and? so? big deal? last episode she was fuming at sana, for not telling her about william and his new girl, and … now she’s okay with sana, enough to drop out of the bus for her? there’s such a lack of continuity in her character? and so now that she has dropped out of the bus, in today’s clip, she … honestly didn’t even seem that phased? just going about her usual stuff. tying her hair back and munching on a carrot. so, it’s like … well, what’s the point? what’s the point of you dropping out of the bus, that you say you did for sana, and then not even bothering to ask sana why she’s doing it, even though sana, by text, yesterday wasn’t up for talking much, noora could have asked today why she did what she did. but … it’s … just, mute silence? that’s not what “friends” do .. they don’t drop the matter. they keep at it, little by little, they keep asking. keep indirecting.
i’ve already been vocal about my issues with noora this season. she’s invalidated sana, dehumanised sana, said she’d rather be a muslim bc muslims don’t feel pain, she is literally? the definition of a White Feminist™. i’m tired of her. i’m tired of her constantly, always, just being THERE, and just … not doing anything. if this was season 1, noora would have asked sana by now what’s up with her, directly confronting her about it, and talked it out with her. but now? noora just seems so … wishy washy? there’s no … continuity in her character left anymore. i’m tired of her overload.
which is why sana and eva feels so much more organic. because, eva’s been spotting, noticing, since day 1. whether it be the pizza (which, yes, she got wrong), or just worrying glances at sana, that sana notices eva give her, or downright confronting and asking her what’s up, or trying to persuade her to stay. she’s including sana. she isn’t dismissing sana. she’s picking up on sana.
but it doesn’t feel overbearing. she isn’t taking up sana’s screen time with her problems, unlike noora. she isn’t making it about her. she’s making it about sana. keeping sana the focus. enhancing sana’s plot. asking her if she wants to join them in going places. paying attention. not dehumanising or invalidating sana.
and, eva’s presence feels a lot less gentle, a lot less subtle, than noora’s. it doesn’t feel forced. it’s not loud, it’s silent. but it still translates so much on screen. its where eva is shown to mess up (like with the pizza), but still continue trying. she isn’t shoved in every clip. there’s a gradual continuity, an organic steady growth there, whose slope keeps going upwards. she’s slowly approaching sana more and more, without it coming across as forced and plot devicey, or taking away from sana.
she’s noticing sana, in the way where she’s the only one who turns her head and looks back at sana walking away, in how she looks guilty, and tries to include sana into the conversation, in how in the bus meeting, she was the only one who wore a colour closely resembling black, as sana did, whilst the others wore white.
and it feels real to life. because, eva fucks up, but then she tries again, and each time, she tries a little bit more than the last time. it’s a development. its growth.
and it stems from just how familiar and similar sana’s struggles are, to eva’s.
they both have roots that stem from the same kinda seed that was planted, and hence why their lil friendship blossoming feels so much more organic and natural, than sana and noora’s, that just feels … artificial, superficial, and as isak put it: fake, fake, fake.
FIDGET PAD (by WeFidget on Amazon.com)
pardon the lighting, as it was hard to find anywhere quiet to make the video. if you see me struggling, it’s not that it’s difficult to operate but it is difficult to show it on video with one hand.
i have a bunch of fidget cube knockoffs at this point and this one is my personal favorite. this is the fidget pad by WeFidget on Amazon.com sold by ZOND, so if you get it from a different company or seller or website, it may be different from my description.
anything in brackets “[ ]” is my personal opinion and your experience may differ.
1. the joystick has a rounded top, not a flat one. here’s hoping it doesn’t become squeaky like certain other knockoffs. [i find it comfortable.]
2. two silent buttons and two loud clicky buttons. [these have a good feel of slight resistance to them, even the silent ones.]
3. two spinning “gears” that click. they resemble a combination lock. [i absolutely love this one.]
4. a silent roller with tiny bumps on it. there’s resistance when rolling it.
5. there’s a line of tactile bumps on one side of the pad. very stimulating.
6. there’s a “paddle” on one side that you can push and it will snap back into place.
8. a spinner. it has no resistance, in fact, it’s very loose - but won’t just stop in place when you spin it, it has some momentum.
9. two holes for a small lanyard, which came included for mine.
overall, i feel that this fidget pad is well thought out and well designed. it doesn’t feel cheaply made, but its durability is to be seen. the exterior is a velvety, matte plastic while the features are more of a plain shiny plastic.
also, you can fidget with this with two hands as opposed to just one. for me, it’s much more comfortable in the hand than a smaller fidget cube.
i recommend it. if you have any questions about this specific product, send me an ask. this fidget pad goes for around 12-14$.
Whether it is a million miles from home or in the confinement of our minds, whether it is a crime against humanity or a battle for rights and liberation, whether the sirens of war are loud or silent, there is a war always waging.
The sirens blared into your ears, the building rumbled underneath you. A panic flash back of the hot desert, the bullets spraying passed you, grabbed a hold of you. Collapsing on the ground, you bury your head into your bloodied knees. People were screaming and running around you, it all felt imploding until everything went silent. Your heartbeat was loud and rapid, tears fell down your face. It was inescapable. War was everywhere you went, tucked into every street corner.
“Ma’am,” a soft voice broke through the silence. A steady hand touched your shoulder, causing your hands to grip tighter against your head. Your body trembled violently, lips quivered as a little blood spilled from your mouth.
“Are you hurt? Let’s get you the hell out of here,” the man’s voice was calm and collective as he attempted to reach for your hand.
It was far too early
on a Friday night for Keith to be in bed and his body was simply not having it.
Groaning in frustration, he turned over and shoved his face into the pillow,
willing himself to fall asleep, even if by means of suffocation.
Behind him, his phone
chirps with what must have been the fiftieth text in the last hour. He bitterly
wonders who the latest message was from: Allura? Pidge? Hunk?
No sooner had the
thought crossed his mind, the phone begins to ring and ‘Waiting for Superman’
plays, too loud. It echoes in the otherwise silent room, in the otherwise
silent house. Loud. Far too loud. He grits his teeth, waiting for the
designated ringtone to end, and sighs in relief when it does. That was, what?
Call number four? Maybe five? Either way, he really wasn’t in the mood to deal
with Shiro or his annoying habit of trying to fix everything for him.
Honestly, he wasn’t
sure if there was anything left to fix.
Lance hides his phone under his desk and frowns at the text.
[To: My Little Pigeon]what’s wrong???
He glances up to the teacher then back to his phone while he taps his foot impatiently and twirls his pen around as he waits for a reply. However, five minutes pass with no new texts, so he taps out a second text.
[To: My Little Pigeon]Pidge?? U okay??
Another five minutes pass, and Lance is as tense as can be. Worry swells within his chest as his thumbs fly across letters on his phone.
[To: My Little Pigeon]Katie holt if u don’t answer me I’m gonna assume the worst and call cops, paramedics, firemen, the fbi, everyone Pidge. I’m gonna call everyone if u don’t answer me right now
When two minutes pass with the only text coming from Hunk, Lance makes a decision. He quietly gathers his things and exits the classroom, shooting the teacher an apologetic wave as he opens the door.
He takes a sharp right and starts toward the math hall. He knows Pidge’s schedule by heart, and he skids to a halt in front of the “Advanced Calculus” classroom only seconds later.
He peeks through the small, glass window with a frown. Pidge isn’t in her usual seat in the back corner, but her bag is.
Bathroom, Lance’s mind supplies, and he takes a quick glance around until he spots a women’s bathroom by a pair of vending machines at the end of the hall.
He approaches the door and hesitates with his hand pressed against it as the “WOMEN” sign stares back at him, but his worry triumphs, and he slowly pushes the door open with a muttered apology.
For a second, the bathroom appears empty and silent, but a sudden loud, gagging sound echoes from the back stall, and Lance’s face falls.
“Pidge?” He asks as he swiftly walks toward the last stall. “Are you okay?”
“Lance?” Pidge questions, voice surprised, but any other words are cut off as she heaves into the toilet once more.
Lance winces at the sound and places a hand on the cool stall door. “Let me in?”
After a minute, there’s a rustling sound followed by the click of a lock, and Lance slowly pushes the door open to see Pidge scrambling back to the toilet. He watches with furrowed brows as she presses up on her knees and heaves into the toilet again.
Crouching down, he places a hand to her back and moves it in small circles. The heat radiating from the small girl is alarming, but Lance opts to voice his concern once Pidge isn’t puking her guts out.
For minutes, Pidge fights a losing battle against nausea. At one point, Lance briefly leaves to wet a paper towel. He presses the cold, rough fabric to the back of her neck, and Pidge has just enough time to breathe out a grateful “thanks” before another wave of nausea has her retching into the toilet.
Three times the bathroom door opens, and Lance hears disgusted female voices followed by the door slamming closed. Fuckers, he thinks to himself.
Finally, after a long ten minutes, Pidge stops, and she flushes the toilet and allows Lance to pull her to her feet and out of the stall.
Lance walks her to a sink, and as she rinses her mouth out, he studies her.
While she’s normally as pale as can be, her complexion matches that of a ghost. There’s a grayish tinge mixing with a crimson flush colored across her cheeks. She’s also slick with sweat, but her entire body is shaking.
When she turns to him, he doesn’t hesitate to press a palm to her forehead, not surprised to find it burning.
“You’re in the girl’s bathroom.”
Lance tilts his head and puffs out his chest. “I would cross the deepest of rivers for you, my little Pigeon!”
Pidge rolls her eyes, and she wants to laugh, but her cramping stomach has her glancing back to the stall with nervous eyes.
Lance catches on, face dropping back into a frown. “Okay, let’s get you back to your dorm.” He grabs her wrist and starts quickly toward the door with the mindset of the faster the better, but she grinds to a halt, and Lance turns around with just enough time to see her throw up down her chest.
“Pidge,” he says softly, but she jerks her wrist from his hand and turns toward the sink, gripping the edges and bowing her head.
Lance watches her shoulders shake, and he knows she’s crying. Do something, his mind yells, and he drops his bag to the floor, shrugs out of his jacket then slips his shirt off.
“Here,” he says softly, and she looks up with welling eyes, but the silent question is still there.
“Just until we can get you back to your dorm.”
She nods and takes the shirt into a stall. Seconds later, she comes out with her dirty shirt balled up in her hands. Lance’s blue shirt hangs down to just above her knees, but he figures it’s enough until they get her back to the dorm.
Pidge shoves the balled up shirt in her backpack then shoulders it and staggers slowly toward the exit, but Lance stops her with a hand to her shoulder.
Lance slides his bag from his back then crouches in front of Pidge with his back to her. “Hop on. You look like you can barely stand.”
Too tired to decline, Pidge slowly climbs onto Lance’s back and drops her face against his shoulder as he slowly stands and starts out the bathroom.
“I feel like death,” she mutters, and Lance nods sympathetically.
“Never fear,” he mutters, voice light and soft. “Mighty Man Lance is here to save you.”
SIDE NOTE: Sorry I couldn’t do one for Slip Knot. I just couldn’t think of anything. He might be in the next one was. Also sorry that Katana and Joker only had 2 instead of 3 different things.
Lots of sweet little kisses on your nose, cheeks, neck, and shoulders. He’ll sneak up behind you and warp his arms around your waist. Other times you’ll be laying on the couch or in bed and he’ll be sneaky (so many kisses).
He absolutely adores when you make him dinner. Especially if you try something more ethnic. Sometimes he’ll help you a little bit by lighting the grill or stove (even if there’s a nob to turn”.
Normally when he gets upset and starts steaming/smoking you have to talk him down. Sometimes you’ll put your hands on his shoulders even if it burns a little. Other times he’ll be having a nightmare and he’ll catch fire. After a while you’ll smell smoke and wake him. Make him stand up quickly and pour water on the bed where there was fire. Then you’d hold him and lay him down on your side of the bed. Another time when you talk is when he just wants to have a nice calming conversation. Just because he feels like you always problems when you talk he wants you to have nice times when you talk.
Harley loves to put makeup on your face and do your hair. You’ll be laying or sitting somewhere, she’ll pick you up and carry you into your shared room. She’ll then sit you in the chair on your vanity. She’ll then braid or play with your hair till she likes it. Then, she’ll turn you toward her, she’ll give you a few quick kisses then gets started. She uses bright colors and pale foundation. When she ends she claps her hands and screams “date night!”
You and Harley will just be sitting or hanging out. Out of the blue she’ll bring up going to a fair or carnival. You’ll immediately pick her up and toss her in the car. She’ll laugh, giggle, and tell little jokes the whole way there. Then when you get there its like having a kid in a candy store. Its absolutely amazing fun!
She LOVES games. When you or Harley get stressed the other one of you will go get the other one favorites game and set it up. Then you’ll begin and start playing. Eventually, you’ll both be happy and playful again. Sometimes she’ll sit in your lap and keep playing. Lots of kisses and hugs are given. Lets just say there are no losers. (;
He loves when you come downstairs into the gym and workout with him. Sometimes you spar (mostly ends in ties and them some love). Other times you’ll lay underneath of him when he does push ups or sit on his back. More than enough times you’ve had battles on who could lift the heaviest weights. Sometimes you set up targets for him to shoot at (other times you’ll stand in the middle and he’ll try not to shoot you).
Between the two of you there’s no way to count who’s given the most hugs. You’ll give them to him when he gets upset or when he starts getting frustrated. He hugs you when you get flustered or when you make little mistakes that make you upset. Hugging is just more convenient than kisses for the two of you. Only because it takes longer to accomplish and let go without a fight.
Since Floyd doesn’t like it very well when you pick up and start messing with a real gun you decided to start a new game tradition. You would take a Nerf Gun and shoot it at him when he’s least expecting it. Then you’ll run and hear a ‘oh its on’ behind you. Then you’ll really start a war. He normally wins but, sometimes you’ll persuade him to give up.
Honestly you guys watch more tv than anything. It not only keeps you occupied but, it makes him focus on something other than the needs of the wild crocodile side of him. You mostly watch more adult tv than anything.But, sometimes you’ll make him sit through a really dumb tv show.
When days get a little bit more chill and he’s not into as much ‘work’ you guys jump in the car and go to a bar. Then after a while you both get bored of that bar and move along. Overall you guys end up visiting over 15 bars a night! It always gets really exciting and more creative the more you drink.
You know that his crocodile side does have to take over more of his body than looks sometimes. So, when this happens you go to a lake so that he can swim and eat. You normally sit on the bank and either get a tan or look at the stars (depending on what time you go.) Most of the time you go at night so that he doesn’t get a big thirst for people. But, sometimes you’ll go during the day just to get some sun.
Boomerang isn’t much of an adult. So, the only way to really settle an argument is to complete a challenge. Normally the challenge is who can do this the longest or who can do this the fastest. Other times you’ll do them for fun.
He loves his stuffed unicorns so anytime the two of you lay down to sleep or take a nap he gets 50% of his unicorn stuffed animals. Then you’ll go get some of yours and snuggle up together and be incredibly warms. Other times you’ll try and hit each other through out the day.
You love to make him watch kids movies. He thinks there ridiculous and lazily made. So, when the two of you watch them he always asks stupid questions. After a while he gets drunk and sings along or yells at the characters like there real. Lets just say he is better than the movie.
June loves reading and sometimes you do to. Sometimes you’ll lay together in silence and read. Other times you’ll just lay there and she’ll read to you. Normally you’ll fall asleep and she’ll keep reading but, realize your asleep and put her fingers through your hair.
She loves walking with you. Even though she hates the worst part which is getting you off the couch unless your energetic. When the two of you walk she looks and examines almost everything. Eventually you get tired and she gives you a piggy back ride the rest of the way.
Every morning when you or her don’t wake up on alarm you take it as the best opportunity ever. The one that wakes up takes a pillow and straddles them and starts beating the other with the pillow. It ends with a big pillow fight and tons of kisses. Sometimes you get out of bed other times you give up.
If there’s one thing you and Rick love its rambling to each other about the little things in life. His are normally about work or the Squad.Yours are moreabout random things.Like cleaning or your job. He enjoys listening yo you and playing with your hair. You like to listen to him. Even if you giggle about the things the Squad does to Rick.
Trying to clean up a mess made by Rick Flag is almost impossible. Because there’s bullets and guns with different bombs and traps. Its crazy! Eventually he comes home and helps you. It normally ends in love making unless he accidentally sets something off. Then it leads to getting out the ‘RICK FLAG EMERGENCY KIT.’ He always gets angry when you pull it out and you always hear about how ‘he has his own emergency kit’.
He’s a sprinting soldier. And when he wants to do something with you he usually brings up running. If you say no he throws you over his shoulder and takes off running. Eventually he says ‘your own your own’ and puts you down. Sometimes you sit and wait for him other times you run and beg him to pick you back up till he obliges.
The both of you love painting together even if it gets everywhere. When you paint she takes it mostly all serious painting people or scenery. You however will paint anything you think of. Then you’ll throw paint and she throws back. It ends up with you both covered in paint and laughing.
Kat loves yoga. The both of you find lots of peace in it. The room will either be silent or booming with loud music. When you turn on the loud music yoga moves faster and it turns into more speed stretching then yoga.
He loves to speed around the road and be the real king of Gotham. You love to encourage him because life with him is crazy and fast. Its something you never felt before. When you drive sometimes you hit things other times you trick people into thinking two of you were chasing them. Then he normally shoots them just for fun.
The two of you love laying on your king sized bed and having lots of different drinks. The two of you tell jokes, watch tv, or read mystery books. He loves talking about all the crazy things he’s done. Some of them are very interesting others are a little bit gruesome.
A/N: Here’s the second installment of this little series~ I’m glad the first part got a lot of positive responses despite it not being a smut or anything like that haha. There might be smut sprinkled here and there in this series, but for the most part my goal is to craft an ideal, cute relationship (by most people’s standards, I think), and so far I’m having fun doing just that~
This happens every once and a while. When Namjoon slips into
his ‘zone’. The zone where attempts to fulfill every single thought on his
mind, and in the process pushes basic needs aside.
You’d witnessed him in his zone a few times before—both times
occurring in the weeks prior to Bangtan wrapping up their new albums. He always
strives for his lyrics to be perfect. He wants his compositions to reflect the
mood of the song and the meaning behind the lyrics, and if he feels he’s
lacking—even if in the smallest way—he’s going to push himself until he feels
content with what he has done.
This is what you’ve learned about Kim Namjoon—mostly through
his own recounts. Because not only is he your boyfriend, but he’s your best
friend, and over your time together he’d let you into his buzzing brain and big
And in a time like this, you have no doubt that that buzzing
mind of his has descended into sleep deprived madness. With the clock striking
11PM, and Namjoon not having returned home in 2 days, your heart aches for him,
and you know that you can’t sit back a second longer.
You had been trying to respect him—to have trust in him that
he’d be able to know when to take a break and come home to eat and sleep—but…this
is getting out of hand. You had even texted Yoongi asking if the boys had managed
to drag him back to the dorm to sleep (even though Namjoon always prefers staying
with you), and, of course, his response had been “no”.
Pushing off your couch, you sigh and grasp at the extra
fabric of Namjoon’s oversized hoodie, his scent reaching your nose and causing
you to long for him even more. His hoodie keeps you warm against the permanently
cool temperature of your apartment, yet you want more—you want him—cuddled up with you and whispering
silly prospects about life into your hair as his body heat presses against your
You miss him—and you’re worried, on top of that—so this is
the final straw.
In the kitchen, you scoop up some of Namjoon’s favorite
snacks and shove them a little backpack resting in your room. You then slip on
your shoes, place the bag on your back, and leave your apartment after flicking
off the lights and locking the door.
You’re sure if Namjoon knew you were walking the streets of
Seoul at this time of night he’d have a little bit of a heart attack (because
he’s a cutie that always says “when you’re alone at that time of day a drunk
guy may try and steal you away from me”), but you confidently traverse the
streets anyway. The new Bighit building isn’t more than a few blocks away.
Stepping up to the mainly closed building, you swipe in with
your keycard (thankful that the boys had finally convinced the other staff to
make one for you), and start towards Namjoon’s studio. You pass by not a single
soul on the way, the halls eerily silent save an increasing loud thrum of bass
as you near Namjoon’s studio.
“Joon?” you call quietly as you knock on the shut door. You
wait a few seconds, brows furrowed, but the music inside doesn’t stop. Sighing,
you turn the knob and slowly step inside, your eyes casting to where Namjoon is
hunched over his desk. There are three empty Starbucks cups beside his
keyboard, along with an energy drink, and an empty sandwich wrapper. (You internally
thank the boys for looking out for their leader, even if they hadn’t been able
to get him to rest).
The floor space leading up to his chair is full of ripped
out notebook pages—scribbled with words and crumpled in frustration. And
Namjoon himself…seems crumpled with exhaustion. Elbows propped up on his desk,
his entire body is slouched, dark hair messy and unwashed. You can practically
see the fog clouding his mind—like all the gears had overheated and jammed,
leaving Namjoon frustratingly stalled because his body isn’t acting as he wants
“Joon,” you say quietly when the partial song ends, taking a
large step forward. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your hair tickling
his cheek as you nuzzle your face against his neck. At first Namjoon tenses,
caught off guard by the unexpected contact, but even his sleepy mind manages to
rationalize that the only person who holds him like this is you—so he relaxes
into your grasp with a long sigh.
“Babe…,” he says, hand reaching up to grip your arm. Your
presence is comforting to him, yet he realizes that you being here likely means
that you’re going to try and make him stop—and he’s not ready to throw in the
white flag yet…there’s just….something is missing from the melody and he’s been
debating adding more synth to the first verse—
“You need to rest, Joonie,” you tell him quietly, knowing
that he won’t agree with that. He’s stubborn in his own right. “It’s not good
to drive yourself into the ground like this,” you continue, holding him tighter
when you feel him weakly attempt to shrug you off.
“I’m not, I just…I need to finish up the lyrics and fix this
one cord…,” he mumbles, scooting forward and attempting to reach for his
keyboard. However, you don’t let him get there. With your arms still wrapped
around him, you tug his chair away from his desk and then spin it around,
causing Namjoon to face you.
“Y/N–,” he begins, his brows furrowing unhappily. You see
the dark bags under his eyes and the stubble on his chin, and your heart aches.
“I know, I know,” you say, hand reaching out to cup his
cheek. You rub your thumb along the stubbly skin, leaning down to kiss his
slightly chapped lips. You kiss him gently yet the emotion behind the gesture
is firm, and Namjoon sighs as soon as you pull back, his hand moving to run
through his messy hair.
“I know you’re determined to keep working. I know you want
to get it done, but…let me be the rational side of your brain that you’ve gone
deaf to,” you plead, hands smoothing down his shoulders. “If you get rest it
will likely help your creativity to come back. You’ll feel better, you’ll be
more alert of the tune you’re crafting and the flow of the lyrics you want to
write. You’re going to get this done, Kim Namjoon, but you’ve been here nearly
3 days now—and that’s not healthy. I don’t like seeing you like this, the boys
don’t like seeing you like this, and I’m sure ARMY wouldn’t be happy knowing
their favorite leader is beating himself up trying to get a track done. The
album will be ready when it’s ready, you have all of the boys sitting around
willing to help you. Please, baby,” you whisper, kissing him softly. “Take a
This time, Namjoon tiredly kisses you back, giving in, and
you feel a sense of relief. It seems he’s come around a little.
“I know…,” he echoes, his arms reaching out to encircle you.
He pulls you sideways onto his lap, his forehead slumping against your
shoulder. The contact has you smiling, and you begin petting your hand through
his hair, nails gently scraping against his scalp. Namjoon nearly purrs at the
feeling, his body turning into jello at the sensation.
“Hey babe…I brought your favorite snacks,” you tell him
after a minute, his eyes closed. Namjoon quietly groans in acknowledgement, his
face lightly rubbing against your shoulder in order to wake himself up.
“I’m hungry,” he grumbles, and you giggle, glad to see that
Namjoon is back to being a tired cutie instead of a stubborn, exhausted man.
“They’re in my bag,” you say, and wiggle in his hold,
pulling your backpack off and setting it on your lap. Once the zipper on the
main pouch is open, Namjoon digs around inside, tearing open packages and
shoving the snacks in his mouth, mumbling about water when he eats them too
Rolling your eyes, you scoot off his lap and fetch one of
his empty starbucks cups from his desk.
“I’ll get you some water,” you say, starting towards the
door, but Namjoon stops you. Grabbing your wrist, he pulls you back towards him
and snuggles his head against your tummy.
“Don’t go,” he says, and you bend down, kissing the crown of
“You really do turn into a baby when you’re exhausted. I’ll
be right back, Joon. I promise.”
Nodding against the hoodie you’re wearing, Namjoon releases
you, and, true to your word, as soon as you’ve filled the cup with water at the
nearest drinking fountain, you return to Namjoon’s studio. However, Namjoon is
no longer in his chair. Instead he’d somehow moved to the floor, and is now
using one of his studio plushies as a pillow, your snacks spread on the carpet
“Are you trying to perform a séance with my snacks, or what?”
you laugh incredulously, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind
you. Namjoon grunts, making grabby hands up at you, and you roll your eyes but
soon join him on the floor.
“Here’s your water,” you say, and, barely managing to sit
up, Namjoon thanks you and takes a long sip. You move the cup away when he sets
it down, and then go back to petting his hair.
“Should we go home? You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“It’s too late I’m already dead,” he grunts, his eyes
refusing to open, and you smile.
“Are we sleeping here tonight?”
“There’s a blanket in Yoongi hyung’s office.”
Huffing, you get back up and jog next door to Suga’s studio.
He’s got a little couch in his room—because he tends to pull all-nighters more
than Namjoon—so you somewhat apologetically scoop up the two blanks and pillow
he has spread on the couch.
In the minute it takes you to get back to Namjoon’s studio,
the man-child has fallen asleep, light snores filling the room. You roll your
eyes, but don’t even think about leaving him. He’s too precious to leave, and
you’ll last one night on the floor. So, that being said, you crawl onto the
thankfully soft carpet beside him, tossing the blankets over both your bodies.
You place the pillow on the ground beside Namjoon’s plushie, and then nuzzle
into his chest, sighing contently.
Despite the fact that your bed is much more comfortable, you’re
simply glad that you were able to get Namjoon to rest, and with the time
ticking past midnight, you’re fairly tired too.
However, just as you’re beginning to doze off, Namjoon’s
deep breathing lulling you to sleep, said male groans slightly and lifts one of
his arms, wrapping it around you.
“I love you,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the
top of your head. His warm breaths fan against your hair, the male seeming
content with staying there, and you smile tiredly.
“I love you too.”
The next morning, the other 6 members of Bangtan flooding
out of their car, Taehyung races into the building with his face set in a
determined frown. Jin yells after him, tone warning, but Taehyung brushes him
off. He’s worried for Namjoon—their leader needs a break—and he plans to drag
Namjoon away from his computer even if it’s the last thing he does.
Stomping to Namjoon’s studio, Taehyung grips the handle of
the shut door and steps inside, his mouth open and ready to scold Namjoon and
drag him away. However, he immediately freezes when he spots you and Namjoon
cuddled on the ground in each other’s embrace. His previously steeling heart
melts, and he pouts at the cuteness, quickly backing out of the room when Jimin
yells up the hall for him.
“Shhh!!” Taehyung scolds, shutting the door as quietly as
possible. Jimin blinks in question, a few others mimicking his face as they
round the corner.
“Mom and dad are sleeping!”
“Mom and dad?” Yoongi echoes, eyebrows furrowing. “You mean….Y/N
and Namjoon are sleeping in there?”
“Do they have clothes on?” Jin asks nonchalantly, and Yoongi
“It seems that Y/N got Namjoon hyung to finally rest,”
Taehyung says, and the others are glad to hear it. Splitting off—Jungkook,
Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung going to work on choreo, Jin leaving to record
lines, and Yoongi retiring to his studio to finish up a track—the team breaks
apart and gets to work.
Walking into his studio, Yoongi sighs and shrugs off his
jackets, tossing it onto the couch. Unfortunately, he misses his aim and is
forced to turn and pick it up. It’s at that exact moment that he realizes his
couch has been rid of its usual inhabitants—mainly his pillow and blankets.
“Those two,” he grumbles, shaking his head. Yet, as he sits
in his chair and spins it to face his desk, he finds himself smiling. Yoongi is
glad someone like you is around to support Namjoon in the ways they can’t.
Imagine losing your sibling on a hunt and Dean trying to comfort you.
–idea inspired from Izzie’s mourning in Grey’s Anatomy –
“She’s just been laying in there on the floor like that for how long?” Sam asked his older brother, finally returning from a hunt he was on with Bobby.
“Two days, ever since after the hunter’s funeral,” Dean told him.
You heard their voices carry from the other side of the door but you tuned them out not caring about anything, not feeling anything.
“Has she eaten anything?” Sam questioned.
No, I’ve tried, believe me I’ve tried, but she won’t move, she won’t eat,” Dean said, “I don’t even think she’s actually fallen asleep. She just sits there, Sam, I don’t know what to do. I can’t fix her.”
“She saw it, didn’t she?” The youngest Winchester wondered, “She saw that shifter kill her brother.”
Dean nodded and looked towards the closed bathroom door. He couldn’t stand to see you like this, he hated that he couldn’t take the pain away from you.
You heard the door open and saw Dean walk in through you blank stare. He came and sat down next to your limp body and placed a hand on the small of your back.
“(Y/N), sweetheart, how about we get you out of this bathroom?” He asked. “Maybe we could go for a drive, change the scenery for a little while?”
You slowly looked up at him and nodded your head stiffly.
“That’s my girl,” Dean said with a small, sweet smile placed on his lips. “But first let’s clean you up a bit.”
Sam watched from the doorway as you nodded once again.
Dean carefully picked you up and sat you on the edge of the tub that was taking up the majority of the motel bathroom. He grabbed a washcloth and wet it with the warm water that came from the tap.
He slowly wiped away the blood and tears that covered your face then went to work on your arms, clearing your skin from the aftermath of the hunt that had taken place a few days ago.
“Sam, grab me one of my shirts from my duffle,” Dean told his brother as he gently removed your blood crusted shirt. As Sam handed Dean a clean shirt and he placed it on you.
Dean stood up then entered the tub to be behind you. With a brush, he carefully untangled your hair then began braiding it, something you had taught him to do on one of your days off. Once he was satisfied with his work he returned to a crouch in front of you, “You ready for a drive?”
Yet again you nodded and walked with Dean, your arms wrapped around him, to the impala. He opened the passenger’s side door for you and helped you in.
You placed your head on the window and watched as everything went by quickly. Suddenly you felt the tears begin to wet your cheeks and quickly your silent tears turned into loud, breathless sobs.
Dean pulled his baby to the side of the country road you were currently on and slid over to you, wrapping you in an embrace.
You buried your head into his chest and continued to cry, your tears wetting his shirt. Dean allowed you to cry, and that’s just what you did.
Finally, your tears dried up but you stay latched onto the man you loved, breathing in his familiar scent of leather and mint to calm yourself.
“I know it hurts, (Y/N), and I wish I could take all that pain away from you but I can’t,” Dean began. “Just know I’m here for you, okay? I will always be here, I will never leave you.”
The concept of demons and angels had been present throughout the ages of time, and in Gainesville, Florida there was no exception. The small city was a hot spot for demons, but their pastors, Luke and Tyler, kept the population at the bare minimum. However, there was the constant issue of the fact that there were still demons present. On the bright side, there were also angels. Not like the population knew about them, but everyone subconsciously recognized their presence. The demons and angels stayed hidden majority of the time, only revealing themselves to those they choose.