#greening out last night honestly just confirmed it it was like i felt everything i already feel but more intensely. i just felt nothing

[ereardon]

Slow Burn [Chapter 7][Hangman x Reader]

Summary: A one night stand with Hangman disrupts the fresh start you were looking for when moving to San Diego. The unexpected pregnancy forces you two to move fast, and brings with it some hurdles along the way as you and Jake learn how to live with each other. As the months go by, you slowly get to know the real Jake, but when old flames reappear and work obstacles threaten to topple everything, your relationship is put to the test. 

WC: 4K

Warnings: Cursing, pregnancy, no use of Y/N, hospital setting, mention of needle, angst

A/N: So I originally said this would be the last chapter, but I didn't realize how much was left to touch on! So there will be a Chapter 8 coming shortly. Thankfully I was able to crank this out before the weekend got too busy. Enjoy!

Full series masterlist here

At thirty-nine weeks, you went into labor. The first contraction hit in the kitchen as you bent down to open the oven. It shocked you so much you almost dropped the chicken pot pie you were cradling in two oven mitt-clad hands. 

“Kate?” Lucy rushed in from the other room when she heard your loud gasp. 

You straightened up and set the casserole on the counter. “It’s time.” 

While Lucy scrambled to get the bags into the car, you grabbed your phone and dialed Jake. 

“Jake?” The contraction hadn’t been that bad, but the reality that it was happening was setting in, and it was enough to take your breath away. 

“Hey darlin’,” he said. “What’s up?” 

“It’s happening,” you said and you heard his breath catch on the other end of the line. 

“You’re in labor?”

You nodded and then realized he couldn’t see you. “Contractions just started. Lucy is packing up the car.” 

“How far apart are they?” he asked, jumpy. 

“I don’t know I’ve only had one.”

“How long ago?”

“At least five minutes.” 

“Stay there, stay at the apartment, I’m coming to you. The books say don’t go to the hospital until you’re four or five minutes apart or else they might send you home and I think you’d be more comfortable at home don’t you think?” 

“You’re right." You took in a sharp breath.

“OK, baby, I’m on my way, don’t worry, you got this. Call me if anything changes.” 

***

You hadn’t given Jake an answer. The truth was, you hadn’t made up your mind. 

As you approached his hospital room the next day — he had sent you home to rest, shower, eat, all of the things you had told the dagger squad to do — you were hit with a wall of fear, mixed with nausea. You stopped halfway down the hall, rested an arm on the wall and took in a deep breath. 

“Are you OK?” You looked up to see one of the girls from the waiting room the day before looking at you with curious eyes. She had to be Jake’s sister, the resemblance was uncanny. Beautiful green eyes, tanned skin, glistening smile. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m alright, thank you.” You dropped your arm from the wall to your belly, which at this point felt like carrying a small beach ball around under your shirt at all times. 

“God, is it terrible?” she asked and you tilted your head. “Being pregnant?” 

“Oh,” you let out a small chuckle. “Honestly, it’s not that bad. Minus the giant ankles and having to pee every fifteen minutes.” 

She gave you a quick smile. “Well, I should probably go.” She motioned down the hall with her head. “Or my dad is going to have a conniption. He’ll think I ran away or something.” She rolled her eyes. 

You smiled. “Good luck.” 

She turned on her heels, scrambling down the hall and entering Jake’s room, confirming your fears. If she thought her dad would go ballistic on her for being late, wait until he saw you. 

You sucked in another tight breath and headed down the hall. With your hand on the door, you pulled it open slowly and five pairs of eyes zeroed in. 

“Did you need something?” Jake’s sister from the hallway said at the same time that Jake said, “Hi sweetheart.” 

The hoard of eyes turned to him. “You know her?” his sister asked, befuddled. 

You stood hesitantly in the doorway until Jake waved you in, setting himself up higher against the pillows and backboard of the hospital bed. “Come here,” he said confidently, patting the bed, and you stepped forward, inching past his mother and the other sister. Jake took your hand in his and you watched as the family’s reactions trickled in. His father, red in the face. His mother’s eyes glued to your stomach. One sister with a hand over her mouth. The other with a grin. “This is Kate,” he said. 

You waited for the crash. For the realization to give way to chaos. Anger. Screams. Rebellion. 

“Is that?” his mother trailed off, her mouth open. 

Jake nodded. “She’s carrying my baby.” 

His mother gasped, her hand coming to her mouth. HIs father’s face got redder and redder and you half expected him to float away like a helium filled balloon. Jake gave you a reassuring squeeze. 

His sister, the one from the hallway, broke the silence. “Jesus, Jake, really keeping us out of the loop here.” 

“I’m sorry, Steph,” he said softly, giving her a sad look. “I really am. There just never seemed like a good time to tell you guys.” 

“It’s never a good time to have a baby,” his mother said, finally. “If you wait until it’s a good time, you’ll never do it.” 

You nodded in agreement. His father continued to look outraged. Then, finally, he lifted his eyes to yours. “So what do you want?” he said and you frowned. “Money, right? You want a piece of the pie. They always do.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Dad,” Jake said, a flush creeping up on his neck. You dropped his hand. 

“Don’t act like we don’t all know what she’s doing,” his dad said, voice climbing. “You’re not fooling anyone sweetheart. Our money is well protected. Even if our first grandchild is a bastard, you’re not going to see a penny of my money.” 

“George!” his mother said sternly but he didn’t even blink. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said slowly. 

“Oh you have no idea,” George scoffed. “You’re trying to tell me you didn’t do this to get him on the hook.” He pointed at Jake who had grown pale in the hospital bed. “Thought you could dig your claws into him and inherit everything.” 

“What?” You shook your head emphatically. “First off, you’re implying that I’m a gold digging slut. Secondly, I had no idea Jake came from money. At all. I didn’t know anything about him the night we met. I didn’t even know his real fucking name, just his stupid Naval callsign.” 

“Don’t you swear at me, missy,” his father grunted. “How do we even know it’s yours? You’re taking her word for it? Tell me you asked for a paternity test.”

Jake exploded. “Stop it!” he roared and the room went silent, an uncomfortable freeze settling over. “Back off, Dad. Kate didn’t know anything about me, or the Seresin fund, when she got pregnant. So stop saying she did this on purpose. 

“And don’t you dare insinuate that my daughter isn’t mine. I never asked for a paternity test because I trust Kate. Do you know what that’s like? To trust someone? No, of course you don't. I’m so tired of you trying to control everything about our lives.” 

“Daughter?” his mother whispered. 

George was still red in the face. Jake’s sisters looked at him in awe. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake whispered to you and you shook your head. 

“It’s OK.” 

“It is not OK,” his father bellowed and you stepped back, Jake’s hand reaching out for you again, your other hand pressed to your stomach. “This is not OK, Jacob. Are you going to marry her? This is not how Seresins act, son. You’re jeopardizing everything your mother and I have worked for. All for what? Some one night stand? For a lay?” 

“Don’t fucking speak about her like that.” Jake’s jaw was tight and you watched a vein start to rise under his taunt skin. 

His father stared him down, eyes bulging. He looked like the kind of man who had never had someone stand up to him before.

His mother laid a hand on his arm. “George, let’s take a walk. Get some air.” 

He let her guide him out of the room, radiating tension. “Come on girls,” she said quickly. “Let’s give them some space.” 

The moment they walked out the door you felt like you could breathe again. 

“So those are your parents.” 

Jake was silent and you looked over, noticing for the first time how pale and terrible he looked. 

“Jake?”

He held up a hand. “I’m fine.” 

You grabbed a washcloth from the nearby table and went into the adjoining bathroom, wetting it down with cool water and pressing it to his forehead. He leaned back and moaned. “Better?”

Jake opened his eyes. “Yeah, thanks.” 

You pulled the washcloth away and sat down in the chair next to his bed. “So your dad is kind of a dick.” Jake laughed, a quick sputter, which made you smile. “When were you going to tell me you were rich?”

He frowned. “Does it matter?”

“No. But it feels like something I should know about the man who is going to be my baby’s father.” 

“I don’t like telling people because it makes them treat me differently. It's just money. That’s all it’s ever been. That’s all we are to my father, dollar figures. He doesn’t even care about us as individuals.” 

“Who cares what he thinks?”

“Easier said than done,” Jake bit back. “Wouldn’t you be unhappy if your dad didn’t give a shit about you.” 

“He didn’t,” you replied automatically and Jake’s mouth hung open. “He was a piece of shit who left. And the day he left, so did she. In her own way. So yes, Jake, I know exactly how it feels not to be seen or cared for by the people you think are going to love you no matter what.” You traced your fingers over your hard belly. “It’s why I care so much about doing better for her. I never want her to go through anything that you or I have gone through.” 

“Kate,” he whispered. “Come here, please.” He patted the bed and scooted over until there was just enough room for you to sit next to his leg. “Darlin' I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I feel like all I keep saying to you was I didn’t know. And that’s my fault for never asking. You’re so strong. You’re so fucking strong. Here I am complaining about my father when you’ve experienced so much worse.” He leaned forward, tucked a chunk of hair behind your ear. That’s when he noticed the earrings. “You’re wearing them.” He smiled. 

You tipped your head down, shy, and Jake reached his fingers under your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him. 

“Kate. I promise you I’m going to be here for our daughter. And I’m going to be here for you. Honey, you are never going to have to worry about safety or security. I’m here. I’ll always be here. If you’ll let me.” 

“I want to trust you,” you whispered. Jake’s eyes widened. “But I’m not sure if I can.” 

Jake nodded and let his fingers drop from your chin. “I understand.” 

He looked downtrodden. You knew what it meant for him to go out on a limb in your defense. He was choosing you over his family. Over their money and influence. 

He wanted you to be his family. And Lord knew you needed that. 

“Scoot over,” you whispered and Jake slid over to the edge of the bed. You swiveled around and climbed in next to him, lying on your side facing Jake, your belly pushing up against him. He reached around and wrapped his arm around your back to support you. “I want it to be you,” you murmured quietly. “I want you to be that guy for me. But for now, I just have to go with my instinct. I can’t make any decision until she’s here.” 

Jake pressed his lips to your temple, softly. “I’m here, Kate. I’m going to be here no matter what. You take your time.” 

***

“FUCK,” you gritted out, gripping Jake’s hand. 

“You got this baby,” he said. “It’s almost over.” 

You grunted and let your head fall back, heavy, onto the pillows once the contraction ended. You were four centimeters dilated and still waiting for the epidural. 

Jake swiped a washcloth across your forehead. “You’re doing so good.” 

You had managed to get a private room upon arrival at the hospital. After laboring at home for three hours, Jake had demanded you go to the hospital once the contractions got so sharp you found it difficult to speak during them. Lucy had driven you two, shakily, to the hospital, and then rushed off to get Rooster back on base. 

“I feel like my uterus is full of illegal fireworks that some dumb ass kid is setting off in a mall parking lot.” 

He laughed. You hated that he looked so fucking handsome in his green flight suit. He had rushed to the apartment fresh off of a fly day, hair slightly sweaty from his helmet, an excited but terrified grin plastered to his tanned face. 

“Why do you look so fucking good,” you muttered, “when I look like this? It’s not fair.” You moaned as another pain rippled through your lower half and Jake chuckled, leaning over and kissing your forehead. 

“You look better than you think, darlin’.”

“I hope Rooster is bringing you some ugly ass clothes to change into. I’m sick of the nurses making googly eyes every time they come in for a check.” 

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to give him a call, see where he is.” 

You nodded and Jake stepped out of the room, lifting the phone to his ear. On the rolling table, your phone buzzed and a minute later, the door edged open. 

“Hello?”

“Come in,” you huffed. 

Bob’s pink nose poked into the room first, his glasses slipping down as he made his way to your bedside. “How are you?” he asked gently.

You looked up at him and smiled tiredly. “Exhausted and it hasn’t even really started.” 

He nodded and took a seat in Jake’s vacated chair. “Everyone just got here. They’re in the waiting room, Jake’s with them.” 

“It’s gonna be a while, you guys totally don’t have to be here. It could be twelve hours for all we know.” 

Bob gave you a small smile. “We want to be here.” 

You reached out and took his thin hand in your own. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you guys. Your friendship these last few months has meant the world to me.” 

Bob blushed behind his glasses, using one finger on his free hand to push them up. “I’m really glad I’ve gotten to know you.” 

“I was going to wait until she was born,” you said, “but I can’t. Will you be my daughter’s godfather?”

His mouth dropped open. “Are you sure?”

You laughed and nodded, a small tear slipping out of your eye. “Positive. No matter what happens between me and Jake, I want it to be you.” 

Bob stood and leaned over, kissing your cheek. “I would be honored.” 

You smoothed a thumb over his cheek. “You know what being a godfather means, right?”

He froze and you laughed. 

“It means buying her beer when she’s eighteen and not telling me about it.” 

Bob laughed and nodded. “I think I can manage.” 

The door swung open. “We’re back!” Lucy and Rooster filed into the room, followed by Jake now dressed in a pair of shorts and a button down. Lucy immediately started unpacking your bag in the corner and Rooster gave you a kiss on the cheek. 

“How you doing, rockstar?” he asked and you smiled. 

“Doing OK. Jake, should we ask them? I already talked to Bob, but we can do it as a group.” 

He nodded. 

“Ask us what?” Lucy said, popping her head over the corner of your suitcase that she had propped up, pulling out a cosmetic bag and a fuzzy blanket. 

“Come here,” you motioned and she stood up, finding her way to Rooster’s side. “We love you guys so much. I already asked Robert, but Lucy, Bradley, we want you three to be our baby’s godparents.” 

Lucy yelped and leaned forward, grabbing your hand and jumping up and down. “Of course!” she beamed. You and Jake turned your eyes to Rooster, who stood still. 

“Bradshaw?” Jake asked softly. 

Rooster sniffed quickly and you reached out with both hands, grabbing his hand closest to you. “We’re alike, you and me,” you said gently. “Kind of lacking in the family department.” He nodded. “We think of you like family, sweetheart. You can say no, we’d understand. But we’re asking you to let us in. This doesn’t just mean you’re there for the baby. If you say yes, it means we’re here for you. We’re your family.” 

Rooster bent forward and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “Of course,” he said softly and you smiled. 

“Thank you, Bradley,” you whispered. “You’re stuck with us now.” He laughed and wiped away a small tear that had formed in the corner of his eye, and Lucy wrapped her arm around his side. 

Amid the chaos in the room, you could almost ignore the pain that started to build in your lower abdomen but Jake spotted your face contorting from his spot at the end of the bed. “Another one?” he asked and you nodded, breathing out sharply. 

“We should wait outside,” Rooster said, hooking his thumb behind him toward the door. Bob nodded and followed, along with Lucy who gave you a wink.

After the contraction was finished, Jake looked at you. “Can we talk?” 

***

“What do you mean he’s rich?” Lucy demanded, her plate of pad thai bouncing as she slammed her palms against the coffee table that she had her legs crossed under. 

You moved your water to the side table and leaned back in the couch corner. “I mean I don’t know just how rich, but enough that his dad thinks I got pregnant just to trap him or something? I heard something about a fund, I don’t know.” 

“Holy shit,” Lucy said, her eyes glued to her phone. “Are you wearing a diaper? You should be, you’re going to pee just hearing this.” 

“What is it?” 

“According to Google, the Seresin family fund is one of the top fifty largest single family trusts in America.” 

You went slack jawed. Lucy looked up and caught your eyes. “What the fuck?”

“What the fuck is right,” she yelled, jumping to standing. “What the actual fuck.” 

“Wait,” you said, pushing to standing and crossing the room, pulling the envelope Bob had pressed into your hands at the hospital weeks before from its place in the top kitchen drawer. “I never did open this.” 

“Open it!” Lucy demanded and you ran a shaky finger under the lip of the envelope. She shifted anxiously from foot to foot waiting for you to read it. “What is it?” she asked finally, too antsy to wait. 

“It’s a will,” you said softly. “It was notarized in early October, just after I moved in with Jake.” 

“What does it say?” 

You looked up in shock. “In the event of his death, he's leaving me and the baby everything. The house, all of the shares of his family business.” 

Lucy’s eyes widened into saucers. “What does that mean? Does it say anything else?” 

“Luce,” you said, voice scratchy. “It’s $900 million dollars.” 

***

“Five more seconds, Kate,” Jake said and you squeezed your eyes shut, clamping down on the bed rails. 

When you opened your eyes, you almost saw spots. “It’s time for the epidural now, right?” you begged. 

Jake looked at you with pained eyes, and just as he opened his mouth to speak the door swung open. “Kate? I’m Dr. Nichols. I’ll be your anesthesiologist.” 

“Thank GOD,” you muttered and nodded as the doctor wheeled in his cart and waved in a nurse. 

The doctor had you sit up and lean forward, Jake stationed between your legs. You gripped his arms as he slid the needle into your lower back. 

“How long does it take to kick in?” Jake asked as you buried your head into his stomach, his fingers stroking your hair lightly. The doctor wiped at your back softly. 

“Generally you should start to feel the effects in twenty or thirty minutes, but it could take a little longer, it really depends. You can lie back down now, Kate.” 

Jake helped you readjust back against the pillows and you thanked the doctor and nurse as they cleaned up and exited the room. 

“Distract me,” you begged. 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“I opened your letter,” you said finally and Jake’s eyes widened. “Why did you do it?”

Jake shrugged. “Because I wanted to.” 

“But you wrote the will before anything between us really happened. We’d only known each other a few weeks by then. What made you so sure?”

“I trust you, Kate. I’ve always trusted you.”

You sighed. “It’s not that easy for everyone.” The epidural still hadn’t fully kicked in, and you grunted, shifting forward in pain. 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kate.” He rubbed your thigh under the thin hospital sheet. 

“You already apologized,” you said, leaning back in relief once the contraction ended, mistakenly believing he was referring to everything that had happened after Brody. 

Jake looked up. “No, I’m sorry for this. It’s my fault you’re here in pain.”

“Sweetie,” you said, reaching out and grabbing his hand. His eyes locked on yours. “Don’t ever be sorry for that. You’ve given me the best thing in my entire life.” Your hands reached down and pressed against your stomach. “And it might feel like I am shitting out straight C-4 right now, but it’s going to be worth it. We’re going to be parents, how crazy is that?” 

“But you have to do it with me,” he said softly and you tilted your head. 

“What do you mean?”

“I love you, Kate,” he said quietly. “I am in love with you. And I am so fucking excited to have this baby with you and watch you be an amazing mother. But it’s because I love you that I feel so guilty. I put you in this position and I don’t know how you feel about me. So for me, it’s great. I get to have and raise a baby with the woman I love. But for you, you’re stuck with me.” 

Jake looked down at your stomach and placed his hands on either side. 

“I’m so excited to meet you, sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your bare belly. “Daddy can’t wait to meet you.” He looked up and you spotted a tear in his eye. You couldn’t stop it before it dripped out and landed on your bare skin. “You have the best mommy in the world, do you know that?”

Without realizing it, you started crying. Jake leaned forward and wiped the tears from under your eyes with his thumbs. 

“Honey?” he whispered and you shook your head. His fingers moved to grab your face on either side. “Kate, what is it?” 

Lifting your eyes to his, you smiled softly. “I love you too, Jake. Despite everything. In spite of everything. I love you. I'm still upset at how you acted, and I know it's not going to be easy. But you're the person I want standing next to me when everything goes to shit."

Jake grinned, the widest pearly smile you had seen across his face in months. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. "Alright, sweetheart, time to have this baby.” 

Tag list: @lgg5989 @sqrlgrl22 @okayyypurrrr @khaylin27 @bleuisabella @abaker74 @fangirling-4-ever @dempy @backinwonderl4nd  @cool-ultra-nerd @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy  @belledawnidk @momc95 @oneelleandaneye @xoxabs88xox @endofdays56 @lilylilyyyyyy  @yougottalovefandoms  @eringaitskill30 @skylarisaturtle @amj29292 @shawnsblue @krismdavis @shanimallina87 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rosiahills22 @blue-aconite @barbiewritesstuff @justanothermagicalsara @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @hail-horror-queen @sidneymarie24

[criolla-star]

Overwhelmed (Vinny x Garmadon) part 36

(I suggest you check out parts 1-35 if you haven't already)

It was the next morning and Garmadon woke up and by morning I mean 8:31. The oni sat up and noticed Vinny sleeping next to him, he wasn't facing him or hugging, he felt a little sad but let out a sigh. "What's going on with you..." Garmadon whispered to himself as he stroked his hand through Vinnys' hair. Truth was Vinny had only gotten 2 hours of sleep last night due to Enjis' tormenting and how long he was staring at the roof.

The oni stood up and thought it was best to leave his lover alone to rest but he went to the kitchen where he saw Lloyd, Zane, Kai and Wu. "Morning brother" Wu greeted his brother when he realised he walked in, "Morning" The other three said, "Morning..." Garmadon responded before sitting down next to his son. "Will Vinny not be joining us?" Wu asked as he poured himself and his brother some tea and pushed the cup towards him.

"I think it's best he has some space...." The oni replied as he looked down to the cup of tea, "He alright? Is it like yesterday?" Kai asked curiously as he drank some coffee, not all of them knew why Vinny really didn't come down yesterday they just made up a lie that he was sick. "No....just really tired..." Garmadon responded he was avoiding eye contact which was unusual for him and it was obvious he was lying. "Kai, Zane, can you two go somewhere else, I wanna talk to my dad alone" Lloyd whispered to his friends which they listened, "Sure, was gonna go train either way" The fire ninja said before leaving probably to go outside, while Zane nodded, "Pixal does need my help" The ice ninja said before leaving.

"Did something happen between you two?" Lloyd asked as he sat down in front of his father who was still looking down. "Why would you suggest that?" Garmadon replied starting to get a little defensive as he took a sip of tea. "Lloyd does have a point, I've noticed you have been quite distant with him...and no one is confirming he's mad with you" Wu added he knew why Vinny was acting like this but had to keep it a secret due to him trusting him.

"It isn't my fault! He's the one that keeps pushing me away every time I ask him about it!" Garmadon hissed, he really was triggered at what they were saying, he didn't want to be distant to Vinny, he wanted to stay close and protect him and he felt like he was failing at that. "No one is blaming you, we are just wondering if something has happened to him that you know of" Wu replied as he calmed his brother down. "I...I don't know, he's been quiet and avoiding my question" The oni added.

"Why don't you keep bothering him about it?" Lloyd asked curiously, he really was unaware of everything like Garmadon, Wu was told by Vinny what was stressing him mainly because Vinny didn't want to worry Garmadon. "I've tried....he tenses up and his mood changes completely, I don't want to upset him in any way" The oni responded as he drank more tea. "Maybe you shou-" Wu was about to say something when Vinny walked in. "Morning" Garmadon instantly said to Vinny hoping he was in a better mood......he was not in a better mood.

The cameraman looked back at Garmadon, "Morning..." he mumbled in reply before looking at Lloyd, "This is coffee right...?" Vinny asked as he pointed towards a jug, the green ninja nodded. The cameraman looked terrible he had black circles under his eyes and his hair was a mess, random strands poking out guess that's what 2 hours of sleep does. "You hungry?" Lloyd asking trying to act normal, Vinny shook his head and poured himself a large cup of coffee. There was an awkward silence between the four Vinny was drinking his coffee. "Soooo...did you sleep well?" Lloyd asked breaking the silence, Wu let out a sigh of disappointment at his nephews' dumbass question while Garmadon let out a groan. Vinny looked at him in silence and honestly it was deafening.

"Morning! What's for breakfast?" Jay said as he walked in, before looking at everyone and realising they were looking at Vinny, Jay looked at the cameraman who was staring at him. The lightning ninjas' eyes widened noticing how sleep deprived he looked, "Hah...I'll go out for breakfast with Nya instead, fine with you sensei?" Jay said out awkwardly, and Wu nodded in reply while Jay hurried off.

Vinny chugged the rest of his coffee before filling it up again, "I'm gonna be in my room..." The cameraman said before leaving. "Did...did he get any sleep last night?" Lloyd asked worriedly after Vinny left. "Yea...he was sleeping when I left" the oni responded before letting out a groan of annoyance and standing up. "Where are you going?" Wu asked curiously, "Going to make sure he gets some sleep" Garmadon replied before walking back to his room.

(HAUHAUIHAH I got some shit prepared for the next few chapters!!!)

[1dont-really-know]

This was supposed to be a Valentines fic but uhhh anyways enjoy :3

Thank you to @kitwasnothere for beta reading <3

Featuring : Lilia Vanrouge, Malva Draconia (oc), other mentioned characters (Maleanor, Altair (oc), Coriander (oc)

This is it. This is his chance. The stars are shining beautifully above them, yet he can’t seem to look away from her eyes; eyes that shine brighter and more beautiful than any star. How long has it been since he first met her? He didn’t know, truly. Every moment with her felt like an eternity and a mere second at the exact same time.

“Listen, I-”

“Are you seriously reading that novel again?”

The sudden voice almost made Malva drop her book. How she didn’t hear nor feel them approaching, she doesn’t know. Her heart hammers wildly as she bolts upright and whirls around to face whoever it was that had interrupted her reading, clutching the book so tightly to her chest that she was sure the pages were going to be so wrinkled it’s going to be hard for her to read any further after this. The chair she was sitting in falls to the ground with a loud thud as she does.

Lilia is there, leaning casually against one of the poles of the medical tent, his eyes locked on the book in her hands. “You know the queen is going to force you to come back to Black Scale Castle if she finds out you’ve got your hands on romance novels again, right?” And he sounds so amused by that too…!

Malva’s ears burn with embarrassment. “If you tell her then you should look out for pretty red yew berries in your food the next time you eat anything.” She hisses, quickly placing the book behind her back.

He looks so genuinely amused. She can honestly see it now, hovering above her like a guillotine ready to drop at any second, and the person holding it there is none other than Lilia Vanrouge himself. She still remembered the last time he found her novel collection. Those endless nights bored out of her mind with nothing to do and not able to meet with her best friend at all. A shiver runs down her spine at the memory.

“And I’m the only fully trained healer you have on hand right now. What are you going to do, put Coriander in charge of everything? I don’t think so.”

“I’m not going to.”

“And I’ll cut off your- wait what?”

Lilia shrugs, pushing himself upright and stepping towards Malva so casually that she was caught off guard enough that he managed to snatch her book right from under her nose. He opens right on the page she was on.

“A confession scene? I didn’t know you were such a sap, Malv-”

Inhale-

“Huh? Wait-!”

FWOOM!

A cone of dark-green fire spews from the dragon fae’s mouth, coming dangerously close to burning Lilia to a crisp. Thankfully, he managed to dodge just in time. Sort of. The tips of his hair are very charred now.

“What the hell?! I  just told you I wasn’t going to snitch!”

Malva, pinned under the weight of his glare, takes a few tiny steps back. She had only meant to scare him into dropping the book. And that’s what she mumbles out. Though she doesn’t really seem to mean it since her attention is currently focused on said book, checking it all over for any damage while also barely acknowledging how she almost made him into a roasted bat.

The book is unscathed. With that confirmation out of the way, Malva straightens up and turns back to Lilia. Now that she takes the time to actually look at him, the back of his left hands does seem to have a small burn. She winces slightly at the sight. “Are you alright?” she hesitantly asks, feeling just a little bit guilty for his injury. 

The glare he levels her with is all the answer she needs.

“I’ll… go get the aloe vera.”

*°*°*°*°

Ah. This wasn’t what Malva wanted to happen. This was supposed to be a decent day. There had been no injuries or accidents that she needed to tend to, they have now enough potions and herbs to last at least five to six years, and while she’s technically the only fully trained healer present, Coriander and Altair both have enough training for small injuries and ailments. She was having fun and reading her novel and suddenly she almost killed her kingdom’s army’s General.

Lilia slowly pulls his hand away after it has been sufficiently treated, hesitating to remove his hand from hers and carefully flexing his muscles, and upon confirming that it no longer hurts too much, drops it onto his lap and sighs. “What was that about?”

Malva looks away from him, “I didn’t want to risk you telling on me and taking the book away.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Lilia deadpans, “I told you that already.”

Malva feels even more guilty.

Almost mechanically, she stands up and makes her way to her storage chests. Opening it, she starts to count and sort the contents once again, even though she just did so a few nights before, humming to soothe herself.

After a few seconds of near-silence, though, the General once again speaks up, sounding just as awkward as he probably felt, “so… how have you been lately?”

Malva pauses. She tilts her head slightly to look at him, cocking her head to the side questioningly. Lilia, much to her surprise, doesn’t turn away from her, watching her from the corner of his eye like she watches him.

“Why the sudden question?”

“Well, you’re always so concerned with everyone else, yet you don’t really seem to give yourself too much of that care.”

“I’m a healer,” Malva states, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “it’s what we’re supposed to do; care for others.”

“And yet only you are the one who stayed awake for weeks on end to ensure the health of our troops while you force your apprentice to get the rest that you deny for yourself.”

“You do the same, do you not?”

“Hm?” Lilia looks at her strangely as she makes her way towards him and leans against the table right next to his chair. (Her’s, really. He put it back upright and sat on it after she caused it to fall in her haste to get her book away from him.)

“Don’t think that I didn’t see that you made sure your men get fed before you do, Lilia,” Malva arranges her tail to curl around her side and onto her lap, brushing off the dust from between her scales. She knew what he was really talking about, that hypocrite. Why she would care so much yet not accept much care in return is different from his reasoning, however. This was her job, her duty that she chose for herself. She knows that she is cared for; it’s in how she’s able to do what she loves as she does. The care that comes with respect. The care that comes with being able to be at least somewhat sure of her safety in the middle of a war. She cares, and she gets care in return. The professional kind of care. He, like her, accepts this kind of care, yet when it comes to the care he should care more about… 

“But to answer your question, I’ve been well.”

Lilia hums, a thoughtful look on his face as he studies her expression, “I made the right decision in making you go to Wild Rose, even if you took a detour that I explicitly told you not to have.”

Altair is right outside of the tent, out of Lilia’s field of view, but Malva knows he’s talking about him. “Was it that obvious?”

“People don’t usually randomly meet their childhood friends when they teleport home, Moonlight.”

Right. She did teleport right in front of him after she said she was going to go to Wild Rose. In her defense she didn’t really feel like listening to his rant about how she was overworking herself anymore.

Seeing her sour face, Lilia chuckles, his red eyes shining with amusement and something else entirely, “did you know that there has been a rumor about you lately? They say that that half-human is your secret lover.”

Malva didn’t miss the way his smile seemed to become the slightest bit more forced at that last word. She frowns even harder, “Altair? Why would he be my lover to any extent?” She does love him dearly, she’d be the first to admit that, but a romantic relationship between her and him? Really? 

It’s Lilia’s turn to look confused, “is he not? You’ve spent a lot of time with him ever since he’s joined us, not to mention that you’re the one who insisted for him to stay and become an acting healer.”

He looks and sounds oddly relieved. 

What is that- what is that supposed to mean.

“I mean, I care about him a lot, but not in that way.” at least not for now since I have someone else in mind.

Lilia raises an eyebrow at her claim, that little amused smirk returning to his face. “Maybe your notoriety for being a hopeless romantic has caught up to you, your Highness.”

“Oh please, it’s not like I read those books out in public.” Malva says, rolling her eyes.

Another chuckle, and Lilia looks to the storage chest in the corner of the tent, the place where Malva had shoved her book into. “No, but the incident is still fresh in people’s minds, you know.”

“Really? I was barely one hundred and ten! And it’s been more than twelve decades since then!”

Lilia just laughs even more at that. His joy in teasing her is palpable, even more so when it’s about something as petty as this.

“I shudder to think of how you’re going to react to me getting an actual lover,” Malva grumbles, “between you and ‘Leanor, I’m never going to know peace again.”

“Hah! Well tell me when you’ve found someone alright?” he snickers. Lilia looks so smug about her not having any lovers. She has half the mind to point out that his love life is no different from hers, and that when he fell in love-

Malva stops mid-thought. Lilia, though looking still away from her, has a small, almost victorious smile on his face.

Now that she thinks about it, this is the first time after she became a healer that he went to the medical tent without his or someone else’s health in mind. 

Looking out to the clearing beyond the tent, Malva sees a pair of sapphire-blue eyes watching her from a distance, along with a cheeky grin with prominent fangs.

She hums in understanding, trying to stifle a laugh at the thought of her apprentice purposefully casting a glamour to make sure she didn’t notice Lilia approach. Still maintaining eye-contact, Malva twitches her tail to Lilia’s general direction, to which Coriander nods and mouths something that looks suspiciously like ‘don’t be a coward’. 

Perhaps the teacher should listen to her student, just this once. 

“How about you? Does the great Phantom General have any lovers?“

[sailorsolar12]

Beach Days Part 4 - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw FemMitchellOC

Here is Part 4 of Beach Days. I am not sure how many parts this is going to be, but I know based on how I write, I will make it at least three.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Rating: M - Yes I am upping the rating

Words: 2.0k

Warning: Some agnst, fluff, screaming, swearing, tears, overprotective fathers, little bit of an age gap (11 years), and Hangman being Hangman.

Summary: As the daughter of Pete Mitchell and Penny Benjamin, Lily - nicknamed Sunshine by the pilots of Top Gun- had grown up with Bradley Bradshaw. She had admired him when she was a child, but now she didn’t know if she hated him or loved him after blaming her for what her father did when he pulled Bradley’s papers. A day at the beach changes the perspective of a lot of people while Lily’s father tries to train the pilots called back to Top Gun to be a team.

Lily was humming the entire day as she cleaned her place. She felt so happy that she had been able to start the process of patching things up with Bradley. She bit her lip lightly pausing as she thought of what her mother had told her. She really did see Bradley as more than a friend, and she hoped that maybe…one day…they could be together. The 27 year old knew that Bradley’s job was dangerous, but since her father was also in the top 1% just like Bradley, she had grown up with the different deployments where she couldn’t know where he was going and couldn’t talk much to him. Her green eyes glanced over to her phone seeing a text message from her mother.

*How did everything go with Bradley? How about you tell your sister and I over lunch?*

Lily bit her lip lightly and giggled suddenly. *That one little café in like twenty minutes?* When Lily got confirmation from her mother, she put the cleaning supplies away and changed into a simple pale pink sundress with lilac mini flowers on the fabric. She took her dark brown hair out of its messy bun and flipped her hair slightly a few times before grabbing her purse and phone and meeting with her mom and sister. She blushed faintly at the teasing smile that was on her sister’s face and knew immediately she would not hear the end of it from Amelia. Sunshine gave a slight groan as she glanced at her mother expectantly as if asking why she had already told Amelia, but her mother simply gave an innocent smile. With a shake of her head, the trio sat on the patio of the restaurant and ordered their usuals while enjoying the sea breeze. The café they always went to wasn’t very far from the Hard Deck, and Lily had a sneaking suspicion that her mother was working with either her father and/or other pilots to try and get Bradley and her together. The 27 year old bartender blushed as Amelia leaned forward smirking at her sister.

“So…what kind of fun did you and Bradley have last night?” Amelia asked hoping for some kind of juicy details after having seen Pete sneak out of their home the night before. The teen hissed slightly as Sunshine kicked her shin. “What?! Oh come on! I am not a little kid anymore. I mean honestly, you should be having the talk with Mom about no sneaking boys out,” she quipped and giggled as her mother choked on her water.

Lily gaped at her mother like a fish out of water. “No! Mom! You brought Dad home and…let me guess…when Amelia came home early from her sleepover, you had him leave through the window like you used to before he went to Top Gun?” A teasing smirk made its way onto her lips as her mother turned scarlet. “Wow, Mom. Just wow. However, to answer your question Amelia, nothing like what Mom did happened between us…well except the kiss,” she finished in a whisper with a light blush.

“Okay! So what led up to the kiss? Did he beg? Did you make him beg on his knees?” Amelia asked, firing off ideas causing her sister and mother to go wide eyed at the thought.

“I did not make him beg, Amelia. We were actually in a slight screaming match right before the kiss…then he said something, and I was about to cry. We confessed to liking each other before he kissed me,” Lily explained shyly. She giggled happily as she replayed the kiss in her mind and felt her cheeks heat up. “Then, I brought out some wine, and we cuddled on the couch watching Disney movies a good chunk of the night like we used to when we were younger.”

Amelia gave a huff and a pout as she began eating her waffles. “Come on, Sunshine. I want nieces and nephews already,” she said in a slightly whiny voice to tease her sister.

Penny went wide eyed at her youngest. “Amelia!” she scolded lightly as Lily turned bright red at the thought. She was quiet for a moment before looking at her oldest. “Now that she mentions it…I would like a grandchild or two.”

“MOM!” Lily yelled, covering her face in embarrassment. “Good Lord! You two are…ugh.” Lily focused on her food blushing and trying not to think about the prospect of having kids with Bradley. The brunette sat with her mother and sister for a few hours talking about anything and everything while eating and having fun together. Lily unlocked her phone to see what the time was and choked on her food coughing as she clicked on the notification from Bradley. She swallowed her food before bursting out in a loud laughter at what she saw. Bradley had sent her a photo of her father getting ready in his jet, but the hatch was still open. Her father had his helmet on, but there was a seagull casually sitting on top of his helmet ignoring Maverick’s hands trying to swat him away so that he could get into the air. However, the bird didn’t like her father trying to swat him away and looked as if it was trying to bite his hands.

*Your father has made a new friend.* was the comment that Bradley typed out in their thread.

Penny furrowed her brow confused before taking the phone from her daughter and spitting out her soda to the side of the table seeing the image of Pete and giggled intensely. “Please send that to me,” she asked Lily who nodded through her laughter as Amelia got a look at the photo and typed out a response to Bradley.

*Karma in response to sneaking out through the window. -Amelia*

*He snuck out through the window? What is he? A teenager?? And why isn’t Lily responding…this is her phone?*

Amelia smirked sending a small video of Lily and her mother who were both slowly turning blue from lack of air while they laughed and gasped out words. *Because they can’t talk right now…*

*Mav is not going to live this down. Now, I gotta go. The bird finally left, but not before pooping on Mav’s helmet. Tell Lily I will be by the Hard Deck at 2000.*

Amelia smiled as she slid her sister’s phone back to her once Lily finally seemed calm enough to breathe and talk normally. “He said he would be at the Hard Deck by 8 tonight. Oooooohhhhh…do you two have a date already? Things seem pretty chummy with good ol’ Bradley,” she teased Lily.

Lily blushed heavily as she took her phone and looked out at the ocean as two F-18s passed by. “I…I really want things to work out…because I cannot see myself with anyone else besides him,” she whispered softly. “And yes…we are going on a nice walk along the beach tonight. It’s nothing grand or anything, but I’m okay with that honestly. I’d rather have a walk over a stuffy, nice restaurant.” Lily finally looked at the time and stood leaving some cash on the table. “You still want me to open tonight, right? You’ll be in by 8 though?” she asked her mother who nodded with a smile before Lily left the pair and walked to the bar while saving the photo Bradley had sent as her father’s new contact photo.

*Later that Night*

Sunshine smiled at her customers as she stood behind the bar manning it by herself perfectly. She had successfully done her mental checklist for opening, and the customers had been steady that night. However, it was now 7:30 pm and getting busier. She looked around making sure that the busboy that was there for the night was going around again as she wanted him to go around about every 45 minutes at first, but with how busy it was getting…she told him to go every 10 to 15 minutes. Her green eyes danced with mirth as she saw one of the new customers leave his phone out on the bar before she reached up and rang the bell loudly causing those in the bar to cheer just as the pilots came in from a long day of training. She pointed to the sign as the new customer gave a groan and shrugged as if telling him, “Tough luck.” The brunette hummed as she began filling a new order of drinks. She was holding the shaker over her left shoulder as Phoenix came over to the bar to get drinks for the gang. “Give me two minutes,” Lily said while expertly pumping out the six drinks and four beers for the order that came before Phoenix. The 27 year old smiled at the pilot as she leaned on the bar. “What can I get you guys for the night?”

“Just some beers,” Natasha said, smiling back.

Lily nodded and grabbed a tray for Natasha to carry and broke out enough beers for the group, noticing that Bradley wasn’t with them while her father was. She opened a beer for each of the pilots and slowly handed Natasha the tray. “You got a hold on it?” she asked lightly. At the Pilot’s nod, Sunshine turned back around as her mother came behind the bar with a nod of approval.

“Everything seems to be running smoothly,” Penny complimented her daughter. She had passed Bradley on her way inside the bar realizing he was trying to give himself the confidence to walk in here and see Lily. She had told him to just be himself, and that caused him to look more like a nervous wreck than he already was. Penny kissed her daughter’s temple and murmured, “He’s right outside.”

Lily blushed as she looked at her mom for a second before going to the back and grabbing her small purse and walking out the doors smiling softly as she saw Bradley in his signature jeans, Hawaiian shirt, and aviators. A small giggle escaped her throat as she saw him freeze at the sight of her. She stepped down the few small steps towards his blue Bronco and raised an eyebrow seeing he was staring at her and not saying a word. “Bradley?” she asked lightly.

Bradley Bradshaw was typically not one to be at a loss of words. Very rarely had that ever happened to him. However, right this moment, he couldn’t form a solid thought or sentence about the woman in front of him. When did she become so beautiful? Why hadn’t he truly noticed this until right now? Sure, he had seen that she had matured since he arrived in town, but this was different. He slowly let his eyes roam over every inch of her body taking in what she looked like. Lily…was radiant. She was full of light and could feel it rolling off of her. She was only wearing a simple sundress, but she looked like a goddess. Why had been such a fucking idiot all those years ago and ruined the bridge they had? Bradley reached forward and took her hand before slowly lifting it up and kissing her knuckles lightly. “You look amazing,” he whispered lightly as he gazed at her.

Lily bit her lip faintly as she looked at the pilot. She suddenly began giggling as he kissed her hand realizing that Bradley was such a hopeless romantic once he let someone past that tough military exterior. “You’re a romantic Brad…admit it,” she teased him lightly and gave a soft squeak as he grabbed her and swung her around. “Bradley! Put me down! Right this minute!” she exclaimed laughing as Bradley tossed her over his shoulder going towards where the water hit the beach. A blush filled her cheeks as Bradley put her down but kept her close to him. “You are such a brat, Bradley Bradshaw,” Lily quipped, pouting slightly at him.

“I learned from the best,” he teased back, jumping away as Lily tried to smack him with her bag. He stuck his tongue out at her as they playfully ran after each other while the sun began setting. He had most definitely missed these moments with Lily.

[derangedthots]

Okay, so first I must apologize if this is too much and I'm exceed, so feel free to do whatever you want with this. I've been having this thoughts all day, what if Jace was at the brick of dead? (I think this is better suit to a modern au)

Jace had been feeling ill, nauseous, massive migraines, and continues nosebleeds. He wasn't a fool, he knew something was going on, but didn't want to worry his family, in truth he didn't think he deserved their care, he was afraid that they would confirm what he already knew, that he was a mistake.

He ended up going to a doctor, just to be told that he was going to die. He was overwhelmed, but mostly because he had a duty with his mother, with his family. Who was going to carry on with their legacy... Once again he had fail.

He tried to spent time with them, not knowing what he should do, but they were busy. Baela and Luke were occupied with Rhaenys and Corlys, while Rhaena was trying to help Rhaenyra with her difficult pregnancy. Meanwhile, Daemon and Joffrey were taking care of Aegon and Viserys.

Jace was alone once again. That was until he reconnected with Helaena, and with her came Aegon, Aemond and Daeron. But he felt the attraction between him and Aemond, it was evident.

All was good, until it wasn't. The tension because of the last months of pregnancy of Nyra, was getting on everyone nerves. This brought a petty fight between Jace and his family about how he was spending time with the enemy.

All ended up with him running away in the middle of the night. But he had worsened with the months, and the cold of the winter night didn't help. It was Aegon who casually found him coughing his lungs out, and who had to carry him to an hospital. That's how his uncles and aunt, who stayed all night, discovered what was going on. They were his safe place during his last days...

I honestly don't know how to continue this, maybe I don't want to kill my baby. I don't know if it would be more angsty if his family discovered about his illness or if he died and the only ones who knew were the greens. Idk, you can do with this what you want, once again I apologize, I just really love your work and only felt safe sharing in this blog💗

i love me some angst ALWAYS but this really had me tearing up. i used to be all abt tragic endings but in recent years i feel like i've become smth of a wimp lmao bc i just want my babies to be happy and safe, i think the blacks finding out abt jace's illness and then losing him after realizing how alone he was would actually break them so i'm gonna choose to believe he somehow got better and everything ended up fine😭😭

and pls don't feel like you need to apologize, I loved reading this (even if it hurt lol) and i'm glad my blog makes you feel safe💗💗

[maximons]

Tricks And Treats

Summary: Pietro tries to get Wanda and Y/n to finally admit their feelings for each other and takes them to a haunted house. Too bad Wanda is a full on scaredy cat...or is that exactly what is needed?

Word Count: 2,915

Genre: Fluff

Requested?: Yes

A/N: Finally back with the Fluff! Here’s that one shot I promised like a week ago lmao Happy Reading!

Halloween was for sure your favorite holiday.

You knew you were in the minority with that thought, seeing most people picked Christmas as their favorite, but you didn’t care. You always loved the time of year that came with Halloween, your birthday fell pretty close to it, you get to dress up and pretend to be someone else for a day, and it’s full on spooky season! What wasn’t there to love?

Well apparently a lot, at least according to your best friend Wanda.

For someone who’s a witch, you find it very funny that she doesn’t like the holiday.

You first met Wanda during the whole Ultron situation, back then she took on a more ‘emo’ appearance. Don’t tell anyone you said this, but you wouldn’t mind if she adopted the look again cause damn, so you just assumed Halloween and all things spooky would be for her, right?

Wrong.

You quickly learned that Wanda was not a fan of scary. You remember asking her to go see this new horror movie with you, it was your first time hanging out alone together and you just figured it’d be something she was into.

By the end of the movie, her face was buried in her knees, and she didn’t believe you when you told her the movie was over. The poor teenager working the theater was pretty annoyed with you both.

Needless to say, you didn’t bother her about anything spooky related again.

So when Pietro came to you two asking if you wanted to go to the new haunted house in town, you were beyond shocked that she agreed without a second thought.

“Uh, Wanda are you sure?” You asked, very hesitant. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a haunted house before, but-”

“I know what they are, Y/n.” Wanda cut you off before you finished, seeming very enthused, which confused you more. “I think it’ll be really cool!”

“Yeah...Wands, I know this group. This isn’t your typical ‘few scary decorations with the occasional light jump scare’ thing. These guys are intense.” You tried again. You didn’t know what had gotten into the witch, but you were sure she was making a mistake here.

“Y/n/n, relax. I’m not a child, I can handle myself. Trust me, okay? It’ll be great!” The bright smile on Wanda’s face was always a sight you welcomed, but it confused you in the moment. Still, you knew once her mind was set on something...let’s just say it’d be easier to find all the infinity stones than to talk her out of it.

“Alright, if you say so.” You shrugged, deciding it was best to drop the topic. Besides, she was right, Wanda’s a grown woman who can make her own choices. You just get to wait to be able to tell her that her choice was a stupid one. “So Friday night?” You asked Pietro, who nodded excitedly.

“Friday night!” He confirmed.

“Okay, cool.” You took another quick sip of your morning coffee before setting your mug down. “I gotta get ready for training. So happy to be working with Steve today instead of Nat, he’s always a walk in the park.” You said sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. “Wish me luck.” 

The twins wished you luck as you left the room to go get ready. After they were sure you were out of earshot, the witch turned to her brother. “This is your plan? Are you crazy?”

“I know, I know, but trust me, okay?” He reassured, walking to the fridge to grab himself a drink. “Y/n loves this stuff, and as she is the love of your life-”

“Whoa, whoa, I-I never said-”

“-You should experience the things that she loves to do.” Pietro finished, ignoring his sister’s intervention. “I’ll do my best to stay out of your guys’ way, and you have the whole evening to yourselves. Sounds perfect to me.”

“Yeah, until I act like a complete, how do they say, ‘spaz’ around her again.” Wanda sighed, leaning on the kitchen counter in defeat.

“You won’t. You know what kind of things to expect now. And if you do freak out, all the more reason to be by her side. She will protect you.”

Wanda looked at her brother in confusion. “I can protect my self.”

Pietro rolled his eyes playfully. “Not what I meant. You will see, sestra.”

Friday night came before you know it, and you, Wanda and Pietro were waiting in the line to buy your tickets to enter.

“Holy shit, this is a long line.” Pietro complained, causing you to chuckle.

“Not surprising. It’s the week before Halloween, weather’s nice, and this group doesn’t come to New York a whole lot. More surprised it isn’t longer actually.” You shrugged.

“Why don’t they come to New York? I thought this was one of America’s more popular states?” Wanda asked.

“It is, but ever since Loki invaded and our merry band of misfits formed, tourism and things like this have been down a whole lot.” You leaned down to get closer to Wanda’s ear. “I guess we’ve been the scary ones all along.” You joked, but Wanda was more focused on trying to calm down and forget the feeling of your breath against her ear.

“Everything alright there, Wanda?” Pietro asked after a moment, teasing smirk on his face. Before Wanda could even fire back, a voice from in front of you spoke up.

“No way! You guys are Avengers!” The group in front of you turned around, one of the guys recognized you instantly.

“Uh, yes...we are.” Wanda awkwardly stated. You knew Wanda hated fan interactions, and to be honest you weren’t a fan of these situations either. They were unpredictable. The Avengers were either beloved or despised, and you’ve been on both ends of the reaction spectrum. Wanda and Pietro, unfortunately, have seen a lot more animosity than you and the others.

Honestly, you couldn’t even fault the ones that didn’t love you guys. You weren’t ignorant and knew your battles have caused a lot of problems for a lot of people. You could sympathize, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be on the receiving end of that anger. Especially not when you were trying to just have a fun night out with your friends. “Look guys, we’re really just here to have a good time. We don’t wanna cause a scene.” You said.

“Nah, nah, it’s cool. I think you guys are awesome!” The guy said, and it was clear to you then that the dude was baked out of his mind. “Especially you, with the red wiggly woos!” He pointed to Wanda as he gave a terrible impression of her hand movements. You smiled, happy to see a fan interaction go well for Wanda.

The joy you felt didn’t last long though, as another guy in the group turned to you, blunt in his hand. “Hey, you’re the fire one right? Can you do me a solid?” He gestured to you, asking you to give him a light. You sighed, the twins chuckling at the situation.

“Yeah, but don’t ask again.” You ignited the tip of your finger, gently placing it on the end of the blunt. The group turned around in line and continued to go about their own conversation. You felt Wanda elbow your side, and you turned to see a smirk on her face. When you heard Pietro’s snicker, you groaned.

“Shut up.”

“Look at you, helping delinquents. Aren’t you supposed to be a superhero? Bringer of justice and all of that?” Wanda teased and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Yeah, but I’m the fun one. It’s just weed.” You said confidently, but the witch saw through it and you dropped the act. “And the last time that happened and I said no, the dude burst into tears.” You said under your breath.

“There it is.” She smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back despite you being the subject of mockery. You loved seeing her smile, you didn��t care about the reason why.

Before you knew it, Pietro announced that you guys were next in line to buy tickets. He bought his and stepped aside so you can go next. “Hi, two please.” Wanda turned to you with her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“Wha- Y/n, I can afford it.” She chuckled nervously, flattered by the action.

“I know, but when I have to drag you out of here cause you’re paralyzed in fear, at least you won’t regret dropping forty bucks on it.” You shrugged as you handed the cashier your credit card.

Wanda’s face reddened, something she quickly tried to hide from her brother who was enjoying this way too much. Her flustered state faded quickly when she processed what you said. “Hey!” You chuckled before thanking the cashier as she returned your card.

“Please go to the table to sign your waivers, entrance is down that hill. Enjoy your night.” The monotone voice told you that the poor woman’s been working all night. You didn’t have time to dwell on that though as you felt a panicked tapping on your arm.

“What’s wrong? We haven’t even entered yet.” You teased.

“W-what did she mean by waivers?” You chuckled at the panicked tone in the witch’s voice.

“Just means if you have a heart attack or something, you can’t sue.” You shrugged nonchalantly, but Wanda took it very seriously and turned to you with even wider eyes.

“That can happen!?”

“Well, it happened at least once if the thought of doing a waiver.” You answered, once again, nonchalantly. You looked at Wanda and could swear you saw her blood run cold. You laughed, which resulted in you receiving a glare. “Relax, Wan, you’ll be fine. You’re an Avenger, you’ve faced off against killer robots, stared death in the face time and time again!” You exclaimed dramatically as you waved your arms. You noticed Wanda start to smile and relax her shoulders. 

“Thanks, Y/n.” She gave you a sweet smile, and you couldn’t help but melt.

“Yeah, anytime.” Your eyes locked with Wanda, you were about to look away but couldn’t. ‘Wow, were her eyes always this green? They’re beautiful.’ You thought.

A blush appeared on the witch’s face as she tore her gaze from you. You were about to ask what happened, but were interrupted. “Let’s go slow pokes!” Pietro’s voice shouted, effectively breaking the moment.

“Yeah, yeah Sonic, we’re coming!” You rolled your eyes as you shouted back. Wanda giggled at the banter between you and her brother, she loved that you two were close. With that, you and her headed down the hill towards the entrance.

After about a half hour, it seemed Wanda was holding up well. The three of you walked out of the corn maze, and she had a triumphant smile on her face. “I thought you said this place was scary.” She teased causing you to roll your eyes playfully.

“Congratulations you survived the corn maze, you get to join the hall of fame with the other twelve year-olds.” As if to emphasize your point, three twelve year-olds ran out of the maze in giggles, clearly unaffected. Wanda pouted. “Aw, don’t worry. I thought you were very brave.” You teased yet again, which resulted in an elbow to the side.

“You’re a jerk.” Wanda held back a smile as she strutted forward. You laughed as you jogged forward to catch up.

“Alright, are you guys ready for the big one?” Pietro asked and your eyes widened.

“Oh, Piet, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You said as you nudged your head towards Wanda, hinting that you didn’t think she could handle that. Unfortunately, she caught on.

“Aw come on, Y/n. I’m not a baby.” 

“I know, but you can’t go from the corn maze to...that.” You gestured towards the haunted maze entrance, a giant purple demon with smoke blowing out of it’s ears looming over. You guys turned at the sound of screams, and saw a group run out of the maze in fear, which then dissolved into laughter.

“They seem to be having fun.” Wanda gestured towards the group.

“Yeah, after the screams of terror.” You shot back. “You can’t go from walking around the block to running a marathon.”

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” Wanda strutted forward towards the entrance, determined to prove you wrong.

You groaned as you looked over to Pietro, who watched the whole ordeal with a cheeky smile. “Your sister’s insane.”

“Yeah, but you love it.” Pietro said under his breath, but you still heard it.

“What?”

“Nothing!” With that, the man sped forward, catching up to his sister at the entrance. You stared after him for a moment in shock before joining them.

The three of you walked the path, and everything seemed to be going well...for all of five seconds. The first jump scare happened behind Wanda. The loud screech startled her, and she jumped with a scream. She stumbled into your arms, and you wrapped them around her in order to keep her from falling. You chuckled, and Wanda looked up at you with the intention to glare. However, when your eyes locked again, Wanda couldn’t help but stare.

You, of course, had to ruin the moment. “Not too late to turn back, y’know. This is just the beginning.” Wanda groaned and pulled away from you, continuing forward. You laughed. “You can hold my hand if you want!” You don’t know what compelled you to say that, but you knew you weren’t entirely joking.

And you didn’t regret it when Wanda reached out and held your hand without another word. You smiled, squeezing her hand.

What you didn’t see was Pietro giving Wanda a thumbs up as you both walked past.

At some point, you guys lost Pietro in the dark maze. Wanda wasn’t even worried as she still held your hand tightly, and you knew the man would be fine and he’ll meet up with you at the exit. 

Wanda had been holding up better than you thought. You wouldn’t say she was good per say, seeing as she screamed and practically jumped into your arms at the slightest sound, but she hadn’t collapsed on the ground in tears yet, so you’d count that as a win.

“Gotta say, Maximoff. I’m impressed.” You said as you two walked down the maze hand in hand.

“I’m just being that super brave Avenger like you said.” Wanda giggled, and you couldn’t help but melt at the noise.

“Well you’re doing an awesome job. Even if the last three guys almost made you pee your pants.” You laughed loudly as you took in the shocked reaction the woman gave you.

“Y/n!” She scolded, but before you could even respond, the worst jump scare yet occurred. 

A large animatronic growled and lowered from the ceiling right behind Wanda. The witch turned to look briefly as she screamed loudly and jumped to you again. This time, however she literally jumped into your arms. You quickly braced your hands under her thighs, catching her, as she wrapped her legs around your waist. The force from the jump caused you to stumble back into a darker corner of the maze. Your back hit a hay wall, and you and Wanda laughed at the moment. Your laughter continued for a moment, and Wanda lifted her head from your shoulder to look into your eyes. Both of you got quiet as you continued to stare, sensing the moment shift.

“You okay?” You whispered, almost as if talking to loudly would shatter the moment. Wanda nodded, eyes still locked onto yours. After a moment of silence, she spoke up.

“Y’know...I think a distraction would help.” Your eyebrows shot up at the insinuation. You doubted you heard her correctly, but when you saw her eyes shift down to your lips, you knew what she wanted. And you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t want it too.

“I...Yeah, I think I could help with that.” You barely got your sentence out when Wanda smashed her lips to yours roughly. You tightened your hold on her thighs as she wrapped her arms around your neck. You stood there, making out roughly against the wall of the maze. As wild and sudden as this was, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

Pietro noticed you two were gone for a really long time. He was beginning to get concerned, and pulled out his phone ready to call one of you. Turns out he didn’t need to. 

You two came out of the maze, only you weren’t alone. You and Wanda each had a security guard holding your arm. After you two were out of the maze completely, they let you go and walked off. It was then that Pietro noticed both of your disheveled states. And he could swear he saw two or three hickeys forming on your neck.

“No you didn’t-” He started, but you cut him off.

“Not a word.” Your hand found it’s way to Wanda’s as you guys walked towards the exit of the park, figuring it’d be bad Avengers press if you guys stayed any longer at this point. You had an awesome night anyway, and didn’t care if it ended a little early. Besides, you had a feeling you’d get to have some more...fun when you got back to the compound.

You didn’t notice Pietro high five Wanda’s free hand.

[tarosin]

The great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo and ranboo - the best mcc team

this is an extra to the great adventures series

the moment you found out ranboo got into mcc you instantly ran into the room you were sharing pulling him into a hug you were honestly so proud of him and he was going to be with tubbo

“BOO I'M SO PROUD OF YOU YOU'RE GOING TO DO AMAZING”

unfortunately, you weren’t going to be in mcc this month but that didn’t stop you from being over the moon for your friend. when it was finally time for mcc you wished your friend good luck and apologised for not being able to watch his pov as you weren’t about to break the tradition of watching Tommy after all he was your first and biggest supporter. 3 hours later the event ended and everyone who was watching ranboos pov heard you faintly screaming at Tommy over discord whilst tubbo sat laughing and ranboo was concerned, he heard from Tommy that you would often yell at him however he didn’t believe that he was being honest

“FUCK YOU TOMMY STOP LAUGHING YOU HIT ME IN TO GET TO THE OTHER SIDE ON PURPOSE THEN LAUGHED ABOUT ME NOT BEING IN…..fine when I get in I’m requesting to be on Scott's team…I’m still mad at you but you did great I'm so proud of you congrats Tommy I’ll see you soon goodbye”

at the start of the next month, you received a message from Scott

Scott: so I have a few things to tell you 1 - how would you feel about becoming head twitch mod it’s only fair you’ve been my mod for a while and 2 - welcome to mcc make sure to fill in the form asap!

y/n: 1 - of course I’d love to be head twitch mod and 2 - heh??

not long later you received a form at the same time as your friends, you decided not to tell anyone and somehow you managed to keep it a secret, Scott agreed to lie to the others about whos team they’re on as he knew how excited everyone was going to be. today was the day your big secret would be released, you Tommy tubbo and ranboo were sat outside when the notification went out announcing the team honestly you’ll never forget the look on their faces when they realised

MCChampionship_ tweeted: 👑announcing team green guardians 👑

@tommyinnit @tubbolive @ranboosaysstuff @y/n

Watch them in MCC on Saturday, August 28th at 8 pm BST!

“Y/N WHAT THE FUCK”

“congrats y/n”

ranboo didn’t say anything he just tackled you into a hug like you did last month when you found he was in mcc. Tommy and tubbo were still processing what they just read

“Scott fucking lied to me”

“aye I told him to”

“what the fuck”

from then the four of you would constantly stream with each other on the mcc training server, you were a strong team when you weren’t yelling at each other.

time flew by soon enough it was the 28th of August. Tommy genuinely couldn’t believe it his best friend was in mcc and on a team with him and he genuinely believed you all had a decent chance in winning as you were a strong team. Tommy invited you over to stream mcc he claimed it was because there would be three people trying to stream in the same room, in reality, it was because he wanted to see your reaction and be there for your first mcc.

Tommy let you stream from his room he had spent the previous night getting advice from tubbo on how he managed to set up so he could stream with ranboo in the same room.

“you ready y/n”

“of course I’ve been watching and learning from the best”

you and Tommy set up and joined the discord call and the mcc server, it was finally time. similarly to ranboo this was something you had wanted to do since Tommy told you all about it on your way home from school one day. 30 minutes later it was time for the games to begin and this is where the chaos began.

“you know what I hope it’s build mart”

“what the fuck y/n”

“fuck you I’m good at build mart- oh you’re joking it’s fucking parkour tag”

this is when you realised that two screaming teenagers in the same room both trying to stream the event wasn’t the best idea, you and Tommy would constantly scream at poor ranboo who was just trying to hunt the other team

“RANBOO CATCH THEM”

“really y/n?! I thought I’d let them win this round”

unsurprisingly your team was doing great you had won 7/8 rounds but there was still one more round, determined to be the one to get dream you decided to be the hunter

“y/n don’t worry if you can’t get them we’re doing well”

“Y/N IGNORE RANBOO ME AND TOMMY DON'T WANT TO LOSE”

“not putting pressure on me at all thank you boys”

being close friends with technoblade gave you an advantage you didn’t expect due to the fact he helped to “train” you for your first mcc which ended up being the reason you were able to catch them all and then helped the others avoid being caught

“tubbo he's to your left TUBBO I SAID HES TO YOUR LEFT WHY ARE YOU GOING LEFT TOMMY RUN RUN RUN RUN ranboo you’re doing great”

“NO WAY”

you had just successfully won the round against dream sapnap George and quackity and you would never let dream live this down

“do you guys think dream will let me be in one of his manhunts now”

“no”

“fuck you tubbo you’re just mad you couldn’t catch all the runners in yellow yaks. you couldn’t catch jack manifold”

so far everything was going well you were currently in 4th place and your team had high hopes. you all felt the need to confirm to your chats that you’re all not actually mad at each other and not to worry about everything.

the next game was survival games ranboo wasn’t ready for this due to the last mcc where he died pretty early on, it started well you all stuck together as a team until the game was nearly over and you got distracted by a chest and ran away from the others whilst they were fighting another team this ended up being a happy accident in disguise you got the notification that Tommy tubbo and ranboo were killed fighting another team

“oh fuck”

“WE COULD HAVE WON WAIT Y/N DID YOU DIE”

“no”

tubbo could practically hear your smile as you explained to them that you ran off and was currently under a tree watching the others fight, you used the fact they died in the game to your advantage they would tell you if anyone was coming to attack you whilst you ran around collecting loot avoiding the others shooting arrows

“AYO STOP FUCKING SHOOTING ME ITS MY FIRST MCC LET ME WIN”

“Y/N HAVE YOU GOT LAVA”

“I DO AAAAAA PISS OFF LET ME WIN”

“USE THE LAVA YOU CAN EASILY TAKE OUT HALF OF THE REMAINING PLAYERS”

to everyone’s surprise, it worked due to the border being smaller so there was less room to run soon it was you vs punz at this point you were determined to win

“GO Y/N GO GO GO HIT HIM YOU CAN DO IT”

“you’re doing so well y/n”

some may call it beginners luck but you ended up winning the fight against punz

“LETS FUCKING GO Y/N”

“I DID IT OH MY GOD”

the next game was hole in the wall and long story short you sucked, ranboo on the other hand did not. it didn’t take long for you to fall every single round. this helped the others though as you were able to yell which side the wall was coming from

“fuck this stupid game the wall hates me”

“y/n you're supposed to jump through the gaps“

“you know what no I’m going to get on a sapnap alt stream by glitching through”

this didn’t work you died again

“well fuck there I go I guess you’ve got this though guys Tommy you’re doing decent”

“I'm doing great thank you- oh I died FUCK YOU FOR DISTRACTING ME”

“blah blah blah GO TUBBO AND RANBOO”

you couldn’t believe it ranboo was one of the final people remaining, unfortunately, ranboo jumped too late resulting in him falling but nonetheless you were proud of him

“unlucky boo you all did great”

the next game was battle box the four of you had been practising this a lot so there was a lot of pressure to do well especially since you were now in the top 3 on the leaderboard, the strategies you made from practicing paid off you managed to win the majority of the rounds, however, there was a lot of screaming and arguing during the last round

“RANBOO STOP STEALING MY KILLS OR I'M GOING TO START HITTING YOU WITH A SWORD”

“he’s been stealing mine too y/n”

tubbo was honestly playing well during this game and you were amazed

unfortunately, the arguing resulted in you losing the round as you were all focusing on arguing which meant you missed the other team rushing to wool

“unlucky boys”

“7 wins out of 9 rounds honestly isn’t that bad we should still be third we just need to stay strong with the rest of the games”

during the break before the last four games, the four of you sat making plans for the next few round

“I want to get to the other side last I think that will be our strength”

there was still a rather long break left so you did what anyone else would do run around the server and yell this was a huge mistake as it messed with the soundproofing resulting in tommys mic picking you up and vice versa

“so I guess we’re streaming like this now”

“FIX IT”

“well since you asked so nicely tubso…no”

tubbo ended up doing the same to the soundproofing in the room he was in with ranboo were in meaning all four of you were now having a scuffed stream as you ran out of time to fix it because before you knew it, it was time to play sky battle

“right we should go left”

“tubbo will get iron Tommy will make the bridge and y/n will do…something”

you did the same thing techno did in the pride mcc and hid occasionally breaking blocks from underneath people so they would fall the others were doing well the game was a mixture of you all encouraging each other and you all cursing each other out whilst ranboo ignored you all and spoke to his chat

“chat I know you can hear double everyone if I could fix it I would but tubbo y/n and Tommy are being too stubborn to fix everything and we don’t have time”

“Y/N WHERE ARE YOU”

“making people fall to their death can we talk about our feelings now because this is stressful as hell”

“NOT THE TIME”

you all did decently you weren’t amazing at this game but that was expected it was something you all weren’t the biggest fan of but somehow you were all still in third place and that was something you weren’t expecting especially for your first mcc

it was now time for sands of time you all needed to do well

“bruh I wanted build mart what the fuck is this”

“we’re not going to win this game boys”

and tubbo would be corrected that that statement, you ended up having a visual glitch making it difficult, Tommy would constantly get trapped in a dungeon like last time things weren’t loading for ranboo you had no idea what tubbo was doing and quite frankly you didn’t want to find out unless it was going to be good news and considering all you could hear was tubbo yelling anything that came to mind you could guess it wasn’t going well. you tried to rage quit a couple of times only to be yelled at by the others every time you disconnected from the server

“Y/N STOP LEAVING”

“I CAN'T SEE SHIT”

“you’re doing well y/n stay calm we’re going to be fine”

“OH I CAN'T PLAY THIS GAME I'M DYSLEXIC”

“CLEARLY WE'RE NOT FINE TUBBO IS STRUGGLING TOMMY IS LOCKED IN A DUNGEON AND I CAN'T SEE SHIT...HAVE YOU GOT THE LETTER N YET”

“no, they’re spawning one in for me”

“could them maybe I don’t know speed up the process”

yeah you ended up losing that game and got knocked down the 4th good news is it was only by a couple hundred points

next up was ace race

“do yous reckon Scott's tested this map”

“aren’t you his head twitch mod”

“you’re right I'll message him and find out”

luckily you all managed to do pretty well, Tommy was off to a great start you tubbo and ranboo weren’t far behind you all agreed to follow each other rather than the crowd which paid off as when everyone else went the wrong way rather than following you all managed to go the right way thanks to ranboo yelling he thinks that he knows where to go and thankfully he was correct which put Tommy first tubbo second ranboo third and you fourth, you all ended up lapping people on your final lap and honestly, none of you guessed this would happen but you weren’t exactly complaining. a few moments later you all crossed the finishing line and were the first team to finish giving you the bonus points you needed to push you to second place

“did you know since I first got into mcc I would put y/ns name down for who I wanted to play with”

“TOMMY OH MY GODDDD”

a few seconds later you showed up on Tommy's face cam as you ran over to him giving him a hug

“you’re doing great y/n we might get into dodgebolt”

“dude we’re winning this shit”

soon enough it was time for the last game (unless you got into dodgebolt) and luckily it was to get to the other side

“we've got this we have actually got this we’re going to get to dodgebolt”

you stuck with Tommy for almost every round mainly because speed bridging wasn’t for you. you were all doing great you were the first team to finish for multiple rounds however you were also the last team to finish for a few rounds

“boys I'm not sure if we’ll get through”

“We all had fun”

“if we get into dodgebolt we’re going to be against dream”

“WILL YOU ALL FUCKING FOCUS”

“no- OW TOMMY HIT ME WITH A PEN”

“IT WAS THE CLOSEST THING WOULD YOU RATHER I CHUCK MY COMPUTER MOUSE”

“will you two quit fighting we’re about to find out the final scores.”

3..2..1

“oh my god”

“what the fuck”

“ranboo and y/n are about to play dodgebolt”

“LETS GO WHAT THE FUCK”

you all did it you successfully kept 2nd place somehow now all you had to do was win dodgebolt against dream George sapnap and quackity. safe to say you and ranboo were nervous as fuck and rightfully so as you all lost the first game

“let’s be serious we need to focus now”

you all won the next round

“LETS FUCKING GO WE'VE GOT THIS”

it was now the third round Tommy and tubbo were now out it was you and ranboo against dream and sapnap

“bruh were fucked ranboo”

ranboo took aim and somehow hit sapnap whilst you took a moment to type a message in chat

y/n: it’s my first mcc how do you feel knowing you’re about to lose

it was now your turn to take aim and Tommy yelling in the background wasn’t helping you and the yelling made you shoot before you were ready luckily ranboo picked up an arrow and was able to hit dream, it was now 1 vs 2 if you won this round you would all be the champions and that’s exactly what happened you all quit yelling at each other hell you muted the discord call so you could focus all you could hear was Tommy next to you occasionally supporting you

“come on y/n final round. you’re about to win your first mcc I’m so proud of you”

“you’re doing amazing Tommy thank you for everything now let’s win this thing”

and just like that, it was over Tommy took the final shot and hit sapnap

you all unmuted the four of you yelling

“TOMMY TUBBO RANBOO I'M SO PROUD OF YOU GUYS”

“WE DID IT WE FUCKING DID IT”

“OH MY GOD”

“WELL DONE EVERYONE”

this time Tommy ran over to you pulling you into a hug he was genuinely so proud of you and the others

“you did it y/n you won your first mcc that’s amazing”

“I couldn’t have done it without you or the others I love you all”

after talking to the other teams and ending stream

you and Tommy stayed on call with tubbo and ranboo

“you two need to make your way back here”

“me and y/n could probably catch a train if we’re very quick”

you nodded and quickly grabbed everything you needed thankfully your good luck hadn’t come to an end yet as you and Tommy were able to catch one of the last trains, Tommy had an arm around you as he noticed you were getting tired after all you did just go through the stress of your first mcc to over 170k viewers you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder a few hours passed and you were at the last stop Tommy lightly tapped your shoulder

“hey y/n were here tubbo and ranboo are waiting for us over there…let’s go celebrate this win shall we”

an: do not publish my work :)

taglist:

@emma0nline @fuzzycloudsz @wtfwriter @bearytime @milkydisaster @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee

[goldenkhae]

Beautiful Boy.

A/N: Hey Guys!!! As you can probably tell, this piece is named after and is gonna be based on the song “Beautiful Boy” by John Lennon. So feel free to listen to this lovely song when you read this. I am obsessed with that song and once saw an edit on tiktok of Harry’s Vogue shoots that played this song and multiple clips of Harry on the set of the shoot. So without further ado, I will get started. Love you all! I really, really hope you enjoy this <333.

Pairing: DWD Harry X Reader

Warning: few curse words, angst, bit of smut, fluff lot’s and lots of fluff.

You had pushed for maybe three hours. No just kidding, try thirty four. You were beyond sweaty and exhausted. Harry was the forever doting and supportive husband as you had expected.

For instance he had re-applied your cherry flavored Carmex and knotted your hair into a makeshift messy bun with your favorite lavender scrunchie maybe a hundred times in the past hour. You had tried everything to get yourself to this exact moment and now that you were actually here and living in it, you felt ungrateful. All you could do was moan in pain and beg Harry for an In ‘N Out burger every five seconds. 

“Harry, Harry babe... it feels like I’ve gotta poop. I don’t wanna poop right here in front of the wonderful nurses and doctor” You moaned out in a disgruntled manner.

You watch Harry chuckle a little then reply, “Lovie, that’s completely normal to have that urge, but it’s very unlikely it’ll actually happen... right?”

He looks to their nurses in reassurance because he honestly didn’t know if it was possible. Believe me, he had read enough parenting books for the both of you because Harry was a huge worry-wart which was adorable to you. 

“Yes, yes it is very unlikely Mrs. and Mr. Styles.” One of the nurses wearing mauve pink colored scrubs says while giving you a comforting pat on your leg that was already placed on the stirrups.

Everyone in your private suite that Harry had bought out for the sacred privacy of you and bubs following their arrival, was so kind and attentive to you and Harry on this journey of birthing your very first child. 

“Actually Lovie, while I was reading one of the books our mums gave us at our baby shower, it said that the “pooping sensation” you feel means bubs is close.” Harry looks at you thoughtfully while caressing your faintly red cheeks and helps to move the escaping tendrils of hair from your eyes.

You suddenly get excited and grab Harry’s hands, trying to gear up any excess strength to push again. “I wanna start pushing again, if that’s alright.” You look at the nurses for confirmation and they nod, so you turn to Harry. “You ready to meet bubs babe?” You were fairly confident that this last set of pushing would do it. Harry leans in close to you, nudges the tip of both your noses together and finally leans in to kiss you. 

As you kiss Harry, you feel like the first day you both met and every other moment in-between. It feels like no one else is there, no one else matters. You are taken back to the moment when you created your baby, the night bubs was conceived.

Harry and you had just gotten back from the set of DWD. Harry was exhausted from re-filming the same clip over and over today. He had brought you on set with him because he didn’t want to spend too much time away from you during the day and he knows shooting for the movie can get really hectic.

As you guys walked into your home in LA, you hastily made it to the stairs and got to your shared bathroom before him. You concocted the most relaxing and luxurious bubble bath you could think of complete with the environmentally safe bath bombs Harry had brought from his favorite vegan shop earlier this week. 

“Harry! Come upstairs for me darling!” You called out for Harry knowing he’s probably not far in your spacious home. Not even a minute later you heard Harry’s sock-clad feet coming in your direction. Harry walks in the bathroom in only his boxers and socks and immediately his green orbs light up with awe. You had done something so simple, yet so loving. This is why Harry had knew from the day you met, that you were his wife. His soulmate. His twin flame. His forever. 

“Lovie, you didn’t have to do this.” He says with some guilt knowing that you’re pampering him even though you had to sit on set watching him play husband to Florence all day.

You both loved Florence more than anything and you and her had really hit it off, becoming besties after mere minutes of meeting one another.

He still felt a little bad that he was being pampered so he immediately opened up about it. “Y/N, I honestly feel bad that you’re doing this for me after you had to sit idly on set today and watch me.”

Harry says with a pout making him look insanely adorable. You grab his dimpled cheeks and just admire him for a good moment, then you say, “Darling, stop it. You work so hard every day to make me the happiest woman in the world. I got to sit with you today and watch you do one of the things you love and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. Remember we’re forever?”

Harry almost could cry, you knew him better than anyone now. Probably even better than his mum, which scared him shitless. “Yeah Lovie, we’re forever.” You grab Harry’s hand littered with his miscellaneous, unique rings and pull him over to your fancy tub.

You both undress, he gets in first and you of course follow him in right after. You sit on his lap, facing him and slowly start to kiss his neck. Leaving open-mouth kisses along his jawline, all the way down to his sternum, you then reach down and grab his already erect cock. You start to tug at it very tenaciously and rub your hands through his freshly cut chocolate locks. Harry began to react, he was breathing heavily and had his hand firmly placed on your ass. “Dove... go on... please put me inside of you.” You jumped at his soft demand and shifted upwards so he could slide inside easier. You both sighed in euphoria when he entered you and the rest was history. 

When you parted from the kiss, Harry analyzed the adoring look on your face, “What’s on your mind baby?” You shed a few tears and then you shrug it off and say, “Let’s just hurry and meet our little rascal, okay?”

Harry smiled lovingly at you and nodded at your team of nurses and your doctor that you guys were ready. You started to push more and more, harder and harder. You were on your fourth push when you felt a pop sensation and it worried you a little so you grabbed at Harry’s hand even tighter to get his attention. Harry was so absorbed with looking between the middle of your legs and also being by your side, kissing on you and giving you encouraging words. 

“Harry, Harry what’s going on down there? What do you see?” You anxiously question Harry while your heart is racing so fast you thought it would explode. “Dove, it’s good! I can see our bubby’s head. He has a head full of hair too babe! I know how worried you were about that.”

You smiled in relief and let your head fall back on the cushioned hospital bed while bearing down once more and giving this last push all you had. You were right, you felt a big gush of liquids and pressure down there and heard a bunch of shouting from Harry.

Then he was placed on your chest and the entire world stopped. You gazed down at your creation. You and Harry’s love bundled in a periwinkle blue baby blanket.

He had gooey stuff and blood crusted into his beautiful chocolate curls, yet he looked like your universe. It wasn’t until you felt Harry kissing your forehead that everything started to sink in. You just pushed this five pound gorgeous creature from your vagina and yet you felt no pain. Harry started to cry and you felt the droplets in your hair. You looked up at Harry with tears in your big brown eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Thank you Lovie. Thank you for completing my life, Y/N. I owe you two everything and I will give you everything.” Harry gushed in awe and pure happiness. “He’s beautiful, my beautiful, beautiful, boy.” You looked down at Levi Aristotle Styles and couldn’t hold a single thought in your head. You looked at Harry and placed your glistening foreheads together. This, this was forever. 

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy and if you do, please like and reblog! Love you all and I hope you love my baby that I am giving you. If this goes well, I’ll post more writing! 

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Lost in the Façade

Double post tonight and back on track.

Warnings: Death ; Suicidal attempt and ideation ; Unrequited[?] Love

Words: 3.8k

Getting caught up in the affairs of the gods wasn’t something you were ever hoping to do.

You remember being absolutely terrified when you saw the wooden pillar and a familiar blond sitting at the top. Remember cursing Tubbo once more at the exile of his best friend. Remembered how much you had thought it would be a mistake. Remembered trying your hardest to not make this possibility a reality.

It hadn't been easy to sneak around Dream's back to visit your little brother. It hadn't been any easier to convince Tommy to let you do so either. He was still upset at you, but you could never be mad at him for it. He was right. Siblings don't keep things from each other.

That's why, after knowing what Dream would do to him, it hurt more that he wouldn't tell you.

Dream was standing a bit to the side, laughing, despite the forlorn look on Tommy's face. The urge to kill him again flared in your stomach and you pushed it down. Tommy needed you more than you needed the green man's death.

You nearly flew to the two, hardly feeling your feet touch the ground when your heart was beating as hard as it was.

"Tommy? Tommy, what are you doing up there?" You barely heard his sigh, but he shrugged in response and you spun on Dream. The cool night air bit your cheeks, but your blood was colder. "What is he doing? Why are you just laughing?"

Dream crossed his arms in front of himself. "Oh please, [y/n]. You don't actually think he's gonna jump, do you? He's on one life left. He wouldn't."

You didn't hold the same optimism Dream did. You turned back to your brother, sitting atop the tower before you.

"Tommy? Tommy, please come down. You're scaring me!"

"What's the point, [y/n]?"

"The point is you need to be safe. It’s going to be okay, Tommy. I promise, just come down and-”

“You’re right, it is going to be okay.” He had always wondered what it was like to have wings. He remembered some things of previous lives when he had them, but he never remembered flying. Was this how it felt? The breeze brushing it’s icy fingers through his hair, trying to coax him to fall. Was this how you felt every time you were about to die?

“Tommy!” He looked back down at you, scooting closer to the edge. You looked so small. He felt smaller. It was so hard to focus with all of the thoughts drifting through his mind. No one had come to his party, his interaction with Drista was… lackluster at best. No one cared. He wasn’t in a position of power anymore, who could blame them. You, Ghostbur, and Dream probably only cared out of obligation. He could feel the mist from the sea on his face.

“Tommy, all of us," you shot a glare at Dream, but the man stood there, unphased, "most of us love you, Tommy. We'd be heartbroken if you were gone."

"Then why has no one else visited?" Your heart felt heavy in your chest and your words died on your lips. You didn’t have an answer for the blond. You could only look up at him with eyes that slowly became more glassy the longer he sat up there.

There were flashes in his mind. Ones of him finding Tubbo in another life. The time when he was a vigilante and they had lived together, the other continuously throwing him out of windows. The one where they had become fast friends during an apocalypse. The life where they had raced together and he had fallen down a cliff side.

Tubbo wasn't here for him this time.

The feeling of the breeze brushing through his hair made his back ache, longing for the lives where he had wings. He wondered if dying this time would be like when he and Wilbur were princes. He had awoken in an orchard that was so bright, so warm, he almost longed for the battlefield again. He couldn't remember the name of it now. Blue something? He remembered the morning glories that decorated it and the apple trees that littered the orchard he had awoken in. He remembered how sweet the fruits had been. Like gapples, but with the faint taste of honey. A small part of him hoped he would return there and wait for Phil once more until the next lifetime.

Another gust of wind blew past him and Tommy was shaken from his thoughts, only to hear the two conflicting voices below him.

"I know you just want attention, give it up, Tommy. This is why you don’t scheme."

"Tommy, please come down. It's not worth it. Do not listen to Dream!"

"C'mon, just jump. I know you won't."

"You're worth more than just jumping, Tommy."

"You wanted me here, Tommy. I'm your only friend now."

"You are not his friend, Dream. You're manipulating him."

"I am just telling him what he needs to hear."

Tommy's breath hitched when you shoved the masked man before you. You didn't pvp. What were you doing?

"You are trying to use him. He is not a pawn you can just play with, Dream!"

"Oh, as if you are any better." Tommy watched Dream shove you back. "None of us know who you are, [y/n]. How do we know you're not just a pawn being used yourself against all of us? How do we know you're our friend? We all remember each other. You're a new player in a game where you don't belong."

He stood above you now, porcelain mask lifeless as he started to summon his own sword. "Let's see how many lives you actually have."

Tommy noted how scared you looked, staring back at Dream, but was shocked when you just looked up at him. "Tommy, please. You need to get down. And you need to run."

Dream's sword was in hand. "Tommy, you need to find somewhere safe. Anywhere safe. Please."

An uncomfortable feeling bubbled in his chest at your words. Like you knew what would happen next. Like you knew better and were telling him the future. How could you know when you wouldn’t tell him anything?

"Tommy, you need to be safe. It's going to be okay."

The sun rose and when the light hit you, casting you in a golden glow, he believed you.

Even as Dream ran you through with his sword, he believed you. His chest flickered with long gone pain as he watched the metal disappear into your heart.

So he jumped, water bucket ready.

He landed feet away and began running as fast as he could through the underbrush. His brain was just screaming at him to go back for you. But he knew you wouldn't be there. You'd wake up in your bed here in a few seconds like every other time they had watched you die, and Dream would have him again.

He needed to find Technoblade.

When you returned to where Logstedshire once stood, you relaxed when you saw Dream still there and Tommy gone. Water pooled next to the pole and you knew he had listened to you. The man turned back onto you and you glared back. “You’ve made your last mistake, Dream.”

He didn’t pursue you when you turned back to L’Manburg.

Gods didn’t need to hunt for anything more than fun or revenge.

"He's done it again, Phil!" You nearly screeched through clenched teeth as you slammed the heavy door that led into the angel of death’s house. The immortal barely spared you a glance and continued writing in a small leather bound journal on his desk. Each stroke of the small quill made another perfectly crafted letter, absorbing his interest.

"Take a seat, mate." Phil's voice was bewitching and you immediately perched on one of the warm seats near the fire, sucking in a quivering breath. You took a moment to glance around the familiar home to maybe calm yourself, your sudden need of keeping your composure an agonizing task.

Phil was there when you had awoken on the floor of his home after speaking with Kristin, brimming with knowledge you shouldn’t have known. The man had been alive the longest. Not quite dying, always just flitting between lifetimes on the black wings of his. He had confirmed everything when you had spoken to him about your new memories, comforting you in that special way only a dad could.

Now, as you sat in the comfortable armchair, you could see evidence of every timeline he had lived through and could pinpoint each one. A green plastic bottle, a pair of fuzzy dice, a painting of an unknown woman. She didn’t look like Kristin. There were large wooden bookcases that climbed up the walls filled with great quantities of journals. How many stories did he have to tell? The fire glowing in the hearth set off a gentle glow accompanied by a warmth that made the home all the more pleasing to be in. A small carved board held a thin, dipped stick that burned on the end, causing a delightful scent of vanilla to waft around the room. You sunk into the soft piece of furniture, forcing yourself to relax just a little.

Phil watched you from the corner of his eye. He had seen you stalk across the snowy field and to his front door. You didn’t look happy, but he didn’t expect you to be. There was plenty happening on the server at all times between the same members that were at the heart of it time and time again.

He finished his thought, setting the quill aside and recapping his ink. He’d have to go collect more soon, he was running low. Leaving the page to dry, he walked to the kitchen. His wings rustled gently as they brushed past various objects. You watched him, crossing your arms. “Phil?”

“Yes, mate?” His voice was warm and just as sweet as the vanilla in the air. Fatherly.

“Does it…” You pressed your lips together, trying to properly word the sentence. “Does me being around bother you?”

Phil’s hands paused as he went to feed the furnace to warm a kettle of water. “Why would you ask something like that?”

You shrugged, leaning further into the chair. You weren’t sure if you were trying to hide from your own thoughts or if you were trying to hide from him. “Dream just-”

“Now why would you listen to him? Do you honestly care what he thinks?” You wet your lips, thinking about it.

“Kinda? I care what everyone here thinks.” There was a soft shifting as you heard Phil lean back against the counter. “Some more than others. But I do care.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Keeps you in check from doing somethin’ really wrong.” You hummed in response. “What did he say?”

“He said I don’t belong here.” You heard a scoff.

“Well, we both know that that’s not true.” You thought of Tommy up on the final remains of the territory he had been so proud of. Had he actually gotten away? You thought of Techno, now exiled in the tundra far away from where you sat now. What would he think of your choices? You thought of Wilbur -now Ghostbur- and how, despite you yelling at him being the last thing he heard, he still somehow seemed to love you. Why did he still try so hard when all you seemed to do was help with the aftermath?

A hot mug was pressed into your hands and you looked up at the only one who knew your secret.

“It’s chamomile tea. It’ll help.” You nodded at him, sipping carefully at the beverage. “Tell me everything that happened.”

So you recounted everything that had happened that night until your entrance bright and early in the blond man’s house, including your threat.

“DreamXD’s probably not going to like that you threatened Dream.”

You could only shrug.

“What does it matter? It’s not like killing me will do anything.”

“He’s a god, [y/n]. They have their ways.” You sighed. They were definitely fickle folk. Kristin had been kind enough when you saw her, despite the near-constant migraine you were trying to slowly adapt to, and your few meetings with Drista hadn’t been horrible. But you had never crossed paths with the powerful creation god. If he were anything like Dream himself, you would hate what your first encounter would be like.

“When Drista killed me, it was the same as usual, so I’m not worried. I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs of Tommy’s spiral.”

“When she killed you?” You nodded once more. He didn’t ask anymore questions, and you didn’t supply him with any more answers.

You didn’t fear other gods after your experiences with the first two you had already been bad. They were not bad enough to deter you.

You had first met Drista when she and Tommy were finishing building the Intimidation Tower. It was an ugly thing, made out of cobblestone, and you knew that Wilbur hated that it gave away the location of the ravine, but it made Tommy happy. It made Drista happy. So you convinced Wilbur to just let it be. It made it easier for Tommy to come home when he was lost, anyways.

She had come around a lot more after that. Always attached at the hip to Tommy, always displaying godlike power, always causing mischief. She was decently polite to you, despite being younger than Tommy with a snarky attitude. But they were a good pair to watch. She always seemed to have fun with the blond, especially when he messed up. And despite how upset he seemed to be in the moment, he was always cheerful when he told you about the things he had done with her as you attached plasters to his cuts and salve to his bruises.

So why did you find her atop the intimidation tower without him?

You climbed your way up, sitting down next to her. “Hey.”

She turned her head to look at you, the familiar mask hiding her expression. “What do you want?”

“Kinda wanna know what you’re doing up here by yourself. Tommy’s asleep right now.” You watched her pull a leg up onto the ledge and hug it.

“I’m just thinking. It’s different being around you all than my brothers.”

“Brothers?” She only nodded her head. “I know about Dream, who else is your brother?”

There was a slight shake in her hand as she moved her hair back. “You’ve already met him. It’s DreamXD.”

You snickered. “DreamXD is your brother?”

“Well, yeah, why else do you think I have access to creative mode?” You hummed, looking back out at the rest of the world and away from her. You hadn’t really questioned it. You didn’t really question a lot of things about the semantics of this world. None of it ever made sense.

“Then what happened to Dream?”

“Oh, he was made, not born.” You nodded.

There was a beat, then two. It sunk in.

“Excuse me?” You heard a laugh ring from her lips.

“Why do you think we call him “Clay” sometimes? Why he doesn’t have powers? Why he shifts from life to life like the rest of them?” You took silent notice of the way she said “them” and not “you”. “He’s a creation with just as much of a soul as the rest of the players.”

You chewed on the thought. Did that make her a god as well? You didn’t ask.

“Then what were you thinking about?”

“How fragile you all are.” Your breath caught as you suddenly felt the air rush around you. You couldn’t even scream before you hit the ground, hard. The pain only lasted a moment before a yelp was heard under you and you scrambled off the bed.

Tommy was looking at you with large eyes and you muttered a small “sorry”.

He didn’t even nod at you, just shifted further back against the wall. You could never chastise someone just looking for comfort. “Y’know, it’s a little inconvenient to have you take up my whole bed while I’m out, Toms.”

“What the hell, [y/n]? I didn’t even hear you come in!”

“What were you doing in my bed? I thought I saw you lay down in your own.” You took in the dark bags under his eyes and his messy hair. He didn’t answer you, just looked away with a type of melancholy you knew you’d never hope to match. “The nightmares again, huh?”

He huffed at you, lips turning down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was such an inconvenience.” He shook his head, moving to crawl out. “This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have-”

You moved to block him, sitting on the edge of the shoddily crafted mattress as you grabbed him and pulled him back. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.” You pushed him down gently and laid next to him with an arm across his shoulders. He squirmed in your grasp. “Tommy, stop. Talk to me.”

The blond hesitated before rolling onto his side to look at you. He looked so very young in the dim torchlight. Why did he seem to have to grow up so fast in every timeline? You moved your arm to run your fingers through his hair and he relaxed under the touch.

“Are we doing the right thing? It feels like we’re on some continuous loop and I can’t even tell if I’m just doing this because we’re the good guys or because I’m the little brother and I have to listen.” You hummed, scratching his scalp gently. “I always feel left out of the loop. And whenever I’m let in, I never have a choice on whatever it is. For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something, yeah? Why does everyone keep treating me as if I were a child? And when they aren’t treating me like one, they’re acting like I have all the answers.”

You watched his lips tremble and he scoot closer to press his face to your chest and you held him there. “Why can’t they make up their minds? I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t-” His words broke as he held onto your shirt, pressing his face closer into you. “I don’t-”

You slid your other arm under his head, holding him to you tightly. If you could save him from his own fate, you would have. You two may have not been bound by blood, but he was just as much your brother as he was Wilbur and Techno’s. You would die for him. You would kill for him. You’d do just about anything he asked. You’d protect him from anything.

The gods would have to wipe your existence from everything to get to the ones you loved.

Dream stood next to his brother, floating silently with identical masks. You weren’t afraid of them, but your lip trembled despite your resolve. DreamXD cocked his head at you, as if he himself hadn’t been the one to leave you next to that river and wasn’t aware of your existence. You grit your teeth silently.

“XD.” You greeted. The god’s head corrected before he reached up to remove his mask. An “x” scar crossed his face where his eyes should have been and he grinned at you. He recovered his face once more before blipping out of sight. There would be no fight from him today, but that was a warning.

“Well then, [Y/n], tell me. What do you think would happen to you if they knew your secret? Wouldn’t it make you happy to be able to indulge in the privilege we all seem to have?” You paused, a second turning to a minute, and your heart started to sound like it was beating out of your chest. You considered the possibilities. “Well?”

Dream cursed, his brother now gone. He’d have to do this himself. He too removed his mask and you steeled yourself, crossing your arms. You stared at Dream’s face, bare from the smiling mask that everyone was so accustomed to, displaying the sneer he held special for you. Your back was straight. You were firm. Your gaze unwavering and directing back as much of a threat as his. "I can't understand why you don't like me. You basically built this land from the ground up, and you turn out to be like this?"

His lip curled and your eyes flickered to his lips for a moment before you were back to glaring into his eyes. "You better watch your tongue around me. You can’t fool me with your little “no past lives” act. And you can’t make everyone like you. I know I don’t."

"You're the first who doesn’t, then. And just because you don’t believe that I have no other lives doesn’t mean you can go blabbing to the whole server either.”

“What makes me happy doesn’t matter. If others like me for who I am now, I’m fine.” This turned his curled lip into a full sneer, and you couldn’t stand to look at him anymore.

“See? This is why I don’t like you!” He grabbed your shoulders, and it took every ounce of your willpower to not yank yourself away. “You try to make everyone else happy and leave yourself in the dust! You can’t just do that.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat when you looked back up at him, and your eyes connected once. He wasn’t angry. He was worried. You couldn’t tell if it was for you or for the lost potential, but it was something you had never expected to come from Dream of all people. “Why do you care so much? This doesn’t affect you.”

“Anything concerning my brother affects me.”

“How does this affect XD?” He released you from his grasp.

“Because you are an anomaly and you shouldn’t be here.”

“Then why doesn’t he do something about it? Or Kristin? Or even Drista?” You couldn’t ignore the way he looked away, seemingly ashamed.

“Because they can’t.”

So what did it mean when the gods couldn’t touch you?

[dorotharry]

tiny dancer ; prologue

Pairing: 40s!bucky barnes x fem!reader

Next Chapter

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: kinda long for a prologue, fluff, not really much but please let me know if anything in this upsets you. 

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: This is my first Bucky fic, I thought of it last night and I was kind of excited to write it. Sorry if any of the information is wrong as well my knowledge of Ballet and Brooklyn/NY are limited. I’m not sure if there are any similar story types but feel is so please let me know and I’ll tag them for people to read in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy :) Feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter. 

Before everything - 1942

“Oh, come on Steve, come to the Ballet with me!” Bucky spoke enthusiastically, his arms pressed again the frame of Steve’s front door. “It’s my last week before I go.”

“And you couldn’t have just chose to go to a bar like any other normal man would a week before going to the war?” Steve responded looking sceptically at his best friend. Someone who he had never known to be interested in ballet.

“Because going to a bar filled with soldiers would be a bright choice for you,” sighed Bucky, “I’d rather not have to get into another fight…” Steve rolled his eyes and pursed his lips waiting for Bucky to continue. “Everyone in New York is talking about the Ballet! Don’t you want to feel cultured?” Bucky exclaimed moving away from the door frame. “Plus!, I got us pretty good seats if I do say so myself, what row was it again…?” He trailed off looking smugly at Steve. “…Oh, that’s right! Row three.”

“Too bad you couldn’t score front row,” responded Steve mimicking Bucky’s cocky attitude. Bucky huffed at his friend’s response. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” laughed Steve, “Fine if the ballet is where you want to go a week before you go, then the ballet is where we’re going, I guess.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up at his friends’ words. “Yes! This is going to be great, a night on the town, just two gentlemen going to see the ballet.” He grinned, Steve noting how happy he seemed to be going to the ballet; he wasn’t sure why. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6pm”, Bucky spoke turning away from his still sceptical best friend.

“Okay then,” responded Steve watching him walk off.

Just as he’d said, Bucky had picked Steve up the next day, driving them to the theatre and making it there for 6:30. They wandered the foyer looking at all of the people dressed up to watch the performance like them. Many had already been a few times and were raving about what they were most excited for again. For Bucky and Steve though, this is new territory. Both of them glad though that they were doing something new. They made their way into the theatre finding their seats, as everyone began to pile in, ready for the show.

“I’ve heard that the lead female ballet dancer is meant to be very good”, whispered Bucky to Steve as the lights began to dim.

“You mean the Prima Ballerina?” Whispered back Steve correcting him.

Bucky looked at Steve with an amused look. “For someone who didn’t want to come you sure know a lot about ballet”, chuckled Bucky placing his focus back towards the stage.

Steve sighed and looked back at him, “I don’t know a lot of ballet, that’s just common knowled—” He was shushed by Bucky as he tapped him on the shoulder multiple times in order to tell him to be quiet. Steve looked towards the stage again as the orchestra began playing.

Bucky watched as the curtains opened, the stage filled with ballet dancers.

Not long into the performance you would enter, nervous side stage as your friends reminded you of how brilliant you would be. This wasn’t your first time performing but every time was just as nerve-wracking as the last. This was your passion of course, and you wanted nothing more than to be perfect.  You looked down at your tutu, a bright red tutu, a colour that stood out amongst the rest of the cast who were dressed in whites and greens. Even the male lead was only dressed in white. You particularly like your pointe shoes the best; they were a stunning bright red to match the rest of your costume.

Shaken from your thoughts you heard the beginning of your entrance within the music, jumping up and down briefly before getting into position to enter. Then you did, getting into character instantly.

Bucky gasped as his eyes followed you as you entered the stage so gracefully. He had heard you were a magnificent dancer, but he didn’t know you were so beautiful. Composing himself in his seat he watched as you were so engrossed in the music and the dance. It was obvious you loved what you did.

As the ballet continued his eyes never lost focus from you. He even thought there was one time when you had looked at him in the audience, but he knew that couldn’t be true, someone so perfect would never draw their focus from their work to look at him.

Even during the interval Bucky was in his own world as he thought about how captivating you had been. Barely listening but nodding as Steve spoke to him about his thoughts of the show.

When the show finally ended the crowd stood up applauding the performance. Eagerly so did Bucky, Steve following. As you bowed many people threw roses and he mentally cursed himself for not bringing any himself. The curtains closed and the theatre lights slowly came back on.

“Well I must say I did enjoy that,” spoke Steve as they exited the theatre, breaking the silence and pulling Bucky from his thoughts, he stopped walked and looked at Steve.

“Steve, call me crazy but I have to meet her, I have to know her name.”

Steve looked at Bucky and sighed knowing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Alright pal, why don’t we wait near the door the cast exit from?”

Bucky practically jumped up and down as he followed his friend, who somehow knew where the cast door was, although it wasn’t a hard guess. Just down the alleyway next to the theatre.

-     

After the performance, adrenaline was running through you like crazy. You loved this feeling. Tonight’s audience was marvellous, and they held nothing back when applauding you all for your performance.

When you performed you couldn’t see much of the audience due to the stage lights, but you could see up to around the 4th row. While you had stopped at the end one of your solos in the first act your eyes had briefly stumbled upon a very handsome man with brunette hair. But you didn’t get a great look because as soon as one song ended the next one started.

You had removed your costume and let your hair out of its bun brushing it out and attempting to make it look as presentable as you could. You got into a nice dress which you had arrived in, keeping your makeup on along with your bright red lipstick. Grabbing your bag, you said goodbye to your fellow colleagues as you exited the backstage area and entered the alleyway.

As you got to where the alleyway ended, and the city sidewalk started you were met with the same brunette you had noticed during the show. “Miss, I’m terribly sorry to bother you after your show but I just had to introduce myself to such a beautiful and talented woman.” Rambled Bucky.

You blushed and looked down as your dress, “Why thank you…” you trailed off waiting for the handsome stranger to tell you, his name. He seemed a bit distractedd looking at your eyes that he didn’t catch on though, causing his smaller blonde friend next to him to nudge him.

“Oh, sorry my names Bucky,” he replied letting out a nervous chuckle, “and this is Steve,” gesturing to his best friend.

Steve raised his arm to shake your hand, “Sorry miss but what was your name again? Bucky here forgot to tell me.”

You raised your arm and shook his hand, letting out a giggle over the two men in front of you, “My names y/n”.

You looked back over at Bucky who seemed to be going over something in his brain. “I wanted to know if you wanted to get a drink or some food or something with me?” What Bucky thought would be a confident question turned more into a rambling mess. Gosh he thought you were pretty.

You blushed, “How am I to know you’re not a murderer?” Raising an eyebrow at the nervous man in front of you.

Steve interjected this time, “I can confirm y/n, he’s not a murderer. Honestly, he’s usually a lot better at flirting than this, I’ve never seen him look so nervous.”

Bucky sent a death glare at Steve before looking back at you. You laughed again, grinning ear to ear, “Well I am pretty hungry, so I won’t say no, especially when a ladies’ man is so nervous to talk to me.” You smirked.

Now it was Bucky’s turn to grin, “great!” He responded. “I just have to drop Steve home and then we’re all set… Did you have a car?” He asked.

“Nope,” you spoke back, “so… do you think you’d be able to drop me home afterwards?” you asked, “You know considering I’m being so nice to a stranger.”

“I was going to offer anyway,” he replied signalling you to follow. You chatted with the two men as you walked to the car, when you got there, you insisted Steve sit in the front considering he was being dropped home. Then once you arrived at his, you both said your goodbyes to Steve. “I hope to see you again soon,” you yelled from the car as you sat in the front waving.

Steve waved back, as Bucky drove off to one of his favourite bars/restaurants beeping his horn at Steve as he left.

The rest of the night went smoothly, you both ate and chatted for hours, feeling like time barely existed with one another. It may sound cheesy but both of you felt like you were meant to meet one another. The only downside was that Bucky had told you he would be leaving for the war at the end of week, so you both knew it could never be anything more until at least the war ended.

It wasn’t until you realised the time that you knew you needed to get home, being Prima Ballerina wasn’t an easy job and it required getting at least some sleep. Bucky understood and drove you home continuing to talk about everything together. He even confessed he wished he had of gotten you some roses, to which you responded that how would he have known to do that. Of course, Bucky being a gentleman he still was disappointed he didn’t, even if you didn’t mind.

When you got home you thanked him for the wonderful night. “I’m going to see you again before I go,” he said from in the car, as you stood by the passenger window.

“I hoped you’d say that” you replied, “Good night Bucky,” you blew him a kiss, and his cheeks turned a bright pink.

“Goodnight y/n” he replied, grinning like a fool. He watched you walk into your apartment to make sure you got in safe before driving off. Gosh you were perfect.

-   

It was finally the day he left.

Just like he promised you did see him again. After each show through the week, he would bring you a rose. Each time making you blush.

Most days he just drove you home and you chatted in the car, but a couple of times you got dinner again and made the most of the time you had with your new friend. You wished he didn’t have to go; you wished every time you saw him you could kiss him. But that felt like it would complicate things, you hadn’t known him long enough to put yourself through that kind of heart ache.

You and Steve were at the train station saying goodbye to Bucky. It was hard for Steve, he wanted nothing more than to go with his best friend and fight for his country, but he couldn’t. They didn’t want him.

For you though, you had only known Bucky a week, you had grown so comfortable with him, so it was hard seeing him leave, not knowing if he’d come back. He knew more about you than some of your closest friends that you had known for years, he was just that kind of guy, someone you could trust.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to just grab you and kiss you, but he didn’t know if that’s what you wanted. Steve had told him the day before to just go for it, but he was unsure. He didn’t want to put you through the heart ache. As he picked up his bags, Steve gave him a giant hug, you stepped forward and did the same hoping you wouldn’t have to let him go.

Releasing each other from your embrace, you both looked into each other’s eyes. Your eyes filled with water, and you could tell Bucky was holding back tears.

“Goodbye Steve, goodbye y/n” he spoke sadly as he began to walk towards the train.

Steve looked at you as if to say, ‘are you sure you don’t want to just go for it?’ and you sighed. He was right, what was there to lose? Bugger this you thought, “Bucky!” you yelled running towards him, “You forgot something!” He turned around confused only to be greeted by you grabbing his face and softly yet hungrily pressing your lips to his. He sighed into the kiss dropping his bags, he didn’t push you away instead he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. 

This kiss was nothing like any of the kisses you had experienced before, if fact it made you feel the same way ballet did. It was the same for Bucky, none of the kisses he had ever shared with anyone felt like this.

You finally stopped and parted, resting your foreheads on one another’s.  

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll see you again.” He spoke softly to you.

You stepped back as a few tears fell down your face, nodding. He gave you a charming Bucky smile before picking his bags back up and turning away. You walked back to Steve giving him a hug, as he watched his best friend leave him for the first time in his life.

You wanted nothing more than to believe that you would see each other again.

Little did you know you would, only 72 years later.

Chapter One (next chapter)

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 20: Off Planet (Meeting the Justice League)

AO3

Prev

Marinette, in her Ladybird costume, looked at her older brother warily. 

“Are you sure we’re not gonna get in trouble for this?” She asks, avoiding looking around too much. If she just keeps looking at Jason, she can have plausible deniability until he confirms that they’re allowed to be here. Because last she checked, she wasn’t even allowed on patrols. Let alone in the Watchtower. 

“Tt. I would like to see Father try. He knows he is currently on Todd’s ‘list’.” Damian-er, Robin- says, crossing his arms and scowling. Marinette frowns. She didn’t want her brothers to fight with her dad because of her….but then again, she was still really hurt by her dad’s actions. And he still hadn’t apologized. Making up her mind, she lets out a quick sigh and glances around, jaw dropping slightly. It was amazing! And definitely worth the inevitable lecture they’d be getting when they got home. 

“Robin, Red Hood.” A man’s voice catches her attention and she whirls around, grinning from ear to ear. Sure, she’d seen Superman on the computer, but now she was meeting him in person. In person! “And you are?” He adds, quirking an eyebrow at her. 

“I’m Ladybird. Nice to meet you in person.” She says with a wide grin. 

“You don’t look anything like you did over video call.” He says, frowning at her as if she was a puzzle. She winces. Miraculous magic definitely didn’t cover her the last time she’d seen him. Scanning the look on his face, everything suddenly clicks. She thinks back to the Gala, how familiar Clark Kent had seemed. Well crap. Her dad’s best journalist friend was also his best superhero friend. Who'd've thought. 

“Oh, uh, yeah- well, um. Lighting?” She stumbles out, avoiding the questioning look from her older brother. 

“Right. Well, welcome to the tower. Is Batman around? I’ve been meaning to talk to him.” Superman says, though she guesses he’s only asking to try and get them to reveal where their dad is. He’d definitely be able to tell if Batman was here. 

“Oh, would you look at the time, welp, gotta go.” Jason-Red Hood- says, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her away from Superman. 

“How long do you think we have until he tells B?” She asks under her breath, ignoring the snort coming from where they left him. 

“Not long. But, we definitely have enough time for you to meet a few more Leaguers before we’ve gotta get home.” Jason reassures her as they walk down the hall. 

“What’re you kids doing here?” A man- Green Lantern- asks. 

“Pissing off Bats.” Jason says simply. Green Lantern frowns. 

“Is that a good idea?” He asks. “And who even is she?” 

“Tt. She is not any of your concern. Neither is our appearance here. If you know what is good for you, you will keep it to yourself.” Damian says, Green Lantern immediately backing off. 

“Christ, his kids are insane.” He mumbles before walking away. Jason keeps pushing them forward and Marinette is starting to think that he planned something besides a ‘random trip to the Watchtower to piss Bruce off’. They walk into a room and Marinette’s eyes widen, realizing it looks like some kind of meeting space. And Wonder Woman is seated at the table, seemingly preparing for a meeting. Oh no. 

“What are the three of you doing here? You know-” She starts before turning all of her attention to Marinette. 

“Uh…..hi?” She says with an awkward wave. 

“You’re the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous.” Wonder Woman says and Marinette’s jaw drops. 

“What!” Jason yells in surprise. Okay, so this wasn’t the plan. 

“How do you know that?” Marinette asks, her mind running a million miles a minute. How did Wonder Woman know? Had she purposefully ignored the calls Marinette had originally made as Ladybug? 

“My mother was a holder. I was under the impression that the Miraculous were no longer in circulation.” Wonder Woman says, a tense look on her face. 

“I’ve been the holder for nearly two years.” Marinette says, tensing. She wasn’t going to try to take it from her, was she?

“I mean no offense, but you seem young.” Wonder Woman says cautiously. 

“I’m older than Robin.” She says, ignoring her brother’s annoyed tut. Yeah, so he was trained from birth and she wasn’t, who cares. Didn’t mean she wasn’t able to protect her city. She’d do whatever she had to do to protect Paris. Whatever it takes. 

---

Bruce was tired. More specifically, he was tired of fighting with his children. Neither Jason nor Damian would talk to him, Marinette kept avoiding eye contact, Tim was working on more cases. The only one who was talking to him was Dick, but even Dick was quieter than normal. He supposed it had something to do with the Gala, but that was days ago. He’d assumed that they would be over it by now, but no such luck. Instead, they were all avoiding him like the plague. Which meant he was alone in the manor for the first time in awhile. It was quiet. He hated it.

“You’ll never guess where two of your sons are.” Clark says, landing in front of him suddenly. Bruce resists the urge to sigh. Of course his sons were up to something. 

“Were they masked?” Bruce asks as a quick way to narrow down their location. 

“Yeah, and Ladybird was with them.” He says. Bruce’s jaw clenches. She wasn’t supposed to go on patrol with the boys. She could patrol in Paris and fight there, but the last time she fought here she was injured. Badly. She knew how he felt about her going out like that. Deciding to give up on the guessing game, Bruce pulls out his phone and quickly pulls up the app that has the trackers on it. He knew he’d be unable to track Marinette, as she was transformed, but all of his sons had trackers in their suits. Bruce thinks for a moment, thinking back to the past few days on who would be most likely to take Marinette on patrol somewhere. He purses his lips as he realizes one of the boys has to be Jason. Of course. Clicking on Jason’s name, he groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. He took her to the Watchtower. He glances at the dot next to Jason- Damian’s name blinking back at him. This couldn’t end well. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He grumbles, whirling around to stalk off to get in uniform. Time to go pick up his damn kids. 

---

Jason had made many mistakes in his life. He was pretty sure this was one of them. He ducks as another chair is thrown across the room, an anger filled scream following it. 

“Pix, you maybe wanna-” He tries to say, hoping to talk her down from throwing another chair. She’d already broken three. 

“Diana says this is healthy!” Pixie says with a bright smile. He’s relieved for a moment, but it doesn’t last. Her face twists up as she screams again, throwing another chair. Jason ducks and it flies over him, shattering against the doorframe. 

“What is going on here?” Batman’s gruff voice rings through the room and Jason watches as Marinette freezes. Okay, so this can go one of two- and another chair flies at their dad. 

“Ladybug, that’s just Batman. Your rage is not at him, remember? It is at your old Master, and the wielder of the Peacock Miraculous.” Diana says, laying a hand on Mari’s shoulder. The younger girl scoffs, crossing her arms defiantly and Jason is momentarily thrown at how much she looks like Damian. Jesus. 

“I know perfectly well who that is, Lady Diana. Please, excuse me, but I’m not particularly fond of him at the moment.” She snarks, and Jason is completely thrown. He’d known the kid was mad at Bruce, but she kinda sounded like...him. Well shit. That’s not the healthiest way to cope with anything. 

“Pix.” He says quietly. She turns to him and all of the tension drops as she walks over to him, standing almost behind him. Almost as if he could shield her. Good job Bruce. You really fucked up this time. 

“Ladybird, Robin, it’s time to leave.” B says, not even trying to boss Jason. He knew it wouldn’t turn out well for him. 

“No.” Marinette says, and Jason snorts. The kid was definitely pushing buttons today. 

“No?” B asks, his jaw clenched. 

“No. I’ll leave when Hood does.” She says, jutting out her chin in defiance. 

“No, you’ll leave when I tell you to. You’re not even supposed to be in uniform with the boys.” B snaps. 

“Father, there is no reason for her to stay hidden away. You know as well as I that she is an accomplished hero on her own. Hood and I simply wanted to let her meet Wonder Woman. We believed that meeting her would be beneficial for Ladybird.” Demon Spawn cuts in, his stance matching Pixie’s. He was totally going to have to have Replacement look at the footage from his helmet later so he could frame this picture. 

“I said it’s time to leave. I will be waiting outside of the Zeta tubes. If the two of you are not there in three minutes there will be consequences.” B snaps, turning and storming off. 

“I will allow you to make the call. If you wish, we can stay here and we will face Father’s wrath together. Or we could leave and come back when he is not so….worked up.” Damian says, his scowl replaced with a more neutral look. Jason was honestly shocked at how well Demon Spawn got along with Marinette. Especially since she was a “blood child” and older than Damian. It was weird. Marinette leans up against Jason, and he swears his heart breaks. He could tell, despite the mask, that she was hurting. 

“If you want, we can follow him back to Gotham and then head to one of my safe houses. Stay the night there, watch some movies, eat a shit ton of junk food.” Jason suggests with a grin. 

“Really?” She asks, looking up at him. He nods, ruffling her hair. 

“Sure thing, kiddo. Trust me, I know B can be a lot.” He says. He glances up as Diana clears her throat.

“Ladybug, I’ll be in contact. But the time limit set by Batman is quickly dwindling. I suggest leaving now to avoid any altercations.” She says and Jason nods, tugging his emotionally stunted little brother along with his emotionally distressed little sisters. One of these days Bruce was gonna fuck up bad enough that not even Jason could fix it.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

[cloudywriter]

promposals

rowaelin month - september 1st

prompt: i just realized i’m desperately in love with you 

hey guys!! it’s finally rowaelin month and i’m literally so excited you have no idea. sadly, i don’t have time to do every day but i’ll do as many as i can. i can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with. happy writing/reading! (this is just some straight fluff) 

masterlist, AO3

~~~

The school was abuzz, anticipation hung thick in the hallways during each passing period. It had been that way for a week or so now with prom on the horizon. Everyone was constantly on high alert for the next promposal, most desperately hoping it would be their own. Girls hung around their lockers inconspicuously for far longer than necessary and boys tried to play it cool while secretly fretting over who to ask and how to do it.

Rowan was over it pretty quickly, but he’d likely have to suffer through the next month of promposal after promposal. Today was no different, there was an asking in the parking lot before school, one in his first-period English class, another in the hallway after. He couldn’t escape it. 

Thankfully, Rowan wasn’t quite as grumpy as he used to be due to a certain blonde worming into his life a few years ago but he was still Rowan. Sullen and reserved as ever. That fateful blonde being the only one to draw him from his shell. 

Rowan sighed, aimlessly scrolling around on his phone. It was the passing period before his 3rd-period class, AP Biology, and Rowan was leaning against Aelin’s locker.

Aelin always stopped by her locker after her photography class to put her camera away and then they’d head to class together. It was their routine, the same every day. Not yet broken during their entire senior year which was quickly coming to a close. That was a subject Rowan didn’t want to broach though.

He cleared his head of those unsavory thoughts. Rowan could tell yet another proposal was gearing up, Ilias came around the corner holding a poster board in one hand and a bouquet of assorted flowers in the other. At that moment too, Aelin turned the corner, giving Rowan a small smile as she hurried towards him. 

Rowan’s cold resting face tugged into a smirk as she approached her already open locker. Rowan always took it upon himself to open it for her in advance, Aelin tended to fumble with the locks that required a specific number combination and artful twisting. 

As Aelin stored away her camera and shut her locker door with a thud, a gasp down the hallway had them both turning around. 

Ansel was there, her hand cupping her mouth, clearly unsuspecting of Ilias and his proposal. They both watched as Ansel excitedly agreed to prom with Ilias and took the flowers from his outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug. 

Aelin turned her attention away from the happy couple and began to walk towards their next class, Rowan following suit. They progressed for a bit in silence until Aelin spoke up. 

“I hope Chaol asks me to prom soon,” she confessed. 

Rowan almost choked, that single sentence baffling him. “Chaol?” He asked incredulously. 

“Or Dorian,” Aelin shrugged, crossing her arms in front of her. Rowan was suddenly feeling very panicked, like a fish that had accidentally discovered land, flopping around in search of water in a frenzy. To say he felt confused was an understatement. Rowan hadn’t given prom much of his brainpower. He hadn’t even considered asking anyone. He’d just assumed he’d go with Aelin. Why would he have thought otherwise? They did everything together; he’d expected prom would be no different.

When they sat down at their blacktop table in biology Rowan silently floundered as he tried to think over this revelation. Why would Aelin want to go with someone else? Usually, before class started, he and Aelin would joke around until the teacher told them it was time to reel it in but today Rowan stared ahead, picking at the skin of his thumb. A nervous tick he’d developed throughout high school. 

Should he ask someone else then? He couldn’t even think of anyone else he tolerated enough to spend the night with. Maybe Lyria? She was nice enough, always sharing her notes with him in English when he was too busy with lacrosse to do the reading. She was quiet, soft-spoken. Absolutely nothing like the girl sat next to him. That thought made him frown. Remelle? No, he could barely stand Remelle, but he knew she liked him so at least she’d definitely say yes. 

Rowan was pretty much out of luck. Aelin and his friend group were to whom his time was devoted to, he didn’t branch out much beyond them. 

He thought of Aelin all dressed up, maybe in a golden gown that catered to her love of theatrics. Possibly in a deep green that complemented her bright eyes and skin tone. He imagined her with her hair loosely curled and flowing down her back. The delicate, golden Kingsflame silhouette necklace he’d gotten her for her 18th birthday clasped around her neck. It was easy for Rowan to conjure up that image but he couldn’t picture her looking like that and holding onto Chaol’s arm. It felt so intensely wrong to even consider it. 

It was always him. He always imagined her with him. They were a package deal in Rowan’s mind, but apparently not in Aelin’s. 

Aelin seemed to be catching onto Rowan’s internal dilemma. Throughout the duration of the class, he could feel her watching him out of the corner of her peripheral, trying to gauge what could be wrong. She stayed quiet though and dutifully continued her notes that mostly consisted of a collection of small doodles. Rowan couldn’t help but watch and wonder how she truly felt about him.

For the rest of the school day, Rowan pretty much blew Aelin off. He sat between Lorcan and Fenrys at lunch instead of the 2 seats on the right side of the circular table that always housed Aelin and himself. He told her not to wait up in the stands during his lacrosse practice and to head home on her own instead. He could tell she was confused maybe even a little hurt but Rowan couldn’t bring himself to push aside his mass of feelings that had him acting strange. 

He wasn’t even completely sure what was wrong with himself. The thought of Aelin accompanying another guy to prom shouldn’t affect him like it was; they were only best friends nothing more. She had free reign to go with whoever she wanted and she could get whoever, Aelin was a beautiful girl he wasn’t blind to that. He’d just thought it’d be him. 

All throughout lacrosse practice, Rowan was distracted, missing the ball or the goal when he had it, a stark difference from his usual skill. His coach had already pulled him aside once and asked if he was feeling okay only to be given a grunted yeah before putting him back in. He only grew more upset with Aelin as he pondered the day’s events instead of keeping his head in the game. Some part of him knew it was irrational but he couldn’t help it. Why wouldn’t she want to share one of their last big moments of high school together?  

And that’s how he continued to feel as he made the short drive home with his hefty lacrosse bag weighing down his shoulder and his school bag heavy on his back. When he finally entered the home he sighed, the scent of his mother’s cooking filling his nostrils. Honestly, he’d rather stay up in his room and stew than sit through family dinner right now but he knew it’d only prompt more questions from his parents. So he dropped his things by the door much to his mother’s chagrin and collapsed into one of the dining table’s chairs. 

“Feeling alright, son?” His father’s silver brow rose, already catching on to his foul mood. 

“Yeah, just tired,” Rowan confirmed, taking a sip of water. 

His mother entered then, a dish of pasta cupped between her oven mitts that she placed in the center of the table. “How was practice?” She asked sweetly, stripping her hands of their cover and sitting down. 

“It was fine.”

Rowan’s mother and father exchanged a look between themselves. He was normally much more talkative, always giving them updates on school, on plays they’d done during practice, on Aelin. Rowan chose to ignore their concerned expressions and instead served himself a helping of dinner silently. 

His phone buzzed then from inside the pocket of his shorts. Rowan pulled it out to check the message and frowned at the screen. 

fire-breathing b queen👑 : r u okay? 

He stuck his phone back into his pocket instead of typing a reply and forced himself to eat the rest of his dinner. He only half-listened to his parents’ conversation about their days and what was going on in his dad’s office. Rowan knew he was stewing again, falling into a spiral of uncertainty. 

“Rowan, honey, are you sure you’re okay?” His mother pressed, worry lining her brow. 

Rowan’s lips formed a thin line. No, he wasn’t okay. 

In a split-second decision, Rowan decided he was done dancing around whatever was going on between him and Aelin. “I need to go,” Rowan said suddenly, standing up from his chair that loudly scraped across the floor. His parents looked surprised by his outburst but didn’t stop him as he grabbed his keys from the little table by the front entrance and left. 

Rowan didn’t even need to look at the road to know the way to Aelin’s house. The route was in his bones now and within a few minutes he was pulling up in front of her large white house. He hopped out of his truck, not even bothering to lock the doors before he pounded on her green-painted front door. 

The door opened with a squeak and he saw Aelin standing there in one of her nightgowns that drove Rowan absolutely mad. 

“You’re not going to prom with Chaol,” he rasped, pushing the hair falling on his forehead back with his hand. 

“Huh?” Aelin was clearly confused as to why Rowan had come knocking at her door without preamble. 

“You’re not going with him,” Rowan once again declared, standing his ground, ready to get everything off his chest before he lost the courage. 

“Ro, I don’t get what you’re going on about. He hasn’t even asked me and if he doesn’t ask me I don’t know who’d I go with,” she admitted, her hand still holding the door open and her mouth in a serious line. 

Rowan surges forward at that, gripping both of Aelin’s hands in his own. “You’d go with me, Aelin. I want you to go with me,” he pleaded with her, lifting her hands up to his chest. “Aelin,” he continued, “I don’t want to go with anyone else but you. I want to do everything with you, go everywhere with you. Gods, Aelin, you’re like my reason to breathe, to get up in the morning.”

“Row-” Aelin tried to interrupt, her blue eyes going wide. 

“No, just let me finish, I- I know that sounds crazy and I know it’s so out of the blue and you didn’t expect me to show up outside your door like this and start professing my feelings,” Rowan was rambling now he knew. Everything he wanted to say to her was running through his mind like a freight train so much so he struggled to express it. The words were jumbled in his mind as if they were a bowl of alphabet soup in a blender. He just needed her to know how he felt. 

“I- I just, I thought about you going to prom with Chaol or some other guy all damn day and I hated it. Gods, I couldn’t figure out why I hated it so much, it just it- it felt so wrong. Fireheart, I want you to be with me. Gods, I think I’m so desperately in love with you I’m going to combust or something.” Rowan was getting flustered now, he knew his face was burning and he was sweating, maybe from the humidity or maybe from the sheer weight of what he was confessing to his best friend.  “Rowan,” Aelin started once again, her face contorted in pure shock. 

“I know you might not feel the same Aelin, I knew I came here risking that, and if you don’t feel the same-”

“Rowan!” Aelin said with more force, bringing her hands to cup his face. “Listen to me,” she pleaded. 

Rowan stopped trying to fight her and looked at her. He felt as though his stomach might fall out. His nerves were so intense as he stared into Aelin’s golden-ringed eyes. 

“You’re just so fucking stupid,” Aelin breathed. 

Rowan’s brow furrowed, he certainly hadn’t expected her to say that. “Wha-” he began. 

He couldn’t even finish his thought before Aelin’s lips descended upon his own. She cradled his face in her hands as her soft lips moved against his in a slow rhythm. Rowan’s brain stalled and struggled to catch up with what the hell was happening. 

He just knew this felt right, this felt so gods-damn right. 

His hands were loosely wrapped around her wrists and they traveled lightly over her arms and moved to rest on her back and pull her into him. 

Her body molded against his own. It felt like the final bit of a 50,000 piece puzzle had finally fallen into place after years of pouring over it. Rowan kissed Aelin back with just as much fever, desperate to keep her lips on his own. He brushed his tongue along the seam of her lips and she pulled back. 

They both stood there, gulping down air as they stared at each other trying to navigate this unimaginable revelation. 

“You’re- you’re not going to prom with Chaol, right?” Rowan finally managed to ask. 

“No,” Aelin breathed. “I’ll go with you, I’ll always go with you.” 

Their lips met once again.

~~~

day one down. stay tuned and have a wonderful day, xoxo

[leroyzboots]

you and i are trying, together.

part two.

The amount of unease that can fit into Tommy's more-than-human-less-than-god body is honestly surprising.

Tommy paces back and forth on the floor of the Lambda lab, his Beyblade whirring between his fingers and his precious immortal dog following behind him with love.

They'd arrived at around half past midnight, but it's now early morning and there's been no sign of the other two members of the science team.

Bubby leans back in their chair, crossing his knee-high laced boots over their knee, and bounces the other one out of anxiety.

"Tommy," he barks; "you're scaring the other scientists."

Tommy glances down and realizes that the Beyblade is whizzing madly in the air around his hands, suspended from nothing.

"D-dammit," He mutters, snatching his toy back and returns it to his pocket.

"They sho-should have been back by now."

Tommy stops pacing for a second and stares down the Coomers with his father's intensity.

"Surely, Benrey could have used teleportation?" Harold chimes in, his knuckles bruised slightly from his repeated stims.

"I think that's what he meant, dear," Bubby replies, patting their husband's shoulder affectionately.

"Yes, exactly!"

Tommy throws his hands into his pockets, huffing out his frustration.

"The f-fact that they're not...back yet! Means something has gone-"

A enormous thud echoes from the the floor, a piece of tile juts out slightly and scatters the scientists nearby.

"Wrong," Tommy finishes miserably, drawing his gun and preparing for Xen's creatures.

Beside him, Sunkist snarls, her hackles raised in warning.

The tile cracks and shoots into the air, with accompanying gunfire from below, and a hatch busts open from the hole.

Tommy aims to shoot, but immediately lowers his gun upon seeing Mr. Freeman's tired but happy face, followed closely by Benrey, the bags under his eyes looking darker than usual.

"G-Gordon!!"

Tommy rushes forward, embracing them both, and the knots of tension unravel in his stomach.

Benrey snuggles just a little closer into Tommy's coat, and Tommy releases Gordon to pull Benrey into a full hug.

--

Tommy planned on never admitting it to himself, but these two were the people he loved the most.

Benrey..he'd known Benrey for years.

It started when Benrey was just out of training, and Tommy had completed his certification to become a top scientist.

Benrey was 19, maybe 20 at the oldest, his hair pulled into a ponytail that ran down his back.

They weren't close, then, Benrey had been assigned to guard the G-Man's adopted son.

Benrey couldn't die, and Tommy's line of work was dangerous enough to need protection.

So it all worked out.

They barely exchanged more than a few words to eachother until that one night, that one fucking night and Benrey is tripping over himself in tears, blood pouring from the wound on his back and he's clutching Tommy, pawing at his shoulders.

Benrey trembled like he's made from glass and will break if he falls, and Tommy gripped the back of the others security vest so tightly the kevlar nearly rips in half.

And that's saying something.

That night they sat together and they're closer in distance than they've ever been, Tommy's warm and gentle hands bandaged the wound above the numbers tattooed onto Benrey's tailbone and Benrey spilled everything.

Between sniffles and the occasional sob, Benrey confessed, about the tools that somehow hurt him beyond regeneration, leaving a scar, about the men and their evil sticks of lightning that would seep into his bones and fill him with pain so intense he felt like he would break in half.

Tommy nearly broke in half himself.

He felt helpless, and so he went to the only person he knew would make the ones who hurt his first and only friend pay dearly-

His father.

Oh, Tommy had never seen the G-man so angry.

Black Mesa was a research facility, for god's sake, dedicated to the study of alien life and the progression of the human body.

So when Tommy's dad realized that the prototype imprisonment he had resolved several years ago had resurfaced with an even uglier face, he sent scientists who had never experienced fear in their lives tripping for the door in yelps of terror.

And that had been the end of it.

Benrey continued his job as a security guard, people who had previously been made in the facility were hired back on as scientists in new departments such as mixology and cybernetics, and Black Mesa cut its ties with the military.

Black Mesa, Benrey explained later in his own broken way to Tommy in the quiet breakroom during lunch hour, had been trying to create the perfect human being.

There were thousands upon thousands of prototypes that had been created, and Benrey had been the last.

But there had always been something wrong with the ones they created, whether it was serious physical or mental deformities, or simply a sense of fucked up little creature that ended up resulting in the insane amount of scientists with the ability to grow in size, and the security guards that always had a few too many rows of teeth or glowing eyes and severe anger issues.

They weren't always grown in tubes, Tommy learned, but they were always branded with their serial number on the base of the spine.

The one before him, Benrey quipped with a mouthful of sandwich, had been born to a prototype and a normal human employee, before they stripped them out with a memory wipe and sent them into normal society.

The anxious feeling that haunted Tommy in the years that followed had something to do with that piece of information in particular.

Something told him that the military and the alien planet they were studying wouldn't let go of Black Mesa kindly.

Mr. Freeman confirmed that.

He's in the hallway, on his way to get a soda, when he's met with a newer employee, only worked here about 4 or so years.

He seemed kind enough, if a little loud and stubborn. And alright, maybe it hurt Tommy's feelings when Gordon called him a freak, but that was pushed aside with the Resonance Cascade.

Tommy knew that this was it, this was the boot boys' revenge for cutting them out of the picture, but there was something else, distinctly and unsettlingly alien about the Cascade.

The whole of Black Mesa fell into shambles, with creatures of Xen integrating into their carefully built walls and lives, and Tommy kinda freaked, okay?

He'd seen Dr. Coomer around, always greeting him with a wonderful "Hello!!", and was met with a thrill in his stomach when he introduced another prototype as his husband.

Those two had been with him, in the observation room when the project exploded around Gordon and Benrey-

he wasn't supposed to be in the test chamber, what if it seriously hurt him?-

And maybe that was when Tommy realized he was in love with Benrey.

Over time, he felt a sense of conflict slowly building as he made friends with Mr. Freeman.

He seemed to hate Benrey, they hated eachother, but Tommy liked one and loved the other so he became their middle ground.

He was convinced to himself that Benrey liked him as well, until that room, that dark, dark room, and suddenly Benrey is kneeling in a puddle of Gordon's blood and Bubby is screaming, sobbing, blubbering his apologies to anyone who is listening as the soldiers drag them away and Benrey-

He says it, he says those words and it breaks Tommy's heart into a billion pieces-

"Because I love him, okay?! I'm fucking- whoop-de-doo, in love with Gordon god. G-goddamn Freeman, okay?..."

And then Benrey teleports, and he's gone, and Bubby is gone and Dr. Coomer leaves him in the cold dark sewer by himself.

Tommy cried.

Burying his head in his coat, he cried hard and long, alone on the rocky floor.

And then Mr. Freeman crawls out of the pipe, and Tommy can't help it, he holds him.

Gordon reeks of sewage and his bloody hand smells of copper but Tommy doesn't care, and alright, maybe that's when Tommy realized he's in love with Gordon too.

Alright, Tommy can deal with that.

Something Tommy can't deal with is the fact that his instincts are going fucking haywire.

Tommy's always been very perceptive when it comes to time, maybe he can't stop time like his father can, but he's definitely got a certain sense of time and reality as it surrounds him.

Being able to reach out and touch and feel certain areas, but not control them, and all of time is wrapped around him like a blanket.

So when the floor crumbles away below them and Benrey and Gordon fall deep into the recesses of Black Mesa's hellscape, Tommy freaks the fuck out.

A deep, inherent concern lays nested in the pit of his mind like a pile of cottonmouth snakes, hissing madly and snarling that something, something, is absolutely wrong with how this is supposed to go.

Tommy has a sinking feeling that something terrible is going to happen.

--

Man, Benrey really hates this place.

The scientists of the Lambda lab asked a simple request of the Science Team- go through the portal to Xen, get rid of the Nihilanth, bring back some weird space shit.

Easy as pie.

Right?

Wrong.

Benrey feels sick, feverish on this planet.

As he follows behind the group, his legs feel leaden and heavy, and he tugs at the collar of his uniform, which feels uncomfortably tight around his neck.

He's sweating, unusually warm beneath his helmet, but shivering as though chilled to his bones.

There's a tug, deep in his torso, pulling him along, but it's a nasty, oppressive feeling that makes his limbs feel like noodles.

He swallows nervously, eyes darting across the fetid, blood colored planet of Xen.

The sour smell clogs his senses, and as they trudge deeper and deeper through the portals, away from the floating rocks with little gravity and past strange barrels of highly toxic looking liquid, the heavy pull in Benrey's chest only grows stronger and more sickly.

They push through a final, puke-green portal, and the feeling inside of Benrey swells to near explosion.

A cave, with jagged and dark stone running up the walls in wicked cracks, a deep red flush to the area.

Water is flooding Benrey's boots, a putrid and decaying smell to the liquid, and it only adds to Benrey's fatigue.

The creature before them could only be the Nihilanth itself, and the very sight sends such a fucking shudder down Benrey's spine.

It's disgusting, twisted and pulsating flesh running down what must be its face, beady eyes in a cadaverous socket.

It looks like a fetus, a failed attempt of termination long after the allotted time.

It speaks, and the chorus of voices that accompanies it gives away the fact that Xen isn't just the planet-

It's the entire race.

"So. The humans have finally decided to be rid of us."

Gordon looks tired, beaten, but pulls himself upward and grunts through the pain of his broken shin.

"Get your video game dialogue out of the way," he says, with a dismissive wave of his gun-hand.

"I'm about done with this alien shit."

The Nihilanth laughs, a hideous and painful sound, and tilts its head in curiosity towards the little group of vagabonds.

"But you have brought us the very thing we need, Mr. Freeman."

Gordon groans in frustration, turning back to his friends with his teeth grinding against eachother.

"Why does it know my name?"

Xens' audience shrieks with delight, and the Nihilanth's barely feasible mouth twists into what can only be guessed as a grin.

"Xen knows everything about you, Mr. Freeman."

Benrey sways on the spot, his boots splashing the strange water, and the scene before him blurs.

"Whadda....what the hell are you..talking about, man?"

Xen's creatures seem to roar with laughter, and beside Benrey, Dr. Coomer throws up his fists protestingly.

"Xen has been all knowing, all seeing since time begun. As we grow, so do our minds, until we are forced to repopulate. Regrow."

Beneath their feet, headcrabs scuttle ominously, causing Tommy to jump backward with surprise.

"But human beings became a problem for Xen. Their flimsy bodies failed, burst open upon integration."

Benrey is only just awake enough to process this.

"The scientists of Black Mesa were so eager to learn of a new planet. So Xen took influence, and under the guise of building a perfect human being, created what Xen needed."

Gordon scoffs, his shoulders shaking as he laughs scornfully.

Xen reacts strongly, a collective hiss rising around them.

"Do not laugh at us, human."

The headcrabs stay at a distance, but raise their pincers and click them menacingly as the Nihilanth's speech continues.

"Xen required a human being who could withstand radiation, a being who could lose blood en mass and not perish."

A sense of dread washes over the Science Team, and Tommy instinctively puts himself in front of Gordon.

Bubby ignites his arms protectively.

"Let me guess," Gordon growls, revving up his minigun limb; "you needed me?"

Xen's creatures wail in joy, and Benrey takes that as a yes, and reaches for his gun, when something big and poisonous and slimy wraps around his ankle.

"Xen requires Benrey."

Benrey yelps as the Nihilanth drags him underneath the water, bubbles of Sweet Voice trailing from his mouth as his back bounces on the cragged floor beneath the surface.

The Nihilanth swings him into the air, and Benrey splutters, ears waterlogged under his helmet, which slips from his head and falls to the ground with a splash, Benrey's short black hair now dripping wet.

"Look at you, our once perfect vessel- a mewling, pathetic dog."

Hung upside down by his ankle, Benrey gasps in pain as Xen shakes him repeatedly, and for a brief, sickening moment, Benrey is forcibly reminded of the Finding Nemo movie Tommy showed him-

He feels like a fish in Darla's little bag.

"Bark, bark, bark but no bite. You were made with Xen's own blood and yet you cannot even protect those you are infatuated with."

With that, the Nihilanth throws him to the far wall, and his skull cracks on the rock.

It doesn't heal, and Benrey slumps down, struggling to stand, his eyesight swimming with tears.

"You think the Freeman human loves you? You cost him a limb. You would be perfect save for your one flaw- you kneel before a man you could kill with no effort, and you beg him to love you as you love him."

Benrey shakes, kneeling, and whimpers as he chokes out a sob, not trying to disguise his tears.

"You truly are nothing."

"No."

The word is tiny, barely audible.

Then again, louder, with a crack of his voice but more than enough power-

"No. You're wrong."

Gordon pulls himself to full height, scowling so deeply the age shows on his face.

"Benrey is everything to us. To all of us, but especially me."

"Y-yeah! We're not afraid of you!" Tommy chimes, and Sunkist howls with approval.

"If you or your alien bitches thought we'd just leave him here, you're just as stupid as you look."

Bubby grins wildly, cracking their neck from side to side, his bright and eager eyes flashing beneath their glasses.

"Don't fuck with the Science Team!" Coomer bellows, and Bubby cheers beside him.

"Now I'm only gonna tell you once," Gordon beams, turning away from his family to draw his gun-hand and point it at Xen's Nihilanth.

"Piss off."

Gordon fires, and the accompanying screams of headcrabs and peeper puppies echo across the cave, and Benrey is overtaken with an aching, sweet feeling he usually associates with Gordon.

It's love.

Benrey smiles fondly as his knees buckle and he falls to the ground and submerges in the murky waters.

--

Benrey wakes up and immediately is struck with a massive goddamn headache.

He closes his eyes and pulls the pillow over his ears, but the pain is there and clearly is not going anywhere, so he's going to have to ask for an aspirin or some shit.

Sitting up makes him so nauseous it's not even funny, so he decides it's not worth it to stand.

A loud snore startles Benrey enough to yelp, and he glances around for the source of the noise.

Sitting hand in hand on the floor, against the wall opposite his bed, are Gordon and Tommy, both bearing signs of wear and both dead asleep.

Gordon is clutching Benrey's helmet so tightly to his shirt it looks uncomfortable, and Tommy is curled protectively around Gordon's shoulders.

They're half dressed, like Black Mesa decided that the HEV suit and a bloody lab coat was not appropriate clothing but also did not have a whole lot of options for back up wear.

Benrey guesses this based on the fact that Gordon's not really wearing pants and Tommy's wearing a t-shirt that says "Birthday Girl".

Something about the fact that they're holding hands hurts Benrey, just a little.

His heart aches for a moment as he remembers the warmth of Gordon's hand and the feeling of a hug from the Beyblade enthusiast who was his best and only friend for a very long time.

Benrey shakes his head, decides he's going to repress it, and yawns.

God, his head hurts.

Benrey figures that if he stands, he's going to trip and probably break something, and since he doesn't trust his regeneration ability right now, he's not risking it.

Instead, he picks up his pillow and heaves it at the two scientists as hard as he can.

Tommy jolts awake, blinking, then smiles widely upon sighting the guard.

"Benrey!!"

Tommy shoots upward, and makes the distance between the wall and the hospital bed in one step, leaving Gordon to slump over and yell in surprise as he hits the floor.

Benrey's pulled into a crushing hug, and he wheezes for Tommy to be gentle.

"S-sorry!" Tommy cries happily, pulling back to take in Benrey's face.

"It's..it's g-good to see you awake."

Gordon stands, still holding the helmet, and wanders over to where Tommy is perched on the edge of the bed.

"You've been out for hours," Gordon adds, gently reaching out with his left hand to ruffle Benrey's hair.

"We were starting to get worried."

Benrey swallows his funny retort for once, instead choosing to spit out some clear blue song in response.

Tommy reads it almost immediately, and excuses himself to get medicine.

Gordon takes his spot on the bed, and just looks over Benrey.

Benrey feels like he's being scrutinized, with Gordon's soft green eyes just roaming over his face.

"Alright. Fucking. Get the questions outta the way," Benrey mumbles irritably, sticking out his tongue.

"I know you're fuckin. Curious about the shit Xen said."

Gordon laughs sweetly, setting the helmet down on the bed next to him and runs his fingers over it fondly.

Benrey takes a note of his new right hand, a grey-black prosthetic that clicks when Gordon moves his knuckles.

"I don't really have any questions," Gordon grins, adjusting his shirt.

"Other than, are you okay?"

Benrey's taken back by this one.

Not only did he cost Gordon his hand and almost his life about thirty billion times, but everyone (including him!) also just found out that Benrey was made with Xen DNA.

He's essentially Gordon's enemy in every sense of the word, and Gordon is asking if he's okay?

"....did the Nihilanth hit your head or somethin', man?? What the hell kinda. Question is that one??"

Gordon's smile softens massively, and it makes Benrey's heart melt into a little puddle in his stomach.

"Benrey, you saved my life a whole shit ton of times back there."

"Yeah, I also almost got you killed," Benrey interrupts, but Gordon doesn't pause.

"I've been thinking about a lot of things while you've been asleep, and I've been talking with Tommy a lot too."

Benrey's happy puddle evaporates into a heavy leaden ball inside of his chest.

"I don't need to hear this, dude."

Gordon looks a little confused, so Benrey keeps going.

"You're. I know you heard the shit Xen said about...."

Benrey pauses, unsure if he wants to say it out loud.

That'll finalize it, forever.

He takes a breath, then with a great effort, says it out loud.

"I love you. Have since we were kids, have since I first met you. Xen was...right. They were fucking right, you're happier with Tommy because he's never hurt you or..fuck. Fuck, man, you don't feel the same and I'm done pushin' it on you. We uhh, clear?"

Gordon covers his mouth with his hand, and for a split second Benrey thinks he's made him cry, but Gordon bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach and snorting in between giggles.

"B-Benny, you idiot, I am in love with you."

Maybe it's the sudden affectionate nickname, or the fact that Gordon said he loves him.

But Benrey blushes, hard, and pink-to-blue sweet voice bubbles out of his mouth in surprise.

"Whuh?"

Tommy walks back into the room, bottle in hand, and pauses at the sight in front of him.

"Oh, are w-we doing conf-confessions now?!"

Before Benrey can even speak, Tommy drops down beside him and kisses him on the cheek, putting him and Gordon's hands in his own.

Tommy doesn't say it, but Benrey gets the point.

"Fucking- FINALLY!!"

Benrey just might die for real.

Bubby leans in the doorway, a smug grin on his face, elbow resting on Dr. Coomer's shoulder.

"Ah, young love is beautiful!"

Tommy and Gordon laugh cheerfully at Dr. Coomer, and Benrey buries his face sheepishly in the blankets.

--

It takes a few days, but Benrey recovers pretty well from the Nihilanth.

He's thought a lot about what Xen said.

And he's decided that they were very wrong about him.

His love for other people isn't a flaw, it's his best quality.

He can and will protect the people he loves with his life, no matter what.

And he knows that the people he loves will do the same for him.

With time, Gordon learns not to flinch at the sight of his right hand, or gag when he drinks a soda.

Benrey learns to accept hugs and snuggles from Tommy, and figures out the jokes that Gordon likes and doesn't like.

Tommy is always there to patch up Benrey's injuries, and learns better responses that don't involve soda when Gordon needs to vent.

So Benrey feels safe, and knows that he's not the only one who's trying to be better.

Benrey and them are trying, together.

[aciid-eater]

Ishigami Senku x reader smut/lemon

Summary: Senku as to take care for y/n for a bit so she can get back to work.

Warning: Oral, Fingering,choking, squirting

____________________________________

“Pass me the nitric acid.” Senku stated, his gaze fixed on the loose formulas on the makeshift table. Y/n didn’t reply, handing over the small clay pot holding the liquid. She squirmed slightly in place as Senku whiped his forehead with the sleeve of his Stone Age attire. She gulped, her thighs clenching slightly as his toned arm reached out to grab a mineral from one of Chrome’s baskets.

Senku’s eyes caught hers, and she held them for a moment before looking away uninterestedly. She tried to mask her neediness, but Senku was smart, and he was picking up on the way y/n’s legs were rubbing together slowly.

“Salt.”

“Huh?” Y/n wasn’t even paying attention, her eyes were grazing over his hands. They were pretty big, and the way she was subconsciously rubbing her neck was giving away her intentions.

“Pass me the salt.” Senku said, his tone low, slightly demanding. Y/n’s eyes rolled back a little, and she suppressed the urge to drop her hand between her legs. She quickly picked up the cloth with the salt on it, passing it to the leek haired male. Sitting back on the empty side of the table, she watched him work, her bottom lip grasped tightly between her teeth.

“Is that all you need?” Chrome asked, entering the hut. Senku didn’t look up from his work as he answered the question.

“As far as materials, yes. Go into the village today, take Kohaku and Suika with you.“

“Why? Is there something we need to get there?” Chrome asked.

“No, Y/n and I need to take care of something. I’ll have Ginro come and get you guys when we’re done.” He said flatly.

“...Okay.” And Chrome was gone. The silence in hut was extremely heavy, a pin could be heard if y/n were to drop one. After maybe 20 minutes, when Senku knew the crew was gone, his gaze shifted to her. She started squirming under his stare, her thighs clenched together so hard that her ankles crossed over each other. Senku looked away with a chuckle.

“You’re a mess, doll face.” He mumbled, his voice low. Y/n held back a whine at the childhood nickname. As children, Senku would use y/n’s cute looks to trick adults into getting him what he wanted, hence the name. But the way he was using it now gave it such a different meaning.

“When’s the last time you took care of yourself?” He asked, looking back over his formulas.

“What do yo-“

“You know exactly what I mean.” He cut her off, watching from the corner of his eye as she gnawed on her lip.

“B-before the p-petrification.” She whined. Senku paused for a split second, before going right back to work. Had she really waited that long?

“If you keep biting your lip like that, it’ll bleed.” He said, putting his paper down. Y/n’s hands laid flat behind her on the table as Senku spreaded her knees.

“Honestly, it’s your fault for waiting that long.” He mumbled in her ear, stationing himself between her legs, his waist inches away from her throbbing heat. Senku’s hand came up to grip her chin softly, slipping his fingers down her neck.

“I-I tried but I just can’t be q-quiet and-“ Y/n cut herself off when Senku’s hand gripped her neck lightly. Her back arched, moving away from the wall behind her.

“I know you can’t, doll face, that’s why I made sure you can be as loud as you want right now.” He said teasingly, moving his hand up her thigh.

Honestly, Senku had no fucking idea what he was doing. Yeah sure he had studied the female reproductive system, the difference between kinks and fetishes, and even a few nights brought him to the more adult sides of the internet, but he had never done anything physical before. Frankly he had never seen y/n in that way until the day she was revived. Being a hormonal teenager and the tight skimpy dress she wore didn’t mix. So when she was squirming under his touch, breath labored in need, he couldn’t help but get extremely hard.

“Senku~ Ah harder, please.” She whined, her voice breathy. Senku smirked subconsciously, his free hand bunching her dress up on her stomach.

“Harder? I didn’t think you were that kinky, y/n.” He growled, his fingertips ghosting down her stomach. His hand traveled lower until it was stationed between her thighs. Just as his two fingers rubbed over her exposed clit, the hand around her neck tightened. A gasp and a loud whine erupted from her throat, giving him confirmation that he was at least doing something right.

With newfound confidence, Senku massaged her clit with his fingers, rolling it between his index and middle fingers. The bottom portion of his outfit got tighter and tighter as her moans filled his ears.

As soon as his digits were slick enough, he slowly slipped one into her. Y/n gripped the fabric of his top hard as he dug his two fingers deep inside her.

“Senku~” she whined in his ear.

His face was focused as he worked on her, this was an experiment now. How good could he make her feel, how loud could he get her to be?

His expression was broken by a wicked smirk, making y/n clench around his fingers. His hand speeding up, he kneeled down in front of her.

“S-Senku what are y-you~” A choaked moan slipped from her throat as his tounge began to prod at her clit. Immediately her hands flew to his blonde-green hair, tangling her fingers in it so she could mindlessly buck her core into his face. Suddenly his grip on her neck got much tighter, causing her eyes to roll back in hot pleasure.

Y/n was practically screaming his name when began sucking on her bud. The combination of his tongue, his fingers, and the weight on her throat was overwhelming.

“I have to say, you’re 1 billion percent gorgeous when you’re moaning like this for me.” Senku teased against her slick. Even with everything that was going on, she was still able to catch his gaze and flirt back.

“A-And you don’t look too-Ah~ bad yourself between my thighs like th-that.”

She giggled at the red tint on his cheeks. Her giggle soon turned to a moan as he groaned against her. He was loosing himself in the way her arousal dripped down his chin, he didn’t want to stop. This wasn’t just about making sure she could focus anymore, it was his own hormonal need.

He began curling his fingers, hitting a spot inside of her he had only ever read about. His eyes were dark with lust, fluttering everytime y/n yanked it his hair, the pain blooming pleasurably on his scalp.

Y/n could feel something building in the pit of her stomach, something she had never experienced before.

“Hhh Senku I’m gonna~!”

“Just like that doll face, cum for me.” He mumbled. He basked in the way her walls fluttered around his digits, letting him know she was about to release. He swung one of her legs over her shoulder, speeding up his actions and tightening around her throat.

Then suddenly he felt the splash of a warm liquid under his chin. Immediately he detached from her clit, watching the clear liquid gush from her entrance.

Senku was a clean person, sterile like a scientist. But the sight of a pretty girl squirting so hard because of him made him feral. His fingers scissored in and out of her, splashing her release everywhere.

Senku’s hand released her neck, leaning back so he could watch y/n catch her breath. When she opened her eyes, everything was soaked. Her dress, the table, the floor, the papers, even Senku had her arousal all down his shirt and in his hair, even raindropping his eyelashes. He chuckled, standing from his spot on the floor.

“I didn’t think you had all that in you.” He said, dusting off his hands.

“Wait.” Y/n muttered quickly.

“Hm?”

“Well, the others won’t be coming back until you send for them, and I think it’s only fair that I return the favor.” Y/n said playfully. Senku raised an eyebrow at the girl, watching her smirk and flick her vision to the bulge at his hips. He looked down momentarily, then back up with a cocky smirk.

“Well it is only fair...”

[amiedala]

Something More (the mandalorian x reader)

CHAPTER 4: Protectors

Rated: Explicit (we’re FINALLY getting to the actual explicit stuff y’all!)

Warnings: descriptions of violence, mentions of stalking/hunting, descriptions of sexual activity

Summary: “Too bad,” you manage, finally, hoping that your voice doesn’t break, “you protect me, I protect you, give and take, Mando, that’s how this works—”

And then you stop because his hands are on you. So fast. Lightning quick. One grabs at your side, thumb pressing lightly against where your scar bottoms out on the left of your abdomen, the other on the right side of your face, fingers tangled in the mess of your hair. You gasp, shudder, and breathe out as he grabs you. As easily as he squeezes, though, his grip detracts to barely there at all, and he slowly pushes you back against the wall. Every nerve on your body is on fire. You breathe, uneven and desperate, as his grip on your hip trails up your side until he has both big hands cupped against your face.

He’s eclipsing you. All you can see in your line of vision is him, and, peripherally, the distorted reflection of your heaving chest pressed up against the cool beskar, everything swallowed up by him. It’s devastating. It’s everything. You can barely breathe.

You dream about him that night.

Well, you’ve dreamed of him every night. It started when you fell asleep face to face, and now he lives in your head. You think some crucial part of it has been wiped clean simply for the sheer space of memory that’s just him. You don’t even know his name. You don’t know how old he is. You don’t know anything about him except that he’s a Mandalorian, he seems to have had adopted the child, and that he has thrown himself directly in harm’s way for you twice now.

Thoughts like that live on while you sleep. Vibrantly so. Sometimes, the dream changes and you’re on top of him, or those huge hands are inside you, or you hear him gritting out your name through the modulator as he—

Somehow, you always seem to wake up before anything in the dream can finish. It’s maddening, to say the very least. Everything with him seems to overlap until it doesn’t.

It’s been a handful of days since your narrow escape on Coruscant, and both of you have healed from your injuries on the planet’s surface. You haven’t been as close to Mando since you slept face to face that night, his head slipped down on your shoulder. When you had woken in the morning, he was gone, and you frantically searched the entirety of the bottom half of the ship for any trace of him leaving before you heard him playing with the baby up the ladder, and when you ascended into the cockpit, you were back in hyperspace.

You’d been in the air for the most part, only stopping briefly down on planets to refuel and replenish whatever stock of food the three of you needed on the ship. You weren’t sure where you were going next. You don’t even remember asking him where the next planet was, just that you knew you were going somewhere. The two tracking fobs he had left to complete before returning the bounties to the Guild blinked from the dashboard, stuttering out of rhythm ever so slightly. You watched them in the dark, sometimes, when you slept upstairs in the cockpit and tried your best to not let your mind wander to the man sleeping a level below you.

Sometimes, more often than not now, your hands would slip absentmindedly into your pants and you’d find yourself conjuring up the gruffness of the Mandalorian’s voice when you touched yourself. Twice now, you’ve finished to the memory of him saying, “where did he hurt you”, and it’s an instinct so natural you don’t even realize that you’re getting yourself off to the rhythm of his words until you’re done. Once, he climbed the ladder almost immediately after you finished, and you had to wipe the warm slick off your fingers on your pants when he asked you to hold the baby. They’re still stained, and the thought of him noticing it—or walking in on you while you’re in the act—has occupied almost all of your waking hours.

It’s better on ruminating on how narrowly you escaped getting hurt by the thug a few weeks back, or on your mind reliving every single memory of how badly you handled being alone on Coruscant the last time you were there—two thoughts that you tried very hard to push away—until the Mandalorian brings it up, almost a full week later.

“You did good,” he says, and you have no idea what he means. For a split second, you think he’s talking about you touching yourself last night, and you have to stifle a yelp when you ask him what he means. “Back on Coruscant. The ship doesn’t handle easy.”

“Oh,” you say, “thank you. I think the Crest has something against me.”

He doesn’t laugh, but you almost think you’re hearing a lighter voice coming through the modulator. “It’s old.”

“As old as me?”

He looks back at you, and you swear you can feel his gaze locked on you again. “How old are you?”

You swallow. “Twenty-five.”

The Mandalorian keeps his visor on you for a second, and then turns back to the front, focusing on the space you’re hurtling through.

“The ship is older than you,” he confirms.

“Explains why it’s so cranky.”

He looks back at you, and you giggle. A few moments pass, and he says, “so am I.”

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do with that information, quite honestly. Are you supposed to ask him how old he is? Maybe he’s seventy under the armor. Until you saw his stomach back on Coruscant, you often wondered if he looked exactly like the baby under there, or if he was a Quarren or a Gungan or something else entirely alien.

It takes you a minute, but you finally ask, “Are you younger than the ship?”

“No.”

“Are you twice the ship’s age?”

The Mandalorian looks back at you again, and if you weren’t hurtling through hyperspace and the Razor Crest wasn’t mostly running on autopilot, you would have cracked a joke about distracted driving.

“No.”

“But you’re older than the baby,” you joke.

He pauses again. “The kid is fifty.”

“What?” you shriek, and turn, betrayed, to the little green child hovering innocently in his egg next to you. He coos. You look back and forth between them, incredulous, and then a laugh filters out of the modulator.

“I don’t know how he ages. But he’s definitely still a baby.”

“Maker,” you say, still flummoxed. “Baby, you don’t look a day over thirty.” He coos at you, and you grin, folding your knees up to your chest in the chair.

“The kid is older than me,” Mando says, and then all attention is on him again.

“Well,” you manage, “then we’re working with a gap of twenty-five years.”

It seems the conversation is over, and you’ve been preoccupied with the kid, when Mando finally speaks again.

“I don’t know,” he says, and you look at him, curious, confused, “how old I am exactly.”

You’re about to ask what he means when the ship lurches again, and both of you are thrown sideways. You had strapped yourself in this time. You didn’t want a repeat of Coruscant, in any capacity. The way the Crest handled was atrocious. It was an old, cantankerous piece of junk, and it seemed to defy every other order either of you gave it. It also decided to blindside you out of nowhere, which was… well, it was like both your dirty subconscious and your conversations with Mando that teetered on something more, right before you hit the impact. Mando hauled the navigation drive up, and suddenly you were all right side up again.

“What was that?” You manage, blowing rogue hair out of your face.

He pointed. “Asteroid field.”

You squinted out the window. “Where are we?”

The Mandalorian was silent for a minute, and you didn’t push him. You weren’t in any rush for him to leave again, if you were being quite honest with yourself, and were soaking in all the tiny moments of the two of you cohabitating the ship for as long as you possibly could.

“Jakku.”

You hadn’t ever been on Jakku. You knew that it was a dry, hot wasteland like Tatooine, but that all the Rebel connections here had dried up over the years, and it had lots of small outposts where scavengers could bring practically anything dug up from the sand to make a little money. It was also worlds away from Coruscant, which was probably why it had taken so long to get here. Truthfully, it sounded dangerous in ways that you’d always feared the heat for, and your stomach flipped over a little in the recognition that he was probably going to leave again. You had been so spoiled with the last few missions—they had taken hours, and not one had swallowed up a full day, let alone weeks. He had warned you when you first joined that he could be gone for a week if he were tracking someone particularly difficult to locate, and the small sadness that pained in your gut when you barely knew Mando was a blip compared to the wrench you felt whenever he left your line of sight now. Seeing him get hurt, having to pull him back from that—you hated it. You hated knowing that he wasn’t infallible, regardless of that big shiny armor and the combination of his stealth and quickness. You wanted to tell him it, sometimes, that you hated seeing him leave, but there was still that anxious twang that came attached to how deeply you felt every single interaction, how you make things out of nothing, and you don’t think you could take it if he ever rejected you.

“Is the bounty…difficult?”

Mando seems to deliberately not hear your question, and something flares deep inside you, allowing you to pretend his resistance is because he doesn’t want to admit he doesn’t want to leave you, either, but you swallow and try to be patient.

“Not as difficult as the last one.”

“How dangerous is he?”

Mando takes a second with that one, too, and you aren’t prepared for him to turn towards you. His visor pauses on you, just for a moment, and you offer up a half smile. You have no idea if he’s reciprocating under the mask, when he finally answers.

“She’s nothing I can’t handle.”

She? That tiny, betrayed part of your mind screams, and you have to fight the urge to physically kick away your jealousy. He’s hunting her. Hunting her down, whoever she is, and bringing her back to the ship in shackles. Stop it, you chastise yourself, what, do you want him to hunt you down? Get it together.

Yes, your traitorous, primal possessiveness taunts. Yes, you want him to hunt you.

Maker. You were going to have to square up with this needy, animalistic part of yourself the second Mando left. You were going to kick its ass, because this was absolutely ridiculous—you still hadn’t responded to his last comment.

“You’re objectively…better than her, right?”

He looks back at you. “Expand.”

“You aren’t going to get shot again?”

Mando’s gaze fixates on you yet again. You swallow dry air.

“A blaster’s not really her speed.”

What did that mean?

The baby babbles. He’s reaching out his tiny green fingers for the ball that rests, perennially unscrewed, on top of one of the levers. Absentmindedly, Mando pops it off and hands it to him. The baby coos as he plays with it, trying to teethe on its smooth metal surface. You watch him as he finds so much joy from one small object, not paying attention to how quickly the Crest is dropping onto Jakku’s wasteland surface.

You don’t say much. Mando doesn’t say anything. If you try hard, really hard, you can imagine that he’s regretting leaving you and the kid as much as you’re dreading it. You don’t know why you can’t voice any of this out loud. It should be easy, by now, you’ve pretty much become a permanent fixture here. He fell asleep with his head on your shoulder, your fingers intertwined, a few nights ago. He’s offering voluntary information about himself to you now, which is a complete 180 from how stoic in his silence he was when he first brought you on board. He offered up safe delivery out of Nevarro and then refused to let you leave the ship anywhere dangerous. He let you fix a wound on his bare skin—something you know goes against the rumored Mandalorian creed. There’s all these signs, blinking and humming in the back of your mind, that the way you feel around him—something earned, something real, something more—is mutual. You know you attach big stakes to everything, that you think the galaxy has been leaving you signs, when there’s no higher power orienting you to some elevated purpose. But the way the air burns around him, how right you feel with Mando and the baby…you’d bet your life that he felt it too.

Even just a fraction. Even just in the back of his mind.

When you make your landing, the ship stubbornly creaks into the uneven sand, and you’re glad you’re still strapped in. The Crest had it out for you. You loved it in the way you’d love an old house—broken and creaky around the edges, but warm enough to still call home. The Mandalorian didn’t ask you to follow him down the ladder this time, but you did anyway, out of some habit you’re trying to force. The baby toddles around the lower deck as he flings himself to his father’s shoes, and you scrunch up your lips to the side, a sore attempt at mimicking his expression. You can’t ask Mando not to leave. This is his job. You’re lucky he didn’t let you get taken out by either of the men that tried to hurt you, or leave you for dead on Nevarro, or kick you out on Coruscant.

But stars, you want to.

Somehow, he breaks the silence first. “I’ll be back within a few days.”

Your heart sinks. “Days?”

He looks at you, the visor suddenly impenetrable. “She’s dodgy. I’m not expecting to be gone more than three.”

“What if you are?”

Silence swells up in the air around you both. Your amateur handling of the Razor Crest on the last planet was only possible because you barely had to get anywhere. Jakku was huge, and incredibly desolate, and you didn’t trust yourself enough to figure out exactly where Mando was if there was a dire emergency. And he’d never told you what kind of quarry he was tracking before, which gave you a sinking suspicion that he wasn’t confident that he’d come back completely unscathed.

“Here,” he says, finally. His voice is softer through the modulator. He hands you the commlink again, and you wrap it around your wrist, intentional. “Remember—”

“Only for emergencies?” you interrupt, and give him a soft smile. You can be lenient. You can pretend that you won’t be staring at it for days on end, waiting for his deep voice to crackle across the stars to you.

“Good girl.”

He turns, quickly, like ripping off a bandage, which is probably for the best, because you don’t want him to see your knees going weak at his two words, or how that heat he gives you rushed deep down in between your thighs, warm and wet enough to line your underwear. You stand there, mouth open, just gaping at his retreating figure as he walks out into the sand.

The baby pulls at your leg, and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to yank your jaw off the floor and pay attention to him. He’s started begging for lullabies now, with his big bug eyes, and so you oblige, singing past the devastation and tingling that the Mandalorian has left behind in his wake until the kid is finally asleep. You think he does it so much to self-soothe when his daddy leaves, because he’s usually always awake in his presence. You usually don’t like when the little guy fades off when it’s just the two of you, because at least while he’s awake you can talk out loud to him and not feel like you’re going crazy being cooped up inside the ship, but right now…right now, you have other priorities.

You make sure that the kid is sleeping soundly, and you walk up the ladder as quietly as you can, trying to get snug under your blankets in the makeshift bed you’ve made in the corner, and when you finally get yourself comfortable, you play the words good girl over and over again in your mind while you slip your fingers down your pants and into the slick between your legs. You try to picture him in your mind, the way he looks under that mask, his eyes trained on you—what color were they?—and rub tight little circles to the sound of his voice, etched in your memory.

Nothing comes. You can feel it building inside you, that gold rush that sends sparks down your body when you usually orgasm, but right now, it’s like you’re teetering right on the edge. You throw your head back in desperation, in frustration, and you remove your shaking hand for just a second to refocus on him, and when your fingers return to your clit you think this is it, this has to be it—Nothing.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you exclaim, pressing both hands to your eyes as if the stars to explode there instead. You can feel it building, still, even while there’s absolutely nothing in the way, and no matter what happens, you can’t cum.

You’re frustrated. You’re very frustrated. In every version of the word. You huff, yanking up your pants too roughly and pacing around the ship’s dark hull. This is all you’ve wanted for days, this small moment of release, and he just gave you the words to get yourself off by just thinking about it, and…nothing? Really?

You pace and then slide back down the ladder. Maybe you can get outside, just for a few seconds, feel the heat on your face, and maybe that’ll force it to come somewhere else, and you’re tiptoeing past the baby and getting your blaster from the armory, and then you pass the alcove where Mando’s cot is hidden away in, and you’re about to open the airlock—

Wait. Mando’s bed.

Your heart catches in your chest, skips a couple beats. This is not good. This is wrong. This is a horrible, dirty, depraved, very bad idea.

But before you can stop yourself, you’ve pressed your trembling fingers to the button that reveals his bed, and the doors fly open. You throw yourself in quickly, as if that’ll lessen the impact, and you throw yourself down on your back, looking at the ceiling.

It’s so dark in here. It smells like him. It’s like his soap has scrubbed down the bed, the way it’s wafting through the air. In here, it’s like a holding chamber. If you close your eyes hard enough, you can imagine he’s right there with you, his body large and uncloaked of armor, his skin exposed everywhere but the helmet, his hands on your hips while you’re straddling him like you did the other day to patch up his wound, him saying good girl as he moves inside you—

Well. Your fingers didn’t even have to slip back into your pants for you to cum this time.

You bite down on the back of your hand as it ripples through you, your ears absolutely deafened by the way your body vibrates like static. You clap your other hand over the one you’ve sunk your teeth into to simply drown out the sound in hopes that it’ll recede.

It takes probably five minutes. You sit there, in complete darkness, shell-shocked. The embarrassment and the shame you feel of getting off in someone else’s bed doesn’t even compare to the feeling of doing it. Maker, you’re going to bad places when you die. Bad, dark, awful places. The internal chastising you’re trying valiantly to give yourself fades off into the background as you relive it over and over, imagining him telling you you’re a good girl again, back in this bed, wearing considerably less, when he comes back to you. Visions of him telling he’ll never leave you again dance through your head when, suddenly, you fade off into nothing.

  You didn’t mean to fall asleep. You don’t remember doing it.

But you wake up, and you’re still in Mando’s bed. You’ve pulled his blanket up around your shoulders, and it’s rough and tattered compared to yours, but you don’t even care. Your skin easily irritates when it’s against fabric that hurts, but you’ll take on the rash for this. You are so snug, so warm, and then it hits you that you’re sleeping in his bed, the same bed that you came all over last night, and you sit up in a panic.

You check the sheets, and there’s no mess. You haven’t really disturbed the bed at all, really, come to think of it. You lay back down, still groggy with sleep. He said he was going to take a few days. There’s no reason why you couldn’t sleep here tonight, too, maybe you’d even take the baby in here with you—

The baby. You shoot back up in a panic, suddenly completely awake. When you throw open the door, and launch yourself out of the bed, you find him toddling around on the floor, with that little silver ball he loves so much in his adorable stubby fingers.

“Baby.”

He turns to look at you, making noises of recognition when you fall out of his father’s bed, and you pick him up, swinging his tiny green body through the air.

He coos at you, pulling on the blanket that is somehow still around your shoulders. Dank ferrik. That wasn’t supposed to come with you. You gingerly pry it from his grip. He looks at you, back at the blanket that’s been put back into the alcove, and then his big eyes well up and he starts to cry.

“No,” you whisper, and then, louder, “no, it’s okay, baby! You don’t need to cry! I’ll—here, I’ll sing you some nice little tunes, and we can dance—”

At this, he wails even harder, and you wipe away the array of tears with your free hand. He claws towards something, and you pull him into your chest before you realize he wants the blanket. You pull it back out and drape it around his tiny body. “Hey, bug, it’s okay.” You swaddle him the best you can, and then he wipes his tiny nose against the tattered thing, and you try to pull it away before you realize he’s not wiping his nose. He’s sniffing the blanket. The blanket that smells like his dad. And, more recently, you.

“It’s okay,” you say, soothingly, swinging him from side to side, bringing those big eyes in towards the crook of your shoulder. He clings to it, just a little, but it’s enough to know he wants to stay nestled up there. “You miss your daddy, huh, sweetness?”

He coos, muffled, against your neck.

“Me too,” you admit, with no one but the kid and the dark hull of the Crest to hear you.

  Another day passes. Then another. You’re starting to go a little stir crazy. If Jakku didn’t scare you, you would have gone outside and taken the baby for a little walk, but you’re still nervous, jumpy leftovers from the last man who had boarded the ship, not to mention that it’s a desert, foreboding wasteland everywhere you could possibly go. You bring him outside at least once a day, though, not even fully on the ground, just down the gangplank, so that you can both have some fresh air and touch something that isn’t shiny metal or whatever scraps of food you’ve been feeding to you both.

You like the baby. Love him. He rocks. He’s the cutest thing in the entire world. You had sworn off starting a family back when your parents died, because missing them hurt too much and you didn’t want another possibility to make that hurt permanent, but you would sign adoption papers tomorrow if you meant you got to care for the little one forever. His dad was just the bonus, you’d almost convinced yourself, to satiate that hungry, aching, nervous pit in your stomach that grows bigger and bigger every hour Mando’s still not back.

You’ve cleaned the interior of the ship. Three times. Yesterday, you used the fresher twice, simply for the acoustics of that room, so you could sing and pretend you were giving a show at a cantina, and okay, maybe a little bit for the smell of Mando’s soap on your skin.

His bed is much more uncomfortable than the nest you’d been sleeping in on the floor, but it smells like him, and it’s warm, and if you close your eyes and push up against the wall, you can imagine it’s him in the beskar enough to get you to sleep. Worry aside, you’ve slept better the past two nights than you have in what feels like years. It’s partly because you’re imagining he’s there, partly because you know you’re safe in here, and partly because this place feels more like home than any other one you’ve ever belonged to.

You’re starting to get worried, though. You know he insisted that the commlink was only for emergencies, and you didn’t want to distract him on his mission. Or bother him, more likely, the Mandalorian wasn’t a man who got distracted easily, but still, you thought about it. Distracting him. The baby wakes up sometimes, and you pretend to be completely engrossed in attending to his every need, because when he falls asleep or shows more interest in his ball than you, the silence and fear creeps back in.

Another day passes before you’ve gone on long enough without hearing word.

“Hey,” you whisper into the commlink. You’re in his bed. Again. You’re not proud of it, but you can’t pry yourself from it. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but—it’s been four days, and she’s dangerous, and I—the baby misses you.”

You press the button. You hope that’s sufficient. You just sit there, staring at the artificial light in the darkness, tummy flipping over every second that passes where you don’t hear from him.

It’s been full minutes, and you lay back down. You pull his itchy blanket up to your shoulder, huddle on your side. You’ll keep your wrist next to you in sleep, so he can talk in your ear and wake you up if he needs to—

“Are you there?”

His voice is quiet. Through the modulator and the link, you have to strain your ears in the vibrating nothingness to make out the shape of his words.

“I’m here,” you answer. It spills out of you, too fast.

“No emergencies,” he says, and you can feel your cheeks flush with the reprimand before you realize it sounds more like reassurance.

“No emergencies here either,” you manage. “The baby is still as cute as ever. You parked near a good radio station. I’ve been singing to him—”

“Careful,” he warns, and your heartbeat quickens before you can ask what. “The first word that comes out of his mouth is going to be sung, not spoken.”

You giggle, the air cutting through the darkness. “Would that be so bad?”

He’s silent for a minute, and you relax back into his pillow, the commlink pressed up against your face.

“I don’t think I could handle having both of you singing,” he says, and his voice rumbles through you in a way you can’t place until you remember the baby is fifty and hasn’t even spoken his first word yet. The Mandalorian is signing on for years with you, then, maybe full-on decades, maybe for life, with how slowly the kid progresses—you have to bite down on your lip.

“Maybe I’ll shut up when he starts.”

You can hear him shifting. He’s still so quiet. You wonder where he is. You wonder if he’s gotten close to his bounty yet, if she’s anywhere near him—that unfairly jealous part of you roils in your belly, and you push your fist into it as if to shove back the unreasonable thought.

“That’d be a shame,” he finally says.

“Do you like my singing?”

He’s quiet again. You listen through the silence. He speaks so sporadically, it shouldn’t surprise you, but being in anticipation of what comes next is almost as good as the words themselves. “I like your voice.”

Your voice. That could mean anything. That could mean your singing in the shower or the questions you ask him or the way he makes you giggle or the way you’d moan out his name, if you were ever lucky enough to learn it—you realize you haven’t spoken. “I like yours, too.”

He’s quiet. He doesn’t speak again. You know how late it is. “Have you slept?” you ask, quietly, just in case he’s fallen asleep.

“A bit.” You can hear him adjusting. “I’m close to town. I tracked her here.”

You nod, forgetting he can’t see you. “When do you think you’ll be ba—will have completed the mission?” you ask. You bite your lip in the surrounding silence.

“By sunrise,” he says. “You better fall asleep. I want you both awake when I return to the ship.”

Your stomach flips over in excitement, then in dread. “Do I have to hide from her?”

He’s silent. You slide your thumbnail between your teeth, breath bated in anticipation of his answer.

“Just be ready,” he finally says. “Don’t hide unless I tell you to.”

“I’ll anticipate it,” you counter. “I’ll be awake at sunrise.”

“Set an alarm.” His voice is quick, but you can feel the lightness to it. “Or three.”

“I’ll have you know,” you say sleepily, “that I can be wide awake at the first alarm when I need to be—”

“And,” he adds, interrupting you, “stay near my bed in case you do need to hide.”

Before you can say anything in response to that, the link clicks off. You’re in the darkness, again, that swell in your legs, the buzzing in your ears, the excitement in your heart. The last thing you remember before you fall back asleep is, he’s coming home.

  Your name comes from seemingly nowhere, and you jolt up from where you’ve been sleeping. Very comfortably. You wipe sleep from your eyes as you fumble around from the source of it.

It’s the commlink. Of course.

“I’m here,” you manage, through your very groggy morning voice.

“I’m almost back.”

You dig a heel of your hand into your eye before all the moving parts click together in your mind. That’s Mando’s voice, and it must be close to sunrise, because if he’s heading back, he’s definitely got the bounty.

“I—where should I go?”

You don’t hear anything for a long moment, and you hurriedly slide out of his bed, trying to arrange the blanket and pillow in the same formation that it was before you defiled it, and can’t remember enough what it looked like almost five days before but you hope that Mando’s memory has been distracted enough by his hunt that he won’t notice. You find the baby, place him back in his egg, and shake your head firmly when he gives you his big eyes pleading to get down.

“Where are you?”

You sleepily survey your surroundings. “I am against the wall.”

He sighs. “Which wall?”

“The one across from the fresher. Near your bed.” You feel your cheeks flush with that admission, even though he can’t possibly know that you’ve holed up in there since he’s been gone.

“And the baby?”

“He’s beside me.” You pull your gun out, too, and loosely holster it in the belt around your leg. “And I have my blaster.”

“Good,” he says, and no girl follows it, and despite the circumstances, you feel a twang of sadness.

“How close are you?”

The link goes silent. Again. It’s become his modus operandi to just leave you in the lurch, right when you’re on the edge of the conversation, and while it’s hard to get frustrated with him when that pull of sureness inside you is always tuned to the highest frequency, you want to whine about it.

You cut yourself off. Nope. He’s bringing back a bounty. You cannot get distracted, not now, no matter how bad you want him. Not the time. On a whim, you run into the fresher and you splash water on your face, enough to wake you up and keep you alert.

There’s a noise outside the ship, and you immediately push the baby’s floating cradle behind you, fingers on your blaster. You could handle whatever was happening. You actually had your fingers on something tangible, and you were a good shot when it came down to it.

It turns out, the reason why the Mandalorian didn’t tell you how soon he’d be coming back because he was already pretty much there. You tense, then relax upon the first glimpse of the beskar on his helmet you got, and then tens again when the gangplank is lowered down to the hot sand of Jakku.

She…looks dangerous. She’s a Twi’lek. Long, and slim, a very dangerous shade of purple. The first thing you notice isn’t how alien she looks in comparison to the sand around the gangplank, or how she moves with a confident, seductive swagger, but the way her tongue dances in circles around her teeth. Her canines are sharp, pointed, hungry.

You didn’t scare easily. You had worked hundreds of jobs with people who had every intention to double-cross and discard you. You faced off against the intruder on the ship with your only instinct to protect the baby in mind, not your own safety. That’s why Mando had brought you aboard.

But you look at her, and you’re scared. It’s her teeth and the way her eyes lock onto you, immediately, dangerously, like she knows she could intimidate you. And then probably flog you within an inch of your life and leave you for dead. You’d been there before. You knew how it looked.

“What do we have here?” she purrs, turning around to face Mando. He shoves her, once, roughly, and she steps forward so that his blow won’t hit as hard, tongue tracing the outline of her teeth. “You got yourself a little pet.”

Your eyes glance in fear to the baby, but the way he looks back at you makes you realize that she was talking about you, not the kid. You thumb your blaster, stepping forward, trying to remain impervious.

“Hello, there,” she whispers, and you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You didn’t want to look away from her—you can just tell, instinctually, that she could strike instantaneously, just lying in wait for a moment of weakness—but you can’t help it. You look at Mando, hoping your raised eyebrow signals your fear and your level of discomfort, and the way his visor locks on you is enough to know he had calculated the risk and knew he could beat her. His hand is still outstretched, slightly, as she meanders over to you.

“Look, Mando,” she hisses, pointing back and forth between the two of you. Instinctually, you push the baby’s cradle back even further, putting your full hand on your blaster. You glance up at him again, and then catch a flash in the low light of the ship, and realize she’s handcuffed. Even shackled, though, you can see how her sharp teeth glint, how her eyes hold venom you’d never even seen. “Have you taken your helmet off for her yet?”

He stands there. You have absolutely no idea what you were in the middle of, but suddenly, it felt like you were the outsider here, not her. Your stomach flipped over with the possibilities. Had he taken his helmet off for the bounty? Had he betrayed his creed for her? You swallow, grit your teeth, loading your tongue behind them just in case whatever she gave you next could be responded to.

“She’s pretty,” she appraises, tongue finding her canine, and before you can react, she lunges close to your face, close enough that you can feel the hot wash of air, clicking her teeth menacingly right in front of your nose. You don’t jump, but the flinch of closing your eyes felt bad enough. You knew it was the wrong move the second your eyes squeezed shut. “Aw, look at that.” She sniffs. You don’t move. “She scares like a little Ewok, Mando, is that why you keep her locked away on the ship—"

Suddenly, a flash of beskar moves through the air between you two, and the Twi’lek is snapped back, recoiling and hissing at how hard he hit her.

“I don’t need to remind you that I have no issue bringing you in cold.”

You recoil at that, how detached and distorted his voice seems. You know that the modulator evens it out, for the most part, and that you tend to imagine his voice comes out softer and warmer to you than anyone else. But right now? Right now, his voice is stone cold. He sounds murderous. Dangerous. Scary. The kind of threat that scared off the man on Nevarro. The kind of threat that you know he gives to his bounties. The kind of threat he’s never once showed to you.

You swallow.

“I dare you,” the Twi’lek says, and she turns from you, just for a second, to slide up to him. So much of her skin is reflected in the beskar that it’s turning the entirety of the interior of the Crest purple. “Try to kill me. We both know you need me, whether you like it or not, that I’m still the best you’ve ever had—”

Before you can react, before you can do anything, the Mandalorian has a knife against her throat. You have no idea where it comes from. You want to react, to say something, to not sit there bumbling like a faulty droid, but you’ve got nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

“Slice me with my knife,” she whispers, taunting him. “Do it. Put on a show for your little weakling girlfriend behind me and kill me. We both know you can’t—”

You unfreeze, suddenly, so quickly that you don’t realize what you’re doing, until you yank her slender shoulder back away from the knife Mando has in his grip and shove her headfirst into the carbonite chamber. She howls, but you press the button—that’s your one move, slamming your hands against things and miraculously making them work in the moment of truth—and her terrifying, hungry face gets swallowed up in the gas. You shove her backwards—well, the block of her—so that it slams into the other bounties that have been frozen in time in between your last trip to Nevarro, and it’s only when you’re sure she’s completely immobilized that you finally exhale, hands on your knees, chest heaving. The world around you is spinning. You check your arms and throat frantically, just to make sure she didn’t nick you with something sharp while you were frozen.

When your breathing regulates, and all your bumps and bruises only tally up evenly to the ones you had before today, you look up at Mando. He’s seemingly stuck, too, the sharp knife still in his gloved hand, completely immobile. You tap his outstretched hand to be sure you didn’t accidentally catch him with your fairly heroic carbonite rescue, and he only becomes responsive to your touch on his gloved one.

“Hey,” you say, softly, to not startle him anymore, “I’m okay—are you? Are you okay?”

“Thank you,” he says, gruffly, his fingers still clenched tight around the knife that came out of nowhere, and you just know that underneath his glove, his knuckles are white. You can hear it in his voice.

“What—oh. You’re welcome. I’m sorry I didn’t react sooner, that I let her go on like that—”

“I was going to kill her.” Even through the modulator, you can hear there’s something complicating his voice. You move forward, gently, trying to pry his fingers off the knife. Your body is so close to his, your neck straining as you look up from his hand to his helmet. You don’t know why this is so difficult for him to reconcile, when you’ve seen him take out at least twenty people, easily, since you came aboard. You don’t like the killing, but you understand his necessity, sometimes, and his disconnect from it. It’s what he does, it’s his job, his survival. You don’t know why this one was so different. “If you didn’t—I was going to slit her throat.”

You’re the one who’s silent, now. You have absolutely no idea what to say, especially considering that him needing solace over the thought of killing someone—not even actually killing them—is completely foreign to you. You inhale, exhale, and then take a half-step closer, moving his last finger off the knife. “You didn’t,” you whisper, earnest, slipping the knife out of his grip and reaching in closely behind him to put it safely in the armory. “You didn’t.”

He looks at you. Up and down. It’s dark in here, but you can track his visor. You have absolutely no idea what’s going on behind it. Despite all of this, despite the way you had both been moving in sync lately, despite how you felt the magnetic pull of the universe with him, he just went radio silent. None of this seemed in character. For the first time since you met him, you felt like you were in over your head.

“I was going to,” he repeats, and you nod, slowly. “She’s not worth anything to the Guild dead, but I would have done it in a second—”

“—You didn’t,” you interrupt, enunciating each syllable, “it’s okay, you can turn her in frozen like that, and we can get far away from her, you don’t have to be—”

“—to protect you.”

You come to a full stop, breath catching in your throat.

“I would have spilled her guts all over the floor in front of you—in front of my kid—to protect you. And then you protected me instead.”

You can feel your mouth falling open in shock. The baby, funnily enough, has decided to move his floating egg upstairs, and you’re glad he’s getting out of the line of fire. You swallow, looking back at Mando. “I did.”

“That’s not your job.”

You have whiplash. His voice has gone from detached to emotional to brash. You have no idea what you’re supposed to say to that, to say to any of this. You feel a familiar, dizzying rush, the beginnings of tears pinpricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Too bad,” you manage, finally, hoping that your voice doesn’t break, “you protect me, I protect you, give and take, Mando, that’s how this works—”

And then you stop because his hands are on you. So fast. Lightning quick. One grabs at your side, thumb pressing lightly against where your scar bottoms out on the left of your abdomen, the other on the right side of your face, fingers tangled in the mess of your hair. You gasp, shudder, and breathe out as he grabs you. As easily as he squeezes, though, his grip detracts to barely there at all, and he slowly pushes you back against the wall. Every nerve on your body is on fire. You breathe, uneven and desperate, as his grip on your hip trails up your side until he has both big hands cupped against your face.

He’s eclipsing you. All you can see in your line of vision is him, and, peripherally, the distorted reflection of your heaving chest pressed up against the cool beskar, everything swallowed up by him. It’s devastating. It’s everything. You can barely breathe.

“That’s not your job,” he repeats, but now his voice is almost as ragged as yours is, and so you nod.

His helmet comes forward, slightly, and he presses it into your forehead. “What is my job?” you squeak out, trying to not go cross-eyed as you try to catch any glimpse of his eyes under the visor. You can’t, so you close yours, in desperate anticipation.

He removes his helmet from against your forehead, and you sway forward, already missing his grip against you, until, suddenly, his head is in the hollow of your neck. Your breathing hitches again. You try your very best to not imagine what his voice would sound like without the modulator, what his lips would feel like pressed up against your skin, when his hand drops from your chin and trails back down your body, past your scar, past the bruises on your belly, and then it pauses.

“To take mine,” he grits out, his voice swelling up against the skin of your ear, and then your body slumps against the wall, and before you can beg for it, for anything, his hand rises, meeting you in the middle, fingers fitting perfectly between your thighs.

***

IF YOU WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST FOR EVERY CHAPTER, PLEASE REPLY TO THIS POST OR SEND ME AN ASK WITH YOUR URL! i’m not sure exactly how to do this, so i will try my very best to get it up and running from here on out (and if anyone has any advice send me an ask or DM me!) <3 

(and if you don’t want to be on the taglist and i’ve tagged you here, please just message me!)

TAGLIST: @myheartisaconstellation | @fuuckyeahdad | @pedrodaddypascal | @misslexilouwho | @theoddcafe | @roxypeanut | @lousyventriloquist | @ilikethoseodds | @strawberryflavourss | @fanomando

CHAPTER 5 COMING SATURDAY JANUARY 23RD EST!!!! i hope y’all enjoy!!!

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: infinitely varied Ship: obikin Summary: Sometimes your husband decides to develop an artificial intelligence capable of free choice and something called a soul and succeeds in the middle of a Thursday night. Or, more concretely: he's in the middle of succeeding because said intelligence first has to learn how to speak.Also known as Obi-Wan and Anakin teach a tiny program called A.H.S.O.K.A. how to be something more than lines of code via the power of linguistics. AN: Happy birthday @ghostwriterofthemachine

Language is a process of free creation; its laws and principles are fixed, but the manner in which the principles of generation are used is free and infinitely varied. Even the interpretation and use of words involves a process of free creation.

Noam Chomsky

I.

Life was a query of expectations, margins on doorframes, bucket lists, first loves, broken hearts, and happy middles because only fools would settle for a happy ending when they had so many decades left to live. The thought never failed to bring a smile to Anakin’s face, no matter how frustrated, remembering the simple way Obi-Wan had proposed. There had been no fancy dinner, particularly stunning outing, or anything resembling outlandish romantic gestures. Anakin would have appreciated them because every act would have been colored by Obi-Wan’s love, but now, older and wiser than the rash youth who’s fallen in love at first heated debate, he preferred the way their proposal had actually gone down. A quiet Sunday morning, eating breakfast together on the sofa while the news droned in the background from Anakin’s old radio, a hesitant “I don’t need forever, but I want the present”.

And, well, for all his genius, Anakin could be a bit of an idiot sometimes, but not when it came to this.

Married life was interesting.

Somehow nothing changed, except also everything. They had bought a real house, moved out of their old apartment and made more compromises than Anakin had ever thought himself capable of, for they hadn’t been like fighting an uphill battle but dancing together. It had made him happy to paint the entrance hall in the shade of green Obi-Wan preferred if he got to paint the kitchen in the light blue he wanted.

Obi-Wan got the attic for his office where his antique book collection looked right at home, and Anakin got the basement where the hum of his servers and the generator powering them annoyed nobody else.

It was as close to white-picket-fence as it could be with two queer men, no kids, a bratty cat, and an anxious dog under one roof. His childhood self would be appalled to see how much Anakin, always the whirlwind, had settled. To a nine-year-old, Anakin probably looked very adult.

Anakin, however, did not feel very grown-up, banging his head against his desk in the middle of the night. Obi-Wan had gone to sleep hours ago, and so had Anakin until inspiration had struck and he’d snuck out of bed to return to his favorite project.

A.H.S.O.K.A may not be a child, but Anakin certainly could relate to exhausted parents when they complained about their children in endless repetitions. To this day, Anakin didn’t know why his mother figured it would be great parenting to encourage her WarGames obsessed kid to dig into the world of artificial intelligence when WOPR nearly started a nuclear war, but he’d forever remain thankful.

Or, he’d resume being thankful when he could finally get A.H.S.O.K.A to learn. He’d rewritten her code a thousand times. It was his ever-constant companion, from his first awful-looking early 2000s website to its current incarnation. A.H.S.O.K.A could solve simple logic puzzles, given that he fed her enough data. Her solutions to tasks could be downright hilarious, but they were not enough. He wanted her to be smarter, better, capable of gaining true understanding.

Perhaps, it was a dream for the future and not a Thursday night.

Anakin didn’t have any work tomorrow morning as he worked as a freelancer, so he could afford to pull an all-nighter. But his dear husband had planned a nice afternoon for them, so Anakin should call it a night or a morning as a glance at the clock told him.

Staring at the many lines of code again, Anakin sighed and leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his by-now cold tea. Obi-Wan would definitely complain that Anakin had snatched his favorite mug once he got up and couldn’t find it in the kitchen. Anakin had bought it at the last linguistic convention Obi-Wan had taken him to.

Language is a process of free invention, it read in delicate cursive before the rest of the quote disassembled in pure chaos.

Huh.

Now there was a thought. Anakin got out of his chair and left the basement, haunted by fixed principles and infinite combinations. Up in the attic, carrying Obi-Wan’s computer downstairs again, Anakin thought on interpretations and free creations. He was as giddy and nervous as he’d been on the morning of his wedding day, which had started similarly early. Connecting Obi-Wan’s computer, and more importantly, the priced result of his thesis, to Anakin’s server felt a little like unwrapping birthday presents.

language_acquisition_prediction.exe

Enter.

II.

Obi-Wan was not surprised when he woke to an empty bed. Anakin had a habit of suddenly pulling all-nighters or getting up early before the sun even thought of rising. Given that he couldn’t smell breakfast yet, Obi-Wan deduced that Anakin had pulled an all-nighter again. He slowly crawled out of bed to avoid disturbing Artoo and Threepio sleeping to his feet. Obi-Wan was pretty sure he shared his bed more often with his pets than he did with his husband.

He walked down the stairs to the ground level and went by the kitchen to prepare himself a cup of tea. To his displeasure, Obi-Wan couldn’t find his favorite mug and so had to settle for another. After another thought, he decided to make a second one for Anakin, lavender this time so Anakin would hopefully crash after breakfast. He put both mugs on a small tray together with a couple tomatoes. Obi-Wan usually wasn’t one for eating a full breakfast on workdays – that was the influence of Anakin and his mother’s kitchen – but he was the expert in smalltime snacks. With both in hand, he walked down the second flight of stairs, down to the basement. As expected, he found Anakin at his desk, clinging to what was bound to be a cold cup, staring intensely at his screens, which were running one program or another.

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan greeted him and kissed Anakin’s cheek.

“Mo-orning,” Anakin replied, a yawn interrupting him halfway. “Wait, what time is it?”

“Eight,” Obi-Wan said. “How long have you been up?”

“Uuuh.” Obi-Wan didn’t need to see Anakin’s face to know the answer. “Did you even go to sleep?”

“I did sleep for a while!” Anakin argued. “But then I had an idea, I mean, look at this!”

Obi-Wan gave the screens a closer look. Despite common misconceptions, he was not technically illiterate. Privately, he blamed the fact that Anakin was quite well known for his tech know-how and Obi-Wan tended to talk more about literature given that he was filling in as a lecturer in the British Lit. department. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan had gotten his professorship with a program he’d written, and the code currently displayed on the screens looked very similar to a section that had given him stress nightmares. “Is that my thesis?” he asked.

“Yes, sorta, partially?” Anakin replied. “I kind of took it apart a lot and maybe corrupted it a bit, but that’s not the important part! Look what she’s doing with it.”

She could only refer to one person, intelligence. There were a few constants in their life, their new house the most recent one, and Ahsoka was probably the longest. Obi-Wan didn’t know why Anakin hadn’t set her aside already, he was happy enough to leave other started-never-finished projects lying around, but the last time he’d even just suggested such, Anakin had looked heartbroken.

Obi-Wan looked at the screen Anakin was pointing at and began to read.

script input: inhibition auditory input 1 designation skyguy: /ˌɪn.ɪˈbɪʃ.ən/ auditory input 2 designation professor: /ˌɪn.hɪˈbɪʃ.ən/ analysis: mismatch diagnosis: outstanding

script input: better auditory input 1 designation skyguy: /ˈbet̬.ɚ/ auditory input 2 designation professor: /ˈbet.ər/ analysis: mismatch diagnosis: rhoticism? query: define

The text continued for a while, though apparently Ahsoka only picked out the mismatched parts in her analysis.

“Is that ‘Must have done something right’?” Obi-Wan asked, the connection between the words suddenly starting to make sense.

“Yes!” Anakin grinned. “I wasn’t quite sure how to teach her sounds properly because I hadn’t equipped her with a sound analysis program before and I figured that if babies just learn by listening to their parents, Ahsoka could learn by listening to us.”

“So you fed her audio of us singing?” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure whether to be impressed, confused, or just plain tired but decided to settle on confusion for now and let the course of the conversation determine where they’d end up.

“That too, but I actually just started by playing old voice messages. I figured getting her used to just one phonetic inventory would be enough for now. Honestly, for the first hour, I wasn’t even sure whether that would be of any use because she had no symbols to connect the sounds to, and I thought using the IPA might bias her.”

Because, of course, Anakin never deleted any of Obi-Wan’s voice messages and just kept them on his phone. The fact that he just glossed over it as if it weren’t anything special either made Obi-Wan smile.

“It’s cute that you think we have the same inventory,” Obi-Wan commented. “But continue. You just let her listen to sounds and then? Don’t tell me you gave her written texts.”

Anakin rolled his eyes and confirmed another one of Ahsoka’s queries before answering. “No, I gave her the IPA then and let her listen to the full inventory and then analyze which ones we use.”

That made enough sense. Obi-Wan was reasonably sure it was a great deal more complicated than Anakin was lying it out right now, but it was still within the realm of possible and not downright sci-fi. There were enough programs that could analyze speech and filter out patterns, recognize even emotions and tone. Feeding data to a computer wasn’t too different from the way babies learned, though, as far as Obi-Wan knew from talking to people with children, they didn’t like their progeny being compared to lines of code.

“And you accomplished this by feeding my thesis program, which is meant to predict the language acquisition of children, to Ahsoka?”

“Yes, that, uh, happened more or less,” Anakin said, his nose scrunched up just so that Obi-Wan knew he wasn’t certain. “I’m pretty sure I like, wrote some of it down. Not all of it because I knocked out at like 4 a.m., which resulted in pretty interesting inquiries on the great vowel shift.”

Obi-Wan froze. “She’s asking about the great vowel shift?”

There was a difference in the size of the Atlantic between analyzing sounds and recognizing a six-hundred-year-old change in pronunciation.

“Not really,” Anakin said. “She just noticed the patterns? And had inquiries? We’ve been following up on it since, mostly by also giving her written text, but I think that might have backfired and confused her a bit. I’m thinking of synching up the input with a visible feed so she’d learn to associate an actual object with the sound, but I’m not sure whether that wouldn’t just lead to her matching data instead of actually learning its relevance. Can teach an AI what an apple looks like, sounds like, tastes like, but that doesn’t mean you can teach it what an apple is and all that.”

Anakin smiled impishly, and unfortunately, despite his generally messy appearance, Obi-Wan still thought he was handsome. “Please don’t cite my book back at me like that.”

Closing his eyes for a moment and pinching his nose, Obi-Wan tried to focus. This was not how he expected to start his free day. He needed to wake up and possibly grab his notes to sort out this mess. This almost made him wish the car was still wrecked and Anakin would spend all his free time fixing that. “Did you have to start her on English of all languages?”

Anakin was fluent in two other romance languages; it would have been much easier to deal with a French AI than an English one. Sighing, Obi-Wan looked at Ahsoka’s latest question and promptly frowned.

script input: bear auditory input: /beər/ match found: bare analysis: mismatch diagnosis: failed word formation query: bear = bare? query: deletion >bare<?

“How long has she been doing that?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Doing what— oh, that’s new.”

So Ahsoka had jumped from matching sounds to text to comparing sound to words and then referencing those words against one another. That was a logical step, but also a step Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure she should be doing without prompting.

“She thinks bear and bare are related because they have the same sound. Didn’t really expect that turn of events. Should I show her those are two different words?”

“Does she even know what a word is yet?” Obi-Wan asked in turn.

“No.”

“Then teach her what a word is first— after breakfast. I want your pancakes.”

“You never want pancakes on a Friday.”

“My husband also never decided to rope me into teaching an artificial intelligence morphology before.”

Obi-Wan needed a proper meal for this. He could talk to his students on an empty stomach, but he could not deal with the latest brand of Skywalker insanity without something sweet first.

“I haven’t—”

Ever the negotiator, Obi-Wan decided to shut Anakin up with a kiss. “After breakfast.”

Ahsoka’s many questions could wait for an hour.