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burlesquedanceralice · 2 years ago

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All About Alice

Trigger Warnings: Death, bullying, and homophobia.

Basic Information

Full Name: Alice Lyn Kingsleigh

Nickname(s): N/A

Age: 25

Date of Birth: March 30th

Hometown: London, England

Current Location: Evermore, USA

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: British

Culture: UK

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She / Her

Orientation: Pan/Polysexual/romantic

Occupation: Burlesque Dancer/Waitress at Wonderland

Living Arrangements: Apartment

Language(s) Spoken: English, French

Accent: “Proper/Posh” British

Religion and Beliefs: Alice is a bit agnostic. She was raised Presbyterian, but never bought into it. It all sounded like a story to her, as do most other religions. Who is she to say who got the story of the literal universe correct?

Political Affiliation: Liberal

Social Issues: Alice believes in equality for all, and will fight for it when any opportunity arises.

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Virginia Gardner

Complexion: Clear skin

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Blue

Height: 5′7

Weight: 130 lbs

Build: Slim

Tattoos: Splatterings of flowers under her breasts, along her ribcage, down her shoulders/arms, and down her hips. Lavender on her middle finger on her left hand.

Piercings: Basic ear piercings as well as more unusual ear piercings.

Scars: Alice has some scars on her hands, elbows, and knees from accidents when she was younger and would try to explore. They’re fairly minor and mostly healed.

Common Hairstyle: Mostly Alice just let’s her hair do what it’s going to do. She runs a brush through it and just leaves it however it is, which isn’t exactly crazy, but it’s definitely a natural wavy, full head of hair. Occasionally she’ll straighten or curl it, and might even wear a braid or some ribbons in her hair, but that’s mostly if she’s getting dressed up for an event or something similar.

Clothing Style: Quirky. Alice likes clothes that speak. (I could say that’s metaphorical, but Alice really does feel like she hears things speaking to her sometimes, so.) Anything that’s considered alternative or different or out-of-date calls to Alice. Basically, she has a unique sense of fashion made up from random finds in thrift shops and the like.

Mannerisms: Alice tucks her hair behind her ears a lot. It’s just sort of a quirk, she’s always trying to get her hair out of her face. She’s also restless, so her leg will bounce if she’s sitting still for too long.

Usual Expression: Curious and tentatively optimistic!

Health

Overall (do they get sick easily?): Alice is actually pretty healthy. She only gets really sick maybe once a year. Other than that, she just has pretty bad seasonal allergies that can sometimes develop into colds or sinus infections.

Physical Ailments: N/A

Neurological Conditions: Alice has Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, and it is likely she has NOS (Dissociative Disorder Not Otherwise Specified) as well.

Allergies: Seasonal weather allergies

Sleeping Habits: Alice can fall asleep literally any time, anywhere. It’s been a problem in the past - falling asleep during lessons or in the car - and can still sometimes cause trouble to this day. Alice loves her sleep, and so she loves to nap. She just has such a hard time waking up. She never feels fully rested.

Grooming Habits: She takes good care of herself. She loves sleep, she loves bathing, and she enjoys painting her nails when she has the time and patience for it. Alice doesn’t go out of her way to participate in skin-care or go beyond what is necessary to stay clean, though.

Eating Habits: Not only is Alice a picky eater, but she also eats like a bird. She has never had a particularly large appetite, and her mother always yelled at her for “playing with her food.” (Okay, so half of the time in her mother’s defense, Alice was literally playing with her food.)

Exercise Habits: Alice likes to bike! It’s her most frequent form of exercise, since she doesn’t go out of her way to use a gym or anything.

Emotional Stability: Ask, and Alice will tell you very sternly that she is perfectly normal and emotionally stable, thank you very much. The truth is, however, she is anything but. Below any positive emotion, there is always a layer of brimming anxiety, threatening to push her into a polar opposite emotion. She tries to keep level-headed because she hates being labeled as “crazy,” but when she snaps, she snaps big.

Sociability: Alice is naturally curious, so she’s very sociable. She thinks that everyone is interesting in their own light, and everyone has a story to tell. And she wants to hear them all!

Body Temperature: She gets cold easily, and loves to bundle up.

Addictions: Easily addicted to alcohol and other substances once exposed, though she currently has no specific addictions.

Drug Use: Marijuana, the occasional opioid

Alcohol Use: She drinks to excess whenever she has the excuse to.

Personality

Archetype: The Explorer/The Activist

Positive Traits: Creative, curious, sensitive, unique

Negative Traits: Guarded, stubborn, flighty, distracted

Good Habits: Taking care of things around the house; going to sleep at the same time every night

Bad Habits: Sleeping too much, not eating enough, not cleaning her room or things often enough

Goals/Desires: Alice honestly just wants to live life and see where she ends up, she doesn’t really strive for anything in particular other than to make friends and be happy. Her biggest goal right now is to change how people are being treated at Wonderland.

Weakness: Her emotions.

Fears/Phobias: People thinking she’s crazy, being thrown into an asylum or mental institution, etc

Secrets: That she was briefly institutionalized after her parents death.

Regrets: Alice regrets being at a protest the night her parents died.

Proud Of: Her strength to keep trudging on after all she’s been through

Embarrassed By: Her toothy grin, her occasional clumsiness.

Attitude: Curious and realistic. She hopes for the best, but expects the worst in most situations.

Pet Peeves: Arrogance, mistreatment of others, lying

Inner Conflicts: Working for Reina, mainly. Wanting to explore but being trapped in Evermore.

Motivation: To be happy and normal, but an interesting enough person. To save others from injustice.

Hobbies: Reading, writing, baking, partying, adventure, etc.

Talents/Skills: Alice doesn’t really think she’s a good writer because she just kind of let’s her hands take over, but she is actually pretty good. She is a very skilled and knowledgeable lock-picker.

Intelligence: Alice is book-smart, having grown up with knowledge at her fingertips and a need to learn things beyond school curriculum.

Driving Style: Awful. Don’t let her on the roads, she’ll get you killed.

Favorites, Likes, and Dislikes

Weather: Alice honestly tries to make the most out of any weather, but she does love herself a beautiful, semi-cloudy afternoon.

Color: Yellow, Blue

Music: Indie, electropop, edm

Movies: She can’t sit still long enough to watch them, honestly

TV Shows: She really likes cartoons?? Adult and children shows alike; she likes shows like American Dad but also Adventure Time, for example

Books: Action/adventure or fantasy books are her go-tos!

Magazines: She finds magazines cliche and ridiculous, tbh

Sport: She doesn’t play any, though she’ll watch things like Rugby or Roller Derby for entertainment

Beverage: Tea, tea, and more tea

Food: She’s a big fan of sandwiches and pastries

Animals: Cats and rodents (i.e: hamsters, mice, gerbils, etc)

Quote: “One of the biggest lies we are told is that art has to be pretty and that it has to mean something. Sometimes art’s purpose is just being. It is alright if that is your purpose too.”

School Subject: History

Possession: Her father’s pocket-watch.

Websites: Instagram, TikTok

Favorite Toy or Game: Growing up she used to always love to play hide and seek. It was her absolute favorite - especially when no one knew she was playing. She liked it when people found her and seemed worried, even if it was only temporary and they got angry afterwards. Alice has also always been very good at chess as well as card games.

Family

Father: Thomas Kingsleigh [DECEASED]

Mother: Samantha Kingsleigh [DECEASED]

Father’s Occupation: Owner and CEO of Ascot Trading Industries

Mother’s Occupation: Homemaker

Siblings: One older sister

Birth Order: Youngest

Children: None

Other Close Family: None

Pet: A cat named Dinah

Family’s Financial Status: Extremely Wealthy

Relationship With Family: Alice loved her father, and was very much a “Daddy’s Girl.” She missed him when he was away on long trips and always ran into his arms when he returned, sucking up as much time with him as she could before he had to leave again. Her relationship with her mother was far more strained, as her mother was always nit-picking everything about her and coming down on her too harshly.

Home Life During Childhood: As a child, Alice got picked on a lot by her peers. Mostly, Alice remembers being alone quite a lot, and feeling awfully lonely.

Bedroom Through The Years: Alice’s bedroom in her family home has always been the same. Very pristine with elegant furnishings and little personal decor. When she turned ten, however, she got to pick out new bedding, and chose a fluffy white duvet with blue and yellow flowers sprawled all over it, and matching pillows. Her bedroom in her current apartment is much more personal. Plants and artwork everywhere, lots of books and journals, little trinkets, etc. It’s very light and cozy.

Best Memory: She has a vivid memory of her family taking her on a picnic when she was very, very little. They were in a field of flowers, and her mother read to Alice and her father while they ate and made commentary here and there.

Worst Memory: The death of her parents.

School

Type of Student: Alice is extremely easily distracted, but with the right teacher (or the most strict) she was very focused and did well.

Extra Curricular Activities: Theatre

Best Subject: History

Worst Subject: Math

Popular or Loner: Loner. Even before Alice begun getting home-schooled, she was bullied and harassed a lot by her peers for being a bit odd.

Schooling: Graduated from home schooling, graduated from Kingston University London.

Current Details and Relationships:

Town: Evermore, USA

Home: Apartment

Neighborhood: Apartment Complex

Car: None, but she has a bike!

Love Life: Impulsive and sporadic.

Best Friends: TBD

Other Friends: TBD

Enemies: Reina Amador

Past Lovers: Ronald: A boy Alice was foolish enough to snog at a party when she was sixteen and very drunk, and continued to fool around with for about a year and a half. He took her virginity and Alice was very certain she might have loved him. However, he broke up with her when a rumor started circulating that she was a “lesbo,” which grossed him out, and he verbally attacked her. They got into a fight, which ended with her having to be pulled off of him because she was scratching at his face. Elizabeth: Not really a past lover, but Elizabeth is a girl that Alice found herself growing close to at the same parties during which she met Ronald. They would get drunk, dance together, and always found themselves collapsed somewhere laughing by the end of the night if Alice wasn’t with Ron. She could swear she felt sparks with Elizabeth, and that their chemistry was almost tangible. But one night when she was drunk, Alice tried to kiss her, and Elizabeth promptly flipped her lid. She slapped Alice in the face and called her a “freak” and a “lesbo” before running off to tell everyone Alice had tried to force herself on her.

Extra

Zodiac Sign: Aires

MBTI: ENTP

Enneagram: 4w3, The Individualist/Aristocrat

Temperament: Sanguine

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good

Primary Vice: Lust

Primary Virtue: Humility

Element: Fire

Dream Career: Undecided

Dream Life: Happy and healthy, and loved, somewhere cozy and safe.

Important Events: -TBD

#[ about ]#[ hc ]

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house-not-home · 2 years ago

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Sometimes I feel like I don't have a husband anymore and it's exclusively because he refuses to make any strides towards improving his health.

A few months ago he started sleepwalking- which wasn't a big deal, except for the fact that he has chronic nightmares (ptsd probably) and kept hurting himself in his sleep or flailing around and hurting me. At the time we thought it was because there had been a lot of big changes in his life recently and it was causing a lot of extra stress. So we dealt with the things we could control and made some sacrifices for his comfort; changed the bed frame/ orientation, reassigned chores he was struggling with, etc.

It didn't really help. In fact, things only got worse. His sleepwalking progressed from stumbling around our room to nearly waltzing out the front door, or shuffling into the bathroom only to fall asleep again and nearly crack his head open in the shower. He was waking up in a panic more often, screaming, flailing hard. And keep in mind, I was waking up just as much, if not more than he was.

So next we tried efficiency, sort of hubby-proofing the room so that if he did start wandering at least he wouldn't hurt himself. Made it easier to keep things clean and tucked away.

He tried handcuffing himself to the bed, but he just took them off in his sleep (tbf, they were fluffy velcro cuffs).

His mom had an old CPAP machine lying around; we tried using that to see if it would help him sleep deeper. He would end up ripping the mask off his face at night saying he felt like he was suffocating, and we couldn't adjust the settings.

Now, months later, he's walking around less but instead falls asleep at literally any opportunity. Sitting, standing, in the middle of conversations even- he has to be actively focused on something to stay awake. It's impacting his work performance. We can't drive anywhere without him falling asleep no matter how loud the music is or how short the ride. He comes home and immediately goes to take a nap, which he won't wake up from without me forcing him to get up. If I don't wake him up when I get home, I won't get to spend any time with him.

Getting him out of bed in the morning is a lesson in futility. If he isn't up by himself, it'll take a full hour of waking him up every two minutes before he's a functioning human, and as soon as he sits down he's right back out again. When he doesn't work he sleeps the day away. I can't count on him to do literally anything around the house because of it. I've started doing all the chores; all our laundry, all the cleaning, all the shopping- while working full time, even though he's part time and stays home 3 days straight every week and gets home hours before I do.

Last week I cleaned the entire room, top to bottom, put away all his laundry he swore he would take care of yet had cycled between the clean and dirty baskets for the past 3 weeks, started packing for when we move this summer. The only thing I didn't get to was vacuuming, and it was the only thing I asked him to do while I went back to work for the rest of my week. I'd only had one day off, since I traded with a coworker. It took three days of nagging and finally saying I'd do it myself before he bothered.

I can't text him during his days off anymore. He won't answer. 99% of the time he's asleep. The one day off we have together each week? He never wants to do anything, just sleep. Dragging him anywhere is a chore, and if the drive is longer than 5 minutes he'll arrive with drool on his chest. Even if I'm directly in front of him I barely get anything, because he'll be asleep. We don't talk anymore. He doesn't cook for us anymore. We rarely have sex anymore. Hell, he hardly shares a bed with me since he always ends up thrashing around until he ends up on the floor, sitting with his back propped up against the side of the bed, snoring away.

I don't even know the last time I had a good night's sleep.

It's like he's not even there sometimes. I feel like I can't count on him for anything. I'm scared that this will end up a serious health issue and kill him because he won't do anything about it. And to make it worse, I've gotten so used to all this that I barely wake up from it anymore, and that terrifies me.

I've begged him for months to get himself on health insurance so he can see a doctor and get a sleep study done. I've done everything short of signing him up myself, hoping he'll just be an adult and drop the "idk how" excuse.

I'm starting to resent him for it, just a little bit. And I hate that. I hate that I care so much about him but he won't care for himself.

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

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Date bled or demon bros react to mc likes to nap and cuddle throughout the day

I’ll do the brothers! :D

Lucifer

…MC get off of him. He’s in a meeting.

Aaaaaaaaand they’re napping. Wonderful.

At first, Lucifer is annoyed that he’s got another Belphie on his hands, especially during the time when Belphie’s locked in the attic. How dare MC remind him of the brother that he’s holding under house arrest >:c

But once the relationship grows, Lucifer submits to the snuggles. Luci quickly realizes that he’s very not used to cuddling.

As long as MC isn’t napping through their classes, they’re good. Nap whenever you want, MC, just make sure your homework is done.

MC should expect the cuddling to be one sided in public, but behind closed doors? Hoo boy, the man’s attached to MC like a koala to a tree.

MC may have also accidentally fixed his sleep schedule… it’s just… why does he feel sleepy when he sees them nap? *yawn*

He’s just going to rest his eyes for a second, the paperwork can wait.

Mammon

G-gah! Stupid human! What do they think they’re doin’ cuddling up to him like that!? They do know he’s a demon right?

For the first little while, Mammon tsuderes it up, but he gets so easily flustered whenever MC leans on him that it renders everything he says pretty much meaningless.

The first time MC ever fell asleep on him it was absolutely magical. He slowly patted their head and refused to move until the next day. Sure, his back hurt and he didn’t get any sleep, but MC was just so cute dammit!

Deeper into the relationship, Mammon is the happiest demon alive because he doesn’t need to ask for snuggles! He just plops himself down next to MC and his human just cuddles up next to him!

His absolute favourite thing is when MC falls asleep on his lap. They did it in public once and Mammon took this opportunity to flex. Yeah, he has a cute human that likes to cuddle him, do you?!

Mammon’s only wish is that MC would be more awake when he’s explaining his totally legit business ideas, they always seem to fall asleep once he gets goin’

Leviathan

SISJDJSJSJDJDJSJJAJAKALSKA- PHYSICAL CONTACT?!?!?! WITH HIM?! it’s more likely than you’d think.

First part of the relationship when Levi had just made a pact with MC, he was kind of confused. He had tried to murk this normie just a couple of days ago and now they’re cuddling up next to him? What’s that abou-

Levi.exe has stopped working.

Yeah, Levi blue screening happens a LOT. It takes literal months for MC and Levi to snuggle properly on a regular basis.

As totally Kawaii MC is when they nap on him, they just need to see how this fight scene is animated! MC! MC! Look! Homura and Mami are- WAKE UP AND LOOK AT THIS!

Cuddling in public causes Levi to die a flustered death. Fs in the chat everyone, had a good life, he did.

Though, it makes him feel so much more comfortable whenever MC just holds his hand out in public and doesn’t make a big deal about it. It makes him feel safe ^.^

Satan

At first, Satan was taking notes on how this human got so comfortable so quickly that they just started cuddling people and napping everywhere. Hm, humans appear to be quite adaptable… interesting.

They also seem to lack any sense of danger. Well, at least this one does.

Later down the line though, when MC first crawled into Satan’s lap to nap, it rivalled the first time a cat chose him. This was wild.

Snuggles… while reading stories… yes please…

Okay, that part sounded better than it ended up being. MC fell asleep while cuddling and ended up right on Satan’s arm, then in their sleep, MC basically locked Satan’s entire right side into a vice grip and couldn’t be pried off. Basically, Satan had to reread the same page of his book over and over and over again because he didn’t want to wake up MC.

Well, call it a learning experience, and Satan loves to learn, so next time, he was prepared for MC’s death cuddles.

Apparently he wasn’t prepared enough because the exact same thing happened again… multiple times more.

MC is literally a walking relaxant, Satan is significantly less filled with burning rage when they’re around. Notice I said less filled, he will still cut a bitch.

Asmodeus

Oh~ how bold! MC just plopped themselves down next to him and cuddled up close to him!

At first, Asmo was amused by all the cuddling MC was doing and made quite a few less than wholesome jokes about it. The Avatar of Lust has a dirty mind! Shocker!

But hark! (The herald angels siiiiing-) Asmo actually… likes platonic snuggles?!?! What is this sorcery?!

If MC and Asmo don’t enter a romantic relationship, my man still needs his cuddle quota met, ASAP.

If they do end up dating, hoo boy, MC and Asmo sure do a lot of snuggling, and “snuggling”.

But overall, Asmo loves being held and cuddled, and sleep is good for one’s skin!

Beelzebub

*sniffle* Beeeeeeeeeelllllllllpppppphhhhhiiiiiiiiieeeeeee-

Congratulations MC, they have made Beel more sad about his twin being gone just by existing :D

Once the custard incident happens and MC and Beel grow closer, oh man, oh man oh man, is he in desperate need of cuddles.

If MC ever falls asleep anywhere and needs to get from point A to point B, fret not, Beel is prepared. He will gently pick them up and they will awaken at point B. How nice!

Once Belphie gets his ass out of the attic, MC has competition.

Not really, Beel has enough love to go around. Both his sleepy beans can get carried around and cuddled with. Beel is big and strong for a reason.

Since MC has a vice grip while they cuddle, Beel kind of walks around with them clinging to his arm like a sloth to a tree. Belphie also picks up on this behaviour and starts doing it too.

Someone (*cough* Levi and Mammon *cough*) took a picture and posted it on Devilgram and now it’s kind of a meme template.

Belphegor

Gasp! Whomst- whomst is this human who comes before him and cuddles up close to him? This must be his soulmate! His other half! His destined partner!

…his destined partner was drooling all over his cardigan.

Ah well, two can play that game motherfucker. *SNORE*

Anyway, Belphie and MC? I would say power couple but in reality, the two just do a lot of snuggling and sleeping, it’s like they’re attached at the hip.

The two are always touching in some way, Belphie resting his head on MC’s shoulder, MC attaching themselves to Belphie’s torso like a koala, the two of them trading spit with each other… you get the idea.

It gets weird when the two start legitimately visiting each other in dreams, it gets so frequent it basically becomes a date night thing to just sleep and do weird shit in dreamland.

“Hey MC do you wanna hang out?” “Sorry, can’t, it’s date night. *SNORE*” “Yeah, shoo. *S N O R E*”

On their most recent date, MC and Belphie fought a dragon and then ate a giant cake.

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gnocchighoul · 4 years ago

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Hmm.. kind of a random thing but that's how my brain works sometimes but hear me out! The Bros (plus undatables and Luke if you want) get turned into cats. What type of cat would they be, how would mc react, and how would they react to being a cat.

I had SO much fun writing this one. Thank you for this excellent prompt 💗

This is just the demon bros getting turned into cats, but I might make a part two with the undateables! :D

Lucifer

Oh he’s going to be so pissed off.

Seriously, even as a cat, his murder-death-murder-death stare is beyond intense. He will sit himself high up on furniture to glare down on everyone like the prettiest gargoyle you’ve ever seen.

Nobody is allowed to come near him. He will swat and hiss at anyone and everyone who approaches, unless they are approaching to turn him back into a demon.

BUT if you had nothing to do with this curse that’s fallen upon him, then he’ll probably let you near, as long as you’re not like, weird about it. Seriously, don’t baby talk at him, he’s not actually a cat.

Cat-Lucifer will probably just want to constantly stand on your shoulders and wrap his tail around your neck, which isn’t super comfortable because he’s not exactly small and dainty.

Also, every time you say something stupid he’s gonna bite your ear lol

Tbh he’s probably going to make you carry him everywhere like that and he’s gonna control where you go -- you know, kinda like ratatouille LMAO

Mammon

You know those cats that climb literally everything and anything?

Yeah.

When he first gets turned into a cat, he freaks the fuck out. But when he finally calms down and isn’t meowing up an angry storm, he’s gonna realize that this is a great opportunity. for evil.

He's gonna book it the second he realizes that he can literally be a cat-thief.

Nothing is safe from his grabby little gremlin paws.

He steals so much shit (wallets, Asmo’s jewelry, Levi’s limited edition collectors items--anything he can carry in his mouth or drag around) and then he stashes it all in your room, because unfortunately, becoming a cat didn’t make him any smarter.

Lucifer tasks you with just sitting in your room and keeping track of everything cat-Mams steals so that you can return everything to their rightful owners.

You quickly become used to cat-Mams sauntering in and out of your room every five minutes with his newfound riches.

So it’s a bit concerning when Mams darts out of your room after stashing a wallet in his hoard, and doesn’t come back after thirty minutes.

Naturally, you go looking for him.

You’ve only been searching for about twenty minutes, when pathetic meowing reaches your ears. You follow the sound, and--

You find him stuck in a cardboard box.

(before fishing him out, you take tons of pictures. He’s very upset.)

Levi

Levi is so distraught. He’s literally going to just wail and roll around on the floor until somebody picks him up.

He’s literally the crying cat meme.

Once he’s in your arms, do not put him down. He’s very sad and his reflexes really aren’t good. You know how you can just kinda toss cats onto the floor and they’ll land on their feet just fine?

He will not.

Is suuuuper jumpy and only trusts you (and maybe Beel, but he’s lowkey afraid that Beel is going to eat him.)

You should probably get him one of those bubble back-packs that cats can sit in and carry him around in that.

He has the worst time as a cat. He just wants to play his video games :(

(But if you give him lots of smooches, it’ll make his suffering a little bit easier to deal with. But like, he’s gonna turn into an overwhelmed ragdoll when u start giving him the smooches)

Satan

Honestly? He isn’t that opposed to being a cat for a little while.

But he’s also like. So hyperactive. Goes from 0-1000 in half a second.

He’s got the zoomies.

He’s gonna parkour his way around the house of lamentation, testing how fast he can zoom, how high and far he can jump (and how far he can fall without hurting himself)

He’s gonna do a backflip off lucifer at the speed of light and then sprint away as fast as he can to go wreck some shit

If you want to hold him, you’re going to have to catch him mid-air. If he doesn’t just squirm out of your arms and actually lets you pet him, he’s gonna stare you dead in the eyes, extend his claws, and then pat your leg with his lil toe beans.

You’re not entirely sure if that means ‘keep petting me’ or ‘stop it right now’ so you just kinda scratch his ears instead

Asmo

Even as a cat he’s beautiful and everybody has to see just how pretty he is.

He’s constantly striking poses.

Looking back over his shoulder. Stretching his leggies out so you can see how long and lean they are. Contorting his body in the WEIRDEST ways because he’s even more flexible now.

He does not run anywhere, he struts very daintily and model-like.

He’s gonna be so affectionate. Constantly rubbing his cheeks all over you, and leaning against you, but be careful while you give him pets because if you mess up his fur he’s gonna swat your hands away.

He’s also definitely going to be really annoying and constantly walk in front of your feet and trip you up. Where are you going, why aren’t you admiring him, dammit

You know how most cats hate water?

Not asmo.

He’s gonna make you fill the bathtub up to his chin so he can float around on his tiptoes with just the upper half of his head out of the water like a crocodile.

Then you have to blow-dry him until he’s all nice and fluffy and give him a good brush.

He will absolutely tolerate you dressing him up and taking pictures as long as you make him look nice. He won’t allow you to put him in stupid costumes (he’s gonna bite you when you bust out a lobster costume) but a pearl necklace? Hell yeah.

Beel

Feed him dammit, he’s starving.

Cat-Beel is going to gnaw on EVERYTHING. Furniture. Books. Clothes. Your hands and ankles.

It’s not anxiety -- honestly he really doesn’t mind being a cat -- he’s just so hungy.

Also he’s MASSIVE.

You don’t actually know that he’s been turned into a cat until you go to the kitchen for a snack and find an orange & white cat the size of a literal child raiding the fridge.

Which brings me to my next point -- he’s gonna be SUCH a snuggle bug. Like those really big dogs that insist on sitting in your lap and crushing you. If he isn’t eating then he just wants to flop on top of you and crush you with his love.

You can baby-talk at him if you want, as long as you give him treats and snuggle him.

He purrs so. Much.

Will also let u just roll him around and do whatever you want to him dkjncdsn he’s honestly the chillest out of them all

Belphie

God he’s so fucking upset at first, like claws out, hissing and spitting at everyone, full on tantruming upset, BUT THEN. but then. You pick him up and press a kiss to his sweet little triangle head and he bleps and it's all over.

Good luck getting anything done. Cat-Belphie is going to demand your full attention for snuggles CONSTANTLY.

No, he doesn’t care that you’re trying to research ways to turn him back, he’s gonna plop his little butt on the tome you’re attempting to read until you give him love, dammit.

Honestly, Belphie being a cat isn’t that much different from normal. The biggest difference is that now he can squeeze into weirder places to nap, which makes it very difficult to keep track of him.

After searching for two fucking hours, you, Satan, Levi, and Beel find him stretched out across the arms of one of the chandeliers in the dining room, like it’s some kind of weird hammock.

He’s fast asleep. Nobody knows how he got up there.

(To get down, he ends up yeeting himself into Beel’s arms.)

If Bells isn’t napping, then he’s hiding under furniture, waiting for his next victim to walk by so he can attack their ankles.

(also the most likely to bite u when he wants your attention)

((part 2 with the undateables))

#obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me shall we date #swd obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me #gnocchicanons

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the-scandalorian · 3 years ago

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, pining, Din in suspenders, fluff Summary: Din takes a job with his old crew, and you and the kid wait for him on Arvala-7. Notes: Sorry this took me forever!

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

After you left the atmosphere of Tatooine and jumped into hyperspace, Din swiveled his chair around to face you in the copilot’s seat.

“I should take a job. Everything we made went to Peli, and I don’t like being low on credits. There’s a crew I used to run with...I can reach out to them...” he hesitated then added, “but you and the kid can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean I can’t come with you?”

He sighed, shoulders dropping. “I mean, I don’t trust them enough for you and the kid to come.”

“If you don’t trust them, wouldn’t it be better to have backup?”

“I just—,” he looked away, “I don’t want them to know either of you exist.”

“If you don’t trust them, should you be taking a job with them?”

“We don’t have a lot of options.”

“I could get work somewhere. We could go somewhere safe enough for a few weeks. There are some places where I have contacts, and non-bounty hunting work is usually less conspicuous.”

“I don’t think we should stay anywhere that long right now.”

“But—”

“I’ll feel better if you and the kid are safe together.”

“I—”

When he bowed his head in a silent appeal, your determination crumbled.

“Ugh, fine.”

He sighed in relief, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee briefly. His touch was reassuring.

“But, just so you know, this is only going to work once, so don’t think that my staying back with the kid is going to be a regular thing.”

He removed his hand and turned back around to face the viewport.

“I am taking your silence as tacit agreement,” you said to the back of his helmet.

He chose to ignore that, fiddling with the controls instead.

***

Now that you’d both admitted you wanted to stay together, abandoning the pretense of strategy and convenience all together, things were a little off between you and Din. Neither of you were used to being vulnerable, so conversations were slightly stunted again. You found yourself being overly polite, and Din was doing the same.

That first night back on the Crest, he offered you his bunk.

“I’m not taking your bed. You need it to take off your helmet.”

Besides the unshakable lingering chill of the hull, sleeping there wasn’t that bad. You usually slept with every sweater you owned on and that kept you warm enough.

“Use it when I’m not. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor.”

“Sure, thanks,” you agreed, knowing you’d never take him up on that. You didn’t want to be on a different sleep schedule than he and the kid.

You did try to nap with the kid in Din’s bunk the next day because there wasn’t all that much to do in hyperspace. As soon as you lay down, though, you knew it was a mistake. First of all, it was crazy uncomfortable (somehow not better than the literal floor and the close walls made it slightly claustrophobic), and second—and far more importantly—it smelled overwhelmingly like Din. It smelled like his pine-y soap and beskar and blaster residue and leather and whatever else made up his infuriatingly good scent. It conjured images of crackling fires and golden skin and warm embraces and taut muscles.

Shit.

There was no chance you were going to be able to fall sleep when all you could think about was him.

The kid, on the other hand, was snoozing contentedly beside you. When you’d fully given up on napping, you edged your way out the bunk carefully, doing your best not to wake him.

Din was sitting in the hull on a long crate against the wall, cleaning his blaster, the pieces spread out next to him. Usually, when you were in the hull at the same time, you’d find a place across from him. Instead, you purposefully sat next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and leaning against the wall.

You decided you were going to push through this awkward phase and make things not weird right there, right then. And you were going to do that the best way you knew how.

He tilted his helmet toward you momentarily then refocused on the blaster in his hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” he said, running a rag along the barrel.

“How does one develop a catchphrase? Does it happen organically or is there an iterative brainstorming process?”

Din paused, sighing dramatically, set his blaster and the rag down next to him, and pushed himself back until he was also leaning against the metal wall. His helmet clunked slightly as he relaxed it back. “This is the way is not a catchphrase. It’s a tenet of the Creed.”

“And ‘I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold’ is also a tenet of the Creed?”

He lolled his helmet to the side, looking down at you. “Okay, fine, that one isn’t,” he conceded.

“So you admit it—you have at least one catchphrase that you regularly use on bounties.” You smirked up at him.

Without missing a beat, Din fixed you with that unreadable visor and quipped: “I’ve been told I have a sexy voice. I’m just giving the people what they want.”

Your jaw dropped, a shocked laugh echoing through the hull. You had planned on teasing him and had not expected him to turn it around on you so smoothly.

“Uh... I was sort of hoping we’d stick to our unspoken agreement to not bring up the stupid things I said when I was drunk.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, definitely not.”

You looked back up. “Alright, well then in the name of fairness, we’re going to have to get you really drunk the next time the opportunity presents itself, so we can see what embarrassing things you say.”

He paused for a moment, considering, then said, “Does that mean you’ll carry me home?”

You cracked a smile, nodding vigorously. “Of course. That would only be fair.”

A warm laugh rasped through the modulator. You crossed your ankles in front of you, letting your knee rest against the cold beskar on this thigh.

“I feel skeptical of that promise.” He dropped a gloved hand to your knee.

“Okay, okay I can’t promise to carry you home, but I can promise to tie your shoe if needed.”

“My boots don’t have laces.” He lifted a foot off the ground to show you.

You shrugged playfully: “Well, that’s not my fault.”

“This doesn’t sound like a very good deal for me. I tied your shoe and carried you home.”

“To be fair, both were against my will.”

“But necessary.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I can’t carry you, and I can’t tie your shoe... so I’ll...,” you bit your lip as you fished around for something else to offer, “...hold your hand? And not let anyone tickle you.”

He huffed and rubbed his thumb over your knee: “I’m not ticklish.”

You pursed your lips. “Right, sure, of course not. My mistake.”

He harrumphed. “Can I ask you something now?”

“I’ll allow it,” you intoned seriously.

“Where are you actually from?”

“Naboo. Most of my back story was true—I just left out the one major detail.”

“Your favorite color?” he deadpanned.

You laughed. “Yes, exactly. What about you? Where are you from?”

“Aq Vetina.”

You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.

“When my parents died there, I was rescued by the Mandalorians and raised in the Fighting Corps.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. “That sounds like a tough life for a child.”

“It was all I knew,” he explained, shifting slightly.

“Still, that can’t have been easy. It makes sense that you couldn’t leave the kid.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, solemnly. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Less serious question,” you replied, changing the subject to something lighter.

“Okay.” He relaxed a little.

“Why don’t you ever use a straw to drink with your helmet on?”

“These are the things you think about?” he laughed. His laugh was usually a quiet, muffled sound through the modulator, but it was getting easier to pick up on it. “There’s a seal on the helmet, otherwise the filters wouldn’t work,” he tapped the release on the side of his head. “So a straw isn’t a possibility, unfortunately.”

“Mmm,” you responded, “that is disappointing.”

He gripped your thigh lightly, turning toward you. “I, uh, heard back about the job... while you were asleep. It’s a go.”

“Ah... great. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t hear back.”

“I know. It will be fine.”

“Okay... So, any ideas for where the kid and I should stay?”

To your surprise, Din explained that he had a trusted friend on Arvala-7. When you agreed to the plan, he disappeared to the cockpit to set the nav—a two-day trip.

***

That same evening, you discovered a new favorite activity on the Crest. Before bed, the kid was being particularly fussy, so you pulled out your data pad and downloaded the first children’s book you could find. It worked liked a charm.

From then on, it became a daily routine: you’d read to him until his eyelids drooped before his nap and before bedtime. Regardless of his mood, listening to you read seemed to soothe him. You’d pull him into your lap and settle onto your stack of blankets against the wall. He’d watch your face, enraptured, as you relayed story after story to him. His favorite—the story that elicited the most chirps and grabby motions and ear wiggles—centered on a family of frogs. You revisited that one at least once a day, sometimes more if he was grouchy.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his hyperfixation on that particular story given his appetite for frogs.

At this rate, your digital library was going to be largely children’s books. You didn’t mind.

You noticed that Din would find something to do in the hull while you read. The first couple times, he sat and cleaned one of his many weapons or sewed a hole in his flight suit. Very quickly, he stopped bothering with an ostensible task and would just sit and listen.

When you were still 15 hours out from Arvala-7, Din was seated on his usual crate in the hull, the one next to the weapons cabinet, as you finished the final page of a particularly thrilling story about a snail. The kid was snoring softly in your arms, so you clicked off your datapad, and got up to settle him in his hammock for his mid-day nap.

“You’re good with him.” Din was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I guess,” you shrugged, snapping the door to Din’s bunk shut and turning back to him. “I just think about what I liked as a kid. I loved when my parents would read to me.”

He nodded, helmet trained on the floor between his boots.

“I’m sorry—” you started, realizing how that must have sounded to Din.

He looked up and cut you off. “Don’t be. It’s nice for him to have some normal kid experiences.”

“You know what he’d really love?”

“What?”

“If you read to him.”

He dipped his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, rolling his shoulders back at the same time like he was uncomfortable agreeing with that.

Several hours later, you pulled Din down next to you in your normal pre-bedtime story time spot. He had the kid in his arms. You switched on your datapad and toggled through the catalog of books you’d downloaded, all of which had colorful covers and silly, whimsical titles, until you found the frog book.

“Here,” you offered, passing it over to him.

You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, listening to Din’s serious, even voice narrate the heartwarming hijinks of a family of frogs. The kid cooed and babbled along.

To your (and the kid’s) utter delight, Din’s rendition slowly evolved into a full-on dramatic reading, complete with sound effects and slightly different voices for each character, as he leaned into whatever prompted the most enthusiastic responses from the kid. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing, worried that if you drew attention to this new development, he’d get self-conscious and stop. You couldn’t help from smiling a little though.

When the story came to its conclusion, you opened your eyes. Din was scrolling through the library of options, browsing for the next book. “What do you think? Which one next?” You looked at him, but he wasn’t asking you. The kid let out a string of gibberish, pointing with a teeny finger. Din read out the titles of several options, selecting the one that triggered the most animated trill.

As Din began the story, he shifted until his body was flush with yours. The places where his beskar made contact with you were cold, even through the fabric of your clothes, but you didn’t mind.

By the time Din finished the second book, the kid was displaying the telltale signs—drooping ears and unfocused eyes—that bedtime had arrived.

Din handed you the datapad and stood to tuck the kid into bed.

As he shut the door to his bunk, you said, “I think you just put me out of a job.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he was pleased.

***

As you got more comfortable around each other, Din took to walking around without his armor—beside his helmet—on. Most of the time, he’d even leave his gloves off. He wore either a flight suit that zipped up the middle or a black shirt and pants...with suspenders. The first few times, it was jarring to see him like that, without his armor. He looked wrong. It was like seeing a turtle without its shell... but if turtles were sexy.

The first time he emerged from his bunk with the suspenders hanging loosely by his sides, you stopped dead, mouth hanging open. He tilted his helmet sharply at you: “What?”

“You sometimes wear suspenders under your armor?”

“...Yes?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you and the goofy grin that spread across your face.

“What?” he prompted again, shoulders pulling up toward his neck.

“I just really wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed.

“What were you expecting?” The playful note in his voice left you flustered. He took a step closer, much more relaxed now that he was the one doing the teasing. He was getting too good at flipping things on you.

Instead of answering—because you were not about to address the fact that you had absolutely thought about what he wore under his armor—you strode up to him and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. He stood uncomfortably still, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides.

“What are you doing?” He looked down at his shirt then back up at you.

“I just want to get the full picture.” You looked him up and down.

“Thought about this a lot, have you?” He quirked his helmet down at you suggestively. It was only the second time you’d gotten that particular flavor of head tilt, and you...didn’t hate it. It made your neck feel hot. You disregarded the intense desire to grab him by the suspenders and jerk him toward you.

Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him, enjoying this new bold flirtation. Without looking away from his visor, you hooked a finger through one of the suspenders and pulled it out a couple inches, letting it snap back against him.

“Ow.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that it obviously hadn’t hurt, but for dramatic effect, he rubbed the spot on his chest where it hit him.

“You’ll survive,” you assured him, patting his shoulder and brushing past him to climb the ladder to the cockpit. When you sat down in the pilot’s seat and kicked your feet up to rest on the console, you still had a smile on your face.

***

A few hours later, you were seated in the copilot seat with the child held tightly in your lap as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Arvala-7. On the way, Din shared how he’d met this friend—he had helped Din when he was originally tracking down the child months ago.

However, when you asked what his friend’s name was, Din said he didn’t know. Honestly, you weren’t even that surprised. Just exasperated.

Din told you the details of when he tracked down the child, including the assassin droid he'd crossed paths with. He explained how he’d teamed up with IG-11, but in the end, he had to destroy the droid to protect the kid. The anger in his voice was raw when he described watching IG-11 point his blaster at the child.

As the dusty, cracked surface of the planet came into view, you asked, “Is that what caused your thing with droids?”

“What thing?”

“Din.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“Droids destroyed my home planet, killed my parents. They’re the reason I was a foundling as a child.”

His words washed over you, and your heart dropped. You leaned forward in your seat to put a hand on his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still, helmet trained on the controls in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded stiffly and reached up to squeeze your hand briefly.

“We’re about to land.”

You took that as a cue to drop the subject for now.

***

You and Din, the kid in his arms, approached a small collection of low structures. You swept your eyes across the uniform landscape—all was dry and sienna and flat. The Ugnaught’s homestead was the only sign of habitation in sight. The buildings were brown and domed, and windmills creaked slowly in the warm breeze. Three blurrgs in a large corral watched you balefully.

“Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught greeted, emerging from the door of his low home.

“Ugnaught,” Din replied with a nod.

“I did not think I would see you here again. What business brings you back to Arvala-7?”

“I was hoping that my friends could stay with you for a couple nights—I’ll pay you for the lodging.”

Of course he'd refer to me and a literal infant as his "friends."

You introduced yourself, offering your hand.

The Ugnaught bowed his head slightly as he clasped your hand: “It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Kuill.”

At least Din knows his name now.

Kuill turned back to Din. “The child remains in your care,” he observed.

“Yes,” said Din, offering no explanation. He set the child down on the ground, and he toddled his way slowly over to Kuill.

Kuill scooped up the baby, and he chirruped happily, reaching toward his whiskery mustache.

“It hasn’t grown much.”

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.”

You shot Din a skeptical look. He’d never shared this particular theory of his with you.

“I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly,” mused Kuill.

You raised your eyebrows at the frankness of his statement. He is not ugly.

“Your friends are welcome to stay with me. No payment will be necessary. I have spoken.” Kuill turned and headed back inside without so much as a backward glance.

“I insist,” Din said to his back.

Kuill disappeared into his home.

Din turned to you: “He does that. Just ends a conversation like that.”

“I understand why the two of you get along so well. Men of few words.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Din nodded, reinforcing your point inadvertently.

You and Din stepped closer to each other at the same time. For the first time, you let the concern you were feeling color your features.

“I’ll be back in three days, if not sooner.”

He was padding his timeline in response to the worry that was etched across your face. You knew Din could defend himself—that wasn’t your fear. It was that, whether he liked to admit it or not, he occasionally let trust blind him. The irony of that wasn’t lost on you, considering how long it had taken for him to trust you. This was the trademark paradox of Din. He was loath to fully let people in, but he had a tendency to take people at face value and assume they would keep their word—because he always kept his word. He had a surprisingly generous worldview for someone with such a violent profession and brutal past.

Din reached down to grab something small that was tucked in his belt—the metal ball from one of the controls in the cockpit that the kid loved to play with. He occasionally pretended to be irritated whenever he wanted to play with it, but you knew he found it endearing.

He handed it to you. “He’ll want that.”

You smiled and nodded, looking at the sphere in your palm. Din raised a hand to your chin and tilted your face back up to his.

Do we... hug? He doesn’t seem like a hugger.

So instead, you offered, “Be careful, okay?”

“I will,” he promised. He stayed there for a moment longer, looking at you and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. Before you could decide if you should also try to hug him, he turned abruptly to walk back to the Crest.

You stayed and watched him as he walked the distance back to the ship and disappeared up the ramp. You stayed and watched as the Razor Crest rumbled to life and took off. You stayed and watched as it ascended through the atmosphere and vanished from view.

***

It was a relief to be off the ship for a few days—even if Arvala-7 wasn’t exactly your ideal planet. It would be a treat to eat real food, instead of shelf-stable ration packs, and to have more than the limited space of the ship to move around in... not to mention an actual bed.

Kuill was a kind and welcoming host. He offered you his spare room, where you placed your things, and you sat down for tea together in his small kitchen.

“How did you come to be in the company of the Mandalorian and the child?”

“I guess he has a soft spot for people who are wanted by the Empire?” you chuckled, and Kuill nodded somberly. “Now, we’re just helping each other out.” You weren’t really sure how else to explain it.

Kuill didn’t press you anymore than that, nodding sagely. Instead, while you sipped your tea with the kid on your lap, he told you about his background—decades of indentured servitude to the Empire before he worked off his debt and bought his freedom—in the solemn, frugal way that was clearly characteristic of the Ugnaught. You understood why Din trusted him: he was forthright, calm, wise.

“What can I help you with while I’m here?” you asked, already anxious to find something to occupy your time.

“You are my guest. You do not need to do any work.”

“I would be happy to,” you insisted. “I would rather be busy. I can help with cleaning or repairs—whatever you need. My formal training was in programming, but I’ve picked up general skills along the way.”

Kuill nodded and said, “Come.”

He turned and walked out of his house. You set down your tea on the table and followed him, the child tucked in the crook of your elbow, happily clutching the silver ball. Kuill stopped in front of the workstation that was a short distance from his doorway. Tools and wiring and various speeder parts were arranged on and around a long workbench and a collection of smaller tables and shelves. The circular backdrop of the workbench was the repurposed window of a TIE fighter.

An assassin droid was laid across the tabletop.

“Is this the droid that Mando shot?”

“I believe so, yes. It was left behind, in the Mandalorian’s wake of destruction. I found it lying where it fell—devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remains of its neural harness. Reconstruction will be quite difficult.”

“What are your plans for it?”

“To convert it from an assassin droid to something more useful: a protocol and nurse droid.”

You nodded. “Handy.”

“I will have to reconstruct the neural harness, and then it will have to relearn every function from scratch. It will be a blank slate on which to program something nurturing instead of destructive. You may help me restore him if you would like.”

“Of course.”

The two of you got to work.

***

That night, when you lay down to sleep, you tossed and turned. The child was snuggled in a makeshift crib next to your bed. You found yourself sitting up periodically to check on him. Every time you checked on him, he was sleeping soundly.

Eventually, you slipped out of your bed, tiptoed quietly through the house, and walked out into the cold, clear night. You walked aimlessly for a while, circling the corral of blurrgs. They were asleep, eyes shut tight, standing in a close clump. Then you turned to head out across the open plain and watch the stars through the thin veil of clouds that dusted the sky.

You were starting to regret that you hadn’t pushed harder to go with Din. He was with a whole team of people who sounded untrustworthy at best, malicious at worst. You couldn’t help but think of all the things you should have said to him before he left. You hadn’t even hugged him.

It was freaking you out a little just how attached you were to a man who you’d known for a couple months.

You walked until the chill of the night air became too much, then turned back.

In the morning, you sat at Kuill’s kitchen table again, feeding the child. Kuill moved around the small food prep area, pulling together breakfast and making tea.

You followed Kuill as he went about his daily jobs, caring for the blurrgs, doing routine maintenance, and continuing the work on IG-11.

You were sweating in the sun, hands covered in grease, concentrating on refitting a damaged arm joint when Kuill’s calm voice brought you out of your train of thought.

“It is curious that the Mandalorian elected to keep the child.”

You looked up at him. “He secretly has a soft heart,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“Yes, that much is clear, but he is also set in his beliefs, and this choice went against the Guild Code. What is curious is that such a small being could inspire a change of heart in such a rigid person.”

You considered his words.

“I... think he was just waiting to find a greater purpose than hunting, to find someone to love, you know? It comes naturally to him, but I don’t think he’d ever had the chance.”

Kuill hummed thoughtfully. “Is that not what we are all doing—looking for a greater purpose?”

“I guess?” You shrugged.

“And have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead.

“Have you found the greater purpose you were looking for?”

You considered for a moment then said, “Well... I found a purpose a long time ago, when I joined the Alliance, and since then, I’ve been too busy trying to escape the wrath of the Empire to really think about what’s next in the larger sense... Staying alive has been the main priority.”

Kuill hummed again, glancing over at the kid. “You weren’t looking for something greater, but it appears to have found you.”

“I...,” you started. You watched the child, who was siting on the hard ground admiring the silver ball clutched in his hand. “I’m not sure.”

“I have spoken,” said Kuill, bowing his head, and he lapsed back into silence.

You watched the kid as he dropped the ball and staggered to his feet, squealing excitedly as he chased a lizard that darted past him. You wondered where Din was at this exact moment, and your heart squeezed in a familiar way.

***

The second night was much like the first. You walked outside for some time, thinking of all the awful things that could be happening to Din.

What if they turn on him?

What if another hunter finds him?

What if he doesn’t come back?

It wasn't a crazy thought. You were used to people not coming back.

Until that moment, you hadn't considered that you'd be the sole guardian of the kid if Din didn't return. For a split second, you felt the crushing weight of responsibility for the life and safety and happiness of the tiny green child that Din must feel at all times.

Eventually you fell into a fitful sleep, waking early, and the day dawned bright and cold. As the sun climbed, the chill rapidly dissipated, making way for a dry heat that seemed to be the only weather condition on Arvala-7.

You spent the morning helping Kuill continue the repairs on IG-11. You did your best to not count the hours that slipped by. He’d said it could take three days, so there was no reason to be concerned yet.

But... did he mean he would return ON the third day? Or the fourth day?

And for that matter... did the day he left count as day one? Or was yesterday day one?

Did he mean seventy-two hours from the time he left? Or that he’d be back at the start of the third day?

How did I not clarify this before he left??

That evening, you were in deep in discussion about artificial intelligence when Kuill said, “I believe your Mandalorian has returned to you.” He pointed behind you, and you whipped around to see the Crest touching down in a cloud of dust in the distance.

“Will you—?” you asked, turning back to Kuill.

“I will watch the child.” He seemed vaguely amused by your enthusiasm.

You sprang to your feet and walked as fast as you could toward the Crest. You briefly considered running, but that felt dramatic. He’d only been gone a couple days.

Why did he land so fucking far away?

You’d made it about half the distance when the ramp of the Crest finally began to lower with a hiss. Your resolve snapped, and you started to jog. Din descended the ramp, and you were so relieved to see him that you weren’t even embarrassed anymore that you were literally running to him.

Din cocked his head—a curious head tilt—when he saw you sprinting at him across the dusty ground. He paused at the bottom of the ramp.

“Are you—?” he started to say as you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He barely budged upon impact.

His shoulders relaxed immediately, and he pulled you tight against him.

Well, if he wasn’t a hugger before, he is now.

“I’m okay,” he reassured you.

“Good,” you said into the fabric bunched around his neck.

After a moment, you released him and stepped back, the steadying weight of his hands remaining on your arms. He looked like he was in one piece, but the slight heaviness in his shoulders told you that the job had taken a toll on him.

“I, uh, missed you too,” he said, a little awkwardly.

You smiled at him and took his gloved hand in yours to walk back towards Kuill’s home. You felt slightly giddy that you were casually holding the Mandalorian’s hand. He seemed taken by it too, his helmet tilted down to where your fingers were intertwined.

“The kid?” he asked, looking up to your face.

“He’s good. Misses you, I think. Ate several frogs. And one lizard. The usual. He is disgusting,” you laughed.

Din made a sound that you would almost swear was a snort. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed fondly.

Kuill was waiting outside his home, the child in his arms. When you and Din were close, Kuill set him down, and the baby tottered over to wrap his tiny arms around Din’s calf.

You watched as Din bent stiffly, slowly to pick up the kid.

“You’re hurt,” you realized.

“I'm fine,” he said.

You felt sure that wasn’t true, but you let it be for the moment.

“Thank you,” Din addressed Kuill. He reached into the pouch of his belt for credits.

“I will not accept payment,” Kuill insisted, shaking his head. “In fact, your friend here helped me make great progress on my current project.” Kuill raised his eyebrows at you.

“Very well,” Din acquiesced.

You gathered your things and said your thank yous and goodbyes, returning to the Crest, which—with a jolt—you realized was already starting to feel like home.

***

Chapter 8

***

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#my writing #tempered glass #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x f!reader #mature #mando x you #mando x female reader #mando x f!reader

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aching-tummies · 3 years ago

Text

Surprise Hunger Con’t

If I was with a partner for the events depicted in "Surprise Hunger" I think I can finally put to words some scenario I'd have wanted:

I ended up falling asleep before I got to feel the pasta digesting. Such a shame. It was a golden opportunity to indulge in tummy kink and I fell asleep. I was exhausted, for sure, but damn that was a wasted opportunity. If I was with a partner, I'd have wanted them to take advantage of the situation barring the use of an agreed-upon safe-word. Keep me up and help me get that glut of curry and pasta moving. I would have wanted them to be more sadistic to my stuffed belly rather than sweet and caring. Knead into it, punch it, smack it around and get everything really churning away in there. Either get it to digest faster or get it all out of me...just do something to make the "too full--going to pop" feeling go away or change somehow.

I'm really shy about tummy stuff in real life and I assume it'd be the same even if I had a partner. They'd have to play detective or something and confront me about it to coax the truth out of me. Maybe they know all that and just make it a habit to feel up my tummy to get to the truth regardless if they have suspicions or not. I was stuffed, aching, and biting back my own moans because I was alone...but if I had a partner I'd probably be too embarrassed to do any of that and I'd just be still and will my tummy to stop hurting and then I'd try to hide it from my partner via retiring to my room or something. It would have been a golden opportunity for the "Surprise Inspection" trope where they clutch and jostle my aching tummy without warning. I'd want them to be sadistic, of course. Maybe they heard some of the deep grumbles from my stuffed belly being at a loss for what to do with all the food and they decided to get in on the action, punishing my stomach for being noisy or for not knowing what to do with the food (you're a stomach...your sole purpose in existence is to digest food!). Harsh prodding, pushing their palms and fingers into my slightly rounded out tummy, testing the very little give my stretched middle has and delighting in wresting some moans from me. They want to get me to protest their ministrations--"babe...ah! t-that hurts! N-Not there! Please--AH! Ouch! -urp-ugh...stop" or something--and as much as I love all that...in a real life situation I'd totally be too embarrassed to give into living out my kink scenarios. They'd have to push me--literally and figuratively, in order to get the scenario we both actually wanted. They want me to admit that my tum hurts. They want me to become moaning, groaning, aching putty on their lap...they'll definitely have to work for it.

I woke up still feeling quite stuffed and opted to skip breakfast, only to find out that the phantom fullness was a lie and that my tummy was actually starving. Crouching stuffing, hidden hunger. If I had a partner, their ministrations would have probably made it so that the phantom feeling wasn't even a thing. After giving my stuffed tum a good work-out I probably would have been woken up by a hunger pang and have no doubts about whether or not I was hungry.

If by some miracle I managed to wake up stuffed after what my imaginary lover would have done to my guts, I think they would have spent the morning gently kneading my tummy, doing their best to finish the job. That loud, wet, grumble that kick-started my 'hunger' in the series of events would have been coaxed out by their hands--probably a lot sooner than 10 minutes before I have to leave.

Lets say my partner offers to drive me to work rather than me having to take transit. In that case we could probably indulge in a bit of hunger kink because we have an hour or so before my shift actually starts. They're in control of where we go and when we get there...the only condition being that I've got to get to work on time and that I'd prefer it if I didn't have to work while hungry. Maybe they'll drive around for a bit, occasionally reaching over to tease my grumbling tummy when they could be reaching to shift gears. We're driving out early and I'm under the impression that we're going to grab breakfast from somewhere, together, before my shift. Eventually, my hunger makes me a bit snippy when I ask if we'll be stopping anywhere for food before my shift...and that I'm done playing, that I gotta get serious for work and I don't want to be hungry or horny while I work. Surprise, they bring out a wrap or a sandwich or whatever that they had prepared for me before we left the house (secretly)...meaning that the drive was totally unnecessary. They just wanted to hear my tummy grumbling for a little bit and to watch me squirming and fighting with my tummy in the passenger seat, too shy to let it growl despite it hitting both of us in our kinks when it does. They park outside of my workplace...and I've got 20 minutes to get the food down as they rub and pat my belly, ensuring that I won't get a lasting tummy ache from eating so quickly. My tummy would be very vocal about the sudden influx of food. Thank Gosh for partner's tummy rubs because without them I'd definitely be cramping and aching as my stomach tried to figure out what to do with the food. Maybe partner is sadistic even now and decides on a hands-off approach...and he watches me writhe and squirm in the passenger seat with a confused tummy stuck on trying to digest something for a few minutes. He lets it go until I'm begging to be let out of the locked car to get to my shift. He'll let me out on-time, of course, but not before we indulge in a bit of last-minute tum-stuff. In reality, I'd want/need the rubs to ensure my tummy didn't ache from eating quickly...but yeah...having him watch me squirm and me fighting my instincts to beg for rubs would be an interesting scenario.

Partner is satisfied with our little hunger adventures...but I've got a surprise for him. I get off work in the afternoon and I opt to go home hungry rather than stop somewhere to eat. I walk in the door and hug them to greet them and relax my stomach muscles, releasing the pent-up rumble of hunger that I had been carefully cultivating since the end of my shift.

Fantasy scenario aside, a little update on what I did after I posted "Surprise Hunger"

After my shiift, I opted to stay hungry coming home in the afternoon. I wanted to save a bit of money by not indulging in fast-food. I came home and I was exhausted so I decided to nap and/or mess around with hunger pangs for a while. My stomach wasn't too vocal...but man did it hurt. The hunger cramps rippled in my guts and I felt like a tattered piece of fabric with silent cramps and grumbles burbling all over my digestive tract. I ended up writhing on my bed for a few hours rather than napping.

Eventually, 10PM rolled around and I knew I'd better fill my belly before going to sleep. I had another shift ahead of me for the next day so I had to make sure I was good on sleep and on being fed. I went down and ate some lukewarm leftovers of the dinner my family had gone through and saved for me. The food had sat on the counter for a couple of hours and maybe I should have heated it up...but I was tired and hungry so I just went with it. My tummy got a little upset at the late and lukewarm offering, but it accepted it and I managed to sleep with minimal griping from my tummy. My next shift went alright. I'll see what I want to indulge in later tonight.

#tummy ache #tummy kink #tummy ache kink #stuffing kink #stomach ache #belly rubs #tummy torture

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erzherzog-von-edelstein · 3 years ago

Note

Bavaria x Greece

falls asleep on the couch

Either of them could do it. But Heracles is fantastic at sleeping on literally any surface. He will take a midday nap any part of the day and anywhere.

makes friends with the neighbors

Both, but never underestimate how gregarious Leopold is. He could talk to anyone and make friends with them. Never underestimate the power of Bavarian hospitality. But Heracles is also a very social person. It's one of the things they have in common.

is the adventurous eater

Both of them. If it swims, Heracles has probably eaten it at some point in his life. If you can hunt it, Leopold has probably tried it. They really are up for anything.

hogs the covers at night

Heracles. He doesn't mean to, but he grabs onto the covers and moves a lot while he sleeps. Then Leopold has to wrestle the covers back.

forgets to do the dishes

Heracles. He isn't a very responsible person, and he is not that bothered by having mess around him. It sometimes goes like this: He says he'll do the dishes, decides to take a nap first, and completely forgets about it when he wakes up.

tries to surprise their partner more often

Leopold. Gifts and acts of service are his love languages, so being able to surprise Heracles really makes him happy. He loves coming up with exciting experiences to do together.

leaves dirty laundry on the floor

Heracles. Again, he lives in his own casual chaos. Leopold doesn't do that, so he is the tidier one by default.

stays up til 2 AM reading

Both, though Heracles' sleep schedule is especially strange. So he'll be up at that hour reading archeology journals and act like it is perfectly normal.

sings in the shower

Both. They're both very enthusiastic and musical people, and they will gladly take the opportunity to sing.

takes the selfies

Heracles, though they both enjoy taking pictures together.

plans date night

Leopold. Though plan may be a generous word for it. They agree to turn up somewhere at the same time and do something fun, and then take it from there.

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pastel9girlbunny000die · 4 years ago

Text

Age Gap... AU

Part 1

One Piece The Monster trio~

♡The characters are all between 27-29 unless said otherwise

♡The s/o is between 16-18

Warning: ...Kissing and Cuddles? PDA and nakedness, smoking and drinking

***

Monkey D. Luffy🍖

🍖Dating a younger s/o has never really been a problem or something bad for Luffy

🍖Cause his more of a child than you are.

🍖People outside of your friend group always assumed that you guys are good friends or relatives.

🍖When Luffy's friends found out you two where dating, they we're really supportive and made you feel part of a great social group... better than the poeple you hang out at school

🍖Same with Luffy's family. They accepted you as part of the family without hesitation, but still trying to wrap their heads around how you two even started dating???

🍖Umm ugh... Your family not so much... Your parents weren't very happy about you dating an older guy like Luffy.

🍖It made them worry

🍖But! You did reinsurer them it's was all fine. He has a decent job makes enough to support a family has a nice cozy home and a loving personality.

🍖it got them off your back for a while~

🍖Buttttttt~😏

🍖when it comes to Luffy's looks, he looks pretty young for his age already reaching his late twenties.

🍖When telling others that your in fact dating doing all the sweet loving couples stuff, they believe you since he looks like an older classmate from your school.

🍖But when you tell then his infact an working adult... they don't believe you, they just take it as a bad joke.

🍖You never ask your meat brain for help with homework cause you might start fooling around instead of doing it, if his presence is around you during school work or studying.

🍖Luffy doesn't really care about age since he loves you for who you are rather than what age gender or colours you are.

🍖And he does it unconditionally.

🍖He loves it when you cook a big meat feast for a king! or you randomly give him cuddles or cheeks kisses. It makes his heart beat exstra fast and butterfly's fluttering all around in his stomach.

🍖Luffy introduced you to a lot of new food and you love most of the dishes. But also found a few new food allergies you never knew you had.

🍖Let's just say you know the hospital staff pretty well now.

🍖Small loving touches like these matters a lot to him like all the little things you do for him. It makes him extremely happy.

🍖PDA 😏*Public display of affection*

🍖Luffy doesn't mind holding hands or little pecks here and there in public.

🍖But holding his hand comes with consequences... be prepared to be dragged from placed to place in a public shopping mall or market cause he won't let go when he runs from food course to food course.

🍖But when it comes to PDA kissing, he only allows the quick peck on the lips or cheeks he doesn't do the long make out session. His not one to sit still in one place for too long.

🍖His your man child after all.

Roronoa Zoro ⚔

⚔Zoro doesn't care.

⚔He dates you cause you are you.

⚔He has never been really the one to judge based on looks but when he met you he saw nothing but the most beautiful thing in the world.

⚔He has a really direct personality and isn't really the one to talk much or too clingy.

⚔Zoro doesn't have a solid job he switches from part time to part time, and one of his joba is the reason he met his s/o.

⚔He got lost on his way too your school and ended up bumping into you, literally.

⚔He nicely asked for directions and you gladly let him tag along with you, even though he sometimes turns the wrong way.

⚔It turned out he applied as a substitute teacher for a month at the boys kendo club.

⚔So you had a lot of time getting to know each other 😏~

⚔Other than that he hit it off pretty well with his s/o. From hanging out at school during lunch, to after school and weekends.

⚔That's how you ended up asking him out on a date.

(Definitely demanding to pick him up!!!)

⚔Than started dating. You later on met his group of friends which surprised you though to him not being a kind of person to hang out with a loud bunch but thier his life long friends and good people, you ended up liking them quicker than your school friends.

⚔Zoro's parents have already passed away and his is the only child so it was sad that you didn't get to meet his family and thank them for making this hard working lovable idiot.

⚔It took you awhile to work up the courage to let your family meet Zoro. It's not that you care about if they liked him or not all you wanted to know if they'll let you be with him and keep loving your marimo.

⚔Their reactions where priceless. But they were okay with it. Since they knew the swordsman from high school and he wouldn't do anything to seriously hurt you.

⚔Telling others that you and Zoro are indeed a couple is weird to them he has a bleak personality and a horrible attitude along with him being in his late 20s.

⚔You on the other hand are sunshine and rainbows all the time full of energy and always positive.

⚔How does that mix?

⚔In public you guys always gets mistaken for father and daughter/Son. But you brush it off and claiming your a couple.

⚔Which surprised them but they don't push further though to Zoro sending them glares.

⚔One thing you love about Zoro is taking little naps together. Anywhere the couch, bed, floor, bath tub anywhere you start cuddling him he'll fall asleep on you a few minutes after you'd follow.

⚔He tought you Kendo. And let's say you got a new hobby.

⚔You once asked him to help you with homework. Next day you came in with the excuse, "Ma'am my dog ate my homework."

⚔Zoro loves you with all his heart sometimes he can't help but feel like he doesn't deserve you or his holding you back?

⚔But you reinsurer him with him is the happiest you have felt in you life.

⚔PDA 😳*Public display of affection*

⚔His not really good with affection but he doesn't push you off when you want a hug or two maybe even kisses he will allow it.

⚔His also not clinging kind of guy. So waking around in public he won't hold your hand but he will put an arm around your neck.

⚔And in return one of your hands slips into the back pocket of his jeans giving you the opportunity to squeeze his ass whenever you desire.

⚔He let's it slide. With a tiny blush.

⚔While walking around in any public place you always keep an exstra eye on him (like a parent making sure not to lose thier kid in a large place).

⚔Your more relaxed when his arm is around you meaning you'll be near him at all times. But when his not your six sense activate to mama bear mode all eyes on him at every second.

⚔In one day at the mall you caught him almost mindlessly walking off in a random direction or out the store.

⚔You had to chase after him.

⚔PDA Kissing😚~ Like I said he doesn't mind it but when he gets a little drunk he full on gets you sucked into a full blown make out session he doesn't care where. In public, at home, in you home, out with his/your friends even near your parents. Nothing gets in his ways of what he wants.

⚔Not even your embarrassment.

⚔After all your stuck with your Marimo.

Sanji Vinsmoke 🚬

🚬Sanji is a complete different case than the other two mentioned above.

🚬He's a hopeless romantic.

🚬First time you met him he was dress as a okama. A first expression you'll never forget, For awhile you wonder who that woman was and thought you'll never cross paths again

🚬Destiny proofed you wrong.

🚬You met him again at the Baratie one of the most famous restaurants in town.

🚬In the end you guys talked the night away, you probably interacted with him more than the poeple you came with.

🚬Later on he invites you for a free homemade meal, personally made by him.

🚬He also gave you his number~ 😚😏

🚬That's how you met.

🚬And later on you two became closer there was just this unique thing about Sanji that made you like him more.

🚬Yes he treats woman with the at most respect and kindness, randomly complements any woman he comes across.

🚬Like a true gentleman.

🚬But in his eyes you felt different. He flirts more with you, he does small sweet things for you.

🚬And don't forget the mouthwatering lunch boxes you get to take school.

🚬Sanji spoils his s/o with a lot of affection he can't go a day without a hug or kiss, if he doesn't get either one of them he will genuinely worry.

🚬Sanji thinks it's cute that your younger than him, it gives him more of a responsibility vibe when his near you.

🚬He practically treats his young s/o like the rightful queen/King they are.

🚬But that doesn't mean his a little negative when it came to his age, his not that old reaching his late 20s, he has his doubts.

🚬But when he has these bad thoughts you can see it on his face, it made you sad that he thinks you'd leave him for someone younger.

🚬Your response is making him some nice relaxing hot tea and cuddle him in a blanket whispering sweet words of love to him

🚬It lights his mood a bit.

🚬From time to time, Sanji's s/o gets jealous by the way he treats other women, you could be a little selfish just wanting him to only look at you in that way.

🚬You weren't surprised when you met his friends they care about Sanji as much as you did, they also loved you, finally happy that he got a lover so they could stop hearing his complaints about his single life.

🚬And they kinda use him for free meals. Especially Luffy the leader of their little friends group he always whines for meat, it kinda cute.

🚬You can't really ask Sanji for help in school work/homework, his a high school dropout. And the only thing he can actually help with is cooking classes which you hate. But at least your grades picked up in that class

🚬Sanji never let's you meet his biological family, he forbids the topic and avoids it at all cost. But couldn't wait for you to meet Zeff his adopted father, he literally dragged you to his childhood home to meet the old geezer.

🚬Zeff took you in the moment he met you and treated you like his own daughter/son, he also said "Finally I can rest in peace knowing you won't die alone." At Sanji.

🚬Which result in a small argument.

🚬Like Sanji you refuse to let him meet your parents, afraid they won't accept the relationship and force you apart. So you always give him the excuse that you want to wait or not ready yet.

🚬He respect your decision, and won't interfere or go behind your back. If you can wait so will he.

🚬Buttttttttt😱

🚬One night your Dad/Father decided that the family should go out to eat, give your mom/mother a little break from cooking.

🚬You agree to go aswell. Without knowing which restaurant.

🚬Guess where you went😏

🚬Yes... The Baratie!!!

🚬Your soul left your body. I mean Sanji should be off right ? Right ? Its weekend.

🚬But it got worse when you saw a glimpse of him in the kitchen and your eyes meet.

🚬What go worst that your Mom/Mother took a seat in Sanji's section of the restaurant.

🚬Meaning he will serve you.

🚬At this point you give up and just let it be, tonight your life as well as your relationship will come crashing down.

🚬Mindlessly sitting down, at that moment Sanji came bursting through the kitchen doors like a tornado heading towards you

🚬Wrapped his arms around you kissing you all over your face, right in front of your family.

🚬They where far beyond shock.

🚬By the time Sanji let's go of you, you looked like a morning person who just got out of bed, hair messy clothes messy and a blank look on your face.

🚬It didn't take long for them to start drowning you with questions.

🚬In the end you made sure to tell them,

"Mom/Mother Dad/Father, this is Sanji his the head chef of the Baratie, his also m-my boyfriend."

🚬Your mom/Mother got offended that your dating a professional cook, that is most likely better at cooking than her.

🚬Your Dad got offended that your dating someone older close to his age. (He can't really give the if you hurt my little girl/boy I will end you speech, the blonde must've heard it for a long time and just wouldn't be treated by it.)

🚬But they saw how worried you looked holding Sanji's hand tightly, the blonde seemed ready to start a argument if they would be against you two.

🚬In the end they smiled and nodded.

🚬Sanji and his s/o couldn't be more happy as instant took over and you two kissed passionately and long.

🚬Your Dad/Father had to clear his throat reminding you where you are.

🚬You broke apart blushing.

🚬It all ended up happy.

🚬Telling your parents weren't easy but now that you know that thier okay with your relationship made it easier to tell others.

🚬Let me tell you, Yes Sanji is older than you and everyone can tell that by his looks, so they just assume you guys are relatives or brothers/brother and sister.

🚬Sanji always corrects them, Your his lover not family member.

🚬That's when they turn to you asking if his black mailing you.

🚬You just simply say "No."

🚬You don't need to give others an explanation, knowing you two love each other very much.

🚬Despise Sanji's appearance you ignore his good looking hot abs and body and turn to his eyebrows and personally others make fun of how unnatural they are but they are the most lovable features on him that you like the most.

🚬Sanji smokes, and yes you know that. You never complain or ask him to stop, but you did ask him why he does, he simply just said "I started to smoke to piss off the geezer, I was just a stupid teenager at the time."

🚬You don't like cooking so that kinda got Sanji down, but you didn't mind helping out once in awhile.

🚬You love make overs dressing up and looking pretty. Which made him happy that he can share his okama side with you, you love doing his make up. aswell as styling his blonde wig.

🚬That's how he brought you to meet Iva one of his friends at the kamabakka night club.

🚬You really enjoyed it there and all the others you met.

🚬It was really fun seeing Sanji in his more feminine side and dress as a girl.

🚬It made you happy that he even share his most inner self with you.

🚬Sanji is really happy that you accept and love him for who he is.

🚬PDA *Public display of affection*

🚬Sanji is all over you hand holding, kissing, hugging even making out.

🚬He let's you hold hands and doesn't mind random kisses on his cheeks but he personally prefers his mouth over his cheeks.

🚬PDA kissing 😏~ One thing he loves is being taller than you, so when you want to give affection by kissing you have to stand on you tip toes and only able to reach his jawline.

🚬So you just kiss him from his jaw to his collarbone. Secretly leaving a mark😏~

🚬But when you go out with him dress as a Okama he doesn't let you kiss him much or hold hands but he doesn't mind locking arms with you.

🚬Just to know you're near, and save.

🚬He has one hell of a kick, You found out that out when you guys went out to a bar with Iva and some of his other friends (You didn't drink, being a minor and all but you did have a glass of soda or water).

🚬At some point Sanji got up to use the bathroom. And when he got back he saw a drunk guy harassing his s/o

🚬So with one hit he kicked the living hell out of the guy. (It didn't ended well for that guy, must've hurt more with the high heels boots Sanji's was wearing kicked him😵)

🚬And Sanji angrily dragged his s/o home early.

🚬It surprised you since Sanji wasn't really violent around you much, but knowing he'd even get into a fight to protect you. Made you happy and felt loved. He is the blonde cook you fell in love with after all.

***

#One piece #fanfic #male reader #fem reader #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #sanji vinsmoke #luffy #Zoro #Sanji #One piece fanfic #anime

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winterromanov · 5 years ago

Note

Maybe a college Bucky one where he’s being playing games out of town, and trying to study for exams and he’s just so tired but trying to keep going and reader makes him nap and relax and it’s just very Soft ☺️

pairing: bucky x reader (set in the same universe as this fic)

Trying to play football and also be a competent college student is an Incredibly Difficult Feat. You know this, because watching Bucky vault himself from away games to home games to mid terms to finals is about the most exhausting thing you’ve ever seen. If he’s not studying he’s at practice, and if he’s not playing he’s in an exam. It’s like watching a manic, sleep-deprived whirlwind, living almost entirely off coffee and takeout noodles.

He’s not taking care of himself. He’s pushing and pushing and pushing, trying not to let anybody down--as if he could ever do that.

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you say, as he crashes face-down on the bed in your dorm, the night before he leaves to play a game at Harvard and minutes after his Cold War history deadline. You’ve not seen him eat anything the last twenty-four hours. “Look--you won the last game. Steve said you could sit this one out.”

A vague mumbling comes from your bed. His face is smothered by the pillow and he’s too exhausted to even turn over, so you poke his ass with your foot. His hand reaches out, reflexes still ridiculously quick, pulling you onto the bed with him.

“Sorry, love,” you smirk, curling as close to him as your tiny mattress will allow. His arm pulls you close to his waist, palm splayed across your back. His heartbeat is unrelenting beneath his shirt, thudding between you. “Didn’t quite hear that one.”

His head shifts so you’re basically nose-to-nose, his grin sleepy and delirious. He’s gonna pass out any second. You’ve seen it many, many times before in the last hectic few weeks--you’re probably gonna see it a few more. “I’ll be fine after nap. Promise.”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep before I can force a pizza down you,” you warn, and he laughs, deliberately snuggling into the pillow and letting his eyes flicker closed. You can’t resist--running your hand through his hair, along his face. Kiss his forehead. “Goddamn it, Buck. You’re making it very difficult for me to look after you.”

“You being here is enough,” he says softly and before you have chance to reply he’s gone, lost in some dream. You slowly creep out of his embrace, making the pizza for him anyway. By the time you wake up the next day his body is a phantom shape in your bed but the pizza is gone--he’s left you a bright pink post-it note on the plate. Scribbled in his usual scrawl are the words thank you always favourite girl.

we won!!! harvard ain’t better than us at FOOTBALL

wish u could have been there

renaissance lit is being a bitch :(( well done you STAR. miss you more every moment so get back quick

should i hijack the bus and speed down the freeway

if you must

consider it done

love you

love you more than anything

The next game is thankfully a home one against Yale so you can at least keep an eye on him--you’re just protective, that’s all, not wanting him to burn out in front of you. There’s a lot of gym sessions and library cramming and a grand total of one dinner date at his apartment, where you made a pasta dish with as many vegetables as you could think of in as possible (his mom had sent you a message afterwards with immense gratitude because her son needed his greens, damn it). The following evening you’d wrapped yourself in one of his jerseys and sat in the bleachers alongside an injured Sam--injured and bitter about it--and waited in the lights and the noise for the game to begin.

“Bucky tells me you’re worried about him,” Sam interjects rather suddenly and when you blink back, he shrugs his non-injured shoulder nonchalantly. “Not that I blame you. That dude just doesn’t let up, does he?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shivering a little. The November air is cold, even wearing Bucky’s sweater. “He keeps telling me the season will be over before long, but I...I don’t want that to be a couple of weeks too much for him, you know?”

Sam hums thoughtfully. Around you, the crowd practically fizzes with excitement, covered with facepaint and aggressively chanting team songs at the opposing side. You’d never been to a college football game before you started dating one of the team’s star players, but you have to admit, the atmosphere is kinda addictive. Watching Bucky play is kinda addictive.

“If I know Bucky, and boy do I know him,” Sam eventually replies, squeezing up closer to you as more people gather into your stand. A girl is openly staring at you both--it doesn’t happen that often, but more so at games. People know Bucky, and Sam, so people know you. “He’ll get through this all okay. He always does, (Y/N). I’d been pretty damn surprised if he doesn’t make captain next year.”

You stare at the bright, clean grass of the field, and think of a boy so fucking exhausted from trying to balance his life that he can barely function half the time. Bucky would be an awesome captain. You just don’t want him to become a dead firework because of it.

The game ends up being pretty close but Yale just snatch the victory. It doesn’t mean that they can’t win the season, but. Bucky makes his way over to your stand at the end of the game like he always does, taking off his helmet and mouthguard. He also looks extremely deflated, like he always does when they lose.

“It’s okay,” you say, taking his face in your hands. He looks angry at himself. And you know what he’s thinking. I should have pushed harder. “Shit happens. You were still amazing.”

He kisses you over the barrier in a display of affection you were once too shy to give away in public, but you need him as much as he needs you. When you break apart you plant a chaste, gentle peck on his jawline, running your thumb over the shadow.

“You two make me sick,” Sam interrupts the moment, arms folded. Bucky flips him off while smiling sweetly and you can’t help but laugh. “Honestly. Didn’t ask to be violated, but here we are.”

“Payback for every single time I’ve walked in on you doing unspeakable things with the girl from the top floor on our kitchen counter.” Bucky snaps back teasingly. You like watching the banter unfold between the two of them. You’d be worried if Bucky and Sam weren’t taking the piss at every given opportunity.

Sam gestures pointedly at his injured right shoulder. “I cannot believe you’d treat a fallen comrade like that. I’m disgusted.”

“And so was I when I saw the state of the kitchen counter.” Bucky gives you one last kiss, clutching your hand. “See you after I hit the showers, yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting.” Your promise him, and his eyes glow just a little brighter.

When Bucky facetimes you from Brown the very next week, he looks like he hasn’t slept for at least three days. His Ancient Chinese history exam is literally a day after he arrives back from the trip and he’s frantically cramming in his hotel room in Rhode Island, while also trying not to fuck up the team’s chances of winning the season.

“Just one more game after this,” his grainy voice says on the other end of the video feed, head lolling against the headboard of his Holiday Inn bed. You wish he was in your bed. God, you wish he was in your bed. “And the season is over and I don’t have to be away from you ever again.”

“I don’t think your mom would like it if I stole you away for Thanksgiving.” You joke, tongue poking between your teeth. His lips curve, half a laugh escaping from his chest.

“That’s why she personally invited you to stay with us for the holidays. She’s worried you might sneak in there first and drag me to Virginia. She already knows I’d go wherever you go.”

Your smile is kinda wistful. “Except when you go to Rhode Island.”

“Except when I go to Rhode Island.” He repeats, sighing dramatically. He rubs one of his tired eyes. “Ugh. Who thought coinciding pre-Thanksgiving exams and football season was a good idea, huh?”

“I have no idea, but I’m prepared to have words with them.” You tilt your head. “Don’t work too hard, yeah? It’s one exam. It’ll all be okay in the end.”

“I know, I know.”

You want to keep talking, on and on until the early hours like you do sometimes, because time is apparently not real when you and Bucky are on the phone together. But he needs sleep, and you need sleep, and occasionally you’ll do things for the greater good. “Good luck for tomorrow. Brown won’t know what’s hit ‘em.”

“They better not,” he jokes, “Will you be live-streaming the game?”

As if you wouldn’t. You can’t pretend that you always know what’s going on or any of the rules, but you always try to watch him if you can. He’d do the same for you, over and over and over. “Already got the tab open on my laptop and everything.”

Bucky’s grin is near effervescent, even through your patchy wifi connection. “I love you more than anything, you know that?”

“I may have had an inkling.”

hello y/n

HELLLOOOOO

u know brown are the best losers because they lose and give you TEQUILA

omg are you drunk

never been DRUNK IN MY LIFE!!!! but im at this cool party and stEv e has found a girl and i miss u

i miss u so much . and like i just do generally

whenever ur not ar oUnd

oh sweet boy. you are very drunk.

im serious though

sometimes i think about how much i love you and it scares me

because then i th ink what it would be like if you wreent there

and that makes me so fucking sad i cant breathe

y/n

y/n ???????????????

hellooo

have u gone to bed

no, just messaging steve to make sure he gets you back safe. im not going anywhere. just please please look after yourself. love you always

“I’m sorry about those messages I sent you last night.”

You grab him in the tightest hug possible, his hold all still hanging off his arm, rain spattering down from dark clouds outside his apartment block. You hold him for at least ten years, you reckon, because the thought of him being so fucking sad he can’t breathe makes you so fucking sad you can’t breathe.

“You’re a terrible drunk who says things that make me emotional.” You laugh tearfully into his sweater and he grips you even harder, if possible. The shards of glass jabbed between your ribs start to dissolve as you inhale every single part of him.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I know.”

His last game is the day of your renaissance literature exam and for once you’ve been the one not eating and relying on caffeine, anxiety lingering round your jittery bones like an irritating ghost. Your interactions with Bucky are a battle between you wishing him aggressive luck for what could be the winning game while he equally aggressively says your exam will go fine, they always go fine, it’s an easy A for sure.

Your exam isn’t until the afternoon so you spend the morning pacing about your bedroom looking at a sporadic mess of post-it notes on your wall declaring quotes and context that you hope will just stick in your brain. When Lizzie from down the hall says there’s a package for you you don’t actually think much of it, too busy to deal with something you’ve probably forgotten you ordered from Amazon--but she makes some comment about how fancy it is, wrapped up in striped paper.

Your name is in print across the front so it doesn’t leave a clue on the sender, but as soon as you rip into it and find a bundle of things nestled between tissue paper, you know instantly. It’s kind of embarrassing you didn’t click sooner.

Dear Y/N - you’ll ace it, favourite gal.

You try not to break down in sleep-deprived and emotional tears as you pull out a brand new sweater in your favourite shade of burgundy, a vintage copy of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, three different kind of Hershey’s bars and a dumb little teddy bear wearing your college jersey. He’s sent you a fucking care package. He’s away at Princeton, and he’s sent you a care package, because exams drive you crazy and he’s just... Well, he’s Bucky.

i got your present

have i ever mentioned that i love you

i may have had an inkling

He doesn’t really leave you a choice, does he? Besides, the game is only at Princeton, and if you catch the train the moment you escape the uneasy warmth of a crowded exam hall you should be able to get there in time.

You’ve never been to Princeton stadium before, but you grab one of the last tickets available and rush onto their crowded bleachers just before the game is about to begin. The lights are heady, the atmosphere is electric, and you’re about to watch the man you lovingly, completely, unrelentingly call your own play the game he loves almost as much as you at a stadium forty miles from home.

hey steve, you text his closest friend, hoping he’ll see it, get buck to look at the front of the stairs near block d when you come out

y/n if this is what i think it means he’s going to lose his goddamn mind

When the team runs out you notice the number five on his jersey straight away, a constant fleeting image in your head from the countless games you’ve seen him play. Even from a distance, Steve’s eyes catch your own and his arm starts gesturing violently in your direction, Bucky taking a couple of moments to catch on.

It’s a good job the game isn’t due to start for a few more minutes, because absolutely nothing can stop him from automatically sprinting to your side of the field and kissing you senseless, cameras and crowds be damned.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he says on a dizzy outtake of breath.

“Couldn’t miss the last game of the season, could I?” You gently push his chest, urging him to go back to his team. “And neither can you. Go back to them. I’ll be waiting.”

He steals your lips for one more second, giddy and pumped full of adrenaline. “I really lucked out the day I met you, didn’t I?”

His mouth is hot. Hot. Unmistakable. Real. Always, always real. “Not as lucky as me.”

my masterlist

send me a request

#big oof #ridiculously fluffy #soft bucky #college!bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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chelseaheskett · 4 years ago

Text

5:22PM, THURSDAY. JANUARY 30TH, 2020.

She hated the idea of Elliot having to do more work after a full day at the office, preparing to take his first solo case to court—but the box for Vanessa’s new bed frame, leaned against the wall in the twins room, was starting to create a safety hazard. Late in the week, when he got home from work, Chelsea greeted him with a kiss and a proposition. The babies were napping in the playpen downstairs, so it gave them the perfect window of opportunity to finally set it up. Well... Chelsea was there for moral support. Verbal encouragement! She was there to supervise. She couldn’t reach down and hand him any of his tools, or anything, so she relaxed into the rocking chair in the corner of the bedroom, sipping on a cool glass of lemonade. “Where are the coveralls!?” She whined when he came into the room and settled onto the floor. Much to her dismay, Elliot had stripped down to a loose white tank top and sweat pants. Chelsea wasn’t happy about it! No matter how good he looked otherwise! Sex fantasies aside, though, they had a job to do.

Halfway through, when the bottom of the bed frame was all screwed together, Elliot got the best of her. She’d been distracting him the entire time with her running commentary: constantly telling him how good he looked, how much she loved him, how hot this whole thing was making her feel. She got down on the floor under the guise of offering him some assistance, but really it was just an excuse to get close and touch him. His skin was shiny with sweat, his hair was falling all over his face. The touching started out semi innocent. A hand on his back, at the base of his neck, on his bicep. Brushing the hair off his forehead. Kissing him on the cheek, just because she could. Trailing her mouth down to his throat, and kissing his sweet spot until he squirmed. Her hands started to stray, too, until Elliot dropped the screwdriver and construction on the bed momentarily halted.

Chelsea had to let him finish putting the bed frame together all by his lonesome. A baby monitor went off a few minutes post-orgasm, and Chelsea went and tended to the kids with wobbly legs walking down the stairs. Fed them and started on dinner for her and Elliot while he worked. Took Vanessa to unveil her big girl bed after bath time. She climbed straight over the railing, instead of crawling through the appropriate opening, and squealed. Chelsea scoffed to hide her laughter. “Puppy dog!” Vanessa pointed to one printed on her bed sheets. She’d been a huge help in picking them out when they went shopping the previous weekend. Elliot had to tuck her in. Like Jack’s bed, it was too low to the ground for Chelsea and her pregnant belly. She was getting so big, thirty-two weeks along now, that it was hard to even hold Isaac, and lift him into his crib. Her little boy seemed happy in his cot. Didn’t care too much about Vanessa’s new bed, thank God. Chelsea cuddled him and said goodnight.

Somehow, but somehow not surprising, Elliot was strong enough to move Vanessa’s old crib into their bedroom all by himself. Chelsea kept forgetting about it, and practically tripped over it multiple times in the middle of the night on her way to the toilet. The baby was constantly putting hard pressure on her bladder, and flaring up bursts of pain in her abdomen on and off all night. Elliot must’ve fallen asleep before she did, for once. She felt utterly exhausted and like she’d gotten no sleep whatsoever by the time morning came and Elliot kissed her goodbye, like always, before leaving for work. “Mornin’.” Chelsea mumbled, stretching her arms out. Her bed hair was sticking up in all angles and he smoothed some of it down and out of her face. “Oh, I bet Isaac loved that.” She smiled, sleepy. Elliot kissed her temple and his lips lingered. Chelsea whinged and reached for his tie to pull him back into bed. He was running late. Right! He had court for his case today! “Okay, go, go! Good luck, honey. Not that you need it!” Tomorrow was the weekend—they could cuddle in bed as much as they wanted to then. She adjusted his tie with one eye open. “Okay, baby.” Every other Friday was always when custody week started with Jenny. Chelsea would just have to stack all the babies in the car and pick her up from school later on in the day. Elliot kissed her on the mouth this time. Chelsea sighed into it. “I love you, too! Bye, gorgeous!” She replied, calling out when the warmth of his body was gone and she could hear the bedroom door lightly close behind him.

12:59PM, FRIDAY. JANUARY 31ST, 2020.

The day was meant to be uneventful. She hadn’t been to the grocery store in awhile, because she absolutely refused to shove all three toddlers into a single shopping cart. A week without her Mom’s help at home and being in constant pain because of the baby was really starting to suck. Donna had been trying to catch up all week, so they could finally talk about the elephant in the room, but Chelsea always had an excuse. Today, she thought she might use it to her advantage. Get it over and done with and get something out of it. She called her phone early morning and Christian answered it. Chelsea tried not to give her emotions away, and politely asked if she could speak to her Mom. Didn’t trade any more niceties, didn’t do small talk. When her Mom got on the other end of the phone, Chelsea simply asked if she could look after the kids for an hour while she went food shopping, and suggested they finally sit down and talk when she got home. Her Mom was eager. Agreed, and didn’t mention the fact that Christian was there, at her house, answering her phone. Disgusting.

Chelsea shot Elliot through a message, knowing it’d probably take a while to get a response when he had court. She got a reply a little while later, but by that point her phone was in her back pocket, and she was stuck in the kitchen arguing with her Mom. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want him anywhere near me or my family! Period!” Chelsea spun around, dropping the dishes from lunch into the sink. “You know what, Mom? Do whatever the hell you want! You’ve obviously made up your mind if he’s sleeping over at your house.” Chelsea pulled a face, clearly repulsed.

“Watch how you talk to me, Chelsea.” Donna retorted, like she was still a little girl and not a full grown ass adult. Sure, maybe Chelsea was acting a little bit like a brat, or a child throwing a tantrum, but... this wasn’t okay! How was she meant to just sit still and take this? She refused to accept this. Nope. It wasn’t happening.

“What do you want me to say, Mom? Do you want me to just lie and say that I’m happy for you? Because I’m not! I’m not happy! I’m fucking furious!” Chelsea cussed. Ignored the literal swear jar, half-stuffed with dollar bills, only a small distance away from her on the kitchen counter. “And the fact that you can’t understand why makes it even worse!” Chelsea’s voice was going hoarse. “Put yourself in my shoes for... for just a second, okay? Your boyfriend assaulted me, he assaulted my husband—”

Donna cut her off. “I know that! I know! I’m not completely blinded by love that—”

“Love?” It knocked the wind out of her entire body. Chelsea squinted at her mother. “This has to be some sort of sick, twisted joke! How can you love him after what he did to me? I’m your child, for God’s sake!” The tears prickled her eyes.

Her mother took a step forward, almost pleading with her. Chelsea was grateful that they had the kitchen island keeping them apart. “People make mistakes, honey—”

“What, like Elliot?” Chelsea spat, recounting their argument last week. “You might be all about forgiveness, Mom, but trust me when I say that I will never forgive you for throwing that in my face.” She tried her best to keep her voice even and strong. Spoke with conviction.

“You never even let me finish what I was trying to say last week! Stop being so stubborn and listen to me! Please!”

“No, you listen! As long as you’re seeing Christian, I don’t wanna see you. You can come here, you can see the kids, because they love you and they miss you, but... but that’s it. I’ll be nice, I’ll be polite, but you and me? We don’t have a relationship anymore. I’m done!”

Donna started crying before Chelsea did. “Chels, please—”

“Whatever, I... I’m leaving. I’m going to the store. I can’t even look at you right now.” Chelsea grabbed a tea towel and wiped the soap off her hands. Dramatically threw it onto the counter and started off to leave the room.

“Don’t you dare walk out on me, Chelsea Grace!”

“Yeah? Watch me.” She called over her shoulder. Hastily grabbed her purse and keys from the table in the entryway and slammed the front door behind her. It was loud enough to possibly wake up one or all of the babies from their afternoon nap, but that was her Mom’s problem now. Chelsea waddled to her car, hands gripping her swollen stomach, and slammed that door open and closed, too. Turned the A/C on full blast, to give herself some air. Get her breathing back under control. She drove around the corner from the house to sit and park the car there. Just until she could calm down long enough to make the short drive to the grocery store.

After a few minutes of meditative breathing, and stroking her stomach, Chelsea’s phone buzzed with a message. She was surprised when MY BABY 💞 💖💕 flashed on the screen; fully expecting her mother to be bombarding her with notifications after their argument. Chelsea opened the text, quickly scanned over the message. She was too keyed up to reply. Locked her phone and dropped it into her cup holder, leaving Elliot unanswered. For now, at least. She shifted gears and started to drive. Blasted the radio, so she didn’t have to think. Repeated eggs, over and over under her breath, so she wouldn’t forget.

Grocery shopping was nice. Distracting. She got a couple cereal boxes of cinnamon toast crunch for Jenny. Filled a cart to the brim with food and fruit and diapers. Got supplies so she could make them enchiladas for dinner. Chelsea’s feet were sore and swollen. She’d only been walking around for half an hour, tops, and she was already exhausted. She arched her back and stretched, feeling achey all over. The baby was misbehaving. She was almost at the checkout with her shopping cart when she remembered eggs. Huffing, she rolled her cart down a couple more aisles until she found them. She reached up to grab a carton and toss it into her cart.

She felt the pressure build up in her abdomen. It built until she could feel it pop, and then release, and fluid started to trickle down between her thighs. “Shit!” Chelsea cursed. She fumbled and the carton of eggs splattered on the floor, all yolk and eggshells and amniotic fluid. She was wearing a dress, so the water dripped right down her legs and pooled at her feet. Soaked her sneakers. The fluid was blood-tinged, from what she could see past the cracked eggs. “Oh God, oh no.” She gripped the handlebars of the shopping cart, breath accelerating. It was gushing out of her, without any signs of stopping.

“Hey, are you alright?” One of the grocers approached, wearing a uniform and carrying a yellow caution cone, ready to clean up her mess.

Chelsea was hunched over, one hand white-knuckling the bars on the cart and the other cradling her stomach, as if she could hold herself together. As if she had the power to stop this from happening. “I think my—my water just broke, but I... I’m not ready. It’s too early.” Chelsea said, voice shrill, breath ragged.

The guy looked like he was barely out of high school. His face went a little pale. “I... I’ll...” He stammered. “I’ll call 911.” He pulled a cellphone out of his back pocket. Someone else walked over; another shopper, Chelsea assumed. An older woman. A stranger with kind eyes. She started rubbing her back for some comfort. “Is there anyone I can call for you, darling?” The nice lady asked, pressing circles into her skin.

“My husband. He’s in court right now, he’s—he’s a defense attorney, I—” Just to clarify, so the woman didn’t get the wrong idea. Chelsea sifted through her purse to retrieve her phone.

“An ambulance is on the way.” The kid said, still looking alarmed.

Elliot’s number was at the top of her favourites list. Next to her Mom, and Macy, and Caleb, and Amy, and Lola. Chelsea thumbed over his contact info to call him. It went straight to voicemail. “His phone must be off.” Chelsea cried, raking a hand through her hair. She tried again, for good measure. And again. And again. Nothing. “I’m only thirty-two weeks along, I can’t—I can’t be doing this.” The lady hushed her, told her to breathe, guided her through it. Chelsea was trying her hardest not to keep track of the amount of blood in the fluid on the floor. The grocer left and came back with another caution sign. People around them stared, looked concerned. Tears were streaming down her face, and fluid was still dripping down her legs. “Please, God.” Chelsea prayed through a sob.

Her first contraction came when the paramedics loaded her up into the back of the ambulance. She gritted her teeth and cried out in agony. Fisted the sheet on the gurney. “Is he gonna be okay? It’s too early. It’s too early!” Chelsea rushed through asking when the pain finally passed. One of the paramedics stayed in the back with her, hooking her up to machines and checking her vitals, while the other one drove. No sirens, Chelsea noticed. The paramedic reassured her. Asked her some questions: if this was her first pregnancy, if she’d ever had complications like this before. Asked about the gestational diabetes. Asked if they could call someone else for her, since Elliot still wasn’t answering his phone. The paramedic took hold of Chelsea’s phone and dialled through to her Mom.

The woman quickly explained the situation to Donna over the phone. Chelsea could hear Isaac crying in the background, even with the receiver covered. After a minute, the paramedic put the phone on loud speaker. “Chelsea, honey, are you okay? What can I do?”

“I need... I need you to get a hold of Elliot. Please. I don’t know how, I just...” Chelsea’s mouth was dry. “He’s in court, he’s with Macy. Call Amy, or something, I don’t know. Get word to him somehow, please. Please.” She was still panicked. “I can’t do this! Not now.” She cried some more. “Mom, I’m scared.”

“I know, honey. I know. It’s going to be okay. Let me go so I can get in touch with him, or someone at the courthouse. You and bub are gonna be fine, okay?” Chelsea nodded, even if her mother couldn’t see it. “I’ll see you soon, hon.” Donna hung up. Chelsea didn’t get a chance to say anything else. Not a goodbye, nothing. She shoved her phone back into her bag. Braced herself for her next contraction.

They stuck her into a birthing suite as soon as they arrived at the hospital. A nurse helped her out of her wet clothes and got her into a hospital gown. Slowly walked her over to the bed and got her to sit down, propped up by some pillows. Chelsea kept her phone close, squeezed inside her palm in case Elliot called. Or her Mom. The OB/GYN on call came in to examine her. Left Chelsea crying for a minute or two to discuss something with a nurse or a midwife or whoever holding a tablet in the corner of the room. “She was here, what? Christmas Eve? Who was on that night? They should’ve picked this up.” The doctor said, hushed and frustrated. “Oh, Johnson? Figures.” Chelsea pretended like she wasn’t listening in on their conversation, but a spike in her heart monitor gave her away. The doctor, Dr. Hernandez, typed some notes onto the tablet before coming back over to sit between Chelsea’s legs.

“So, Chelsea, you’ve got what’s called an incompetent cervix. Or cervical insufficiency—not that it sounds much better, as a term, but... what that means is that your cervix has already begun to shorten... dilate pre-term.” Dr. Hernandez said, sympathy showing on her face as she explained. Chelsea whimpered. Scrunched up her face, completely confused and trying to control her reactions to the pain she was feeling. “Basically your cervix isn’t strong enough to withstand the weight of the baby. Most likely brought on by the fact that your previous pregnancy was carrying twins.” She continued. “And even though you’re only thirty-two weeks along, he’s a big boy. Top percentile, I saw in your notes.” She smiled, as if this was meant to be comforting. “So it makes sense that this has happened. I’m sorry this wasn’t picked up on sooner. You’ve been regularly attending all of your appointments?”

Chelsea nodded around a sob. “Can you—can you fix it?” She pleaded.

“Normally, if detected early, yes. But with your membranes already having been ruptured—with your water already broken, it’s not safe. There’s risk of infection for you and the baby if we don’t get him out soon. And you’re already dilated a couple centimetres. So we’ll monitor you for the next couple of hours and see how things progress.”

Chelsea’s breathing was laboured. “No, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t have this baby now. I can’t.” She shook her head. “I can’t do this. I can’t—I need my husband. I can’t do this without him. I need him here.” She rambled through her tears, frantic. “I don’t wanna do this.” Like she had any other choice, at this point.

“You’re still a few hours off, in my opinion. He should get here before the baby comes.” The doctor reassured her. Lightly patted her forearm. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be here every step of the way.” Chelsea cried harder, because it wasn’t the same. Her Mom had been there for Jack. Her Mom and Elliot had been there for the twins. Now she was virtually alone. No family, no support. She’d practically disowned her mother a couple of hours ago, anyway! Chelsea was starting to hiccup, she was crying so heavily. “What’s your pain level at?” Dr. Hernandez asked. Chelsea simply shrugged, trying her best to calm herself down. “You’re highly distressed right now, Chelsea. I’m going to suggest that I give you a sedative, and something else to numb some of the labour pains. Is that okay?” Chelsea nodded, head dipped back into the pillows, eyes closed. Willing this not to happen, willing it all to be over.

Exhaustion set in. Everything felt fuzzy, because of the drugs. She kept her phone balanced on her chest, waiting for some sort of update from someone. Her Mom, or Elliot, or anybody. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been waiting. How many contractions she’d cried through, all on her own. She was all alone. Her head swimming, like she was drunk. She had to fight to keep her eyes open. The doctor hadn’t been back in awhile. Chelsea had to wonder if anybody, hospital staff or not, would come to check up on her. If anybody cared, at this point. She felt about ready to fade away.

One of the monitors started rapidly beeping. Chelsea struggled to lift her head off her pillow in time for one of the nurses to run in. “Code pink!” She shouted out into the hallway. Pushed a button on the wall, and the speakers overhead repeated her phrase: CODE PINK, BED 13. CODE PINK.

“What’s happening?” Chelsea mumbled. Tried to prop herself up on her elbows, but the nurse forced her back down. Adjusted the gurney so it was flat, so Chelsea was completely lying down. Pulled the railings up, ready for transport. A team of doctors rushed into the room. She hadn’t seen any of them before. They started wheeling her out of the birthing suite. Dr. Hernandez was suddenly there by Chelsea’s side, hands gripping around the bed railing to help push her to their next destination.

“Okay, Chelsea. The baby’s heart rate dropped dangerously low, so we’re taking you in for an emergency c-section now. We’re gonna get this little guy out, safe and happy. Okay? Do you understand?” She was too doped up on drugs to properly respond. Kind of nodded. Felt too numb and exhausted to fully understand the weight of what the doctor was saying. Dangerously low, thirty-two weeks along, emergency c-section. Safe and happy. The baby would be safe and happy. Everything would be okay. Okay. She understood. “We’re gonna put you under general anaesthesia. We need to hurry—to make sure the baby is doing okay.” The doctor continued to explain.

It happened pretty fast once they got inside the operating room. They transferred her from the bed onto the table. Roped her off from the chest down, so she couldn’t see anything. The anaesthesiologist got her mask ready, holding it by her face. Dr. Hernandez paid her a visit one final time. “You ready to meet your son?” She asked, hopeful and optimistic.

“His name is Luca.” Chelsea said, groggy. “Luca Elliot.”

They made her count. Count down to blacking out, with the mask finally covering her face. Chelsea didn’t want to count. For once, she didn’t. Her eyes fluttered shut, trying to fight it. Still trying to stop this from happening. Wanting it to be Elliot’s face hovering over her, not some nameless doctor. Not anybody else. No numbers, only Elliot. In her daze, she tried to picture him. The lines around his mouth and his eyes when he smiled. Only Elliot. Chelsea sucked in her last breath, until everything faded and disappeared around her. Until everything emptied out and there was nothing but darkness.

“Mr. Holt.” The doctor called out, grabbing Elliot’s attention. Still in her scrubs. Now that it was all over and done with, she could explain it to him properly. The man stood from his waiting room chair, expectant. Frantic.

“During the c-section, your wife’s bladder was lacerated—which isn’t something unheard of happening during these types of emergency abdominal procedures. She lost a lot of blood, so we had to keep her under anaesthesia and prolong surgery to make the appropriate repairs. Do a blood transfusion. Her bladder is fixed, but she’ll have to use a foley catheter for a few weeks. They’re wheeling her into recovery now. You should be able to see her in a little while.” Dr. Hernandez smiled, polite and professional.

Her gaze drifted to, who she assumed was, Chelsea’s mother. They had the same face. The woman was pushing a stroller back and forth in a steady rhythm with her foot. “There was, however, another complication during the reparative surgery. Cardiac issues run in the family?” She remembered what it said on the family medical history in Chelsea’s chart. “Midway through surgery, Chelsea's heart gave out. She flatlined. We lost her for a few moments, but managed to revive her. She’s stable now, thankfully, and we’ll be closely monitoring her and her heart over the coming days. Our best cardiologist is on it.” If that was any comfort. It couldn’t’ve been easy news to digest. It never was.

A nurse walked past and Dr. Hernandez stopped her in her tracks by catching her arm. “Hey, would you please show Mr. Holt here to the NICU?” She asked. Looked at Elliot. “You should be able to see your son, now.” Smiled, again. “I’ll have someone come get you when your wife is out of recovery and ready to have visitors.” The doctor squeezed his arm before turning to leave, ducking back into recovery to tend to his wife.

#elliot #elliot 23 #interaction

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spacehologramcollection · 5 years ago

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Request; The Kombat Krew and lazy, hazy mornings.

Pretty sure this was requested, trying to find the ask for it, but it’s a super cute ask and I live for some fluff. Just shitting you, it’s got some NSFW in it as well! Warnings; NSFW, 18+ under the cut. GIFS do not belong to me/ I did not make them.

Kabal;

· For a man who’s fast and speedy, he sure is lazy. Like waking him up is a near impossible task.

· He has seven alarms set, all of which are getting ignored. He hits snooze so many times it irritates you.

· You’ll always wake up with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. He loves to spoon.

· He’s hard to wake up, he can literally sleep through a hurricane.

· If he has somewhere to be, he’ll eventually drag his ass out of bed, reluctantly. Each movement he’ll look back at you, with a look of sadness and jealousy plastered on his face. How come you get to stay in bed!?

· If he doesn’t need to be anywhere, expect lots of attention, spooning, make out sessions with the potential to turn into something more intense.

· In a morning he likes to slow things down and take it slow. The bed is so warm and comfortable, and outside is cold and has Kano in it.

· Will often ring in sick to spend the day with you.

· He doesn’t want to get out of bed at all. Everything is so soft. It’s his own fault for making it so nice and relaxing.

· When you’re both awake, he’ll put Netflix on, let you rest your head on his chest and you’ll both cuddle and binge together.

· He is not a morning person be warned. He needs some coffee to function, or he’ll be a mindless tired zombie.

· He will bring you some morning coffee when he eventually gets up. He won’t get dressed to make it. The people in the apartment opposite can behold him in all his splendour.

· If he has to wake you up, prepare to be awoken to the sound of his amazing, terrible, music taste. The man cannot sing but he sure as hell fucking tries.

· “Why are we listening to Alanis Morrisette at 9 in the morning Kabal!?!”

· “The good lord does love a song that slaps Y/N. See, the neighbours love it, their banging the walls to the rhythm.”

· He’s such a little shit.

· Morning sex is always on the cards. Has literally rang in sick, because you’re practically pawing at his dick and begging. He cannot say no to his Princess/Prince. Not when their wearing his shirt so lovely.

· He’s loud in a morning. Your pour fucking neighbours. Between his noises, the song ‘Rather be’ by Clean Bandit and him banging around trying to get ready. It’s like living underneath a fucking stampede.

· He’s such a little shit. He has the ethic of ‘If I have to be up, so the fuck does everyone else! But not Y/N. They get to nap’

Sub Zero (Kuai Liang);

· Fucking hell. He is the definition of a morning person. He gets up before the crack of dawn. Even the fucking birds are like, go the fuck back to bed you mad bastard.

· He doesn’t wake you up though. Unless you want to be woke up. It’s up to you though. You aren’t the Grandmaster and don’t have the responsibilities that come with it.

· His body clock is always set to wake up an hour and a half before he’s meant to get out of bed. This gives him ample opportunity to admire you.

· He’ll brush the hair from your face and hold you tight. He ensures he doesn’t touch any exposed flesh, as he knows that will wake you up. His touch is freezing after all.

· He doesn’t want to leave you alone in bed, but he knows he has to. He has a clan to run after all.

· He’ll rise quickly and silently as possible. He’s organised, so everything is already laid out and ready for him. He would hate to wake you up this early.

· He has to do his early morning Meditation before leading the group one. So, he has to be on time. He cannot be seen being late, it sets a bad example.

· If you have to be somewhere, he’ll make sure your alarm is set. And if you don’t have to be anywhere, he’ll make sure your alarm isn’t set. He wants you to enjoy your lie in.

· He will fetch you a glass of water and put some fruit salad by your bed, ready for when you wake up. He’ll also leave a handwritten note.

· “Good Morning Snowflake. You looked so peaceful whilst asleep, it would have been a travesty to wake you up. I shall see you soon. Love from, K.L” He won’t use a pet name. He’s not your Winter-boo-bear, or anything like that.

· He doesn’t do lie-ins and the only time he ever sleeps in, is on the rare occasion he is sick or injured.

· On these rare occasions, he loves nothing more than to snuggle up with you. He’ll fall asleep on you, finger intertwined and him gently slumbering.

· He doesn’t do binge watching. Chase the fucking morning, live for this day and all the other pintrest slogans.

· If you do wake with him, he’ll secretly love it, it’s a chance for you both to spend quality time together. At least a few hours of meditating, walking or reading.

· Morning sex isn’t happening. He’s a busy man in the morning. He’s a little curious about it but not overly. He’ll make it up to you though!

Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi);

· Like Kuai he has to rise early. Except, he isn’t a fucking morning person at all. Nobody dares speak to him before he gets some tea and wakes fully up. He’s a moody bastard. He does not wish to be awake at this time. He wants to be in bed with you. But he will never say that to anyone but you. He’s got to be a tough and stoic master.

· He’ll wake before you, he doesn’t need an alarm, his body clock is set… much to his dismay. He wishes it would switch off for once. He isn’t lazy, he just loves the feel of your body against his.

· He is naturally warm, so he keeps you warm and your temperature cosy. And he knows, as soon as he stands to leave, the warmth will be taken with him.

· So, if its cold outside, he’ll always rise that little bit earlier, to go fetch you a hot water bottle to replace his warmth.

· He’ll give you a kiss on the back of your head, pull you in closer, and grab your hand. He loves to feel close to you. Even when you’re still asleep.

· He takes full advantage of the moment, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, there’s no fear or judgement. You’re asleep. You do hear them on occasion though.

· Before he goes, he’ll plant a kiss on your forehead, wrap the blanket around you and take one last look. Cementing and committing the image you slumbering so soundly in his head for a lifetime.

· When you eventually awake, he’ll be there, holding a cup of coffee/tea. All he’d want in return for this reviving elixir, is just one kiss. And he’s happy for the rest of the day.

· He doesn’t get to spend mornings in bed, he cannot be seen to be lazy, as it’s a sign of weakness.

· He wishes he could be though. He’d love to be holding you tightly in bed a bit longer. Waking up at a more civil hour. Just the two of you lounging around together, enjoying each other’s company.

· A man can dream.

· Morning sex is not off the cards for him. Unlike Kuai. He’s totally down for some romantic, spontaneous morning sex. What a great way to wake you both up, get the old heart racing and get his brain functioning!

· It’s fucking wild and like magic.

· Everyone knows when you’ve both engaged in the chopping of the morning wood; he’s less of a moody arse for the rest of the day. Will hum to himself, smile and let small mistakes fly. Nobody is going to be like “Did you guys bone?” because it will turn into a “BONE!?” situation from Brooklyn 99.

· “HOW DARE YOU TAKEDA TAKASHI I AM YOUR GRANDMASTER!?”

· Because that will put him in a bad mood.

Erron Black;

· The man can pick and choose when he wakes a lot of the time. Unless he’s in his Black Dragon days. Then he has to haul ass. Kano lied to him. He said he was a laidback boss, that was bullshit. Why else is he awake at 6 in the morning? Oh yeah, to go on a shit filled mission.

· He’ll be envious of you getting to sleep in. But he won’t wake you. His darlin’ needs their sleep. It wouldn’t be a nice thing to do either. So, he’ll leave you asleep. Not before he spoons you a bit more though.

· Kotal is a little more relaxed on certain days. Sunday. Sunday is the one-day Erron doesn’t have to do sweet fuck all. So, he lives for Sundays.

· He’ll love to just lay in bed, having you laid close to him. Either an arm lazily extended, holding you close. Or you on his chest, his hand playing with your stray hair idly. He never had this in the Black Dragon.

· Only time he had this was if someone covered his job, something he hated to do. Or if he called in sick. Something he also doesn’t like doing. But, Kano keeps the weekend for himself. Because you know, when you’ve got Erron and Kabal hauling ass, who needs to actually work?

· He does refuse jobs to spend time with you. He lives for mornings where you don’t have to wake up till the afternoon. Mornings where you don’t have to get out of bed, where you can just lay in bed, cuddling and caressing each other’s bodies.

· He loves mornings that turn into afternoons, which then turn into wild nights out, which replicate the lazy early mornings in turn the next day.

· Morning sex is a big ol HELL YES! From him. He loves it. Sloppy, slow, fast, paced, not paced. Doesn’t matter. If you’re down to fuck, he’s down to fuck with you.

· Nothing better than some morning sex to get the day started!

· Or morning sex to set the rest of the days pace, starting with you two staying in bed till you turn into puddles.

Raiden;

· When he wakes up its always before you. His body clock is set to a weird schedule. But he will always wake before you. He doesn’t need a lot of sleep either. So yeah, he’s awake before you.

· He kind of watches you sleep for a bit. Curious as to what you’re dreaming of. His dreams aren’t fun. There more premonitions, mixed in with red-herrings, filled with dread and impending doom. But its cool you get to dream of owning a penguin.

· He loves how peaceful you look, how you smile whilst you dream and how your eyes twitch and move as you slumber.

· When he has to drag himself out of bed, its not a hard task, he is an all-day person. He functions at his peak all day. He’s just ready to get going!

· At first, he’ll wake you up, so you can come and enjoy the day with him, but upon realising you don’t have the energy always. He leaves it up to you.

· If you want to get up and have an energised morning, then come along grab your shit and get ready to go!

· If you feel more tired and you crave more sleep, he’ll leave you to slumber away. Not before giving you a kiss before, stroking your forehead and promising to return quickly.

· As for a morning lay in… that’s a different kettle of fish.

· He must consult the elder gods before laying in. But on a serious note, he’d never had a lazy morning in bed till he met you.

· His life has always been about putting the safety of Earthrealm first. Self-care last.

· When you finally tempt him into a lazy morning, he’s very curious and slightly cautious. What if something bad happens to Earthrealm whilst he’s lounging about!? You have to reassure him that its well protected. With Sub, Scorpion and the Special Forces all on alert, you’re sure he can go one day without having to babysit an entire realm.

· Winning him over is hard however. But you eventually do it via the line of ‘Don’t you want to experience what its like to be a mortal?’ informing him most Mortals do sweet naff all on their days off.

· You have to teach him to embody the sloth. He is one of the bed, the bed is one with him.

· He doesn’t get the appeal of laying in bed whilst he’s wide awake. He’s ready to start the day the moment his eyes open.

· You’ll have to show him the upsides to it. Like, being able to cuddle, have a bit of a steamy make-out session. Potentially have some sweet morning sex.

· The possibilities are endless, and he is ready to do some exploring/ learning more about this strange custom.

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elisaphoenix13 · 5 years ago

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The Sorcerer's Cub (Ch.3)

When Stephen woke from their nap, he almost immediately jolted into a sitting position when he felt himself pressed up against Tony's side. That was usually normal and something he would enjoy for a few minutes, but he was very aware that he shouldn't be this close to Tony. There was a baby missing. A baby and his teddy bear, and it sent Stephen flying off the bed and startling Tony awake in the process. He looks around the room wildly as Tony blinks himself to further awareness and then stops when his husband reaches out and firmly grabs his wrist.

"Babe, what's going on?" Tony asks tiredly.

"Peter is missing. He wasn't on the bed when I woke up and I don't see him anywhere-"

Stephen covers his mouth with his free hand and Tony looks down at the bed where Peter had previously been. His head snaps back up to meets Stephen's worried gaze with his own and he drops the sorcerer's hand as he jumps off the bed himself and stumbles to the bedroom door. It was partway open which was a sign that Peter had left the room (and Stephen mentally kicked himself for not noticing sooner), and they pull it open all the way and lean over the railing to look down to the floor below. The sight that met them instantly had the air in their lungs coming out in a relieved woosh. Scott was dozing on the couch, but Steve was on another, drawing on a sketchpad and Bucky was on the floor with Peter. The winter soldier was laying on his side with his head propped on his flesh arm as he watched tv, and Peter sat in front of him with magnets laying around him on the floor as well as attached to Bucky's metal arm.

Tony rubs his eyes as he and Stephen descend the stairs to join them. "How long has he been down here?"

Steve looks up at him before motioning toward the dozing thief with his pencil. "About an hour. Scott was helping him down the stairs when we came up."

Peter looks up from Bucky's arm and smiles up at his parents. "Hi Daddy!"

It was such an innocent greeting, but it was so genuine that it had both Tony and Stephen melting. "Hi baby. Are you hungry?"

"No." Peter says as he looks back to the metal arm and Bucky looks up at them while the baby goes back to sticking magnets on them with giggles.

"I made him a snack when Steve and I came up." The former soldier informs them. "Crackers, a little bit of fruit...that kind of stuff."

Stephen and Tony nod and sit on the third couch to watch tv. The snack would only tide Peter over for a little while, but Bucky could be roped into making lunch for them when he got hungry again. Dinner, Stephen thinks to himself when he notices the time. He and Tony had taken a longer nap then they had planned. It wasn't like they really needed it either. So far Peter was being a wonderfully behaved baby (he knew a tantrum would happen in the future though), and he only woke up once during the night because of the nightmare. It must have been stress for Tony and residual magical exhaustion for Stephen.

When it got closer to dinner, the team came up to the penthouse one after the other and every single one of them stopped to stare at Peter. It was followed by a suspicious glance in Stephen's direction who had to repeat himself multiple times that 'No. I didn't do that. It was alien tech.' that it was starting to wear on him. Tony thought it was hilarious and told him that they weren't exactly wrong to suspect the sorcerer since he was obsessed with baby Peter. The baby that was currently being swaddled by Levi since Bucky had gotten up just a little bit ago to start dinner.

Peter was sucking his thumb and cuddling with his teddy bear while he watched tv, and periodically glanced into the kitchen when a certain noise caught his attention. Natasha had tried to pick up the baby but Levi wasn't having it. It smacked her away until she gave up and went to sit at the island counter to sample bits of dinner. Stephen turned to a book shortly after Bucky got up and Tony grabbed a tablet.

"Mama."

Peter looks at Stephen and holds his arms out, and the sorcerer gets up to retrieve the baby with a smile. As soon as Stephen takes Peter from the cloak, Levi unfurls itself to float next to its master and the doctor smacks it away when it raises an end to fuss at the baby.

"Stop that." Stephen scolds and Levi puffs up before returning to it's usual corner in the living room to sulk.

"Aww. Share the baby Mama Bear." Natasha says with a teasing coo.

Stephen looks at her pointedly when Peter wraps his arms around the sorcerer's neck tighter. "Even if I wanted to, I can't."

Sam raises an eyebrow from his seat at the table. "You just don't want to."

"No. I actually can't." To prove his point, he drops both arms from Peter to show how tightly the baby was gripping onto him.

Clint laughs. "Here I thought Tony was overexxagerating about needing to use a crowbar."

Tony snorts from the couch. "No. Not about that. Peter is a Mama's boy."

The elevator opens behind Stephen, and Quill enters with Cassie, Harley, and Diana. Sam grins when the adult walks over to the still dozing Scott and moves his legs long enough to sit on the couch. Scott grumbles in his sleep and rolls onto his side to face the couch and Quill pats his legs with a smirk as the kids approach Stephen to see what the sorcerer is holding. Harley bursts into laughter when he sees the baby, Cassie's eyes widen, and Diana giggles.

"When did this happen?!" Harley asks after he calms from his laughing.

"Last night." Stephen replies as Peter clings even closer to him. "You were at your friend's house and Diana stayed downstairs with Cassie."

"My boyfriend is a literal baby. I don't even want to call him my boyfriend right now because that sounds so weird." Cassie says with a wince. "How aware is he?"

"As far as we know, not at all. He's acting like a two year old." Stephen says as Sam gets up and approaches them.

"Hey kid." The man says to get the baby's attention and then points over at Quill. The space pirate was paying no attention to them, watching whatever happened to be on tv. "See that guy?"

"Uh huh." The baby confirms.

"He stole your name. His name is Peter too." Sam says with a grin.

Stephen smacks the back of his head (something Sam deemed totally worth it) when baby Peter glared as furiously as his little face could manage at Quill, and the outlaw looks up when he feels eyes on him. Sniggers echo throughout the floor at the look on Peter's face, and since Quill hadn't been paying attention, he had no idea what warranted the baby fury. He literally did nothing but sit with Scott.

"Why the hell is pipsqueak glaring at me?" The pirate asks, a little miffed.

Sam cackles. "You stole his name."

"I stole his name?! It was mine first!"

"Are you seriously arguing about a name?" Tony asks, looking up at Quill from his tablet.

"Bird-man started it--ow! Babe..." Quill grunts out when Scott opens an eye to kick his boyfriend in the gut.

"I'm trying to catch up on sleep. Quit arguing about a name." Scott closes his eye again.

"You might as well stay up," Wanda says and Scott sighs heavily. "Dinner is ready."

Everyone gathers in the kitchen for dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, most members at the table and everyone else either at the island counter or in the living room. Harley was too distracted watching Peter try to eat for a while, but that soon lost its appeal when Stephen helped the temporary baby. Cassie was pointedly ignoring Peter for her own sanity and helping Diana with her own food, and Scott had to prop his head on one of his hands to keep himself from falling asleep in his food. Conversations were random and happened between different people and it was all uneventful...until Peter threw a meatball at Quill's head.

For a two year old, he had quite the arm and hit the pirate's forehead right smack in the middle. Scott almost chokes on his mouthful of spaghetti at the development, but says nothing as he offers his boyfriend a napkin who takes it in silence to wipe the sauce of his face. Those at the table and that had seen the meatball fiasco, bursts into hysterics, and Stephen had to stop Peter from throwing a second one.

"No. We don't throw food." The sorcerer reprimands and the baby pouts. "Now apologize to Quill. He didn't deserve that."

"No." Peter grumps and drops the meatball before taking his arm out of Stephen's grasp so he can fold his arms.

"Peter." Stephen scolds and the boy only slouches into his seat.

Quill clears his throat and puts the napkin down after getting an okay from Scott. "I guess he doesn't want to see some new magic." Peter perks up a bit and the outlaw smirks. "I mean...he's seen Mom's magic but mine? Totally different."

Stephen watches as Peter has a mental war with himself, and the curious toddler immediately wins when Quill moves to stand. Peter reaches out with sauce covered hands in an attempt to stop the bigger man from leaving and Stephen takes the opportunity to grab the filthy hands and clean them off. The baby shouts out an apology, and Quill raises an eyebrow before sitting back down and holding out one of his hands. White light swirls above his palm and big brown eyes widen as it slowly shapes into a small sphere. The pirate closes his hand around it and gives it to the baby until Tony and Stephen stop him.

"It's fine! It won't hurt him unless I want it to." Quill assures them and rolls his eyes when the couple looks at him skeptically. "I'm not that mean! I did like the kid before he was miniaturized."

Tony and Stephen return to their dinner as Quill sets the small sphere of light into the toddler's hands, unaware of the fond way that Scott was watching him.

"Why don't you keep that? As long as I'm alive or as long as you want it, it will never go out."

"Hey Porcupine?" Quill looks over at Tony when the baby thanks the Celestial, and the engineer points at the ball with his fork. "That's not going to cause any damage or hurt anyone else if he decides to throw a tantrum is it?"

"Nope. It's just holdable light for him."

"Bummer. I was thinking about taking him to one of my meetings-" Tony starts.

"Tony, stop trying to weaponize our temporarily toddler son." Stephen interrupts. "That's something Harley would do.

Said teen looks up from his dinner with an indignant look. "Hey!"

Cassie snorts. "Don't deny it."

"Yeah...okay." Harley relents.

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ohcndrea · 5 years ago

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ANDREA PEARSON ( ALISHA BOE ) is a 17 year old JUNIOR student at Broadripple Academy. SHE is originally from MILFORD, CT but moved to Broadripple 3 YEARS ago. SHE is CREATIVE and QUICK WITTED but can also be SHORT TEMPERED and JUDGEMENTAL.

task 1 under the cut – stats page here – wanted connections page right here

1. Full Name?

Andrea Mona Pearson

2. Preferred Names or Nicknames?

Andrea, Drea, or D

3. What does their name mean? Does it have any significance in their family? Do they like their name?

Andrea means Brave and Mona means Noble Good. The name Andrea came up after her brother was named Zachary, A to Z. The Mona Lisa is a gorgeous, famous piece of art of a mystery woman. While the name was originally just meant to be an homage, Drea rather likes the idea of being a mystery woman, whatever that might mean. She loves her name, she thinks it’s original and surprisingly artistic considering her parents. The only thing she doesn’t like about it is the nickname Andy.

4. Age and Date of Birth?

17, 30th of January ( making her an Aquarius zodiac )

5. Gender and Pronouns?

Cis Woman – She/her

6. Hometown?

Milford, Conneticuit

7. Does your character fit into any well known archetypes or tropes?

Literally every Aquarius trope known to man (elusive, creative, spontaneous, inconsistent, and stubborn). Equally distant and overbearing parents. The wanderer: never settling, always feeling as though there’s something more. Attention and approval seeking teenager, constantly needing to be validated. Cool Girl Complex, moulding herself to be what she thinks everyone wants, feeling as though she’s not being genuine because of that. Seemingly effortless, appears to not have to put much work into her grades, looks, or anything but it’s not quite the case.

8. How long have they been at Broadripple?

Since freshman year so three years.

9. What led them to apply to Broadripple? Was it a decision made by them or by their parents/guardians or somewhere in between?

Her brother attended an all boys private boarding school when he had been going through high school so it had already been decided Drea would be going to a private boarding school it was just a matter of which one. Drea chose Broadripple out of series of options provided to her by her parents. It was close enough to Milford that she could go home if she really wanted to, but far enough away that her parents probably wouldn’t come visit regularly. She could be free from her parents watchful, judgemental gaze, but not completely detached.

10. Whether they’ve been at Broadripple four days or four years, do they enjoy it? Do they like Broadripple?

In some ways she loves it, in others she hates it. Mostly she likes it. The pros outweigh the cons and the cons were always going to appear at any boarding school she attended. All her friends are there and she adores her friends. She dreads going back to Milford for summer, winter, and especially Thanksgiving break. She hates that her school shirts are itchy that her ass doesn’t look as good in the school skirt as it does in tight jeans. She hates the way teachers catch her when she tries to get away with breaking the rules, but she loves the adrenaline when she does get away with it.

11. What house are they in? Do they care very much about their house?

She’s in Melleray and she could not care less about her house. She uses house events as an opportunity to either lay in the sun or to try napping with her eyes open.

12. Who do they share a dorm with, or are they on their own for the moment? What are they like to live with? Are they clean or messy? Early risers or night owls?

She shares a dorm with Kat Bishop, her best friend and soul sister. Which is tragic for everyone around them. She’s somewhere between clean and messy. Things have a place but it just doesn’t look very neat. She also likes trying on five different outfits and hates putting clothes away so the end of her bed is usually covered in clothes until she gets annoyed at the weight on top of the duvet when she sleeps. Drea’s sleep schedule is a mystery to everyone. Some nights she’ll be awake until four am listening to old One Direction songs for no good reason at all and other nights she’ll fall asleep watching a movie at 7:30. But she’s certainly not a morning person. She will cradle a coffee and a bleary eyed look until second period at least.

13. How is your character’s dorm decorated? Is it bare or bursting at the seems with personality? Any particular sentimental items from home?

Having been at Broadripple for three years Drea has collected some real junk in her dorm. She still has books from freshman year pushed to the back of her desk even though she should really just give them to the library. She has a lot of art supplies, multiple notebooks, loads of pens and pencils (shoved haphazardly in a small pot she got from urban outfitters one time that lives on her desk). Her wall is decorated in a small collection of postcards and photos. The postcards are generally museum postcards, copies of artworks she likes, but there are a few depicting the beaches of Spain and Portugal, the Eiffel Tower, the Sculpture of David, and Roman Ruins at sunset. Photos on the wall include some with her friends, some with her family. There’s also a couple of drawings scattered in amongst the rest of the images. Mostly by her, at least one by Jay. She has a peach crocheted blanket from home and an old Yale sweatshirt that she stole from her dad’s closet. They don’t stand out among the rest of her belongings and she doesn’t treat them any different but she would be very upset if she lost them.

14. What is their favourite subject at school? Do they even have a favourite? Why?

Probably programming though she wouldn’t admit it. She likes the creative side of code, trying to make things work and look nice and flow. Second to that would be Chemistry, she rather likes science. It something that makes sense to her quite easily and it’s the more interesting of the “traditional” classes that she takes. Third, ASL. But again, she would never admit any of that because school is for nerds.

15. Are they involved in any clubs? Which ones?

She’s in the Women of Broadripple Club and just like, really shouldn’t be. Her mom signed her up when dropped her off at Broadripple in her first year despite not contributing to the group at all she’s never been bothered to leave the group. She usually shows up to meetings hungover and has a little nap up the back.

16. How does your character feel about Broadripple’s Unofficial Clubs? Do they know about them? Are they a part of any of them?

She definitely knows about the Broadripple Boys Club and the Unauthorised Chastity Club but probably doesn’t think Broadripple Unsolved is real. BAU is just a bunch of nerds hanging out and thinking about jerking off aliens and calling it a club as far as she’s concerned. Feels kind of similar about the Chastity club but instead of jerking off aliens its jerking off God. She avoids the Chastity club at all costs, she really does not like dealing with them and would rather make fun of them from a distance. Now the BBC, she really thinks she should be one of them, she really does. But seeing as they don’t take female members, she’ll settle for trying to impress them, flirting with them, and stealing booze at their parties ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

17. Does your character participate in any sports? If so, what made them join the team?

She’s on the Cross Country team, in her freshman year she was also on the Track team but she decided in sophomore year that she’d rather just do cross country. She prefers it, track is such a competition to be the best and be the fastest, and she’s just not an especially competitive person. But she likes running, it really clears her mind so she kept up cross country.

18. What afternoon activities does your character do? Do they just do the one mandatory one or are they involved in multiple? Why?

She used to just do the one, just painting (because she’s an artistic ass bitch and it was her one school appointed time to be creative) but since having an argument with her parents over the summer she has since started tutoring. While she’s quite smart and gets good grades, she’s a horrendous tutor. She tends to get things in class very easily so explaining them to people who don’t understand them first go is very hard for her. She gets frustrated and probably ends up doing a lot of their work for them.

19. Do they miss their home when they’re at Broadripple? Do they often go home for the weekends or do they only go home during holiday breaks?

Not especially. She goes through phases where she might feel homesick, if she’s not talking to her friends for whatever reason and feeling rather lonely. But for the most part she likes the distance. In the three years she’s been at Broadripple she’s probably only gone home on the weekends two or three times.

20. Did your character know Izzy De Santis or Maggie Monroe?

She knew them both though neither well. She had written them off mostly as religious freaks that she didn’t want to associate with. Freaky minions of God that would tell her she was going to hell if she didn’t repent for the amount of booty pics she sent.

21. Has your character heard of Edith Lynch? Do they know the story?

She’s heard of her and she knows the story. During probably her first week of Broadripple the girls got together and told the spooky story and that’s what Drea thinks it is: a story. She knows Edith was real but she thinks the story she heard has probably been blown way out of proportion and she’s never looked into it so she has no idea if that’s true or not.

22. How does your character feel about Nighmore? Have they noticed the recently closed shops yet?

She thinks Nighmore is super weird. She gets a really weird vibe from the people and would rather go anywhere else but it’s just so conveniently close, especially since she doesn’t have a car. She has noticed the closed shops because Kat got hysterical about not being able to buy potatoes.

23. Have you made any aesthetic Pinterest boards/WeHeartIt collections for this character? Or playlists? Anything you would like to share!

She has a pinterest board and a weheartit collection lmao, also has a playlist but i’ll probably do a seperate post for that eventually

#i am v v v excited but v v v sad that i now i have to leave for work : (#i'll be on mobile and on the discord once that's live so hit me tf up and lets get some shit goin my guy #also conny's will posted soon i just legit feel like im spamming everyone lmao sry #bahq:task1 #bahq:intro

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