#and it’s been six years and i’m so scared i’m forgetting her

[drusic]

october is here and i am not ready lmfao

[impracticalcrybaby]

Drunken Mistake

Ellie Williams X Fem!Reader

Summary: Ellie confronts you about what you guys did last night after the party.

Contains: 18+ content fingering r!receiving, strap use r!receiving, slight hair pulling, mention of alcohol

"C'mon wake up."

I groan. I hated waking up. I shove my face into the pillow. "Five more minutes." I mumble. I wanted to finish my dream of riding my horse into an open field and there was a little house that my parents were watching me from the porch. That was all ruined when I feel my body being flipped over.

I open my eyes slightly seeing Ellie holding onto my hip with a stern expression on her face. "Wake up." She insisted. I start to close my eyes again. "Y/nnnnnn" Her voice cooed softly. With my eyes still closed, I groan shifting my body to sit up. I hear her shuffle on the ground and then come back. "Arms up." I lift my arms up and feel a shirt being put over my head.

I finally open my eyes to see Ellie adjusting the shirt to fit my body. That's when it hits me. Last night we went to a party and I drank a lot. And when I say a lot I mean...A LOT. Ellie must have taken me home. I suddenly feel embarrassed. "Ellie I got it." I mumble and shoo her hands away to fix the shirt myself.

Ellie furrows her eyebrows but listens and stands back with her hands in the air. She watches from afar and I can feel her eyes on me. "Can you turn around?" I say with a bit of embarrassment. She turns around with a sigh. I stand up from the bed with a groan, finding my shorts on the floor I swiftly put them on. “Jesus why’d you let me drink so much?” I walk past Ellie holding on to my head in pain.

She follows me out of the bedroom door with a nervous chuckle. “Listen honey, I tried.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You are one stubborn girl.” I looked at her and rolled my eyes. As I’m chasing ibuprofen down with a swig of water, I hear Ellie let out a sigh. I look at her with tight eyebrows. “Can we please talk about last night?”

My stomach has sunk to the floor. I almost choke on my water as I’m remembered of the scene of what went down. “Ellie.” I warn. “No. We need to talk about it.” She begs me and holds on to my arm. I look between her eyes as I try to form words. “It was a mistake?” My breath got caught in my throat and the words croaked out of my mouth.

The look of hurt washed over Ellie’s face. “A mistake?” Her eyes wonder my face as if she’s trying to find a sliver of comfort. I rest my shoulder with a sigh. “Ellie…We were drunk…” She lets go of my arm and shakes her head in disbelief. “No drunk person fucks their roommate, tells them they’ve been dreaming of this moment, and then admits they are in love with them.”

I stand there in shock. My eyes wide and my jaw clenched. I wanted to forget that. The slip of words that oozed out when I wasn’t in control of them. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Ellie asks in a whisper. Her eyes haven’t left my face and they have pierced themselves right through me. I am at loss of words. The courage I had to say what I did last night has disappeared. Ellie raises an eyebrow as she waits for me to answer.

“I-I…I was scared.” I admit. My cheeks a shade of crimson. Ellie finally removes her eyes from my face, looking down at the floor. Her face in a scrunched expression. I stand in front of her like a deer in headlights. With her face still to the floor her voice creeps out “So…You meant it?” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, throwing my head back. “Yes Ellie, three whole years I have loved you. Three years I held in these feelings.”

Ellie looks back up at me, her expression hard to read. We make eye contact in silence. A tense silence. Ellie let out a small smirk, sending a confused expression to my face. “Three years is nothing compared to my six years.” She admits and in a quick motion she grabs my face in her hands, hungrily smashing her lips on to mine. The shock ran through my blood but simmered down melting into the kiss.

I copied her hunger. She pulled my body closer to hers. Feeling her heat made me go even more crazy. Her tongue didn’t wait for permission and entered my mouth sloppily. I move my hands into her hair slightly tugging at her auburn locks. Her hands found their way down to my waist, moving up and down my abdomen. Our mouths are moving in sync with a few pathetic noises escaping.

We pull away for a second out of breath. Ellie’s hands make their way down just below my ass. “Can we finish what we started last night?” She asks with a sly smirk. I roll my eyes with a smile, “Shut up and kiss me.” Without hesitation Ellie connects our lips in another hungry kiss. She gently picks me up off the ground letting out a small gasp from me. My legs wrapped around her hips as we continue to deepen the kiss.

With me still wrapped around Ellie, she walks over to the kitchen counter placing me on top of the cold marble. Ellie’s lips leave my lips down to my neck. Sucking and biting at the skin, she leaves a few marks. “Oh fuck~” I throw my head back onto the cabinet. Ellie makes her way down from my neck down to my chest. She kissed over my clothed breast. “Take this off.” She demanded. The tone her voice sent shivers down my spine.

I took too long for her because she ripped it off my body in second. With my bare skin in the open she immediately attached her lips back on to my chest. Sucking at every inch of skin. Leaving marks here and there. My soft whines and moans were the only thing you could hear in our apartment. Her hand made its way up to my left breast. Kneading at the fat and her thumb rubbing circles on my nipple.

I tug at her hair harder, making Ellie moan. She moves lower down to my stomach and then down to my thighs. She was practically on her knees at this point. I look down at her with my mouth agape. She looked at me with puppy eyes. My eyebrows tighten and a whine escapes my mouth seeing Ellie like this. Her fingers snake down my abdomen down to the waistband of my shorts. She tugs at it for approval.

I give her an eager nod allowing her to pull them down. As quick as she could she stood up and pulled my shorts down with my help sitting on the counter. She takes in what she sees in front of her. I become a little nervous being so exposed in front of Ellie while sober. “Oh baby, don’t get all nervous on me now.” Ellie chuckles kissing down my body back to where she was before.

She looks back up at me with those puppy eyes. Begging for me. Her hands hold on to my thighs massaging them to keep me stimulated. I bite my lip looking down at her from this angle. Her fingers begin to creep their way to my inner thigh. They move higher up and just slightly graze right where I need Ellie. A small high pitched whine leaves my mouth.

Ellie liked the reaction I had and did it again to tease me. She had a taunting grin on her face. My legs began to squirm under her. Ellie hummed, “Poor girl…so needy.” She pressed her fingers down on my clothed cunt sending a loud scream like moan from me. She continued to press down getting slightly deeper and kissed my knees.

“Fuck Ellie…I need more.” I whined out. My eyes begging for her more. She gave me a sly smile before hooking her fingers in the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down. I was fully exposed displayed right in front of her. “Fuck.” She said under her breath before licking a stripe up my cunt. “Mmphm~” I bit my bottom lip, throwing my head back.

Ellie didn’t hesitate to up her pace. Finding my clit and making circles with her tongue around it. Licking up every inch of surface. “Ah fuck Ellie!” My hands pull at her hair as my thighs squeeze around her head. Her hand then pull my thighs down, pinning them to the counter as she continue to suck and lick against me.

My heavy breathing and moaning echoed in the kitchen. Ellie continued to lick up every drop of me as my hips began to buck against her face. “I-I’m gonna c-cum.” I rode out my high onto Ellie’s tongue. “C’mon baby.” Ellie hummed against my clit, vibrating it and making me come undone on her face. A loud moan echos our kitchen as I have reached my high and finished. Ellie continued to lick up any remaining drop of me. “Good girl.” She smiled as she slowly stood up from the ground and kissed my cheek.

She pulled away from my face to look at me. I was breathing heavy while staring deep into her eyes. My mouth slacked open and my legs still spread. I looked like a fucked out slut. She had a teasing grin on her face, “I’m not finished just yet.” I felt a wince leap from my throat. I didn’t know if i should be excited or scared. But I was both.

Ellie softly grabbed my hand and helped me off the counter. I stumbled as my feet hit the floor. She ate me out that good damn. As she lead us to her bedroom I followed behind like a lost puppy. Holding her hand and staring so lovingly at the back of her head. Once we made it to her room she let go of my hand, “You get on the bed and I’ll be right there princess.” She kissed my forehead and without any questions I did as she said. I walked over to her bed and sat down comfortably.

She left the room and shortly came back. But this time she had something on. A strap on. I felt my stomach tighten as I stared at it. Ellie chuckles, “Didn’t think I would come back with this?” I gulp and look back up at Ellie, “N-no…I just didn’t think it’d be this…” I look down at it. Her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek with furrowed eyebrows. “Big?” She says. I laugh nodding and covering my face with my hands. I hear her shuffle over the to bed, “Oh shut up.” She chuckles and removes my hands from my face.

My face red I look at her and she’s smiling. A sweet smile that I fell for years ago. I admired her freckled face. The curve of her nose and the way her eyes were shaped. I was in love with her. “I love you.” I whispered, my eyes filled with love. She looks at me with the same look. Her eyes filled with love she whispers back, “I love you more.” She kisses me gently at first. Then the kiss deepens. She gets on top of the bed and hovers over me. As I hungrily kiss her she shifts us into a position. My legs open around her thighs and her strap perfectly lined up with me.

We pull away out of breath, “Are you ready?” She asks with a nervous crack of a voice. “Y-Yes.” I look down at the strap as it slowly enters me. A exasperated sigh leaves my mouth as Ellie fills me all the way. She makes small and slow thrusts, kissing my shoulders. My mouth falls open and breathy moans escapes. Ellie slowly picks up her pace, leaving me to moan louder. My nails dig into her back for support. I can hear a moan from her when she begins to go faster.

The sound of skin slapping together and our moans combined are filling the room. “Mmm fuckk~” I can’t even feel the shape of her cock because of how fast she’s going now. “Fuckfuckfuck.” I feel myself reach my edge. Ellie continues to thrust in and out of me faster and faster. Her hands are roughly holding onto my hips. They will be bruised later from how hard she had a grip on them. A groan leaves Ellie’s lips. “C’mon princess. Be a good girl for me and cum.” Her voice was deep and breathy.

“I’m gonna cum!” I yelp. Ellie thrusted deeper, reaching right on a sweet spot. That sent a scream come out of my mouth. With my eyes tightly shut, I let out a last moan. “Oh fuck~ Good girl.” Ellie growled. She slowed her thrusts and they became sloppy. Ellie then pulled out with a wince coming from me. She plopped herself right next to me. Both of us out of breath and sweaty.

She puts her arm above my head and starts playing with my hair. I look over at her with a smile. She smiles sweetly back. “Was that okay?” She whispers and takes her other hand to my cheek. I blush under her touch, “Of course it was.” My smile grows as big as it gets. Ellie blushes and pulls me closer to her. With our close proximity her scent becomes more prominent. I take a deep breath of it and close my eyes. My body being in her arms and her chin resting on top of my head, we doze off.

a/n: i’m sorry if it’s rushed or if the ending isn’t as good as you wanted it to be. this is my first time writing a one shot so please be considerate!! HOPED YOU LIKED IT!!! 🧡🧡

[theabigailthorn]

Hey I’ve been a fan for a little while now, and I just wanted to say that you’ve been an inspiration for me, a younger transfemme. But I do wanna also ask: what’s it like being a trans woman with her life together? I’m 19 (as of sending), been on hrt for almost 5 months, and have been trans for a year and change. But I’m scared. So, I guess, I wanted to ask: does being trans ever become the norm, my baseline? What’s it like after 2-3 years? And does it get any less confusing or scary?

I think there are a few things going on here.

I don't have my life together as much as it might seem; I just don't show you all the ways it's not. I don't talk publicly about the auditions I don't get, or the things I try and fail at, or the insecurities in my own head that hold me back sometimes, or the handful of decisions I've made that were bad calls and which still keep me up occasionally. I've talked about trauma and mental illness in the past, but I only ever discuss stuff I'm comfortably over - when I'm overwhelmed or in the middle of a crisis I don't post about it. I don't set out to deceive you by presenting myself that way, I just keep my most private stuff private. Everybody has failures and regrets and insecurities: "it's a sign of having lived," as my friend Phoebe told me today. But you see a curated version of me that appears not only more together than the real person, but more together than any real person.

Also, if you're 19 a lot of your life hasn't been in your control until pretty recently and a lot of it still might not be. I'd say it's okay to not feel like you have it all together. You just transitioned, which I think is one of the hardest things a human being can do: you can give yourself credit for that even if you feel like you're not settled into it yet. Congratulations!

As for it becoming the baseline, I mean yeah? Kinda? At least for me. Sometimes I forget. I had a moment today in the gym where I saw a man and I was like "Oh yeah, I used to be one of them, sortof? Weird!" The first year is the hardest, or so they say. I wouldn't say I get less confused or scared now, just scared and confused in different ways. I worry less about getting attacked in the street than I did in my first year, for example. (I'm lucky and privileged in that regard.) But I worry a lot more about other people. I struggle a lot with survivor's guilt, which is something only people who survive get! Anyone who's had a drink with me in the last six months has heard me beat myself up because the night of The Prince premiere in New York was the night of Brianna Taylor's vigil in the UK. That wasn't a deliberate decision - the premiere was booked and paid for months before she was even killed - but I've become a lot more sensitive to those sorts of feelings precisely because I spend less time worrying about myself. I'm more aware now of what my transness means for other people. Like, I made an ironic joke when I came out that I'd become The Transgender Princess of TERF Island, and it's kindof haunted me since - I didn't set out to become "a famous trans person" but it's happened a little bit and it's going to happen a lot more next year. That comes with serious responsibilities and a few mild drawbacks, as well as perks, obviously. So I guess that's a longwinded way of saying I might be a weird person to ask this question because, at least for right now, my transness, my whole self, doesn't just belong to me.

Oh also, some great advice I got from my friends: Paris: "Only change the things that bother you on your good days," and Mattie: "Don't believe anything you think about your life after 9pm."

[imtryingbuck]

Timeless Love part two

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/n’s life after he finds her in the base.

Word count: 2,037

Warnings: angst (nightmares). fluff. medical inaccuracy (probably, most definitely). pregnancy.

Part 1

Masterlist

“I made a promise didn’t I?”

~~~

True to his word - nearly eighty years later - Bucky got down on one knee by the lake near the tower and asked her to marry him and of course she said yes.

Six months after he proposed, a year after she woke up, Tony had the large room that was normally used for his luxurious parties transformed into a magical, picture perfect wedding venue.

Bucky’s eyes welled up with tears as he watched the love of his long life walk down the aisle towards him, Steve and Sam stood next to him with soft smiles on their lips, Nat and Wanda standing on opposite sides of them with the same expression on their faces, Tony’s arm was wrapped around hers as they walked closer to her happiness.

Their hearts beating as one once they were announced as man and wife, both had tears running down their faces as they shared a passionate kiss.

In the year they’ve been married everything was perfect by day, full of laughter, happiness and love but by night as the compound grows completely silent Bucky would flinch as her cries would wake him up, he knew better than to touch her when she’s having a nightmare since the first time - and only time - he did, she had him pinned faced down on his stomach and his right arm put behind him painfully, his heart had pounded violently against his chest not because he was scared of her but for her, his calming soft voice finally managed to wake her up; for the rest of the night she clung on to him as her tears wet his naked chest.

That night was no different.

He watched in agony as she tossed and turned from her side of the bed, her eyes moving frantically behind her closed eyelids, mumbling quietly but what he could pick up was ‘no’, ‘I’ve been good’, ‘please stop’.

“Doll, sweetheart. Doll come back to me, you’re safe I promise.” He said softly. “Come on my love, wake up.” After over five minutes of him trying to coax her back awake it worked.

“B-Bucky?”

“I’m here darling, you’re okay I promise.” He sat there watching as she came to her senses, hearing her heart beat settle he knew she realised where she was and that she was safe. “C-Can I hold you?”

She doesn’t answer verbally, instead she crawls over towards him and climbs on to his lap and into his welcoming embrace. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry doll?”

“I… I woke you up didn’t I?”

“It’s okay.” Running his fingers up and down her naked back feeling the scars as he does, Bucky places kisses to her forehead and hairline. “Do you want to try and get some more sleep?”

“Can I stay here?”

“Of course my love.” He shifts them both whilst he pulled up the pillows to be behind his back, then grabbing the covers and pulling it over her. “Goodnight doll, I love you.”

“I love you too Buck, please don’t forget that.”

Having a medical degree really came in handy when someone was injured on a mission. Sam had just been shot down out of the sky landing hard on the ground, as Nat and Steve covered Y/n she cut Sam’s suit to get to his side where she made a hole to drain the blood that was filling his lungs. “Steve we need to get him back to the tower and quickly.”

“Let’s move him.”

“Y/n… are-are you carrying me?” Sam’s voice stuttered with a slur.

“I am.”

“I’m never going to live this down.” Nat couldn’t help but laugh and nod in agreement. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” She replied as she laid him gently on the table in the jet.

“P-please don’t let me die.”

“You’re not going anywhere, I promise.”

Y/n let Steve carry Sam out once they landed back at home just so no one teased him about being carried by a woman who was smaller than him. But it was too late Tony and Bucky teased him the second they were allowed to see him.

“If Y/n didn’t do what she did Sam wouldn’t be here right now.” Helen Cho stated once she had finished giving the team an update on Sam’s condition. “Y/n can I speak to you privately?”

Once they were in an empty room, Y/n grew anxious thinking she did something wrong and that Helen was going to tell Fury which meant Fury would kick her off the team and she would be send to the Raft and she would never see Bucky again and he would move on and forget all about her and she would be alone an-and-

“Y/n breath! Deep breath in, slowly exhale.”

“I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to hurt him-“

“You saved his life. You did an amazing job and that’s what I want to talk to you about.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I want to offer you a job in the medical bay.”

“Bu-but will Fury allow that?”

“I don’t see what the problem will be, I’ll speak with him but whatever he says just know the offer is still there.”

“I’ll do it, unless he says no.”

When she told Bucky that she was potentially going to be a nurse again he beamed with pride, picking her up and spinning them around, telling her how proud he was of her. Two days later Fury called her into the office he had at the tower to discuss how she would split her time between missions and working in medical bay. Bucky didn’t think it was fair that she would still have to go on missions but she didn’t care, she was just happy she could be a nurse again and help people.

For six months she had been separating her time between missions and working in the medical bay Bucky had to admit that he was missing his wife and he understood that she was busy, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss her nonetheless.

He had gone down to the med bay to see if he could grab lunch with her, Helen shook her head at him and told him that Y/n had gone up to their apartment, the place he was now standing outside of. Slowly opening the door - just as he and the team did in order not to scare her and send her into a panic attack - he stood leaning against the doorframe and it felt like he had been transported back in time at seeing her sitting at her small desk hunched over it with paperwork in front of her, he couldn’t help but smile.

“I can feel your eyes on me” her whispered voice snapped him out of his memory.

“Are you alright doll?”

“I’m okay just tired, how are- what’s wrong?”

“Stand up.”

“What?” Crossing over to where she was sat he took her hands in his and helped her stand, his eyes squinting as he looked her up and down. “Buck? What… are you doing?”

He gets down on his knees and presses his ear against her stomach, a soft gasp falling from his lips, one hand on her waist the other holding the back of her thigh. A chuckle falls from his lips as he pushes his ear further into her stomach.

“Buck?”

“Doll” he looks up at her with tears glistening his eyes making the blue even brighter. “Baby you’re pregnant.”

“What? I-I can’t- are you sure?”

“There’s a heartbeat! I can hear it! Strong, a very strong heartbeat, doll.”

“We’re… are we having a baby?” Bucky looked up seeing tears fall from her eyes, he nodded with a huge smile on his lips before he goes back to listening to the heartbeat of their unborn baby.

When Helen confirmed that there was indeed a baby in Y/n’s stomach Bucky wrapped his arms around the love of his life and all but took the air out of her lungs by kissing her and telling her how much he loves her.

“I have some more news for you.” Helen’s voice made them pull apart.

“What? Is it okay? Is something wrong?” The panic in Bucky’s voice was clear as his eyes bounced from Y/n’s stomach to Helen.

“Everything is fine, they are both healthy.” She smiles.

“B-Both? As in-“

“Twins?”

“Congratulations James and Y/n, you’re having twins.”

Bucky passed out.

As the months passed by the bigger Y/n’s stomach grew, at seven months pregnant she looked like she was carrying five babies - as she put it. Bucky loved it though. Watching as her belly swelled with not one but two of his babies did something to him, he was already protective of her as it was but now it increased a thousand times over. And now he never let her do anything for herself, if she needed food? He got it, needed a drink? He got it, hell even if she needed to go to the bathroom? He took her.

And when Bucky wasn’t there and on a mission he had someone else running around for her.

“Hey doll, I’m just finishing off my run and I’ll be right home. How are you?“ He panted lightly down the phone, rolling his eyes at Sam as he runs around him in circles.

“I’m okay, my waters broke, how are you?”

“I’m good- wait, what did you just say?” Bucky’s eyes widen hearing her words.

“I’m o-“

“No not that bit, doll did you just say your waters broke?”

“Oh yeah, I’m on my way to Helen now.”

Bucky ran as fast as his legs would carry him back to the compound with Steve and Sam right behind him. His heart was pounding in his chest the closer he got to his world.

“I’m here! They aren’t here yet are they?” He panted as he got around the corner.

“No Buck, not yet.” Sighing a breath of relief that he hadn’t missed the birth of his children, he leaned his head against her shoulder.

Seven hours after her waters broke she was gripping onto Bucky’s and Steve’s - they had asked him to be there after they announced to the team that she was pregnant, Steve cried whilst saying ‘yes’ - hands for dear life as she pushed the first baby out, followed a few minutes by the second baby.

“Boys. Two healthy boys.” Helen beamed as she handed the crying babies to their momma.

*four years later*

Tony had surprised the married couple with giving them their own floor in the tower, it was quickly transformed into a perfect family home for the four of them. Bucky was currently walking through the door that led him to his family, a smile instantly lighting up his face as he heard the excited squeals coming from the twins, no doubt causing chaos.

“Dada!”

“Hey little man.” Picking up his son, placing a kiss on his forehead. “Been good for momma?”

“Yes!” Liar he thought to himself.

“Buck?”

“I’m here doll.” He smiled at hearing his other trouble maker come running towards him.

With his two sons in each arm he walked towards the kitchen where his better half was cooking dinner, his eyes never leaving her form even when the twins wiggled to get out of his arms.

“I can feel your eyes on me.”

“I’m just admiring my view.” Wrapping his arms around her, his hands going straight to her deflated bump - which he missed so much - he places a kiss to her neck. “Where’s my little princess?”

“She’s asleep, but she needs to wake up now so she can sleep through the night.”

“I’ll go and wake up our little grumpy pants.”

As he walks out of the bedroom, he stands in the doorway watching as Y/n gets the boys into their chairs, both of their attention focused on the food in front of them, he smiles softly. His family was completed by the newest addition which he currently had in his arms, their three month old baby girl.

He made a promise so many years ago, a promise he made sure he kept to.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[callsignseagull]

all you had to do was stay ✪ part 1

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Summary: Six years ago Jake hit your life like a hurricane. In and out in a matter of weeks. You thought after you get over the disappointment of him leaving without saying a word you’d never think of him again. But then two pink lines change your life forever. Now he’s back and still has no idea that the little girl by your side is his daughter. 

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Not much, honestly. maybe just a little angsty 

A/N: Here’s part one!! I hope you like it! It's a little on the short side but hopefully there'll be more soon :))

feedback is always appreciated :)

series masterlist

You’re sitting at the dining table, scrolling through your emails with one hand while holding your toast in the other. You’ve become a pro at multitasking.

“Mommy? Do you think they have churros at that market Penny is taking me?” Your daughter is munching on a toast of her own, crumbs sticking to her cheeks. 

“I’m sure.” You smile. “And I’m sure if you ask nicely, Penny will get some for you.” 

She grins before taking another bite of her toast and you can’t help but reach over and give her a kiss. You can’t believe how fast she’s growing up. At now five years old, Josie is your entire world. As shocked and scared as you were when you found out about her, she’s the best thing that ever happened to you.   

Turning back to your laptop, you flag the most important mails so you don’t forget to follow up on them later. The time before one of your books releases is always the most stressful, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. You got so lucky. 

You wrote and illustrated your first children’s book while being pregnant with Josie, it gave you something to distract yourself from all the changes you were going through. And then you posted about it online, it went sort of viral and then a publisher reached out to you. The book was an immediate success. It’s been translated in several different languages and they even make stuffed toys and board games based on your characters now.

And now you’re about to release the fifth book in the series. It’s hard to churn one out every year, but you’re scared that if you drop the ball, all you’ve worked for will be ripped from you. You want to give Josie the best life possible, so you work your ass off. 

When both of you are finished with breakfast, you clean up the table and tell Josie to put her shoes on. As you slip into your own shoes, you whistle for Muffin, the four year old poodle mix you adopted from a rescue last year, and he comes trotting around the corner moments later. 

After checking you’ve got everything you lock the front for behind you, hold your free hand out for Josie to take, the other holding Muffin’s leash. Then, the three of you take on the short walk towards the Hard Deck. 

Penny Benjamin has been a life saver these last few years, throughout your pregnancy and beyond. She’s been there for you whenever you needed her, day or night. You don’t know what you would’ve done without her. And now she’s somewhat of a grandma figure for Josie, and she’s probably the hottest grandma ever. Her and Amelia are the closest thing you and Josie have to a family, besides each other.

Today, Penny is taking Josie to a Food Market while you look after the bar for a couple hours. It’s still early and not many people will be there, but you’re glad you can help Penny out while still getting some work done for yourself.

“There’s my favourite little family!” Penny greets, as you enter the Hard Deck, her arms wide and Josie immediately runs towards her and into her arms. 

“Hi Penny! I’m so excited! Are you excited? Do you think they’ll have churros?” Josie rambles with glistening eyes, her dimples on show and for a moment you’re reminded of how much she looks like her father. You manage to push thoughts of him to the back of your mind most days but sometimes you just look at her and all you can see is him. 

You haven’t tried reaching out to him again. You know you should’ve. But it felt wrong sending him a text telling him he’ll be a father. And you doubted that he even wanted to be a father. So you decided you’d spare yourself, and your daughter, the heartache. Josie hasn’t asked about her father much, but when she did you told her that he’s a pilot in the Navy and that he loves her. You never want her to feel like she’s not wanted.  

✩̿✪̿✩̿

Jake knew he’d come back eventually. He just didn’t know it would take him so long. But if he was being honest with himself he knew that if it wasn’t for him being called back to Top Gun for some top secret mission he still wouldn’t have had the guts to come back here. Hell, he’s been living only a few hours north from here for the past couple of years. He easily could’ve made the drive down. But he’d always been good at coming up with excuses. But now he couldn’t. Not when he’s in the same city for the next few months. He’d constantly be looking for you. Seeing you in every face that just slightly resembled yours. He didn’t even know if you still lived in San Diego, though. But going to the Hard Deck seemed like the logical thing to do. Even if you weren’t working there anymore, Penny Benjamin might know where to find you.

As soon as he enters the bar he’s hit with nostalgia. Nothing has changed. He takes a look around and pretends he’s the six years younger version of himself, still naive enough to think that nothing will ever rattle him.

Since it’s still the early afternoon it’s not busy and there seems to be no one behind the bar right now. With a deep sigh he sits down in one of the barstools, then notices someone crouched down behind the bar, looking for something in a cabinet. 

His breath catches in his throat. It can’t be.

He hasn’t seen you in six years, and even though he can’t see your face right now, he knows it’s you. He can feel it. 

Now he really feels like he’s been transported back six years in time. You haven’t noticed him yet and he can’t hold back the words that are going through his head.

“Can you pinch me? Because I can’t believe you’re real. I thought I was dreaming.” He knows it’s a bit of a dick move, throwing his first thing he ever said to you at you now. But maybe you’re not as mad at him as he thinks? What if you don’t even remember him? He hadn’t thought about that. Fuck. 

✩̿✪̿✩̿

You almost hit your head when you spin around towards him.  This can’t be real.

“What are you doing here?” You must look like you’ve seen a ghost, but it honestly feels like that. He looks the same but he doesn’t. He’s filled out more, even though you never thought it possible. And he just looks overall more mature. It suits him. 

“What am I doing here in San Diego or what am I doing here at the Hard Deck?” He tilts his head, a small smile on his face. You don’t grace that with an answer, he knows what you mean. The smile slowly drops from his face, and there’s a seriousness in his eyes that makes it impossible for you to look away. “I was hoping to find you here.”

“Why?”

“I want to apologise.” 

That makes you straighten up. Apologise? After six years? 

“I was an absolute asshole to you and you didn’t deserve that. I was going through a rough time and I took all that out on you. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I just left without saying goodbye. I got called on a mission right after graduation and when I got back I figured you didn’t wanna talk to me ever again.”

His words take your breath away for a moment. Never in a million years did you think you’d get an apology from Jake. 

“I-,” you stop, wringing your hands together. At a loss for words.

“You don’t have to say anything.” He smiles softly. “I’m in town for a while. Maybe we could … I don’t know … hang out sometime? Catch up?”

As much as you want to protect your heart and tell him no, you know you have to catch him up on what happened after he left. It’s not right to keep him in the dark now that he’s here. You know that.

“You don’t have to answer me now. Take some time to think about it. I’m sure you’re busy, with your books being such a success. And you’re still working at the bar?” He looks curious and you’re a little shocked.

“I’m just helping Penny out for a couple hours. You know about my books?”

“My nieces love them.” He grins. “I have to read them to them before bed every time I’ve got time to visit them down in Texas.”

“You’ve got nieces?” 

“Yeah, they’re two and four. Love them to death. My Mom’s been begging for grandkids for years and she’s so happy to dote on them every chance she gets.”

Your heart constricts. Two and four. They’re younger than Josie. Not only does she have cousins somewhere in Texas, she’s also the first grandchild to a woman who’s never met her. Who doesn’t even know about her. But you don’t know much about Jake’s parents. Maybe she wouldn’t be the biggest fan of a child out of wedlock. 

You glance at Jakes hand. No ring. 

You muster up the courage to your next question. You know the answer might hurt, but you have to ask him.

“Any kids of your own?” 

Jake shakes his head with a laugh, “No, not that I know of.” 

It’s just a joke but you feel like it makes your heart stop before it starts beating rapidly in your chest. This is it. There’s no better moment than now. Just get it over with.

“Jake, I-“ 

“Mommy!” Josie comes barreling through the door, Penny a few steps behind her. “Penny let me have Churros and they were delicious!” She wraps her arms around you and looks up at you with her sparkling green eyes.

Maybe you don’t even have to tell him. You glance at Jake and he looks a bit taken aback.

“Yeah, honey? Did you have fun?”

“So much fun!” She grins, showing off her deep dimples, and you run a hand over her head before giving her a kiss. You manage to look at Penny, who’s glaring at Jake. It takes all your courage to look at him. He doesn’t even seem to notice Penny, his eyes focused on the girl in your arms. You can’t read the expression on his face, has he already realised how much she looks like him? 

“Well, I guess I don’t have to ask you if you have any.” He smiles, his lips tight, then looks at your daughter and his smile turns more genuine. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Hearing the term of endearment again makes goosebumps raise on your skin. 

“Josie.” She’s not a shy kid, so you’re not surprised when she looks at him curiously and asks, “Who are you?” 

Your grip tightens around her but before you can say anything he replies, “I’m an old friend of your Mom.” 

You shoot him a really? look but he just shrugs his shoulders. Well, you guess it is inappropriate to tell your five-year-old daughter that he used to fuck your brains out. 

“Thanks for helping out.” Penny says, “Both of you.” She winks at Josie. 

Muffin comes trotting around the corner and Josie let’s go of you to throw her arms around the poodle mix. “I missed you!” While Muffin covers your daughter’s face in slobber, Jake huffs out a laugh. 

“A dog, too, huh?” 

You shrug your shoulders, not sure what to say to that. 

“Does the house have a picket fence?” It’s a bit of a loaded question, you think, but you don’t read too much into it and reply truthfully, thinking about the little house you put a down payment on a couple years ago. 

“It does.” 

Jake rubs his chest and gives you that tight lipped smile again. “I’m happy for you.” 

He means it, you can tell. “Thanks, Jake.”

He gets up from his seat at the bar, knocks on the wood a couple times then says. “Your husband is one lucky guy.” Another tight lipped smile.

“My wha-?” 

“I’ll see you around.” He nods then turns on his heel and before you can comprehend what just happened he’s gone.

“Mommy, why did he say your husband? You don’t have one of those.” 

“I don’t know, honey.” 

You watch him cross the parking lot to his car and it dawns on you that he thinks that all your dreams came true:  become a full time illustrator, fall in love, get married, adopt a dog, buy a little house, have kids.

Little does he know that you fell in love with him, had his kid, and did all of the rest on your own. 

taglist: @annathesillyfriend ✪ @lovebittenbyevans ✪ @heyhihellowhatsup0 ✪ @one-sweet-gubler ✪ @emorychase ✪ @wooya1224 ✪ @novagreen04 ✪ @iammirrorball ✪ @lolcaca ✪ @caitsymichelle13 ✪ @soulmates8 ✪ @soleilgrec ✪ @lilylilyyyyyy ✪ @winters-queen ✪ @i0veless ✪ @the-romanian-is-bae ✪ @mandyppp ✪ @dempy ✪ @mizuki80 ✪ @lumpypoll ✪ @averyhotchner ✪ @babyice1274 ✪ @captain-fandomwriter58 ✪ @hangmanscoming ✪ @caidi-paris ✪ @linkpk88 ✪ @djs8891 ✪ @xomrsalliej4787xo ✪ @lnmp89 ✪ @startrekfangirl2233 ✪ @gigisimsonmars ✪ @merishfit ✪ @clancycucumber230 ✪ @sky0401 ✪ @emilyoflanternhill ✪ @roostersforevergirl ✪ @celestialeviereads ✪ @blackwidownat2814 ✪ @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak ✪ @grxcisxhy-wp ✪ @atarmychick007 ✪ @dakotakazansky ✪ @fulla02 ✪ @alana4610 ✪ @callsignwidow ✪ @memoriesat30 ✪ @ebonyhogan24

[its-time-to-write]

Could you write a fic with a writer who’s just found out that the guy she’s seeing really isn’t what she thought he was and she’s feeling really down about it/him and Jamie comforts her?

hope this is what you were looking for😊 thanks for the ask!!

we could be so good

It’s a sad drive from the restaurant to Jamie’s house. You walk straight in and crash on the couch. 

“That bad, huh?” Jamie says. 

You nod. “We’ve been going out for over a month, and it’s like a switch flipped. He’s a complete prick.”

Jamie awkwardly pats your head. “I’m sorry love.”

“How could I be so- so- blind?” you continue. “I should’ve known he was too good to be true. I fucking hate dating and I never want to fucking do it again.”

“You’ve been with a lot of shit blokes,” Jamie muses. You’re both silent, thinking back on all the guys you’ve dated over the past eight years. 

He snaps his fingers. “Ronald Spencer.”

You sigh. “Ah yes. Ronald Spencer. The absolute love of my life. Fuckin’ shame we met so early in life.”

Jamie shrugs. “You were pretty mature for a pair of five year olds. ‘Course, I’d already had two girlfriends at that point, so I was way ahead of you.”

You wrinkle your forehead. “Okay, you were eight. You had three years on us and he broke up with me because you scared him away.”

“It’s my job to take care of you, and I think you could’ve done better. Speaking of-” Jamie gets up off the couch. “You want a snack?”

“Ooh, yes please.” You follow Jamie to the kitchen and hop up on the counter. He rummages through his cupboard and pulls out two bags of crisps and a chocolate bar. 

“Told Roy these were for you so he wouldn’t throw them away,” he tells you. “Fucking mental, that one. Went through me whole house and got rid of so much shit.”

Jamie hands you the prawn cocktail chips, keeping cheddar for himself. “Don’t tell Coach.”

You zip your lips as he sits on the counter next to you. 

“Oi.” He knocks his shoulder against yours. “Forget about that fucking nutter, yeah? You can do better.”

You shrug and say, “Don’t really think so at this point. Maybe I’ll just move back to Manchester.”

Jamie whips his head around to look at you. “Fuck. No. This house is too fucking big and too fucking quiet. Plus, I save so much money on house sitters.”

“Like you need to save money,” you snort. 

“I’m serious,” Jamie insists. “The fuck would I do all alone here?”

You give him a strange look. “Um, I don’t know, bring a girl ‘round? Go out at night instead of watching telly with me? Not listen to me complain about shit dates?”

“Or,” he suggests, “I could not do any of that and we could go on un-shit dates together.”

You laugh. “Un-shit? That’s the best you could come up with? Wait- what?”

Jamie’s words finally register. 

It’s silent except for the crinkle of the chocolate wrapper. Jamie hands you half and you snap it into smaller pieces. 

“Yeah, I mean, might as well shoot my shot now, right? Not to be fucking weird, but I’ve had a crush on you for ages. Since we were kids. Like I said, didn’t want to make it weird ‘cause, like, we live together. Didn’t want things to be awkward. Or for you to fucking move back home. I mean c’mon love, with your mum? Wouldn’t do that to you.”

You smile. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jamie parrots. 

“Yeah, okay. I guess- I think I always figured we’d end up here. I liked you since I was six and you kicked a football through the window, then picked all those flowers to apologize. I kept every article that was ever written about you. I dunno, I thought either we’d figure it out in our thirties or maybe just be weirdly platonic for the rest of our lives.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s weirdly specific.”

You shrug. “Am I wrong?”

You’re not. 

Jamie says, “So…” as he swings his legs. 

You turn to look at him. “Yes?”

“Can we like, kiss? Because I’ve been thinking about it for fucking years.”

“My breath smells like crisps,” you warn. 

“Don’t care,” Jamie replies as he hops down from the counter. He pulls your legs to hook around his waist as he tilts your chin downward. 

“Is it too early to say I love you?” he murmurs. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and smile. “I think it’s the perfect time.”

[2nd2ndalto]

I have a headcanon that all the demigod kids routinely end up in each others beds/cabins at night, because nightmares and trauma and whatnot. So I wrote this smol fic.

~~~~~

There Is Rest and There's You

The first time Nico sees Annabeth leaving the Poseidon cabin at an ungodly early hour (having been dragged from his warm bed by Leo and Jason for an ungodly early errand), he flushes, quickly looking away. Because it's obvious, even to him, that she’d spent the night. But Annabeth merely sleepily raises a hand in greeting and continues on her way back to her own cabin.

Jason, maybe noticing Nico’s discomfort, simply shrugs. “Musical cabins,” he explains. “Happens a lot.”

Leo nods in agreement. “Yep. I had some really wicked nightmares last week, three nights running. I ended up on Jason’s floor. Would have been in the bed, but Piper got there first,” he adds, disgruntled.

Huh, Nico thinks. Musical cabins. That's a little weird.

After that, he pays more attention. It’s not unusual, as it turns out, to find the Apollo cabin overstuffed with various campers early in the morning, rivalling even the occupancy of the Hermes cabin. Sometimes it’s couples tucked in together, but more often it’s friends, siblings. Seeking comfort, and sleep.

It's six months into Nico's stay at Camp when he begins forgetting to lock the door to Cabin Thirteen. He nearly runs Harley through with his sword the first night he finds the younger boy fast asleep in his cabin. But after that, it quickly becomes routine to wake to the quiet comfort of someone else’s soft snoring across the darkened room. Most often it's Will, brushing a warm hand over Nico's forehead before settling into the other bed, but sometimes it's Harley, and several times Leo, complaining that Jason’s bed was already full.

It’s a little weird, but surprisingly nice. Nico begins leaving his door unlocked most of the time.

On a night late in February, the nightmares are worse than usual. Nico wakes in a cold sweat, heart pounding, tears welling behind his eyelids. He does what he usually does - dresses quickly, and walks. There’s something meditative about the rhythm of his boots on the ground and the sharp, cold air on his skin that usually settles him.

But the thing is, it’s really cold. And after only about half an hour he finds himself standing in the central green, torn. He can't feel his toes, but he can’t quite stomach the thought of returning to his own empty cabin, either.

His frozen feet lead him up the stairs to Cabin Seven. And gods, it’s warm inside.

There’s a soft rustle of blankets from Will’s bunk.

“Nico?” Will’s voice is soft and scratchy. “What’s wrong?”

The taller boy is out of bed and across the cabin in a heartbeat, reaching for Nico’s hand. Scanning him, Nico knows, blue eyes wide with worry.

Nico shakes his head. “I’m fine. Just - couldn’t sleep,” he murmurs, and the concern on Will’s face fades to sympathy.

“The bunk above mine is empty,” he says simply.

And that’s that. Nico climbs up, snuggles in. Will’s messy blond bedhead pops over the edge of the bunk, his smile fond. He squeezes Nico’s arm. “Sleep tight.” And then he disappears.

Nico worries it might be awkward, in the daylight. It’s anything but. The Apollo cabin is a riot of sound and motion in the morning. Austin flings a stuffed turtle at Nico's head. Nico's foot is hanging off the edge of the bunk, and Kayla tickles it, cackling when he squeaks.

“Breakfast time, sleepyhead,” she chirps.

“Sleep well?” Will asks as Nico climbs back down.

And the thing is, he really did.

Time passes. The nightmares wax and wane, but they get easier, mostly.

Until one night in July. It’s almost a year to the day since he came to stay at Camp - Nico thinks, later, maybe that’s why the nightmares hit particularly hard. He wakes shaking, gasping for air, convinced he’s fading again, permanently this time. It scares him so much more than it did when it was actually happening. He shoves his hands against the wood of his headboard, hard, positive they’re going to slip right through. They don’t, but he can't shake the panic.

Nico’s up and out the door in the space of a breath, no hesitation as he makes a beeline, barefoot, for Cabin Seven. The air is cool for July, the full moon shining bright above.

He can feel his panic ease the second he closes the door behind him, soothed by a quiet symphony of soft breathing.

But the bunk above Will’s is occupied tonight, and as Nico's eyes adjust, he realizes all the others are, too.

“Nico?” Will’s voice is a whisper. “Nightmare?” He sits up, silhouetted in moonlight.

“Yeah.” Nico steps closer. “Looks like you’re all full in here, though. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turns to leave, but Will grabs his arm. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. You go back to sleep.”

Will gazes at him in the dark, fingers still wrapped around Nico’s wrist. “Or you could stay. Here.”

“There’s no room, though.”

“I have room,” Will whispers.

Nico blinks at Will’s bunk, then back at Will, his stomach attempting to leap into his throat. Will’s eyes are wide, nervous.

“I... um -” Nico begins. He can feel his face heating at the thought of it.

“Gods, di Angelo, just stop talking and get into his bed. Literally no one cares,” Kayla grumbles from the next bunk over. There appears to be at least one Demeter kid in her bed. Maybe two.

Will’s fighting a grin now and he shrugs. Nico shrugs back, then… climbs into the bed. Will scoots over to make room, pulling the blankets over them both. And gods it’s warm, and it smells like Will, and when nothing else calms him, that always does.

Nico lets his eyes close. Then -

“Do - do I feel like I’m fading?” he asks in a whisper, echoes of the nightmare flashing behind his closed eyelids.

Will gazes at him. Then he reaches for Nico’s hand.

“No,” Will whispers. Someone clears their throat nearby and Will grimaces, yanking the blankets over their heads.

“Did something happen?” he asks, his breath brushing Nico’s face.

“No, just - nightmare."

Will nods in understanding. “No. You’re good,” he smiles. He goes to pull the blankets back down, then seems to reconsider.

“That’s um… that’s usually why I end up in your cabin. At night.” he admits, quiet. “Sometimes... I just need to make sure that you’re still solid.”

Nico stomach flip-flops. "Oh."

Will shrugs, sheepish. He pulls the blankets back down, settling on his side. "Here," he says, reaching for Nico's hand again. "Then neither of us has to worry." He tangles their fingers together, reaching out to lay his other hand on Nico's arm, tethering him.

Will's soft smile in the dark is dazzling, and his hands are warm, and Nico worries his own answering smile might just light up the entire cabin.

When he wakes hours later to the familiar sounds of chaos, his head tucked against Will's shoulder, Will's face buried in his hair, well. He thinks maybe this musical cabins thing isn't so bad after all.

Notes

This is a short one! I tried to challenge myself to write something coherent in 1000 words or less. I almost managed it.

It is also my personal headcanon that Harley kind of attaches himself to Nico & sees him as a big brother. This comes up in something else I'm working on as well.

I would love to hear your related headcanons! Snuggly demigods! Sleeping in heaps like puppies!

Jason may not come up much in my fics but please rest assured he is Always Alive.

[helpimstuckposting]

Okay this ones a bit sillier, I'm just a hostage writing their banter into existence. There is no stranger things without silly banter, and I am just a mere mortal passing the message, bound by the laws of this world. Still sad tho, can't forget that.

I’m a ghost and you are a shadow

Part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven

—

From his huddle on the floor, Steve felt more hands on his shoulders and his back, felt more arms wrap so tightly around him and he’d never felt more secure in his life. His cheeks hurt and the muscles in his neck pulled uncomfortably around the lump in his throat, his clothes were days old and covered in dirt from the woods outside, and he had no idea what was going on but his arms were full of Robin and he could feel Dustin clinging to his side, and Nancy carding her fingers through his hair. El and Max were crying, everyone was crying, but Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy.

He was so scared, so scared, that when he let go it would all be gone. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it, this time.

He felt Nancy step back, the warmth from just above his shoulder gone and he panicked, tearing his damp eyes away from the crook of Robin’s neck to look up. She was still there, smiling with tears in her eyes and she looked so young all of a sudden, Steve could imagine her face aglow with the rainbow lights of the Upside Down Lite Brite, excitement in her eyes like a child waking up on Christmas to find everything she ever hoped for under the tree.

“I’m gonna get the first aid kit,” she whispered, shuffling into the hallway. Always the responsible one.

Robin and the kids finally pulled away, helping him to his feet, and they hadn’t disappeared. A weight in his chest lifted slightly, the unsurety of it all still pressing down but one piece had been relieved. They weren’t going to disappear on him.

They made their way from the kitchen into the livingroom, sitting Steve down on the once pristine white couch. It was now a dull eggshell, years of wear sinking the cushions in and making it more comfortable than he ever remembered. His parents would flip if they saw it. Not that he ever wanted them to come back.

Nancy entered the room with a small white tackle box, sitting down opposite Steve and Robin on the coffee table in front of them. He glanced to his side and noticed a smudge of blood on Robin’s cheek, the one she’d had pressed into his neck. She didn’t have a cut on her face and for a brief moment he wondered where the blood came from until Nancy pressed a wet cotton ball into Steve’s neck. He remembered the knife Eddie had held to his throat, the sharp movement he made when the party burst through the door earlier. The blade must have sliced him and he hadn’t even noticed.

The party was quiet as Nancy patched him up. For some reason, Eddie was nowhere to be seen. He seemed like the most suspicious out of everyone and Steve couldn’t figure out why, but right now there were clearly more pressing matters at hand.

Steve looked around the room at the faces he never thought he’d see again, in the house that was definitely different than his own in the slightest of ways, but more lived in, more comfortable. Full of pictures he’d never taken, but he was clearly present for somehow.

“What…,” he started to ask, throat scratchy, not really sure how to begin. Nancy put away the gauze and tape, closing the tackle box with a quiet click. Everything from the morning flicked through Steves mind and though most of it was hazy, he tried his best to piece it all together. This clearly wasn’t a dream, and it didn’t seem anything like Max had described Vecna’s mind powers to be.

“What’s the date?” He finally asked.

Dustin squinted at him. Okay, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only suspicious one. “It’s May 8th, 1990,” he replied, “It’s been six months since you died.”

Died. There it was again. But the date was correct, Steve remembered that much.

“Listen. I know this sounds… crazy, but-,”

“Crazier than a girl with superpowers and a hell dimension?” Dustin cut in. Steve blinked up at him. He hated when he was at a lower eye level than the kid, made him feel smaller like somehow Dustin was the adult in the situation. The tone didn’t help either. Steve missed it so much.

“Okay, fair.” He started again, trying to gain his bearings and make sense of the situation, put it into words that they’d understand. “You keep saying I died, but for me… I remember you guys dying.” He glanced at them all again. They were watching him with varying levels of confusion, Nancy’s lips were pursed and Max’s were, too, in a similar way.

“The last time we fought Vecna, a few of us barely made it out alive. It’s been… it’s been years since I last saw you guys.”

They were quiet. He watched as they flicked their eyes back and forth between each other. He felt like an outsider once more, like they were speaking a language he didn’t quite know yet, like he was back in the Byer’s living room while Jonathan and Nancy tried to get him to leave. Before everything fell apart.

“All of us?” Max finally spoke, asking the question they were clearly communicating between all of them.

“Not… not all of you. But, Will and El… Dustin, Max… Robbie,” he looked at all of them as he said their names. “The rest of the kids moved away with their families, Eddie left when Wayne died. I’ve been..,” he paused for a breath. They were all still so quiet, letting him finish, though he took a bit to stumble through the words, “I’ve been alone for years. The Hawkins I know is a ghost town and I have no idea how I got here.”

No one really spoke, they just kept looking at each other. Steve glanced back between each of them, feeling like he was failing some sort of test he never studied for. He always hated silence, lived with it so long it became loud and overbearing. He didn’t want it to be so quiet when he was surrounded by people.

“I don’t think I’m your Steve,” he finished, just for one more thing to say, one more break in the quiet.

“Parallel universes,” Dustin muttered to himself. He seemed almost… excited? Like there was a new code he cracked or a gadget he could take apart.

Nancy and Max just squinted at him, the former glancing back to Steve out of the corner of her eye, assessing. She always stayed quiet until she’d figured out the next move, calculated all the variables in her head before saying them out loud. Dustin seemed impatient, rolling his eyes to the heavens and back down again.

“Like The Dark Tower?” he tried, groaning when met with more silence. “Stephen King?” Steve briefly wondered if Dustin ever got tired of acting like he knew more than everyone in the room. The kid needed a reality check in Steve’s opinion, but unfortunately for him, Dustin usually did know more than Steve.

“You know how The Upside Down is like a copy of Hawkins?” Dustin tried again, and the crew nodded back. “Well that’s like our world folded over on itself, it’s an extension and not a separate entity.” He held his hands like two Cs, miming a piece of paper being folded in on itself. “But a parallel universe is like a completely separate world.”

Dustin suddenly clapped his hands together. Steve flinched at the sharp noise, but Dustin didn't seem to notice, separating his hands by just a centimeter and keeping them held out in front of him. “It’s an alternate dimension that runs parallel to ours, with just slight differences leading to separate outcomes.”

“Like Narnia?” Steve asked. Robin let out a soft ‘ohhhh’ and pointed at him. Dustin groaned and his whole body seemed to sag in a parental-like disappointment.

“No, Steve, not like Narnia!”

“I don’t know, it sounds kind of like Narnia,” Robin said.

“Yeah, Narnia was a separate world,” Steve nodded at her.

“Enough about Narnia! It’s not like Narnia!”

“Seems like Narnia,” Robin muttered, but Dustin ignored her and powered through, though El was giggling to herself and that seemed like a win in Steve's book.

“Narnia is an alternate universe that’s completely different than ours. I’m talking about the same world with the same people, but certain decisions cause a split that leaves the world slightly different than the next one. We’re all fundamentally the same, but some of our experiences might be different! For instance, our fights with Vecna turned out different results. Okay? Do you get it now?”

Max rolled her eyes “Don’t have a conniption, you’re not the only person in the room with brain cells, you know.”

"Okay, let's just..," Nancy began, holding her hands up placatingly, "Let's take a breath and pretend Dustin is right, that this is some kind of parallel universe."

"I am right," Dustin muttered to himself, though no one paid him any attention, all eyes focused now on Nancy.

“If Steve is from a parallel universe, then… how did he get here?” she asked. Eyes turned from Nancy to Steve again, and Steve did his best not to cower under the microscope. Carol had taught him to hide his emotions, keep calm and collected, ‘people will respect you more, Steve, just look like you don’t care’. He stared back at them.

“I just… I remember waking up in the woods-,”

“What were you doing in the woods?” Max interjected.

“I… it doesn’t matter. I took a nap and woke up in the backyard, that’s it,” he lied. He didn’t want to delve into his traumas now. Though these people looked like his family, they hadn’t gone through the same thing he did. They didn’t know him the way they should. He could tell them later, if he needed to, but not right now. Robin still looked at him like she knew, though, still seemed to be able to read his mind, ‘I’ve got two brain cells, Stevie, and one of them is yours.’

He sighed as the crew all looked at each other again, resigned to remaining on the outside of this team that wore faces he’d longed to see again. He wasn’t their Steve, and they weren’t his family. They had codes all their own, glances that meant something he couldn’t translate, memories he wasn’t a part of. Steve Harrington was always meant to be alone.

“Wait,” Robin broke the silence. Steve watched as he could see the gears turning in her head, it reminded him of the look she got seconds before cracking the Russian code at Starcourt. “Wasn’t there a gate near your backyard already? From Barb?”

Steve blinked at her. Parallel universe or not, it seemed some events stayed the same.

Nancy filled in Robin’s train of thought, bouncing to the next. “Like you somehow came from the old gate?”

“Did you know that keeping scars healed is a continuous process?” Robin’s train of thought bounced again, seemingly out of nowhere. “The body needs to constantly focus attention on keeping the old wounds healed, it’s called collagen synthesis, which requires vitamin C. So, if you get scurvy the body can no longer maintain the process and your scars can reopen. Bones that have been healed for like twenty years can actually shatter again, too, it’s pretty creepy when you really think about it, like we’re never really fully healed even after decades and-,”

“Robin,” Steve cut in. “Are you suggesting the universe has… scurvy?”

“No? Well… I mean, I guess. I just mean, what if closing the gates wasn’t just a one-and-done thing?”

Nancy seesawed her head back and forth, “Like, what was holding them together is no longer working?” she added. Robin nodded, holding her palms up like Vanna White, presenting Nancy’s contribution to the room.

“Isn’t that kind of a stretch?” Dustin asked.

“We could check the gates,” Max said, “See if they’re still closed?”

El nodded, sitting up a bit straighter, “I can feel them out, see if anything has changed.”

They all worked so well together. Steve had forgotten how easily they came up with plans, the pounding of his heart against his chest as adrenaline raced through his body, sharpening his mind. It all felt so quick, so practiced, no time for dilly-dallying, no time for uncertainty. But… if they found out the gates had opened again, what then? Would he need to go back to his world in order to close them? He looked at each party member one by one, took in their enthusiasm at creating a new plan, at figuring out a puzzle placed in front of them. What if he didn’t want to go back? What was there to even go back to?

“Maybe-,” Steve cut through their chattering voices, and they paused to focus on him. “Maybe we should just check the backyard first. See if that gate is open, and then we can worry about the rest. We should also probably tell the rest of the party, they don’t know any of this has happened yet.” And maybe that could buy him some time.

Just… just a couple more days, a couple more hours at the very least. They weren’t his family, but they were closer than he’d ever thought he’d have again. He wasn’t quite ready to give them up just yet.

“Right,” Robin said, placing her hand gently on Steve’s arm. He wondered how desperately she had craved her own Steve’s touch, if she had sat awake at night feeling like half of herself was missing, ‘two brain cells, Stevie, and one of them is yours.’

She squeezed his arm, and he already knew the answer. She was still Robbie.

“We should call your mom,” Nancy nodded.

“My what?”

—

It’s the little things 👀 expect the unexpected, Stevie

@weirdandabsurd42 @sirsnacksalot @space-invading-pigeon @aliea82 @goodolefashionedloverboi @emly03

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

hello dearest cal i offer thee some emojis and some good writing vibes!!

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮 (omg more cranberry?? HELL FUCKING YESS!!)

- feather

Hi Feather!

Thank you so very much!

45 for 🔼:

---

As it turns out, Christopher is also having nightmares. Eddie calls her one morning, as exhausted as she is, saying he was up all night with Chris. 

“He’s waking up screaming. Really scared, Shan. Did something happen to him up there?” 

Shannon feels terrible. 

“No,” she promises. “I mean, nothing I didn’t already tell you. Maybe seeing Buck fall and get swept away?”

Shannon has been struggling with that, too. But more while she’s awake than while she’s sleeping.

“Carla thinks I should take him to see a therapist,” Eddie says. “Someone who specializes in trauma in children.” 

Shannon could vomit. “She thinks he’s traumatized? Do you think he’s traumatized?”

“I think he went through something traumatic. You all did,” Eddie says. “But, like, he can get past it, right? Because nothing too bad ended up happening.” 

“Right,” she mutters. 

“So what do you think?” 

Shannon takes a deep breath. She’s too tired to think this through clearly. At the forefront of her mind is just the feeling that her son is hurt again, and it’s because of her. Which is ridiculous. She knows it’s ridiculous. She didn’t cause this. He just happened to be with her. And thank fuck Buck was too.

“Shannon?” 

“Sorry, yeah. Uh… I mean, if you think it’s a good idea, I trust you.”

“I think it probably is, but I still feel weird,” Eddie admits. 

“Weird?” Shannon asks. “Weird how?”

“Like, if I had needed this as a kid…” 

Oh. She gets it.

“Your parents never would have gone for it,” she finishes. 

“Yeah. Dad would have said to suck it up and move forward.”

---

45 for 🪞:

---

“It just sort of happened,” Eddie admits. “While you were grocery shopping the other day? And I took her to the park. It slipped out. She thought it was funny. It’s a done deal now.”

Buck smiles affectionately. “That’s very sweet.”

Eddie shrugs again. 

“Why duckling, specifically?” Buck asks. 

“Well, I didn’t know the name of a baby dove, and the generic bird term chick felt very icky-”

“Squab,” Buck offers.

“What?” 

“The name for a baby dove. Squab,” Buck explains.

“Yeah, see, I am not calling your daughter squab,” Eddie retorts.

Your daughter. Your daughter. Your daughter. 

“I appreciate that,” Buck says. 

“My brain was stuck on birds,” Eddie continues. “And then duck rhymes with Buck, and she’s your kid, so… Duckling.”

“Duckling,” Buck repeats. Because she’s his daughter. “Alright. I like it.”

“Well, good,” Eddie says. “I was going to keep using it either way.”

Buck laughs. “I see how much power I hold.”

“Very little,” Eddie agrees. “At least I’m not telling her medical emergency horror stories involving rotisserie chicken.”

Buck groans. “That was one time!”

ii.

It keeps up like that. The general ease and happiness. 

Well, ease might be an overstatement. Adjusting to a six year-old overnight still has its challenges. Especially a six year-old who is still learning how to be a part of a family. Sometimes he forgets it’s all new to her, as well as she fits in with his life. 

Some things are easy. She’s completely over not asking for what she needs; at least not when it comes to Buck, Eddie, Carla, and Maddie and Chim, when they go there for dinners. She’s always polite and never fights him about bedtime - something Buck knows Maddie and Chim struggle with with Jee. 

---

45 for 🦮:

---

Buck laughs. A bitter and cold thing. 

“Where is all this coming from?” He repeats. “It’s so clear that you are only here for Maddie. And that’s fine. Whatever. You don’t want to know me? Fine. Your loss. You don’t give a shit that I nearly died last year? Fine. But to see so plainly that you never cared about me? From the time I was born? I don’t need to sit around and watch that and wonder why.”

There are a range of reactions to Buck’s outburst. One he could have avoided had they just let him leave. 

Eddie grabs his arm, squeezing it like he’s trying to pull Buck back from the edge. 

Margaret starts to cry.

Phillip looks at the floor.

Chim winces, like he’s watching a trainwreck. 

It’s Maddie that speaks up.

“Buck,” she shakes her head, eyes welling over. “Please don’t go there.”

“Go where, Maddie?” Buck asks, exasperated. “Everyone in the room can see it.”

“Buck,” she tries again.

But he just shakes his head at her.

“Let’s go, Eddie,” he says. 

Eddie puts his hand on Buck’s back, and leads him towards the door. His hand on Cranberry’s leash is white knuckling the paracord loop handle. His other hand is shaking. 

🦮🦮🦮

“Two dinners,” Buck says on the drive home. Eddie is in the driver’s seat. Not their usual arrangement, but necessary, tonight. “That's all it took. Two dinners, and I am twelve years-old again, trapped between my sister and my parents.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, eyes flicking between the road and Buck. “That was really painful.”

“And now what?” Buck continues, hardly hearing him. “I have to plan an awkward fucking apology.”

“Whoa, wait!” Eddie’s tone sharpens. “What do you have to apologize for?”

[bohemian-nights]

No this fandom is actually insane

Do people think it’s ok to write “he was teaching her how to bathe”?????? I’m honestly scared to go read the post that they were talking about. The lengths that these people will go to just to prove that dettles never happened

Read at your own risk.

The person who wrote that is actually Black(or so they claim), but is willing to throw Black characters and Black fans under the bus and promote negative stereotypes about us for their mostly (racist) followers in defense of a racist characters desirability.

Sir/ma’am, if you are reading this, get some self respect. I’m actually embarrassed for you cause this shit is actually pathetic. You’re better than this.

Case in point they wrote this crap a while back with 100% sincerity:

(I should also note that I actually had a run in with them about a year and some change ago and they threatened to block me after I asked them if Corlys bathing with Rhaenyra would be normal father daughter figure bonding time so I blocked them first😊).

Like you don’t have to like Dettles, but when you are pushing harmful ideology and stereotypes (Black people are so stupid/dirty that we need the white mans help to civilize us) as a way to discredit them and make those who ship it look like angry Black women jealous of the poor helpless white woman and her stans, you’ve gone too far.

Let’s keep in mind that this poor helpless white woman was actively trying to kill a Black girl for a crime she claims she didn’t commit and that despite claiming that Nettles definitely didn’t sleep with Daemon her stans spazz out everytime you mention her name and actively want her cut from the show.

Or how about the fact that these same stans actively stalk and harass Dettles shippers whose only crime has been pointing out y’all’s bullshit.

Let’s keep in mind all of this shall we:

So who is actually jealous of who here? Who in this scenario wants racial revenge?* Who is the problem in this hellhole of a fandom?

Is it the people merely pointing out Nettles importance to the Dance and Daemon’s arc or the people who hurl racial insults and stereotypes? The people who want her erased from the narrative in its entirety cause she disrupts the status quo?

(The fact that someone would even fix their mouth to say that when Black people have been beaten, raped, enslaved, terrorized, tortured, disenfranchised, abused, subjected, and not even given common decency and respect for centuries by these people. If we wanted racial revenge it damn sure wouldn’t be off the back of a fucking fictional character).

The fact that they can’t see Nettles value and only see her as some irrelevant Black girl and reduce people liking her down to a gotcha/“woke” moment is fandom misogynoir in action.

They forget that she comes from nothing, claims a dragon, has a prince willing to give his life for her(six men or sixty remember that since y’all claim to be capable of reading🙃), survives the Dance and becomes a firewitch worshipped by a group of people, because they don’t want to acknowledge her importance.

It makes them uncomfortable to do so because she doesn’t look like them, but people like I’m not like those other Negros cover up for them so that when they are called out for it they can go see this n-I mean this Black person agrees with me.

Imagine being this butt hurt about a fictional character that you can’t even leave your racism or tap dancing at the door for five seconds.

Nettles doesn’t fit the mold, but that’s the point of her story.

They can recognize maester propaganda and scream about feminism when it comes to their white faves, but when it comes to the Black girl who is actively being stereotyped and maligned for her gender, race, and social standing in the source material they believe it no questions asked?

Again, what does it say about you that you are so willing to believe that a Black girl who was clever enough to claim a wild dragon doesn’t know how to bathe herself? What does it say about you that you think Daemon would never touch her with a ten foot pole just because she’s Black?

What does it say about you don’t want her on the show because of her race? What does it say about you that a fictional character who just so happens to be Black has you worked up into a tizzy.

Y’all claim to be for women(real or fictional), but in reality you only care about the women who look like you and shit on women you see as beneath you. Women who you think are a threat to the status quo. You’re no better than the men who oppress you.

[vhyunjinverse]

Little Gub

f!reader x mgg (angst)

summary: it’s been years…a very long time. her hair was fluffy just like his- her smile a carbon copy. her dark hair, eyes and tan skin were all traits of her mother, but you could still see him in her as they laughed together, Matthew..

warnings: mentions of miscarriages and sex

“Well which one does the princess want?” you hear a male voice on the verge of laughter.

“That one- that Barbie comes with a car like the one i have!” came a little girl’s voice afterwards, in which the male voice laughed. “Of course you can Little Gub.”

You knew that voice- all too well. It’s a voice you wish you’d forgotten. One that you didn’t want to think about, yet it replays in your head everyday.

You close your eyes tightly, counting softly to 5. You were scared, knowing that if you opened your eyes he’d be there, and with her. His little angel..his pride and joy. His daughter. She was all grown up now- she was turning 6 soon. You’d never forget when he told you- how excited he was when she got pregnant..when she had her. How you were his first phone call when she went into labor..how after that day you never talked to Matthew again.

Your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t want to cry, let alone go into a full on panic attack in the mall. You were shopping for art supplies. You owned a shop nearby- business is good..you’re good, or so you told yourself. Tucking your head into the bags of yarn in your hand you walked pass them as fast as you could. Your heart raced, the tears fell.

“no no- don’t do this to me now..” you whispered to yourself. Only a few steps left, you told yourself. Only a few more steps until you could breathe the fresh morning air and get into your car and forget it ever happened. Only a few..

“Ow!” you snapped back into reality, looking down at her..and one of your bags that laid by her feet.

“oh-! I’m sorry- I’m so sorry.” you scrambled for the bag, cursing yourself in your head. “I’m very sorry..”

“Y/N?” You hear his voice- he said your name. You haven’t heard it fall from his lips in years.

“I’m very sorry-“

“Y/N- it’s okay, it’s alright she’s just dramatic.” In which the girl sticks out her tongue. You gather your bag together and apologize again.

“It’s been a long time, we should hang out! Matter of fact- Little Gub’s birthday is tomorrow, how about you come?” You shake your head,

“I’m sorry- I can’t.” Your hands were shaking as you brushed past him, shoulder bumping his arm..it makes you suck in a shuddering breath as you bolted for the doors to freedom.

The trip to your car felt like a lifetime. Once you were in you turned on the ac, not even bothering to put in your seatbelt. Once you could finally..finally sit back, you cried. You let the last seven years out- hell, you screamed even. you can still hear it..the words leaving your mouth that day- that day that it got worse.

“..another miscarriage.” you had muttered to Matthew. You swallowed down the tears and smiled. “It’s okay though- we can try again, there’s nothing wrong with trying again.” You began to walk away to the front desk when he grabbed you from behind, his head leaning into your neck.

“I’m sorry-“

“It’s not you Matthew, the doctor said nothing’s wrong on your end..it’s me, but we can try again..” He didn’t miss the way your shoulder’s shook as you held back the flow of tears. You didn’t want to cry. You cried the first two times..by three you decided that doubting having a baby won’t allow you to have one- and now with four, it was the hardest thing ever. What hurt you the most was Matthew blaming himself for your misfortune. The doctor told you both it was impossible because of your infertility.

“I love you.” He whispered afterwards…

Over the course of six months after that you didn’t ignore how sad Matthew looked- how disappointed he’d be when the pregnancy tests came back negative, or when you bled within your first week of carrying what could be your child. It was eating him alive, and you couldn’t handle it.

You stopped having sex. You couldn’t even look at him without wanting to break down. You found yourself apologizing to him when he held you in bed..you cried together.

You ended things. You couldn’t help but smile when you did so..you didn’t want to cry, but you didn’t want to lose him either. It was only months later he met her…she was beautiful the first time he’d talked to you on the phone about it. You stayed up for hours listening to his ranting. It was like you were best friends again, before you caught feelings for one another..

They got together shortly afterwards, and again he told you all about it. How happy he sounded..

She became pregnant the following year.

You didn’t miss the excitement in his voice as he talked to you on the phone. He was on speaker, you only stared at the phone through the tears that raced down your cheeks.

And then she had her..his Little Gub he called her, Clementine Marilyn Gubler. He called you before she went into labor, you didn’t pick up a phone call after that day. You read his texts to you- her name, how big she was- he told you everything.

He was finally happy..it’s what you wanted, something good for him. And you…You’d be okay. Therapy was nice for a while, the meds worked wonders. You didn’t like being sober enough to think about them..the happy family Matthew had that wasn’t yours.

You moved on…you found your shop, it was your home your everything. But you knew..something was missing, something you’d never get back.

A knock on your window made you jump. You look over, Matthew’s face smiling sadly at you. He looked over the tear stains on your cheeks, Clementine in his arms. You let down the window as he slides a piece of paper to you, an invitation. It was pink with Barbie on it.

“My number’s on the back, give me a call okay? I’d like to talk again, Y/N..”

He gives you a head nod as he pulls back. You roll up the window and watch as he walks away.. he wasn’t parked far. You can see him kiss her head before putting her in the backseat of the car.

He stared at her for a minute…and then there was a smile. You watch Matthew get into his car, but you were already gone by the time he drove away.

You could help glancing at the pink invitation in your lap, knowing you wouldn’t be showing up

[po11yannaswife]

𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑁.𝐼 ๋࣭⭑𝜗𝜚

𖹭 𝑃𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝑥𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𖹭 ;

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐼𝐼 ; 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐼 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑖𝑟𝑐𝑎 1923-1924

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑖-𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠, 𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑎, 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟-𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠, 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑇𝑆𝐷.

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

How I’ve been busy these days.

Grace and Thomas are getting married in two weeks, and I have been expected to help plan it, help with the customs of her dress, make sure Charlie is taken care of if Thomas and Grace have chosen to go out and plan themselves. Or fuck. In return I’m being taught Romani and have a nicer paycheque.

I’m too nice to reject helping the two, even if I don’t fancy Grace. She has a notorious past of being a snitch to the Shelby family, a liar. Somehow, she made her way into Thomas’s heart, and now they have a child together and she is to be joining their family. It’s not my family, so I don’t think I have the right to say much..do I? I don’t have a clue anymore.

When I say I don’t fancy Grace, I mean I don’t trust her. I dislike her. The only reason I am helping, is because she makes Thomas happy. She gave him a child. She gave him the ability to feel true love, to feel the beauty of romance once more and unleash a more affectionate side of him. For that, I do appreciate her for. Usually, if someone did what she did to Tommy, they’d be six feet under, only remains of their bones to be found and the blood would be on Shelby's hands. But, odd enough, he did the complete opposite.

I’m not one to judge being in a very odd love situation, though. I’d be a hypocrite. I have been, for the past four bloody years, desperately in love with Polly. Everything she does ignites this peculiar sense of happiness and fluttering feeling inside of me. Every time she speaks to me, god forbid praises me for my work, my feet kick on their own and an uncontrollable smile happens. I feel like a giddy school girl who has a crush on their superior. It’s awful.

I don’t know if she has noticed. If she has, I’d be surprised she hasn’t shot me yet and gets it over with. Who would want a younger girl hopelessly in love with them? The same bloody sex as them? I couldn’t imagine the stress, the disgust. I feel as if I’d kill myself first if Polly were to make it known she was disgusted or repelled by me, though. And luckily, I don’t think she is.

Ada on the other hand, most definitely has and that brings a sense of fear to me once more. She talks, and it’s not like I told her!  She said she knew by the look in my eye whenever I see Polly, how they dilate immensely, how my cheeks go slightly red..I don’t know. She just blatantly asked when Polly left the room and I couldn’t deny it..I tried.

What scares me is that Polly is much more aware and she knows everything. Does she know about my infatuation with her? God, does she know of this journal? Four years of pure mind vents of my love for her? I think I’d burn this, then go hang myself before I bloody burn in the flames of hell.

With Love.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/l/n?" Francis interjected, capturing your attention as you turned your head. "Do you happen to know where Grace would like this?" She gestured towards the enormous painting of a horse, particularly Tommy's favourite.

You gazed at the painting for a moment, closing your journal in the process. Feeling a bit uncertain, you rose from your seat and surveyed the walls of Tommy's office. As the other maids' murmurs filled the air, you pointed hesitantly at a blank space between two bookshelves and suggested, "I believe this spot should work well, I think."

Oh, yes, the part no one could forget. Partially designing their new countryside mansion! Extremely exciting and absolutely not stressful at all! Why would such a joy ever be stressful?...get the sarcasm yet?

Watching as they went over to that wall and began to place it, looking over at you for your reference. “Here? Or higher?”

"An inch higher... no, a bit lower," you directed, unintentionally losing sight of the strain the maids were enduring. Their discomfort went unnoticed as they struggled to raise the artwork above their heads. One of them held a nail and a hammer, wincing quietly. "Higher," you insisted, the collective groans of the maids unintentionally disregarded.

"Higher- Oh, fuck!" Fortunately, your close proximity allowed you to just manage to catch the priceless painting before disaster struck. "The centre will do! Just in the middle!" You made your decision right then, feeling how heavy the painting was.

With urgency, the maid on the stool grabbed the nail and swiftly drove it into the wall. The frame's edge pressed into your shoulder, a pang of guilt striking you for not fully acknowledging the two women who awaited your decision. "Gently lift the painting upward, that's perfect." The maid on the stool commanded softly.

As a bunch, you guided the artwork, skillfully hooking the wire onto the sturdy nail. The two maids released their grip as you carefully pressed the painting against the wall, ensuring it hung straight. You slid your hands together swiftly afterwards, taking a deep breath. 

“I apologise to the two of you for not choosing quicker.” You spoke to the two women who stood behind you, massaging their own hands as mumbles came from the both of them. “That is one bloody hefty painting, innit Francis?”

“I would’ve made sure to warn you if I would have known you were to help hang it,” She admitted as the third maid climbed down the stool, getting out of your view. “Thank you.”

“Why is that fucking thing so heavy?” You breathlessly rhetorically asked, rubbing your shoulder. “I mean, I get it’s a painting, but fucking Christ.”

Francis chuckled, “Mr. Shelby has exquisite taste, and I presume his taste means we have to almost kill ourselves decorating with it.” You agreed with a hum, turning back to the woman. “You should go home, it’s getting late.”

“Can’t do that with how much they expect of me,” You sighed, “There’s work to do, and if I don’t do it, it’ll stress me out that I have to do it.”

There was silence between the both of you until Francis spoke, her statement making your heart just slightly drop.

“You’re turning into Mr. Shelby.”

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟏���𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

It is Valentine’s day and I cannot say I am happy today for any reason.

Francis has a day off, which means I am taking care of Charlie. Ada is too far in London, and Polly is taking care of the betting shop. Now, I don’t understand why another maid cannot just take care of him. But, what can I do? I’m not gonna let the boy be alone. I make this sound like I take care of him everyday, which isn’t the case, but I’m here quite often. Somehow, I’m starting to miss Small Heath…fuck, am I homesick? 

It’s not like I have any romance with anyone, any partner. I’m not missing out on a fancy outing with my significant other or a good fuck. I never even had a fuck but, still. I’ve always heard in the magazines and books I read it feels good and magical almost. How intimate it is and it’s the best when miracles of life come from it. In real life on the other hand? I've heard quite a different perspective, especially from housewives in places like Birmingham and France. They describe it as becoming monotonous after a few repetitions. According to their accounts, the husband's experience is often centred around his own satisfaction, with little consideration for the wife's pleasure. This seems incredibly..unfair to me. What's even more perplexing is that these same wives end up getting pregnant repeatedly without seemingly experiencing any pleasure from the act. I get so confused. Why does the man receive all the satisfaction while the woman is left with the responsibility of taking care of his children, especially when he might be engaging with prostitutes under the guise of work? I've encountered numerous such men at the betting shop, and I've managed to restrain my reactions in their presence, despite my feelings about it.

Thing is, I don’t want a man to fuck me. Cocks have never gained my attraction, they scare me. And men with their entitlement and nasty personas, just wanting a weak housewife for her to take care of him..it repulses me. I’ve never felt any sort of sexual attraction really, until I think of Polly. It’s this funny feeling, I’m not dumb to not know I’m turned on. I just don’t know how to..take care of it. I think I’m sexually frustrated. Romantically, everything. I’m frustrated with my love life because the person I love is a bloody woman..whom I haven’t seen in a week and I am beginning to go mental. I need to hear her voice again and a single embrace. I love spending time with Charlie and in this beautiful home, but I love her more. 

On the other more serious side, Thomas has let me know that we’ve begun business in Russia. They need weapons, imports, things like that. Britain has gotten him, well, us involved with this to be civil Russian war..it’s hard to understand. Thomas supplies them with weapons since Britain cannot show their support for the capitalists. I’m not good at political topics, but I have some base. I have the burden of being one of the only people knowing this as well, thanks to Tommy. Then, we are dealing with Italians once more, the Changrettas. I pray that they won’t start a war or anything of violent matters.

Oh, not to mention, Arthur has this really religious woman that he plans on marrying, Linda. I don’t like her. She’s real odd. But I suppose love is love, even with some weird eerie Catholic lady.

With Love.

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

The day of Tommy’s and Grace’s wedding and I cannot deny that I am nervous. It is six in the morning as I write this in the car, one of the blinders giving me the ride to Warwickshire. That’s a silly name, even when writing it I giggle to myself. It sounds like a candle.

I will be helping the maids prepare for the celebrations after the ceremony, handling Grace’s hair which I don’t mind, and before even attempting to run to the ceremony, make sure Charlie is in good hands with Francis. I feel like a permanent, more trusted maid for the two lovebirds. I don’t know if I hate it, but all I know is my stress is at an all time high. I hope to see the wedding ceremony, but if I don’t, it’s okay I guess.

There isn’t much else to say here. The day hasn’t even started, I’m not even at the manor or, as properly named, the Arrow House. I hope all goes well and the future newlyweds can enjoy their day without any mishaps. This is the Peaky Blinders we’re speaking of here so, that probably won’t happen.

With Love.

“Mr. Shelby hasn’t mentioned you’re a writer, Miss Y/l/n.” The driver stated his observation in almost a flirtatious tone. “You an author?”

You laughed, shutting the book and putting it into your bag that was full with the dress and accessories for later in the day. “No, no. I journal as a way to speak freely of my experiences without the stress of someone saying anything. It’s nothing, really.”

“Without the stress of someone saying anything?” He cocked a brow, repeating your statement in a more questioning way. “Why, you’ve been bad? What do you do, pretty girl?”

This felt weird, and not in a good way. He knew what you did for a living, everyone knew that associated with the peaky blinders, so why was he seemingly trying to get something out of you? That or..horrible flirting. His question still stood, so you answered it as subtly as you could. “No. Just have been doing my job.” 

The way he was silent for the rest of the ride made you assume that your stern tone made him equally uncomfortable. Once you were in front of the house, you opened the door, searched through your pocket and took out three quid. “I haven’t been informed on what your pay is, so this is an appreciation. But, listen to me closely,” You leaned in, getting the man slightly scared just from the tone in your voice as it lowered a few octaves.

“Don’t ever question what we do, especially to us. You know what we do. Understood?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes at him.

He quickly nodded, “Yes ma’am.” 

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a hold of your bag and left the car, shutting the door behind you. You took a key out of your pocket and welcomed yourself in, gently closing the door. The quietness that filled the home made you weary of your footsteps, ready to take your stilettos off so the clicking wouldn’t disturb anyone.

Voices upstairs could be heard once you were in the dining room, by now it was around seven. A sigh escaped your lips as you placed your bag down. Driven by your lingering sense of paranoia, you retrieved a needle and thread to mend the already-buttoned opening. It was a seemingly small action, but your cautious nature prevailed. In your view, there was no such thing as being overly cautious.

A sudden exclamation from Francis, calling out "Oh, Miss Y/l/n!" startled you, causing the needle to prick your finger. However, you had become somewhat used to this sensation by now. Bringing your finger to your lips, you sucked on it for a moment before resuming your task, focusing on stitching diligently.

"Good morning, Francis," you said in a subdued tone as she approached, her curiosity evident. Anticipating her unspoken query, you explained, "I can't bring myself to leave this with just a button. I'm sewing it shut, so later on, I can easily cut it open with a blade."

Francis raised an eyebrow and suggested, "You are aware that you have your own personal room, yes?"

Confused by the statement, you halted your stitching. You inquired, "I wasn't informed about any personal room…?"

Responding wordlessly, Francis gestured for you to follow her, picking up your bag as she did so. Your eyes widened at the realisation, and you swiftly stood up, hurrying to keep pace with her. “Francis, please be careful, that has my dress and necklace-!” You seethed as the bag swung a little too much, hitting the railing. 

She continued her way up the stairs, wandering you both down the never ending hallways of the house. Your eyes automatically gazed on their family portraits and various other paintings in awe as you stepped up the stairs, wishing to be so rich you could get a portrait of yourself one day.

"Tonight, all members of the Shelby family will be assigned rooms, but Mr. Shelby specifically requested a permanent arrangement for yours," she informed you. With a touch of irony, she opened a door directly opposite Charlie's room and carefully placed your bag on the loveseat within.

At this point, there was no concealing your awe. The room was a marvel to behold. Lavish golden sconces, intricate stained glass, and a captivating view of the grand entrance through the windows. it was a space that could very well overlook your entire residence in Small Heath. Correction, it most certainly did. "Miss Burgess also insisted that this room be yours, as it's in proximity to Charlie's room. Furthermore, their own bedroom is only a few doors down the hall. The lavatory can be found further along the corridor, and you'll find cloths in the linen closet."

“Fuck..” You breathed out, studying the exquisite bedroom. “Thank you.”

Francis nodded, “Shall I come in when Miss Burgess needs you?” She stopped herself, pinching her nose. “You’ll be helping us..nevermind. Apologies.”

“No worries. I’ll be down in a few. Where are we starting, by the way?” 

“The main entertainment room. We begin the dining later on before the ceremony. We’ll start earlier for your sake of getting to the ceremony.” You smiled at the consideration, relieved that you may possibly be able to.

“Right, thank you Francis.” She bowed her head before leaving the bedroom to yourself, shutting the wooden door behind her.

You went over to your bag that was sitting on the loveseat, taking the blade from your garter and slicing the unfinished stitching. You took out your dress, smiling at it briefly before laying it down on the bed. You took your journal out and put it at the desk area, trusting no one would touch it. Everything was out of the bag from the dress to your heels, putting it snugly under the bed.

After a few minutes, you checked on Charlie before going back downstairs, finding all the maids right where they were expected to be. They all looked at you as if you were their leader, and you looked at the underdecored room and the fancy decorations in stacks near a corner.

You smacked your lips, debating whether or not to run out and leave to get out of it. Instead, you clapped your hands, “Right, Ethel, begin with the bowls for the alcohol, everyone else, begin melting the candles to the candelabrums! Please!” Everyone nodded and went to their destinations of their jobs, leaving you to start giving the men jobs. “John, William, Henry, begin to set up the dancing area where the musicians will be playing. Thank you.”

They all nodded, walking away. You stood there, savouring the relaxation you had for those few seconds before getting to work with the other ladies, already awaiting for Grace to call you up just to get away from chaos.

And as quick as it was, three hours had passed and Francis had called for you, letting you leave the other women and go find her. Once you did, she smiled politely. “Miss Burgess will see you now.”

“Thank you, Francis. Once again.” You stepped up the stairs, heading straight for the main bedroom that Grace and Tommy shared. You stopped just as you were about to knock, taking a deep breath in case there was any tension or confessions waiting to happen. As you had said before, you disliked her, didn’t hate her. You also had made the promise to Thomas that this would be a civil, peaceful day. Everyone did. No fights were to happen, and no talk of past mistakes and actions.

Finally, you knocked lightly on the door, greeted by a soft “Come in.” You turned the doorknob and let yourself in, smiling at Grace who was at her vanity. “Good morning, Y/n.”

“Morning Grace.” You replied kindly, stepping more into the room. “How are you?”

Grace laughed with a pure smile on her face, “Excited. How are you? I’ve heard you got here quite early.”

You hummed, studying her hair you had set last night. You had to wash the hair with some of the most expensive and most nicest products one could reach, wait for it to dampen up so it wouldn’t get too frizzy, take setting lotion, gently run it through the hair evenly, then use an amount of bobby pins no one could count to make these curls, and use silk to cover it for the night. Next day, now you have to take it out, and use your fingers to tame the curls before having them set, then put this wonderfully and elegant jewel encrusted aliceband over and make sure before the ceremony, her veil is fit.

You began to remove bobby pins, “I’m alright, thank you..just a little nervous.” You admitted to the woman, yawning in the process. “I’m gonna try my absolute best to make your hair as flawless as possible.”

“I trust you, Y/n, I would’ve chosen one of the maids or someone from London if I didn’t.” Grace spoke softly, filing her nails as she studied you with a concerned look . “Have you brought an outfit? I don’t mean to offend, but-”

“Don’t worry Grace, I have a more appropriate outfit for the occasion in my bedroom, which,” You plopped another pin into the dish, “You have no idea how much I am grateful for. I appreciate the kindness you and Tommy have given me to give me such a room.”

Grace chuckled, looking at you through the mirror. “You’ve helped us much with our baby boy and getting settled here. You earned that room, Y/n.” You smiled in response, staying silent as you focused on her hair and getting it finished so she could move on with other responsibilities.

There were a few minutes of complete silence between the two of you, avoiding Grace’s occasional gaze was a little tough, feeling a little awkward before she sucked in a breath. You looked at her with your eyebrows raised, worried something was wrong. 

“You do think Thomas loves me, yes?”

The question made you freeze, wondering why she’d ask you such a peculiar thing. Everyone has doubts and thoughts on their big day, but what you were confused on was why she was asking specifically you this question. Taking one of the very last pins out, you grabbed the comb that was beside her and finally peered up at her.

After a second of mustering up your thoughts, your thumb ran along the edges of the comb. “Grace, may I give you an honest answer?” She nodded, slight fear visible in her blue eyes. You began to lightly comb through the curls, no longer looking at her. “If anyone else did the things you did to Tommy and Ada, they would be dead. They would be brutally murdered by our men.” You stated gently, turning her head to the side. “But, you, Grace, because you had stolen his heart, because you bloody had him fall in love with you, he didn’t. He didn’t dare to hurt you. And that, my love, that is true love. You betrayed him and yet he still came back, and that shows me how much he does truly love you and forgive you for your selfish mistakes.”

Grace stared at you as you explained your words, not offended, just surprised. “I’m happy for you both, but you wanted the honest truth.”

“I did.” Grace responded quickly, folding her hands in her lap. “And I appreciate it. I appreciate you for treating me well and supporting our decision.”

“Appreciate me?” You quipped, puzzled. “For supporting your decision to get married to Tommy?”

“We both know how Polly feels about this.” She narrowed her eyes at you, her voice more stern. “So yes, I do appreciate you.”

“I think Polly is valid for the way she feels, you know how she is, Grace.” You said truthfully, sighing in the process. “No means to offend, but she doesn’t trust you one bit. Nor has she forgotten. The ones you think have forgotten haven’t, they’re just pretending to do so to either to make Tommy happy, or for their own benefit. I do believe people can change, Grace, believe me when I say this. I believe you have indeed changed, but we will still never forget.”

Grace didn’t say one word, just gazing at you with such..guilt? You didn’t know. “How about we focus on the nice things today, eh? You have a bright baby boy, you’re getting married, you’re filthy rich, have a huge manor, and have a very attractive husband to be. You’re lucky, Grace. Wish I was like you.”

“...You’re in love with-?”

“Oh, god no!” You shouted, shaking your head. “I’d rather hang myself.”

Grace furrowed her brows, “I’m marrying him.” Her voice was stern, as if she was now frustrated with your impulsive choice of words.

Awkwardly peering back up at her, you laughed, “Not- not in a bad way! No! I feel like that with all men! I mean I could never be attracted to one.” Realising what you had just said, you wanted to take the comb in your hand and stab it into your eyes. You wanted to jump out the window and let fate do the job. You wanted to die. Grace looked even more confused now, only one of her eyebrows raised. “Where’s the alice band, love?”

Her lips curved into a genuine smile, and the remark slipped from her memory as she accessed a drawer. From within, she retrieved a velvet box, presenting it to you as though it were a precious gem. “Tommy got it specially made for me. My mother wore one on her wedding day with her veil, so I must continue the tradition. Tommy and I are gonna try for a girl next, so she can carry it on.” She rambled enthusiastically, clapping her hands twice as a sign of her excitement. You smiled in return, gently taking the top off and admiring the band for a second. It was quite actually glimmering. You took it out as carefully as possible and targeted the loops, placing it on top of her head slowly before adjusting it. 

Taking one of the bobby pins, you put it through a loop at one of the ends and placed it through, then ensuring it’d stay by attaching it to her hair. You repeated the action for the other side, your hand lightly laying on her neck. “There we are, Grace.”

She grinned brightly, admiring herself in the mirror as she looked at it from all angles. “It’s gorgeous.” She spoke, turning to you after admiring herself for those few moments as you just stood there, relieved it was okay. She stood up, taking a deep breath before taking both of your hands. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” You returned a small smile, yawning once again. “Sorry.”

“You look absolutely dreadful.” You squeezed your eyes shut at the comment, facepalming yourself as Grace tried to save herself. It was really nice hearing that after all you had done. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, Y/n. I meant it in a concerned manner.”

“It’s what happens when you don’t get any sleep.” You groaned, glancing in the mirror and trying to tame your hair slightly. 

“Here,” Grace opened her drawer, her other hand around your wrist. She pulled out a few bejewelled clips, putting her attention back on you. The glimmering Sapphire made your eyes dilate as she took a brush and brushed through your hair for a few minutes, pulling it back and delicately placing the clips in so it stayed. She placed the other two halfway to your roots, securing the clips. “It’s not as much effort as you put into my hair, but I think you look beautiful.”

You smiled, nodding in agreement. “I do. Even the little things count, eh?”

Grace chuckled, “You can keep them.”

“Oh, nonsense-”

“Please. Keep them, they’re my gift for your efforts.” Grace stopped you as you looked at her with wide eyes. “Sapphire looks wonderful with your eyes. And it is your birthstone, yes?”

The consideration and kindness made you bipolar with how you felt about Grace. It was strange. On one side, you had already explained to her that you literally disliked her, and so did most of the family. The gesture was unexpected, to say the least. On the other hand, she most likely wanted to heal the wounds she made with kindness, like right then. Nonetheless, after you thought, you gave her a small smile, murmuring an appreciation.

“If I’m holding you from tasks, you may go. I apologise for keeping you so long.” Grace offered, pushing the drawer shut and walking over to where her dress was. You looked at the clock and silently gasped, a fucking hour had passed.

“Yes, I actually must. I have to get ready myself.” You said in a panicked tone, glancing up at her one last time. “Is there anything else you need, Grace?”

“For you to get bloody ready.”

And so you did.

After her words left her lips, you swiftly made your way to your bedroom, the door meeting a resounding slam as it closed behind you. The champagne coloured satin dress laid before you, accompanied by the strap pumps recently gifted by Tommy during his New York trip with Grace, and, of course, the opal earrings from France. Except for moments of dirty tasks, the ring your mother gave you adorned your finger without failure.

Your first task involved delicately fastening your stockings to the garters, the fabric ascending to your lower thigh with a clip to your garter. Then, quickly removing your previous attire due to the frigid temperature, you hastened to slip the lightweight dress over your head, your arms seamlessly finding their places within the designated sleeves. A glance at the mirror prompted a meticulous adjustment, as you meticulously smoothed out any creases or imperfections. A content smile graced your lips as the dress obediently hugged your curves and elegantly emphasised your waist..and your cleavage just slightly.

A muffled thud against your door drew your eyebrows together in puzzlement; Francis or Grace typically announced their arrival without delay. With cautious steps, you approached the door, a soft gasp escaping as you found Charlie outside, his expression marred by a frown. "Oh, baby," you cooed, your arms embracing the…husky child as you lifted him up with a quiet grunt. You closed the door behind you, setting Charlie comfortably in a cocoon of pillows. “What were you doing out there silly?” You rhetorically asked, booping his nose which elicited a cute laugh from him. You grinned before stepping away, continuing to get ready. You closed the necklace around your neck that was simply pearls, put your earrings in with a little bit of trouble to get them through, and that was practically it. You had painted your nails the night before and your light makeup was already on.

“Charlie, honey,” You sat on the bed next to him, getting your pumps on. “I’m gonna be gone for a while, so you’re gonna go to Francis, okay?” The frown had returned as you pet his hair back lovingly, adjusting the last strap to your shoe. “Mummy will say goodbye before she leaves too.”

You stood back up and put your wrap over your shoulders, putting a coat clip in the middle so it stayed put. You then picked Charlie back up carefully, bringing him back to his bedroom where Grace was heading.              

“Y/n? Please let Francis know General Curran is welcomed inside once he arrives.” You nodded, running down the stairs just to attempt to get to the church on time, checking on the maids one last time before heading outside after letting Francis know of Grace’s message.

Panic settled in when you lost track of even planning how’d you get there, afraid of ruining your dress and looking like an idiot. You felt fucked in this situation, minutes of standing outside and debating whether to just miss it or not.

“You alright, pretty girl?” You recognised the voice immediately.

Turning to the man who had driven you earlier, he had a cheesy grin on his face as he leaned against his car. You rolled your eyes, heading right towards it. “Thank you.” You muttered as he opened the car door for you, shutting it behind. He got into his seat, immediately beginning to drive. 

“Mr. Shelby sent me for you.”

“Tommy?”

“Arthur.” He corrected. You laughed to yourself as you searched your clutch for everything you needed, shutting it once you confirmed you did.

The drive wasn’t far at all, which was the tiniest bit shocking. Once at the church, you paid him another five quid before exiting the vehicle, yelling an appreciation as you rushed yet quietly tip-toed inside.   

Arthur’s eyes lit up as you entered the church, smirking like he had just won a bet. You returned the smile before awkwardly getting on the side that obviously wasn’t full of calvary men, everyone there greeting you as you tried to get somewhere comfortable and not full of crying children.

“Y/n,” Polly called, clearly in a mood. “Here.”

With a sense of tension, you offered apologies under your breath to everyone in your acquaintance, then manoeuvred yourself to slip in behind Linda. Polly reached out, her hand enveloping your forearm as she drew you closer to her. A faint flush coloured your cheeks at her touch, and you stole a quick glance up at her.

She subjected you to a thorough gaze, her eyes meticulously taking in every inch of your being in what seemed like admiration. "You're quite the vision," she remarked, her tone suggestive of approval.

Caught off guard by her comment, your eyes widened, a hint of worry creeping in. "Oh, well, yes. Is that alright?" you stammered, concern lacing your words.

Polly cocked a brow at your question, “You worry too much, sweet girl. You look lovely.” Her hand went to your upper back, rubbing it before taking it back to herself. You couldn’t help but frown when her touch left you, feeling cold once again.

“It’s nice to meet you again, Miss Y/l/n.” Linda spoke ever so quietly, making you slowly turn towards her with a faux smile.

“No need for formalities. I’m not that old, Linda.” Polly quietly chuckled from behind you, that making you swiftly turn around again. “What? I’m not!” You shouted in a hush manner. “I’m not even 24!-”

“Hush, you silly girl. I know. I was suggesting it to someone else.” Her words were jumbled up at the end of the sentence, making sure Linda couldn’t hear it. Your cheeks flushed a bright red, feeling humiliated at this point. You cleared your throat and raised your hands to your cheeks, waiting for yourself to cool down.

A boy came around with what you had assumed was the chorus, handing it to everyone with a cheerful smile. Once he got to you, Polly, and Linda, Linda took one graciously and right when you were about to, Polly’s hand quickly snatched your wrist without even sparing a look at you, her tight grip taking you by surprise.

“Some of us know the words.” Polly firmly stated, looking down at the boy as if he was a peasant. You gave him an apologetic smile, submitting to Polly silently by not taking the paper. He walked away quickly, leaving you to finally release the breath you were holding in. Before you could even say a word, music had started playing, and Grace had arrived.

Seconds later, Grace with General Curran were walking down the aisle, everyone at this point silent except the chorus. Her veil was over her face, the purple satin dress dragging behind her elegantly. Your hands were clasped and a small smile graced your features, unaware of the fact that Polly was gazing down at you with adoration still, not a care in the world for Grace.

Vows were exchanged quickly and the knot was tied with a final kiss, one side of the room erupting with clapping and booming cheers, whilst the opposite was quiet and ever so elegantly clapping their hands. Polly slowly clapped, watching them turn back to you with not the most enthusiastic looks ever, but satisfied as Thomas raised his fist in the air like he had victory.

“Part one is done.” You said, adjusting your ring. “Now it’s the actual wedding.”

First part of the actual wedding was the annual Shelby and Burgess family photograph to be taken. Now, this was a tough part, you didn’t feel appropriately included in the picture since you weren’t a Shelby, awkwardly hugging yourself for warmth as you stood back, judgingly watching the four girls fight over a bloody bouquet.

“Oi! Y/n! The fuck are you doin’?” Arthur shouted, obviously confused which had made you even more confused.

“I’m not a Shelby. Not family, Arthur. Take the picture.” You shouted back through the wind, wincing at the chill that was sent up your spine.

“Oi, are you fuckin’ joking? Get up here!” John called out, waving his hand.

“John, I-”

Thomas cleared his throat, “Y/n, get the fuck in the picture before I have Arthur drag you up here.” He stated as if he was tired from the day already. You widen your eyes before huffing, stepping up the stairs and going to the Shelby side. “With the wives.”

Polly watched as you squished yourself beside her, Linda and Esme behind you both. You huffed once again, putting your hair behind your ears before the picture was taken. Arthur then stood beside you now, leaving you squished between Arthur and Polly. You couldn’t deny it was nice, they were both warm. He put his arm around your shoulder, “Alright! Take the photograph!” He shouted, an automatic smile tugging at your lips. The light flashed instantly, though, another type of chill was sent up your spine at this point. One even Polly could feel. 

You all stepped off as Grace began to enter the carriage, and your eyes met Tommy’s. He stared at you for only a couple seconds, cocking his head to the right before getting into the carriage with her. You looked, and you didn’t know who you were looking at, you just knew it wasn’t good.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“What the fuck do you mean the bloody Russians are here, Tommy?!” You paced in front of his desk, your voice almost a cry. 

“Refugee.” He corrected, his voice gruff. “Apparently.”

“Like I give a fuck! This is your bloody wedding day! What- what will you tell Grace? Hm? What will you tell her if-”

He sighed, pinching his nose. “I’ll tell her the truth. I just need you to keep an eye on things, because this is my fucking wedding day, and I have to spend time with my wife.” Your eyes rolled at his words, frustrated you now had this responsibility. “Don’t go around telling fucking Polly, or Arthur, or John about this until needed. You understand?” he pointed his finger at you, narrowing his eyes.

Your arms folded across your chest, squinting your eyes at him. “So what am I supposed to say when it’s obvious I’m so panicked?”

“That you’re fucking afraid you’ll never get married, something along those stupid fuckin’ lines. Point is, it is my bloody job.” He rose from his seat, pacing around the desk, and leaned slightly over you as his finger made contact with your chest with each emphasized word.“Stay fucking quiet, yeah? Nothing will happen.”

Scoffing, you retorted. “That’s what you always say. You always say nothing will happen. You always promise that nothing will go wrong. You always-” Before you could finish your sentence, his hand gripped the back of your jaw firmly, swiftly tilting your head up toward him, a gesture reminiscent of a whore getting forced to give a blowjob. No, it wasn't an appealing situation.

His face inched closer to yours, huffing. “Nothing. Will. Fucking. Happen.” The words emerged from his mouth with a coarse and irritated tone. He released your jaw moments later and then exited the room in a rush, leaving you feeling frustrated, nearly on the brink of tears, and seething with anger. Your fingertips soothed the irritated skin where he had gripped you, and you took deep breaths, determined not to ruin your makeup.

After taking minutes to yourself, you walked out of the office and into the bustling rooms full of music and dancing and alcohol, hoping to god you didn’t look bad. You pushed through crowds, feeling overwhelmed from everything going on and having to keep a lookout for god knows what.

All the men were being called downstairs, so the crowds were getting smaller, to your luck. You rushed to where alcohol was being served and gave yourself a generous amount, chugging all of it in one go. You gave smiles to everyone who passed, the only concerns in your mind was keep your dress clean and to make sure nothing happened. No fights, no bets, no cocaine, no prostitution. Now you realised, you were literally fucking security. Just glamourised.

At least you looked absolutely gorgeous.

“Y/n!” Ada chirped, her arms coming to your side and squeezing you tightly. “God, I haven’t seen you in awhile! You look lovely! A little skinnier, quite actually.”

The laugh that elicited from your lips was light and genuine, your arms going to wrap around her as well. “Tell me about it,  I’ve missed you. Tommy practically holds me hostage here.” You joked, laying a kiss on her cheek after she backed away.

“I pity you. He’s my own brother and I couldn’t even do that. Pity and admire you.” Her eyes went to the sapphire clips in your hair, her eyebrows slowly raising in curiosity. “Now I know you’d never spoil yourself like this.”

You looked around you before drawing closer to Ada, murmuring. “Grace gave them to me.” The smile that came onto her face was almost mischievous, your eyes filling with slight fear. “Do not dare to even mention this to Polly. I’ll get the most passive aggressive talk of my life.”

“So you’re fond of Grace?”

“I talked to her. She knows I dislike her, but I gave her my reasoning to why I’m not like Polly. Tommy is happy, and if she makes him happy, I’m not gonna be a cunt. Polly is valid, of course, for her feelings.”

“Aw, someone wants to make Polly happy.” Ada grinned as you side eyed her, getting a bit flustered. “I’ll make sure she has no eye on any man tonight.”

“Shut up, Ada.” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest. “I gotta let it pass.”

“It’s been like this for four years. Now I may not be the most clever, but I do not think that is an option anymore.” Ada sighed, peering at you with a little pity. “How much do you love her, Y/n?”

The question made your head jerk at her, shaking your head from left to right. “I refuse to answer this here, Ada. I don’t want anyone knowing. I didn’t even want you to know cause I’m afraid.” 

Ada frowned, her hand coming to your hair. “Why would you be afraid of me? I’m literally Ada fucking Thorne.” She said as if the statement was obvious and would change everything. You rolled your eyes and smacked your lips, getting another serving of alcohol.

“Just, don’t say a word to Pol. Please, Ada.” Ada compiled by using her two fingers to mimic zipping her lips up, taking a sip of her drink afterwards. You huffed before looking around, furrowing your eyebrows at the sight of Polly being obviously disturbed. 

She made eye contact with you, speeding over to you with fake smiles to everyone else. Ada watched the scene as she did, Polly’s hand immediately placed on your shoulder as she leaned in close to your ear. "Știți de cei care nu sunt pe listă?"

Your breath hitched, discovering something inside of you when she spoke Romani. You didn’t know what it was, well, you did. The way her warm breath fanned your neck and her gravelly accent made you a mess, stammering for such a simple reply.

“N-no.” You denied knowing, trying your absolute best to lie. Ada watched the scene with a snarky grin as she stared in amusement. 

Polly hummed, pulling away from you and squeezing your shoulder. “We’ll see about that.”

A couple of hours passed, and you found yourselves gathered in the dining room, a medley of conversations filling the air. Sitting beside Ada, you listened as she delved into politics with an evident passion, a reassuring sight. However, across the table, the expressions were a mix of disinterest and utter interest at Ada's discourse. You nodded along mindlessly before realising your drink was now empty, “Excuse me for a moment.” You smiled at everyone, glaring at the refugee who sat across from you. No, it was not an invitation for him to follow you, yet he did subtly. You took your glass and made your way to the next room, beginning to pour some whiskey into it.

“I have yet to introduce myself,” The voice made you freeze, cursing to yourself as you turned around. “I-”

“I know who you are, Mr. Kaledin. Very well so.” You cut him off, glaring at him from below. “What do you want from me? I’m not in the mood for flirtatious traps.” 

He was caught off guard, a quiet chuckle left his lips before returning his gaze to you, “You know, where I come from, ladies have manners. Russia. They introduce themselves elegantly.” He reminded you of where he was from, talking to you like you were some sort of moron.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your head jerking to glance at him, “Oh, you’d like to talk of manners, eh? Hm?” You taunted, your glare now as sharp and threatening as a knife. His lips pursed as you began to speak. “Well, if we’re on that topic, I don’t think it’s very mannerly, or appropriate, or fucking smart to crash Thomas’s wedding day, to talk about business. Where I come from, people don’t ruin weddings to talk about fucking business, because it’s fucking human decency. But I guess you Russians lack that bloody simple decency, yes?” Your voice was extremely condescending towards the end. “Elegance currently isn’t my main concern. My main concern is you horrendous bastards ruining Tommy’s special day. Especially you, Mr. Kaledin.”

He studied you as you filled your cup with even more whiskey, licking his lips, “Where are you from?”

“France. Bagnères de Luchon.” You turned around, your back facing him. You observed him through the mirror, smiling to yourself. “You know, there's a certain saying we have in France, Anton. Comme on fait son lit, on se couche…I think you may relate to it later tonight.”

A chuckle elicited from his throat, “And what must that mean?” 

An amused, tiny smile tugged at your lips, swirling the amber liquid in your glass as you turned around to face him. “Comme on fait son lit, on se couche, means, figuratively speaking, you will take the responsibility for your actions, and deal with the consequences. As one makes one's bed, one lies down.” Emphasising each word with your fingers, you could hear how he slightly gulped, a quiet giggle escaping your lips, a faux look of innocence taking over your eyes.

 He stared at you, processing the explanation. You studied him for a bit longer before beginning to step away, laying your hand on his shoulder and whispering ever so softly,, “And you, my friend, have made your bed. And I assure you, Mr. Kaledin, you will be lying in it by the end of this glorious night.”

As you finally stepped away with a now, frustrated yet victorious  demeanour, Ada and Polly were peering at you as you entered the dining room, Kaledin bashfully following from behind. Your dress flowed elegantly behind you as you sat down, Polly leaning back in her chair to watch you and Ada already staring at you. Polly’s glare was cut off by Kaledin trying with her now, which you had tuned out.

“What did you say to the poor man? He was ten times paler than he was before.” Now, Ada had no clue what was happening, nor did you want her to know. You turned to look at her, attempting to muster up some sort of convincing excuse.

“He attempted to flirt with me and I shut it down with..class..and I guess he has never had a woman stand up to him before…yeah.” 

Ada squinted her eyes towards you, her lips in a thin line as she processed the explanation. You gulped down your whiskey, praying to every god that she’d just believe it. Ada hummed, shrugging her shoulders. “So he is making his rounds to Polly?”

You rolled your eyes, groaning. “Don’t even. I can’t handle more stress than I already have. I don’t need to strangle myself with the thought of her dating a man and me having to see it.” 

“Four.” Lizzie whispered as she passed by swiftly, leaving you utterly confused, your mouth open to ask her what she meant, yet she was too quick.. You glanced at Ada for an explanation.

She stammered, not wanting to stress you out more. “Um..four..men are giving Polly the..eye.” She offered her full glass of whiskey to you, pouring some in your glass as you obviously did indeed get more stressed. Your fists clenched and tears burned at your eyes, wanting to just pass out at this point and fall asleep for a week straight in your alluring new bedroom. “It doesn’t mean she’ll fuck them. It’s Polly we’re talking about.”

“How does she notice them but for four years she doesn’t notice me at all? Am I invisible, Ada? Is that what it is? Does she not like me?” Your voice cracked, almost inaudible so Polly wouldn’t hear, no one for that matter. Ada shook her head from left to right.

“She adores you. Stop worrying so much. You’re going to start getting grey hairs.”

“Oh, god no!” You almost shouted, Ada laughing at your reaction as your hands flew to your scalp. “I’m too young!”

Finally, Grace and Tommy strode in, Arthur following from behind. You sighed in relief, muttering to Ada, “Grace let me know they’re trying for a girl..but I didn’t think during their fucking wedding.” Ada put her hand over her mouth, the whole table seeing the two of you like the giggly schoolgirls who were gossiping.

“Thank you all for coming, sorry we are late.” Thomas spoke with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, Grace sat next to him as he stood. “Now, I wanted to give my toast to my..lovely wife..” ….And this is where you took your chance to close your eyes and just have a tiny bit of relaxation, the tiniest bit. It was just the speech to Grace, nothing to miss-

“To the Bride!” 

Jerking up, you immediately grabbed your glass and stood up, muttering the same words. Tommy stared at you as he noticed you were technically sleeping throughout the short speech, rolling his eyes. You sat back down, adjusting your posture and making sure to not fall into another short slumber.

Tommy cleared his throat, looking nervous. “According to..tradition..my best man will say a few words.” And with that sentence, you immediately knew why Tommy was nervous. You were absolutely awake now, waiting to see this. 

“Go on, here he goes! Go on, Arthur!” John cheered, clapping his hands. Arthur gave a shy wave of his hands, and you were already smiling at what was already happening.

“I’d like to..erm..I’m not one for speeches-”

“Sing then!”

“I will later, John.” He murmured, and his stance was as if he was asking his mother for something from the shops and he was excited yet nervous for her response. You took out a cigarette and lit it, blocking the smoke from Ada’s face with your hand. “But, er, I do, er, I do have some words written down here..on this piece of paper. This doesn’t include everything I want to say-”

“Arthur just, just read what we wrote down, eh?” You had to bite down on your lip as you took a sip of your whiskey, making eye contact with Thomas who looked incredibly annoyed. “Come on now.”

“I will, Tom, I will. But uh…first…a few words from..from the heart.” Thomas dropped his head in defeat, Grace comforting him by rubbing his shoulder.

“Oh my god.” You whispered to yourself, Ada pinching your shoulder in response.

Arthur cleared his throat, “Um..this man here, my brother Tommy, help me survive through some of the worst times-” Thomas coughed loudly and you couldn’t contain yourself much longer, covering your mouth.

“It’s a wedding, Arthur, tell a joke.” Michael flatly said, clearly bored.

John agreed, “Yeah, tell a joke!” 

Arthur continued on nonetheless, “What I’m trying to say is that..my brother and the love of a good woman pulled me through that,” He glanced at Linda as she smiled happily at her important mention, making you roll your eyes. “Now, Tommy also, er, has the love of a good woman. Her name is Grace..like the grace of the good lord..and even though, the circumstances of the union was tragic-”

Your laugh released itself, immediately covering your mouth back up as you sunk in your chair, not even caring at everyone looking at you. This was probably the most you had laughed in awhile, Ada giggling a bit with you as well. Tommy took over the..speech..”Let’s raise a toast, eh? To- to love, peace, to marriage.”

“Fan-fantastic job Arthur, you did..it was poetic.” You complimented, trying to reassure the obvious humiliated man. You looked to your right to see Polly leaning back in her chair, glaring at you. That made you giggle even more, mouthing a fake apology.

Arthur walked away, Linda and Thomas following him. Now you could really laugh, literal tears coming to your eyes. “Jesus, Y/n!”

“I’m sorry! That- oh my god! He brought up the union Ada, the union! In a wedding speech! A bloody toast! The union wasn’t tragic, that speech was!” Ada practically spat out her drink, covering her mouth as well now too. 

“Stop. Stop. Oh my god.” Ada choked, taking a deep breath. You giggled one last time, saying a prayer under your breath so you wouldn’t go to hell for bloody…you didn’t even know.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I thought I did good.”

“Oh, you-” You didn’t want to lie to the man, sighing. “Arthur, you know Tommy isn’t all sentimental like that. It would’ve been fantastic if it were for Ada or Curly. And, Art, I love you so fucking much, but why did you bring up the union? What- what reason?”

He grumbled, “Linda said confronting our souls with the tragedies in our past set us for eternal peace with ourselves..thought that’d help Tommy.” He looked down shamefully, and you were trying again not to giggle. “I thought speaking from the heart would bring- bring some peace to this night, hmm?”

Taking a deep breath, you sadly smiled at him, nodding. “I know. I know. Linda is uh, really..influential, hm?”

“Yes. But it’s for the better.” He stared at the his hands and you laid your hand on his cheek, turning his gaze to you.

“You had good intentions, Art. I’m proud of you for trying.”

“Thank you.” He shyly appreciated it, smiling. “Now, you go have fun. I’ll be outside.”

“I’ll try.”

With one last smile, you walked out of the hallway and into the bustling party, looking for anyone you clearly knew. You picked up another glass of alcohol, saying a prayer to your liver before taking a sip of it.

After a few minutes of looking, you felt your heart slightly drop at the sight of, as you assumed, one of the men that was eyeing her up, and Polly talking. Jealousy consumed you quicker than ever, feeling rage to yourself. To the stupid man. Tears brimmed at your eyes at how bad the envious feeling was, and you couldn’t help but stare in absolute despair, watching her be so happy with someone else. You wanted to almost die at that moment, your brain going at lightning speed to the worst conclusions that he would replace you instantly or any hope you had left would vanish.

“Can I talk to you?” A gruff voice alerted you, “Privately.”

A sigh left your lips when you heard Thomas. “If you don’t wound me, yes.” You replied back snarky, taking a small sip of your champagne. He murmured an agreement, turning your head to look at him and nodding your head. 

Thomas led you into a secluded hallway, leaning against the wall opposite of you and pulling out two cigarettes. He handed you one, putting his lighter in between the two of you so you could light each of your own. He sucked in a breath before speaking, the smoke fading into the air. “Mr. Kaledin is a red.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes squinting in utter confusion. “I thought we were paying the Whites?”

“Exactly. Anton, is most likely not Anton. Mr. Kaledin, who was supposed to be given the money, has most likely been killed by the Soviet government, and now their spy is pretending to be him for the cash.” He said frustratingly, leaning his head against the wall. “He told me that Duchess Tatiana Petronova will be bringing us the ten thousand U.S dollars, in crisp cash. Supposed to be from Mr. Churchill.”

“Tatiana?” You questioned. “..The niece of Duke Leon Petrovich Romanov?”

“Bingo.” He replied flatly, unenthusiastically snapping his fingers. “Including him, and his wife, Izabella.”

“Oh, how gracious.” You took a drag of your cigarette, “Did they have to leave Russia because of Stalin?”

“Yes.” He said, almost proud of you which was odd. “They’re here..to gain power. The Bolshevik’s, the Reds, have much more. They need weapons. And the new power trip the Bolshevik government has is the Red Terror.” Thomas emphasised the name with his eyes widening, his tone a little louder. “So, the Whites needed to evacuate immediately, which is why the Royals have made their way into safe haven London. Away from any communists who threaten them and their safety.” 

“So the Aristocrats need weapons to fight the reds,” You glanced at Tommy, “And Mr. Churchill is helping..us? Fight the Reds?” He hummed, studying you. “And Mr. Kaledin is part of the communist Bolsheviks?” He hummed again. “So basically, death for him. Tatiana gives us the money forwarded from Churchill. And now we are involved with the aftermath of the Russian Revolution.”

“Atta girl.” He gave you a fake smile. “With the cash we receive tonight, as I’ve told you-”

“You’re purchasing the wharves at the Boston wharfs for more business.”

He nodded, “If this all goes smoothly. I’ve told Grace, she didn’t react too badly.”

“Ah, I’m so happy for you.” You sarcastically stated, folding your arms across your chest. “Tommy, is there anything else or can I go enjoy myself a while longer?”

A long pause happened between the both of you before he nodded, “Yes. Just make sure no trouble happens, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You began to walk away, smoking the last of your cigarette. “All my luck, Tommy.”

Now, finally walking away, you sighed in relief. Not too much relief, since you knew murder and fights were going on currently and this was supposed to be a peaceful day, but some. 

You sat down on a nearby loveseat, the fire behind you sending a delightful chill up your spine as a sense of warmth took over your body. You stared at the ground, not in too much of a mood to go socialise with others, nor did you want to stand up again and walk for no reason with how sore you already were. Your free hand smoothed over your satin dress, the other holding the burnt out cigarette. You felt lost on what to do in that moment, drained over Polly and what was going on around you.

Familiar footsteps had raised your awareness as they became louder and louder the close they got. Still, you didn’t look up from the floor until you recognised the two heels that came into your vision, feeling the space next to you dip as they sat down. You gulped, feeling their tense aura immediately.

“You’ve barely spoken to me, you know.”

Polly was trying to get her mind off the whole situation and put it on another one. You. She watched your nervous demeanour as you looked up with wide eyes, as if you were clueless to what she was speaking of.

“Pardon?”

“This whole day, you’ve barely said a word to me. I’ve caught you staring, but you haven’t spoken to me.” Now your cheeks turned slightly red, heart dropping at her words. 

You cleared your throat, fiddling with your fingers. “I really didn’t think you’d even notice me with all these men.” You mumbled extremely quietly, to the point where even Polly could barely hear you. She did, studying you, her eyebrow raising at your disappointed tone and frown, and the way you couldn’t even look her way. 

Polly took a drag of her cigarette, leaning back and using her arm as a support. “Are you..jealous?”

Now, your heart really dropped. You looked at her quickly, stammering for an answer that wasn’t the truth. “Um, no. N-not at all. I just..uh..didn’t want to distract you from all the..handsome men..that were eyeing you.” When you said handsome, you felt a pang in your heart while saying it. You literally winced. 

“You’re jealous.”

“Polly. Why would I be jealous?”

“That’s my exact wonder.” she retorted, her tone carrying a hint of allurement. “‘Why would sweet, precious Y/n be jealous that I’m being eyed up?’ has been my wonder this whole evening. I can see it in your pretty eyes, sweetheart. I’m not blind.” She watched as your face get redder and redder, a satisfied smirk tugging at her scarlet lips. Her hand laid on your knee as she leaned in, “No one can lie to me, sweet girl.”

“Stop it, Polly.” You murmured, looking to the other side now, trying to cool down your fluster. “I’m not- I wasn’t- I was never jealous.”

Polly hummed, “Look me in the eye and say it.”

“Why are you so intrigued with me being jealous, Pol?” You asked mindlessly, hearing her click her tongue made you cross your legs automatically, realising what you had just said.

Polly smiled, “So the sweet girl is jealous?”

“Don’t you have like..a bunch of men to go and talk to?” You grumbled, embarrassed. Polly laughed, using her hand to make you look at her by placing it on your cheek, turning your head slightly forcefully.

“The only person I want to talk to is you.” Her smile had faltered, replaced by a solemn expression that caught your immediate attention. Gazing at Polly through weary eyes, your lips involuntarily parted as you let out a quiet sigh. You were lost at what to say, knowing nothing of what you felt was right or appropriate. You didn’t know if Polly was just trying to get it out of you with the flirtatious act, or play with your feelings. You didn’t know anything really when it came to her, all logic and standards flying out the window while in her beloved presence. She could see the hesitation and almost dread as you thought.

“I really don’t see why, Polly.” you managed, the words stumbling from your lips.

She paused, a frown gracing her features. 

Quietly observing you, she finally murmured, "What must I do to help you see why, Y/n?"

The mental anguish nearly prompted a whimper, the answer eluding you in its complexity. Succumbing to defeat, you gazed at her with vulnerable eyes.

Abruptly, a man appeared before you both, clearing his throat and offering a smile. Meeting his gaze, you reciprocate the gesture, while Polly's demeanour remains fixed in an unamused glare.

"It appears the two of you are unaccompanied... Would either of you care for a dance? Perhaps at the same time?" His wink was accompanied by an unsettling grin that made you cringe. You recognised the implication extended beyond mere dancing. "I must say, I am quite the cha-”

“We’re not interested.” Polly cut him off with an annoyed tone. “Please be kind enough to step away, as we were having a conversation.” Polly didn’t sound too kind, her glare even scaring you a bit. It was the exact one she gave the boy in the church, almost degrading. 

He scoffed, “I think the pretty one over here can answer the question for herself. Don’t you wanna dance with a man like me? You don’t need any woman sayin’ no for you, you know that.” 

A sense of fear hazed your eyes, stuttering for an answer. “It’s a no for me, I’m-”

“Now you’re just saying that for her. Come on, just one dance, princess.” He didn’t stop his offerings, so forceful that it made you want to run away. Your eyes hazed with fear as you looked over at Polly desperately for help, for which she complied. She laid her hand on your knee, clearing her throat with a devilish smile.

“Listen to me,” She began, “If you don’t leave in a matter of three seconds, I will be sure to have you cut. The Shelby men are busy enough, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind dealing with another man whore.”

The man gulped, his eyes wide. He didn’t say another word, backing away immediately and losing himself into the crowds. A melodious chuckle danced in Polly's breath, “And there he goes.”

“Thank you.” You murmured in a relieved breath. “I’m sorry for needing your help.”

“Don’t be.” Polly lit another cigarette for herself. “We women stick together. I’ll never let you get taken advantage of, Y/n. I swear.”

You smiled sadly, cocking your head to the side. “You never swear.” 

Polly glanced up at you, smoke leaving her scarlet lips. “I do now.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Oh, it’s so clear. She loves you.”

“Shut up, Ada. It can’t be. Don’t bloody enable me.” 

Hours later, you were in your bedroom again but now in comfortable clothing. You sat on your bed and Ada sat across from you, and Charlie was sleeping peacefully next to you, snug and clung to your waist.

The talk of Polly and you had come up again somehow and you had brought up the last conversation you had with Polly, and now you were here. In bed as Ada enabled the delusion of Polly ever possibly being in love with you. 

“Y/n, I have known my aunt Polly my whole life, and by what you’re telling me, she most definitely loves you.” She shoved a chocolate in her mouth, “You have to tell me what queer sex is like.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Ada!” You burned up and put your face in your hands, hearing Ada giggle. “Ada she- my god, I haven’t even thought about us being together, let alone fucking.” You looked back up at her, “She probably isn’t even attracted to me.”

Ada chewed the chocolate fully, “You’re absolutely gorgeous. You know what’s surprised me all these years?”

“Hm?”

“How Tommy hasn’t begged or tried to fuck you. I mean, look at you! He goes for a betrayer but not the one who saved his bloody life?!” Ada being fascinated with your sex life was one of the many firsts. And now she was talking of her brother in this, which had fascinated you even more. “Speaking of, have you even had sex?”

“How many drinks did you have again?” You countered, taking a chocolate and biting into it. She tilted her head, making you roll your eyes and sigh heavily. “No..it’s pathetic, I know.”

Ada shrugged, “It’s okay, Polly has lots of experience. She won’t mind being your first.” The casual statement made you groan, shaking your head from side to side.

“Ada, she-”

“Listen to me.” Ada’s voice turned firm, causing you to immediately fall silent. “I know my aunt better than bloody you, and I know that look in her eyes when she looks at you. I saw you two on that loveseat tonight, and the way she looks at you. It’s so full of…love, and adoration. I’ve never seen her more intrigued with someone except you. And, Polly isn’t blind. If I can see how flustered you get when she’s here, she most definitely can too.”

Your gaze lowered to the blankets, and you began to utter a response. "But what about all those other men?"

"They pale in comparison to you, Y/n. You're a bloody Peaky Blinder. No man can hold a candle to you." A radiant smile graced your lips as she spoke, instilling a renewed sense of self-assurance within you. She paused, her hand finding yours, offering a reassuring squeeze while flashing a supportive smile. "You'll find your way through this." She glanced sideways. "And if I'm proven right, I expect five quid."

"You Shelby lot, always so bloody confident."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Right..this..might be slightly uncomfortable.” 

The next morning found you wide awake and alert, as you received the call to discreetly transfer the previous night's earnings to the secure vault in the betting shop. Little did you realise how early it was, which left you drained and fatigued. You found yourself leaning against your dresser, on the brink of exhaustion, while Polly carefully dressed you with wads of cash, stuffing it in every crevice and secure place. You wished you were being stuffed some other w-

"You know, four years back, I could never have imagined standing here, getting dressed with three thousand United States dollars," Polly mused with a chuckle, slipping yet another bundle of cash into the belt cinched around your waist. "From nurse to gangster..a remarkable character development, eh?"

Polly hummed, her tone reflecting her amusement. "It's a drastic change. Yet, I'm truly glad to have you here with us. It's hard to picture it any other way." Handing you three stacks of bills, she added, "Now, be a good girl for me and put those into your garters." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked up at you after a beat, her fingers teasingly tracing up your leg. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer me to take care of that?"

The way your breath hitched and your eyes grew wider made Polly’s smirk grow, an ache between your thighs forming at the bold offer or..flirt. This had to be more than flirting. Her eyes stared into yours as you stammered for an answer, making it clear you had never really been flirted with.

“I’m, I- I can do it myself, t-thank you.” You took the cash from her and hiked your dress all the way up to your upper thigh, putting the cash in and dropping the fabric down. Polly chuckled before continuing to put the cash on you, watching as you finally began to compose yourself. 

Polly finally finished, the cash she was carrying already under her light blue trench coat. You both chatted some more before separating, you going to Arthur and Polly going to Tommy.

“Morning, darling.” You greeted, getting into the car.

"Morning," Arthur grumbled, his eyes following as you somewhat awkwardly manoeuvred yourself into the car, the money sticking to you and making the entry a bit more challenging than usual. His foul mood was palpable, casting a shadow that was hard to ignore.

Once he began driving, conversation flowed from your lips. "So, how did things go last night, Arthur?"

For a minute or two, he kept his silence, his gaze locked onto the road ahead. You patiently awaited his response, your gaze fixed on him. With a deep inhale, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's dead."

"I figured as much," you responded thoughtfully. "But how are you, Art? That's what I really want to know."

Again, Arthur fell into a contemplative pause, his emotions seeming to wrestle within him. Your heart ached at the sight of his obvious grief. He sighed heavily, words escaping his lips laden with vulnerability. "I... I don't feel right," he mumbled, his voice cracking. "He..he kept pleading 'for the love of God' in his final seconds, and I... I feel like I've lost the love of... God." He continued, his voice trembling, "If Linda found out, she'd probably hate me."

“Hold on," you interjected, raising a finger. "He said 'For the love of God'?"

"Twice," Arthur winced, his grip on the steering wheel betraying the emotional torment he was grappling with. "All for the sake of business..."

You didn't intend to exacerbate the situation, but Arthur's incredulous expression prompted you to speak. His gaze shifted to you as he sensed your unease. With a tense posture, you sat upright, your eyes darting around, and your hand hovering near your mouth. "What's the bloody matter?" he asked, concerned.

"It's nothing," you assured him.

"Golden, I swear to fuck, if you don’t bloody tell me-," he pressed, his gaze on the road.

"Just promise you won't get angry," you asserted, your attention remaining fixed on the road ahead. He agreed with a nod and extended his hand for a reassuring shake. You obliged, your reluctance to meet his eyes evident. You stuttered, "Um... the Bolsheviks, the Reds... they don't... believe in God." A few seconds of silence hung in the air. "And I'm not sure if Mr. Kaledin would maintain that act in his final moments."

Arthur's breathing grew heavy, and you found yourself instinctively drawing closer to the car door. "You can't get angry, Arthur! You shook on it!”

He cleared his throat, “Thank you for telling me.”

The calm appreciation wasn’t normal. You stared at him, still hugging the car door. “Golden, I really hope you fuckin’ know I’d never hurt ya’, right?”

“Um.” You said, “Yeah..yeah.” 

“None of us Shelby men would ever dare to hit ya’, and if one of them did, they’d have to deal with me.” He tapped your knee awkwardly. “And if they ain’t a Shelby, they’re dead.”

You laughed, touching the sides of your neck to see if bruises formed. They indeed did, making you wince when you even lightly touched them.

An hour later and you were back in Small Heath in front of the betting shop. You got yourself out of the car and made your way into the shop, greeting various men and shaking various hands as you tried to rush to the back as fast as you could. There, you met Polly and Thomas, and they both looked at you.

“Hi,” You softly greeted, untying your coat as you stepped into the vault. You silently started taking money out from your belt, stacking them along with the other wads of cash. “I think this was the most expensive outfit I’ve ever worn.”

“Yup.” Thomas said with a cigarette in his mouth, “I have to go to London. If you need a ride back to Warwickshire, let Arthur know.” Thomas left the vault with a nod, leaving you and Polly alone.

“I gotta tell you something when you get back. Or Arthur will let you know.” You shouted when he was on his way out, continuing putting the cash away with a shrug. He mumbled something you could barely understand in response.

“And that is?” Polly questioned, fixing her gloves.

“Nothing for you to worry of.” You quipped back, humming to yourself as you put the cash away safely.

Polly scoffed, glaring at you. You could practically feel the glare burning through you. “I have the fucking senior position in this company. I have kept this fucking business and gang alive. I’m the one who has been here much, much longer than you, sweetheart.” She stated in a gravelly voice condescendingly. You ignored her gaze, knowing superiority wasn’t your goal here. “Look at me.”

You sighed and looked at her, she smiled, leaning in while not breaking eye contact. “No one gets to refuse to tell me something. Not even you.” She whispered, “So, if I were you, darling, I’d tell me what you’re up to before I get it out of you myself.”

“It’s nothing serious, Pol-”

“I’ll give you three seconds before I do something you won’t enjoy.”

Oh.

You remained frozen, like a startled deer, when faced with the threat, choosing not to challenge her. "It seems, from the info I have gathered,  Arthur might have killed a Russian refugee instead of a Bolshevik, as we initially believed," you conceded.

Polly stared at you for a moment with a satisfied smile, clicking her tongue as she looked you up and down. “How’d you find that out?”

“Arthur spoke to me," you explained, your accent subtly surfacing. "He mentioned Anton uttering 'For the Love of God' in his final moments… Bolsheviks reject the concept of God and dismiss all religions as rubbish. They subject priests and religious followers to torture, aiming to crush any hope of salvation from the revolution. It's truly harrowing," you sighed, "but that's the Bolshevik modus operandi. Frankly, I don't believe the man from last night adhered to their ideology."

Polly processed your words as you spoke effortlessly while continuing to count the money. She drew in a breath and complimented, "You're quite clever,  you know?"

You chuckled softly, "Just fulfilling my role, Pol. Some of it's common knowledge too." You met her gaze and added, "But I appreciate your kind words."

"Understood," she murmured as you stored the final stack of cash, observing as you clapped your hands and fastened your trench coat. "Where will you be heading after this?"

"Probably back home... why do you ask?"

"No particular reason," Polly replied with a hint of amusement, playfully beginning to close the vault. You hurried out of the room, rolling your eyes at her antics before making your exit through the betting shop's door.

[ghostmoon1]

Dusted Rivalries - Chapter Six

Chapter Five | Master List | Chapter Seven

Call of Duty Fic - Task Force 141 - Cowboy AU

Summary: You trained hard to get to the dog show with Dolly, and now it is time to show how hard you trained at the dog show.

Paring: You'll find out soon :3

Words: 2,482

Warnings: Slight descriptions of anxiety

A/N: We're back!! My account got terminated due to Tumblr's spam filter, that's why this chapter isn't posted on the regular time. But I've been very busy, so I'll try and finish Comfy-Vember then more of my attention will be on this fic again, and I may post some extra things!

You could feel your heartbeat rapidly thumping, matching your quick and short breaths. You tried to wipe the sweat off your palms onto your jacket even if it was useless. Your fingers tapped on the leash in your hands, the fabric rough and used between your fingers. The arena was crowded, with whines, barks, panting, echoing, and hitting your ears. The chatter of other contestants and the judges wiped out any peacefulness and silence the arena would have once held. 

Dolly stood at your heel, her tail wagging as she barked at the other dogs that walked by and tried to pull towards them. Even for an old dog, new places excited her. 

Your eyes caught onto the judges as they took their seats with clipboards and pens, an intimidating aura surrounding them for a first-time contestant. You tried to swallow your nerves, but they kept clawing at your throat and threatening to drag you down with them. 

“Nervous lass?”

Johnny. 

You were so glad you brought them along with you. If you didn't you might be breaking into a cold sweat and dying from the nerves. Johnny was always a comforting presence, even if you hadn’t known them for too long. He was the rock you could hold onto while rapids gushed around you. 

“Yeah… very,” you mumble in response, holding onto the leash tighter until your knuckles turn white. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you watch more of the contestants walk in. Their well-groomed and well-trained dogs walked at their heels, heads held high and their tails propped up. Your mind races.

What if you didn't train Dolly enough? What if she gets too scared and tries to run off? What if you mess up? What if you forget the course? What if you can't help save the farm…?

“You and Dolly will do great lass. Don’t get yer knickers in a twist over it,” Johnny’s voice brings you back down to earth with a reassuring hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly.

“Yeah. Still can’t help the nerves. I’m sure Dolly will still do well,” you mutter, watching Dolly’s fluffy tail wag. You hope. 

“You’ll make us proud,” he says, giving your shoulder one last squeeze before letting go and looking over at Kyle and John who were speaking to one of the other contestants. Simon, is nowhere to be seen. You didn't even know if he came.

You sigh and drop the jacket off your shoulders, sitting it down on the seat and leaning down to rub Dolly’s ear, who happily accepts the attention. “Alright… ready girl?” you murmur to her and earn a happy bark in response. Although, you were asking yourself if you were ready more.

The walk down to the waiting area took an eternity, you could hear your own heartbeat over the echoing voices and dogs. Dolly’s ears perk up as music starts to softly play in the background, and the voice over the microphones starts to echo throughout the stadium. 

“Hello everyone, welcome to this year's dog show! Today, the events will be as follows; We will have the agility championships until noon, which will take up the greater part of the day…”

You start to zone out the more they speak, calling in a former champion and interviewing them as the staff makes sure everything is properly set up. 

Your heart jumps to your throat as the first contestant gets called up. “To start the show-off today, we have Charlie the Shetland Sheepdog, with handler Anthony Clarke from Norfolk, Virginia!”

You watch as the man and his smaller dog run up onto the course, standing on a platform before jumping off and heading towards the start. You hold your breath as the small dog yelps at him, then settles between his legs, its small body vibrating with excitement and adrenaline. He yells to start, and the small dog's legs move faster than you would’ve thought they could. Its tail is high in the air, approaching the first jump and leaping over it with ease. The tiny dog moved with ease and grace, leaping over each jump and running over the ramp. It sped through the tunnel and weaved through the weave poles with ease. 

You feel your heart beat faster as you watch, the anxiety clawing at the back of your throat and sending it dry. You try to swallow the nerves down again, but nothing can stop the thumping of your heart. 

The show continues, and you watch with your anxiety building as each dog flawlessly finishes the course in record times. Watching just made you wish you spent longer training. You hope she was ready for this. You jump as they take to the microphone again, and then the dreaded words come. 

“Next up, we have Dolly the Border Collie with her handler Y/N! Now, Dolly here is an old girl, but we’ll see how she holds up!” 

With a deep breath, you jog out onto the course leading Dolly up onto the platform to stand for a moment for the judges to see her. 

“Good girl… you're gonna do great,” you whisper as you pat her side, even if she couldn't fully understand you, giving her reassurance seemed to help you as well and calm your nerves.

Now, it was Dolly’s and your time to shine. Time to show the crowd what you’ve been training so hard for, putting in the hard work and hours to get here. To show them that you deserve to be here.

To save the farm.

You swiftly lead her down to the fake grass of the course, each obstacle set out precisely. The grass crunched beneath your shoes, Dolly’s paws tapping against it in excitement as she whined and begged for her leash to be taken off. You kneel next to her, slipping it over her head. “Alright girl… let's do this.”

You look up to see Johnny, Kyle and John in the crowd, each of them looking excited and hopeful. Johnny was shouting and jumping up and down, throwing a fist in the air while Kyle tried to calm him down, yelling stuff at him you couldn't quite understand. John gave you a warm smile and a nod, silently wishing you good luck.

Here was your time to shine. Dolly’s time to shine. Show them what you’ve worked for.

With a sharp whistle, Dolly places herself between your legs, kneeling down and ready to leap forward. Your eyes dart around the course, taking mental notes on the course and how you are going to approach this. 

You take a step forward, and so does Dolly. She shoots past, her paws hitting the ground with newfound determination. You run after her, every step you take sending a small shockwave of adrenaline and anxiety coursing through your body. You ran alongside Dolly, who seemed to be enjoying this much more than you were. She leapt over the first jump, landing effortlessly on the other side and sprinting towards the next jump.

“That's it! Good, next one!” you call out each command, rewarding her with words for now until you can spoil her with love and affection afterwards. Her tail was high in the air, her body agile and graceful as she leapt over the next jump. 

Her paws reached forward as she leapt over the next jump, hitting the ground on the other side and her pack paws pushing herself forward once again. Your eyes follow her with pride, maybe all that training was paying off. Maybe you could do this, maybe she could. 

Maybe the farm had hope. 

You point her towards the next obstacle, and she flies towards the ramp. Her muscles and pure determination push her up the ramp, slowing down as the ramp drops to let her run off the other side. After another jump, she sprints into the tunnel and out the other side. 

You continue to praise her and lead her through the course, your heart pounding as you near the end of the course. Dolly leaps over the next few jumps with ease, her tail bouncing as she lands and her ears perked forward. Finally, you point her towards the weaving poles where she quickly bounds between each one, her body curving around them like she was made to be doing this.  

You let out a cry in victory, kneeling down and immediately catching Dolly in your arms as she licks and pants in your face after she finishes the course. You adore her with pats and rubs, hugging her as her tail wags and wacks you in the side but you couldn't care less.

“You did it!” you cry, laughing as she licks your face, covering it in her slobber. 

The sound of the crowd cheering and clapping finally hits your ears, and the adrenaline begins to wear off. Your eyes locked with one of the judges, and you couldn't help but smile at him in pride. “We did it…” you whisper again as if you were trying to convince yourself that you really did just complete your part of the dog show, and the world didn't collapse beneath you.

You look over at the boys, who are standing and cheering, Johnny throwing his fists into the air with a massive grin plastered on his face. Kyle was having to drag him back from jumping over the fencing and sprinting towards you. Price stood up for you, clapping as he wore a proud smile on his face.

The pride swells in your chest, seeing the people who you only met not long ago but now felt close, clapping for you and your hard work, how you and Dolly had worked hard to get to this point. You sit on your heels for a moment, catching your breath from running around the course with her. 

You hope you’ve done them proud.

After leading Dolly off the course and to some seating, which you are forever grateful for after that workout, it didn't take long before you saw the boys running towards you. Well, Johnny was running, Kyle and John were trailing behind, struggling to keep up.

“That was bloody brilliant lass!” he calls, closing in on you and throwing his arms around you, squeezing whatever air you had left in your lungs out. “Yer did us so proud!”

You laugh, wrapping your arms back around him as he rocks you side to side in his excitement, letting your hands dig into the combination of fat and muscle on his back. His warmth radiated around you, making you feel even hotter and sweatier than you did before. 

“You and Dolly are an amazing team, the best we’ve seen today,” Kyle pitches in, stealing your attention away from Johnny’s bear hug for a moment. He finally releases you, letting you step back and breathe again.

“You’re just saying that,” you reply, brushing your now rumpled shirt to try and keep yourself looking semi-presentable. His deep brown eyes crinkle around the edges as he laughs in disbelief.

“No love! You were amazing, considering you only trained for maybe a week, compared to everyone else who probably works on stuff like this for a living!”

Price chuckles and agrees, letting his arms sit over his chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath. “Now, let’s see if you’ve won eh? If you save this farm, we’ll forever be in your debt.”

Johnny and Kyle nod in agreement, their eyes sparkling with excitement and pride. Kyle leans down to slip Dolly’s leash and collar back on, her paws padding across the soft ground as she trots along to the waiting area, where everyone else is sitting and waiting nervously for the winners to be announced. Dogs sat at their owner's heels, waiting and yapping as they waited. Tension hung heavy in the air, it was thick enough that you felt you could cut through the air with a knife. 

As you take a seat, you can’t help but let the nerves creep back in. Your hands feel moist with sweat once again, a bead of sweat forming along your browline. You bounced your leg in anticipation, watching as the judges across the arena spoke in hushed voices to one another, tapping their pens and every so often letting their eyes flicker over to the contestants, studying them. 

Judging them.

Judging you.

Their pens touch their clipboards, writing down the unknown. Unknown to you right now, but soon enough they’ll call out the winner, the one who gets to bring home the prize.

The whole arena goes silent as one of the judges taps their microphone, the eerie sound echoing. It was too quiet. You could hear the tick-tocking of the old clock on the wall behind you, the heavy and anxiety-riddled breaths of yourself and everyone else around you, the quiet shuffling of feet, the panting and small whines of the dogs. 

“Alright everyone, we will be announcing the winners of this year's agility championships!” the voice over the microphone echoes. You gripped your seat, your knuckles turning white as sweat pools under your thighs, sticking you to the chair. Telling you your fate. You won’t be moving from that place to pick up a trophy… you won’t win this. You weren't good enough.

You couldn't think like that. You can’t let those thoughts overwhelm you.

But what if you can’t save the farm…? What if all the hard work you put into this was for nothing? Maybe Simon was right…

John’s hand on your knee snaps you out of the thoughts that threaten to pull you under and drown you. His calloused hand was warm and rough, providing a comforting presence. He gently squeezed as his eyes remained out the front of the judges, studying them as the judges spoke. 

They began to name the winners.

“We would like to start with honourable mentions, who will be taking home our dog care baskets brought to us by our sponsors! For these, we have Jessica Mulberg with her Dalmation, Molly!”

You feel your heart clench as names begin to get called out. The crowd claps as you watch the woman and her dog head over to receive their prize, giving thanks and bowing to the crowd with a smile on her face.

“For the second honourable mention, we have Shane Newman with his Weimaraner, Lucky!”

He collects his prize as well, a proud smile on his face as he does so. He adores his dog with pats and praises, who soak up the attention like a sponge with a wagging tail.

Now for the podium. 

“Now… the winners for the agility championships, we have…” the pause drags on, making you hold your breath and grip the chair tighter as you wait. Fuck them for pausing. “In third place… we have Y/N, with her Border Collie, Dolly!”

Fuck.

[ Tag List: @sleep101 , @jooba , @daydreamsareallineed ]

[janicho88]

I Got You - Chapter 6

Pairing- Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female! Kazansky reader

Word count- 2,866

Warnings- Language, mentions of domestic violence, injuries, and abuse, abusive boyfriend, hurt reader, protective Jake. If I missed something, please let me know.

A/N- Before we get any further into this, there will be a few differences from the movie. Ice was sick, but beat it, the aviators are there for a six-week training, not three. I'm sure there are going to be Naval inaccuracies. The first few chapters will be a little heavy, but we will move past that. Thank you to @slightly-psycho-multifan for beta'ing! This is the last chapter I have finished, I'm not sure when the next one will be out.

Summary- When you have finally reached a breaking point, you call the one person you trust for help. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, but he is the person you know you’re safest with.  It’s been months since he has had so much as a text from you, but Jake Seresin would do anything for the Navy princess he met years ago.  The pilot knows she means more to him than he ever will to her, but he will do anything for her.

Series Masterlist

“Hangman, open up!”  The yelling continues, as the man now alternates between knocking and ringing the doorbell. 

Jake makes sure you are out of sight before opening up.  “What can I do for you Maverick?”

When the door finally opens, Mav is pushing his way inside past Jake.  “We need to talk about your behavior today.  That was completely unacceptable. The Navy isn’t going to tolerate it, and neither will I.  This mission is going to require intense training, and you aren’t going to get that if you keep getting yourself grounded like today. You can’t just come strolling into a briefing late, or sleep through hops going on.  Even you could learn a thing or two. One more screw up and Cyclone is going to send your ass packing.”

Standing in the kitchen, your worry over who is at the door starts to fade a little when you recognize the voice currently yelling at Jake.  Quietly moving to peek around the doorway you see your Godfather standing in Jake’s living room berating him.  It takes a moment for you to realize that your friend got in trouble on base today.  You let out a gasp when it slowly sinks in that it was because of you. Forgetting where you are, you are frozen in place as the guilt hits you.  Everything Jake did for you last night, and in less than 24 hours you are already causing him trouble. 

Hearing your gasp, Jake looks away from Maverick and sees you standing in the doorway.  Problem is, so does Maverick. 

When Maverick turns around and sees his Goddaughter standing there with bruises on her face and neck he sees red.  Ice had confided in him that he was worried about his only daughter. Without another thought he charges at the taller pilot in front of him.  Jake is looking at you so he’s caught off guard, giving Maverick the upper hand.  Holding an arm across Hangman’s throat, he pushes the younger pilot up against the wall.  

“You son of a bitch.  Do you really think you’re going to get away with this?  One phone call to Ice and he will have your ass court martialed faster than you can blink.”

Jake isn’t really listening to the man in front of him, his focus is on you still in the doorway.  He saw fear fill your face as soon as the Captain shoved him against the wall.  “You’re scaring her,” he tells the other man.

“I’m scaring her, I’m not the one who gave her those bruises,” Maverick retorts.

Jake’s had enough, getting his arms in between himself and Maverick, he pushes the older aviator off of him.  “Neither I’m I,” he spits out as he carefully walks toward you.

“Don’t you dare go near her,” Maverick yells as he tries to steady himself. 

The younger aviator ignores him, his focus just on you.  “It’s alright Darlin’ I promise. You’re safe, I’m safe.”  Jake speaks calmly as he slowly walks toward you with his hands out in front of him.  

Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you throw yourself into his arms as soon as he is close enough.  You wrap your arms around him, and that is when Maverick sees the cast peeking out from the sleeve of Jake’s sweatshirt you're wearing.

Jake is careful as he wraps his own arms around you.  He doesn’t want to aggravate any of your bruises, he can feel you shaking in his arms.  “It’s alright, I’ve got you princess, it’s okay,”  he keeps repeating that over and over to you as he slowly starts to rub your back.

When he no longer feels you shaking, and notices your breathing has calmed down, Jake slowly pulls back to look at you.  “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, thanks.”  You might be slightly calmer, but you don’t make any attempt to pull away from Jake. 

“Someone better explain what the hell is going on here.”  Maverick has been watching the scene in front of him, glaring daggers at Hangman.  But even he can tell something isn’t adding up with his initial thoughts.

The man holding you looks at Maverick over his shoulder before turning back to you. “It’s up to you, you don’t have to tell anybody anything.”

“Watch it Lieutenant, you’re in enough trouble,” Maverick harshly remarks.

That brings you back to why you were looking out here to begin with, you got Jake in trouble.  Looking up at Jake with worry in your eyes you ask, “did I get you in trouble today?”

“No, not at all.  I just forgot to set my alarm before we went to sleep so I was a few minutes late.”

“You went to bed later than usual, because I interfered with your sleep.”

“I should be used to some shorter nights.  We don’t always get a full night on deployments, or when we have special training on base.”

“But if I hadn’t called you…”

Jake interrupts you, “Nope nope nope, I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t called.  There is no telling what that asshole would have done when he came back today.  You being safe is worth everything that happened to me today.”

“I’m sorry,” you try to apologize again, but he stops you with a finger over your mouth.  You feel awful for causing him trouble.  Josh is right, you aren’t good for anything.

Jake carefully wipes the tears you can’t stop off of your face.  “Don’t be, it’s okay.  Even if I knew what would happen today, I would do it all over again.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” Maverick interrupts. 

Looking around Jake you sneak a peek at your Godfather, you swallow down a sob as you hide your head back in Jake’s chest.  Uncle Mav is going to think you’re so stupid.  Jake holds you to him, as he keeps rubbing your back.  “I can make him leave if you want,” he whispers to you.  

You know he would, but that would mean more trouble for Jake. Shaking your head you step back, but grab Jake’s hand with your good one before moving over to the couch.  You sit down in the corner and Jake takes the spot right next to you, never letting go of your hand.  

Maverick stands behind the chair gripping the back of it, mind full of worry at the look of his honorary niece and Goddaughter.  He’s the first one to break the silence, “I thought your dad told me you were in LA?  When did you come back here?” “Last night.”

“Who hurt you?”

“Josh,” you finally mumble.

“Is he here?” Maverick wants to know, haunches immediately rising. 

You just give a small shake of your head.

“Can you tell me what happened?  How did you get here?”

Closing your eyes, you take a shaky breath.  This is where he tells you how stupid you are for letting this happen.  You aren’t sure you can handle this yet.  You look over at Jake, and he understands your silent plea.

“I don’t know what exactly happened yet, Y/N will tell that story when she’s ready.  I got a call last night when I was at the Hard Deck.  It was Y/N, she said she needed help.  I drove up to LA to get her.  The SOB wasn’t there when I arrived at their apartment.  We got her stuff out of there and left.  Stopped at a hospital in Santa Ana on the way back home.  He broke her wrist, bruised ribs, and gave her a concussion along with the other bruises.  That reminds me,” he looks over at the clock, “it’s too late today, but we need to find you an orthopedic doctor for your wrist.”

“What happened to him?” Maverick cuts in.

Jake looks at you, seeing you stare at the floor he answers again.  “He never came back while I was there.  The cops got involved in the hospital.  At first they thought I was responsible, when that was cleared up I gave them their home address, but it’s not their jurisdiction so I’m not sure how much good that will do.” 

“Ice will know who to talk to to get this taken care of.”

“No,” you scream as loud as your sore throat will let you.

Maverick turns to look at you in confusion. “No what?”

“She doesn’t want her parents to know right now.  She doesn’t even want them to know she’s here yet,”  Jake answers for her.

“Why not?”

“Please, Uncle Mav, please don’t tell them I’m here,” you plead with your Godfather without answering his question.

The older pilot looks up at the ceiling and sighs before moving to sit in the chair in front of him.  

“Please, please don’t tell him. “

“For now, I won’t say anything.  But I don’t like keeping things from your dad,” he tells you with a sigh.

“That’s because he’s the one to get you out of trouble.”

“Glad to see you haven’t lost all your sass.”  He turns to look at Jake now, who is occupied watching you.  Maybe he misjudged the man in front of him. 

“We start working on the course for this mission tomorrow.  It’s supposed to be one hop per pilot for the next few days.  Stay back when the others are gone, I’ll see about getting you up to work on dogfighting in the afternoon to make up for missing both flights today,” Maverick tells Jake as he stands up.  The younger pilot understands it’s his Captain's way of saying he supports what he did, and he is no longer in trouble with him.

“Yes, sir.”

 “Little Kaz, if you need anything, you can always call me.  Love you kid.  Hangman, walk me out.” Maverick gives you a careful hug as you stand from the couch, then follows Jake to the door.  He turns to the younger pilot when both men are on the front porch, he waits for Hangman to shut it before speaking.  “How bad?”

Jake doesn’t need an explanation for what he’s asking.  “The bruises are worse today than when I got there yesterday.  Her throat is pretty sore, I can tell from the bruises he tried to choke her.   We need to make an appointment with an ortho for her wrist, she says everything hurts right now.  She hasn’t had her pain meds like she should.  I planned to drop her prescriptions off to be filled  and grab her food at lunch, then bring them right home when we got out.  That plan got a little waylaid.” 

He pauses glaring at Maverick, the older pilot slightly winces before Hangman continues.

“Hopefully the medicine has started to kick in for her now.  She’s definitely skittish right now.  You could see the fear in her eyes when you were pounding on the door.  I took the battery out of her phone for now, I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to have some kind of tracker on there.”

Pulling out his own phone he shows Mav the pictures of your apartment he took the night before, with the broken glass and blood.  “She hasn’t talked about it much, I don’t know how the mirror was broken, but I’d bet that’s her blood.  She has cuts on the arm with her broken wrist.”

Swearing under his breath, Maverick closes his eyes and starts to pace the small porch.  He’d really like to hop on his bike and drive up to LA and find the asshole, give him a taste of his own medicine, but he knows he can’t.  How is he supposed to keep this from Ice?  Stopping his pacing, he turns to the younger pilot.

“If she needs anything let me know.  I don’t like not telling Tom and Sarah about this, but I won’t for now.”

“Thank you,” Jake replies.

“Keep her safe, Seresin.”

“I will.”

Picking up his helmet from the porch, Maverick is taking off, and Jake heads back inside.  Once the door is locked back up, he turns around seeing you watching him intently on the couch.

“Do you think he’s going straight to my dad?” you ask in a near whisper.

“He said he’d keep it to himself for now.”  Jake looks you over, biting down on his bottom lip.  “Darlin’ can I ask you something?”

You nod, just knowing he is probably going to ask you to find somewhere else to stay.  You’ve been here less than a day and you’re already causing problems.

“Why don’t you want to tell your parents?  Mav is right, your dad could be a big help with Josh.”

You don’t answer right away, when you do start talking it’s directed at the coffee table in front of you.  “Dad’s the Commander of the Pacific Fleet, he’s not stupid, neither is my mom. They would be so ashamed of me if they knew I stayed with Josh after everything he did.  They kept telling me there was something about him they didn’t trust.  It was too late to leave when I finally realized what they meant. I should have listened to them.”

When you start crying, Jake sits down beside you and carefully pulls you into his arms.  Once again doing all he can to calm you down.  “Princess, they aren’t going to be ashamed.  They’re going to be pissed, but not at you, at that worthless excuse of a man.  I won’t make you tell them if you aren’t ready.”

Once the tears finally stop, Jake pulls back and gently wipes your face.  “How about we go up to bed?  I think we both could use the sleep.”

“Okay.”  

Jake leads you to the kitchen first for some pain medicine and a glass of water to take upstairs.  You follow him up the steps, but he pauses in the hallway.

“I completely forgot to get some other sheets for that bed today.”  He turns to look at you, “you can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You think of how safe you felt last night in bed, and you know that was only because Jake was next to you.  “You need the sleep more than I do, we could share again?”  you quietly suggest.

“I don’t want to crowd you, we need to be careful of your injuries.”

“You won’t hurt me.  After Uncle Mav came over like that, and Penny earlier.  I know they don’t mean any harm, I just would feel better if you were close…”  Trailing off you look away from Jake so he won’t see the blush creeping up.

He gently cups your chin to lift your face to look at him.  “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.  Anything you need Darlin’.”  He doesn’t want to worry you more tonight, but he knows he’ll have to tell you soon that Penny is also aware you’re staying here.

The two of you take turns in the bathroom.  You once again put on Jake’s shirt and shorts.  Unpacking wasn’t high on your list today, plus you weren’t sure where you could put anything.  At least that was the excuse you were giving yourself wearing his clothes, it wasn’t because you liked being wrapped up in Jake’s scent.  Nope, not at all. 

Jake was the first to fall asleep.  When you hear his breathing even out, you carefully move a little bit closer to his side, before drifting off yourself.

A few hours north in Los Angeles, Josh is finally returning to your once shared apartment.  The door slams behind the man as he enters the quiet home.  “I don’t smell dinner cooking! Why is that you lazy little bitch!  I thought you would have learned after last night to do what I tell you.”  He calls out, walking first to the kitchen.  Nothing is out, and it doesn’t look like you have even started making his dinner yet.  His anger is quickly rising as he makes his way to the bedroom looking for you.

“Since you haven’t made my dinner, your worthless ass had better have at least cleaned up the mess you made me make in here,” he yells as he opens the bedroom door.  Seeing the pieces of glass still all over the floor and the things from his dresser around the floor, your ex sees red.  He searches for you in the bathroom and around the apartment, but comes up empty.  He is too angry to notice your missing items right now. 

Back in the living room, he whips out his phone and calls the hospital.  He didn’t think you’d try and go there again after the last time.  Someone had dared to question him when he showed up to collect you.  You were warned about how bad things would be if you ever tried to go back.  Looks like he is going to have to remind you when he gets you back home.

The cell phone goes flying across the room when the third med station he calls hangs up.  The hospital has denied you were there, and so have the three med stations.  Where the hell did you disappear to?

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 7

IGY Tags

@dempy @fox-bee926 @acarboni21 @novagreen04 @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @bethbunnyy @senjoritanana @abaker74 @mygyn @lynnevanss @m-rae23 @djs8891 @supraveng @loving-and-dreaming @mayhemmanaged @kajjaka @delightfulheroshoeflap @imaginecrushes @donna-lynn  @rosiahills22 @mavrellover91 @emma8895eb @alittlebitofjennasea

[ghostlyboysstories]

Some extra information about my ocs on my current WIP:

Roan Hanes was 21 when he died. He hates alcohol. Can’t stand looking at it or smelling it. That’s due to his past family and growing up around alcohol all the time made him hate the substance. He had three younger siblings, two brothers and one sister, and he lived with his father for the first eight years of his life.

His father was a good man and was often hiding Roan away whenever his mother came to visit. She thought Roan had died after childbirth, and was in relief because she was really young. Her family didn’t approve of the relationship between Roan’s mother and father, so naturally, his father thought it best to raise him on his own, away from the prying eyes of his ex wife’s family.

Roan’s mother was a good person, though her rage was what scared him the most. She would often throw things around and shatter plates. Roan knew she didn’t mean to scare or hurt him or his siblings, but that’s exactly what she did. She would often snap out of her anger, be it an hour or six, and would rush to him, apologizing for everything she had done.

His father died when he was nine and he went to live with his mother full time. Not understanding what had happened since he was young at the time, Roan tried to go to his mother to find comfort in her, but most of the time, she just shoved him away.

“You look so much like him,” she’d say.

It wasn’t until he was twelve that he finally understood. Roan lost himself into taking care of his younger siblings. Getting them ready for school, taking them to the local park, getting them ice cream on the scorching days in the summer, and running errands with them. His mother’s mental stability had declined over the years, so he sought out to work a part time job when he was fifteen. At this point in time, Roan had barely seen his mother leave her room. He would leave food out for her and a glass of water at all meal times. He had to drop out of public school just to make sure she was getting what she needed.

He would get occasional notes, written in shaky handwriting, “Thank you, my sweet boy. I’m sorry,” but other than that, Roan didn’t talk to his mother. He always wrote to her, telling her about everything that happened every day(“The twins pranked their teachers today. Swapped places on them right under their noses!”), and held onto the hope that one day, she’d be able to leave her room.

His death will be revealed in a later snippet because I have to have some element of surprise here!

Arrow Millon is a private investigator for the local police department. They started doing their work for the Hanes Family case in the family’s backyard, hoping that maybe they’d be able to understand what happened more if they were at the victims’ place of residence.

They ended up buying the house. It was abandoned and worn down, and everyone was too afraid to go in, much less live there. Arrow was nineteen when they started working on the case, the police department thought a rookie like them could handle it, and now twenty two at the time they(accidentally) summon Roan after taking a chance and talking to the dead through a ouija board they found hidden under a floorboard in the old work shed; Arrow is surprised to actually see Roan for the first time. Roan says their connected to each other in the mortal realm, and Arrow assumes it’s because they’ve worked on his family’s case for so long, but that’s not the case(surprise hehehe) and sort of forgets about it.

You’ll have to see when Arrow finally connects the dots for yourself hehehe >:3

They don’t really talk about their family and Roan suspects they didn’t accept them like his grandparents didn’t approve of him. He’s both right and wrong.

Arrow is also super snarky whilst Roan is like “you need to drink water,” “made you something since you’ve been working late,” “want some coffee?” Type of guy. Acts of service to show his appreciation for Arrow. Arrow secretly has a journal of poems dedicated to Roan because he’s the first person to stick around them(“and he’s dead. how do I manage to make friends with a dead guy?”), and he likes to write about the people he cares about.

The tags(thank you so much for showing interest in my writing! y’all are amazing!): @the-ellia-west @somethingclevermahogony @illarian-rambling @sabewebb @rorimoon9597 @diabolical-blue

[kalevalakryze]

Yhe'na Det Och'sa

Chapter Four: Oneh Marukki

Summary: The crystal is the heart of the blade.The heart is the crystal of the Jedi.The Jedi is the crystal of the Force.The Force is the blade of the heart.All are intwined: the crystal, the blade, and the Jedi. We are one. Ahsoka Tano wished none of her experiences on anyone, but the galaxy was only growing more dangerous. The Empire is closing in, and there's only so many ways she can teach Shin to defend themselves. Now, three years after Shin joins the Fulcrum crew, it's time to teach her to create her own saber. If she can get past her Gathering on a hostile planet, crawling with Imperial mining operations. AO3 Link: Here! Word Count: 7,708 Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Notes: Don't forget all the art posted in this AU to this point is all thanks to the wonderful and amazing @somewillwin !

The morning of her gathering, Ahsoka had sat Shin down and laid out every detail over breakfast, much to Huyang’s chagrin, “The Empire has its clutches on this planet… are you sure your crystal is down there?”

Swallowing around a mouthful of sugary cereal, Shin nodded their head quickly. “Yeah, I’m sure.. It’s down there,” Ahsoka cast a worried gaze back to the war table, red dots speckled across the hologram, marking Imperial ships in the atmosphere, and several troop movements on the surface.

“Once you’re in the planet’s core, I can’t help you,”  Ahsoka warned, treading carefully; She didn’t want to scare Shin, but she also needed them to understand the dangers they would be heading into. Imperial starships surrounded the planets atmosphere, with transport ships moving to and from the surface, delivering materials and transporting troopers and miners back down.

“Approaching Vessel, hold position,” A deadpan voice rang over the speakers in the T-6’s cockpit. Huyang’s chair creaked as he moved to strengthen their cloaking signal. “The Ilum system has been blockaded, you are not permitted travel.” 

“This is three-three-seven-six, detachment eighty four of the Imperial Asteroid mining crew, we’ve been tasked with sector seven cresh below the surface of Ilum. Please advise with further instruction.” Ahsoka answered carefully into the communicator, passing along small echoes of a force suggestion through the weakened link. 

There was silence on the other end, and a small hand reached forward to take Ahsoka’s into their own, as a Star Destroyer slowly shifted in its place, further opening the gap that would give them room to pass. “Detachment eighty four, you are cleared to land on the surface. Report to your supervisory detail upon departure and detail your lack of efficiency in sending your codes immediately.”

“Yes sir,” The comms went silent as Ahsoka donned her hood and pushed the shuttle forward, thrusters catching as they entered the first wave of the planet’s gravitational pull. 

“Well that was certainly lucky!” Huyang exclaimed rather loudly in the heavy silence of the ship as the frozen planets surface came into view, snow pelting the transparisteel as they descended. 

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” The Togruta answered, suddenly solemn as she watched the planet. The Force, normally brimming with power, potential… greatness, and love was void of it all, like the Kyber was being removed from the planets core. But what for? Ahsoka could not even begin to fathom why the Imperials would need Kyber, they’d killed the Jedi, and many of the inquisitors relied on the Kyber of those they’d killed to bleed and wield against the people that the crystal had once been in service to protect. 

“Meht?” Shin questioned as she slid from the seat behind Huyang. Blue eyes brightened minimally when they turned to the brunette with white markings painted on their face, offering the love and compassion, the tether they knew Ahsoka needed so badly in this moment. The Togruta gathered up the small human into her arms, tucking them close into her lap as they approached a secluding landing pad. “Will you be okay?” Shin questioned, forehead pressing against the soft leathery feeling of her lek. “Yes, I’ll be alright, tazi unt. Thank you,” Warm lips pressed to the corner of a marking on their head. “Now let’s get you bundled up so you don’t freeze out there.”

Huyang set the ship down and worked on deploying their cloaking systems to work on the ground as Ahsoka helped Shin into the bundles of different layers to keep them warm, pulling a wool cap over their head to finish the job. “Meht, I can’t move,” Shin’s voice was muffled from all the layers, and Ahsoka couldn’t help but chuckle warmly at the sight of the lanky child in puffed up layers.

“Alright, alright here,” Enough layers were removed so the child could move properly, much to Ahsoka’s chagrin. “Do you remember what we’ve been practicing with the Force? How to keep yourself warm?” “Of course,” Their head nodded as a beaming smile tugged at lips, already chapped from the cool air making it past the filters. 

Ahsoka turned away from Shin by the door to double check the small leather bag she’d prepared the night before. “This should contain enough supplies to give you a few days if anything is to happen. We’ll need radio silence across comms and the Force, I can’t be certain that they won’t have radar running to pick up on comm signals, and… I’d rather not think of them having personnel that could sense the Force, either. 

“Yes, Master,” Shin took the provided satchel, tucking it carefully against their chest and using hooks in their outermost jacket to stop it from swinging wildly. “It’ll be just like we practiced, I’m sure of it,” She tried to ease some of Ahsoka’s anxieties as she secured a cortosis lined blade into a small holster along the inside of their calf. “Do not get too headstrong, Daaark grut. Impatience for victory will only show you how quickly the tides can turn to defeat,” Her fingers brushed over the warm cap on their head. “Be safe out there, and trust in the Force, little one.” Ahsoka moved so she could kneel before her youngling, taking their hands in her own as she retrieved her shoto from beneath her robes. “And don’t forget, I will be needing this back,” Homage to their first meeting, when she’d promised a sickly child that their salvation was far from some cruel trick. 

Small arms wrapped around her middle as Shin threw themselves at her, earning a warm laugh and a warmer hug in return for their efforts. “I will, Meht,” They grumbled into her stomach as she patted their head. 

“Lady Tano, we will need to move continuously to avoid Imperial Scanners, there are readings of Probe droids keeping near constant surveillance.” Huyang butted in from the cockpit, yellowed eyes focused on Master and Apprentice before him. 

“Thank you, Huyang. Any parting words?” She tucked Shin up under her arm and turned them both to face the suddenly apprehensive professor. 

“Come back safe, young Tano,” His eyes flickered in dim light, a feeling of somber recognition flooding his circuits. 

“I will, Huyang, thank you- You two stay together,” Then, quieter. “Someone needs to look after ‘soka till I get back,” This seemed to lift the old droids spirits as Ahsoka laughed and led them towards the lowering ramp. 

“Go on, get,” A gentle shove to their shoulder had the chuckling pre-teen shuffling down the ramp and into the cold. 

Shin was no stranger to sneaking around Imperial troops, except this time, there was something to lose. It had been years now, with Ahsoka and Huyang at their back, offering unending support and wisdom; She couldn’t let them down, this was their first operation alone, and if they were caught, there was always a sinking chance that the Empire could trace her back to the Fulcrum crew, especially with the paint carefully etched into their skin. 

She could hear the chatter just up ahead, a fire crackling and snow melted around the camp. The snowflakes didn’t fall as heavy here, so the young Initiate had to take longer strides to walk carefully in the footprints made by white plastoid covered troopers. 

“Did you hear they’re bringing more miners in?” A trooper began, vocoder crackling and old, despite the fact that Shin had noticed a transport full of newer armor being sent to the surface.

“It’s none of your concern, clone. The nearby officer spat. Even Shin winced in empathic anger at the way the soldier was addressed by his superior, though the trooper simply sighed and returned to the metal tin of caf he’d been warming over the fires. 

Shin’s boot stumbled in a patch of hardened snow, sinking them further than they were meant to go and causing a stumble. The brunette froze, just on the outskirts of the camp. The trooper was quick to pick up on the stumble, and yet, as a black, empty visor faced her, Shin did not feel the void Ahsoka had described the ‘clones’ as taking on towards the end of the war; They’d felt the warmth individual history of a man who’d once donned armor in brilliant teals and greens. 

Their eyes met through the helmet, though his hands did not itch towards his blaster once. “Commander, I’m going to begin my patrol early, just in case there’s any Rebels lurking about,” The trooper stood on aching joints; It was clear he was much older than his comrades, bundled inside of their tents on breaks. 

Their head jerked towards Shin, urging them onwards as he began his patrol, boots crunching in the snow and effectively covering their blunder as they scurrifed throught the blssedly empty cavern entrance. 

Pausing at the entrance, Shin’s head turned back. “May the force be with you,” They spoke into the silence, a sentiment that they had yet to understand the full extent of, but had seen psased beyond the Rebel leaders so often, it had become a second-nature to them. 

Progress was painfully slow as they slunk into the ruined caverns.. There were no maps for the labyrinth of icy tunnels, infested with Imperials that should have never been able to lay eyes on the ancient planet’s resource, much less mine it by the ton. 

Sticking to the shadows and following the pulsing thrum of the Force, Shin had done their best to avoid as many Imperial patrols as possible, though, as they crawled from a small access tunnel carved away for PIT droids, Shin found herself in a dangerous positon. Three troopers surrounded a water well in a near triangle, each seemng to be staring down separate crystalline corridors. 

“Ever think you’d get stuck guarding water?” A stormtrooper complained. “There’s no one here,”

“Quiet down, TK-Eight-Two-Four.” Another snapped, clearly an overheated hotshot, the leader of this poorly assembled squad. “These rebels are sneaky, if you are too confident, you could find yourself-” The force pushed against the hotshot, making it seem as if he’d stumbled in his uppity stupor. 

The other two stormtroopers were quick enough to stop what would have been a fatal stumble into the well below, and in the commotion, Shin was able to slink back, warmed by the cackling laughter from the trooper that had been snapped at. 

The cold seeped through their coat, though they found themselves adjusting rather quickly to the darkness that greeted them in untouched passages and enormous caverns. Their beath came out in misty puffs, dissipating in the air shortly after passing parched lips. “I can feel you,” The young apprentice whispered into the darkness, boots crunching to the stop in a cavern. 

The floor should have been unsteady, but with a few test taps, the child decided it was safe enough to walk further, to follow the siren song of the crystal that had been hers since its formation. 

A hum thrummed deep in the cavern, almost as if the world, the Force around her was breathing in beat with her own hammering lungs. The preteen lowered to their knees slowly- “You want me to go down there?” She whispered to the unresponsive world around her. There was a moments hesitation as Shin reached for the ground, feeling the sudden tension in the force like shockwaves up the length of each arm.

Her gloves were removed and stowed in the pack quickly, allowing the cold to bite at pale fingers and color the pink as she felt for the thread of connection that was attempting to reach out to her. “Show yourself… it’s alright… I won’t hurt you.” The youngling promised carefully. 

The closer their fingers got to the thick casing of ice below them, the closer her crystal death, the louder the tepid waters below roared, and the more intense her heart seemed to soar… so close!

The brush of her fingers against the ice sent her spiralling, though, noticeably; Shin was not greeted by the frozen water below. Instead, they were… stuck. Thousands of images slipped through her fingers, like a holovid sped up faster than any living creature could comprehend. 

Sorting through the distorted images of the thousands that had come before her, their voices muddled together in the echos of the force, voices that she could hear in Ahsoka's stories, to names she'd never spoken. "Your journey will not be free of trials and tribulations, little Tano," When they looked into the ice again, she could make out the shadows of a face. 

A Kedlorian with a breathing apparatus secured to his face. He seemed kind and familiar in a way Shin could not know. "But it is the will of the force that finds you here today, like it was the Force's will that your Mother found you on Ibaar." They bristled under the word choice, cheeks heating and making white paint stand out starkly on their face. 

A ripple in the force distorted the image. It felt... wrong. Like someone who had passed only in spirit, and was clinging onto the remains of physical life wrong. Still, the distorted presence beamed in it's hallowed glory, putting the youngling somewhat at ease. "You've gotta keep Snips safe for me, alright? Tell her she was right about me." 

But Shin could not focus on this long dead Jedi's words, the sound of splintering ice tried to shove her back into her own body once more, and from the view of someone not there, Shin could see herself from their eyes, and watched, unable to move, as deep cracks began to spiderweb across the floor. 

The Imperial drills were boring down on the planet, and the old Knight's presence seemed to destabalize whatever Light remained in the section. They found themselves back in their own body in a flash, in the same wrong words of this Jedi Knight. “Ahsoka, I would never let anyone hurt you… ever.”

In the last look they could gleam of the ice before it shattered, she saw yellowed eyes and burnt skin. When the ground broke, it was to the sound of deep, mechanical breathing and the sound of Ahsoka's voice, drenched in pain. "Anakin... I won't leave you... Not this time." 

“Then you will die.”

The water was cold as it enveloped Shin, shocking their small body as they struggled to find the surface, watching as dim lights grew darker the further they sank. The roar of water in their ears was drowned out by the sounds of the force, things they had no hopes of understanding. "I am the Sith!" "I am No Jedi. "Somehow, Palpatine survived. "You won't help?" "It seems the Padawan needs one more lesson." “The order is gone. The Dark Side Is About Survival. "I can help you..." Impatience for victory will guarantee defeat."

Their fingers brushed the surface of the water, yet they did not emerge in the caves. Instead, they felt themselves standing planetside, long grass tickling heavy metal armor bracketing  her knees. Her body felt too big, the armor weighed too much, and there was a nagging darkness in their mind. "We've been looking for this." She heard herself say, voice raspy like she'd been without water for days. The weight of a ball settled in her palm, though her body moved without consent to hand it off to a spindely droid built for combat  as a woman with purple hair approached apprehensively.

"What happened to you?" They voiced, golden eyes squinting as a green saber was ignited against them. Fear filled Shin's veins as a saber ignited in her own hand, scarlett light casting across the battlefield. Shock and horror ignited in her opponents eyes, but before they could focus, or.. Find out why… what, the scene changed. 

"I'm sorry," Wrong Shin whispered as the blade sunk into the soft skin of the womans' stomach, spires of their saber stopping just at the singed flesh that the red... orange? beam of plasma was tearing into. 

The image shifted again, this time, filling them with adrenaline. Bodies dropped smoothly with each swing of her blade, red plasma tearing through flesh as she took lives without a second thought. Behind them, they could hear heavy footsteps, could feel encouragement through a bond that felt wrong to the child's head. "Please!" A woman begged. With difficulty, Shin could feel their hand clenching tight around the air, the Force bent to their will, choking the life from the woman as she begged and writhed, hot tears streaking down her face until she was no more. 

It shifted once more, this time, to Ahsoka standing in front of them. This one, Shin thought, hurt most of all. "Surrender your weapon." She called to them, reaching across a chasm that felt too big. “Meht, what is going on?” She begged to ask, though her vocal chords would not respond as pain, anger, disappointment, and embarrassment burned their way up her throat, causing her lip to quiver and eyes to swing. How could it be like this, when just this morning, the child had sunk into their mother's arms with safety and love? How could Ahsoka look at her with pain and trepidation, regret and hope for someone better? What was she to become? 

A killer. Plain and simple. Her destiny was not to save others, like Ahsoka had. She was birthed onto this planet to further the story, to make the heroes rise. She was doomed for failure, but... she could be greater. All she had to do was give in... All she had to do was take the power that was being offered. They would never have to ask for help if they just-

A change in the narrative, the feeling of soft hands stroking against unfamiliarly scarred knuckles. Colorful starbirds and painted armor, whispers in Mando'a, the love of a mother. Leia's laughter that came when Shin asked questions the Princess found amusing. The promise of the Keldorian, Ahsoka's soft ‘tazi unt’ when she thought Shin wasn't listening. The feel of someone's forehead pressing against their own. The wet nose of an animal in her hand, seeking love and attention. "I've got to save you..." A boy called to a man, wrapped in the shell of a monster. "You already have..." The man behind the mask rasped, a man unredeemable by nature, but still found the light in the unstoppable nature of love. 

The surface of water broke. Wet fingers scrambled at the snowy expanse of solid ground. Several sets of hands tugged and pulled at her, helping her from the murky depths, grabbing at her arms and helping to haul a sopping, weighted down body into a soft pile of snow on the bank. When they had finally blinked water from their eyes, there was no one around, no footsteps in the snow, and surprisingly, even the drag of their feet to the pile seemed to be gone. 

From the corner of her eyes, a twinkle caught her vision, blue and shining, calling for her like meeting an old friend. Huyang had told her what to expect, when she found her crystal. The feeling of coming home wrapping around her, even as cold settled into her bones. The kyber was warm, even through her glove, as she carefully broke it from its icy spire. "It's you," She whispered to the object, teeth chattering as she tucked it close to her heart, just next to where Ahsoka's shoto sat concealed in the depths of the puffed jacket. The aged kyber sung out to Shin's as the cool metal touched the jagged kyber. It was warm and safe, free of harm from the Imperials. She could not save the rest of the kyber, and, with a rumble of the cavern around them, it was clear that they were not meant to. 

"I'm sorry," She called to the crystals that would not be found by Jedi. Crystals whose owners were already gone, trapped in the depths of the Dark, or those who had taken their place among the waves of the cosmic force all too soon. When the child turned from them, a shiver ran up her spine, one last message. The sound of a… laser activating in something huge, the sounds of rock and tectonic plates being torn to shreds. “I’m sorry… It’s just me,” They called, refusing to look back; they couldn’t look back, not when they felt the yellowed eyes of the monster staring into her back. 

The ramp was covered in snow and ice upon their return. Worn boots scrambled against the slippery surfaces as they struggled to the promise of warmth. A warm blue crystal kept their exhausted legs moving, heated even through the thick, damp gloves that were only useful for keeping the wind from cutting into near frost-bitten fingers. 

Their shoulder hit the durasteel door before the hydraulics could engage, creating a loud thump that echoed through the ship and their own body. When it finally opened, snow and cold air drifted into the warm and inviting space within. Home.

“ ‘did it,” The brunette remarked, proudly, extending their gloved hand towards the wide-eyed Togruta that was rising from her seat. 

“Shin, oh my makers-” Orange arms wrapped tight around them before the ground could catch them, Shin couldn’t help the way they selfishly sank further into the embrace as Ahsoka pulled them into the ship and let the door slam shut. 

“I did it,” They repeated proudly as Ahsoka carried them to the benches, only motioning at Huyang as he emerged from his workshop. 

“You did, tazi unt, I’m so proud of you,” Warm fingers danced down their face, warming the frozen streaks of paint where they cracked against small cheeks. “So proud… But why are you wet?” 

“Think I’m just cold, went swimming a few days ago, when I got it,” They replied sleepily, snuggling back into the blanket that hung onto the back of the couch, still warm from where Ahsoka had been using it to stave off the chill from her own shoulders. When silver eyes opened to meet lively blue, she couldn’t tell if the shock on her mother’s face was one of amusement, horror, or that they’d impressed her, with the way facial markings furrowed and dark lips parted until the artificial lights caught the white flash of fangs. 

“Gotal’ade,” She remarked instead, shaking her head as she worked to help Shin change into clothes that weren’t melting icicles into the fabric she’d put down to make the seats more comfortable. By the time Huyang returned, Ahsoka had Shin where they belonged, tucked safely up under her arm, dozing quietly as they turned the blue tinted kyber around in fingers that still shook from the cold. 

“Little Tano,” He greeted as two steaming bowls were placed in front of his sentient charges. Yellow lighted eyes dropped to the crystal in their hand, causing his head to turn. “You’ve found it.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” The Padawan snipped, shifting their weight on the bench so they were sitting on their knees to lean over the table and busy themselves with warm food.

Two sets of eyes watched Shin increadously, one, with white facial markings arched high, and the other slowly turning to look at the girl’s Master. For a droid who could not express emotion, the smugness that radiated off of him was almost enough to have the Togruta breaking out into laughter. 

“You know,” Huyang started as spoons scraped at the bottoms of bowls and his sentients were beginning to relax into the almost calm atmosphere. “When a Master accepts an Initiate as their Padawan…” He tried to steer the conversation, though received only identical blank stares from both women. “The Master will braid their Padawan’s hair, or form their silka beads, or, in cases, will help design the marking of Padawanship…” 

“Oh..” Ahsoka blinked, cheeks turning a deeper shade of orange in mild embarrassment. “My Master never… Well… We were in an active warzone.” She realized out loud, scratching her chin idly in thought, markings furrowed deeply as she tried to think back to the old memories on Christophis. “I think it was Master Plo and Master Ti who’d helped me, back then…” 

Before she knew it, Ahsoka was sitting on the floor with Shin tucked between her legs and Huyang supervising the unsteady twist and turn of dark hair in her fingers. “Makers, why is hair so-” She huffed in frustration as Shin’s fingers tapped idly along her knee. “How do humans do this,” She complained as a small band snapped and smacked into her finger, falling uselessly to Shin’s shoulder. 

“Do you want help?” Huyang teased, snapping metal fingers closed uselessly. Shin’s shoulders shook, though from lingering cold or laughter, she could not tell. 

“I got it,” The older woman grumbled, voice reverberating low in her chest as she squinted at the tufts of smooth hair in her fingers. 

“It hurts a human’s head, when you pull,” Padmé instructed, hand resting gently on Ahsoka’s hands, halting the rough movements of a wired up Padawan. “You must be gentle,” She reminded, thumb brushing over young knuckles, scarred from war. 

“I don’t-” The teenager huffed as she looked back to the mop of dark curls on her Master’s head. “Okay.. Yeah… I can do ‘gentle.’” Padmé’s warm laughter filled the apartment as Anakin winced back from another harsh tug.

“Hey! Easy, snips! I’m not a ball of yarn!”

“Well, you’re tangled like one, skyguy,” 

Huffing, Anakin shook his head like a wet tooka, forcibly removing explorative hands from his hair. “Here, let’s do Padmé’s. My head deserves a break,” 

Padmé’s hair had been softer, smoother, straighter, and under Anakin’s careful instruction, a long braid was woven under careful fingers. All the while, the young senator relaxed back into the Padawan, offering quiet tips and praise, or guiding her away when she almost tugged too hard. 

Blinking, Ahsoka stared down at the thin braid that rested in her fingers. The fabric of her pants was bunched up in a small fist, and even Huyang was watching her with a bewilderment that couldn’t fit their situation. “Did you feel that?” Shin whispered, though a wheeze in their chest shook Ahsoka from the shocked stupor. 

Releasing the braid and shaking away the weight of ghostly hands against clammy skin, Ahsoka reached to tug Shin back into her chest. “You’re burning up, Tazi unt,” She grumbled, lips pressing into a warm forehead. “We need to get you in bed,”

“But I gotta build my saber!” They argued, holding the glowing kyber to the lights to prove their point. “You promised!”

“Shin,” Ahsoka sighed softly, fingers brushing through their hair gently. “You will build your lightsaber, that I can promise, but I need you healthy, you won’t want to put off training once it’s made, and you need rest. Even a Jedi Master wouldn’t be able to accomplish what you just did without some rest.” 

The child in her arms pouted as she rose to her feet, though Ahsoka knew she’d won when they sunk into her arms, grumbling quietly in disdain. The logic was sound, and they knew they wanted to be at their best for their first lesson. 

“Huyang, can you grab a hydration tablet and the Polybiotic from the kit?” Ahsoka tossed over her shoulder as she ducked past the rising door of the small bunk room they’d cleared away for Shin. 

“Really?” They huffed as Ahsoka folded to tuck them into the blankets, propping pillows up under them as Huyang’s heavy feet clattered around the ship, finding the requested materials.

“Yes, really, Shin. You’re going to get sick from this, and I’d rather not have to rush you back to Kaeden hurt when we can prevent it,” She scolded, taking the supplies from Huyang the moment he’d returned. “Thank you,” Her head dipped to the professor as he passed the small container for the thick syrupy medicine over, holding it steady as Ahsoka filled it.

“It tastes like Bantha pee,”

“Now, how do you know what that tastes like?” A facial marking rose teasingly as the young Padawan’s hand smacked against her arm lightly. “Come on, bottoms up,” The cup was held to reluctant lips, earning a steely glare from her stubborn human. “Tazi Unt, it’ll be over in half a second, I promise. Come on,” She coaxed, frowning at the stubborn turn of their head. “Huyang…”

“On it,” The dancient droid clattered off again, though Shin’s head didn’t turn away from their fixed position in pouting at the wall. 

The glass of water he’d brought back had tiny particles floating in it, though the crushed sleep inducer went unnoticed by the youngling. “Here, you can drink some of this once you swallow it, and get the taste out faster, alright?” 

Another huff, shoulders sagging in defeat as they finally turned back to the older woman sitting across from her. Tiny hands took the offered cup reluctantly, and with one deep breath, the thick liquid was thrown back. Before they could even swallow, Shin was reaching for the glass in Huyang’s hands, swallowing the medicine before all bug chugging the clear liquid as fast as possible. “Easy, ad’ika!” A large hand moved to rub at their back as they sputtered.

“Can we never do that again? Thanks,” They rasped, shoulders sagging back as the glass was taken from their hands. Ahsoka chuckled warmly, dismissing Huyang with a warm smile and a nod of her head. 

“Meht?” The vulnerability was back, voice small as the half dose of sleep inducer began working through their already overtired system. “Will you stay with me..?” Even on their return trip, they’d avoided sleep, unsure if slumber would bring back the haze of memories and possibilities that they had yet to properly process… But Ahsoka would keep them safe from wrong Shin, and wrong  Jedi Knight, she was sure of it. 

“Of course, scooch over,” With some finagling, Shin managed to find space with the cool durasteel wall at their back, and the ever-present furnace of Ahsoka tucked up under their cheek. A small hand brushed against the soft leather of her Lek as Shin turned to press closer to her, fingers cold against warm skin. “Get some rest, du tunguma.”

It took so long for the cold to pass. The days that followed Shin’s return was full of tissues, fever, and a stubbornness that Ahsoka knew had driven her own Master wild, back in the day. They hadn’t been a fan of waiting, now that they had kyber safely in their own hands, never once allowing the crystal to leave their sight. 

“Have you been studying the different designs?” Ahsoka questioned on the fifth day. Shin was sat at the table, brows scrunched, paint freshly applied, and silver eyes focused intently on their datapad. Coming around the bench, Ahsoka’s fingers reached to press against their forehead and cheeks, thankful that they felt normal for a human. 

When Ahsoka attempted to lean around them to peer at the drawn out schematics, Shin was quick to shut off the screen. “Meht! It’s a surprise!” They scolded, cheeks puffed out as they pushed half-heartedly at Ahsoka’s arm as she came to sit beside them. 

Laughing, Ahsoka scooted over to offer them the privacy they needed. “Alright alright! I get it!” Then, dramatically puffing out her own lips, Ahsoka sighed heavily. “You got a crystal and now you don’t need me anymore-“ 

“You’re being dramatic,” Shin pointed out with a smile. Ahsoka dropped the act when she felt the toe of a soft boot poking against her leg. “I’ll always need you,” 

Laughing, Ahsoka reached under the table to bat their foot away from kicking at her. “Sure, sure,” 

“Just because you’re my master now…” The Padawan paused, suddenly worrying at their lip. “Well, that doesn’t mean…?” 

“Hey hey, don’t think like that,” Ahsoka sobered immediately, reaching across the table to grab their much smaller hand as it picked at the case on their datapad. “I will always be your mother. You’re stuck with me, little hunter,” 

Shin relaxed under the touch, turning Ahsoka’s hand in both of hers, soft thumbs pressing into the hardened skin from the years of lightsaber use. 

Before they could say anything, Huyang emerged from his workshop for the first time that day. “Padawan Tano,” Her head snapped to the side, beaming up at the ancient professor. “I believe I’ve gathered everything we need. Have you drafted your design?” 

“Mhm!” The brunette jumped up from the bench, gathering the datapad up in their arm as they all but ran the short distance. “We’ll be back, no peeking, meht!” 

“Of course, wouldn’t dream of it, tunguma!” 

“Did you grab the handgrip Senator Organa gave me?” Shin questioned as soon as the doors slid shut, peering at the workbenches that had been granted the light of day for the first time since Shin was brought on board. 

“I have, along with a lens assembly and the power cell from Lady Tano,” Huyang stepped around Shin, arms extending from his back and rifling through the thousands of different containers. “Have you brought the emitter from the temple?” 

“The temple..?” Brows furrowed, Shin allowed themselves to lean on one of his tool boxes. “Oh! It’s in the- hang on!” The Padawan scurried from the workspace, only offering Ahsoka a smile and a half wave before rushing off to the cockpit. 

Ahsoka should have been more concerned by the child rushing to the cockpit, and the sound of panels being moved and the ship’s wiring harnesses being moved, though… the crossword puzzle she’d been picking away at was just getting interesting, and Huyang could handle a hyper padawan for five minutes, right?

When Shin scurried back through, their hands were bunched around something wrapped in the outermost layer of their tunic, clutching it close to their chest to stop Ahsoka from seeing.

“Got it!” They whisper-yelled as the door slid shut behind them. The pieces they’d been gathering over the course of the last standard cycle were laid out on the workbench. 

“Excellent. And your Kyber?” 

“Right here!” A small chain rattled as they pulled the necklace that the crystal had been hanging on during their cold, unwilling to part with it even in sleep. 

The crystal was handed over and carefully removed. “Do you remember what we’ve spoken about?” 

“The crystal is the heart of the blade!” They beamed; the mantra had been taught over and over again, although Ahsoka had calmly redirected away from the Jedi, whether from the loss of her people, or the type of war they found themselves in, she’d been been as… intense as the Jedi Huyang may have respected before the Fall. 

“Do you recall the old saying? For the Jedi?” 

It took a moment for the young Padawan to wrack their brain for the response, chewing on their bottom lip in thought. “The Jedi are the crystal of the Force…? But, Huyang…”

“At the root of it all, young one, the Jedi are the heart of the Force… Your master sees this differently, and I can understand, but the Force will always remember them, they continue on in the cosmic Force of the universe around us, always. The crystal, the blade, the Jedi. You are becoming one,” 

“Ahsoka is adamant on not being a Jedi,” Shin pointed out, nervously twisting the chain that held their kyber around their fingers. 

“She fails to see how true she has become. The Order was not what it once was when she was part of it, and… events had occurred that we can’t take back. But she will move forward, as will you.”

“I’m gonna help her.” Shin declared as Huyang pulled out a stool for them  to climb onto. “With everything both of you have taught me, she is a Jedi.” 

The voice box nestled in Huyang’s chest sparked almost warmly as he moved to arrange the pieces. “You’ll do what you must, after all, it is in your lineage…”

Shin Tano was far from a stranger when it came to meditation. While Ahsoka had trouble relaxing fully into the embrace of the Force, Shin could sink into the cosmic power and truly understand. They could feel each piece of their saber as they connected to them in the force.

 The hum of the handgrip that had been made by Alderaanian engineers, the mix of metals and rubbers that made the grip soft and sturdy, the white coating around it that would mold to her grip, over time. 

The emitter matrix that they’d collected while exploring an old Agricorps center, and the spires they’d plucked for the sole purpose of levelling out the weight of the hilt, ensuring it would be perfect for their preferred saber technique. 

Ahsoka had given them a power cell months prior to their gathering, tasking the young Initiate with fixing the cell themselves so it could one day power their own saber. Shin could recall warmly, as they felt the buzz of power inside the charged piece, that they’d completed the task by weeks end, and had only overloaded the circuits once. 

The lens assembly had also been a gift from Ahsoka, one that she’d seemed almost attached to. The metal was scuffed and damaged, as if they’d been pulled from a warzone. When Shin’s connection washed over the piece, it came with the ringing of klaxons, the vacuum of a ship being ripped from the sky, and the shouting of identical voices, none of which the youngling could differentiate from the other noise trapped in the silver alloy. 

“Don’t forget your activator and the power cell release cap,” Huyang’s voice filtered through their focus, reminding them of the parts they’d chosen from his vast array of lightsaber pieces. They’d been created decades ago, picked apart from battlefields and molded into something new, and now, as Shin’s hand raised towards each piece and rose them from the table, they would find their purpose once again in a new generation of Jedi lightsabers. 

Each piece fit together exactly as they’d dreamed, different materials fused together under the fine tuning of the Padawan’s command, twisting and turning under the twitch of small fingers until they clicked just right. 

They were unaware of how much time had passed when they found themselves back in their own body, hand dropping to the workbench with a new weight in it. The saber was heavy, strong, and perfectly balanced. “Huyang,” They called quietly, lips parted in awe as they turned on the stool. The droid, never too far away when a youngling had the chance to blow a hole in the ships hull, turning his head quickly. 

“Is it what you imagined?” He questioned as they slid off the stool, stumbling under the tingling sensation of legs that had fallen asleep. 

“It is…” Silver eyes darkened as they turned the saber in their hands… this was the same saber from the visions… was it a future she was fated to? It couldn’t be, as long as she had Ahsoka, she would write her own destiny. “It’s perfect,” They decided, fingers flexing around the sturdy grip as she beamed up at him.

“Would you like to ignite it now?”

“Nuh-uh, we gotta go show mom,” 

When the door slid open, they found Ahsoka resting peacefully at the table, knees tucked together under a warm blanket as she repaired a blaster hole in one of her favorite ponchos. “Meht!” Shin called excitedly as they ran to her, all but leaping over the open back of the bench to put themselves in the spot beside her, Saber much more carefully placed on the table once they’d settled. “I did it!” 

Blinking, Ahsoka took half a second to safely stow the needle and thread before turning to look first at Shin, and then the saber. “Oh!” Startled, Ahsoka peered at the weapon’s design. “Tell me about it?” Shin scrambled off the bench, taking their sber with them as Huyang came to perch on Ahsoka’s other side.

“So, the hilt was made on Alderaan, Bail helped me; It’s supposed to be for a speeder’s handlebars, and I asked about it last time, so he had one made! It’s so cool, and it’s really soft but also like- not,” They rambled, fingers dancing over the cool material as they explained it. “Huyang helped me with a few pieces too, besides the ones you gave me! It was kind of hard to find the perfect balance for Makashi, but with these-” They pressed the spires over the emitters into the soft pads of their fingers. “They balance it out perfectly!”

“Where is your activation switch?” Ahsoka questioned, peering at the metal disks that seemed wielded into the metal, unable to be moved, the Togruta couldn’t fathom how they would ignite their saber in a rush.

“Well… The Force, really, I haven’t tested it yet, but it should work… Is that okay?”

“Of course, of course! Tazi Unt, it is amazing! I’ve just never seen such a design.”

“Well…” Twwisting the weapon in their hands as nervousness prickled at their skin, Shin found themselves flexing their fingers into familiar material. “Huyang said that the force would…”

Ahsoka cuts them off with a warm smile. “It’s perfect, Shin. When I was a youngling, I redesigned my first saber hundreds of times in my head before my gathering. But when I made these-" The Togruta rose to her feet to gesture to the slim, chrome alloyed sabers on her hips. "They were something I'd only just felt in my dreams. I allowed the force to design the saber that would fit me, just as you've done now. And I'm so proud of you..."

Anxiety turned to bashfullness as Shin’s fingertip slid along the smooth metal of the round disc that cradled their emitter. Silence hung in the air, not entirely uncomfortable, but filling with the trepidation of actually igniting the saber. 

"Have you turned it on yet?" 

Shin looks terrified, but Ahsoka offers a lopsided smile. "Nothing bad will happen, promise. If Huyang has already cleared your power supply-" She wasn't too keen on the thought of cleaning up the remains of an exploded hilt, and while Huyang had found humor in it back in the day, she had to hope he would never do that to them.

 "Go on," She urges as Shin steps further back away from the table and steadies the hilt in her hands. Icy blue light flickers to light in a twitch of power that makes them lean back from the beam of plasma burning through the ozone around her. 

There's a mixture of amazement in her eyes, along with the childish disappointment at the color of the cylinders the plasma was pushed through. "Were you expecting something else" Ahsoka asks, mirth dancing in her tone as she steps behind her padawan and rests a hand on their shoulder. 

Shin's saber lowers as silver eyes flicker down to the sabers on Ahsoka's hips. Their lips twitch slightly and shoulders shrug under her hand. "I thought it would be..." 

"Let’s hope your kyber never has to suffer the same way mine has, Padawan... You do not need to experience the suffering it takes to turn into this," Though there is a warmth in her tone, that Shin would look up to her so much that they’d expected their own crystal to produce a blinding white blade was endearing. She’d just have to hope that the human would never be expected to face the blood stained brothers of the Kyber that resided in her own sabers. 

With a nudge of the force, the saber sank back into the hilt, the smell of burning plasma was cycled out from the filterers kicking on not a moment too soon. “So… How long was I in there, really? Huyang covered the chrono,” The young girl complained as she set her saber back on the table and clambered onto the bench of peer at Ahsoka’s needlework, taking over both her seat and blanket as the woman moved to brew a pot of tea.

“Certainly more than a few hours. How do you feel?” Ahsoka questioned as she rifled through cabinets for a wrapped package of leaves that Cody had once gifted her in celebration. They were old, though the packaging promised that the age would only enhance the flavors of the leaves. 

“Excited, really,” They decided as they picked up the needle and continued the stitchwork along the hole for Ahsoka. The thread was only slightly sloppier than Ahsoka’s, though they were getting better each time. “Kinda tired, but mostly excited.”

“It was approximately five hours and thirty nine minutes,” Huyang chimed in as he retrieved his own datapad from a compartment on his back. “Considering you did not add an activation switch, it’s remarkable that you did not take longer.”

“So… I exceeded expectations?” A self-assured smirk pulled at their lips as they pulled their saber from the corner of the table, slipping their finger through the chrome ring on the pommel to attach it to the belt on their waist. It would take time for them to get used to how much heavier it was compared to Ahsoka’s shoto, but they couldn’t wait to begin properly training. 

“Of course, tazi unt,” Ahsoka laughed warmly as she prepared the third stoop of the leaves, filling duracrete mugs with the golden ichor of perfectly aged leaves. “Here, try this one, as a treat. My grandmaster would always bring it out for celebrations,” 

The tea was warm and rich, it tasted like drinking the happiness of a day spent in the sun on Alderaan; Shin could understand why Ahsoka’s grandmaster would have brought it out, with what they knew. Something light when they were surrounded in the inky darkness that came with war. Silver eyes peered up at her mother, watching how tense shoulders relaxed and she seemed to find a peace in the taste as well. 

She would help Ahsoka become a Jedi again, just like she was doing for them. Shin was certain of it.