#but is actually goofy enough to pull off the yes and successfully and go along and then your parents find yall both 30 minutes later

[bottomschlatt]

etho probably goes so fucking hard if youre his 9 year old niece

[kaderp]

ALRIGHT FUCKERS THIS IS GONNA BE A HELLA LONG MEGAPOST AS I WAS GIVEN THE OK

BASICALLY this is gonna be a collection of bullshit me and @blackfliesinbluesugar have come up with and drawn

It starts with Goldie still living in Ireland at 17-19 and Scrooge from ages 18-20 staying in Scotland. And long story short they're dumbasses as teens. Cliche forbidden romance type stuff. Goldie's dad has shot people in the foot for trying to mess around with Goldie or just even talk to her for too long. So the only logical explanation they have is make Scrooge hide in the barn when he visits.

Basically Scrooge chills in the barn for a while cause Goldie's the only one that ever really goes in there because she's in charge of all the chores there. Which is where the context of this post is from

After the first time they fooled around Goldie was like 'oh crap what if I got pregnant D:' and told her mom she's going through a phase of flowey/big dresses when in reality she's trying to hide a potential baby bump. Now her mom doesn't care because she's too caught up in the fact that Goldie is finally 'acting like a lady.'

So eventually because they never put together that 'hey, if we keeping doing this we're gonna end up with a baby', Goldie does end up pregnant. And because her dad is a dick and a 'I catch you with my daughter then you die' type of shotgun dad, Goldie is freaking tf out.

About a month after she finds out she's pregnant, the O'Gilt's (well mostly just Goldie and her mom lol) get invited to a fancy dinner and Scrooge is really wanting to see Goldie again. So what better way to see her than to travel to Ireland, steal a uniform, and sneak into said dinner party as a busboy. Problem is he can't risk Goldie's dad seeing him again so he tries to slick back his whiskers

But while Scrooge is running around, he eventually spots Goldie across the room. Now he's never seen her in anything fancy, usually just the flannel and green work skirt. And he just about dies 😭

By now she has a bit of a baby bump she's had to hide so she normally goes for high waisted dresses that immediately flow out.

Anyways, as Scrooge is putting on the uniform he realizes he has absolutely no idea how to actually be a busboy. He doesn't know the first thing about dining and stuff so he's just like AAAAAAA

As they both see each other, Scrooge gives a dorky grin and Goldie smiles before realizing he snuck in. Right when Scrooge goes to see her he gets dumped with a bunch of dishes he has to set. Goldie sees him struggling to figure out how to set a table and he just gives her a nervous grin while she's like 'oh you beautiful dumbass -_-'

She's turning red cause she's trying so hard not to burst out in laughter as Scrooge slips and a bunch of silverware falls on him

He's getting yelled at by the director but he's just giving Goldie a goofy grin from across the room.

Her parents: remember to be calm and not make a scene no matter wh-

Goldie watching Scrooge trip on the tablecloth: BWAHAHA

But as the dinner progresses, Goldie remembers Scrooge doesn't even know she's pregnant. So she keeps trying to tell him but they both constantly get pulled away to do other things.

Towards the end of dinner Scrooge gets a free moment and realizes then that 'holy shit I actually like really love her!' So he darts to wherever she is and is struggling to get it out cause he doesn't know how much time he has left. He eventually spits it out and tells Goldie he loves her and is immediately called away. Scrooge takes her hands and quickly kisses her cheek before running to wherever the director is calling him from.

Goldie is shocked and stays still for a moment but by the time the shock wears off she realizes Scrooge is already long gone and they don't see each other again. And now Goldie's like 'crap crap crap, he said he loves me and I didn't even tell him I'm pregnant.'

They aren't able to communicate for a while cause Goldie's so focused on trying to keep her family pleased while still hiding her baby bump, and Scrooge keeps getting sidetracked and forgetting to write. (You can't tell me that isn't something he'd do because he kept getting distracted in the life and times when coming back home). He has her address, and he has started a letter, and even his family knows about her. 3ish months pass of no communications until one night Goldie starts contractions.

She darts to the barn after the first contraction and realizes she has to do this alone. A letter takes a day to get to Scrooge and going to Scotland herself would take closer to 7 hours. At that point it would be safer to not move.

It's like 3am by the time she lays and the egg ends up being pretty small. The entire time Goldie was just getting sicker and sicker. She ends up too weak to even hide the egg and has a high fever. She seriously thinks she's not gonna make it for the first night she can barely stay conscious.

The next morning she has just enough strength to lazily hide the egg in the hay and sluggishly make her way back to the main house. Her parents are already up and she explains she started feeling iffy while doing chores and collapses.

Because her parents aren't completely heartless and she still is their daughter, her parents' main focus shifts to trying to nurse her back to health. They assume she fell with a bad flu and don't know she had spent all night laying an egg.

During this time she writes to Scrooge telling him to get over here asap, it's an emergency.

Goldie's parents take over her chores in the barn and the moment they said that Goldie went into panic mode again. During a lunch break she climbs through her window and runs to the barn to hide the egg better. She does, and she successfully makes it back to her room but collapses again and sleeps until the next day.

Scrooge arrives 3 days after she lays and now she's really panicking. She's still weak and sick, and her parents are coming closer and closer to finding the egg. Scrooge when he sees her is genuinely freaking out. Not only for the future and that he now has an egg, but because Goldie did it by herself in a dirty barn. She's still a little loopy even though it's been a few days and Scrooge just feels heart broken that he wasn't there to help. He starts going on a tangent about how she could have died but Goldie just kisses him to get him to stop blabbering.

Scrooge helps her clean up a bit cause even with her parents looking after her, she's still a mess. But as he's washing her and the egg up, they hear fighting from the main house. Her parents realized she wasn't in her bed. She starts crying and tells Scrooge he needs to run home asap because if her dad finds out he'll most definitely kill him and/or the baby.

(This was the first doodle for the au before deciding on an exact age/place/look so don't mind the sloppiness)

Scrooge escapes right as her dad comes in. She pulls the excuse of she thought she felt well enough to do chores.

Scrooge rn is running like a madman back to Scotland. He went from chilling with his family to being a father who's child needs to be kept secret within a day.

By the time Scrooge gets back home it's the middle of the night and is ngl feeling pretty overwhelmed. He tells Downy that he messed up and she's just like ??? So Scrooge holds up the egg and Downy just purses her lips like 'ah'

The next morning Scrooge explains to his family what happened and doesn't leave out any detail. Fergus and Downy obviously have mixed feelings. Scrooge is barely 19 yet he already has a kid??? But in the end they realize they can't change what's happened and focus on helping Scrooge protect this child.

Once the baby hatched, all mixed feelings from Downy erased and she just went into 'this is my grandbaby and no one will touch her' mood.

Scrooge and Goldie kept in contact from the moment Goldie gave away the egg. Because of the little incident of Goldie 'trying to do chores while sick,' she was put under close monitoring for the next few months and couldn't visit each other. After constant writing back and forth, they find a date to meet up half way between Scotland and Ireland so Goldie can meet her baby. They try to decide on baby names through the letter but they can't agree on anything. Goldie finds out that Scrooge moved out of his small Glasgow home and into McDuck Castle. He gives her the new location on the map as well.

The first time Scrooge tries to sneak out with the baby Fergus is just standing right outside with his brow arched and Scrooge starts freaking out.

Before Scrooge can apologize for trying to sneak out, Fergus just asks if Scrooge would like him to go with.

Scrooge is a little shocked but can't talk with the frog in his throat and just nods. Along the way Scrooge explains how he and Goldie have been trying to find the right time to sneak out for weeks because it was so hard for Goldie to get free time. She was sent to go across country to get supplies and uses that opportunity to go meet up with Scrooge and the baby again.

Fergus just nods and continues.

When they do see Goldie, she almost breaks down at the sight that the baby survived and is being raised in a good house hold and can't stop holding her. The baby is about 3 months old by now. They finally agreed on a name and she ended up being named Maryanne. (Yes Jelly and I chose that because it means Star of the Sea)

She has to give the baby back to Scrooge cause stupid teenage and still getting over pregnancy hormones are getting the better of her and she starts full on sobbing as she sits on the ground. Scrooge freezes cause he's like aaaaaa what do I dooooo while still holding the baby.

But Fergus crouches down to her and asks if she wants a hug. All Goldie can say is 'uh huh' and he just wraps himself around her. She hugs back and Fergus rocks back and forth until Goldie's calmed down.

'I'm sorry I pulled your son into the mess. I-I was just so scared that my papa w-would kill one of us that I didn't know what else to do.'

Fergus pulls her away so he can actually look at her. And part of him feels that tinge of fear and sadness that the two teens had experienced. He grabs onto her shoulders which causes Goldie to look up at him.

'While I dinnae agree what you two did was right. Ah'm proud of you. Because what you did, finding the will to give up a child for their own safety, took a lotta strength there, lass.' And before she can react, Fergus pulls her in again and let's it sink in.

Scrooge is still holding the baby but now he's sitting down and bouncing the cooing baby on his knee while watching the scene unfold.

Over the course of the next few months, Goldie visits as much as possible and she grows closer to the family and Scrooge every time. On the times she can't visit, Fergus accompanies Scrooge in order to protect them from Goldie's dad. She's had a few close calls with her dad, but nothing too serious

After those events, Goldie practically moves in with the McDucks and they work on raising Maryanne. However like in the Rosa series, they're still experiencing tax trouble and Scrooge says he's gonna have to go to South Africa. The baby is about 2 by now and Scrooge is almost 21, while Goldie is about 19 and a half.

(This next section was an accident but basically it started as jotting down ideas but turned into a fic after I said it would take 20 seconds to write but turned into 2 hours fjdbfndn)

Scrooge is torn between whether or not to go until Goldie says she'll go with him. And because she's stubborn, no one objects. So the three travel across the world together. Maryanne practically grows up on the sea and all of those adventures where Goldie is present in the DT17 Rewriting History book happen.

On adventures they trade off tying the baby to their backs until she's old enough to not need to anymore. Although for the more dangerous ones, one of them stays behind.

But because they weren't married and had a kid in their teens, they were generally looked down upon. It got to the point where they just started saying they were married in order to avoid conflict with others. And after a while they actually forgot they weren't in fact married

'Huh, I forgot we're not actually married.' 'WAIT WE'RE NOT???'

Or

'We're married' 'Oh ok, can i see your marriage records?' '... oh right'

But some old lady or old guy either way starts criticizing Goldie for being a young mother and they just deck the shit outta them and run. Or Goldie fighting someone with baby tied to her back.

Maryanne grows up to be an ocean cartographer and leads sailing expeditions and that's all we have for her. Also she has super blue eyes lol

That's basically almost all of the things we have for this au lol

[peach-the-owl]

How about a scenario with each of the M9 where the child calls them Mom or Dad.

Yes… just yes 😊

You call them Mom/Dad

Child of the Nein (Mighty Nein & Child!Reader)

Jester

You and Jester were shopping and causing some mischief around Zadash, nothing crazy of course. Something caught the corner of your eye, a doll dressed up like a warrior was sitting proud in the window display of a toy shop making your eyes sparkle with excitment. You run over to Jester and tug at her dress while bouncing in you feet.

"Mommy! Mommy look! Can I get that doll please?" You say without a second thought, pointing towards the shop. Jester looks at you astonished for a moment, this was the first time you’d called her mom. You give her a confused look when she doesn’t respond right away and watch her press her hands together as if she were about to pray and a large smile stretch across her face.

"You think of me as your momma?" Despite the smile Jester sounded like she was about to cry. You tilt your head to the side confused, had you said something wrong?

"I’m sorry, should I not-"

"No no, don’t be sorry." Jester quickly cuts you off. "I’ll happily be you momma!" She picks you up and places a few kisses on your cheek and forehead before placing you back down and taking your hands in hers. "Now let’s go get you that doll." With that you both practically skip over to the toy store. You were really glad you got to meet Jester, she was everything you wanted in a mom, especially compared to your old caretaker, whatever happened to them? You didn’t know and you didn’t care anymore because now you had someone who actually loved and cared about you.

Nott

You’d accidentally called mom once before but Nott had easily accepted the roll, having already seen you as her own child. Afterwards it came a little easier to refer to her as such but only when you’re in towns or cities on a small break between adventures. It was kinda funny in a way how it was easy to call her mom in such domestic places but once you were on the road again you'd go back to calling her by name. Nott didn’t mind of course, adventures were intense with little time to think about names and/or titles so it wasn’t much of a surprise that you would do this.

Caleb

Caleb has always tried to distance himself from others, scared to let people into the shell that is his life and yet you had still managed to find a way in. At first he’d brush it all off finding an excuse for why you were just tagging along with him, but over the years he began to warm up to you, seeing as you were his only loyal company besides Frumpkin before you’d met the rest of the Nein.

"Hey, Caleb?" Your little voice pulls him away from his daydreaming. "I want to show you something, I’ve been practicing really hard." He shifts a bit so his full attention is on you. You take a deep breath and pull a cocoon from your bag, Caleb’s taught you a lot now it was time to put it to the test. There’s a slight glow and flash Caleb watches as you body shifts and turns into the form of a cat, your cat form pads over to him and hops up for a closer look. With a quick gesture of his hands the spell wears off and you quickly change back to yourself, you stare up at him with a large smile as he gives you a proud look.

"If that was your first time successfully casting Polymorph you did wonderfully, I’m proud of you." He kneels down and places a hand on your shoulder, a small smile placed on his features.

"Thanks!" You beam at him, giggling a little. "But that’s because I’ve got you as my teacher papa." The word sorta slipped out without your knowledge, effectively shocking him. You happily skip off to tell everyone what you just accomplished, leaving Caleb still kneeling down in deep thought.

You’d called him papa, you saw him as a father figure, someone to look up to and depend on. You looked at him the opposite of how he saw himself, and had done so without a second thought or regret. "I don’t deserve this." He mutters to himself as he watches you skip over to Jester and Nott to tell them of your accomplishments.

Caduceus

You let out a huff, confused and conflicted on what your thoughts were doing, was this supposed to be a good thing or a bad one. Caduceus walks into the little inn room seeing you huff around a little.

"You alright? You’ve been huffing around a lot." He stares at you concerned. You look up at him and he could now see the slight gloss that glazed over your eyes, he kneels down and you instinctively walk into his waiting arms. "Would you like to talk about it?" He asks calmly, you nod after a moment.

"It’s been so long since the last time I saw my family and…" You hold back a small sob, "and I can’t remember what they look like anymore. Is that bad? I’m I a bad kid for forgetting my own family?" A few tears spill over but Caduceus catches them.

"Tell me, do you still know their names?" You nod your head. "Can you still remember the lessons they taught you, or maybe the games they played with you?" Again you nod. "Then you haven’t forgotten them, so long as you still have memories with them you haven’t forgotten them. You’re not a bad kid, far from it."

"Thank you papa." You pause, having caught your own words and look up at Caduceus. He looks surprised at first, but that quickly turns to a gentle smile and he places a soft kiss to the top of your head. You didn’t think much on it before but you had to admit every time you tried to picture your father in your head all you could see was Caduceus, and honestly that wasn’t so bad.

Fjord

Being back in Port Damali always left a nice yet uncomfortable feeling to you, it was where you were raised with the beautiful open sea but the conditions you were raised in weren’t exactly ideal. Which is why you were always greatful when Fjord had agreed to take you with him all that time ago. You find yourself walking along the beach, old habits die hard I guess, not that you minded. You hear someone come walking up from behind and look over at Fjord as he approches.

"Brings back memories doesn’t it." He says, taking a seat on the sand, you join him.

"Yeah, it felt like so long ago… time's weird when adventuring." This earns you a chuckle.

"It sure can be. You know we could recreate that scenario, I could pretend to be unconscious and you aggressively poke me with a stick." He jokes, now getting a chuckle out of you.

"That’s stupid," you playfully push his shoulder. "Don’t be ridiculous dad." You quickly place a hand over your mouth once you’d caught what you just said. Slowly you turn to look at Fjord who’s staring right back, a look of astonishment on his face.

"Did you just call me dad?" You didn’t notice the smile that started to form on his face.

"I’m sorry, I just sorta slipped out, I didn’t mean t-"

"You see me as your father?" He cuts you off a bit, his voice filled with joy. You turn to face him again, seeing him giving you such a caring and joyful smile.

"Well, yeah… I-I guess. You were the first person who treated me so nicely and you took me along with you, it just… felt right to say." You admit a little sheepishly.

"Then by all means, don’t let me stop you." Fjord then pulls you closer to him and stands up with you in his arms, as he places a gentle kiss to you temple. You were glad you had decided to take that beach walk all that time ago, meeting Fjord was by far the best thing to ever happen to you. As for Fjord he was happy to give you something he never had as a child, a father to look up to and depend on.

Beau

Another day another training session, kicks and punches being thrown every which way, thankfully you had the stamina to keep up with Beau. It could be a little tiring but it was necessary to keep your reflexes sharp, then you get punched in the jaw, not too hard that it'd break but enough to leave a bruise later.

"Don’t go drifting off into Lala land. Keep your eyes on the enemy or else that’s going to happen again." You give her a thumbs up and make sure you dodge the next attack she throws at you. When your training is finally over you take a seat and rub at your jaw a bit, feeling where the bruise was forming. "Here, this’ll help." Beau sits down next to you and hands you a healing potion and a cup of water.

"Thanks mom." You say nonchalantly.

"What did you just call me?" Beau asks in surprise. It takes you a second to actually register what you just said, you go stiff when realization sets in.

"Ummm, n-nothing I just said thanks." You look away to try and hide your embarrassment.

"I’m falling for that (y/n). Do you seriously see me as a mother or something?" Beau asks, genuinely curious to your responce. You let out a sigh.

"Yeah, kinda." You finally admit. "It’s just that even though I know you don’t care much for stuff like this, you treat me better then my real parents ever have… guess I just started projecting a little." You scratch at the back of your head and look away from her a little, feeling embarrassed to finally admit to all this. Beau places an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closer to her side.

"I’ve never claimed to be good at this, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I like you kid, you got a good spirit to you. So if you want to see me as a sort of mother figure then sure I’ll take it, and if your parents somehow found out and don’t like it that’s just too bad for them." She puts on a goofy smile and ruffles at your hair, making you relax and laugh a little at her antics.

Yasha

One of the few things you liked when it was just you and Yasha traveling alone was the number of flower fields you managed to come across, Yasha’s love and collection of flowers had passed over to you. You spend hours looking through the wildflowers until you found a good handful of them that you and Yasha would then braid into each other’s hair (if your hair is long enough), or sometimes you’d just roll around in the grass. It wasn’t much but these little moments were nice temporary distractions from the troubles that weighed you both down. After putting in the last flower to Yasha’s braid she stands and looks at you.

"How do I look?"

"You look like and angel mama." She body stiffens and her breath hitches a little at your words.

"You-you called me mama." Hearing her say it out loud made you realize your mistake.

"I’m sorry, it just slipped out." You apologize, now feeling bad for the slip of your tounge.

"No, i-it’s ok. Just surprising." She kneels down and gently pulls you in for a hug which you return. "You know…" Yasha starts but let’s her words drift a bit before continuing. "Zuala and I had always wanted a child."

"You have?" You look up at her with big, curious eyes at the mention of her deceased wife.

"Yeah… and I always thought if we did, they would be a lot like you." You smile and cuddle into her more as she tightens her grip on you a bit, as if the second she lets go you’d disappear from her. You stayed like that in the field for who knows how long, just savouring each others presents.

Molly

Taverns, where you can get all the latest gossip, at least decent meals and loads of entertainment from drunken idiots thinking they're some big hotshot, and music one can never forget the music. Taverns were also a place where sketchy individuals would prey on poor unsuspecting souls, which is why you were always super careful and alert to the people you would interact with. Some said sketchy individuals had just asked you "innocently" to join them and see something cool in the alleyway, you had to hold back a laugh at these armatures, did they really think you for an idiot just because you were young? Well that wasn’t going to stop you from having a little fun of your own.

"Before we go, I should really ask if it’s ok." You say faking your own innocence, except yours was much more convincing as you make your way over to the bar where Molly was flirting with one of the locals. You tug on his coat to get his attention, he gives you a quick side glance. "Hey papa," now you had his full attention as he whips around to look at you with a shocked expression. "Those men over there say they want to show me something cool in the alleyway, can I go?" You ask still playing your little game as you point to the now nervous men. It still took Molly a second to register your words but once it clicked into his head what was happening he gives you a sly smile.

"No no, you stay here while your papa has a chat with them." He say loud enough for the men to hear, he stands and the men dash out of the tavern. "Armatures." He mutters, sitting down again.

"Aww, are they really your child? They’re such a cutie." The woman Molly had been talking to coos at you. You give her a smile.

"Well it was-"

"Yes they are." Molly cuts you off, picking you up and placing you on his lap. You look at him a little confused and he pokes your nose, then he goes off making up a story of how he found you and took you into his care. You playfully roll your eyes at his tall tale that the woman and now a few others were eating up unaware of all the contradictions in the story. Behind all the exaggerations and using you as a chick magnet there was genuine affection Molly had towards you, a part of him liking the thought of you being his kid, even if it wasn’t by blood.

[xwing-baby]

A Day Off (Mandalorian x Reader)

This was inspired by everyone’s favourite @dindjarindiaries ​ and her lovely fic ‘The Challenge’ go read it because it's way better than this bullshit that my brain came up with. You’re an amazing writer Molly, I am sorry for this. I’m not sure why I really wrote this, but I hope you enjoy!

IMAGINE: Din leaves you for the day to go on a hunt. You entertain yourself and end up very drunk by the time he comes to find you. Hilarity ensues. (Drink responsibly kids!)

Word count: 2.4k... this was meant to be short. 

Warnings: Mention of alcohol, violence, and vomit! Please drink responsibly!! Cheeky bit of pining, little bit of flirting, fluff at the end!

The decision to leave you out of today’s hunt was a mutual one. You were tired and in need of a rest, the quarry was easy and Din was more than capable on his own anyway. So, he left you in a small town a few miles from his destination. In that small town, you found a tired old cantina, filled with enough booze and pleasant conversation to survive the next few hours. 

The hunt was done, the victim handed off successfully to the right person and Din was on his way to find you so you could move on to the next planet. He was tired and bruised from the hunt and wanted to get back to the safety of the Crest sooner rather than later, but knew as soon as he heard your distinctive laugh from outside the cantina that that was not going to be the reality. 

As if you knew he was coming, you stumbled out of the door before he could even open it. Your hair was messed up, strands falling out of the tie and into your face. There was liquid spilled down the front of your shirt and your boots were untied. You looked a mess. For a second he was a little worried, until a goofy smile spread across your face when you recognised him. 

“You came back!” You threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around the Mandalorian. Shocked, Din stands still. Not really sure what to do with himself. You notice and laugh, stumbling back off him. “You were gone for like a million hours! I missed you” 

“It was ten hours,” Din said with a smile, “But we’re going now,”

“Great, ‘cus I don’t think I can go back in there again,” You ran ahead of Din a few paces and grimaced. “Not a lot of friends were made today! But-but- but! I did a good thing actually!” Din just kept walking, trying not to entertain your rambling. You carried on anyway, you were used to his silence by now. “There was this twi’lek right, looked great but oh my stars! The worst! Turns out he knew you! Everyone knows you, not a surprise there. But he also knew that I was with you and tried to chat shit about you!” You were shouting now, gesturing animatedly and zigzagging across the street. “And he kept going so I just punched him,” You mimicked your actions from early, swinging your arm and using the momentum to turn back around to face the Mandalorian, “Punched him straight in the face! It was awesome!” 

“You didn’t need to do that,” 

“He was an asshole of course I did,” You sighed, “And apparently you know his sister or something? Didn’t realise you were such a Casanova, Tinman!” Again Din didn’t reply. He knew exactly who you were on about and was a little proud that you’d punched the guy. Must have been Xi’an’s brother. “Well, of course you are,” You continued. “You’re so freaking handsome all the time, and nobody can even see your face!” You swung back around to walk forward again, swinging your arms by your sides and giggling as you thought about what the Mandalorian might look like. You hadn’t been in his crew long but had developed feelings for him quite quickly. Not that Din knew this, “You know, I bet you’re really pretty under that helmet,” You tapped the top of his head for emphasis. “I don’t think you understand how pretty you are with it on! Maybe it’s for the best that you keep it on, you’d never be able to get anything done!” 

“Alright, y/n,” 

“You’re going to make some woman very happy one day Mando,” You said with a dreamy look in your eye. 

Din smiled and blushed a little at your words. At the same time you had developed feelings for Din, Din had developed feelings for you. He was very glad to have the helmet to hide how obvious a blush came to his face when you said things like that. He wanted nothing more than to make you happy, if you only knew. 

The pair carried on walking out of the town, and towards the small valley the crest had been hidden in. You carried on rambling away, telling him in immense detail everything that had happened while he was gone. 

“And then I got challenged to a drinking contest with this other dude. I say dude but turns out he was a Wookie. And I won! Everyone says I didn’t but I saw the way he walked out of there, I won so hard! Drunk him under the table,” You spoke quickly and animatedly. Din wasn’t really listening anymore, just enjoying the sound of your voice and watching you as you walked ahead making sure you didn’t fall over. “You should have been there and we could have smashed it!” You laughed, spinning around to face him again now with a puzzled look on your face. “Have you ever been drunk, Mando?” 

“A few times,” He replied, “Watch where you’re going,” 

“I am,” You say, continuing to walk backwards anyway. You thought about something for a second then spoke again, “But what about the Creed? Don’t you have to drink alone? Or,” You stopped again and burst into laughter. Din stopped walking, his patience growing a little thin. “D-do you, Ha!” You could barely get your words out, tears streaming down your face laughing at your own thoughts. “To- to get around the cr-creed… oh my stars!” 

“Y/n I don’t have time for this,” He said sharply.

“You have to use a straw!” You howled with laughter. Din shook his head, he wanted to be annoyed at you but your infectious laugh had caught him. He stifled his own laughter. “I want to see it so bad! Oh my stars!” 

“You’ve had your fun now,” Din tried to sound serious, his voice wavering a bit through the modulator as he tried not to laugh. 

“Yes, yes… oh! I’m sorry,” You tried to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “Yes, I’m sorry you’re a super serious Mandalorian you wouldn’t use a straw!” You coughed to force yourself to calm down but cackled with laughter again. Din started walking again, leaving you behind a few paces while you calmed yourself down. Eventually, you followed and saw the ship over the crest of the hill. 

“I’ll race you!” You called, already speeding past the Mandalorian down the grassy hill. “Winner gets the refresher first!” 

You ran as fast as you could, and looked back for just a second to see that your companion hadn’t followed you. Before you could even blink you tripped and fell on a rock sticking out of the grass. You fell, flipping over and landing with a thud on your back. You skidded to a halt at the bottom of the hill, conveniently next to your intended destination. This made Din run. 

Once he got to the bottom where you were, his panic quickly vanished as he found you in fits of laughter yet again. 

“Did you see that!” You laughed. “I won!” 

“Are you alright?” 

“My back hurts a little, but I won, loser!” You exclaimed, putting your fingers in a ‘L’ on your forehead. Din rolled his eyes. As if this whole experience couldn’t get more ridiculous. “Not going to help me up?” You pouted and held up your arms like a child. Din uncrossed his arms and held his gloved hand out for you to grab and pulled you up to your feet again. The back of your shirt was ripped and grass stains covered the pale materials along with a few drops of blood. You didn’t seem concerned at all as the alcohol in your system was numbing everything. 

Din opened the Crest and you walked up the ramp to the safety of its interior. 

“Where’s the baby?” You whispered loudly. Ever since you’d joined the crew you’d loved the Child like your own. Another thing Din admired about you. “Baby! We’re back,” 

“Why are you whispering?” 

“Shh!” You shoved your hand over the front of his helmet, “He might be sleeping,” Din pushed your hand off, and you carried on walking into the ship, creeping on your tiptoes. 

“I think you need to go to sleep,” 

“Only if you’ll come with me,” You turned around and looked the Mandalorian up and down, your playful attitude now turning darker. You played with the buttons of your shirt, slowly undoing them. Din was stunned, freezing in his spot. 

“That wouldn’t be appropriate,” Din tried to stay composed, but it was becoming more and more difficult as you took your top off. He knew he couldn’t do anything, you were way too drunk. He wasn’t an idiot. But he was also human. 

“I bet you’re so pretty under there,” You sighed. You moved to be closer to him when a small green creature stood on a box and caught your attention instead. “Hey little guy!” Din took a sigh of relief, the tension you had created dissipated almost instantly as you bent down to pet the little creature. 

While you were distracted he checked over your back, seeing only a few scrapes and deciding it would be fine until the morning when you’d sobered and also weren’t trying to flirt with him anymore. Well, the last part he didn’t mind so much. 

Din went about his usual take-off activities. He could hear you talking to the Child, telling the little thing about your day and listening to it babble back, acting as if you could understand what it was saying. Eventually, you disappeared into the ship. Din hoped that you had gone to sleep. 

You hadn’t. You went to throw up, ultimately finding an empty freight box. The mixture of spinning from alcohol and the bumpy takeoff made for an upsetting mix. The Child grimaced and put its hand up to comfort you. An odd feeling washed over you, like a warm water trickling through you, then you felt better. You could see straight now. The Child seemed happy with whatever it had done and toddled away. 

You pushed yourself off the floor, and went in search of a new shirt. The cold chill of space had begun to seep into the ship's cracks making you shiver. You stumbled into Din’s quarters, you shouldn’t have  been in there but it was the first place you thought to look for a new shirt. And you found one. His cot was messy, clothes thrown around the small room. You couldn’t help but think about him then, getting out of that armour… 

It was too much. You shook your head. Even your drunk brain knew it was wrong to think about him like that. He didn’t like you, like that, there was no need to encourage the idea. Instead, you pulled the closest piece of clothing on. It was a little too big, but it smelt like him which made you smile. 

You decided to go to the cockpit to bother the Mandalorian again. It was lonely being drunk on your own. You climbed up to the cockpit and stood in the door silently. Din was talking quietly to the Child, trying to pull it away from the many shiny switches on the control panel. You grinned, seeing him with the child made your heart soar. He was so sweet to the creature, for a moment you could forget what a formidable character the Mandalorian really was. He acted like the creature’s dad and it was entirely believable. Quietly, you settled into the seat to his right, looking out as the stars streamed past in hyperdrive. Din had noticed, though didn’t say anything. It was silent for a moment or two, bar the Child’s playful squeals as it played with a silver ball. Din figured you had fallen asleep, glad that you weren’t trying to flirt with him anymore. 

“When are you going to let me fly?” You ask suddenly. Din turns to you, but doesn’t say anything. This was almost a daily discussion. It was always no. “I know you said no the last time but I really think you’re underestimating me. I land badly one time and you never trust me to fly your ship!” 

“You crashed,” Mando said plainly.

“One time!” You exclaimed. “I’ll have you know it was very harsh conditions, and desert planets are very deceptive! Give me a nice- a nice planet,” You slurred as your eyes become heavier, “and I promise I will land the crest beautifully,”

“No way,” 

“Spoil sport,” You grumble. The Child hopped up into your lap, and presented the silver ball it had in its mouth, which made you giggle. You settled further into the seat, throwing your legs over the armrest, kicking them against the leather. The Child sat in your lap and showed you its new trick of making the item float. 

Mindlessly you began to sing, quietly, and play with the Child. The melody made Din’s ears prick, you were singing in Mando’a, a song that he hadn’t heard since he was a child. Your voice made him shiver, memories flooding back of the few happy moments of his life when this song was sung last. 

You sang it to the end, with very few mistakes, making Din wonder how long you’d known it. You must have known it for a while, but you’d never understood him when he spoke the language before. 

“Where did you learn that?” He finally caved and asked, wanting nothing more than for you to sing it again.

“I learnt it for you,” You said with a yawn, your eyes closing. You started singing again, the words now fading into mumbles and eventually you fell asleep. He turned in his chair to look at you as you were quiet once more. You’d curled yourself up in the chair, head tilted back resting on the wall. The Child sat in your chest, playing with the ends of your hair. The child looked at Din and smiled, then back at you. It's a little green hand patting your leg and it cooed.

“I know, kid.”

A/N: That ended a lot softer than I planned but hey ho. Remember drink responsibly, don’t challenge a wookie to a drinking challenge, you will lose. They’re massive. Goodnight!

Tagging: @captain-skytrash​ @dindjarindiaries​ @dartheldur​ @inked-poet​ @tortles

[asthmark]

❝ let’s dance ❞ s.jh

synopsis → “i’m gonna marry you.”

request → “How about Johnny fluff partying time and the concept theme is the 80s” — @heart-bleeding-autism-angel​

word count → 2.5k

a/n → the amount of googling i did for this is scary .. and i still know literally nothing abt the 80’s LOL anyway the title is my fav david bowie song that happened to be released in ‘83 and it kind of fits the the fic so,,, cool :-)

the moonlight shines through your window, casting it’s heavenly glow on your face. despite the late hour, it illuminates your entire room enough that you can read the time off the clock hanging on your wall.

11:55 p.m.

if they decide to be on time, your friends should be arriving in five minutes.

you retreat from your windowsill to prepare yourself. you stop in front of your closet, staring at the array of clothing. it takes you a couple moments to pick something you liked. you, of course, wanted to impress johnny, the self proclaimed fashion evaluator, but there was no better feeling than knowing you looked good.

you settle on a cozy turtleneck and your favorite mini skirt. then you pull on a pair of tube socks and slip on your prized white sneakers. for the final touch, you slide on a thin buckle belt through the loops of your skirt to tie it all together.

you smile satisfactorily at your reflection in the mirror and what was sure to be your best outfit yet. besides being well-put together, it felt comfortable enough to move around in and you knew you would surely be doing much moving that night.

once the clock strikes midnight, you notice  light flash into your room. since it’s brighter than that of the moon, you know exactly who must be behind it. even if you didn’t, the hushed chatter and giggling from outside your window gives it away. you peer down into your backyard to find sicheng and jaehyun standing there, flashlights in hand and aimed directly into your bedroom.

you hastily wave your hands at them, your face twisted with worry. they wave back at you with goofy smiles on their faces, oblivious to your concern.

“cut the lights!” you hiss as silently as you can.

they finally seem to get the hint and click them off. jaehyun shouts back, “sorry!” accompanied by a laugh sicheng has failed to contain. you wince at their volume. there was no keeping them quiet so you decide your only option is to move as fast as you possibly can.

you carefully push one leg out of your window. it dangles above the roof of the front porch and you slowly lower it onto the tile. once you’ve successfully planted half of yourself on the roof, you bring your other leg down. this action is followed by a slight creek but you don’t even bother hesitating. you crouch down to the edge of the house and repeat the previous steps, this time landing on the front steps of your porch.

“that was smooth!” jaehyun exclaims in awe.

you bring a finger to your lips but still can’t help but smile at the praise.

“you’re like a ninja,” adds sicheng. “or a cat.” he pauses, deep in thought, before concluding, “you’re a ninja cat.”

you raise a brow. “you’ve both been drinking, haven't you?”

“no.”

“yes.”

“i’m gonna have to believe jae on this one,” you say, observing the way sicheng’s eyelids droop and he slurs his words. “you couldn’t have waited ‘til we got to the club?”

he whines like a child. “i was thirsty!”

you clamp your hand over his mouth and scold him. “why do you feel the need to be so loud? do you want me to get caught?”

jaehyun hiccups. “aren’t you glad i’m an introvert? i’ll never get you in trouble.”

you laugh dryly. “sure, you’re all introverted until you find some random chick to grind on.”

he pouts. “let me have fun.”

“it’s fun until you spill your drink on her and i have to help clean—oh come on, sicheng, did you just lick me?” you remove your hand from his mouth only to find a big smile on his lips.

“perhaps.”

“god, let’s just go. where’s johnny parked?”  

“end of the street.”

you go in said direction with your two friends trailing behind you, messing around all the while. the three of you only stop when you catch sight of johnny’s shiny black convertible. you approach the vehicle and when he notices you, he smiles and shoots you a wink.

“you’re such a flirt,” you comment, opening the door to the passenger's seat.  

he shrugs. “but you still fell in love with me so i’d say it’s worked out pretty well up until this point.”

you’re about to respond when jaehyun interrupts. “hey, i wanted to ride shotgun!”

“me too!” agrees sicheng. “y/n always gets it!”

johnny glares at the pair through the rear view mirror. “and that’s how i like it so get in the backseat or you’re walking.”

they mumble what you assume are complaints yet still get in the car.

johnny revs up the engine but before you go anywhere he makes an announcement. “and if either of you are going to vomit again, all i ask is that you don’t do it in here. my dad just bought me this bad boy.”

a chuckle escapes your lips.

“what are you laughing about over there?”

you lean back against the headrest, smile still present. “we literally have two kids.”

“basically. but hey, there’s no one else i’d rather babysit two grown men with than you.”

“stop, i’m blushing,” you deadpan.

johnny’s shoulders shake with laughter at your sarcasm. “seriously, though! you really know how to take care of someone. one day, if i’m lucky enough, i’ll be able to see that up close.”

you know exactly what he means by that last statement—he was thinking of a future with you. the last thing you want to do is burst his bubble but you knew how your parents felt about your relationship. they thought you could do better than ‘some football player from your school’. they had friends with young, stuck up sons who, according to them, were more fit for you. despite being told countless times how happy johnny made you, they paid you no mind.

you nod, sincerely. “i hope so.”

he places his hand on your thigh, rubbing reassuring circles into your skin. you stay like that for the entire drive.

once you finally reach your destination, you leave all doubt and anxiety surrounding your relationship with johnny in the car along with any other negativity. the flashing lights and loud music you could hear even from outside the club excites you and you’re left with no choice but to discard all of your worries. you never got tired of seeing the glowing, neon sign letting you know that you had arrived at the hottest hang out spot there was—the neo zone.

as soon as you step inside, sicheng’s face contorts in displeasure. “i’m, uh, going to the bathroom.” he carelessly pushes past strangers, clutching his stomach.

you notice jaehyun has disappeared as well. before you can ask, you spot him on the dance floor, inserting himself in some line dance he obviously isn’t familiar with. his limbs move awkwardly and completely out of sync with the rest of the group. he recieves multiple strange looks and you can’t help but cringe.

“where did we go wrong with them?”

johnny’s laugh can hardly be heard over the booming bass of a song. “couldn’t tell you that, sugar. let’s just hope the next ones come out better.”

there he goes again, talking about your oh-so-promising future. you were still unsure if you would be able to grant johnny the picture perfect life he constantly spoke about. whenever he referenced it, you felt slightly guilty.

instead of acknowledging his comment, you glance around, looking anywhere but him. “want to get a drink?”

he simply nods, placing his hand in the small of your back as you weave your way through the crowd to the bar.

he leans on the counter and orders, “one long island iced tea, please.”

“you know my order?” you ask, pleasantly surprised.

“sweetheart, you get it everytime we come here. and that’s often.”

you still beam at him. “it’s still nice. you know, that you notice those things.”

“everything about you is worth noticing. besides, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t?”

you press a quick kiss to his cheek to show him how grateful you are.

“you really have to work on your aim because you completely missed your target that time.” he teasingly taps his lips.

you roll your eyes with a giggle. “never satisfied, are you, suh?”

“you owe me, just sayin’.”

“oh yeah?”

“totally! i let you sit shotgun!”

“i was the only thing standing in the way of sicheng throwing up all over your dashboard, you should be thanking me!”

johnny presses a kiss to your lips. it’s so unexpected yet enjoyable that you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering shut in bliss. he only pulls away to take a breath of air.

he licks his lips. “how was that?”

you brush imaginary dust off your skirt. “probably the best ‘thank you’ i’ve ever received.”

“says you. i can't get enough of those lips of yours.”

you fiddle with your belt. “nobody's stopping you from getting your fill.”

“you’re going to be the death of me, young lady.”

seconds later, the bartender slides you your drink. “here’s your drink, young lady.” he gives johnny a knowing smile and not-so-subtle thumbs up. “what a pretty little thing you got there.”

you know his words aren’t meant for your ears so you avert your eyes and take small sips of your drink.

“thank you, sir. i couldn’t agree more.”

“you know, me and my wife met in this club. just like you two.”

“we’ve actually known each other for a couple years.”

the man’s eyes widen in surprise. “well, look at you. already ahead of the game. you love her?”

johnny doesn’t hesitate to nod. “very much. the only issue is her folks don’t seem to be too crazy about me. they have a long list of suitors, myself excluded.”

you frown and trace the rim of your glass. that never got any easier for you to hear.  

the man nods, understandingly. “i see. well, in that case, you might have to wait. you said you love her and until you get to be together—which you will—keep loving her. that’ll make the time you spend waiting go by like this.” he snaps his fingers to prove his point.

johnny nods, a genuine smile appearing on his face. “i appreciate the advice. thank you.”

the bartender gives him a curt nod and goes back to tending to the other demanding customers.

before johnny gets a chance to say anything, you ask, “do you wanna dance with me?”

his grin widens. “always.”

you take his hand in yours and lead him to the dance floor. it’s full, as always, multiple bodies pressed up against each other. you waste no time joining in.

your hands end up on his broad shoulders, fingers toying with the hair on the nape of his neck and his grip ends up on your hips. the songs played at club neo zone always had a strong bass and energetic vibe so you both match that rhythm, moving to the intense heartbeat of the music. you gaze up at johnny, admiring his good looks even under the glow of the disco lights that colored him shades of bright pink, blue and green.

“what are you looking at, pretty girl?”

“just your face. i like it.”

he hums. “mm, i’m glad. i do too.”

“like my face?”

“no, mine.”

you shove his shoulder, playfully.

he chuckles. “you know i’m joking. you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.”

you suddenly find your shoes to be very interesting and stare down at them, smiling sheepishly.

“c’mon, don’t get all shy on me now.”

you giggle. “quit it.”

he glides his hands up and down your sides. “i’m serious, darling. it must’ve taken all my luck to get you.”

“i could say the same thing. there’s no one i’d rather be with than you, john.”

his dimples appear at the compliment and he goes in for a bear-like hug. he cradles your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head as both you sway.

“i’m gonna marry you.”

you’re not sure what about this statement catches you most off guard. maybe it’s the way that there’s no teasing tone in his voice or perhaps the fact that he has decided to say this in the middle of the dance floor, of all places.

you catch your lower lip in between your teeth. “i’m sorry we have to wait.”

“i’ll wait forever, babygirl, if that’s what it takes. and so what if your parents don’t want that. if one day you’ll let me wake up next to you and have a family with you, i’ll be happy.”

you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach at his sweet words. “i can't wait.”

with the hope of a future together, you and johnny happily dance the rest of the night away. once the party dies down and the crowd shrinks with every song that passes, your bodies are left sweaty and tired. you agree it’s time to go home.

you spot jaehyun in the back of the club and it takes a lot of effort to drag him off his latest girl interest. he blows her kisses as you yank him away, promising her a phone call in the morning. you’re pretty sure he’s lying.

sicheng is found passed out in the restroom, snoring heavily.

“has he been here this whole time?” you ask with a grunt as you attempt to hoist him up.

johnny shrugs as he helps you lift. “i find it's better to not ask questions.”

you nod in agreement. “fair.”

the car ride is silent mostly thanks to sicheng being knocked out. jaehyun sits quietly as well, staring out the window. johnny decides to drop them off first. you stop in front of the jung residence. as you watch the brunette struggle to open the door with one hand and hold sicheng’s unconscious figure in the other, you can’t help but wonder, “is it really a good idea to leave him with jae? i mean, that’s like telling a toddler to look after an infant.”

“if i left him at his house i’m pretty sure his old man would ground him for the rest of his life. jae’s folks are always out of town.”

with that reassurance, you drive off, your next destination being your house. johnny parks exactly where he did at the beginning of the night, just to be safe.

he rests his hands on the steering wheel. “want me to walk you?”

you shake your head. “that’s alright. if i get caught, i’d rather it not be with you. i’d never hear the end of it.”

“yeah, i get it. one day, though, we won’t have to worry about it.” as if to promise you his words are true, he hands you his letterman jacket. it was his prized possession and he was never seen without it. “here, take this. wear it when i can't be with you.”

you nod, clutching the clothing item close to your chest. “i will.”

he leans over as far as his seatbelt allows him to give you the last kiss of the night. it ends too fast for the both of you. you exit his car and walk down the sidewalk towards your house.

johnny watches you through his rear view mirror and smiles to himself when he catches you pull on his jacket.

[depressedkakashihatake-fics]

Fond Memories

Hatake Kakashi (No Ship)

1563 Words

For: @caffeinatedshinobi

Spending his night out with friends was a rare occurrence, one that was meant to be treasured and remembered fondly on a bad day, or during the last precious moments of life.

Instead, Kakashi was trying to get drunk, and fast.

“Whoa slow down,” Gai’s hand came down over his glass, preventing him from shooting back his third cup of sake. “What is the rush, Rival? We’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“I don’t think ‘relaxing’ is a word that exists in Kakashi’s vocabulary,” Glaring over at Asuma, he huffs when his friend simply responds with a playful smile. “You know it’s true. Your idea of ‘relaxing’ is reading that book of yours.”

“That is relaxing for me,” He grumbled, though it was sort of a lie. Most days he just read his book because it was easy to do. It didn’t involve a lot of energy, no emotional investment since he knew what was going to happen, and it kept his mind occupied. “Fine, let’s do something ‘relaxing’ then. What’s relaxing?”

He looks to Kurenai for an answer. There’s no way he trusts whatever idea comes out of Asuma’s mouth, and he’s pretty sure Gai doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘relaxing’. The only time he relaxes at all is when he has a stick of dango in his hand.

Taking the hint, Kurenai leaned back in her chair and took a moment to think about the request. After a few minutes a small smile started to pull at the corner of her lips, meaning she had come up with an idea.

“Let’s share memories,” she leaned forward, her smile so big it could almost rival Gai’s regular toothy grin. “Talk about our favorite memory with our team. How about it?”

That didn’t sound nearly as exciting as she made it seem.

“Does anyone even have a favorite memory?” He asked, relaxing into his chair and watching as everyone turned to look at him. “What?”

“Surely you have a favorite memory of the time you have spent with your team, Rival,” There’s a worried look on Gai’s face.”A time when you looked at your students and couldn’t help but smile, or feel like everything was perfect for just a few minutes.”

Bold of Gai to assume he liked his students.

“Even if you aren't particularly fond of your students,” Good old reliable Asuma. He always seemed to know what was on Kakashi’s mind in moments like this, and he held no judgement unlike a certain Taijutsu expert currently gasping in disbelief. “There must be one moment where you looked at them and thought ‘huh, they’re not so bad’”

Not so bad?

That was possible, though he’d have to think about it to remember such a scenario since most of his memories with Team Seven involved endless headaches. Naruto being a constant pain in his ass, Sasuke being...well, Sasuke. Sakura was in there somewhere too but she didn’t stick out as much.

It was a downfall of not being a complete monster, but he appreciated that there was at least one normal person on his team. It was also a result of being the smartest out of the three, so he didn’t have to worry so much about her doing incredibly stupid shit.

He’d have to think really hard to come up with a fond memory that didn’t involve contemplated murder.

“Oh no, he’s making the thinking face.” Asuma’s voice cut through his thoughts, followed by Kurenai’s laughter and the distant sound of Gai asking him if he was alright.

He ignored it all, determined to find just one fond memory with his team of gremlins.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ichiraku Ramen

Not his favorite place to eat out at, but these days it was the one he saw the inside of the most. All thanks to one orange clad genin currently in the middle of screaming about how he’s going to be Hokage one day.

Quite the dream to have, for a kid who can’t keep his trap shut on a mission.

“You don’t believe me?” Taking his chopsticks, Naruto poked Sasuke in the nose. “It’s true. I’m going to be Hokage and i’m going to prove to the whole village that i’m the strongest there is.” 

“You might want to focus on learning how to throw a kunai properly first,” Sasuke swatted the chopsticks away from his face. “besides, what are you going to even do as Hokage? Make it a law that everyone has to eat at Ichiraku Ramen every day?”

He didn’t need to hear Naruto’s enthusiastic ‘yes’ to feel sick to his stomach. He was already eating more Ramen than he could handle. How Naruto survived on the stuff every day was beyond him. 

“I think the most important thing you’re forgetting here is that a Hokage should be a good leader,” Sakura spoke up. “How can you be a good leader when you can’t even get along with your own teammates?”

Point for Sakura, again.

So far she was winning in his ‘who gets to be my favorite’ competition.

Not that it was hard with teammates like hers.

“I can learn,” Naruto protested. “Besides, we have the best Sensei out of all of them! We’ll be the strongest in the village, all three of us.”

He can’t tell if Naruto is just being nice, or if he actually believed what he’s saying. If it’s the second one he has to question Naruto’s logic in calling HIM the best sensei in the village.

That title clearly went to Gai, but it might help that his students were less determined to put him in an early grave.

and that he had actually wanted to be a Sensei, unlike Kakashi.

“You’re not wrong there,” Sakura beamed. “Kakashi-Sensei’s far from perfect…” rude. “but he’s an amazing Sensei. Don’t you agree Sasuke-kun?”

Ok, he could forgive the rudeness for that one.

Turning his eyes towards Sasuke, he waited for a response to Sakura’s question. A smile pulled at his lips when he saw the Uchiha glaring over at him.

“He’s not terrible,” Sasuke admitted in a hushed tone. “I’ve learned from worse.”

It wasn’t the best compliment, but he was willing to take it.

“Hey, Sensei,” Naruto nudged him in the side. “You like teaching us, right? Showing us how to be the best shinobi in the village.”

How had he ended up with Minato-sensei 2.0 staring up at him with bright blue eyes and a smile that could melt any heart

Well, any heart that wasn’t his.

His heart and soul thrived off of being the guy that showed affection through insults and jabs. Probably not the best trait to have when one is a Jonin-sensei.

“Of course i like teaching you,” he turned his attention to the bowl of still untouched Ramen sitting in front of him. “There’s no other students dumb enough to get hit with the ‘thousand years of death’ twice.” 

No, he was not going to let Naruto live it down after he had successfully used his father’s goofy old attack on the kid again during training today.

“S-sensei…” Naruto’s head hit the counter, his voice full of shame and defeat.

Good.

He was getting too comfortable. Too chummy.

“Best Sensei maybe,” Sasuke grumbled beside them “biggest ass hole for sure.”

Well, at least they were starting to understand him. They couldn’t fully appreciate his personality if they thought he was just socially awkward. They needed to accept that their sensei was a bully just as much as they were.

It’s what made them all a perfect team, even if he did want to murder them all most days.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Smiling to himself, Kakashi turned his attention back over to Kurenai, who began to look very concerned as soon as he did.

“D-is everything ok?” She asked cautiously. “Did you come out of your thoughts in one piece.”

His friends were just as much ass holes as he was, and he loved them for it. 

“I thought of a fond memory,” he informed her, laughing to himself as he thought back to it once again. “I guess i do have one of those.”

Gai’s hand came down on his shoulder hard, shoving him forward suddenly and forcing him to reach out and grab hold of the table for support.

“That’s great, Rival!” Gai’s voice boomed in his ear. “Tell us! What is this fond memory of your team you found?”

“Mmmm, i don’t think I will,” there’s a sense of pride that bubbles up inside of him when all three of his friends slam their hands down on the table in protest. “It’s my memory to enjoy all on my own.” 

“You can’t just…” Asuma’s words devolve into a string of nonsense while Gai starts screaming about ‘youthful passion’ and ‘rivalry’. Meanwhile, Kurenai just leans back into her chair with a groan and closes her eyes, clearly done with the entire situation.

This.

This was relaxing for him.

Annoying all of his friends with little to no effort and watching them react with a variety of different emotions.

This is why he hung out with them.

Because they made his life interesting, and they never got so used to his trolling horrible ways (As Asuma liked to refer to it) that they stopped reacting.

This is what he loved about these three and he never wanted it to change.

[kellbellsparkles]

Chapter 3 of my Ratchet and Clank fanfic called Family

Ratchet and Talwyn lead a cozy domestic life alongside Clank until tuning into the news one morning changes everything

Morning had come. Clank stood staring out the window still, unmoving, never having settled down. He peered emptily into the parting clouds; they were still murky from the storm.

"I told you to call a plumber."

Talwyn's voice snapped him out of his daze. He hopped off the windowsill and ventured downstairs to investigate.

In the kitchen, Ratchet had gotten himself into a predicament in an attempt to fix the inner workings of the kitchen sink. Talwyn stood over him, shaking her head.

"It doesn't matter that you're a Lombax," she sighed. "The plumbing here isn't designed to be handled by your beef hands. Now you're completely stuck."

"I suppose this is what Jarmin meant by being trapped," Ratchet chortled. "He meant literally."

"You could've avoided your "fortune" if you'd just listen to me in the first place," Talwyn chided.

Clank trotted by Talwyn's feet. He gazed worryingly at Ratchet.

"Oh dear," he said. "Are you alright, Ratchet?"

"Yeah yeah," Ratchet said in a tired tone. "I'm fine. Genius me went and lodged my fingers in between the pipes."

"Does it hurt?" Clank blurted as he felt his center knot up.

"Nah. At least not right now. Could you grab the dish soap and rub it on my fingers for me?"

"Of course."

Clank used his helipack to fly up to the counter to grab the Squeaky Scrubby dishsoap. He flew back down and crawled into the sink cabinet beside Ratchet. He popped open the bottle and squirt some on his finger tips. He pressed them against where Ratchet had lodged himself. After a few wiggles, Ratchet successfully pulled free.

"Whew," he breathed as he stood up again. "There we go. Thanks, pal."

"You are welcome, Ratchet."

Ratchet gave a goofy smile to Talwyn, but she had her arms crossed still.

"Come on, honey," Ratchet cooed. "Problem solved."

"I hope this teaches you that you can't fix everything," Talwyn said.

"Doing things myself when I have the skills is time and cost effective. You appreciate the beverage serving massage chair I put together, don't you?"

"I feel like you're missing the point, but yes, I do."

"Now let's go have our breakfast served with classic white noise."

"Can I choose the TV station this time? I can only stomach so much "If you think if I can build it" before I fall asleep."

"Well, the "History of planetary land formations" puts me straight to sleep."

"How about we just put the news on instead?"

"That's even worse."

"But we can both mutually hope that they turn their attention to how the galaxy is actually prospering."

"Yeah, true."

Clank watched as Ratchet and Talwyn headed into the TV room. They were so in love. It warmed his soul to see them living happily, yet he felt a strong sting in his insides. He held his stomach area similarly to when an organic being experiences nausea. The newer sensation confused and scared him, especially since he couldn't place a cause.

"Welcome back to Main City Central News," a female terachnoid news reporter echoed from the television. "Today we top of with "should we wear helmets as we drive"? Are seatbelts enough to keep us safe from reckless road rage? We bring you to Jerry Buckingham who's stationed at our busiest intersection. Jerry, what can you tell us about this developing debate?"

The TV footage cut to a male kerchu reporter wearing a combat helmet.

"Oh wow," Ratchet cackled. "They have a kerchu on their crew? There's a headline right there. Kerkercachuuuu." Talwyn giggled along with him.

"I for one am all for a head protectant mandate," Jerry bellowed in a high pitched squeal. "Reckless and distracted driving is the leading cause of death across the universe, and don't think that parking lots are an exception. No siree, 70% of reported accidents happen right then and there because we let our guard down."

"I'm confident that's an exaggeration," Talwyn commented.

"And don't even get me started on drivers tossing their unwanted do-hickeys out their windows onto unsuspecting pedestrians," Jerry huffed. "We're not talking about paper cups and cigarette butts. They could be dropping blunt and heavy metal objects for all we know! Criminal organizations could be dumping their body bags and speeding away in the confusion! Heck, a portal could open above my head right now and send a dead or alive person crashing onto the tip of my skull!"

"And I'm confident he needs help," Ratchet said.

Suddenly, as if right on cue, the sound of a tear in the time space continuum rattled the speakers. A portal opened several feet above Jerry's head. Edith fell through it, screeching as she careened towards his head. She instinctively sprung her arms out to cushion her fall. Her hands grasped the top his head, flopping him right onto his back with Edith sprawled on top of him.

"HELMETS SAVE LIVES!!" Jerry screamed in a muffled tone.

Ratchet and Talwyn were on the edge of their seats, eyes wide and shocked at what they just saw.

"What the…." was all Ratchet could say. Talwyn gasped as she looked closely at the woman who fell through the portal.

"Ratchet, that's a--"

The TV cut back to the terachnoid reporter.

"Is that a lombax?" She said. "Do we have confirmation yet?"

Ratchet sprung off the couch.

"Lombax??" he shrieked. "LOMBAX???"

Ratchet's panic shook Clank off his feet. He landed flat on his behind.

"Oh dear!" he yelped. "What is happening?" Suddenly, he felt himself thrust up into Ratchet's arms.

"Come on!" he shouted. "We got to get over there before the reporters and tabloids swarm the place!"

Talwyn hurried right behind him. As he was hoisted on Ratchet's back, Clank's eyes were wide with fear and anticipation for what's to come. His whole body froze over and all he could feel was the weight in his stomach grow heavier.

[mysterioh]

Saajan Ji Ghar Aaye - Chapter One

Bucky Barnes x Desi!Reader

Synopsis: After a brisk romance in London, Bucky follows you back to your home in Upstate New York where the preparations for your marriage to the son of a family friend are well underway. As the inevitable countdown to your wedding begins, Bucky remains optimistic in his pursuit of your love and your family’s acceptance.

Arranged Marriage/Forbidden Lovers AU

“Saajan Ji ghar aaye” means “your beloved has come to your home”.

Masterlist

I. Koi Mil Gaya

Koi Mil Gaya. Mera Dil Gaya. 

There’s a peculiar charm to airports. The continuous hum of cheerful chatter, luggage wheels rolling softly on shining white tiles, and cell phones ringing create a lively atmosphere. The pungent aroma of coffee beans wafting from cafe stalls brings the comfort and warmth of home to a junction where different parts of the world connect.

It’s late in the afternoon. The sun pours through the large ceiling to floor windows that curve around the place.  Streams of people flow through the terminal building while others sit in the lounge, either excited or bored.

"Oho, Ummi, I'll be fine,"  you groaned on the phone, pulling your carryon as you made your way to the gate. "I've been on a plane before.”

Ummi replies with a snarky remark, but you know she's just worried underneath it.

“Okay, maybe not alone, but how hard can it be? I’ll be fine. Stop worrying,” you replied. Ummi releases a deep sigh and hands the phone over to your father. "Hello? Abbu?" you said, "Hanji, main thik hu. Hanji, hanji, sab kuch meray paas hi hai.”

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"  Abbu asks one last time just to make sure.  

You sigh deeply. "Yes, I promise. I’ll be fine. It's a direct flight to London. I just have to get on the right plane. That's it.”

Unfortunately, your word wasn’t enough for him. He goes on to lecture you about the dangers of the airport with the classic “young girls shouldn’t be traveling alone” spiel.  After hearing the very same lecture for years, reiterated with a new subject matter so many times, it automatically goes through one ear and out the other.

You knew he meant well. He always did. Every step he took had the wellbeing of his family in mind. But sometimes he overdid it; and it was those certain moments that made you cringe.  

Your ears perked up when the PA system spoke overhead. “Passengers for Flight 9B4 to London, please go to Gate 36.”

"Abbu, I’ll talk to you later!” you exclaim. “They're calling my flight. I gotta go. Bye!"  You hang up on him before he can say anything with a mischievous grin. 

You speed walk down the terminal, using the overpass with directions as a guide. Another announcement has you running through the crowds, slightly pushing and whispering sorries as you do. By the time you get to the gate you’re a heaving mess. You give your boarding pass to the gate agent while bending over to catch your breath.

“Made it just in time,” she chirped with an amused smile.

You reply with a breathy laugh, unable to say a word.

Damn, I’m out of shape.

She verifies your boarding pass and hands it back. “Enjoy your flight.”

You thank her before entering the air bridge and into the plane. A gorgeous blond attendant at the door greets you warmly then guides you up the aisle towards the first class seats. You find your seat by the window. Slipping your carryon into the overhead compartment, you take your seat then pull out your phone to message your dad about successfully getting on the plane.

From the corner of your eye, you see a guy lifting his bag to place it in the compartment above. The hem of his shirt hovers just above his waist as he stretches, showing the band of his Calvin Klein boxers and a teaser of what seems to be a very sculpted torso.

You whip your head towards the window, embarrassed by yourself for looking at him.  You hear the seat next to you dip and groan inwardly. You give him a side glance as he rustles through his backpack for something.

His side profile is gorgeous. Short, fluffy brown locks just begging your fingers to run through them. A perfectly straight nose and a sculpted jaw.

A phone notification forces you to look away. It's a message from Abbu wishing you safe travels. A grin spreads on your face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 9B4 with service from New York to London," the head attendant announces.

"Mind if I squeeze this right here?" he says, already pushing his bag between your legs and his.

I mean you already did?

"Yeah, that's fine," you reply.

"Thanks," he grins.

"We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and please turn off all electronic devices, including laptops and cellphones," the attendant drolls. "Thank you for choosing British Airways. Enjoy your flight."

You listen to her directions and securely strap yourself in. You take a deep breath and relax into your seat as the plane begins to move.

"Nervous?"

You turn over to find the guy looking at you with a goofy smile.

"No," you replied, a bit harsher than you intended to.  

"I was just asking," he chuckles. "I'm nervous."

"First time?" You asked.

"No," he denied with a shake of the head. "I always get nervous. You never know what can happen y'know? Like what if the engine bursts when we're over the ocean? We're all fucking screwed."

He had a point and it was a plausible fear, but what decent human being would actually come out and say it while the plane was taking off?

You look at him completely dumbfounded.

"Didn't mean to scare you."

Your lips contort into a pout. "I'm not afraid."

He shrugs. "Looks like you are."

"Well, I'm not," you affirm.

"Alright, so when the plane takes a nosedive into the ocean, I'll count on you to save me 'cause I'm going to be scared out of my mind."

"I'm not going to save you," you reply flatly.

"Ouch," he chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he does. "Whatever happened to being a Good Samaritan?"

"We'd both die instantly. There's no point in helping."

"Geez, you're depressing."

You fall back into your seat as the plane begins to rise.

"Oh, this is it," he announces with exaggerated excitement.

"Can you please be quiet?"

"Sorry," he whispers apologetically.

You look out the small window, watching the plane lift off the ground and rise into the sky.  Even as the engines rumbled and the ringing in your ears grew irritating, the scenery through the little window made your heart feel at ease. The clouds flowed constantly like sheets that stretched to the horizon.  As the wings sliced through the dense layer, a brilliant evening sun scattered a hazy pink over the clouds, leaving you in awe and admiration. The plane levels and sets on a steady course over the clouds.

You reach down into your handbag and pull out the novel you've been trying to finish.

"Is that the Kite Runner?" he asks.

"It is," you reply with a smile. The first time you've smiled in your short time with him and he has to admit it's a pretty one.

"That's a great book! I finished it in three days."

"Oh wow," you exclaimed, slightly embarrassed that it was taking you weeks. Not your fault though. You were busy.

"Yeah," he sighs, reminiscing a good memory. "I don't read many books, but that one," he points at the book in your hand. "It moved me to tears."

Your hand brushes over the cover. "Yeah, I like it so far. I love how flawed Amir is and how he strives to be better. It's so relatable."

"Yeah, it's so realistic," he replies. "I cried when he found out Hassan died."

"Hassan dies?" You gasped.

From the dumbfounded look on your face, he realizes that he's committed one of the greatest sins. "What? No!" He laughs nervously. "I meant Baba dies."

"Baba dies too?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Nobody dies. They all live—happily. They all live a happy ending."

He can feel a thousand curses shot in his way just by the way you're glaring at him.

"Aha," he laughs awkwardly. "I'll just shut up now."

"Good idea," you mumble.

"Would you two like anything?" The flight attendant asked.

"Uh, yeah I'll have some water," he replies then turns to you. "Do you–"

"No thank you," you replied curtly, opening up your book to where you left off.

Bucky takes the bottle from the attendant with a sheepish smile. He decides not to bother you anymore and pulls out his air pods to listen to some music that would hopefully lull him to sleep. He puts on his slow playlist then shifts into his seat until he feels comfortable. He closes his eyes, allowing the music to relax him and just as his consciousness begins to ebb, a heavy thud on his shoulder brings him back to reality.

He turns to find you fast asleep with your head resting against his shoulder.

Bucky couldn’t stop his lips from stretching into a wide grin. There's just something so intimate about someone —stranger or not— falling asleep on your shoulder that makes your heart flutter. It made his insides flip and a light blush scatter on his cheeks. He sits quietly, making sure not to move too much so he doesn’t wake you.  

Wide awake, he twiddles his thumbs, wondering what to do. He sees the book in your lap and slowly slips it out from underneath your hand. You wouldn't mind if he borrowed it. He flips to the first page and starts to read, delving deep into a distant world that rested in his hands.

As Bucky travels back to 1970’s Afghanistan through the memories of his flawed storyteller, Amir, a brilliant idea pops in his mind.

It's a stretch, but it might just work.

All he needs is a piece of paper and a pen.

"Farhan!" You wave in excitement.

"Y/N!" He shouts back, weaving through the crowd to get to you.

You jump into his arms and give your brother a tight hug.

"I've missed you so much!" you whined, shaking him from side to side.

"I've missed you too," he says, a chuckle coloring his words. You push him back to have a good look at him.

"You look kinda skinny," you comment, "have you been eating?"

Farhan rolls his eyes. "You sound like mom." He takes the suitcase by your side and pulls it along. "Now come on, let's get out of here."

Farhan was your mother's pride and joy. She loved all her children, but she loved him just a little bit more.

He was the trophy child of the family, and as the heir to one of the largest enterprises in the world, he had to be. He was the best in school, the best on the field, and had a magnetic personality that attracted crowds from miles away. If it wasn't his personality that attracted others it was his looks. He was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome with the most gorgeous hazel eyes that fringed with smooth green under the right light. You can't recall how many times your friends asked if he was single. As if you'd actually give them a chance with your brother.

After graduating from Oxford with an MBA degree, he decided to stay in England and work at the London branch of the company, honing his skills before he took his throne.

Farhan was perfect in every way and your parents wouldn't miss a chance to boast about him. He was the envy of the elite. His name was clear of scandals and only marked with achievement after achievement, raising the family name to soaring heights.

Only problem he had was that he refused to get married. He wouldn't even look at the pictures of girls your mother offered him. When she'd asked him why he didn't want to, he always had the same answer.

"They don't want me, they want my name."

Sometimes, you wished you had his boldness.

"How was the flight?" Farhan asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Good," you replied. You cringe from embarrassment, remembering how you slept on that guy's shoulder the entire flight.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you turn to look out the window, watching raindrops racing down the side of the window. "It's kind of weird sitting on this side of the car," you laugh.

He chuckles. "It is, but you get used to it after a while. How's the wedding going?"

You exhale deeply while leaning against the window. "I don't know, ask Ummi."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Ummi does everything. I just sit there and look pretty."

Farhan laughs from his stomach. "Why not tell her to ease back a bit?"

"I don't mind it,” you explained. “Honestly, I'm grateful. I can't plan shit, but I just wished she wouldn't talk about it so much."  

Farhan’s brows crease in confusion. “You’re not getting cold feet are you?”

“N-no!” you stammered. “It just gets me anxious, that’s all.”

He sighs, waiting at the light. “You bring it on yourself, Y/N,”

Your head whips towards him. “And what do you mean by that?”

“You try so hard to please everyone else, that you end up not caring for yourself."

“That’s not true—”

“We both know this wedding is only to please Abbu," he interjects with a sad chuckle. “You’re only marrying Ayan for him.”

You scoffed. “I’m marrying Ayan because I want to," you counter. “He’s sweet and really nice—”

“But do you love him?”

You fall back against the window with a sigh. “Farhan I don't want to talk about this," you mumbled.

"But don't you think you should?" He questions.

“Yeah, Abbu picked Ayan for me. So what about it?" you lectured, waving your hands around. "He's always done what's best for us. So what’s to say he won’t pick the one that’s the best for me?”

“But shouldn’t you be the one who knows what’s best for you? Not Abbu?” he contended, eyes fixated on the street. “You say you’re an independent adult, Y/N, but you’ve never stepped out from underneath his wing. You've never tried anything for yourself, it's always what he wants," he jabbed, hitting you harder than he had intended to.

You retreat to your window in defeat and shame.

“Hey," he whispers, shaking your arm. You don't look at him cause you might just cry; and that's one thing you'd never do in front of him. At least not anymore.

"I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I just worry about you sometimes," he confesses. "I want you to be happy doing what you want to do and not what others want from you."  

You turn just a little to peek over at him with a quaint smile. He smiles back, holding your hand tight. “This is what I want. Really it is. Don't worry."

He laughs in defeat. "Whatever you say, Aloo."

You smack his arm. "Don't call me that!"

You plop onto the bed after unpacking your bags. Farhan had to take a business call, leaving you to your own devices. You scroll through different apps, bored out of your mind and a bit sleepy.

A notification drops down.

Ayan

Have fun on your trip! Call me when you get the time. 😊

Your insides twist at the message and not in the excited, butterflies in your stomach kind of way. It’s more like a dreadful duty that you don’t want to do right now.

You swipe the notification away, promising yourself that you’d call him tomorrow, and decide you should go to sleep. You reach over for your bag on the bedside table to get your phone charger. You pull out the novel you quickly shoved inside before leaving the plane, and notice a paper sticking out at the top of the book. You raise a brow in confusion. You never had any bookmarks, and just folded the corners to save the page. You pulled it out and weren’t expecting a message.

Sorry about spoiling the book. Maybe I can make it up to you? If you’re staying in London, hit me up.  

917 - 569 - 2156

- Bucky

Translations:

“Hanji, main thik hu. Hanji, hanji, sab kuch meray paas hi hai.” - Yes, I’m fine. Yes, Yes, I have everything with me.

Aloo - Potato ( a nickname)

Taglist: @anjali750​ @desibarnes​ @regainedworld​ @saintsebastian-stan​

[laughing-with-god]

Hello! Can I request a bts reaction to them hitting you playfully but their kid sees that and think that they hurt you seriously so they defend you? I think this is pure and innocent, I hope you do it 🖤

I love this reaction request say less sis.....

JIN- Jin and you prided yourself on keeping a peaceful and family oriented household. Never has your daughter witnessed you guys even so much as raise your voices at each other. The only time you daughter has ever seen Jin pressed was when he uses his ajussi voice and complains over dramatically, but that only made her laugh.( she has her dads windshield laugh btw and fondness of puns). One late afternoon, you put your daughter down for a nap and went to talk to Jin about what to do for dinner.

“Why don’t you just pick up some chicken? Me and (D/n) have been craving it lately you know...” you said mindlessly while cleaning up the toys in the living room as Jin walked up behind you.

“Yah! Is there a problem with my cooking? How dare you?! After slaving over the open flame for my family, you tell me you prefer cheap take out?” Jin jokingly scolded you using his grandpa tone before he playfully shoved you on the shoulder.

The two of you hear a loud gasp before turning around and seeing your still sleepy daughter standing in the doorway, jaw hung open. Before you guys could comprehend anything, a small fireball of a toddler flew across the room and onto Jin’s shoulders, swinging her miniature fists onto her dads back.

“Daddy, you never hit a girl! You told me that!”

Jin whined as he struggled to get his kid off of him. You laughed at the scene before you while trying to explain to your daughter the situation.

“S-sweetie, mommy and daddy were just joking around. Daddy didn’t actually hurt me.”

You pried your daughter off as she calmed down. Of course you could depend on Jin to milk this for all it’s worth.

“Yah! I practically raised you on my back! Is this how you treat your old man?! I’m your elder you know!” He complained, making your daughter and you laugh.

Namjoon- it was a rainy Sunday morning and you and your family found no reason to leave the bed.

You were on your phone on your respective side of the bed while your man Namjoon was reading a book on his side, your three year old son slept between you two.

“Nammie....” You whined playfully.

Said man looked up from his book to cringe at you. He knew you only used that sickly nickname when you wanted something. “Yes, baby?”

“You should get up and make us some coffee.” He groaned, he really didn’t wanna leave the bed.

“Let’s play for it.” He said, holding up his hand to initiate a game of rock paper sissors. You laughed and played him, only to win when he pulled paper to your sissors. He groaned while you only cackled at his luck. When would he learn that you always won?

He closed his book and reached over to spank your butt before moving to get up from the bed. This is when your three year old chose to wake up, to the sound of a slap and looking over to see his mama rubbing her backside while hissing.

Your three year old decided to defend your honor. He grabbed the book and threw it at his father’s back.

“(S/n) what was that for?!” You asked, surprised at you toddlers viscousness

“He hit mama.” You three year old shrugged before flopping over and going back to bed.

You laughed while Namjoon grumbled that his son inherited your personality and that he was the punching bag of his own family.

Later though he told his son that he was right for protecting his mom. But that wouldn’t be needed against his own father for he would never hurt you two.

YOONGI- both you and Yoongi had sarcastic and dry senses of humor. Sometimes it was borderline crude and it was taking a while for you guys to learn how to censor yourself around your child. But this was to be expected of new parents and your child was only 7 months old.

Recently though, it was Yoongi who was doing a good job of watching what he said around his child. It was probably bc he was way more protective of his son than you were.

Your son was in the living room, practicing his crawling while you were entering from the kitchen, snack in hand. However, you ended up stubbing your toe against a piece of furniture and that’s when you colorful vocab decided to make an appearance.

“Fucking shit! What kind of cunt places stupid furniture here where anyone can walk into it?!” You yelled in pain.

Yoongi was sat at the couch and when he heard your cursing and curious stares from the baby, he reached over to flick your thigh from his place from the couch.

“Babe remember what there’s tiny ears here. We dont want his first word to be the C-word.” He monotonly lectured.

But what you child say was his dad reach over to do something to his mom and the cries of pain from you. The mini Yoongi decided to army crawl his way over to the scene and mindlessly swing at his dad (of course he could barely reach or even hurt him.)

Yoongi day there puzzled, watching his own son swing so hard that the baby fell down from his own strength. “Is he really trying to fight me right now?” He asked while you just shrugged and ate your snack while cheering your ass kicking baby as Yoongi sat there, weirded out by his own fam.

HOSEOK- it was no secret that Hoseok was the aeygo king. He often tried to use this cuteness to get what he wanted but sometimes it was useless on you. Simply put, you got used to it and thus immune. Like today for example, he was attempting to convince you to let him take your 8 year old daughter out to dance practice so she can have fun and dance with her uncles whom she hasn’t seen in a while.

If it was any other situation, you would’ve gladly said yes. Knowing how much your child loved the BTS members. But tonight was a school night, she had homework and you knew how late those dance practices could be.

“C’mon jagi~! I promise I’ll take her home early enough to do her homework and be in bed for school tommorow. Jimin and Tae even said they have gifts for her. You won’t deprive them of seeing her, would you?” He cutely argued, playfully hitting you in an effort to be adorable.

You laughed and was about to make a compromise of letting her go on the condition that you pick her up early when you a tiny body came between you and your husband.

“Daddy, I know you want me to go but that’s no excuse to hit mommy.” You daughter crossed her arms and maturely scolded her own dad. You and Hoseok held in your laughs while the both of you decided to play along.

“But sweetie, maybe if your mom didn’t try to keep you from the gifts your uncles have waiting for you, then I wouldn’t feel the need to defend your honor.” He dramatically droned while placing an offended hand onto his chest as he faked tears in his eyes. Now, your kid turned against you and was ready to argue against you too now that potential toys were on the line.

“Okay! Okay! You can go but I want her home by 7:30!” You gave up while laughing at the noisy rambles of your husband and daughter whose tactics were all to similar. (Him winking at you as his daughter switches sides)

JIMIN- Work hard, play hard. This was the park family motto. Jimin and you were practically kids yourself so instead of dishing out rules and being strict when your twin boy and girl made a mess, you guys were more likely too join in on the fun. Neither of you were the type to put an end to your kids playtime.

But what started out as a playful battle had now turned into an all out war. The kitchen was a mess and clean appliances were lost as well as family ties and loyalty.

“I loved you!” You dramatically cried, peeking over a dirty toaster. Jimin grinned evilly as his daughter provided him with more amo. She was always a daddy’s girl...

“I’m sorry Jagi. But you know I have to do this....”. Jimin told you, expression tender-hearted before he threw a handful of sloppy kimichi at your head, successfully sticking it to your hair.

A war cry was heard behind you and your son came rushing to the battlefield, you biggest ally had arrived.

“Mom! Don’t worry I got you!” He screamed while shooting his dad with a major game changer in this food fight; a water gun.

You grinned while closing in on your little girl while her dad was busy getting attacked by your son. You smiled as you watched your little soilder defend you before you snatched the little girl up, tickling her to the point of tears.

(GIF after he was sprayed with water, just watching his crackhead family)

TAEHYUNG- Tae has always been a protective man. Being his wife you knew how seriously he took the safety of his loved ones. A goofy and dorky Tae can switch into a scary and intimating man if someone ever tried to hurt you or made you uncomfortable. You witnesssed this after being cat-called once after your third date. Scary, indeed...

Although when you finally gave birth to a son (first of five kids, Tae swore) you never thought those two paths of scary Tae and fluffy Tae would cross given he was now a family man. At least, never would he switch in front of you child.

So imagine your surprise when you walked in on you husband lecturing you 5 year old boy about what it means to be the proctor of the family.

“He’s five, you psycho!!!” You had yelled at him.

“He needs to know when to protect his own mother and potentially his younger siblings” Tae had deadpanned.

You two dropped the argument but it later came up when you as a family were at the ice cream shop. You had asked your son to go get some napkins, knowing how messy eaters your boys were when Tae threw up his hood and came up from behind you, masking his face.

“What the fuck are you doing you literal crackhead?” You asked but Tae only shushed you and gave you a light but still powerful shove. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to set you back a little bit.

“Yah!” Your son came up and kicked the hooded man on the shin.

“Congratulations son! You passed your test.” Tae pulled the hood down and turned to face your son.

You enrolled your family into group therapy after this.

(GIF of him preparing to ‘attack’ you)

JUNGKOOK- your husband was a muscle pig. But when you had given birth to a beautiful baby girl, you had hopes that it would soften up his seemingly steroid headass. Boy, were you wrong.

You daughter grew up to take the traits of Jungkook. She had more interests in boxing than she did in dresses or dolls. She would even go to the gym with Jungkook and try to ‘bulk up’ which was outrageous to you.

So instead of having tea parties like you had kinda hoped, your daughter and Jungkook had wrestling matches. Right now, they were currently in one.

Jungkook playfully pinned his girl down and told her to try to get out of his hold. You rolled your eyes, this was their new thing. He would put her in weird holds and tell her to find a way out of it. It was ‘self defense practice’ as Kook called it. She loosened his grip and was able to turn over, but not enough to completely get out of his hold. Thus, they started rolling around in your living room. You heard her squeal and your motherly instincts came up when you thought it could’ve been from pain. You came closer to the rolling duo, trying to break them apart when a beefy forearm slapped you across the face.

“Yah! You hit mommy!” You daughter yelled before forming a fist and hitting her dad on the shoulder before jumping up and coming to you to check your ‘injury’.

Jungkook sat there, dazed and confused. Before apologizing to you and telling your daughter that she packed a good punch.

(GIF of him looking messed up after the fight)

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[foolscapper]

Exploding Head Syndrome: A MCU Post-IW Fanfic | Ch. 1

(READ IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER.)

It takes two years for them to right everything. Two long years — most of it spent in chaotic shades of tears, screaming, silent defeat, and a very unsuccessful five stages of grief for everyone involved. It's a world where billions of people have all had their candle wicks pinched in tandem between ugly purple fingers, their lights gone out in the pits of their mourning loved one's stomachs. There was not enough time in the day for funerals, not enough room or money for smoothed gravestones, and far too many people that will never, ever be identified as dead. Those people, the ones without families and friends, they simply never existed. Perhaps in the backgrounds of neighborhood photos they weren't meant to be a part of, but ultimately? They are vagabonds who just blew away in the wind.

And those who did have people left behind, who mourned and prayed for them?

They were just memories on walls.

Nobody from their team of heroes took their noses out of books or their eyes off screens, carving out new and old information on celestials, on resurrection, on righting the wrongs done by an arrogant bastard who decided to snap his fingers and purge the universe of any happiness; that same purple bastard had vanished without another word, and Thor had paced through the Avengers headquarters those first days with guilt etched into the lines of his weary face. His brown and blue set of eyes looked into Tony's, and his lips had pulled into something of a haunted grimace, and he said with no ounce of doubt, "This could have been over, had I aimed for the head."

The half of the Asgardians that Thanos had spared came to earth just a few months after; they filled in the broken pieces of a fractured glass Wakanda that had been devastated by the loss of their king. It was an intellectual gathering, more than anything, a concoction of mad sciences that would yield more together than apart. Steve Rogers kept in touch with them, eyes and ears waiting to be sated by something fruitful, about Thanos and his whereabouts.

They didn't need flip phones because they lived down the hallway from each other, and sometimes when Tony wasn't pouring through information with Bruce, he was letting the captain talk his ear off about world news that might matter if Tony would let it. With every passing day, the Sokovia Accords became a relic, something from the old world. The fight in Germany almost didn't feel real anymore. But it was, and it had been the catalyst in meeting a young man from Queens who loved Alt-J and Star Wars.

The scroll bar on the missing children's pages Tony's accrued is so tiny, he can barely see it on his screen. He sits there at the kitchen table while Morgan sits on his lap and slams blocks around like a tiny radioactive dinosaur. And he's tired and regretful as every face seems to blur and morph into Peter's (his goofy shirts, his awful Mets hat, the fifth Jansport backpack that month). Pepper makes Tony coffee, rubs his shoulders, makes breakfast for their daughter. He looks at both of them every day and reminds himself he doesn't deserve them.

Rhodey brings updates from Ross, as an exasperated courtesy more than anything.

Tony also cares very fucking little about that, too. Natasha is in full agreement.

Oh, and the raccoon stuck around, too. Two years, and Tony Stark made friends with a kleptomaniac trash panda who lost almost every person he's ever come to love, and the blue chick might as well be counted among the lost, because she hit the atmosphere running and never stopped (but if there's anyone Tony would bet on for killing Thanos through hate alone, Nebula might be able to accomplish it before supper). Rocket heads out from time to time to try and find clues in the deep reaches of space — "Where's Thanos? Have you seen where he ran off to? Where's that ugly son of a b—" And you know, it ends about as successfully as the last time the little garbage bear rolls back in. Truth be told, he likes Rocket a lot. Good eye for tech, familiar snark used to push people away, a raging hate-boner for a certain mass murderer...

Ah, yes. The bastard who sacrificed his daughter, go fucking figure. Tony looks at Morgan's freckled face as he changes the umpteenth diaper that day and can't fathom the concept of being her end. It's horror fiction, the pages ripped out of books conjured to be nothing more than a terrible daydream of a bored writer. 

It's the same horror fiction where Peter clings to him sobbing for help, falling when his legs disintegrate underneath him. 

Tony looks for that kid everywhere, despite knowing exactly where he is.

He waves the photograph in Pepper's face, inches from her, the sharp juts of his fingernails biting into the Polaroid like dog teeth — (retroware, a camera found in a dumpster, delicately and lovingly re-mantled into a working camera, pictures snapped in quiet labs on lazy Sundays where Tony pretends the kid shouldn't be there) — but Pepper just looks at him like he's a wild man, and maybe he is, with owlish imploring eyes and unkempt hair, but nobody is listening, they just talk about their day and nobody is looking at this kid in this photograph: the kid with the curvy brown hair and pinching, smiling eyes and thin lips, he's only a kid, he's missing, does nobody see that? But Pepper just puts her hands up at the sides of her head and shrugs like he's out of his mind, and she's talking about being behind schedule —

"Tony, honey, there's nothing there — I don't know what you want me to see." And she is getting progressively more furious at him, because there's nothing, but he can clearly see this teenaged boy's face looking back at him when he turns the image back to himself: he's in the lab, Tony took the picture (say cheese, and the kid said provolone, because he's a massive nerd, but Tony would have done it too, so what does that make him), and no, Peter's not in the lab, he's not anywhere. Not in the ground, not in an urn, not standing on his feet, not stuck to his hands.

"No. No no no, look at him, why - why are you not looking at him?" Tony asks, curled fingers pecking over the shirt on his chest, right where his blue heart used to be, and he's so fucking angry that Happy said it Pepper said it Steve said it Everyone says it, the same thing, different voices: "It's a black box, Tony. It's just a black box. The picture's not developed. Something got screwed up, sorry."

He looks at the photo again and wants to see a black box, wants this to just end, but he knows it can't. In the Polaroid, the kid is tied to a chair in sweltering heat in the middle east, under the shadow of cave walls, streaked with mud and blood and wet from torture, and Tony has it on good authority the human body was not made to live in the sea, not made to breathe the deep dark waters in a two-foot basin of murky water. But Pepper looks right through the photo every time and asks him if he's remembered to water the ugly office plant she put on his desk — he shoves it off and it smashes all over, dirt underfoot crunching with the same texture as Titan. The desk is covered in nothing but Polaroids of every waking fear he's had, but they all swear on their lives—

"They're all just black boxes."

He wakes up with a strangled sound of panic, the sheets ripped out from under Pepper's soft pale arms, and she darts awake alongside him with little choice in the matter. He isn't sure how to even begin to explain the nightmare, so he doesn't, which seems adequate enough for her at this point; she instead rakes kind fingernails over his scalp and he lets himself rest in his own sweat, until eventually it dries up with her ability to stay awake with him. But there's no sleeping now. Which is fine, because not an hour later Morgan's crying in a crib that Tony doesn't let leave their room. She's smart — not quite two yet, but she's got an eye for how to get what she wants. She slaps her hands on the bars like she's a chubby convict and says, "Juice!" like she hasn't already had enough juice in the day to turn into a berry.

"... I got her," he says with feigned exasperation, but more than anything, he just wants to hold onto the kid and remind himself she won't crumble into dust. He walks her through the hallways and stares out large windows, places where the memory of Peter Parker ghosts the halls in Tony's mind. He stands where Peter watched in boyish awe as the jets took off — where he'd lead him down a path towards reports and a new suit. Regrets dance like spots in his vision. Run along now, young buck. 

He misses the others, too. He thinks about them often, wants to get them back from the jaws of death.

But everyone knows Peter is a special case, for him. A special mission set aside to complete.

There's an aunt across the city that somehow manages to get up and go to work every day. She's all that's left of a family she'd married into — the last Parker, putting unopened Christmas and birthday presents in a room that hasn't been touched in two fucking years. Tony doesn't know how she does it, after the Parkers and her husband's death; perhaps it's not always the abundance of loss that breaks someone; perhaps it's the abundance of loss that helps steel them for the next blow.

Either way, he gives her as many promises as he can muster, and she just nods like she can actually trust him.

"If it isn't the terrible terror," Rocket slurs from the end of the walkway, as he rounds the bend. Tony can't believe his eyes; he's sure there must be some youtube video out there of a raccoon holding a vodka bottle, but seeing it in person is another thing altogether. The short-statured creature adds, "Not the gremlin baby, I mean you."

"Robbet!" Morgan says, gleeful and unaware of just how alike her and Rocket's walking performances would be toe-to-toe. 

Tony is less enthused.

"Did you — Did you fly back drunk?" And really, he's not one to talk after some of the stunts he pulled in his suits, but when he looks out the window there's a clearly tipped over spaceship on the front lawn of the headquarters, almost meeting the tarmac where the quinjet resides. 

Rocket wags a paw at him like he's nuts. "Seemed like the thing to do. You Terran nimrods are great at it."

"You could've hit the building, you jackass," he hisses, "There are people sleeping here you could've killed."

"Wouldn't be the worst way to go out on this stupid planet."

"You're so lucky I'm holding a toddler, or I'd kick you in the head."

"Bring it, old man." But the longer the squabbling goes, the more Rocket seems to completely lose whatever steam he has. They end up sitting right against the big glass windows, and Tony lets Morgan rub her grubby hands all over the panels, because he's pretty sure the cleaners here prefer her messes over the ones Tony leaves in the labs (you know, the ones that almost start fires). The kid eases something inside him, and he's not one to recommend having a kid as therapy (because it definitely didn't solve his panic over being a shit dad), but it at least keeps him grounded. Gives him perspective. Focus.

"Robbet," she commands, fidgeting with Rocket's ear. The raccoon's gotten used to the attention, so much so that he just lets it be, and Tony watches expectantly for words he knows are gonna come sooner or later. This isn't the first time Rocket's stumbled in like this, though he'd hesitate to say it's common enough for an AA meeting. 

"Nothin's out there, Stark," he says tiredly. "Thanos is in the wind after we pinned him in the rice terraces. Nebula's out there givin' her... I was gonna say blood, sweat, and tears, but I dunno how much of her is even left t'do that. But the universe is too damn big." He rubs his eyes tiredly in a way that is obscenely human. "We ain't ever gonna get the bastard, much less reverse the damage. I can't keep putting off..."

"Mourning?"

Rocket and Tony lock eyes for a moment, the billionaire's face unreadable.

Rocket looks away, and for once, he can't usher up a snarky, assholish retort. 

"Mourning."

And Tony could understand that much. The world has already been grieving and crying it out, but the Avengers? They haven't allowed themselves to do it. Scott's got his kid, and he's all his kid has now — the cops had found her wandering a park alone, crying for Ant-Man to save them, and Tony's paid for therapy but fuck if that always helps. Clint refuses funerals for the two children he and his wife lost, not until Tony can look him in the eye with complete certainty and say 'there's nothing else we can do'. And Tony is not gonna lie about that shit, not even for a moment. Steve always chases for Bucky, and Tony expects as much (both in a fond way, and in a resentful way that makes him wanna strangle the bastard; what, we can't all be perfect at making up)... He also talks about Wanda and Vision and Sam often, and the room always descends into pained silence by the time they both realize how many people they've lost.

"Sorry I called you a gremlin," Rocket suddenly says, and Tony's confused for a moment before he glances over and finds Morgan sitting between Rocket's legs, cupping his furry face in her hands like she's trying to figure out why his beard is so much more out of control than her father's. Suffice to say, the drunk raccoon eventually passes out against the window, and Natasha makes her cameo in the shaded moonlight long enough to click her tongue and heft the creature up. Usually it'd be a more violent affair, but he's so out cold, he doesn't even so much as twitch.

"I'll get him in the recovery position, I guess," she says with a quirk of her brow. 

One time he'd asked her in a moment of admittedly godawful anger how she managed to be a stone-faced robot in the wake of all of this; she had slammed him down onto a table and said it was the hardest thing someone can ever do.

"Could always throw him into a tree," is his reply, and she smirks — but tucks Rocket in, regardless.

They're all he's got now.

Two weeks later, Captain Marvel gives them the location of Thanos.

One week after, Thanos is dead and Bruce and Tony are staring at the melted, twisted remains of a gauntlet adorned with six stones.

It's a full month, when the snap is finally undone.

"W-what the flying fuck just happened?"

Probably not the most eloquent way Peter Jason Quill, Star-Lord and fearless leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy, could have reclaimed his life and body, but that's the way it happened. One moment his sinking despair had been blown away in the wind with the rest of his crumbled body; the next, he's gasping for air like a newborn baby with his hands on his chest — unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel helpless and lost. Then his name comes back to him, his age, where he's from, followed by the first of many memories: his mother and him, making cookies with The Rolling Stones blaring on an old radio in the background. 

Then all of it follows like a stampede trampling over each other: the ravagers, Ego, celebrations full of booze and old 70's and 80's hits with his team; he groans pitifully and remembers too suddenly that his mother is dead, Yondu is dead, Gamora is dead — and then he cries like he's never cried before in his goddamn life. Like, full-bodied sobbing, harder than he's ever allowed himself in the last thirty years. His fingers curl in rough alien soil and every nerve in his body is alight with something he can't really explain, leaving him shivering. When all is said and done, it's cathartic, but his head is pounding and his eyes are red and wet and — and his legs don't want to work, exactly, so he drags himself into sitting and stares all around him with a helpless, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Where are the others? 

Drax crawls out from behind the rubble with a bit-back curse as if summoned by Peter's sheer will alone, and Strange floats down from god knows where. Both of them wipe their faces and breathe like they'd just run a marathon, one you'd sprint for — to try and escape the returning memories. The questions bubbling under the surface can wait (when, why, how, who, where; where the fuck is Thanos so I can kick his head in and ignore the aching guilt of the stupid shit I've done). Peter's lips curl into a relieved grin despite himself and he staggers to his feet, rushing to meet Drax before the lumbering warrior can collapse on his knees; he steadies the two of them, and between four colt-like legs, they make it work until they can move on their own. 

"Drax, holy shit. I'm so happy to see you right now, I saw you and — where's Mantis? And... Stark and the kid?" 

He's not gonna pretend the last two weren't cliff notes in his order of priorities, compared to Mantis. That's his sister, his family, and his heart is pounding at the thought of losing anyone else from his team... because Gamora's so fresh in his mind, an abrasion so new and raw and — don't think about it, Quill, don't think about it right now, not until you can make it to a ship and find somewhere to lick the wounds. It's so hard to breathe, so hard to keep his memories in check. Judging from the pinched expression Drax has, he can only imagine the miserable television show going on in that thick skull of his. He had family, he had a life, a home, and now it's all coming back in thunderous waves. 

Drax perks. "I hear her. This way!"

And like clockwork, Mantis sobs more loudly from over the hill of debris, and Peter is already leaping over and down it, displacing rubble in his wake. It claws him up as he goes, but what's one more injury if it means getting to his team sooner? Add another wound to the dozens lanced in his heart, whatever, he can take it. What he can't take is finding someone he loves gone again because he wasn't good enough—

("I love you, more than anything.")

"Mantis! Shit, dammit — hang on, we're coming, hang on!" He skids to a stop at the bottom with Drax hot on his heels, and it's only there that he's relieved to find she's unhurt, curled up and sitting on her legs; her back is trembling, hands poised in front of her — no, no, hands pressed to the temples of a crumpled figure with shaggy brown hair and a terribly youthful face. He swallows hard at the sight, guilt coiling in his guts, because he had made this kid a footnote in his concerns all but fifteen seconds ago.The other Peter.

("Peter, huh? Samesies!" the spider kid laughs.)

The kid is on his back, and his eyes are open, face lax under Mantis' shivering fingertips. Quill automatically assumes the worst: that he didn't make it, because even if his skin has a healthy color, he doesn't look alive. Why didn't... he come back, too? What went wrong? Crouching down beside his friend, he examines the boy and his listless gaze that looks right through him, right through everything. A death stare. He's seen so many in his life — from ravagers and enemy alike — that he doesn't question it further than that.

"... Mantis, it's okay," he says softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He's gone. We gotta move."

"No, no, Peter," she weeps, freezing him with her desperation, "You're wrong. He's still here. I can feel him. But th-there's so much pain — something is wrong, and it hurts."

"She's right," Strange says with a surprisingly soft voice, "He's still breathing."

Quill watches with wide eyes the rise and fall of the kid's chest, and then the surprising drip of tears into the shells of Peter's ears.

"It hurts," Mantis says again, black hair curtaining her pained expression. "He's further and further away. I can't do anything. He is so afraid."

Peter Parker's eyes are open, half-lidded, without any sign of life behind them. But Quill feels like every word Mantis sobs is a memory he can't quite bring into focus... like — like a dream he'd forgotten in the time he'd been nothing but ash. Like a beacon, scrambling all of his senses and blinding him just before he had burst back to life from under the current of death. He remembers a snippet of what it was like on the other side, rolling over and over like he's stuck in a sea — a sea of souls. He remembers it was the kid's voice, calling out from oblivion as they were hoisted back into their bodies.

He remembers hearing his own voice... remembers saying, thinking, screaming: Hang on, kid, I got you!

— it hurts, it hurts, it hurts—

He puts his hand gently on Peter Parker's cheek.

It's warm. His body breathes in steady rhythm.

So why isn't there any life behind those eyes?

The lab is quiet, save for the rambling of an excited high-schooler bragging about their odds at the new decathlon competition. Tony doesn't really mind so much, though he's not about to tell that to the kid sitting there in his old thrift shop sweater; the same kid whose hair is curling out of control now, escaping the prison of hair gel he adds in the early morning. Peter's always so animated with his hands, most of all — always fidgeting, always moving, always so eager to sign and gesture faster than Peter's mouth can move.  "And Ned's got a brand new video-game he's dying to try out, but I dunno if he can handle it; it's a horror game, you know? He's kind of a big softy — oh."

Tony glances at Peter with a scoff and a raised eyebrow, though his smirk fades a little at what has drawn the kid's already battered attention span from the conversation. Peter holds an old trophy in front of him that he had taken off the nearest shelf: a replica, actually, but still no less important. It's the arc reactor, etched with those intimate, familiar words that Pepper still whispers to him when they're alone and living in their own little world.

"Aaww, look at that," Peter says with a playful smile, pressing the trophy against his chest, where the reactor would've resided in Tony's.  "... Proof that Tony Stark has a heart."

Peter's smile softens painfully, his eyes reflecting a long and sad goodbye before he crumbles away into nothing.

[zgtiger]

Weaving trough thick and thin would give way to a clearing deep in Duskwood. Neither Kuva nor Preston would have stopped to rest in anyway, they both were focused on the task at hand. Looking for Cato’s attacker. It seemed that Kuva was getting closer and closer, as the stops had become more frequent the more they ventured into Duskwood.  The guy had a headstart, that’s for sure but that does not stop the couple from coming across an abandoned looking building. Where, according to Kuva, smells were everywhere. The giant wolf would create zigzag motions through the dead grass with his nose to the ground, taking in every and anything his nose could detect.  Preston would hear the faint sound of Kuva’s guttural growls at some point during the hunt. A sound that vibrated Kuva and only causes the beast to tread more carefully towards the broken house. With caution, Preston stays at the flank. A singular hand would go to remove the shortsword and his dagger from their scabbards and there is when he would ready himself for a fight. Expertly posturing himself with one foot in front of the other, body facing sideways to act the smaller target. The more the direwolf progresses closer and closer to the building, the more his hairs would stand straight up. Beast was focused, however. That can be shown in the way his green eyes stared forwards intensely. Nothing could ever break a predator’s gaze from its prey. Preston knew that from experience. It was fortunate he was in control of the beast rather than someone else.  Without feeling much disturbance to the apparent circumstances, they each press forwards until Kuva had come to a sudden halt in the doorframe. A continuation of low growls emanates from the beast and just seconds following, Preston would suddenly dive back on instinct. An urge that controlled his very movements, though his mind could not fathom why until he had a look of what was actually going on. A large bear had leapt from the building to pounce at Kuva. Preston was very much frozen in shock as he discovered the size of this thing. He’d definitely underestimated this thing but it was perhaps a little bigger than Kuva and can easily back a punch if it wanted. Already, Kuva would have been knocked backwards with a prominent scratch over the side of his face. Blood would spill from his rent flesh and mangled fur but Preston was backing him in seconds. He raises his weapons in defense.  The booming roar of an angered bear would manifest and it would stand upon its hind legs to give a more intimidating approach. Just as Preston had come up to it to try to stab his steel into the creature’s flesh, he would be met with the graze of claws as the massive creature slammed back down. Had it not been for quick thinking and agility, Preston would have taken the brunt of it to his neck but he’d been able to duck down and leap to the side before he could be bested. Though doing so would cause him to harm himself during the impact with the ground. However, the result of it was no better than what could have happened. He’d taken the swipe to his head instead and though it wasn’t deep, it was enough to keep him down for some time. The warm blood dripping from his skull would presently go unnoticed as he stares up in dazed vision as the bear starts to lunge for Preston this time. Ready to end his life with the final swipe of massive claws. 

But fortunately, such would not be the case as Kuva had always been directly behind the bear. Both were of almost equal size but Kuva was swift and more agile for his species. The bear ends up taking an ugly bite to its leg and it would let out an agonized roar as a result. Kuva would not let up on he creature, his teeth would rip and rend through the bear’s thigh and even pull it off balance. The bear had no choice but to back off of Preston and be led to where the jaws were taking it. A massive arm would reach back in an attempt to swipe at the pulling Kuva but the wolf was quick to release and avoid the strike by only a hair. But they weren’t finished.  Both creatures would continue rivaling one another. The wolf would lunge at the bear wit massive teeth protruded and the bear would end up swiping in defense. Letting out a defiant roar and aggressive barks in a whole chorus of animal on animal battle. Preston for now could only watch the attack in his daze, head bleeding and with no way of helping at the present time. He was foolish and he cursed himself multiple times for it. Having underestimated the bear, it was on him to deal with those consequences.  Though, more consequences would follow as Preston’s foolishness would only further take its toll on him. This wasn’t as easy as he was expecting, his cockiness would cost him not only his life, but Kuva’s as well. He can see that now. Now that he suddenly feels the cold, hard bite of a knife against his throat that causes him to freeze up completely. The cock of a gun can be heard as well but no gunfire just yet. Though, Preston was anticipated and almost waited for a bullet to strike Kuva and kill him while he watched helplessly.  “Call your wolf off, lad. And I’ll call moine off.” A low voice can be heard in Preston’s ear. When nothing is said at first, and the battle between animals was ongoing, there would be the further press of steel against Preston’s gullet. “If no’, I’ll shoo’ the damned thing and cu’ your throa’. Do ye want te live, boy?”  It takes another moment but Preston does eventually find his voice, ridden with shock and agony. “K-Kuva! Come!”  “Basso!” And following the name calls, the animal fight would end just like that. The massive bear would cease and desist. The heavy thing lumbers over to Preston but it wasn’t to attack him in any shape or form. If anything, the thing looked more goofy and clumsy than anything else. An awkward bundle of mangled fur and skin waddling towards the man who had subdued Preston. Kuva on the other hand, was more nimble and swift. Rather than lumber over, the poor thing was limping and bleeding from varying wounds on its body.  The bear, Basso, had been heavily matted and painted in blood. His and Kuva’s alike but that had not prevented the giant thing from moving in such a fashion. As soon as Kuva reached Preston, the beast would drop in a heavy heap. No doubt in complete agony and pain, with a bloody tongue lolling heavily out of his mouth in an exhausted pant. All at the same time, however, the man behind Preston would let up on both the gun and the knife upon knowing he and his bear weren’t in anymore danger.  Though, the knife would only press further against Preston’s gullet when the next intentions were clear. The male behind him was not going to let him go just yet. Instead of releasing the boy altogether, he grabs at his bicep and begins to drag him to the nearby building just at their flanks. The man was strong enough so getting there was an easy trip. He was able to successfully pull Preston into the building, along with the massive bear and slam the door shut. Another kidnapping, it’s been a while. 

[bl-giftexchange]

Into the Cave

To: @social-media-asshole From: @luxmavis

But uhm warnings: Bad Boy Friend Jack. Trigger warnings of like rape and an abusive relationship. And mayor character death?

Implied both RhysxTimmy and Rhack.  

AU: None; based in Pandora

***

Rhys clutched his weekend bag and anxiously hopped up and down on the balls of his feet. Waiting impatiently for his other two friends to arrive. This was madness. The idea that Rhys had a three-day weekend off or the fact that both of his friends had the same weekend off or the fact that Rhys had successfully convinced them to join him on a trip to Pandora.

Rhys had recently been gifted the Atlas cooperation by Jack; it sat vacant for ages. Now they were taking a trip down to New Haven, and Rhys could barely contain his excitement.

He was going to be CEO of his own company.

Well as long as he played his roll of trophy wife well.

“Hey, bro,” Vaughn said, dragging Rhys out of his spiral to dark thoughts. “You ready to go?”

Rhys looked up from looking at his hands to see that Vaughn and Yvette had arrived, both carrying their own bags. “I hope I packed enough stuff,” Yvette said. It was a shot towards Rhys whose bag was twice the size of hers.

Rhys shrugged. “Hey, I might be living down here, I need more stuff.”

Vaughn’s eyes shifted around nervously. “I really wouldn’t say those things out loud,” he said barely over a whisper. “You-know-who might hear you?”

“Who, Voldemort,” Yvette snorted.

Vaughn glared at Yvette. “This is not a laughing matter.”

Yvette just rolled her eyes and retorted something passive aggressive at Vaughn. Rhys tuned back in just in time to hear. “Vaughn, relax. You have seen how depressed Rhys has been lately, can’t you at least play along for a little bit,” Yvette said. Despite how low she dropped her voice, Rhys could hear every word and knew what exactly what she was talking about.

Rhys was grateful when the Fast Travel recharged and they were able to get off of Helios.

***

After they appeared in Atlas and got settled for the weekend, despite Vaughn’s efforts to keep Rhys in Atlas, and under Jack’s surveillance, Rhys had convinced his friends that it would be alright to adventure off and if Jack says anything, he would be sure to express that it was his decision and not at all Vaughn or Yvette’s idea.

Vaughn relented after some arguing with Yvette and agreed to take a quick walk around New Haven’s flea market but as soon as they got back they needed to start working on getting Atlas’ accounts in order so they could relaunch the company in six months.

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Come on, Vaughn, let me enjoy this freedom for a few moments please.”

The flee market was full of colors, sounds and smells that Rhys had not experienced before. This was the first time he was on Pandora since being hired by Helios. It was a nice break from the smell of bleach, metallic sights and that awful yellow color staining almost every surface in Jack’s regime.

Yvette drifted over to a bandit cooking something on a grill. Vaughn’s face went white and rushed after her.

Rhys slipped off. He stopped wondering at a stand selling different styles of material. He was running his fingers through a blue silky material when a too familiar voice spoke to him.

“You would look really good in that color,” the Doppelgänger said. “Though you probably have been told that multiple times before.”

Rhys’ whirled around, clutching his hands to his chest, “J-Jack,” Rhys said short of breath. Still not registering who he was talking too. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to check out the area. I’ll go back indoors soon.”

Timothy Lawrence’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa, whoa,” he said hold up his hands, palms to Rhys. “I am no who you think I am. Sorry for startling you.”

Vaughn and Yvette materialized at Rhys’ elbow. “Ohmygod,” Yvette said. “I heard about the body double but I have never seen him in person.”

Vaughn sighed an audible sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness, I thought we were done for,” Vaughn turned to Rhys. “There has been too many close calls today. How about we just go back now?”

Rhys frowned at Vaughn. After a pause Rhys agreed but only after Yvette and Vaughn allow him to take a photo with Timothy, Tim for short, that Rhys found out. Or Timmy, whatever Rhys preferred.

Timmy wrapped and arm around Rhys’ waist and pulled him close. “Don’t worry, cupcake,” Timmy said in character, his lips at Rhys’ ear, warm breath tickled Rhys’ cheek. “I don’t bite. Well unless you’re into that.” He then winked at Rhys.

Rhys faced the body double turned bright crimson and Vaughn snapped the photo.

***

There was a light tapping sound on Rhys’ window. Rhys tried to ignore it, but it continued. Rhys sighed kicked off his bed covers and sat up. He swung his legs over the cot. This was one of the few times that Rhys missed Jack’s bed, he would take sleeping next to a manipulative psychopath over this cot.

This cot was very uncomfortable.

Rhys crossed the small makeshift bedroom. It was the servant’s quarters and basically the size of a broom closet but it was the only place that was not riddled with surveillance equipment and the only place he could get a way from Vaughn and Yvette for a few hours.

Jack allowed them come along knowing quite well that Jack had threatened them into submission and agreeing to watch Rhys’ every move.

It was quite tiring.

Rhys pulled up a milk crate, flipped it over, and stood on top of it to reach the too-high window.

Rhys threw open the window and stuck his head out, below him Timmy stood, a goofy grin sped over his face, so different than Jack’s eat-shit one.

Timmy winked at Rhys and motioned him to come join him.

Rhys closed the window and quietly got dressed. He tiptoed on bare feet around Vaugh and Yvette camped out in front of his door.

Once he was out the door, Rhys tugged on his boots and joined Timmy in the shadows.

“What are you doing here,” Rhys breathed, he wasn’t sure if his heart was beating out of excitement or nervousness.

“I had to see you again,” Timmy smiled again. His grin was so addicting.

Rhys found himself blushing and smiling himself. He stopped it at once. “You can’t be here,” Rhys said, more serious. “I can’t be seen with you, I’m a – already spoken for.” Rhys’ eyes shifted away from Timmy’s face too familiar, yet inviting face.  The same but also so different from Jack’s own masked one.

“Not that I heard,” Timmy said. “What I gathered is that Jack was seen with Moxxi and you were seen without him. Multiple times.”

Rhys gulped. Damn those reporters and their false reports. They didn’t know the whole story. “You- you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rhys said barely over a whisper. “He wouldn’t -he.”

“When you caught him,” Timmy said calmly as possible. “Was it then the first time he hit you? Or was it when you threatened to leave him?”

Rhys’ features paled, is breath caught in his throat. Rhys’ subconsciously pressed the pads of his fingers against his throat.

Timmy reached out and captured Rhys’ hands.

Rhys looked up and matched his eyes with Timmy’s. They were the same as Jack’s but yet so different at the same time.

They had a different light in them, something that could be called a sparkle, but also pity and a look of understanding.

“He-he,” Rhys said, his voice was wavering. “He didn’t mean it, it she-.” Rhys gulped in air again, his throat burned against the cold wind.

Timmy pulled Rhys into a hug. Rhys buried his face into the body double’s shoulder and sobbed.

***

Rhys was settled back into bed, warmly going to start dreaming about Timmy, and motorcycle ride that ended up in a secluded location under the stars, which led to snuggling up close to each other, nervous kisses that turned into warmer ones, hungrier ones, and then to something more.

The sunlight was peaking over the edge of Rhys’ window when he started to drift into darkness.

That was when his echo rang.

Shit my echo Sleep left Rhys at once. He had his echo off, right? Right? It had to have been off, he didn’t remember turning it on, unless Jack did, unless he finally broke into his cybernetics after Rhys jailbroke them to keep his boss out.

Rhys knew he could not keep Jack waiting, because if he did it could get worse, like Jack could actually make a Fast Travel trip down here.

“Hey, hey, Jack,” Rhys said, trying to sound as tired as he could, though it wasn’t too hard, since a large yawn happened in the middle of his greeting.

“Hey, pumpkin, just wanted to let you know I missed you,” Jack’s voice echoed.

Rhys brought his hand up and the screen flashed on. Rhys was greeted by his bare-chested boss who to was also in bed.

“Why are you up,” Rhys said.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jack said, yawning.

My echo was off my echo was off I know my echo was off. Rhys frowned.

“I saw you come in late, like just now, a few moments ago,” Jack said. “Where ya’ been Rhysie.”

Oh, shit dumbass, I forgot to sneak around the cameras. Fuck me. Rhys’ inside’ throbbed ironically, as a reminder. Oh yea.

Jack raised an eyebrow, waiting on an answer, “Everything alright there, Rhysie,” his voice grew impatient.

“Ah, yes, yes, fine, I ah- couldn’t sleep so I went out for a quick walk, didn’t you see me leave,” Rhys asked, hoping to turn the questions away.

Jack frowned. “No, I must have miss you,” Jack then grinned and said. “You missing, o’l Jack, now, cupcake? Can’t sleep well without me, huh?”

More like this cot is made from the fires of Hell. “Yes, that must have been it, haha,” Rhys yawned again. “Of course, I miss you.”

“Okay, kitten, I’ll let you get some beauty sleep,” Jack winked at him. “Hurry back, Daddy is waiting.”

The screen went blank.

Rhys pressed a hand to his throat, feeling the blood rushing there, Be still my beating heart

***

“Rhys, Rhys, Rhysie,” Jack’s voice echoed in the room, getting louder, his voice dripped with annoyance.

Rhys stood up immediately from his position on the couch in Jack’s office and looked over at his boss. “Yes. Sir, is there anything I can do for you,” Rhys tired to keep his voice from shaking. His mind was in dangerous parts of Pandora.

“Get over here,” Jack motioned, his eyes were locked on the computer screen.

Rhys slowly crossed the room, stopping next to Jack’s desk. “Can I help you?”

Jack shoved himself away from the desk, he looked up at Rhys and patted his lap. When Rhys didn’t move Jack reached up and jerked Rhys down by his red tie.

Rhys awkwardly fell into Jack’s lap, sprawled over Jack, his legs on either side of the golden chair. The scent of Jack was everywhere, it curled up and over and set shop up in Rhys’ nose.

Rhys was dazed by the overwhelming smell of the alpha when Jack then shifted Rhys more comfortably on his lap.

Oh no, no no no Red flags flew up in Rhys’ mind. He had been fighting off Jack since he got back from Pandora three weeks ago. Oh no, Oh God please no.

Jack’s nose was at Rhys’ neck. “Ever since you left for that weekend I have been thinking,” Jack’s voice purred against Rhys’ throat. “I missed too much, I think you should run Atlas from up here.”

Oh know, he knows, but how? I was so careful, I I I washed everything, there cant be anyway he would know Rhys’ mind started racing. No, no I was supposed to leave in a week, I was supposed to be back down on Atlas, I was supposed to be with Timmy, I was going to see Timmy.

Rhys couldn’t get any words out.

Jack continued his assault on Rhys’ body. Jack’s hand slid lower, he pulled Rhys closer.

Jack stop just stop. Rhys thought weakly.

Jack slid a rough hand under Rhys’ chin, tiling his chin up.

Rhys jerked his head back, “No, Jack, stop, don’t I-I’m not ready yet,” Rhys protested. Rhys pressed a hand against Jack’s shoulder, and tried to shove back, his metal one was pinned behind his back by the alpha’s arm, he pressed his hand against Rhys’ back.

Roughly Jack pulled Rhys closer.

“Rhys, I waited long enough, I gave you time, I even allowed you and your little nerd friends on a weekend trip,” Jack growled. “I said I was sorry now get over it. I’m done waiting.”

Jack’s hand slid under Rhys’ waist band.

No Jack stop Rhys’ vision wavered, tears threatened to fall. His fingers dug into Jack’s shoulder, trying to get some leverage, maybe he could break free. He struggled against Jack but knew it wasn’t worth it.

Because no matter what.

Despite what he wanted.

He was Jack’s.

And Jack sought to it.

***

 “Letter to P.0. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

 “I am not sure how much safer this is, but it makes me feel better. I bribed the mail boy to give my letters to me personally, I told Jack it has stuff to do with Atlas and he himself said that he didn’t want to deal with that bandit company’s problems.

Hopefully you will get this.

I had to try and contact you.”

Rhys.

Letter to CEO of Atlas from P.O. box 102, New Haven

“You’re not with him, he has no right to say anything. You’re not his.

Also, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Timmy

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“You of all people know how wrong you are. He doesn’t care. He didn’t even care when I caught him with Moxxi. All he did was twist my words around and blame it on me.

…I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night.”

Rhys.

Letter to CEO of Atlas from P.O. Box 102, New Haven

“Just like he did when he hit you the first time.”

Timmy

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“That was low.”

Rhys

Letter to CEO of Atlas from P.O. Box 102, New Haven

“I know, I regretted it as soon as I sent it. I’m sorry.

You were so nervous. It was very cute.”

Timmy

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“Seriously, you were JUST as nervous as me. I could not have been your first kiss. Come on, dork.”

Rhys

Letter to CEO of Atlas from P.O. Box 102, New Haven

“Hey! Give me a break, you can make any guy nervous. Looking all cute and pretending to be innocent. That was just as much as my fault as yours.”

Timmy

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“Oh yeah, blame it on poor me for your performance issues, ;)

I miss you.”

Rhys

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“Hey, did you get my previous letter”

Rhys

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“Hey, I miss you”

Rhys

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“Hey, I haven’t heard form you in a while, is everything okay”

Rhys

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“okay, I get it, I was a fling, I understand, but seriously just let me know your alive, I’m getting worried.”

Rhys

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“Timmy, I’m not joking, this is getting old. What the hell?”

Rhys

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“Well fuck you too.”

Rhys

Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“Timmy. I’m scared. Jack left. He hasn’t been back for at least two weeks. Timmy, please please answer me if you can. I’m starting to expect the worst.

Timmy, I love you, please answer me.” Rhys,” Jack read to his captured audience. “And of course, the letter I intercepted,” pathetic, really.” Jack snorted. “How long do you really think I was going to allow this fling to continue. Though Rhys did lead me right to your hide out. I wonder how he’s going to feel when I tell him that juicy little detail.”

Timmy glared up at Jack, Timmy struggled against his bindings again. He was gaged, his hands tied behind his back. The cold cave floor bit through his clothes, the ground was rough against his cheek.

“Glare at me all you want, pumpkin, all the resistance you give me now it come back at Rhysie tenfold,” Jack said, not looking up from tossing the letters into the fire.

The light bounced off the walls, illuminating the dark cave. The heat contrasted against the cold wind that rushed in, sending goose bumps up from Timmy’s bare ankles and up his legs.

Timmy hurt in places that he refused to speak about. He didn’t want to think about what had transpired a few moments before.

Timmy glanced at his discarded pants. There was knife in his pocket, if only he could figure out away from these binds.

“Don’t even think about it, princess,” Jack said. He was digging through Timmy’s bag and found a piece of paper and pen. “Why don’t we invite your friend to come join us.”

Timmy’s eyes grew the size of saucers. He did the best he could to protest.

“What? No, do you want Daddy all to yourself,” Jack said. Jack stood up and crossed the cave floor.

Jack’s shadow loomed over Timmy.

Timmy’s eyes locked on the red tie in Jack’s hand.

***

Failed to mail Letter to P.O. Box 102, New Haven from CEO of Atlas

“I miss you too, I love you Rhys come live with me. We’ll figure it out.

 Together.”

 Timmy

***

Fin 

I am so so so very sorry. I don’t like bad boyfriend Jack nor do I like to harm Timmy in anyway. 

So don’t hate me please TT~TT I feel terrible. 

[misunderstoodcreatures]

@ellinesxmageiaxlykoi severus, you should not read this, it’ll make you angsty

    “I’m not going to go to the stupid ball,” RJ snorted in between downing a buttlebeer and a treacle tart and successfully not making a mess of her uniform. Neville had a different opinion of course and was more than thrilled to take every damn dancing class professor McGonagall was giving and drag them along. 

     Hermione kept very quiet about it, which puzzled both Neville and Weasel to no end--he was becoming a nuisance in her opinion, always staring and talking and having shitty wizard-centric opinions that were more in tune with the Slytherins than the Gryffindors. It was annoying but she wasn’t rude--not always--so unless he became an actual problem, she wouldn’t say a thing.

    Besides the fact that RJ’s coordination was solely available in the Quidditch pitch, the idea of going home for the holidays was far more alluring than staying here where three quarters of the castle hated her and the path she walked in, and being with auntie P and Duds. There really was no choice there to be made--though she would love to take pictures of Mione in her blue dress--and everyone’s face when they realized she was Viktor’s date. Heh, that’d be funny.

   “Must we really go? Whyyyyyy Nev whyyy” she grunted while reluctantly getting up and brushing off some breadcrumbs from her clothes. “Because--plus it’s not with McGonagall. It’s just--a few people.” Now, Neville hardly ever used that tone with her, that’s the tone he saved for other people. “What is it? What are you not telling me?” but Nev would give nothing away, even after she pinched his arm rather forcefully.

   Once they had gotten to the Room of Requirements she was even more puzzled and noticed that Hermione was getting flushed--that meant Viktor was probably in on this too. So, who else could it be? “Nev did you actually threw a party? At the ROR? I never thought you had it in you,” RJ quipped happily until they walked into the room that is and noticed there was music and low lights and food--thank god there was food at least. 

   Mione disappeared 5 seconds after Viktor and Nev started dancing slowly with Ginny, getting two thumbs up from her from the food table. 

   “So you’re here for the food,” a voice joked from behind her while she was unceremoniously downing another tracle tart and pursed her lips together before swallowing a rather large piece of it. Thankfully the lights were low and Cedric wouldn’t notice how flushed her own cheeks were. “Hey. Hi. Uhm. Well, yes. Trust me, I’m doing everyone a favor,” she managed to joke before shifting uncomfortably on the spot. 

    “Have you figured out the clue yet?” “-Nope”, “-me neither. But I got a hint,” he commented leaning closer to her--the music was loud now even though it sounded like a Spice Girls slow song? How did Nev get a Spice Girls song anyway? “Oh?”

    “Yeah. I’m gonna test it later. Wanna tag along? You may need a swimsuit.” Okay, out of all of the things she would expect to come out of Cedric Diggory’s full lips ‘you may need a swimsuit’ was definitely not one of them. 

    “Uh, sure. I’ll take all the help I can get,” she shrugged it off before taking another buttlebeer and start sipping from it before offering it to him--realizing a minute too late that he wasn’t Nev or Mione, to whom this behavior was normal. 

    Still, he took it, unpocketing his hand from his pants and looked down at her before taking a sip and not looking away. He truly did had lovely eyes, didn’t he? And it was so great that Mme. Pomfrey had been able to fix his burnt brows--though he’d still be bloody gorgeous with a half burnt face who are you kidding RJ.

    When she realized she was staring back at him she looked away and back to Neville, who seemed to be dancing a little too close to Ginny--and she seemed to be more than okay with it--Ronald not so much, “oh dear,” she muttered and stormed away from Cedric to stop Ron on his tracks, talking to him in a corner near the exit. 

    “That’s enough. Grab someone to dance or eat something or get the hell out but you’re not ruining this for them.” She was bossy---almost as bossy as Mione she noticed---and it startled Weasel enough to turn away and storm towards Lavender Brown. Poor chick.

     Sighing, she turned around only to almost bump into Cedric’s chest, who held her hand in his. “I think you should practise for the Ball. You can’t possibly be that bad Rosie.” She meant to retort to that with some snappy line or another but she really couldn’t remember how to speak with his hand in hers while his other was holding her from her waist.

     “I’m not coming to the Ball. I’m going back home,” she managed after what seemed like an eternity and drew a frown on Cedric’s face. “You’re not? Why not?” he stopped when she stepped on his foot and chuckled. “Oh that’s why,” he joked before resuming the slow dancing. “We can start with the basics. You need to look into your partner’s eyes and not worry about your feet, they’ll follow you,” he said softly talking close to her ear and it was pretty surreal--the whole thing was surreal. If someone would’ve told Mione and she that she’d be getting dance lessons from Cedric and that Mione would be in some dark corner of the ROR making out with a foreign quidditch star they would’ve laughed their butts off. 

     But she was. They were--both of them in their respective places and RJ had to admit she liked it. Well, she liked Cedric, who didn’t like Cedric? He was like the Hogwarts version of a Backstreet Boy and had a super nice heart and a terribly charming smile, which he was gracing her with. “So no one asked you to go to the Ball yet?” It wasn’t an accusation or anything, and it was a fact, one that she replied with a shrug. “Weasel did but I said no cos I rather go home. Maybe I’ll stay. I mean, I do want to see Pansy’s face when Mione walks into that room next to Viktor. Oh damn, I wasn’t supposed to say that. Please d-” “-Viktor told me, don’t worry,” and with that he spun her around and she laughed, landing her hand over his chest before they started dancing again. “See, you’re getting better already.”

    “So who are you going with? Cho? She really wants you to ask her,” she said focusing on the border of his sweater instead of looking up at him again. “Nope. I hadn’t asked anyone yet. And I definitely wouldn’t ask her,” he added as an afterthought. “Are you really not staying for the Ball?” he asked again.

     RJ shrugged again and furrowed her eyebrows. “Maybe I’ll go by myself I dunno. I’m really not into this dancing thing, as your feet can attest,” she joked and finally looked up at him and noticing a small smile before he twirled her again and she landed closer than before.

     “I think you’re---so brave,” he started nervously, tilting his head closer to hers as he spoke. “And beautiful and such a great flier and... This whole thing, is very unfair to you.” RJ swallowed hard then, unable to look away from his eyes, “you--you told me that already,” she whispered nervously, not missing just how close their lips where and how terrified she felt--not about being kissed by Cedric Perfect Diggory but at sucking at it.

     He smiled then, that goofy smile of his and RJ noticed how his cheeks were blushing too. “Would you go to the Ball with me Potter?” he asked softly, their fingers lacing together when she nodded her reply, which only made his grin grow wider and shorten the distance between their lips, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her softly for a moment.

     Then he pulled away, enough to see her eyes and see if she’d want to slap him but she was just staring up at him with her lips parted and her cheeks in all sorts of shades of red. One of his hands moved slowly to cup her face and she smiled a little--she couldn’t really talk and wouldn’t know what to say--so she decided to rest her free hand on the side of his chest and closed her eyes when his lips were pressed against hers again, her body pulling closer to his as the kiss became a little more desperate and heated, with his warm breath over her cheek and the chocolaty taste of his lips and eventually the tip of his tongue running against her lower lip before she parted them and sighed at the feeling of their tongues touching. It was so warm and fuzzy and breathtaking and a little surreal too and that’s how she described it back to Neville and Mione once they were back alone in their common room.