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#so I’m not super comforted that she hasn’t been concerned but it does help to know
arlo-venn · 16 days
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I’m worried about Juni but Tyrell won’t hear it :/ She is SO sleepy and TOO chill almost all of the time since being on Prozac and she is definitely more well behaved but it feels like it stole her light :( She’s also not a puppy anymore but she’s way too young to lose her spark. I keep bringing up lowering the dose or seeing how she does off of it but Tyrell gets all huffy. Sure she’s easier to manage. But who even is Juni without her chaos.
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riahlynn101 · 2 years
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"Of Heartaches and Headaches" (11).
Chapter Eleven
Author's note: Special thanks to Halogenrobotics (or Yeagle on Ao3) for giving me some ideas for this chapter (and most of the chapters moving forward)! Go check out their stuff. They have a lot of good ideas, are super creative, and are an absolute joy to talk to! With all that being said, I hope you all enjoy :D
--
Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Not again! Not again! Fuck! Fuck! 
Luis had been on his way to the security room, as he wanted to see if the daycare was currently in sleep-mode (Moon was said to not allow caregivers to pick up their children while they were sleeping), when he came across his best friend passed out in front of the doors. 
And all he could think is a string of curses and half-garbled thoughts. 
He made sure she was breathing, and her pulse seemed to be steady enough. The skin on her face and hands is slightly dry and cool to the touch. Mixed with her occasional complaints in the past about headaches, he hopes it’s just dehydration (serious but not as serious as what they had to deal with four months back). 
Management is sure to have a fit if they see her passed out. Whether it’s her fault or not, the company will try to paint her as the villain and toss her out like yesterday’s newspaper. It’s for the best that he puts her in the security room and keeps an eye on her until she wakes up. 
It helps that the daycare is indeed having their naptime, so it’s not like he can go anywhere for another hour or two. 
He sets an alarm. He’ll wake Vanessa up when it goes off, and if she doesn’t respond he’ll call 9-1-1. 
-x-x-x-
The office smells strongly of cinnamon and disinfectants. Bookshelves surround the room, boxing them in, save for the wooden door off to the side. A child-sized table sits towards the back. A board game with worn edges lays haphazardly forgotten on the table’s top. 
“So…..want….issues…” The person in front of her says, their voice muffled.
Vanessa thinks it must be a person, but with how blurred they are, it could be anything. Unless this a dream, in which case perhaps animals could-
“Vanny!” A woman’s voice cuts off her train of thought. Her voice is clearer than it ever has been. It’s firm, commanding in a way that’s expected from someone who’s been teaching for many years, but also comforting like a mother. 
Vanessa doesn’t so much as react. She never does. She can’t.
“Yes?” She hears herself ask. 
The woman inhales deeply. “Are you….are you feeling alright?”
“Fine, why do you ask?”
The woman is quiet for a good minute. The clock hanging over the door is the loudest thing in the room. Each tick a countdown to ending the session. 
“No reason. As your therapist, I worry about you, is all.”
Vanessa feels something in her boil in pure, unadulterated rage. Thoughts that are definitely not hers bubble up to the surface. 
Weak! If I’m weak he’ll get rid of me! How dare she insinuate I’m weak! Not weak! Not weak!
Vanessa is overwhelmed with the oscillating emotions. Still, she can’t move a muscle to show this. The corners of her mouth uptick into a smile. 
“I’m alright, Dr…..” Her voice trails off, everything becoming blurry around the edges like a watercolor painting. 
Vanessa feels herself sink into the couch, being sucked in and in and in until she’s falling through an open void. She squeezes her eyes shut, heart dropping into her stomach. 
“Vanessa…?” 
Suddenly, she isn’t falling anymore. Someone’s shaking her. “Vanessa?” They ask. 
Vanessa takes a second to open her eyes, relishing in the feeling of being awake and in control of her own actions. She sighs, deeply. 
When she finally opens her eyes, Luis is seated next to her. Concern is written all across his face. She hasn’t seen him look so worried since….
“I’m fine,” she says, sitting up. Judging by the large monitors taking up the entire room, they’re in the main security room. When did she get here?
“I found you passed out in the hallway. I carried you in here so management wouldn’t write you up.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”
“You want to pay for a ride in the whee whoo wagon?”
Vanessa looks down, shaking her head. “No.” She cracks a smile. “You don’t think Faz Entertainment would foot the bill, do you?” 
“No, absolutely not. They’re allergic to the words: accountability and lawsuit. You’d be fired before the ambulance even arrived.” He laughs, not at her but at the corrupt company that employs them both. 
“Right, right. Well, thank you for not leaving me to die out there. I must have been dehydrated or something.”
“Anytime. And, considering the last time I saw you drink any water was….” he hums, tapping a finger to his chin, “...never. I would say you’re probably right on the money. Here.” He tosses her a water bottle.
She fumbles it, casting Luis an (pretend) annoyed look.
“Drink up, and call me if you start feeling off.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” She unscrews the cap. 
“I’m going to pick up Gregory. Don’t die.”
“No promises. And Luis?”
He pokes his head back into the room, holding onto the doorframe. “Yes?”
“Thank you. Really, thank you.”
“Like I said, anytime,” he smiles brightly at her before leaving for real. 
-x-x-x-
Gregory lays curled up. His cot is situated between Sarah and Xander. The two got in trouble with Mr. Moon, so they had to be spaced further apart. They still talk in loud whispers anyways. He ignores his new friends, focusing on the twinkling stars over their heads and the soft music playing from some unknown place in the daycare. 
The next thing he knows, Mr. Sun is kneeling next to his cot. The lights are back on and his new friends are no longer next to him, nor are their cots. 
“Friend, it’s time to wake up.”
“Nuh, uh,” he groans, pulling up the blanket Mr. Sun let him borrow for naptime over his head. The material is soft and keeps him warm. He starts to fall back asleep. 
“Friend, it’s time for you to go home.”
That wakes him up. 
He pulls the blanket away, hopping up. As fun as the daycare was, and he hopes Mama Nessa and Papa Luis let him come back tomorrow, he really wants to leave. His new friends are really loud and kind of messy. 
He helps Mr. Sun take care of his blanket, pillow, and cot. And then he’s led to the daycare’s door. 
“Papa Luis!” He shouts, racing the rest of the way there. 
He’s scooped up, and he leans into the warm hold. It reminds him of…..
Gregory shakes his head, removing the thought before it can lead anywhere. He hates thinking about that. Hates thinking about his life before this. Hates, hates thinking about her.
It hurts his head anyways, and sometimes he can pretend it was all a bad dream. Mama Nessa and Papa Luis are taking really good care of him anyways, even if they think he’s a tiny little baby and not a toddler. They’re really nice, and he has no doubts that they’ll learn. 
He closes his eyes, putting his head on Papa’s shoulder.
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phoenixyfriend · 3 years
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Fake Sith TCW Trio
I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)
So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)
This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.
I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.
Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.
Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.
Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?
Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”
Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.
Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.
Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."
Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!
Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?
He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.
Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”
Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.
Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?
"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]
Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]
The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.
(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)
At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."
They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.
The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.
Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.
Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.
Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.
Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.
Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.
Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.
At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.
(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)
Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?
The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.
For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.
(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)
Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."
There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.
We have a number of options.
My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"
And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.
“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”
Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.
(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)
Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.
Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...
Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.
Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?
“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...
On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.
Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.
"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."
(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)
ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.
Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.
Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.
“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”
Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."
One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...
Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.
They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.
There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.
Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?
"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."
(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)
Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.
Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.
(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")
Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...
I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.
Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."
(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)
Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.
"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."
"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."
Quinlan approves of the priorities.
Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?
Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.
Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.
It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."
Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.
"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"
They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.
The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?
In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!
Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.
Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.
Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.
Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.
Darth Ben.
Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.
Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.
Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.
More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)
Anyway, back to Nonsense:
Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.
Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.
(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)
There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.
Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.
I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).
Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.
And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?
I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...
(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)
Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."
Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"
Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.
Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”
It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”
At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.
Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.
As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."
[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]
Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.
Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.
Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.
Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.
An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….
It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.
There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"
A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.
We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.
After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…
He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.
HOWEVER:
Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.
What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?
Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?
So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.
Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.
Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.
Because here's the thing: someone has to be.
They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.
This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.
They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.
I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.
Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.
Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.
Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???
(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)
I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."
Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.
Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.
Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???
Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!
(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)
An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.
Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.
There is obviously the question of
"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)
Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.
* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.
Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.
It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!
(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)
Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.
Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.
Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."
Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)
Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.
Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.
Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.
(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")
(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)
Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!
It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.
(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)
Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.
Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.
I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.
Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.
I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...
I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"
Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?
(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)
Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.
I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.
Per Tia:
One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.
I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.
I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.
That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.
A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"
I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.
"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"
I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.
My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--
It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.
Some of the rants are planned.
Many of them, actually.
They want the Jedi to know these things.
Just, well. Anakin.
He really is a little Like That.
On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.
Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.
(Poor Obi-Wan.)
I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.
Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????
Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.
Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.
(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)
Tia asked:
How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."
I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.
Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."
I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:
Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.
"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"
(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)
Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?
IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.
The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.
Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.
"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."
Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.
"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.
Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.
I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.
Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...
That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!
"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."
Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'
You know, the important stuff.
I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.
Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?
Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.
Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.
Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.
Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ
Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.
Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."
(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)
-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?
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miraculouscontent · 2 years
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I've seen several takes now how Luka is a horrible person because in the finale he didn't step in when Adrien needed to leave for his trip since he knows that would mean chat wouldn't be around anymore and generally that he didn't help adrien at all thi s season which... first of all how was Luka supposed to know, was it announced on tv bc I don't remember anything like that? But more importantly it just irks me the wrong way how people make "being nice/helpful to Adrien" the standard for "being a good person"?
Even if Luka did tell them he knows their identities, he would still rather comfort Marinette than Adrien for obvious reasons. Luka has seen first hand how stessed out Marinette was because of her hero duties (and he doesn't know that she has a confidant to "help" her) while he had one conversation with Adrien how he doesn't know what he wants to do later in life (which is not a conversation about hero stress). Adrien never gave him the vibe that the hero work is stressful because Chat noir literally never looks stressed out, so why would Luka assume anything else? Also Luka is wayyyy closer with Marinette than with Adrien, so of course he would go to her first.
And another thing, what exactly is Luka even supposed to do? Kidnap Adrien? Smack Gabriel with his guitar? Luka doesn't have the power to prevent Adrien from leaving or protect him from Gabriel (also that is clearly Marinette's job because her protecting/saving him is SuPeR rOmAnTiC)
Idk it just feels like another dumb argument to salt on Luka although his behavior makes sense
lol, that logic. Adrien basically had - what? a few hours before he left? - and people are complaining that Luka didn’t do anything??
Also, of course, now that Luka knows Chat’s identity, the stans expect Luka to drop everything for him. Yeah, it was on TV, but Luka’s life doesn’t revolve around Adrien (so he genuinely could’ve not even seen/heard about it) nor does everything revolve around Adrien? I know that’s a novel concept but still. :P Anyway, it was Chat’s fault in the first place that Luka knows and now Adrien should be rewarded for it?
Never mind that Adrien hasn’t done a thing for Luka as a friend (he pushed Luka out of the way in “Desperada” I guess, and going off of love square stan logic, Luka owes Adrien his life now maybe?). Never mind that Luka has a life of his own, like a part-time job and school that he has to think about. Never mind that he was apparently so conveniently “unavailable” that he wasn’t there to be called upon when Ladybug went to get a bunch of heroes, meaning he was likely busy enough that he couldn’t have helped Adrien.
Though, the funniest part of that argument is that it hinges on the idea that Luka would think that Chat wouldn’t tell Ladybug that he was leaving and thus they wouldn’t have a plan for it. I mean, we know Chat didn’t tell, but in the realm of canon where they teach everyone else that the love square is so perfect and “made for each other” (plus how they hide Chat’s wrongdoings like the New York special, since that would’ve been a concern of Luka’s if he’d known it was Chat’s fault but Chat never had to admit guilt to Paris itself), wouldn’t Luka naturally think that Chat told Ladybug and they worked something out if Adrien was going to be leaving for literal months?
Point being, Luka doesn’t owe Adrien anything and Luka doesn’t have the sort of power to prevent Adrien from leaving anyway, as you said. This is even excluding the fact that Marinette had tried to save Adrien after realizing that he didn’t want to go, and not only did the first attempt fail despite her being Ladybug at the time, but the second went disastrously despite all of her good, logical reasoning for it. As far as I’m concerned, the further away from Adrien Luka is, the better off he’s going to be.
Then again, I dunno what else I expect from being around someone wielding the power of destroying everyone else’s lives, whether indirectly or otherwise destruction.
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yeehawbvby · 2 years
Text
Falling Away With You | Ch. 9
Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Chapter Summary: ThErE wAs OnLy OnE bEd!!!1!1!
Author’s Note: Like comment subscribe drink water do squats etc. Most importantly, enjoy the almost-spicy content! ;3
Table of Contents + Work Summary
Check it out on ao3! 
Prev | Next
“Oh my god,” I whisper. 
It’s 9 in the morning. I woke up wanting some water, but was stopped by two ivory arms wrapped around me. This isn’t happening. I peer over my shoulder and Seb is fast asleep, spooning me, looking as perfect as ever. 
“Oh my GOD, ” I this time silently mouth to myself. 
He moans — not like a sex moan, but still enough of a moan to do things to me — in his slumber, tightening his hold around my waist. Oh my god!!!
I suppose I have no choice but to accept my fate. I will simply never hydrate again. 
Feeling bold, I lay my hand on his, and trace the curves of his wrist and the light birthmarks on his forearms that I never noticed he was painted with. I finally get to see if his alleged tattoo is a tattoo or not. It is, and it’s a little semicolon. Fitting, considering what he’d shown me yesterday. 
I sink further into the bed, scooting back a little in the process, really soaking up this moment. I feel Seb shift behind me — shit, act asleep, (y/n)! I shut my eyes, and try to emulate a deep slumber with my breathing. 
“I know you’re awake, (y/n),” he taunts. My stomach does a flip at the sound of his morning rasp.
I fake an exaggerated snore, which earns me a light pinch on the side that I can’t help but laugh at. 
“Sorry,” I sigh, “you’re comfy…”
“Mhm... First my clothes, now my body ?!” He exaggerates fake-shock as I flip over to face him. “What else will you steal from me for your own pleasure, (y/l/n)?”
I observe him, my eyes dramatically roaming his face. I place my fingers underneath his chin, tilting my head and his around. Getting a better view of the specimen before me. Inspecting a precious jewel. He’s giggling, and it’s infectious. It's so fucking hard to keep up my facade right now. 
After much contemplation, I respond, “Your hair.”
“What? Why?” he asks, brows furrowed as he beams a smile.
“It’s super fluffy lookin’. Would make a good pillow.” 
Seb shrugs as he sits up to pop his back, while I roll onto mine. Morning breath, bedhead, and all, he’s still one of the most attractive people I’ve ever met. I can only imagine how crusty I look, on the other hand.
“Sorry about knocking out so fast last night,” I sheepishly apologize.
“Me too,” he follows. “I tried waiting until you stopped leaning on me to sneak out, but once 4ish came around, I nodded off.”
“Oh Yoba, I fell asleep on you?” 
He laughs, “It’s fine, I was just glad you were getting some rest after the tough day you had.” The butterflies in my tummy flutter at his concern. “Mom’s gonna be so annoying about this, though,” he groans as he stretches his arms over his head, subsequently rubbing his eyes. 
“Why? Is she not a fan of you sleeping out?”
He chuckles, shaking his head, “She hasn’t worried about my whereabouts in over a decade, probably.”
He flops back down next to me, and I shimmy onto my side to face him, blushing at how close we are once more.  Ha... I thought Sam hovering over me on the beach felt so scandalous , meanwhile I’m just comfortably bashful with this whole hunk a couple of inches away. 
“It’s kind of funny, uh…” he goes on, sighing and closing his eyes. “She’s been wanting to set us up.” 
“ O-oh?”
“Yeah…” He sighs, his lids opening to reveal the deep indigo orbs locking onto my (e/c) ones. “She thinks you’re really great, (y/n).”
I feel so frickin’ soft — Robin’s been so caring and helpful towards me. It’s just rad to know it was genuine, you know? Not just out of moral obligation or something… A shy smile creeps up on me.
“Which is why,” he sighs, propping himself up on his side, “she’s going to pester me for sleeping here. And why she thinks we would be a good match. Allegedly...” He shrugs and rolls his eyes teasingly during that last word. I spot the corner of his mouth twitching, underneath the light blush across his skin. 
“Who woulda thunk,” I respond quietly, reaching up to touch and admire his dark quartz — onyx, maybe? — gauges, “that I’d be such a hot commodity in the valley?” 
Seb tilts his head a little to let me get a better look at his piercings, his gaze honing back onto me once I lower my hand. “Of course. What else are all, like, 5 of us here going to do when a cute new girl shows up?” 
...Cute?
I lean up a little to match him, as my face contorts into a shit-eating grin. “Cute, huh?” I pair it with an annoying dance of my eyebrows.
Seb glares at me, a mischievous glint in his eye, and he pushes me back down to where I was. He scoots over a bit. I assume he’s about to crawl over me so he can get off the bed. Instead, he maneuvers himself on top of me. He softly “mhm”s, answering my question, his face is no more than 2 inches from mine.
Our noses almost touching, combined with the slight breeze of his breath on my lips, makes me shudder involuntarily. I feel a deep crimson forming on my face, as if I wasn’t easy enough to read already. 
Fuuuuck , this is hot… no! You gotta contain yourself, (y/n). He basically called me a bottom at the Egg Fest, but I want to be a power bottom, damnit! This is the time to Prove! Him! Wrong! 
Seb uses his thumb and forefinger to gently take hold of my chin, and slightly tilts my face to the side. As he does this, he lowers his head down further, his lips brushing my ear in the process. “You heard me, baby,” he basically purrs.
“B-baby?” I squeak, stunned.
I let out a shaky breath as I turn to goo beneath him. So much for being a power bottom. I feel him smile against my skin… and then he’s gone.  He makes his way to my bathroom, chuckling to himself. Cheeky little prick.
For a so-called shut-in, this man knows exactly what he’s doing. Luckily, my hands are under the blankets, so he couldn’t see me clinging to the sheets to distract myself from the heat forming between my legs.
I lay there for a sec, and realize that maybe I’m actually kind of mad about what he just did. Very aroused - I’d easily still let him have his way with me in that moment if he’d tried — but pissed . Dude almost definitely knows I have the hots for him, which is whatever. But… should I just let him take advantage of that? Am I being dramatic?
“What the fuck was that bro ?!” I shout before he can close the door. 
“What was what?” I hear a muffled Seb respond through the walls. I groan, loudly, trying to let the tingles in my legs die down before skulking over to him.
I wait against the wall of the shallow corridor connecting the bathroom with the kitchen. When Seb appears, I shove him into my previous spot — admittedly struggling more than I thought I would. For a twig, Seb is heavy and strong.
“Dude.” 
“Yeah, what’s up?” he coolly responds, staring down at me. His eyes tell me he knows his effect on me. Or, that he at least has some sort of effect, if not the correct one.
Suddenly, I can’t form words. Maybe I’m just reacting so strongly because I’m incredibly horny for this guy.
What am I doing?
We stand there for a moment, my hands firmly cupped onto his arms, my teeth gnawing at the inside of my cheek. We’re looking into each other’s eyes, neither of us knowing what in the fuck I was trying to accomplish here.
I groan a “nevermind” in agony and smack the wall next to him before locking myself in the bathroom to cool down. I hear him chuckle from the other side of the door and just shake it off. 
I almost forgot that I’m still wearing his clothes, and feel a little giddy at the sight until splashing some cold water on my face. After I have a pee, I turn on the shower, and brush my teeth while waiting for it to heat up. 
Maybe the sound of me showering will be enough of a tease to get my revenge? Like, oh Sebby, don’t you wish you could see me? You know, washing my body? Uh… nakedly???~
…No. Stop it you little freak.
I look at my dumbass self in the mirror, staring into my annoyed, defeated eyes. I groan again.
I wonder if getting off real quick would release this pent up, sexually induced anger.
Only one way to find out, I shrug to myself, stepping into the water.
__________________
It did help a little bit.
I walk back into the main room, wet and freshly combed hair falling down my back, cheeks still rosy from the orgasm and hot water combo. 
I’m wearing nothing but yesterday’s bra and panties, and it’s totally not because I want Seb to be as sexually frustrated as he made me. No, not at all. 
It’s just that I put his clothes into the washer already… and that possibly turning him on would be an added perk to not having brought a clean change of clothes to the bathroom with me.
He’s sitting at the edge of my bed, phone in one hand and Cannoli under the other. The sound of my closet opening prompts him to look up, and out of the corner of my eye I can see him watching me. I smirk when I notice the device fall out of his hand. I peer towards him as he picks it up, and when he locks onto me again, I narrow my eyes.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I say, directing my view back to my clothes. 
“ …Ok .”
“Wait what?”
When I turn back, he’s lowering his phone. That fucker actually did it. He looks so smug! I wish that I hated him.
“Y’know, Sebby , I had the impression that you were so nice and sweet. Truly spent most of my time in your care yesterday thinking about that,” I theatrically monologue to Seb as I turn away from him. I take off yesterday’s bra, and replace it with a dark gray replica of the tank top I wore yesterday, no bra underneath. We cannot be contained today. “Where the fuck did all that go? Hm?” I ask over my shoulder while flattening the hem of my shirt.
He shrugs, seeming satisfied with himself. “I could say the same to you,” he boasts, nodding to my half-naked body. 
I roll my eyes, “Don’t get your panties in a twist.” I yoink out a pair of ripped mom jeans, and wave them slightly in Seb’s direction. “I’ll be in pants in no time.”
“Bold of you to assume I’ll let you in my pants.”
I snort a little while trying to hold back laughter. “Damn it,” I respond, both of us now snickering.
I pluck a fresh pair of panties at random, trying not to overthink things while a hot guy is watching my every move.
“Cute choice,” he notes.
“Fuck you.”
I’m about to head back to the bathroom to change, when he comes over and takes me by the hand.
“Hey,” Seb says softly, but sternly. I look up at him and furrow my brows, about to question him. Suddenly becoming conscious of just how exposed I am, I feel shrunken. Regardless of what he’s about to say, though, he’s visibly concerned. 
“I just wanted to say that I hope I didn’t cross any lines. Today or in the past. Make sure you tell me if I ever do, yeah?”
I don’t really know how to respond, it’s like a switch flipped. Feels as though he read my mind during my weird, horny internal debate.
When I don’t answer, he continues. “I meant what I said, when I called you cute, (y/n), don’t get me wrong,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “But I value you for so much more than your looks. And I don’t want to fuck anything up or make you feel uncomfortable just because I get… bold , from time to time, y’know? Just say the words, and I’ll lay off.”
I can’t help but just gaze at him in awe for a second while I process how gentle he’s being now. I smile and nod. 
“Thanks,” I look down at the pile of clothes in my arms bashfully.
He hums. “Now go put those on, you’re killing me.”
As if drawn by magnets, my gaze directs immediately to his crotch. 
Oh. 
Oh yes.
“ Bro , what the fuck!” he complains, covering the slight tent as I scurry away, fiendishly giggling to myself. 
As I’m putting on clothes, I remember that it’s Friday. I missed the past month or so of Saloon hang outs due to being balls deep in yard work after the first I attended. I want to go tonight, but I don’t want it to be weird. 
I opt to straighten my hair, so I at least look a little less messy than usual if I decide to have fun later. I don’t plan on sweating enough to need a re-shower, as I’m going to just spend today doing what I meant to do yesterday. It’s pretty sedentary work. 
While the iron heats up, I step out into the kitchen. I’m about to yell to Seb that I can make him some coffee if he wants it, but he’s already doing it himself. This feels so domestic, I love it. 
“Need any help?” I ask, startling him. I chuckle at his little jump. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head. “Just finished.” Stepping toward me, he hands me a mug. This is the same one I gave him last night… I peer towards the sink and it’s empty of the coffee spinner and couple of spoons I’d left in there.
“D-did you wash my dishes?”
“While you were showering,” he nods. “It’s the least I could do, since I’ve been loitering here all morning,” he says matter-of-factly. “And night.” He winks after that part. Bastard.
I finally take the coffee, feeling a little tickled that he thinks he owes me anything.
“You didn’t have to, Seb.” I take a sip. For fuck’s sake, I should’ve known that this dark and edgy boy would like his coffee dark and edgy too. “I like havin’ ya around,” I choke out while reaching for the fridge.
“Not a fan of black coffee?” 
“Not in the slightest,” I chuckle, pouring some fresh milk – thanks again, Marnie! – into the mug. I open the cabinet above me for sugar, which is on the top shelf, and brace myself for the embarrassment of having to climb for it in front of someone. I lift my knee, and—
“Stop.”
That sounded so harsh, for no reason. Super hot, holy shit, but like… still harsh.
I look over my shoulder, annoyance clear on my face. “No?” I keep my knee propped up, ready to rebel. 
Seb takes a step forward, closing the small gap that was between us. He looks away for just a moment to put his own mug down beside me, simultaneously tapping the lifted thigh with his other set of knuckles. 
He’s giving me that look again. Same stare that he gave me during his weird shenanigan earlier this morning, except this time without the smirk.
I slowly lower my leg, hypnotized by his gaze and very clearly not rebelling. I’m totally flustered. He’s standing behind me, my back pressed against him for the second time today. He leans over me with ease to grab what I was reaching for. 
He drops the lidded bowl into my hand and looks at me expectantly. He hasn’t moved. He ensures he isn’t going to move by caging me in, his hands clamping to the edge of the countertop.
“Thanks, ya freak,” I mumble, trying not to enjoy whatever the fuck this is.
He’s still not moving. Or talking to me, apparently. Ok, cool. Whatever. That’s fine. I’m fine.
I pour a few teaspoons of sugar into my cup and put the lid back on. He takes it from me and puts it back, this time moving some things around to get it on a more easily accessible shelf. Stirring my coffee, I glare at him. He beams, gives me a frickin’ headpat — what is it with him and Sam patting my head?! — and walks away with his mug back in his grasp.
I follow him into the other room, noting but ignoring that my straightener is likely more than hot enough by now. He sits at the table in my only chair, sort of giving me the advantage…
Even if my standing height is barely above his sitting.
Either way, It’s over Anakin. I have the high ground.
Sebastiakin?
No. Sebastian.
Don’t make this worse, (y/n).
“Ok we gotta talk about something,” I announce, putting my mug down with one hand and slapping the wooden surface with the other.
“What’s up?” 
“Two things, actually,” I elaborate. “One, why’d you stop me from climbing? I do it without you around all the time, I don’t need help!” 
“Don’t want to watch you hurt yourself.”
“Again, I do it all the —“
“Don’t want to take the chance of watching you hurt yourself,” he corrects himself.
Fair, but I won’t voice that I think so. I just narrow my stare at him instead.
“Whatever. Two, why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?” Seb smirks this time, but tries to hide it behind the mug that he’s lifting to his lips.
“You know what!” I whine, frankly exasperated from experiencing so much sexual tension today. He chuckles.
“Pfft, fine.” He puts down his much and leans his elbows on the table. “You’re easy to tease, and you’re adorable when you’re flustered.” How is he saying this so casually? “It’s just fun to get sort of cheeky with you, is all. Like I said, if you want me to stop...” Seb rests his chin on a closed fist as he gestures vaguely with his other hand, and waits for my response. 
Basically admitting that I enjoy his flirtatiousness, I close my eyes to mutter under my breath, “No, it’s… it’s fine.”
He laughs and shrugs, " There’s my little weirdo.” 
Totally gonna ignore that the use of “my” in his sentence made my heart go nuts…
“Oh, okay. So I’m a weirdo because I think this shit’s kinda fun, too?” I defend dryly, rolling my eyes. “That’s peachy, coming from the guy who thinks turning me on is, like, peak entertainment or whatever.”
He furrows his eyebrows and grins wickedly. Maniacally, even. I gulp. 
“(Y/n),” he growls, sending a chill down my spine. He shakes his head at me, eyes visibly darkening like some sort of fucking hellspawn. “I thought I was just embarrassing you.”
“Well, yeah, what do you mea— ”
“You just said it turns you on, yeah?”
…Fuck?
I suck in through my teeth, cringing at my own words coming back to bite me.
I don’t answer, unsure of how to. Even this is turning me on, how am I supposed to feel cozy after admitting that he’s been rattling my ovaries around all fucking day? Suddenly feeling shy again, I lean on the table, head in hands. Without seeing him, I can hear his evil snorts.
I look at him from where I am after a hot second, palms supporting my temple, still unsure of what to say. Seb is still waiting for me to rebuttal. He’s gnawing at his lower lip, not in a sexy way, but rather like he’s trying to stop himself from saying something snarky.
“My hair iron is probably ready,” I mumble before escaping the situation. 
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dorkydiaz · 2 years
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there'll be a day when you can say you're okay and mean it [1k | Maddie and Eddie bonding] {ao3} characters: Maddie Buckley, Eddie Diaz, Evan Buckley a/n: literally just 1k of Maddie and Eddie quietly bonding one night when they both end up at Buck's apartment. Okay so this really barely scratches the surface of maddie and eddie's potential, but i started and this is what came out because i caouldn't fully tackle writing something super heavy after last night, but i hope to write more in the future! title from burned out by dodie. nothing is explicitly mentioned but there are allusions to a suicide attempt and panic attacks, like very very vague but take care of yourselves babes <3.
Maddie turns her key in the lock and reminds herself the Buck had said anytime. And she knows he meant it. And she figures it would be empty, he’s on shift, Taylor’s gone.
So when she opens the door with shaky hands to find Eddie looking up from where he sits at the dining table, startled but holding a concern that softens when his eyes land on her, she’s surprised.
She hasn’t really seen him since before. Before the pandemic, before she even knew she was pregnant, before he got shot.
His hair is shorter and sticking up as though he had run his hand through it one too many times. He looks tired and worn in a way he didn’t before. In a way she recognized from the mirror 6 months ago.
He might as well be a shadow of the man she last saw, smiling, beads hanging around his neck, laughing with her brother as the camera flashed and caught their joy.
“I-“ he starts and even his voice is shattered,
“He lets you come here too,” she says a small smile playing on her lips at the thought,
“Yeah,” is all Eddie croaks out his fingers running over his scraped knuckles.
“Eddie,” she starts
“If you ask me if I’m okay I might actually have a conniption,” he says lightly, biting his lip looking at her knowingly,
“Gotcha, I was just going to make myself some tea, do you want a cup?”
“Yes?” He replies
“Buck keeps this blend I really like, it helps calm me down, honestly I don’t know if it is actually the tea or just a placebo but regardless it works,” she rambles as she fills the water boiler and finds two clean mugs in the dishwasher.
Once the tea is made, they sit across from each other in a weird mix of awkward comfortable silence, the sound of mugs hitting the table the only sound filling the air.
“So, do you have this shift off or?” Maddie finally asks,
Eddie shakes his head and clears his throat,
“I uh, actually left. Transferred to working at dispatch as a public liaison,”
Maddie thinks for a moment, a smile cracking across her face “you run the lafd social media? Eddie Diaz is being paid to run a twitter, well then,”
“Yeah, I kinda hate it. But Christopher was worried.”
She tilts her head thoughtfully but doesn’t respond, instead sipping her tea.
And a silence falls over them again.
“Do you wanna maybe?” He points at the couch, “Just cause I’ve been sitting in this chair so long I think my legs are about to go numb.”
She nods and so they gather their mugs and settle on the couch, Maddie tucks her legs under her and Eddie grabs one of the throw pillows to hold onto.
“So… what brought you here tonight?” Maddie asks over her cup,
Eddie pauses for a moment, considering his words, “Therapy was a lot today and Christopher is spending the weekend with Abuela, so the house was too big and too quiet. Cause the last time he wasn’t there I,” his eyes travel to the corner where brick meets concrete and metal and he hugs the pillow closer his fingers running over the mostly healed scabs on his knuckles, “What about you?”
“The house was too big and too quiet,” she echos, “Jee is with the Lees, and everyone is at work,” she smiles, “so much for a Friday night huh?”
Eddie smiles.
And they fall back into comfortable silence, the unspoken understanding between them resting in the air.
“You know, I ran too,” Eddie says thoughtfully, “and Christopher and I, we’re okay. He doesn’t resent me for it.”
And Maddie looks at him, eyebrows knit over watering eyes,
“I just thought you would want to hear that,” he supplies as he takes another sip of his tea,
“Will I ever forgive myself for missing so much?” She asks quietly,
“You’re here now, that’s what matters.”
A small sob cracks out of her.
Buck had told her how Eddie had the habit of just saying things exactly the way they needed to be heard,
“Yeah I am,” she nods, “God I thought I had run myself dry,” she says wiping tears with the back of her hand, “You’re too good at that you know?” “What?” “Reading people, saying what they need to hear,” “I don’t know, I think I am just well versed in Buckley,” he replies,
“Maybe,” she sighs, “You know, one of the first things Buck ever told me about you was just how wonderful of a father you are. And choosing to heal only builds that,” she says,
“I know. I just wish feeling like shit over it all again wasn’t a part of healing,”
“That’s the part they never tell you. And I know it’s cliche, but it does get better,” she smiles,
He nods.
And it’s quiet again.
They don’t talk much after that. Putting on the tv for a little company and eventually each drifting off to the hushed tones of houses being redecorated.
Maddie opens her eyes slowly, the morning light cascading over the apartment, the sound of the sink running, and their mugs gone from the coffee table and the tv silenced. A throw tucked around her lap and a pillow carefully wedged under her head.
Buck turns around as she sits up and yawns, making his way over,
“Good morning,” he says quietly, “you two okay?”
Maddie glances over to Eddie, his face slightly scrunched as he sleeps, “We will be. We bonded,” she replies,
“I always thought you might, given the chance,” he says just as Eddie stirs, “I texted Chimney,” he pats her leg,
“Oh, thank you,” she smiles softly.
“Buck?” Eddie says still half asleep,
“Hi there sleepyhead, coffee is already brewing,” his hand lingers on Eddie’s knee before he gets up, “he does not function well without it,” he continues for Maddie’s benefit and she smiles at him softly.
Yeah, things were okay.
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vibraniumwing · 3 years
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soft.
a bucky barnes x fem!reader wherein the reader comes home to see the super soldier with a toddler tucked in his lap.
WARNING: none! (all mistakes within the story are mine)
A/N: soft and domestic (and clingy) bucky, anyone? i’ve written this with tfaws bucky in mind after episode five where he was on the couch and smiled after seeing sam’s nephews. so yes now i present to you bucky with a child bcs we need that content, ,, good bYe for i shall be drowning in my own feels.
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---
“Do you really have to go, doll?” Bucky asked, watching you by the frame of your shared bedroom door with his hands crossed against his chest. A heavy sigh heaving from his lips as his eyes observed you pick out a shirt to wear, hands grasping on his black shirt and opted to wear that; a small smile formed on his lips as you slipped into the clothing piece, adoring how big it looks on you.
You turned to him with your hand on your waist, an eyebrow raised, “Unless you want to starve for a whole month then fine I won’t go to the grocery” you say teasingly, checking yourself out in the mirror before walking up to him, arms linking around his neck loosely; his hands circling around your waist in a protective manner as he pulls you into him. “I won’t be gone for the whole day, James.”
He groaned softly, wanting nothing more than to accompany you but seeing that you were going with your mother, he opted out. “You always say that then be gone for the whole afternoon.” he grumbles in between the kisses he gives you. “You and your mom take so much time at the grocery store.”
You threw your head back and laughed, finding his small whiny state adorable. You retract your arms from behind his neck and cupped the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks gently. “You sound like a child, Buck. I promise I won’t be long. Besides, you have Alpine to keep you company.” you motion your head to the sleeping cat on the bed.
“Now please let me go so I can leave now and be back sooner.” you tell him, pressing one final kiss to his lips before ducking out of his embrace, making your way to the front door and grabbing your car keys before turning back to see him standing behind you with a small pout on his lips (albeit he would never admit to doing such an act),
You grinned and walked up to him, reaching up to press a small kiss on his lips. “Sometimes it's hard to believe you’re this big scary dude that can take twenty men down in a course of ten minutes when all I see is this big baby.” you tease, a hand snaking up to the back of his head to play with the ends of his hair softly.
“Doll wait before you go” Bucky starts off, holding onto you, cheeks lightly flushed as he hesitated with his words, clearing his throat lightly before looking away, “Can you set up that damn Netflix thing on the TV before you leave?”
Your gaze on him softened even more and nodded, leading him to the living room and set the whole thing up for him, handing him the remote right after. “I’m guessing you can manage now?” he smiled shyly, the area around his eyes crinkling as he nodded. “Yeah, I will. Thanks, doll.”
“I’ll be back later, I love you, Buck!” You bid him a goodbye, looking back at him from the door and gave him a small wave, the male waving back before focusing on the TV, searching for that one movie you suggested he watch.
“What was that movie called again? RIght, The Breakfast Club”
---
Not even half-way through the movie, Bucky had somehow fallen asleep on the couch, not finding the first few minutes of the film entertaining. He somehow fell deep into slumber that he didn’t even notice the front door of the house opening until he felt something being placed on his stomach.
He stirred awake and the first thing his blurry vision could make out is the outline of a toddler sitting on him. “Hey James, I’m leaving Hugo with you and Y/N for the weekend. Our babysitter cancelled out last minute and I’ve been trying to call my sister but she hasn’t picked up any calls.” Damian, your younger brother said in a rush, putting down your nephew’s baby bag on the coffee table. “Thanks James, we owe you one.”
But before Bucky could get a say in any of this, Damian was already out the door and the sound of a car pulling away was followed. Barely half-awake, he stared at the tyke who was staring right back at him with his innocent E/C doe eyes. “What do I do with you?”
He takes Hugo in his arms as he sits up, placing him on his lap, his metal arm reaching over to pause television. “Y/N’s better at this than I am.” he mumbles, watching the child look around the room before he started to fidget on the larger male’s lap, wanting to roam around.
Bucky sighs, “Now why won’t Y/N answer her calls?” he asks the tiny human who was still staring up at him. He reaches over to grab his phone and dials your number, only to hear it ring from the other side of the house, inside your room. He dropped the call and placed his phone inside his pocket, now wondering what he could do to keep the small person alive.
“Usually Y/N deals with you.” He says, watching the small child struggle on his lap, clearly wanting to get down. Bucky finally gets what Hugo wanted to do and sets him down on the carpeted floor, watching the toddler (wobbly) walk around the space freely.
Seeing that the child was doing alright after finding a small fixation with Alpine who was now resting near the couch, he returned his attention back to the TV to resume watching the movie. His attention split in half as he continued to glance back at the kid who was now playing with the toys you had brought him and kept at in a basket in the corner of the living room where you deemed it “Hugo’s Area”
Bucky was finally getting into the film, entertainment written all over his face at the sight of the students dancing around the library until it morphed into one of concern when a small bonk followed by a loud cry resonated the room making him look over at Hugo who was already flushed from crying.
He paused the movie again and rushed over to Hugo’s side, taking the small boy in his arms, cradling him on his lap as he tried to calm him down. “Now kid, don’t cry on me. C’mon” he mumbled, raising him up lightly to look at his forehead as he searched for any wounds, relieved to find none.
“C’mon James, what would Y/N do…” He said to himself, standing up as he moved around and cradled the crying child, trying to remember what you would do whenever he has meltdowns like this.
“Oh god, right!” Bucky exclaimed as he remembered, quickly going to the couch and sat down, placing Hugo on his lap as he gently placed his vibranium hand on the back of his head and his flesh one cupping the smaller one’s cheek, wiping the tears that glistened on his smooth skin.
Seeing how the toddler was starting to calm down, he carefully spoke, “Now you gotta work with me, little one.” Bucky then proceeded to blow softly on his face, remembering how you would do that when Hugo was having a fit. “Now can you do that for me as well?” He asked, encouraging the child with a small smile.
Once he felt the kid do the same thing, he repeated the steps a few more times until he was completely calm, letting the child snuggle up against his chest, feeling how he would occasionally let out a small shuddering sob from time to time, making Bucky laugh at the adorable action. “Now what do you want to do?” he gently asked, the cold surface of his metal hand that caressed the child’s back making small bubbles of laughter elicit from the baby.
“Bucky wead [ read ] pwease?” was all that left the two-year old’s mouth, causing a small surprise from the older. Hugo then pushed himself off from Bucky’s chest and turned to his small corner of the room, raising his small arm and pointing his even smaller finger towards the bookshelf that was filled to the brim with story books.
A chuckle left the soldier’s lips, “Alright then, little dude. Go take your pick.” he then proceeded to let him down and watch as the toddler walked his way towards the array of books and picked out one, running back towards him with a big smile.
“Alright big guy, what do you have for me?” Bucky asked, taking the tyke in his arms once again, taking the book from Hugo’s hands. He let out a (very) fake gasp of excitement which made the toddler laugh out loud as his reaction, making small little wiggles of his own eagerness for the book.
Bucky shifted in his seat a little to be more comfortable, letting Hugo snuggle up to him as he opened the book and started to read, “Llama Llama, red pajama, reads a story with his mama.”
---
You were elated to finally come back home and fall into your lover’s arms from a long day of errands with your mom. After the Target trip with your mom, you had to drive her back home and help her with her own groceries and pack up everything with her over at your childhood home一 with an addition of having a few serious talks with her about your future.
“Seriously, Y/N. When are you going to give me a grandchild?” Your mother poked your sides as you helped her bring in the bags filled with her stuff. Ever since Damian introduced Hugo to the family, she’d been on your heels about when you and Bucky would bring one to them as well; admittedly you and him had been in a much longer relationship than Damian and his wife which surprises everyone even more.
You shrugged, rolling your eyes in a playful manner. “I don’t know, mom. I think I’m content being with Bucky for now.” you answered truthfully, setting the items on the kitchen island and turned to her, “Besides, we have Alpine! Our cat!”
This made your mother sigh, laughing softly at your antics. “I know my sweet girl, but I’m just so excited to see a little you or James run around with Hugo.” Her answer causes your heart to swell at the thought of starting a family with him some day; conversations like this with him are normal but are always caught in a fleeting moment so you were never certain about his opinions on the matter.
“Well you just have to wait and see, ma.”
Taking the bags in your hand, you walked over to the door and opened it with ease, expecting to see Bucky waiting for you on the other side only to be greeted by none. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you carefully stepped inside, assuming he had fallen asleep as he waited for you until you heard his quiet voice resonating through the living room. “Little llama, don’t you know? Mama llama loves you so”
You peeked at the source of the sound and what you saw made you just melt on the spot. Bucky had Hugo on his lap, your nephew playing with the thumb of his artificial arm as he listened to the story that he was barely paying attention to as he was already falling asleep.
Not wanting to interrupt the moment, you graced on over to the kitchen in silence and arranged everything as quiet as you can. The smile on your face growing bigger at the thought of how much of a good father Bucky could be; the sight of him with your nephew caused a thousand butterflies to dance around in your stomach freely.
“You’re back, doll?” Bucky’s quiet voice made you jump, head whipping to his direction where he stood with Hugo fast asleep in his arms.
You nod and walk towards him, offering to take him from his arms and Bucky disagreed, pulling away from your attempts. “Hugo’s with me, I’ll take him to bed and I’ll help you finish out here, alright?”
Chuckling softly, you agree and reach up to place a quick kiss on your nephew’s forehead, moving aside so Bucky can place him down inside your room.
You were folding up the plastic bags when you felt a pair of arms sneak up and circle your waist, capturing you in a back hug. Your back was flat against his chest, the warmth from his body making you relax in his arms. Turning around, you let your arms snake up around his neck, your hands playing with the ends of his hair, his physique visibly loosening up. “So your brother came here earlier and said you weren’t picking up your calls.”
“I forgot my phone, i know.” you told him, throwing your head back slightly to let out a soft groan of annoyance at yourself before looking back at him. You met his gaze and his eyes were filled with adoration and love with a spark of something you can’t seem to pinpoint. “What’s going through that head of yours, James?”
He hummed softly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “I was just thinking of how I want to have a family of my own with you.” he answered truthfully, not finding anything shameful in admitting his thoughts. “The afternoon I spent with Hugo made me realize I want that for us as well.” his words were soft and dripping with enthusiasm at the thought of being with you for the rest of your days.
This made your cheeks flush lightly, a happy smile resting on your lips as you were already in agreement of his words, “I’ve been thinking the exact same thing, Bucky. I can’t wait to have our own little minion running around the house.” you admitted, this time making Bucky smile even wider than yours, happy that you had the same thought.
“Also, not to brag but I think I’m his favourite now.” Bucky said out of nowhere, grabbing the small carton of chocolate milk from behind you and letting you go, opening the drink and chugging it down in one go.
You rolled your eyes at his words, playfully flipping him off as you sauntered into the pantry where you were arranging your stock of goods. “I highly doubt that, he loves me way more.”
“That’s what you think but Hugo made me read his favourite book to him so now I’m his favourite. He even said it himself.”
“Oh no he didn’t!”
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TAGLIST: @lunalovecroft @anchoeritic @harrysweasleys @https-bvcky @luana @weasleytwins-41 @angelsgrxzer
for those whose usernames are in bold, it means i cannot tag you for some reason. join my taglist! it's linked in the masterlist <3
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wolferine · 3 years
Text
Heart Skips a Beat - Part 2
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…
Warnings: Violence, blood
Word Count: 1837
Part 1
Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp
When Natasha sees your eyes close, she finally comes back to her senses. She squirms away from Steve, crawling under an ambulance and making her way towards you. She ignores Steve telling her to stay put and doesn’t hear Clint telling police officers the direction the bullets came from. All she can think about is bringing you to safety.
The ambulance engine is still running, causing its underside to reach temperatures that make Natasha feel like she is hiding in a furnace. She holds her breath from the fumes as she crawls to the front of the vehicle, throwing her arm out and reaching for your hand.
“Y/N!” she screams. “I’m right here! Hold on!” Her fingertips brush yours and she grabs onto your wrist tightly. You’re bigger and heavier than her, but the adrenaline gives her strength. With a massive heave, she drags you under the ambulance. You smear through the puddle of your own blood and it soaks through the back of your shirt. 
There isn’t even enough room for her to lift her head, but she grabs onto both your arms, digging her elbows into the ground and crawling backwards. “I got you, Y/N. I got you,” she pants. But the lack of space and your deadweight make it impossible for her to pull you all the way through, so she backs out from under the ambulance. “Steve, help me!” she shouts.
“Move!” Steve says to her, although his shoulders are too broad to fit in the narrow gap. However, his arms are long enough to reach both of your hands, and all it takes is one big tug for you to come sliding out from the ambulance. 
Your eyes fly open suddenly, awakened by the agonizing pain coursing through your shoulder like a lightning bolt. You scream, and as much as it makes Natasha’s heart hurt, she’s glad to see that you’re still alive. 
“You guys need to get out of here right now!” Clint yells. “Take the ambulance!”
Steve pulls you into a standing position and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you onto his shoulders effortlessly. You flop over him like a ragdoll, pain pulsing in your stomach when you bump against his chest.
BOOM.
A bullet shatters the sideview mirror of the ambulance.
“Go, go!” Natasha urges, putting herself between the danger and you and Steve. Steve runs with you to the back of the ambulance and flings the door open. There is no gurney, so Natasha helps him lay you on the floor and climbs in after you.
“Stay with Y/N. I’ll drive,” Steve offers, going around to the front. “Clint, we’re taking Y/N to the Quinjet! Hold the scene down!”
“Copy that!” Clint is just as concerned for your safety, but he knows you’re in good hands. Steve jumps into the driver’s seat and throws the ambulance in reverse.
BOOM.
The windshield explodes.
“Let’s go!” Natasha screams, ducking her head.
“Hold on!” Steve backs into a sharp U-turn. The tires screech as they find traction on the road to accelerate forward.
Natasha practically lays on top of you to prevent you from rolling around. From a shelf, she grabs a handful of gauze packets, tearing them open with her teeth. She rips your shirt open and presses the gauze first to your shoulder, then another to the side of your stomach. You’re completely soaked in blood and it continues to pump out of you with each heartbeat. Your face has faded to a sickly pale. 
“N-Nat,” you whisper, trying to move but pinned down by the pain. “N-Nat—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” she comforts. “Just keep your eyes open for me, okay?”
You see the blood smeared on her face, her neck, and her hands, too delirious to remember that it’s yours. “A-Are you h-hurt?” you stammer.
Natasha wants to laugh and cry at the same time. You’re so in love with her that even in the face of death you don’t even think about yourself. “No, I’m fine,” she says, grabbing onto your hand and interlocking your fingers. She looks over at Steve, veering through parked cars and roadblocks. “Can we hurry it up a little?” she asks in panic, even though she knows he’s driving as fast as he can.
“I’m trying!” Steve swerves around a fire hydrant and the sudden movement jolts everyone in the ambulance. Natasha presses down on you too hard and you grunt in pain.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”
Your vision fades into fuzzy shapes and blurred colors. Even breathing seems to be too much of a task for you. Steve parks behind the Quinjet and comes around to help carry you in.
“Do you need me to go with you?” Steve asks as he lays you across the back seats of the Quinjet.
“No.” Natasha shakes her head. “Stay and help Barton.”
Steve doesn’t even try to argue. “We’ll find who did this, Nat. I promise.” He goes to the controls at the front and presses a few buttons. “The coordinates for the Tower are set. You’ll autopilot all the way there. Just make sure to update the medical team on Y/N’s condition.”
“Thanks, Steve.”
“Everything will be okay.” He places his hand on Natasha’s shoulder for a moment before jogging back to the ambulance. As soon as he’s off the Quinjet, the door raises shut and the engines blast on. You’re several states away from New York, but at the speeds the plane can travel, you should be there in minutes. You just have to hang on until then.
Natasha leaves your side only to grab more gauze, pressing it against your bullet wounds to slow the bleeding. She rolls you to your side so there’s no pressure on your front or back, but grimaces when she sees that your back looks as bad as your front.
“N-Nat,” you try whispering again, but she is quick to shush you.
“Not now, okay? Just stay awake for me, Y/N.”
You’ve never felt so weak before. It feels like you were hit by a bus and ground up by its tires. Your mind processes in slow-motion—probably a side effect of the blood loss—and you already forgot how you got into the Quinjet. But the physical pain isn’t your greatest concern anymore. You just don’t want to lose your fight and leave her.
Natasha fits an oxygen mask around your face and the cool air is comforting, but you know your time is ticking away. You don’t notice the Quinjet hiss to a landing or acknowledge the team of doctors suddenly hovering over you.
“We’ll do the surgery in room six!”
“Prep a blood transfusion!”
“Two gunshot wounds from a large-caliber gun!”
The doctors move you to a gurney and wheel you off the Quinjet. Natasha holds onto your hand as they take you to the surgery room, but a doctor stops her from entering with you.
“No, Romanoff. You gotta stay out here. We’ll take it from here.”
Natasha doesn’t fight back, letting your fingers slip through hers as you disappear behind the doors.
***********************************************************************
“Any updates?” Clint and Steve finally arrive a few hours later, but you’re still in surgery.
“Not yet.” Natasha paces the kitchen anxiously. Although she found the time to wash your blood off her hands and face, she hasn’t changed out of her uniform yet.
“Nat, you should get cleaned up. Y/N isn’t going anywhere,” Clint says.
“I know, I just…I want to be there when—” She can’t finish her sentence, falling into Clint’s arms and crying into his shoulder.
“Y/N is a fighter, remember?” Clint says, rubbing her back.
“But the amount of blood—”
“Super soldiers don’t go down easy,” Steve reminds her. “Y/N will pull through. And besides, you’ll be there to help with the recovery.”
Natasha nods, pulling away from Clint and wiping her face. “I’m sorry I froze when I saw Y/N get shot—”
“What are you apologizing for?” Clint asks.
“I don’t know—I put you all in danger because I couldn’t get myself out of the way—” she hiccups. 
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve assures. “In fact, you were the one who dragged Y/N to safety, remember? I couldn’t fit under the ambulance and Clint was just sitting around like a duck—”
“Excuse you,” Clint interrupts, and Natasha smiles thinly.  
“So, did you find who did this?” she asks.
“Uh—” Clint and Steve look at each other awkwardly. “Natasha, we—”
“Did you find them?” Natasha repeats with more force. Clint motions for Steve to explain.
“That’s the thing,” Steve says. “We don’t know who did this. We scoped out the whole area with the police. We went out more than a mile, but we couldn’t find anything. No shell casings, nothing.”
“Oh, so you’re telling me a ghost shot and tried to kill Y/N?” Natasha scoffs.
“No, we…” Steve tries to find the right words. “We think it was a setup, maybe like a hired assassin or something.”
“Who would want to kill Y/N?” Natasha asks.
“That’s what we need to figure out.”
Natasha knows you have a lot of baggage from your past, particularly when you were forced into illegal covert operations by the government. But it’s been a long time since then. You became your own person and changed your life for the better. Unfortunately, not everyone sees the side of you that Natasha and the Avengers do.
When Clint and Steve leave to shower and change, Natasha finally does the same. She dresses in clean clothes and curls up on your shared bed, inhaling your scent through the pillow and blankets.
Sometime later, Clint visits and knocks on the door. “Hey, Nat? Y/N just got out of surgery—” He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence and is almost run over by Natasha as she hurries over to the medical bay. She doesn’t know which specific room they’re keeping you in, but it’s like she’s drawn to your very presence and finds the correct one instantly.
You lie upright in the bed, propped forward with pillows so there’s less pressure on your back. Your right arm is in a sling and your entire torso is wrapped in bandages. An IV drip leads into the veins on your hand, while a blood pouch sends blood into the vein inside of your elbow. You have an oxygen tube up your nose and looped around your ears.
“I heard the doctor went a little overboard on the anesthesia,” Clint says from behind Natasha, startling her. “You know, with the super soldier serum and everything. Y/N will probably be out of it for a while.” Natasha walks to your side and kneels, gently taking your hand. Your skin is clammy and colder than normal, but your pulse beats strongly.
“I’ll be here as long as it takes.” Natasha raises your hand, mindful of the wires around your wrist, and kisses your fingers.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Click here for Part 3!
AN: Thanks for the amazing support from everyone! Definitely didn’t think I’d get that kind of response, but I’m extremely grateful for you all. The next part will reveal the identity of the shooter, so I hope you’ll stick around for that. :) Peace out!
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ptergwen · 4 years
Text
jingle your bells
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w/c: 1.7k
warnings: mentions of drinking and a suggestive joke
summary: peter gets drunk at tony’s christmas party and confesses a thing or two
a/n: today’s the day yayyy merry christmas guys i hope you’ve gotten and gave some good stuff!! i hope you’re all staying safe too <3 this was requested as a headcanon but i put a twist on it because why not
━━━ ➳❥
your dad loves parties. hosting them, attending them, crashing them. he’s actually known for it.
this year, he’s throwing a little party for christmas. everyone at the compound is coming, but there’s someone you care about more than the rest. peter. he’s one of your favorite people and closest friends.
your crush, too.
these things can be a bit overwhelming, so the two of you always stick together. you’ll sometimes sneak upstairs to your room and binge movies with pajamas and all kinds of junk food. it’s your own party in a way. you two enjoy the time you don’t spend at the real ones more than anything.
thor and bruce are currently doing their own rendition of all i want for christmas. your dad made the mistake of setting up karaoke. you laugh along, natasha dragging them in every way possible. steve snaps to the beat. wanda is covering her face in second hand embarrassment. vision offers tips that he searched every possible database for.
sam and bucky took peter somewhere a while ago. that can never be good. he’ll probably come back covered in whipped cream or something stupid. those two never leave peter alone. it’s kind of sweet when you think about it.
“thank you! thank you very much, children,” thor grins as everyone applauds the performance. bruce takes a bow. “we’ll be here all night.” you shake your head at the two of them. they’re too funny. natasha shares a look with you. “boo, get off the stage!” bucky calls as he enters the room. sam and peter follow behind him.
peter is smiling like an idiot, not that his smile isn’t adorable. it just seems a bit off. you really have to find out what they did to him.
“uh, this is my stage,” thor scoffs and grabs the microphone off the stand. grimacing, bruce puts a hand on his shoulder. “let’s calm down, buddy.” “no, i think we should do another one. santa baby.” he points to natasha. “hit play for us, thanks.” she sighs and puts the song on through the speakers. you can’t win with thor.
you watch sam whisper something to peter, then bucky cackles. tony and pepper make their way in and sit down next to you on the couch.
“what’s going on in here?” pepper asks you, nudging your arm. you’re more concerned with what’s going on with peter. “a sing off. it was karaoke, but bucky riled thor up.” your dad clicks his tongue. “that absolute madman.”
“he’s not the only madman tonight,” your mom comments, widening her eyes at the sight in front of her. you furrow your eyebrows and follow her gaze. your mouth drops open.
peter is dancing around in front of them. he’s trying to hip bump bruce, who keeps inching closer to thor. sam and bucky are doubled over from the other side of the room. they ruined your poor peter.
thor chuckles and pats peter on the back. he happily accepts it very much like a puppy would. he’s wearing a headband with jingle bells on it and there’s a weird stain on his shirt.
“little spider has been drinking,” thor announces, peter’s cheeks glowing red. that makes sense. you immediately glare at sam and bucky. they raise their hands in defense. they’re still on the hook.
“god, i can smell him from here,” natasha agrees and waves her hand in the air. “they‘d be able to smell him from sokovia,” wanda mutters. “parker? are you shit-faced right now?” your dad speaks up, a look between concern and anger on his face. his giggling gives him away.
“it’s christmas. you’re drunk out of your mind on christmas. i can’t have that.” tony points upstairs, signaling for him to go. you’re pretty sure peter didn’t process a word of that. pepper rubs up and down tony’s arm with a frown. “oh, tony. don’t be a grinch.” he sighs and watches peter try to climb into steve’s lap.
“he needs to sleep this off, pep. kid hasn’t had a drop of alcohol before tonight.” it’s true. he’s big on not drinking until he’s old enough. you have to wonder what changed. “i’ll bring him to his room, dad. he shouldn’t go alone,” you offer, already getting to your feet. “thanks, y/n/n. look at you, making good choices.”
you walk up to steve and give him an apologetic smile. relief washes over his face. “he’s all yours,” he laughs out. “all yours,” peter repeats in a giggle. “mhm. let’s go, peter.” you take him by his arm and pull him away from steve.
he’s easy to drag along because of the state he’s in. he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, your arm around his waist.
“you smell so good, y/n. sooo nice,” peter almost sings, sniffing you for good measure. “you don’t,” you deadpan. the two of you pass by sam and bucky on your way out. “you’re actually messed up for this,” you tell them under your breath, bucky gasping. “hey, miss stark. it was his idea!” sam yells out to you. you’re not in the mood to hear it.
peter cuddles into your side while you lead him up the stairs. his breath is hot on you and wreaks of expensive liquor from your dad’s cabinet. you never imagined you’d see him like this.
he’s still clinging onto you, so you open his door by pressing your back to it. “come on, pete. you have to lay down,” you tell him as nicely as you can. he stops walking in the middle of the room. “wait. lemme show you something.” he wiggles his eyebrows and shakes his head around. it makes the jingle bells on his head... jingle.
“did you like it?” peter asks and leans his head down to do it again. stifling a laugh, you grab his shoulders. “yeah, peter. i liked it. you can stop jingling your bells now.” “you should... should jingle my bells,” he slurs, smirking at you. you quickly take your hands off of him. “oh my god, you’re so drunk.”
he’s doing all the things you wish he would when he’s sober.
“are you mad at me?” peter pouts his lip out. “don’t be mad at me, y/n.” you press your own lips together and take a seat on his bed. he plops down next to you, pushing his head against your shoulder. “no, but i am mad at sam and bucky. i can’t believe they’d do this.” his face twists up in confusion. “and on christmas.”
“do what?” he wonders and settles his head on you. “let you drink?” you ask like it should be obvious. it should be. “no, no, no. they were helping me.” peter puffs some air out of his cheeks. that gives him the idea to blow into your ear. you flinch and push at his shoulder.
“peter, they gave you alcohol. it’s clearly not good for you.” “no, y/n.” he closes his eyes and lays his head on your shoulder again. “i got my own. they-“ he’s interrupted by a hiccup. you can’t help but laugh, pulling him closer. “‘scuse me. they helped me with something else.”
drunk peter is kind of cute. super cute, to be real.
“what was it?” you decide to entertain him, figuring he’ll say something ridiculous. “asking you out,” peter answers way too casually. you almost don’t believe him. then again, he’s pretty self aware at the moment. it’s probably because his powers give him a higher tolerance.
peter feels your heart speeding up next to him. he presses his head to it so he can hear. “you- are you serious?” you stammer, willing him to look up at you. “uh huh. i like you a lot.” a lazy smile takes over his face. “a lot a lot.” “peter...” he’s still going.
“i asked them for advice. it sucked. we were in the kitchen and i remembered your dad’s...” he pauses to think of the word. “stash. i thought drinking would make me loose.” he moves his body around for a visual.
you’re still shocked sam and bucky let him go through with it. it does sound like them, though. you’re more shocked peter likes you back and just admitted it.
sober peter would never admit any of that.
“you don’t have to change anything for me, pete. i like you, too.” you grin down at him. peter returns it and puckers his lips at you. “cool. does that mean i can get a kiss?” letting out a breath, you help him sit up again. he whines about it for all of ten seconds before yawning.
this isn’t exactly how you saw this moment going. peter is too shy to ever really initiate anything, and you never knew if he felt the same. you’re always trying to figure out each other’s boundaries. he has to debate with himself about little things like giving you his jacket or facetiming you at night.
he never wants to overstep. you never want to scare him off. having him drunkenly snuggle with you breaks all those boundaries. at least something finally does. the kiss will have to wait until whatever he drank leaves his system, which hopefully won’t be long. his powers are a possibility once again.
“it’s nap time for you,” you tell peter like he’s a kid. he protests like one, too. “but i’m not tired.” “yeah you are. you just yawned.” he opens his mouth to speak. you talk first. “lay down.” he’s caught off guard this time when you push at his chest. it makes him fall back on the pillows.
you giggle and take the jingle bells off his head. they can’t be comfortable. peter makes grabby hands for you. “come lay with me, baby,” he mumbles into the pillow his face is squished in. your heart flutters hearing him call you that. his arms do look inviting. they’re all ready to hold you.
too bad he’s on time out.
“i can’t. i’m supposed to be back downstairs already.” you unenthusiastically get up from the bed. peter groans, rolling onto his side. “i want christmas cuddles.” “you’ll get some after your nap,” you promise and poke his shoulder. “and a kiss.” he closes his eyes the literal second you say that.
you like this boy way too much.
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weasleylangs · 4 years
Text
secrets i have held in my heart - f.w
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Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Everyone in the twins’ lives mix them up once in a while, except for Y/N. Fred is dying to know how.  Warnings: Some angst with a happy ending, yes I wrote oblivious Fred again with miscommunication issues, what about it, some swearing, brief mention of the war but obviously this is a FredLives!AU :D, mentions of sex but nothing descriptive it’s like one line, - everyone is 18+ by the way!  Word Count: 4k
A/N: For the anon who requested super secret mutual pining with some angst where the reader is the only person who can tell the twins apart! Thank you so much for requesting. This has also been cross-posted on AO3 (frederickweasleys) as per the anon’s request! 
Also, I didn’t want to write about a 17 and 15 year old pining after each other, so I made everyone older and it’s postwar, however I was like 2000 words into the fic when I remembered George got his mf ear blasted off in DH so…. U do not see that it’s not canon in this fic thank you
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The sun is blaring down on The Burrow and everyone is starting to wonder the likelihood of getting heatstroke. They’re in the south-west of England and the weather doesn’t usually get above the early 20s in the middle of August, however, mother nature has decided to wreak havoc and today is almost 30°. 
Y/N is looking at the pages in her book but she’s not processing anything on the pages. She’s so appreciative of the relaxing life she and all her loved ones finally have. The war ended last year, and while Y/N isn’t family, Molly and Arthur are always insistent she’s welcomed at The Burrow for their Sunday roast dinners. 
So she sits under a tree, the muggle fantasy novel in hand as Molly is busy prepping dinner and her friends all play quidditch. Hermione’s been refereeing them despite having no actual knowledge of the rules, and right now, she’s waving Harry’s copy of ‘Quidditch Through The Ages’ at one of the twins trying to prove a point, fully aware she’s going to get nowhere with him. He’s laughing at her and he raises the hand holding the beater’s bat as he threatens to (softly) hit her with it when he looks over her shoulder and spots his favourite girl perched under the tree with his mum’s homemade lemonade. 
Before Y/N knows it, the bat’s been thrown in her direction, barely missing her and hitting the tree behind her, and when she looks up, she immediately recognises the twin as Fred. Fred and Y/N are almost two sides of the same coin and their friendship has always been considered unlikely. Fred loves mischief and pranks and he’s extremely exuberant where Y/N is a ‘stickler for the rules’ (Fred’s words, not hers) and she’d much rather spend her day reading than playing quidditch. But their friendship blossomed and eventually for Y/N her feelings evolved into more. 
But Y/N is one of Ron’s best friends, and having a crush on her best friend’s older brother is weird, even if they are 19 and 21. 
“Hi Freddie,” she says, dog-earing the page and closing her novel, accepting now that Fred’s in her presence, the book isn't getting read again until tonight, “no more quidditch?” 
The ginger gives her a shit-eating grin and completely ignores her question, “Darling, I’m George.” 
Y/N squints at him for a brief moment, second-guessing herself but the longer she looks at him the more she’s sure it’s Fred, not George in front of her. “No, you’re Fred. I’ve known you for how long? Just accept I can tell you apart.” 
Fred mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath as he sits down. He’s always loved that Y/N is the only person who can tell them apart, his own family struggling sometimes and especially when they’re apart. But no matter what, she somehow gets it right every single time and he’s dying to know how.
“You’re never going to tell me how you do it, are you?” He questions and she replies how she always does when he asks, blaming it on intuition and that she doesn’t know how she does it. As always, he doesn’t believe her. Y/N secretly does have a way of easily telling the twins apart, not rooted in intuition in the slightest but she doesn’t want to tell him. 
The truth is, the way her heart races when Fred looks or speaks to her is her way of telling them apart. Fred always has a mischievous glint in his brown eyes and the way he looks at Y/N makes her feel like she’s the only girl in the world. George is sweet, loving and exceptionally kind- he was there as a source of comfort and calmness for Y/N when the trio disappeared during their 7th year to hunt Horcruxes, when she and her family went into hiding. She loves George like she would love a brother, like how she loves Ron and Harry, but the love Y/N has for Fred is different and the catalyst for her ability to tell them apart.
“I’m going to get you one day. One day George and I will swap and you’ll get it wrong and as a reward for finally tricking the oh so wonderful Miss Y/N Y/L/N, you’ll tell me how you tell us apart.” 
-
It’s not even an hour later when Fred and George come down wearing each other’s clothing. Y/N’s well aware Fred prefers to wear warm and bright colours while George likes to wear the dark colours in their coordinated clothing, so seeing Fred walk down the stairs in George’s purple shirt and vice versa is funny, despite the fact they’re identical twins, Y/N thinks they look ridiculous and unfamiliar.
“George put the purple back on. You look weird in orange,” she says, as she goes back to help Molly with the vegetables for dinner and soon after she speaks, she hears someone angrily kick the table. She looks up from her potatoes she’s been peeling to see an entertained George and Fred who looks like he’s going to throw a child-size tantrum. 
“How!” He exclaims again, pulling the shirt up over his head, shoving it in George’s hands and stomping back upstairs to change. Y/N is about to follow him, genuine concern for Fred in tow. She knows he’s most likely just being dramatic to cause a ruckus but there’s a small part of her that considers he might be serious. 
“He’s fine, Y/N,” George states, changing his shirts and throwing Fred’s orange one over the back of the chair as he sits down, “I think he’s trying to rile you up into telling him how you do it.” 
She laughs at this, knowing that while she might not have told him, the look in George’s eye hints that he’s picked up on her feelings for his twin brother. But before she can say anything, Ron comes bounding down the stairs and right into the kitchen, Harry in tow. They’re both looking for food and when Ron’s hand makes his way towards the ham, Y/N smacks him.
“Don’t spoil your dinner,” she scolds which causes Harry to laugh. 
“But, mum,” Ron mockingly replies, “All the quidditch got me hungry!” He might be 19 but he’s sulking like a 10-year-old boy and Y/N thinks temper tantrums might run in the Weasley family. 
When Molly isn’t looking, however, Y/N sneaks him a piece of ham and Ron jumps up quickly, smacking a kiss to her cheek, “You’re the best!” he whispers as he quickly shoves the piece of ham in his mouth to not be caught by his mother. 
Soon enough, everyone’s crammed into the small kitchen and Molly waves them all out except Y/N, who she insists stays. She thinks it’s because she was already helping with the vegetables but when she’s about to ask for her next task, Molly has a rare mischievous glint in her eye.
“How do you tell my sons apart?” She enquires and Y/N groans. She hasn’t been asked how she tells the twins apart this often since she was at Hogwarts and before she can speak, Molly continues, “it’s just no one can besides us, and even then, sometimes I catch myself calling George, Fred sometimes.” 
Y/N sighs. She loves Molly like her own mother, but she loves to meddle like every mother. 
“I just know, I wish I had some excuse like a mother’s instinct, but I just know,” Y/N pauses and thinks how to word her next statement without spilling too much for potential eavesdroppers and Extendable Ears to hear, “They have different energies. I think I pick up on it easily.” 
Y/N hopes that’s enough for Molly to drop the conversation at hand and while Molly hums in agreement, she reads between the lines. She’s known for a while that Y/N carries a flame for the oldest twin, after all the way Y/N looks at Fred is the same way she looks at Arthur, so she’s hoping for the day they both stop dancing around their feelings. 
She already loves Y/N like a daughter, and she’d like it to be official one day. 
-
After dinner, the girls are all holed up in Ginny’s room. She loves staying at The Burrow. Y/N never grew up with sisters and her friendship with Hermione and Ginny are the closest she gets to them. They usually gossip, who’s dating who, who’s already getting married, sometimes it gets juicy and someone’s pregnant. 
When Ginny and Harry, and Hermione and Ron finally got together, they gushed for hours about how it finally happened and how excited they all were.
Tonight, unfortunately, the topic at hand is Y/N and Fred.
“When are you going to tell him?” Ginny enquires as she smooths out her face mask. Hermione’s braiding Y/N’s hair and when she doesn’t reply, Hermione grasps some hair and gives a hard tug. Y/N yelps and while Hermione mutters an apology, she doesn’t miss the wink she gives Ginny in the mirror.
“Tell Fred what exactly?” 
“About your feelings for him,” Ginny replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that everyone should have known. Y/N starts to stutter, trying to find words to deny her feelings but these are her two best girl friends, her sisters and she can’t lie to them no matter how much she wants to. 
“Okay fine, they exist but he’s never knowing,” she states, a matter of factly as if it’s something to be proud of, “and he’s never finding out. I’m looking at you, Ginevra.” Ginny inherited her love to meddle from her mother, and if Y/N is positive about anything it’s that Ginny is going to meddle to get her best friend and brother together. 
“I’m pretty sure he likes you back,” Hermione says. She prides herself on being observant but even she didn’t notice Ron’s feelings for her until he quite literally put his lips on hers. 
“I’m just his little siblings’ best friend, Hermione, I doubt it,” she says as she grabs the tiny elastics to secure her hair. “Besides, I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school.”
“You’re choosing now of all days to get the wrong twin? George is dating Angelina. Fred hasn’t even been seen with a girl since he slept with one of Fleur’s cousins at the wedding.” Ginny says and something about this makes Y/N blush, almost happy that Fred’s been single for as long as she has, but the jealousy is in the back of her mind.
“... Shut up,” Y/N laughs as she grabs the nearest pillow and smacks Ginny over the head with it. This causes chaos in Ginny’s tiny bedroom and soon enough all three girls are defending themselves with pillows and jumping around the bedroom.
What none of the girls knew, however, was Fred standing outside of the bedroom, eavesdropping. He’s always been curious about what the girls talk about when the boys aren’t around and Fred reckons if he doesn’t have to hear about his little siblings’ sex life, it doesn’t hurt anybody. 
Except it does, and he hurts himself. He arrived just in time for Ginny to question why Y/N doesn’t admit her feelings to someone. At first, Fred was hopeful, especially when the conversation steers in the direction of her liking one of the twins. After all, Bill’s married, Percy’s… Well, he’s Percy and Charlie isn’t in England enough for him to believe Y/N was able to develop feelings for him. 
So that leaves himself and George from context clues. He’s always had a crush on her ever since they were in school, but he was always worried about coming off as creepy, pining after someone two years below him. 
But then Y/N says ‘I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school’ and he walks off before he even hears the rest of the conversation, hearing the apparent confirmation of Y/N’s feelings for George. 
-
The summer is still sweltering hot when she decides to visit Diagon Alley three days later. She’s shopping for her nephew when she ends up in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Fred was unusually quiet when she said goodbye to him on Monday morning before she floo’d away to her job at the Ministry and she’s hoping to catch him at the shop during quiet hour. 
When she walks in, she’s met with a bell ringing and the voice that calls out ‘Hi, how are you today!’ doesn’t make her heart race so she immediately knows she’s caught the wrong twin at the counter.
“Hey, Georgie!” She makes her way over to the counter. It’s a Wednesday morning, so the shop has a lull in customers and he’s doing what Y/N assumes is a stock take of whizbangs. He gives her a nice smile as she potters her way over to him. She stops in front of the love potions, smelling the familiar scent of cinnamon, fireworks and something that can only be described as happiness in the small bottles. She’s so entranced for a moment that she doesn’t even notice George make his way up next to her.
“You don’t need one of these, by the way,” He whispers as he winks, looking behind him and seeing Fred standing on top of the spiral staircase not looking the happiest. 
“You’re the second person to tell me that this week,” she mutters, quickly putting the love potion vial down, “I don’t know what any of you mean.”
George chuckles at her obliviousness. It’s been obvious since they were teenagers about the feelings both Fred and Y/N harbour for each other but he can’t help but admit it’s just the tiniest bit funny. Like it’s a joke they’re all in on except the oblivious couple themselves.
“It’s because we’re more observant than you, darling,” George says, absent-mindedly fixing the display so it looks presentable. Y/N’s about to question him when someone clears their throat behind them- an elderly gentleman shopping for some grandkids when George excuses himself with the promise ‘this isn’t over’. 
Fred watched the interaction from the staircase and while he didn’t hear anything, he feels like he’s gotten punched in the stomach. He knows he’s never directly told George about his feelings for Y/N, and George is dating Angelina anyway and he’d never betray her, but he can’t ignore the slight feeling of upset he feels when he sees them interact.
-
“I think Y/N likes you,” Fred says nonchalantly and George almost chokes on his tea. It takes him a moment to fix his breathing before he looks at Fred like he’s got three heads.
“No, she doesn’t?” George questions, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world and that upsets Fred slightly. He’s not upset at George, he never has and he never will be upset with George, but it seems like his comment was brushed off without any deeper consideration.
“No, I think she does,” Fred says, twiddling his quill between his fingers as he stares at the tax invoice in front of him. Wednesday night is budget night and Fred knows he’s not going to get any work done if his mind is stuck on Y/N and her feelings for George.
“No, mate, she doesn’t,” George huffs and Fred notices the eye roll George gives him. George only ever gives him eye rolls when he’s being oblivious. Like when Fred spent 20 minutes looking for his wand last week only to find it in his pocket.
Fred’s convinced George is just being oblivious, blinded by his new relationship with Angelina that he hasn’t noticed Y/N’s feelings for him. “Do you wonder how she can tell us apart?” 
George huffs in annoyance as a reply and Fred pouts as he attempts to go back to his taxes. He’s reread the same line three times when George finally speaks.
“I think it’s got something to do with her feelings for us. She feels differently about one twin.” George is intentionally being coy, hoping to Godric that Fred caught the pointed stare and the emphasis but Fred wasn’t looking and the longer he dwells on what George has said the more he’s convinced he doesn’t have a chance with Y/N at all.
It’s the weekly Sunday roast again and Fred isn’t expecting to floo into The Burrow and be met almost face to face with Y/N. He’s planned on ignoring her today, purposely volunteering to do any work needed at the shop while George floo’s to The Burrow early in the afternoon. 
It teeters on 5 pm when Fred finally arrives and he’s quickly engulfed in a hug by his mother with his father behind him telling him to stop working on Sundays as ‘Sundays are for family’. With a kiss to his mum’s forehead and a promise to his dad that he’ll force George into doing the Sunday work next week, who throws a piece of stale bread at Fred’s head while exclaiming ‘you offered!’ he quickly makes his way away from Y/N.
Molly’s quick to serve up dinner now Fred’s here, complaining he’s starving already. He quickly steals the seat next to Ron and pulls George down next to him- not wanting to allow Y/N to sit either side of him. Usually, she sits between Ron and Fred and when she turns the corner and the only available seat is the furthest from Fred, her heat sinks a little.
Dinner is pleasant, it always is at The Burrow. Hermione and Y/N talk about the ministry while Ginny tells stories of her Holyhead Harpies tryouts she had during the week. Y/N might let slip she works with the coach’s sister-in-law and overheard some high praise for a certain Miss. Weasley and Ginny’s eyes fill with tears when she hears this. 
There’s a quick lull in conversation as Molly waves her wand and the now empty plates make their way into the kitchen, children following behind them ready to help wash up but Fred makes his way outside. He likes to watch the sunset, the sun slowly dipping behind the hills where he learnt how to play quidditch as a kid as the sun becomes shades of orange. 
He’s sitting under the tree when Y/N follows him out. She’s shouting his name trying to find him. He slipped out without anyone noticing and that’s unusual for Fred so something is wrong. When she spots him, she starts jogging over and she can’t tell if he’s ignoring her or can’t hear her calling his name, so she tries something.
“George?” 
Fred turns, a smirk subconsciously forming on his lips and Y/N finally feels seen by him in a week. “It took me calling you your brother’s name to get your attention?” She asks, kicking sticks out of the way before she takes a seat next to him. 
“No, love. Just shocked you finally got us mixed up,” he replies, shoving her a little with his elbow. He knows she only did it to get his attention, but he’s Fred Weasley and he’s going to use this to his advantage. “I believe I told you when you get us mixed up, you’re legally required to tell me how you do it. I’m all ears.” He wiggles his eyebrows but deep down, he’s scared George’s assumption is right.
She rolls her eyes, but the love she has for this boy in her heart can’t be kept a secret anymore. This week she’s felt like he’s been ignoring her and while she and Fred are no means ‘best friends’, not like she is with the others, she’s felt a little piece of her universe missing knowing he’s been upset.
“You and George, I… I feel different about you to how I feel about George,” she starts and Fred’s breath hitches. He doesn’t know if he’s going to storm off or throw up so he just sits and stares at a rock. “George makes me feel comfortable. He’s always willing to talk to me about anything, feeds into the fact I can speak for hours on end about any topic if you let me,” she laughs and her nervousness is in her throat. She notices Fred isn’t looking at her and it’s making her want to run away.
“But you, you feel like home, Freddie. The way my heart races when I hear you speak or when you look at me. It’s the biggest indicator of how I tell you guys apart. George and you may be identical but the way you both make me feel is so different.” She’s whispering now and she’s realised Fred is looking at her so intently that the Earth might open up and swallow her whole. 
“Like, home?” 
She smiles softly and takes his big hand that’s been messing with rocks into her small ones. “Like I can tell you anything and you’ll never judge me. I could be having the worst day of my life and one joke from you can make me smile even if I’ve been crying for hours.” Her thumb starts to rub along the top of his hand and the way he shivers doesn’t miss her. 
“I’m trying to say, in a round-about kind of way, that I’m in love with you, Freddie,” her voice is shaky but there’s no backing out now. “I’m in love with you and this past week where it’s felt like you’re mad at me has me so confused because I don’t know what I did.” 
Fred feels incredibly guilty now, he was so caught up in his own feelings that he didn’t stop to think how his actions would affect Y/N. “I thought you liked George,” he whispers, and he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I thought you liked George and not me and I didn’t want to be near you knowing that.” 
She giggles and drops his hands to run her fingers through his hair. It’s still short but she thinks she can convince him to grow it out again. “Me? George? Not even for a second.” 
“Why not?” The joking in Fred’s voice is there but so is the genuine curiosity. 
“I don’t know. It’s just always been you, ever since I was 11 and you were bullying Ron into performing a spell to turn Scabbers yellow.” She laughs at the memory, watching scrawny Fred bully his small brother on the train platform. 
Fred looks down at her, her hands now playing at the hair at the back of his neck and he feels goosebumps rise across his skin. He wants nothing more to lean down and press a kiss to her lips and when he realises he never actually admitted his feelings to Y/N back, he starts to lean down, hoping to convey everything he feels for her through a kiss.
She’s quick to catch on and she leans up so quickly they almost bump noses. It’s messy, like most first kisses are, especially in an awkward sitting down position but the love they have for each other is there and obvious. They pull away when they’re barely kissing anymore, just smiling and laughing into each other’s mouths. 
“Does this mean we’re dating now?” Fred asks. It’s a dumb question, they both know it but when Y/N pretends to think he stands up and hauls her over his shoulders and starts swinging her around. The giggles that erupt from her make Fred’s heart swell and he’s about to put her down just to get down on one knee himself and propose right then and there.
“Yes, Freddie, if you want me to be your girlfriend then I’m yours.” Y/N replies and Fred smiles, he loves that. Not Y/N being his, he could never believe she’s an object, but she loves him and he loves her and now he understands why George was rolling his eyes at him.
“As long as you don’t get George and I mixed up in bed, I’m all yours.” He says it jokingly, but the smack he receives from Y/N is no joke and when he starts swinging her around again, he’ll forever make dumb jokes like this if he gets to hear her laugh like that for the rest of his days.
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is-the-rat-vid-cute · 2 years
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I also have a rat intro question. If you do not feel comfortable answering feel free to ignore
My 10 week old rats have been with my older rats for about a week. They are also currently in the smaller of two cages they'll be in
This has gone generally well, except that my one rat has continued to act aggressive towards the babies. She hasn't drawn blood but even after repeating steps (putting them back in the carrier/travel cage) where they seem to settle down, when they're in the bigger cage, she'll chase them and grab them from near the base of the tail/their mid back. When my dominant rat tries to interrupt her, she'll try to chase one of her other cagemates
Does this still fall under "normal" rat intro behavior, or should I be concerned?
I’ve got a few ideas as to why this could be happening. The best intro process I’ve found involves a few 1+ hour neutral space intros, and then moving them into an empty (except for bedding) and deep-cleaned cage after they’re all comfortable with each other (cuddling, grooming, eating, etc.). It’s essential that the cage is empty and deep cleaned so that there is no smell of any of the rats in there. If something smells like one of the rats, they will think of it as theirs and feel the need to be territorial about it.
When you moved everyone into the cage, was everything in there deep cleaned? Does anything smell like her or other rats? I’ve found that often rats can get territorial when you start adding toys back into the cage, so it’s best to do this very slowly. Start with an empty cage, and after a couple hours if they’re being chill, add an open flat hammock. See if they argue about that, and wait until they’ve settled down (another few hours) before adding another toy. You want to be able to supervise for an hour or two after you add each toy to make sure it doesn’t cause too many arguments, since then you might have to remove it and try again later. Continue with this very slow process until you have a relatively full cage.
It’ll look super boring for the first few hours, but it’s worth it in the end! When I added my first hammock to my intro cage, they squabbled over it for a bit, but eventually realized that they can all cuddle on it together.
[ID: This video shows a rat cage that’s empty except for one blue hammock in the middle of the cage, and aspen bedding in the bottom. Two white rats climb around on the hammock, curiously exploring it. A brown hooded and tan hooded rat explore the bedding in the bottom of the cage. One of the white rats hops off, and the brown hooded rat climbs up onto the hammock instead. All the rats in the video appear very curious and are constantly investigating their surroundings. /end ID]
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Since she hasn’t drawn blood, I wouldn’t say it’s aggression, but I’d do some troubleshooting to figure out why she’s feeling territorial. Don’t be afraid to take it slow! Feel free to send more asks if you have any more questions, I’m always happy to help with stuff like this!
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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years
Text
Don’t Worry - Harry Styles
a/n: i’m so excited about this!!! this fic is my take on the song Don’t Worry by The 1975 for @harrystylescherry ‘s Playlist fic challenge! it took me a lot longer to finish this one, mostly because i chose to write about a topic that’s painfully close to my heart and life and i hope to help those of you who are struggling with similar problems. it’s a touchy subject and i really hope i can at least help just for a little by putting this piece out! also, huge thanks to Nat for this challenge and i can’t wait to read all the other fics!!
warning: eating disorder, lots of self-hatred but even more fluff and love!
word count: 3.8k
masterlist
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Your teeth sink into your bottom lip a little harder than they should, it’s starting to feel painful but you don’t even realize. You’re way too fixated on the Instagram post in front of you, swiping through the same four pictures over and over again, crippling anxiety crawling up your spine, clouding your every thought.
Oh how you wish you could say that you’re not the jealous type. Well, in a way, you are not. You don’t think your boyfriend would ever cheat on you or leave you, that’s just not him as a person. Your jealousy roots in your insecurities about your body and it creates more of a confusion in your head about why Harry, your boyfriend of three years is really dating you when he could have anyone, any model or super gorgeous singer, actress out there, yet he settled for… you.
Your thumb swipes across the screen again as you keep staring at the bikini photos Kendall Jenner has recently posted. She is stunning, the perfect model type with her long legs, skinny torso and snatched waist. Hell, she could make you question your sexuality on other days even, but today she is feeding your burning insecurities.
The thought that at one point in life, your boyfriend was with her makes you feel sick, because you are simply nothing like her. In every sense, you are what others like to call curvy, however you often use other terms, some not too nice ones on your worse days. Your hips are wide, holding quite some meat on them, your full thighs never heard of such thing as thigh gaps, not even when you were a kid. Your tummy brings you a headache sometimes when you want to wear something tight, the urge to hide it stronger than your fashion sense. It’s been ages since you last dared to step out of the house without a bra on, your full breasts always need the support if you don’t want them to sit a little lower on your chest than what you prefer. There are rolls, extra skin, stretch marks and all that jazz on your body and has been for a long time. No model looks like this and you are more than aware of that. But if your boyfriend can get any of them, why did he settle for you?
Tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks when you finally close the app and stop staring at Kendall’s perfect body. You ball your hands to stop them from shaking as you make your way to the bathroom in need of some freshening up. The cold water in your face feels nice, but the moment your eyes fall on your reflection you almost cringe at your own sight, as if it’s a reminder of everything you thought about in the past hour.
What is Harry doing with someone like me? The question keeps playing in your head on repeat and you wish you had a relevant answer, but your tainted thoughts keep bringing you back to the same point: He surely will realize it himself and leave me.
You try your best to shake it all off your mind, but it’s not easy. Sitting at the dining table you busy yourself with some work you brought home, hoping the files will keep your wandering thoughts at bay, however the attempt is not quite successful. And then you hear the front door open and close, followed by Harry’s sweet greeting.
“I’m home, baby!” he calls out and you can tell he is in a great mood just from his voice. You force your best fake smile to your lips, not wanting to ruin his mood with your petty party. He walks in, eyes falling on your sitting figure at the table and though you don’t know it, his heart flutters, like always, even after three years together.
Harry is obsessed with you, to say the least. Every little thing about you fascinates him, he loves everything about you, inside and out, just the way you are and he vowed to never stop telling you how much he adorns you.
“Hey there, wha’cha doin’?” he asks, kissing into your hair as he scans over the papers on the table.
“Oh, just… some extra work,” you shrug, chewing on your bottom lip again, the skin is about to break soon for sure.
“Baby, you work too much. Take some time off,” he tells you, shuffling around before he disappears in the bedroom for a moment before reappearing. “Fancy taking a bath with me?” he offers with a cheeky smile.
Bath, for that you’d have to be completely naked in front of him. That cannot happen in this state of mind.
“Um, I want to finish this. Maybe next time,” you tell him with a faint smile.
“You sure? I could massage your shoulders the way you like it so much, we could try that new bath salt we bought.”
“I really want to get this done, H. You just go and enjoy your bath,” you insist, the stern voice catches him a little by surprise.
“Everything alright baby?” His eyebrows pull together as he watches you from across the room.
“Mm, everything is fine. Just… working,” you tell him, eyes on the papers in front of you, pretending like you’re reading the lines, but in reality you have absolutely no idea what the words are saying. You hear him mumble a soft alright before he disappears again, leaving you alone.
A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips once you hear the water running in the bathroom. You bury your face in your palms, feeling so defeated and lost, the only thing that would comfort you would be Harry, but he cannot know what’s been going on in your head. He would never understand the struggle.
These thoughts usually only last for a few days. You always manage to forget about them eventually and return to normality, but not this time. Days turn into weeks and you find yourself sinking deeper into the hole you created for yourself. It starts to effect more parts of your life too. You’re having a hard time sleeping, always waking up several times during the night and sometimes you don’t even fall back asleep after one point. You lose your appetite, your mind tells you that you don’t need the nutritious food, that you need to lose the fat because that’s the only way you can keep Harry. You stop wearing your favorite clothes, always opt for the looser ones that hide every inch of your body and spend way too much time zoned out. You keep catching yourself completely lost in your thoughts during the day, thinking about how Harry might be comparing you to his exes every time he sees you, especially naked.
It’s been long since the last time you were intimate with Harry and you feel so bad for it, but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to bare your body in front of him. You always blew him off with some lame excuse and though there’s a chance he didn’t catch onto whatever was going on, now you know he is suspicious.
And you’re right. Harry notices every little thing, all the changes you’ve been going through. How you leave half your plate uneaten at dinner or how he finds you lying awake next to him in the middle of the night. He also notices how your favorite dresses and shirts remain untouched through the weeks even though you always wear them whenever you have the chance. Instead, he only sees you in big hoodies and loose pants, hiding the delicious curves of your body. But what truly pains him is how you’ve been ignoring all his tries to get close to you, the way you move away from his touch.
The last straw however happens on a Friday afternoon. You are sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking through Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch when Harry is roaming through the cabinets in the bathroom, looking for the lotion he only uses when his skin feels extremely dry. He is going through every drawer and shelf, not finding what he is looking for, but then something odd catches his attention. Some weird named pills are sitting at the back of one of the shelves, hidden behind your perfumes so he hasn’t noticed it, but as he takes it out to have a better look at them, he almost throws them across the room. He has heard of similar pills before, they do more harm than help in weightloss, ruining your digestive system so badly you can actually get way more serious health problems if you use them too long. He frantically tears the box open and see that one third of the pills are gone, meaning that you’ve been taking them for a little while now behind his back.
With the box in his hand, he marches out to the living room where you are still and holding the pills up, he needs everything in him not to flip immediately.
“What the fuck are these?” he grits through his teeth. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he was never supposed to find those, but the cat’s out of the bad and now you can’t think of anything to bring up to your defense, knowing well he very much does not approve these kind of stuff.
“They are… I’m doing a cleanse,” you say, but there’s no use to lie.
“Drinking juice is for cleansing, this shit ruins your body,” he spats, throwing the box to the couch and you bite into your bottom lip, feeling the tears building up already. “Why would you even think about taking these?”
“Why?” you chuckle bitterly, your vision blurry from the tears. “Oh come on, don’t be so oblivious.”
“Y/N, these stuff are dangerous!” his anger turns into despair and concern as he sits beside you on the couch. “Baby, why did you take them?”
“Because I’m desperate, Harry!” you snap at him, the hot tears running down your cheeks. “You have no idea what I go through every fucking day!”
“Then talk to me! I want to know everything, I want to help you!” he pleads, reaching for your hand but you move away from him. “Please talk to me, baby!”
“So you can feed me lies? I’m not naïve, Harry,” you shake your head vigorously.
“What are you talking about?”
“Me! I’m talking about… this,” you growl gesturing at yourself. Harry runs his gaze down your body, but he still can’t figure out what this is about. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, he has no idea what the matter is. “I’m not one of your exes and all those models you’ve been rumored to date, Harry.”
“Okay and why is that relevant?”
“Because how am I the right person for someone like you? I’m not skinny, I’m not pretty and I’ll probably never be anything like the girls you dated. Why are you even wasting your time on me?”
By the time you get to the end, your tears are flooding and it breaks Harry’s heart to see you like this. Feeling so unworthy when in his eyes, you deserve everything. You’re perfect.
“I’m not wasting anything on you, baby. Why do you even want to look like them? I love every inch of your beautiful body!”
You flinch at his words. Deep down you know he means them, but there’s this barricade on your mind that tells you he is not serious, that he is only saying those things because he feels like he has to say them, not because he means them. That evil little voice in your head keeps telling you not to believe anything he says.
How could he love your body? How could a man like him be okay with someone like you? He doesn’t want to be with you. He’ll realize it and leave you!
You wish you could turn it off, you wish there was a switch that would shut out all these thoughts, but they just keep coming and coming. Harry watches you break right in front of his eyes and he has no idea what to do, panic is setting in. He feels like a failure that he let you reach this point.
“Baby, I fucking love you. Everything about you. Please don’t feel like you have to change for me. I love you no matter what, I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. If you want to change, do it because you want to do it for yourself! You don’t have to change for me!”
He is practically begging, desperate to get you to understand that you’re perfect to him just the way you are, that he is in love with every inch of your beautiful body. He reaches out to your face again and though you move away again and it pains him so much, he still goes through with the action and cups your face in his hand. His clammy palm meets your wet cheek as he turns your head so he can look into your eyes, but you are relentlessly keeping your gaze focused anywhere but him.
You can’t bear looking at him or yourself, you just want to disappear, vanish into nothing, existence right now feels like just too much.
“Love, please look at me,” he quietly begs and you shake your head no. “Please, let me see those beautiful eyes I love so much.”
You wince at his words and try to turn your head away, but he cups the other side of your face with his other hand, keeping it in place. Your eyes are wired shut, you just can’t look at him, it would break you.
Harry is kneeling next to the couch now where you are curled up, your arms wrapped around your knees as you try to hide yourself. You feel so lost, so miserable and you wish he didn’t see you like this.
“I can’t, Harry. I can’t,” you tell him shaking your head vigorously. Part of you feels so stupid for acting like this, but you just can’t help it. It’s not you anymore who is in charge of your mind and actions, you feel more like just a witness who sees herself from the outside and she doesn’t like what she sees, not even a bit.
Harry pushes himself up from the ground and takes the thick blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you as he shimmies himself next to you, arms wrapping around your frame as he pulls you to his chest, covering you with the warm blanket as if it was some kind of shield from the world and that’s exactly what you need. A hiding spot.
You let him pull you to him, face buried into his chest as you sob into his shirt, his strong arms holding you so tight, you feel like nothing can hurt you with his hold around you.
“I love you, baby. I really do. And when I tell you I find you gorgeous and that how pretty I think you are, that’s the truth. I love everything about you. Fell in love with you the first time I saw you and I’m not even joking. Please don’t ever think that you have to change for me.”
“But I can’t stop thinking about how I’m so different from the people you’ve dated,” you whimper shaking your head. His hands squeeze your upper arm as he kisses the crown of your head.
“Different is not bad, baby. I didn’t date my previous girlfriends because they looked the way they did. If I’m thinking about it, I should feel a little offended you think I’m so shallow to care about these stuff,” he jokes, earning a faint huff that’s somewhat a laugh from you.
“I just think that you’re not blind.”
“That is correct,” he chuckles. “I’m not blind, that’s why I find you so incredibly sexy.”
“I really don’t see how you can use the word sexy to describe me,” you mumble closing your eyes as a headache is starting to form from how hard you were crying just a minute ago.
“What do you think there is on you that I shouldn’t find attractive?” he prompts the question in all seriousness.
“Please don’t get me started because we’ll never get to the end of the list,” you huff bitterly. It might have come out as a joke but there’s just plenty of the truth behind your words.
“No, seriously. Tell me what you think I don’t find attractive on you,” he nags and you give up with a sigh.
“Okay, I… I have fat rolls on my stomach,” you start off with the first thing that’s on your mind.
“Everyone has them.”
“But not as big as mine. Yours aren’t as big as mine.”
“So what? I love your tummy. It’s soft, keeps your organs safe, especially the ones that will help us start a family at one point. For me, your tummy means that you are enjoying the wonderful foods of the world, that you are well and have a great appetite. I fucking hate it when girls are just poking around their salads, complaining about calories and all that stuff. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy watching you eat? I think it might be a fetish at this point,” he chuckles, making you laugh as you hide your face in his chest.
“Please don’t say that.”
“Why? I love it when you enjoy the food, I love trying new food with you, cooking with you, see you satisfied when you’re full, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”
“Really?” you ask in a whisper.
“Absolutely. I love your tummy, it’s just even more of you to love on,” he hums kissing the top of your head. “Okay, what’s next?”
“I have so many stretch marks,” you whine with a scowl. “They are everywhere, on my thighs, my ass, my stomach, fucking everywhere!”
“I literally have nothing else to say than… I couldn’t care less. Honestly, most people have them, baby. It’s natural, your body is changing, it’s just trying to keep up with the pace. But you know what I’m looking forward to?”
“What?”
“I can’t wait till you have marks from pregnancy, Love,” he huffs dreamily and you can’t help, but smile at his words. “Those marks will be a reminder to me how much you’ve gone through for our family. I think those are just so wonderful.”
“Why are you linking everything with having babies?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks chuckling. “Because I can’t wait to have babies with you. I can’t wait to see you with a big belly, so I can love on you, take care of you and that our babies, I’m so excited for that.”
“You want all of that… with me?”
“Have I not made it clear to you?” he asks, looking down at you and moving your head your eyes finally meet his. “I’m not just saying all those things for nothing, Love. I see my future with you.”
Closing your eyes you let his words sink in and for the first time in a while, your mind is not trying to convince you that he is not telling you the truth.
“Okay, next,” he mumbles, his fingers dancing up and down your arm as he holds you tight.
“My boobs are weird,” you say out loud, cringing at your own words. You hate talking about this.
“Excuse me? What’s wrong with my girls?” he gasps, making you laugh.
“They are not as round as I would want them to be, a little saggy because of the weight gaining.”
“But they are boobs,” he points out, making you furrow your eyebrows.
“Yeah?”
“Okay, so that’s all that matters. Boobs are great, nothing else matters. Men are simple, baby.”
“I can’t believe you,” you laugh swatting his chest playfully.
“What? I mean it! Do you think I think about all that stuff when I see your boobs? My mind goes: Oh my God, boobs! And that’s it. I just get excited to see your tits.”
“You are such a pig,” you laugh, snuggling closer to his side.
“Are you shaming me for my preferences now?”
“Your preferences?”
“Yeah, you are my preference,” he remarks smugly, kissing into your hair again. “I literally don’t know how to say it differently, and I’m sorry for being so vulgar in advance…”
“Oh God,” you mumble, already fearing what he’s going to say.
“But you have nothing to worry about until you see my dick getting hard at the sight of you.”
“That was highly inappropriate.”
“Yeah, but it’s true. I find you sexy and there’s evidence. I can’t really hide it,” he chuckles and when you look up at him you see a dirty, twisted smirk on his pink lips. “Please don’t ever doubt any of my feelings for you, alright?” he asks in a more serious tone. “And if you feel like this again, I want you to tell me. Those pills and bottling it up inside you don’t help. I don’t want you to risk your health just because you have doubts about me. I love you, and when I say that I mean that I love all of you. Everything.”
“Okay,” you answer in a faint whisper.
“Don’t just say okay because you want me to get out of your hair. Promise me that you won’t keep it to yourself. I want to help you, I want to be there for you like you are always there for me.”
“I promise,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.
“Alright. Have you eaten today?” he softly asks and you fear to give him an answer, because you haven’t been able to push anything else down than just your morning coffee. “Okay, then let me make you something.” “I don’t… I’m not hungry…” you quietly tell him.
“Mhm, then I’ll make something for myself and being the romantic boyfriend that I am, I’m gonna share it with my lovely girlfriend as a cute gesture,” he says, rephrasing what he said earlier. You don’t argue with him, just let him slip out of your hold and go to the kitchen to make something for the two of you.
It’s a tiny step on a lifelong journey and you know that. You know that your feelings and opinion about yourself won’t change from one day to the other, but you slowly start to accept it. You have a lot ahead of you, the road might get bumpy sometimes and maybe other times you’ll have to take a few steps back. But at the end, you know it’s all going to be alright, because you will never be alone. Harry will be your greatest support through it all and now you can finally see that.
Don’t Worry - The 1975
When you're in love but you don't know what to do with it When blackness hangs overhead like a cloud
Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through
When you wake up and you don't know what day it is When the pain flows through your heart and your bones
Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through
When you feel no one knows just what you're goin' through When your insides feel much colder than snow
Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' Oh, don't worry, darlin' Don't worry, darlin' I'll always love you You
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years
Text
Critical Role: The Opposite of Cuddling
(Read on AO3)
Rating: Gen
Summary: And maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, but - “That’s not gonna work,” he says, feeling a little bad as her face falls. “I’m way too ticklish for that.”
Jester’s expression rebounds at lightning speed. “Caduceus! You’re ticklish?”
“Oh. Yeah,” he grins.
Dome cuddles don't quite work out, but the Mighty Nein make do.
Wordcount: 1.8k (it would be short if it wasn’t supposed to be a snippet fic aaa)
A/N: maybe i am just in the mood for cuddly gang tickles. maybe so. 
---
“So,” Jester is proselytizing, brandishing a diagram from her sketchbook into dubious faces, “if we cuddle up around Caduceus just like this it’s going to be super soft and comfy and warm until we get out of this stupid weather! Any questions?”
Caduceus puts his teacup aside and leans down to peer at the sketch. It’s really good, especially the faces. She must have drawn it while watching them sleep last night.
And maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, but - “That’s not gonna work,” he says, feeling a little bad as her face falls. “I’m way too ticklish for that.”
Jester’s expression rebounds at lightning speed. “Caduceus! You’re ticklish?”
“Oh. Yeah,” he grins. It feels good to see her happy, tail flicking as she clutches her sketchbook in clear delight - after two days of nonstop freezing rain, even her forceful cheer has been wavering. “It’s nice, sometimes, but not when we’re, you know. Sleeping.”
“So I could tickle you right now and you wouldn’t be, like, really mad at me?” Jester presses. She’s scooting towards him as she asks, practically trembling with excitement. It’s awfully cute.
Well, it’s been a while, but he can’t say he’s not a little eager for the contact. He ignores the looks from the rest of their group and flops back onto his bedroll, wriggling a little to get comfortable. “Yeah, that’d be good.”
“Um,” Beau says from somewhere behind him, a little strangled. Oh, right.
“We’re not keeping people awake, are we?” he asks, craning his neck to the various edges of the dome people have settled in. “Anyone set on sleeping right now?”
Beau makes a face. "That's not the weird part, Duceus."
“They can help!” Jester chirps, and then she’s cuddled into his side and wiggling tiny tiefling claws above his belly. “Oh, Ca-du-ceus!”
She’s pitching her voice as deep and scary as it can go. It’s not very far. “Yeah?”
“Where’s your very worst tickle spot?”
He laughs. “Telling you that feels like a bad idea.”
“Then I’ll just have to fi-ind it!” She tugs his shirt up with one quick move, and he barely has time to feel the cold before she’s latching onto his sides and burying her entire face into the downy fur on his belly. “Ooh, you’re so soft and warm! I want to cuddle you forever, Caduceus.”
It tickles, but just a little - honestly, he’s more amused by her. “Can’t say I’ve heard that before,” he chuckles, reaching out to poke gently at her side. “You’re not bad yourself.”
She squeaks, pulling her head up just enough to gasp at him. “Oh my gosh, Caduceus, did you just tickle me back? Guys, you have to come help me!”
“Nah, I’m good,” Beau snorts.
Jester lets out a massive sigh and flops back down onto him, and for a pleasant minute or two it’s just her nuzzling into him as he watches raindrops pelt off the amber dome overhead.
Then there’s a rustle, and some clinking, and before he can do anything more than lazily twitch one of his ears in the direction of the sound Yasha’s upside-down face pushes into his field of view.
“Do you mind if I join?” she asks in her quiet way. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
Jester springs upright, grabbing happily for her hands. “Yes! Join us!”
Caduceus echoes her, snorting out a quiet laugh as Jester regains some of her energy and starts to scribble her way up his sides. He doesn't have any quiet siblings - Yasha reminds him a little more of the mourners, so it’s always nice to see her reach out. He's good at appreciating that sort of thing.
Yasha smiles shyly down at the both of them as she pulls his head into her lap and starts to play with his ears. “These are so soft,” she marvels. “Are you ticklish here?”
His ears have always been one of his siblings’ favorite spots to tease him with, and apparently they haven’t gotten any less sensitive in the last ten years. “Yeah,” he gasps. “Heh - just - hehe - a little bit.”
There's a frustrated groan off to his right. “Okay, I’ll bite.” Footsteps track around to his side, fleet and quiet, and he waits patiently for a flash of blue cloth to cross his gaze. “But only ‘cause ears are a fucking weird spot and I want to see if this works on you.”
Beau crouches by his side and curls her fingers loosely. “I’m gonna punch you,” she warns. “Probably not that hard, but don’t tense up.”
He nods as best as he can while tilting his head to better let Yasha worry her fingernails at the backs of his ears - he’s not sure if he could feel more boneless if he tried, right now.
The heel of her fist strikes him right in the middle of his chest, fingers clutching around something intangible - that something scurries its way down every nerve he has, and he coughs out a startled laugh before he can help himself. “What was that?”
“Payback for growing lichen on me back at your house,” she quips, but her eyes are narrowed in clear concentration. “Okay, ears, ears… wrists? And knees? And - fuck, man, your entire back? Really? Jes, let’s flip him over, this is going to be good.”
Well, that’s unexpected.
“Wait - ha!” Caduceus yelps, squirming as fingers start to pry their way underneath him. “Hold on now-”
He’s bigger than both of them by far, but they’re strong and not above tickling the backs of his ribs until he starts to squeal. "You're so thin, Caduceus!" Jester exclaims, hooking a finger into the tender gap between two bones and wriggling it mercilessly - his back arches entirely without his permission, letting Beau pry him another inch off the ground, and he whines defensively. "We have to feed you more!"
They get as far as rolling him onto his side before Beau loses patience and starts prodding smugly at his spine. “Your ki is pretty shivery around here, Duceus,” she teases. “Trying to hide your worst spots, huh? Bet you thought we weren’t gonna take this seriously.”
Caduceus is too busy laughing to deal with - any of that, really, especially when Jester slings herself over him so she can reach his back too. “I’m - ahaha! aaa! - oh, that tickles!”
As if in direct response to his babbling, a small weight bundles into the back of his knees. He curls up reflexively with a strangled shout - it’s Nott, cuddling up to him with a shivery sigh as an invisible hand starts to pinch at his kneecaps. “You’re right,” she crows to Jester. “He is soft.”
It does feel nice, being buried under this many people and tickled till the marrow of every bone in his body shivers, happy and helpless, and when Fjord finally sits in front of him and presses a questioning hand to his shoulder Caduceus doesn’t resist the impulse to clutch his hands and pull him in closer.
Fjord comes easily, huffing in quiet amusement as Caduceus buries his face in him and Yasha and wriggles like a freshly surfaced earthworm. “You alright there?” he drawls. “You sound like they’re trying to kill you.”
Nott snorts from somewhere near his belly. “We should stop, then, we’ve only got the one cleric.”
“Hey!”
Everything abruptly derails as Jester launches herself towards Nott and, from the sound of it, kicks Beau right in the face - there’s wheezing, and then shouting, and then the telltale sugar-sweet scent of Jester’s healing magic.
Caduceus holds very still. "Is everyone okay?"
"Yeah," Beau confirms, mangled. He can practically picture Jester frantically squishing her cheeks around as she checks for damage.
A typical tickle fight, as far as the Clays are concerned, just with a different smell - the Wildmother's healing tends more earthy. Even though they’ve stopped tickling, Caduceus can’t help but laugh.
He’s not sure if he imagines Fjord fluttering light fingers along the insides of his wrists as he catches his breath, but by the time he wheezes out one last fit of giggles and rolls himself back over everyone seems to be keeping a respectful distance, if a good deal closer together than they were at the beginning of the evening. “I think that went pretty well,” he says, pleased.
“...so you’re stupid ticklish,” Beau says dryly, scrubbing a bit of dried blood from her lip. “No cuddling Duceus while he’s trying to be unconscious, message received.”
There’s a chorus of agreement from all but one - Caduceus looks around and spots their final member for the first time since they sat down for dinner, nose buried in a book and ears suspiciously red.
He hasn’t moved an inch all night, even to escape the noise, which leaves him only a few feet away from the rest of them. Caduceus gets the feeling he’s about to regret that. “Oh, I’m sure there are those that have it worse,” he grins. “Right, Mr. Caleb?”
Caleb’s gaze snaps up over the edge of his book. “Ja,” he rushes out, strangled. “I mean - nein - of course I am not - I am just trying to read here-”
Jester doesn’t wait for him to dig his grave any deeper. “Oh my gosh, Cay-leb, are you super ticklish too?”
Caleb stuffs his book back into its holster and holds a hand out preventatively, reaching with panicked precision for a strip of leather tied just above his knee with the other. “No, I am not-”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Fjord rocks backward and reaches out with one broad hand, latching onto Caleb's wrist, and Caleb promptly abandons all spellcasting to kick at him like a startled rabbit.
Despite that, he reels Caleb in gently, scooping him into a neat little ball before he heaves him into the middle of their little circle and squarely on top of Caduceus. “I think we owe you a nice, long thank you for this lovely dome, don’t we?”
There’s a moment of silence as Caleb presumably thinks about how easy it would be to kill them all in this enclosed space. “This,” he says, as severely as he can with his feet in the air and hair in his eyes, “is the opposite of cuddling, and if you do not leave me alone then tomorrow night I am going to make all of you sleep in the rain.”
Even the seasoned homebody in Caduceus knows that’s the exact wrong thing to say to a group of damp and grumpy adventurers - if the mood in the dome was mischievous before, it takes a steep dive into outright evil.
Beau cracks her knuckles. “Yeah? Let’s see what you have to say when we tickle you again tomorrow.”
And if Caduceus laughs as Caleb gives one startled owlish blink and then scrambles to hide as much of himself behind Caduceus as possible - well, that’s not from the tickling at all.
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colorseeingchick · 3 years
Text
Period Pains (Iwa, Suna, Bokuto)
Periods still stuck. Nothing has changed since part one. But these boys continue to comfort me when I feel like my heart, head, and stomach are going to explode :D. I hope they comfort you too!
A/N: It’s been rough homies. It really do be your own body that tries to attack you -_-. 
Warnings: EMETOPHOBIA (in Suna’s there’s a semi detailed description of vomiting); swearing; foot massage in Bokuto��s (Ik that makes some people uncomfy); gym bros. 
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Iwaizumi Hajime
It was common knowledge that you and Iwaizumi were two halves of one insane power couple. 
No questions asked, you both were generally independent when it came to taking care of your own matters, and you were both were pretty independent. 
But there were exceptions- moments where you would both lean on each other, using the other as an anchor and a crutch to get back up and stay on your feet. 
Your period was one of those times when times you needed your beloved boyfriend to play that role. 
Today was one of those days. 
You and Iwaizumi head over to the gym at around 6 am to get your early morning workout in before you go through with the rest of your day.
You had told Iwaizumi the night before, and he asked if you still wanted to “go gym” the next morning. 
You said yes, hoping that a solid workout would help with some of the cramps. 
And once you had got there, you had your hopes up. 
The first half of your workout was going really well, and you hadn’t thought of your cramps at all. 
But then it hit you while you were walking over to get your water bottle. 
You didn’t know why, but the cramps hit you hard. Instantly you went to the bathroom to try and compose yourself, but that wasn’t really helping either. 
You didn’t wanna bother Iwaizumi mid workout, so you tried to carry on. 
Unfortunately, that didn’t work out too well. 
As you tried to keep going, the cramps in your stomach got worse and worse, until you were pressing your stomach with your hands, curled over yourself on your yoga mat. 
Taking deep breaths, you tried to relieve the only worsening cramps. 
It wasn’t until a warm, firm hand caressed your back did you look up from your curled up form. 
“1 to 10.” Iwaizumi asks you with a soft voice. 
“4.” You say as you curl into yourself once more. 
It was the pain ranking system that you’d both been using since early on in your relationship. You knew exactly what he meant, and you were honestly thankful that he understood you were in pain by just looking at you. 
“Lying to me doesn’t do any good, ya know.” His words are harsh, yet the concern in his voice kills any intimidation that was supposed to come across. 
“7.” 
“Sounds right.” Iwa’s one arm wraps around you, digging into your side, his thumb massaging circles into the spot right above your left hip, while the other hand rubbed softer circles onto your lower belly. 
You felt your muscles untense as his hands worked away at your cramping stomach with deep pressure only he had the strength to apply. 
“What’s wrong with her?'' 
Both of you look up to see some guy (he seemed like a newbie, neither of you had seen him before) talking to your boyfriend. 
“What.” Iwa’s voice is dry, in shock at the fact that this dude was in your business. 
“Did she injure herself working out or something?” He asks, as if you were incapable of speaking for yourself. “Not being careful in the gym can be really dangerous, especially if you’re not trained.” He speaks in your direction this time. 
Iwaizumi Hajime (27) ATHLETIC TRAINER, now looked like he was ready to commit murder. 
Some of the regulars had now turned to watch, most giving the guy dirty looks.
A couple of you and Iwa’s closer gym bros step towards you both, making some preparations for Iwaizumi to swing. 
But before anyone can really say anything, your voice cuts through. 
“That’s real rich coming from you. The only thing that’s gonna cause an injury is your horrendous deadlift form.” 
Your boyfriend goes from a state of shock into a fit of snickers, the guys on the side also amused. The guy in front of you goes completely red. 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about you bi-” 
“I actually think she’s right. I was a bit worried, too.” One of Iwa’s (very buff) friends stepped forward, smiling at you two before putting a hand a on the newbie’s shoulder. “Let’s go check it out.”
As you sigh out, your boyfriend stares at you with pride and amusement both bright in his eyes. “All that pain and you’re still able to come up with snarky comments.” 
As his hand returns to soothing circular motions, you dig your face into his chest. 
The soft touches from Iwa were enough to ease your pains, and allowed you to embrace your moment of vulnerability with your sweet boyfriend. 
“Let’s dip and get food, okay? And you can just rest at home. You deserve a break.”
“Weren’t you saying something about how the grind doesn’t stop-”
“It stops when your health is on the line. Let’s go.”
Suna Rintarou
When it comes to you being on your period, Suna is by far the most hands off while simultaneously being the most attentive. 
Suna wasn’t necessarily the biggest on PDA. But when it was just you two? He had no problem being all up against you.
The only situation Suna does not know how to navigate is when he can’t read someone’s moods or behaviors. Luckily for him, you were overly clear with his emotions and needs when you were on your period, even if those moods and needs were all over the place. 
Early on, when you got together, he was a bit surprised to see how bad your period could get.
He’d walked in to your room one day to see you in a fetal position, rolling around on the floor.
He’d seen you go a full day of eating only junk food, upset and trying to satiate all your cravings. 
He’d also seen you go without sleep because of how bad your cramps were.
Essentially, he’d learned you’d go through really bad health habits, and he’d assigned himself the roll of trying to make sure you maintained some regularity while on your period. 
He was ready for anything, so ready that he made it look effortless. 
When Suna came back from practice one day, he couldn't find you anywhere in your shared home. Which isn’t a problem, but he doesn’t recall you saying you were going anywhere....
It’s not till he lazily stalks over to the hallway and hears a horrible retching sound that he realizes you are still home. 
Swinging the door open, he finds you perched over the toilet, vomiting in what looks to be a super painful manner. 
“Rin...ta...r-oh fuck” you can barely get his name out before you start throwing up again. 
Your boyfriend takes a step into the bathroom, but you toss an intense ‘no’ his way with your hand. 
“It smells disgusting… and… I don’t want to be smothered right now…” you sigh as you breathe between your bouts of vomiting. 
He takes a deep breath, recomposing himself. He knows your period can get pretty bad, but he hasn’t seen it get this bad in a while. He obliges, but he doesn’t move from the doorway. 
As you start your next fit, Suna’s face remains blank, but his heart twists. 
He slowly approaches you, kneeling beside you. 
“I said to not.. To smother me....” your protest is weakened by your body inhibiting your ability to speak. 
Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he gently grabs your hair, pulling strand by strand, until its completely out of your face 
(alternatively, if you have short hair), Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he lets his hand gently rest on your back, rubbing in soothing circles . 
Your hand goes up to push him away, but he grabs your fist with his larger hand, weaving his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb into the back of your hand. 
“I won’t smother, don’t worry. But I’m gonna be here.” He’s soft in his tone, unfazed despite the relative unpleasantness of the situation. 
As you finally stop, you fall back, your hands covering your eyes. 
As you lean back, your body giving out, your head finds its way onto the plush chest of your green eyed boyfriend. He doesn’t touch you, but just acts as a makeshift couch for you to lean on. 
“Rintarou.” “
Yeah?” 
“I need your touch.” 
Your words are blunt but effortlessly received as your boyfriend instinctively wraps his arms around you, languidly stroking your thigh with one hand and holding your stomach with the other. He adjusts you so that you’re pressed up against him. 
“Better, babe?” he asks as he backs up into the wall, loosening up as you relax against him. 
“Mmm.” You croon, sinking down against him. “I should  brush my teeth, I’m sorry you came back to this.”
“It’s fine. Get cleaned up. Wanna watch movies? I got Chinese takeout.” 
“I don’t want Chinese,” you comment.
 “What do you want?” 
“Pizza.” 
“...”
 “...”
 He sighs. “I’ll be back in 20.”
 “I love you.” you smile at him as you tell him what he already knows. 
He presses his nose into your hair, letting your conditioner’s scent fill his nose. “Mmm… and I love you.” 
“How much?” You ask.
“How much do I what?” 
“How much do you love me?” 
“Enough to get you pizza at 10 pm in the pouring rain.” 
“It’s raining??”
“Yeah.”
“...Nevermind I don’t want pizza anymore.”
“Well I want pizza now so I’m going.” He pulls himself up and out of the bathroom despite the way you tried to cling to his leg to keep him from leaving. 
“Rin!”
Bokuto Koutarou
Bokuto is honestly the ideal boyfriend, especially when you are on your period. 
Early in your relationship, when you got on your period, you didn’t tell Bo. But he ended up learning the hard way. 
He’d come back from practice a bit later than usual and didn’t text you. Usually he didn’t, especially if he knew he’d only be a little late. But when he walked through the doors, instead of finding his usually happy, bubbly girlfriend who usually showered him with love, he was greeted with you crying. 
“W-why didn’t-t you text me, Kou? Do you-u not care about me?” 
He had nooo idea what was going on, and he was very panicked and sad. 
He felt like the rug was pulled out from under him when you proceeded to snuggle into his chest 2 minutes later, cries completely stopped. His little owl eyes were wide open and very confused. 
2 days later, he asked about the situation again, scared to bring it up.
But you were really embarrassed as you explained how you were on your period and could get extreme mood swings. You apologized and promised that you’d never do something wild like that again.
But Bo wasn’t content with your answer. 
He went and asked Akaashi if he knew anything about what periods were like (he was shy to ask you). 
Akaashi found the lovely statistic of “period pain being of equal pain levels of a heart attack” and Bokuto lost his shit. “
I’ve never had a heart attack, but they kill people! And they go for the hospital for those! And she apologized for being a little emotional… that doesn’t seem right, right Kaashi?”
Akaashi agrees, of course. And sends Bokuto off with the advice of “she’s always there for you. All you have to do is be there for her.” 
When the next time you had your period rolled around, and you found yourself a little emotional, you did your best to control it. But Bokuto was having none of it. 
“Baby, you don’t have to hide it! You can be emotional!! I don’t mind. You always help me when I’m emotional! I can do the same for you. I’ll take the best care of you, I promise!” 
You would honestly call it a turning point in your relationship, cause this was when you learned to start really depending on Bo. And you realized just how dependable he could really be. 
When Bokuto comes back from practice today, he finds you splayed out on the couch, koala-hugging a pillow, whimpering a “welcome home” between grunts of pain. 
Bokuto stays quiet as he walks up to the couch, dipping down to place a kiss on your cheek before stripping his sweaty t-shirt off as he walks off to take a shower. 
Once he comes out, fresh and clean, he throws on a comfortable t-shirt and shorts before coming back to find you on the couch. 
He grabs your legs, pulls them up, sits down, and then places them in his lap. “Baby, do you want a massage? I can press your legs.” 
“You don’t have to, Kou, it’s okay.” 
“I want to!” He cheers back as he starts to knead at your calves, moving down to your feet and slowly pressing over your socks. 
You sigh and huff, slowly relaxing as the soothing feeling of the pressure applied to your feet counteracts the pain you felt in your lower abdomen. 
While Bokuto concentrates intensely on massaging your calves again, he perks up at the sound of a sniffle.
 Swinging his head, he sees you slowly dissolving into sobs. 
Panicked, he slides your legs onto the couch and comes by your face. 
“Baby, did I press too hard? Did I hurt you? Please tell me.”
“No, no, Kou, you’re fine. I’m just- I’m so lucky and blessed to have such a loving amazing boyfriend~” you get the words out as tears stream down your face, turning to look him in his big, gorgeous, gold eyes. “I don’t deserve you, my love.”
Now, for reasons unknown, Bokuto finds himself crying as well. 
“Why are you crying!” You cry and laugh out at the same time. 
“Because I have such a sweet girlfriend who always showers me in love! Don’t say I don’t deserve you. You’re perfect for me.” 
Cheesy as the exchange was, it was really soft for you. Because you knew Bokuto, and you knew he meant every word exactly as is from the bottom of his heart. 
Crying while your laughs got lighter, you pull him in and kiss him all over his face. 
He laughs too, and holds your face as he pulls away, swiping the tears from under your eyes. “Your turn!!” 
After smothering you with kisses, he picks you up and carries you to your shared bedroom, so he can love on you more, with enough space for both of you to lay next each other and peacefully drift off to sleep. 
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A/N: Gym guys who don’t mind their business seriously bother me. I hope you all enjoyed! Requests and commentary are greatly appreciated :D 
186 notes · View notes
otakusheep15 · 3 years
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SFW Alphabet - Solomon
This is for my best friend/mother as she is the biggest Solomon simp I’ve ever seen lol. Also, this is gonna be angsty cause I love writing angsty Solomon
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
He pretends to not like affection, but he’s a softie and we all know it. Really, all he needs is a hug and he’ll just melt on the spot. 
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
One word: chaos. You two as best friends cause untold destruction and cause Lucifer several migraines per day. Being besties with him also means being besties with Asmo, so be prepared for that as well.  
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He loves cuddles. Maybe it’s just the fact that he hasn’t had much physical contact in who knows how long, but he loves any form of contact. His favorite ways to cuddle is him on his back with you either laying on top of him, or on the side of him with your head on his chest. 
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
I can’t see him as the type to settle down, be he’d consider it depending on the person. And while he’s a terrible cook, he’s not half bad at cleaning and other household chores. 
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He’d be super blunt about it. Honestly, he’s scared to get with anyone to begin with since, ya know, immortality and all, so it’s been a while since he’s actually had to break it off. His main goal when breaking up with someone is to get them away from him, so he wants to make sure the way he breaks up with them will make them want to stay away. 
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Afraid of commitment. I imagine the last time he tried to commit to someone was before he became immortal, so having to watch them die made him vow to never get that close to anyone again. Then he met you, and all of that has been thrown out the window. He might try and rush things a bit, but he just wants as much time with you as possible. So, while he is afraid to commit, he’ll do it for you. 
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
He’s bad at human interaction, so he might not know if he accidentally hurts you, but he’ll be quick to apologize once he realizes. Honestly, he’s better at being physically gentle since he can control that better than emotions.  
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Loves hugs. They’re one of his favorite things ever. He just finds such comfort in them, and they’re great for stress relief. His hugs are a bit on the aggressive side, but they’re still very enjoyable. 
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
He’d say it on accident. And then he’d try to play it off to hide how embarrassed he is. It is pretty early on, but he does mean it with all his heart. Please say it back, he hasn’t heard it in a while. 
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
He gets extremely jealous. Like, you spend so much time with the brothers and he can’t stand that. Of course, he would never admit it, but he would try everything he can think of to get you away from them. Once, he almost resorted to food poisoning out of sheer desperation. 
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
His kisses differ depending on his mood, but they’re usually soft and full of passion. His favorite place to kiss you is your neck because it gets a nice reaction out of you. His favorite place to be kissed is the top of his head cause he’s secretly a big softy who wants to be babied.  
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
He’s not the most fond of kids, but he’ll tolerate them. They’re are fun to tease though, especially Luke. 
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
he’s either waking you up at the crack of dawn to work on some new potion, or he’s sleeping in until past noon and refuses to get up. Regardless, you are not leaving his side. If he gets up, he’ll drag you up with him. If he wants to stay in, he’ll hold you there until he’s satisfied. 
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
He’ll usually be up late working on something or other, but he’s never up for too long. He jins you in bed when he’s done, and he’ll cuddle the crap out of you an an apology for keeping you waiting. He’s also fond of talking to you about random stuff that happened throughout the day until one or both of you fall asleep. 
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
This man is one of the most secretive people to ever exist. He wants to open up to you, honestly he does, but he just can’t. he’s so worried that all of his emotional baggage will drive you away, and he couldn’t stand losing another person he cares about. So, he keeps everything hidden. With time, he’ll start opening up if you push enough buttons. 
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He’s really good at pretending he’s patient. On the outside he’s his same-old self, but on the inside he’s fuming. His patience tends to wear especially thin around the brothers (except Asmo). It’s a mixture of jealousy for how much time they spend with you, and anger that they refuse to make a pact with him. But he keeps it all under wraps. 
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He does remember a good bit of information, but he sucks at remembering small details. For example, he may know what month your birthday is in, but he cannot remember the actual date. Or, he would remember your favorite movie genre, but not your favorite movie in said genre. He tries his best though. 
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
He loves this one time where you tried to help him cook something. You were tired of dealing with the mess that is his cooking skills, and you wanted him to make something that wouldn’t kill you. Everything started out fine until you accidentally get some flour on him. It wasn’t much, but still. He just turns to you without saying anything before launching some flour right back at you. And then the casual baking session turns into an all-out food war. The kitchen is a mess and you two end up getting scolded by Simeon later, but it was totally worth it.  
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Oh he’s very protective. I mean, you’re a defenseless human surrounded by powerful demons who want to eat you, of course he’d be protective. He would never mean to over-bearing, but he can come off that way sometimes. He used to protect those he cared about before he became immortal, so the habit comes back with you now. He doesn’t need protecting for obvious reasons, so it’s all the more reason to focus on protecting you. 
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Surprisingly, he prefers more lowkey dates. Maybe it’s because he rarely gets any alone time with you, but he loves just chilling out together practicing magic. if you did want to go out, he would take you somewhere in the Human World to get away from all the chaos of the Devildom. 
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Obviously, his cooking could kill a man, but we’re gonna move past that since it’s low hanging fruit. Besides that, he has a tendency to by pretty cunning and he’s always planning some kind of prank. He also has a tendency to get jealous of the brothers a lot, and that can make him salty when you guys can finally hang out. 
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He used to be pretty concerned with his looks, but he’s gotten over it. He still tries to look decent since he is in the presence of some powerful demons, but it isn’t at the forefront of his mind. Although, since becoming besties with Asmo, his vanity has started picking up again.  
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Maybe yes, maybe no. He’s had to deal with loss several times over, so he could probably learn to deal with it like he did before, but you could be different. It really just depends on what kind of impact you have on him during your time together. 
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
We all know that it’s basically canon that he and Asmo have hooked up before lol. But I also lowkey think he’s hooked up with both Barb and Satan. I have no real reason as to why I think this, but I do and I’m sticking to it. I don't even ship it that much, I just think he would do something like that. 
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
He actually doesn’t like someone he knows he’d get attached to. He doesn't want to go through that pain again, so he wants to remain distant. Also, he doesn’t like someone who doesn’t understand or accept what he’s been through and what he’ll continue going through. He wants someone who understands and who he can talk to about it. 
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
He gets very clingy in his sleep. If he’s sleeping with someone, they can expect to be trapped in his arms until he wakes up. And if you try to escape, he just hugs you even tighter. 
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nhlandotherimagines · 4 years
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Everything About You- Mitch Marner
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@natbarzal @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19 
And they blurbs continue! Here is number 10 of the Up All Night series, with the one and only Mitch Marnie ❤️
I had a lot of fun writing this one, but just a heads up it contains a lot of crying, infidelity (not by Mitch or Y/n but still), anxiety/panic attacks, loss of a loved one, and of course some friends to lovers fluff in there too! I hope you all enjoy it ❤️❤️❤️
You know I've always got your back, girl, so let me be the one you come running to, running to, running
Today has not been your day at all. Work totally kicked your ass, and now this! “Isaac what the hell?” Your voice cracks a little, but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed. All you feel at this moment is rage, because your boyfriend of two years is sitting in your shared living room with some other girls’ tongue down his throat.
“Y/n! You’re home early!” He practically pushes the girl to the floor in an attempt to look innocent.
“Oh I’m sorry! Was that inconvenient for you? Please ignore me and go back to business, I’ll just be in OUR bedroom!” You’re yelling now, moving with purpose towards your bedroom. Slamming the door behind you, you pull your phone out of your pocket. Eyes filling with tears, you press on his contact as fast as you can trying to keep your composure.
“Hey Y/n! What’s up?” Mitch’s voice is sing-songy like it always is, but today it does little to make you feel better.
“I need you to come get me...” your voice trails off as your whole body begins trembling. “Isaac c-cheated and I just, I need to go. Please.” You’re crying now. So much so that you don’t register much of Mitch’s response, aside from him promising he’d be there soon.
———
“Where is she?” Mitch is angry, you can hear it from down the hall. Mitch doesn’t get angry though, and you quickly realize this might become a much bigger problem very quickly.
“Get lost Mitch.” Isaac spits at him, and your breath hitches in your throat. You don’t make out the words that leave Mitch’s mouth next, but you do hear a crash as your feet carry you towards the front door as fast as they can move.
“Mitch don’t!” The words leave your mouth faster than you have time to take in the scene before you. Mitch is gripping the collar of Isaac’s hoodie, and has him pushed up against the wall. Both men turn to you when they hear your voice, and you’re thankful, because it looked as though Mitch was ready to swing. “Please let’s just go.” Your voice and eyes plead with Mitch, and it has his heart breaking. He lets go of Isaac, but not without giving him a shove first.
“You’re not going with him.” Isaac announces, sending Mitch a dirty look.
“Watch me,” you shoot back at him before turning to Mitch. “Can you come help grab my bags please?”
And he does. The whole while Isaac cursing and swearing under his breath, and you easily ignore him. That is until you’re slipping your jacket and shoes on. “I don’t see what your fucking problem is! You’re the one whoring around with the entire leafs roster.” His words have you seeing red, and thankfully Mitch can read you like a book. He wraps a hand gently around your bicep, but hard enough that in your attempt to lunge at Isaac he holds you back.
“For the record asshole, Y/n hasn’t so much as looked at anyone on the team in a suggestive way. So some time in between being a dipshit, get your facts straight.” Mitch’s voice is cool and collected, and it eases your mind as he pulls you and your bags out of the apartment.
As you make your way to Mitch’s car, you feel numb. The whole situation runs through your brain over and over, but somehow you remain emotionless. Slipping into the front seat, you wait as Mitch loads your things into the back. You’re so in your head, you barely notice him get in and start the car.
“I’m sorry I called you, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, but Mitch hears you loud and clear. He immediately pulls the car back into the spot he just pulled out of, slamming the car right back into park causing your body to jerk forward slightly.
“Do not apologize to me, are you serious?” You turn to him, and he sends you a sad smile taking your hands in his. “I am so happy you called me! I want to be the person you call when you need something. Anything! I will come running anytime anywhere if you need me! Do you understand?”
The emotions that you hadn’t been able to find just moments ago find you now in full force. Tears steadily stream down your face, and all you can do is nod as Mitch pulls you awkwardly into his chest. The centre console digs into your ribs, but the pain doesn’t compare to the ache in your heart. Besides, in the comfort of your best friend’s arms, you’ve never felt more safe.
I see it's just a matter of fact, girl. You just call my name, I'll be coming through, coming through, I'll keep coming.
Living with Mitch was the easiest, yet hardest, thing you’ve ever done. Your plan was to move back home to your parents place, but Mitch pouted and complained about not being able to see you. So after hours of lighthearted arguments, you decided to stay. You fit well with Mitch, but there is one thing that is starting to become an issue. His teammates.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” Will chirps the moment Mitch and a few of his teammates arrive to pregame before going out for drinks. Somehow Mitch’s place always gets offered up as a place to host these get togethers. Sure, you love all the guys, and they are your friends too, but the whole ‘girlfriend’ chirp was getting old fast.
“Still not his girlfriend!” You call out, peaking around the corner to let the boys know you’re in the kitchen. You got a head start on the drinking, and are currently pouring yourself a hefty glass of wine.
“Great, so you’re free to go on a date with me then.” Will winks at you as he leans against the counter beside you.
“Absolutely not!” Mitch pipes in before you even can formulate a response. Everyone’s head snaps towards Mitch, and his cheeks seem to turn a shade darker. “I’m not letting her date any of you, she could do a million times better! No offence Willy.”
“Oh none taken.” Will manages to get out while stifling a laugh.
———
The bar was packed, you knew it would be. You had insisted you would just stay home, because it was the boys night to celebrate their win, but Mitch wasn’t having it. So here you were trying to find your way to the bar for another drink. Bodies all around you, bumping into you, spilling drinks, and it felt hard to breath.
As your hands start to shake, you abandon the idea of another drink and instead turn to head back towards the group. Your breath hitches in your throat as you turn to see a sea of people. You try and push your way through, but with every step you begin to feel smaller. Your entire body begins to shake, every small brush of a limb against you has your head spinning. Panic sets into your bones, as your heart begins to race. Your eyes frantically scan the crowd looking for Mitch, as you begin wringing your hands together anxiously.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. Where is Mitch?” You begin muttering to yourself. Obsessively repeating his name to yourself as if you’d forget who it was you were looking for if you stop. Of course you had to ask him to hold onto your cellphone for you!
Tears sting your eyes, and the anxiety wracking your body manifests itself into fear now. It feels as though everyone is staring at you like you’re crazy, and you don’t feel safe here. Unable to find your bearings in a room that seems to be spinning around you, you do the only thing you know how to. You call out for Mitch.
His name falls from your lips, and you know how pathetic it sounds, but you don’t care. You’re just praying that he hears you, so you call out for him again. “Mitch! Where are you?!” People are definitely staring now, but you feel like you’re moments away from passing out.
A hand grips your shoulder causing you to jump back. As you whip your head around to see who grabbed you, your eyes are met by a very concerned Mitch. You fall against his chest, and he holds you close as you try to not fall apart.
You barely register the fact that Mitch is leading you through the crowd, aside from the fact your feet are moving. You still have your face pressed into his chest as the two of you step out of the bar.
“Hey what’s wrong?” His voice is soft as he runs a hand through your hair softly. You can’t respond with words. Instead you squeeze your fists tighter in his shirt, as your body begins to tremble against him. The tears, mixed with your makeup, will surely stain his shirt, but you can’t stop. “Woah! Shh don’t cry, it’s okay I’m here.” Mitch rubs your back in slow circles as you desperately cling to him. You stay like that for awhile, but soon enough you come to your senses and feel like a total idiot. You pull away from Mitch abruptly, and turn away from him aggressively wiping at your face. “God I’m sorry Mitch! I’m such a baby!” You groan. You’re angry at yourself, and super embarrassed. So much so, that if it weren’t for the fact your phone was still in Mitch’s pocket, you would have just ran away.
“Y/n?” His voice sounds so unsure, yet so soft. You can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet, but you do turn back towards him. “I shouldn’t have let you go to the bar alone, I’m sorry. Did someone hurt you? Because I swear to god I will go in there and fight for you no questions asked.” He adds a little chuckle at the end, but his tone gives away the fact he’s telling the truth. You have no doubts Mitch would fight for you, it’s why you love him.
Holy shit. You love Mitch!
“N-no one hurt me Mitch I just, I don’t know. I got overwhelmed, and scared. I didn’t have my phone, and I couldn’t find you a-and I just shut down. God I’m so stupid! I’m an adult and I can’t even get a drink for myself.” You stare at your feet, willing the tears away that once again threaten to fall down your cheeks. In a moment, Mitch has your face in his hands tilting your head up, forcing you to look in his eyes.
“Stop that.” His eyes are looking into yours like he’s trying to read your mind. “You are so far from stupid! I’m sorry I didn’t find you faster, I’m sorry I let you go alone. You’re okay now though alright? Let’s go home yeah?” You nod, but neither of you dare to move. His face is only inches from yours, and you use this moment to just take him in. He’s absolutely beautiful. His hair falling over his forehead, his perfect skin, his blue eyes, his lips. He’s perfect. You realize you’ve been staring at his lips a beat too long when he licks his lip. The action pulls you from your daze, and you let your eyes wander back up to his, which are focused on your own lips. Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes meet yours again.
“We should go.” You awkwardly clear your throat, completely ruining whatever that was. Mitch slowly drops his hands back to his sides, shaking his head lightly.
“Yeah let’s go.”
On the other side of the world, it don't matter, I'll be there in two, I'll be there in two, I'll be there in two
Loss is something that everyone will experience at least once in their life. You have had your fair share, but none to date hurt quite like this one. Losing someone so close to your heart, and being completely alone. Your family all in a completely different province, your best friend is in a completely different country playing hockey, and you are laying completely still. Unable to move from the spot you collapsed into after the conversation with your mom.
Death wasn’t new to you, but being alone certainly was. So all you could do was cry.
You only lift your head from the pillow when your phone rings. A picture of you and Mitch flashes on the screen, letting you know he wants to FaceTime.
“Hey Mitch, how was the game?” You ask after accepting the call, but keeping your camera off.
“The game was good... did you not watch it?” He asks, rightfully confused, because you had told him you’d watch it.
“Oh well uh- something came up I’m sorry.” Your excuse is poor, but not entirely untrue. Mitch might have even let you away with it, if it weren’t for the small sniffle you let out at the end.
“Y/n are you crying?” You see the concern written on his face, as a fresh batch of tears start falling. “Please turn the camera on.”
You listen to him, no energy left in you to argue. As you see your face pop up on the screen you immediately regret it. You look awful, and Mitch’s eyes soften when he sees you. “I’m fine Mitch I just- Mom called me, and I’m just having a rough night. It just sucks being alone.”
“Is everything okay?” He questions, but you can tell he’s trying not to be pushy. All you can do is shake your head, more tears falling down your face. Mitch feels his heart break in two as he watches you fall apart on his phone screen. “I’m coming home.”
“I know you’ll be home tomorrow night, I’ll be okay. I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” You aren’t sure how you manage to string coherent sentences together, but you do. You feel silly telling Mitch you don’t like being alone, it’s not his fault he has to travel so much for work.
“No I’m coming home now. I’ll be there in 4 hours okay? Just hang in there for me alright?” You look at the screen and realize Mitch is frantically throwing things into his suitcase. After he manages to stuff everything into the suitcase he zips it up and looks back at his screen. You still haven’t responded, so he speaks again. “4 hours, and I’ll be there. I promise.”
And he kept his promise. 3 hours and 56 minutes later he crawls into your bed and holds you until you fell asleep.
I still feel it every time, it's just something that you do. Now ask me why I want to.
“Wow he’s really smitten with you isn’t he?” Audrey, Justin Holl’s wife gushes. You had just filled her and the other WAGs in on why Mitch had flown home for you just over a month ago.
“He’s a really great friend.” You smile shyly, eyes searching for the topic of conversation himself. When you find him, he’s smiling at you, him and Justin leaning against a wall both sipping beers. You send him a small wave, and he winks back at you.
“Oh come on! A ‘really good friend’ doesn’t pack up a work trip on a moments notice and fly home to you like that. This boy is totally gone for you! Honestly I assumed you two would have gotten together by now.” Audrey gestures between the two of you dramatically, and your cheeks heat up.
“He doesn’t like me like that.” You insist. If they could feel how fast your heart is racing though, they’d know just how badly you wanted what they were saying to be true.
———
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Mitch asks as he closes the apartment door behind him. You have just gotten back from Justin and Audrey’s and you’ve hardly spoken a word to him.
“Just thinking.” You mutter, hanging up your jacket and throwing your keys on the desk.
“Care to share with the class?” He chirps, smiling widely as he hangs his coat on the hook next to yours. The moment is so incredibly domestic, and your stomach is doing somersaults at the thought of it.
“Just something Audrey said.” You pause for a moment unsure if you really want to tell Mitch what’s really going through your head. “Can I ask you something?” You flop down onto the couch, watching him over the back of the couch as he grabs you both a beer from the fridge.
“Shoot!” He grins, handing you a beer and taking a seat right next to you. He pops open his beer, and leans back against the couch throwing an arm around your shoulders. He looks at you expectantly as he takes a sip of his drink.
“Why are you so nice to me?” His brows knit together in confusion, so you choose to elaborate. “Like I get that we are friends, best friends even, but you go out of your way to always be there for me. Stepping out on work to fly home to me because I’m sad, isn’t really something a best friend does. So why are you so nice? I don’t need you to take pity on me if that’s what this is. I don’t want to be a charity case.”
Mitch sits forward on the couch now. His arm no longer around you, instead both elbows are planted on his knees. He’s picking at the label on his beer like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. This isn’t a side of him you see often. Mitch Marner is nervous.
“It’s not like that at all! You aren’t a charity case!” He still hasn’t looked at you, and the distance he’s putting between you has you panicking.
“So tell me what it’s like. Come on Mitch, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” You tease, bumping his shoulder playfully with your own. Your attempt to lighten the mood even just a little works momentarily, as a small smile breaks out on Mitch’s face.
“You really want to know why I do all of that stuff for you?” His eyes search yours now, hoping he finds the answer he’s looking for. He’s hoping that you are ready to hear what he has to say, and when you place your hand on his arm with a smile he knows it’s going to be okay. “It’s because I love you.”
It's everything about you, everything that you do. From the way that we touch, baby, to the way that you kiss on me. It's everything about you, the way you make it feel, new. Like every party is just us two, and there's nothin' I could point to. It's everything about you.
“Mitch-“ your voice is a warning. Or maybe it’s a plea. Even you aren’t sure, because your heart is in your throat right now.
“I’m serious. I love you. I think I always have, I mean what isn’t there to love? You always make me feel important, like no one else matters and I’ve been trying so hard to make you feel the same way. To make you feel like you’re worth it, because you are so worth it. I love everything about you. I love how funny, sweet, strong, and caring you are. I love how you are just so you. There is not one single thing that made me love you, it was everything. I’m sorry if this is weird for you, but I’m just being honest.” His whole body seems to relax a bit after he finishes speaking. It is almost as if you can see the weight lifting from his shoulders. A weight you hadn’t realized he carried with him, and you want so badly to apologize to him. Tell him you’re sorry for not realizing sooner, and that you wish he hadn’t carried that weight for you. You want to tell him you’re not perfect, and that he has you all wrong. Mostly though, you just want to tell him you love him too.
The only way you know how to tell Mitch exactly how you feel about him isn’t by telling him all of those things with simple words, you have to show him. So, taking a deep breath, you lift your hand from Mitch’s arm, and place gently on the back of his neck. You gently dance your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and you feel a shiver pass through him. He slowly lifts his eyes to yours again, and without another second of hesitation you’re pulling him into you.
When his lips reach yours, you kiss him with all you have. You pour yourself into him in hopes of showing him how grateful you are for him, and how much you love him. He smiles against your lips, as he pulls you into his lap. He hugs your body to his own, and you grip his hair like you’re scared to let go.
After kissing for what feels like forever, but also not nearly long enough, you pull away to catch your breath. Your foreheads are pressed together, both of you breathing heavily, and both sporting mile wide grin.
“Wow.” Mitch breathes out, causing you to giggle. “Add that to the list.”
“List?” You ask curiously, sitting back in his lap to get a better look at him. His hair is messy, lips swollen and red, and his eyes have never looked more blue.
“The list of things I love about you. The way you kiss me, I can add that to the list of everything.” The happiness you feel in this moment has you feeling warm. Sure, maybe the way you found Mitch wasn’t conventional, but there was a reason you called him all those months ago. However it happened, you’ve never been more happy to call someone yours.
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