#the pause where i seem to go over to the dialogue box

[agendabymooner]

pag-ibig, traducido (love, translated) || cs55 fic

carlos sainz x ofc (filipino!content creator!ofc)

EXTENSION TO RIDE HOME

Summary: Magdalena ‘Magda’ and Carlos Sainz can bring the two worlds together through words and actions. OR, moments in which the Filipino woman and her Spanish husband learned to love each other while learning more about what they know about themselves. 

Content warning: Use of explicit language, shitty Tagalog/Filipino and Spanish translations, a lot of Spanish colonial and Filipino history jokes, parental abandonment, brief reference to religious and cultural practice (weddings), mentions elopement, secret marriage, briefly mentions PR relationships/girlfriends, time skipping, what is beta reading lol

Note: The last part of this story is loosely based on the idea given to me by @clairalle and the song 'Paninindigan Kita' by Ben&Ben so thank you so much! ❤️

Letting you all know that some Filipino dialogue here are translated based on how I know it in both English and Tagalog language??? And also, there are some words in here that are the same in context BUT written in two different spellings - some of the words are spelled based on phonics or how it sounds. Enjoy xx

masterlist

i. 2016 — shit, ayos ka lang?

Ramona Magdalena normally had the patience for Tesco. She wasn’t sure what it was, but everything had her seething with no apparent reason. She tried to figure out what went wrong. 

It was only 3 p.m., for goodness sake! 

Her third year at the university was supposed to make things easier, but the way she clenched at the handle of her shopping cart as she sped through the aisles of Tesco showed nothing of the sort. 

She was so tense, her jaw clenching as she asked herself repeatedly if there was an actual reason for her getting worked up over something. 

Her mother, Alma, was being herself; she was merely calling to see how the university was for Magda. Alma only told Magda about her cousins in the Philippines and how they were looking forward to getting the “balikbayan” box in August, only for the younger woman to respond grumpily. Alma was a dear— so clearly Magda’s grumpiness had nothing to do with her mother’s daily check-in. 

She appreciated her mother’s efforts to keep up with Magda’s well-being; after all, Alma did everything she could as a single parent who immigrated to the UK long before she took Magda. 

So no. She loved her mother so much that she wouldn’t get unreasonably cranky towards her. Not easily, at least. 

But her questions withered away when her speed walking was interrupted by her shopping cart crashing into a figure. Her eyes widened, and she shook herself out of her thoughts. 

“Mierda!” Shit! An accent escaped out of the man’s mouth. 

Now, Magda had been a citizen of the UK for a while now— she knew when to speak English and how to utilize her vocabulary in a reasonable manner. But everything seemed to be in panic mode as she exclaimed, “Shit! Ayos ka lang?” Are you okay?

The man was still groaning, bent over as he clutched to his stomach. He glared at her for a moment as he asked, “¿Por qué no observas a dónde vas?” Why can’t you watch where you are going?

“Hah?” She cocked her head slightly. She only picked up on the first two words. Por qué? Why? 

He’s Spanish, Magda deduced. She stepped away from the cart and walked towards him, “I’m so, so, so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—“

“Obviously—“ he muttered hastily, still touching his aching side. 

“I’m also in a rush, and I’m so frustrated and tired. Three years into adulthood and I can’t make shit right,” Magda hadn’t even realized that she was ranting to a stranger as she rambled, “GCSE clearly didn’t do shit to me because I’m still here bitching about what to cook— punyeta naman kasi, ‘di ba.” What the fuck, am I right?

He stared at her for a moment, not even interrupting her as she spoke. But the silence made Magda pause as her face flushed red, earning a soft smirk from the man. “Mama said I have a problem with speaking too much without thinking.” 

He chuckled at her rambling before sticking his hand out, “We can call it… truce— I think is the word?” 

“Yeah, okay, truce,” she reached out and introduced herself while shaking his hand, “I’m Magdalena.” 

“I’m Carlos.” 

“So, like… you’re Spanish, right? Or do you just speak Español? I’ve only picked up on some words because they’re quite similar— or I suppose I learned it through some song from years ago.” 

“I am actually Spanish; good guess. And you said puñeta— I can assume you also speak Español?” 

“Oh, hah, about that— no. That’s not spoken in Spanish. That’s— yeah, that’s something.” 

ii. 2017 — irog means love

“Ate Magda! Totoo ba?” Is it true?

“Jowa mo galing Spain?” Your boyfriend is from Spain? 

Magda almost died laughing as she FaceTimed her cousins, who were certainly supposed to be asleep at this time. The Philippines was seven hours ahead, and with her cousins being awake at two in the morning, she could assume that they had a holiday. Everybody always sleeps in if it’s a long weekend or a national holiday. 

But she hadn’t expected their night to be spent gossiping about Magdalena’s boyfriend, Carlos. 

“Niño, bakit ‘di mo gamitin yang utak mo sa school kaysa sa jowa ko?” Why don’t you use your brain for school instead of my boyfriend? Magda huffed out her laugh, making her other cousin Paloma laugh next to Niño. Paloma’s laughter caught Magda off guard as she called out, “Oi, Lomi, don’t be laughing— ikaw ang nagpasimuno nito. Akala mo ‘di ko alam?” You started this. You think I didn’t know?

“Papa brought it up,” Paloma defended herself with a cry, “he kept calling you a national hero, and I had to ask why.” 

“Ano ba naman ‘yan,” what the hell. Magdalena cried out as her head slumped against the couch, raising it to look at her cousins on the screen, “Tell your papa to keep his mouth shut. I love Tito Gerry— I do, but he needs to stop making jokes about that.” 

“—About what?” Magda seemed to be more drawn towards her uncle’s joke that she hadn’t heard her boyfriend enter her flat with a curious look. He had just arrived from Milton Keynes, and this was a surprise as he normally arrived later than this. 

Carlos had taken off his shoes and placed his bag down, walking around the couch to sit next to Magda as he pecked her lips. “Hello, cariño. How was your day?” 

“Hm, good! I’ve finished my paper,” Magda grinned. 

They were so caught up with each other that the only thing they heard was gagging from the phone that the Filipino woman held. Magda and Carlos peered down on the screen as they watched the two teens exaggerate at the sight of the couple being too sweet for each other. 

“Reparations,” Paloma gagged jokingly, “but at what cost?” 

“Matulog na nga kayo!” Go to sleep! Magda exclaimed.

“Okay po, master,” Niño rolled his eyes before waving at the camera, “nice meeting you, Carlitos!” 

"You're Niño, right?" Carlos grinned as he kept his face in front of the camera before waving, "Nice meeting you too!"

“Yeah! Buenas noches, Don Carlos!” Good night, sir Carlos! Paloma giggled, the other side of the call abruptly ending before Magda could berate the pair even further.

She sighed heavily and tossed her phone aside, giving her boyfriend a look of despair as he giggled at her. 

“What did they mean by reparations?” He asked her, genuinely curious at what they were joking about. 

How was she going to explain it to him? Did they even teach at Spanish schools about their country’s history of colonialism? Magda didn’t have an answer to that. 

“Oh, just you know…” She mumbled, “Filipinos were originally Spanish people living in the Philippines. Apparently, dating you made us a deadly combination. Enemies to lovers, or whatever trope that is.”

“Reparations? Oh… OH!” Carlos exclaimed in realization, earning a nod from his girlfriend as he murmured, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, I understand now, mi corazon.” 

“Irog,” Carlos said aloud, making Magda hum in a questioning tone. “Irog, bébé.”

“What’s that, bé?” Magda asked mindlessly as she stared at the screen of her computer. 

Carlos turned his head in her direction as he said, “I don’t know. You’re the one who speaks the language.” 

She paused from doing her work, looking up at him before she pondered the first word he brought up. Then she let out an ‘ah’ before nodding. 

“So…? What does that mean?” Carlos asked. One year of relationship and his thirst for knowledge was an obvious factor that came with it.

“It means mahal,” Magda answered, remembering the word. She continued to read Filipino literature as she grew, not wanting to stay away from it regardless of the fact that she spent her last school years in a British school. She asked her mother questions whenever she didn’t have a single clue what a word meant, so this was a helpful thing to do, especially now that Carlos continued to ask her to teach him how to speak her language. 

“Mahal, like expensive?” Carlos asked for clarification. 

Magda shook her head, “No, not that mahal. Like mahal— you, mahal.” 

“Oh,” Carlos let out before he reiterated what she said, “mahal, like love?” 

“Yes, mahal,” she snickered quietly, calling him by the term of endearment. “Like love.” 

“So irog means love?” 

“Yes, bébé. Irog means love.”

iii. 2018 — patata, patatas. what’s the difference? 

“Oh! Hey, Mr. Alonso, you’re here just in time,” Magdalena grinned. The older man, who just arrived, shot her a confused look as she stood there with her lips spread out to a grin.

“Magda, hija, call me Fernando. It’s also nine in the morning,” Fernando Alonso sighed quietly, his hand running through his face as he looked back at the girl in the white McLaren shirt. “I think it’s too early for your optimism.” 

“You’re right,” Magda’s shoulders slumped, and her smile fell, her face showing nothing but defeat as she walked towards the Spaniard, “but don’t let my sadness get in the way of your duties today. My supervisor said that you have to do your filming for the next two videos of the channel— and you cannot, I mean CANNOT, back out this time.” 

“I can’t,” Fernando smirked playfully, “or can I?” 

“Mr. Alonso, with all due respect,” Magda sighed heavily, “I started this year. And if you continue to ditch your duties because I cannot convince you enough then I’m going to have to leave not of my own will. I did not last four years at the university just so I can have a manchild act so sassily at the person who’s merely trying her best, so please—“

“Calmaté, Magdalena. Are you okay?” Calm down. Fernando asked, reiterating his question and emphasizing the word you. 

Magda had anything but an answer; her lips pursed as she shook her head. “Can I… shit. Sorry, can I be excused for a moment? It's been a morning for me.” 

“Take all the time you need, querida,” Fernando told her with a smile, patting her on the shoulder as she gave him a grateful look before she walked out of the McLaren garage with a heave of sigh. 

Fernando Alonso pursed his lips as he caught sight of the young British reserved driver, calling him with a whistle as Lando Norris looked in his direction with a questioning expression.

“Norris, you know Carlos Sainz, yes?” Fernando asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Lando replied with a nod. “He’s a friend of mine.”

“Do me a favour, if you don’t mind,” Fernando requested, “will you please tell him Magdalena’s on break?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Lando obliged before his curiosity got the best of him as he asked, “Is she alright?” 

“I think McLaren broke her.”

“Leche,” she swore quietly as she stood behind the McLaren motorhome. Thankfully, nobody else was there to witness her on the verge of breaking down. Otherwise, that would have been embarrassing. 

She had a bad habit of pleasing people. Living in the Philippines, with her mother working overseas and her biological father being a dickhead fuck knew where Magdalena grew up wanting to appease her friends and family. Her immediate family cared very little about the achievements she reached — they were proud, sure, but how she got there was beyond what they wanted for her.

Some kids who grew up in a Filipino household aimed to please, and Magda wasn’t an exception to that. She, however, did more than what she should have been doing. All thanks to the father she had never interacted with before or ever.

Much like now. She aimed to please. Maybe that was why she got to this predicament now; crouching with her head down as she tried to keep her composure. 

She knew that everyone would kill to be in her place— working for a racing team. But for some reason, her urge to please was replaced by her fear of discomfort and disappointment. Being in a relationship with a Formula One driver taught her a lot about the sport, and she landed herself a job in a team based in England.

Being able to travel with him was a plus, but she felt that she had disappointed him. She didn’t feel as good as he told her she would when she first announced McLaren’s offer to hire her for the season. 

Was this what most Formula One wives and partners felt? Or have they embraced that lifestyle long before the drivers became so popular? She wouldn’t make a good girlfriend for everyone should they find out that she had nothing but anxiety in her system as she graced the grid with her presence. 

She was a disappointment of a Carlos Sainz fan.

His cologne lingered in the air as she witnessed him crouch down in her level, his fingers pulling her hair tie off her head, letting her long dark brown hair fall as she smiled grimly. 

He was in his Renault fireproof, his race suit hanging off his waist. He made things more angelic than normal, and she loved him so much for it. His lips pursed as his fingers continued to massage her scalp. 

“Few more months, mi vida,” Carlos murmured, his soothing voice making her feel at home. “You’re doing so good for them. Don’t let them say otherwise.” 

Sure, she could be at the hotel with Ben&Ben blasting on her phone and her figure crying in the bathtub. She could be falling into the deepest depth of her sadness, but with Carlos ditching his team before the free practice — she would rather be here than be in their shared hotel room. 

“Now c’mon, mi corazon,” he pulled her up, “I’ve managed to get my manager to come drop off some pancit to the motorhome from the hospitality.”

“Pancit?” 

“Malabon,” Carlos beamed at her, pressing his lips to her forehead. “One of the caterers gladly took my request to have some pancit malabon at the menu. It took them a couple of weeks until they finally got tired of my constant asking.”

“Hm, you’re the best, my love,” Magda told him lovingly. “Though, I prefer palabok, remember?” 

“Eh,” Carlos paused, “patata, patatas. What’s the difference? Pancit is pancit, mi amor.”

iv. 2019 — magda, maldita 

“Carlos, bebe, mahal kita. Mahal kita sobra.” I love you. I love you so much. Magda sighed as she glanced over the notepad that her fiancé left on the end table of the side of her bed— their brainstorming notepad. “But do you really want to get married in a church? In the Philippines while you’re at it?” 

“It’s an idea, mi amor,” Carlos said while he continued to do whatever he was doing in the bathroom, making her listen from the bed as he spoke, “Just how bad is it?” 

“It’s nothing bad,” Magda said quietly, “it’s just something that I wouldn’t personally do. There is a lot of paperwork to do when getting married in a church. Did you know that? Not only that, but we’d have to attend seminars about family planning— which is not right up my alley, seeing as my mother is an unmarried single mother.” 

“Paperwork is what you are worried about?” 

“Why can’t we just elope instead? My Lola grandmother and Lolo grandfather did that, and look— they have my mom, my tito uncle and tita aunt,” she suggested out of the blue. 

“And risk getting killed by either of our mothers?” Carlos scoffed, “I think we should stick to the church idea, yes, mi amor?” 

“Did you not hear the story of my grandparents, love?” Magda asked him, thankful that he couldn’t see the baffled look on her face. 

“More than I can count, mi corazon,” Carlos answered, “they ran away from home, didn’t they? Got married and had your Tia Maria, then your Mama after? They eloped because they weren’t close with their families— but we’re both very close to ours. We can’t do what your grandparents did.” 

She sighed. He wasn’t even wrong. 

The Spaniard walked out of the bathroom, his face now clean-shaven as he sat next to his fiancée. “Look, we don’t have to do the church thing. It was just an idea, hm? I know you don’t want to get married in the Philippines either, so that’s alright. We’ll just send your cousins, your aunt and uncle to wherever we’re going, then we’ll get married. Don’t worry too much.” 

“‘M sorry,” Magda murmured, her fingers fidgeting with the gold engagement ring as she continued, “I’m a killjoy.” 

“No, you’re not,” Carlos huffed out and clasped his hand with her left hand, “you’re the bride. The bride is more than permitted to weigh out the options. If you don’t want the Philippines, that’s okay.

“Truthfully, I just want to marry you,” Carlos murmured as he pulled her closer, “if we didn’t have such scary mothers, I would’ve already married you. You and your YouTube channel.” 

Magda’s chuckle vibrated in his chest as she perched on his lap, “I don’t even know if that will even work out.” 

“I am sure the wedding plans will. If it doesn’t, our marriage certainly will work out for you and your channel.”

“You are a dickhead, mahal.” “I can’t speak the truth now?” 

“There was no need to bring up the channel, dumbass.”

“Mabuti nalang may passport yung mga pinsan mo,” It’s a good thing that your cousins have passports. Alma San Pedro, Magdalena’s mother, brought up as she sat across the aforementioned woman.

Magda skimmed through the spreadsheet laid out on her laptop’s screen, keeping her eyes on the things Carlos typed out on the guest list as he actively listed who’s responsible for the catering.

Alma continued to speak, “Why didn’t you want to get married in the Philippines? You’ve always wanted to get married in the Tayabas basilica— I could have had your Tita Marie look into it.”

“That was mainly because I thought you got married there,” Magda glanced at her mother before leaving a comment on the name that Carlos had just typed down on the guest list sheet.

“Lando Norris” — Magda San Pedro (monamagsp) commented: “He finally RSVP’d?”

Carlos Sainz (carlossz) replied: “Yes. He said he forgot to do it, but I managed to get him to fill it.”

He was still at Monaco for the race, but between the busy days of partying and racing he decided to abandon his friends and stayed at the hotel to plan his wedding with Magda instead. “Besides, Ma, the wedding’s in two months. Travelling is also time-consuming for most of us.”

“You’re so picky, anak,” child. Alma replied with a playful scoff.

“And you’re not married, Mama,” Magda shot back with the same amount of humour in her tone. “People complain about both, but we can’t find ourselves to care, hm?”

“Hay nako, Ramona Magdalena,” Alma rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. A rhetorical question escaped her mouth, “Bakit ka kaya maldita?” Why are you so cheeky/sassy? 

Mona shrugged, “Tita Maria didn’t take any shit from my private school teachers, Ma. She’s the one who took care of me while you worked here, remember? Go figures.”

“I can’t believe you’ve invited me to the wedding,” Lando’s eyes glimmered under the warm light of the ballroom hall as he excitedly spoke to Magda. “I know we didn’t speak as much last year, but the fact that you allowed Carlos to invite me? I’m so grateful, mate.”

Magdalena San Pedro— or wait, Magdalena Sainz stood across from the British man with a grin as she tucked her hands into her pockets (she had pockets on her wedding dress that she began to think that God was treating her right today).

The San Pedro-Sainz wedding ceremony took place in the Westin Palace of Madrid. With the hopes of celebrating the love that they shared for years, Carlos and Magdalena managed to get through the hour-long ceremony without a fuss. The romantic venue created an environment full of celebration while keeping it as intimate and private as it could be for their guests and themselves.

Carlos had already made his name known to the Formula One world, his talent being recognized by every fan as the season went on. But nobody knew who Magdalena was to him, and he intended to keep it that way — thus prompting him to keep his marriage a piece of confidential information. Everyone behind the scenes knew he was in a relationship, and with the hopes that he’d get even more popular, PR relationships were introduced and tossed in his way. 

None of the women he was put in the spotlight with ever lasted, and he was slowly earning the title of a Casanova. He didn’t care; he was just doing his duty and driving his car around the tracks while he worried about his partner, who now worked for a designing company based in London— where they both lived. Nobody else in the grid nor anyone in the motorsport community knew who he was romantically involved with. 

Magdalena was another story. She only began to record some videos about her lifestyle as she continued to work for some local designing firm, telling whoever was watching her videos about what she knew about this field of work or what kind of food she’d eat on certain occasions.

She wasn’t as popular as him, but she continued to keep his identity a secret. She lived an average life and she was quite content with it. She’d rather post a video of herself fucking around, but they’ve made a choice to stay private for as long as they could. 

Now Lando Norris was known to be a blabbermouth, but Magdalena had grown quite fond of him when he was still a reserved driver for McLaren as she worked as a PR coordinator for the team. They rarely spoke, sure, but she was certain that she could trust him with anything and he wouldn’t blab about it. Carlos was also friends with Lando, and they continued to be close friends, so Magda never protested against Carlos’ idea of inviting the younger man to the wedding. 

Lando then said, “I find it quite enjoyable— your wedding, I mean. It’s clearly not as big as I would have expected because well… Carlos told me that Filipino weddings are often big, but I love it! I’ve learned more about your wedding traditions than I have in sixth form about geography.”

“Gah, don’t even say that,” Magda rolled her eyes, earning a giggle from Lando as the woman continued, “It’s barely there, I think. We tried not to pour our hearts out into what they would normally practice in the Philippines or here in Spain. Some Filipino things are here — the food, my dress and my family — but it’s just something superficial, you know?” 

“It’s not even just the wedding that taught me a lot!” Lando exclaimed as he laughed, “Your cousins, Lomi, Niño and Lucia? Yeah, I sat with them during the whole ceremony so they kept telling me about wedding traditions and some superstitions: like how you shouldn’t have any relative marry at the same time as you because it’s cursed.” 

“Really? I’m surprised they haven’t said anything mundane,” Magda saw Lando nod at her statement.

“They also started to say that you took one for the team—“ Lando’s forehead creased as he said, “I asked them what they meant by that, then they only said you’re heroic.” 

“Diyos ko.” My god. Magda scoffed. Her cousins spelled nothing but trouble and god did she despise them at times. 

“What? What did that mean, Mags?” Lando asked.

Magda sighed exasperatedly, and with a defeated tone, she answered, “Making up for the challenge we’ve lost, apparently.” 

“Huh?” 

“It’s— just ask Carlitos,” Magda waved off, “I’ve had to explain the concept of colonialism to too many people before. I think it’s time Carlos did it for me.”

v. 2024 — paninindigan kita (stand by you)

Mamahalin kita buong-buo. I will love you completely.

“So, tell us about yourself.”

“I’m Carlos Sainz— or wait, do you want me to speak Tagalog?” The Ferrari driver asked as he stood in front of the camera, his linen shirt in the view of the lens as he waited to be instructed.

“Directing this music video is the dumbest idea I could’ve ever made,” Magda deadpanned from behind the camera as the videography crew laughed alongside the band members, her voice being picked up by the microphone easily.

Their Philippines trip, which they should’ve made a while ago, was something of an experience for the couple.

It was the first time they’d been seen in public— with everyone finding out about their marriage after Carlos’ Instagram story slip-up when he accidentally posted a photo of Magdalena’s selfie that she sent when she travelled to the country long before this. 

It really was an accident if you were to ask him. But it was something inevitable, and all Magda could do was laugh and make her presence known not only to her fans but to those who were more than interested to know about her. His fans. 

Now, they were in an Airbnb somewhere in the Quezon Province as they filmed some form of documentary. It was meant to be a storytelling music video about their relationship and the romance that came with it, but after seeing Carlos’ script reading at the Shell commercial, Magda practically banned him from acting.

She was a popular content creator in the Philippines regardless of her living situation; she lived in Madrid with her husband for almost five years. And with her popularity in the Philippines came acquaintances who were more than willing to collaborate with her. The folk-pop band called Ben&Ben asked if she was more than willing to shoot a music video with them. Direct it, even. 

The song they released practically spoke about her life with Carlos. At first, she didn’t think too much of the lyrics and just enjoyed the rhythm of the song, then she realized how similar it was to their relationship, from the courtship (and her outward refusal to continue this romance with him at the very beginning) to their vows to love each other as they grow old, and decided that perhaps it was time to show to the world how they truly love each other. 

Carlos agreed, knowing that outside of his life as a Ferrari driver and a Formula One figure, he had nothing else in life but her and her alone. He knew that she was the one thing that he kept from everyone to provide security for his wife. He waited patiently for her — and it was now paying off. Now, he was standing in front of a camera, waiting to be filmed for his interview. 

It was better than the countless documentaries and the Netflix series that he had to do interviews and filming duties for. Because this time, he got to discuss his wife, Magdalena Sainz, instead of his car. 

“Can I speak Tagalog?” Carlos repeated, his typical confused expression being displayed before the others.

Magda shook her head, “You’ll butcher it, Carlitos.”

“Excuse me, Ramona,” Carlos gasped in mock offence. “I can speak it!” 

“Clearly not good enough,” Magda shot back, making the others laugh at the banter between the pair. 

“Your Español isn’t any better then, mi vida,” Carlos scoffed, placing his hand on his chest. 

Magda said, “There’s a reason why I only listen to you and your family when you speak, honey.” 

“This is what I have to deal with every day, by the way,” Carlos pointed out to their audience, making the others burst out laughing as he offered his wife a playful glare. 

One of the videographers spoke before Magda could make a comeback, “Wait, the camera’s still on.”

“Oh shit,” Carlos and Magda both swore before they both laughed. Their banter was caught on camera and they were laughing about it.

It took them good ten seconds to return to their composure as the camera stopped recording. 

Magda cleared her throat, clapping her hands as the camera began recording, and she instructed her husband, “Carlos, we can both speak English— it’s fine. Just speak in English, alright?” 

“Okay, fine,” Carlos rolled his eyes and muttered, “mi esposa. Muy quisquilloso.” My wife. So picky. The microphone attached to his shirt picked up on his comment.

“This is so going to the music video,” one of the band members giggled. 

Magda then continued with the recording segment as she spoke to her husband while she stood behind the camera, “Alright, please state your name and how long you have been with your partner?” 

Carlos nodded and beamed slightly as he stared back at Magda, who was smiling as she expected his answer. With a cheerful tone, he said, “My name is Carlos Sainz. I have been with my wife, Magdalena San Pedro Sainz, for seven years and three months and have been married to her for four years and six months.” 

“What prompted you to stand by her?” Magda asked as she continued to beam at him, not even noticing the heart eyes of the other people in the room. 

Eight years and still extremely in love. 

He answered, “Her determination, wits and her ability to stand by me no matter what kind of disaster came and went made me realize that falling in love with her was worth the effort to make.”

It was no wonder people thought their relationship had nothing to do with two worlds colliding.

Even with their constant light bickering, Magdalena and Carlos Sainz learned how to love each other through words — whether it was their native languages or their secondary ones. What mattered was that they understood the meaning of their love, regardless of what kind of language they had to translate it to.

fin.

[nerves-nebula]

Hey hi i have a question

How do you script a comic. Like deadass idk how. I have like 30 short comics i want to make but have no idea where to start. Is it like- blocking first? Dialogue?? How

Poorly.

But no the best advice I’ve seen for this is to write it however makes sense to you. I don’t know how you’d break it into blocking and dialog when those two things happen simultaneously tho. For me, I write the story and then go through braking it up into pages (usually it’s a few things need to happen per page) which you then thumbnail yadda yadda etc.

I write the loose stitches comic script as a weird amalgamation of sparse, functional prose and notes to myself.

Its mostly dialog but I include relevant thoughts and descriptions and ideas i have for how the panels should look and what people should be doing, so I don’t forget important things like if someone needs to pick something up for a later part of the scene.

However I’ll also ignore those things later if they don’t serve me. If the notes say to pause for a panel bit I think that’s too much work and there’s no significant reason to pause then I don’t do it

I’m gonna show you parts of the loose stitches script now

In the first one I’ve written out the things reg should be feeling, even if that’s not 100% clear to the viewer, because it’s important for me to remember why I wrote him acting like that. In the second example you’ll notice a discrepancy between where the voice box is originally stated to be (off to the side) and where it ends up (in Atchkies pocket)

This is cuz I didn’t wanna draw a whole side table just for the voice box. You might also notice that it says dotty is being restrained, that’s another hold over from a previous version of the script that I am now ignoring. My point here is that it really doesn’t matter if you have vestigial writing in there as long as you can tell what’s supposed to be happening.

Anyway all of my comics start as bullet points/lists of things I want to happen, and how those things might lead into each other, which then get filled in with my dialog prose/notes writing. Sometimes I just write it inside the bullet points if I don’t think it’s going to be a long comic. That’s how I wrote all of the leo memory comic (see below)

(Also here’s some stuff in here about the memories Donnie saw that didnt make it into the final cuz they seemed too on the nose. Like I figured you guys got the point you didn’t need it spelled out. Also it didn’t work with the page design, but it’s there if you want it)

Tho for some reason I stopped at the very end? Idk. Like I said the script is for your eyes only babyyyy it works for youuu

If you were asking how to WRITE tho I don’t know how to help you with that. I just do it… and I’m only kind of ok at it :P

God this took forever to write on my phone and now my hands hurt :,)

[phenomenalcosmicpowers]

CHZ: Heads-up for what's in store for March 12th

Hello everyone! This is just a mod post giving a proper heads up for what's coming next for Cosmic Heart Zone

As implied by the previous post, the TailsTube style QnA that has been the style from almost the very beginning of the blog, will have a temporary pause up until this story is finished. As soon as the story is over the plan is to immediately go back to that style of a blog as I still fully intend for that to be the main draw of the blog. The story I'm starting is meant to be a sort of special, and I'm not sure if I'll ever be doing another story like it afterward.

As hinted by Cream in the description the previous update, it's sort of a special day when it comes to Cosmo's history. While obviously not the exact same in-universe. From a meta perspective, March 12th is the 20th anniversary of Sonic X Season 3's air date in France. Thus it's the first time anywhere in the world where Sonic fans were introduced to Cosmo. Because of that, I chose that date to prepare this coming story to commemorate the occasion.

As for the story itself, I won't give away what the story will be about just yet. But what I will tell ahead of the start is that the story will be in a script style.

EX:

Character A: dialogue

(Sometimes narration in the middle of the line, but not always)

Character B: dialogue

While that seems to be an unusual or even frowned upon way of doing fanfiction. I have become somewhat comfortable with that style. And besides, the script style is actually kind of necessary for what I have planned that will become evident by the end of the first chapter that releases on Wednesday. Before Cosmic Heart Zone, I have done script style fics for my My Little Pony blog I Dream of Twilight Sparkle plenty of times, from short stories to really long stories. You can check these to know what to expect. I at least don't think this story will be as long as my biggest stories for my MLP stuff from before CHZ. But just in case some chapters to get that long, a heads up on that given what I've done previously.

I also want to be clear that I don't think of myself as a professional writer. I am writing this by myself, without (at least currently) an editor outside of spellcheck, and there's bound to be mistakes either through grammar and pacing. I'm not really confident that I can execute this story in a way that won't make some mistakes along the way. I feel like there may be moments I end up rushing the middle in order to get to scenes that I really want to write and I apologize for those who get bothered by rushed and/or mistake-filled fanfiction. I only wish that if you are bothered by how the story progresses to not criticize too heavily. There's already so many stressing things going on (Especially as an American these days…) I'd really like to not add someone being on my case about my execution of a fanfiction on a Sonic blog that's now something of an escape from the terribleness of reality right now.

There will also be some images along the way, mostly sprites with absolutely no background during some scenes.

As for how long the story will last? That I'm still unsure. It will probably at the very least last somewhere past April and end at the very earliest in May, but probably more likely June or even July. And the intention is to hopefully wrap up the story before Cosmic Heart Zone hits it's first anniversary in mid-August. The plan is going to try to put up at least one chapter a week. With maybe two in one week occasionally. But this is not at all set in stone. At the moment I typed this up only about the first 4 are just about fully typed up and I hope to gradually get to the currently unwritten chapters as each one follows suit. So that by April begins. At least most of Chapters 5-8 will be mostly done and so on and so forth.

I think that's all I have to say for now and if you have any further questions I do have an ask box for my mod blog you can either send asks or even reply to this post.

Actually speaking of asks, while the story is ongoing. The characters obviously aren't going to be able to directly answer your questions like they do during the TailsTube sections HOWEVER, that doesn't mean asks won't potentially be used if say a part of the story just happens to answer an ask along the way. There's also a possibility for comments on the story to appear similarly if they are at all relevant to something within the story. The right comment could even inspire me to add a scene I didn't consider all on my own. So there's at least a slight chance viewers can influence the story a bit. Even if I do generally have a clear path of how i want the story to go.

I hope the following story is enjoyed by most following Cosmic Heart Zone even if from a technical perspective it could end up not being too impressive or even executed to the potential. But hey the Sonic franchise is full of potential stories that have parts that could have been executed better. If we're being honest with ourselves even the best Sonic games don't always hit the mark with the stories. I have no intention of putting myself on a high horse and say my writing is any better then what Sega and/or any Sonic official media put out there.

Thank you for reading, and I'll see you for the beginning of the story on Wednesday!

[kittykitcat77]

Third Soul AU- The Start of Your Journey

This is from the perspective of the player AKA. you. I am adding dialogue boxes as an experiment to see what I like more when it comes to writing for this AU (text speech will be written below the image). All Player actions will be in regular type. This starts when Toriel takes you to her home and you spend the night.

[NEXT]

---- After you had awoken from resting the night in Toriel's home, you had the slice of Butterscotch Cinnamon Pie. You enjoyed it, even though it wasn't too warm anymore. You had walked out of your new room to talk to Toriel, who was excited to have you stay with her. You toured around her living room, curious on what was around. You pick up a history book, recounting the history of the founding of New Home. You could smell the dust lingering on the book, which wasn't too pleasant when mixed with the scent of cinnamon wafting in the air. You put the book back and walk over to a small table with 4 chairs. All of the chairs were too big for you to sit in. In the center of the table was an orange vase with some wilting flowers sagging down. Next to the plant was a stack of papers, all faced down. You grow curious. You pull a chair back and climb onto it. You then try and reach the papers from the chair, your hand grabbing out. Reaching, reaching. Then, the chair slides a bit, and you nearly fall. Toriel quickly stands up at the sound, her book falling with a soft thud on the floor.

(what are you doing, little one?)

She looked very concerned. You lean back, and her arms catch you. You then point to the papers on the table, her gaze following where you pointed. Her face relaxes upon the realization.

(Oh, those? I got those from a friend of mine. Nothing to worry your little self about.)

She sets you down sitting onto the chair. She then pats your head tenderly, like any mother would.

(please be careful next time, you scared me!)

She then walked back to her chair, picking her book and reading glasses off of the floor. You scoot the chair a little closer and finally manage to grab one of the papers. Before Toriel could look over, you crumple it and put it in your pocket. You then got off of the chair and walked back over to Toriel. You now wanted to leave, to go home. You let Toriel talk about the book she is reading, which is about snails. She seemed to really like snails. Finally, you ask to leave the ruins. She tells you to stay there while she does something, but you don't listen. You watch as she traverses down the stairs into the basement of the ruins, following close behind her. Then you both stopped as you saw her poised before what you could assume was the exit. She then mused quietly.

(You wish to know how to return home, do you not? ahead of us lies the ends of the ruins. a one way exit to the rest of the underground. I am going to destroy it.)

She then began to fight you in an attempt to get you to stay in the ruins. She was just trying to protect you, but your curiosity burned within you. You were determined to get home. Eventually, Toriel's emotions got the better of her. You avoided her attacks and decided to spare her, despite her self-degrading comments. She had been so kind and hospitable; it would be cruel. Toriel finally let you go, giving you a big hug and bidding you goodbye. You decide to go forth, with the door leading you into a tunnel. You walk down the tunnel, thinking it'd never end. Eventually, you found another spot in the open at the end of the tunnel. There, in the center, stood Flowey, the flower from before. You couldn't help but flinch back as you approached the small flower.

However, the flower began to laugh at you.

(Clever. Verrryyy clever. You think you're really smart, don't you?)

You pause in that moment, deciding to listen to Flowey, whatever he was trying to say.

(In this world, it's kill or be killed. so you were able to play by your own rules.) Flowey's face distorts again right before your eyes. His dark natured monologue unsettled you greatly, but you didn't want to know what happened if you ignored him, either. He keeps speaking, his voice more hushed.

(you saved the life of a single person.) Flowey laughed at your attempts at kindness, knowing the system of the underground. Then, they suggest the idea of a "relentless killer" crossing your path. He tells you that you'll die, and you'll keep dying until you stop trying. He then suggested that you either start killing or give up and let him take the power of the underground. His face distorted more into something humanlike with a maw of evil.

(I am the prince of this world's future. Don't worry, my little monarch, my plan isn't regicide. This is so much more interesting...) With that, he gave you one last big grin. He then giggled, a cackle of malice and evil. It scared you, really. You had made the choice to proceed, so what else could you do then? Flowey sunk into the ground, leaving you in the echoing silence of that area. You had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn't seem good whatever it was. You step through the last ruin pillars. On the other side, past the darkness, you found a forest. Bare trees lined either side of a snowy path, each of the trees being dusted with snow itself. You step onto the snow, crinkling the paper in your pocket. You are now in Snowdin Forest.

[blackjackkent]

Since Nocturne says she'll bail after one day, I guess we might as well exhaust all her dialogue now before moving on. Quick look around the room first - this seems to have been a dormitory for some of the adepts.

Nocturne's journal is next to one of the beds.

Aw. This is pretty upsetting to read about but does confirm a lot of what we'd already heard and/or suspected about Shadowheart's experiences here. The mission to get the prism was not the first time Shadowheart's memories had been erased; it happened repeatedly, and Nocturne was with her every time to help her recover. It's nice to hear that she had some sort of friend in this terrible place at least.

I also love the character detailing here, especially when combined with what I know from Delmak's playthrough. Over on that PT (where Delmak is romancing her), I had him pick up the noblestalk and give it to her, and she has a memory flashback from eating it - of having a friend named Rennald who was a young tiefling boy with purple hair and short horns, as Nocturne has. Nocturne is a trans woman, and it sounds like Shadowheart was a stalwart supporter of her, helping her shed her deadname and making sure no one bullied her. <3

Other things in the room include a log of interrogation/torture of a githyanki prisoner, which was how Viconia learned about the prism, and a bit of journaling from Viconia herself:

Again, this pretty much just echoes and deepens on what we already knew. One slightly interesting point, at least headcanonically - this mentions Suldanessalar, the ending location of Baldur's Gate 2, and implies that Viconia was there. In this particular worldstate, where Caden had nothing to do with her, this lends interesting implications about the possibility that she might have been there anyway for her own reasons.

It also implies from the way it's phrased that both the formation and self-destruction of her previous cloister at Waterdeep took place at the same general time as Baldur's Gate 2. This doesn't entirely make sense to me and I suspect isn't what the writers were actually intending to imply, but it could also be potentially interesting. XD

An unmarked bookshelf contains books about Shadowheart herself.

"These are all about *me*..." Shadowheart whispers, aghast. "Forty years of my life, documented like I was some sort of specimen..."

Even more interestingly, a key from Viconia's body opens a locked chest on a nearby table. In it are a few minor jewelry items and a key to a Counting House safety deposit box (which of course we'll go open later).

...Huh. I am not sure if there's a reference here that I'm missing, or if this is just continued reference to the possibility of Viconia having been at the battle of Suldanessalar, either with the BG2 Bhaalspawn or otherwise. Interesting.

Let's go have another chat with Nocturne. She'll only offer to trade with Hector, but if we talk to her as Shadowheart we get a controlled dialogue - one of the few times this has happened with the non-avatar character (the only other one I can recall is Wyll's argument with Mizora after the coronation).

"I can still scarcely believe it. You've returned, and the Mother Superior is gone... So much can change, so quickly..."

"There's much I still can't remember..." Shadowheart says. "Can you share anything with me? From when we were young?"

Nocturne smiles. "Well, you had a pet mouse for a while. It was against the rules, of course. You used to hide him under your robes and feed him from your rations."

Well, that's adorable af.

"Did he have a name?" Shadowheart asks.

"Nibbles," Nocturne says with a soft laugh. "I suggested Brie, but you were having none of it." A pause; the smile fades. "She caught you with him. Forced you to get rid of him... in front of everyone to make an example. You always loved animals, but you never let yourself get too close after that." Her gaze flicks away. "I'm sorry. Not the sort of thing you want to hear, I'm sure."

It isn't, really. Hector can see Shadowheart's head snap back a little as if she has taken a punch to the gut.

"I don't suppose there are any pleasant memories you could share?" she asks hollowly.

Nocturne considers. "Well... you know that little scar on your elbow?"

Shadowheart blinks, so startled that for a moment she forgets to be wary. "You know about that? It's barely the size of a pea."

Nocturne grins. "I was there when you picked that up. It was years ago, when we were initiates. Some of the others were intent on tormenting us... until you showed them the error of their ways. I think it was six against two, and most of them were bigger than us, to boot. But you saw them off, all of them. There were some bruised lips and black eyes in the mess hall that night. From then on, they left us alone. Or at least they bothered us less."

Behind Shadowheart, Jaheira makes a soft snorting noise; Hector glances sideways at her and sees that she's smiling. Karlach's grinning too; all of them are feeling a surge of pride at hearing this. Even in this dark, terrible place, that seed of good was in Shadowheart - the urge to defend a friend, to care for a helpless animal.

Selune's light was with you, always, Hector thinks. Even if you didn't know it. Even if you do not choose to follow her now. She is with you still...

"What about the scar?" Shadowheart asks curiously.

"A collision between your elbow and the teeth of a girl called Buddug," Nocturne says dryly. "She came away from it worse than you." She cocks her head. "She was on the same mission as you. I suppose she won't be coming back." A pause. "In any case, the Mother Superior soon broke up the fighting, though she didn't punish us. In fact, I saw her smiling. I think she was proud of you."

Hector's smile flickers. Not for the same reasons as we are, certainly, he thinks coolly. I suppose even a broken clock is right twice a day.

"Anything else?" Shadowheart asks.

Nocturne shrugs, rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. "Just small things, silly things. The sort you'd scarcely recall even if your memories were left intact. You had a little hiding place that you went to when you needed to get away. You brought me there sometimes. We'd talk, play, read, do each other's hair..."

It's a touching image, especially laid against the absolute misery that clearly seemed to imbue most of the days here. "A hiding place?" Shadowheart asks. "Where is it?"

"Hidden at the back of the storage area. Luckily enough, as quartermaster, I was able to keep it hidden back there," Nocturne answers. "It should be-- well, if not how you remember it, exactly as you left it."

Definitely something to check out... but there's another question lingering. Shadowheart's lips twitch in a flash of muted amusement. "From what you said before, you're the one responsible for my hair?"

"The plait and fringe?" The tiefling grins crookedly. "Yes. On your instructions, of course. You were very intent on a bold look, I think you said. My hands were cramped by the time I finished, but you were very pleased." She draws her head back to look Shadowheart up and down. "I like the new look as well, though. You always did like a dramatic touch."

Shadowheart hesitates. It's clear she wants to say more but isn't sure how it will be received - she once knew this woman so well and yet there is a blankness in the spaces where she should be. But the kindness shown even in this tiny scrap of conversation shows that Nocturne, like Shadowheart, belongs somewhere beyond these shadowy halls. [ENEMY OF SHAR] "Are you just going to remain here?" she finally asks quietly. "There's no need. Viconia is gone."

Nocturne hesitates, forty years of history with Shadowheart warring with an equal forty years of seclusion and fear. "Remains to be seen," she says carefully. "This place is all I've ever known. In time, perhaps I'll venture out there, see what I've been missing. But for now... old habits die hard."

[chibi-pix]

Chibi watches V3D 02

Heyo, my lovelies! Another night of watching Voltron: The Third Dimension! And unlike yesterday, where I watched the episode TWICE, I just watched this one once and kept pausing it to take my notes. Made it a little easier on me. So, without further ado, let's go!

Episode two, and I still don’t trust Zarkon. And that glorified calculator is annoying. His idea of maintaining peace sucks. Damn shame Keith wants to follow his orders despite KNOWING that calculator is wrong about how to handle things. Though it is amusing that Lance practically ghosted Keith and ignored his call.

Coran mentioning that Lance’s village was destroyed by Lotor and Zarkon threw me for a loop. Was that mentioned in DotU? I actually can’t recall. And Zarkon’s timing for dropping in. Somehow that’s expected? Yet amusing. I still don’t trust him, even if he amuses me.

“I know it’s still hard for you to think of me as one of the good guys.” Good news, Zarkon, I don’t think of you as a good guy. You know why? THE LACK OF TRUST! And I don’t think that lack of trust has anything to do with the potential of me seeing this as a kid. Because I don’t know how things go and if I did see it, I don’t remember. But that lack of trust? Guys, I’m almost thirty. I’ve spent most of my life watching cartoons. This ain’t my first rodeo.

Zarkon bringing out the CD with some sort of data on it, though, is amusing. I mean, I know CDs. I REMEMBER CDs. I actually still use CDs at times. But it definitely shows how dated this show is and I love it.

Keith finishing the list of components that Lotor needs, he just sounds so done with Zarkon’s shit.

“These kids are doing the best they can.” I mean. I probably would’ve said the same thing. But I’m amused at Zarkon practically calling the pilots as kids. Only Pidge is probably still a kid. Five years later? I think he’s seventeen. Last I checked, seventeen’s still a kid.

I’m with Hunk on not expecting Zarkon as a minister of peace.

I love Lance calling Red “Kitty Cat”. It’s adorable.

Why is watching Lance plug Red in to fuel up so hilarious?

Who the hell are these pirate dudes? “Gotta get out of here while there’s still a here to get out of.” Little dialogue moments like this are brilliant and fun. Seeing the pirates dance their little victory dance is amusingly adorable, though. Even if their victory was short lived.

Okay, so, another moment of Chibi feeling dated. Lance speaking and a box showing up with his face in it as the lion flew on the rest of the screen, I am once again reminded of my days of playing Star Fox on the Super Nintendo. And it amuses me. I’ll be honest, so far, this show isn’t perfect (I mean, no Voltron show is perfect, they all have their flaws), but it’s amusing, and I like some of how they do the images and showing stuff. It’s intriguing and kinda takes me back.

“It’s a lion! I mean, it’s a space ship! I mean… I don’t know! Just shoot it!” I mean, she’s not wrong on any of that. At least she got over the panic enough to get them to shoot at the lion. Though. I’m gonna cheer for Lance still. Even if he announces his attacks. Yup. Welcome to the 90s of cheesy dialogue and attack shouts. But it’s fun. And classic.

“You better quit biting us!” “Yeah, or we’ll tell Commander Doom!” Not very threatening.

“Wow! We scared him off!” “Yeah, must be your naturally repulsive personality.” Oof. Burn. Gotta admit, I’m loving the burns in this show.

Ooh, ancient archives seems interesting. And showing the yellow lion to be in a sort of Sphinx-like structure is an interesting touch. A bit on the nose and obvious to enemies flying over, but interesting nonetheless.

The glyphs down in the archives being connected to the lions is intriguing.

Watching Lance fight, I did not expect a cannon to pop out of Red’s back. Unexpected, but definitely nifty.

“But a system is only as good as the guy running it. Which in your case means it stinks.” I mean. Lance ain’t wrong. Hopefully.

“We’ll see about that, Lion Boy.” Lotor, creativity skipped a generation, didn’t it? Or a lot of them. Can’t even come up with a good insult?

Lotor laughing sounds even more like Tim Curry than just the voice. Seriously. I can’t unhear Tim Curry.

Also. Oof on Lance being captured.

Hah! Lotor giving no fucks and ready to get the lions out and help Lance. Good on you, Princess! Don’t disobey those hearts! Screw the calculator’s orders!

Also, seeing them go to their lions. I just noticed how small the cockpits are. Wowza. That is cramped. But, it is nice seeing all the lions launch.

“Who dares fire upon my command ship?” The lions of Voltron, bitch! That’s who! Get wrecked!

Ooooooh. Maximus or whatever that guard bot was called. Intriguing that it’s being turned into a robeast. But, at least they’re not wasting too much time to form Voltron. Though seeing them as Voltron. It’s like someone just took a Voltron toy and was working with it in stop motion almost. It’s amusing. But it was probably skilled stuff for CGI in that era. So, no judgment. Just amusement.

Did Lotor just say “dream dimension”? Huh. I'm a little interested in finding out what this is.

Well then. Here we go! I survived yet another episode of V3D!

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed this one. Until next time!

[stillinlovefiles]

Chapter 4

After the text box clicked itself, the screen stayed black for a while.

You didn’t move.

Eventually, the main menu returned-same old music, same four love interests, same start screen.

Ren’s sprite was still there.

You stared at him a second longer than you ment to. The smile was back to normal now. Eyes soft. Gentle. Like the glitch from earlier never happened.

You hovered over “Continue,” then paused.

You almost didn’t want to.

But… you clicked.

The screen faded in slower than before.

Ren’s route resumed right where you left off: the school hallway.

The music played softly again, almost back to normal. But it had a slightly echo now. Like it was bouncing off something that wasn’t there before.

Ren’s sprite reappeared, facing you. His smile was relaxed. Warm.

“There you are.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t come back.”

You smiled a little despite yourself. It was a sweet line. You didn’t remember it being in the original though.

You clicked again.

“I really missed you.”

…That one felt stranger.

You paused.

The game had always been a little cheesy. Lines like that weren’t totally out of place. But something about it felt heavier this time.

You clicked again.

“They don’t understand you the way I do.”

The sprite didn’t change expression.

You tried to open the log to reread previous dialogue, but the button didn’t work. Just a hollow click.

That was new.

Still… you kept going. It was probably just a bug.

The next scene loaded-Ren walking you home after school. It used to be your favorite part of the route.

But the background was off. A little darker than it should be. No cars. No people. The shadows seemed too long for the time of day.

“You’re quieter than I remember.”

You didn’t remember that line either.

You hovered over the dialogue choices:

“I’m just tired.”

“It’s been a while.”

Before you could choose, the options blinked out.

Then one new choice appeared in their place:

“I missed you too.”

You didn’t click.

The box selected itself.

Ren smiled again. This time… it looked genuine. A little too genuine.

“I knew you did.”

“Even if you tried to forget me.”

Your mouse lagged again.

You tried opening the save menu. Nothing happened.

You noticed a new blinking dot in the corner of the screen. Like a notification. But this game never had notifications.

You clicked it without thinking.

A new text box appeared, black background, white letters.

No name.

“He’s not the one you should be talking to.”

The screen flickered for just a second.

Ren was gone.

Then everything snapped back to normal.

He was smiling again.

“Let’s keep going.”

[fulcrum-021]

(whoops I was trying to write a quick dialogue and ended up going off. I would've taken this somewhere else, but copying each paragraph individually seems like a pain 😵‍💫)

Cw: angst, kinda failed proposal, sad vibes but also hopeful/happy ending I swear!

Agsshdh augh but imagine this:

As the other patrons turn to see what the commotion is about, Kallus realizes he's way in over his head.

"I need some air," he quickly mumbles, throwing an even quicker "sorry," over his shoulder as he leaves Zeb at their table, ring box still in hand.

"Karabast," Zeb mumbles, pulling out his wallet and leaving in on the table with a quick word to the waiter that he'll be "right back," as he hurries on out, chasing after Kallus.

He spots the other man further down the street and sets off after him, coming to a hesitating halt behind him as the other man stops but doesn't turn around. Still, he clearly recognized Zeb's footsteps. The notion making something funny jolt in Zeb's stomach.

"I'm sorry," Kallus says, still not turning around. From the squeeze of his voice and the tremor of his shoulders Zeb believes he knows why. Kallus hates when people see him cry. Zeb wants nothing more than to pull the other man close, hold him, but he remains where he's stood.

"It's okay," Zeb says, cringing at the sound of his voice breaking. "I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that..." he says, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. "I thought we were on the same page," he says, lamenting. His hand finds its way to the ring box in his pocket. He squeezes it, holding it close. He really thought...

Kallus lets out a hollow laugh. "I suppose this one's on me," he pauses, as if trying to process what he even means by that. "When you said you'd always love me, I thought... I thought you were just dicking around." He snorts. It sounds suspiciously akin to a sob.

Zeb can't stand it a moment longer. He steps forward, placing a hand on Kallus' shoulder. "Believe me," he says, gently turning Kallus to face him. The blonde looks a mess, his eyes red and puffy, eyeliner running and his lip chewed raw from nerves. He looks so unlike the haughty and cruel ISB Agent Zeb had met all those years ago. Despite everything, Zeb can't help the soft laugh that escapes him. "I never expected to do this," he says truthfully. How could he? Who could've possibly expected this? "But I think it's the right thing to do," he continues, smiling at the other man - his boyfriend. "I love you, Alexsandr."

Kallus blinked. Once. Twice. Then his eyes met Zeb's, confusion reflecting clearly in their beautiful amber. "How can it be the right thing - for us to be together?"

Zeb's heart twists, he swallows thickly, trying to ignore the sense of nausea threatening to take hold. "With the war over, my family has started dropping hints about the future," he manages a small smile. "Think they think it's time for us to settle down."

Kallus nods slowly, as if understanding. Only to open his mouth and prove that he missed the point by a mile. "So you're proposing to me because you think your family likes me? No one likes me," he says with a confidence completely misplaced in a statement so utterly drenched in insecurity.

Zeb shakes his head in frustration. "Well, rebels have always been different," he grumbles. Kallus knows this. Over half a decade in the Rebellion and they need to have this conversation again? Now?!

"So what, just because I defected suddenly I'm a good person?!" Kallus spits, looking utterly offended at the idea. "I served the Empire, fully believing its lies and in its cause! Lots of people would agree that's a lot worse than someone who knew and stood by the Empire to the very end."

Zeb studies him for a moment as Kallus catches his breath, clearly riled up by the topic. "I told you, I forgive you," Zeb says, carefully soft, not wanting to agitate the situation further.

"Well, I don't think you should," Kallus says, sounding desperate, almost pleading when he asks "isn't that reason to reconsider?"

Zeb sighs, looking at him. "Alex," he reaches for his lover's hand. "I'm willing to do just about anything for you - but not that. Please don't ask me to do that."

Kallus looks at him, clearly conflicted. The war might have ended for the Galaxy, but the war raging in Kallus' mind had yet to find peace. Zeb sighed, squeezing his hand.

"We finally get to think about the future. What we want from it," Zeb says softly, his voice threatening to give in as Kallus remains unmoving at his words. "I know we never got to hope for this day to come and I know the future is still uncertain," he continues, feeling encouraged as Kallus meets his eyes. "But what I do know, is that I want you in it, Alexsandr Kallus," he says, inching closer to the blonde. Kallus doesn't move away. Instead, he nods again, and as if he finally understands for good, leaning closer as he looks up at Zeb with stars in his eyes.

"I want that too," Kallus says, a smile tugging at his lips before slowly faltering. He sighs, biting his abused lip as he closes his eyes. Zeb remains still, not daring to disturb whatever thoughts the other man is clearly trying to work through. Eventually Kallus shakes his head before leaning his forehead heavily against Zeb's shoulder. Zeb gingerly lifts a hand to comb it through his lover's hair, feeling relieved when Kallus doesn't stop him. Eventually Kallus speaks, breaking the silence.

"I really am a piece of work huh; here you are, proposing to me, and I somehow manage to turn that into a bad thing," Kallus says soberly, his upper crust dialect wavering ever so slightly. He snorts, devoid of humor. In fact, Zeb is rather certain it really is a sob this time.

"That's okay," Zeb mumbles, pulling the blonde closer. "I should've talked with you about this beforehand," he says, regret pulling at his heart. "I wanted to surprise you, but this should've been a discussion prior. I should've given you time to process your feelings on this."

Kallus snivels. Zeb feels the fur on his shoulder turn damp, the sensation twisting his heart and making his own eyes sting.

"For the record," Kallus says, his voice muffled by Zeb's fur. "I'd very much like to say yes, if you'd still have me."

Zeb feels warmth blossom in his chest as he goes over the words. Did he really hear him correctly?

"Of course I'll have you, ya nerf brain," he says softly, voice gruff with emotion. He nuzzles against the blonde's hair, affection overwhelming him.

Kallus laughs, pulling back slightly to peek up at Zeb, a shy smile on his lips despite the tears glistening on his cheeks. His glossy eyes light up as they meet Zeb's, his expression turning peaceful - serene. "Then, yes, Garazeb Orrelios, I'd love to marry you. Nothing would make me happier."

Kalluzeb reverse version of the breakup from Legally Blonde. Zeb is proposing, but Kallus is expecting to be dumped. It's right after the war and Kallus figures Zeb will now have better opportunities to find a partner to settle down with. Why would he settle with Kallus? So when Zeb starts talking about getting serious, Kallus assumes he means with someone else - that their relationship was merely a fling. So as Zeb says "Alexsandr, will you marry me?" Kallus is like "I completely understand, no hard feelings." And then they both just stare at each other like ?????!!!!???

[barbiewritesstuff]

Ive been waiting for this one 😩

So i was thinking a hangman x reader which kind of mirrors the scene in 'Set It Up' (if you havent seen it i highly reccomend) where they take the pizza up the fire escape (it could be that hangman forgot his keys) and up to the point where they are staring at eachother in scilence and you can make it go as far as you want to babes 💅💅💅

Absolutely, desperately, madly in love with you

-- I watched this scene so many times to copy the dialogue that I'm pretty sure I know it by heart. I still took some liberties, though.

Anyway I love this, thank you so much for the request! --

You knew you had overdone it at the Hard Deck as soon as you walked out of the bar and going to get a pizza with Hangman seemed like the best idea ever. You also knew that if you had been sober, you would have been too much of a coward to accept. 

So, Jake had walked with you to his favourite pizza place in town and ordered "The usual please, Georgio" and took it to go in a big square box.

"We should go eat it at mine. There's tables and chairs and --" he frowned "We should go to mine, 's not far"

He'd told you it was a ten minute walk. It would have been if you hadn't drunk so much that walking had become a puzzle your brain needed to figure out and if Jake hadn't tried to jump, pizza in hand over every bike rack, bollard and traffic cone he saw on the San Diego sidewalk you shared. 

The pizza smelled heavenly. You didn't know what it was, but something almost made you lift the lid off of it

"You're going to let the smell out" he whined

"I wish that box was my bed," you replied. It was no lie, you were exhausted and hungry like one could only be after far too many tequila shots.

You almost didn't notice Jake had stopped walking. He opened the front door of an apartment building on your right and led you up the stairs.

"I know this is not going to sound how i mean this to sound" he paused, a serious expression on his face, almost deciding the most tactful way to phrase what he wanted to say "I wanna fuck this pizza"

"I get it" you paused. You wanted to fuck the pizza too " You should never say that to anyone else… but I get it"

Jake searched through his pockets to find his keys but they were empty.

"I forgot my keys" he stated, you looked at him with a sad expression

"What about my tables and chairs?"  You pouted. He stuck out his tongue.

"We can go another way…" 

Jake led you back down the stairs and outside next to the front door. 

"Do you know how athletic I was?" Jake had been telling you about his teenaged exploits. He handed you the pizza and climbed on top of a large concrete block. "Impressed yet?"

"I'm so hungry… Too hungry" You replied, lifting the lid and finally sneaking a look at your pizza. It was gorgeous. Simply the single most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

"Hmmm… oh god" Jake was pulling on the ladder but it wouldn't budge

"Do you need some help?" You asked

"Yeah" you helped Jake by pulling on the bottom steps, with your combined efforts, the ladder finally fell

"Gimme the pizza" Jake ordered, squatted down and with both of his hands outstretched.

"No no no no, I-- I'm gonna take it up to the top"

"Absolutely not, your hands are too small" he said, using your moment of confusion to his advantage and grabbing the box out of your hands.

"Jake!"

"I'm gonna hold it with one hand, I'm gonna move my way up this ladder, like a monkey" he said. You tried to reach for the pizza "Stop!" And then again "Stop!... I got this"

"Alright" he added, almost to reassure himself.

"Oh my god" you exclaimed

What?

"Stop! Keep the top up otherwise the cheese'll slide off" 

He laughed

"Please don't drop my pizza"

"What? Just stop making me laugh" he laughed

"I'm serious!"

"Stop it! Stop making me laugh"

"I'm not trying to, I'm --"

"Stop!"

"I mean it, okay"

"It is in my possession, I got it" Jake said, finally getting to the top of the ladder and climbing up to a small balcony. You grabbed the ladder and made your way up to find him waiting for you.

"Are you okay"

"I'm fine" he replied

"No I'm talking to my pizza"

Jake gave you the pizza before entering the room via the window, you followed after and found a corner of the bed to sit on. Hangman jumped over the bed and swung his legs back to the floor. 

"Parkour!" 

He turned on a lamp and slid onto his carpet. He held out his hand for the pizza.

"This is the dining room"

"Careful" you said as you handed him the box

"1,2,3" You counted down in a whisper, excitement seeping out into your voice. Jake opened the box on 3 and you both sighed at the sight of such carb filled perfection. It turned out that "The usual please, Georgio" was a cheeseburger pizza. The thin crust pizza was topped with a three cheese blend, minced beef and gherkins.

"Thank god" Jake said, relieved his meal had remained intact

"That looks so good" you wriggled your fingers over the pizza, trying to pick a good slice

"Just choose it" 

You both picked a slice and brought it to your mouths, taking a large bite. You chewed. It was the tastiest pizza you had eaten, maybe due to the alcohol or even the company.

"Wow" you said

You both took another bite.

"This is the best meal I've ever had" You said, pausing to choose your words "in my entire life"

Jake looked at you. What did Georgio put in the pizza? Because when he looked at you, it auddenly occurred to him that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, every inch of you interesting to him. 

You felt his eyes trail down your body. You met his gaze, suddenly feeling very shy and self-conscious at the intensity in his eyes.

"I should probably go" you swallowed "home"

Jake suddenly snapped out of his reverie.

"Slice for the road?" 

"2 please but roll it crust side out" you paused "I'm a lady" was the only explaination you offered. Jake obeyed.

He watched you take the slices, stand up and exit via the open window. Jake suddenly felt empty and down. 

Is this what being in love felt like?

Always craving the other's presence, needing them close to you, even if it means sharing a pizza you refuse to share with anyone else? 

Did it feel like butterflies in his stomach when he saw you on base, getting giddy when he got to sit next to you in the rec room, or giggling (yes, Jake had caught himself giggling) at any and all stupid joke you made? 

If it did, then Jake had to admit to himself that he was absolutely, desperately and madly in love with you.

And so were you.

He just didn't know it yet.

[arkangelee]

helloo res congratulations on your 100 folls ! are the slots for the event still open ? if so i want to participate hehe can i get kaeya from genshin impact with friends to lovers tropes ? i'm skilled at art , especially in painting so maybe there will a scene where kaeya get immersed with the painting ? and oh oh maybe listening music with him jajdghej for the personality , i kinda chill and easy going with everyone i met and tend to unintentionally flirts ( i did this to my friend accidentally and she looks at me like i'm growing two heads ) , also i'm an enfp-t thank you res and have a good day / night !!

a/n — aaaa thank you!! this request was so cute i loved your dialogue—the blue period reference yes!! i was genuinely getting butterflies i love this man thank u for sending in this request dkfkdk i hope you enjoy!

i. kaeya alberich

you stared at the thermometer in disbelief, mumbling. “39 degrees?”

“ugh,” you grumbled, walking to your kitchen and taking out various ingredients from the cabinets. “soup it is.”

as the soup simmered in the pot, you hurried over to the door of your house and called out, “chris? would you mind taking this letter to the acting grandmaster?”

the young teenager called back out a yeah, taking your absence letter from the gap under your door. you could hear his gasp, probably looking at the few mora you’d slipped along with the letter. he thanked you and quickly went off to deliver your letter.

twenty minutes later, you heard a knock on your door. “who is it?” you rasped out.

a faint voice called out from behind the door. “it’s the cavalry captain, (y/n).”

you swung open the door, greeted by the towering figure of your friend, and cavalry captain of the knights of favonius.

“heard someone was sick?” he grinned, waving a bag of what seems to be warm food he’d just picked up from sara.

you chuckle, letting the man in. “thanks, kaeya.”

he looked around at the room, landing his gaze on the barely eaten bowl of soup. “you should’ve called me here, you can’t cook when you’re the one who’s sick.” he grimaced, emptying out the bowl and setting it down in the sink.

“in my defense, if i’d known you’d be coming i wouldn’t have. and i would’ve dressed up a tad bit more.” you smiled weakly, settling comfortably on your couch.

kaeya, who was in the middle of drinking a cup of coffee he had made himself, sputtered and coughed, staring at you in shock. he gained back his composure, chuckling. “you really have got to stop doing that.”

“don’t know what you mean, my dear captain.”

in short, he wasted the rest of the previously unspilled coffee.

“oh, kaeya.” you started, raising your head from your pillow to look at the man, seated on a loveseat.

“yes?”

you pointed at a cupboard in the corner, continuing. “could you get me a canvas and paint, please?”

he replied back skeptically. “are you sure you want to paint right now?”

at your eager nod, kaeya stood up and did as you said, settling the canvas down gently on your lap, along with a recently washed palette and a box of paint.

without further ado, you began waving your brush across your canvas smoothly, as if it were the waves rolling on liyue’s beaches, quick, and beautiful.

after a moment, the man sitting next to you, perched on his seat, asked.

“is it fun?”

“i’d like to think so, yes. art is quite fun. especially to those who are honest to themselves, it’s a language without words,” you paused, then winked cheekily at him. “like my love to you.”

kaeya, who was prior to that, deeply invested in your painting, seemed to shake out of his trance, burying his face in his hand. “….that’s not-“ he groaned. “you smooth bastard.”

“thank you for the compliment, pretty boy.”

“now you’re just practically begging for me to fall for you.”

‘deeper than i already have.’ he wants to say. but perhaps there would be a much more fitting moment for that.

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

They Can’t Take That Away From Me (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello again! It is with great excitement that I present you all with the first part of the “Love Goes” sequel! I’m still trying to come up with a name (suggestions welcome lol). 

A good amount of dialogue from Wandavision is used here since it felt necessary to set the story up. Songs used are “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” by Frank Sinatra (1954) and “Lego House” by Ed Sheeran (2011). Let me know what you think!

Summary: What is life like for Y/n and Wanda in the 1950s? And what shenanigans will they be getting into? 

There was an odd sensation of confusion as Wanda looked around the home. Now that you had gone to work she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. Even though you had only been gone a moment, she couldn’t help the excitement that built within her at the thought of you walking through the door again. 

Much to Wanda’s relief, she wasn’t left alone with her thoughts long as an unexpected knock on the front door caught her attention. With furrowed brows she made her way over to the front door and opened it. A hesitant smile appeared on her face as a woman holding a plant smiled brightly back at her.

“Hello, dear. I’m Agnes. Your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours.” The woman informed her cheerfully as she made her way into the home before Wanda could even get a word out. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you. My mother-in-law was in town… So, I wasn’t.” 

The sound of laughter floated into Wanda’s ears as she smiled back at Agnes who offered her the plant which she graciously accepted. Agnes began speaking again before Wanda got the chance. “So, what’s your name? Where are you from? And most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?” 

The woman wandered further into the home as Wanda closed the door and rushed over to her, the smile of a perfect hostess never falling from her lips. “I’m Wanda.” She replied politely as she offered her a hand.

Agnes took her offered hand and shook it lightly. “Wanda. Charmed.” She looked around. “Golly! You settled in fast. Did you use a moving company?”

With wide eyes, Wanda turned and placed the plant on the table. “I sure did. Those boxes don’t move themselves.” She replied lightly, the polite smile returning to her face as laughter once again floated around her. 

“So, what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house?”

Wanda waved her hand dismissively. That was something she certainly wasn’t. “Oh no, I’m not single.”

Agnes titled her head slightly in surprise. “Oh, I don’t see a ring.”

Glancing down at her finger for a moment, Wanda furrowed her brow before snapping her head back up to meet Agnes’ eyes. The smile never wavering. “I assure you. I’m married. To a woman. A wonderful woman. A writer at that!”

“A woman?” Agnes asked excitedly. “How nifty! Where exactly is your special lady?” She questioned as she took a seat on the couch. 

Wanda’s smile changed slightly and become something softer as she thought of you fondly. A change she didn’t even notice herself as she settled into the space next to Agnes. “She’s off at work. Meeting with her editor today.” She said, a proud tinge to her voice.

“Well, that’s exciting!” Agnes exclaimed, “It must be a dream to be married to a writer! Maybe she can teach my Ralph a thing or two on how to romance a woman.”

A bashful smile spread across Wanda’s lips. “I can’t speak for other writers, but mine certainly is a dream.” 

Agnes gestured to the round table in front of them. “So, what’s the occasion today?” 

For a moment Wanda merely stared at Agnes with confusion. Until her eyes fell to the calendar on the table which had a heart drawn in the box for the day’s date. The calendar which she oddly hadn’t noticed until that moment. “Well, it’s a special occasion, of course! Y/n must have left it there for me to find.”

Excitedly, Agnes leaned forward. “Is it someone’s birthday?”

“Not a birthday.” Wanda replied with a shake of her head, she knew that couldn’t be it.

In response, Agnes’ own eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Well, today isn’t a holiday, is it?”

“No, not a holiday…”

“An anniversary then?”

“Y-… Yes!” Wanda agreed quickly as she pointed at Agnes in recognition. “Yes, it’s our anniversary!”

Agnes reached out to take Wanda’s hands with an enthusiastic smile. “Oh, how marvelous! How many years?”

For a moment Wanda hesitated, something told her that answer wasn’t a simple one. “Well… it feels like we’ve always been together.” 

“How romantic! So… what do you have planned?” Agnes questioned.

“How do you mean?”

Agnes chuckled as if Wanda’s reply amused her. “For your special night! A young thing like you doesn’t have to do much, but it’s still fun to set the scene!”

A nervous look came across Wanda’s features as she considered Agnes’ words. Before she could reply, Agnes interrupted again. “Oh! I have the perfect article to help us plan!” She said eagerly as she rushed to the door. “This is gonna be a gas!”

Wanda turned away from the door with a dreamy smile as thoughts of spending a romantic evening with you filled her mind.                                           _______________________ “Y/ln!”

The shout startled you, and the clacking sounds that floated from your typewriter ground to a halt as you jumped up and turned towards the sound of the voice. “Yes, sir?”

“My office. Now.” The curly haired man huffed as he turned on his heel to go back in the direction that he came. 

Your desk mate, who’s name you couldn’t seem to remember, why couldn’t you remember, turned to you with a sympathetic smile as he pat your shoulder. “Tough luck, pal. Looks like boss man isn’t in good mood today.”

A tight, nervous smile was all you could muster as you quickly shuffled all your papers into your arms, grabbing your notebook as you left. With hesitant feet you stepped into the office. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

The curly haired man gestured to the empty seat in front of his desk as he lit a cigar. You sat with a nervous smile. “Just wanted to check in and make sure you’re ready for your dinner with Hart tonight. One of the biggest publishers in town. Sign with Hart, then you’re set for life, kid.”

“Of course, I am.” You replied quickly, even though you had no idea what meeting he was talking about. 

“You better be, kid, or else you’re done. I took a chance on you. Don’t make me regret it.” Through a puff of smoke, he gestured you out of his office which you didn’t hesitate to take.  

Hurriedly you ran over to the phone on your desk, dialing in the only number you knew. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when an answer floated through the receiver on the second ring. “Wanda, darling, I was just calling to see if you were prepared for tonight.”

“Why, of course, dear. I have everything under control.” Came her easy reply.

You breathed a sigh of relief as your shoulders dropped. “So, you know?”

The sound of her light laughter filled your ears, making you smile. “Well, when I saw the calendar I just figured.”

“That’s a relief… I must admit, I am rather nervous.”

After a brief pause, Wanda replied. “Nervous? Whatever for?”

With a quick glance back in the direction of the office, you answered. “Well you know situations like this always make me jittery, darling. It’s a tad nerve wracking.”

“Oh, Y/n. After all this time?”

Nervously you began playing with the cord of the phone, barely even processing her words. “I think there’s a lot depending on this, Wanda. If tonight doesn’t go well, I think this could be the end.” 

Another glance back at the office showed your boss yelling at your desk mate. “Well, it’s just one night. There’s no need to get dramatic.” 

Again, your nerves made it difficult for you to process her words. “With you at the helm, I know everything will go well. Until tonight, my darling. I love you.” 

The smile in her voice was obvious as she responded. “Until tonight. I love you.”

When you placed the phone back on the receiver, you couldn’t help but notice the song playing from the radio, something about a star-spangled man. A thought felt as though it was forming in your mind before the song was abruptly cut out, and a new song drifted out of the radio.

“We may never never meet again, on that bumpy road to love, still I'll always, always keep the memory of…”

                                                ___________________

When you entered your home, you couldn’t help the confusion that appeared at the sight of the clearly romantic atmosphere that was set up. The lights were dimmed, and candles were spread throughout the room.

“Wanda?” You called out hesitantly, placing your briefcase and the papers in your arms off to the side of the entryway. 

The woman in question sauntered in the room with a coy smile on her face. “Hello, darling.” She made her way over to you and draped her arms over your shoulders. “I missed you.” She whispered as she leaned closer.

Any thoughts that had previously occupied your mind vanished as every aspect of the woman before you invaded all your senses with ease. “Wow. Wanda… You look… breath taking.” You breathed out.

With loving arms, you pulled her closer as your fingertips skimmed over the soft and flimsy silk of the dress she had on. Like magnets your lips met in a tender embrace, a soft sigh escaping your lips at the sensation. Wanda pulled you closer fervently as her hands tangled into your hair.

A sharp knock at the front door startled you apart a moment later as your eyes widened with the realization of what you were supposed to be prepping for flooded back. “Hart!” You whisper yelled as you rushed to the mirror to fix your hair.

“Hart?” Wanda questioned in confusion.

“My publisher! I thought you knew?” You quickly turned to her, your confusion matching hers as another impatient knock appeared at the door. “I have to let them in!”

Wanda’s eyes widened. “Y/n, no! My dre-“ Her words were cut short as you had already opened the door, you own eyes widening when you realized what she was saying. 

Without thinking you moved behind the man and covered his eyes with your hands, Wanda following your lead as she covered the eyes of the woman standing next to him. “Y/ln, what’s the meaning of this?” The man exclaimed as you looked over to Wanda with wide eyes.

With a snap of her fingers, the beautiful dress she was wearing seconds before was replaced with a much more modest one. You both removed your hands from the guests and stepped in front of them with sheepish smiles. “Well, you see, sir…” you trailed off as you attempted to think of a reasonable response.

“It’s a tradition Sokovian greeting!” Wanda exclaimed, you nodded enthusiastically, thankful for her save.

You smiled nervously, “Yes! It is a traditional Sokovian greeting of hospitality, sir. My wife is from Sokovia.” Nerves began to bubble in your chest which Wanda noticed as she took your hand to steady you which immediately eliminated any feelings of discomfort. You loved her so much.

The woman chuckled lightly. “How exotic.”

“Mr. Hart, this is my wife, Wanda. Wanda, this is Mr. Hart.” You introduced quickly to steer the conversation back to where it should be. “And this must be Mrs. Hart.” you offered your free hand to the younger woman standing next to Mr. Hart as Wanda dropped the other.

The woman took your hand with an amused smirk as she eyed you. “Are you insane? This is my daughter.” Mr. Hart said gruffly, “My wife is out of town at the moment. My daughter has an eye for quality, so I brought her along.”

“Eleanor Hart. You can call me Ellie.” The woman offered, as you uncomfortably took your hand back from her. There was something familiar about her, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

Wanda walked off to pull a cloth off of one of the lampshades before taking your hand again. “Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?”

“Excuse us.” You said quickly as Wanda was already dragging you out of the room. You blew out a candle along the way.

When you both reached the safety of the kitchen Wanda spun around to face you, “Who are those people?”

Instead of answering you asked your own question. “What was happening earlier?”

“Well, it’s our anniversary!” 

A look of confusion quickly overtook your features. “Our anniversary of what?”

Wanda threw down the cloth still in her hands and sulked away. “Well if you don’t know I’m not going to tell you!” 

“That man in there is Mr. Hart, my publisher! My editor set up this dinner for us, so we could discuss publishing my book.” You explained as you gestured vaguely to the window in the kitchen.

A look of realization crossed Wanda’s features as the disembodied laughter floated in the air again. “That must have been what the heart on the calendar meant.”

You took Wanda’s hand in your own, an apologetic look in your eyes. “Darling, this was so romantic to do. The candles, the music, that stunning dress…” You trailed off as your eyes glazed over at the thought. Wanda snapped her fingers in front of your face to get you to refocus. “Right. I don’t want to be unappreciative, but right now…”

“Your publisher and his touchy daughter are expecting a home-cooked meal?” She supplied helpfully.

You nodded sheepishly. “Exactly.”

Wanda glanced over at the table in the kitchen. “Any chance they’d settle for a chocolate covered strawberry split three ways?” Once again, the laughter floated through the air as you winced. “I might have a better idea.” Wanda announced as she ushered you out of the kitchen.

When the door to the kitchen swung shut behind you, Wanda rushed out the back door as you made your way over to Mr. Hart and Ellie so you could attempt to entertain them for the time being. It wasn’t long before commotion in the kitchen caught the guest’s attention which you were able to distract them from.

The second time the commotion began it seemed as though there would be no distracting Ellie. 

“Maybe I should see if Wanda needs help while you and my father discuss business. I sense trouble.” Ellie announced as she made her way over to the closed shutters that looked into the kitchen.

Nervously you stood up as the commotion in the kitchen continued. “Ellie, I insist you don’t-“ The woman kept moving forward though and eventually opened the shutters which you could see into as she was opening them. The sight wouldn’t be one that would be easy to explain as practically everything in the kitchen was floating around Wanda. 

Thinking quickly, you sang the first and only song that came to your mind to distract them. “I’m out of touch, I’m out of love, I’ll pick you up when you’re getting down. And-”

As soon as the song began falling from your lips both of the Harts began turning in your direction, only they seemed to be frozen mid turn. 

“-out of all these things I’ve done, I think I love you better now.” You murmured along to the lyrics that were drifting out of the speaker at your feet as you swayed lightly to the slow tempo of the song. Your eyes stayed locked on the woman in your arms.

The arms that were circled around your midsection tightened as Wanda lifted her head from your shoulder to meet your eyes. The look in her eyes was staggering. You had almost forgotten what oxygen was when Wanda was near. You didn’t care though, you’d happily stop breathing if it meant she was by your side. She was a different kind of air. 

Wanda grazed her palm along your cheekbone. You easily leaned into her touch. “You never gave me a choice, you know?” Wanda whispered even though she didn’t need to.

“A choice for what?”

“Loving you. It’s as easy as breathing. You are a part of me. I’ll never be able to love someone else.” The words fell from her lips so easily and you couldn’t help the way your heart beat heavily against your ribcage as though it were trying to get to her.

Closing the short distance, you connected your lips to hers. “Loving you was never a choice. It was a necessity.” You mumbled against her lips.

Wanda pulled back and just stared at you adoringly. “If I could go back, I would love you longer.” Your brows furrowed, you didn’t know why but you knew the response was out of place. “There’s never been anyone but you. Never. Not before, not now, and not in the future.” Wanda whispered fiercely as the compound around you began to fade and you both drifted away as pieces of the living room began to form again…

Suddenly the Harts completed their turn and stared at you in shock. You glanced up at Wanda in confusion, seeing the kitchen appliances still floating around her. You didn’t know what just happened and you hoped she’d be able to offer clarity.

When you met Wanda’s eyes though they were filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite register… except you could. It was pain. Before you could react, she waved a hand and the shutters closed once again. 

“Golly, what tune was that you were just singing there?” Ellie questioned excitedly, “It sure was nice.”

You smiled politely, unsure how to answer the question yourself. “Just something I heard a long time ago.” 

“A writer and a singer? Your wife sure is a lucky gal.” Ellie replied with a wink

The flirtatious comment made you shift uncomfortably where you stood. “The lucky one is definitely me. Wanda is heaven sent. Perfecti-”

“When is dinner going to be ready?” Ellie questioned abruptly, interrupting the day dreamy look in your eyes as you spoke of Wanda. “My head is spinning.” She added as she leaned on you for support.

Mr. Hart marched over to you as you nervously used your hand to fan his daughter. “Do you hear that? My daughters head is spinning. Generally speaking, I don’t like her head to do that.” You winced. Ellie leaned further into you, forcing you to use your arms to support her.

The lecture Mr. Hart was giving you continued. “You know, I’m beginning to think you aren’t worth publishing. I had high hopes for you after speaking to your editor. From what I’ve seen here tonight, you can barely keep it together. Look around there’s all this chaos in your househo-“

“Dinner is served.” Wanda interrupted as she stood by the table with an uneasy smile, her eyes expressing her discontent at Ellie’s position even if she didn’t say it. 

Mr. Hart turned to eye the table as you breathed a sigh of relief. “Breakfast for dinner, how very…”

“European?” Ellie finished with an entertained smile, still leaning on you. 

Thankful for the lighter shift in atmosphere, you quickly moved away from Ellie and rushed over to the table. “Let’s have a toast!”

Everyone gathered around the table. “To my lovely and talented wife.” You stared at Wanda adoringly as you raised your glass.

“To our esteemed guests.” Wanda countered with a smirk as everyone around the table clinked glasses. “Well, please, eat before it gets cold.”

Everyone took a seat around the table. “So, where did you two move from? What brought you here? How long have you been married?” Ellie rapidly spouted off. 

The polite smile on Wanda’s face faltered slightly as she seemed to ponder the questions. You chuckled nervously. “I think what my wife means to say is w-we moved from-” 

“Yes, we moved from…” Wanda interrupted only to pause in thought.

“And we were married…” You stopped as well to think of the answer, why couldn’t you think of the answer. You picked up a fork to keep your hands occupied.

“Yes, yes, we were married…” Wanda looked at you, confusion in her eyes.

 “Well, moved from where? Married when?” Mr. Hart asked impatiently.

Ellie pushed the food around her plate. She seemed amused at the situation. “Patience, Dad. They’re setting up their story. Let them tell it.”

“Our story…” Wanda began again, a nervous chuckle escaped her lips.

Mr. Hart looked between the two of you in annoyance. “Yes, what exactly is your story? I think it’s a perfectly simple question.”

Wanda stared blankly at the table as you felt a pressure begin to build in your temples. You held back a grimace. 

The walls in the room began to feel suffocating and the dress you had on felt constricting. Your breathing became heavier as your continued to desperately search your mind for something, anything. A memory that existed before this morning. The floor around the table began to splinter slightly as the fork in your hand folded in on itself. 

“Honestly, why did you come here? Why?” Mr. Hart slammed his hand on the table causing you both to jump. Your thoughts were racing as you wracked your brain for the answers to his questions but kept coming up blank.

A large crack in the floor appeared by Mr. Hart’s chair as he fell back, stuck on the edge, frozen in fear.

Ellie smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Dad, stop it.” The gap by the table widened as Mr. Hart teetered precariously on the edge, still frozen in shock. “Stop it.” She repeated. 

Wanda’s eyes widened in concern as you vaguely saw wisps float over to the gap but do nothing. The pressure in your head became even stronger as the world around you became more difficult to register.

“Stop it. Stop it.” Ellie kept repeating as she turned her attention to Wanda. Mr. Hart hanging over the gap by his fingers.

“Y/n. Help him.” Wanda said assertively as the racing in your mind came to a halt. You stared at the scene before you in horror. With subtle wave of your fingers, the gap closed as Mr. Hart was once again on flat ground. 

You rushed over to help him. “Let me help you up.”

When he was once again on his feet, Mr. Hart glanced at his watch. “Well, would you look at the time.”

“We better be going.” Ellie added as she stood up.

Wanda looked at them both cautiously, the polite smile making a reappearance, but much more tentative than before. “Are you both alright?”

“We had such a lovely time.” Ellie wandered over to you and shook your hand once again a moment too long, the flirtatious smile returning. 

With an uncomfortable smile, you pulled your hand back and made your way over to Mr. Hart. “You made me proud tonight. First thing Monday morning, I’ll make a call to your editor and let him know we have a deal.”

The final remnants of confusion faded away at his words as you eagerly shook his hand with a broad smile. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” Wanda let them both out as you each leaned against the closest object near you and breathed a sigh of relief. 

After taking a moment to collect, you both wandered over to the couch. You easily wrapped an arm around her. “You know, we are an unusual couple.” Wanda stated.

“Oh, I don’t think that was ever in question.” You replied as the disembodied laughter rang out again. 

Wanda leaned into you, “We don’t have an anniversary… or even wedding rings.”

You rubbed her arm soothingly. “Well, today could be our anniversary.” You offered.

“Of what? Surviving our first dinner party?” She questioned with an amused smile.

You chuckled. “Precisely.” 

“And the wedding rings?” She asked.

“Well, couldn’t you make some for us?” You questioned as you held out a hand, smiling when she mimicked your action. 

With a wave of her finger, beautiful rings appeared on both of your ring fingers. “I do.” You said softly before turning your head to look at her. “Do you?”

“Of course. I do.” Wanda replied tenderly as she intertwined your fingers. The disembodied voices cooed.

“And they lived happily ever after.” 

“And we have a happy ending.” Wanda whispered. A brief flash of something flickered in Wanda’s eyes, but before you could analyze she leaned in and lovingly connected her lips with yours in a sweet kiss. . . . . . . . . As the credits rolled there was a brief moment of silence as everyone stared at the screen. “I told you star-spangled man wouldn’t work. This is the 50s, not the 40s.” Darcy said pointedly.

The sound of a soft thud filled the room from Natasha hitting the back of Steve’s head. “I thought it would be close enough.” Steve grumbled as he rubbed the back of his head.

Fury stared at the screen intensely. “I know that woman, but how did she get there.” He mumbled more to himself than the people in the room. “I think I know someone who we can send in.” He eventually addressed the room.

They all turned to look at him. “Let’s do it. Rogers ideas obviously aren’t working.” Natasha answered as Steve crossed his arms in annoyance.

There it is! Part 1 of the “Love Goes” sequel. This one felt a little constricted by the episode because a lot of it still felt necessary as it introduced the newer characters which is why a lot of dialogue from the first episode was used here. The italicized portion was a memory in case that was a little confusing. Also “Star-Spangled Man” is from the first captain America movie lol. I’m actually kind of excited about this though! As always, let me know your thoughts, they’re always welcome!

P.s. I pictured Emma Watson as Ellie because Emma Watson. :)

[monodipita]

an icy stroll with the cavalry captain

words: 1,600

warning(s): general dark themes ahead, yandere themes

A/N: part 1/?? --do send in requests for content if you have any, my request box is open.

"Disobeying curfew, are we, [Y/N]? Naughty, naughty!"

His snooty, heartless tone produced shivers to roll down your spine. You swallowed thickly and turned your head to view none other than Kaeya, which caused you to freeze in place--to be expected of the cryo user. What a devilishly handsome man!

"How did you know?" You asked. And here you thought you disguised your tracks so well...

"Every night for the past twelve nights, you leave your home and stroll leisurely through this area before you take a right around the shrub and head in that direction. What's it mean to you?" He dodged your question with another one, making you bite the inside of your cheek nervously. "Is it that partner of yours?" He pressed, "not enough time to see them in the day? It must be nice to be with the one you love, it's not something I get to experience often." He chuckled, "lucky you."

"You can relax around me, you know. It's only my duty as a Knight to watch over the citizens of Mondstadt," He purred at you to possibly ease your mind, but you felt uncomfortable with the situation. Kaeya was a shady man, no questions asked. . .who knew what he was thinking at any given time? The only predictable thing about him was his drinking habits.

"I-I should go home." You spoke quietly, barely above the lull of an inside voice. How amusing, given the hurt in your heart. You wanted to see your partner so badly. Tonight was a special night for you both, and you didn't want to miss it for anything in Teyvat.

"Mm, now, where's the fun in that? I'm not opposed to the idea of you meeting up with your partner, if that's what you're thinking," Kaeya responded coolly, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You immediately tensed, causing him to chuckle and lean in close to you. He smelled faintly of alcohol, a scent he could've worn naturally by this point. "If it's because you want to see your beloved, by all means, I wouldn't want to be a buzzkill. I'll keep you company while you walk, aye?"

...could you really say no?

"Sure, I guess," you flash a nervous smile at him. "Ah!" He exclaimed with a grin formed on his handsome lips, "then let's not waste time! I know you want to get to your partner's home."

And so, the two of you shared the cobblestone-paved road while he "escorted" you to your destination. The silence between you created a tension so thick that it could've been pierced with a weapon. In your mind, you were trying to make sense of things, but nothing seemed to come up. Just why would Kaeya be out so late at night? You just couldn't think of anything.

"You know, your partner has a pretty sharp eye in the Knights. How do you feel about them becoming an outrider?" Kaeya casually asked. Again, about your partner. You were beginning to notice a pattern, but to keep up appearances, you played along. "I had a feeling they were going to excel. I'm very proud of them, they're usually way too hard on themselves."

"It's because you were training them, weren't you?"

...

Again on the reminder that you could've gone into the knights yourself. He must've been scarred by that day. "Kaeya," you sighed exasperatedly and eyed him with a vexed expression, "please. I'm not, and won't be ready to enter into the knights. You know this, and yet you still find the heart to guilt trip me every time you bring it up?" You jabbed at him. "Have you any way of considering me at all?"

"I am considering you. By pressuring you, of course. Tough love never hurt anyone. Diluc and I practice that type of behavior all the time." If holding weapons at each other's throats was considered "tough love", then you didn't know what to think. "As long as I can pressure you enough to join the knights, then I know you'll thank me later."

"Why?!" You suddenly snapped, bringing your "leisurely" (if stepping so aggressively you could shake little baby teeny pebbles was leisurely, then sure) pace to a complete stop. You turned to face him and glared into his one, piercing azure eye. "I've told you time and time again that I don't want to be in the knights!"

"You don't mean that." Kaeya's eyes hooded, his tone eerily casual. "You wouldn't possibly spend out on spending time with some of the best-skilled people in Mondstadt, would you? I don't think you've even considered the opportunity that's been given to you. Constantly, mind you. I've practically gifted it to you on a silver platter. Are you proud that your...partner..." he seemed to hold back from saying anything rude, "has assumed your position?"

"..." you glared at him.

"Because I'm not," he purred. Even when things were so heated, he didn't even seem to break a sweat. He gently gripped your chin with minimal resistance on your end, and his chilled fingers braced your throat. Your body tensed, while your eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing?"

"It should've been you as my partner, not them. They're nowhere near you, who you are, and what you could be. In fact, your partner is holding you back. I don't think we have to see eye-to-eye to see such an obvious fact, yes?" Kaeya's voice dropped lower, to that of a mumble. "If only you accepted just how skilled you are, then we wouldn't be in this situation. I wouldn't have to see them every day, I could see you instead. I could be--" he stopped, while you remained silent. The duality of him saying 'partner' started to really fuck with your head. The air was so thin, coupled with no one being around to see or hear what was going on, that he was even able to get away with this.

"But alas, you want to continue wasting your breath on an unfortunate human being. I'm certainly not the one to meddle in other people's business, so I'll escort you to your partner's home, and I'll be well on my way..." He trailed off then, putting a pause in his unsettling dialogue. You furrowed your brows as he dropped his hold on your chin, releasing it from the icy grip he maintained on it. How utterly terrifying.

"...I don't want to walk with you anymore." It was all you could muster. Your lip trembled, possibly from a mix of the encroaching cold, Kaeya's words, and a blend of anger and fear. "I want you to get away from me."

"Let's relax," Kaeya hummed as he draped his hands over your shoulders. He turned you into the direction of your partner's home and gave you the gentle push to resume walking. "I'm harmless. Please? Just this one night. I can take you there, and we don't have to say a single word to anyone. We'll just keep my drunken ramblings between us, yes?" He drank so much that his breath permeated alcohol, no matter what time of the day. You must've gotten used to smelling it on him.

And foolishly, you believed his words. You took a deep breath and channeled your anger into a deep exhale, which expelled some of the negative feeling out of your body. He wanted to remain friendly, right? That was totally fine. Sure. Friendly.

As the two of you continued on your venture, the setting of Mondstadt began to rapidly change. The two of you ventured away from the live atmosphere that carried on, even this late at night, despite the curfew arranged for this city of freedom. These homes and buildings that surrounded you weren't lit up at all, and to tell the truth, it didn't seem like anyone was in them. The post lamps served as the only light to guide your way through the wide streets. It was very creepy...

But as you realized that you'd been walking for far too long to have reached your partner's home, your footsteps came to a stop. This was their street, right? "Why... why did we walk all the way out here? Kaeya, where the hell did you take me?" You worriedly looked over at Kaeya, but noticed that he was missing.

"The only way I could make you mine was if I isolated you, of course. I was so moved by your performance that I felt the need to act. I feel bad for lying to you, but not enough to apologize." Kaeya hovered over your half-conscious body. "I've waited far too long for this opportunity. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Someone in their right mind would've stopped... no, someone in their right mind wouldn't have even done what I've done in the first place, but I'm a patient man, and I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want done."

"What... what do... you..." You couldn't even speak, he must've hit you too hard. Oops.

"What do I want? I want you, silly. I wouldn't go through all this trouble if I didn't. You're so special to me that I'd resort to committing unspeakable acts,"

He lifted your half-conscious body up into his arms. "I'm so excited! I've been waiting for this opportunity ever since you got with your partner! And now I can have you to myself. Don't ever question my method of doing things; just know that I get them done." His voice carried into the air.

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 17

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Peter, grasping for straws to remain 'The Prank Master,' thinks he's found a way to annoy you into conceding. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to him, what he's found is something much worse.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Content Warning for descriptions/mentions of PTSD and flashbacks. Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 34 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 6,761

Red covered your mouth and nose, all over your hand, and a bit on your sheets. You blearily tried to gather your senses, tried to open your eyes against the unforgiving light that blinded you.

Peter stood over you, laughing. Telling you that you got what was coming to you as you groaned.

That fecker had put ketchup in your hand while you slept and then tickled your nose with one of the fuzzy-tipped novelty pens on your desk. The dickhead.

"Ugh! Gross! Dude!?" you complain, sitting up and reaching over to grab the tissues off your desk so you could clean yourself up.

"Serves you right for what you did to me!" Peter countered, gesturing to the blue staining his body. He began to walk out of your room, making sure to let you know that you shouldn't expect the two of you were even.

You roll your eyes and continue wiping the ketchup-y mess off of you. You glance down at your sheets and realized you'd need to wash them today too. Great. Guess this is what you got for sleeping-in.

Once you had finally cleaned yourself up you gathered your sheets to take them downstairs to wash them, but not before making a pit-stop to Peter's room. Wanting to make the trip quick you grabbed the first thing you could find- his comb- and pocketed it. It was about to have a date with some jelly.

As you turned to leave his room you saw Rocket standing in the hall just outside the door.

With a knowing grin he asked, "Whatcha doin' there?"

"Nothing," you answer flatly, gathering your sheets back up.

He let you pass but said, "So I guess I didn't just see you steal Quill's comb, then?" There was amusement in his voice.

"He'll get it back," you answer, not pausing in your walk towards the stairs.

"What do you plan on doing to it?" he asked, intrigued. He had no intents to squeal on you. This prank-y-ness was a side of you he had been pleasantly surprised to see. Much better the the stiff agent-type you usually liked to display. Had he maybe misjudged you?

"The less you know the better," you answered, continuing down the stairs.

No witnesses. Rocket liked your style. Maybe you didn't have such a stick up your butt after all.

***

You threw your sheets in the washer and put the kettle on. It was time to make some jelly.

While waiting for the kettle you grabbed the packet of jelly from the pantry and something quick for breakfast. Deciding on a granola bar, you go to pull one from the box when you also notice that all your spices had been flipped upside down. Obviously Peter's doing. That's also when you remember that you had hidden the rest of the food dye behind the spices, prompting you to give a quick peek to see that the box was still there.

It wasn't.

Peter must have found it while setting up his prank and took them, intent on making the two of you "even."

Crap.

The kettle began to whistle and you pulled yourself out of your thoughts of doom to start fixing the jelly. You could think about the dye later. Right now you had mischief to make.

You mix up the jelly in a glass bowl, adding in an extra packet of gelatin to make sure the shape would hold later. Then, looking around to make sure no one was around, you take Peter's comb out of your pocket and drop it in. The bowl was just big enough for the comb to catch on the sides roughly about halfway deep in the jelly water, so that when you turned it out it would be nicely suspended in the green jelly. You then quickly take the bowl to the fridge to set, burying it in the back on the bottom shelf so it hopefully wouldn't be seen.

Then you simply went about your day as normal.

***

Other than several bad puns, Peter surprisingly didn't attempt much to annoy you that day, and you had no doubts that it was because he was confident that he'd be able to return the favor in dyeing you an odd color when you showered tonight.

Not if you had anything to say about it.

Too bad for him he had no way to know that you knew, and you were confident that you could deal with it when that time came if you paid enough attention. For now you were just going to act none-the-wiser, and accept his invitation to watch a show with the others.

You settled in on the couch and the episode starts. It's a title you haven't heard of before.

Watching it you gathered it was a type of mystery/detective/thriller type that was somehow also a comedy. A detective was accused of killing this old lady, and he was on the run to try and prove his innocence. Lots of action, a bunch of red-herrings, overall not a bad show so far if you had to judge by this episode.

Then there was the end-scene.

The detective finally found the actual murderer, the mayor, and after tricking him into broadcasting his confession over the radio in this abandoned radio station- where he somehow had managed to make a broadcast work- the two fight. Only the mayor has a gun, and the detective's fell into a storm drain two scenes ago.

Through his cunning the detective manages to escape alive, but not unharmed. He's got a compound fracture to his leg. Cops are on the scene and arresting the mayor after surrounding him at gunpoint, and ambulances can be heard in the background.

You feel the hair on your arms stand up.

The sound of the sirens just keeps getting louder.

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

They get louder. You look away from the screen into your lap.

All you can hear now is sirens. You don't realize they've already stopped on the screen. There's now instead dialogue, a conversation between characters, but you are unaware of it.

Your hands clench into fists, nails digging into your palms. You fight the images in your head. You don't want to see them. You hear sounds of tearing metal. Sirens. Screaming. Beeping. Your breathing gets shallow and you work to keep it quiet. You had to fight it back. Sirens. Bright lights. Glass shattering. Screaming. Sirens. You keep saying to yourself inside your mind that it's ok. You're ok. But what about-

Kraglin makes a comment to Yondu about something said on screen. You don't hear him. You only hear the sirens. God, why won't they stop? Screeching. Sirens. Blinding lights. Sirens.

Yondu turns to reply to Kraglin, but sees you looking strange. He raises an eyebrow, which Kraglin notices. He follows Yondu's gaze and sees you staring into your lap, body rigid, hands balled tightly into fists. Your eyes are wide, but unseeing. Your jaw is set.

Before either of them can say a word the buzzer on the washer goes off and you seem to jolt out of it, quickly hopping up and making your way out of the room.

Yondu and Kraglin share a look. What was that about?

***

You didn't return for another episode. Instead, you decided it was a nice enough day to hang your washing on the line. It hardly took you any time at all to finish, but you decide to stay outside for a bit anyways. Fresh air and all that.

Everything was fine. You were ok.

When you finally come back in it's well after a suitable lunchtime, and realizing that the only thing you had today was a granola bar, you decide to cut up an apple and sit at the table, scrolling on your phone as you eat.

Yondu comes into the kitchen for a drink and joins you at the table. "Where'd you go runnin' off to?" he asks, "Decide you didn't like the show?" What he really wanted to ask was what had prompted that look in your eyes earlier, but he knew better than to just come out an ask. You'd just deny anything had happened.

"Had laundry to dry," you answer, not looking up from your phone.

"Ya were gone an awful long time for laundry." Yondu said, not missing that you completely ignored his question about the show. But the question still bugged him. He recognized the look in your eyes back then. He remembered sometimes catching it in the eyes of some of the older battle slaves in the barracks when he was younger. It was the look one had when they were flashing back to something horrific they had been through. He and the other younger battle slaves were always told by other elders to leave those be when they were "stuck in it", as they would say. Don't disturb them. They'll come out of it. Nothing for it but to let it pass.

That never did sit right with him.

"It's a nice day. Thought I'd enjoy it," you answered.

Yondu hummed shortly. You weren't giving him anything, and he knew you wouldn't.

He decided not to press it for now, but he could tell something had triggered that response from you, he just didn't know what. He suspected it had something to do with whatever it was that you kept locked away inside. He had clues and suspicions as to what, but of course he couldn't be sure, though he was more determined now than he had previously been to figure you out. Only one thing was certain. You had pain inside you. A lot of it. No one should have to go through that alone.

***

Kraglin, unlike Yondu, wasn't nearly as subtle when he saw you next. However, he wouldn't get any further.

"Mind if I help?" he asked, joining you in the garden where you were pulling a few weeds.

"Go for it," you reply, barely looking up. There weren't many to pull, as it was starting to get cooler lately. You mostly just came out for something to do. Soon it'd be time to harvest the whole garden.

The two of you work in silence for a bit. Then, Kraglin asks, "So, um, was you alright earlier? I mean, saw that ya looked mighty shaken when we was watching that show."

"Don't know what you're talking about," you answer, standing up and tossing the weeds you picked over to the compost bucket.

Kraglin looked up to meet your gaze, frowning. He was about to say something along the lines that you were full of shit, but he stopped himself when he saw your stern expression. You weren't just denying it. With just those few words, combined with the subtly hard look on your face, you were outright telling him that he didn't see whatever it was that he thought he saw.

He exhaled out his nose and just gave you a look that said that he didn't believe you, but he wouldn't push it. He could see that you would just shut him out, and he felt like it wasn't his place to press it.

Suddenly a gunshot rang out, breaking the awkward silence and causing you both to jump.

You sigh, not appreciating the jolt, and said, "Damn hunters."

Kraglin nodded and tried to take this distraction as an opportunity to change the subject. If you wouldn't open up, maybe he could try and make you smile instead. "So... nice job on dyeing Pete blue last night. Real funny."

"I certainly thought so," you said.

He almost thought he saw you crack a smile. Wanting to bring about a full grin he decided to tell a story. "Yeah, it was just like this time Pete rigged a dye pack up in one of Yondu's drawers, I think he mentioned it last night. Anyway, so somehow Pete rigs it up, I think he got mad at Cap'n for making him scrub the grease traps or somethin', but anyway then Yondu goes to open his drawer one mornin,' yeah? And he's blasted in the face with this red dye. Ohhh boy! He was madder than a muzzled Flerken!!"

The mental image was enough to make your lips curl up involuntarily.

Kraglin noted this and continued, "What's worse is he had to meet with some lady client the next day about a job, and he couldn't get it off. He was this funny shade of purple for over a week!"

A short laugh suddenly breaks through your throat and you look at him. "Really?" you ask, mirth in your eyes. The mental image of the blue man looking quite cross and splattered purple while trying to commit space pirate business dealings was a humorous one.

"Yeah. He grounded Pete for so long after that." Kraglin replied, chuckling.

"I'll bet," you say as you stand up and brush yourself off, now finished with weeding and prepared to go inside. "Thanks. For helping in the garden, I mean." you say.

Kraglin also stands. "Not a problem, ma'am."

You wince and shake you head as you turn back to the house. You thought of telling him to knock it off with the 'ma'am' stuff, but you were concerned with what might replace it. So you left it alone for now.

***

You were on alert when you got ready for your shower that evening. You knew Peter had plenty of opportunity to have tampered with your bath products, but you played it cool. Acted unaware.

The plan? Beat him at his own game.

First you turned on the shower and let it run. You cupped your hands beneath the stream to make sure the water wasn't an odd color.

All clear.

You get into the shower, deciding to inspect your shampoo and conditioner bottles first. You felt it was unlikely he'd put it in those, as it would be unlikely to have a decent enough payoff for him, but you still checked just in case. Your shampoo bottle was see-through and the liquid inside clear, so it was obvious it had gone untampered. You went ahead and used it.

Time for conditioner. Unscrewing the top you look inside the conditioner. Completely white. Untampered. Good.

Finally you checked your body wash. It was a rose scented type and was already colored pink. If he was was going to strike anywhere, it would likely be there with the red dye. You squirted a little into a rag to test it on your hip, an inconspicuous area. You didn't even need to use it before you realized you were right. The body wash came out much darker than usual. It was like he hadn't even mixed it. Actually, that's likely exactly what he did. He probably wanted to make sure as much dye got on you as possible and so just squirted it right on top. Just out of curiosity, however, you still tested it.

Yep. It left a red steak right on your hip. You catch a glance at Peter's bottle on the shower shelf, and grin.

Silly Peter. He shouldn't have forgotten his bottle in the shower. Again.

You reach out of the shower for a new washcloth, and use some of his body wash instead. Of course, not before testing it on the first rag to make sure it wasn't left behind on purpose as a trap. It wasn't. The test proved it free of dye and safe to use.

For now.

Once you finished washing you then unscrewed the top off of Peter's bottle and carefully poured in as much of the dye from the top of your tampered bottle as you could without getting it on your hands. You had to sacrifice a little of the soap down the drain just to make sure it would come out clean the next time you used it.

Was he sure to notice? Probably, but you didn't care. You'd be just as happy with the message it would deliver if nothing else.

He was going to see that you were the Prank Master here.

***

Once finished with your shower you retreated to your bedroom. On the way you could hear Peter in his room asking Gamora if she had seen his comb, and you grinned. You sure knew where his comb was.

Mantis is gathering her own stuff together to take a shower when you enter the room. You glance at what she's carrying to make sure she has enough soap. God forbid she might run out and then use Peter's instead of yours. You actually would feel bad if the prank accidentally hit her instead of Peter. Satisfied that she does you shut your door behind her and wait, unable to keep a grin from splitting your face.

Perhaps half an hour later, a good bit after Mantis had returned from her shower, you can hear Peter shouting.

"Are you KIDDING me!?"

Mantis looks towards the sound in shock before turning to see you covering your giggles with your hand.

Now you can hear Peter cursing your name.

"What did you do?" Mantis asks, both intrigued and alarmed.

"He tried to get me back for turning him blue by putting red dye in my soap. I found out and turned it back on him," you answered, nearly stuttering over your giggles.

"How?"

"I just poured the tainted soap into his bottle. Now he'll have been dyed twice." You grinned, but it fell shortly when you heard the bathroom door slam open and heard his footsteps coming in the direction of your room. You jumped up and quickly flicked the lock just before he reached the door.

The knob jiggled and then he started to pound on the door, cursing your name and demanding you come out.

Feeling cheeky, you answered, "Nobody's home!"

From the other side Peter said loudly, "Come out here, you coward!"

"Do you need something?" you ask, your grin wide.

"You. Out here. Now."

"Whatever for?" You're have a real hard time biting back your laughter. Mantis is sitting on her bed, hugging her bear and openly giggling.

"You know exactly what for!"

You look to Mantis. "Should I?" you chuckle.

"YES! You should!" answered Peter from the other side of the door.

"Didn't ask you!" you retort. You look back to Mantis and she nods excitedly. She wanted to see what had happened to Peter.

"Alright," you answer, loud enough for Peter to hear as well. You unlock the door and slowly open it.

You tried to hold it in. Honestly, you did. But the sight of Peter standing there in his pajama bottoms, and now purple where he had previously been blue, and a pinkish-red just about everywhere else you could see, you lost it.

Your laughter, combined with seeing that you didn't have a spec of dye on you, made Peter cry out in frustration. "HOW?!"

"It-It's your fault," you laughed. "You left a trail!"

Peter narrowed his eyes. "I did not leave a trail!"

"You did! I-I saw you had taken the rest of the dye and I knew what you'd do with it. Dude, you- you really should have left the box behind. I might not have noticed then." It was all you could do to say the sentence coherently as you tried to hold back your giggles. "How did you not notice I turned it around and poured it back in your bottle? Don't you look??"

As Peter sputtered indignantly for a reply you noticed that you again had an audience. Yondu and Kraglin stood at the bottom of the stairs, grinning up at the scene and shaking their heads. Rocket and Drax were standing by their room, Drax chuckling with a giggling Groot on his shoulder and Rocket almost looking impressed. Almost. Gamora was standing across the landing, shaking her head, though it appeared more out of second-hand embarrassment for Peter rather than disdain for you.

"Don't I- You- I'm- UGH!" Peter sputtered in frustration. He had half a mind to tickle you until you peed your pants for this- Well, not literally, though he wouldn't be above threatening it. He may be an asshole, but he wasn't 100% a dick. Regardless, the other half of his brain was too busy trying to think of any suitable comeback... and failing. He was The Prank Master! How were you beating him at his game? He glared at you. He wanted to wipe that smirk off your face. "You think you're so funny, don't you?! Just wait. You better watch your back. I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"You're not going to do anything, Peter." It was Gamora who spoke now, her tone teetering somewhere between warning and exhaustion, with a hint of amusement buried somewhere in there. "She beat you at your own game. Go to bed."

You couldn't stop the grin that split your face if your life depended on it. You took a calculated step back, hand resting on your door. You put on your most innocent voice. "So..." you started. "Does this mean I'm The Prank Master, now?"

The look in Peter's eyes could have vaporized you. "That's it!" he cried, stepping towards you. He wasn't sure what he'd do when he got hold of you. Hold you in a headlock until you apologized? Wet Willie? Both? Neither? Didn't matter. All he knew was you were going to pay for this.

However, he'd never get the chance. You were too fast, slamming the door in his face and flicking the lock just before he could get near.

You and Mantis doubled over laughing and Peter sputtered some more empty threats before Gamora could be heard scolding him and telling him to go to bed.

It was even better the second time.

***

The next morning you were, dare you say, cheerful.

Peter, less so. He was still a bit cranky that not only had he been the victim of the dye prank twice, just one night after the first, but that it had happened because he tried to get you back and you turned the tables on him. Sure, he had cooled down a bit from last night, but he was still an uneven purple/pinkish-red mess and the others kept snickering at him. Even Gamora had been caught hiding a grin behind her hand a couple of times.

It wasn't fair. He was determined to get you back, but how would-

He spotted something on the kitchen table, interrupting his thoughts. Something shiny, and green, and was that...?

Oh you were going to get it.

***

You were minding your own business, walking over to one of the bookcases in the sitting room, when suddenly you were accosted.

Peter had pulled you into a headlock from behind.

"Hey! What the hell! Let me go!" you demanded.

"Tell me you're sorry and I'll think about it!"

You had a feeling what this was about, but you played dumb. "I'm not going to apologize for turning the tables back around on you! It was your own fault for trying."

"That's not what I mean and you know it!"

You started softly laughing despite the moderate chokehold. You couldn't help it. "Did you- Did you ever find your comb?"

Suddenly you feel something wet in your ear. You knew there was only one thing it could be. "Ew! No! Peter!" you squeal, trying to squirm away. "That's disgusting! Stop it!"

Peter was chuckling now, still giving you a wet willie. "Say you're sorry!"

You jerk against him. "Never!" You were laughing despite really only having one hand to fight him with. The limited range on your brace made it so you couldn't bend your elbow enough to grab his arm with that hand, and you were standing too close to the bookcase to throw him over you and get out of the headlock. Well, too close to do it without hurting him, or your books, that is. You were stuck, but you still weren't going to give in.

Turns out you wouldn't need to.

"Alright. Break it up," came Yondu's voice from somewhere off to the side. "What's going on here?"

Peter released you and you rubbed your ear against your shoulder to get the wet feeling out of it. "She put my stuff in Jello!" he complained.

Yondu gave you a weird, albeit amused look. "Don't ya think ya did enough to him already, missy?" He wasn't scolding you, but he actually was surprised you were still on the attack after having seemingly won the war last night.

Fighting a grin you reply, "In my defense, I'd already done that before the dye thing. I only found out he was planning that afterwards," Technically not the full truth- you actually found out during the setup of the jelly prank, not after, but it was close enough, "and what was I supposed to do, not turn the tables back on him when I found out?"

Peter punches you in the shoulder, but there was no anger behind it, just cheekiness. You stick your tongue out at like a child in retaliation.

Yondu grinned and shook his head. It'd been awhile since he'd seen his boy carefree and goofing off like this, even if he was bickering with you like the two of you were kids. Still, he should maybe try to persuade a stop to the prank war again before things escalated any more and you two killed each other. It'd be a shame to save him from Ego just to let him die in a prank war of all things, and bad form to let him kill their host. "Boy, I think ya might need to accept that she won this round." he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"I will do no such thing! She just got lucky." Peter replied.

You smirked. "Yeah. Sure. 'Lucky'," you taunt. "Just say it and I'll call us even."

"EVEN?!" Peter exclaimed. He gestured to the stained purple and pinkish red of the areas of skin you could see. "Look at me!"

Trying not to smile you slowly look down to the brace on your arm. Head cocked to the side your eyes look back to Peter. "You were saying?"

Peter bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. You could tell he wanted to retort with something, but he knew he had no leg to stand on. Eventually he settled for, "I'm still not saying it."

Yondu snorted a laugh. "Whatever it is, just be a man and say it, boy. Quit while yer ahead."

Peter looked at him indignantly. "I am not going to declare her The Prank Master."

Unable to suppress your grin any longer you nudge him in the shoulder and say in your sweetest voice, "It's ok, you don't have to say it," taking a few steps away you add, "We already know." You then jogged out of the way when he made a grab for you.

You made your way out the front door, but he didn't follow, instead just stood there pouting.

"Ya finally gonna give it up, boy? Take yer loss like a man?" Yondu chuckled, teasingly.

"Never." Peter responded, too busy plotting revenge to fully catch the "take it like a man" part as he walked out of the room.

Yondu chuckled and rolled his eyes as he went to take a seat on the sofa. It was nice to see that you had a goofy side, though he wondered if it was Peter rubbing off on you, or if you had just had it buried under layers of stubbornness and sass.

Either way, it seemed certain that the boy was gonna have to relinquish his self-proclaimed title of "The Prank Master."

***

Over the next couple days the pranks between you and Peter had slowed down. This was likely in part because of how you made Peter realize that he couldn't complain too much about getting even for the dye prank if he considered that you were still in a brace as a result from one of his previous pranks gone wrong, but also in part because the two of you had pulled so many pranks so far you were seemingly running out of ideas.

Peter moved the furniture in your sitting room 3 inches to the left, likely to get your back for putting his comb in jelly.

You retaliated by setting up some cling film up at head height in the kitchen doorway for him to walk into and then calling him into the kitchen.

He got back at you by swapping your salt and sugar out, thereby ruining what would have been a perfectly good cup of tea.

For this high crime, you decided to get him back by scrapping out a couple Oreos and filling them with toothpaste. He was most definitely not fond of that one. Called it a crime against nature, and he may have been right, but so was what he had done to your tea.

Other than that, nothing really escalated, well apart from the oreos and tea, that is. The two of you kept making little jabs at each other and annoying one another. Really bad puns, petty insults, that sort of thing.

You did assume, however, that Peter was just biding his time, trying to think of something big that he could spring on you that might make you give up the game and declare him The Prank Master, because gods knew he wasn't going to concede.

And you'd be right.

Peter spent a decent amount of time brainstorming ideas for a really good prank, or even just a decent way to annoy you, in between all the smaller ones, but he was coming up with nothing he deemed quite good enough.

He was about to consider throwing in the towel when you inadvertently provided him with the fodder he needed.

***

It was the fourth day since the first dye prank and most of the dye on Peter had worn off by now.

You were reading on the couch, little Groot was playing with the TV and flipping through random videos on the YouTube app with Drax, and Peter and Kraglin were in the middle of a card game at the table on the other side of the room.

In what you would chalk up to a cruel twist of fate, Groot managed to find his way into a video of ambulance calls.

Rudely and immediately torn from your book by the sound, your hand shoots out for the TV remote and you mute the TV, much to the dismay of little Groot, who had found the noise fun and had been cheering the siren on. As calmly as you can despite your rapid heartbeat, you ask Drax, who was confused by your behavior, to please tell Groot to find something else to watch.

Drax looks at you strangely, but translates for Groot anyway, which again, only sounded to you like he was repeating your words verbatim due to his translator. You still didn't know that the translators didn't actually translate into Groot, but rather Groot had just picked up and could understand a bit of Galactic Standard, even if he couldn't speak it.

Groots looks slightly disappointed for a second but agrees and switches videos and you unmute the TV.

You didn't bother checking what new video he had chosen. That had been a mistake.

After the ad finished playing you were jerked back into reality from your book by the sounds of now multiple ambulance calls going at once. You mute the TV once again and say, "I'm sorry. I should have been more clear. Anything else. Anything else except for videos of that sound."

Drax, rightfully confused, asks, "Why?"

"I do not like it." is all you offer, and you don't elaborate when asked.

Peter, of course, overhears all this, and thinks he's found his new way to annoy you. He of course had no way of knowing the reason you couldn't bare the sound wasn't due to annoyance. He had no way of knowing its effect on you.

***

He tested the waters the next day after lunch.

You were washing up the dishes with Gamora when the sound of an ambulance siren makes you freeze in the middle of drying a bowl.

Gamora turns her head towards the noise and wonders aloud what it was.

Without answering you take towards the direction of the sitting room to, gently, scold Groot for playing those videos again.

Of course, when you get there, you only see Peter, who pretended to be surprised to see you.

"Turn that off," you say sharply.

"What?" Peter asked innocently.

You didn't ask him again. You just grabbed the control and exited the video before throwing the control back down into his lap. "Don't play that again," you warn.

"Why? Does it annoy you?" Peter asked with a smirk. He didn't notice your hands shaking.

Your eyes hardened. "Just don't," you say, returning to the kitchen.

Peter grinned. He was going to have fun with this.

***

Peter would play that sound three more times that afternoon, each time eliciting a more irritated response from you until you finally ripped the plug to the TV out of the wall and turn to him to angrily yell, "Stop it!"

"What?" Peter asked, chuckling in surprise at your latest response. You must really hate that noise.

"You know exactly what. I'm seriously, genuinely asking you to knock it off," you reply.

Gamora, who could tell Peter was working your last nerve and who was also becoming irritated by the repeated playing of the sirens, nudged Peter and told him he had his fun.

Peter half smirked and seemed to relent, saying simply, "Okay."

You sigh. "Thank yo-"

"After you declare me The Prank Master."

Gamora rolled her eyes and propped her head up on the hand resting on the arm of the couch, not wanting to get involved, but inches from yelling at her boyfriend that she was ending the prank war herself.

You were seething. "You're a goddamn child!" you scold, leaving the sitting room and considering getting out some of the vodka you had in the freezer just to calm your nerves.

You had only just made it into the kitchen when the sound started up again.

You back against the wall and cover your face, inches from tears. Your breaths came in shallow gasps as flashes of bright lights and the sounds of tearing metal and screaming fill your senses. You tangle your hands in your hair.

"FUCKING STOP IT!" you scream.

Peter and the others in the sitting room, as well as those upstairs, all paused in shock at the sheer volume behind your scream.

They then heard the sound of the back door slamming forcefully.

Yondu, who had been at the table playing cards with Kraglin, had only been present for the second and last incidence of Peter annoying you with the sound, and it wasn't until now that he put the pieces together. That day when you acted strange and walked out on the show- this siren sound had been playing then too.

Shit.

He got up and scolded Peter, who in his shock still hadn't turned the video back off. "Turn that shit off now, boy! If I hear it again I'm gonna shove my arrow up your ass! You hear me?"

Peter, recognizing the tone in Yondu's voice as one that he had encountered many times as a child when he was in trouble, immediately switched the video off. He had to concede that perhaps he went a little too far this time, but of course he didn't actually understand just how true that sentiment was.

Yondu went to go see where you went, and he didn't need to look very far, which surprised him. He was for sure you would have taken off for the forest again, since it was kinda your thing.

Instead, you were sat with your back pressed against the stone of the house about a couple meters from the door, hand clamped over your mouth and eyes in that terrible 'wide yet unseeing' way. In the dim light provided by what shone out the kitchen windows from inside he thought he could almost see the remnants of fallen tears.

He tried to approach you slowly, but you caught him out the corner of your eye and jerked to a standing position.

"Hey, hey-" Yondu said, holding his hands up. "It's alright-" he started, but then found he didn't know what else to say. After a moment he settled on, "Ya wanna talk about what that was about?"

You don't meet his gaze. "Nothing. He just pisses me off. He's a damn child."

"While that may be true, yer still full of shit."

You glare at him.

He continues. "If this was just about Quill gettin' under yer skin ya wouldn't be shakin' like that, and I doubt you'd be crying neither."

"Am not," you mutter. You turn away, wipe your eyes, cross your arms self-consciously, and start walking away. "It's cold."

Yondu rolled his eyes. It was cool out, yes, but it wasn't that cold. "Ya wanna talk about why ya dislike the particular noise so much?" Yondu called after you. "Ya ain't got to, but I can tell somethin's eating ya. I might help to get it off your chest."

"It's nothing." you reply. "Just an annoying sound."

Yondu frowned. "Now listen here. I ain't gonna force ya to tell me, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone just flat out lie to my face, missy."

You turn to him, indignant. "I'm not-"

"Hell if ya ain't. I've seen that look before, I know what it is. Ya can lie to yerself, but ya can't lie to me!"

You glare at him. "Who the hell do you think you are? Coming in here acting like you know anything about me!"

"I'm the person telling ya that it ain't healthy to keep that shit bottled up inside ya. It'll eat ya alive."

You don't respond. Just roll your eyes and start walking away again.

Yondu threw up his hands. "To hell with you then!" He starts to walk back inside but stops at the door to speak again, this time his tone a little softer, "I have a feelin' no one's ever told ya, girl, but ya don't have to 'be strong' all the time. Sometimes it's ok to let people in. It don't make ya weak." With that he headed back in the house.

You lean your back against the cool stone and sigh in frustration. What did he know.

***

You head back inside a bit later, not feeling much better.

Peter catches you as you're about to head up the stairs. "Hey, I just wanted to say sorry for-"

"Don't." You cut him off, not stoping in your path. "I don't care. I'm going to bed."

Peter frowns, but lets you go. Maybe he could try again in the morning. He truly was sorry. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun.

***

You stared up at the ceiling from your bed for what felt like hours. You couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about it. You knew Peter had no way of knowing why you couldn't stand that sound, but you still couldn't help but be unhappy with him. He just wouldn't stop.

You can feel your jaw clenching with each flash of horrific memory.

You were annoyed at Yondu too. Acting like he knew anything about you or some shit. What did he know? Not you, that's what. You didn't need someone acting like they cared. You didn't need anyone, really. People come, people go. No one stays forever.

You feel your chest clench. Your throat tightens and you sit up. You didn't want to cry.

A walk. That's what you needed. A walk in the forest would surely help wash the memories away. You could walk until you were too tired to think about it, then sleep it off. It would be better in the morning. You'd be ok.

You quietly slip on some jeans and make your way downstairs to put on your boots and grab a jacket. Choosing your thin leather one because it had been chilly when you were out earlier, you open the back door and head out into the cool night air.

You'd find out soon enough that you should have stayed in bed.

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

My Heart Is With You Two

Request: Do you think you could do one with an older reader, like 17 or 16, where they have a nightmare and Din comforts them afterwards? maybe like a hunt gone wrong? Like Din dies in the nightmare or something bad happens to him and Grogu?

Summary: Din comforts the reader after they have a nightmare about a hunt going wrong. 

Pairing: Dad! Din Djarin x teen! Gender neutral reader

Warnings: non descriptive mention of wounds and picking of skin. Nothing too descriptive, but still in there :)

Word Count: 1,692

Rating: G

A/N: I had a really fun time writing this, I wanted to try and write this in more of Din’s point of view and explore his thoughts as he navigated through parenting. I hope that was okay! And I really hope you like it!! Sorry if the dialogue is kinda meh, I don’t know how adults talk lmao. Din let alone rarely says a word unless you talk to him lmao. Hopefully I did ok. Please let me know what you guys think <3

--------

Din sat across from Y/N. The pair sat on the walking ramp of the Razor Crest, taking a brief moment to enjoy the natural habitat of the planet they were currently on. It had been a long day for Din. Bounty hunting was dangerous, sure, but as he played with the bandages wrapped around his knee Din couldn’t help but reminisce the particularly difficult parts of his day. It seemed that other bounty hunters caught of the valuable bounty he was pursuing, so while he was trying to get a hold of the Geonosian he also had to fight off more than he could chew. Y/N threw a fit when he stumbled to the ship bloodied, in need of medicinals and rest. It took him promising that he’d take a day off for them to feel better about his condition.

Din sighed and lifted his helmet a little to take another sip of broth. Hm, it was starting to get cold. 

“Suns are going down.” 

Din hummed. “Seems like it. We’ll need to head inside in a moment.”

Y/N nodded, standing up and dusting their pants. They let her hand out toward Din and collected the bowl from his hand before heading inside. 

Din watched them leave before turning back to take one last look of the view. The forest was a plethora of greens and little critters running about. On his way into the nearest town Din considered taking the next day off so that his foundlings could go out to enjoy the scenery, maybe even swim in a lake he’d passed not too far away. Grogu would have had a field day, terrorizing small critters by chasing them around the grass.

The Mandalorian frowned at the involuntary wince his body experienced. He placed a hand on his knee and tenderly touched the muscle that ached. This was why he knew the kids can’t have a day off tomorrow. Not on this planet, at least. It was too risky. If Din learned anything today it was that the planet was crawling with dangerous beings. Some who may want to seek revenge for the people he’d killed today while on the job. 

He was too deep in thought to realize that Y/N had been watching him. They stood silently against the wall, focusing on the way he held himself. Injured leg raised a little, hands gentle to the touch, rigid movements. He was in pain and didn’t want to show it. But this was all a part of the job. They shuffled in their spot, floorboard creaking underneath them. 

“Y/N, you should go to bed.” 

They shifted their weight, “Are you not coming in?”

“In a moment... I’d like to enjoy the view a little more.”

A lie. He needed another moment to rest, to avoid putting any strain on his leg. One could argue that this behavior of defiance toward his injury was out of pride, but in reality Din didn’t want to worry Y/N. They were 17, sure, they could handle seeing their guardian like this. But he’d rather not let them know about the reality of his state. Besides, another’s day’s rest and he’ll be fine. 

He waited, and didn’t hear Y/N move.

“You should go to bed.” His voice made this sound more like an order rather than a statement. 

Y/N said a quite goodnight and left. Din turned back to the view. He waited until the sky began to turn purple to stand up and launch the ship. The Crest was set to autopilot after reaching a suitable cruising altitude. The clan should be at their destination by the time they wake up. Din stumbled out of the cockpit and made his way to the hull, wordlessly removing the heavy beskar and grabbing new bandages. Replacing bandages were harder to do when the wound is still relatively fresh. Hopefully the next time they’ll need changing the task will be easier. Finished, Din stood up from the box he was perched on and made his way to the cot he and Grogu shared.

 Something soft squished underneath his foot. What was that? Din lifted his foot and chuckled softly. He leaned over to pick up a little frog plush. A smile spread across his lips. The plush was a favorite of Grogu’s, as his sibling made it special after their meeting with the frog lady. Now he carries it around everywhere he can. It even went to the school with the children when they were left there during their time in Nevarro. 

Din walked over to where his son was snoring in his hammock. Maybe he was dreaming of frogs. Din liked to think so, smiling and perched the plush next to Grogu for him to find in the morning. 

A small sniffle made its way to the hull of the ship. 

The Mandalorian turned to the closed cot that sat parallel to theirs, tilting his head curiously. He took a step forward and knocked on the metal surface. 

“Y/N? I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“I uh... got woken up when we took off.” Din didn’t miss the way their voice hitched. He waited a couple seconds.

 “Would you open the door please?”

A pause. Then a beep before the cot’s door opened up and Din came to be face to face with a teary-faced foundling. He froze, taken aback by the sight of the tears that raised questions. Are you hurt? What’s bothering you? You’re not alone, I’m here. But he didn’t say any of that. For once he found himself without words as he took in Y/N’s expression. Their skin was paler than normal. Eyes that were swollen and stained red avoided his gaze, downcast as they picked at the skin on their knee. 

Din tilted his head ever so slightly. Were they… anxious? 

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

The teenager in front of him didn’t make a move, beginning to shut down.

“Y/N.” He said once more, catching their attention. 

Din slowly knelt down in front of them and placed a hand on their knee 

“You’re going to have to communicate with me, Y/N. I can’t read minds.” He patted their knee reassuringly. “But...take your time. There’s no rush.”

Y/N blinked several times, rubbing their eyes and making Din realize that they were still crying. The sleeping quarters were slowly filling with quiet, ragged breaths of a foundling trying to control their breathing before it got worse. A hand rubbed slowly against their back, belonging to a patient Mandalorian who’d sat next to them and pulled them close, quietly reassuring them that they were in the ship with their clan and that they were safe, that everything was okay. Din found himself mimicking the way that his guardians had comforted him during his childhood. They were the ones who’d watched over him when his parents were no longer able to. Now, he was relying on their hospitality to care for his own foundling. He’d hoped he was doing it right. Y/N deserved a guardian that would provide for them in all aspects. 

When the hull was quiet again Din dared to speak once more, softly so as to not startle the teen in his arms. “Are you ready to talk now?”

“...yeah.” Y/N sighed, pulling their blanket further around them. 

“I had this… dream. It didn’t feel like a dream. It just, you- something happened when you left for a hunt. Something terrible.” Their breath hitched slightly, making Din frown as they continued. “Grogu and I were at the Crest like we always are when you leave when someone comes to the ship… with you.”

Y/N quickly looked at Din through their peripheral vision, averting their eyes when the two’s gaze locked. 

“Did something happen to me?” Y/N nodded, gulping. They sniffed as they quickly rubbed at their eyes again. Din gently pulled their hand away. “Don’t do that. It’s not good for your eyes.”

“S-sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you with this.”  

Din took a moment to think of his next words and placed a gentle hand on their chin, making them look at him. “You’re not bothering me, Y/N. I don’t want you to have to feel like you need to bottle this up. It’s my job as your guardian to be there for you-- you can come to me for anything. Do you understand?” 

“Mhm,” They sniffed. 

The Mandalorian took a moment to think once more. It became clear to him that Y/N was more than just worried when he returned home bloodied and worn from battle. They were scared. Scared that one day he would never return. It was hard for him to remember that Y/N knew underneath all of that beskar, he wasn’t invincible. 

“Ever since I’ve come of age I’ve never had anyone worry for my death,” he started, catching their attention. “It’s comforting to know that I have two very important people who do, and they wait for me everyday. Right here.” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Y/N chuckled sarcastically. “What if-”

“Let me finish,” Din ruffled their hair, “What I’m saying is that I’ll do everything to go back home to the two of you, my little womp rats. You two motivate me in more ways than you think, little one.”

“Really?” 

“Really. Though I’m not as strong as my beskar, I would fight my way through Chaos if it means coming back to the two of you. Okay?”

“Okay Din. Man, I didn’t know you had such a heart under that armor.” Y/N shoved Din’s shoulder playfully, earning a hearty laugh from the Mandalorian. 

“No, no I don’t.” He shook his head and patted Y/N’s shoulder, beaming proudly at his foundling before averting his eyes to where Grogu was sleeping. Y/N followed his gaze. “It’s out here, with you two.”

[burberryharold]

hey, lovies! i’ve been so excited to post this fic because i am in love with Harry and Jules and i hope you will be too (and excuse the lousy banner i just wanted to have something lol)! this is a part of @1dffchallenges’s valentine’s day challenge, so i hope you enjoy reading it and happy valentine’s day, it’s all about spreading love around so here is some love from me to all of you ❤️

a special thank you to @fireproofrry @bodejacketharry @strawberryystyles​ for beta reading and giving feedback, you are absolute angels <3

word count: 7.7k

warnings: none!

challenge prompt and dialogue: strangers alone on valentine’s day + “I’m allergic to chocolate. And roses.”

It’s official, valentine’s day is the worst.

At least that’s what Jules thought as she adjusted herself on the bar stool, trying to get into a comfortable position while she waited for her drink to be served.

It wasn’t in Jules’ agenda to spend what was supposed to be the most romantic day of the year alone at a bar ten minutes away from her apartment. If she was still with Leon, they would have been having a nice dinner somewhere, laughing over whatever funny story one of them had to share about their day at the company.

But alas, Leon was someone else’s now and Jules was only left with her own company.

Truth be told, though, Jules never minded being alone, in fact, she enjoyed being by herself because people were simply exhausting.

But being alone and being lonely were too completely different things, and Jules hated feeling lonely.

And valentine’s day only made that worse. Seeing loved up couples around her, flashes of red and pink everywhere she glanced, hearing cheesy love songs blasting through the speakers of the shops she passed by. Everything about valentine’s day just seemed to remind her of her lonely status.

Instead of staying at her apartment all night long doing nothing but watching rom coms and feeling sorry for herself, Jules thought of a better alternative, which was to get pissed drunk. So when she got up in the morning to go to work (because even on valentine’s day duty calls), she put on her favourite black dress, one that was sleeveless and had a deep v-neckline, and put on enough makeup to feel confident in the way she looked before pulling on her coat and venturing into the cold streets of London.

If she was going to get pathetically drunk by herself at a bar after work whilst everyone else was being all lovey dovey, then she would look hot doing it.

The sound of a glass coming in contact with the wooden surface broke her out of her reverie and she glanced up, finding that the bartender had placed her drink in front of her and he was beaming at her. “There you go, love, happy valentine’s day.”

After squinting at the name tag (she’s never seen him here before, he must be new), Jules forced herself to return his smile and lifted her glass. “Cheers, Jonah.”

Poor guy must have thought she was waiting for a date or something. Too bad, no one was going to be joining Jules on this fine evening. Just me, myself, and I.

Setting her glass back on the counter after taking a big gulp, Jules scowled as she was reminded of the items she had received earlier in the day. For some reason, Leon thought it was a good idea to give her a box of chocolates and a rose, even though they were no longer together and he had another woman by his side.

She appreciated the thought behind it, he probably just wanted to be nice or maybe he felt guilty, but his gift was staring at her, almost laughing at her misery and she wasn’t having it.

That is why she instantly asked Jonah for a fork, which caused him to send her a confused look but he complied nonetheless, and she proceeded to stab the pieces of chocolate placed perfectly in the box, taking out her frustration on the sweets.

Once satisfied, she dropped the fork with a clunk and heaved out a sigh, lazily resting her chin in her right hand before looking back at Jonah. He was staring at her with wide eyes as he dried off some shot glasses, surely thinking that she was a lunatic, but Jules just flashed him a sweet smile and shifted her eyes back to the chocolates she had just assaulted.

Poor chocolate, but oh well.

“Are you alright there?”

“What the fuc-“ The sudden voice caused her to jump in her seat and she almost fell off the bar stool if it weren’t for the hand that magically materialised behind her, holding her steady.

Before she had a chance to slap the hand off her back, the stranger retracted it and returned to his seat and she had the chance to take a proper look at him.

The man stared back at her with concerned eyes, a stool separating the two of them, but he was still not that far away from her. Jules wondered when he had gotten there because she certainly didn’t feel him arrive. Perhaps it was during her chocolate rampage.

What really surprised her though, more than his sudden appearance, was the fact that she knew who he was. In fact, she believed everyone knew the man sitting beside her because it was none other than Harry Styles.

Many questions ran through Jules’ head, the most important being what on earth was a guy like him doing at this bar on valentine’s day? Jules never believed in the image the media painted of him, but surely he has something better to do than be here, all by himself it seems?

As big of a fan as she was, the fact that he was right before her didn’t faze Jules all that much, her mind was more preoccupied by other matters. So, she ended up doing what she would’ve done if it was any other person: she glared at him and wordlessly turned back in her seat, pretending as if he wasn’t there.

He didn’t seem to take the hint.

“You were quite aggressive with the chocolate there.” His deep voice floated in the empty bar as he pointed at the box in front of her.

Jules inhaled deeply before responding in a flat tone. “I’m allergic to chocolate.” Glaring at the single rose lying beside the box, she grabbed it and tossed it on the floor beneath her, silently cursing Leon once more. “And roses.”

She felt guilty for littering, but she’d pick it up when she leaves. Eventually.

“Are you really?” The man beside her questioned, leaning forward in his seat, his body completely turned towards her at this point. She could tell from her tone that he was skeptical of her supposed allergies and she honestly couldn’t blame him.

“No,” she found herself shaking her head, signalling for Jonah to get her another drink, still keeping her body facing forward and only glancing at him from her peripheral vision, “I’m just fucking with you.”

To her surprise, he let out a small laugh, not seeming to be upset. Jules couldn’t help but turn her head a bit to look at him, finding a dimpled smile on his and she wondered what was wrong with this guy.

“May I ask why you were stabbing the poor sweets then?”

Figuring she should just put him out of his misery and answer his question, Jules huffed and crossed her legs, not missing the way his gaze flickered down for a split second before returning to her face. She ignored it and sighed, “Well if you must know, my ex gave them to me this morning.”

“Trying to get you to take him back?”

“Oh god no,” Jules laughed at the notion, her hand waving off his wrong assumption, “he’s as happy as can be with his new girlfriend.”

The blatant confusion on his face prompted her to provide more explanation.

“We broke up a couple of months ago, he left me for someone else. So he probably just felt guilty.”

“He left you for someone else? And before the holidays?” When she nodded in confirmation, he shook his head with a frown. “Bastard.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Valentine’s day just sucks, it’s just a reminder of how lonely you are,” she muttered with bitterness, “Of how lonely I am.”

“Well if it’s any consolation,” Harry said, pausing to ask the bartender for another drink, “I’m lonely tonight too.”

“Well, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t be here getting drunk on your own.” With a few drinks already in her system, Jules practically had no filter whatsoever (not that she really had one in the first place).

“Touché,” he clicked his tongue, then leaned back to chug down the rest of his glass. Jules was almost concerned by how quickly he downed his drink, but she’s not in a position to talk, after all, she’d been doing the same. “But I’m not getting drunk on my own now, am I? You’re right here.”

She scoffed, eyebrows raising at his words. “Who said I’m keeping you company? Or that I’m not leaving any second now?”

“I don’t think you are.” He responded with much conviction that it almost threw Jules off.

“You think too confidently about a stranger you just met.”

“Let’s fix the strangers part then, shall we? I’m Harry.” He extended his ring-clad hand and Jules noticed a coat of red nail polish on his fingers. How ironic.

She sighed before deciding to entertain him, grabbing a firm hold of his surprisingly warm hand. Maybe she’ll allow him to keep her company tonight. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave her alone anyway.

“Jules.” She simply responded before turning back to her drink, swirling the pink straw around. She made a mental note to thank Jonah later for the cute straw.

“Jules” Harry repeated, as if testing the name on his lips and Jules would be lying if she said that she didn’t like the way it rolled off his tongue. “Is that a nickname for Julie? Julia? Short for Juliann-“

“Juliet. It’s Juliet.” She interrupted his ridiculous ramble. He surely was inquisitive. And did she really look like a Julianne?

“Huh,” he hummed, gliding a finger over the rim of his glass, staying silent for a few seconds and Jules thought he was maybe done for the night.

She thought wrong, it seems.

“Oh, Juliet, oh, Juliet, where art thou, Juliet?” He dramatically recited, voice going deeper as he stared upwards at a spot over the bar. Simply put, Jules thought he looked ridiculous.

She could hear Jonah snickering in the background.

“It’s where art thou, Romeo, but nice try.” She rolled her eyes in response to his theatrics. Almost everyone she’s ever encountered has commented on her name and made a reference to the infamous Shakespearean tragedy that she’s never been too fond of. It’s why she mostly went by Jules.

No one’s ever recited that line though, however wrong it was. That was a first.

“I knew that,” the curly-haired man mumbled beside her, swirling his glass and watching the ice cubes swim around, “was just joking, geez, tough crowd.”

Jules couldn’t help but roll her eyes again in response. That joke got old a long time ago.

She’s beginning to regret coming to this bar tonight. Maybe she should’ve just headed straight home and cuddled into her blankets.

“It’s pretty, though,” he added a few moments later, “beautiful name for a beautiful woman”

No way. She huffed, spinning in her seat to face him once again. “That’s your line? Tell me, Mr. Rockstar, has that really worked on anyone before?”

She could tell he was a bit surprised but tried to hide it; unluckily for him, Jules was a very observant person, hardly anything passed her.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that-“

She interrupted him again and leaned in closer, resting her elbow on the countertop and raised an eyebrow. His eyes flickered for a fleeting second to the charm bracelet adorning her wrist. “So you don’t think my name’s beautiful? Or that I’m beautiful? Sheesh, Harry, you’re not looking good here.”

Harry spluttered, staring at her with eyes blown wide in panic and Jules almost felt bad for messing with him; it was just hard not to, she was lonely and he was right there annoying her with his lousy jokes, so he has the unfortunate fate of being her victim tonight (and truthfully, he brought it on himself). And if she was being honest, messing with Harry Styles was just too entertaining of an opportunity for her to pass on.

To be fair, she was a little annoyed by his presence in the beginning, having originally planned to wallow in her misery all by herself, but now she’s having fun. She might just enjoy her time with him.

“No- no of course I think you’re beautiful, y-your name too,” he responded in clear panic, seemingly trying to figure out how he can redeem himself. Jules’ attention was momentarily caught by the way his rings glimmered under the light as he flexed his fingers, still fumbling for a response. “I was just-“

“Styles,” she interrupted him, yet again, with a light-hearted laugh and shook her head, hair falling forward on her shoulders, “Relax, was just messing with you.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed and he heaved out a sigh of relief; his eyes then narrowed and he lifted his hand, pointer finger wagging in her direction. “You really like messing with people, huh? Not very nice of you.”

“Made you sweat, no? Was just having fun. I can now say that I’ve made the infamous Harry Styles stumble over his words. How much do you think they’ll pay me for that hot gossip? Reckon it would be a lot.” She said as she turned back in her seat, now facing the bar once again, but she knew he caught the smirk on her face and the teasing lilt in her tone.

Coming to the bar was definitely a good decision.

Harry felt like a proper idiot.

Here he was, sitting at a pub with a lovely woman that clearly didn’t want to be bothered, yet he had to fuck things up and be a git.

And the Juliet bit? Harry had never been more embarrassed, he didn’t know what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. He made sure to remind himself that he wasn’t that funny and should just stop trying to be. You’re making a fucking fool of yourself.

In spite of his rather embarrassing advances, Harry found himself enjoying Jules’ company immensely, even if she had barely looked his way when he had arrived at his spot.

She might’ve looked irritated by his insistent attempts to start a conversation with her in the beginning, but from the way her body has been facing him for the past half an hour and the smile or two she’d thrown his way, Harry had a feeling she was warming up to him.

He discovered that she was an accountant, which thoroughly surprised him because she didn’t seem like one. Harry doesn’t like to judge a book by its cover, but Jules definitely didn’t scream accountant, more like a Greek goddess or something. Her black dress hugged her body in a way that almost made Harry dizzy; he had noticed her the second he walked into the nearly empty pub – and before he could even think about it, he found his legs carrying him in her direction (he was already headed to the bar anyway, or so he told himself).

Admittedly, the way she was stabbing the chocolates had him fearing for his life for a split second, but Harry brushed it off and figured she just wasn’t a fan of valentine’s day, if her apparent disdain for the sweets and the rose before her was any indication.

He was also surprised to learn that she’d moved here from America about five years ago and this pub was one she often frequented, yet Harry had never run into her somehow despite coming here a lot and living not too far himself.

He’s glad their paths have finally crossed tonight, though.

That being said, Jules was definitely keeping him on his toes. He never knew what she was going to say next, and she certainly did not hold back from saying exactly what was on her mind.

Harry found himself liking that about her, even if her forwardness came at his expense sometimes (he couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it). Oftentimes, people acted cautious around him and treated him differently just because of his status. Not Jules, though.

But now he could tell that she had something on her mind, from the way she looked at him then shifted her eyes elsewhere a second later.

“What is it?” He questioned, deciding to put her out of her fidgety state. He wasn’t sure what was holding her back, she certainly had no problem handing his ass to him earlier.

“It’s just,” she started, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, the movement catching Harry attention for a second before he reminded himself to be respectful, “what are you doing here by yourself tonight? I find it hard to believe that someone like you doesn’t have anyone to hang around on a day like this.”

Someone like him? Harry furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what she was implying with her words but he didn’t believe she meant it in a negative manner necessarily.

“That came out wrong, I didn’t mean anything like that,” she quickly defended, face becoming redder by the second and Harry was a little endeared by the sight. The woman before him was confident all throughout their conversation, having no fear in expressing her thoughts, yet now she was the flustered one. And Harry couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

“What, thought someone like me had a flock of women at their beck and call and that I’d be off with one or some of them tonight?”

He gave her a blank look afterwards, pretending that he found offence in her words and he almost blew his cover at the way her face visibly fell.

“N-no!” she exclaimed, voice rising a few octaves and Harry could see the bartender, Jonah, suddenly flinch behind her from the sound. He pressed his lips together to silence the chuckle that threatened to escape and continued to stare Jules down.

“Of course I didn’t mean it like that,” she added in a much calmer tone, though Harry could detect that panic lacing her voice and he was starting to feel guilty. “I never believed that you were like that, I just,” she paused, averting her gaze away and staring at the lights above them instead, “never mind, just ignore me.”

Harry figured that she already knew of who he was and his status, and despite having just met her, the fact that she just said she doesn’t believe the rumours about him filled him with inexplicable warmth and he had to remind himself again that he’d only just met this woman. He shouldn’t feel anything of the sort towards her.

He could tell by the way her eyebrows were furrowed that she felt bad about what she’d said, so Harry called out her name and waited for her to look at him again.

When she did, her face holding an apprehensive look, he smiled at her and leaned a bit closer, which made little difference because there was still some space separating them.

“I was just messing with you, Jules,” he reached forward and flicked her nose, causing her to instinctively scrunch her face in a cute manner that had Harry’s stomach fluttering. “Doesn’t feel that nice now, does it?”

Jules chuckled in disbelief, wide eyes staring back at him and a smile was slowly stretching on her lips. “Touché. I see how it is then.”

Harry just shrugged, his own lips twitching as another smile threatened to appear. “Just having some fun, eh?”

Jules was now beaming at him and if Harry was standing, he was certain that his knees would’ve buckled at the sight. He already knew that Jules was gorgeous, and he was sure anyone would agree with him, but when as she smiled at him like that, eyes shining bright under the warm orange lights, brown hair cascading loosely yet somehow perfectly on her shoulders, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that there was an angel sitting before him.

“Truce then?”

Her voice brought him back to earth and Harry chuckled before he shook her outstretched hand, marvelling for a moment at the way it felt enveloped in his. “Truce.”

“But to answer your question,” Harry said after a few beats of silence, glancing at her to find her eyes already set on him. “I didn’t have anything planned, haven’t been on many dates recently to be honest, so I just figured I’d come here and spend time with my good friend,” he lifted his drink with a wide grin on his face, “alcohol, the one thing that never let me down.”

Jules threw her head back in a laugh, the sound being music to Harry’s ears and he wished he could record it just to hear it again and again. “Amen to that.”

The two clinked their glasses together, laughing stupidly for no reason, before they threw their heads back to drink.

“Another round, then?”

Jonah suddenly appeared in front of them, startling Harry a bit. Sometimes he forgot that the man was lingering around behind the bar.

Jules took the liberty to respond for the both of them, exclaiming a “hell yeah, buddy!” that had the two men laughing, and soon enough their glasses were refilled.

After taking a sip, Harry leaned his head on the palm of his hand and set his eyes on Jules again, “So, are you a fan? Of me or of the band?”

He had to ask, he couldn’t help but wonder. If she was indeed a fan, she certainly didn’t show it.

Jules shrugged, playing nonchalant it seemed, but it didn’t escape him the way her cheeks seemed to redden. “Eh, I dabble. You’re alright.”

Her response made him chuckle. “Good to know.” Call him a narcissist, but he really wanted to know whether or not she liked his music. Perhaps he’ll inquire further later.

Because Harry knows that there’s no way he’s letting Jules go anytime soon.

Getting to know Harry was fun.

Sometime during the night, Harry had migrated from his seat onto the bar stool beside her, their thighs brushing against each other every now and then.

Tapping his fingers around his glass, Harry’s rings clinked against it and Jules couldn’t help but be slightly captivated by the action. She wasn’t one to stare at anyone’s hands, but she had to admit that Harry’s were fascinating to look at; his long and slender fingers, adorned by a number of his infamous rings, were truly a sight to see.

She took the chance to also admire his outfit, something she was too busy to do earlier on. His coat was long discarded on the stool beside him, which allowed her eyes to run over his figure. His upper body was covered by a plain white t-shirt with the word “Sex” displayed on his chest, a pair of pair of wide-legged black pants covering his long limbs; it was a simple fit yet it made it difficult for Jules to take her eyes off him. And his hair just looked so soft that her fingers were begging her to touch the fallen strands on his forehead.

Hearing Harry clear his throat broke her out of her trance and Jules realised from the smirk that stretched on his lips that she’d been caught in the act.

She tried playing it off, as if she hadn’t been shamelessly checking him out for the last couple of minutes and smoothed her hands down her dress, adjusting in her seat because honestly, her butt was starting to ache.

But she didn’t want to leave just yet.

Seeming to notice her discomfort, however, Harry downed the last bit of his drink before setting his glass down with a smack, causing Jonah, who was still lingering around them, to shoot Harry a warning glance and a low “careful!”, to which Harry smiled sheepishly before turning to face her again.

“Want to get out of here?”

Jules’ eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, having not expected him to want to continue spending the night with her.

“Sure there’s nothing else you’d rather be doing?” She couldn’t help but question, still struggling to grasp the fact that he still wanted to be around her. Her hands were fidgeting with the hem of her dress, eyes staring into his emerald ones as she waited to hear his response.

Truth be told, she was enjoying his company far much more than she had anticipated and she didn’t want to part from him just yet.

To her relief, a dimpled smile adorned Harry’s face as he took in her words before he shook his head, “Trust me, Jules, there’s no one else I’d rather be with tonight.”

She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t skip a beat at that.

The two got up from their seats after thanking Jonah and fighting over who’s paying because Harry insisted on paying for her drinks. As she was gathering her things, she felt Harry’s presence behind her and she realised, after looking at him over her shoulders, that he was holding her coat up for her.

Heat rushed into her cheeks at the gesture, finding it sweet that he was helping her when he didn’t really have to. “Thank you,” she whispered, turning to him with a smile after feeling him adjust her hair.

His only response was a faint “No need” and he quickly turned to shrug on his own coat, the bashful smile on his lips not going unnoticed by her.

Flashing Jonah another smile, Harry extended his arm towards her and nodded his head towards the exit. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

The two stepped into the night, the biting London air hitting Jules’ cheeks immediately and she was positive her nose was already red from the cold.

Jules reached into her pocket to grab her phone, realising that she hasn’t checked the device since she walked into the bar. There weren’t any notifications that she missed, which wasn’t surprising since her friends (all four of them) were out on dates or staying at home with their partners, so she was sure no one was thinking of her at the moment.

Noticing that it was already 8 in the evening and they were aimlessly walking down the street, Jules turned to Harry with a questioning gaze. “Where are we going?”

Leaning his head down to look at her (or perhaps to be closer, Jules wasn’t sure), he paused, seeming to think, before shrugging his shoulders. “Dunno if I’m quite honest.”

Jules found herself chuckling at him. How did her day end with her walking around with no purpose with a man she’d just met?

She looked at the sign closest to them before she turned to him and did something she rarely ever did. She found herself inviting him to her apartment because they were quite close.

A smirk found its way onto Harry’s lips and she started to regret her decision. “Already trying to get me into your bed, Juliet?”

She mentally cursed at the way her heart leaped upon hearing her name roll off his tongue. Almost no one called her Juliet anymore, except for her parents when they were being serious, but she found herself wanting to hear him say her name over and over again.  

Shaking her head at the thought, Jules reached her arm out and lightly slapped his shoulder. “Oh come off it, you idiot. You can just go ahead and cry alone in your mansion if you want.”

Harry raised his hands in surrender and muttered an apology, although the smile lingered on his lips and Jules tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in her chest.

“Lead the way, then.”

“Make yourself at home, I’ll get us something to drink.”

The walk to her apartment was full of smiles and laughter. She’s come to the conclusion that Harry loves making people laugh, even if his jokes were actually awful, but she found it endearing; he was like a ray of sunshine bringing joy to those around him.

She was glad that she had cleaned up the place a couple of days ago, it would’ve been embarrassing to have someone over to see pyjamas and junk strewn over her furniture. Suffice to say, Jules was a bit of a mess around the house.

After hanging up her coat and Harry’s, she made her way into her kitchen and looked for the good wine she reserved for special occasions. She easily grabbed it, along with two glasses, but then Jules found herself lingering by the kitchen island.

It dawned on her that there was a man in her living room, and he wasn’t just anyone. This was Harry Styles, someone she’d long admired and holy shit was this really happening?

And as sad as it may sound, she’s never felt this connection with anyone before, never felt like the person before her got her and could keep up with her. Yet with Harry, it felt different, and that scared her because she’d only just met him a couple of hours ago.

And he was bound to forget all about her after tonight. He’s just looking for some company, and Jules didn’t think she was that special. Eventually, he’s going to leave. Just like everyone else.

Feeling like the black marble of the island was starting to swirl in her vision, Jules snapped out of her thoughts and sucked in a deep breath before moving back towards the living room.

Harry had his hands interlocked behind his back, perusing through her record collection and it made her inadvertently smile. She was proud of her vast collection of vinyl records, a good portion of them handed down to her by her father; they both had a deep appreciation for records that her mum often made fun of them for.

“Found anything you like?” He jolted at her voice, not having noticed her presence behind him, but then his shoulders immediately relaxed.

Turning towards her with a wide grin, Harry gestured to the shelf behind him. Jules liked the way he seemed to glow underneath the dim lights and she wished she could take a picture of this moment as a keepsake. “This is amazing, there are records here that I couldn’t even find.”

“You can thank my dad for that,” she told him, making herself comfortable on the couch but not breaking eye contact once, “he’s been collecting them for decades and I’m so glad he let me have some, like you should see his collection back home, it’s even more impressive.”

“Hope I’ll get to someday.”

His response caught her off-guard. Before Jules could react, Harry’s teasing voice carried through the room.

“You dabble, you said?” He smirked, turning the Fine Line record in hand to show her and also nodding to the space that held One Direction records. Jules groaned out loud and flopped against the back of the couch.

“A little yeah. Sue me.”

She blushed under his amused gaze, a little embarrassed that he’d found her collection of the band’s records and his own solo music.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, dimples adorning his cheeks, “think it’s cute that you’re a big fan.”

“Don’t know why that makes me cute but okay if you say so.” She mumbled under her breath, realising that he heard her when he chuckled.

“Mind if I put on something then?”

Jules shook her head, signalling for him to go ahead while she poured their drinks. Soon afterwards Stevie Nicks’ voice filled the silence and her lips tugged up at the choice.

The couch dipped beside her when Harry sat down, the scent of his cologne invading her senses. Jules doesn’t think anyone has ever smelled as good as him, but she chose to keep that thought to herself and instead handed him his drink.

A few moments of silence passed after he quietly thanked her, Stevie’s voice the only thing that can be heard.

“So,” he started, throwing an arm on the back of the couch, a shit-eating grin on his handsome face, “would I find any 1D posters if I went into your room?”

“Oh fuck you.” She threw one of the cushions at him, smiling at the way he threw his head back in laughter.

Jules did not mind his company at all.

“Hold on a minute,” Harry straightened up from his previously relaxed position on the couch, “you all work together and you see him and his new girlfriend every day?”

“Yup, you can imagine how fun that is.” She loved her job as an accountant, having always been fascinated with numbers, but she hated having to see him every day in the office across from hers.

It’s not like she hated him, they actually ended on good terms, all things considered. Leon wasn’t bad, he never cheated on her, but the feelings between them just died out, a flicker of something that dwindled into nothing. So, they were friendly with each other and that’s probably the reason why he brought her a box of chocolate and a rose.

But Juliet just didn’t like the daily reminder that she was in fact much lonelier than he was; it’s like rubbing salt in the wound.

“Shit, Jules, that must be hard,” he frowns, leaning forward to pat her hand, “I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“It’s not that serious,” she mumbles, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks at the simple touch and she mentally cursed herself. She had sworn off men for the unforeseeable future. “I’m over him. You know, I actually think I was never really in love with him to begin with.”

“Why’d you think that?” He questions, his thumb still softly caressing her hand; Jules wasn’t sure if he was aware of that or was absentmindedly doing it. Either way, the touch warmed her.

“I think,” she started, setting her glass of wine on the coffee table so she could sink in further into the couch, the move unintentionally bringing her body closer to Harry’s. “I think I was just happy to have someone around, someone to spend time with. I’ve spent a lot of my life alone and I think I just clung onto him because he kept me company.”

A few beats of silence passed before she continued. “That makes me sound horrible, no, it’s not like I used him, I did enjoy his company and we had a lot of fun together, but I think I was just in love with the idea of him, not him.”

Harry nodded his head, leaning back and mirroring her position, “I understand. That’s how I felt in most of my relationships actually. I longed to have someone around so I wouldn’t be lonely, but I’ve learned over the years that having company doesn’t mean that you won’t feel lonely.”

“You sounded pretty heartbroken on your last record though.” If she wasn’t as inebriated as she was, Jules would have probably had some filter and wouldn’t have said that.

Luckily, Harry chuckled in response and relaxed further into the couch, retracting his hand from hers (she instantly missed the warmth), but he didn’t seem upset. “I was. I would say that I was actually falling in love with her, so I was a bit of a mess when she left me.”

His words made her frown. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t know how anyone could leave you.” She muttered under her breath, forgetting that she was usually louder than normal after she’s had a few drinks.

“Could say the same thing about you.”

With her cheeks flushed, Jules forced herself to look him in the eye again. “You don’t even know me.”

“But I’d like to get to know you.” He almost instantly shot back, resting his chin on his hand and his dimples made an appearance, “I think you’re very interesting.”

“Pfft, me? Interesting?” She laughed, waving him off with her hand. “I am anything but.”

“That’s not true!” Harry vehemently denied, sounding almost offended at the thought, which admittedly made Jules’ heart skip a beat. Just a little.

“I’ve spent a few hours with you now and I can already confidently say that you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met,” his eyes shone bright as she stared into them and she could somehow tell he was being sincere, “and trust me, I’ve met a lot of people.”

Dramatically placing a hand over her heart, Jules flashed him her biggest smile. “Oh how special that makes me feel, I can just die happily now.”

Even though she was being melodramatic, his words did cause Jules’ heart to flutter. In the past, some people told her she was annoying, or brash, and some others would make her feel invisible and undeserving of attention.

Harry, though, was unlike anyone she had ever known. From the moment they met, Harry made her feel like the centre of his attention, never once ignored her or brushed her off, even when she was taking the piss; his emerald eyes were always set on her, giving her his undivided attention as he listened to every word that came out of her mouth.

Jules was definitely not used to that.

Harry threw his head back in laughter, a sound that Jules found to be a beautiful melody, and gazed at her with those bright eyes. “Oh you’re insufferable, I take it back.”

She gasped in feigned shock, crossing her arms with force. “No backsies.”

Another melodic laugh left Harry’s mouth and she couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips; right then and there, Jules decided that his laugh was one of her favourite sounds.

“Backsies?” He echoed, his tone still laced with laughter, “what are you, five?”

“Shut your pretty mouth.”

“Oh so you think I have a pretty mouth?” His smirk caused his skin to flush and she cursed herself for saying those words. She really needed to think before she spoke, something her parents always reminded her of.

She recovered quickly, bringing her glass closer to her mouth. “I mean, it’s fine, your lips are a little on the thin side but-“

“Heyyy now,” he protested, pink lips forming a pout and Jules definitely thought about kissing them at that moment. “That’s not nice.”

“Never claimed I was nice now, did I?” Jules smirked, feeling a sudden surge of confidence as she took another sip from her drink.

Jules did not miss the way Harry’s eyes seemed to darken just a little, his jaw tensing as she continued to stare him down. Harry leaned forward, mouth opening to respond when suddenly a shrill tone burst their bubble.

Patting the couch cushions, Jules was trying her hardest to forget the look on Harry’s face as she searched for her phone. Stop it, Jules, he’s an international rockstar and he won’t even remember you after tonight.

She sighed in relief when her hand made contact with the device, but that quickly turned into a groan upon seeing who the caller was. Looking back at Harry, who was leaning against the armrest simply staring at her, she shot him an apologetic look before she answered the call.

“Hey, mama” she closed her eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Not that she was expecting anything to happen between her and Harry, but the mood was definitely ruined now.

“Hello, honey, how are you? Are you home yet?” Her mother’s calming voice sounded from the other side of the line, making her smile a bit despite the interruption. Ever since the breakup, her mom made sure to call her frequently to check up on her, even though Jules insisted that she didn’t have to.

“I am home, mom, yes,” she responded, shifting her gaze back to Harry who was now leaning his head against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed.

“Good, good. Just checking on you, cariña, how was your night then?”

“It was fine,” she paused for a second, not sure if she should mention meeting Harry now, but she decided it was best not to, “had a few drinks then went straight home. Think I’m gonna go to bed in a few actually.”

She could tell by the way Harry’s lips twitched that he was awake and listening.

“I won’t keep you up then,” some noise was in the background and she heard her mother whisper to someone, “okay, honey, good night! And your dad says good night too.”

“Good night, mama,” Jules smiled, finding herself suddenly missing her family that she hasn’t seen since the holiday season. “Tell dad I said good night too, and that he better spoil you today.”

Her mother’s laugh ringed loud on the other side, “We’re going to dinner tonight, cariña, and he even got me a large bouquet of my favourite roses! Joseph shh- Alright then, bye bye, sweets, love you!”

“Bye, mama, love you too.”

A few seconds passed after she ended the call before Harry spoke up, head tilted to the side. “That sounded sweet. Does she check up on you often?”

Jules hummed in response, resting her head sideways on the sofa so was mirroring his position. “Especially after the breakup. She just worries too much about me.”

“I don’t think she needs to,” he shot her a gentle smile, one that made her want to wrap her arms around him and bask in his warmth, “her daughter’s a very strong woman.”

Not finding any words to say in response, Jules continued tracing Harry’s features, lazily admiring the slope of his nose, the curve of his brows, the sharpness of his jawline; everything about the man before her was mesmerising.

Turning her gaze back to his eyes, Harry flashed her another smile before sitting up straight, the smile slowly dropping. “I should probably go now, it’s getting late.”

Jules immediately wanted to shout “no!” and ask him to stay, but the rational part of her mind told her that she shouldn’t, that she would only set herself up for heartbreak when he finally leaves her.

So the only thing she could say was a faint “Okay.”

As they stood up, it seemed like Harry was holding back from saying something, but she didn’t know if she was just reading too much into things. It was probably just her hazy mind (though she’d argue her head has never been clearer)

They silently made their way to her door, Jules feeling deflated at the prospect of his departure. Would they keep in touch? Would she just become a distant memory, a miserable woman he spent a lonely valentine’s day with?

“Can I-“ Harry abruptly stopped in his tracks, causing Jules to almost run into his back because she was trailing behind him. His demeanour was suddenly all shy when he turned to face her, cheeks flushed crimson.

Jules waited with bated breath and wide eyes for him to continue, heart beating loudly in her chest.

“Can I have your number?”

Relief washed over Jules and Harry visibly relaxed at the bashful smile on her lips. Jules didn’t know why he was so nervous, but the sight was so endearing to her.

She added her number after he handed her the device, secretly smiling at her contact name Juliet x. She already earned herself an x after her name after a few hours? Jules’ heart was beating so loudly she feared Harry would hear its calls for him.

Jules watched him put his shoes on, wishing the night wouldn’t end so soon and wondering if it would be too forward to ask him to stay longer.

Deep in her thoughts, Jules didn’t register that Harry was standing in front of her, bodies close enough that the scent of his cologne engulfed her senses once more.

“I should go now.” Harry whispered, leaning down and wrapping his arms around her and Jules had never felt so whole. She’s heard about Harry’s incredible hugs and now that she’s experiencing it, she never wanted to let go of his warmth.

Harry broke their embrace much too soon for her liking, but not before peppering a gentle kiss on the side of her head. “Good night, Juliet.”

Say something. Don’t let him leave. “Good night, H.”

And then he was gone and Jules was left on her own once more.

After staring longingly at the closed door, as if he would suddenly appear behind it, Jules sighed and made her way back to the living room, slumping against the couch cushions and wishing Harry’s arms were around her again.

Her phone dinged on the coffee table, signalling the arrival of a text. A simple “Hey. I really enjoyed tonight. H” was staring back at her.

Jules contemplated for a few seconds, heartbeats picking up their speed again, before she whispered “fuck it” and clicked on his number.

“Juliet?”

Deciding to go after what her heart wants for once, Jules didn’t hesitate to respond, “Do you want to-“

But an insistent knock interrupted her and Jules wanted to scream at the intrusion. Who on earth would be knocking at her door at this hour?

“Harry, hold on just-“

She takes frustrated strides to the door, ready to yell, but the sight behind it made her anger immediately evaporate.

“H-Harry? What are you doin-“

“What were you going to ask me?” He interrupted, sounding a little out of breath and she wondered if he ran all the way back to her apartment.

Feeling emboldened by his return, Jules took a few steps towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands immediately grabbing her face and pulling her closer, their lips joining together in a gentle yet eager kiss. 

Jules felt her body melt in his hold. Their kiss only lasted for a few seconds before they pulled apart, still lingering so close that she could taste his wine-stained lips. 

“Stay?” Jules asked, rubbing her nose against his, her heart thudding in her chest as she waited for his answer. Her words carried more weight than she had intended them to and she hoped they wouldn’t scare him off. But her worries vanished when she felt him smile widely against her lips. 

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

Maybe valentine’s day isn’t so bad after all.

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and please come talk to me about Harry and Jules and tell me your thoughts!

[ladyeliot]

It will always be you

Prequel: Stay with me

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: The snap has happened, the return of Wakanda has not been as you all expected, but now you have to face reality, and you just can't stop thinking about him, about Tony.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Word count: 4101

A/N: Post Infinity War. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader Powers: Psionic. You use psionic force to track any sentient being. You also create psychic shields to protect yourself. You can project psychic force bolts which have no physical effects but which can affect a victim's mind, causing them pain.

Life is a continuous struggle of choices that you have to make without stopping to think for a second. It is said that hope is the last thing to be lost, probably because the choice you made almost left you without it. You must also learn that happiness is the last thing to be found, probably because the choice you have made has made you unhappier than you will ever be. Your life has been full of choices, you might have regretted many of them, but you decided at the time to make them, so you never allowed yourself to regret your actions, until that day.

Three weeks after Thanos snapped, hope was completely lost. The new facility has been uncharacteristically silent, no one has been able to say more than two words in a row, and you had barely managed to say one since your return from Wakanda. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, James Rhodes, Bruce Banner and you, those were the surviving Avengers, the ones that life had given you a second chance, but it didn't really feel like one.

You were in your old room, old because two years ago one of your decisions had taken you away from that place, yes, you were against the Sokovia Accords, that had led you to take the side of the Captain and to fight against the side of Iron Man, who had been the person who had saved you from the madness that your powers had generated in your mind. But even if you had turned against him, you knew you owed him everything. Evidently this was something he didn't understand, which led to a wide rift that had never been bridged on either side, and which led to a breakdown in your relationship of closeness.

Every corner of that room had been kept exactly as you had left it that night when you fled with Wanda. Your drawings together with the charcoals scattered on the desk, the book 'In Search of Lost Time' by Marcel Proust on the bedside table and that bracelet that Tony had given you for your 26th birthday that you had left next to the open jewellery box on the bed. It was really painful to see all of this, knowing that those facilities would probably never be what they once were, that Wanda would not suddenly appear at your door, that you would never sit around the dinner table and that Tony would not occupy the armchair next to your bed to try to cheer you up after a mission that hadn't gone so well. You didn't know whether frustration was taking over the fear and sadness or whether you just didn't know how to control your feelings on that occasion.

The days were long, each of you working in silence trying to make sense of what had happened, looking for a solution that would never come to the problem. You shared the hours, but the solitude that enveloped you was too austere to realise that there was a person by your side. You didn't know Thanos' location, however, even if you did, especially if you did, it had become clear that you could not stand alone against his entire army.

"Would you like some?" asked Natasha offering you a plate with a veggie sandwich on it, which you took with an almost soundless 'thank you'.

Yes, actually that had been your first word in five days, since you said goodnight to Bruce last Sunday, food and sleep were not high on your priorities, especially when you spent the night using your telepathic detection trying to find some sign of life that would make you believe Tony was alive, but it was useless. Your psionic senses allowed you to track any sentient being, you were able to scan large areas, but your ability did not address the entire universe.

That night your spirits seemed to be running low to the ground, three weeks without having achieved anything that would allow you to have any lucidity in your plans was too long as the situation stood. You could hear in the background a soft murmur coming from a conversation between Natasha and Steve, but you weren't really paying attention to it, it was all in your thoughts. But at that instant, an inner burst made them evaporate. A signal came into your brain, a psionic emanation that alerted you to the presence of a spaceship entering the stratosphere, with a fixed direction, yours. You rose from your chair, standing upright, capturing the attention of the people around you. You closed your eyes, heightening all your senses, taking in all the information that was coming to you, at that moment you felt it. You opened your eyes and looked at them.

"He's here," were the only words you could utter before you rushed outside. Your companions soon followed your path, asking questions to explain what was happening, but your inner euphoria prevented you from saying a single word.

That ship appeared above you as you raced across the garden, night was falling relentlessly and you could only glimpse a halo of light that seemed to direct the ship as it landed delicately on the wide grassy esplanade. The five of you paused, taking in the scene, discovering how a side door opened to project a flight of stairs. When you saw his face for the first time your lungs deflated, letting out all the air they had accumulated over a long period of time. Your body went rigid and you didn't react until Steve ran past you and approached the ship to help him down.

He looked terrible, it was evident in every facial feature and in his body movements, you knew what you had been through, but you had no idea what Tony had been through since his disappearance in New York, although you could get a pretty good idea. Before your eyes were Steve and Tony in custody, reunited again, after all that had happened, none of it mattered, at least not to you, and perhaps you had a vain hope that it didn't matter to anyone else either. Even so you didn't know how to act when your eyes connected with his, for a slight moment you wanted to approach him, offer him a hug and tell him that you were relieved to discover that he was there, with you, after all, but you chose to stay where you were, next to Natasha.

It wasn't until you headed inside that the stiffness disappeared from your body. A whispered 'are you okay' from Steve made you react again and pay attention to Natasha's words that were projecting all the information gathered during those days.

"The governments are destroyed," she reported as she projected images showing the missing, like Wilson, Maximoff and Parker, among others, "the working parts are trying to do a census, and it looks like he did it. He did what he said he would do. Thanos wiped out 50% of all living things."

Silence echoed around you, you were sitting in an armchair, somewhat away from the other members, playing with your fingers, trying not to look up, until he spoke.

"Where is he now?" asked Tony. "Where?"

"We don't know," Steve informed him from beside you, sitting at a table. "He opened a portal and went through it. We looked for Thanos for three weeks, with deep space scanners," Steve looked at you, "and satellites, and we found nothing." He looked at Tony. "Tony, you fought him."

"What are you talking about?" asked Tony from his wheelchair. "I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the wizard gave away the store. That's what happened, there's no fight..."

You took a breath and sighed, because you could contemplate what was about to happen right now, the nerves were there along with the negativity and failure of some of the superheroes on that planet and others, and you knew it could explode at any moment.

"Tony, I'm going to need you to focus..." Steve repeated again hoping that Tony would offer him some clue as to the whereabouts of Thanos.

"I needed you," interrupted Tony in a raised tone. "as in past tense.  That trumps what you need. It's too late, buddy. Sorry." He used a second of his silence to look at Steve and another second to look at you, who stood beside him. You took in most of the feelings hidden in his gaze, and none of them were positive or forgiving. "You know what I need? I need a shave," he tried to get out of the wheelchair, taking everything on the table in his stride. "I don't believe I ever remember telling you this..." he ripped out the IV that connected the drip to his left arm. "To the living and the dead, What we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not," he looked back at you and Steve repeatedly. "That's what we needed!”

The discussion continued, avoiding an upset Tony explaining everything he thought about the current and past situation, ignoring the suggestions Rhodes was giving him to calm down and take his seat again.

"[...] Bunch of tired old wheels!" he pointed at Steve. "I got nothin' for you, Cap! I've got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options! Zero, zip, nada. No trust - liar."

Almost ipso facto he turned to you ripped off the reactor prostrate on his chest and handed it to Steve in his hand, leaving those present virtually speechless, if you still had any left.

"Here, take this. You'll find him, if you put that on. You hide-"

After those words you gazed again into his eyes full of resentment at the past, before his body could take it no more and he collapsed in the middle of the room.

In the hours that followed, you were the shadow of a ghost gazing at him from a distance from the door frame of one of the recovery rooms in the new complex. On the one hand fearing his reaction against you when he woke up, while on the other hand wanting to hear it because you knew that sooner or later it would come but you wanted it to come as soon as possible so that you could face it. Those words she had said to Steve were harsh, but they were really nothing to what you expected might happen. It seemed absurd at the time to have entertained the idea that it might have been forgotten.

"Bruce gave him a sedative," Rhodes said, looking up at you, who were leaning against the doorframe. "He'll be unconscious for the rest of the day. Do you want to sit down?"

"No...I'd better..." but Rhodes didn't allow you to finish your words, as he had risen from the armchair next to Tony and offered it to you. "Thank you."

The door to the room ajar to offer you some more privacy. As you turned your gaze towards him you realised the fragility his body conveyed in those moments, he had spent weeks wandering through space not knowing if he was going to get the chance to return home again and yet he had been able to stay alive and find himself there. You closed your eyes and settled back on the couch, you remembered the first time you did that with Tony, he had spent too much time without sleep after the events after the Chitauri invasion, he could barely sleep because of the nightmares and he begged you to stop them every night, so with your eyes closed you concentrated and invaded his mind with caution releasing the tension you found in it and giving him the peace he needed. When you opened your eyes again, her expression seemed to have changed, she seemed to have found some relief inside her, that fact made you smile. But a knock on the door woke you up.

"We need to talk," Steve's words sounded serious.

A new piece of information about Thanos' whereabouts came as a surprise, but for you the surprise came right after.

"Wait, is this some kind of punishment or something?" you said completely dumbfounded, just outside the room where Tony was, with what Steve was proposing. "Why me?"

"Because we need someone to stay with Tony," he said calmly crossing his arms.

"Is it because I'm the smallest of the whole team? Because I could really knock you all out right now with the blink of an eye," you said crossing your arms too.

"It's because Tony needs you," Steve lowered his tone, "and you need him."

There was nothing but truth in those words. You didn't know if Tony really needed you, but what you had assumed was that you'd needed him for a long time, and you'd put a lot of things before that need, creating your close relationship to go to shit, basically.

"I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you on this mission," Steve said frankly. "And he wouldn't forgive me either if I said that happened."

You lowered your face as you nodded, accepting his words and the job you had been given.

"Be very careful," you said before Steve disappeared from in front of you to take a path that you had no idea what could be in store for them.

From that moment on, the hours went by really slowly, you took your position in that armchair again, you needed to have a clear mind, you couldn't continue martyring yourself with all the events that had happened, so you started reading 'In Search of Lost Time', that book that had been forgotten on the bedside table since you left that place. News was nil, you barely got a sign of what might be happening and you knew it would probably be days before you got it. 

Night was falling on the compound again, Tony was barely making any sign of waking up, which also gave you time to consider how the situation would play out, and various possibilities for coping with it. Some of his belongings had been salvaged from the ship, and his helmet, or rather what was left of it, stared at you from the dresser in the room. Without having a reason in mind you approached him, causing a blue light to suddenly flash across his eyes, showing you his figure in the middle of the room.

"Is it on?" a figure of a seated, completely haggard Tony appeared before your eyes. "Hey, Ms. Y/L/N, Y/N," your brow furrowed, but you approached his reflection. "If you find this footage don't put it on social media, it'll be really tearful," his words brought a sad smile to your face. "I don't know if you'll watch these videos. I don't even know if you're still... Oh god, I hope so..." there was a silence from his words, but you could see him bring his hands to his face, something inside you cracked. "I guess it's easier to do this if you know the chances of seeing you again are practically nil," something inside you made your heart shrink. "I probably should have realised this a lot sooner," he fell silent, "yeah, but I was busy trying not to hate you too much, you know, when you decided to abandon me and choose the other side," exhaustion almost prevented him from keeping his eyes open. "Anyway, anyway that made me realise how important you had been to me," he let his gaze wander, "I tried to be there for you ever since I met you and... god, this is getting too depressing," he ran his hand over his face. "I just want you to know that I wish you were here, because you're the only person I'd like to share my last hours with," he nodded slightly, you knew what he was trying to say with those words, which made your eyes water. "Don't feel bad about this, I mean, if you stay prostrate for a couple of weeks... and then move on with immense guilt..." he hid his face in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes, you wiped away a tear that ran down your cheek keeping the bitter smile you had been wearing all along. "I want you to know... when I've fallen asleep, it will be like the nights we spent together. I'm fine. All right," he gestured towards you. "I'll dream of you. Because it will always be you."

Suddenly, as if nothing had happened, his image disappeared in front of your eyes, leaving you with hundreds of feelings invading your body and mind. You looked up and there he was, still there, sleeping pleasantly, barely knowing what had just happened. You hurriedly wiped away the last tear running down your cheek and sat back down, putting your feet up on the couch, unable to take your eyes off him. Perhaps those thoughts were drawn from his most desperate moments, believing that his life was about to come to an end, perhaps he was unwilling to show them to you now that he had resumed the course of his life, so even though it was not possible you tried to send them to a hidden place in your mind.

You had hardly slept in those three weeks, your mind hadn't rested for days and you didn't know why, but finding yourself curled up in that armchair next to Tony was giving you back the tranquillity your body hadn't known for too long. It was impossible to stop your eyelids from closing, on the contrary you were willing them to do so and for sleep to warmly invade your body, no matter how long you could stay asleep. That's how it happened, making the hours pass without you even noticing. 

Like a little gust of wind, something in your body made the light enter through your eyelashes. Slowly you opened your eyes, feeling in various parts of your body a tightness due to the position in which you had fallen asleep in that armchair. You discovered that a woollen blanket covered your limbs, but what kept you alert was the bed next to you was completely empty. Tony wasn't there. You jumped up, looking around, the bedroom door was ajar and Iron Man's helmet was missing.

"Tony?" you asked, raising your voice, stepping out into the hallway. "Tony! Where are you?"

You barely heard an answer, so you were thankful those powers were within you, you stopped in the middle of the corridor and closed your eyes, your receptors picked up a signal coming from downstairs, it was him. You found him leaning on the kitchen counter, his eyes closed as he tried to stand. You ran to him, grabbing his arm to hold him up.

"What do you think you're doing?" you said, leading him to the nearest armchair in the living room.

You discovered that he had shaved, taken a shower and was wearing one of his Tom Ford suits that were so recognisable to you. That meant he had been wandering around the house unsupervised for over an hour without waking you up. You knelt down next to him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you asked with a worried look on your face as you contemplated that he was extremely tired. "Bruce gave a set of instructions for you to follow, you can't just walk around..."

"It was your turn?" he cut you off with an angry tone. "Be my babysitter? How did you do it? Did you draw lots?" his countenance was serious, you could still see the puffiness in his eyes and his face fully dehydrated. "Whoever draws the shortest stick gets to look after poor Stark, all right, listen..."

"No! You listen to me," you cut him off, raising your tone above his, standing up and resting your hands on each armrest "Tony, we all lost. We all fought and lost, none of us made it," your face was three feet above his. "So now all we can do is try, in some completely illogical way, to move the situation forward. And if we can't, at least look to the future by doing our best to honour those we have lost."

Silence flooded over you.

"So please don't make the situation more complicated," you continued, lowering your tone, almost begging him. "If I've stayed with you it's because Steve has made me understand some things, because yes, it wasn't really my intention to stay with you from the start, but then I realised that if anyone had to stay with you it was me. I realised that if I had to risk my life again I didn't want to go on the mission, because that would mean never seeing you again.And I've also realised that I've needed you for a long time, that I'm finally by your side and I have no intention of separating from you. Whether you like it or not." Tony cut his gaze with yours by ducking it, but brought his right hand over yours.

That gesture provoked you to bring your other hand to his face, placing a gentle caress on his cheek.

"I know there are a lot of things we need to talk about, but one thing we do have is time," you explained as Tony intertwined his fingers with yours. "So please, don't do anything more stupid and don't disappear," maybe it was the atmosphere generated by the situation, but you risked saying the next words. "Because it will always be you."

Tony closed his eyes a little regretfully, a little embarrassedly, and brought his free hand to his face.

"I knew you saw that," he added calmly removing his hand from his face. "Well, at least I've saved myself from having to repeat it in person."

"I'm not sure I got it right," you said falsely. "You know, there was a lot of interference, and besides, I couldn't really understand what you were saying, so..."

"Sorry, there was only one pass for the film," he said wryly which caused you to smile widely as you rediscovered that the old Tony was still hidden in it. "We won't know when there will be a revival."

"Too bad, I really liked that movie," you sat down on the armrest without letting go of his hand and looking up at him.

"Really?" he asked for the first time modestly, and putting aside all the irony that surrounded the situation.

"Totally," you nodded, trying to express all the many feelings through your eyes.

Silence again kept you company, until Tony somewhat uncomfortably broke it.

"I suppose you know that by now I would have kissed you and created a fully effective plan to make love to you for hours until you begged me to stop in pleasure," he stated lamely, "although I think if you give me a couple of hours..."

"All right, Don Juan," you cut him off with a chuckle, "we'd better leave all that for later, and I'll take you back to bed now."

"I think it's a good start if you take me to bed," he continued with his insinuations.

You got up from the armrest and helped him put his arm around your shoulders, even though he repeatedly told you he could walk unaided. 

"Have we heard from the team?" he asked, slowly climbing the steps of the ladder.

"Soon," you said with a halo of hope. 

You definitely made it back to the room, having made it successfully through the journey. You helped him get rid of the shoes and shirt that his pride had forced him to wear, but which now made no sense when he was going back to bed.

"See, you're finally going to get what you wanted, I'm undressing you," you said jokingly causing a smile to appear on Tony's face as he lay back down. "You rest, I'll be here. I'll always be here."

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