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crazyunsexycool · 4 months

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Now we know that Steve is a giant softie.

Imagine Honey being heavily pregnant with bee and she is not comfortable at all. Hence she gets a pregnancy pillow to help her sleep better.

Who knew that steeb would get jealous of a non living object like a pillow!!

He's so jealous of this pillow! How can his girl feel more comfortable with this stupid pillow and not him?! Offcourse he's the best cuddler! He'd be all grumpy because he's not able to cuddle Honey because of this pillow!

Hahahahaha!! Poor Steve. He finally got his girl and now some pillow is taking his place.

Pregnancy Pillow

Warning: pregnancy talk.

A/N: also I know I said I’d call Sugar from MLL Mrs. B but it feels so formal to use it all the time and I remembered that Steve calls her Magnet and I think ppl calling her Mags would make more sense than Mrs. B so Mags is Sugar lolol

Steve walked in to his shared home with you after a long day of work. He was excited to wash the day away and spend the evening with you. Without much thought Steve walked into the living room where he knew he’d find you. Since you had started your second trimester, every day without fail, you’d take a nap. It was a running joke between the two of you that the couch had been laced with a sleep aid because every that sat there would eventually get sleepy.

Just what he thought, Steve found you on the comfy couch but this time he noticed the huge pillow you were surrounded by. You looked so comfortable in that moment but Steve frowned slightly at the thought that he couldn’t sit and place your head on his lap. Still Steve leaned over the back of the couch and pressed a kiss to your temple before heading to take a shower.

When he came back down you were in the kitchen drinking some water. You smiled at Steve as he got closer and placed a hand on your growing belly.

“Hi honey, how was your day?” He says before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Good and uneventful. How was your training?”

“Good, same as always with the new trainees. They want to impress me and go overboard.” Steve grabs some water for himself. “How was your nap? You looked comfortable.”

You smile and sigh.

“It was amazing. Mags got me the pregnancy pillow and it’s so comfortable. I love it.”

“That was nice of her.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to use it in bed. I bet I’ll sleep even better with it.”

“Excuse me, what?” Steve looked genuinely horrified at the thought of that pillow in your shared bed. “That thing isn’t going in our bed.”

You immediately pout and cross your arms over your chest.

“Why not? It’s comfortable.”

“Well you have me. Don’t you want to cuddle anymore?” It was Steve’s turn to pout.

You move around to stand in front of Steve and you grab both his hands. “My darling you know I love to cuddle up with you but I haven’t been sleeping that well. I just need the extra support.”

Steve groans but accepts that your comfort is more important than some cuddles. You get up on your toes and kiss his cheek before leaving to place your new pillow on your bed.

****

For weeks Steve had to watch you get comfortable with that damn pillow. Bucky had told him that it was the best and worst thing ever invented. Steve could only agree. While he was more than happy for you to get a more comfortable sleep, he hated being separated from you.

You on the other hand couldn’t stop giggling at the hatred Steve had toward an inanimate object. He would glare at the pillow every chance he could. And you’re sure that if he could, Steve would burn that pillow just so that he never had to see it again.

It wasn’t until Steve had come back injured from a mission that he finally understood the comfort of the stupid pillow. Steve woke up from a nap after being discharged from the medbay and he was surprised when he found himself wrapped up with the pillow.

“You seem comfortable.” You giggle as you enter your room.

Steve tried to push the pillow away but it was too late. You'd already seen him and now he knew that you would never let him live it down. He tried to move to help you get into bed but with how hurt he was he could only sit by and watch you wiggle your way into a comfortable position.

"C'mere." You open your arms and Steve settles in next to you.

His hand immediately lands on your swollen belly and he sighs happily while you play with his hair.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better, now that I get you to myself."

"You've have me to yourself all the time." You say with a smile.

"Not with that monstrosity in the way."

You laugh again. "The baby will be here faster than you think and soon that pillow will be gone from our bed. Just hold on a little longer."

"I'm burning it after Bee is born."

You huff a laugh. "You can't burn it."

"Why not?"

"Well," you feel flustered just at the thought. "What if we have more kids? I'm going to need it again."

Steve pulls back to get a better look at you. His eyes are soft and full of love.

"You want to have more kids?"

"Yes, maybe. Only if you do too."

Steve gives you a lopsided grin and rests his head against your chest. "I guess the pillow stays."

#A love as sweet as honey extra #Steve rogers x reader #dad!Steve rogers #Honeybee Rogers

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laangdonn · 11 months

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hot trains

summary: peeta & katniss find comfort in each other when they can’t sleep on the victory tour.

pairing: catchingfire!peeta mellark x katniss everdeen

a/n: wrote this on a train myself lolol so y’know i was immersed.

*************************

katniss’s bed was comfy, but her body wasn’t.

she was tangled in the mustard silk sheets, large pillows encasing her in the large expanse of the mattress. her skin flamed with heat, hair stuck to her forehead with slick sweat. twisting and turning to find a cold spot in the bed, anything to relieve her skin from the unbearable heat flashes that came from not being able to sleep.

the victory tour had been an absolute nightmare so far. every day on the train was an extension of her misery in the games. it was insufferable having to speak in front of the families whom had lost loved ones at katniss’s hands. she knew peeta felt the same, he’d been quieter than usual since the tour began.

effie insisted she try and rest after the events of district 11, the stop katniss had been dreading the most. and it went worse than she expected, the brutality, sorrow, and complete angst of the events had taken its toll. effie was out of her mind if she thought katniss could get any shut-eye.

and apparently so was katniss herself, because here she was, the dim twilight of the morning grazing the curtains of her windows. and she was alone. still unable to sleep.

another thirty minutes passed, and katniss had officially given up on the futile attempt at rest. with a huff, she stood up, slicking her damp hair back and running a hand down her hot face. the silk nightgown she wore stuck to her body, making her cringe with each step out of her room.

luckily, the lounge was chilly, a relief from the stifling heat of her bedroom. katniss slowly felt her body get cooler, goosebumps arising on her skin as she took a seat at the empty bar.

she played with a chip in the marble, a flaw that made her eyebrows raise. the capitol isn’t so perfect, are they? she thought to herself, chuckling under her breath.

just as she’d ripped the loose piece of stone off the bar top, her perfect was disrupted, the sound of a train door rustling open cutting through her silence.

katniss didn’t bother turning around, recognizing the footsteps as they approached her instantly.

peeta took a seat next to her, clearing is throat awkwardly.

“i didn’t know you were awake.” he said first.

she kept her eyes trained on the chip she rolled under the pads of her fingers, “i didn’t know you were, either.”

he shifted in his seat, “i sit out here every night.”

“it was hot in my room,” katniss announced, suddenly feeling the need to explain why she was invading his space. “i had to get out.”

“me too,” he agreed, “can’t sleep?”

she nodded. and they stayed silent for a while.

“are you thirsty?” his soft voice asked, purring in katniss’s ears.

“sure.”

he stood up, going behind the bar to grab two glasses. he handed her one and they sipped, staring at each other over the cup rim.

“good water,” she mumbled, wanting to say something.

he nodded in agreement, a small smile playing at his lips. “capitol water.”

“it’s cold,” the words tumbled off her tongue before she could stop them. she suddenly became aware that her hands and shoulders were shaking.

peeta’s eyes glanced over her figure, “do you want my robe?” he gestured to the thin, grey cardigan he wore over his pajamas.

she knew it wouldn’t be much to stop her shivering, but she also knew peeta wouldn’t allow her to refuse.

the warm fabric encased her arms, goosebumps retreating back into her skin. katniss found it unfathomable she was so hot just a bit earlier.

“better?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

she nodded, biting her lip. she couldn’t pretend not to notice the way his eyes lingered on her, the prospect of her in his clothes probably made his mind spin. it smelled like him, his musk. it made her knees weak, for some reason.

“we should try to get back to bed,” peeta suggested, gaze peering behind katniss to the window that was now brightened by a soft orange light, no longer blue with the fading darkness.

but she didn’t want to go back to bed. in fact, she would much rather stay here, cold but wrapped in something of him. her heart dropped, dreading her bed and her room and those ugly yellow sheets.

“no!” she blurted, noticing he started getting up at her silence. her cheeks flushed pink, “i- i mean, i think the air conditioning in my room is broken.”

peeta looked stuck, looking from the exit door to his room and katniss, before he too, blushed like a young child confessing a crush. “you could sleep in my room, only if you want.”

katniss didn’t know if that’s what she wanted him to say, but by the way her heart picked up and her mind raced, she wasn’t opposed to it.

“thanks,” she said, suddenly uncomfortable in her seat.

she followed him to his room, the air still cold and his sheets even colder.

this wouldn’t be the first time they slept next to each other, the nightmares she’s been having since the tour started causing him to run into her room, panicked, asking if she’s okay. and all she wants is him and his comfort. she’d lay her head on his thumping chest and try to forget the dream where his heart was stagnant.

but this was different. he willingly asked her to come to his room, no nightmares forcing them together, just the two of them on pure will. katniss couldn’t help the sigh and smile of relief when her body melted under the thick duvet, warming her skin perfectly.

peeta slipped next to her, inching closer and closer until her head lightly grazed his rib cage. they kept both their arms at their sides, not wanting to overstep but still, craving touch.

the tension was so thick between them, compressing against katniss’s chest like her lungs would collapse if she didn’t make a move. so she did, hoisting herself higher against him till her head was above his heart and her forearm was draped across his stomach.

she felt him take a sharp breath at her sudden shift, his lungs deflating slowly as he eased into her. his strong arm slowly wrapped itself around her waist, the two now tangled together. by their own design.

“i feel like i cant sleep without you,” katniss confessed, her words muffled by his shirt.

she felt his chest rumble under her ear as he chuckled lightly, “neither can i.”

“so let’s not,” she lifted her head to look at him suddenly, sunlight illuminating the side of his face, his favorite color blending into his complexion and glittering in his blue eyes like shimmering sparkles. “let’s always sleep together.”

it could’ve been the lack of sleep talking, or the fact that his bed was just so comfortable, she couldn’t fathom her own. but this was truth that fell past her teeth. this was real.

he broke their eye contact to let his gaze flicker to her lips, only for a split second. but she didn’t miss it. his words were breathy as he whispered,

“always,”

#peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #thg #the hunger games #catching fire #victory tour #comfort #peeta x katniss fluff #peeta x katniss angst #peeta x katniss imagine #peeta x katniss fanfic #josh hutcherson #peeta x katniss

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expecto-kedavra · 1 year

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Hi i love your MC's man bun lolol

but i was wondering if i could request a male mc ravenclaw piece where he is trying to work through trauma caused from ranrok? also could you use me/i perspective cause i've never seen that written for HL on here

the longer the better!

First off, thank you! Second, this was a great first ask as I myself am a male Ravenclaw/Slytherin who has dealt with trauma ✌️I HOPE ITS NOT TOO LONG 😂

RAVENCLAW M!MC DEALING WITH THE AFTER EFFECTS OF RANROK

!Warning! - insomnia, nightmares, grieving over death, loved ones dying, PTSD.

4,257. That's how many stars were on my Ravenclaw dormitory ceiling. I had long memorized the constellations before all of this, and I quite wished I hadn't. It would be another wonderful way to pass the time. I sat up on my bunk, and let out a large, dramatic exhale. I looked down at Amit, and chuckled as I saw him drooling into his pillow. It was a wonder that he was able to sleep with the dragon that was Everett snoring in the bunk on the other side of the room. I always managed before, but not now. Not anymore. I usually don't dream, and if I did it was something ridiculous like Sebastian turning into a Runespoor. It started the night of Ranrok. The night he attacked Hogwarts. The night Professor Fig...left.

It had been six months since the events underneath the school. Six months since the nightmares began. The first time it happened, I thought I was awake. I was in Hogsmeade, but it was...different. There was a low fog covering everything. From out of it walked Victor Rookwood. "Impossible. You're dead!" I screamed at him. He let out a low, cruel chuckle. "Arrogant child. Thinking death is the end." He grabbed my shoulder and we disappeared into a writhing black mess of flames. I dropped onto the floor of the Final Repository, right in front of the demonic dragon that was Ranrok. I barely could stand before I was incinerated by a massive black wave of heat, death and pain. Then I woke up. They all started like this, for the first week or so. Then they got worse. I could handle those ones. I couldn't handle the ones that came after. The ones with my friends. At first it was Professor Fig, and I had hope. I thought he would save me, just as he had so many times before. I was foolish to think that. Ranrok eviscerated him. I was left to grieve again, crying over his body as the ghostly forms of Rookwood and Ranrok cackled over me, telling me how I will always fail. Of course it got worse after that. It was no longer Fig, but my friends. Sebastian, Ominis, Amit, Poppy, Samantha...all dying horrible and painful deaths, while the ghosts of my enemies laughed at my failure to protect them. It was easier to just stay awake. Brewed several wakefullness potions in the room every day, so it wasn't hard to keep myself up. It was dreadfully boring though.

Eventually the morning caught up with my thoughts and it was luckily time to head to class. Classes were easy. Like Fig always said, I had an affinity for magic, which meant I seemed to absorb everything and didn't have much struggle with anything. Unfortunately, I seemed to always drift off into my own thoughts, which would always lead me back to Fig. How he gave his all, literally to his death, to help me seal the repository. I hadn't been down there since. As soon I decided to pay a visit tonight, Professor Hecat called on me. "And MC, could you tell us the difference between a Lethifold and a Dementor?" She looked at me with that knowing look she always had, like she was fully aware of everything I was thinking. "A Lethifold is classified as a Beast, and eats its victims, whereas a Dementor is a non-being and sucks out the soul of its prey." I effortlessly answered. "Correct, and how do we repel them both should they cross our path?" She knew that I knew this. Why did she ask? "A patronus charm." I'd never cast a patronus before. Quite frankly I'm unsure if I'd be able to. "Correct again. Points to Ravenclaw." she beamed. "We must remember that happiness is subjective, and often finds itself accompanied by other emotions, even sadness." Again she looked deeply at me, almost studying my very thoughts. "That is all for today, class dismissed!" I couldn't help but feel her piercing eyes follow me out of class.

"MC!" I heard from behind me. It was Samantha Dale, one of my closest friends. "Hey, Sammy. How are you?' I asked. "Doing well, thank you. I was wondering if you'd join me in the gardens? I'd like to ask you something about..uh...nature." she seemed to stumble over the last mouthful. "Oh, sure. I'd think you wouldn't need any assistance in that area, you're an expert." Something seemed a bit out of place, but I didn't press for more. Turns out she needed help identifying a beehive, and if Glumbumbles had infested it. They hadn't. Once we had concluded, I turned to head out of the gardens and on to Charms. I was called back by Samantha. "You are stronger than you know." she said. That was what Fig said before I summoned everything within me to seal the repository. Why did she say that? I abruptly turned, confused. "Thank you." I managed to get out. The thought barraged my brain...why did she say that?

The rest of the day was uneventful. I visited Hogsmeade with Natty, and helped Poppy with some Kneazle trouble. Darkness fell, and after I was certain everyone was asleep, I headed down to the Map Chamber with the assistance of a disillusionment charm. When I reached the large sleeping dragon statue, I was startled to see someone there. Professor Hecat. "Welcome." she said. I removed my charm. No doubt her years as an Unspeakable had fine tuned her senses. It was useless to try and pass. "Lovely night, isn't it?" she said, rather gently. "If one can avoid Peeves and his flaming pins, I'd say so." I replied. She laughed. "Yes, well I suspect you have something and someone to attend to. I'll leave you to it." This lady will always astound and confuse me. "I suppose so, Professor." I responded, trying to keep the confusion out of my voice. Who was she talking about? The portraits? She was there for the battle of the repository, so I knew that she had met the Keepers. I picked my brain as to any other hidden meanings she may have been trying to allude to as I made my way down the spiraling stone stairs. I decided she must have meant the Keepers and they must have some new knowledge or task for me. I was wrong.

Once I entered the Map Chamber, I was greeted by four very empty portraits. "Strange." I muttered to myself. I pushed Professor Hecat's cryptic words to the back of my head and meandered down to the repository. Sealed, blue and glowing, as it should be. I could feel the power emanating from it. So much pain. literally, went into it. So much loss...and luckily, so much more prevented. I shuddered at the thought of Ranrok gaining that power. It would be my nightmares come to life. Right as I sat in front of it, a warm, familiar voice rang through the cold air.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" I turned with a start, wand drawn. Once I saw who was speaking to me, it clattered to the floor. "Professor Fig?" I croaked. His pale ghostly form stood just a few feet in front of me. Well, hovered, not stood. "Yes, my young friend." I apologize I didn't present myself to you sooner, but I wanted to speak to you here. I enlisted the help of some friends to get you here." His voice was just as comforting as I remembered. Suddenly, Samantha and Professor Hecat's words all made sense. "I'm sorry, Professor." I tried to force down the lump in my throat. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." I fell to the ground, and six months of emotions poured out of my eyes. I felt him kneel beside me. Even as a ghost, he felt warm. "Do not burden yourself with this shame my friend. It is not your fault." His tone was reassuring. "But if I did more, if I tried harder.." I choked through sobs. "Maybe you'd still be here." I looked at him, and saw him smile. "My dear, young friend. You are stronger than you know. You saved so many souls. Do you know why some of us become ghosts?" He mused. I gathered myself. "Yes, when we have unfinished things that our souls cling to after death. Like that poor chap who has to run away from his wife, the one with the ax." I couldn't help but chuckle. "Precisely, and do you know why it is that I am here before you?" He asked, in that very professor-ly tone. "I can't say I do sir." He responded before I could even get the words out. "You, my dear MC." he said lovingly. "Me?" I sniffed. "Yes." he chuckled. "I never told you how much you meant to me. I had may students over many years. None like you." "What none of them could wield an ancient and powerful magic?" I joked. "Of course not, but that's not what I mean. You were more than just a student to me. You were my friend, and my adventure companion. You constantly were impressing me, not only with your magical abilities, but your kindness, cleverness, and incredible sense of love for the world." He stopped abruptly, as though he was swallowing his own lump in his throat. "Miriam's death left me devastated and alone. This pain I shoved deep down, but it still seemed to leave me a tad bitter. Once you came along, however, I found myself laughing and smiling once again. Miriam truly would have loved you, my friend. As I did." I looked at his face, and saw tears streaming down his cheeks. "If I may, you were a son to me. And I am beyond proud of you. You will change the world." As soon as he ended his sentence, a brilliant yellow light filled the room. I shielded my eyes, and saw a figure emerging out of the brilliant golden aura. A short, older witch with a straw hat and half-moon glasses. She had an infectious smile and the kindest eyes I'd ever seen. Miriam. I saw Professor Fig rise to meet her, and take her hand. "I have said what I needed to say. Good luck, my young, capable friend." with that, he turned and entered the light, hand in hand with his beloved. "Now I shall rest." The light faded. I laughed to myself, and wiped the dried tears from my cheeks. "Yeah, me too Professor." and rest I did. The best sleep I'd had in a very long time.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy oc #professor fig #x reader #y/n #male mc #wizarding world #ravenclaw #gryffindor #hufflepuff #slytherin #harry potter #hogwarts #hogwarts houses #harry potter universe

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crimsonkenjii-writes · 3 months

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okay after that tag game I can’t help but think about my faves as cats. I need to ramble now.

Giyuu: cute all black cat. Hair on the longish side, but surprisingly easy to care for. He’s an overall chill cat. Maybe a little too chill. Sometimes you really wander what’s going on in his head, he’s been staring at that same spot on the wall for a hour now. Not amused much by toys. Will go crazy for crinkly ones but gets of them quite easily and just paws at it gently instead of flinging it across the room and chasing after it like he was moments ago. Occasionally gets him stuck in places he can’t get himself out of. He was just curious. And now regrets it. Seems almost humanly embarrassed whenever you gotta help him out. He loves sitting on your lap and chest. He’ll knead your chest too. Always wants to be near you and see what you’re doing. He will follow you into the bathroom. NO closed doors in this household. He’ll press his nose against the door and meow so loud and sad until you open it up. His meow quickly turning cute and innocent.

Aki: Little brat tbh LMAO. All black short hair cat. He’s a petty ass cat. He will knock your water off your table if you fed him two minutes late. Loves cuddles though, so clingy. Has a real nice loud and deep purr. Looovvesss scritches on the chin, he does the whole eye squint and pushing his head out to get more. He’ll knead on you too. He don’t care, he wanna use your thigh, even if you didn’t cut his claws yet. He’s finally being affectionate, you gotta smile through the pain. He only wants attention once HE demands it. He’s the cuddliest thing when he approaches you first. But you see him sitting all cute in his tower and want to come up and pet him?? WHACK. He likes to sleep in bed with you every night though. And he INSISTS on sharing your pillow. If it snows where you live, he likes to watch the snowflakes through the window. He’ll walk around in the snow if you put him out there but he’s doing the whole one step *shake foot* one step *shake foot* and that’s about all he’ll do. He’s (slowly) walking back into the house. Jumps on your shoulder and watches you cook.

Kento: one of them fancy spotted ones. I’ll look up the specifies later. Idk what kinds of temperaments those kinds of cats would have. But this is Kento energy now so it don’t matter bc I said so. He’s the most easy going cat anybody would ever own. He’s why the stereotype of cats being “fully independent pets” came from. Barely vocal, he’s a very quiet cat. He’ll only speak once it’s getting close to his feeding time. You always feed him at 6pm?? He’s meowing politely and sitting patiently at his bowl at exactly 5:50 to remind you it’s almost time to feed him and to not be late. Just about as affectionate as Aki. He needs his alone time, and will come to you when he’s craving cuddles again. Has a real deep purr, low and sometimes you either gotta feel him or lean in close to hear his purrs. He always smells so good, he doesn’t really get stinky. He will clean himself after you kiss him lolol. He likes sitting on your lap. He’s also ALWAYS curious about what your cookin. He never wants to eat any of the food you give him to sniff, he simply just wants to sniff and watch lolol.

Shouta: such a sassy cat. Definitely a stray you randomly just came home with one day with no preparation whatsoever. Very very recluses cat. Doesn’t like hugs, doesn’t like being held. Doesn’t like being groomed bc it goes into being man handled. Such a soft little baby once he starts to warm up to you though (which definitely takes a while). Softly nudges your arm with his face, looking at you with big sad eyes bc he wants pets lolol. He never sits on top of you either, he’ll always be touching but never on top. When he does, it’s RARE!!! Maybe once a year. And it will be your chest when you’re sleeping lolol. Snooziest cat, he doesn’t like toys, he almost looks like he finds them ridiculous. Old man in a cats body. WILL make himself comfy. Bought him a bed? Nah, your blanket and pillows are better.

#I am too lazy to edit any of this #so take my raw thoughts #as you can see I’m crazy #about my faves and cats #crimsonkenjii rambles

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veeveex3 · 2 years

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Sleepover with the Freshmen (+ Ortho)

idk I just think it'd be cute to see all the freshmen + yuu and grim have a litol slumber party, a slumbie if you will (also fun(?) fact: I've never had a slumber party before so idk why I'm making this lolol)

Time at Night Raven College is fun: you get to do alchemy, learn about history and subjects that aren't from your world, and most important of all, you got to make cool new friends! However, being that NRC is a school, it does get pretty stressful. So to cope with all the work you have on top of the work that Crowley dumps onto you, you decide to host a sleepover with all of your friends from your grade!

NRC Prefect: Hey, are you guys busy this weekend?

xXAce42069Xx: nah not rly y?

DeuceCaboose: Didn't you say we were gonna study over the weekend???

xXAce42069Xx: eh we can study after class on a weekday lol

Jack H.: You wanna do anything over the weekend prefect?

Epel: I can ask Vil if I can come over if we're gonna do a group study

NRC Prefect: I was thinking more we can just have a slumber party or something...

0RTH0 (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧: That sounds like fun! (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Sebek Zigvolt: I propose that we instead focus on our studies instead of shirking them for a "slumber party".

xXAce42069Xx: lmaooooo whyd you say it like that

Sebek Zigvolt: I haven't a clue what you mean, Ace.

DeuceCaboose: Have you ever been to a slumber party Sebek?

Sebek Zigvolt: No, but I vaguely know of them. That's not the point, though!

0RTH0 (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧: Now that I think about it, I don't remember having a sleepover before either! (⁠･⁠o⁠･⁠;⁠)⁠

Epel: I've had a couple before. They're a whole buncha fun!

Jack H.: ^ Plus if we're hanging out over the whole weekend, we can also use this time to study too

xXAce42069Xx: boring... why cant we just have a slumber party or whatever??

DeuceCaboose: Well we need to study at some point yknow

NRC Prefect: Yeah, I like that idea!

Nrc Prefect: So, is Ace the only one against this?

DeuceCaboose: Yeah

Jack H.: Probably

Epel: Yup

0RTH0 (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧: It appears so. (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

Sebek Zigvolt: As long as we schedule time for our academics, I don't have much issue.

NRC Prefect: So Ace, are you with us or not?

xXAce42069Xx: fine... ig so

NRC Prefect: Great, see you guys then!

Ace Trappola:

He mainly came along so that he wouldn't have to study at Heartslabyul with Riddle

And also to spend time with his best friends but he'd never admit that

Cater lends him a couple card games so that you all can play during the sleepover

Other than that, he doesn't bring much else other than his pajamas, sleeping bag, phone, and homework (forced to bring)

His pajamas consist of a white t-shirt and some heart patterned pants

Doesn't wear socks to bed

Once everyone's in their pajamas, Ace immediately tries to distract everyone from their work

He tries to start a bunch of card games, asks for more snacks, and is the one to start a pillow fight

Once the next day comes though, everyone ignores him so they can get their work done, all to varying degrees of success

Is used to sleeping up late so he's the last person to go to bed

Sleeps all sprawled out, accidentally kicking Deuce, who's right next to him

Deuce Spade:

Deuce is genuinely excited for this little sleepover

Not only does he get to do the studying he was planning on doing anyways, but he also gets to hangout with his friends and potentially learn a bit from them!

Definitely honor student behavior

Trey asks him to give you some cookies for you all to share, as a treat

In comparison to Ace, Deuce over packs rather than under packing, likely since he's basically packing for the two of them

Deuce's pajamas are a set with a cotton shirt and shorts, both with spade patterns

Wears fuzzy navy blue socks his mom got him (won't say this in front of Ace in fear of being teased)

Deuce tries to balance his work time and fun time, but gets easily swept up in whatever shenanigans Ace is pulling

Accidentally throws a pillow too hard and ends up knocking a painting off the wall (in which he apologizes for after)

Like Ace, he's used to staying up late but tries to go to bed at a reasonable hour

Sleeps on his tummy and occasionally kicks too, mainly because Ace keeps kicking back

Jack Howl:

He's had a couple slumber parties in his youth and is honestly glad to have another with his new friends

Also wouldn't admit to it

Leona gives him some money just in case you all decide to order dinner for the sleepover

With the exception of the dinner money and some protein powder packets, he packs pretty light, only taking what he needs like toiletries and his homework

Jack wears a dark green tank top with a wolf design on the back and some striped shorts as pajamas

Also doesn't wear socks to bed but at least he covers his feet

Tries to get his work done before doing anything fun, which is hard considering he goes to bed really early

So instead he just spends the night having fun and promises to work extra hard the next day

Gets pretty sleepy from staying up past his bed time, being the first to go to sleep if it wasn't for Sebek

Sleeps curled up holding his tail and tries to hide it under his blanket

Epel Felmier:

Every month, Epel, Vil, and Rook have their own little spa day, so Epel just sees this as a less intense spa day (don't ask how a spa day can be intense they just are for Epel)

Vil gave him a couple scented tea lights to give out as thank you gifts for everyone while Rook gave a couple fashion magazines to read during the sleepover

In addition to these gifts, Epel, reluctantly, packs a lot more than he usually would due to all of the toiletries and nutrition supplements he has to take

Epel's pajamas are a light purple, fuzzy long sleeved set with has apples on the front of the shirt and on the pants pockets

Not only does Epel have matching fuzzy purple socks, he also has a fuzzy eye mask too, courtesy of Vil

More prone to playing and getting off task than some of the other boys

Has a lot of fun during the pillow fight even though he's just smacking people with a pillow

Stays up until all of the fun dies down and then tucks himself into bed

Sleeps on his side, occasionally tossing and turning

Ortho Shroud:

Given he's a robot, he thought he wouldn't be able to participate in the sleepover unlike his peers

Luckily, his friends still wanna have fun with him regardless and obviously let him come

Idia gave him a board game to play so that him and his friends don't get board (teehee)

Given that Ortho is incredibly complex, he has to pack pretty heavily for things such as his charger and any spart parts he may need

He can't really wear pajamas but has a dark blue blanket Idia made for him with small light blue flames

Probably sets aside his feet when sleeping so that they take up less space

Ortho is a good student, so he starts studying pretty quickly to get it out of the way

After that, he's able to play with his friends and launch pillows at them (gently of course)

Has a set bedtime that he has to shut down by, but since Idia stays up really late, that bedtime is also pretty late into the night

He sleeps straight on his back, using his wireless charger pad as a pillow and covering himself with his blanket

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek honestly isn't used to being apart from Malleus and gets embarrassingly anxious when he's apart from him and Lilia

However, the both of them encouraged him to socialize and spend time with people his age other than Silver

Malleus give him a novel to read before bed just in case he has trouble sleeping Lilia also gave him some food to share but Silver luckily took care of that

Given how overly cautious he is, Sebek over packs a lot, bringing a lot of comfort items as well as a lot more toiletries than he needs

Sebek wears very classic button up pajamas with a small lighting bolt pattern on them

Wears normal socks to bed and like Epel, has a matching eye mask with a little night cap too

The most reluctant to slack off, insisting to use this time to further their academic and magical studies

However, he gets jealous from all the fun everyone else is having and joins in under the excuse that he was already distracted

He won't admit it, but he really enjoys spending bonding time with his friends

Like Jack, he also has an early bedtime and sticks to it more than Jack does, mainly out of habit and sleepiness

He sleeps on his back holding his blanket while sleep talking surprisingly quietly

Bonus Grim!:

Didn't ask to be a part of the slumber party nor was he invited, but came anyways since the two of you are basically a buy one, get one free special

Since he's a cat monster, he doesn't wear any jammies but he does have a little blankie he sleeps with every night

You have to move him out of the living room so that everyone can get their fair share of snacks and dinner

Tries to get involved in the pillow fight but he has little fucking kitty arms so he can't really throw lol

Cuddles next to you with his blankie to sleep (which would be nice if he didn't snore so loud)

Wakes you up in the middle of the night for a sippy of water too

#twisted wonderland #twst #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #ortho shroud #sebek zigvolt

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rfaromance · 1 year

Note

You're telling me Yoosung has to make eye contact with A KOMAEDA BODY PILLOW?

Sometimes when he stays up too late gaming and crawls into bed, he sees Komaeda staring at him from the dark corners of his room and screams his head off.

Yoosung doesn't get much sleep on those nights, and we can't entirely blame LOLOL. (I, too, would scream if Komaeda popped out of my closet unexpectedly.)

#anon #yoosung kim #thanks for the ask!

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irisintheafterglow · 9 months

Note

iris!! i am coming here with soft, cold pillows and warm socks for the comfiest sleep ever!!! ☁️🧦 i hope you’re having the loveliest weekend so far 🥺

i am so curious (again!!! if this isn’t too private…🤭), between you and shouto who is the blanket hogger? who runs colder? warmer? 🥺 who tucks their cold feet underneath the other?

sel i'm not even going to lie to you i run so warm all the time that it's ridiculous. during the summer i need the ac in our dorm to be super low or else i'm just walking around sweating everywhere 💀💀 but during the winter i think he would be the blanket hogger and then i would just hog,,,, him and his warm side lolol

i like the picture of being under the blankets with him but not being warm enough so you just mutter sleepily like

"babe."

"mmm?"

"warmer."

"mhmm."

and then he warms up his side and AAAAAAAAA anyways

i am sending you so much love and hugs !!!! thank you for dropping by !!!!!

#ask iris!

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boyfhee · 2 years

Text

GET TO KNOW ME GAME !

tagged by · @dearhee

tagging · @koishua @yujipg @amakumos literally don't have anyone to tag 🤣 just do this even if ur name isn't here

birthday: 25th may, i wish i shared it w someone

favourite colour: rose gold, gray rose / gray lavender, ice blue

do you have pets? no, but i do have a stray cat i feed and she basically lives in my backyard

how tall are you? no

how many pairs of shoes do you own? 😵‍💫 around 20

favourite song: sherlock ( oceanfromtheblue ) 긴밤 ( seori ft GIRIBOY ) mimi ( youra ) by my side ( junny ) i have so many help

favourite movie: interstellar, literally the best thing ever directed. also, these are not movies but 2521 ( kor. ) first love ( jap. ) threads our tapestry of love ( jap. )

who would be your ideal partner? lee heeseung yeah, he is the standard. but fr i like people who i can communicate with easily, without much issues ( i mean, we can understand each other ) the main thing i look for is probably, how they are under pressure or how they deal with things / serious things. this is very important to me because i need that person to be there when we're going through something so it's really important that they don't avoid problems ( besides, people like that annoy me help ) also someone who's fun but is also smart ? like, we can joke around and also discuss about something academic, it's fun. i mean i love to talk about interests and how things work, everything logical. i also like pretty ppl and heeseung is very, very pretty.

do you want children? ok i'm gonna be honest. like a few years ago, i was so against it, but now, i can consider. i mean, i'm not saying i will have kids in future, but i can consider. i can at least adopt one so yeah, can consider.

have you gotten in trouble with the law? no

what colour socks are you wearing? i don't wear socks off season ( no one here does )

favourite type of music: classical, but most recently added is krnb

how many pillows do you sleep with? one

what position do you sleep in? straight ?? it's good for posture

what don’t you like when you’re sleeping: noise. loud music, or talking too much. u want to talk, go do it somewhere i am not sleeping

what do you have for breakfast: fruits / fruit juice, milk ( with toast, optional ) on school days. when i'm home, i usually have a bowl of fruits with coffee ( odd choice, i know, but it really gets me through next 5-6 hours that are very crucial )

have you ever tried archery? except in amusement parks, no

favourite fruit: guavas, grapes, kiwis, bananas

are you a good liar? very, very good liar

what’s your personality type? intj, i like being smart fr

innie or outie? former

left handed or right handed? ambidextrous hehe i can write + draw with both hands ( love me for that )

favourite food: we have these dishes called pav bhaji & idli sambhar, honestly heaven

favourite foreign food: pasta ( creme cheese one especially )

am i clean or messy? both, more on the clean side

most used phrase: innit, "just like me fr," at the most random times, "help me" as a way to express delight "sweetheart," to call my friends help does that count?

how long does it take for you to get ready: 20 minutes, at most. i don't use makeup except eyeliner & gloss but even if i opt for anything more like blush or eyeshadow, it takes 30, at most

do you talk to yourself? it's a coping mechanism

do you sing to yourself? all the time

are you a good singer? i think? i mean, i passed 2 rounds of sm global auditions so that says something

biggest fear? yk deep water? where you aren't able to see anything except pure darkness? the eerie feeling it carries? that. it's not a phobia, but it's to the point that i get scared even by looking at it in pictures so i avoid those

are you a gossip? we all are, to an extent

do you like long or short hair? medium to long

favourite school subject: science, biology specifically ( zoology, in that ) and that's why im pursuing med lolol, also i love english, engineering graphics and math minus commercial mathematics and trig

extrovert or introvert: introvert but i talk quite a lot when i'm with family or with close friends ( the classic, yk )

what makes you nervous: doing something for the first time, going to a place i've never been, MAKING SPECIMEN SLIDES i swear i've spent my highschool years making microscope slides but it never fails to make me nervous like what !! if !! there's !! an !! air bubble !! v good at it but i still have tendencies to mess up

who was your first real crush? this guy from tenth grade, we went to a competition together from school and got lost in the city so ig that's where my feelings originated from

how many piercings? 2

how many tattoos? none

how fast can you run? idk bro but it's pretty decent

what colour is your hair? black

what colour are your eyes? black

what makes you angry: when i can't do something that i know i can do ( like when i mess up a painting, or some questions ) people who think they're entitled to everything, people who talk shit behind others ( i mean we all do that, but like, i dislike ppl who use others and then talk behind their back ) people who avoid responsibilities, PEOPLE WHO ARE CRUEL WITH ANIMALS i swear if u dont treat animals nicely you will have a miserable life

do you like your name? definitely

do you want a boy or a girl as a child? can't pick

what are your strengths? i am very, very calculative so i make decisions i do not regret ( slay ) my determination is through the roof, i've been told that i'm eloquent & clear with agenda which is such a plus point for me, i have experience with tons of things ( science, math, art & painting, music, dance, basketball, volleyball, swimming, cricket, badminton, chess, baking, finance, coding & computer science, writing, tutoring, public speaking, basically everything that my parents ever made me learn plus it's v fun tbh ) i can adapt quickly, i am amazing memorizing skills, quick learner

what are your weaknesses? i know i sound like im bragging in prev question, but i have so many weaknesses to cover my strengths up . major one being finding it hard to concentrate and staying motivated, getting things done on time, my laziness god i am so lazy. it's super hard for me to build a habit and ever harder to get rid of one, i can't cook for the life in me and i have so much trouble trying to mix up with new people

what is the colour of your bedspread? teal

colour of your room: one wall is pink while rest 3 are off white

#—games.#help this is so long

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biohazard-inevitable · 2 years

Note

2, 5, 7 for the selfship game

Hi hi hi hello!!!!! Thank you so much for the ask, since you didnt soecify character I’m just gonna default to my main himbo Greed for the andwers lolol.

2. Does your F/O let you have independence and wait for you to come to them when something is wrong, or are they always checking in while concerned for your wellbeing?

Greed is always checking in as he’s highly protective and posessive and he knows that often times i will overlook signs of burnout or push aside my emotions to serve others and hes highly tuned into when I’m getting tired socially and start to push myself too far and always follows up with an “are you sure?” When i say im fine and if there is any hesitation in my answer he basically shuts me up and gives me all the self care I need.

5. Do you and your F/O sleep together at night? Is there a specific sleeping arrangement? Who hogs the blankets and pillows?

Usually, I cannot sleep in the same room with someone due to my paranoia and discomfort, but Greed is the only one who is able to get past that and often times ive fallen asleep in his arms, often draping myself over him so i can feel the rise and fall of his chest while i cling to him like a koala. We never really have issues with hogging the blanket cause we overlap on each other and have big blankets, but i do like to be coccooned with him more often than not, especially with a weighted blanket making me feel safe.

7. What is the ideal date night for you and your f/o?

Honestly, any time we spend with each other is always ideal and every second we spend together could be considered a date

#greed beloved❤️#f/o post #ask game answers #thank you for the ask!!!!!#f/o Community #ask game #f/o ask game

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yesitsmewhataboutit · 2 years

Text

Wind

Tom Holland x Pregnant!Reader

You go on set with Tom, both of you thinking it’s harmless, but technically it’s not the safest place you could be while your 8 months pregnant

Warning⚠️: this not like regular ones reader doesn’t have the baby after getting hurt, Tom has a panic attack

»»——⍟——««A/n: wellll am I back? Idk tbh. I just felt like actually sitting down and writing something real not just the little bits lolol. Maybe I’m back maybe this was just a adrenaline rush but hey enjoy hehe

Masterlist

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ Requests open　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶

It's perfect. That's the only way you could describe it. There's nothing better than this moment. If someone you're close to asked where your favorite place was, no hesitation, you'd say laying in Tom's arm. Call it corny, cringe, cliche, but it was true.

That fact only grows when you're pregnant. Now, you're pregnant with Tom's babies, twins, and that only makes you love being around him more. Some girls want their space when they're pregnant, but not you, not at all. You usually want to be around Tom as much as possible, and it only doubles when you're pregnant.

Tom knows. He's used to it by now. The first time you got pregnant, he noticed the way you were clingier. Not that he minded. He loved holding you and having his arms around you any time, so no big deal.

Now that you're pregnant again, he knows what to expect. He knows that as it goes on and you get more uncomfortable, he has to be around as much as possible, knowing he's the only thing that keeps you sane and happy while you're uncomfortable in your own skin.

Some days are better than others, but it's tricky, especially since Tom has to be on set. After you passed around five months, it got worse. He always tries to slip away when he can, leaving you things you need in the bedroom, wanting you to stay in bed as long as you can and not move around too much. Tom leaves you pillows and snacks, plus his hoodie so you can cuddle your big pillow and pretend he's there.

The one thing that was always extra ticky was sleep. No matter how much you'd lay on Tom's hoodie and cuddle with his pillow or how long you'd lay still in bed during the day, you can't sleep without him. During the earlier stages of your pregnancy, you'd trick yourself and act like he was there, napping during the day and being fine while he's gone, but that only lasts so long.

You're eight months pregnant now, and some days you almost can't bare him not being home. It made it that much worse that he had to leave early, and no matter how careful he was trying to remove himself from bed, you always woke up. You woke up, and you couldn't get back to sleep without him, leaving you in bed for the rest of the day, missing him.

Part of you did feel bad. Bad that you're so dependent on him, but the feeling always went away with how caring he'd be. Tom never complained, and he always found a way to help you however he could. Any time he did that, it'd make you so happy, and you wouldn't think about the slight guilt. He loved doing it anyway, so there was no reason to feel guilty.

Today is another regular day. Tom's alarm went off at 6 am, making him wake up and quickly turn it off, then look at you, who's curled up against him. He put his arm back where it was, laid across you, his hand on your swollen stomach, his thumb slowly rubbing circles, a small smile spreading across his lips.

He takes a few minutes, staying in that position and savoring the moment. Your back is against his chest, his other arm under your pillow, and your hands curled around his hand that peeks from under the pillow, both of you in a bubble of warmth and tranquility.

Then the moment he dreaded, after stretching the time as much as he could, Tom knew he had to get up. Slowly, he lifted the arm that laid on top of you, meanwhile trying to slide back and remove his body from yours.

To no use, tho, the very second his warmth left yours, you stirred awake, immediately knowing he was about to leave and not wanting it, turning around and trying to get him to stay.

"Tommy, no, no, stay! Please, stay," you whined. Your voice sounded broken and tired from sleep.

If you didn't sound so sad, Tom could've almost laughed at how you awkwardly tried to curl your body around his, trying to cling to him to make him stay. It is pretty impossible cause of your big stomach.

"M'sorry, Love. You know I have to go," he said, his voice also still thick with sleep. He brings his hand up and rubs your arm, looking into your pleading eyes.

"No, not today, just today, please. Don't want you to go," you pouted, still trying to lean into Tom, getting frustrated at how your stomach was preventing it.

Tom takes note, trying to think of a solution, not wanting you to be upset this early in the day. "Hold on, Love," he says. "Cmere." Tom turns you on your back, settling down on his side, curling his arms around you, pulling you sideways into his chest. "Better?" he asks, making you nod, tired pout still on your face. He thought for a moment, trying to come up with the best solution, only coming up with a single one that he wasn't super fond of, but it was the only thing his morning brain could come up with at the second.

"Alright, how about this; how about you come on set with me today?"

"Really?" your eyes light up at the thought.

"Yeah... I mean, as long as you promise to stay safe, I'm sure just one time won't be too bad," he smiles at you.

Tom, in general, is very protective, meaning he'd barely let you out of the house without him, not wanting something to happen to you or now your babies. In Tom's mind, there were plenty of things that could go wrong bringing you on set, but it's either that or leave you unhappy at home all day, and stress is bad for you right now plus, what's the odds something will happen anyway?

After you agreed, he called his manager, telling him he'll be a little late today, giving you time to take your time and get ready, plus time for you to wait for Tom's mom to come to pick up Mya, you and Tom's three-year-old, as she usually does every day to watch her while Tom is away.

Two hours later, you're on set.

"You sure about this, Love? I don't mind driving you back home if you like?" Tom says as you walk away from the car, starting to have his doubts.

"Yes, Tom," you smile. "You know I love watching you film anyways."

He can't help but smile, leaning to give you a kiss on your forehead as he slips his hand into yours and head closer.

You follow Tom as he gets ready in Hair & Makeup, then heads to his trailer to change. Pretty much everyone knew you, and you had fun seeing everyone again. Mostly, while Tom gets ready, you're sitting a few feet from him, out of the way, and just watching. Occasionally someone will say hi, but mostly everyone focused on other stuff.

Eventually, it's time to start filming. You and Tom walk to where he's supposed to be, him showing you and place you can sit and watch. It all goes smoothly. You smile as you watch Tom's scenes, even though you know little about what's going on, and you, every once in a while, will snack on the snacks you brought that are in your backpack.

At one point, they need to film scenes inside one of the set buildings. Everyone makes their way inside, Tom stopping to check on you for a few minutes before getting in his position.

The show Tom's filming is known for great CGI. Part of that reason is the custom big wing canon they use. When it's turned on, not only does it make it look like the wind hit Tom, but a lot of the time, it's powerful enough to make other things move, making it all look natural and less pressure on the CGI editing.

There's no way to know what it was about today. Everything was the same as any other day. The prop placement. The canon placement. There's no reason for any of it to change. Yet, that doesn't change the fact that when the wind canon gets turned on, and they started filming, all the wind and things moving, nobody could've predicted one of the prop rocks would go flying from its place.

Directly toward where you're sitting.

You didn't see it coming. You didn't have time to see it coming. Tom barely saw it coming, only noticed by the side of his eye how one object, compared to everything else, flew out into your general direction, making his heart immediately stop. His head snaps toward you, watching just in time as it hits you, sending you flying out of your chair and to the ground.

Most the things on set aren't real, the rocks and cars. Anything and everything around is for show, but it also needs to look like it's not fake. Soft, light prop rocks aren't going to pass.

It hit you right in the chest, and you were immediately unconscious. When Tom saw you not moving, he froze. Everything around him was too much. His lungs felt heavy, his throat felt dry, and he couldn't yell. Everything was within seconds, but he was the quickest to react, well, try to react. At first, he couldn't do anything, but a scream of your name eventually erupted from his throat.

For the scene he's doing, he was standing on a high-up ledge, also attached to a harness so he won't fall. Because of that, when he tries to jump and lung down to you, he can't. Instead, he's stuck dangling mid-air and strangling to get out of the harness, all while screaming your name.

Y/n!? Y/n! Are you ok? Y/n!"

"Tom. Tom! Calm down, stop moving so we can get you down!" Henry, the director, says. "Marcus, help Tom down, and Harmony call an ambulance for Mrs. Holland." Everyone scatters at the directions. Some go to kneel at your side, trying to be of any help.

Tom has to swallow his instincts and stay still so Marcus can control the harness strings and let him down. The second, Tom's feet are on (somewhat) stable ground, back where he started on the ledge he's pulling, tugging at the harness and throwing it away from him.

If this wasn't a terrible situation, and Tom focused on you, he would've stopped and been excited about the flip and sticking the landing off the 20-foot-high ledge he was standing on.

Once he's on the ground, he runs to you, trying not to trip over his feet, pushing the people around you out of the way, and gets by your side. His throat is dry again, mouth open, but nothing comes out. Tom's eyes wide, hands shaking as they ghost over your body. His gaze focuses on the small trail of blood going down your forehead. That's when his whole body starts shaking.

His vision goes blurry, and he doesn't know what to do. He starts hyperventilating. He feels like there's too much air in his lungs, but at the same time, he can't breathe. Everyone around you notices when he starts panicking, and they try to help, but it's too no use. He can't hear anyone or see their attempts. He only sees you.

In Tom's eyes, there's no telling how much time went by before he feels his body get pulled to the side and sees medics next to you. There are two more medics, one by him and one asking what happened. He still can't feel anything, numbness spreading around his whole body. He's unable to acknowledge the medic next to him, trying to ask if he's ok or needs assistance.

It doesn't take long for the medic to pick up on his incoherent state, his breathing uneven, and the crazed look on his face. The medic calls for an oxygen mask, quickly taking it and putting it over Tom's face.

It does help a little, making Tom come back to reality the slightest amount, enough for him to see the other medics get you on a gurney and wheel you toward the ambulance.

That makes Tom stand up, pulling the mask off his face and ignoring the calls from people around him, telling him to wait. He follows them, watching as they get inside the ambulance and close the door. And everything goes black.

Tom wakes up in a hospital bed. White walls and the sound of a beeping heart monitor. It takes him a second, but everything comes flooding back, and suddenly he's trying to get up, to get to you.

"Woah! Woah, Woah, mate! Settle down, settle down," Harry urges, getting up from his seat and standing next to Tom's bed.

'Y-Y/n- she- where-" Tom pants, unable to finish one sentence before starting another.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's ok, mate, she's fine."

Tom hears what he says, but something in him still can't fully comprehend it, and e continues to struggle and try to get up. "Tom, dude, stop, or they'll have to sedate you again," Harry chuckles, putting his hand on Tom's shoulder, wanting to keep him down.

"She's ok?" Tom asks, still now fully there.

"Yes. Y/n is ok, and the babies are ok.

"Wan' see her."

"Tom-"

"Please- mate, please," Tom whines, not caring how pathetic he sounds.

Harry sighs in defeat. Henry called Harry to meet Tom at the hospital to tell him what happened and when he arrived, the doctors said Tom had a panic attack, plus his oxygen levels went down. He'd be pretty out of it for a while.

Harry knew it probably wasn't the best idea to get Tom out of his bed, but he also knew Tom wouldn't stop until he saw you.

It takes a few minutes, but he finds a wheelchair and wheels Tom to your room. He wheels him next to you and leaves for you two to have time.

Seeing you brings him to reality just a little. You're still unconscious, and you have a heart monitor hooked up, but other than that, you look fine.

At that moment, exhaustion hits Tom like a truck. The full extent of the day's activities really come flooding in, and he's tired, incredibly tired. All he can do is smile, seeing with his own eyes that you're ok. He slides one hand and rests it on top of your stomach, sliding his other into your limp one, then just rests his head on the side of your bed, his eyes immediately shutting.

Masterlist

Ahem: @scandescent @tomhollandfics

@mcushvft @lnmp89

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fluff #tom holland x pregnant!reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x black!reader #tom holland

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mackenzielovee · 2 years

Text

letters to you: three - rafe cameron

summary: routines aren't meant to be followed, they're meant to be broken

warnings: swearing, mentions of cigarette smoking

wc: 4.5k

a/n: apologies in advance for the cliffhanger, but part 4 will be up sooner than you think so don't be mad! lolol let me know what you think of this and thank you for reading and supporting! xo

series masterlist

Y/N,

Are you trying to kill me? Never in a million years would I have pegged you as the type of girl that sends pictures. Especially to a guy you hardly know. Especially, especially to me. Not that I’m not appreciative. I definitely, completely, totally appreciate that picture. I have been trying to find the right word, an adjective, that would do you justice. It’s impossible. Most people have seven wonders of the world. I now have eight.

The cookies were great. I finished them off last night. I will definitely require more the next time you’re home. Do you have any idea when that will be?

I understand how you feel a little bit. The island’s too small to not feel suffocating occasionally. Especially with everyone knowing everyone’s business all the time. Nosy bitches.

And, just so you know, it wasn’t just because we were talking about books. Talking to you made me feel like I finally have a place on the island again. You just had to go back to college. (I’m joking).

Thank you for the copy of A Sicilian Romance. I started it before I started writing to you. I’m saving my thoughts for when I finish it.

I didn’t celebrate New Year’s. Well, that’s not entirely true. I watched Casablanca on my couch and ate five of your cookies. Then, I finished the book I’d been reading and fell asleep by eleven. Exciting, I know. That being said, no, I didn’t have a New Year’s kiss. I would ask if you did, but I think I wouldn’t like the answer. Don’t tell me. Besides, running around in that dress? I bet you had seventeen New Year’s kisses.

P.S – Stop telling me to not feel pressure to write back. If anyone doesn’t write back, it will be you.

Rafe

“Emma!” you scream from your bedroom.

It’s January third; proving to you that Rafe had received your letter, written back, and mailed it all in one day. If not for the pit of anxiety in your stomach, you’re sure you would have positive thoughts about that.

It’s another rainy day, calling for an afternoon nap. Classes start Monday, so Emma’s been sleeping as much as she can knowing the next four months will be very lacking in that department. You, however, do not care about that right now. You bust into her room and turn on every light she has just to spite her.

“What?” she groans, burying her face in her pillow.

“Wake up,” you demand.

One of her eyes pops open to look at you, and when she sees Rafe’s letter resting in your right hand, your grip careful not to wrinkle it, she grins. Her attempt to hide her smile with the comforter fails.

“He liked the picture?”

“He–” you start, then groan and try again, “I–”

Words are failing you. She just laughs and turns over on her back, finally opening both of her eyes.

You glare at her, hoping she gets your message.

“When did you even put that in the envelope?” you whine.

“Right before I told you to seal it. Honestly, it was a little too easy–”

“Emma,” you stop her, “I told you I wasn’t going to send him that picture. He barely knows me, he probably thinks it’s weird that I’m sending him photos of me in the mail–”

“Did he say that?” she questions, sitting up in her bed.

“No, but–”

“What did he say?”

You pull the letter behind your back, wanting Rafe’s words to stay between the two of you. You can feel your body heat up just at the thought of them, and with one look, you know Emma can see right through you.

“He said I looked nice,” you say quietly.

She hikes up a brow, “Nice?”

“Yes, nice. What’s wrong with that?”

She laughs loudly and grabs one of her throw pillows, launching it at you. She watches you avoid it, then send a glare in her direction.

“Nice is what you say when you compliment your mom on Christmas Eve,” she says, “Nice is what you call a guy you don’t want to go out with anymore. Nice is not what you say in response to that picture.”

“Well,” you just shrug, avoiding her eyes.

Because you’re not looking at her, you fail to see her launch herself at you until it’s too late. She’s got you on the ground and removes the letter from your grasp before you can even think.

“Emma!” you groan, fighting to get her off of you.

“Shh,” she hushes, her eyes scanning rapidly across the page, “Holy shit! Who the hell is this guy?”

“Emma!” you shout, trying to tell her you’re serious.

“‘Talking to you made me feel like I have a place on the island again’, Jesus, Y/N, this shit is what gets you all hot and bothered?”

Her words do you in. You shove her off of you and grab the letter back from her, folding it up and shoving it in the back pocket of your shorts so she can’t even consider finishing reading. She frowns at the serious look on your face.

“Stop it,” you snap, inching toward the door, “You don’t even know him.”

You walk out of her bedroom and into the hall, not expecting her to follow you and definitely not expecting her to raise her voice.

“Neither do you!” she exclaims, “Why are you getting so defensive over some guy you barely know–”

“I don’t know!” you yell back at her, exhaling loudly when you see her chest deflate.

The anger leaves both of you at the same time; Emma’s eyes soften and she takes a step forward, holding her hand out for you to take.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I shouldn’t have meddled in it.”

You want to swallow your question, but you know that Emma knows you better than anyone, so you ask it anyway.

“Why did you?”

“Because it’s obvious he means something to you. I’ve never seen you fall for a guy before. You’re usually so sensible, so independent, that seeing you freak out over a letter kind of shocked me. And I know how much it would suck for you if it turns out that this whole writing letters thing means more to you than it does to him. I sent the picture to gauge his reaction to it, to see if he’s just trying to get in your pants or whatever. His response, while a bit pretentious and a little cheesy, isn’t necessarily top of the list for douchebags.”

She says this with a sad smile and cheer, one that makes you laugh despite the circumstances. You press your lips in a tight line, not sure if you should deny or confirm that you have feelings involved.

“And,” she continues, “It seems like he might be just as invested. You’re his eighth wonder of the world, Y/N.”

She’s teasing you now, watching and laughing when you roll your eyes. The letter suddenly feels heavy in your pocket and you have every desire to write him back just as quickly as he wrote you.

“So, what are you saying? Do I keep writing or run away?”

She takes a moment, considering her answer.

“Proceed with caution.”

Rafe,

My roommate snuck that photo in the envelope before I mailed it. I didn’t know it was in there. You would’ve been right with your initial assumption, I didn’t plan on sending you that picture. I appreciate your words, but you don’t have to exaggerate for my sake. I don’t normally wear stuff like that.

I have no idea when I will be back in the Outer Banks. Things with my parents make it really hard to come back, no matter how much I will need a break from this place once my classes start up on Monday. I could always mail you a batch next time I make them here. I’m glad you liked them so much.

You always have had a place on the island. Just because that place may have changed doesn’t mean it’s gone forever. But I’m glad that it meant something to you, too.

Your New Year’s celebration sounds much better than mine. I’m not a big drinker so I never really enjoy New Year’s Eve the way other people do. However, I’m never hung over on New Year’s Day, so I guess I enjoy that part more than they do. I love Casablanca. And I didn’t have seventeen New Year’s kisses.

Hope things are well.

Talk soon,

Y/N

Checking the mail every day quickly becomes routine for you. You grin when you arrive home on Saturday to find that Emma set Rafe’s newest letter on the shelf by the door for you. You’d written to him on Thursday, and he amazes you with how fast he writes and mails his responses.

Emma emerges from her room when she hears you come in, her gaze following yours to the white envelope.

“A new letter from lover boy?” she grins, “Maybe one day you two will graduate to using phones.”

Emma’s observations about your unusual arrangement have you questioning it, only for a moment. Should you be talking on the phone? Do the letters mean that he wants to keep this entire thing private?

“Should we be?” you ask.

She shrugs, fishing around the fridge for a water bottle, “I don’t know. I’ve never had a guy write me letters before. They normally just send me a text at two in the morning asking if I’m up.”

“How do you think people had relationships before technology?” you question.

She rolls her eyes, “I’m just saying. And I thought you said it wasn’t a relationship.”

“It’s not.”

When she turns, her eyebrow is raised so high on her forehead it runs the risk of sliding off completely.

“So, you’re saying you don’t want it to go anywhere? You’re just gonna write letters to him for the rest of your life?”

You just shrug, shrinking back a little at her words, “I don’t know. I really don’t know what I want. I don’t know what he wants.”

“You know what you want, Y/N,” her shoulders fall in disbelief as she stares at you, “You reread his letters, like, four times after you get them. You check our mailbox like a mad woman, and your entire body goes hot at the mention of his name.”

You can feel the warmth spreading through your body as you lie, “No, it doesn’t.”

She rolls her eyes again and reaches out, pressing her hand to your neck.

“You’re fucking burning up,” she replies, “Ask him for his number. Talk to him on the phone. Have phone sex, I don’t know. Writing to him won’t get you anywhere.”

She leaves the kitchen before you have time to argue, and instead, you hurry off to your room to open his letter. It soothes the worries and the insecurity that Emma’s words brought out.

Y/N,

Please send my deepest thanks to your roommate. I know this year just started, but that picture made the entirety of it. Believe me, I didn’t say anything that I didn’t mean. Although, I don’t know if I said it outright in my last letter, so I’ll say it now. You’re beautiful, Y/N. I’m sorry if someone ever made you feel like you’re not.

Even more than that, your mind is beautiful, too. Why do you think I followed you out of the Christmas party that night? Initially, it was because you looked so beautiful. I stayed out there with you because I was amazed at how brilliant you are. And you don’t even know it. How crazy is that?

I started off this letter pretty strong. I would apologize, but I’m not sorry. These are things you should know.

I don’t know how to ask about your parents without asking if things are okay, which they’re obviously not, because you’d come home if they were. I know your brilliant mind could come up with a way to articulate this question I’m trying to ask, and I’m also sure you know what I’m trying to say. If you want to talk about it, nobody will ever see your letters but me. I promise. However, I have to deny your proposal to mail the cookies. I need them fresh. I counter with this: when you need a break from school and you want to come home, you can always come to my apartment. I have a kitchen where you can bake and a guest room you can stay in if you don’t want to see your parents. This is just an offer. You don’t have to take me up on it. But I hope you think about it.

I love Casablanca, too. I’ve watched it every New Year’s Eve for the past ten years or so. I refuse to watch it otherwise. It’s a weird thing I have. Maybe next year, we can watch it and refrain from alcohol together. I’m relieved to hear you didn’t have seventeen New Year’s kisses. I’m hating the one you did have, though. I’m sure that drunk asshole has no idea just how lucky he was.

Sorry this was a bit long. Good luck with school on Monday.

Sincerely,

Rafe

You beat Emma home from class on Monday. You only have two classes on Mondays and Wednesdays – both back to back so you’re done with your day by one in the afternoon. You put your kettle on the stove to heat up, then collect a piece of paper and a pen from your bedroom to settle in to write to Rafe in the living room.

After everything Emma’s had to say about the letters – good and bad – you can’t help but feel a little insecure about this entire thing with Rafe. What does he want out of this? Is he writing just to be nice? Are you? Does he wonder where this is going to go?

You write his name at the top of the page and then move down to the next line, but no words come out. You consider telling him about your first day of classes, but you’re not sure he would care about that. For reference, you pull his last letter out of your back pocket and read over it again. It’s quickly become your favorite because of the way he talks about your beauty and your mind. Nobody’s ever told you anything like that before. Especially not in a handwritten letter like this.

He offered you his apartment. His kitchen. His space. Then, he proposed to spend the next New Years with you. So, maybe, he is thinking about the future.

Or maybe he’s just being nice.

The kettle whistling on the stove causes you to jump in your seat, and when you realize the noise, you toss your pen down and get up to remove it from the heat.

Once you have your tea in a mug, you attempt to write again.

Rafe,

Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me. I’ve thought a lot about them in the past few days. I’ve even reread them a few times. Okay, many times. So, I guess it’s only fair if I tell you that I enjoyed looking at you that night, too. More than that, I enjoyed talking to you. Getting your perspective and countering it with my own. I like how different we are. It makes the similarities more noticeable.

My parents need a divorce. I’ve never told anyone that before. They need one, but as you know, people don’t get divorced on the Eight. It’s a status thing, I guess? They think I don’t notice the tension and the separation, but I do. I think that they think I’m still a kid. That sucks. Thank you for offering to listen to me talk about it. They wouldn’t want this to get out.

I appreciate your offer but I wouldn’t want to impose on you like that. My “brilliant” brain considers all possible outcomes when invited into a man’s home – especially one she hardly knows. Not that I think you’d harm me, but you know. Every woman has to keep that in mind at least, right?

How did your Casablanca tradition start? I would love to know more about it. If we’re better acquainted by next New Years, I’d be honored to watch it with you and bake.

Take care,

Y/N

Right as you sign your name to the bottom of it, you hear Emma’s key in the lock of the front door. Quickly, you fold the sheet of paper up and slide it into your envelope, then tuck the envelope under your leg on your seat. You’ll address it and mail it tomorrow. With half a second to spare, Emma comes bolting into the apartment, backpack slung lazily over her shoulder and sunglasses still covering her eyes.

“Well,” she sighs the second she sees you, “That fucking sucked. But on the bright side, one of my professors is hot as hell. That will make it increasingly hard to concentrate. But, hey, who needs to pay attention in Gender Analytics anyway?”

She laughs at herself, tossing her backpack onto the floor and pushing her sunglasses on top of her head. You smile and sip from your tea.

“It was our last first day,” you remind her.

She grins, “Always looking at the bright side, aren’t you, miss thing? Water in here still warm?”

She points to the kettle and watches you nod. Emma grabs a mug from the counter and prepares her own tea, then steps to the opposite side of the counter as you two continue to speak.

“How were your classes?” she asks.

“Enlightening,” you tease, “No, it was all introductions and syllabus stuff. We won’t get into the real stuff until Wednesday.”

She nods, “Same here. Oh my gosh, I ran into Ethan and Chris on campus. He asked if I wanted to go out Friday night and I was trying to play hard to get, but you know how I am with him.”

You do. For a girl who claims to be so independent; majoring in Gender Studies and always ranting about men versus women, she gives into Ethan with a snap of her fingers.

“I do,” you nod, ushering her to continue.

“Then, Chris asked if you would come out, because then he would, too, so I said yes!”

She’s cheering, but you’re not quite sure why. You shift in your seat, feeling the paper of the envelope scrape along the bottom of your thigh.

“Why? I don’t want to go out,” you sigh.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like we’re going to study anything, and Chris seems interested. I mean, shit, Y/N, you can’t just bottle yourself up in our apartment and write letters to some guy–”

“Will you stop bringing Rafe up every chance you get?” you say, raising your voice slightly.

“When was the last time you gave a guy a chance?” she snaps back, “Besides Rafe Cameron. Chris is the first dude I’ve seen you look at twice in, like, a year. You even let him kiss you on New Year’s Eve!”

“I was drunk,” you defend.

“You were tipsy,” she corrects, “And it’s not like he took advantage of you.”

“Let me ask you something,” you stand from the chair, the envelope falling to the floor, “If you’re so against Rafe, why did you put that picture in the envelope right after New Years?”

“I’m not against it, babe,” she says, stepping forward to hold her hand out to you, “I’m just concerned. I don’t want you putting all your eggs in one basket. Especially with a guy who lives in the city you’ve been wanting to get away from. You can’t blame me for being hesitant when I’ve never even met the guy, can you?”

You sigh and squeeze her hand, letting your eyes flutter closed only for a moment.

“No, I guess not,” you mumble, “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, but me not wanting to go out Friday night has nothing to do with Rafe. I just don’t want to pursue anything with Chris.”

“You don’t want to pursue sex?” she raises an eyebrow.

You wince but cover it by shifting your entire body away from her, letting your hand fall to your side. To distract yourself, you bend down to pick up the letter you’d finished writing to Rafe. She watches but doesn’t verbally acknowledge it.

“No,” you reply.

She watches as you reach for the white wine bottle above the fridge and pour out a glass, taking hefty sips as you think about this conversation.

“Fine,” she shrugs, “I just think you deserve more than sitting in our apartment alone on Friday night watching Golden Girls reruns and writing letters to a guy you met once.”

You don’t respond to that, mostly because you have no argument. Her words, although harsh, are true. And you have no rebuttal against the truth.

Emma takes her tea and walks out of the kitchen, leaving you with your thoughts and your half empty wine glass.

You mailed your letter Tuesday, and now, settling into the couch on Friday evening, you’ve heard nothing from Rafe. You try not to let it bother you, but you don’t fail to notice how that white wine bottle joins you on the couch. After a glass and a half, you start to feel a little better.

Emma emerges from her bedroom in a crop top and black jeans, makeup all done and hair up in a high ponytail. She looks absolutely stunning, and you tell her so.

“Why thank you, sweet roommate,” she grins, doing a twirl for you.

Emma grabs a white claw from the fridge and joins you in the living room, downing about half of it before she informs you that she’s waiting on the boys to arrive.

“Have you gotten another letter?”

You suck in a deep breath, fearing her response if you tell her the truth. She’ll be nice and promise you a response is coming, but you know she’ll drunkenly tell someone – or you – later, that she’s sad that you’re sad, and that Rafe isn’t worth staying home on a perfectly fine Friday night.

“No,” you tell her, pressing your wine glass to your lips once more.

“Aw, Y/N,” she says with a sympathetic smile, “Don’t worry. You’ll get a letter tomorrow, I’m sure.”

You just nod, then give her a smile. The wine fills your mouth and burns your throat slightly as you swallow, but you’re sure that has more to do with your insecurities than it does with the wine.

Ethan and Christian arrive a few minutes later, prompting Emma to finish her white claw and toss the can before opening the door for them. Ethan greets her with a kiss as she invites both of them inside, dragging them into the kitchen to pregame.

“Y/N’s watching Golden Girls,” she informs them, “Beer, E?”

Ethan nods and yells his greeting to you, which makes you smile. Ethan, while loud and obnoxious when drunk, is always so polite and attentive when it comes to saying hello to you. Christian grabs himself a beer, then makes his way into the living room.

“Drink?” he asks you from the threshold of the room.

You shake your head and point to the wine bottle on the coffee table in front of you. He just nods, then awkwardly takes a seat in the armchair beside the couch. It’s the same position both of you sat in the first time you met, and yet, you’d just prefer for him to leave.

“So, you’re not going out with us tonight?” he tries, lifting his beer to his lips.

“No, I just wanted some time alone,” you reply.

He nods, “I get that. Ethan kind of dragged me out.”

“I’m sorry,” you say shyly, knowing how he feels. He just laughs and shrugs, then sips more beer from his can.

Ethan and Emma stumble into the living room, already looking drunk on the alcohol and each other. Ethan’s grip on Emma is firm, but not in a possessive way. It’s to keep her from falling, which you’re sure will be necessary at some point tonight.

“Y/N, you sure you’re okay here?” Emma asks, pouting at the thought of leaving you alone.

“I’m fine, I promise,” you say.

She nods, then tugs the collar of Christian’s shirt to get him to stand. It seems to be her silent way of telling him it’s time to leave.

“You still have my debit card in your Apple wallet?” she questions you as she downs a shot Ethan handed off to her.

“I do.”

“Good,” she nods, making a face as the liquor goes down, “Order Uber Eats or something. On me. I want you to have a good night, too, babe.”

You smile and stand up, giving her a hug. She squeezes you tight, every protective instinct wanting to come out at the thought of leaving you alone.

“Be safe, be careful,” you remind her, raising an eyebrow at Ethan to tell him to keep her out of trouble.

“Yes ma’am,” Emma grins.

She reaches for Ethan’s hand and lets him lead her toward the front door, Christian trailing behind them.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says quietly.

“Goodnight,” you answer.

“Love you!” Emma calls as Ethan guides her out the front door.

“Love you, too,” you reply, “Call me if you need a ride.”

Emma starts to respond but the door closes before she can, and you walk over to lock it behind them. It’s rounding the corner to nine at night, and the thought of lighting a candle, having a glass of wine, and watching your favorite TV makes your heart swell in your chest.

You do just that, lighting up your favorite candle and placing it on the coffee table beside your wine bottle. You cover yourself with a blanket and get to that sweet spot on the couch – the one that makes you never want to get up. Just as you’re truly cuddled in, happy with your wine, your candle, and your TV, there’s a knock on the front door. You groan and pause your episode, telling yourself Emma probably forgot her keys or phone or Ethan decided he wanted another shot before he had to pay for them at the bar.

Swinging open the front door, everything hits you at once. The fact that you’re in pajama shorts and an old Metallica shirt of your dad’s, the vision of him and your brain processing if it’s real, the smell of cigarette smoke and whiskey – faint, but present, and the ever so tangible idea that you have the apartment to yourself until about three in the morning.

“Hey,” he smirks, taking in your outfit before he holds up a white envelope between his fingers, cigarette hanging effortlessly from his pink lips, “Figured I’d save the post office some trouble and deliver this one myself.”

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angeladore · 2 years

Text

💌 comfort after a nightmare

「 now playing.. ☊︎ 」

▹ genre: comfort

▹ pairing: Mammon x GN!MC

▹ note: this was written around 2 am please ignore any mistakes lolol

The past few nights you’ve been experiencing nightmares, sleeping on your own without any comfort wasn’t helping. Luckily for you Mammon had invited you to his room for the night & you had gladly accepted it. You’ve never told anyone about your nightmares, thinking they would go away soon or later but they had kept popping up every time you rested.

You put on some comfortable pajamas that he had gifted you and made your way towards Mammon’s room, bringing a extra blanket since it was cold that night. Knocking, you waited until he had opened the door a few moments briefly after he had swung open the door and invited you in, shutting it behind you as you came into his room.

It wasn’t long before you also gave into the much needed rest, sinking your head into his pillow. The dream was normal at first, you were happy at that but later on it turned creepy. It felt almost realistic, the monster staring down at you with it’s many eyes, arms longer then its torso came up towards your face and grabbed it. For a second you couldn’t tell if it was real or not because you had felt it.

You started to panic and shake, still in your sleep Mammon had woken up to hear your shaky breaths & he started to panic as well. He sat up still half asleep, slowly shaking you to wake you up. You slowly woke up, still startled you stared into his dark blue/gold eyes they had always brought comfort to you on your worst moments of life.

“Hey r’ya okay?..” he asks as he slowly pulls you into a hug, and careful not to startle you. You cling onto him, digging your head into his chest. “It was another stupid nightmare..” you murmured to him.

“Another? And you never even told me about them?! Damnit MC i’m supposed to protect ya and make sure you feel safe!” He hugs you even tighter, laying back down & pulling you closer to him. He smelt like his cologne he always uses & he was warm. “Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay for this time, but make sure in the future ya tell me alright?” He kisses your forehead, and puts one hand around your head almost cradling it as if you were about to disappear at any moment. “I love ya MC..” he says before he falls asleep.

“I love you too Mammon.” and with that you fell asleep, this time the nightmares had vanished completely whenever you were with him.

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sarasapen · 2 years

Text

What The Moon Knows

Under Coruscant’s moonlight, attraction blooms. Slowly, but surely, it takes root, until it can no longer be deniable. Let it never be said that Obi-Wan has ever let such feelings overwhelm him.

In other words, Obi-Wan starts finding his student and close friend attractive.

EDIT: IN CASE IT WASNT CLEAR, THIS IS A PART OF THE LITTLE ONE UNIVERSE LOLOL SORRY I FORGOT TO MENTION

---------

There is no life without death.

There is no love without hate.

There is no light without dark.

And therefore there is no moon without the bittersweet musings of those beneath it.

It’s his body that knows before his mind does.

It’s his body that feels the dip of the mattress, his body that turns in response, his body that spreads his arms and creates a space between them. It is only half a minute later, when he finally manages to blink away sleep for just long enough to form a thought, that his mind catches up.

“Nightmare?” Obi-Wan rasps, gently scraping his nails against the back of his padawan’s head. He doesn’t know what time it is, or what day of the week. All he knows is the one in his arms.

“Of my mother,” Anakin croaks, and Obi-Wan pulls him closer, pulls the boy- because that’s what he is, even though he’s taller than him, even though he’s more powerful in the Force, Anakin is just a boy- he pulls the boy into his chest, where he can hear the steady ba-dump. ba-dump. ba-dump. of Obi-Wan’s heart.

The boy takes in a shuddering breath, once, twice, three times, and then his body relaxes, and after a long moment, Obi-Wan lets his eyes close.

It’s his body that knows before his mind does.

Slivers of moonlight flit between the blinds of his window.

It’s his body that feels the dip of the mattress.

Between the streams of silver-grey light are patches of endless dark.

His body that turns in response.

Outside the window, too, is dark.

His body that spreads his arms and creates a space between them.

Above all the dark, is the moon, ever-watching, ever-seeing.

It is only half a minute later, when he finally manages to blink away sleep for just long enough to form a thought, that his mind catches up.

It is the moon’s light that bathes his room in serenity.

“Nightmare?” Obi-Wan rasps, gently scraping his nails against the back of his padawan’s head. He doesn’t know what time it is, or what day of the week. All he knows is the one in his arms.

“You’re so warm,” you sigh, already half-asleep again. Obi-Wan makes a sound at the back of his throat, tilting his head up slightly so you don’t bump into his chin. He closes his eyes…

“Master,” you say.

“Mm?” He grunts, eyes closed. He inhales, exhales, sinks a little deeper into the pillow.

“Master?” He hears, and Obi-Wan makes a startled half-snore half-gasp and blinks, frowning at the shadow on the wall from the half-closed blinds. His vision focuses slightly, the blinds flutter, more moonlight streams through.

“You say something?” He asks, nuzzling his nose into your hair, inhaling slowly and smiling. His eyes are closed. He inhales, exhales, the tension leaves his body.

“Obi?” He hears, small and quiet, and he pulls back, blinking harshly to force himself awake. The shadow on the wall is longer now. He shuffles back slightly. Not too much, his legs still intertwined with yours, his arms still around your body, but he gently pulls at your chin to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

Your own eyes are closed, breaths coming in shallow puffs through parted lips. Your eyebrows draw together and a whine begins in your throat, so Obi-Wan drags his hand down and smooths it gently over your neck.

“I have you,” He whispers, so softly he’s not sure if he actually spoke or if his sleep-addled mind imagined it. His fingers rest against your pulse point, steady, soothing, and he feels his eyes close again.

His hand drags up again, reason unknown to his mind. It’s always his body that seems to know first. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and he presses his forehead to yours.

It would be so easy to kiss you.

And perhaps that was the start.

—————

It doesn’t happen overnight.

Or it does.

It doesn’t. Maybe it’s a mix of both.

Obi-Wan is neither stupid nor blind. It’s been several years since others your age have begun to express interest. He’s sometimes seen the looks that linger just a little too long from other Padawans. He knows your smile is pretty; how couldn’t he? When he’s been the lucky recipient of so many.

Halfway into your Padawan training, Obi-Wan is already well aware that you’re attractive. That isn’t to say he’s attracted to you; no, not at all. You’re young, naive and childish, because you are, still, a child. He gives plenty of not-so-subtle lectures on propriety and modesty and the Jedi Way, lectures that had your face burning as you squirmed deeper into the sofa as if it would take pity on you and swallow you whole. Sometimes Anakin would join, snickering from wherever he was perched, glad to finally see someone else go through the mortification he once did.

Another occurrence happens shortly after you’re old enough to drink. Somewhere in the heart of Coruscant’s nightlife, far beyond the reaches of any natural light, four force-sensitives sit at a bar. There’s an empty shot glass in front of you, and you’re grimacing as you swallow, not at all impressed by the taste.

The girl behind you is awfully impressed by your vibe as Ahsoka had once said, and asks you if you want to dance.

There’s another lecture waiting for once you get back to the temple.

“You flirt on missions all the time,” Anakin says oh so helpfully, and Obi-Wan watches your eyes peek over a pillow, cheeks flushed.

“That’s different,” Obi-Wan says, even as he briefly considers what it would be like, flirting with you.

—————

Perhaps it truly doesn’t happen overnight.

Obi-Wan is sat in front of some younglings, crowding around him for answers to questions he’s answered a dozen times over, and he’ll answer a dozen more. You’re seated in the far corner of the room, a stuffed bantha in one arm and a toddler in your other.

The crèche masters that watch over this particular group had all gotten a nasty case of the flu, and you were quick to offer up help.

When he feels a sudden surge of soft affection through your bond, Obi-Wan looks up, taking in your easy smile. The little Pantoran in your lap tugs gently at your Padawan braid, and you softly coax her attention away with stories of A Nice Bantha from Far Away.

Not for the first time, Obi-Wan muses at how well you’ve always managed younglings.

For the first time, Obi-Wan’s thoughts stray to what a good parent you could have been if you lived a life away from the Order; he thinks of you, with your own child in your arms, smiling at them with the sweet smile you often give him. It’s a fantasy that does not play out in his mind for much longer than a few seconds, for his attention is called away by the hoard of excited children.

In the future flashes of quick daydreams, it escapes his notice that the child in your arms, no matter their age, no matter their gender, always had hair his colour.

It is not something he ever notices.

At least, consciously.

—————

Dreams.

A dream is a succession of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations that usually occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep.

Involuntarily.

Obi-Wan ignores the glaring sign in his mind saying but you’re a Jedi. Dreams are different, for Jedi.

How else could he explain the dream he had of kissing you? How else could he explain the way your skin felt against his, the way you tilted into him, the way your hairdo didn’t sport a Padawan braid anymore?

It was just what it was. An involuntary culmination of things he already knew. That you were attractive, that you had a nice smile, that your training was ending soon.

It was not, it absolutely was not a vision. He could not let himself hope.

The only thing more dangerous than fear, something the Jedi rarely addressed, was hope.

It’s his body that knows before his mind does.

“Nightmare?” Obi-Wan rasps, fighting the sudden, hazy feeling of déjà vu, despite his heart telling him it’s something completely different.

It’s only when skin touches bare skin that his mind finally catches on.

He’s shirtless- he’s realising that now. It was a decision he made a few hours ago, and it was entirely consensual and entirely innocent. Coruscant’s sun had a cycle that expelled a flurry of solar flares every two and a bit Coruscanti years, resulting in a heatwave that lasted no more than two weeks. While not dangerous to inhabitants, the entirety of Coruscant seemed to quiet in those weeks, trade become all but nonexistent for a few blissful moments of silence.

Now, however, when Obi-Wan’s hand comes into contact with a very much completely bare thigh- the situation no longer feels innocent nor consensual.

“Room was stuffy,” comes a muffled response, and Obi-Wan trails his gaze over what was your own choice of pyjamas for the night- an oversized shirt and what he hopes to all the stars above is a pair of tiny shorts and not-

Force guide him.

His Padawan, the beautiful thing, seems to decide at that moment to nuzzle against him, your nose rubbing delicately at the space between his collarbones. A body shifts, Obi-Wan isn’t sure who’s, but then his arm is securely around your waist and back and your leg has nudged its way between his.

You press closer then; this much Obi-Wan is sure is your own doing, but if it is your body or your mind that is taking the lead here, he chooses not to consider. Your lips ghost over his skin as you slowly tilt your head up, nosing against his throat. Obi-Wan remains deathly still as you shift and squirm and wriggle until you’re comfortable, which means now that your face is tucked right up against him. He can feel each of your breaths, he can smell the scent of your shampoo, he can feel your arm curl around his own bare waist.

“Hm,” you say sleepily, and Obi-Wan thinks he could kiss you right now.

He could so easily do so much more than kiss you-

It is then that Obi-Wan accepts that he simply cannot deny it anymore- he finds his Padawan attractive.

He knows you are attractive, in the simply objective sense of knowing, as he knows the sun is hot.

But this- this is akin to standing in the open sands of Tatooine, the glaring sun beating down on him, his robes half-drenched and the other half abandoned on the ground, being fully and completely surrounded and overwhelmed by hot.

And so there Obi-Wan Kenobi is, attracted to his Padawan. He finds you attractive-you attract him. You are lovely, in every sense of the word, and beautiful- oh, how beautiful. He knows this now, he feels this now, with every breath he takes.

But attraction is fleeting.

Attraction is oftentimes out of one’s control.

Obi-Wan has been attracted to several people over the course of his life, and it has never been a subject of shame, to him. Why should something be a source of shame, when it is out of one’s control?

Obi-Wan was even, at one point, years ago now, briefly attracted to Master Luminara, and he is fairly certain she returned the sentiment. Now she was nothing more than a friend, an acquaintance really, one he respected and thought well of, and he had honestly forgotten about his previous attraction until this moment.

He would meditate then, Obi-Wan decides. Obi-Wan already meditated before bed, a daily routine of his. Now he would meditate in the mornings, before he was privy to the way your lips curled when you smiled. He would meditate after breakfast, and try to forget the absolutely endearing way you’d scrunch your nose up in the early hours without realising it. He would find time to slip away during the day to mediate if only to get the sound of your laughter out of his mind. If you proved to be a distraction, he would meditate several times a day if that’s what it took-

Obi-Wan had a foolproof plan. His attraction to his Padawan would wane with time, he was sure of it. In five years, he wouldn’t even remember this, it would be a little chapter of his life that was simply inconsequential to his story.

He wakes up once again, finds a girl curled up in his bed, and he curls into her, holds her against him. Then he slips away, onto the tiny open fire escape of his room. He sits on the floor, tilts his head up to face the cool night breeze and allow the lights of Coruscant’s never sleeping night-life wash over his face.

The moon, large and imposing against a black backdrop, stares down at him. He stares back.

“It will wane with time,” He says firmly, forcing himself into meditation.

-and oh, how did the frequency of Obi-Wan’s meditations grow.

—————

the end?

As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts! Hope all of you are well <3

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