#like... six out of these ten hours were actual travel time

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start a Family (Extra: Sickfic Part 1)

Summary: Y/N gets sick and Mitch, Sarah, and Harry take turns doting on her.

Previous Chapters: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

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Grabbing extra blankets, you bundle deep under the covers of your otherwise empty bed. You hope that your cats will join you soon so you’re not completely alone.

It’s not like you have other people in bed with you every single night. Since you started dating Mitch and Sarah earlier in the year, and added Harry to the relationship three months prior, you’ve spent a decent amount of time alone. One might think that wouldn’t be the case with two boyfriends and a girlfriend, but they’re busy people.

Harry has been writing his next album, traveling twice for writing retreats with his collaborators to minimize distractions. On top of that he’s had meetings, photoshoots, and other projects that require him to be away from you for days at a time.

Meanwhile, Mitch’s album had dropped just a couple weeks prior, and he and Sarah were busy promoting that.

All in all, you were very used to sleeping alone. But for some reason you were really missing them tonight. They had all been home for just three days before they had to fly out to Los Angeles to prepare and rehearse for Harryween.

It had been a somewhat last-minute decision to actually do Harryween this year, since tour had ended a few months before. But the venue was open and most of the band was available, and they knew tickets would sell out immediately, so they decided to pull the trigger and go for it.

That meant that they needed to fit in all of the prep work the week right before Halloween, leaving you alone at home for days. They had left Sunday morning, and since it’s now Tuesday, it’s your third night without them.

You only need to make it until Thursday, and Mitch will be back for a couple of meetings, and then you’ll fly to LA with him for the two shows at the start of the following week.

Knowing that it’s only two more lonesome nights would normally help you, but for some reason you just feel so alone tonight. The bed feels too big and empty and cold. You are cold, freezing, bone deep cold. It isn’t even that chilly out, a mild fall evening.

It’s early to get in bed, not even 9 PM, but you feel exhausted. You wish you could just call them, but you know with the 3-hour time difference that they’re definitely still rehearsing, probably not even taking their dinner break for another hour.

You settle for playing their music, your go to when you just need to hear their voices to feel them close to you. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep.

The blaring alarm wakes you the next morning, and even though you slept over nine hours, you’re still tired. You go to say good morning to the cats who joined you at some point in the night, and your voice comes out groggy. You clear your throat which only leads to a coughing fit. It doesn’t last long, and you’re fine while you get ready for work, so you figure it was probably just a tickle and not a big deal.

Wednesday is the same as Tuesday, most of your days truly blending together. You take a bath after dinner, hoping it will help the new aches in your joints that bothered you all afternoon, and you nearly fall asleep in the water. If it weren’t for your phone ringing, you definitely would have been out cold within a minute.

You dry your hands and grab the phone, checking who it is before answering.

“Hello,” you say, and notice your voice once again sounds a little rough.

“Hi love,” Sarah replies. “I’ve only got a minute, but I wanted to check in. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“What are you up to?”

“Decided to relax tonight, currently taking a bath.”

“Is that so? Wish we could facetime,” Sarah says cheekily.

You laugh at how forward she can sometimes be and reply, “Get your mind out of the gutter Jones!”

“I know, I just wish I could see my beautiful girl.” You blush at these words as she continues, “How are you? You sound a little hoarse.”

“Yea, I’m okay. Not sure why I sound like this. It happened this morning and just came back. Maybe it’s allergies, the ragweed is pretty bad this time of year.”

“Okay, well just let me know if you get worse. Maybe do a covid test to be safe?”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll do one in the morning before Mitch comes home. Last thing I want is to spread something to you guys before the shows next week.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she reassures. “But always good to check.”

You’re about to ask how she and the others are doing, see if she could put Harry and Mitch on the call for a minute but before you can ask, she says, “Oh, I’ve got to go, we’re starting again. There’s a new transition that we’re struggling with a bit, so we’ve got to work on that more.”

“You guys will get it, you’re the most talented band out there.”

“Thank you, my love. Sleep well tonight, let me know how you’re feeling in the morning.”

“I will keep you posted. I love you.”

“I love you too. Good night.”

“Good night,” you say, and the call is ended.

You sit for a moment, your apartment feeling extra quiet again. It takes all of your energy to get out of the tub and finish getting ready for bed. It’s difficult to adjust to the cool air after the hot bath, and you quickly burrow into the pile of blankets you left on the bed, sighing in relief at the warmth they offer. Like the previous night you play music and immediately fall asleep.

The alarm is even louder than usual the next morning, and it hurts to open your eyes. You go to sit up and realize that everything in your body hurts. You take a deep breath to collect yourself, but that has the opposite effect. The second you breathe in you begin to cough, and it feels like minutes pass before you get it under control.

Forcing yourself out of bed you remember the conversation with Sarah the previous night and decide the first thing to do is take a covid test. You do that and as you wait the 15 minutes for the result you make a cup of tea and get dressed. You’re not sure yet if you’re going to call out sick. As a nanny to a toddler, the last thing you want to do is go to work sick and pass it on to the child. You choose to wait for the test results before deciding.

The timer goes off and you see that it’s negative. You call Beth, the mom you work for, and fill her in, letting her decide if she’s comfortable with you being around her son that day.

After telling her your symptoms she says, “I’m okay with you being around Ryan, but if you’re not feeling well, you should stay home. Take a sick day and rest. I know it’s exhausting taking care of a toddler when you’re not under the weather, and much worse when you are.”

“I’m really not that bad,” you reply. It’s not a complete lie, you already feel slightly better than when you first got up. You had taken a pain reliever and it was helping your achy joints, plus you had only had one more minor coughing fit. You assure Beth that you’re well enough to work and that you’ll see her soon.

She fusses over you slightly when you get to her house, mothering you a bit to make sure you’re not worse than you say you are.

“Call me if you need anything. I can get a substitute or Michael can work from home and watch Ryan.”

“I will, I promise,” you say, locking the door behind her as she leaves.

You feel fine all morning, nothing more than a slight cough. Ryan takes an excellent nap halfway through the day, and you make the mistake of laying on the couch during it. The baby monitor is right next to you, ensuring that you’ll hear Ryan when he wakes up, and the white noise coming through the monitor lulls you into a light sleep.

Beth has told you before that it’s okay if you rest while he’s napping but you normally never do. Today though, you can’t fight it and your eyes slip shut.

After nearly three hours Ryan’s babbling wakes you up. It’s immediately obvious that your short nap was a bad idea, and you feel awful as you get off of the couch. Checking the time, you note that Beth will be home in two hours and tell yourself you can push through to the end of the day, maybe with a little help from Bluey.

You’re relieved when Beth walks through the door, having gotten worse throughout the afternoon. She again dotes on you as only a mother can and tells you to take off the next day. You try to protest, since you’re already planning to be out for days the following week to travel to LA, but she won’t hear it.

“I will see you next Thursday. Not tomorrow. Rest. Get better so you can enjoy your boyfriend’s show.”

You smile and thank her before driving home. The second you enter your apartment you take off your shoes and climb into your bed. You don’t realize that you’ve fallen asleep until you jerk awake hearing the door open. You’re confused, and worried that someone is breaking in, but a moment later you hear Mitch calling out your name.

You try to shout out to him and let him know where you are, but as soon as you open your mouth you begin to cough. It’s even worse than the fit you’d had in the morning and Mitch rushes into the room, immediately rubbing your back to soothe you.

Finally, you start to catch your breath and you turn, curling into Mitch’s embrace as he wraps his arms around you.

 “What’s wrong baby? Sarah said you didn’t sound great last night but this is worse than I expected.”

“It wasn’t this bad yesterday. It wasn’t even this bad when I got home earlier. I feel like shit.”

“What do you need?” he asks.

“I don’t know. This is helping though,” you say referring to him holding you. He squeezes you tighter for a moment and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

For a few minutes you stay like this until another coughing fit wracks your body. Mitch again rubs your back, his touch calming you even as you struggle to breathe. When you’re done coughing, he shifts so he can get off of the bed.

“Don’t leave, please,” you say, grabbing on to him.

“I just want to check if you have any medicine, I’ll be right back.”

“Please,” you say, refusing to let go if his arm. Deep down you know that you’re being clingy, but you can’t bring yourself to care in that moment.

“Okay, c’mere,” he says and gestures for you to wrap your limbs around him. Once you’re secure he carries you with him to the bathroom and places you down on the closed toilet lid. He opens the closet door and takes out the box of different medications you have in there.

“Have you taken anything yet?” he asks.

“I took some Tylenol earlier today, but it’s been a while.”

“Nothing for the cough?”

“No, it really wasn’t that bad before.”

“Okay, here, take this,” he says, handing you the small cup filled with cough syrup. You do as you’re told and he takes out the thermometer, holding it up to your head.

It beeps a moment later and he says, “Definitely a low-grade fever. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had the chills, and I guess body aches.”

“Alright, you said it’s been a while since you had Tylenol?”

“Yea, I only took it this morning.”

“Here’s another dose, it’ll help with everything else.”

You take the medicine as instructed, too tired to even think and grateful that you have someone there to tell you what you need to do.

“Have you eaten today?” Mitch asks.

“Yea, I had a sandwich for lunch,” you answer.

“But no dinner?”

You shake your head no.

“Okay,” he replies. “I’m going to heat up some soup for us. Do you want to wait in bed or come with me?”

“With you,” you reply, holding out your arms so he’ll carry you again. He smiles at how adorable sick you is, and he picks you up with ease, loving having you in his arms.

He places you on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island and you rest your head on your arms as he gets food ready. Normally you’d be asking him how his flight was, how rehearsals had been going all week, but instead you just rest your eyes, comforted by the sounds of another person in the apartment with you for the first time in days.

A few minutes later Mitch places a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of you. He sits on the stool next to yours with his own bowl and puts a sleeve of crackers between you two. You lift your head up and thank him before starting to eat. You’re feeling a little better now that the medicine has had time to work, and you’re able to finish your dinner.

As soon as you and Mitch are both done eating you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Bedtime?” he asks, and you nod your head yes.

He cleans up the dishes and the two of you head to the bathroom to get ready. You lean against Mitch as you brush your teeth, too tired to stand on your own. He keeps a firm arm around you, making sure you don’t fall, and leads you into the bedroom.

Once you’re both in bed you immediately move to lay on top of him, needing to be as close as possible.

“Is this okay?” you ask, and he replies, “Of course, baby. I’ve missed my human blanket.”

You smile and melt into the embrace, his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safer and more content than you have in days. It doesn’t take long before you once again fall into a deep sleep.

Mitch, however, stays awake for some time after you. It’s still fairly early, especially since he’s on west coast time. Once he’s sure you’re asleep he pulls out his phone, careful not to disturb you with his movement.

He sends a text in his group chat with Sarah and Harry, telling them about how sick you are. It’s obvious how worried they are in their replies and Mitch assures them that he plans to take you to the doctor in the morning if you’re not feeling better.

The moment he wakes up the next day he can tell something is wrong. He feels like he’s in an oven and he immediately realizes the heat is coming off of your body as you lay sprawled on him. Carefully he reaches over to the side table and picks up the thermometer to see what your temperature is.

He grimaces as it beeps loudly in the quiet room, but you remain asleep. He checks what it says and grows more worried. While yesterday you had a mild fever, it’s much higher now. Just as he puts the thermometer back down you suddenly wake up coughing.

Mitch helps you sit upright so you can breathe easier, and after it passes he hands you a glass of water, encouraging you to take small sips.

Your whole body is aching, and a violent shiver shoots through you.

“Baby, I think you should get checked by someone today, okay?”

You want to refuse, saying it’s not that bad, but you don’t have the energy to fight so you simply nod to agree.

The start of the morning is hazy. You and Mitch shower together so he can help you and make sure you don’t slip in your weakened state. You get dressed and throw your damp hair up into a bun and join Mitch in the kitchen for breakfast. A shower and food have done you some good, and you’re feeling more alert. You make an appointment with a doctor, happy to see an opening in just an hour.

Mitch insists on cancelling his morning meeting to go with you, but you tell him you’ll be fine. He concedes by just pushing it back a little bit so that he can drive you to your appointment.

As he drops you off he tells you for the hundredth time to text him with updates and let him know when you need to be picked up, reassuring you that he can leave his meeting if he needs to.

“I’ll be okay Mitch. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. I have for a while now.”

“I know you can, I just- we all just like to take care of you.”

“And I love that about the three of you. But I will be fine. Now go, I need to check in.” He grabs your hand for a moment and squeezes tightly before letting you go.

You go into the office and the woman at the front desk hands you the typical forms to fill out. After handing those back you wait for a little while, happy that you thought to bring a book. Focusing on that helps you not focus on how crappy you’re feeling.

Once in with the doctor you tell her your symptoms and she does her normal physical assessment.

“Well, there are a number of things this could be. We’ll test for covid, flu, strep. But, we’ve had a number of cases of fungal pneumonia recently, so I want to check you for that as well. Seems there could be something nearby that’s causing these infections.”

With that she sends you off to the lab next door where they do a number of tests, including a chest x-ray to know for sure what’s going on. You text Mitch to fill him in while you wait for the results.

You get called back into your doctor and she informs you that you do in fact have fungal pneumonia.

“I’m going to prescribe you itraconazole, an anti-fungal drug. You can continue taking cough medicine and acetaminophen to treat the symptoms of the infection.”

You nod to show you’re listening and ask, “Is it contagious?”

“No, fungal pneumonia is not contagious. To get it you need to come in contact directly with the spores. Did you visit the wetlands recently?”

“The one’s over near Creek Road?”

“Yes.”

“Yea, I went there Sunday afternoon. Why?”

“Most of the patients I’ve recently diagnosed with this have been there. There must be something on one of the trails that’s infecting people.”

You continue to nod, finding this mildly interesting. If you weren’t sick you’d probably find it fascinating, but you’re too tired to think about it too deeply. She asks about your hike, writing down the specific areas that you walked to send over to the rangers at the Wetlands so they can determine where the danger is.

“I’ve sent your prescription to the pharmacy you listed; it should be ready soon.”

“Thank you,” you say, and she leads you out of the room.

You sit in the waiting room and text Mitch that you’re done, and he tells you he’s outside, his meeting having finished a half hour prior.

The drive home is quiet, with a stop at the pharmacy to pick up your prescription. When you get back to the apartment you head straight for your bedroom, exhausted from the morning’s activities. Mitch joins you a few mimutes later, bringing lunch and your medicine with him.

He Facetimes Sarah as finish your food, and she and Harry answer. They ask how you’re feeling, and you shrug, too tired to come up with a full response. You take the medicine that Mitch gives you, and you fall asleep while they’re still on the phone, comforted by the sounds of their voices.

They stay on the call expressing their concern and Mitch assures them that he’s taking care of you. A few minutes later they hang up, and Mitch carefully cleans up lunch. He’s about to lay down next to you again when you wake up.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asks.

“The same I guess. Don’t you have another meeting to be at?”

“Yea it’s in a little while, but I can cancel and stay home with you.”

“Mitch, really, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure! Go, you’ve got important stuff to do.”

“You’re important,” he replies.

You nearly respond sarcastically but instead you find yourself blushing at his words. He leans down to kiss you, and you’re very grateful that you’re not contagious and can still do this when sick. It’s the first kiss you’ve shared with him since Sunday, and it feels like home.

He pulls away, pressing a kiss to your head and gets ready for his meeting. He checks in with you again before leaving and you reassure that you have everything you need and plan to stay in bed watching movies the whole time he’s gone. He walks out of the room and comes back a minute later, one of your cats under each of his arms. Mitch places them on the bed with you, gives you a final kiss and a “love you” and leaves the apartment.

Mitch is gone for a movie and a half, walking in partway through the 2nd live action Scooby Doo.

He sees what you’re watching and looks almost guilty.

“What?” you ask after seeing his expression.

“I was on the phone with Sarah and Harry while I drove home. They’re concerned about you traveling when you’re not feeling well.”

Your first instinct is to immediately reply that they’re being ridiculous, that you’ll be fine. But instead, you say, “We have 2 full days until the flight to LA. Let’s just play it by ear and decide on Sunday, okay?”

“Okay, that’s fair,” he replies.

“And even if I’m not better by then I could always just fly out Tuesday. You guys will look silly without your Daphne!”

“I still can’t believe you convinced us all to have Scooby Doo as the costumes for Harryween.”

“I can’t believe you chose to be Scrappy Doo.”

“Well Pauli already claimed Scooby. What was I supposed to do?”

“Pick a normal villain from the show, like everyone else?”

“But I wanted to be a dog for Halloween!” he practically whines as he plops in the bed next to you.

You smile fondly, loving when you got to see this side of him. You weave your fingers through his hair and you’re both quiet for the rest of the movie.

Mitch dotes on you for the rest of the weekend, insisting that you do nothing other than rest and get better. He prepares food, brings you your medicine, and carries you with him whenever you’re feeling particularly clingy.

While you hate being sick, you love the excuse to slow down for a few days. Everything is always so hectic for the four of you, and a weekend of nothing but cuddles on the couch with comfort movies and shows in the background is nearly perfect. It would be completely perfect if Sarah and Harry were also there. And if you didn’t still feel like crap.

You slowly got better, and by Sunday morning you were confident that the anti-fungal medicine was working, and you were officially on the mend. It took a lot of convincing the others, but by Sunday afternoon you and Mitch were seated next to each other flying back to Los Angeles.

It’s late when you land, and you go directly to Harry’s place. He and Sarah are waiting outside and rush to the car to help with your bags. The boys bring the luggage inside and Sarah wraps an arm around your waist and walks with you.

You spend the first few minutes there telling everyone repeatedly that you’re fine, just a bit tired. And you’re telling the truth. Your fever is gone, the chills and body aches going with it, and you have only a mild cough. Even if you hadn’t been sick the last couple days you’d be tired after traveling coast to coast.

That night you sleep in between Harry and Sarah, Mitch on Sarah’s other side knowing the other two needed to feel you close to them.

You wake up in the middle of the night, knowing you’re about to have another coughing fit, and try to sneak out of bed so you don’t wake anyone. Unfortunately, Sarah is wrapped around you so tightly that you can’t escape. You start to cough, turning into the pillow to try and muffle the sound but the others wake up anyway.

They all fuss over you, Sarah rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. Finally, you stop coughing, but you keep your face pressed into the pillow. You don’t want them to see the tears in your eyes, knowing how much more worried they’ll be if they see that. You can���t help it though, between the breathlessness and the chest pain the coughing brings, your eyes have no choice but to water.

You try to calm yourself with some deep breaths, but that just causes you to start coughing again. This time you turn into Sarah, needing the comfort her hold brings you.

“Sorry,” you eventually say. “I didn’t mean to wake everyone up.”

“Are you okay, love?” Harry asks. “That didn’t sound good at all.”

“I’m okay, my lungs are just a bit irritated.”

“Are you in any pain?” He questions. You know he’s very familiar with lung issues, having dealt with asthma in the past, and you know that he’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.

“My chest hurts a bit, but it’s really not that bad.”

He gives you a look, like he doesn’t believe you, so you hold his hand and say, “I promise, it’s not that bad. It’s already getting better.”

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you to him. You straddle his lap, tucking your face into his neck. You melt into his embrace, loving the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you. Even though you still feel sick, being surrounded by the three people you love fills you with warmth.

Somehow you fall asleep still sitting up with Harry holding you. When you wake up the next morning you’re still in that position. Harry is asleep beneath you, leaning back against the headboard.

The last thing you want is to wake him again, especially since there’s a show tonight. You open your eyes and see Mitch and Sarah are also sleeping, wrapped in each other’s arms. It’s a perfect start to the day, and you note that you feel much better than the last few days.

It’s not much later that everyone begins to stir. It’s already mid-morning but there’s enough time before they need to be at the venue, so no one is in any rush to get up. Sarah does demand that you switch to her lap, saying that everyone else has gotten more cuddles with you and it’s her turn. You go willingly; something about her soft embrace that comforts you immensely.

Eventually you do all get up to eat and shower before going together to the Forum. You stay backstage and get ready while they do soundcheck, wanting the set list to remain a surprise until the show. You love the group costume that was chosen for night 1, everyone dressing as their own version of Barbie or Ken, you included.

When the others get backstage they compliment you on your look and you smile bashfully at the attention. It’s a bit chaotic with everyone getting ready and having a quick dinner. Finally, you say good bye to the others, give Harry a kiss, and head to the floor to watch the show.

You don’t go out yet, knowing that the fans will notice you once you do, and you don’t want to give away the costume theme. As soon as the show officially begins you walk to the fenced off section for friends and family in the back of the pit.

You’re still not feeling 100%, and the lights and loud music are a bit disorienting, but you don’t let that show. This is your first time attending Harry’s concert as his official girlfriend, and you know that people are going to be watching you, judging you.

Even though you’re still a bit under the weather, you have a great time at the concert. You’re so happy that the set list was a surprise, and you know a fan nearby got your reaction to the start of Canyon Moon, one of your favorites that you hadn’t heard live before.

As always, harry puts on a perfect show. You love watching the fans and checking out all of their costumes. He does the whale to close out the concert and your face hurts from smiling so much. You feel exhausted, and look forward to getting home, but it was worth pushing through.

To no one’s surprise you fall asleep on Harry’s shoulder during the drive home. Sarah and Mitch are in a different car, since you had run out with Harry the second the show ended. You wake up at home, laying on the bed while Harry is taking your shoes off.

“Hi, lovey,” he says as you sit up, your legs dangling off the end of the bed with Harry standing between them. You reach your arms up, placing your hands on his face and gently pulling so he knows to lean down. As soon as he’s close enough you press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“Hi baby,” you say once you break the kiss. “You did great tonight.”

“Yea? Liked the show?”

“Loved it. Always do.”

He smiles at that, dimples popping out on each cheek. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good. Sleepy, but otherwise I feel fine.”

“That’s a relief,” he replies. “Hated seeing you sick. Hated knowing you were sick, and I couldn’t be there to make you feel better.”

“Well, I feel much better now. All healed up.”

He flashes his dazzling smile again, and you pull him in for another kiss.

“Let’s get ready for bed,” he says as he breaks the kiss a minute later.

The two of you are halfway through your nighttime routines when Mitch and Sarah get home. Before long the four of you are cuddled in bed, Harry quietly humming something that sounds oddly similar to “I’m Just Ken.”

The four of you go out the next morning since you want to see a bit of the city. They each choose a couple of their favorite spots to show you before you all need to get to the venue. You again get yourself ready as they do another quick soundcheck, one of the stylist’s helping you with the red wig you’ll need as Daphne.

Once Harry is in his Fred costume the two of you take some pictures together. Night 2 is the same as Night 1, except you’re a bit more worn out from walking through the city all morning. As much as you insist to the others that you’re not sick anymore, that’s not completely true. Your head is pounding by the end, and you feel slightly dizzy. On more than one occasion you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest, it’s racing so fast.

You do everything to keep a smile on your face and not show how you’re feeling. For the first time ever, you feel relieved when the show is over. You enjoyed it of course, but you can’t wait to lay down, which will hopefully stop the world from spinning.

You’re quiet on the drive home, but still able to hide your symptoms from Harry. Once home you get ready for bed, falling asleep before Mitch and Sarah even get back.

The next morning is slightly chaotic as the four of you need to be at the airport fairly early. It’s not until you’re all seated on the private plane that they pick up on the fact that you’re kind of out of it. You claim to just be tired, but you know that they don’t buy it and are all watching you closely.

You’re seated next to Sarah and fall asleep on her shoulder shortly into the flight. When you start to wake up a couple hours later you shift, tucking your face into her neck. Mitch catches Sarahs concerned face, asking, “What’s wrong?”

“She feels warm,” Sarah answers. She places her hand on the back of your neck, noting how hot your skin has become. The boys are both immediately worried, each reaching over to feel for themselves.

You lift your head up and give them all a look, silently asking why they’re all touching you.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks. “Be honest with us, please.”

You take a moment to assess before answering, “Kind of dizzy. And cold. And sore.”

“Anything else, love?” Sarah says.

“Maybe a bit nauseous? But not that bad, really.” Despite your insistence that you weren’t going to throw up, Mitch gets up to grab an airsick bag just in case.

“How long until we land?” he asks as he sits back down across from you.

“About an hour,” Harry answers before he turns to you and asks if you need anything.

“I’m fine,” you reply. “Can you just, uhm. Can you maybe sing?”

“Of course I can love. Any requests?”

You shake your head, tucking back into Sarah’s side. Harry begins to sing, and you take deep breaths, trying to keep any nausea and dizziness at bay.

It’s a difficult hour, and a rough landing has you nearly reaching for the airsick bag but you’re able to hold it back.

You all get home mid-afternoon, and you immediately start to unpack. You know that if you don’t you’ll just leave the suitcase for days. When you’re done you head back to the living room where you find Harry sitting on the couch.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Ordering dinner. Don’t think anyone is up for cooking tonight.”

You sit next to him, putting a random show on TV for background noise. You grab a blanket, wrapping yourself in it to fight off the chills. You lean against Harry who wraps an arm around you.  Mitch and Sarah join you two and you guys finish ordering food and sit together quietly while you wait for it to be delivered.

Once it’s there you all move to the kitchen table. You don’t have much of an appetite but try to eat some of your dinner. The others notice that you don’t eat much, but they don’t push it, knowing that your stomach is still bothering you.

Everyone changes into comfy clothes after dinner, and you head back to the living room couch. You’re in between Harry and Sarah, Mitch trailing behind in the bathroom for a minute. You wonder what’s holding him up but understand when he walks out with your medicine box.

He takes your temperature, frowning when he sees you once again have a high fever. You take the medicine he hands you before curling into Sarah’s side. Her hand slides through your hair and rubs your back, and you focus on those comforting touches.

You all watch a movie before deciding it’s time to head to bed. You stand from the couch, taking a moment to steady yourself as a wave of dizziness washes over you.

Your heart is beating incredibly fast again, and you’re having trouble catching your breath. The others stand around you, asking questions that you can’t hear over the pounding of your heartbeat.

You meet Harry’s eyes for a moment before everything goes dark and you collapse into his arms.

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@akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @theekyliepage @numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry @ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess @houseofdilfs @shaquille-0atmeal-1 @kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye @n0vaj3an

AN: Thank you again for reading this story! There will be a part 2 to this!

#harry styles x reader #mitch rowland x reader #mitch rowland x sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x reader #mitch rowland x harry styles #sarah jones x mitch rowland x reader

[subwaysurf45]

Meeting the Family

Summary: Bucky was having his family’s annual birthday celebration because seeminly everyone was born in Feburary. you were invited which meant you had to meet the large family Bucky comes from, and with your luck it didn’t go as smooth as you wanted it to. 

Words: 5k

Warnings: panic attack, spitting, mention of stress hives, protective/clingy Bucky, mentions of poverty (if you squint really hard) 

Spring reading week was definitely needed already, you sat in your tutorial while you managed to stay on top of the practice questions rather than doze off like the guy beside you. It was rapping up and people were already starting to pack up and some had already left. 

The moment the lecture ended you raced out the door, not before saying goodbye to your TA and wishing him a nice week off because you - though you hate to admit it - like to suck up sometimes. Once you were walking with Bucky on campus and saw one of your profs, Bucky stood for five minutes as you pitched up your voice and asked about her kids. He never let you live it down that sometimes you were a teacher’s pet. 

Natasha was standing at the bus stop with your duffle bag in hand, you had packed it last night and begged her to bring it to you so you could catch this bus rather than the next one that comes in an hour. She had a smirk on her face as you jogged up, taking the bag with a smile. 

“I can bring your backpack back to the house, if you want?” Nat offered, her hand already outstretched to take it. 

“No,” you caught your breath, “thank you though,” you smiled and pulled her in for a hug, “have a nice reading week, I’ll be back Thursday.” 

“I still can’t believe you’re up there for six days,” she laughed, “throwback to when you thought he hated you.” 

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “and yes, I’m up there for a week, apparently there’s some birthday thing because seemingly everyone is born in February.” 

The bus driver honked and you hugged Natasha goodbye, quickly tapping your card and found a spot. You were by yourself which was great, you needed to put your duffle bag somewhere. This would be a full day of travelling instead of the ride you could have got yesterday, Bucky’s parents have some cabin that’s three hours away but this day would take double the time due to a bus and then train ride. 

You had two important tutorials today that you couldn’t miss, it also helped that Friday had a discount for student bussing, there was always a brightside. You shot a quick text to Bucky to let him know you were on transport number one and super happy to see him. 

You had met Bucky’s parents before you two started dating because Bucky invited the entire group up to the cabin but forgot to let his parents know and they had the same idea. You then spent the weekend with ten people; half were in college and the other were retired. 

It definitely was an important night for you. 

“James,” Ernie slapped Bucky’s shoulder, “I need you to understand that you don’t meet those kinds of women everyday, that girl is perfect for you, you have to sweep her off her feet.” 

“She’s dating someone, Ern,” Bucky whispered, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his camp chair, “this weekend blows.” 

“No it doesn’t,” you looked over your shoulder and paused your manicure for Ernie’s wife, “I think Melissa would disagree, would you not?” Melissa nodded and held out her nails, “see?” you looked at Bucky and smiled, but you could see something was actually wrong. 

“I’m going to bed,” it was rare for Bucky to leave the party first, he normally started it. He threw open the patio door and you watched as you stomped upstairs. 

Ernie looked at you, “are you seeing anyone?” 

“It’s complicated,” you sighed and put down Melissa’s hand to grab the other, “he’s…” you groaned, “I know he’s not right for me but…sometimes proximity and being in a relationship for as long as I have is comfortable, y’know?” 

“I don’t,” Ernie said bluntly, “If my lady was away from me for three months I’d write her letters, I’d keep that love alive-” he cleared his throat, “tell me, has this boyfriend made sure you got here okay? Sent you a whatever those are called…texts yet?” 

You purse your lips together, it seemed everyone’s conversations had ended and they were all looking at you. You looked over at Nat who nodded sadly, knowing the answer already because you had already told her. 

“No,” you whispered, “he…he didn’t want me coming because he doesn’t like me around my friends ‘cause…” you looked up at Nat again, not wanting to air out everything in front of these people you barely know, there’s layers to these things and you didn’t want ruin this weekend by talking about your shitty boyfriend again. 

Ernie sighed, “take it from me,” he tipped his bottle towards you, “a lot of people say life is short but when you’re aware you’re in a mistake it feels like a million lifetimes,” he took a long swig, “slowly withering away.” 

You took a shaky breath and stood up, “I’m also going to hit the hay, see you all tomorrow.” 

Half an hour later you were sitting on the corner of your bed, sobbing into your hands as you tried to keep quiet. You could feel this weight from your chest release but also it felt like a heavy blanket was weighing you down, you could barely sit up straight or breathe. 

Five years of a high school sweetheart wasted, all because you told him you didn’t like that he didn’t check up on you. The things he called you, the names. Those names pressed harder on your chest, squishing you down until you were gasping for air while tears streamed down your face. All of your senses were becoming distorted, your vision was slowly losing focus and you couldn’t see out of your peripheral vision, the feeling of your fingers scratching down your neck felt like TV static, everything sounded like you were underwater. 

“y/n?” The door burst open and you could only hear your name being called from underwater, from his long brown hair tied up being the only thing you could register, you knew it was Bucky. He took your hand that was tugging down your throat to try and create air hole and placed it on his own chest, he took your other hand and held with his, after making sure you could keep your hand on his chest by yourself he cupped your cheek, “breathe, honey, you have to breathe,” he could feel his rapid heartbeat, it wasn’t helping like it normally does. 

“I-” you managed to hack out, trying so hard to gain control. He gently tapped your face to try and bring you back, you couldn’t hear him talking over the pounding in your ears but you knew he was trying. Thrashing out, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, feeling things begin to settle when he held you tightly. 

“You are very safe,” he spoke directly into your ear as he held you close, “you are safe with me, alright?” 

“Okay,” you whimpered, balling up his t-shirt as you breathed in his scent which lowered your heart rate. “We broke up,” you gritted your teeth, “I called him a while ago.” 

Bucky pulled out of the hug but kept his hands on you, “how did that happen?” 

“I didn’t like how he didn’t check in on me,” you looked down at your lap, “and I…and he bit back and called me names and I just had enough, so I broke up with him and he screamed at me,” you let out a wet laugh, “I froze and his voice sounded so crisp it was like he was standing in front of me so I didn’t hang up, he just kept going until I snapped out of it.” 

“Do you want to come sleep in my bed?” Bucky brushed away your tears, “just so you’re not alone?” 

“Okay,” you timidly stood up. 

“We will be stopping for five minutes at the Main Station, please take your time getting off and remember to take all your personal belongings with you, have a nice rest of your day, thank you.” 

You sat up straight and got off the bus, heading out into the main area and looking up at the screens to try and find your train platform number. You walked around for a while and noticed it was number 14 but you had time, so you got yourself a snack while you waited beside the tracks with a few other people. After sending Bucky another text you looked down the tracks and snacked on your cream cheese bagel, patiently waiting for the light to appear in the distance. 

********

The house was already buzzing with family members, they were all asking about if you were going to be there. Apparently your mother had told them about you, you had met Bucky’s immediate family but no cousins or grandparents yet; this would be the big day. 

“So you’re making her take a train and a bus to get here when you could have stayed back one more day?” Bucky’s uncle was already tipsy, for some reason getting upset and the situation. 

“y/n and I both talked and we agreed this was best for the both of us,” Bucky sighed in annoyance as you took another sip of his beer, “I’m driving her home next week and picking her up form the station today, so…” Bucky rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen to find his mom plating all the appetizers. 

Winnie looked up and smiled, “could you be a doll and bring this out?” she nudged the spinach dip, Bucky nodded and picked it up. “Is everything alright?” 

Bucky looked around to make sure no one was in earshot, “can people just stay out of my relationship?” he whispered while he walked around the island to get near his mom, “I mean, my God, we aren’t going to crash and burn just because she wanted to go to two very important classes which makes her have to come up today,” Bucky placed his beer down, “it's just everyone is on my ass about it and it’s starting to piss me off.” 

Winnie nodded, “you’re the oldest out of this generation in the family Bucky, all your cousins are younger than you and you’re the first to introduce a girl,” Winnie cupped his face, “people are just excited there’s fresh meat, I bet you any money they’ll swarm her when she shows up.” 

“That is the exact opposite of what I want to happen,” Bucky leaned against the counter and crossed his arm, Winnie stepped in front of him. “Have you mentioned in the e-mail about-”

“Yes, I have,” she scrunched her nose, “no one will make a single comment about what or how much y/n eats, no one will mention anything of the sort.” 

Bucky let out a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back, “I want this to be enjoyable for her,” Bucky looked at his mom who was nodding, “y’know, I want her to like my family but I also know the sheer number of Barnes’ can make anyone feel cornered, and when she feels cornered she…” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, “and the last time she was here she broke up with her previous boyfriend,” Winnie placed her hand on his clenched jaw - making him relax it.

Her eyes flicked between Bucky’s, “you get protective and this anxious when she does, you hear?” Bucky nodded again, “right now, you are going to put that bowl on the coffee table and then come back for the chips as well as the pigs in the blanket and then you will go pick up your lovely girlfriend,” Winnie spoke softly and Bucky closed his eyes, “and you won’t crawl all over her with information and you won’t be glued to her hip all day, you can’t be the one to corner her, alright?” 

Bucky bit his bottom lip, “I love you, Ma.” he pulled her in for a hug, “I got really lucky with you, didn’t I?” 

Winnie chuckled, “I'm speaking from experience of meeting your father’s parents back then,” she sassed, “now go run all that stuff,” she waved him away. 

After putting everything out and finding George, his dad, Bucky got the keys to the truck and headed out. He brought a blanket for the passenger seat as the window in the old truck didn’t fully close and the heaters didn’t work. Bucky kept one hidden in the truck for himself when he was driving his dad's car. 

********

It had been five minutes since you got off the bus, you were shaking as you stood in the parking lot. Your arms folded over one another and you bounced in spot to keep from freezing solid, nothing helped with the outfit you were wearing. The train had the nicer bathrooms so you changed there, pulling on black tights to go under and a chunky wool dress that seemed like an oversized sweater; something Bucky would wear. 

The cabin was in the woods and a little more North, making it colder than campus even though the winter was not completely gone yet. Spring break was more like the end of winter break for where you lived, but a break was a break. 

A truck pulled in and flashed its headlights, you ran up and opened the door. Bucky looked nice with his dark green flannel, black shirt complimenting his hair and eyes. You lunged over the center console and hugged him, his hands pulling you as tight as he could. 

“You look so pretty,” he whispered, “you’re going to have my eight year old cousin wrapped around your finger,” he laughed as he took your duffle bag and threw it in the back seat. After you got settled in, Bucky drove away, taking one hand off the wheel to place on your thigh. 

“So,” you sighed, “what do I need to know?” 

Bucky laughed, “you’ll find out soon enough,” he briefly looked over at you, “just-...” Bucky scratched his stubble that was growing in, “I have a lot of family members and I was talking to my mom about this,” Bucky looked over once he stopped at the red light, “you’re the first person someone has brought home, I’m the first to have a girlfriend and bring her to a family thing so…”

“Go on,” you cupped his cheek. 

“They are going to be all over you,” he admitted, “they already are and you weren’t there yet,” he pushed out a laugh, “so I’m not trying to scare you or anything, I just want to to be prepared and if you start feeling anxious just tell me, we’ll take a second outside, okay?” 

You nodded, “that’s lovely Bucky,” you smiled wide, “you talked to Winnie for advice about me,” you cooed and scratched his cheek when he got extremely red, “I love that, baby, thank you.” 

“And…” Bucky swallowed hard, “I just want full disclosure with this,” he turned down a dirt path, “I ask them to keep comments about food to a minimum, I just want you to know that.” 

Your lips parted with a gasp, “really?” he looked over like he was in trouble but was met with you melt into your seat, “I really appreciate that, lovey, thank you.” 

The moment you stepped foot in the cabin you were greeted with loud chatter coming from another room, Bucky called out and you heard Winnie call back. Bucky took your bags from you and also hung up your jacket, smiling as he gave you suggestive eyebrows when he saw your full look, it was becoming a running joke between the two of you. 

Winnie ran over with her apron on, she held her arms out for a hug and you gladly fell into it. You had met George and Winnie a few times before, it was easy to find out that Bucky was a copy and paste of Winnie, everything about him was the same. She took your arm and stole you away from Bucky, taking you into the kitchen with her. 

“So,” she opened the fridge, “I picked up those ingredients you sent me, they are all over in their little corner,” she pointed to the top right, “dinner is going to be early so whenever you need to start just go ahead, alright?” 

“Sounds good,” you nodded. Before heading into the busy living room you were pouring yourself a glass of white wine, “George, nice to see you!” you reached out for a hug and he gladly accepted. 

“You got your work all done?” He asked as he took out another beer for himself, “Bucky told us you two two tutorials?” 

“Yep,” you took a small sip, “I was confused about the lesson and I didn’t want to be thinking about it this entire week so I thought I would clear it up for the big celebration,” you giggled until you quickly realized something, “has it arrived, by the way?” 

George couldn’t contain his smile, “it has, it’s going to be in your spare room under the bed.” 

“Perfect,” you raised your eyebrows, took your glass, and headed into the loudest room in the house. 

********

Repeating the same conversations over and over bored you like crazy, you didn’t know how many times you had to go over your entire life story until the entire room was on the same page. It was the same thing every time. 

You were standing by yourself with your second glass in your hand, what looked like an uncle had locked eyes with you and was coming over. You smoothed down your dress and smiled back, when he walked up he shook your hand and then faced the group before the both of you. 

“How are you liking the family so far?” simply from the way he talked you started to figure out who his kids were, you could also tell he was on Bucky’s dad’s side. His posture was almost perfect, a sweater tied around his neck and hanging off his back like a cape. 

“I’ve met some of you guys before, just in passing, but seeing everyone together is very sweet,” you giggled and looked over at Bucky who was showing his eldest grandpa something on his phone. 

“What are you studying?” he asked and took a sip of what looked like whiskey, it was odd because almost everyone else was drinking wine or a beer from the bottle. 

“Psychology,” you said for the ninth time, “but I’m definitely going back to school after, to specify.” 

“Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek, looking around the room again. He seemed to be waiting for something, he fixed his posture and you tried to look at where he was looking but nothing could be found. “I have my PhD,” he leaned down and added when you didn’t ask. 

“When did you defend it?” your eyes lit up, “i’ve always wanted to watch one happen in real life, it’s so amazing what you guys can remember and work with on the spot, I’d be too nervous,” you laughed and brough your glass up to your lips. 

He seemed to grow red very quickly, “I haven’t defended it yet, I’m…” he paused, “I’m close to submission on my paper.” 

“Oh,” you nodded, “so you don’t have it yet?” You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the way he was trying to get out of the hole he dug himself into, he was far from actually having his PhD. part of you felt like he already had people call him Doctor. 

“I don’t,” he gritted out, “I’m going to grab a beer.” 

********

You were working away in the kitchen to make your little desserts for everyone, Winnie had taken her break and was mingling with everyone else. Bucky joined you not too long after to simply sit and watch, he watched you in silence as you looked back and forth between the recipe and the bowl in front of you. 

“I love it when you talk to yourself,” Bucky muttered, “you’re adorable.” 

“Shut up,” you grabbed the whisk and started mixing. 

You and Bucky stayed together in comfortable silence, both of you had done tons of talking already and just being near one another was enough. He had this calming presence that worked even when you weren’t aware you were up tight, it seemed his aura lowered your heart rate no matter what. 

People would come in and out to fill their drinks or see what was going on in here, a lot asked if they could help but you kindly declined. The music could be heard from the kitchen but not the living room, you bopped around as you placed the cookie mix onto the cookie sheet. 

At one point Bucky made his way around the island and towards you, picking up your wine glass and going to the fridge. He filled it and added ice cubes when you asked, making you smile to yourself as he softly replied. You looked over your shoulder to see him move swiftly but with care, slowly dropping them in so it didn’t bang against the glass or cause the wine to splash up. 

His hands made their way around your middle, you plunked the cookie dough on the sheet as his head dropped to your shoulder and stayed there for a while. His entire body was pressed up against you, Bucky just swayed as you worked. Every once in a while he’d place a soft kiss to your shoulder to reach around to tuck some hair behind your ear, nothing that got in your way or annoyed you. 

“I think it’s almost dinner,” Bucky whispered, giving you a squeeze. 

“Can I sit beside you?” you joked, looking over your shoulder to see his smiling face. It was a no brainer but you still found it sweet he nodded quickly. “I also think this is going to be my last drink,” you took a sip, “it’s really nice but I’m getting tipsy,” you both laughed. 

Bucky let go and took the tray to place in the oven, “my dad always breaks out the whisky at night,” he shook his head to himself, obviously remembering something, “beer makes me happy and funny drunk while whisky makes me all needy and clingy, get ready for that.” he walked over again, “I mean it.” 

“You already are a grade A clinger,” you pecked his lips, “looks like you’ll be miserable with me in the guest bedroom.” 

Bucky quickly shook his head, “nu-uh, I’m sneaking in or bringing you with me, I’m going to fall asleep on top of you, I’m calling it now.” 

Everyone made their way into the dining room, you found your spot beside Bucky and looked around at all the food in front of you. For a moment you were overwhelmed but Bucky’s hand was swiftly placed on your thigh, when you looked over Bucky wasn’t even looking at you, he was talking to his gramps again. 

As the food was passed around you put enough on your plate, getting coy when Bucky gave you a bun without asking. Little conversations began to build but you and Bucky stayed in your own little world, whispering to each other and laughing as if you were out on a date with no one else around. 

After a while Bucky’s youngest cousin began to ask you questions, it was much more entertaining than the adults. She asked if you had any imaginary friends or dogs, everyone laughed as she rapidly fired questions. 

“Do you and Bucky love each other?” the little girl asked. 

“Very much so,” you giggled and leaned into Bucky, he kissed your temple. 

“So…” she lost her train of thought, “do you and Bucky kiss?” 

Everyone laughed and Bucky answered, “sometimes,” causing the room to awkwardly laugh. 

The eight your old tucked her chin into her neck, “do you hold hands?” 

You lifted your hand to show you were already holding it, bringing your other hand up to sip your wine. 

“Do you have sex?” 

Immediately spat out. 

The white wine sprayed all over the kid’s face and food that people were eating, everyone erupted into belly laughs, including Bucky, but you stared horrified at the little girl crying in front of everyone. Your hand covered your mouth as you sat in shock, the little girl’s mother scolded her for asking that and wiped her face off with a decorative napkin. 

“That was too good!” the PhD faker slapped his knee, everyone agreed except you. 

You sat in horror as everyone calmed down and worked around their infected meals, you just curled up and kept your head down. The last thing you wanted was for this to become a household story that will show up next year, the embarrassment made your entire body boiling hot. You reached over and grabbed Bucky’s ice water, taking a couple gulps which also meant he looked over at you. 

“No,” he whispered, “no stress hives,” he rubbed his thumb down your neck, “baby, it’s okay,” you didn’t listen as you kept drinking his water, feeling him rub your back as you tried to cool down. 

Occasionally someone would laugh, all you thought about was the kid being wiped down in the nearest bathroom, it looked like a whale breached right beside her. She probably didn’t know what that meant and had run out of questions, she was so cute when asking other questions you knew she was coming from a good heart but not the right definition; she must have meant to say something else. 

You kept to yourself for the rest of dinner, not really engaging in the conversations and no one talked to you anyways. Eating quickly, you finished with enough time to get the cookies out of the oven and have a moment alone in the kitchen. You found another cup and filled it with ice water, letting Bucky keep his own glass. 

“Here are the cookies,” Bucky called as you walked in with the platter, “you guys, they’re amazing,” he took some of the plates away from the people who were done, “does anyone want coffee or tea?” 

“Oh, Buck, I can do that,” George stood up from the head of the table, “stay here, alright?” 

Bucky sat down and was quick to pluck a cookie for himself, making sure you saw him eat it and encouraging other people to eat as well. They all began to snack away, quickly looking at you with wide eyes; they were a hit!

“It’s a very old recipe,” you smiled. 

“Tell them the story,” Bucky nudged your arm. 

“Well,” you smoothed out your placemat in front of you, “My mom and I were moving out of this apartment complex because they were tearing it down for some…I don’t know, high rise,” you looked around to see everyone intensively listening, “and so when they were in the middle of construction my mom and I went back to check it out and it turned around there was this cookie recipe that seemed weird on paper with all the ingredients but we gave it a shot, it was old and crumpled up but you could buy it all at the store,” you took another bite, “so when we told people my mom’s friend said that it was probably used as insulation because our complex was old and people used to use news papers,” you laughed, “so we think this recipe literally came from the inside of a wall because my mom and I were in the rubble when we found it.” 

“Isn't that crazy?” Bucky laughed and took another, “when I first heard it, I was like maybe it was keeping you guys warm the entire time, maybe it was next to old newspapers that kept you guys warm?” He slung his arm around you. 

“Why couldn’t you guys get real insulating stuff?” one of the teen cousins asked. 

“It was an old building,” you took a sip of water. 

“Yeah but like,” he paused and scrunched up his face, “couldn’t they fix it, make it with modern materials?” 

You thought about it though you knew the answer. You held yourself back from saying it was the cheapest building on the block but you instead smiled and said, “I’ll give you the landlord’s number, you can set him straight.” 

Everyone laughed and the PhD guy chimed in, “does this recipe call for you to spray anything in it, because I don’t know if that’s a culture thing,” he chuckled, and the rest of the group laughed. 

You could feel the heat spreading around your neck again, “ha, ha,” you smiled through it, “I’ll never live that down, will I?” 

“It’s such a funny story, I’ll tell that one instead of that recipe one for next time,” he had the audacity to wink at you. His smile fell quickly, you hadn’t given him a face but when you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky beside you, it was clear. 

If looks could kill. 

********

You had called it a night a while ago, curled up in bed after finishing some work. Most of the family had left before it got too dark, not wanting to drive out of the lonesome woods in the middle of the night. Bucky stayed down for a while, of course drinking his whisky with his dad. 

“It could have been worse,” you said out loud as you looked at your duffle bag sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. Nothing was perfect but you had made friends with Bucky’s family and learned a lot, they seemed to really like you and not swarm as much as you thought. 

Hearing heavy footsteps coming up the stairs you listened close, smiling to yourself when you were able to label them as Bucky’s footsteps. Your back was to the door but you still closed your eyes, wanting to see what he’d do if he saw you sleeping. The door cracked open and you heard a gasp, he was drunk and needy. 

His hands slipped under your curled frame and picked you up, “my sack of potatoes,” he whispered to himself and left the room, turning off the light. When you were tossed onto his bed you opened your eyes, Bucky was taking off his shirt and nice pants. 

“Are you really going to-” he cut you off as he slipped under the sheets and laid right on you, just like he said he would. His face nuzzled into your chest and his arms held you close, you couldn’t help but play with his hair and watch how fast he fell asleep. “It's your birthday soon,” you whispered, “you’ll get your present soon.” 

Bucky held you impossibly closer, “it’s already here, baby.”

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[autistpride]

AUTISM ACCEPTANCE

Prompt day 4: April 4

Airport/Travel AU

Word count: 1000

@wolfstarmicrofic

“No, no you don't understand!” Sirius said, trying his hardest not to yell. “My first flight had a delayed take off, but I still arrived here in time. The planes have not even left yet! It’s right there! I don’t understand why you won't let me board. I have my boarding pass and I don’t have any luggage except my carry-on and my backpack.”

“Sir, I’m sorry but policy states that you have to be here and board with the rest of your class. You showed up after we closed the door.”

“So open it! Please, please.” Sirius begged

“I'm sorry sir. I’ll have security escort you to the front desk and you can talk to them about refunding your ticket.”

“No!” Sirius snapped when a hand gripped his bicep and gave him a small tug.

“Come on pal.” The security officer said and Sirius’ shoulders slumped and he followed security away from the gate.

Sirius couldn’t believe he missed his flight, he needed that flight. He might miss his brother's wedding.

Sirius felt like everything was falling apart and it had started two weeks ago when his brother called and said he was eloping but wanted Sirius there but when Sirius tried to book the flights, there was none to be had.

Sirius felt like he couldn’t breath, his chest felt heavy and all the sounds were muffled like he was underwater. His heart beat so loudly he swore he could feel it pulsating in his ears.

“Aye, mate. You okay?” The security officer asked Sirius as he guided him to sit down.

Sirius started crying, explaining through broken sobs everything that had happened over the last two weeks, just one thing after another.

“Where do you need to go?” he asked in a tone Sirius could only assume was curious.

“Hockwold Hall,” Sirius said, “I was supposed to get that flight from here to Stansted and then get a cab.”

“Oh, what an odd coincidence. That’s actually my hometown. I can just take you there.” The man said with a shrug like it was not that big of a deal.

Sirius looked over at the man in surprise. No one was that kind and to take a stranger in your own vehicle was just proof this guy was naive. For all the other man knew, Sirius could be an axe murderer or something. But he seemed nice enough. His eyes were a soft golden brown and his hair was, wow. Sirius was pretty sure a bird was nesting in that mess of brown curls but he was far too polite to say so.

“Look, I get off in an hour and then we’ll head that way. ‘Ight?” The man asked.

Sirius nodded.

“Great! I’m Remus by the way,” the officer said, rising back to his feet. Sirius realised then how tall Remus was. He towered over his five foot six frame.

“Sirius,” he mumbled.

“Cool. See you, soon starman!” Remus called back to him as he left Sirius sitting on the floor near the security office.

A little over an hour later saw Sirius placing his carry-on into the boot of a beat up old Skoda that Sirius was pretty sure would break down on the side of the road within minutes. Sirius had no idea how it passed its MOT. Sirius sat into the passenger seat and began to question himself. Maybe Sirius was in fact the naive one and Remus was the axe murderer. Remus sat down into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition before pulling out onto the road. Sirius prayed silently that he wouldn’t die.

What should have been a four hour drive was taking nearly twice as long. Sirius’ leg bounced and his hands wrung the hem of his shirt. His nervousness and stress wasn’t aided by the fact that there was nothing to distract him.

Remus played no music on the radio, saying it distracted him. He knew the drive so well that he lowered his speed limiter nearly a half a mile before each change and raised it only after the end speed limit sign. When Sirius asked why, Remus explained that it allowed for a gradual decrease in speed and thus a smoother drive instead of having to react and suddenly use the braking system. He held the steering wheel with both hands exactly at ten and two and used his signals religiously.

He didn't speak unless Sirius asked him a question which Remus answered so formally and almost like a professor. So Sirius took to pestering Remus with any question he could think of to keep some form of conversation going, and in sick pleasure to see if he could crack Remus and make him loosen up. But Sirius could tell Remus didn't mind because he would often smile or snort before answering and a few times Sirius made him laugh.

When Remus drove into the grassy parking area of the hall and turned off the engine he finally grinned. “Made it safely. Great job girl” Remus said, petting the dashboard of his vehicle like it was a wild beast.

Sirius let out a surprised chuckle. “Thank you for the ride,” Sirius said softly. “I know this was well out of your way.”

“Nah. My parents live literally across the street. I plan to just surprise them and stop by for a few days. Do you know where you're going from here?”

Sirius shook his head no.

“Well no use making you suffer, come on” he said, opening his door and starting for the entrance. “They will likely be round the back using the gardens for the ceremony and the back building for the reception.” Remus explained as Sirius practically ran to catch up.

Remus directed Sirius through the reception rooms to the back entrance and pointed to the small set up out back. “There you have it.”

Sirius bit his lip and then whispered, “would you like to stay, as my date?”

Remus grinned.

#mauraders #wolfstar #autism acceptance #autistic remus #my writing #actually audhd #autistic lgbt #autistic adult #autistic pride #autism #audhd artist

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 13/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

He knocks again, then stands back to wait. What the hell are they doing in there? he wonders, shifting the six pack of beer he brought to the other arm. Poker night is every Thursday—it’s not like they aren’t expecting him. 

The night is cool and crisp, the clear indigo sky speckled with pinpricks of starlight. Trillions of miles traveled across the universe over thousands of years, just to be overpowered by skyscrapers and streetlights and the haze of the industrial revolution. He tips his face up and locates the Big Dipper, the North Star, Cassiopeia. It makes him at once feel insignificant—a speck on a rock in a pile in a quarry—and extraordinary. How many events throughout the history of time had to happen in precisely the way they did in order to bring him to this moment? It feels like destiny, which is both a comfort and a burden. 

Finally, the door pops open and he’s greeted by a tall blond man with thick glasses. 

“The party has arrived!” the man says jovially, standing aside to allow him entry. “Jeff’s here!” he hollers, and voices of the other two call out greetings from a nearby room. 

“I’ve been standing out there for ten minutes,” Jeff chides gently. “I thought you’d kicked me out of the coven.”

They enter a small dining room with a circular table surrounded by four chairs, two of them occupied.

“We were out back smoking a cigar,” the blond man explains as he takes his seat. “Cuban, the real deal.”

“And you didn’t wait for me?” Jeff asks, exaggerating his level of offense as he sits in the remaining chair. 

“Come on, man, we know Diana would have your balls if she smelled cigar smoke on you,” one of the other men says. He’s older than the other two, with wiry salt and pepper hair. 

“You’re not wrong,” Jeff agrees, cracking open a bottle of beer. “Let’s get this show on the road; who’s dealing?”

The third man, mahogany-skinned and handsome, shuffles the cards artfully, making a show of bridges and cascades as he smirks to himself. 

“Mike thinks he’s hot shit with his little card tricks,” the blond man says bitingly. “Just deal the things already, Mike. Jeff has a curfew.”

“Fuck off, Simon,” Mike shoots back. “I’m perfecting my craft.”

“Women are attracted to money, not junior high magic tricks,” Simon says, nudging the third man with his elbow. 

“I like magic tricks,” the third man comments self-consciously, and the other three laugh. 

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Mike says, shaking his head. “You always gotta be the weird one, don’t you, Frank?”

“Yeah, well, you won’t be laughing when I clean house,” Frank grumbles, and Mike finally deals out the deck. 

Frank does, in fact, clean house. They don’t play with real money, just chips, but that doesn’t hamper each man’s desire to win, nor his disappointment when Frank scoops up the lion’s share of the pile and begins stacking them enthusiastically. 

Simon checks his watch, then sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I gotta head out in a half hour or so,” he says. “Marcy didn’t want me to stay too late.”

“Well, I guess Jeff isn’t the only one with a curfew,” Mike teases, and Simon shakes his head with a smile. 

“It’s not that, it’s just hard for her to get up with the baby at night right now, so I’ve been taking all that on.”

“Is she okay?” Jeff asks, his mind immediately going to the kinds of things that can cost you a sister. 

“Yeah, she’s fine, just tired. She’s, uh—she’s pregnant again, actually,” Simon offers, and all the eyebrows at the table shoot up to their hairlines. 

“No shit,” Frank says carefully. “Is that good news or bad news?”

“Surprising news,” Simon says. “But ultimately good. We didn’t really plan to have two this close together, but I guess fate had other ideas.”

“Congratulations,” Jeff offers, extending his hand. “That’s great.”

“Can’t say I miss those days,” Frank remarks, still stacking his chips. “Up at 3:00 am trying to get a baby back to sleep when you have to be up for work at 6:00? No thank you. I’m glad mine are all grown.”

“Thanks, Frank, that’s really kind of you to say,” Simon says, rolling his eyes. 

“I always miss my kids when they’re at Jenny’s,” Mike says sadly. “Being a dad is the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“Hey now, I love my kids,” Frank defends. “I’m just saying, waking up in the middle of the night fucking sucks.”

Jeff watches the exchange, unable to take part. He can relate to overbearing spouses and the perils of the working world, but he has nothing to offer on the subject of fatherhood. 

“I actually need to head out too,” he says as he stands and retrieves what remains of his beer. “Wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to my balls.”

“Send our best to the warden,” Frank quips, earning him a warning look. 

He leaves them, a peel of laughter fading as he pulls the door closed behind himself and makes his way to his car. 

It does bother him a little, the way they talk about Diana. At the same time, what they say about her isn’t untrue. She is a little bit controlling, but not without due cause. He’s made mistakes in the past, ones he can never fully set right, and ones that justify Diana’s desire to know where he is and with whom. He promised her that he would do whatever it takes to make it up to her, and that has included checking in regularly and being home by midnight. Of course, his friends don’t know that, because he’s never told them. He’s too ashamed. So he accepts their cheap shots at his wife, and then drives home to her so he can prove again and again that she is the only one he wants to come home to. 

He slinks into the house quietly, shushing Frenchie’s barks as he enters through the laundry room. He walks towards the back of the house to let her outside, and is startled by Diana’s voice as he passes through the kitchen. 

“You’re late.”

He jumps a little, bringing his hand to his chest as he pulls the sliding glass door open and Frenchie slips out. 

“Jesus, you scared me,” he admits, though that was fairly obvious by his reaction. 

Diana is perched at the kitchen island wearing a silk nightgown, a glass of water on the counter before her. He looks at the time on the microwave display and then back to her pinched expression. 

“By four minutes, Diana,” he defends, indignant. 

She pulls in a deep breath, straightening her posture. 

“Where were you?” she asks. 

“At Frank’s, for poker night. Same as every Thursday. There was an accident on the turnpike,” he tells her, and his gut twists at the disbelieving look on her face. He steps closer, laying his hand over the top of hers on the countertop. “Diana—”

She pulls her hand out from under his and stands, walking to the sliding glass door to let Frenchie back in. 

“I believe you, Jeff. But call next time, okay?” she says tersely, and he nods. 

He lies awake in bed, and by Diana’s breathing, he can tell she is awake too. He feels guilty, but also angry that he feels guilty when he didn’t do anything wrong. He knows that he deserves this, knows he’s lying in a bed of his own making, but he still hates knowing that it will never go away. Six years later and she’s still watching him like a hawk. He thought it would get better over time, but it hasn’t. 

And then there’s Simon and his new baby. He was surprised by the pang of jealousy that lit up in his chest upon hearing the news, a sensation he’s never experienced before. He’s always considered he and Diana to be childfree by choice, but looking back, he doesn’t really recall weighing in on that decision. Diana never wanted to be a mother, and he wanted to be with Diana, and so it was simply part of the deal. Now, at nearly 39 years old, he suddenly wonders if being a father would suit him.

“Did you always know that you didn’t want children?” he asks out loud, and Diana’s breathing pauses briefly. 

“Where did that come from?” she questions.

“Marcy is pregnant again, and I was just thinking—”

A blustering sigh. 

“Jeff, are we really going to do this right now?” she asks, annoyed. 

“Do what?” he counters, equally irritated by her dismissiveness. 

Diana rolls to her side to face him, propping her head up on a fist. 

“Can you really see yourself giving up poker night, and sleeping in, and playing basketball on the weekend?” she asks, her tone shifting to something lighter. 

“I mean…I don’t think I’d have to give up all those things. Not forever, anyway,” he says. 

“Imagine walking into the office to find your rare book collection in tatters on the floor, covered in drool,” she teases, and he smiles. 

“That would be less than ideal,” he agrees. 

“Imagine having to stay quiet when we make love,” she continues, sliding her hand across his belly. 

“I’m not even sure that’s possible,” he says, now grinning. 

She hitches her leg up over his hip, straddling him, then peels the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, revealing her breasts. 

“These are, and always will be, exclusively for you,” she says in a syrupy voice, then leans forward and brushes her lips over his. “Help me fall asleep, Jeff,” she whispers. 

Her nightgown finds its way to the floor, as do his boxers. She sits astride him, grinding with her eyes locked on his. She’s possessive, maybe a little desperate, though he’s not sure why. 

“That’s it,” she encourages him, her hands planted on his chest. Her eyes slide closed, her mouth falling open. “Yes, Fox,” she murmurs. 

When she collapses against his chest he rubs wide circles over her back, and his mind instantly returns to its wandering state. 

“What did you say about a fox?” he asks, and she stiffens. 

“What?” she asks breathlessly, her face tucked against his neck. 

“You said something about a fox, during—”

“I’m relatively certain I said ‘fuck.’ Sorry to offend your delicate senses,” she says somewhat defensively, rolling off of him. 

He turns toward her, laying a reassuring hand on her bare hip. 

“I’m not offended, Diana, I was just wondering—”

“Goodnight, Jeff. I have work in the morning, I need to get to sleep, if you don’t mind,” she says in a clipped tone. 

“Okay,” he acquiesces. “Goodnight.”

He waits for her to turn her face towards his so he can kiss her goodnight, but she keeps her back to him. He presses his lips to the curve of her shoulder, lingering there as a confusing mix of emotions swirl around in his chest. 

The life he has. The life he sometimes thinks he might want. The discrepancy between the two. He wonders why now, all of a sudden, he’s peeking over the fence at possibly greener grasses. Why the life he’s been content with for years suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. 

The rush of the waves fills his ears, calming him. A gull calls out, its shriek carried away on the wind as his toes sink into the sun-warm sand. He spies a child further down the shore, a boy with dirty blond hair building something with a shovel and a bucket. There is a feeling of recognition, a sense of knowing, though he cannot recall the child’s name, nor their relationship to one another. 

A strong wave pushes up beyond the waterline, sweeping across the child’s half-finished project and washing it into an indecipherable mound. The child’s shoulders slump, defeated, so he approaches and calls out to him.

“Oh, hey, buddy. That’s okay, you can build it again.”

He kneels down beside the boy and touches the child’s cheek, brushing an errant grain of sand from his downy skin. There’s something in the child’s eyes, something familiar that makes him feel a swell of affection and protectiveness. 

“Just start again,” he tells the child, reassuringly. 

He jolts awake, his heart racing. Frenchie stands from her bed on the floor, alerted by his sudden movement, and watches him for an indication of what’s next. 

“It’s okay, Frenchie,” he murmurs, rubbing his hands over his face. 

The night is still in full swing, only inky darkness peeking in around the blinds. He looks over at Diana’s sleeping form, her back still turned to him and her breathing even. It feels like only minutes have passed since he fell asleep. 

Wired from adrenaline, he stares at the ceiling and waits for the potential of sleep to return to him. His dream has mostly faded, and he grasps at snippets. The beach, he remembers the beach. 

Just start again.

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files

[musewritingsforyou]

A Normal? Day

Summary: A normal day in the life of Beacon Hills Favorite Couple

Warnings: unbearable Fluff, plot points that wont make sense just yet

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I realized I dont have any of my Stiles work updated yet! This is just a short little oneshot to show people what my stiles writing will kind of be like. I wrote it to be included in a season rewrite that I am doing but It didnt fit great so now im just giving it to you for fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*somethings that wont make sense to you will be explained if you go read my series rewrite in the next few weeks!*

A normal day in a supernatural world. 

Step one, wake up. 

Waking up is a long process for me. My lovely hyperactive boyfriend did what he always does for me each morning, wake up about thirty minutes before me, sit there as still as he can (which is not very still) to let me sleep in, give up after ten minutes and then get out of bed. Stiles woke up at six this morning, playing with my hair as I slept before he finally got out of bed. Like every morning since we started doing this, he placed his pillow and a spare flannel in my arms so I wouldn't  ‘get cold and lonely’, and then went to get himself ready for school. This was a relatively short process, throw on some pants, decide between a sweatshirt or a flannel, find the backpack and then he's pretty much done. For me on the other hand, it's a little different.

“y/n/n, I gave you five extra minutes. You gotta get up.” I groaned and moved the pillow that was in my arms to cover my face. To my disappointment Stiles took it off and started peppering me with kisses until I opened my eyes with a scowl on my face.

“I love you but I really hate you.” He gave me a classic Stiles grin as he moved backwards off of the bed. 

“I know, you make sure to tell me that every time I wake you up.” 

After walking out the door, and then back to it within seconds to make sure I was actually getting up, Stiles went downstairs to make some coffee and left me to get ready. I was running late, per usual, but by the time I made it to the car all of my things were there waiting for me, along with Stiles who held out a travel cup of coffee just the way I like it and forcibly handed me a banana.

“Eat.” I shook my head and motioned for him to drive. 

“Too early, If I eat right now I'll actually puke all over your car.” He started the car and drove with one hand as he kept the banana extended. 

“Babe, we do this every morning and every morning I remind you that-” I snatched the fruit from his hand as I finished his sentence. 

“Breakfast is important and if you don't eat it in three hours you're going to come to me during class with a panicked look on your face telling me you think you're about to pass out. I know, I remember.” 

I sound sarcastic like this every morning, but even through the snide remarks and the occasional unnecessary and undeserved insult, Stiles still looks at me like I'm the answer to the universe.

Step two, school. For this one I recommend that you don’t do what I manage to do every year, fill your schedule with all honors and AP classes, zero breaks or study halls, and more than three extra-curriculars.

I won't bore you with the rather slow details of a highschool senior. I will however give you this, classes are hard, I don't think I will ever be able to use a red pen in my entire life, and with each passing day somehow I find a way to be even more stressed than the day before. 

The day ended with me sitting on a bench with Lydia and Malia, watching our boys play lacrosse from across the field and inevitably laughing our asses off whenever either of them would look over to make a face at us and get tackled or hit with something from the field. Ah the simple pleasures, you know? As we both waited for Stiles and Scott, Lydia and I spread our various school textbooks out on the bench in front of us, in all about sixteen heavy books set open as we studied. When Coach finally blew his whistle with one ear shattering blow after another the boys ran to us, practically dripping in sweat. Stiles bound up the bleachers, skipping some of the steps and leaned down in front of me, waiting for a kiss. I didn't look up from my textbook, and neither did Lydia as she responded to the boys while hovering over her calculus homework.

“Nice try boys, but before you even think about going anywhere but a dog kennel, you need to take showers.” There were a few mumbled protests but again without looking up she shooed them with her hands. 

“Come on, off you go.” I giggled a little as they marched away in defeat, their cleats making a crunching sound when they reached the grass. 

Step three, finally to get home, only to have to go to a pack meeting. 

Like every other Friday the pack all met in Scotts living room, this time all agreeing to stay away from anything breakable. I promised Melissa I wouldn't let them destroy the house while she was out, and I keep my promises. At the moment there were no big problems. Though I still wince a little when I say it, it seems like everything in Beacon Hills is… normal. As weird as that sounds. But we still meet once a week, every week it becomes more of a group study/hangout than a real meeting, but spending time with our friends was more valuable than any solution we had come up with before. The only issue to discuss at this meeting was me. I wouldn't call it an issue exactly, but after finding out about my… species? People? Clan? I don't know what to call it, but after finding out about what I am, we still have almost no information about what that really means, for me or for them. 

“Liam, as much as I appreciate the input, I don’t think being a truth seeker literally means that I can cheat on multiple choice tests. Even if it did, morally I will tell you again, cheating is a bad thing, and also none of my classes use multiple choice.” 

They all tried their best to put Stiles and I at ease, telling us that in time we would figure it all out. But that was the thing, we didn't have time. We’re seniors just a few months from leaving this town for college, and once I leave I don't see myself flying across the country once a week just so that I can make sure I know the “truth” of Beacon Hills. The sun finally set and Stiles and I said our goodbyes, walking hand in hand out the jeep before heading to his house for the night. 

Step four, stay up until three in the morning looking for answers about what supernatural powers you have. yeah , I know, that one's a kicker. 

As soon as Stiles and I stepped foot in the door of his room we threw off our bags and changed into sweatpants. I took the flannel he gave to me this morning and placed it over my tank top as we stood in front of his clear board as if waiting for an idea to come to us by itself. The board was still blank, nothing there but a picture of me and Stiles together at the lookout in the woods. A little reminder that no matter what crazy ideas are thrown onto this board, we always have each other. We settled into our usual spots, Stiles standing and pacing in the middle of the room while I spread books and papers out over his bed, laying on my stomach and staring into the pages. 

Finally, Step five, wait for the full frustration to kick in, and then once it's there, find a cute boy to calm you down.

I was laying flat on my stomach with four books in front of me, two from school, two from Lydia on the supernatural. I was hoping that in between my AP calculus homework and my college physics textbook I could figure out something new about my identity. News flash, it wasn't working. I groaned at the words in front of me, frustrated that for some reason the letters were swimming in and out. I took the books (all four of them) and slammed them shut before throwing them aggressively onto the ground in front of Stile’s bed and then taking the papers and just tossing them onto the air without any thought of aim or purpose. Stiles stopped pacing and stood still in front of his board, which now had a few red squiggles here and there along with the photo and a horrible attempt at drawing a wolf. He turned slowly to me with a marker in his hands.

“You good?”

“Not really.” He nodded and walked over, sitting beside me on the edge of the bed and putting the marker down. While I was still lying on my stomach he placed a hand on my back and rubbed it slowly.

“baby, do you know what time it is right now?” I placed my head in my hands and responded. 

“No. Do I want to?” 

“No, but I'm going to tell you anyway. It's three in the morning.” I said nothing and just signed into my hands. Stiles ignored my angry sighs and continued. 

“Babe do you know what that means?” I shook my head. 

“Well first of all it means that you are probably exhausted, which is why you're getting so frustrated with yourself, but more importantly it means that we have two hours before that night time diner downtown closes.” I looked up fast. 

“Are you talking about the one with the pie, and the fries and the shakes.” He looked at me very seriously and nodded. Without another word I popped up on the bed and threw on a pair of crocs.

 “Stiles, no matter what I say in the mornings when you wake me up, I love you so much I think you might even be higher on my list than eating pie at three in the morning.” He gave me a broad smile and kissed me on the cheek. 

“Say no more, love.”

#teen wolf #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles #stiles stilinski #oneshot #dylan o'brien #reader insert

[dw-writes]

66 for the Spotify thing 💖

Song: Blow by Atreyu Fandom: American Gods lol okay so this song is actually from an anime rage playlist that i listen to at work a LOT because people get on my nerves. it's not exactly sticking to the song, but i think it's close. I hope you like it!! in terms of where this sits, it's somewhere during their travels. I'm not 100% sure where as of right now, but I'll figure it out later! :D Chapters:Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four  || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine || Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven || Chapter Twelve || Chapter Thirteen || Chapter Fourteen || Chapter Fourteen-ish || Chapter Fifteen || Chapter Sixteen || Chapter Seventeen || Chapter Eighteen || Chapter Nineteen || Chapter Twenty || Chapter Twenty-One || Chapter Twenty-Two Requests:Mad Sweeney and The Holidays || The Invasion and the Stressful Blows One Shots:The Invasion and That One Thankful Holiday || The Invasion and the Weight of Change || Eyes On You

The Invasion and the Stressful Blows

There was something that was itching at Sweeney, making him irritable. It was easy to tell, after knowing him for so long – there was a hunch to his shoulders, a tightness that coiled down his neck and around his spine until it held him tight. It reminded you of something, something saw days or months or years ago, it was hard to remember, but you were sure he reminded you of himself, of the things you saw while learning his name. He paced back and forth and you saw a war brewing across his shoulders that made your own ache.

“Hey,” you gently called, voice falling flat in the empty hotel room.

He turned on the ball of his foot, old carpet protesting under his boot.

It was far too early, you thought, for him to be withdrawn and angry and you couldn’t even pinpoint what happened to put him in a mood. You’d just woken up to see him pacing, muttering to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side.

You shifted on the bed, curling your legs under you and pulling the blanket over them as he stalked past again.

“Sweeney,” you called through a yawn.

He twisted again at the door, breathing in harshly through his nose as his eyes flitted over you without seeing you. You wondered if he even heard you. You swallowed and rose from the bed, letting the blanket pool around your feet as you carefully padded to him.

“Sweeney,” you whispered, reaching out to brush your hands over his arms.

He flinched, squeezing his eyes shut, muscles tensing beneath your fingers.

“Where are you?” you gently asked.

He exhaled slowly, keeping his eyes closed. “Field,” he muttered after a long moment, “War.” His body went limp as you gave him another squeeze, leaning into you until you both crumbled to the floor. His arms wrapped around your back and held you there.

“Wanna talk about it?” you murmured against his shoulder.

He grunted, huffed, and finally sighed. “No,” he mumbled. He dropped his head against your shoulder, curling around you. You held him tight, rubbing your fingers up and down his back. You could feel the rage easing out of him one pass at a time, until he melted around you with a sigh.

“Now that you’re a little more relaxed,” you said, leaning back to look up into his face, “You wanna blow off some steam?”

Sweeney was on his feet before you finished your sentence, yanking the dingy mattress to the floor with a grunt. “Been a bit, luv,” he grunted as he flung his denim shirt to the side, “Hope you’re ready.”

“I’ll be fine,” you argued as you stood. You rolled your shoulders. “Ready?”

He lunged.

The two of you ended up paying for another night and some damage to the box spring, but at least Sweeney looked lighter when the two of you finally left.

~*~Thanks for Reading~*~ ~*~Tag List~*~

@hannon-say || @divadinag || @superflannel || @jinxy-toast || @the-bluest-hour || @karmabites2313 || @siedrkona1991 || @hstott || @lakeli || @massivecolorspygiant || @leximus98 || @weirdo125 || @fleeingdawn-blog1 || @madamecoyote || @postgradandstupid || @hopplessdreamer || @ceyruh || @animatenebrae || @ultrablackwidower || @callmemaeverick || @loisbaggings || @fictional-hooman || @babypink224221 || @quietwitchworld || @mags-writes || @sunshine-gumdrop || @theonlylolland

#the invasion series #american gods #mad sweeney #mad sweeney x reader #pablo schreiber

[svtskneecaps]

feel like the global tasks sweep strat should probably be nerfed somehow. my thought would be, give each team an individual ten minute overall cooldown on global task claims. that is to say, a certain team can only claim one global task per ten minutes. say, deliver gas masks, and then in ten minutes you're allowed to deliver tea, and then after another ten minutes you can claim hot chocolate.

another teams would be able to claim a global task for bananas during this time, and their own ten minute cooldown would start.

(the global tasks can either keep their individual ten minute cooldown [i.e. after tea is claimed no one else can claim tea for ten minutes] or a slightly shorter cooldown, say 5-7 minutes)

when a global task is claimed, everyone is notified, right? if not, in my hypothetical, they will be.

then, a team trying to sweep six tasks at once would actually take sixty minutes to do, allowing another team to swoop in and have a chance to stop it in cinematic, entertaining fashion rather than tubbo having to grind resources and then log out in front of the merchant to counter this, which is boring for everyone (including the person delivering). plus, if a team cuts it down to the last second and ends up getting delayed, they physically wouldn't have time to make a delivery, meaning even being a BIT of a nuisance could be a viable strategy, even if you can't manage to kill; if you can STALL you could still wreck their plans.

that's my dream anyway idk i'm not a game designer. just think it would be interesting for most players

(i elaborate under)

red team would have to shake up their strategies, which is fun since they're a team that kinda has to rely more on strategy than outright brawn (overall the team's pvp can't be relied on unless they have carre or phil, as seen today when pierre, bad, and etoiles attacked phil cellbit foolish and baghera, and cellbit and foolish both died to etoiles in the attack, despite it being a 4 on 1 at the time. baghera was killed by bad soon after. phil was the one to get the kills. the first day, when blue attacked [niki, tubbo, and bad as i recall] carre got both kills)

the other teams would then still have a way to stop a global sweep since a sweep would have to start earlier, allowing not only more time to arrive at global to pvp about it, but ALSO allowing another team to swoop in and steal the goal out from under the team again

i'm gonna use it in a scenario bc i'm badboyhalo and i can't stop myself from making examples:

so, tonight, if the proposed cooldown was in place, bad and tubbo would both still had roughly 17 minutes when red team would have HAD to start the sweep process if they wanted all six global tasks: 1 hour until the server closed at absolute MINIMUM. more for safety's sake.

therefore, in this scenario, there's a lot to happen

blue team could wait at globals, knowing red will probably try this strategy, and attempt or perhaps SUCCEED in killing red. if they kill red entirely, the operation is a wash; red doesn't have to gear to come back from scratch and take out blue team, and even if they could, the travel time to return to globals alone would mean they wouldn't get all the global tasks, potentially meaning they don't take the lead. if blue team is unable to kill red and dies themselves or has to retreat, but succeeds in delaying red, red would face the same problem.

if red sends in all of the task items on one person, and that person dies, even if the rest survived, blue could loot the items from that person and would be able to either use the items themselves, if green is currently the owner, or could run away with the items, effectively wasting red's time and again, meaning they wouldn't get all tasks claimed even if they were able to overtake the runner and reclaim their items.

i'm unclear what would happen if red divided the task items between them since it seems like the person claiming the task doesn't have to have all (or any? again, unclear) the items in THEIR inventory in order to claim so long as a teammate is nearby with the items in their inv (evidence: pac's vod "voltei... o que tá acontecendo no QSMP?!" at roughly 3:00:00; tubbo claims tea and tea is taken out of pac's inventory. i don't know the limits of this strategy)

blue team also has time to swoop in and steal a global task out from under red during this time. say, if red team had claimed the task for 10 tea leaves, upping the price to 15 tea leaves, and then blue team snuck in and claimed the task and set the price up to 20 tea leaves, (since the proposed 10 minute cooldown on claims would be TEAM LIMITED; red's cooldown applying to red only and so on). if red waited until the last second, they wouldn't have the time to reclaim this task even if they did have the resources, possibly forcing them to start their sweep earlier to counter this possibility, at which point team members who had logged on earlier and are out of time by the end of the night, OR members who live in time zones that don't allow them to stay up until server close, may have an easier shot at participating in defending against a global sweep.

all of this DIRECT CONFLICT would make for good audience entertainment and heighten the stakes of an attempted global sweep, since it would practically have to be one team defending globals for an hour while they pipe all their resources into it, knowing that if they die another team could easily swipe their task resources and use it themselves (along with the rest of their gear). it makes it more interesting, while still mostly viable.

plus it would force more strategizing for red team which is maybe just a personal plus, i just really like seeing people planning both in advance and in spur of the moment. it's really satisfying to see how a plan comes together and succeeds or fails; plus, since red team is the main team using this strategy at the moment and their main draw and strength as a team is cohesion and communication this would be completely fucking riveting for me as a viewer so maybe this is just a personal thing. but i really really think it would be fun

but again, i'm not a game designer, or a qsmp player, or a qsmp admin, or honestly even really a gamer? so maybe i'm off my rocker and out of my gourd and this isn't viable or balanced in any way shape or form but YKNOW what is this blog except putting stupid thoughts into the void and seeing if this time the void spits back hate mail so. i'm folding this into a paper airplane and throwing it into the abyss. hopefully it made sense.

k love you appreciate you getting this far, have a good week!!

(i hope your team gets a win in dramatic fashion and celebrates together!!! i hope they come together and unleash a plan so spectacular it takes the server by storm!!! i hope it's so good it becomes a vod you go back to even years in the future!!!! i hope you have a good week!!!!!)

#qsmp #qsmp purgatory #shut up vic #block game brainrot #yes it's long beneath the keep reading no i'm incapable of being succinct #i color coded the important parts though i just wanted to try to be clear #examples are my bread and butter i do programming and math they make everything easier for me to understand #god i hope this makes sense to other people i didn't ask my biological peer reviewer so idk if this is stupid or not #tbh it's just a tumblr post so i guess it's whatever if it is but i put wayyy more work than necessary into double checking timelines lol #(i didn't watch blue today sorry :/ idr if i mentioned in the body of the post but i main red team) #(their energy is just more entertaining for me personally; though i kept an eye on pac once i could multi-watch!) #anyway other team mains feel free to weigh in if i'm making weird assumptions about what the teams are capable of #heaven knows my pov is biased here LMFAO #((for what it's worth i am fully aware this means red team aren't rly underdogs anymore and i super want them to be kicked in the stomach)) #((back to the drawing board; what will they do??? I WANT TO KNOW :O)) #((seeing them crawling back to victory from being like two pixels on the bar on sunday was great. more of that pls)) #idk i've rambled enough #long tags #ignoring daylight savings it's technically one am goodnight friends i hope this post doesn't suck hahahaha............... #OH AND IF ANYONE THINKS I SHOULD TAG SOMETHING FOR FILTER PURPOSES ABSOLUTELY LET ME KNOW #i want to be courteous but i think this post is pretty neutral in tone? but if you think it deserves a tag i will absolutely add it!!!!!

[its-a-ittle-bit-cold]

Down to the place we used to lay when we were kids

4.1k

series masterlist

my masterlist

summary: On the way to your home planet, you and Anakin put the past at rest.

A/n: I KNOW i said i would post like 3 weeks ago but this chapter was a journey to write!!! enjoy <3

The Legacy always felt like home for you. When your Master got and named the cruiser, he always told you that the Legacy and the men who cared for it were the best of the best. You stand on the bridge, combat armor fully equipped, cloak thrown over your shoulders. You always get cold upon takeoff.

Your Clone Commander and right-hand-man, Jex, stands with his helmet under his arm, speaking quietly with Admiral Jakobsen while you observe takeoff, waiting for your mission partner. 

The newest distress signal came from your home planet - Onapesca. Unlike other Jedi, you actually remember your family, your parents and your cousins. Sometimes the memories blur, but others, it’s like you’re six years old again. The Council had disagreed and had had to vote on who they would send… until the next call came in, requesting you by name. Onapesca has a very specific force signature, and only those who know how to access that ‘frequency’ can enter the atmosphere without being battered and killed by force storms and the like.

And so, the Council sent you - and the Jedi with the most similar Force signature to you, General Skywalker. 

“So, I hear this is the party ship,” Anakin’s voice sounds behind you. You turn, brushing the sides of your cloak back as you turn. He’s there with Rex, who approaches his brother and best friend with a complicated handshake. “What’s she called, again?”

“Anakin, Rex. Welcome to the Legacy.”

“General, we’re ready for takeoff,” Jakobson tells you. You nod, turning back to the big windows that let you look out over the cruiser. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Admiral.”

Jex and Rex inform both you and Skywalker that they’ll go to speak with the troops before reporting back for the briefing for today. The journey to Onapesca from Coruscant is quite a long one - three day’s worth of space travel to reach the outer ring of storms. You’ve already debriefed the 500th, but the small force of 501st troopers brought with Anakin and Rex are none the wiser, so you schedule a full debrief in othree hours - enough time to get everything settled for the journey.

There’s inner turmoil poorly masked inside your soon to be partner (maybe it’s just poorly masked to you). 

“Is something wrong, Skywalker?”

Anakin glances at you. You keep your gaze firmly locked on the receding planet of Coruscant, lights flickering, lighting the whole planet up. 

“I can feel your anxiety, you forget. Is something bothering you?”

The blockade he’s built flickers. You try not to peek in, but you catch a glimpse of orange and blue and white. Wide blue eyes. 

That can only be one person.

“Ahsoka? Where is she, by the way?”

Anakin bumps your shoulder.

“You know, you’re not supposed to do that.”

You wait silently.

He sighs.

“She’s back at the temple. Training.”

“Is she not your Padawan?”

“She didn’t want to come.”

That’s unlikely. You stay quiet, making sure your disbelief radiates toward him.

“She’s still having problems from the latest. I didn’t want to overwhelm her with another mission so soon.”

Finally, you turn to study him. He’s tired, eyes dark, heavy with a sort of exhaustion that comes and doesn’t go. 

If he’s this tired, how is Ahsoka?

“She’s fourteen, Anakin. I wonder sometimes if she should be here.”

By here, you mean in the war.

“We were younger.”

“Look how that turned out.”

You turn away from him, walking down the path out of the bridge. 

Look how that turned out.

You’re nine. 

This is a clear memory - one you revisit often. 

Anakin is a year older than you, ten when you meet, although you’ve been in training a lot longer, first as a youngling for a brief stint and then a Padawan learner, when you turned eight you were given a Master. 

He’s kind, one of the Masters who would visit the Crèche often in search of a Padawan. He sensed your Force presence and the ability you’ve already developed, requesting you to be his Padawan. 

As a young, advanced Padawan who’d beat some of your seniors already, you stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Until Anakin.

Until he found you hiding away in the gardens, wiping tears with the backs of grubby, mud stained hands, after a particularly humiliating win. 

He comes over and unravels the fortress of vines and flowers you’ve grown over yourself like a wall. The plants like him. They know that he’s just as different as you.

“I heard you crying,” He says. 

Your tears dry immediately at the sight of him. He can’t see you cry, you have to prove that you’re just like the other Padawans.

“I cry too,” he tells you, skipping right over the gap in conversation. You sniff shyly. 

“… you do?”

How could he, the Chosen One, cry? He’s already made a name for himself!

“Yeah,” He’s suddenly bashful. “I miss my mom sometimes.”

“Oh.” 

You miss your family, too.

“That’s okay. I miss my family, too.”

It’s his turn to be surprised.

“You do?”

He’s perked up, and so have you. This is strange - another Jedi who even remembers their birth family. 

So you talk, and talk, and giggle at his bad jokes.

It’s strange. You both need someone, someone who’s not your teacher or a friend, someone who understands the hurt of remembering.

And your Masters find you teaching him

how to manipulate the plants with only your hands, giggling when the flower he’s growing spits a wad of pollen in his face.

They share a look, and know this is the start.

Fourrteen, and blood runs hot.

You’re still getting bullied, but now Anakin is bigger than the bullies now.

He sprouted like a weed the past year and a half, growing what seems like five feet in the shortest span of time possible. He towers heads over your steadily growing self, now, all corded muscle and catlike movements. 

The next time you’re made fun of, pushed around in the height of insecurity, he’s there to throw a well-timed punch to the face of a nineteen-year-old Nautolan who’s shorter and stockier than him. 

“Anakin!” your voice has climbed octaves as the two brawl. Full-on, no sabers, no Force, brawl. Over one stupid comment and one poorly thought out shove. “Stop it! get off him!”

He doesn’t stop.

The other spectators are both screaming the the two Padawans to stop, and egging them on. Your throat catches on a sob, emotion building up, the feeling of helplessness is not one you’ve ever enjoyed.

You don’t know what else to do.

So you crack the force like a whip, sending them flying in opposite directions. Spreading your fingers and hands out separating the two Padawans, suspending them in the air just in time to stop them from hurtling into the marble walls. Everyone in the training hall goes silent at the sight of your huge feat of The Force, probably feeling the repercussions through the veil as Master Bosque, Master Kenobi, Master Secura, and Master Yoda crash into the room, seeing the two males floating, suspended in the air while you dig yourself dents into the marble floor, crackling under the weight of The Force. 

Anakin paddles his arms, trying to get free of your hold. 

At the sight of your Master, you let them down, setting them gently on the floor of the training arena. 

Anakin’s eyes are on you.

His eye’s swelling already, but he’s otherwise fine. The other… well, his robes are torn, he’s bleeding from one eye, and one of his tentacles is displaced. Definitely worse off than your best friend. 

Anakin winks at you as Obi reprimands him, and you bite back a smile as you leave with your own Master. 

After this, Yoda offers you specialized training to harness your capabilities over The Force, but that’s another story completely.

Sixteen, and Anakin is distant.

He doesn’t seem to know how to act around you since you’ve filled out a bit, gotten prettier, learned how to dress for undercover missions you go on together, posing as clueless teenagers roaming the streets of Coruscant.

Recently, you’re not friends, out roaming. You’re hopeless romantics, ducking into alleyways to pretend to break the code. 

You’ve dressed up in a nice little dress , hidden your sabers under the skirt and thrown on a bit of makeup.

Of course, this is all provided by the Order, for a mission investigating an emerging Coruscant Spice ring. Dangerous spice, that is, not the stuff you can snort and get a little woozy.

Anakin’s wearing a relatively nice-looking local suit, hair gelled back and braid tucked into a high collar. You can easily hide yours under your hair, but he’s got his shaved head to deal with as well. (and that little rat-tail on the back of his head).

He puts his hand on the small of your back - more like hovering it there- and you skirt the streets. 

You slip into an alleyway, one where you’ve been informed of a deal going down.

Anakin presses you against the wall and waits for the signs of life. Footsteps, a scuffle. Something.

You try to meet his eyes. He avoids it.

Your Masters are in your ears, just like your heartbeat thinking for itself. 

There it is. The deal. Someone’s coming into the alleyway.

Everything’s blurry with the scent of the cologne he’s spritzed on, something gross and insufferable. 

His lips are clammy on yours, you can’t really focus on the kiss: your first, and probably only. You’re listening in, and when the dealers leave, he’s looking at you. 

Looking at you.

“Don’t even think about it, Skywalker.” You click your comm on, wiping your lips. “Masters, come in. We have the location for the next deal.”

Anakin drags behind, quiet for the rest of the night.

After that, you go away for a while. Try to complete your Sentinel courses. Get everything ready. You go off world and try to give Anakin space.

Turns out, all the space in the galaxy isn’t far enough.

Age 20, newly knighted and  reunited, you join forces again to combat a string of terrorist attacks.

As a Sentinel, you’ve always felt connected with the general population, maybe more so than the rest of your Jedi peers. So, on your first mission after the Knighting ceremony , yourself and Anakin investigating a string of explosions and bomb threats, it was up to you dealing with the informants. 

The latest is a near-human around your age, witness to the bombing attempt of a sector of civilian shops. He’s bigger than you, charming, and a total flirt, and you can tell that Anakin absolutely hates him. 

You can trust him, you think, with being civil. He’s not been overly emotional since that brutal day on Tatooine when you were eighteen. 

Anakin, newly Knighted and full of pride and the sort of accidental prejudice that you’ve found lately in the Order, is certainly a sight to behold. In comparison to Aster, the informant, he’s wider, taller. More severe, more lithe, all corded muscle. 

He can be intimidating.

Not to you.

Never to you.

But he stands behind you so menacingly during your interview with Aster that you have to tell him to leave in your head. 

Aster smiles charmingly at you, pearly whites gleaming. 

When he leaves the first day, Anakin tells you that he has a bad feeling about him.

“You have a bad feeling about everyone.”

Now, it seems like so much could have been prevented if you had only followed his advice.

You sense his presence entering the room, even with your eyes closed. 

“You’re thinking about it, too.”

The briefing went well, no complications. Both groups of troopers fully briefed and in training together.

“The last mission we were on together.”

He sits down cross from you, your knees touching, the force flowing like it used to.

Like before the blowup, before the fall.

“Why are you so mad?” He’s waving his hands around, face red, twisted. You have this roiling boiling pot of overflowing rage in the pit of your stomach, tears huling up in your chest as you try to verbalize how you’re feeling. 

Because of Anakin, Aster is dead. Because of Aster, Anakin could be. 

And because of you…

Because of you, and your misjudgement,  this is the first mission you’ve been on, and the first you’ve failed. 

“Because, Anakin! You… You disrespected my orders, and you gave me your word.” You have tears threatening to spill. He’s never seen you mad, not like this. You take a. deep breath. “You promised me that you would go with the plan. You told me that you wouldn’t - that you-“

You breathe slow and heavy. 

“You put yourself in danger. You disregarded me, my orders, and my authority. And because of you…”

Anakin isn’t even shameful. There’s no regret in his eyes. The tears spill over.

“He’s dead. You helped kill a man, Anakin. He’s dead and you have no remorse for what you’ve done.”

Anakin gets this look in his eye, the one he gets after you’ve bested him in training. Like has angry and disappointed in himself but he’ll never admit it. 

You can’t be around him anymore for fear of saying something that ruins your relationship.

You get one, two, three, four steps in before…

The angry monster rears its head. 

“It’s cause you’re fucking him, right? That’s why you’re mad.”

His voice grates on you like he knew it would. 

How dare he.

“I let you cry to me, I held you in my arms and I put up with your bullshit. Get over it. I’m sorry your mother died. I’m sorry you think the world is against you, but that gives you no right to treat me like shit. I’m done with your bullshit. Get over your fucking attachment issues. I’m done.”

You spit out all the pent up anger like lava over your best friend. He’s so angry he’s seething, torn by your unusually biting words, words from someone he thought he could trust. You can’t stop the last words of your tirade from slipping out.

“Fuck. You.”

“You wouldn’t, I’m not rich enough.”

You close your eyes, laughing darkly.

“You’re pathetic. You don’t deserve that title you carry, that saber you wield. You wonder why everyone in your life leaves, well, mystery solved. They’d rather die than suffer through what I have.��� 

You ignore the guilt building in your stomach, tears streaming down your face. You want to throw up. Anakin’s gone sheet-white, and instead of apologizing for letting your emotions take over, you turn tail and run.

You open your eyes, biting back the same jumping feeling in your stomach, like you want to puke up all your intestines and hide away in a hole for the rest of your life. Anakin won’t meet your eyes. maybe you won’t meet his.

“That was… hard to watch,” He drags out eventually. “I’d forgotten…”

“All the awful things I said?” You laugh, hollow. He nods. “You’re lucky.” Tears prick at your eyes at the memory of the pure hatred running through your veins.

“When I got home that night my sabers turned red. That’s the most hatred I’ve felt ever, for myself, not just you. I purified them, but the color never came back.”

Anakin’s eyes widen.

“I didn’t know that could happen. They did use to be blue, didn’t they.”

“Matching set,” You say. Your hands are shaking. “Anakin, I’m-“

“I’m sorry,” He darts out at the same time. He barrels on. “For doing what I did. For letting my emotions cloud my judgment. For attacking you when you were down.”

It sounds like he’s been rehearsing this apology, just like you. 

“I’m sorry, too,” You say. “Anger is never an excuse to say all those awful things, even if we weren’t in the Order.”

You fiddle with the hem of your robes.

“You changed my life.” Anakin breaks the silence. “I don’t know if it was for better or worse, but you changed me.”

“We changed each other, Anakin.”

You sit, knee-to-knee, like that, studying one another, finally at rest with what happened what feels like so long ago.

Arrival on Onapesca is a risky maneuver. The Force storms that surround the planet hide it away from your searching, and it takes almost half a day to fully breach all three barricades. You don’t know what awaits you, there’s no way to see through The Force the happenings on the planet.

You stand on deck in the small transport cruiser, Anakin at your side. You’ve cleared the cockpit, save Jex and Rex who will pilot the cruiser through the tunnel you create. The rest of your clone force is in the hill, the safest from the storm. Anakin is here for two reasons: He’s always been adept at lending you strength through The Force, and the second is a secret from him: he can take over if the strain weakens you to the point of not being able to support yourself and the ship.

Rex and Jex sit in commander’s chairs, operating the ship’s shields.

“On my count, lower the shields, Jex.”

Jex clicks a switch, salutes at you. 

“Three,” You begin. You close your eyes, holding your hands out in front of you, The shield begins to bloom from your fingertips. Anakin stands behind you, ready to grant you his strength.

“Two.”

You picture an invisible barrier between the ship and the swirling, volatile mess in front of you. You bring your arms out wide, willing your force signature to become you. 

“Now! Anakin!”

Your eyes snap open as his power overcomes you, and you plunge into the storm. 

The tricky thing with the entry to force-planets like Onapesca is that, along with the shield, you must also fend off attacks and phantoms, using an immense amount of control and drawing on The Force with the ability of a Jedi Grand Master.

Luckily, you have Anakin to aid you. 

You’re sure Jex and Rex think you look positively insane, but it’s working. 

You lash your hands out all around you, feeling the waves of energy cascading upon you, harnessing it, adding to the shield. The ship begins to pick up speed, torpedoing straight through the second storm barrier, and with it, your movements faster. 

Anakin and you, a sole being in The Force, Waves crashing over you but you don’t move, you press the water away, swimming to shore.

The high-speed noise and drag stops suddenly, bringing dead silence. You open your eyes, just to see the shield of multicolored light fade away, into a bright blue, cloudless sky. 

You look down into your home planet, all greens and shining cities, made of marble, metals and jewels, supported in the sky by the force, and the home world below, waterfalls from the islands cascading down into more of the same beautiful, mountainous landscape, refracting light, dancing like a hundred rainbows over the lakes and seas. 

The sun is going down as you approach the main capital city of Onapesca, Ostero. 

Ostero is a wonder in itself, buildings crammed together around green spaces, carved marble and gold architecture, all the forces of nature working together to build the connection to every building, a metaphor for the constant connectedness that the force brings to the world.

The people in the streets are a wide diversity of travelers and locals lucky enough to find themselves in this haven of a city, or they would be, if there were any.

The streets of the Capital are barren of any trace of life as the transport flies over them, bound for the castle. 

“That’s very unusual,” You point out to your companions: “What’s going on?”

The ship hovers over the castle. You’re jolted into Anakin, and you both fall to the floor, you on top of him. He grunts softly, and you roll off him.

“I’ve lost control of the cruiser!” Jex calls out. Rex is clicking furiously at the buttons.

Then it hits you.

“Oh!” You facepalm. “The hanger uses a Force pulley to bring in ships! I completely forgot about that!”

“You remember that from when you were seven?” Anakin asks, incredulously.

“No, I read it in the mission brief.”

Sure enough, the cruiser is being reeled downwards. You rush over and shut off the engine entirely, completely trusting the Force pulley to not send you crashing down.

“Things work different here on Onapesca, boys.” Your lips curve into the smile as the familiar hangar comes into view. “It’s almost like magic.”

It starts with fanfare, and you think, okay, this is normal. Trumpets and horns and big leaves and colorful sparks heralding your return.

Then comes the weeping. Lines of citizens weeping happily, to which all of your companions seem very awkward about.. Truth is, this is a little out of the ordinary.

After the weeping, when you step into the first courtyard that the hanger precedes, it gets really weird. Banners with your face on them in the Onapescan script that you can only haltingly understand. Statues of you and your family facing the sky. 

“Is this normal?” Anakin whispers. Jex and your crew are having an absolute field day with one of the particularly racy statues of you - a statue with a physique so drastically different from yours it’s, admittedly, funny.

“Absolutely not. Skipp, I’ll skin you alive if you send that holo to anyone.”

The aisle set out for you leads to a set of double doors entering the first lift, but they don’t open when you try them with a wave of your hand.

“What-“

“Your Majesty!”

it seems almost directed at you, so you turn your head, to see a disheveled looking old man in long robes - robes of a priest, the King’s right hand man- running towards you from one of the floating stone lifts off the path. 

“…Pieth?”

Pieth is older, frailer and thinner than he was when you last saw him, but he’s almost the same otherwise. Your Uncle’s best friend and companion, Pieth had tried to mentor you before realizing you were Jedi. 

“You’ve arrived! Ha ha ha!” he does a strange little dance. He was always a little eccentric, that Pieth. 

“Pieth, I’m here to respond to the distress call? I’ve brought a small clone battalion and a fellow Jedi Knight to assist you-“

“My dear friends!” Pieth rushes into an embrace with Anakin, who eyes you, paralyzed. “Thank you for accompanying our Queen and assisting us!”

Wait. 

“Pieth… did you say…”

This is the first time Pieth falls silent. 

“Pieth, my uncle? It was he who sent the distress call?”

Pieth glances at your companions, eyes hovering on Anakin, whose whole body is tense. Like you, he and the clones have made the same connection as you.

“The late King Karthik died the last week. Our people have been in mourning and in hiding for fear of the virus that killed him.”

Your mouth drops open. Queen of Onapesca?

The death of your uncle, while tragic, was not unexpected. He had always been sickly, and that had been many cycles ago. You’re actually surprised he even lasted this long.

“The throne… Is mine?” 

“Traditionally, the throne falls to the heir with the strongest pull to the Force. In this instance, this is you, and with your companions, you will be the most capable Queen of Onapescan history.”

You share a look with Anakin. 

“Pieth, I think you’ve drastically misunderstood my purpose here.” You glance around the courtyard, the statues all making sense now. “I’m here to respond to a distress call, Not to become Queen of Onapesca. Also, my only force-sensitive companion is Master Skywalker, these men are some of the finest soldiers in the Republic, yes, but they are no Force-users.”

Pieth smiles knowingly, waving a hand. You turn to see some shrubbery between two statues of you doing increasingly raunchy poses part, leaving…

“Ahsoka!” Anakin barks. Ahsoka at least has the sense to look sheepish. You tilt your head. Being back on Onapesca has really messed with your ability to sense presences. 

Anakin practically drags Ahsoka over to you. She’s a mess of scrawny elbows and knees, orange skin blushing slightly as she glances at you, undoubtedly checking if you’re mad. You could never be, of course. You grin and wink at her, much to Anakin’s disdain. 

“Come, your majesty. Honored soldiers. High Priest and Priestess.”

Ahsoka and Anakin both stare at you behind Piethz Ahsoka mouths, What the Fuck! and Anakin hisses at her, Ahsoka! We don’t say the fuck word!, ensuing a hushed argument behind you, and all you can do is let Pieth tell you of the happenings on Onapesca, in revelry of your new title.

What does this mean, becoming Queen of Onapesca?

Will you be able to give the throne away? 

Or will you have to leave the Jedi Order entirely?

-

oooooook so…

I sort of have a plan for the rest of this series (like 5 more parts), so those are gonna come around eventually.

On a separate note, i’ve been busy with end of school stuff for the past month or so, so sorry for the weird update timings.

thanks for reading!!

#anakin skywalker #star wars #anakin and ahsoka #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #captain rex #clone wars imagine #clone trooper fives #lightsaber #starwars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #disaster lineage #it took me a long time #clone wars ahsoka #rex and jex bestie clones #clones #flashback #it’s been a long month #star wars jedi

[fxlling13]

13 x (fem) reader

My home

Synopsis: you convince the doctor to spend a day with you on earth. You didn't however plan to run into your mother.

Warnings: homophobia

I needed a comforting 13 fic after loosing her :(

"Come on doctor. Its fun i promise!" I had been begging her for the past ten minutes. All I wanted was to go shopping. On earth, I might add.

"We can get cake?" Perking up, the blonde pulled down a lever which sent the ship spiralling. Finally, always the sweet tooth. Throwing on my hoodie, I allowed the doctor to grab my hand and pull me out of the tardis. Definitely earth, definitely England and definitely Manchester. Home. Which meant, shopping centre. Seeing as she'd never been here before, I dragged her along until we came to the main part of town. It was busy, like usual. I had missed this honestly. Sure, the universe was amazing. But, sometimes, you need home comforts to recharge.

For an hour, we weaved in and out of shops. Buying things and judging the latest fashion trends. The doctor, having her own unique style, wasn't a fan of much but I made sure to but what she did. Not because I wanted her attention or anything. Definitely not. Not at all. Anyway, heading up to the second floor of the shopping centre, I paused for a moment. We had been walking for a while and my arms hurt from the bags.

"Are you tired, love?" Gosh, did she have to call me such cute names? It made me blush every time.

"A little. How about we go get cake now? There's a-"

"(Y/n)?" Freezing up, I felt my heart stop and my blood run cold. Turning round, I came face to face with my mother. Feigning a smile, I shifted awkwardly and I could tell the doctor was confused.

"Hey." There was a wave of nervousness in my voice as my mum furrowed her brows.

"You've been gone for six months abd all you say is hi? Where the hell were you?" Swallowing thickly, I began playing with my fingers.

"Travelling." Whilst that wasn't exactly a lie, she knew something was up.

"What? Where? With who?" Before I could respond, i felt the doctor arm slip round my shoulders.

"With me." My mother took a step back, a look of confliction on her face.

"And who are you?"

"I'm the doctor, its nice to meet you." Holding her hand out, i cringed as my mum rejected it. Straightening out her jacket, mother turned her nose up slightly. This wasn't going to end well.

"You've been gone for six months, travelling with a woman? What is she to you?" Turning red, I stuttered over my words as I couldn't find the strength to tell the truth. She wad just a friend. That's all she'd ever be.

"Because if this woman has romantic intentions. You will be going back to that camp." My face drained and I swear I felt my hands go numb. The thought of going back there terrified me. The doctors arm moved to hold my waist, pulling me against her side securely.

"I'm sorry? What camp is this then?" Tears built up in my eyes, my head cast downwards.

"Because I really hope you're talking about dummer camp right now." She was angry, I could tell.

"Of course not. Straight camp. If you've corrupted my daughter I will have her fixed." The blonde went silent from shock. Maybe she'd never heard anyone talk like this? After all, her species were thousands of years ahead of our own. It wouldn't surprise me.

"Theres nothing to fix here apart from your disgusting attitude." My head shot up and I saw the Astonishment on my mothers features.

"What if I love your daughter? There's nothing that needs fixing." Looking over to me, my mum almost looked depressed.

"You love this woman?" Maybe the doctor would think I was just playing along with her. As far as I was aware, she didn't actually love me.

"Yes. Yes I do." Clearly disgusted, it took a moment to register that she was getting closer to us.

"You're such a disappointment (y/n). You always have been." Getting worked up, I stepped forward completely exasperated.

"Me? What about you? All you've ever done is look down on me! You were never there for me! I have been alone my entire life because of you. You're the worst mother I c-" a sharp pain spread through my cheek and I heard the doctor gasp. She had slapped me. All at once, everything hit me and I felt my knees go weak. Luckily, the doctor caught me before I hit the ground.

"Say goodbye to your daughter, because you won't be seeing her again." Picking me up effortlessly, I buried my face into her shoulder out of embarrassment.

"You can't take her away from me!" Chuckling, the doc tilted her head patronisingly.

"Watch me."

Of course, we headed back to the tardis immediately. The day was now ruined and it was all my fault. Like usual. Sitting me down on the steps, the doctor set her ship going, floating out into space. Putting my head in my hands, I sniffled quietly.

"Hey, it's okay now." Coming to sit next to me, the blonde rested her hand on my back.

"I always ruin everything."

"That was not your fault. Okay?" Giving her a doubtful look, she sighed and brought me into her embrace.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Resting my head on her chest, I listened to her heartbeats and relaxed a little.

"I didn't think it was important." Her fingers ran through my hair slowly.

"What did they do to you, love?" Ignoring my blush, I cleared my throat and thought back over my time there.

"Every day was the same. Wake up. No food. They'd sit us down and force us to watch these dystopian skits. Of straight couples. Of normal people." Taking a deep breath, I looked up to meet her golden eyes and smiled weakly.

"If we refused the programing, they'd electrocute us. Or deprive us of sleep and water." The doctor cupped my cheek, running her thumb along it softly.

"Your mother did that to you?" Nodding at her question, the doctor pressed her lips together to supress her anger.

"She's threatened to send me back twice now. Just now and the last time I went home." Telling her this, I laughed half heartedly abd rubbed my eyes.

"Why did she the first time?" The doctor asked, keeping me in her hold securely. It was warm and safe this close to her. If I slipped away, everything would collapse around me. That's how it was in my head anyway. Her question scared me though. Because, if I was honest, I could ruin anything. Then again, I hated lying to her.

"Because I kept talking about you." I admitted, digging my nails into my palms out if reflex.

"I kept talking about the pretty blonde girl who I saw every day. Who I lived with. The one who stays up all night watching movies with me. The person I..." Trailing off, I swallowed down those thoughts about shook my head.

"The person you what?" Of course, the doctor was ever persistent. Needing to know everything to see if she could help. Lip wobbling, I gazed at her with a sad smile.

"The person I love." Realisation set in on her face slowly but I was quick to keep talking. To try and distract from that point.

"Of course she thought I was lying. Told me to stop making stuff up or I'd be sent back to camp." It was hard to speak as tears were forcing there way out and I had started shaking.

"(Y/n)..." Ignoring her, I sniffed harshly and looked away.

"But its fine. Can't go home. Can't stay here b-"

"(Y/n)!" Fliching from her sudden yell, the doctor turned me towards her and smiled reassuringly.

"Take a breath." Doing as she said, I breathed out and bit down on my lip to stop the crying.

"Why can't you stay here?" Confused by her question, I looked at her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which it was. Wasn't it?

"I just told you, I love you. Its embarrassing to be around when it's unrequited." There was a pause before I heard laughter. The doctor was laughing. Why was she laughing?

"Oh love, I told you out there didn't I?" Shrugging my shoulders put of confusion, the elder stroked my cheek lovingly.

"I told your mother. So what if I loved you?" Sitting myself up properly, I stared at her in awe. Surely not?

"You were just..."

"Being honest." She finished off for me, scooting closer subtly. My eyes flicked between hers and then to her lips. She was doing the same. Grabbing her braces, I pulled her in and pressed my lips against hers. Without hesitation, she kissed back, arms encircling my waist. Carefully, she moved me onto her lap, not breaking the kiss for a moment. Her hand climbed up my thigh causing me to gasp in surprise. Taking the chance, she deepened the kiss and pressed her tongue against my own. My lungs were screaming at me for air and I wad left breathless as the doctor finally pulled away.

"Better?" Giggling slightly, I felt myself grow shy and look down to the floor.

"Much better." Without warning, she stood up and hoisted me to my feet.

"Come on. Let's get you cosy. I know that's what you want."

Sitting myself in the king sized bed, I immediately felt all my bones relaxing. The duvet was so thick and warm, the pillows extra fluffy. Not to mention the fuzzy blanket. Perfect. Well, almost. The doctor walked in and climbed in beside me. It was still strange to see her in anything other than her usual attire. But she looked really cute like this. Opening my arms, she looked at me confused.

"Can't I hold you doctor?" She looked shocked at my request but soon sank into my hold. Her head rested on my chest and her arm draped over my waist. I couldn't help but nuzzled my face into her hair. I had dreams like this, but they were never this pleasant.

"What movie are you putting on?" She asked, making no effort to move at all. Chuckling, I ran my fingers through her hair before kissing her head.

"I'm not sure, any requests?" Looking down at the doctor, I could tell she was tired. Though, she'd never admit it of course. Feeling like, just because she was a timelord, she didn't have to bother with any of that stuff. But, of course, it was obvious.

"Something quiet. Easy." Deciding to just put any random film on, I settled down and brought her flush against me. I could hear the doctors breathing even out, telling me she was asleep. Feeling proud that she actually felt secure enough to fall asleep around me, I smiled and allowed my eyes to close. Maybe our relationship was strange, risky almost. That didn't matter, all that mattered was the here and now. Because she was my home.

#doctor who x y/n #doctor who #the doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader

[channieandhisgoonsquad]

Winter Blunderland (Part One)

Word Count: 980

Warnings: Suggestive comments, mention of weight concerns

Comments: Hmmm... I just keep thinking of this to write. Of course it's for my bias and my wreckers first. I would love to keep writing for SKZ but this is a great start. <3

Summary: Isn't it such an unfortunate thing when you are stuck somewhere you don't want to be? Like a fucking airport. :(

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

This wasn't happening.

The universe was playing a sick joke.

As y/n went up to the counter she noticed all the others that were gathering around. The flocking and concerned looks were confirming all of her fears.

The flight was delayed until the thick of the storm passed through.

Everyone was stuck here on Christmas fucking Eve. They were guessing ten hours. What is anyone supposed to do for ten hours? All of the stands and restaurants close in an hour.

Instead of trying to get a word in, y/n decided to find a seat before the others started filling them up. There weren't any free tables to set up a tablet, so she looked for a chair that wasn't in the dead center of the seating area.

By the window, there was a row of four chairs facing the frozen nightmare. She decided this was better than looking at strangers, especially if she was really going to attempt privacy and getting a couple hours of sleep to kill time.

Y/n decided to plop down on the left most chair, to allow someone to sit on the farthest seat and not be the dick that makes everything awkward.

She leans back into the firm chair that was obviously meant as a temporary seat, not for half a day of relaxation. With only a travel pillow and a thin blanket for the actual plane ride, comfort didn't seem to be in the cards anytime soon.

This bullshit shouldn't be happening. Her family really fucked her over this time.

The plan had been to get together at her grandma's house for the holidays. But NO. They decided last second to accept her aunts invitation to go out to Phoenix. Who wouldn't want to go somewhere warm when all you've seen the last two months is snow and slush? Because Y/n definitely wanted to. But the time she had taken off didn't give her many options to get to Phoenix except for the day before the actual holiday.

And now, the winter laughed in her face and told her she would spend at least the first six hours of Christmas with strangers and her book instead. Life was taking a big shit on this vacation already.

"Fuck-" She heard the soft curse from her right. After the small noise pulled her from her self pity party, y/n looked over and saw a man with purple hair sitting on the other end of the bench. The guy had on a white t-shirt and a jacket with lots of jewelry. He was digging through his shoulder bag with his muscular ring-clad fingers, presumably looking for something. His face was covered, but that didn't stop her from admiring the deep purple of his hair. She had always wanted to try pulling off that gorgeous purple but, instead, found herself stuck with the firetruck red and orange tips.

After a very dramatic huff from the man she had been staring at, he sensed someones eyes on him and made direct contact with y/n's. She smiled politely and the man apologized for his cursing. She chuckled at his manners, being the sailor that she is.

"It's not a problem. Did you find what you're looking for?"

He held his eye contact for a second as he thought how to respond, "Sorry my English is not very good."

"Oh no, I'm sorry-"

"My phone is dead."

"You need a charger? Do you have an iPhone?" He nodded, and so you looked in your backpack for your travel charger. You held the cord out to him and he grabbed it. His hand was slightly calloused, but comfortably warm.

"Thank you." Y/n felt a blush creep up. His hand was warm and his smile was even warmer. She admired his beautiful tanned skin and the way his smile made his deep brown eyes scrunch up. This wasn't just a man, this was a gorgeous god that should definitely be a model. Probably is based off the designer brand bag and shirt you saw.

He looked under the edge of the chair and to the side of the bench, feeling around for a plug, and realized that the charging tower was next to the pretty red head that just gave him this cord.

She followed where his eyes went and realized what he was looking at. Her eyes widened when she caught on, "Oh, you can sit over here."

He stood from his seat and brought his bag over with him. She grabbed her own stuff and went to the opposite end of the bench.

"You can stay over here. This is your spot. But, could you watch my phone? I want food." She nodded and sat with one seat between them to still allow for some personal space.

"My name's Y/n by the way, since you're leaving me with your stuff, you know." She shook her head at him when she realized this guy didn't even know her name. She was so freaking awkward; always forgetting to introduce herself to people she starts talking to. And he was going to just leave his valuables with her.

"Minho." Was all he managed to say, still finding it hard to translate his thoughts to the cool woman that was treating him as if they've know each other for more than three minutes. She may have felt awkward, but Minho didn't see it that way at all.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

#lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #skz lee know #skz lee minho #lee know #lee minho #jyp stray kids #stray kids #stray kids lino #stray kids lee know #stray kids lee minho #I love him #winter blunderland #loml #love of my liiiiife #lino #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #lee know imagines #lee know scenarios #lee minho scenarios #lee minho imagines

[jmdbjk]

Interior decor is self-expression

I do think it’s kind of peculiar that Jungkook admitted that he did not decorate his apartment. (By the way, for anyone thinking he was using a computer while entertaining us, he was using an Apple TV remote to look for songs.)

Remember everyone making a big deal out of the Marvel action figure showcase/shrine in that picture of Bam? The same room we saw a few times in other photos of Bam and his brother’s dogs...

The interior walls of the action figure room don’t look the same as his v live kitchen.

As artsy as JK is and the fact he has a big dog...seems like his apartment would consist of more than what we just learned...

So if he doesn’t decorate his apartment, those pictures of Bam are most likely not his apartment. JK shared that photo of Bam on IG in early December 2021 while in COVID isolation after returning from Los Angeles. 

BACK TO THE CAR SHARING/LIVING ARRANGEMENTS DEBATE:

At that time, Jungkook waited about 15 minutes for Jimin to get through customs at the airport. We saw that Jimin was headed to the same car as Jungkook upon arrival back from Los Angeles, only to be led by the arm to another waiting vehicle. They thought they would be traveling together in the same vehicle, otherwise why wait for Jimin? In this case, they had an extra vehicle waiting. Because their team knew they were headed to different destinations. 

So Jimin went to his own apartment and Jungkook must have gone to his brother’s to isolate – his immediate family. Not to HIS own apartment which is barren of furniture and only has mattresses, air purifiers and scent diffusers. Because he wouldn’t have had any creature comforts like real dishes there for a ten day isolation because he doesn’t actually live there. 

Granted, that was six months ago and the kitchen in which he did his V Live the other day could be a new apartment. Maybe he didn’t own Mattress World/Dining Room Laundry Shrine back in December. We don’t know. Regardless, he washed two stainless steel mixing bowls and was drinking wine out of a coffee cup. He doesn’t actually live there full time. If he bought a new apartment, where are the information sleuths who always find out this stuff? Where’s the real estate purchase records that everyone shares to the world when one of them buys property? They don’t have a problem outing any other personal info so where is this if it was a recent acquisition? If its because they’ve taken steps to protect their private information better then YAY!

And when they returned from Las Vegas this past April, Jimin and Jungkook left the airport together after being on an airplane for at least 15 hours. That was 8 or 9 weeks ago, about two months. The car Jimin was in waited about 20 minutes for Jungkook...in this case, I would assume they were headed to the same place or to places that were very close to each other. But I am leaning to the same place. 

In that one Run BTS (ep. 149) where they were divided into two teams and they were all decorating their space and Jimin and Jungkook started arguing over where to place the furniture? As if perhaps they had that conversation before? 

It’s things like that I need to remember happened so I can get my perspective back so just give me some time and I think we will all get through this.

#jikook #kookmin #minkook #your living space decor will reflect your personality #we make our living spaces suit our comfort levels #car sharing and living arrangements AGAIN

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

I love your Bleeding out series. I love the alternate ending where reader faints. Now I can’t help imagine if reader had actually woken up and decided that she needed some space to think and went to stay at the compound. Worrying Wanda and Natasha.

BUT! BUT HERES THE RESULT: The next day, Reader just needed a moment and comes back and is extremely thrilled and happy to be a mum alongside her two loves of her life, now with a little one on the way!

Authors note: Hopefully this is the right amount of angst for you!

Word count: 4601          

Warnings: angst that lasts only a smidge

WandaNat Masterlist    Marvel Masterlist   Bleeding Out Masterlist

    They hadn’t noticed the door open while they were talking, Steves voice startled them slightly, “I have a solution for that.”

    “You're serious?” Nat asks, “You can really go back and get her?”

    He smiles at them,  “I went and got you, didn’t I?”

    “You did, but there's a big difference between bringing someone three days into the future versus six years into the future.” she says

   “True some things and people will be different but for the most part the team is the same so that should make it easy enough for her to adjust. Plus she’ll have the two of you and me there to explain it all to her before we bring her home.” he tells them

   “We’re going with you?” Wanda asks

   “Honestly if you don’t I don’t know how I'll convince her I’m telling the truth.” he reasons

   “Good point. Tony and I only believed you because you had all six stones, and looked at both of us like a wounded puppy. And we knew time travel was possible, Y/n doesn't.” Nat says

   “Right. So let's go to the platform and get some quantum suits on the two of you and grab an extra for Y/n.” he says

   The three quickly, and excitedly make their way outside to the platform. Bruce hands both women their quantum suits which they put on and Bucky hands Steve a briefcase with an extra quantum suit in it. Steve motions to the platform as Nat looks at him, she grabs Wandas hand and leads her up onto the platform where Steve joins them.

   “What day are we going back to?” Wanda asks

   “The day she died, before she can get on the quinjet to leave for the mission.” he replies looking at Bruce, who gives him a thumbs up.

   “See you in a minute”  Nat says before the three head off for the past

Avengers compound, 2017

    “Alright, looks like it's about eight in the morning. Where was she at this time?”

    Wanda blushes, “Uhm, her and Nat were still in bed, with me….saying goodbye.”

   “Oh, well…uh” Steve says rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks heat up

    Nat smirks, “It was a really nice goodbye.”

   “Ok, ok. Thank you. When will she be alone?” Steve asks

   “In about ten minutes she’ll come down for breakfast with Tasha.” Wanda says

   Nat nods, “Then afterwards she heads to the training room to get some last minute exercising in while I get all of our stuff loaded into the quinjet.”

   He nods, “Alright, you two go and hide in the training room. Once she heads in I’ll make sure no one else can interrupt your conversation.” 

   “Got it” Nat says, pulling Wanda along the hallway by their still joined hands. 

   They head into the training room and Wanda looks around for an adequate place to hide despite knowing that her girlfriend, the Russian spy, certainly already had a place in mind. Sure enough Nat leads them over to a large stack of mats that are used to cover the floor when someone is sparring, and tucks them both behind it.

   “We’ll wait here” she says, earning a nod from the other woman

   The minutes pass by slowly, feeling more like hours to the two redheads. Probably due to their nervousness and excitement to see you again. Natasha couldn't wait to see you again, to be able to hear your voice call out to her, to feel you next to her and Wanda in bed at night and so much more. Wanda felt those things too, but what she missed the most was being able to hold you holding her in return as you pepper kisses onto her neck. 

   They both hold their breath when they hear the training room door open and they know it's you instantly, no matter how many years they've been apart from you they would always know you, the way you walked, the way you hummed along to your music. How could they ever forget. 

  They both peek around their makeshift barrier to view you. For a few moments they simply watch you take swing after swing at the punching bag in front of you, both not wanting to move, afraid this wasn’t real. But suddenly Wanda just can’t hold back her reaction and Natasha finds she's unable to stop the witch.

   Wanda runs up and tackles you in a hug, taking you to the ground. You let out a chuckle before removing your headphones, “Baby, we've only been apart for like half an hour.”

   She lets out a sob at that, god if only you knew. Two years, that's how long it’s been since she's been able to hold you, to feel you, to hear you. And mind you for one of those years, she was gone for five so she can’t imagine how Nat must feel. She’s been without you for six years.

   Finally you look down, “Wan, why are you crying?” too focused on the woman herself to notice her strange outfit

   “Because we've missed you so much Y/n.” Nat says as she makes her way over to you

   Your head tilts slightly as you take in her appearance. Her odd outfit wasn’t the only thing wrong here. Her hair was different, like vastly and unexplainably different from ten minutes ago. And there was a deep sadness to her eyes, unlike the brightness that you knew to be there.

   “You're not Natasha.” you say, but quickly figure out a better way to word it once you see her visabley recoil, “Well, maybe you are. You just aren’t my Natasha, the one I just left in the kitchen. Which also means, you aren’t my Wanda.” 

   Apparently that wasn’t the right phrasing either though because she lets out another sob and holds you tighter, burying her head deeper in your chest. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t the Wanda you knew, you still hated seeing her so upset so of course you gently rub her back as she cries. You look to the far more composed Natasha for answers, though you can now see tears escaping her eyes as well.

    “We are your Natasha and Wanda.” she says with a tremble of her bottom lip.

   You nod your head, “Right well, you’ll pardon me for not believing that. I just spent the past few hours with my girlfriends so believe me when I say you might be them, from some other universe or you're very good fakes of some sort. I’m leaning more towards clones than robots though since, you know, tears. Or you’ve got those veil things on your faces that Tasha uses to change her identity. But you aren’t the women I just spent my morning with, you're not the women I know and love.”

   She sits on the floor next to you since it was apparent that this Wanda wasn’t going to let you move, though you had been allowed to sit up so long as you brought her with you. She slowly and carefully reaches for your hand and smiles when you allow her to lace her fingers between yours. 

   “We are your girlfriends kotenok(kitten), you did just spend the morning with us.” you go to argue but she gives you a stern look so you allow her to continue, “We made love with Wanda before we had to leave to get ready for the mission, like always. Then you and I ate breakfast, you made us waffles in the new waffle maker Tony got. Then you came here and I was going to load our stuff onto the quinjet and once Clint and Bucky were ready I said I would come get you.”

    You look at her, searching her eyes as she tells you all that you've done this morning. Tells you it like she was there, and you realize it's because she was there. Though for this Nat it's been a few years instead of just this morning ‘We’ve missed you so much Y/n.’ That's what she had said, and coupled with Wandas inconsolable sobbing, you put it all together.

    “So you aren’t from some other universe then?” you ask, only slightly teasing

    “No. Same universe, just a few years ahead.” she answers

   You take a deep breath as you look down at the crying Sokovian on your lap, your hand stops rubbing her back in order to play with her hair. She always liked when you did that, you smile when she leans into your touch. You look back up at the other redhead.

   “I die today, don’t I?” you ask, knowing the answer. Why else would they miss you so incredibly that they travel back in time to this very moment. 

    She breaks down, crying almost as hard as Wanda as she nods her head. She finds the word Yes is much too hard to say in that moment. You release her hand only to pull her into your embrace as well.

   You let out a watery chuckle, “Wow, the two of you must really love me to travel back in time to see me.”

   Wanda finally looks up at you, “Of course we love you detka(baby), but we didn’t just come to see you. We came to bring you home.”

   Nat buries her head in your neck allowing you to feel her tears against your skin, “We love you so much. Please come back with us, please.” she begs

   You cup Wandas face and squeeze Nat a little tighter, “I love you both too, but won’t me leaving this time like, I don’t know, mess up something in the timeline or some such nonsense?”

   “No, the teams already tried it. They brought me and Tony back.” she states

   You try your best to look at her, “Wait, you died?” 

   “She sacrificed herself for the stupid soul stone.” You give Wanda a look that reminds Nat of Steve when Tony was explaining how to work a cell phone

   “I’ll simplify. Thanos came and he took out half the universe, Wanda included, once he was able to get all six stones and put them into his special gauntlet. After five years Tony figured out time travel so we went back to various times to get the stones to undo what he had done, but the soul stone needed a sacrifice and I wasn’t going to just let Clint throw his life away so…”Nat explains

   “I imagine he didn’t just let you die. I’m also assuming the plan worked since Wanda is here now.” you say

   “Yes Clint tried to be the sacrifice but you know how stubborn Tasha is. Bruce snapped bringing everyone back and Tony eventually realized that the only way to win was for a hero to snap Thanos and his army away, which killed him.” Wanda answers

   “Steve, upon seeing how much Pepper, Morgan and Wanda missed us, went to get us when he returned the stones to their proper time.” Nat continues

   “I was with you until Morgan.” you say

   “Oh, right. Tony and Pepper had a daughter.” the Russian explains

   “Now that you know it won’t mess anything up, will you please come back with us?” Wanda asks while Nat looks at you

   You smile, “You know I could never say no to my girls.”

   Steve must be getting a sixth sense because just then he enters, you look at the man in the same suit as your girls and realize he came for you too “Better get your suit on then.” he says passing you a briefcase after your girlfriends let you stand

   You quickly put it on, looking over its various details as you do so. Your girlfriends and Steve watch, wide smiles on their faces.

   “Glad you said yes Y/n.” he says, clapping you on the back once your ready

  “I couldn’t have said no Cap, they're my girls and they missed me.” you answer before a helmet closes around your head and the others.

Present day, 2023

   Theres some lights, an odd sensation and then you're on a platform next to a cabin and a lake with Bucky, Sam and Bruce in his Hulk form looking at you. The two men smile before rushing to you, engulfing you in a hug. You return the gesture before Steve manages to pull them away muttering about not keeping me from the girls.

   “Welcome to 2023 Y/n!” Hulk, er actually Bruce you supposed, says with a wave before he focus back on his laptop

   “Thanks Bruce. I’m sure I’ll manage to fit in.” you reply, taking your girlfriends hands.

   It’s been about a week since your return, or whatever one would call traveling to the future to avoid dying, and every minute since then has been spent with your girls. You had moved into the apartment Natasha and Wanda had got together after they lost you, there was plenty of room for the three of you there and they were so incredibly happy to have you back. 

   You didn’t mind the constant snuggles, hand holding, kisses or hugs they both subjected you to. And you certainly didn’t mind that they took extra special care of you during sex the past few nights. Your girls seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did.

   Wanda had truly enjoyed last night, in fact she enjoyed it so much that she couldn’t help but have the most wonderful dream. Just the three of you living in this cute little house on a few acres of land. You all talked about how much you loved each other, how you wanted to get married and start a family. That had really resonated with the Sokovian because she really did want a family with you and Natasha, and she knew how badly Nat wanted to be a mom.

 �� It was such a good dream that upon waking up, she wished she could go back into it. That is until she absentmindedly put her hand on her stomach, her stomach which was now quite a bit larger than it should be.

   “Oh my god!” she exclaims as she jumps out of the bed, causing you and Nat to wake with a start. 

   You flail around and fall right out of the bed, landing face down on the floor with a thud as your nose connects with the wood. Nat is much more composed and sits up straight, grabbing the gun she kept under the pillow, which she quickly puts away when she notices you fall and Wanda with a hand on her larger than normal belly dart into the bathroom. 

   Wait, what. Is…is she pregnant? No that's not possible…is it? Even if it was, how is she that far along already?  Nats scrambled thoughts are broken when she hears you

   “Fuck.” you exclaim as you sit up up your elbows and see the blood dripping to the floor below your face

   “You ok down there?” she asks as she leans over to get a look at you

   You look up at her and notice her worried expression, “You tell me”

    “Oh, kotenok(kitten).” she says as she slides out of the bed to join you on the floor. Her hands gently cup your face as she looks at your nose, “It’s not broken, but you're definitely going to be bruised.”

   You groan, “Well, at least it doesn't need realignment.”

   “No, but it does need to be cleaned. You've got a gash on the side over here.” she responds

   “Well, before we deal with my nose, why don’t you go check on Wan. She's never woken up like that before and I’m worried.” you admit

   Nat realized then that you didn’t see what she did, “Yeah, of course. I’ll be right back.” she tells you as she walks over to the bathroom door, knocking, “Wan, it's Tasha. I’m coming in, ok?” she says out loud while  her thoughts of Dorogoy(Sweetheart) I saw you, let me in and we can figure this out together ok? Make their way into the Sokovians mind

   “Okay.” she replies softly, not trusting her own voice after seeing herself in the bathroom mirror. She had to be at least two if not three months along, which is impossible considering she wasn’t with child at all just last night.

   The door opens as Natasha enters, shutting it softly behind her. Her eyes take in the sight in front of her, her girlfriend was definitely and suddenly very pregnant. The Russian would be lying if this didn’t excite her though, she's always wanted to be a mom and to be able to have a family with Wanda and you would be everything she’d ever want in life. She walks over to the other woman, who looks much like a deer caught in the headlights at the moment.

   “How?” is all the Russian can manage. Wanda simply shakes her head at this, understanding the mix of confusion and excitement because she feels the same way. 

   “I don’t know! Unless, oh my god, Tasha. I had a really good dream last night where we had kids and I remember thinking how badly I wanted that, a family with the loves of my life. And when I woke up I was like this.” she says

   “You're thinking your magic somehow did this?” Nat asks, which she admits does make sense. 

   “Do you have some other way to explain this?” she asks resting a hand on her bump

   “No” she says as she also places a hand on Wandas belly, a smile growing on her face “I love you.” she says before kissing the other woman

   Wandas hands wrap around her neck, keeping her close after they pull apart, “I love you too Tasha.”

   She knew the Russian would be happy about this news. Not that she thought you wouldn’t be, but she was worried about what you would think. You've been through a lot recently. You saw future versions of your girlfriends tell you you died, they brought you to 2023 where you were having to adjust to certain changes with people and things, you’d only been here for a week and now this. She worried it was too much too fast, that you'd like the idea of having a family just not right now and she didn’t know what to do if that was the case. She didn’t even know how she managed to do this and she and Nat wanted this so undoing it was out of the question.

   “Hey, talk to me. What's wrong?” Nat asks when she notices the tears building in the others eyes

   “What if Y/n isn't ready for this yet, what if everything is happening faster than she wants it or what if she doesn't want this at all Tasha?” she says as she starts to cry

   She holds her girlfriend tighter, “Shhh, sweet girl. Y/n loves us so much, there's no way she couldn’t want a family with us.”

   “That doesn't mean she wants that family right now.” Wanda almost sobs at the thought of you rejecting her current state, rejecting her and then Natasha too.

   Nat goes to answer but is cut off by a knock at the door, “I love you both very much but one, I’m starting to worry and two I really need to get cleaned up.” your muffled voice says through the wood of the door

   Wanda practically freezes so Nat takes it upon herself, “Doors open Y/n!” she tells you

   You open the door and your eyes are immediately drawn to Wanda, more specifically her stomach. Her eyes however are immediately drawn to your nose, partially caked in dried blood while the gash still bleeds. She’s by your side, hand cupping your face before you can even blink.

   “I’m so sorry detka(baby). I didn’t mean to make you fall out of the bed and hurt yourself.” she says as she stares into your eyes

   If you were being honest you register only half that sentence. And your brain couldn’t be bothered with that half so you end up just nodding at her words as your eyes continue to look at her stomach

   “You…you're…” is all you manage to say before hitting the floor with a thud

   “Y/n!” both your girlfriends exclaim as they rush to your aid. Wandas fears of you not wanting this and leaving them eat away at her as she cradles her head in her lap. Tears cloud her eyes as she looks at a worried Natasha. The Russian didn’t have those fears at first, but after seeing you faint she worries that maybe this all is too much too quickly for you.

   Wanda can feel her anxieties build as you begin to stir in her hold. When your eyes open, your gaze moves to her prominent bump causing you to sit up quickly. Natasha doesn't miss the sadness and concern that flash across the Sokovians eyes as she watches you turn away.

   Your gaze turns to the floor in front of you as you anxiously run a hand through your hair, a sigh leaving your lips as you do so. Wandas tear filled eyes meet Natashas, silently begging her to say or ask something to try and figure out your head space since you've apparently shut her out of your head.

   “Y/n-” she starts before you cut her off

   You shake your head, abruptly standing up, “I, uh..I gotta go…..Bucky- promised Bucky, we’d train then get coffee”

   They watch with hurt expressions as you rush to your closet, apparently completely forgetting about your injured and bloody nose as you search for an appropriate outfit. Wanda nearly crumbles as she realizes she was not going to get a happy and excited reaction like Natasha had given, out of you. Nat blinks back tears of her own as she stands and slowly makes her way over to you. You nearly jump out of your skin when she gently touches your shoulder, which only worries her further.

  “Kotenok(kitten), please-” she tried but is cut off again

   “I really gotta go, Nat.” you state, “Bucky is expecting me.”

   The Russian has had enough, “So that's it? You're just not going to acknowledge any of this and rush off?” You go quiet as you slip on your workout clothes, “Answer me damnit!”

   You slowly turn to face her, noticing the tears that have begun to fall down her face. You can see Wanda, still sitting where you’d left her in the bathroom doorway, shaking slightly as her hand rests on her bump. She refuses to look up and meet your gaze, scared to potentially see disappointment or regret on your features.

   Your gaze slowly drifts back to the woman in front of you, “I’m sorry…I- I can’t do this right now.”  You quickly leave the bedroom and head for the apartment's front door. Rushing to your car and off for the compound.

   Once the front door closes Wanda breaks down, shaking with sobs as she cradles her stomach. Natasha is quick to rush to her side, engulfing her in her embrace as she allows tears to leave her eyes too.

  “T-tasha, tell me w-we didn’t just lose her again” she stutters out, “Tell me I d-didn’t make a horrible m-mistake.”

   She shakes her head, “This isn’t a mistake dorogoy(sweetheart), not at all.” she says as her hands caress the other womans stomach. “This is our baby, and our baby could never be a mistake.”

   “B-but Y/n-”

   “Shh, Y/n loves us. You know she does, so much.” she pauses to brush away Wandas tears

   “But she left.”

   “I know, I don’t think she meant to. She's just overwhelmed.” she explains, “Though that isn’t an excuse nor does it make it hurt any less.”

    As the hours pass by and nighttime settles over them Natasha can’t help but start to second guess her earlier statement. You’d gone the rest of the day without texting or calling either of them and you still haven’t come back home to them. Seeking comfort, Wanda snuggles against Natasha as they lie in bed, but it's not long before both of them jump in excitement when they each hear their phones ding with a message. They each quickly pick it up only to be filled with disappointment.

    Trained a bit too hard with Bucky. Won’t be home tonight, too tired to drive.

   That was it. No apology, no I miss you or I love you. Hell, not even a goodnight. Wanda quickly sets her phone down on the bedside table before sinking deeper into the bed. She seeks comfort in Nats side, grabbing your pillow and holding it close as she quietly begins to cry once again. 

   Natasha gets comfortable as well, wrapping her arms around the younger redhead to offer as much comfort as she can. “It’s going to be ok dorogoy(sweetheart). We’re going to be a little family.”

   Wanda shakes her head, holding tightly to the hand the older woman rests on the bump, “Won’t be right without Y/n.”

   “She’ll be here moya lyubov'(my love)” she tries to reassure despite her own fears, “She’ll come back to us.” 

   The next mourning starts agonizingly slow without you. Nat stays in bed a few hours longer than she normally would, not wanting to leave Wanda alone with her thoughts and fears. Eventually they make their way to the kitchen, intent on starting the normal routine. Just as Natasha starts making coffee, a jingle of keys grabs her attention.

   Not having the spy senses that the Russian does, Wanda still sits sipping on her tea, slightly confused by the sudden cease to the other womans movements. The sound of the front door opening and closing answers any questions she has, and she finds her feet carrying her to you. A quiet ‘oomf’ leaves you as her body collides with yours, her arms wrapping around you tightly. You're quick to return to the embrace, feeling her let out a sigh of relief.

   A quiet, “You came back”  leaves her which causes your already intense guilt to skyrocket

   “Of course I did.” you say as Nat makes her way over to you both, joining in the hug, “I’m so sorry I reacted how I did my loves. I shouldn't have just left like that. It’s no excuse, but just know it only happened because I just panicked.”

   “You were feeling overwhelmed?” Natasha asks as she looks at you, glad to have you home

   You nod, “So much has happened. I’m getting used to so much change and I just didn’t know how to handle it so I ran. I shouldn't have done that. I should have talked with the two of you. I’m so sorry that I made you think I could ever leave the two of you.”

   Your girlfriends smile as your hands caress Wadas bump, “Three of us detka(baby)”

   Your smile is bright enough to ease away the remainder of their worries, “I’d never leave the three of you. Not ever, but especially not when we're starting our family.”

   At your return and reassuring words the weight of the situation finally hits the Sokovian, “We’re having a baby, we’re really having a baby.”

   “We are.” Natasha affirms as happy tears cloud her eyes, “I love you both so much.”

   “And I love you both.” you add in

   “I love you both too, and you malyutka(little one)”

    Natasha hums, adding her hand to the bump, “Especially you.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #wandanat #wanda x natasha #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic

[its-my-whump]

Phone call 

TW: emotional whump, emotional loss, assault

She was gorgeous. Her open smile, her laugh, her silky hair, her green eyes, her soft lips. She was funny, honest, intelligent. His life was better, when she was around.

They had kissed. It was their first real date, after dancing around each other for weeks and they had actually kissed.

He felt like a teenager again, butterflies and all. It was a real date, old school. He invited her to dinner, picked her, they shared a dessert, real sassy. He brought her home, walked her to the front door and cliché or not, they kissed for the first time.

He could embrace the world. He hadn't been this happy in ages. The tall man steered his truck towards home, happily smiling to himself. The streets were empty. Yes, it was a first date, but they weren't 15 anymore and there was no curfew at ten. So it was late.

The big wheels of his vehicle rolled over still warm asphalt from a sunny day in June and finally came to a stop in his driveway.

He was so happy, his feet practically hovered him inside. His house was dark. Maybe for the first time in so long, is wasn't a frightening darkness meant for hiding. It almost felt like the silence of the night was a place to linger and enjoy the warm summer night, because life was worth living.

He made his way inside, switched on the lights and reactived the alarm just after closing the front door. Tonight, this house wasn't disturbing him, the atmosphere wasn't able to eat him up as so often. Tonight he felt free.

He went for the fridge and got a beer. The positive wibe of his date let him still float on cloud numbre nine. The TV flickered on and he settle onto his comfy coach, shoes out and feet already up on the coffeetable. It was a rerun of last nights game. He already knew the scoure, but hadn't seen the game.

Nevertheless during the break after the first quarter he dozed off. At the end of the fourth quarter his phone shocked him awake. 'Who the hell would call at this hour and why hadn't he muted it?' Jumped through his head. A quick glance at the clock told him it was half past 2 am on a saturday night, or sunday morning for that matter.

Maybe she was already yarning for him. He definitely was for her. A slight smile hijacked his face.

But it wasn't his mobile on the coffeetable, that had violently charmed him out of his slumber, it was his landline. Still half asleep he made his way over.

The receiver had hardly reached his ear, when he barked into it. "Yeah?"

"Hello." The voice on the other side was speaking matter of factly, not waiting for a response. "Do you remembered the ice cream flavour, we talked about. It was recently delivered to your local 7/11. You should hurry or you'll miss it."

The line went dead. He had the receiver still in his left hand, standing by the counter dumbstruck. A few seconds passed without a movement and then his mind started racing, as his heart did. "Fuck!" Jumped out of his mouth. Panic flared up and his body jolted into action. The receiver went back on the cradle. He ran towards his bedroom, yanked open his closet and scattered clothers over the floor until he could reach a black travel bag on the upper shelf. It was already packed.

He crawled into said closet and pulled out a small safe hidden under junk and a handfull of shoes for every occasion. Hectically he punched in a six digit code. The electric beaping of every numbre and the safe unlockung finally predominated the pounding of his frantic heartbeat in his ears.

He grabbed for a Glock, a stage of bills and an ID. A magazine went into the gun. A pair of combat boots directly in front of him found their way onto his feet in lightning speed. The gun was holstered in the waistband and he put the money and ID into the pockets of his pants. An additional jacket was stuffed into his travelbag.

He shouldered the bag and got his mobile from the coffeetable. A last pityful look on its black display. He had finally been happy again. He had just fallen in love, but apparently this wasn't meant to be, as always. He would never see her gorgeous smile again. Never touch her soft skin again. Never kiss her again. 'Goddammit!' He opened the cover of the devise, pulled out the simcard and broke it in two. Everything ended up on the floor and he crushed it with his heavy boots. His expression had settled into an emotionless mask and he made for the backdoor, not bothering to switch off the TV.

After disarming the security system he approached his car from the dark backyard. The driverside door squeaked quietly and the buffers made a distinct sound, when he settle behind the steering wheel. The engine awoke.

'He had 2 years. 2 good years and he needed to fall in love just today. Or more, apparently they needed to find him exactly today, of all days. Witness protecting, my ass.' He thought. 'Somedays, he believed it would have been better, when they had just ended it then. So he hadn't had to live this life on the run. So he didn't need to be longing for a normal life, a family, children, a dog and a white picket fence.'

His fist hit the rim of the steering wheel. He took a deep breath to force his feelings down. 'Feelings only get you killed. Or they will get the one's you feel for killed.' His hand went for the shifter ball.

Suddenly cold steel touched the back of his neck. He froze, the hairs on his neck and arms suddenly standing formation, his hand still in midair, his heart apparently trying to jump out of his chest, while the air got caught inside his lungs.

"You missed me, Sonny?"

The handle went down on the side of his head with a dull sound and darkness took him.

My whumptember2023 masterlist

#Whumptember2023 #Whumptember 2023 day 10 #day 10: phone call #whump #writing #whump writing #they found me

[thedaveandkimmershow]

We flew home today.

I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it because, since we essentially arrived in Seattle a coupla hours after we left Amsterdam on a ten hour flight...

Today is literally packed with more hours in it than the usual 24.

It's a weird experience thinking major parts of today actually happened yesterday...

When it was all.

The same.

Day.

We didn't get to bed the previous night in anything remotely resembling a timely manner, by the way. After Kimmer's packing extravaganza—a feat in which she seemingly fit more than should fit our luggage into our luggage—after that it was 1:30AM. Setting a wake-up alarm for 5AM, then, left us three-and-a-half hours for, you know, actual sleep. Only I didn't get (or I didn't take) the full three-and-a-half. I got maybe two hours and then lay awake in bed, eyes closed, relaxed under the covers. Not sure what that was all about but, as my friend Ann likes to say, there you go and there you are. 🙂

Regardless of the monumental lack of sleep, I got up a few minutes after five seemingly without penalty. I didn't feel groggy or sleep-deprived. I just got up, readied the hot water for tea and coffee, woke Kimmer up, jumped in the shower and, by the time I was done, she's up and we're doing our final step of packing the last of our belongings into our luggage before zipping them closed, moving them to the door while we stream "Cunk on Earth" on Netflix and take a few moments to eat some of our food for breakfast that's part of the food we can't take home with us 'cause there's no room.

Coupla minutes to 630, my cousin texts me a "Goodmorning!!!!!" and we're on our way down to the hotel lobby where, surprise surprise, not only is my cousin waiting for us but also her daughter, my niece, both lounging on the couch. It's a surprise because my niece was supposed to be overnight in another town to the east of her hometown, with friends celebrating their new home. Instead, she cut that night short and showed up to see us away.

Which was very very very very very very VERY sweet of her. ☺️

After we squared things with our hotel, we found my cousin's husband waiting outside, car backed up to the ramp in front of the entrance. So we throw our bags in the back, jump in the car, and off we go.

I should mention here that I'm pretty proud of us 'cause this one time at the start of our marriage when we did this 'lil exercise, departing Holland a touch over thirty years ago, it was a comedy of errors. We were staying with my aunt and uncle outside of Amsterdam and we were still packing the very morning our flight was to leave. So it was a messy morning, rushed. I think my uncle might've slightly dinged a car behind and opposite his as he backed out of his parking spot in a hurry to get us to the airport on time. He was pretty classy about the whole affair, only casually remarking how my parents were always packed 'n ready a coupla days before leaving.

This time around, Kimmer packed us at the tail end of the previous day—technically the first hours of our departure day—then we slept a little, got up when we were supposed to, and were out the hotel right on time.

630AM.

Our plan's to arrive at Schiphol Airport three hours prior to our flight. Which is what happened.

So HUZZAH!!!!

😁

The night before, my niece gifted Kimmer with a candy-filled Harry Potter mug. So in the car this morning they're comparing Harry Potter merch when Kimmer asks my niece if she has any of the stickers.

No, I wish! comes the reply.

Now it so happens I have Harry Potter stickers in my rucksack 'cause I was gonna take some time on the flight to Holland placing them on my new water bottle. Never got around to it, though. So I pull them from my bag and hand them over to the back seat.

My first moment of gift-giving as an uncle. 😊

Later on the road, I recognize a bookend experience:

It's daylight again, the late morning of our first day in Holland. Monday. January 1. Six days before. We're traveling across the countryside to our hotel. The sun's out. It's been raining so the trees and grass and highway are painted with a lovely sheen. There are moist reflections in every color, on every texture, in everything we see. Which makes for a beautiful, classic Dutch pastoral scene.

On the radio, it's Depeche Mode, The Cure, and later, "Babe" by Styx. The inside of the car's basically filled with an 80s vibe. I'm talking music with my cousin's husband who's driving the car. We talk 80s music. Popular music. And, of course, music as it relates to my daughter's career as a professional musician. ☺️

Now it's six days after. It's today, this very moment, on the way to Schiphol Airport in the morning while it remains dark outside. It's nighttime for all intents and purposes even though we're navigating the space between 630 and 730 in the morning. In the front seats of the car we're talking about vacations, about traveling by car from Seattle to southern California, about driving that same distance from Holland to southern Italy. My cousin's husband describes yearly vacations ("holiday" as he refers to them) that are the equivalent of piling everyone in the car and hitting the road. In this case, he talks about arriving in Tuscany. He talks about arriving in Genoa. He talks about avoiding hard-case luggage in favor of duffle bags. He talks about traveling through Switzerland, driving the never-ending Gotthard Tunnel, traveling over the mountains when the tunnel's backed up. He describes one vacation they showed up on an Italian beach and no one was there. He describes various strategies for doing this holiday including splitting the 16-hour drive in two with a stayover in Switzerland, allowing for a 10AM casual departure on the first day of their travels. Returning home, the driving strategy becomes a single, mostly overnight, drive to avoid traffic.

It's fun to compare the way we take family vacations, family holiday. It's fun to compare all the things about them that are the same and the very few things that are different.

We also talk about traffic leading into Amsterdam, traffic cams on the outskirts of Amsterdam that serve the same purpose as the traffic cams in school zones in our neck of the woods. We talk about apps he uses to spot and report speed traps and, because we hit a bird just then, we share our own personal stories of hitting birds and other animals on the road. I relate stories I heard about deer leaping right into the sides of trucks or RVs. He wins for a personal story because one time on the way home with friends, a pretty large bird impacted the front windshield, smashing it inward. He's in the back seat of the car at the time looking up something on his phone when the impact occurs. So it's a violently sudden, catastrophic experience for him.

At the same time we're talking about all these things, the back seat of the car is engaged in more relational fare. Boyfriends and girlfriends. Parenting. And school.

At one point we're talking about another one of my cousins. We're talking about their kids when my niece leans forward into the front seat space to fill us in on a few things including shared family vacations with that cousin's family and that time one of the sons was in a TikTok video with his teacher. He was pretty embarrassed by it... but the video did get a lotta views. 😁

And with these competing, complementary, and mostly overlapping conversations in play, we pull into a parking lot at the airport, pull our bags from the back of the car, and walk into the terminal, the five of us.

It's 742AM.

In case you've never been, Schiphol Airport is huge. Schilphol Airport is MASSIVE. And while SeaTac has every airline represented in the main terminal as you enter, at Schiphol there's nothing central like that. You basically figure out in which direction your terminal is then you walk a bunch until you're closer to that terminal from which your flight leaves. It's only there that you finally arrive at the self check-in kiosks and the self baggage drop.

A lotta selfs going on in this airport, I gotta say.

It's definitely a good thing our family's with us because paying for our one big piece of luggage turns into at least a ten minute ordeal. The scanner can't (or won't) read my card. Can't. Can't. Can't. Until finally, with family standing all around me, pitching me suggestions, the scanner humors me and decides to work.

So family, as it turns out, is the essential ingredient to successfully paying baggage fees at Schiphol Airport. 😉

Once that's done, I realize we're living our parent's experience because, once upon a time, my parents, too, left with a lot of family food gifts in their luggage. Once upon a time, too, they had to buy extra luggage, like my cousin did for us the previous day, to hold all those food gifts. Once upon a time, too, my aunts and uncles walked my parents through the airport, helped them with their bags. Once upon a time, too, my aunts and uncles bade my parents farewell in this very airport with embraces and kisses on the cheek.

What was true then, it turns out, remains true today. I think the only difference is that we're more huggers these days.

Another difference, I think, is that we're more likely to draw this moment out because we don't want it to end. We can always think of more conversations to have, more pictures to take.

In the end, we say the things we need to say to each other, the things we want to say. And I'm sure after one round of hugs and a subsequent impromptu conversation, we indulged another round of hugs as if the first one never happened.

For me, my regret is leaving this family. This one and the larger one with whom we navigated the week. I'm also caught by the realization that it would've been a pretty cool thing to have known my cousin's husband earlier in both our lives. And I'm profoundly struck by the fact that, while we live a pretty good and fulfilling life in the states, our lives would've been better, our lives would definitely have been better, with my cousin in it.

Because she really is all that.

☺️☺️☺️

With our extended goodbyes out the way, and after one last round of family photographs—all of us in one image—my cousin and her family start making their way back to their car as we turn to get in line for the self baggage drop.

As we take our place in line, I remember to look back for my family. I immediately spot them walking away. They've been keeping track of us in line as well. And in that moment in which we catch each other's attention for the last time, we reach our hands high into the air to wave goodbye.

And finally.

Finally...

Go our separate ways.

❤️❤️❤️

#going home #holland #netherlands #family #love #seattle #amsterdam #schiphol airport #packing #saying goodbye #luggage #check-in #holiday #vacation #family travels #family history

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Ben Feldman

full name: Adrian Ellis 

nickname(s) / goes by: Adi

pronouns & gender: he/him cis man

sexuality: heterosexual 

birth date: July, 12, 1984 (39)

birth place: Portland, Maine

arrival to merrock: Moved to town about ten years ago to make his own start away from his parents.

housing: Historical Downtown

occupation: Web developer/designer 

work place: Office just out of town and working from home. 

family: Younger sister 

relationship status: single

PERSONALITY

Adi is an attractive but modest guy, he is optimistic and likes to be helpful to those around him. Although he comes across pretty confident, he is actually rather shy and reserved and talks a lot to cover it. At times, he can be immature, a know-it-all and a little spoilt as he comes from a rich family. But he is caring, gentle and a good friend.

WRITTEN BY: Soph (she/her), gmt.

BACKGROUND / BIO

Adrian who likes to be known as Adi was born in Portland, Maine, though for a long time he considered New York to be his home after moving there when he was just six years old. His parents were both lawyers who had high expectations and worked long hours. Although he didn’t want for much, he didn’t spend too much time with his parents and he was sent to boarding school at a very young age.

Adi has always been incredibly smart and he enjoyed the challenge of boarding school. However, at times he could be a little too smart for his own good and his opinions often got him into trouble. He was known to argue with teachers over something he’d read or a documentary he’d seen, just eager to share what he'd learnt. He excelled throughout school, with most things in life coming pretty easy to him. He read about everything and anything and he liked to show off his wide range of knowledge, telling anyone who would listen and always having something to say about most situations. This is something he still does in adult life, he often corrects people and can come across a little annoying but he means well and he’s a kind natured guy who goes out of his way to help people.

His parents had money and he had plenty of opportunities, he played several instruments and took advanced classes. He even spent his summers helping at the law firm. Though his real passion was computers and gaming. He would spend hours taking apart old machines and messing with a range of software. He was smart and could teach himself how to edit, create programs and code. He enjoyed getting to express himself and finding something for himself.

However, his parents weren’t too happy with his choice to pursue IT and programming at college, they wanted him to become a doctor or lawyer and that only pushed him further away from them. Instead of applying for college, Adi took his trust fund and decided to take a gap year which turned into four years. Many would consider him to be a spoilt rich boy who rebelled against his parents, and maybe in a way he was but Adi was happy. He travelled, he went backpacking and he saw the world for himself. The places he experienced were a big influence on him and brought him out of his shell.

Though at the age of 22, Adi knew he had to make some kind of plans for his future. He had the grades to go to any university that he wanted and he decided to return to New York and applied to Cornell. His parents agreed to help him financially, glad their son was finally going back into education, even if working with computers hadn’t been their first choice for him. Though he thrived, he enjoyed the hard work and learning new things and being able to put his arguments and opinion into what he loved. He grew in confidence and made a best friend who encouraged him to be him. They're still friends today.

After university, Adi worked for a tech company in New York for a few years and completed his Masters degree. However, it always felt like something was missing. The job paid well and he didn't hate it but he felt like he wasn’t really moving forward. Growing up, he'd enjoyed visiting his grandparents in Maine. It was relaxed there, they left him to do his own thing. He'd spend hours reading outside and playing video games all day. His sister had moved to Maine in her teens after being kicked out of private school. She'd attended high school in Merrock and about ten years ago, Adi decided it was time for him to settle there too and to move away from their parents.

He lives in a nice home in Merrock and works for a company not far from the town. He's still a little dork at time but he is rather confident in who he is and hoping one day he'll find the right person to be in that life with him.

#merrockbio #adrianellis