#rebecca's distraction drabbles

[cauliflowercounty]

In the Stands

Jamie Tartt x Reader

Summary:  Jamie x reader drabble for anon

“Can I request a Jamie Tartt fic based off this TikTok please?”

Warnings: Cussing but if you watch Ted Lasso idk why ur worried about that

Word Count : 1.1K

The Dog Track roars as the Richmond team walk out onto the field to play Tottenham Hotspur for the quarter final of this year’s FA Cup. Jamie surveys the crowd, a sea of red and blue alive with excitement, scarves and flags waving in the crisp air as the team huddles in a pre-game circle. The Richmond faithful's song swells and fills the air.

“We’re Richmond ‘till we die!  We’re Richmond ‘til we die! We know we are, We’re sure we are, We’re Richmond ‘til we die!”

As Isaac shouts out orders for warm up, Jamie can’t help but raise his gaze up to the private boxes. He looks up and smiles to himself, seeing you bundled up in your jacket and gloves next to Keeley, who’s whispering something into your ear.  You push up your Richmond beanie as it almost falls down over your eyes.  Rebecca steps down and takes a seat next to you, handing you and Keeley hot coffees.

Jamie had never expected to date a popstar, much less one that Keeley introduced him to. You’d come into his life unexpectedly. After getting rejected from Lust Conquers All and Man City, he thankfully was able to return to Richmond after Ted changed his mind, but the team had had a difficult time accepting his return. Despite being given the cold shoulder by the team, he still looked forward to coming to the club each day because you were there.

Keeley had brought you on for PR for the club.  She and Rebecca had decided you could write a song about Richmond, which would benefit both parties, and you had just returned to the UK after being away on a North American tour in support of your latest album.  

In order for you to get some inspiration for the song, Keeley and Rebecca asked Ted to let you observe training and attend games, so you could understand the essence and culture of the team, so the song would be truly representative of Richmond. Nate was originally very resistant to the idea, thinking that you would be a distraction to the team, Beard didn’t mind, and Roy was more or less apathetic to the idea, so you were brought onto the team. 

Once Jamie saw you, he knew you were different than anyone else he had known before.  You were creative like Keeley, but you had this air about you that put him at ease. You had shown every person in the club remarkable kindness and seemed genuinely happy to be there, but he had also seemed to catch your eye as well, but Jamie was unsure if that was real or just his imagination.

Overtime, you became universally loved by the whole Richmond team because of your warmth and humor. Day by day, the bond you had formed with the team got stronger and stronger as you traveled with them for matches, hung around the club, celebrated their wins, and mourned their losses. You were all close-knit, but your and Jamie’s relationship was different than the one you had everyone else.  

It all started two weeks after you arrived when you were singing in the locker room after you thought everyone was gone. You'd taken to songwriting after hours after everyone was gone in order to soak in the atmosphere of the club to spur your creative juices. He'd forgotten his phone yet again when he caught you singing to yourself, circling the locker room.

You were shocked to see him and had blushed in embarrassment that you were singing so loud when you weren't actually the only one left, but he had made it clear that you had nothing to be ashamed of.

"I think you sound great," he had said, which made you heave a sigh of relief. "Would you mind showing me more of what you have for the song?"

You obliged, and since that day, you and Jamie would hang back after training. You'd sing Jamie the melodies you were toying with, play your guitar, and run lyrics by him. Songwriting wasn’t ever something Jamie had shown interest in, but now that you were letting him in on the process, he had grown to enjoy it, especially since it was an excuse to spend some alone time with you.

Overtime, his inclination had blossomed into what felt like a boyhood crush. He desperately wanted to ask you out on a real date, but he was worried that you’d say no and that you’d never have another of your after hours songwriting sessions or that your friendship with Keeley would keep you from saying yes.  To his delight, you immediately said yes when he accidentally blurted out "could I take you for coffee sometime?"

Coffee turned to dinner, which turned into a budding romance. As soon as the team realized you were getting along with Jamie, they seemed more inclined to hear him out, and you even encouraged Jamie to apologize. Jamie was thankful that you had helped him bridge the rift between him and the rest of the team. Now you were all like one big, happy family and Richmond was on a win streak.

From the pitch, Jamie smiles in your direction and waves his hands high above his head to get your attention. He sees Keeley point his way, tapping your shoulder.  Your eyes dart to him and you immediately smile, seeing him grinning at you like a little kid.  The whole Richmond team lets out a series of “oohs” and slap Jamie on his shoulders when he makes a heart with his arms in your direction. You wave back to him, shouting “Good luck, Jamie!”

Some of the Tottenham players look over to the group of Richmond players and then up to the stands, trying to see what the commotion from their opponents is about.  Their kitman’s eyes raise as he nearly misses one of the players hands when he tries to hand him a water bottle.  

“No way!” the kitman gasps, his eyes wide.  

“What is it?” a player says, looking to the stands as well, finally seeing you waving at the Richmond gang.  “Oh shit!” The player goes to tap his teammate on the shoulder and points up at you from the field.

“Who’s the fuck's that?!” another says rather gruffly, which makes the entire Richmond team burst into laughter as the Tottenham players seemed completely taken aback at your presence, especially since you’re sporting Richmond gear of all things.  Jamie blows a kiss your way with a flourish, which makes you blush. You shake your head at his cheesiness.

You mouth “good luck! Go get ‘em” to Jamie, and he smiles in thanks to you, his heart swelling with confidence.  Ted calls the boys over for a few final words before the match starts and with your support, Jamie’s ready to go all out with his team today. 

--

Thanks for reading!

#jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt #apple tv

[gothghostiie]

Albert drabble, if you please xoxo - If his S.T.A.R.S work crush finds THE REBECCA PHOTO and gives him a (¬_¬) 'gorl pls'

I had to look up what a drabble is for this but I love it and THE PHOTO IS MENTIONED WAY TOO LITTLE

"Could you grab it for me? It should be in my desk." You went over there and started looking through the drawers, to give him what he wanted. You probably would've found it faster, if you hadn't been distracted by a photo you found. It was Rebecca, in short, athletic clothes. You couldn't help but chuckle and shake your head. "What?"

"What a nice picture of Rebecca. She sure looks good in those shorts, doesn't she, Captain?" he blushed, knowing exactly what picture you were holding there.

"I- put it back." you just shook your head and rolled your eyes.

#dead by daylight #dbd #albert wesker #resident evil #wesker #albert wesker x reader #rebecca chambers #gothghostiie #ask ghostiie

[jon-withnoh]

many congratulations on completing nie wirst du!!! what a ride 🎉🎉

for writer's ask -

🕶️ - what helps you concentrate when you write?

📗 - do you want to write something outside of  fanfiction? if so, what about?

🐇 - do you write for yourself, for others, or both?

🥳 - why did you start writing fanfic?

Thank you!! And thank you for the questions :)

What helps you concentrate when you write? A couple of things! I can do a drabble in between other things or even sneakily write one at work, but for longer prose or poetry what helps most is knowing I have a sufficient amount of time set aside for writing. I also write best in liminal spaces, especially trains. Airplanes are okay too because I don’t like flying and writing is a great distraction. Other things that help in no particular order: sufficient food and hydration, white noise (my current favourite is ocean waves), having done some stretches because I always have back pain, my adhd meds, and knowing I don’t have anything urgent I need to be doing instead.

Do you want to write something outside of fanfiction? If so, what about? I am a writer irl though I don’t give many details on here. I’ve mainly been writing poetry for the last couple of years, but fic has actually given me an entry point back into prose. As a rule, I love writing about the different ways humans connect with each other (or don’t) and the way our bodies move in relation to each other. I also enjoy delving into complicated relationships.

For you write for yourself, others, or both? Both! I write for myself in that I’ve always had a need to write. It helps me be a person in the world to have that creative output and play around with words in a way I wouldn’t get to do otherwise. Fic’s been playing a large role in helping me adjust to a full-time job and still feel vaguely fulfilled in life. Poetry has been very cathartic in the past and has now become a way for me to delve deep into that fun experimentation with words and the way they appear on the page. But I’ve also always known that I want my writing to be read. Whether it’s here on tumblr, over on Ao3, in literary journals and anthologies or, one day, in a full book of my own, I like putting my writing out in the world and having people read it. What I like even more is when people actually want to talk to me about it or when I find friends through reading each other’s work. So yes to all three. I write to feel fulfilled, I write to bring others writing they might like to read, and I write to have some of that feedback come back to me.

Why did you start writing fanfic? There are two answers to this. When I was about twelve, I wanted to write but didn’t really have a concept of what made original work original work. I started a few fics for different fandoms and finished none of them. I also started a short story around that time that ended up turning into a novel I worked on for over four years. Looking back it is of course slightly embarrassing to read my writing from back then, but at the same time, I’m still so proud that young me persevered over so many years and finished a whole book. And I’m glad knowing younger me always had a place to go to in their head if life was a lot. As for Rebecca fic — I saw the musical in Vienna and it changed me. I didn’t expect it to, I didn’t even realise it had done so after I left the theatre, but when I woke up the next day something “had changed within me” (ha!). I spent my seven-hour train journey back home listening to the Stuttgart cast recording, devoured the book, read most Rebecca fics on Ao3 and was appalled to find that there were very few finished fics that gave either the narrator or Danny a happy ending. I was also in that strange liminal place between finishing university and getting a job, so I had a lot of free time and a lot of creative energy waiting to be tapped. Then I started writing Was Wird Aus Uns and was met with so much excitement, enthusiasm and kindness that the rest is history. Now it’s just become a beloved part of how I spend my free time.

#rebecca das musical #my fic #Ask games #thank you for the questions!

[utterlyinevitable]

(Further) Trials & Tribulations (1/?)

↳ series masterlist

A little bit of sunshine

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Becca Lao) feat. Bryce Lahela Rating: Teen+ Warnings: mentions of depression  Tropes: Bryce- Hurt/Comfort; Ethan- The Amazon

Summary: Bryce notices somethings not quite right with Becca and makes it his mission to help bring her back to life. 

a/n: since Trials & Tribulations has been on hiatus for nearly two years, i’ve decided to post all the drabbles of scenes i’ve mapped out. they aren’t edited or fully finished drabbles but, you know, new year new wip list and i really wanna get all these old oph hiatus works out of limbo. i hope you enjoy this angsty mess. 

________________

The subsequent days following the betrayal were hard on Becca. Every turn in the halls, every evening in Donahue’s with that empty bar stool mocking her, and every moment she was alone in her room with her soiled sheets - all of it made her numb. She had become a shell of a person. Nothing excited her as much anymore and the crippling worry of all the unknowns ate away at whatever crumbs of humanity she had left. Rebecca was undoubtedly depressed; spiraling out of control by not sleeping, refusing to be alone but not with her friends, substituting those with evenings wrapped around Rafael when possible, and drinking a little more than she should have each night. 

It seemed like no one noticed. Like everyone chalked it up to the stressors of trial finally weighing down on her. 

Except one person did notice every stealthy dissociated move she made. 

Bryce notices her struggles those first weeks. makes it his mission to put pink back on the apples of her cheeks once more. He’d be damned if he gave up on a friend when they needed him most.

Among the tortures caused, Bryce was a ray of light casting all doubts Becca had away. Bryce was a nice distraction. He volunteered to make her feel as good as possible as often as possible. He took her out. He held her close. He tried to make sure she got laid, though he assured her he would not be the one performing the task. Rebecca took him up on his offer every step of the way. Bryce knew something was bothering her - he didn’t understand why she was so down after the hearing. She won unanimously, saved the life of the most notable diagnostician in the world, and uncovered a cure for Rhodes Disease. She was on top of the world. Why was she stuck in a rut?  

Little by little, and by Week 2, he could start to see shadows of his favorite, most miraculous friend shining through her turmoil. He wouldn’t push her to talk about it. Bryce fully believed that when she was ready, she’d tell him exactly what went down. Until then, he’d do his best to be by her side. 

It all started with little lunch outings when he'd seek her out between surgeries and they had free moments together at work. He noticed how she'd avoid the 5th floor admin wing, sometimes taking the long way around. Bryce thought it had something to do with the ethics hearing and wanting to keep from the eyes of the board; keep her head down and carry on. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought she was avoiding a certain diagnostician’s abandoned office. She always looked so dejected and didn't show up for group lunches most weeks. 

Becca was hunched over a file at the nurse’s station, leaning on her forearms as she slowly digested the information before signing off. 

Bryce sauntered over, “Are you on lunch?” He shot her his signature megawatt grin. Although she didn’t turn to him, she felt it radiating off of him.   

“Should be in 5, why?”  

“I’m going to Red Tomato. Wanna tag along?”  

Becca bit her lip, her eyes fixated on the small print of the patient form she was mulling over, “Um…” How was she supposed to tell him she hadn’t taken a lunch break in over a week? 

“My treat. Anything you want, as long as it's not a mayo and cucumber sandwich.” 

There was a pause and Becca chewed on her lip harder. She didn’t think anyone would notice that’s the only thing she’s been eating. 

“They have the most delectable Paninis and Oreo cheesecake.” 

They both heard her stomach growl. 

Bryce reached over and closed the file in her hand, handing it to Danny behind the nurses’ desk. He fit her hand in his sizable palm and off they went. A ghost of a smirk on her lips. 

Two days later the group of friends were celebrating the weekend at Donahue’s. Nothing out of the ordinary about this, they do it at least twice a month. But what was different were the excess piles of glasses in one particular spot of the table. Becca was two shots ahead of everyone else. She didn’t think anyone would notice her downing a double tequila as she waited for the group tray. Yet Bryce slyly watched her every motion. 

When she reached for her third, he had to divinely intervene. 

He leaned over her shoulder so she could hear him over the shouts of their friends' heated debate, “Bet I can beat your ass at pool.”  

“I’ve been playing pool since I was eight.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re any good.”

“You’re on, Lahela.” 

And so they sauntered over to the billiards corner of the bar, the two of them throwing playful jabs back and forth along with sardonic taunts. It was like it was their first week on the job - and Bryce regaled her with the memory of their first game together, their bet (and how they’re going to up it this time. but what could be better than a kiss?), how their friendship has become so important to him. 

The conversation flowed freely and ever so effortlessly, no alcohol needed. 

 Becca had one-ball lead when a song came on Bryce knew they couldn't miss, especially if the game was ending soon. “Intermission!”

“There's no intermission in pool!”  

His brows furrow and his amber eyes shine golden, “Who says? Not like you're a profesh or anything.” 

He pulled her into him by the wrists, his hands at her waist. He moved her body side to side with his strength, making silly faces at her until Becca just gave his gleeful smirk a raised eyebrow. 

“Hips don't lie, Becks. Yours are screaming for more. Unless you wanna forfeit now? I understand if my sexy bod has rendered you incapable.” 

“You're unbelievable, you know that.” 

“You better believe it,” he smiled and twirled her around and around until a giggled escaped. 

______________________

a/n: thanks for reading!

@choicesficwriterscreations​ @openheartfanfics​

> complete masterlist <

Perma:

@jerzwriter​   @quixoticdreamer16​   @terrm9​ @crazy-loca-blog​   @the-pale-goddess​   @schnitzelbutterfingers​   @gryffindordaughterofathena​   @lucy-268​   @reputaytion-xiii @peonierose​   @withbeautyandrage​ @little-flowers-on-heaven​ @parisa-kh​   @forallthatitsworth​   @maurine07​ @cariantha​  @starrystarrytrouble​ @mvalentine​

All Ethan:

@queencarb​   @lsvdw-blog​   @mm2305​   @senseofduties​  @differenttyphoonwerewolf​   @a-crepusculo​ @shreyasrivathsa​    @headoverheelsforramsey​   @blossomanarchy​   @rosebudde​  @coffeeheartaddict2​ @cryomyst​ @rookiemartin​   @ohchoices​   @takemyopenheart​ @uneravine​ @ofmischiefandmedicine​

Bryce:

@weaving-in-words​  

#bryce lahela superiority anyone??? #open heart #choices open heart #ethan x mc #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #ethan ramsey

[lilyoffandoms]

TWC Drabble - Ava x Evan

Got a number of these requests ready to post. None are super long but wanted to keep them short to get through a bunch. Didn’t get to as many as I had hoped since I got distracted this weekend but I’ll keep plugging away at em this week and next.

Warnings & A/N: Canon typical warnings. Post auction, aka that scene with A.

His stumbles back towards the bed. Reaching blindly for anything to stop his fall but fails in finding that thing and slips off the mattress and onto the floor. Hard.

There is a familiar ache in his chest.

The same ache he gets every time Ava pulls away. The same ache, but somehow deeper.

And somehow, the surprisingly familiar ache of his childhood.

The same ache he felt every time Rebecca walked away. The same wounds ripped open again.

The hollow and bitter chuckle that leaves him doesn’t surprise him any longer. Too many times he’s found himself at the brink of hope only to fall from that ledge and crash to the floor with the same damn result.

What is it about him that is so unlovable?

What makes everyone in his life show up and tell him so many wonderful things that make him dream the impossible? What makes them tell him how much he means to them? How scared they are for him, to lose him? Tell him how they love him? Tell him he’s so strong and they are so proud?

And then…. Then what makes them walk away like none of that matters?

What is it about him that makes those he loves, those he needs love from, turn from him so easily?

Maybe…

Maybe.

He swipes angrily at the tear that trickles down his cheek.

“Maybe I just don’t matter to them.”

——————————

[Requests]

#ava x evan #my drabble #i like to live dangerously and so do not edit forgive my mistakes #request #anon request

[last-herondale]

A Long Rest

AN: this is a Drabble for my dnd group!

The ship had found itself on rough waters. The vessel rocked and swayed unevenly against the waves as our voyage brought us ever closer to our destination. Borith. My old home.

I was never one for boat rides. Even as I child I was prone to sea sickness, especially on that first and last voyage with my father. We had been heading in the opposite direction then, strange how the circumstances have changed since then. And yet, the sea sickness stayed the same. Still weak from my unfortunate run in with Cassian the other night, I struggled to find my bearings as I attempted to stand from my bed.

Gals ship was extraordinary— a miracle to say the least, but the sleeping quarters were small as hell. I was sharing with Amber, my mother, and my strange cow wrangling counterpart and her Samuel. Luckily, while I was inside for most of the trip, sleeping off getting my heart ripped from my chest, the others found themselves useful on the deck.

My friends had come to check in on me every so often. They had seen my wounds, seen the blood and carnage of Xarlo’s stitching, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them what happened. I didn’t want them to hate Cassian for what he did. It was shitty, and hurt like hell, but I can’t blame him. Xiaoh died because of my trust in Remi. If the roles were reversed…

Iscelia would sit and talk with me. She would chatter on about her boys, Di and Polaris. They care for her I think, and she cares for them—as one with her kind of heart does. But I don’t think she is over Wistari. Not that I want her to be… for my own selfish reasons perhaps. I miss him. He was a good friend to us when he didn’t need to be and did more for me and mine then I ever expected him to. I hope she finds him. Soon.

Esther and Rebecca would come in momentarily. Esther seemed distracted during our visits, letting Rebecca lead most of the conversation, which really turned into little girl chatter. She is a strong girl, that Rebecca, but no matter how hard she tries to convince herself otherwise, she is still just a child. I can’t blame Esther for her preoccupied mind. Being a diplomat seems like a whole bunch of bullshit wrapped in a fancy gold bow. She has to act cordial with these royal prisses fir the sake of other royal prisses. I think there’s a reason they chose her instead of someone like me. Plus, she is dealing with her family shit. Her parents seem like total fucktards, especially for sending that little lunch Patrick after Esther and Rebecca. If I were Esther I know I’d be busy thinking about ways to make them pay, or at least I used to think like that… Im not so sure anymore.

Samuel came and went. He seemed content to just sit there with me as I slept. Sometimes he would bring Frost with him and I’d enjoy watching him teach his pet tricks. There was a looming sadness about Samuel. Like something inside of him… broke? I Don’t know. Whenever I asked about Peaches and the kittens, his eyes would lose a bit of their luster. I didn’t push him on the matter. What do I know of relationships? Clearly, less than I was lead to believe.

My mother was my second frequent visitor. In my fits of fevered slumber, I’d wake to her just sitting beside me, changing out my fever rags and tying my hair back. It was odd at first, to see her there beside me. I felt like a child again, seeing her looking down at me with affection and care… a look I didn’t realize I had missed since she left all those years ago. A look my father was never capable of making.

My favorite little visitor, a stubborn little girl who wouldn’t leave my bedside for the first few days, finally was dragged away by my mother for a good exploration of the ship. When she left me for the first time, I cried. I had held it together for as long as I could, on my mothers ship, and now on Gal’s. It wasn’t the pain that radiated in my chest, or the nausea that made me want to die—again— but it was the echo. The soft whimpering echo of Amber’s voice as she sang to me, pleaded for me to wake up. Despite my best efforts, I had died. Had it not been for the gods Eldath and Bast… she would have been alone again. I know the group would have taken her in, they care for her just as I do, but still… I would have failed her. I would have left her.

I would never have forgiven myself for that.

Despite the ship’s movement easing a bit on the water, I still wasn’t able to mange anything except sitting up by myself. My body was extremely sore, and my head felt like it was swimming against the nausea. I braced myself against the wall and prepared myself for a horrible vomit session when the small door swung open.

“You’ll never guess what I saw! Mom, I saw the biggest seagull ever! Grandma said it means we’re getting close to shore but Captain Gal said—“ she finally saw my face as she rambled on and cut herself off.

“Are you okay Mommy?” Amber asked, her usual assertive mischief in her voice was gone and all that was left was fearful concern.

“I’m. Fine. Hun.” I said between strained breaths. I did not want to vomit in front of Amber— or on her for that matter. Her large circular eyes scanned my face, and she furrowed her brow as she came up and just sat in my lap, leaning her head up against my chest and wrapping her arms around my waist. I wrapped one arm around her little body, but kept myself braced as the boat continued to rock.

“Breathe with me. In” she said as Amber took a large, deep breath. “Out.” She said as she blew out a long breath. I did as she instructed and smiled as I looked down at her.

“Is. This. A. Cleric…trick?” I asked her. My hand automatically went to her hood and petted her feathers on her horned head. She used to be bashful about her horns, and she still was with others… but when it was just us two… this was comforting. For both of us. Amber lead me through a few more breaths and shook her head. Already my stomach felt less like a rolling tide and more like a gentle wave. The nausea was passing.

“It’s just a me trick. I taught it to myself.” She did a couple more breaths before continuing. “When I first was alone, sometimes I was too scared to go out on my own.”

“You? My little white devil, afraid?” I teased, letting my hands caress her head. She giggled at the response but continued. “Yeah I was scared, but only for like a day. When I was scared, I did little breaths like this and it always calmed me down.” She did a couple more breaths and I followed her lead. She seemed like she was getting tired, as her eyes drooped a bit against my chest.

“I’m really glad you’re not dead.” She said softly. I felt myself go rigid a bit, my hand stopped their caresses as I looked down at her. She looked up at me, her arms still wrapped around my waist. “I was scared then, when Cassian hurt you… I should have been doing my breaths…but I was so scared… I forgot.”

I gave her a small smile, as my chest ached in my chest. I let the hand bracing the wall fall, and I scooped her up and held her little body close to my chest. She wrapped her arms around mg neck and nuzzled her head against my cheek. I felt wetness on my face, and at the moment I was sure if it was hers or mine, but I didn’t care. I kissed the top of her feathered forehead and held my daughter close to me. The nausea was gone. The soreness and pain was gone. All there was, was Amber. And she was enough.

[maegfen]

Post 2x03 Ted x Rebecca drabble

Someone on the Ted x Rebecca discord mentioned Nora helping Rebecca realise some of her feelings for Ted. Wrote and posted this there yesterday, but should probably share with tumblr folks too :) Some spoilers for 2x03, and some show standard language, hence the read more.

“Ted seems nice,” Nora comments around the mouthfuls of takeaway Chinese she’s shoveling into her mouth while sitting up at Rebecca’s kitchen counter after their afternoon of shopping. “Chatty, bit weird, but nice.”

“Mmm,” Rebecca replies with a casual shrug before she maneuvers to pick up another piece of sweet and sour chicken. “Ted’s a lovely man, good friend, excellent baker. Very chatty,” she emphasizes with a wave of her chopsticks.

“Mum thinks he fancies you,” Nora continues, all wide-eyed innocence but with that sharp, mischievous look she’s been seeing in Sassy’s eyes since the age of 11. Rebecca has been attempting all day to get the image of Ted and Sassy out of her mind. Well, not all of it, just the parts that involve her thinking about what Ted Lasso, her good friend and nothing else thank you very much, might just be hiding beneath the ever present Richmond jumper and snugly fitting khakis. She’d managed well, for the most part, until Nora had off handedly mentioned something about what a fabulous idea going shopping was, and then she’d been momentarily stuck in dreamland again whilst walking through the High Street. Thankfully, Roy and Phoebe had appeared shortly after and a suitable distraction had become available.

Rebecca wonders whether it’s a Collins family trait, this ability to find a thread of something on her mind and pick and pick and pick at it until Rebecca comes to some dramatic realization.

She just about manages to swallow her food before she sputters a rebuttal at her Goddaughter.

“Ted does not fancy me. He’s an excellent friend like I said. He’s kind, and great with the players, and definitely a bit weird. But he’s nice and wonderful and… oh fuck…”

Nora peers at her. Grins. It’s a spot on replica of Sassy when she discovered Rebecca liked Simon Jacobs from their Science lessons in Year 8; her best friend was relentless in her teasing until Rebecca asked him out to the school disco.

“And I certainly don’t fancy him. Not at all.”

“He’s quite fit though right. I mean,” and Nora blushes before she spills her thoughts, “notasfitasSamprobablyisbut…” A deep breath, from both Nora and herself and Rebecca’s stomach sinks, knows where this conversation is probably going. “But he’s got the older guy, bit of a Dad bod thing going on, and the mustache kinda works right? Have you ever seen him without a mustache? I bet he looks weird. Have you ever thought about it?”

“No.”

Rebecca has in fact thought a lot about Ted with and without facial hair. She likes the mustache. It suits him, adds to his charm. Nora is still grinning at her.

“I don’t fancy him Nora! You’re as bad as your mother.”

“Ok,” Nora says with a smile and a shrug, before jumping off her stool, shoving her plate into the dishwasher and heading back to the guest bedroom.

Rebecca watches her go, then puts her head in her hands.

“Fuck.”

#ted lasso #rebecca welton #ted x rebecca #nora collins #lucy writes stuff

[ghost-party]

💛 I have this soft Gojo relationship headcanon that anytime there is a story to be told, he likes letting his S/O tell it, JUST so he can annotate from the sidelines.

So you'll be like:

"So we get to the meeting, and immediately, all eyes are on us, because we are late---"

"making an entrance!" - he'll pipe up, with the most self satisfied grin you can imagine.

And he will do it as often as he can just to drive you absolutely insane. But joke's on him, you find his infuriating ass adorable are used to his antics, so you just roll your eyes and soldier on. And that warms his heart.

💛 AU!Sukuna - "Rawr"

💛 And I am setting you up on a date with Nanami. Now, lbr, it wouldn't require much convincing, I know. But let's pretend for a second that neither of us would drop everything at the chance, and let's make a whole scenario for it, mmk? (I am using this as an excuse to write my first drabble in... 10 years? I'm super rusty, but I promise I am trying).

Honestly, everyone is worried about you right now. You have always been the type to work hard and give your all, but this is getting ridiculous. Every day you are the first one in, and the last one out, and god dammit, Rebecca, we need you to relax. We've tried to get you to take it easy, to slow down a bit, but to no avail. You explained that after that one guy transferred out to another branch a couple of weeks ago you found a pile of overdue reports he never finished and now you are spending every single free second you have at work (and then some) to get things wrapped up. This is your dumpster fire now.

And you know, we get it, we do. But then you dropped the bomb: You are planning to come in tomorrow--- your day off.

It's a shame you are so tired that you didn't even notice the look on Nanami's face. But the rest of us did, and it gave us an idea. So here's what we do:

A few of us stay behind after you are gone and ransack your desk. We know exactly what we are looking for, and we find it in no time. A neat sheet of paper with a colorful header, listing out all your tasks for the next day. Including each of the reports that has yet to be completed. Using the list we collect the offending documents and split them amongst ourselves, setting out to complete them before we go home. Once we are done, we set them on your desk and leave.

When you get in the following morning, the first thing you notice is that your list is missing. You look around your desk a bit and when it's clear it just isn't there anymore, you take a deep breath and mentally countdown from 10 before you take out your phone to call Gojo. Because honestly, who else would be fucking with you this early in the morning? But before you can even unlock your phone, you hear footsteps approaching. You look up and see Nanami standing in front of you, arms folded over his chest. He is staring at you, sternly, and you know he is disappointed to see you at work on your day off, you expected as much.

What you didn't expect was the sigh that leaves him as he relaxes his posture and takes a few steps in your direction.

"Come on", he says, voice unexpectedly soft, as he retrieves a folded piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to you - "there has been a change in your schedule for today".

And with that he gives you the smallest of smirks, as he turns to walk out, fully expecting you to follow him.

MARI, YOU HAVE SPOILED ME. 😵💖💖💖 I’m going to put my responses (and all of my gushing) under the cut!

I love that Gojo headcanon! He would absolutely do that, just grinning like the lovable menace he is. My headcanon in exchange is that I think he has very selective concentration. When there’s a conversation happening that he just doesn’t care about, he zones out or interrupts and takes control. But when it comes to you, he’s a surprisingly attentive listener. Even when you think he’s distracted, later that day, he’ll remind you of something you said, and you’ll realize that he’s always paying attention to you.

As for the fic I would write for AU!Sukuna — “Rawr”: It’s Halloween, and your college friends have convinced you to go to some frat party with them. You don’t even have a costume, but your roommate lends you a pair of cat ears that you pair with black clothes — including Sukuna’s leather jacket.

When you get there, it’s noisy, crowded, and definitely not your idea of a fun time. But there’s a live band, and you’re shocked to see your boyfriend playing with them. You both step outside, and he explains that he’s filling in for a friend. He looks you up and down with that lazy, heated smile of his and says he likes your costume. “Oh yeah?” You give him a teasing little “rawr,” and then one thing leads to another... 😁 

(I might also throw in Frat Boy!Gojo, trying to get all flirty with you, because possessive Sukuna would really be something...)

AND I AM IN AWE OF YOUR DRABBLE. I’m still sitting here smiling about it, and I probably will be for the rest of the night. Firstly, I feel called out, because I am a horrible overachiever with a bad habit of stretching myself too thin. Secondly, THE LIST. So perfect, in every single way. The sweet date ideas! “Please don’t forget to feed her. We need her back.” The scribbled-out suggestion at the bottom! 🤣 I can’t handle this. It’s too much. Thank you for writing this! You are truly wonderful. 💖

#ask box #birthday ask game #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #gojo satoru #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #au sukuna #nanami kento

[cowherderess]

Christmas Ficlets 9/31 - New holiday traditions

Almost all I ever think about re: Ted Lasso is actually one Rebecca Welton, but here is a little drabble attempt to demystify the titular role ;) 

~*~*~

December, 1996 

Golden light spills out from the farmhouse windows onto the snowy yard, augmented by twinkle lights outlining the porch and roof, and there’s a big wreath on the front door. It looks as pretty as a postcard, or a gingerbread house, and Ted tells Michelle so.

“It does, doesn’t it?” She smiles, but briefly.

“You nervous?”

“No!” A beat, and then, “Not in a bad way.” Her smile turns warmer. “Are you?”

Michelle comes from a sprawling big family, and every year they all gather at her grandparents’ farm for Christmas. Ted has heard a lot about them, and feels like he knows them already– her sisters, her brother, all their cousins (twelve counting Michelle and her siblings, and yes, “a dozen cousins” is very fun to say), the aunts and uncles, and her grandma– but now he’s actually going to meet them.

He has met her parents, at family weekend last spring. The four of them went out for lunch and never had a lull in the conversation. “Nope.”

They find a parking spot near the fence; everyone else must be here already, what with how many cars there are. Ted takes her hand as they cross the yard, even though the snow is fresh and therefore not at all slippery. 

“Here goes!” Michelle says, as she lifts her free hand to knock and the door swings open before she can. 

“There you are!” Her slightly-taller doppelganger stands in the doorway, hands on hips. “Oma thought you got lost!”

Michelle rolls her eyes. “Oma. It’s only seven! We’re not even late. Ted, this is my sister Betsy. Betsy, Ted.”

Betsy grins, and leans in for a sideways hug. “The famous Ted! Come on in.”

“I’m famous?!” He glances at Michelle, who might be blushing a little, or the house is just plenty warm, and he squeezes her hand. “I don’t know about that. I do know I’m very pleased to be here.”

It must have been the right thing to say, or he hopes it was; Michelle and her sister exchange a look that seems positive.

“Hello, my dears!” Michelle’s mother passes by, bearing a tray. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Hoffmann,” Ted replies.

Every seat in the living room, and some of the floor space, is occupied by people. They’re all wearing red and white sweaters, like Michelle had promised they would be. There is very clearly a center of the crowd: the silver-haired woman in a wing chair by the coffee table laden with festive hors d’oeuvres. 

“Michelle!” her grandmother greets her, “I was beginning to wonder, with this snow.”

“The snow was no trouble, Oma.” Michelle leans down to kiss her cheek, before tugging Ted forward. “I want you to meet Ted.”

“Ah yes.” The old lady regards him steadily. “Michelle has told us a lot about you, young man.”

“Good things, I hope,” he answers with a little bit of a nervous chuckle. He knows that he’s the first boyfriend Michelle has invited to Christmas Eve. 

“Yes,” Oma says, but does not elaborate. “Your exams went well? Both of you?”

“Pretty well, yeah,” Michelle says. 

Ted nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Please– sit, eat.”

They take the indicated spots beside Oma’s chair. Ted takes some cheese and a cracker, to be polite, although Michelle had warned him not to fill up on them because dinner would be a big deal. Luckily, he is very quickly distracted by introductions: Michelle’s cousin Amalia, her youngest sister Kerry, her brother Matt and sister-in-law Jessica, who have a nine-month-old daughter, Josephine, who’s being passed around to everyone and handling it very well.

“Aren’t you precious!” he croons, when it’s his turn to hold the baby.

Michelle leans into him, reaching for her niece’s little hand. “Isn’t she just!”

“Where is your family this Christmas, Ted?” Oma asks. 

“Ah, well, actually my sister had a baby this summer. My mom went to be with them for Hannah’s first Christmas.”

“You didn’t want to go too?”

“Sadie and her family live all the way in Jordan,” he says, which is true, although not an answer to the question at hand. He loves his sister, and sometimes wishes they were close, but they’re not. She was already away at college when their father died and she hasn’t been back to Kansas since the funeral. “And plane tickets are pretty expensive, ’specially on a student budget.”

Especially when he’s saving up for a certain other big expense, too. They’re both younger siblings and the heirloom rings have been passed down already. 

“We might go visit them next summer,” Michelle volunteers. “After graduation. They love it there.”

“Mm-hm, they do,” Ted agrees. He’d really rather not talk about it, though, not in this idyllic scene in which he at least appears to fit (because of the sweaters) and hopefully soon will actually.

One of the aunts emerges from the kitchen, with a very welcome, “Dinner’s ready!”

#my writing #Christmas ficlets #Ted Lasso #Michelle Lasso #tv: Ted Lasso #this is what i posted on AO3 yesterday #and i'm putting it here even tho it kinda flopped over there. just for writing tag completeness reasons

[theycallmebecca]

18+ Drabble: S.N.A.F.U.

This drabble is technically a birthday present for @nomadicpixel​ who sidetracked me a couple hours ago with a comment about how “it would be interesting to see someone write about bucky and dot having a granddaughter that likes Steve”... well here you go, cuz.

A couple other notes: the title comes from the military expression “Situation Normal: All Fucked Up” and the Dot referenced is the one that Bucky and Steve mentioned in The First Avenger.

Anyway.. enjoy my friend and happy birthday.

Title: S.N.A.F.U.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Rating: R

Warnings: some sexual content, language

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

18+ Disclaimer: This work contains sexual material that is for those over the age of 18. By clicking the keep reading link below, you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and are not offended by sexual content.

The first time he'd met her, she had reminded him of someone from his past, but he hadn't been able to put two and two together.

Until now.

And he was in so much fucking trouble.

Because she had her hands wrapped around his throbbing cock.

She'd looked up at him, her upper teeth dug into her lower lip, and he'd known.

Fuck.

Did she know? More importantly, did Bucky know?

Fuck.

He had to stop her.

But he couldn't.

He was going to hell.

-------

You were just starting to work up the nerve to try putting the biggest cock you'd ever seen in your mouth when you heard Steve cry out.

"Stop," he said, his voice cracking. "We have to stop."

"I think I can do it," you assured him, but let go of his cock. "I'm not a virgin. You're big but -"

"I… we.." he said, forcing his cock back into his pants as he stood up. "Who are you related to?"

"Did you really stop me from sucking your cock to ask me about my family?" you asked, eyebrows raised.

"It's complicated," he sighed. "Just tell me if you have any family from here in the city."

"My mom was born here," you told him. "Her mother Dot was a nurse in England, she got knocked up by a soldier there and was sent home." Then you remembered. "Oh! You met my grandma. She spent a day with you and your friend Bucky at Coney Island."

"You're Dot's granddaughter?" he repeated, his face paling. "When was your mother born? And who was her father?"

"In 1945 and grandma never told us," you replied with a shrug. "She said it didn't matter because the soldier had disappeared while on a mission."

-------

Steve sank back onto the bed and practiced the breathing exercises he'd learned to control his anxiety after coming out of the ice.

"Steve, is something wrong?" she asked, the mattress shifting as she moved to his side.

"You don't look anything like your mom or your grandmother, do you?" he asked her.

"No, it's a running joke in the family," she said with a laugh and then quickly sobered. "Wait, how do you know that?"

"Because you look exactly like Bucky's sister Rebecca," Steve revealed. "And he disappeared on a mission in 1945."

When she didn't respond, he looked up and saw her staring at him in disbelief.

"Are you saying that my grandma and Bucky met up in London?" she asked.

"We were in London in late 1944," Steve explained. "Granted, I was distracted by a woman of my own. But I vaguely recall Bucky telling me he was seeing a nurse from New York that he'd met at a pub."

"I knew grandma hadn't told me everything," she said under her breath. "Do you think he knows?"

"I know he doesn't," Steve replied. "And boy will he be surprised when he finds out."

-------

Shocked, you grabbed Steve's arm and said, "When he finds out? You mean he is alive."

"Fuck," Steve breathed, but nodded. "There isn't much I can tell you, but yes, he is still alive. He's a super soldier like me."

Now it was your turn to get off the bed. Unlike Steve, however, you hadn't righted your clothes when everything had come to a screeching halt.

"Uh, here," Steve said, pulling off his shirt for you to put on.

You put on his shirt, feeling your sex clench at his scent enveloping you.

Fuck.

You liked your assumed grandfather's best friend. A lot.

"You two aren't related, right?" you asked, the thought suddenly crossing your mind.

"Fuck no," Steve answered quickly then coughed. "I mean, no, just best friends. We're not related."

Then another thought flickered across your mind. "He's alive," you said. "I want to meet him."

-------

Steve knew that was coming and was slightly disturbed at how similar she was to Bucky.

"I'll take you to meet him," he promised. "But he and I have to talk first. He was a prisoner of war and his mind got played with. A lot."

She frowned and sat back down on the bed next to him.

"It might be nice for him to know he isn't alone in the world," she said softly. "I can find some photos for you to take to him, if you want."

"I think he'd like that," Steve replied.

Silence fell between them until she spoke again, "What does this mean for us, Steve?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "There's just so much to process."

"Well, for what it's worth, I still like you," she told him and then snorted. "If you can get past the fact that you'd be banging your best friend's granddaughter."

Steve groaned and buried his face in his hands.

#theycallmebecca #theycallmebeccawrites #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america #captain america fanfic #captain america fanfiction #captain america fan fiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x y/n #reader insert #becca writes 18+ drabbles

[avarkriss]

Homecoming

✭・.・✫ 

Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Female Reader (no y/n, use of she/her) 

Rated: A for All, minimal warnings apply 

Word Count: 975

Summary: Frankie and you are distraught while he is away on the mission; all he wants to do is get home 

Shout out to @pedropascalito for naming the baby :)

From the 200 Follower Prompt list! 

From @wickedfrsgrl: Just wondering if you could write Frankie, possibly with prompts 16 (Hey, look at me)  & 19 (I’ve never been more scared of anything in my life). Fluffy angst would be perfect. Extreme soft spot for Frankie and not nearly enough stories about him. Thank you in advance.

Warnings: angst, cursing, Triple Frontier spoilers; this is Emotional

Author’s Note: Surprise! Second Frankie drabble of the night because I couldn’t help myself. I blatantly reject any TF canon that states Frankie touched cocaine, it never happened and it’s propaganda the end. Could this be related to Anniversary? It SURE IT! This poor sweet man…he just needs to rest. Enjoy, share what you can, and be well ~

The helicopter was falling out of the sky, and the only thing Frankie could think about was you and Rebecca. He was trying to land safely, just to have a fighting chance at getting back to you. To hold you and tell you how much he loved you, how much he loved the daughter you had together. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and never let you go, ever again. 

He was piloting a helicopter that was doomed from the start. They promised they would listen.

They promised it would be worth it. 

*****

You were pacing the kitchen floor, bouncing the screaming baby on your hip. Rebecca was almost six months old and teething furiously, completely inconsolable. Frankie was the only one that could settle her when she got like this, and he was who knows where right now. Your mind raced with the possibility that this mission could go wrong. 

You had clung to him before he left, tears welling in your eyes as you begged him not to leave. He promised you it was for the best, that he could change your life, and his, and Rebecca’s, all for the better. You reluctantly let him go, and you regretted it the instant he got into Pope’s car. You and the baby cried together that night as you tried to calm her, singing to her gently while you rocked her back and forth. 

You hated waiting around like this.

*****

Frankie saw himself when Redfly got shot. Redfly wasn’t going to see his family again, but he was going to see you. He mourned his friend, lamented the greed that ultimately got in the way. And now there was a dead kid too, on top of the dead villagers. This whole thing fucking sucked.

He was days away from you and only minutes away from breaking. 

It definitely wasn’t worth it. 

*****

Frankie promised to come home. But he was late to call you. He had told you as much as he could while shrouding all the other details; it was better that you didn’t know exactly what he had to do. You were playing with Rebecca, making funny faces at her, trying to distract yourself. 

It wasn’t until his call was two days late that panic began to fill your chest and you clung to Rebecca the entire day. You had no family of your own, it was just the three of you. And now the terror of it just being the two of you was starting to become very real. 

You didn’t sleep that night. 

*****

“I’m going to start fucking killing people if that boat isn’t there!”

Frankie was screaming in the truck. The mission ran over and he couldn’t care less about the stupid fucking money. He needed to get back to you. To Rebecca. He would swim back to the States if he had to, if it was only to tell you he was sorry for ever leaving. 

He might kill Pope after this.

That might be worth it. 

*****

Your phone rang at some ungodly hour of the morning and you sprang out of bed to answer it, hands shaking as an unfamiliar number flashed across your screen. You steeled yourself for the worst: Frankie was dead, and he wasn’t coming home.

“H-hello?” you choked out, voice laden with sleep and fear. 

“Baby,” he breathed into the line, and you couldn’t control the sobs that wracked your body.

“Shhh, it’s okay, I’m so sorry I’m late.”

He tried to console you, but your heart was doing backflips; elated to hear his voice, enraged that he had worried you... relieved that he was coming home. 

He was coming home, right? 

“You have 24 hours to get home before I track you down and strangle you,” you half laughed, half cried into the phone. 

“I’ll be there in less than 18. I love you.” 

When the line went dead you dried your tears with his shirt, the one you had slept in every night since he left. You quietly walked to Rebecca’s room and saw her sleeping soundly; it was going to be okay. It was finally over. 

*****

You were pacing around the house again, snuggling the baby to your body. You were wearing another one of Frankie’s shirts, your own wardrobe abandoned in his absence. The lights in the driveway caught your attention and you ran to the front door, watching Frankie get out of a cab. 

He saw you in the door and he ran, straight up the driveway and through the hedge, the walkway simply being too far from where his girls were waiting. He threw the door open and gathered you into his arms, covering your face in kisses before taking Rebecca in his arms, kissing her as well. 

He carefully took her to the pack-n-play, setting her inside so he could hold you close again, crushing you into his body. You were sobbing, burying your face in his neck.

“Hey, look at me,” he urged, peeling you away so he could hold your face in his hands, kissing you so softly you could hardly breathe. 

“I thought you were dead Frankie.”

Your voice was wavering, raspy from days of crying.

“I’ve never been more scared of anything in my life.”

His eyes were full of tears too as he looked at you, pulling you securely against his chest.

“I thought I would never see you again. I would have swam home if I had to-” his voice was breaking; it was his turn to be inconsolable. 

You held him tight as you cried together, the fear falling away to be replaced by relief. 

“I swear,” Frankie spoke into your ear as he held you, “I will always come home to you.”

You and his daughter - you were worth the world to him. 

And there was nothing he would do to change what was right in front of him. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Previous Part

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Full Masterlist // Retired Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Tag List: @pedropascalito @pascalisthepunkest @little-ms-fandom @seawhisperer @whiskeyxinxaxteacup @tarrevizslas @rzrcrst @huliabitch @quin-ta-sential @opheliaelysia @cable-kenobi @talesfromtheguild @exrebelshocktrooper

Tags - Tumble has a tag limit and we’ve exceeded it (which is so cool I can’t believe that many of you are interesting in reading my work!) so we’ll be switching to comment tags, this should also mean that everyone’s tags will work for once!!

Tag lists are open: just CLICK HERE and tell me what you want to get tagged in, or send me an ask/DM! Please note I no longer write for the Pedro Pascal fandom, and no longer carry a tag list for those works.

#francisco catfish morales #frankie #catfish #triple frontier #pedro pascal #the best part of triple frontier is francisco catfish morales change my mind #i had emotions today so i put them here #what a day it's been #frankie is just a tired dad that wants to go home to his family #and i want to love him #they should've just listened to him #like honestly guys #female reader #no y/n #she/her

[wonderlandmind4]

Delicate Stages of Life: 24

A Piece of Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC; Platonic Steve Rogers x OFC

Summary: Life in Wakanda is filled with love, laughs, some tears, all emotions, lazy days, goats, hot springs, a soul connection, and something dark that looms over Bucky’s and Ana’s domestic bliss…

Warnings: Language. Angst. Loss, Grief. Labor pains. Non-graphic child birth.

Words: 11,820

A/N: Again, sorry for taking so long to update. This was a monster for me to write and it’s just been hard to write lately, BUT, this chapter jump starts the last phase of the Drabbles...  (Do not read unless you’ve read Delicate Stages first) beautiful moodboard by @afewmarvelousthoughts​ and thank you for all your help and tears and yelling at me. I’m sorry! <3 **I have never given birth, just going off experiences of mothers I know**

Holidays: 29 weeks Dec 13th:

One morning Ana wakes up to a solid kick from inside her stomach, rapidly blinking at the odd light streaming through her window. After she carefully sits up, soothing her hands over her round belly, she blinks again, startled.

Snow. It had snowed sometime during the night and with the sight comes the realization; it’s the middle of December. Time had ticked by in muted colors to Ana that when she finally came back to herself, five months had passed. Five months since the air filled with ashes. Five months since she last touched Bucky. Five months since the absence of his soul.

Now it’s nearly Christmas. Ana can’t even remember her birthday or Thanksgiving passing. Though by the tears escaping her eyes and the ache in her chest, it’s not going to be a good day. She continues to stare out the window, the snow-covered ground and trees in the distance offer a bittersweet illusion of a perfect world. Quiet. Tranquil.

A memory invades Ana’s mind from last year. Her and Bucky snuggled together in front of a fire at Tony’s cabin, talking about a future family. She shakes the memory from her head and finally gets out of bed, ignoring the very real feeling of Bucky’s arms around her. Ignores the phantom scent of his breath and the spiced apple toddy he drank that evening.

Waddling her way to the kitchen with her hand supporting an ache in her lower back, she spots a blessed pot of coffee freshly brewed. Ana hasn’t had such a desperate urge for the taste of coffee in so long, that she nearly drops the mug she pulls from the cabinet in haste. Once she’s poured herself a generous amount, she inhales deeply. The nutty aroma sending her mind straight back to the first day she met Bucky, and all the sessions that followed.

She revels in memory, when she was proud of herself for pulling a smirk out of the infamous Bucky Barnes after she told him she didn’t poison the coffee. How they starting to bond over silly conversation of coffee, how he used to tease her but ask how to make it properly. How Bucky would sometimes show up before her, waiting for her to arrive with coffee in hand. Ana is so lost in her mind, she doesn’t register the shift of air behind her.

“That’s caffeinated, and I know you are not about to drink it while seven months pregnant.”

Snapping back to reality, Ana shoots a glare over her shoulder at Steve. “Being seven months pregnant is the perfect reason to drink it.”

The sigh Steve emits makes her step back out of his reaching range, just in case. “Ana,” He draws out in mock disappointment.

“No! I need it need it, Steve,” She practically whines, clutching the hot mug to her chest. “Especially today. With the snow and these fucking memories, and Carol isn’t here to help regulate me, and my rings don’t fit right now. I just need caffeine, just this once.”

His eyes narrow. “Just this once?” He repeats incredulously. “Didn’t Rhodes catch you sneaking his coffee a week ago?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” Ana shrugs, lifting the mug to her lips.

Sounds of scuffling come from the front hallway then, Ana distracted enough for Steve to finally and carefully, snatch the mug away from her hands. She makes a noise of protest, before she sees the dark green branches of a pine tree. Natasha and Rhodes carry in a small tree, with Rocket following behind them, an axe propped over his shoulder.

“What the hell is that?” Ana demands quietly, her chest tightening.

“It’s a tree,” Nat snipes dryly. “What the hell does it look like?”

They set the tree down in the living room, adjusting the stand that’s already anchored to the trunk. An onslaught of rage and heartache overcome Ana for reasons she can’t quite comprehend. Abruptly it takes everything she has not to grab the axe from Rocket, chop the tree into little pieces and throw them into the fireplace.

Holidays are meant to be joyful. Holidays are meant to celebrate with families and loved ones. Holidays are meant to bring brightness. They’re meant for the rest of the world to fade away into warmth, sparkles, the smells of baked goods.

Not this time. Ana sees nothing joyous about that tree, just the inevitable death of its needles. She doesn’t feel the warmth of the season, just the continuous frigid void in her chest. Outside, the falling snow morphs into ashes.

“Get it out of here.” Ana nearly growls, her fists clenching; the lights flicker. She can no longer look at it without wanting to scream.

“Uh, why?” Rhodes demands, crossing his arms. “It’s nearly Christmas.”

“I don’t care, just get it out! I don’t want it in here! It doesn’t belong here!”

Rhodes serves Ana a look so stern, she abruptly feels like a scolded child.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to dial that back,” He commands, gesturing to her. “This is misplaced anger, and you’re taking it out the wrong way. This might not be something you want, but don’t forget, you aren’t the only one suffering through depression. And maybe if you recognized that, you’d realize a damn Christmas tree just might make everyone else forget the shit that’s happened for once.”

His words are a punch to her heart. Immediately all her anger melts from her bones as she looks at the floor. Rhodey is one hundred percent correct, embarrassingly Ana is reminded of how much she truly missed when she shut her emotions off. She hasn’t been fair or considerate of anyone for months. Just because she can’t handle a fucking tree, doesn’t mean she can force anyone else to do the same.

Her throat burns with that wake-up call; the flicker stop flickering. Ana slowly gathers herself, breathes deeply while stroking her hands over her stomach to soothe herself. The baby moves and rolls in response. Finally, she nods.

“You’re absolutely right,” She concedes, meeting his eyes once more. “I’m sorry I snapped. I just…I’m just not in the mood to celebrate any holiday, but I shouldn’t expect anyone else to. I apologize.”

Rhodes stares her down a few moments before his expression breaks. “Accepted.”

The tense silence that follows is heavy and awkward, until Steve pushes the coffee mug back into Ana’s hand. “Just the one cup.”

She silently takes the mug, barely feeling the warmth of the coffee on her fingers. “I’m just going to go lay down now.”

As she makes her exit, Rhodey stops her. “Do you…need anything?” He offers kindly.

She gives him a grateful smile over her shoulder. “No, thank you.”

*

Steve has been distracting himself from checking up on Ana by pulling the dust covered box of decorations from storage and going through it. Oddly, a glass ornament is wrapped in newspaper, and with a delicate swipe of his fingers over the ink, he’s brought back to another lifetime eight decades ago.

Christmases during The Great Depression weren’t grand; far from it. Memories of Steve stuffing his shoes with old newspapers to keep his feet warm- and possibly give himself a few extra inches in height- fill his head. His mother carefully wrapping handmade ornaments in those same newspapers. 

A slightly dirty Bucky just back from working odd jobs here and there, holding up a turkey he received as payment. He had dragged both Steve and his mother over to the Barnes household for a rare Christmas Eve dinner.

Giggles of four little girls huddled together as they watched Steve nail their brother in the face with a slush of a snowball. A quiet night of serving his mother tea as she laid sick in bed. Yet she still gifted him fresh parchment bound together to go with the charcoal pencils Bucky got him earlier.

The memories turn melancholy as Steve remembers that first Christmas without his mother. How Bucky selflessly spent the night away from his own family, taking care of a feverish Steve, even though all he wanted to do was stay huddled in bed and cry himself to sleep from grief. Instead, Bucky pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his tattered coat and dumped some into Steve’s tea.

“Nicked it from that banker's house on the other side of town,” Bucky had shrugged, looked proud of himself before he took a swig from the bottle.

“Buck,” Steve had reprimanded weakly. Until he remembered that banker is the one who cheated on his wife and bragged about it. He had taken too big of a gulp, nearly choked and spluttered.

Bucky waited, patted his back until his airways cleared. “Did that no good, two-timer notice you?”

“Hell no,” Bucky laughed. “Guys like him deserve to have his illegal booze stolen, he’s got enough money to smuggle more. Did you take your medicine?”

Steve held up his mug. Bucky rolled his eyes, then gently pushed him over to snuggle in next to him. Not once did he ever leave Steve’s side. Instead he chatted his ear off with stories of Rebecca attempting to make her own dolls, and that one brunette, brown-eyed dame he tried to save from a sleazy man before she decked the guy square in the jaw.

“I’m sweet on her now. Whatty’a think, Stevie? Think I’ve got a chance with a dame like that?”

(Steve huffs a laugh when he remembers that bit. Bucky always did have a type; it’s no wonder he fell for Ana so quickly.)

"Nah,” Steve said through a cough. “A girl like that wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

“Punk.” Bucky rubbed his knuckles atop his head.

“Jerk.” He weakly shoved him in retaliation.

Silence fell between them; sleep quickly took over Steve’s tired and sick body. He had slid further down the bed, pulling the thin blanket up to his chin.

“Thank you, Buck. For being here.”

Bucky took a minute to respond. “Didn’t want you to be alone during the holidays. With you til the end of the line, pal.”

The light pitters of something wet hitting the newspaper brings Steve back to the present. A few dark drops absorb into the paper before he realizes he’s crying. He hastily wipes the tear off his face, clears his throat and wills away the pain in his heart. Steve gets it. He understands why Ana reacted the way she did.

Shaking his head to clear his past, he rewraps the ornament and returns to his task. Once he’s done, Steve just sits in the closet by himself for a while; allows him himself to wallow. He’s absentmindedly scratching his growing beard, wondering if he should give it a shave when FRIDAY alerts him.

“Captain Rogers, the weather is a brisk 25 degrees outside, with steady snowfall.”

Frowning up at the ceiling as if the AI can see him, he replies, confused. “Thank you? Is there a reason you’re giving me a weather report?”

He swears FRIDAY sigh. “Mrs. Barnes has been sitting out for-“

“Got it, thanks.” Steve cuts her off, yanking the door open. He knows exactly where Ana is.

As he quickly makes his way through the compound, Steve apologizes to that younger Bucky during the all those winters. He recalls his exasperated best friend every time Steve hid out on rooftops and fire escapes after getting into fights. Every time, Bucky had been there with Steve’s coat, or just taken his own coat off to wrap around Steve’s scrawny little shoulders instead.

“Christ, Stevie, your lungs ain’t gonna work anymore the longer you stay out here, punk.”

When Steve climbs through her window, and finally opens the door to the roof, the irony isn’t lost on him. Ana is sitting on the furthest chair, staring out into the frosted woods, snow catching in her long hair. Only a thin blanket over her lap protects her from the cold and the biting wind from the height of the deck. Her hands are protectively cradling the bump of her stomach.

“Ana, what are you doing out here?” Steve questions, briskly walking to her. He places the jacket he found in her room over her shoulders; one of Bucky’s jackets. “You’ll freeze your toes off.”

“You’ll freeze your damn toes off, and I will not explain to your Ma why her son got frostbite.”

He wraps an arm around her, pulling her into his side to share his body heat with her. The old memories of Bucky practically yanking his asthmatic self into a slightly warmer building fade away.

“This is where we kissed the first time,” Ana reminisces, a quiet reserve to her voice. She points adjacent to them. “Right there, when I said those triggers words, he kissed me.”

Steve remembers when Bucky couldn’t stop pacing in his room after that night, panic stricken because he didn’t know how to process his feelings for her. He couldn’t understand how she put so much trust into him. Steve squeezes her shoulder, hoping to offer her some comfort.

“This is where Bucky told me he loved me for the first time. Up here, with pizza.”

His chest feels hollow realizing how many memories this rooftop holds for her. “C’mon honey, it’s not good for you to be out here, let’s go back inside. Warm you up.”

“Nothing is ever going to be the same,” Ana laments as if she didn’t hear him. “Holidays, birthdays, celebrations. Life.”

“Yeah.” Steve exhales wearily.

“I knew this. I knew all of this, but…for months I acted like I was the only one holding onto this grief so heavily. I’ve lost everyone, Steve. I’ve lost my whole family and I never thought I could feel more pain and grief than that. But I was wrong, this is so different. Because I could feel him leave me. I could feel Bucky’s soul rip from mine.”

“It’s incredible, Stevie. I can feel her all the time, like her life energy is this infinite sunlight around me.”

He sees that day clearly when Bucky had said those words to him. He remembers the look of pure awe and adoration on his friend’s face that day. Steve squeezes her closer, offering his comfort in the cold bitter air. Something wet falls onto his shirt, soaks in quicker than the snowflakes. He lifts his hand, gently wiping the tears off her cheeks before the cold can freeze them there.

“Hey now, Steve, c’mon. No tears, they’ll freeze on your face, pal.”

Steve swallows back yet another whispered memory, when he was frustrated the neighborhood bully just kicked his ass no matter how many times Steve got back up.

“Your pain isn’t invalid, Ana,” He tells her delicately, lifting the sleeve of the jacket to dry her face. “That is something none of us will ever begin to comprehend, that connection you both shared.”

“Maybe not,” Ana sniffs, “but that shouldn’t erase anyone else’s pain in my mind and that’s exactly what I was doing.”

“Watching you turn off your emotions was- fuck, it was haunting. It was scary because we couldn’t tell if doing that was just hurting you instead. I hated that you did that, but I also understand why you did. I think we just-“ Steve pauses to gather his words properly.

Ana speaks up before he does. “I’ll never be able to express how sorry I am for shutting everyone out, for acting like- well...like a cold hearted-“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Steve chastises firmly. “I think we just wanted to have any ounce of your old self back. We were all concerned.”

“I’m still trying to find that myself,” Ana sighs, voice cracking; she sounds exhausted. She tilts her head to the side, leaning on his shoulder. “I got mad about the tree because the memories of last Christmas are perfect. It was our first one together, did you know that? Our first time celebrating the holiday season. I don’t want to celebrate anything.”

“So, keep the eggnog away from you then?” Steve quips lamely. Ana winces and gags.

“Fuck no,” She picks her head back up. “I don’t think the baby’s palate will tolerate that.”

“And I don’t think the baby can tolerate the cold much longer,” He counters. “Let’s get you inside.”

Steve drops his arm in favor of carefully helping up from the chair. Ana winces again, her hands covering her stomach. Pain flashes over her face for a moment, and panic shoots through Steve’s chest.

“Are you okay? What was that?” He asks worriedly, hand hovering along her back.

“It's fine,” She pants, waving him off with her hand. “Just some pressure is all. Little Bean’s running out of room I think.” Relief shags Steve’s shoulders. Until- “The baby is moving a lot. Do you want to feel-?”

“I’m good. That’s not, uh, it’s kind of intimate. Time to go inside.” Steve ignores her bewildered look and focuses on guiding Ana down the stairs safely. He keeps Bucky’s jacket wrapped tight around her.

*

The memory of last Christmas spent snuggling close with Bucky in front of a fire and talking about their future mocks Ana. It was one of those perfect moments in a lifetime, and she didn’t want to tarnish the memory with this Christmas being...widowed. Alone and 7 months pregnant.

Since Rhodey’s harsh truth, Ana has kept any bitter despair to herself. However, she did allow herself one moment of a Christmas song. It made her smile briefly, before a memory of both Bucky and Tony singing at the top of their lungs as they decorated the tree cut it short.

Ana does not want to decorate the tree. She stays in her room, until Rocket barges in, trailing a bunch of silver tinsel in his wake.

He demands to know, “Who was the asshole to make such a messy infuriating thing to put on a damn stupid tree!?”

Nebula stood at the doorway, a murderous expression on her face as she fights with several pieces of tinsel, static making it cling to her. Ana can’t help the surprised laugh that bubbles out of her at the both of them.

Vaguely, in the back of her mind as Rocket drags her out of her room demanding to untangle the tinsel, Ana thinks the two might have planned it all. She’s exhausted by the time she unknots the stuff, focusing more on the silver plastic and quietly refusing to put anything on the tree.

By the time she’s done, she waddles back to her room, Natasha close behind. All she does is hand Ana a hot mug of cider and snuggles in close. Nat talks to and gently pets her hands over her stomach and promises the baby to teach them her “death by thighs” move one day. Ana drifts off to sleep, head tucked under Natasha’s neck.

When Christmas does come around, it’s with stinging emptiness, of several people missing and the weight of the whole world grieving. At breakfast, as she’s slowly eating, Ana finds herself with a small pile of gifts next to her on the table. Her glare prompts a response from Steve who had given her one more.

“You stayed locked in your room for your birthday last month,” He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You aren’t having a baby shower. Just accept them. Please?”

Most gifts end up being for the baby anyway, including a crib, so Ana lets it slide and quietly thanks them.

She ends up fighting back tears the longer she stays out in the living room, desperately wanting to escape. She’s exhausted, down to her bones, and the aching in her chest throbbing Bucky’s name hurts more and more. She closes her eyes and breathes, flexing her fingers and smoothing her hands over her stomach. The baby kicks and moves before it settles a few moments later.

Someone sits next to her, and she doesn’t have to open her eyes to tell that the stupidly large and warm bicep pressing against her own arm is Steve. He doesn’t say anything, just simply takes hold of her right hand, and squeezes. 

He doesn’t let go, and despite the prickling of tears behind her eyelids and the trembling of her lips, Ana leans her head against his shoulder. The sense of comfort seeps into her own energy, and soon after she falls asleep.

30 Weeks Pregnant:

Just on the verge of her eighth month, Ana hears Natasha’s irritated sigh, as she munches on a slice of mango pizza. 

"Ana, I swear if you don’t stop nesting in the office, I will throw away all the mangoes and you’ll be stuck with mushrooms for your pizza topping from now on.”

As Natasha Romanoff threats go, it’s rather mild. She shrugs as Nat holds up two files as proof.

“It was messy!” Ana defends, her feet propped up on the coffee table.

“Lucky you’re pregnant,” She grumbles.

“Enhanced hearing, remember?”

Natasha glares at her. “It took me an hour to find my notes. Why don’t you organize Steve’s shit? Or Rocket’s? I haven’t seen you in Nebula’s room, go nest in there.”

“Nebula would cut my hand off, pregnant or not.”

“It’s true.” Nebula speaks up with her husky low menacing voice, pizza slice in hand. Ana raises her eyebrows at her. She pauses. “Maybe.”

Ana beams. Natasha huffs, coming over to join them. She bends over to gently pat Ana’s belly. Which has grown even more in the past weeks, but dropped as well, the baby’s head sitting lower.

“Your mama better name you Natasha after I put up with her little tendencies huh little one?” Nat coos.

“That’ll go over well if Bean is a boy,” Ana jokes, also patting over where she thinks its little foot is. There’s a responding nudge, a rather firm one. Ana frowns. “Sassy.” Natasha chuckles, then steals Ana’s slice. “Hey!”

“Now someone’s hand will be chopped off,” Nebula inputs at the scene. Ana nods with a pout.

“What are you going to do? Waddle after me with your swollen ankles?” Nat teases.

“You’re being mean to me,” She whines, but can’t keep the smile off her face.

Neither can Nat. “Then keep your nesting habits away from my files, Barnes.”

Ana steals the slice back. “I also reorganized your knives.”

 That earns another glare. “So, so lucky you’re pregnant.”

It’s rare, these little moments of teasing and humor. Five months have passed since The Snap, and Ana’s grief and pain are still as crushing as ever. Her dreams remain constant. Dealing with feeling her emotions again has become a little easier, but there are days where she feels shattered by them, and cries into her pillow, or the nearest pair of arms.

Lately, it’s been Natasha. But these moments are what helps get Ana and everyone else through the day. Hour by hour, day by day, week by week. She has also been keeping herself in check and trying to be attentive to everyone’s feelings around her.

“Has Steve woman upped yet and felt the baby kick?” Nat wonders. The red roots of her hair are growing back faster now.

“No…He’s still a little creeped out,” Ana yawns. “It’s kinda funny.”

Humming, Natasha suddenly stands up. “Time for your checkup, let’s go.” Groaning, Ana shoves the last bits of her pizza into her mouth. “Come on. It’s one of the last ones before your due date.”

Ana shimmies from her rather comfortable spot on the couch to the edge, taking a deep breath and readying her swollen ankles to stand. Both Natasha and Nebula carefully grab an arm and help Ana up, keeping her steady until she can stand on her own. An odd sort of pressure throb through her stomach, and she frowns, suddenly thankful she does have a checkup today. 

*

Three days later has Ana gasping awake from her dream. This time she swears she feels ashes slip through her fingers. Brings her right back to that horrid day in Wakanda, when she couldn’t reach Bucky in time. The same constricting feeling settles in her chest, and the room begins to feel hot; a golden orange glow briefly emits from her clenched hands.

Before her powers can lash out, Ana moves the best she can, hurriedly grabbing one of the beads. It only takes a few moments to get a video up, but the second she hears his voice, her heart begins to settle. The glow fades, and the rattling in the room that had started ceases.

Bucky’s timbre soothes her, replaying his lullaby twice more. On the third time, Ana pauses the recording, the projected image frozen on Bucky’s sweet face. The gentle fondness in his blue eyes, the slightly crooked smile, his long hair pulled into a bun, his beard just a touch unruly.

She remembers this day precisely; one of the last days Bucky sang to her stomach, to their child. No matter how many times Ana reminded him that the baby couldn’t hear him yet, he never cared.

It never stopped Bucky from randomly moving from one spot -be it the couch, bed, another room, the hut- to wherever Ana was and kept singing. It never stopped him from dropping to his knees as she made another strange snack she was craving in the kitchen and nuzzling his face against her barely there bump. Never kept him from staying up as she fell asleep to his words whispering lovingly against her skin. Feeling his warm breath, his sweet lips, his soft beard, his gentle caress of his fingers over her stomach. Feeling his heart, his love, his soul.

“I can hear it. The heartbeat.” Bucky would tell her, voice thick with emotion.

She hasn’t felt Bucky for months. 

Ana reaches out like she does in her dreams, fingers curving over his holographic jaw. She keeps her touch delicate, as to not distort the image. In this moment, only for a moment, she pretends she can feel him. Pretends that her husband is truly looking back at her.

“I’m sorry, Snowflake,” Ana murmurs, tears burning in her throat. “I haven’t been the same without you. I turned off my emotions. You wouldn’t have liked that at all, would you? I don’t even like myself right now.” 

Ana swipes the tears off her chin with her left hand. “But I swear I’ll try to be better. I swear I will take care of our baby for both of us, and he, she- our child will grow up knowing exactly who you are and how much you loved them. I just…I miss you. God, I miss you so fucking much I can’t breathe most of the time, and it hurts.”

Inhaling a shuddering breath, tears overcome her, sobs hitching in her chest. Ana brushes her shaking fingers over his cheek, the image rippling from her touch.

“I love you.”

When she turns off the bead and the image vanishes, she weeps into her hands. Ana wipes her cheeks, attempting to calm herself. Taking deep breaths, she places the bead back into it’s safe place in the drawer. A rather sharp kick from within makes her wince, then chuckle.

“Sorry, baby. I know I’ve been crying a lot lately.” Ana says to her stomach, rubbing soothing circles over her belly. “That can’t feel too good for you either.”

Once Ana’s crying slows, she cleans her face with tissues, blows her nose, and throws the tissues away in the bin beside her bed. Just then her ears pick up a sound outside her room. Carefully standing up, she walks to the door, pulling it open.

“Steve,” Ana greets with a sigh. She shouldn’t be shocked at this point.

Steve smiles sheepishly. “You alright?”

“Yeah. How much did you hear?”

He leans against the door frame crossing his arms, his shoulders hunched. “Just the ending. Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Just came by to see if you want to-“

Another kick and more movement briefly make Ana miss what he’s saying. Blowing a slow breath out she presses her hands over the spot; things are starting to get more uncomfortable.

“Sorry, could you repeat?”

He flashes her an understanding look. “Asked if you wanted to go for a walk with us. Nat and I.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Ana agrees, fighting a wince from the kicking. “Dr. Hammond suggests it now that I seem to be healthy enough. Said the walking could help calm the baby.”

He laughs under his breath. “I can kinda see why,” He says, eyes on her stomach.

“Yeah, this little bean has been more active lately,” She pauses “Steve, um, would you like to feel the baby kick?”

Steve’s eyes snap up to her. “Oh, um, isn’t that a bit personal? I mean-“ He stumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Ana rolls her eyes fondly. This is her husband’s best friend, he shouldn’t feel weird about it. She grabs his hand, placing the flat of his palm just to the right of her stomach. A few long seconds pass, Ana carefully watching Steve’s expression. 

His brows are furrowed, his mouth curving down, as if he’s sad the baby isn’t moving for him. Then, the same rolling pushing movement comes once more and Steve’s blue eyes light up.

His mouth falls open slightly, a toothy smile across his lips. “Ana,” He gasps, meeting her eyes. “That’s…amazing.”

Ana can’t help but laugh, her heartache forgotten for the time being. “See, nothing to be nervous about. Kinda cool, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah. This, this is your baby. You and Buck’s…” His excitement fades into sorrow. Steve lifts his other hand to the opposite side, lightly scrunching his fingers as if he’s waving in a way.

“How about that walk now?” Ana cuts the melancholy short. She’s starting to feel the energy around them changing. Steve’s energy; the same kind he has been keeping from her. “Is it nice out?”

Pulling his hands off her stomach, Steve clears his throat and nods. “Bit warmer today, 56 right now.”

“Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“No rush.” Steve takes a step before he halts. “Are sure you’re okay, Ana?”

She gives him her most convincing smile, which is a good attempt on her part. “Yeah. Just, missing him a lot today. That’s everyday though,” She chuckles humorlessly. “I swear I’m good, Steve.”

Steve’s scrutiny lasted longer than Ana would have liked. Then he nods. “Take your time.” 

 *

The only entertaining thing about New Year’s passing was Ana sitting out on the patio, watching Rocket and Rhodey rig together a contraption to set off fireworks. Natasha sat next to her, Ana’s legs on her lap as she massaged her swollen ankles and feet under a warm cable knit blanket, sitting next to a heater. Nebula and Steve are locked in a card game, when the first firework goes off. Steve flinches then frowns. His eyes meet Ana’s for briefly, before he goes back to discarding.

As explosions go off in the sky, Bucky tightens his arms around Ana’s waist, his face hidden in her neck as he presses a kiss to her pulse. “I don’t think I’m fond of fireworks.”

Ana brushes her fingers through his soft hair, gently scratching his scalp. Slowly she uses her ability to calm his energy, soothe him deeper than a touch. “Makes sense. You are a war vet.”

“Used to hear them go off in Romania sometimes,” Bucky had confessed. “Always thought it was a sign Hydra found me. That they had bombs set around the building I lived in. It was something I could never shake.” 

Another one goes off in the distance; Bucky inhales her scent, his hands clutching her skin. Ana catches Tony walking by. “Tony, I thought no one was allowed to set off fireworks up here.”

He catches on quickly, pointing his glass of whiskey towards Bucky. Ana nods, then with an annoyed flare, he says, “Those damn kids. Goodie! I felt like chewing someone’s ear off tonight. I’ll call them!”

Bucky snorts, then sighs in content as Ana continues to relax his nerves with her powers. “They’re pretty, but...too loud.”

“I got you, Snowflake,” Ana promised, pulling up the blanket to cover them both and hide them away. 

“I know you do, Annie Doll,” He breathes sleepy. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen though.”

Ana chuckles, kissing the tip of her husband’s head as he drifts off to sleep. She can’t think of a better way to bring in the new year than Bucky feeling safe enough in her embrace to fall asleep, even with the ghosts that still haunt his past.

 POP!

Another firework glittering in the winter sky rips Ana out of her memories. She catches the small wince of broad shoulders.

“Hey guys,” Ana calls out to Rocket and Rhodey. “I don’t think the baby is fond of fireworks right now. Do you mind if you stop please?”

Rhodey acknowledges her meaningful look, beginning to replace the ones he took out. Rocket shrugs, turns off the machine they built with a wide grin.

“I just wanted to see if I could build it. I did, now I’m bored.” He states, then meets Ana’s eyes.

“How’s about we beat these losers at a game of poker?”

“Deal.”

Ana only lasts two rounds of poker, before Steve is helping her settle into bed. He insisted on following her and carrying her hot tea for her. She adjusts her body pillow and gets comfortable, tapping her hand over the lower part of her stomach where the baby settled with her.

“Thank you,” Steve says, pulling the comforter up for her. “For the fireworks. I know you did it for me.”

“Bucky and I,” Ana begins, pausing only to push past the lump in her throat. “We stayed at Tony’s cabin during the holidays. I don’t think he heard fireworks go off in a while, and out in the woods you aren’t allowed to bring them or set them off. Some neighbors did, and he was nervous about them. I calmed him as much as I could.”

“He never told me that,” Steve says, frowning. The look he gives Ana though, makes her feel bashful. His features soften, and he almost looks...happy. “He was always so in love with you, Ana, before he even knew it. Bucky wasn’t one to ever open up to anyone, even when we were kids. Watching him with you…I’m glad he found you.”

Ana sniffs, rubbing her eyes to stop the tears welling up from falling. The empty ache in her chest is a permanent feeling.

“Sorry, too much Bucky talk. You were having a better night, I shouldn’t ruin it.” Grabbing her hand, he gives it a firm squeeze.

“It’s alright. I just...didn’t want you to feel that same way.” She squeezes back.

“Get some sleep, Ana.”

As she relaxes, her body ready for said sleep, she says, “You too, Steve.”

It’s one of her better days; Ana sleeps through midnight, but the haunting call of her name still echoes through her mind. Her soul still screaming for its other half.

The week following the new year is slow, as if 2019 wants to remind them of half the universe gone. However, Ana’s panic slowly begins to build as she realizes there’s just over a month of the baby arriving.

She’s sitting in the room they decided to turn into a nursery -the room right next to hers- slowly stroking her hands over and over her round stomach. Looking around the room gives her mixed feelings.

A part of her seems to be happy, almost excited to be a mother. The other parts outweigh the joy, however. The bare walls, void of any decorations, makes her heart break. The dark wood of the crib and the changing table makes her seethe. The little animal mobile above the crib breaks her. The mobile hangs an orange fox, a gray owl, a brown bear, and a white wolf. 

Pushing herself off the rocking chair, Ana grabs the wolf and tears it off. The whole mobile comes down, crashing into the crib, but the wolf is clutched in her palm. She stares at it, anger boiling in her blood for reasons she can’t explain.

The harder she squeezes, the brighter her hand becomes. Flickering lights throw the room into shadows, over and over. Smoke is beginning to emit from the little wolf, her chest tightening as the edges singe. 

“I leave for, what, three weeks, and here you are literally starting fires in your hands.”

Ana snaps her head up. Carol Danvers is standing in front of her, amusement dancing in her eyes instead of any reprimandation. Carefully she places both of her hands over Ana’s fist, and all her raging energy subsides. She hadn’t been aware of anyone coming into the room, so focused on the white wolf.

Quickly pulling her hand out of Carol’s, Ana slowly uncurls her fingers. Sitting in the middle of her palm are the remains of the wolf, completely incinerated. Panicking, she drops it, the tiny ashes caught between her fingers.

“Oh my god,” Ana whispers, horrified at herself.

“Hey, Barnes, I’m sure it's fine,” Carol tells her gently. “They can get you another one.”

“You-you don’t understand,” Ana shakes her head frantically. Ash. Ashes on her hand, her fingers, ingrained in her skin. “I-I have to wash my hand. I have to wash my hand!”

“Come on.” 

Carol guides her out of the room, a steady hand on her back, and into the bathroom. Ana proceeds to scrub her right hand at least four times, and once again until her skin feels raw. She feels out of breath afterward, reaching for Carol once more.

“Can you take some deep breaths for me?” Carol coaches, helping her sit on the edge of the tub.

Ana huffs. “I’m trying. I-I can’t. No! Don’t touch me! What if…what if I hurt you? Like I hurt Steve?”

“Look at me, Ana. You are fine, you’re okay right now. You just got worked up and that’s okay.” Carol keeps firm eye contact. She attempts to hold her hands again, this time Ana allows her. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You aren’t going to hurt me or anyone else.”

Finally, Ana gets a deep breath in. She regulates her breathing with help from Carol, until she feels like her senses and energy are no longer overstimulated. Once she’s calm, they leave the bathroom and head outside to the bac deck at Ana’s request. The chill of the air clears her head more as she sinks into a chair. 

“It was a white wolf,” Ana tells Carol. Her silence is a cue to elaborate. “My husband...Bucky. He was given that moniker while he was recovering in Wakanda. He told me they sort of adopted, well, accepted him into their family, their culture. King T’Challa told me it also meant strong warrior.”

“That why you tore it off?” She guesses.

Ana shrugs, thinking it over. “I think I was already feeling too many emotions. I saw it, it reminded me of him and how- how everything in that room, we didn’t pick together. Hell, I barely picked anything in that room. I really appreciate Pepper and Nat setting it up, but we couldn’t do it together.”

Danvers remains quiet again, but Ana is grateful for it. She’s pretty good at reading how Ana is feeling, and her silent support is more appreciated than she knows. Ana’s energy always seems to stay dormant every time Carol is close. It’s something interesting to look into later.

“Where have you been?” Ana asks after some time.

During this time Steve found them after FRIDAY alerted him and gave her a thick blanket to keep warm. He stayed long enough to turn on the heaters, then left the women alone, but quietly thanked Carol in a nod Ana caught.

Carol sighs, slumping in her chair and propping her heels on the table. “Other planets. Some are worse from the repercussion of what that purple scrotum sack did. Been getting a lot of hits on my radar. I came back to bring you more elixir in case you needed it. And to check in on my favorite avenger.”

“M’not an avenger but Nat’s in the shooting range. Nebula is...I don’t know what she’s doing but I’m afraid to ask sometimes.”

She snorts. “So, should I not get you a stuffed wolf when the baby is born?”

Ana flicks her off, but Carol’s resounding laugh brings a smile to her face. 

*

When Pepper calls two days later, Ana can’t help but feel something odd about their conversation. As they chat about pregnancy, (”It’s like every ten minutes, Pep, I have to pee every ten minutes!”) Ana asking for any advice her cousin may for her upcoming labor, something continues to feel off. Especially when Pepper drops Tony’s name three times. The mention of him causes her to remember something about FRIDAY.

“Oh!” Ana perks up. “Has FRIDAY informed you of anything about me? Or to-”

A little voice pops up in the background, begging for a snack. “One second, sweetie,” Pepper says to her daughter, then back to Ana. “She just tells me your vitals sometimes.”

“That’s it? She doesn’t ask you for permission to use a security protocol?”

“I- Morgan, be patient please, I’m making it now. Sorry, Ana.”

“It’s fine. I was just wondering why T- um...FRIDAY would feel the need  to program an added feature.”

“What are you trying to ask?”

“I just...why would someone need to add an electric defense mechanism-”

“You know what?” Pepper cuts her off, exasperated. “I’m tired of being a go between. I have a toddler to raise who is currently trying to cut her own grapes, and I can’t deal with this right now. I love you, but if you want to know why, you need to ask him yourself.”

“Pep, what are you-”

“This riff between you two has gone on long enough. Talk to each other. I already have one child, I don’t need to raise two more. Speaking of which, you need to tell him. Here!”

“Wait, no!” Ana’s shout disturbs Rhodey from reading his book. 

He casts a curious glance her way. She frantically shakes her head, though Pepper can’t see her. Rhodey has now put down his book, mouthing an over dramatic what? Before she can let him know what is about to happen, it happens. There’s a shuffling on the other side of the line, followed by a confused yelp.

Quickly pressing the phone to her chest, she looks over at Rhodey in panic. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms; a sign of him agreeing with Pepper after he caught on. Taking a few calming breaths, Ana puts the phone back to her ear.

“-think the line went dead,” Is what she hears on the other side. Tony’s voice.

Heartbeat kicking up several notches, Ana braces herself. “I’m- I’m here.”

“Oh.” There’s a brief pause. “Hello.”

He sounds like he’s meeting a CEO of a company he dislikes. As if he would rather be anywhere else than speak with her.

“Hey, uh, hi. H-how are your day?” Ana cringes, wishing the ground would cave from under her. How are your day? Why is she so nervous to just speak with him!

“Good, great. If that was a question.” Tony answers, his voice is carefully calculated. “How are your day?” He repeats.

If she wasn’t feeling so guilty, so anxious, she may have laughed. Instead, she decides to get right to it. The sooner she tells him, the sooner she can end this painful phone call. “I have something to tell you.”

“Pepper mentioned.”

Right. Fuck, if she didn’t answer her phone, this wouldn’t be happening. Maybe Ana would have been fine with never telling Tony, and he would just have found out some other way. She just knows, deep down, how hurt he might possibly be.

She has never kept anything from Tony for as long as she knew him. With the way they left each other five months ago, well, telling him something he hadn’t known for this long could just drive the wedge between them even deeper.

Ana opens her mouth but all that comes out are tiny sounds of words dying on her tongue. She closes her mouth, eyes shifting to Rhodey, who nods encouragingly. Ana gathers herself once more, swallows her hurt and any pride she may have.

“Tony,” She finally says.

“Yep?” His response is quick; a tone Ana knows all too well. It’s the tone he uses to mask his own hurt.

“I-I should have told you sooner, but-” Inhale. Exhale. It shouldn’t be that hard to tell him this. Tony had been with her through some of the hardest events in her life. Suddenly not telling him feels like she insulted him personally.

“I’m pregnant.” 

The silence that stretches lasts so long, Ana has to check if the line went dead; it didn’t. “Tony?”

“How far? Five months?” Tony finally speaks up. He sounds distant.

“Eight.” The word comes out as a whisper. “I’m eight months along. 34 weeks.”

“Had an inkling. Do you want a congratulations?”

Ana feels like she was just slapped in the face. Tony doesn’t sound angry, just neutral, but even so, the words sting more than she ever thought they would. Her eyes prickle, her vision gets blurry. She clears her throat, turning her back on Rhodey so he doesn’t see her reaction.

“No, no, it’s fine. Just wanted you to know.”

“Girl, boy?” He asks.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Going old school, I see.”

“I just...I figured it was time to tell you,” Ana’s voice trembles. Her heart is aching, like she just ripped a band-aid from a gaping wound she forgot about. “I’ll let you-”

“Is it healthy?” Tony abruptly cuts her off. “Are…are you healthy?”

The question catches her off guard. “I- yeah. Um, there’s been some emotional stress and bed rest incidents, but otherwise, we’re healthy.”

“Good, good. That’s good. It’s late, you should go, rest.”

“Oh, okay.” Ana says weakly, feeling drained and disappointed. “Yeah. Um, have a good night.” She pulls the phone from her ear to hang up, then hears Tony call her name.

“Ana.”

She quickly holds the phone back up. “Yeah?”

“Will you let me- let us know? When it’s time?” 

Ana can’t be too sure, but she thinks she picks up a hint of hopefulness in his voice. “Yeah, I will. I’ll tell you.”

Another beat of silence passes. “G’night, kid.”

The nickname feels bittersweet, but maybe it’s a step in rekindling what she ruined of their relationship. “Goodnight, Stark.”

After she hangs up, a firm yet comforting hand squeezes her shoulder. “You good?” Rhodes checks.

Nodding, Ana shoots him something close to a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I just...I think I miss him. I do miss him.”

“You should have told him that. I know he misses you too.”

“Maybe...next time.”

Just those few minutes of that conversation has left Ana exhausted. She decides to take a nap, hoping that maybe sleeping will ease the ache on her chest.

*

Annie

Pain abruptly pulls Ana out of her sleep, ripping away from that dream world. She stares at the ceiling in confusion, wondering what exactly hurt enough to wake her up. Minutes pass, her eyes closing as she’s on the verge of falling asleep yet again, when the second wave hits.

“Oh fuck!” Ana yelps, her hands flying to her stomach. “F-F-FRIDAY, am I having a contraction?”

“I cannot be 100% accurate,” FRIDAY responds quickly. “I have alerted Agent Romanoff. There is a possibility of Braxton Hicks Contractions. I suggest changing positions and counting the minutes between each one.” 

Annie

A mixture of a sob and laugh escaped Ana’s lips, because of course she would hear his voice now as she hisses curses through her teeth. Oddly, the voice seems to calm her internal panic, through her pain. As she begins to sit up and shift, Natasha throws open the door. 

She’s talking but Ana can’t focus on her words just yet, too busy trying to lay on her side and fight through the contracting pressure. Thankfully, Nat helps her move and settle into a new position. Too long goes by, but finally the pain stops.

“Breathe, remember those exercises,” Natasha is telling her, rubbing her back. Ana adjusts her pillows, feeling utterly exhausted. “Do you know how long that was?”

“Two minutes and 24 seconds,” FRIDAY informs them. “Twenty minutes apart from the first one.”

“FRIDAY get Dr. Hammond on the phone please.”

“Already contacted.”

Ana just shuts her eyes, listening to the slight commotion around her. The baby moves, an elbow or foot clearly unhappy about the lack of space inside her uterus. She rubs her hand around her stomach, ignoring her fear of not being ready quite yet; it’s too early to give birth. Ana begins to wonder how Bucky would have handled this. 

Instead of feeling sad, a small smile spreads across her lips. Imagining someone like Bucky who was usually pretty calm and level-headed in most situations, his longtime soldier status the reason for that, would probably be panicking. Considering how he always acted any time Ana was in pain or discomfort.

“You look like a crazy person smiling like that.”

“Hasn’t anyone told you not to call a pregnant woman crazy?” Ana mumbles, cracking her eyes open to see Rocket smirking at her. “Are you so starved for entertainment you wanted to see what potential childbirth is like?”

Rocket shrugs, smirking. “Once I convinced some jerk the only way to smuggle his gun off Contraxia was to shove it up his ass. This isn’t as fun.”

A chuckle escapes her mouth, and suddenly the pressure she’s been feeling in her lower abdominal eases away. Ana heaves out a deep, long breath. Rocket’s smirk morphs into concern as he reaches out to gently pat the back of her hand. 

“Can I confess something?” She whispers to him. He steps closer, tilting his head down. “I’m not ready yet.”

Rocket leans closer. “If you want to know my opinion. I think you got this.”

Then he winks as if they’re conspiring. Ana reaches out to gently stroke his ear. Rocket looks shocked at the affectionate gesture, then he relaxes, smiling like he’s proud to make her feel better.

Natasha interrupts their moment. “Ana, Dr. Hammond is on the phone. She’s on the way but wants to talk to you if you can.”

Taking the phone with her doctor relaxes Ana further. Though when she explains the severity of the pain, Dr. Hammond suggests she have a bag ready in case she does have to go to the hospital. The doctor also requests that the AI to monitor her closely and send FRIDAYs system readings be sent to her On-Call phone, just in case.

Through the night, two more odd contractions occur. Although being irregular and far apart though not any less painful, one more call to the doctor has Ana cursing Braxton Hicks contractions. Natasha stays with her the whole time, and Steve lingers by the closed door for far too long.

Sighing, Ana demands sleepily. “Rogers, just come in already, my god.”

Sheepishly, Steve enters the room, and hunkers down at the end of her bed. Ana drifts off into the same world where Bucky is always waiting for her, always barely able to touch her. When she wakes up from the clouds of ash, she slowly turns over. The sight she’s met with makes the tears in her eyes dry up.

Apparently, during the night, everyone made their way into her room. Nebula, Rocket, Carol and Rhodes all sleeping around the bed or propped up against the wall or chair. Smiling, Ana falls back to sleep.

35 Weeks: January 22nd

Over the last three days, Ana has become lethargic. She’s just so tired all the time, despite sleeping for a few solid hours. Maybe the constant trips into that dream world with the little girl and Bucky leave drain her energy more than she ever thought it would. Maybe waking up, never able to save Bucky is taking its toll, and her heart, her soul just aches. She is just so tired.

Though being eight months pregnant and having false contractions probably has something to do with how exhausted she’s been. Ana has yet to tell anyone about her dreams, or how they leave her feeling just as empty as the day it happened. Informing anyone would just lead to more worry, have them doting on her more than they already do.

Steve constantly eyes her, a twitch in his corded muscles as if he is ready to jump into action for her. He thinks he is being covert; he isn’t. Ana can still read and pick up on feelings and energies. Natasha is more inconspicuous about it, rather she just lingers in any room Ana shows up in. Nebula has taken to just drop next to her, pulling out the deck of playing cards, her dark eyes keen if Ana just shifts wrong.

Rocket chats her ear off with stories of him and the Guardians. Most adventures leave Ana clutching her big round stomach in laughter. It’s the most she has laughed in months, and she swears the little raccoon does this because she admitted she was scared to him.

Rhodes has been pulled away for more government and military business, although he calls to check in everyday. Carol keeps offering the last bottle of elixir but when Ana refuses, she just gives her a cup of tea instead. With sneaking suspicion, Ana thinks the tea is laced with the elixir anyway.

As the winter sun begins to set, its light casts an orange glow through the windows, makes the whole area look warm. To Ana, it bares too much a resemblance to her dreams. She turns to head to bed early, leaving the haunting sight of the sunset to paint the interior with its mockery. Ana grabs the mug of tea Danvers left seeping for her, turning her back on the light.

With the twist of her hips, a sharp stabbing pain shoots through her stomach. Ana shouts, dropping the mug, shattering on the floor as she doubles over in pain. This clenched pressure is more severe than the other night, Ana can’t even straighten up. She clutches the counter for balance, panting and gritting her teeth.

 Annie.

 “Ana!?” Someone calls in fear.

Trying to regulate her breathing, the pain slowly eases up. Ana cautiously straightens up, but the second she does, another pain zings through her lower stomach. Her fingers grip the counter so hard, the granite cracks, gives, then crumbles under her vice grip.

Strong arms wrap around her, balancing her the best they can. Ana is vaguely aware she’s being moved, but through the blinding pain, there’s an internal fear of something hurting her baby. The pain, the agony, the hurt; something isn’t right.

“Ba- the -ba-by,” Ana stammers, chest heaving, hands now clutching her stomach. Beneath her palms, she feels the baby writhe. “Fuck! It- it’s hurting.”

“What? What’s hurting the baby?” Someone demands urgently. “Call 911! Or get the jet ready! Anything! Ana. Ana, honey, look at me, can you hear me?”

All she hears is a panicked tone, firm callous hands squeezing her elbows. The baby shifts, curling and twisting in her stomach. Ana wants to reach in and protect her child, their child, from whatever is causing this white-hot agony.

She won’t release her arms from around her stomach, she can’t respond to anyone’s worried calls. She just shuts her eyes, tears stinging before they escape. She’s panting, trying to breathe but the darkness around the searing pain is almost too seductive to resist.

Suddenly, the pain stops. Ana can finally breathe in and out, in and out. Once she can inhale without any more contractions, she can finally speak.

“Something is wrong,” She breathes out, fear clenching around her heart. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“Just continue to breathe like you are,” Natasha urges, her voice shaky. “If you’re able to make it to the quinn jet we can fly you to the hospital.”

Bracing herself on whoever is holding her, Ana grabs at their shoulders slowly standing up. Concerned blue eyes gaze down at her, roaming over her face for any other signs of pain. Steve lifts his hand to her forehead, pressing his knuckles against her skin.

“Shit, you’re burning up. Let’s go, I’ll carry you if you can’t walk.” Steve offers, about ready to do just that.

“No,” She heaves, wincing as a lesser contraction wrecks her. She waits until it eases up. “But-but- these are too close together.” Ana gasps then, looking down at her legs, her pants soaked. “My water just broke.” She whispers, terrified. “Steve, it’s too early.”

The way those blue eyes shift from his own fear to determination soothes her terror just a little. Steve and Natasha volunteer to go with her, though Carol insists she help bring Ana up to the launch pad. As they leave, a concerned Rocket waves, wishing her good luck.

“Have fun,” Nebula pipes up after Ana is nearly out of ear shot.

“Have fun?” Rocket deadpans.

Nebula just shrugs, her hands balled into tight fists.

**

Arriving at the nearest hospital only takes fifteen minutes by jet. By some mercy, Ana doesn’t have another contraction or pain during the flight. Once they get her a wheelchair though, another occurs. People are talking around her as she fights and breaths through the pressured pain entering the hospital.

“Who’s your obstetrician?”

“Uh,” Ana pants, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. “Dr. Hammond.”

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to continue talking after that, as Dr. Hammond rushes through the doors of the floor they’re on. Grateful for Natasha taking over for filling out the remaining information needed.

“Is anyone coming in with you, Ana?” Dr. Hammond inquires, after speaking with some nurses. She looks between Steve and Natasha. 

The question catches her off guard. “No! No. I-” Ana chokes up, nearly breaking down with grief because Bucky isn’t here. She feels his absence, his death more than ever. “I can do it on my own.”

Those words seem to strike a chord with Steve. He abruptly moves in front of her, bending to her eye level. Fierce protectiveness shining in those blue eyes. Steve grips her hands hard enough for her to know.

“Ana,” He begins lowly, firmly. "You don't have-"

“I’m scared," She admits. Her bottom lip trembles as hot tears finally spill from her eyes. "I’m so scared. It’s too early. What if-“  

Hushing her gently, Steve carefully pushes back her damp hair. “I know, I know you’re scared right now. You can do this. I know you can. You are not alone. I’m with you, Natasha’s with you. We’re right here for you. You don’t have to do this alone if you don’t want to.”

Ana squeezes his hands as another mild contraction rolls through her. She hunches over, listening to Steve instruct her to breathe deeply. When it subsides, she looks up at him through tears.

“How can you be so sure?” She asks breathlessly.

He blinks, taking a second to realize what she means. Then his face softens. “Because you’re you. Because you’re the most determined, stubborn, and strong woman I know. You can do this. Then you get to meet your child after, and that is going to be amazing.”

Ana nods, trying her best to believe him. “Yeah, yeah you're right. I-I wish Pepper were here though.”

“We called her, she’s one her way.” Natasha pipes in, handing back the clipboard to the nurse.

"Nat,” Ana shudders out another deep breath as the baby wiggles around. Suddenly Steve’s words strike her deeper. “Will you stay with me?”

“I won’t leave your side.” Natasha promises fiercely.

Dr. Hammond jumps in then, informing Ana of a drug they’re going to give her to slow the labor, then run some tests. She instructs Natasha of a nurse coming out to bring her sanitary and protective gear for the delivery room when it’s time.

They wheel her towards another set of double doors, and that’s as far as Steve can follow for now. Before they go through, he bends over, placing a kiss on top of Ana’s head.

“You’re strong. You can do this. Everything is going to be fine. I promise.” Steve reminds her fervently.

Annie

A newfound strength enters her body. Ana can’t be certain if it was Steve giving her one last encouragement through her powers, or the voice in her ears.

*

Administering the drug does help slow Ana’s labor down, and thankfully she’s able to get the epidural put in. Steve is allowed to visit once she’s checked into her room and bed. Pepper gets delayed by a mild snowstorm but promises to be there as soon as she can.

Usually giving a drug to delay preterm labor to a soon to be mother works better, if the mother didn’t have a form of super soldier serum in her DNA. The drug wears off just nine hours later, as Ana found out as she awoke with more intense pains. Before she knows it, it’s time.

“Ready?” Dr. Hammond questions as she settles between Ana’s legs.

Frantically Ana shakes her head, scrambling to find Natasha’s hand. Nat grabs her hand with both of hers, leaning close to her head. It’s still too soon. What if something goes wrong? What if her powers act out? Oh god, what if baby doesn’t survive?

Natasha’s soothing voice in her ear encourages Ana as she pats the back of her hand. Listening to her words as the doctor and nurses prepare behind her propped-up feet, begins to calm Ana just a little. She swears she feels Nat’s steady, relaxed energy seep into her.

Instructions to push when necessary are relayed to Ana, but as she screams and shouts through gritted teeth and crushes Natasha’s hand, she has to. When the pushing starts, the lights in the room glow brighter. They begin to flicker, the room fading in and out of darkness. A golden hue shines around Natasha’s hands clasps over Ana’s. Her friend calling her name is slowly fading away, as she begins to fall under water.

Annie

She hears the muffled concerned voice of the doctor; something is wrong with the baby. Ana fights to stay awake. Fights to give her baby a chance because if Ana fades away now, will she take her child with her?

No. She refused to let that happen. Pushing with all her might, she channels what she has of her own energy through her blood, her body, to her child.

Annie

The voice beckons to her again. Over and over; a haunting echo of a lullaby. Ana stops fighting, allows the darkness of a faded loving caress to pull her in. She hears cries fill the room just as her world goes black.

 *

Stillness. Quiet. Serenity.

The absence of sound slowly pulls Ana up from the ground. As she stands there, her mind void of any thought, she stares ahead at the endless horizon. An invisible grip tugs from inside her chest, her feet moving of their own accord. She moves through the glassy sea, ripples spreading out with each step.

Blinking to awareness, Ana is face to face with a dark wooden door.

A small touch wraps around her left hand. Looking down, she sees that same little girl; her beautiful green skin, the markings on her cheeks, her red-brown hair. It’s her big eyes that gaze up at Ana that always reach into her heart. Ana closes her fingers around her little hand.

“Where am I?” Ana inquires, her voice quiet echo.

The child smiles. There’s something sad about it. “I think you know.”

Casting a glance around at the horizon of every way, she nods. “What is your name?”

The girl pauses, but only for a moment. “Gamora.” It’s then she releases her hand and steps back. “You aren’t here for me though. That’s okay. I can wait.”

Perplexed, Ana asks, “What do you mean?”

Without answering, Gamora holds her arm out to the door in front of them. Ana shifts her eyes to the door, and what awaits on the other side. When she looks to the little girl once more for guidance, Gamora is gone. She doesn’t ponder where she could have vanished to. Ana places her hands on the door, and pushes.

Warmth blooms from her chest, as if her soul ignites within. Her heart fills with hope, with love, and with terror. Ana has been met with this same sight before. Has felt these same feelings race through her veins every time she sleeps.

Bucky stands before her. Same ocean blue eyes, same soft expression, same little smile on his lips. He takes a step forward, lifting his right hand. Ana bites her lip, dreading for when they make contact, he will crumble into ash like always.

“Hi Annie,” Bucky speaks. His voice seeping into her bones.

Despite the inevitable pounding through her chest, Ana brings her own hand up. Slowly, she reaches for him, the warmth of his hand erases any fear. Bucky intertwines their fingers together, his smile widening. Ana moves closer, squeezing his knuckles. When Bucky remains solid and firm in front of her, tears fill her eyes.

“Bucky.” His name leaves her lips on a sob.

Her husband gently cups her cheek with his left hand, the cold of his metal palm sending goosebumps all over her skin. Ana presses her lips to his hand, holding onto to this moment for as long as she can. Bucky pulls his hand from hers, only to wrap his arm around her waist, tugging her to his chest. Ana grips him tight around his back, resting her ear directly over his heart that she can hear pounding in his chest.

“Are you real?” She murmurs, tears falling down her cheeks.

His soft chuckle rumbles through his chest. He leans back, delicately cups her cheek to pick her head up. Bucky connects their foreheads, eyes gazing affectionately into hers. His vibranium thumb sweeps along her cheekbone, wiping away her tears.

“I’ve always been real in your dreams, darling.”

Ana lifts her hand from his back to brush her fingers through his soft hair. “Is that what this is then? Just a dream?”

"Not exactly.” He laments with a sigh. Ana leans back, and the happiness in those beautiful eyes of his fade away. “I fear you may be here permanently if you don’t leave soon.”

“But I- I just got you back,” Ana frowns, shifting her hand from his thick hair to his cheek. The soft scruff of his beard tickles her palm. Bucky turns his head, kissing her palm. Her heat sinks then. “This isn’t real.”

Sadly, Bucky shakes his head. “This isn’t your world. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be selfish and just hold you a bit longer.”

Ana fully throws her arms around him in a vice grip, foolishly thinking if she can hold him tight enough, he can stay buried in her soul forever. His returning hug is just as hard, the pain from his grip just confusing her more. They move at the same time, finding each other’s mouth and placing a firm, desperate kiss to their lips.

“I need you to go back now, love,” Bucky gently urges, after he breaks their kiss.

“I don’t want to,” Ana cries, now clutching at his chest. “I need you.”

Bucky’s eyes suddenly fill with tears, falling over the edge and down his cheeks. For the first time Ana has ever entered this dream world, Bucky has never cried. She delicately wipes the wetness from his beautiful face. His smile breaks her heart.

“Someone else needs you now, Ana.” He tells her. Bucky kisses her forehead. “It’s time to go.”

Her chest tightens then, as if her soul is losing him all over again. Nodding as tears continue to fall, Ana wraps him up in her arms one last time, holding onto his warmth. She presses her right hand firmly over his chest, memorizing the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I love you, Bucky. James, I-I love you so much,” Ana sobs.

Bucky runs his fingers through her hair, bringing the strands up to his mouth, before letting the hair fall back into place. “You’re my heart and soul, Ana. I love you.” He gently kisses her lips. When he pulls back once more, his blue eyes shine with pride. “She’s beautiful, by the way. Take care of her, Annie.”

“She?” Ana frowns, confused.

He places his hands on her chest. “Wake up.”

Then, Bucky fades into dust.

 *

Ana gasps.

"We got a pulse!” Someone shouts.

Ana blinks up at too bright lights, dazed, confused, abruptly cold. The commotion around her fades into the background as she slowly becomes aware of her surroundings. Her fingers scratch against stiff cotton, her damp skin making them feel too sensitive against her hands.

A dull pressure releases from her lower half, from her stomach perhaps? Her back? Her hips? Nope, it’s definitely soreness between her legs. She’s cold and sweaty, can now feel her hair sticking to her face. Her chest is heaving, her arms lifting as to reach for something.

“I don’t understand, her vitals stabilized quickly. They’re all normal, doctor.”

The minute the words break through the muffled barrier of whatever ocean she was under, is the minute she hears the crying. In a rush of sensory overload, everything crashes back to her.

Her baby. Ana just gave birth.

“Mrs. Barnes? Ana, can you hear me?” Dr. Hammond’s voice is speaking to her right.

Nodding frantically, Ana answers her hoarsely. “Y-yes. I’m fine. I-where’s my baby?”

Still a little unfocused, she misses when the nurses double check her vitals, and then, the wails of an infant come closer. Someone questions if it’s a good idea, doubts the steady condition she seems to be in. Whoever it was is shot down though, as blonde and red hair come into Ana’s vision.

“Thank, god,” Natasha breathes, her shoulder sagging. “You scared us.” She shakes her head, then smiles. “Would you like to meet your daughter now?”

Carefully, Natasha hands over a little bundle of a blanket, laying Ana’s baby on her chest. Hands works to gently tug down her gown and unwrap the blanket. It’s that first skin to skin contact, that first feel of her baby girl’s beating heart against her mother’s, that breaks Ana.

Ana cries, sobs, as she delicately holds her daughter against her chest. For the first time in a long time, her soul pulses with warmth.

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

Drabbles: Twenty-Three     Drabbles: Twenty-Five

(Note: Ana’s labor/birth is loosely based off of my sister-in-laws experience.)

Tags:  @thecreatiivecorner​​​ @buckyland​​​ @stressedasalways​​​ @watchoutforfrostbite​​​ @justreadingfics​​​ @keldachick​​​ @eurynome827​​​ @elatedmarvel​​​ @shesalatesh​​​ @paintedgreywriting​​​ ​​ @buckaroo-blue​​ @afewmarvelousthoughts​​ @crushedbyhyperbole​​ @shesalatesh​ @jaxthebookworm​

#bucky barnes x ofc #Bucky Barnes x Ana #bucky barnes x ana rios #steve rogers x platonic!ofc #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x original female character #delicate stages drabbles #delicate stages of life #bucky barnes angst #steve rogers angst #baby barnes

[anthropologicalhands]

2020 fic writing roundup

stealing this from @catty-words and even if it’s late, it’s a fun distraction from the sunday blues.

Total 2020 Word Count: 60,805 Total 2020 Hits: 2482 Other 2020 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 194; Comment threads: 42; Bookmarks: 18; Subscriptions: 16.

Total 2019 Word Count: 62,091 Total 2019 Hits: 4714 Other 2019 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 331, Comment Threads: 73, Bookmarks: 42, Subscriptions: 17

links and titles to 2020 works

[crazy ex girlfriend] my breathing is light and my head is filled silly [31,498] - oneshot series got a couple of new ones!

[crazy ex girlfriend] miss do it right [4,885] - heather helps valencia propose to beth.

[the 100] gifts (to be coveted) [5,302] - an outline of emori and murphy’s relationship, lots of emori introspection.

[dilwale] slipping from the shade [3,112] - a coda scene where meera and kaali finally get some alone time...for a little while.

[the 100] peace for the morning [2,698] - a modern AU memori fic inspired directly by a oneshot that I adore.

[crazy ex girlfriend] he’s a fun guy, and he’ll grow on you[5,857] - the nathaniel turns into a tree fic!

[dilwale dulhania le jayenge] the braveheart and the bride return hand in hand [1,511] - after their epic rescue romance, simran and raj face the reality of being married.

[crazy ex girlfriend] there are gators in west covina [5,932] - rebecca has Complicated feelings about nathaniel leaving for guatemala. told via metaphors.

Favorite Fic: Probably slipping from the shade. It’s simple, but I think the language feels nice and really matches the mood I’m trying to go for. Also, posting it after a long period where I struggled to write was really nice.

Hardest Fic: he’s a fun guy, and he’ll grow on you just...logistically figuring out why they were in that situation and what I could get away with for the nymph without exposition, not to mention that it was a very late birthday present, oops. (Also, lowkey annoyed that i just had an epiphany that i could have made nathaniel a cactus and it still probably would have been funny. damn.)

Do You Plan to Take Prompts in 2021? This one’s a maybe - I’m always happy to follow new prompts, but I just can’t guarantee that I’ll get to them.

What was the best thing about 2020? Writing Bollywood fic, oddly enough. The fics I had have a different style and tone that felt very satisfying.

While I haven’t posted anything for YuYu Hakusho yet, I have been outlining some ideas that are completely different from anything I thought I would write before, and I’m really, really excited to execute them.

What was the worst thing about 2020? For a specific concrete goal: I never got around to giving telepathy au a hard edit and got it ready to post.

In a more abstract sense, this has been a really hard year for writing. I’ve been lucky to be secure in my personal life, but for whatever reason, the pandemic took a huge toll mentally. But it’s not because I can’t write - there are at least 20-30,000 words of nearly-finished fics CEG (excluding telepathy au), Bollywood fics, and YuYu Hakusho currently on my laptop. 

What happened (I think) is that the perfectionist tendency I noticed last year has gotten much worse, which keeps me pointlessly revising without necessarily improving the quality of the work. I also was more scared - I posted some of these fics under Anonymous this year, despite not really having a good reason to do so. I’m not ashamed of any of them, but I legitimately had a hard time posting them under my name. I don’t like that.

Therefore, I think my focus this year is to try out a more regimented writing routine, and seriously look at my editing choices and think through why I’m not satisfied with them. This might mean that I need to overhaul my approach, possibly from the beginning - finding out if developing a more detailed outline, or writing linearly, or something else helps me get where I want to go. I think there are definitely some growing pains involved, and it won’t guarantee that I’ll be happy with my work across the board, because every story is different, but you know what? It’s worth a shot.

Any last thoughts for 2020? Good riddance!

Goals for 2021

Post 1 fic per month, even if it’s just drabble length.

Edit and post telepathy AU, because I put a lot of work into it, dammit!

Try new writing processes and find out if there are adjustments I can find to really help me write my stories and feel more satisfied with the end results.

#ellie writes fic

[lilyoffandoms]

Felix is so pretty 😍 but I'm sad cuz we can't play with this hair ughhhh

Felix is soooo pretty!! Baby is gorgeous and we should all say it. And his hair 😍, anon, let me tell ya how much I love it and want to play with it in canon via this hasty, unedited, self-indulgent (and a bit self-projecting) drabble for ya.

Felix’s head rested in Lucas’ lap where they rested on the couch. Music, that Felix had picked out, playing in the background. Definitely a more upbeat and distracting variety than Lucas would typically pick out this late into the evening but one they were growing used to and even coming to enjoy.

A few files were spread across the coffee table and their laptop was perched precariously on the arm of the couch. An open file resting on the end table as he typed up final reports for the Agency with one hand. They were behind on their last three mission reports and this was not a position they enjoyed being in but distractions had been popping into their life more frequently and they became less concerned about reports and more concerned about kisses.

They had put it off long enough though in favor of those distractions and was now forced to get the work done or face Rebecca empty handed and have to explain why. That was not prospect they fancied having to face. One, because their relationship, while improving, was still slightly strained. Two, because Lucas still didn’t know how Rebecca felt about their relationship with Felix. The less they had to face her questions the better.

So here they sat trying to focus on the work at hand and not their boyfriend smiling up distractingly at them. Lucas removed their left hand from Felix’s grip to close the file and pull the second one open and they began typing anew. Their left hand falling naturally to Felix’s head. Where their fingers rested there. It wasn’t long before they found themselves twisting those textured curls around their finger. Wrapping the coils to mimic what Felix had done with Lucas’ heart.

Felix sighs contentedly at Lucas’s gentle touches. Having his hair touched was not something he’s enjoyed much in this world but the way Lucas’s fingers play with his hair was not something that was uncomfortable. With Lucas it didn’t feel like curious hands, it wasn’t rude, it was never invasive. With Lucas it feels loving, tender. It is a touch desperately wanted and needed by both.

Lucas loves Felix’s hair and they knows they don’t say it enough. They’ve heard people comment on Felix’s hair, calling it wild, unkempt, unruly. But that isn’t what it was at all. It is the dark sea at night. The waves rolling across that magnificent expanse with pure moonlight reflecting brightly where it touched.

The strands coiled and bouncing with every movement was the joyful expression of Felix’s own nature. The delight of happiness and exuberance. And every dark curl was further set apart by the contrast of it against the colorful clothing he wore and the brightness of his smile and the gleam of his golden amber eyes.

#the wayhaven chronicles #felix hauville #felix x detective #my detective #my oc: lucas kingston #anon ask #lily answers #my drabble #anon is right we need lucas to be able to play with felix’s hair in book #it is too beautiful to not want to love on him in every way #black hair is beautiful #yes i really kinda wrote this for me #i hate having my hair touched like its some oddity #i hate having to ‘fix’ it to avoid this or fit it #i only like two people touching it and thats because they see it as wonderful

[empyreanwritings]

Do you do aus? If so I'd love for this to be biker!bucky, but it's totally fine if you don't ^-^ Could you drabble seeing Bucky again after a long time apart, running and jumping into his arms kind of thing? I hope this isn't too detailed or not detailed enough, I'm not too familiar with your preferences 🙈

i love me a good Biker AU! this was a perfect request! thank you, anon 💞

You bounced on the tips of your toes, trying to get a good view over the sea of people in the airport. Bucky was always one to stand out in a crowd, so you're slightly disheartened when you don't see him right away.

You glanced down at the reminder set in your phone. Did you write the time down correctly?

Bucky had been gone for three weeks, two days, and seventeen hours - not that you had been counting or anything. Rebecca had gotten pneumonia and needed help with her kids while she recovered since her husband was away for work, and Bucky was quick to agree.

You missed him more than you cared to admit, but you admired him for dropping everything to help his family out.

People shoved past you in attempt to get to their own loved ones. At one point, an older lady ran over your foot with her suitcase and carried on like she hadn't even noticed.

You thought about chasing after her to give her a piece of your mind when you saw him.

His hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck, a few strands already falling loose around his face. He wore the leather jacket you bought him for Christmas last year, so you couldn't see the tattoos on his deliciously toned arms, but you could see a few popping out from underneath his shirt collar.

You had been so distracted by how blue his eyes looked - as if you forgot or something - that you barely registered he was looking straight at you before he barreled towards you.

You tried to meet him halfway, but he was already scooping you into his arms by the time you took one step.

"Hello, princess," he mumbled against your lips, eagerly waiting for you to kiss him silly already.

"Hello, handsome," you sighed dreamily. "God, I've missed you so much."

#biker!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #empyrean drabbles

[ikhnyshy]

Drabble Request: Shicca; Rebecca running on a treadmill while connected to a heart monitor as part of a stress test, the stress proving too much for Rebecca's heart, resulting in a massive heart attack/cardiac arrest and Shiki must revive her. Feel free to tweak this to your liking.

Sorry for taking so long to publish this. I hope you like the story :)

Request #2Fandom: Edens Zero | Pairing: SHICCA| One-shot |

Heart Attack 

“Is it serious?” Rebecca asked worriedly after watching Sister’s serious countenance for long minutes.

“I don’t understand,” the android replied, shaking her head sideways “It seems like you have a lot of stress,” she continued, and then looked at her with a mocking smile “What could make someone like you worry so much”?“

Rebecca looked away and scratched her cheek as she thought about everything she had lived in those months as a crew member of the Edens Zero. It’s a curious thing that Sister asked that question, she knew very well the number of situations they went through since the ship started working again.

“You have to take more care of yourself. We don’t want you to have a heart attack here on the ship.” She warned her, closing the screens where the different results of her studies were displayed.

"A heart attack?” Exclaimed alarmed the B-Cuber “That sounds serious”

“Don’t get upset or you’ll have one right now.” Ivry laughed amusedly and from one of her drawers she pulled out a small rectangular device that she handed to the blonde.

“Put this on as if it is a watch. Go to the gym and get on one of the treadmills.” Rebecca took the object and placed it as she was indicated, the device turned on and its screen showed her the image of a heart beating “I will see you in half an hour ”

“Gym?” The girl asked puzzled “Do we have that?”

“Well of course,” Said the android smiling ” There are more rooms besides the dining room and the bathrooms, you know? ”

"I admit it, I didn’t explore the entire ship”

“I know where that is, Miss Rebecca” offered Pino, who had witnessed Rebecca’s entire study routine “I can guide you,” 

“Thank you, Pino”

“By the way,” Sister intervened before the other two left. “Try not to talk or stress yourself while doing the exercise or the results ​​will be altered.”

“Okay. Thanks, Sister ”

…

"It’s amazing,” Rebecca exclaimed when they entered the gym. Like everything in the Edens Zero, the training room was very well equipped with advanced and modern technology. Rebecca wondered if Weisz and Hermit were also investigating in that room.

“Rebecca!” She heard her name being called and was surprised to see Shiki on one of the stationary bikes. “Are you gonna do some exercise too?”

“I didn’t expect to find anyone here,” she said absently and smiled at her partner. “Sister sent me to do a study.”

The boy stopped pedaling and followed her around the room with a curious attitude. Rebecca approached the row of treadmills in front of the huge window that opened to a splendid view of the space. The girl admired the starry landscape, thinking it would be very relaxing to walk on those devices enjoying the extension of stars…

“What is that?” She diverted her attention from space and noticed that Shiki was too close, pointing at the gear tied to her wrist. For some reason, the boy’s sudden closeness made her heart jump and the object gave a short squeak.

“Sister gave it to me,” she replied, surprised by the sudden noise. “It’s to do some studies”

“Studies?” He asked, inclining his head. “What’s that?”

“Haven’t you had your routine examination?” She asked worriedly.

“Not that I remember” Shiki shrugged dismissing the issue “What do you have to do?”

Rebecca climbed on the treadmill and started to walk. The action was as relaxing as she had expected. On her wrist, the device began to collect the data by changing the heart diagram to one of an irregular wave that followed the rhythm of her heartbeats …

“I just have to walk” She answered the previous question and watched through the huge window, admiring the progression of the ship through space. If she ignored the gym environment, walking while watching the stars felt as if she were floating in the space surrounded by the huge Sakura cosmos.

“Do you know what would be fantastic?” Shiki’s voice distracted her again, Rebecca turned her gaze to her partner who was smiling immensely. Again the device emitted a high pitched sound, a little longer than the previous one.

“Master Shiki” Pino intervened shyly “Miss Rebecca can’t speak while doing the exercise”

“Uh?” Shiki watched the little android “Why not?”

“The results could be altered if she is stressed”

But Rebecca already felt somewhat stressed, or at least her heart seemed anxious. Pino explained to the Demon King the conditions Sister had given for the study, while she tried to control her suddenly rapid heartbeat.

“If she gets too stressed, she could have a heart attack,” Pino finished raising one of her little fingers to emphasize her last sentence. Shiki’s expression darkened and he turned his head to look at his friend. Rivers of tears began to leave his eyes and a shriek of anguish escaped his lips …

“Noooo! Don’t stress, Rebecca! “He whined outrageously. "I don’t want to lose my friend! ”

Rebecca smiled kindly, moved by her partner’s reaction. Seeing him so distraught by a possibility as remote as a heart attack seemed kind of tender.

She felt a pleasant warmth that spread across her chest, but before she could say anything to calm Shiki, that same warm feeling seemed to squeeze her heart.

A stabbing pain attacked her from the chest, a violent and unexpected oppression that caused her to lose control of her actions. She stopped walking, paralyzed by the affliction in her chest, the movement of the treadmill made her lose her balance and the last thing she knew was the sensation of falling through a deep dark hole…

…

Instinct kicked immediately and Shiki managed to catch her before Rebecca fell to the ground and hurt herself.

But his intuition did not help him at that moment, despair began to invade him, unsure of what to do to help his friend. Pino must have noticed his nervous breakdown because the little android acted quickly and the Demon King could not be more grateful for her presence at that moment…

“Master, I downloaded information about heart attacks,” the little robot said, sounding confident, but there was still some concern on her face. “You must lay Rebecca on the floor and we must apply CPR immediately.”

“CPR? What is that? ”He was still scared, his hands shaking and tears threatening to sprout, but Shiki knew it wasn’t time for that, he had to do CRP, CPR or whatever its name was.

“It’s a procedure,” the android replied simply and unbuttoned Rebecca’s shirt with a quick movement. “I am too little to do it, master. You must do it ”

“Just tell me what to do”

Pino explained patiently that he had to put his hands together on the girl’s chest and press quickly and hard repeatedly.

Shiki obeyed the instructions. He watched his friend’s face, hoping to see signs of conscience, but she remained unchanged since falling from the treadmill. He repeated the procedure, his despair increasing with each pressure that didn’t wake her up.

“You’re doing well,” the droid said, noticing the anguish that invaded him, but Shiki couldn’t calm down despite her words. Repeated pressures were depleting him and the lack of results made him desperate. Time seemed to pass slowly and quickly at unbearable vertigo.

“Help!” He finally shouted as he continued with the repetitions on Rebecca’s chest. “Pino, call the others, please,” he begged, his voice dyed in despair. “I need help”

Shiki needed the rest of his friends, he needed to have them there, helping Rebecca. He didn’t understand what was happening or what he was doing. The only thing Shiki knew at the moment was that he had his friend in trouble and he couldn’t help her.

Despair brought impotence and the Demon King was about to lose the battle against an invisible enemy he could not face with his Ether Gear. He stopped doing compressions and lowered his head to cradle it between her friend’s breasts.

“Shiki?” Rebecca’s weak voice made him raise his head in a swift movement. “What happened?”

“Rebecca!” He exclaimed joyfully and threw himself on her to hug her, bursting with happiness at seeing her awake.

“Master, you have to be more careful” He heard Pino say, but Shiki couldn’t help it. He had been so worried that his friend… Rebecca wouldn’t wake up.

“Hey! Don���t do that!” The girl complained when the Demon King sank his face between her breasts again, “Shiki! ” She started pushing him away from her, embarrassed by a position so intimate that didn’t seem to bother the boy at all.

"I was so worried,” he said, tears falling on his partner’s blue bra. “I didn’t know what to do.” Rebecca stopped pushing him. She remained still and tense for a few moments and then relaxed, embracing her partner, returning the affectionate gesture he gave her.

“I’m fine, Shiki,” she said kindly and he clung even more to her waist.

“When I said you shouldn’t stress…” Sister’s voice flooded the silent atmosphere of the gym. Shiki raised his head to see the android entering the room followed by Weisz and Homura  “… I didn’t expect you would look for this kind of relaxation" Shiki noticed that Rebecca’s cheeks turned exaggeratedly red, the boy inclined his head uncertain of why she reacted like this “We must admit that it is a very effective method to combat stress”

Rebecca covered her chest by closing her shirt quickly. Weisz already had a perverted smile on his face and his eyes kept looking at the blonde girl’s shirt.

“I can also help you relax, Rebecca” He volunteered, but only received an elbow in the stomach, courtesy of Sister.

“It seems an interesting method,” Homura commented quietly, but everyone heard her perfectly.

“Miss Rebecca had a heart attack.” Pino informed Sister “Master Shiki helped her by applying CPR”

“Very good, Demon King” Congratulated the android nurse of the ship “I see you have proceeded efficiently” Sister brought her hands to her hips and smiled mockingly “You can be our honorary nurse”

“I want to be an honorary nurse too!” Weisz offered only to receive another nudge.

Rebecca removed the watch-shaped device from her wrist and handed it to Sister. The android looked at the object seriously and nodded.

“I will examine the study’s data,” she said and then looked discreetly at Shiki. “Meanwhile, you can continue with your own methods … I think they will be more effective.”

“Can you stop that? It is not what you believe! Nothing happened!”

While Sister and Weisz continued to tease Rebecca with their comments, Shiki watched his partner seriously. The fright he suffered didn’t let him relax with his companions, worry still tormented him. Staring at Rebecca, with his characteristic determination, the Demon King promised himself that he would protect his friend from all the threats that might affect her, both the enemies he has to face with his fists and any other condition that might exist.

He would be with her regardless of anything and be her unconditional protector.

Thanks for reading!

Special thanks to @alelysmar83 who beta read this story both in English and Spanish. Thank you!!!!

#Fanfic #ShiCCa #Edens Zero #Edens Zero Fanfic #Request #Rebecca #shiki granbell