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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 3 years

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Grow Old With You - Reykha’s Birth

IF YOU ONCE READ THIS FIC AND WANT SOME CLOSURE HERE IS A LINK FOR YOU/OR IF YOU’RE WONDERING WHERE THE HECK THE REST OF THIS FIC IS IT IS EXPLAINED HERE

Summary: lol this is the last thing I wrote for Grow Old With You/Build a Home With You. I felt y’all deserved to read it cause I do really like how it turned out. Also Ara and Din are space MILF and DILF that deserve the world.

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x OFC (Ara Obagh)

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: fairly graphic depictions of birth and labor, major fluff, a lot of feels, Ara’s glorious return

With one hand, Ara gripped a rung of the ladder while the other tried to soothe the underside of her belly as another spasm ripped across her abdomen. It was the worst pain she had ever felt. She had been stabbed, shot, and tortured. But nothing compared to this. Her lower back now throbbed. The weight, and pressure of the baby against her pelvis nearly made her knees buckle. Her mouth opened in a silent groan as the pain peaked, her belly stiffening in her hand, and then it slowly began to fade.

For a moment, she believed it was over. The doctor had warned against false pains that could be mistaken for real labor. Something similar happened at the beach just a few days earlier. She hoped that was what it was. Ara wanted to have the baby back home on Naboo. In the solace of her own bed. Not on the Razor Crest, a cold ship that left much to be desired when it came to comfort.

But then she felt a soft pop between her legs. Like a balloon filled with too much air. Then a sudden gush of liquid between her legs. Did I just wet myself? Ara thought. That would be an embarrassing thing to have to explain to Din and Cara when they got back. But when she looked down at the floor to the small puddle she now stood in, her eyes widened at the sight. There was a tiny amount of blood mixed in with the clear fluid.

“Oh no,” Ara whispered.

Her water just broke. On the Razor Crest. On Denon of all places.

The next contraction hit about thirty minutes later. She hadn’t moved from her spot in front of the ladder, afraid that would make the now constant ache even worse. Pain, like an iron belt wrapped around her middle, coursed through her stomach and into her spine. Ara whimpered as she swayed back and forth, her free hand rubbing soothing circles into her abdomen. Hot tears, which she felt betrayed by, built up in the corners of her eyes and threatened to fall. She had felt pain before. She had been through worse. But Maker this kriffing hurt and she had no idea when Din was going to be back. And the more she thought about that, the more her tears blurred her vision and her lip began to quiver. She didn’t want to go through this alone. What if something went wrong? What if the baby was breach or something worse? Ara rested her forehead against the cool metal of the ladder as her tears finally fell.

“Just a little bit longer, fierce girl,” she whispered, voice trembling, “Please.”

Ten minutes. Another contraction. They were getting closer together and the pain was getting worse. Both hands on the ladder, Ara breathed through it as Vaisha had told her to do. But she couldn’t stop the choked sob that broke past her lips. Din should be there. Breathing with her and massaging her back to help relieve the pain. He should be whispering encouragements in her ear. But he wasn’t. She prayed that he would be back soon, even as she gathered all her courage and moved her hand between her legs.

She was about halfway dilated. It was almost time.

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“I get that you wanna go in there blaster first — but we need a plan,” Cara argued as they walked back to where the Crest had been parked.

“Fine,” Din relented, feeling agitated, “Make a plan. Attack his safehouse first thing in the morning.”

Cara agreed with a slight nod of her head as they approached the Crest. Din pulled the comlink from his belt and held it up to his helmet. “Ara, we’re back. Release the ground security protocols.”

Nothing. Complete and deafening silence.

Din felt panic, like a sudden harpoon through his chest. He took a deep breath to calm himself. Maybe she was asleep. Or perhaps the comlink ran out of batteries. He could always just pound on the ramp if all else failed. She was fine. Perfectly fine.

He repeated, quieter, his voice strained, “Ara?”

The Crest hissed to life as the ramp popped open and then slowly lowered. Din heaved a sigh of relief as Cara slapped him on the back. She knew everything was fine. Ara was way too capable, even when she was about to have a baby, to let something happen to her. But then they both got a good look at Ara standing at the top of the ramp. She was soaked in sweat. Her cheeks red. She stood hunched over, her knees buckled, one hand against the wall and the other clutching her stomach. Tears had stained her cheeks. Her entire form flinched as her face crumpled in pain. The concave of her back bending even further.

Then she looked up at them, desperate and in agony before whimpering, “Din…”

Cara had seen the Mandalorian move quickly. It always impressed her how hard he could haul ass with all that armor on. But in this instance, he truly surprised her with how swiftly he moved. He was up the ramp and inside the Crest within seconds. One arm supporting Ara’s back while the other wrapped around her middle to keep her upright. Cara stared for only a moment longer than either of the Mandalorians liked.

“Dune!” he shouted, “Get in here!”

She quickly did as she was told. Scrambling up the ramp and it was immediately closed behind her.

“What’s happening?” Cara asked, voice edging on panicked. A new emotion for her. Stars, is she dying?

“Baby…” Ara struggled to answer, grunting in pain and clutching at her stomach, “The baby…”

Oh shit, Cara thought, eyes gone wide.

Ara panted, tears of sweet relief now flowing down her face, as Din lowered her slowly to the floor. Back leaned against the now-closed ramp and her knees bent. The pain was nearing on constant now. She felt like she was going to vomit or pass out because of it. Din quickly whipped his cape off his shoulders and threw it down on the floor. Followed by his gloves. Then he started working on getting his vambraces off, and it was only then that he noticed Cara still standing there. Staring at Ara like she was about to explode.

“Can I…Help?” the ex-shock trooper asked unsurely, eyes still trained on Ara who threw her head back against the wall and groaned loudly in pain.

“No.” Din grunted as he finally pulled one vambrace away from his arm. His fingers fumbled and shook as he began working on the other one. “Get into the cockpit and set course for Naboo.”

“Mando, you can’t be serious — ?”

“Just do it!” he shouted roughly, shocking even Cara with his harsh and frantic tone, “And stay up there till I say.”

As soon as he heard the hatch up into the cockpit slide shut behind Cara, Din ripped his helmet from his head and took in a massive lungful of air. His entire body seemed to shake as an autumn leaf in the breeze, ready to break free from its father branch and fall to the ground in silence. Did this have to happen now? Right now? When he was so close to getting Gideon and ridding them of their fears for good? Maker, he wasn’t ready. He thought he would have more time to prepare for this. To prepare for helping Ara, for helping the baby, for being the firm foundation that both of them needed right now. He worked, hands trembling, on getting at least the top half of his armor removed. The first time he held his Creed-born child, he would not be covered in the armor he showed the world. He would be just himself. What if he did something wrong? He had gone over the procedure a million times with the doctor and had bothered Vaisha with far too many questions. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to be there for Ara. He wanted her to be comfortable. And Maker he really wished they were not on the Razor Crest, on some foreign planet where a man who wanted them dead was located. This was not like anything he had pictured.

Fear, as worm in his brain, wiggled and took hold of him. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t do this. He needed more time.

“I-I’m sorry,” Ara panted from behind him, “But I — mmm — I knew this would happen.”

The next contraction crescendoed and Ara’s steadily increasing pants for breath turned into a scream. Throat exposed and a vein popping out on her forehead as her sweaty palms scrambled for purchase. Din turned immediately and knelt down before her on his knees, taking her hands in his and letting her squeeze till his own mouth dropped open in pain. Her screams reduced to panted groans and her grip on him relented as the contraction subsided. But the pain never fully went away, only became less intense.

He looked deep into her face. That beautiful face that still threw him into a state of shock and awe. Covered in a layer of sweat, red-cheeked, pinched in agony, and she still looked like the sun-rise. Constant and devastating in its beauty. It didn’t matter that Din wasn’t ready. It didn’t matter that Ara wasn’t ready. This baby was coming. The circumstances were not going to change. Ara needed him. The baby needed him. And he was always going to be there for them. No matter what.

It was on this ship that they were delivered from a burning Mandalore. And it seemed that on that same ship the next generation of a planet burned would be born.

“How far apart are they?” he asked as he let go of her hands and flexed his fingers.

“Three minutes — I-I think — Maker, I don’t know,” she whimpered.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Din reassured, reaching up and unwinding her scarf from her head. Her hair was drenched in sweat. But she needed to be fully uncovered when the baby was born. “Just take deep breaths. Just like that. You’re doing great.”

“Did you — Did you find Gideon?”

Of course, she would still be thinking about that at a time like this.

He debated, for an instant, if he should lie and tell her that Cara’s information had been wrong. But he always had been a terrible liar. Or Ara had always had a way of seeing right through him to the truth.

He sighed, his chin dropped to his chest before mumbling, “Yeah.”

He lifted his head just in time to see guilt take over her face and a fresh wave of tears build up in her eyes. They wouldn’t be able to attack his safe house now. Din wouldn’t stand being parted from her or the baby once she was born. And Cara couldn’t take down that squadron by herself. They could wait a few weeks and come back, but by then Gideon might move to a different safe house. Who knew what kind of rotations he and the other wanted Imperial warlords had going on. And as each of them felt the familiar pull of takeoff, they knew Gideon was slipping through their fingers once more.

Ara’s lip had begun to bleed with the abuse her teeth had been putting it through. She tasted copper in her mouth as she let go and whispered, “M’sorry.”

With a shake of his head, Din reached out and pressed his thumb flat into her chin. Nothing to apologize for.

He then pulled down her underwear and checked how far along into labor she was. “You’re almost completely dilated. I’ll go get the supplies.”

Ara didn’t want him to leave her. She whimpered slightly as he got up from the floor and made his way into the refresher. He got a few towels and a bowl of hot water. In this moment alone, he paused. Turned to the west on instinct, he began to pray. Ara always had been better at it than he was. But right now, she needed his prayers more than ever. So he tried to remember the words.

Protect my child whose name I’ve yet to know as mine, but so desperately want to. If I must die in order for that to happen, let it be. Protect Ara, who is one with me when together or parted. By the Star, you created all, and by it, you shall destroy. And by the Star, you will give us the strength to deliver this child into the world. Please…Keep them safe. I can’t lose them.

A peace that he would never be able to bring himself washed over him as he opened his eyes. Another scream echoed through the Razor Crest. And Din, with this newfound peace and confidence, stepped out of the refresher with the needed supplies. A bowl of warm water. A few towels. The sheers from the medpack.

He quickly kneeled back down between Ara’s bent legs.

The legends say that when a warrior died honorably in battle, paint across his helmet and blood upon his chest plate, it was the closest anyone could get to holding the Maker’s star in their hands. To holding the greatest power, the greatest glory, and the greatest light in their mortal grasp. But when that baby slipped from Ara and into Din’s steady, awaiting hands — screaming and squirming and covered in fluids — the legends were proven wrong.

All of time seemed to stop. The entire universe tilting it’s chin to get a better look at the life that had just been born. To hear the joyous, in-awe laugh that bubbled from Din’s throat.

“Ara,” he whispered, cradling the tiny body in his much larger hands, “It’s a girl.”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the babe in his hands. In those sinner’s hands that had caused so much destruction. And yet he had made this most precious thing, with Ara, with the breath of his life. This perfect, fragile thing that all at once told him that life was so fleeting and that life was so very beautiful. He didn’t need the warrior. He didn’t need battle paint on his helmet. He didn’t need honorable death to hold a piece of the heavens in his grasp. She was right there. Wiggling and screaming at him for being born.

Tears, testaments to his absolute joy and rapture, spilled from his eyes without his permission. But he wasn’t going to berate them or curse them. As he had his entire life. He welcomed them with open arms.

Ara finally broke him from his revere with her panted reply, “A girl?”

Din looked up into his wife’s face and laughed again. A quiet, breathless thing as he pushed himself up and placed the wailing baby in her arms. She looked exhausted, pale, but happy. Tears fell from her eyes as well. Ara cradled the baby in her arms and laughed softly. She was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

A tuft of dark hair on her head. A small, squished face that was angry red. But her screams turned slowly to whimpers, and then faded out completely in her mother’s arms. Ara reached up a weary finger and brushed a knuckle over her soft cheek.

The air had suddenly become thick as the baby slowly opened her eyes for the first time. Ara’s ragged breaths seemed far too loud in her uncovered ears. But the air became caught in her throat when the baby looked into her eyes for the first time. Dark and endless, just like her parents.

So this was what it was like to be seen. To be really seen by someone else.

“Hello, my fierce girl,” Ara whispered, voice horse even at such a volume, “I know your name as my child — Reykha.”

Din made quick work of snipping the umbilical cord and cleaning the baby off with the warm water.

“Mm — Din,” Ara grunted while he cleaned the fussy baby.

He looked over his shoulder to see her face pinched in pain. Legs tucked back up against her chest with her hands.

“Afterbirth?” he questioned, laying Reykha down on a towel and drying her off.

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed back.

The pain wasn’t as intense, but it still kriffing hurt. And she was tired. So very tired.

“Shit — okay.”

Din couldn’t find the blanket they had packed. He could have sworn he had grabbed it from the baby’s room before they left. And he could have sworn he had dropped it down to the floor along with the rest of the birthing supplies. But the blanket Yasima had gifted to Ara, with their signet stitched into the soft fabric, was nowhere in sight. Din cursed under his breath as he looked back over at his wife. Her face pinched in pain and resisting the urge to push again. He really did not want to clean her placenta up off the floor. But Reykha needed to be wrapped up in something to keep her warm. But what? He forgot the damn blanket and Ara was never going to let him hear the end of it —

There. His cape balled up in the corner. That would do for now. He quickly snatched it from the floor and swaddled the baby up in it. Then, cradling the baby in one arm, he pushed the empty bowl he had grabbed between Ara’s legs just in time.

“You forgot the blanket didn’t you?” she panted as she let her legs fall back down to the floor.

“Shut up,” he grumbled lightly, taking the bowl in his free hand and sliding it across the floor towards the refresher.

Then she got a look at them. Unannounced tears pricked at her eyes. Little Reykha, bundled in her father’s cape and tucked into the crook of his elbow. Safe, fast asleep, not even five minutes old. Din, half of his armor tossed carelessly onto the floor, hair disheveled, and sweat sheening on his brow. Safe, tired, a smile quirking his lips and creating a singular dimple in his cheek. Good Maker, he’s beautiful. Ara’s mind had gone blank of anything else in the universe. Her heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to go at lightspeed or stop altogether. She couldn’t help but take in the little scar across the bridge of his nose, the one on his top lip. Evidence of years of fighting, of resentment, of a life that felt like a deep and distant dream.

After all this time. After all the waiting. After the heartache of losing Mandalore, the rage of being with Ran and his crew, the monotony and restlessness of their years with the Guild, the fear and running from the remains of the Empire. All of it was leading up to this. Kha’s last command, last request on a dying Mandalore — You must carry us with you always — and you must keep Mandalore alive through the warriors you will raise — she waited thirty years for them to fulfill their vow. And now she could march beside her fellow warriors in peace. And Ara could feel it, feel that eternal peace wash over her as Din sat down beside her and placed Reykha into her arms.

“I wish the kid was here,” Ara commented as she leaned into Din’s shoulder.

“Me too,” he whispered back, unable to look away from the little pink face poking out of his cape, “But we’ll be home in a few hours.”

“Maker, I hope he likes her.”

“He will. We’ve been talking about it.”

Ara looked over at him with an incredulous smile. “You have?”

“Mm,” Din grunted, reaching out and tracing his fingers over Reykha’s hairline, “How he’ll be a big brother. The responsibility — the care. How she’ll need a lot of your attention.”

Ara stared at him a moment. At the way his kind, warm, brown eyes were transfixed by the babe in her arms. At the soft smile adorning his hard features. At the crook of his nose. At the soft tumble of his hair. At the love and peace and warmth that seemed to radiate off of him.

In Mando’a there are two words for breath. One of them is kar’am. This word translates into Basic as the literal air inside a being’s lungs. The breath of life. The thing that can get knocked out of someone during a fight or stolen from them in a moment of emotion. The other word for breath is haal. This word has no direct translation. A rough sort of definition is that haal is the thing that gives you a reason to breathe. The thing, beyond air, beyond oxygen, that gives one meaning and gives one a reason to keep going. The life-force, the light, the purpose for drawing air into your lungs. Even to say the word, haal, it sounds like an exhale. A declaration that what one is calling their breath owns it.

“Kiss me,” Ara whispered softly, too softly, “Ner haal.”

Din looked up at her with raised brows and wide eyes. But then his every feature softened. He was her reason to keep going. The man who had given her everything she had ever desired. Who had painted the picture of their lives with her at the center of it. Who worked to the point of breaking his back nearly every single day. A man who lost everything and now had all that he had ever desired. The love of his life at his side. A Foundling and a Creed-born child of his own. A house with transparisteel hanging above the door and his armor stowed away in a shed. He was the very breath inside her lungs. Her very reason for living.

With a tender hand, Din reached out and cupped her cheek in his calloused hand. He marveled in the way she leaned into his touch. Then he kissed her. Slanting his lips against her own and molding his mouth into her own softly, reverently, slowly. He pulled away just enough to whisper back to her, ner haal, letting his breath mingle with her own. Tying them together like the breeze through forest branches.

A breath of life shared between them.

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 3 years

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Hey, It’s Really Ro. I promise.

I had a blog on here under the username @romanticgumchewer-deactivated20 . I went by Ro. I wrote fanfics for Mando and Oberyn Martell called Grow Old With You, Reasons Wicked and Divine, and Build a Home With You. I came up with characters named Ara Obagh and Aliana Tyrell (the baddest bitches to ever live). I came up with a ton of Mandalorian culture cause I didn’t feel like looking anything up. Spice fruit, headscarves, marriage traditions, foundling adoption process, and a bunch of other stuff. Yeah. That me.

Anyway, I’m only hopping on here for a quick minute to clear some stuff up on why I left and give some closure on Build a Home With You.

So, I deleted my tumblr first because of the toxic environment. The constant pressure to put out content. The fact that if your story isn’t a reader insert or super smutty it isn’t going to get read. I just got fed up after a while and deleted. I went solely to AO3 for a while, but everything just felt wrong. I was bored with what I was writing, I didn’t like anything I was writing, and I just didn’t feel good about any of it (or anything, for that matter, I hit a major depressive episode, y’all.). I didn’t want to disappoint anyone or make people feel like I was ignoring them, so I just deleted my AO3 as well. I still love Ara and Din and the story I didn’t complete, but I just was not feeling it anymore.

EDIT: Let me make this clear. I never wanted to include smut in anything that I wrote. I’ve struggled with the fact that I may be Asexual for years (the coming out process is hard y’all). But because I was reading what others wrote before I put out any of my own stuff, I felt like I HAD to include smut in order for the things I wrote to be read. And maybe that means I was writing this for the wrong reasons. But I felt that the story I wrote and the character I created was good and DESERVED to be read by people who like the Mandalorian. But it just....over time more and more it became something I was no longer proud of or felt was mine. If that makes sense?

But then I got an idea. An original story idea in my own world that I created that includes versions of the OCs I made for these stories. Versions of Ara, Aliana, Din, and Oberyn. I’ve never felt this much passion for a story before and it is going really well so far. I’ve always wanted to write for a living, to have something of mine published and in book stores. And I feel like this story could take me there. And if it does get there, if y’all would be kind enough NOT to mention that it was once fanfic that would be great. Please and thank you.

So now for some closure, shall we? Where I left off Build a Home With You Ara is pregnant, they live on Naboo as farmers, and Cara has just found Moff Gideon hiding out on Denon.

They go after Gideon, Ara comes long even though she is VERY pregnant. They find him, but before they can get him Ara gives birth on the Razor Crest. To a little girl named Reykha (I actually have the birth scene written out. Let me know if y’all want me to post that or not.) They fly back to Naboo and live a pretty chill life under the radar for several years. It’s not until Reykha is seven that Moff Gideon finally finds them on Naboo, but he discovers that Reykha is stronger in the force than baby yoda (freaking GROGU). So he stages an attack on the farm, Ara and Din are fighting like crazy while Grogu and Reykha are hiding in their house with Rahto. But when the fighting is over, the farm wins OBVIOUSLY, they have everyone in cuffs including Gideon. But when Ara goes to get the kids: Rahto is badly injured, Grogu is in hiding, and Reykha is gone. She storms back out of the house and tells Din Reykha is gone. Gideon overhears and laughs, looks to the sky and they see one Imperial ship flying away. They know exactly what this means. Reykha has been taken by the Empire. So in a fit of pure rage, Ara takes the black saber from Gideon (which she also fought him while he weilded against her #badass) and interrogates him with it. Asking where they took her daughter, but he never gives it away. She ends up cutting his head off with the saber. So for the next….13 or so years, they’re flying literally all over the universe trying to find her (#heartwrenching). They’ve basically given up hope, when they run into Maz again, who tells them of a brown-eyed girl she met named Rey who was strong in the force. They go searching for this Rey. But it’s not until they get recruited by the Resistance to fight against the Final Order, the battle is won, and they’ve landed back on that jungle planet at the end of the Rise of Skywalker that they finally find this Rey. Gosh, I was probably gonna cry while writing this. They step out of the Crest, they see a girl with dark brown hair hugging two men. The girl turns, sensing their presence. Ara and Din are so hesitant, so unsure. They approach the girl who begins to cry but does not know why. “Reykha?” Ara whispers, and reaches out to touch her cheek. When she does, all of Rey’s true memories come back to her, not the ones planted in her brain by Palpatine. “Mama?” Rey whispers just before the women meet in a crushing embrace. I liked to think that Din would remove his helmet in this moment, just so he could see his daughter’s face for the first time in 13 years unfiltered. And that Creed no longer matters to him. She is safe, she is back with them, he is finally free to just be Din without being the Mandalorian. So Rey hugs Din too cause that’s freaking PAPA right there BOY.

Rey FUCKING DJARIN (Obagh technically but who cares?) Y’ALL

And for an epilogue I was going to have Rey be with….some ambiguous character that was up to interpretation (could be Finn, Poe, Rose, some other person of the reader’s choice). They’re back on the farm on Naboo where Ara and Din have lived a long good life. In the end, Rahto gave them the farm as an inheritance. ANYWAY she’s on the farm with this person and Grogu obviously and…..well they’re spreading Ara’s ashes on Danilah Pond. Din has already passed at this point. They both lived to a ripe old age. And that’s how it ends. Rey with her own family living on the Naboo farm, taking care of Grogu now, training him and Finn as a Jedi, and so on and so forth.

The end.

So uh…...I guess if y’all got questions just message me, send me an anon, an ask, whatever. I love you and I miss you all.

@harleyamidala @leo-moon @adikaofmandalore @thethoughtsfromthreeam @bbygrgu @uncomicalhumour (I only tagged the people I used to talk to a lot on here......sorry if I missed anyone it’s been a while.)

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 3 years

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My Greatest Works of the Past Year: The Tag Game

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose five favorite works you created in the past year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in the past year. Tag as many artists/writers/etc. as you want so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Thank you very much for the tag @little-specificity

Reasons Wicked and Divine (Game of Thrones, Oberyn/OFC)

Summary: Oberyn Martell and Aliana Tyrell are long-lost lovers brought back together.

Paragraph: “I understand completely, Lord Tywin.” While the Hand began to simmer in his seat, Aliana Tyrell remained calm, expression stoic but her tone light. She knew what he was trying to do. Tywin had trained Cersei well in the art of speaking with one’s enemies. “Your respect for me is naught, therefore my respect for you is naught. You intend to abuse my house for your own gain — to pride yourself as the one to save the Seven Kingdoms from starvation. Yet, it seems, you do not understand who has given you that right of pride. You think my father is the one to persuade, to grant positions of power and mold to your own liking. My father is an idiot. A bumbling, nervous wreck since my mother’s passing. I would think, that a man such as yourself, would recognize who holds real power — and would know when to respect it.”

This story has since been deleted because it actually inspired an original work! But I'm really proud of how this fic turned out in the end, and people's responses to it were so lovely.

Build a Home With You (The Mandalorian, Din Djarin x OFC)

Summary: After the events of saving Sweet Baby Boy from Moff Gideon, Din Djarin and Ara Obagh escape to live out their days on Naboo.

Paragraph: Home — home — home a voice now screamed as she looked out over the water. Ara could feel it. The water as it came up and over her face while she and her mother played in the waves. Smiles wide and laughs echoing across the expanse. How she longed to know that woman she only saw in a half-forgotten memory. How she longed for her children to know that woman. She could feel it. The water as it came down over the top of her head while her mother gave her her first bath in years. Lips stern and love radiating from every tender touch. How she longed to know that woman who saved her, who was taken from her before she was ready. How she longed for her children to know that woman.Yet it was only here that she could feel any semblance of them. Of their motherly encouragement. Of their hope. Of their peace. Of their dreams planted like seeds against these sandy shores.

This fic has also since been deleted....but that is because this fic ALSO inspired an original work (same one as the fic previous on this list). Kinda just mashed the two things together to make one thing that I hope is at least partially good. Grow Old With You/Build a Home With You was my magnum opus, in my own personal opinion. I worked so hard on it....But I ended up getting very discouraged due to the lack of comments/reblogs.

Someone In Brooklyn Misses You (MCU, Bucky Barnes x OFC)

Summary: Bucky Barnes and Rose Rigby have been in love for as long as they can remember. But after being separated by lifetimes, what happens when they're brought back together again and one of them can't remember the other?

Paragraph: The first thing the little boy noticed was that her face was dirty. Like she had been crying while playing in the dirt and rubbed her hands on her face. Which was the truth. There weren’t many kids who lived on his street, so when he heard that the new neighbors had a daughter his age, he was impatient to get a look. The summer break from school had just started and he was rather looking forward to having someone other than his sister to play with.

This is a fic I've been reworking and rewriting since 2014! And I finally feel confident enough to post it!

Okay, so I'm only gonna do three instead of five. Sorry rules of the tag game but.....I do what I want. All the other fics I've written this year are things that I honestly am just doing for fun and as writing practice for working on my own original pieces. Maybe one day I'll have enough confidence to talk about those original works on here.

No pressure tags friends just know I love ya. @clydesducktape @thethoughtsfromthreeam

#tag game #here's some of my writing #mmmmmmmm bye

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