· a/n: super quick one I wrote in thirty minutes for the sake of getting another fictober prompt done and up! just for fun, really.
· DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.
· prompt: (#28)"Do I have to do everything here?"
· warnings: light squabbling, light language, you might punch me for the ship hate in this
· word count: 818
You tapped your pencil impatiently against the hardbound textbook you had plopped open in your lap. Your eyes skimmed over passages and figures quickly and with growing impatience as the giggles of two teenage buffoons serenaded your homework-oriented mindset. Glancing up, you found both Peter and Ned sitting on the bottom bunk of Peter's bed and leaned over a laptop, gushing about the newest episode of The Mandalorian, which they had yet to watch. As much as you loved the show and wanted to catch up on the latest leaks, you wanted nothing more than to be done with this ridiculous last-minute group project your Physics teacher had assigned you all.
Frustrated, you slid your textbook into the floor and flicked Peter on the shin to gain his attention. "Do I have to do everything here?"
Ned leaned away from Peter and offered you an apologetic, lopsided smile. "Sorry, (Y/n), it's just so exciting! I can't believe Ahsoka Tano is going to be fully-fleshed in all her live-action glory! It's going to be amazing. I'm so in love with her already."
"Whoa, whoa, dude," – Peter thumped Ned on the leg, threatening him playfully – "I already called dibs."
"As if Ahsoka Tano, the most badass character to ever come out of the Star Wars universe, would ever pick one of you two over Ewan McGregor. Or Pedro Pascal in Mandalorian armor."
"Ouch," Ned whimpered.
"Geez, (Y/n), that one hurt!" Peter exclaimed with a grin, nudging you with his foot.
Ned's brows drew together and he cocked his face to the side in that funny way, as if he was about to deal a hefty burn. "Whoa, wait, did you just ship Obi-Wan Kenobi and Ahsoka Tano? 'Cause that's kind of messed up. I mean, I know he's hot and all, but-"
"Ewww, you did! You totally just did!"
You groaned, stretching your legs out onto the carpet in a feigned tantrum of exhaustion. "You guys know what I meant! I do not ship them! There's not even a ship name for them because it's the worst possible option for a ship."
"So you've done the research?" Peter prodded, baiting your vicious sarcasm.
"Ehh, ser you'rve dern ther research?" You mocked his voice shrilly, channeling your best Lore Soong impression. "No, you idiot, I just spend enough time on Tumblr to see ship names float around a thousand times before I even blink."
"I mean, what kind of ship are we talking about, though? Because actually, if you think about it, they've got sort of a nice father-daughter or wise-uncle-and-spunky-niece thing going."
"Okay, no, we're not going down that rabbit hole," you tucked your legs back over each other and gestured to the mess of textbooks, papers, and project parts littering the bedroom floor, "Let's hurry up and get this done and then we can binge-watch the whole thing."
Peter slid off his mattress and plopped himself next to you on the floor, reaching over your lap and bring his shoulder intentionally close to yours. He grabbed your pencil pouch rather than his own that lay by his feet. You caught his grin as he did so, returning it with your own blushful smile. It was something he always did, especially during class. You supposed he liked borrowing your supplies and knick-knacks in the same way you enjoyed stealing his sweatshirts.
Ned stood from the bed, closing his laptop, and sat down in the black swivel chair by Peter's desk. He returned to his designated task of gluing the pieces of your jet propulsion prototype for a few moments while you and Peter compared notes and started mocking up the explanatory essay that would detail the process of your group's idea. It was just as you both got into a good rhythm of concentration when Ned let out a sharp gasp and turned back around to face you.
"Guys, I just realized something," he whispered in awe, the glue gun poised in one hand and the metal plate in the other.
"What?" Peter asked.
"Since Anakin and the Child were born around roughly the same time, what if the Jedi Council chose the wrong one when they were looking for the Chosen One? What if Baby Yoda was supposed to bring balance to the Force instead of Anakin? And the entire franchise was the result of misidentification?"
"Ned!" You both exclaimed in unison, drawing his name out. Something about that felt very much like a spoiler – even if there was no confirmation about it publicly. It was the best theory you'd heard so far about the Child's purpose, but there would be a very temperamental Physics teacher with a bright red pen at his desk tomorrow waiting for procrastinating nerds like yourselves to come in with a half-completed project. The theories and fangirling would have to wait – at least for another hour until Aunt May would undoubtedly interrupt with snacks.

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