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newtkive · 1 year ago

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confectionary clash - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)

summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!

as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.

that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.

carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.

on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it’s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.

richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.

richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.

now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.

it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.

except on days like this.

you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.

upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.

“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.

you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.

“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.

“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.

“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.

a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.

as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.

richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.

a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.

“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.

in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.

"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.

"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.

“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.

“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.

your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.

richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.

richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.

“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.

richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.

“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.

however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.

with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.

outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.

the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.

turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.

throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.

“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”

“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“

“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”

“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.

carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”

“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”

an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”

“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.

“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.

you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind

“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.

a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.

the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.

“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”

“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.

your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.

carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.

“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.

“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.

“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.

nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.

it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.

you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.

with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.

you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”

the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.

thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.

“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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ask-spiderpool · 9 months ago

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Hey mod, are you okay? It’s been a while since you posted (no judgement!) and I just wanted to see if something was wrong. Love you and I hope you stay strong🫶🏼

Bless you anon! I appreciate you checking in! I don't post a lot of personal updates here, but I have been going through the wringer lately... hough.

Lately I've been battling with anxiety, you know, same as everyone. It's kind of made things that I used to enjoy kind of stressful for me. Everything becomes stressful for me. Even not having things to stress about makes me stressed. I'm at my most Peter Parkeriest, in the worst sort of a way.

I thought it was a brain thing – that it was all in my head. I have a new, stressful job, and a stressful living situation, and some family issues I'm dealing with. It'll pass. So I kind of tried to power through, until my body shut down on me last year. And as it turns out, when I got checked out by the doc, it's not just a brain thing. I have a tumor (her name is Lamar, and she's benign, buuut...) she's producing 5x the normal amount of stress hormone in my body. The doctors think it's insane. I think it's hilarious. I feel like it's some kind of joke.

I've been battling this ridiculous chronic stress for years, thinking it was all in my head, but actually, biologically, I'm an overflowing reservoir of stress, and it's something that can be measured in my bloodstream. And it's been going on for years!

So, lately I've been devoting a lot of time to forcing myself to relax. Doctors orders. I can't get stressed about things. Every day I have to effectively diffuse a bomb. And the bomb is me. I'm so pumped up with involuntary stress, and I have to devote my time to keeping it at a manageable level. And so there are a lot of backflips I have to do to keep myself human right now, and not turn into a bomb.

See... posting to the blog doesn't exactly calm me down. It makes me anxious, most of the time. So I've been telling myself it's okay. Only post when you feel good. You have enough things to worry about, and the blog can't be one another thing to worry about. It can only be for fun. If it doesn't feel like fun, don't do it.

I need to do a million little calming activities to function. The blog used to calm me. But it doesn't, anymore. I still love it, and I still have so many scripts I'm excited to do, but... I just have to be patient with myself, right now. I can't bug my head over something that can wait. It can wait. Right now isn't the time. My health is the most important thing. I can't get that back, if I lose it.

Right now I'm about keeping my head above water. Keeping calm. Doing meditative things, that aren't necessarily productive... (trust me, I am SO upset about not being productive. I miss it a lot) but they force me to take it slow and force me to not worry. I'm learning the banjo (she calms me), and I spend a lot more time in nature, having staring contests with ducks and pigeons, and befriending beetles and bugs.

I'm a very positive person, and I know I'll make it through, and I love myself for all the effort I'm making to keep myself from breaking. Because I know if I didn't force myself to calm down, I could snap like an elastic band. I – I don't want to break, like I did last year. I need to be good to myself. And relaxing is an effort. It takes a lot for me. And certain calming routines work for a little while, and then stop working, and I need to make the effort all over again to find something new. It's kind of insane how much time I need to calm back down again. I remember, once upon a time, it being baseline.

Luckily there's a surgical solution, so hopefully I'll be normal again soon, and there won't be any more bees buzzing in my brain!

I hope you'll all be patient with me! And hopefully I'll make it out alive and stronger than ever, soon.

#mod speaks #a lot of the time when i write ask-spiderpool it feels prophetic somehow.#like my writing somehow knows what's up with me before my body figures it out.#i've written about peter being a timebomb about to explode because of excess hormones in his bloodstream #and now. guess who is a timebomb about to explode because of excess hormones in his bloodstream. its ya boy. me.

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anexperimentallife · 1 year ago

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As an autistic adult parenting an autistic toddler, I'm glad I'm able to use my experiences to help my little girl, and start teaching her the lessons about dealing with it that I didn't learn until I found out as an adult that I was autistic.

Like, this morning she started screaming literally within seconds of waking up because @thesurestthing was in the bathroom instead of giving her morning milk (her usual routine--the hardest thing is starting the day with a break in routine).

Then she was screaming and kicking me in the face because she didn't want to wear a diaper, then she wanted her old pee-filled diaper back on, then she wanted NO diaper again. Then when Zoey returned to nurse her, "MOMMY GO AWAY!" (Because the routine was already broken, and things would not be Perfect no matter what at this point.)

Then (and this was the majority of the meltdown) she started screaming because "I want to feel daddy! I need to feel you!" I offered my hands, my arm, my beard, and my head, to no avail. All this while I'm being intermittently kicked in the face and trying to keep her from hurting herself or me. She tried several times to do her deep breaths, yelling, "I WANT A NEW FEELING!" But she COULD NOT calm down.

THE SOLUTION: It took approximately a century (or so it felt like) to figure out she wanted me to put my hand in the high-five position so she could put her palm against mine--at which point she took a couple of deep breaths and immediately started calming down.

If we can keep her chill for the next few hours--long enough for her body to get over the meltdown--she'll most likely be fine for the rest of the day. I'm just glad that I have similar neurodivergent patterns to hers, and that since I've begun to figure out how to handle mine, I can help her learn to handle hers so that hopefully she'll have an easier life than I have.

Update: headed off a couple more meltdowns by offering my hand again, and praising her when she did her deep breaths and got herself under control. She's so cool, and she works so hard at learning self-regulation. Then she just sat with me stimming for a bit, and we read a book together.

Right now she's being a total cuddlebug with me. I love her so much, and I wouldn't change a single thing about her if I could.

I just hope that by helping her learn about dealing with her autism early I can help her have an easier life than I've had. Not by pretending to be allistic, but by taking her autism into account and doing what she needs to regulate her feelings.

She is so perfect in every way, and I love her. Yes, there are challenges, but if I could wave my hand and make her allistic, I wouldn't do it, because that would fundamentally change who she is. She's autistic, like me. And she's perfect.

#baby el #autistic #actually autistic #autistic parenting

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solarwonux · 1 year ago

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Business Proposal || knj (8/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 7.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: I hope you enjoy, I will add all the extra links later. Please please please let me know your thoughts you have no idea how much it helps me. Enjoy!

Prev | next

m.list | series m.list | wattpad

10 years ago.

You have circled around Dionysus Lake at least three times, in a failed attempt to calm your nerves. In all honesty you aren’t sure why you’re so nervous, it was a simple tutoring session with your friend's brother. Yet, the hammering in your heart and the pressure around your neck was impossible to ignore.

You know this has nothing to do with you finding him attractive. You can find someone attractive but not be attracted to them. Hence Jungkook. You know it has nothing to do with the fact that his meeting place of choice was the one cafe that was slightly out of the budget you set aside for iced coffees on the weekday.

What you do know is that it has everything to do with the fact that this is something new. A little hiccup in your perfectly curated daily routine. From now on every Tuesday and Thursday you will be meeting up with Kim Namjoon at seven o’clock at Serendipity Cafe. Who by some miracle will hopefully have you understanding the PEMDAS rules that you’re hundred percent sure we’re taught wrong to you. No more will be your days in which you stay at HYBE U’s seven floor library, cranking down on research or polishing essays after math class. No more will be your days that you decide that maybe it was time for some me time, and enjoy a nice long relaxing bath with different bath salts, bath bombs, and candles in an attempt to relax your racing thoughts and aching muscles.

No, now you have to squeeze in a half an hour walk after your algebra class to give yourself a breather. So, you don’t have to face your friend's brother all frazzled and annoyed that you have successfully sat through a math class without understanding a thing. Really, your nerves are really due to the fact that you don’t want to seem incompetent; but is it your fault that you’ve had incompetent math teachers or lack of math teachers throughout your academic year? It’s not your fault they couldn’t explain complex terms in a simple form. Or that they took advantage of the system to get close to younger children. You were cheated out of a decent understanding of math because the academic system simply worked against you.

It’s a thought you have been turning over and over in your head since you woke up this morning. You’ve been trying out every other excuse in the book.

“I’m sorry they had us do flawed computer programs in middle school instead of actually teaching us something.”

“You see I couldn’t really do my math homework growing up because I had ballet class at four until eight.”

“I’m actually really smart I just don’t understand how the fuck I have to apply an exponent when there’s a parenthesis involved.”

All of these excuses were dumb. A mask for the actual truth. Math was uninteresting, impalpable. It stayed constant and lacked excitement because you couldn’t see the puzzles laid out before you. That, and sometimes you sneakily read a book in the back of the class or whispered about the next big boy band with your equally as boy crazed friends Shalimar and Ruth.

Still, after your third wrap around Dionysus lake, you’ve decided that if questioned you’d just come clean.

“I’m stupid and I absolutely have no idea why we have to have letters and numbers mingle with each other.”

Hopefully he'll appreciate your honesty and grow a soft spot for you. At least that’s what you hope for. And you keep hoping for as you steadily approach the large wooden doors of Serendipity. There’s still about ten minutes until seven, but you figured you’d get there a bit early to grab a good seat. One in a section that’s quiet but not too quiet because the last thing you want while you sip on your peppermint tea is to be consumed by your overwhelming thoughts while you wait for your tutor.

You approach the counter, gripping the leather strap of your purse, going over your order in case you stumble upon your words due to pressure.

“Welcome to Serendipity whe—oh hey you’re Kookie’s girl.” The man behind the counter says in awe. While you cringe at the fact that you’re being referred to as Jungkook’s girl. You remember the doe eyed man referring to the man now wearing a button down with what seems to be condoms printed all over it as Hobi. Though his nametag states that his name is Hoseok. You try not to dwell on it for too long because he’s looking at you curiously. Probably wondering why you haven’t greeted him back or placed your order.

You shake your head, circling your moon shaped bag back to the front of your body, attempting to hide your discomfort. “Oh, hi, um, Jungkook’s just a friend.” You swallow, while he smiles in acknowledgement.

“I see, things are complicated. I get that.” He brushes you off before turning to the iPad in front of him. Before you can counteract with a ‘no it’s actually very simple, we share classes and he’s unfortunately picked me to annoy.’ He speaks up and gets right to the point. “What can I get you cutie?” He finishes, looking at you through his bangs.

The heat in your body erupts. No guy has ever been this forward with you but you’re positive this is just part of his customer service training. If he ever had one. Either way he’s talking you up and making you feel seen, which you assume is a specialty of his and probably why the cafe is crowded with many young adults.

With a grin you say. “Just a hot mint chocolate latte.” You nod in assurance before opening up your purse and taking out your wallet. When you fish your card out and go to swipe it across the reader a hand stops you. Startled, you look up to find Hobi or Hoseok smiling wide at you.

“No need, it’s already paid for.” He takes his hand away and gives you a white buzzer instead.

You furrow your brows in confusion. How has your drink already been paid for when you’ve just entered? You aren’t complaining, you did just save some money, but that small amount of happiness doesn’t mean that you aren’t confused.

The cashier seems to read your confusion and he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Namjoon paid for you earlier when he ordered his drink.”

“What?” You glance down at your phone to see the time. Did you get it wrong? The two of you agreed on seven, and you even confirmed it this morning through a quick text just to be sure. So, why does the analog clock on your phone read 6:55, and Namjoon has possibly already been waiting for you.

You curse under your breath and quickly put your wallet in your purse before turning around to look at the almost empty cafe. There’s only a couple of people occupying the circular tables. All of them fully immersed in their books or laptop screens. Namjoon is nowhere in sight. You look back at Hoseok—you’ve decided to refer to him as such since it’s what’s on his nametag—and he laughs at your confusion.

He lifts up a finger signaling up, “he’s on the second floor, got here about an hour ago.”

His statement doesn’t do anything but worsen the panic already coursing through your veins. Maybe you did misinterpret the time, still it wouldn’t make sense because wouldn’t he have texted you by now asking where you were?

“Um thank you…”

“Call me Hobi.” He waves a hand in front of your face. “Any friend or special friend of the boys gets the privilege to call me Hobi. Plus Hoseok—” He points to his nametag with a boney finger. “Sounds too serious.” He shrugs.

You nod your head. “Thank you Hobi.” You rush out the acknowledgement and turn around and speed walk to the industrial style spiral staircase.

It’s a dizzying journey up, but once you make it to the final step you spot the man that has your nerves at an all time high. He’s sitting in the far corner next to a floor to ceiling window. His back is hunched as he types away on his laptop. Today he’s ditched the beanie and you can see his dark brown hair. A few strands of his bangs sneak their way behind the thick rims of his black glasses. He’s wearing a simple gray long sleeve, with black sweatpants. He looks relaxed, the opposite of what you’re feeling because the thing you hate most in the world is keeping people waiting.

With quick steps you approach the table, halting when you get to the front of a chair. “I’m sorry, I thought we agreed on seven.” You rush out instead of a proper greeting. In a quick motion he lifts his head and takes off the earbuds inside his ears, and you feel like more of an idiot than before because of course he would be wearing noise canceling earbuds.

“Hey, you’re here. Did you order something? I told Hobi that I would just pay for what you wanted.” He grins and stands up, extending his hand for you in a handshake.

You put your hand in his and feel a shiver run down your spine when his cold one meets your clammy one. “Am I late?” You tilt your head to the side.

Namjoon shakes his head, and lets go of your hand before sitting down again. “No, you’re right on time. I just got here a bit early to get a head start on an essay due by the end of the week.” He reassures you, and finally you can let out the breath you had been holding in.

You feel calmer now. Relieved. You set down your stuff on an empty chair and take the seat directly in front of him. You place your white buzzer in front of you, tracing the circular ridges. Now, that you’re not in such a panicked state you can finally show your gratitude to his selfless actions. “Thank you for the drink, you didn’t have to pay for it.”

The busy man smiles and waves his hand in front of his face to brush you off. “It’s no big deal, Hobi gives me discounts anyway.”

“So, I’ve heard.” You whisper recalling the first night you met him a week ago. Since then, Jungkook snuck his brother’s phone number to you the next day at the library. He didn’t say anything, he just passed by you with a green drink from the only smoothie place on campus and a sticky note saying:

Text Namjoon, he’s forgetful. -JK

It took the whole day to muster up the courage but finally you sent a simple text regarding your name and the fact that his younger brother had been the one to sneak you his number. In case, he assumed you had gone through multiple deep dives on the internet to retrieve it. Thankfully, Namjoon didn’t question it and just replied with a simple greeting. Then the two of you got into a brief conversation that lasted about two days because you’re also forgetful and forgot to reply to his messages. Basically coordinating a plan further than the one you had discussed the first time you met.

It was strictly business. Yet, a part of you felt a little happy that you were meeting and talking to somebody new.

Just as you’re about to take out your small notebook and pen from your purse your buzzer comes to life, filling the spaces of silence in the air surrounding the two of you. Namjoon’s eyes tear away from his computer screen, and you’re about to stand up when he beats you to it. He quickly grabs a hold of the noisy device saying, “Don’t worry I got it,” and he disappears down the stairs.

You’re now sitting by yourself, wallowing in your over consuming thoughts. Most of them involve the story Jungkook told you about his very eventful weekend while the two of you were walking to your math lecture earlier today. Truly, it was so odd knowing that he had run into Taehyung at a club in the rich part of town. The two of them stayed together the entire night and even brought home two girls to Taehyung’s apartment. Thankfully, he didn’t share further than that, but he did share that he was in love. In which you rolled your eyes so hard it gave you vertigo.

In the few months that you have known the man. He has claimed that he has been in love with every single girl he’s slept with. Which surprisingly, given his flirty nature was not a lot. What was surprising to you was Taehyung being at the club. It’s not out of character for him, but Saturday nights were always spent at Jimin’s one bedroom apartment catching up on life, and binge watching One Piece. When his text message came through on Saturday evening saying that he wasn’t feeling very well and skipping out. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad because you hadn’t seen him in a while.

Taehyung was always out and about, chasing every new adventure he could grasp. He called it inspiration for his art, but you always knew there was another underlying reason. One he never cared to explain because in all honesty it only made sense to him. He was a tough book to get through. Sometimes it keeps you questioning why you even have a soft spot for it. Though, you suppose it is the backstory the two of you share. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit hurt knowing he had chosen to not ditch you but Jimin as well.

The night wasn’t a bust and you managed to finally make a significant breakthrough on the anime. Twenty episodes in one night was something that needed to be awarded. It did feel a bit awkward when it was just the two of you. It was as if there was an invisible ceiling slowly crushing you, because on Saturday for the first time ever the two of you found yourself stuck. Nothing to talk about. No updates on life, only the sound of the anime doing its best to fill the void of Taehyung not being there that the both of you unspokenly felt.

It made you question a lot of things. Like was it maybe time to finally part ways? A chilling thought that sent shivers down your spine and one you pushed so far into the back of your head. One you really don’t want to think about now, especially when you’re about to succumb yourself to a full extra hour of torture. Otherwise known as: College Algebra.

“Hobi says that if you take a picture of his latte art to tag him if you post it.” Namjoon voices, placing a small tray in front of your open notebook. A white mug with a beautiful Jack O'Lantern drawn in white foam decorates the top of your warm decaffeinated latte. It’s impressive, surely puts all those swans and hearts to shame.

“He’s a big fan of Halloween, and he always says that fall time means it's Halloween everyday.” Namjoon finishes with a chuckle, as he takes the seat in front of you again.

You laugh a little, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your jean jacket. “I can get behind that.” You say as you click on the camera app and snap a couple of pictures.

Unbeknownst to you, Namjoon is watching as you rearrange the contents on the table. To get the right aesthetic for your perfect picture. He can’t lie, it's a little endearing, seeing somebody so excited over latte art he has grown accustomed to seeing. It’s something he will definitely spill onto Hoseok before he leaves. His friend was crazy talented in many areas and he hates that instead of sharing all his passions out with the world. He’s stuck running Serendipity because his grandfather wanted the neighborhood's hub to stay in the Jung family. When he should be out in the world sharing his clothing designs with anyone who’s willing to listen.

Namjoon’s thoughts are interrupted by your extended hand, holding out your phone for him. “What’s his instagram?” You grin, and his eyes make their way to the small phone screen. A beautifully taken picture, showing off the spooky pumpkin with a caption reading,

Halloween should be all year round @--

Namjoon lets out an ‘ah’ before taking your phone and quickly typing out his friend's handle. He reads the caption again, double checking to see if he made any mistakes, Halloween should be all year round @uramyhope.

He nods in approval and hands you back your phone. Deep down he feels a surge of something foreign. He can’t necessarily put his finger on it but regarding Hoseok’s statement when he first met you last week, when he asked both his brother and him for your number. He feels a little strange, knowing that he’s basically given the two of you a way to start communicating outside of him and Jungkook. Knowing the aspiring designer, he won’t miss a beat, and that makes him feel a bit odd.

He shrugs it off though, pushes away the churning in his stomach, concluding that it was because he chose to consume caffeine so late in the evening. He looks back at his computer screen, while you type away on your phone. He continues to ignore it, saves the document on his computer two times before closing the lid. He pushes it aside, and clears his throat, catching your attention.

Quickly you lock your phone and stuff it into the pocket of your jacket. You look over at Namjoon, his hands clasped in front of him and a scowl prominent on his face. It resembled the same one he transformed into the first night you met him. When he coldly stated he was done with blind dating thanks to his mother and step brother. Though, this time it does feel less intense, probably due to the fact that he knows you’re just here to be his tutee and not his future wife.

Still, it lets you know that time was ticking and it was finally time to get down to business.

“How have you gone on this long without understanding the basic principles of algebra?”

Namjoon is serious. He means business and you’re about to pull out the hair from your scalp.

“Maybe because I never had a permanent math teacher, they’d all leave in the middle of the year.” You pout, crossing your arms in front of you and slumping down in your seat.

He lets out a sigh before sliding your notebook to his side of the table. The metal spiral scratching against the wooden surface, letting out an unpleasant noise making you cringe.

“That’s a good excuse.” He says, grabbing his red pen and making all sorts of marks along the paper. You don’t need to know what steps you got wrong while solving the math problem. You know exactly where you went wrong. It was the second you signed up for the class even if you didn’t have much of a choice.

You groan, throwing your head back. “It’s not an excuse. My eighth grade teacher left in the middle of the year because she got pregnant, my ninth grade teacher unfortunately was diagnosed with cancer. Then my tenth grade teacher was accused of being a pedophile so he was fired an—“

“Okay,” Namjoon cuts you off, setting down his pen on top of your notebook. “I understand, your school was just shitty at keeping teachers around.” He grins, placing the notebook in front of you again. “But did you ever do your math homework?” He tilts his head to the side in curiosity.

Unfortunately you’ve been caught. “No,” you whisper, dragging your fingernail down the spiral.

The sound he lets out tells you enough. He’s proven his point with the sarcastic hum that escapes his mouth. “In my defense I had dance practice everyday after school from two to four and the ballet from five to eight.” You add but it does little to prove your innocence. Instead, it makes you look guiltier or maybe not you but your parents because who would choose an extracurricular activity over academics. Especially when they knew their daughter was absolute shit at math. They did try though, but even the math tutor they hired back in high school could not get through to you.

“I see,” he puts a pensive hand on his chin leaning back. The look he gives you makes you feel small. You can’t tell if he’s judging your upbringing or the you now who can’t seem to understand the simple PEMDAS rules.

“Your problem isn’t even that bad. It’s easy to fix. You know what each operation does. You just get confused with the order along the way.” He leans forward, picking up the pen and pointing to the problem you just finished doing. “You know to do parenthesis first, but then you forget that parenthesis don’t really go away. That’s your first mistake.”

It’s like a lightbulb has suddenly flicked on inside your head as you watch him solve the problem while thoroughly explaining each step. Writing out every single step even if it was unnecessary, but it helps.

“So the answer should be seventeen and not twenty-two.” He finishes, and the puzzle slowly starts to connect itself before your eyes. The steps are laid out perfectly and neatly. The parenthesis stay until the equation is factored to the lowest it can go. And you’re about to jump across the table to give the man before you the biggest hug. He’s the only one who's been able to point out what you’ve done wrong your whole life and then explain it easily.

You lift your head up, wide eyed and say “oh, that makes sense.”

Namjoon laughs, almost as if he’s relieved but also disbelieved. You start to feel bad because for the past hour he’s been trying to explain to you the basic principles in every way possible. And it was only until he explained it to you in baby terms that you finally understood. You’re about to apologize, but instead you’re left stunned by his next words.

“I’m giving you homework for the next time we see each other on Thursday.” He hums, flipping to the next page. Your eye twitches a little at the thought of math homework. If you never did it while you were in school and getting graded for it, why would you do it now?

“Homework?”

He hums, and begins to write down a bunch of different math problems. He can sense that you’re about to fill him with different complaints, so he speaks up. “Do you want to pass math class?

“Yes, but do you really need to give me homework?”

“How many hours were you in dance class growing up?”

“I don’t remember like five hours, but what does that have to do with you giving me math homework.”

“What were you doing for five hours?” He lifts his head, handing you your notebook. You take it looking down at the ten perfectly curated algebra problems.

You want to throw up.

“Practicing.”

“Exactly, and how are you going to pass math?”

You huff, seeing exactly where his question was heading. Proving a point or whatever. Jungkook did mention his brother was a bit of a smart ass. Now you’re unfortunate enough to be at the receiving end.

With a grunt you close your notebook. “Fine, I'll do the homework.”

Namjoon smirks, tapping his ear, leaning in further into the table. “No, I want to hear you say it please.”

You stuff your small spiral notebook into your purse, snatching your special pink mechanical pencil from his side of the table. You spent too much money on it to let—your stupid math tutor who is now giving you homework to make you suffer—steal it.

“I need to practice math.” You mumble, zipping up your bag, and putting it over your shoulder.

Namjoon laughs, letting his red pen fall against the wooden table with a clank. You roll your eyes before standing up. At least your suffering was amusing to someone.

You cross your arms in front you waiting for his laughter to die down. When it does he looks at you, watery eyes from joy and you feel a slight tug in the inside of your chest. You push it to the side, convince yourself that it’s just the irritation bubbling up inside of you.

“Are you done?”

He nods, shuffles around the table to put his stuff away. “How are you getting home?” He questions, standing up and hoisting his vintage messenger bag over his shoulder.

You shrug, “the bus.” You state, pulling up your phone to check the bus schedule. If you can catch the next bus that comes in ten minutes then you’ll still be able to get home with a couple of seconds left of daylight.

“I’ll go with you then.” He states firmly, standing up abruptly and walking past you. It leaves you no room to argue against him.

You’re quickly starting to realize that once he says something firmly enough to be believed as the truth. There is absolutely no room left for a final say.

And they call you stubborn…as if.

The bus arrived a minute late. A minute that felt longer than what it should’ve felt. The two of you were the only ones standing side by side under the dim light of the bus stop.

It’s one thing to be in the same room as your tutor while the only thing the two of you talk about is math. It’s another thing to have him offer to walk you home. There’s no conversation. There’s no way to start a conversation. The only thing you really know about him is that he’s still studying, he is Jungkook’s step brother and he’s a philosophy major. The only philosophers you knew off were the ones from Ancient Greece. All the readings for your Introduction to Modern Rhetorics course that you were assigned to do were somewhere buried in the back of your mind.

You don’t want to start up a conversation in which you know you won’t be able to keep up. You remember very little about the readings and somehow the things you do remember blend into one another. So you can’t differentiate between what one philosopher said and what the other said.

Instead, Namjoon and you walk in silence. At a safe distance but close enough to still feel the presence of the other. Then you stand in the bus stop. Neither of you sit on the cold metal bench because it’s still not cold enough for them to turn on the bench warmers. And when you see that the bus is a minute late, you start to feel the slightly awkward air around the two of you get thicker.

You’re about to bite the bullet, take the embarrassing moment for some sort of small talk when the bright blue bus turns the corner. You watch it approach the stop fast. At least that’s what it feels like and soon enough the driver opens the double doors to welcome the two of you.

Surprisingly it’s not full. There are a few people occupying the seats, but there’s enough room to not feel like you’re being squished upon one another. Namjoon lets you enter first. Once you click your transit card against the reader you scan the rows for an empty seat. And of course, there’s two left in the far back. You walk to it quickly. Pass the exhausted bystanders and take the seat against the window.

After all, you will be here for the next twenty five minutes. Though, it’s not only occurred to you that you don’t know where Namjoon lives, until he takes up the seat next to yours. You want to ask if he’s going out of his way or if his place is along this route. But you don’t want to pry too much. You’ve only just met him officially. You also don’t know what you would do with yourself if it does turn out that his place is out of the way. Probably, apologize profusely for being such an inconvenience.

To save yourself from the discomfort you sights upon the buildings outside the window. Your daydreaming only lasts a few seconds when you feel a light tap against your shoulder. In a quick motion you turn your head to face the man sitting next to you. You tilt your head in question and he opens his mouth to speak.

“What’s the deal with you and Jungkook?”

The question feels like you’ve been hit by whiplash. It’s not the first time you get asked about it. Your longtime friend Jina has brought it up a few times, but you always reply with the same exact answer. “I guess we’re friends.” You shrug.

Namjoon hums in acknowledgment, nodding his head. He looks ahead for a few minutes before looking back at you. “Are you sure?”

Now, this question takes you aback. Nobody’s ever questioned your honesty. At least until now.

You quirk a brow and nod. “Yes, we share a few classes and sometimes we study together. But it always feels like I’m there to study and he’s just there to talk because he never shuts up.” You rant.

“Ah,” he chuckles, moving his head in confirmation. “That sounds like him, when he was younger he never talked, but then he turned fifteen got a little confident because he found out a few people found him cute and he just never stopped talking then.” Namjoon reveals, making you smile. “He also talks in his sleep.” He adds, smiling when he hears you let out a giggle.

Suddenly, it doesn’t feel as awkward as before. It feels a bit simpler. And you find yourself leaning into his aura a little more.

“I think he likes you though.” He adds, making your eyes grow wide in surprise. Maybe you’re dumb or you just don’t understand flirting thanks to the two very unserious relationships you had between the transition of high school and college. But from what you do know is that Jungkook holds no romantic feelings or a liking towards you. That’s something you’re very confident in.

“I don’t think so.” You scoff. “He would be stupid if he did.” You wave him off, and look out the window. You catch his reflection in the glass. He’s looking down at you, smiling in amusement. It somehow makes your cheeks get a bit hot and you divert your gaze down to the metal border of the window.

“He sat me down on our couch last night and laid down some ground rules.” He speaks up, looking ahead again. He lifts his hand and starts, “I’m not allowed to let you out of my sight, I have to be nice to you, and Hobi is not allowed under any circumstances get your number, which somehow I failed at doing.” He shrugs and counts with his fingers as if that proves his statement.

You stare at his hand before looking up at him again, you’re at a loss for words. Your thoughts are all jumbled up. Somehow you know tonight you won’t be able to sleep. You will now be questioning every single interaction you’ve had with Jungkook in the past few months.

Clearing your throat you say, “that doesn’t mean he like…has feelings for me.”

He lifts his hands up in defense. Your tone is harsh and he finds it amusing. He continues, “don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just relaying information on something I’ve observed.”

You finally turn to look at him. Your eyebrows are drawn together in a scowl. “No offense but your observation is stupid.” You cross your arms in a huff, pouting like a child. It makes Namjoon laugh loud enough to turn heads, causing you to look at him alarmed. It only makes him laugh harder and when you’re about to reprimand him, the automatic voice sounds in the speakers of the bus. It announces your stop and you scramble quickly to press the bright red button to stop the bus.

This shuts Namjoon up, he looks around, biting the inside of his cheek before nodding his head in confirmation. “This is your stop,” he voices just as the bus comes to a halt.

You nod, taking out your bus card from your purse and standing up. He copies your movements, makes his way to the card scanner and places his card against it. He doesn’t wait for you to exit he simply does and stands outside on the sidewalk, hands in his pocket. You scan your card and take the leap of faith from the bus stairs to the sidewalk. You land next to him, thanking your lucky stars for catching you and finally you voice out the question that’s been dying in the back of your throat.

“This is not your stop is it?”

“It’s not but, I promised Jungkook you would get home safely.” With that he turns on his heels and escapes the light of the stop, appearing again a few feet ahead underneath the street light. “Are you coming?”

“Do you do everything Jungkook says?” You grumble. The argument in which you state that you’re a big girl who is more than capable of walking home by herself escapes you. Only because when you’re finally standing in front of him. His head towering just a few inches above yours, it finally hits you. The jolt that springs in the pit of your stomach. The tug inside your heart that will have you up all night because it feels like a terrible case of heartburn. And the seed, his soft gaze plants inside of your mind.

It’s a mistake, a big one and you’re now regretting taking up Jungkook’s offer to have his brother tutor you. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen at all. The slow cascade down the wall you’ve built surrounding your emotions. You can feel it crumble already, ready to run down a dead end street, because that’s what it feels like. Whatever you’re feeling inside.

“I don’t.” The soft timbre of his voice brings out, you’re thankful it helps you find your way back down to the ground, but you’re not a fan of the way it paints goosebumps across your arms.

He continues, “I don’t want him to lecture me for not looking out after his friend.” He emphasizes the last part, combining it with a wink. You know what he is implying and you can’t help but feel a bit of the drink you had an hour ago threatening to make its way up your throat.

“You’re not going to give up are you?” You walk past him. It’s best to have him a few feet behind than right next to you. The space gives you time to regain yourself, yet it doesn’t last because in seconds he’s right next to you. His arm is so close. It almost brushes against yours. Thankfully it doesn’t but you can smell his cologne. It’s soft, and warm. Like fresh laundry on a sunday morning. It makes your insides burn and you know that from now on you will be looking for that scent everywhere so you can call it yours.

Namjoon shakes his head. “I’ve never seen him this protective over someone apart from his mom.” He whispers now, and the lower his voice gets the lower it sinks inside of you. “You must be special to him.” He concludes.

“I think I’m just the first girl who's never kissed his toes and finds him annoying.” You halt in front of a street light, and he stops with you. The little man signals red—do not go. You turn your head from side to side questioning your safety. If you run now, you will likely still be alive but most importantly away from the man next to you. Honestly, you’re a bit confused. When he was talking about algebra the only thing you could focus on was how to get from point a to point b while solving the problem.

Now that the moon is dim and the streets are emptying out. The only thing you can think about is how soft and ethereal he looks. Nothing like how when you first met him, but something straight out of a modernized fairy tale. It’s hitting you unexpectedly and you begin to wonder if it’s because your exhaustion is finally settling in, making you delusional.

“That could be true, but I think that you’re here to stay for a long time.” He chuckles. The little man switches to green and he takes the step.

“Why do you say that?” You walk fast to catch up to him. You realize that he is blindly following you and you to him. Sure, you’re almost home, but he’s leading the way as if he knows where he’s going. As if he’s done this before with you and has been doing this with you his entire life. It doesn’t do anything to calm your beating heart.

He stays quiet. He keeps on walking, stealing secret glances your way to see if he’s still at the same pace as you. It stays this way until you stop in front of a cute town house. The door is decorated with an autumn reef. The worlds ‘welcome fall,’ take up the entire circumference. There’s a red bell on the handle, to signal when someone is home since the doorbell has been broken ever since you could remember.

You’re home. But for some reason it had already felt like you were home.

“If it’s not Kook then it’s Hobi. Plus I need to make sure you pass math.” He voices.

You look at him, tilting your head in confusion. Until your mouth widens in a silent ‘oh’ recalling the question he had failed to answer a minute ago.

“I think your brain has been corrupted by reading into things while you do your research.”

He chuckles, “again don’t shoot the messenger, it’s not surprising though.” He shrugs, “My brother never shuts up about you, and Hobi hasn’t stopped asking for your contact information since you first walked into Serendipity a week ago.”

You roll your eyes, turning away from him and pressing your palm against the keypad of your house. It lights up, showing numbers and you quickly enter the code, wait for the little lock to signal it has been unlocked and you turn the knob.

Before you walk in you turn to face him again. “I won’t argue with you against the whole Hobi thing. But I know Jungkook doesn’t have feelings for me. If he did he wouldn’t tell me about all the dates he’s gone on and ask for advice whenever he has relationship or situationship problems. Plus he says he’s in love with someone he met this weekend.” You reason.

Namjoon takes his hands out of his pockets, raising his hands in defeat again. “Fine I’ll drop it, but I do think he finds you special. That’s all.” He states firmly and once again you’re reminded of that tone. He’s gotten the last word and you won’t bring up another one because if not then you’d be walking a tight circle around each other.

“Agree to disagree.” You smile, taking one step inside your house. “I’ll take your word for now. Thank you for walking me home. You didn’t have to even if Jungkook asked you to.”

He buries his hands into his pockets and grins. “I also wanted to.” He takes one step back. “Good night, I’ll see you on Thursday.” And with that he turns around, starts his way down the same path that led the two of you here.

Home.

You’re left astounded. In a rush to feel comfort once again, you hurry through the door, slamming it behind you, pressing your back against it. For a moment you’re scared your parents might find you in this state, wallowing in feelings you can’t begin to understand. Then you remember that they were at dinner with their friends, and you’re thankful that you still have some time to regain yourself.

Namjoon’s words cut deep. Not what he said about Jungkook. You know as well as you know your name that romantic feelings between the two of you are nonexistent. But you also know that he said he wanted to walk you home.

Chivalry might not be dead but the bar is low, because he wanted…he wanted…he wanted to wa—

Beep.

Your phone goes off signaling a message. With all the ditzyness a girl with a school girl crush can have. You fish out your phone with a haste, what if it’s him.

Though, that thought dies as quickly as it was conjured. It’s not him, but it’s a notification that in the same right births a little flame inside of you. Maybe not as bright as the one Namjoon left behind, but it has the potential to grow into something more.

uarmyhope wants to send you a message.

Your smile gets wide when you swipe across the notification. It opens up to your Instagram and it quickly directs you to your DMS.

You open it, and you feel a spark when you read the few choice words that were chosen. They’re simple but they’re enough. And they’re the start of a long night of getting to know someone else.

Your next latte is on me cutie.xx

193 notes · View notes

whxre-bxby · 2 years ago

Note

May I request mansk smut. I barely see anyone write for him and he just needs some love 😭😭. Just some sweet love making for him and the reader 💕

YES MISS GURL HERE WE GO BITCHES

"Late Night Feels"

Mansk (recom/Na’vi) x Y/N (recom/Na’vi f.)

Summary: During a game night with a few recoms, you can’t help but notice Mansk’s lingering eyes. When you confront him about it he gets shy before confessing and the man is whipped. After his heartfelt confession, you can’t keep your composure anymore and you both go to his room.

WARNINGS: SMUT, Fluff (so freakin cute), swear words, praise-kink (Mansk), f. Oral receiving, penetration, Mansk whimpering (yesss), breeding kink, mating

Masterlist

Word count: 9421

The recom team had built many new routines since being brought back to life on Pandora. One of them started when neither of us could fall asleep because our bodies felt so foreign to us. We were able to play it off during the day in front of everyone, but once we were left alone, most of us couldn’t stand it.

I was having a second life crisis, almost breaking down in front of my mirror. To calm down, I needed to leave the confined space that was meant to serve as a room.

I ended up in the cafeteria/kitchen for the recoms, holding a glass of water and staring into nothingness.

Mansk was the first to enter the kitchen after me. My presence startled him a little but we were both so out of it I didn’t even notice anyone walk in. He also got himself a glass of water and that was when Lyle walked in. Following him came Zdinarsk and then Ja. That was the group. The others seemed to have fallen asleep normally.

We cleared the air by agreeing that we were extremely uncomfortable, but no one wanted to talk about it including me. So instead of talking, Lyle suggested we play cards to get our minds off of things. No one had anything better to do, so we agreed.

That’s how the routine of a weekly game night started. Every Thursday, we would meet after curfew in the diner by the kitchen and play cards around a table. It lightened the mood and definitely helped.

Today was a Thursday. The lights had all been turned off and everyone had gone to their rooms. The only people awake were the human soldiers assigned night watch and they were on the other side of the facility.

I smiled, feeling a little calmer now that I knew I could go play cards and not have to sleep.

As usual, I walked through the empty corridors and into the cafeteria. Ja and Mansk were already there and were currently pushing the tables together. I greeted them, getting the stack of cards from beneath the counter and grabbing a chair to sit by the table. Within a few minutes, Lyle and Z-Dog had arrived.

Now, we were all sitting in a circle, with one light on in the corner as we played. The game had been going on for about an hour and we were still having fun. I was getting slightly tired and Ja had yawned next to me so I wasn’t the only one.

“How ‘bout one last round and then we call it a night?” Ja suggested, taking everyone’s cards and shuffling them.

“Hopefully Lyle won’t lose again.” Z teases and I chuckle, taking a sip from my glass. Mansk smiles to himself before staring down at his hands. He’s sitting opposite me.

“No need to worry. I’m feelin’ this round. It’s my time now, people.” Lyle assures with a grin, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

“Whatever you say.” Ja returns the grin, passing out a new round of cards to everyone again.

We played and guess what? Lyle did in fact not win. Nor did he even get anywhere close to it.

I placed my cards in the middle with a smile, showing that I won. All the others had gotten rid of their cards already and it was just Lyle and me. Lyle was still holding at least seven.

He huffed, throwing his cards to the middle in defeat.

“You guys are cheatin’. Ja’s shufflin’ it wrong.” Lyle argues and I bite my lip to contain laughter. Ja looks almost offended.

“That’s 5 losses in a row.” Mansk says and I nod, while my grin widens. Z-Dog is pressing her fist over her mouth to cover her smile but Lyle sees us.

“Okay, quit laughin'. I’ll beat you both now.” Lyle adds, taking his new set of cards and looking at them.

“How about we play until Lyle doesn’t lose?” I suggest and Z laughs while Lyle huffs in annoyance.

“Sounds good.” Ja adds, leaning back on his chair.

“Okay, then this is the last round.” Lyle states, building up a confident attitude to beat the game. Mansk looks up at me and we exchange looks, questioning Lyle’s words but we suppress laughter to not upset him.

I think you know what’s coming.

Let me ease your mind and inform you, that that was indeed not the last round we played.

The game went on for another good 30-40 minutes, with Lyle refusing to speak after each loss of a round. Ja would quietly shuffle while we exchanged mocking looks. Lyle wasn’t having it.

Finally, Lyle hadn’t won first but had not lost.

The rounds before where he lost would have been a little boring if it wouldn’t have been for one person in particular.

Sitting across from me were lingering eyes belonging to Mansk. He wasn’t wearing his signature shades and I caught him looking at me a few times. The looks were harmless and innocent, yet I felt like there was more to them.

I wondered what had caught his eye because I was definitely not wearing anything impressive. I had a loose and oversized t-shirt on, which I slept in and some comfortable shorts that had pockets which I loved.

I wasn’t wearing a bra and my hair was messy. It wasn’t the first time I hadn’t worn a bra around them. Z also wasn’t because we were about to head to bed anyway. Except for today, my shirt was grey and not black so I guess my chest was more visible. But he wasn’t the type of guy to rudely stare so I don’t think that was it.

Anyway, Z-Dog was holding the last cards and thereby lost while Lyle celebrated in her face. She was annoyed she lost to him and said goodnight before walking off. I was smiling to myself as he followed her down the hallway, repeating how easy it was to beat her and how she made a mistake. As if he hadn’t lost the last 10 rounds in a game he most likely made up and even suggested in the first place.

Ja yawned again, rolling his shoulders and finishing his water before walking towards the hallway.

“See you tomorrow guys. Was fun with you.” he said and I smiled.

“Good night.”

With that Ja left while I still sat at the table with Mansk. I finished my water while he put the deck of cards back into their box.

Seeing all the empty glasses around the table I sighed and pushed my chair back. Getting up, I collected the glasses and carried them to the sink, leaving Mansk behind at the table.

Of course, Lyle had been drinking some sweet juice and not water so his glass had stained red. I turned on the tap and started washing up.

Behind me, Mansk had noticed my actions and wanted to help out. He returned the chairs to their original spots and pulled the tables back apart before slowly walking to me.

He stopped, observing you from a small distance. He had been trying to not get caught up in his thoughts while playing but it was difficult with you looking this good to him. He knew you wouldn’t understand if he told you, but he loved how you looked right now. To be honest, he always liked the way you looked but right now, it was the best he’s seen yet.

The way the huge t-shirt draped from your smaller figure almost covering your shorts and riding up slightly there where your tail was had him mesmerised. Your loose and let down hair which was finally for once not restricted and pulled back in a ponytail or any other hairdo you did with your braid and hair made him unable to stop staring.

You looked so comfortable and real to him. In military uniform and during training, he found you intimidating and would choose to not approach you. Now, you looked like you had finally let your guard down and were more welcoming to him. That's why he looked forward to game nights. He looked forward to seeing you as you were. Not the tough girl that sometimes even scared him. Don’t get him wrong, he always thought you looked hot, even when training or fighting. But he felt as though he could not talk to you then. Now, with the others around and during games, it was easier and you seemed nicer.

I felt his presence behind me and I brushed it off for a good 10 seconds until it started distracting me from washing up properly.

Glancing behind me, I see Mansk comfortably standing and watching me. When he sees me turn my head around, he quickly turns away and places the stack of cards back underneath the counter that I got them from.

I return my gaze to the cups and smile to myself, loving the effect I had on him. It was a surprise when I noticed how Mansk would get intimidated by me, but I decided to have some fun with him.

Luckily, he didn’t walk away. Mansk walked up next to me, picking up a glass and helping me wash up.

“Oh it’s okay, I had that.” I say, not wanting him to feel pressured into helping me. A small and faint smile stretches across his face.

“I’m not gonna just leave you here to clean up after everyone.” he replied, his voice a little hoarse but nevertheless soft and kind.

“How about just watching me instead, huh?” I tease him, grinning and nudging his side with my hip while my tail flicks in his direction. In contrast, his tail stops comfortably swaying and his ears lean back a little.

I notice his tenseness and look up at him, the grin turning into a smile.

He’s blushing, but I won’t point it out just yet. There’s more I can do.

I finish washing the cups and Lyle’s sticky glass, placing them on the bottom of the sink. Mansk is still rubbing away at his glass like he was a few minutes ago.

“I think it’s clean.” I speak up, seeming to pull him out of his thoughts. He opens his mouth to say something but I’m already pulling the glass from his grasp and placing it to the others. Mansk doesn’t stop me.

“Can you pass me the towel?” I ask and he glances at me, his ears perking before looking to his side. It seems to take him a while to process what I said, so I nudge him a little.

“Please?” I give him innocent doe eyes and his ears perk forward even more, his eyes staring down into my own.

“Y- yeah, sure.” he replies, trying to pull himself together and he hands me the towel.

“Thanks.” I say, taking a glass and drying it. With the second glass I take out, I turn around, with my back facing the sink while I lean against it and stare into the open and dark cafeteria.

Mansk reaches for another towel, takes a glass and continues helping me dry them in silence.

“If Lyle doesn’t start winning, we’re gonna have to come up with a new game.” I chuckle, trying to ease the atmosphere for him because I could tell he felt awkward even though he was quite good at hiding it.

“Yeah.” Mansk smirks, dropping his head a little and chuckling. “Ja knows a few. It won’t get boring.”

“It wouldn’t get boring anyway.” I say, hinting at his previous lingering eyes. He doesn’t quite catch up, or maybe he does and he tries to avoid that conversation.

“It wouldn’t? With Lyle always losin’?” he asks, glancing at me. I smirk, putting the previous glass away and grabbing a new one.

“Nah. You kept it interesting.”

I can see from the corner of my eye how his tail stills again and his body tenses. Our body language is much clearer now as Na’vi and he has become easy for me to read.

He doesn’t reply but I hear him swallow.

“Was there something on my shirt?” I ask, continuing to push it, knowing damn well my shirt had little to do with his staring. I wanted to fluster him and have him stutter until he was forced to confess everything.

“Uh- no. No your shirts fine.” he starts to talk, stumbling over his words. His voice is unsure and he doesn’t seem to know what to say. “I, uhm-”

Even through his deep voice, one could still tell he was nervous. I loved it.

Mansk also always spoke clearly and used minimal words. To have him fucking stutter is amazing.

“Oh shit, is it see-through?” I gasp, pretending to panic and he does too.

“No- No no it’s not.” he says, turning to me and I bite my lip, giggling.

He realises I’m messing with him and turns back to face the room in silence. Yep, he’s embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I just find it funny that I can tease you.” I say, unable to hide my grin. He smiles but his ears are strained back. A nervous smile perhaps?

I press myself against his side, knowing the initiated body contact will frustrate him.

“You need to loosen up, Mansk.” I say, all innocent again while I caress his leg with my tail. He doesn’t move, he just stays still. I can hear how quickly his heart is beating, even through his unsteady breaths.

“Aw, come on. What is it?” I say, playing stupid and nudging his side. “You don’t like me? I can leave if you want?”

He scoffs a little. Not in a rude way, but to himself.

“Of course I like you, it’s not that.” he speaks and I smile again, putting the cup down and facing him.

“What is it then?”

A minute of silence passes before he speaks up again.

“I don’t know what you mean.” he says, but clearly he is suppressing something.

“Do I make you nervous?” I ask, looking up at him and his eyes shoot to me, hinting at panic. Bingo.

“Is it because I’m not wearing a bra? Was that why you were looking earlier?” I tease, knowing it's not the reason.

He grimaced at the thought of you thinking he was looking at you only because your chest wasn’t covered with a double layer like usual. Mansk was admiring all of you before and would never want you to think of him rudely checking you out.

“No.” he states, almost whispering. His voice got caught in his throat.

“No? You don’t like my chest?” I ask, faking those wide innocent eyes again. His gaze returns to me and he opens his mouth to answer but no words come out. I watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows nervously and there I have my answer. His response makes me grin and he knows he fucked up.

“I wasn’t lookin’ because of that.” Mansk says, seeming almost irritated. I don’t say anything, I only glance at him again, waiting for him to elaborate.

He’s looking down but my silence makes him glance back at me too. He had to keep talking now.

“I just- think… you know. You look nice.” he says, his voice fading into a mumble. His words take me by slight surprise.

“I look nice?” I ask, chuckling a little. A small wave of panic flows through me when I realise my reaction might discourage him but luckily it doesn’t.

“Yeah. You look comfortable. It’s beautiful.” he pushes the words out and they electrify my heart, sending waves through my body that kill all the tiredness.

“Fuck, now you’re making me feel special.” I giggle, clutching my face in my hands and letting them slide down. The next time I look up, he is already looking at me again.

“Tell me more,” I beg him, wanting to hear everything that’s on his mind.

He looks surprised. As if he were expecting me to walk away after he said that. Mansk listens.

“You don’t look as… badass, like you do when training.” he says and my own ears perk up. What does that mean?

I questionably look up at him, wondering whether this was becoming insulting or cute.

“Which I don’t mind.” he saves it, quickly. “You look amazing when you train. Fuck. But I’d never be able to talk to you like this.” Mansk seems to be forgetting he’s confessing his deepest secret and is focusing on making sure I understand without feeling uncomfortable.

“You think I look good?” I ask, staring deeply into the empty room.

“More than just good. Fuckin’ angel.” he mumbles, looking like he wants to retreat into himself because he’s said too much. He looks down, slightly turned away from me.

“God, you’re making this hard for me.” I chuckle and he glances back at me, confused. Mansk looks worried as if he made a mistake.

“I wanted to tease you more but now you have me fucking blushing.” I say and his ears perk all the way up. His worry fades when he realises that I am indeed blushing. And his eyes widen and almost sparkle when he reminds himself that it's because of him.

“You look even prettier.” he mumbles.

“Stop. This is not how the tables were meant to turn.” I talk over him, making him smile.

“Hm.” Mansk mumbles, putting the things down and turning away to leave.

“Where are you going?” I ask, wondering why the conversation was ending at the best part.

“It’s late, I thought you wanted to go sleep early today?” he answers, stopping in his steps and turning around.

Does he really think I’ve been playing with him just for kicks this whole time?

“Late my ass. I’m not done with you.” I say. He had put the towels back and just stared at me with curious wide eyes. His lips were slightly parted too. This was the cutest and most attractive man ever.

“You think I tease you for no reason?” I ask, quickly putting the glass down and grabbing his hand. He lets me lead him away from the sink and out of the room. Even though he’s much taller and could easily resist, he lets me pull him away.

“Where are you goin’?” he asks, seeming a little hesitant. More confused and self-conscious. He didn’t know whether he had done something wrong and if he had he would never forgive himself.

I curse. “Of course, they put the women’s rooms on the other side of the fucking facility.”

Mansk watches my every move intently. In the back of his mind, he can imagine what the best-case scenario would be but he knows that there is no way that will happen so he doesn’t question it.

“Where’s your room?” I ask and he looks at me as if he’s seen a ghost.

“What?”

“You heard me. Come on.” I say, smiling at his shocked face. “Unless you don’t want this. Then I can go.”

Mansk can’t believe his ears. Want this? The man has needed this for the past month or two. But he doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up in case you aren’t thinking of the same thing. He treasures the talks he has with you and he would never risk losing that.

“Don’t want what?” he asks.

“Mansk, I need you. Right now. If you want to fuck, tell me where your room is and let’s do something about it.”

He gulps, his eyes just staring at me as his mind goes blank. That was it, Mansk was blown away and officially couldn’t believe the events unfolding before him.

“Hm?” I ask, spurring him on because I was getting a little more desperate than I wanted to be.

“207…” he whispers. Realising his voice is gone he clears his throat and tries to keep himself composed.

I nod, turning around and walking us there. Luckily it was close, much closer than my room. We arrive at his door and I stand there, looking at him to unlock it but Mansk is once again just gazing at me.

“Keys.” I say, becoming impatient. Every time I looked at him I felt my body become hotter.

“Really?” he slowly asks, his ears perking forward, giving me all his attention.

“Really what?” I ask, trying to figure out what he’s going on about.

“You want me?” His voice is so soft and the way he unsurely says it melts me. It seems as though he is still a little worried I’m messing with him again and that his feelings will be hurt. This huge bulky man in front of me suddenly seems like this tiny, fragile, cuddly bear. His hand is resting in the pocket of his sweats as his slightly slumping posture no longer shines the intimidating energy it does when he wears his uniform and shades.

“Mansk, you are the reason I go to those goddamn game nights.” I start explaining, catching on to him feeling unsure about himself. He needs reassurance and I get that. A year ago I would have too.

“You think I’d be going just to see Lyle lose his shit every time. I mean it can be nice but you make it better.”

His face lights up and the doubt is slowly being washed away. The man can’t believe what he’s hearing. He lifts his dropped head to meet my eyes.

“You happen to also look absolutely fucking amazing and this new tank top you’re wearing is really doing it for me. So if you would kindly open this door-”

I’m cut off by Mansk hastily getting his keys from the pocket of his sweats, which have to my delight started to strain and swiftly unlocking the door. He effortlessly pushes it wide open and extends his hand out to let me go inside first.

“Thank you.” I whisper but it's barely audible.

The little gesture makes my heart flutter and I step inside. He walks in after me, flicking the light on and kicking the door closed.

I quickly scan the room before turning back around to face him. He’s thrown his keys onto his nightstand and his eyes met mine. Again, Mansk didn’t want to be pushy and initiate the contact in case I had changed my mind. But god, had he been longing for your touch for so long.

I sighed, knowing I was down bad for him. My no romance in the workplace rule was long gone right now.

I take a step towards him so that he is closer to me. He is still a head taller so he peers down as I extend my arm and cup his cheek to pull him down to me.

“Kiss me.” I whisper. The words make Mansk think he’s in heaven.

Mansk more than happily obliges, shivering from excitement at the touch of you on his cheek. Our lips are just inches apart as we share breaths for a few seconds before both of us can’t stand it and our lips finally meet.

I relish in the moment while Mansk’s mind is getting blurry from the wonderland he is in.

The kiss deepens and I wrap my arms around his neck. Finally, he feels more confident and one of his hands holds the back of my head, right under my braid, while the other slides down my waist.

I notice how he keeps it on my waist and my waist only, not sliding down below my hips. His respect and politeness amaze me and I add it to the list of things I love about him, but right now it needs to change.

I slide my palm up his arm, gently holding his hand before pushing it down further.

Mansk’s ears perk up and he inhales shakily through his nose when I put his hand down on my ass.

I pull away while doing this to see his reaction and make sure I’m not overstepping any boundaries. His wide eyes meet mine again and I watch how his pupils expand the longer he looks at me.

I give him a small smile, to reassure him but also because I couldn’t hold him back. I felt so happy being around him and that he liked me this way made me want to scream and jump around.

His large hands on me made me feel safe. Even though I knew I was capable of protecting myself, this felt nice. Better than nice in fact. I was in heaven too.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered, his eyes flickering between mine slowly. My own eyes widened at his comment and my breath got caught in my chest. He really meant it, I could see that he did. I’ve never felt this appreciated and it made me feel a little emotional in fact. I wanted to return the feeling to him and make him feel as good as possible because I started to realise that he meant so much to me.

Without further hesitation, I slowly leaned in again, letting my eyes flutter closed. Mansk watched me with heart eyes, closing his own eyes and drowning in euphoria from the feeling of our lips meeting once again.

I press my body against his this time, wrapping my arms around his neck while one hand runs over the back of his head. In the process, I sway my hips forward and against his abdomen, feeling what I could only hope and anticipate was his erection.

Mansk groaned into the kiss and I felt him shiver again. Seeing him be so responsive to my touch had me craving to hear more from him.

I let one of my arms drift down from his neck and run along his strong shoulders. I was never able to identify my exact type but feeling his muscles really had an effect on me. His almost extreme strength was amazing to me and the fact that he rarely used it to its full extent made it that much better.

I flatten my palm out while Mansk deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue past my lips. I gasp but push myself further into him, letting him know I loved it. Fuck, he really knew what he was doing.

His one hand was still gently resting on my ass while the other pulled me further into him by my lower waist. Our tails flicked around behind us uncontrollably and subconsciously showing our excitement. Snitches.

I ran my palm down his bulky chest, feeling his muscles and the texture of his tank top. I fumbled with his dog tag, wrapping my hand around it and bringing him down closer to me by gently pulling at it.

He responded by holding my body even closer as if he never planned on letting go.

I then let my hand drop and dipped my fingers underneath his top, feeling his warm and bare skin beneath. He sighed at the feeling and we pulled away, both almost gasping for air.

I gripped the hem of my shirt and peeled it off, pulling it over my head. Mansk saw my movement and quickly followed, throwing his tank top to the side.

When his eyes met me they changed from being half-lidded to opening wider again. It only now occurred to him that I was half-naked before him and he was clearly having a hard time not being polite. Mansk looked away and I could see how nervous and worked up he was.

I giggled, putting my own top over a chair in his room before taking a few steps to him again. He slowly looked at me, keeping his eyes firmly on my face and not letting his gaze falter. His expression makes me smile.

“You can look, you know?” I say softly, watching his ears twitch at my words. “I’m yours if you want me to be.”

Mansk’s breath got caught in his throat and I saw how flushed he was, trying his best not to fold in front of me. Slowly, he let his eyes drift from my face to my lips, then my neck, bare collarbones and finally to my chest.

His lips parted as he shakily exhaled and stared at me in awe. I never had anyone look at me like that before.

Another small sigh left his lips while he was still processing the fact that this was happening to him. You trusted him enough and wanted him enough to be in his room like this with him.

I take a step towards him, my own gaze faltering as I admire his bare, sculpted torso.

My hand raises and Mansk is brought out of his little dream by my touch. I rest my palm on his chest, slowly tracing it over the patterns on his skin and down his abs, to his v-line.

I look up, redoing the same thing but this time feeling his shoulders too.

“You’re so pretty…” I whisper, not thinking about my words. They just slip out.

Mansk was speechless, watching your hand travel over his torso. You liked the way he looked? He knew he didn’t look bad, he just thought it was regular for the military and especially now for Na’vi. But you liked it. You liked him. It’s official now, the man is whipped for you.

I grin, loving his innocent and gentle reactions.

Slowly, I apply pressure on his chest and push him backwards. Mansk takes a few steps in the direction I need him to and within seconds, the back of his knees hit the frame of his bed and he is forced to sit down.

I stay standing in front of him and lean down to give him another kiss, before pulling away again. He leans forward, chasing my lips, not wanting to end the contact.

A smile forms on my lips as I find his begging eyes once more. They shoot down to my hands and abdomen once he realises I’m pulling my shorts and panties down.

Mansk inhales sharply as I step out of the last bits of clothing I have on and just watches me in admiration. I happen to also notice how almost painfully strained his sweatpants have become.

“You look like an angel…” he softly says, his eyes scanning and taking all of me in. I scoff, unable to handle all the compliments.

“I want to make you feel good.” I whisper, climbing onto him. Mansk smiles at my reaction and leans back a little to give me space. I sit on his lap with a leg on either side of his and wrap my arms loosely around his neck again.

He keeps looking at me while having his hands firmly placed on the bed.

“You can touch me too.” I grin, biting my lips and he lets out a soft chuckle, feeling a little embarrassed that he keeps getting caught staring.

His hands gently caress my waist and thighs and one confidently moves down to my ass.

He squeezes my cheek and I sigh, letting my eyes close for a split second. Knowing he’s getting a reaction from me, Mansk feels more confident to touch more of me.

His right-hand pushes a few strands of hair over my shoulder and then slowly drifts down to my chest. He watches my reaction for any sign of discomfort but he doesn’t get it and soon he is caressing and massaging my breasts. I sigh again in pleasure, letting my head slightly fall forward, almost landing on his shoulder.

Mansk can’t stop himself from melting into me and he pulls me closer, letting his head drop to the crook of my neck, gently kissing the skin while his hot breath sends butterflies to my stomach.

I trace the muscles on his back with my hand while the other holds onto his shoulder. My tail caresses his leg while his own one repeatedly thuds against the mattress in happiness and excitement.

As mentioned, Mansk is in heaven and he lets himself finally relax completely against me.

His face leans down in between my breasts and both his hands wrap around my waist, hugging me and pulling my closer to him. I respond by cradling his head and holding him, feeling how my touch-starved state is finally being cured.

We just relish in each other's touch for a few minutes, our hands tracing up and down the other's body before I slowly pull away and support his head when he lifts it up. My palm cradles his flushed cheek as we lock eyes again.

“What do you want?” I ask him, wanting to give him whatever I can. “I’ll do it.” I say, and I see how his eyes light up. He must be thinking of something.

“Just tell me and I can help you.” I whisper, kissing his cheek before moving down and gently biting his neck.

Mansk whimpers when I nibble at the skin of his neck and it makes my stomach twist with more excitement. I hold his head again, peppering kisses to the area.

I look up at him again and he takes another deep, shaky breath.

“Please tell me. I want to make you feel good.” I say and it seems to affect him.

Mansk is surprised by your words. He wanted to worship your body and here you were, offering him the same. You were too good to be true, but he wanted to please you before you even got started with making him feel good. There was something he had been longing of doing for the past months he had you on his mind.

We locked eyes again and he looked away before I made him look at me again.

“Sit on my face.” he whispered and I froze, replaying the words in my head. That’s what he wanted?

“Please.” he breathed out. That’s all the confirmation I needed.

“Yes, baby.” I reply and he shivers at the name I gave him. Slowly, I push him back so that he is laying beneath me. I lean down to give him a kiss of appreciation before I move up his body, eventually hovering over his head. The mattress dipped around his head as he watched me get in position.

Once again, the man's eyes were wide and his pupils were blown. He lifted his hands up, gently resting them on my hips as I found my stability.

Mansk’s eyes were fixated on my bare heat for a few good long seconds before his gaze flickered up and met mine again.

I wasn’t sure exactly how to do this and I didn’t want to hurt him. He seemed to catch on to my uneasiness.

“Y/N, let me make you feel good.” he says, sounding a little desperate. His breath is uneven while his hands try to slowly pull my hips down.

“But that’s what-”

"Please.” he breathes out again. I now notice his glossy, begging eyes and it makes me gulp. All I can do is nod and when he starts pulling me down on him, I don’t stop him.

I’m hovering right above his face and I gasp when my core makes contact with his nose. He leans his head up and I feel his tongue swipe up between my folds.

I gasp, biting my lip while staring down at him. This was completely new to me.

Before he can continue, Mansk wraps his arms fully around my thighs, tugging me further down one last time before locking me in.

I am almost literally sitting on his face now and Mansk can’t stop himself from digging in. His tongue works wonders, circling my clit before licking all around it and then teasing my entrance.

When I feel him do the last thing I whimper, letting my head drop forwards and leaning on my arms in front of me. Holy shit. My breathing becomes ragged.

Soon enough, Mansk starts devouring me like a starved man and I’m completely losing it. I’ve become a panting mess, having to bite down on my fist to not make any extremely loud noises. It feels so amazing my thighs start to quiver around his head.

Suddenly, Mansk circles my entrance and then pushes the tip of his tongue into me.

“Holy fu-” I swear, inhaling sharply while arching my back. I push myself up, leaning back and steadying my hands behind me on his bare torso.

Mansk doesn’t stop and I notice how his tail almost starts to wag when he hears the noise I made.

I can feel my orgasm approaching and my mouth drops open as I try to keep my composure.

“Mansk-” I whine out and he groans into me when he hears his name. “I’m so close…”

I try to suppress it, just to make this moment last a little longer but suddenly I feel light waves of vibrations beneath me, going straight to my core. I especially feel them on my hands that are resting behind me, on his bare chest.

Mansk started fucking purring while comfortingly stroking my thighs and that was all it took for me to lose my mind.

“Mansk! Oh my god.” I moan, my words gradually becoming less audible. He tightens his grip on me, completely locking my lower body down so that I literally can’t move or lift my hips off of him. He continues to tongue fuck me, riding out my orgasm while my legs shake and my vision becomes blurry for a few good seconds.

I lean forward, my mouth gaping open while my tail tightly curls around one of his arms.

Once I’ve finally come down a little, Mansk continues to lick me but he is a whole lot gentler now. His hands loosen, and slowly drift down my waist, giving me the opportunity to sit up.

I lift myself off of him, leaning forward and lifting a leg over his head so that I was now sitting next to him.

My face was now flushed too and I was a panting mess, my ears slightly drooped to the sides.

Mansk sat up, turning to his side to face me. He had a prideful grin on his face which made me smile. One of his hands found mine and he held it, making my heart flutter.

I watched him lick his glistening lips and my eyes widened. He was amazing.

“How was that?” he asked. I would have expected it to be said in a teasing manner but it seemed like a genuine question.

“You made my vision go blank for a few seconds.” I gasp, unable to hold back a small laugh. “Holy shit, my legs are still shaking.”

His grin returns and he smiles to himself. This was by far the best moment on Pandora for him.

I notice the tent in his crotch area and make it my mission to have him as fucked out as me.

Steadily, I move over to him, straddling his waist again. His grin slowly fades when he watches my movements in a lust-drunk haze. His erection was becoming a little painful for Mansk but he would ignore it if you told him to. He would eat you out for hours if you asked and quite literally do basically anything for you right now.

I settle on his waist and go to touch him but Mansk gently stops me. I lock eyes with him a wave of worry floods me when I see how hesitant he looks. Maybe I did something wrong or took it too far.

“Y/N?” he softly asks, his eyes looking sad.

“Yes?” I answer, my voice hinting to worry.

“I really like you…” he says, his voice quiet, barely above a whisper. I just listen, knowing there is more to come.

“I really don’t want this to be just a one-time thing.” Mansk adds. He was worried I was just using him to get off.

“Mansk, I want you. No one else… just you.” I say, watching his ears twitch and noting every little reaction. “If you want me too, this will definitely not be the only time we do this.”

He seems a little relieved but not quite fully.

“Do you feel the same way?” he asks, and I wonder for a few seconds. “I mean, romantically. Not just through attraction.”

“Yes.” I whisper, letting my tail caress his leg. “Mansk, I think I love you.”

His eyes light up at the words. He can’t believe it.

“I love you more.” he whispers, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to mine.

“Not possible.” I add, smiling. My heart is racing and I just want to litter kisses all over him.

“Let me take care of you now.” I whisper, moving my face close to his. He exhales a shaky breath in response, his eyes not leaving mine.

I press our lips together, unable to get enough of him. The taste of me is still lingering on his lips and something about it turns me on even more.

I run my hand down the back of his head before feeling all over his toned torso. My kisses move from his lips to his jaw, before giving attention to the other side of his neck. His heavy breath is fanning against my shoulder and he buries his hot face in the crook of my neck.

My hands slide down, tracing over his v-line and running along the waistband of his pants, making him shiver.

Mansk lets his eyes flutter closed as he focuses on feeling my fingertips caress his skin and near the place he needs me so desperately.

I tuck my fingertips below the waistband and move back slightly to look at him.

“Can I?” I ask, wanting to make sure he was okay with this.

“Fuck yes.” he breathes out and his answer makes me smile.

Slowly, I start to tug his pants down and he leans down on his arms which are on either side of him and lifts his hips up along with me on them. I pull the pants down and let them fall behind me, down his ankles where he kicks them off.

Mansk sighs in relief as his dick is freed from its previous restraints.

I don’t move, staring down between our bodies with parted lips and I feel my mouth start salivating. He was bigger than I would have ever imagined. I’m saying his dick stood up to almost the same height as my stomach.

Mansk notices and his ears droop a little in embarrassment. Good embarrassment. His face was flushed again and he looked mesmerising.

“Don’t be embarrassed, you’re such a beautiful boy.” I say, cupping his cheek and loving his shy reaction. My praise made his heartbeat speed up and it warmed his heart.

The big stone-cold giant had found someone who brought his heart to life.

I reach down in between our bodies, tracing down his now bare abdomen before gently wrapping my hand around the base of his throbbing member. Mansk shudders at the contact, trying to contain his excitement.

I bite my lip, gently stroking him a few times just to test the waters.

Mansk’s shoulders relaxed and his lips parted at the feeling, but his tail was going wild.

I want to show him how much I love him so I start peppering kisses to his shoulder, collarbone and then chest. He sighs in pleasure, letting his head drop forwards again while I keep a slow pace.

I grip his bicep to hold myself against him, my head now resting on his shoulder as I slightly tighten my fist around him and speed up the pace just a tiny bit.

Mansk presses his forehead into my neck, panting against my warm skin. I rub my thumb over his sensitive tip, which I now notice is leaking a few beads of precum and Mansk whimpers, closing his eyes again.

Hearing him make that noise had my stomach twisting in excitement and made me feel needy all over again.

I lean forwards, readjusting myself on his lap when my braid falls over my shoulder. Mansk saw it from the corner of his eye and lifted his head to look. We were both still getting used to our new bodies and that included handling a long piece of braided hair with a nerve cord in it.

Seeing it seemed to spark the same idea in him as it did in me. We knew now how Na’vi connected themselves with Eywa and the creatures of Pandora. They used their queue. It was also roughly known that the same was done for mating between two Na’vi.

Mansk looked up at me and I stared back, thinking about it for a while.

I picked up the end of my braid, examining my hair and then Mansk slowly reached behind him and pulled his braid over his shoulder.

My eyes shot to his one and we exchanged eye contact in silence for a few seconds.

“Do you want to…?” Mansk asks, whispering this time.

I smile. “Mhm.”

“I’m not sure exactly how-”

“It’s fine, I read the manual.” I confirm, knowing most of the team just skipped through the files before we were reborn. The files informing us about our new bodies.

He smiles. Of course, I read it.

I pinch the end of my queue, revealing the nerve strands that move around like tentacles, searching for a source to connect to.

Mansk mirrors my movements, doing the same with his queue. We watch them for a few moments before he brings his closer to mine.

I do the same and we watch as the strands find each other, entangling in one another and forming one strong cord which glows with white light.

We lock eyes and our pupils subtract before blowing wide again as we feel electricity shoot through our bodies. The feeling is slightly overwhelming and it feels like we just gained new senses but I can now feel him and vice versa.

I hold on to him to steady myself and we both breathe through it before Mansk presses his lips to mine. I immediately kiss him back, feeling twice as turned on now.

I shift my hips closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck to hold him close to me. Mansk lets his hands roam my naked body, running them up and down my slightly arched back before attaching one to my breast.

I purr against him, breaking the kiss and rubbing my cheek against his. I’ve never needed to be so close to someone before.

He bucks his hips up, desperately needing to feel some friction or touch and I help him out.

My hand wraps around his shaft again while our formed tsaheylu strand hangs between us.

Mansk inhales sharply and I lift myself up a little, to line him up with my now-aching pussy.

He watches, holding his breath as I rub his tip between my folds, covering it in slick. His hands grip my hips, not pushing me down, but just needing to grab onto something.

Slowly, I ease myself onto him, my hand grasping his shoulder as I close my eyes and focus. Mansk lets out a ragged breath, watching my movement with half-lidded eyes.

I let myself sink down about halfway, taking a few deep breaths just to get used to his size. My body seemed to be extra sensitive and all my senses were activated.

I move up, leaving just his tip inside me before sinking all the way down and bottoming out. Mansk is biting his lip to try and suppress his noises but a whine still leaves him. I gasp, leaning my weight on him. Already, I felt overstimulated.

“You feel so good…” he whispers, his voice hinting to how needy he feels.

“Fuck, sorry. Give me a minute.” I answer, feeling a little lightheaded.

“Don’t fuckin’ apologise. I’d wait for hours if you need me to.” he breathily answers, pulling me against his chest and wrapping his hands around me.

His answer goes straight to my heart and I want to fucking smother him in kisses. “God I love you so much.” I say, kissing him again. The kiss is sloppy because we’re both a little overwhelmed but it feels so good.

After a few moments, I roll my hips making Mansk break the kiss and gasp slightly. I do it a few more times and watch him unfold before me. All tension and stress left his body and he let his head drop into the crook of my neck again.

“Holy fuck-” he mumbles against my skin as I continue my movements.

Then I lift myself up a little again, before lowering myself down. This time it felt more like a thrust because we were both covered in wetness and precum and I got used to his size which hit my cervix every time I bottomed out.

Mansk hisses, his ears flattening back.

Soon, I managed to keep a regular pace and Mansk supported me by lifting my hips with me. One of his hands slid down my hips, gripping my ass before digging into the flesh between my thigh and ass.

“So good.” I mumble, my eyes fluttering closed as I slowly get lost in the feeling. I notice Mansk’s pinned back ears perk up for a second before returning to their previous position. The man lives for praise.

I try to speed it up a little but this whole situation has me overwhelmed and I’m still so sensitive from my last orgasm, my legs starts shaking and giving out. Mansk notices and helps me still my movements.

“You okay?” he asks and I nod, breathing heavily.

“Sorry, I-”

I’m cut off by Mansk lifting me off of him and laying me down on his bed, while our queue’s stay connected. I stare up at him as he turns and climbs on top of me, smirking. Oh, this man was going to be the death of me.

“No apologies.” he whispers, reminding me of his previous words. I gulp, my eyes not leaving his and I nod.

“Let me help.” he whispers, his gruffy voice sounding a little hoarse.

Mansk presses a soft kiss to my cheek, gently pushing my legs open before he lays his hips between them.

He aligns himself with me again before slowly pushing all the way in. Both of us sigh in relief and then Mansk reaches for my hand. He interlocks our fingers before placing our intertwined hand next to my head and leaning against it.

My eyes find his again and he looks at me for permission to move. I nod eagerly and almost instantly, Mansk pulls out and sets the same pace I had before.

I feel a pressure build up in my stomach and I desperately need him to continue so I envelop him in my legs, wrapping them around his hips and pulling him in even further.

“Fuck, yes. Just like that.” I moan, dropping my head back and gripping his shoulder with my free hand.

His eyes widen and he feels almost feral when he hears those words. The fact that he is the one making you feel this good and no one else makes Mansk feel prideful. He was worried you were into Ja, or worse, maybe even Lyle. But all Mansk’s worries were gone because you were in his room, naked on his bed, whimpering and moaning his name while being bonded through tsaheylu with him. This is more than he would even ask for.

“Don’t stop.” I whimpered and he nodded, completely under the spell of lust.

“Yes ma’am.” he whispered and I smiled. It was cute the way he wanted my validation. I liked having such an effect so easily on such a huge man. After all, he was a marine too and followed orders.

I felt my need grow in my core, making my pussy clench ever so slightly around Mansk with every thrust.

The feeling had him over the moon. His eyes were fluttering closed every now and then, always flicking to your face to be met with the wonderful sight of your pleasure flushed expression. Not that he was doing better. Mansk had been down bad since you got here.

“Y/N,” he whimpered, his head dropping down while he continued to role and rut his hips into me. “I’m close…”

“Me too, me too.” I whine, cupping his cheek in comfort while my nails slowly dug into the skin of his back. “It’s okay, keep going.” I add, needing to feel the release again. Mansk seemed desperate for it too.

He sped up his pace just a little and now every thrust felt like pure heaven. His movements became a little sloppy now, indicating he really was close.

“You’re doing so well.” I whine between clenched teeth and he moans in repsonse, slowly losing his mind.

His eyes shoot to mine and I nod, pulling him closer by my arms and legs. Mansk deeply thrusts into me and I come undone. My eyes roll to the back of my head and my mouth drops open while my pussy clenches around him. Mansk thrives between my trembling legs and pushes himself as deep into me as possible before releasing his load. I moan his name over and over again as I feel my body shake and my vision black out for a few seconds. The warmth of his cum feels like heaven to me it makes me lock my legs around him.

Heavy breathing and panting fill the room and I see Mansk’s arms tremble. I pull him down, letting him know it’s okay to lay on me and he follows my movements, gently lowering himself down onto me.

I cradle his head while my other arm halfway wraps around his back. His face is once again buried in the crook of my neck and I press my cheek against his, absolutely thriving with the warmth of his body.

Mansk wraps his arms under my waist, hugging me while still being buried deep inside me.

We stay like that for a few minutes, regaining our breath and enjoying the other’s company and body.

Our tsaheylu’s disconnected and fell apart which Mansk felt. He looked at them before meeting my gaze, the scene reminding him of something.

“Please stay…” he whispers, while giving me the softest puppy eyes ever. I wasn’t going to say no, but now I definitely couldn’t.

“Of course.” I smile, blinking through my teary eyes from the orgasm. “I don’t want to leave.”

“You don’t ever have to.” he replies, smiling at me. I giggle, running my hand through the hair on his head before he kisses me again and carefully rolls off my body. Surprisingly, he manages to stay inside me and doesn’t pull out.

He pulls me onto him this time, so we’re laying chest to chest and I look up at him while resting my chin on his torso.

“Is it okay if we stay like this?” he asks me, rubbing his thumb against my cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I lean into his touch, adjusting myself to get comfortable.

“Yes please.” I answer with a soft chuckle, not wanting to lose the feeling of him inside me. Somehow it was comforting and I’ve never felt better or safer in my life. Being in his arms was the safest place I could be.

“I want to be close to you.” he says, nuzzling his face against the top of my head and I smile again.

“I love you.” I blurt out, wanting to remind him of that because this is definitely the best thing that has happened to me in fucking ages.

His ears perk forwards and the words and he smiles, letting them droop to the sides.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” he says, squeezing me and making me laugh.

We exchange a few more words before Mansk covers us both in his blanket and leans over to turn the light off.

His arms stay wrapped around me and I fall asleep tracing the specks of light and the patterns in his skin.

Tag list : @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

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lays-little-world · 2 years ago

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ZB1 as types of hugs

Hey !!! I want to put out zb1 content. So I got this idea about how the zb1 members would hug their partner and I couldn’t get this thought out of my head. Then I tried to put it in words and that’s the result. I’m quite new to this and I hope that you will like it. Feel free to let me know your thoughts and hopefully you enjoy my content. Here we go.

Jiwoong - straddle hugs

It is safe to say that Jiwoong and you know what’s best for the other one

So when you come home to see him waiting for you, you can only think about embracing him

As it’s quite the routine, you straddle his lap and lean against his upper body where you can finally calm down

Jiwoong slings his arms around you body and sometimes pets over your head

While hugging, you can smell his cologne which makes you feel secure and comfortable

You stay in this position for a while and talk about your day and anything you can think of

You love the intimacy you have and that you can always count on Jiwoong

Zhang Hao - hugs with resting head

Zhang Hao loves to be your protecter in this relationship

He'll be your biggest fan and greatest supporter

He can easily detect when your energy is low and just need to be hugged

So he'll wrap his arm around you torso and let’s you lean your head against his shoulders

That’s when you can finally relax and forget about all the stress and the things that are bothering you

Zhang Hao will gladly listen to all your worries and will do his best to lift your mood and put a smile on your face

Hanbin - cuddle hugs

Although people might not expect it, Hanbin and you enjoy your private time

This is where you can be yourself and feel comfortable

So when you watch a movie while laying on the couch, you start by leaning against each other

But you'll end up bodies cuddled up which you secretly like a lot

You'll start to play with his hands while watching the movie

You love his embrace and it makes you feel loved and like nothing can go wrong

In these times you realize that you couldn’t be luckier to have Hanbin in your life

Matthew - eye to eye hugs

For Matthew, physical affection is a key part in your relationship

He uses it as a tool to make sure that you are alright and content

So after a rather hectic and stressful day, he loves to hug you while looking deep into your eyes

He feels like he can see into the depths of your soul and connected with you

During the hug you feel protected and as if all your worries will just disappear into thin air because you know that Matthew will be there for you

You just love the way Matthew makes you feel at home and understood, like nothing can harm you when he’s by your side

Taerae - bear hugs

Taerae and you know how to balance each other

You don’t have to talk and he knows what made you upset

So he'll give you the tightest bear hug ever that will make you think of nothing else but him

All your worries will wash away and he listens to everything you want to say

You love that a simple act of affection makes you feel protected and at ease

You understand each other without verbally communicating and always know what the other needs

Taerae is your safe space and makes you feel loved and appreciated

Ricky - hugs at the waist

Ricky’s and yours relationship has always been a little flirty

You just have to tease each other all the time

So it’s no surprise that Ricky will eventually get a bit jealous

That’s when he'll put his hands at your waist, pull you close to him and make you look close into his sparkling eyes

Although it’s a quite simple act, this kind of affection will literally make your heart beat a million times faster and let’s you forget everything around you

You just can’t believe that you can call a person like Ricky your own

Gyuvin - hugs with twirling

You can only describe your relationship as goofy and teasing

It’s rare to see a moment when you two aren’t bickering or poking at each other

That’s the reason that when Gyuvin wants to show his affection for you, he just can’t help himself and has to be a little mean

So when he approaches you to hug you, he embraces you tightly and lifts you of the ground

As if that isn’t enough torture, he'll start to spin you around while he laughs his ass off

When he finally let’s you touch the ground again, you can only laugh at your goofy boyfriend and slap his arm as revenge

But all the unexpected and random displays of affection are the reason why you love him so much

Gunwook - catching hugs

Gunwook and you really value the time you spend together

So after not seeing each other for quite a while, all you wanted to do is to be in Gunwook’s embrace and nowhere else

All you could do when you saw him waiting for you, smiling, was to run straight at him

Although he was surprised at the impact, he still caught you and hold you as tight as possible

You nuzzled your head into his neck and wouldn’t dare to let go of him

You realize that you could stay in this moment forever and can’t think of someone that makes you this happy

Yujin - back hugs

Yujin and you are not the biggest fans of affection and showing pda.

Nonetheless, you still love to show your love for one another from time to time

You made it a habit to startle each other

That’s the reason why one of you will sneak up behind the other and wrap their arms around the other’s torso

You especially love the cute gasp Yujin let’s out when you startled him

The sound would always make you laugh and Yujin had no choice but to join the laughter

In the end, you'll stay in this position and just enjoy the presence of each other

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mooodyblue · 1 year ago

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Hi lily I'm having a rough night so i was wondering if it was okay that I request something that will make me feel better.

What about cg!e with a little that HATES change (me) And maybe the big change is E has been home for longer than normal and all of a sudden he has to go back on tour and reader HATES THAT so she has a big meltdown when El tells her he has to go back and he reminds her they have a routine on tour too and that it'll be the same as last time (so not a lot is changing) ?

I hope this makes sense

miss you xo - kiwi

hope u feel better :( <3 ty for the request!! hopefully i can cheer u up a bit with this ~~

pairing: 70s!cg!elvis x gn!little!reader

wc: 942

➸masterlist

elvis knew you never did well with change, so of course when he sat through another tedious meeting with the colonel, you wouldn’t be happy with the news he was just given.

he’d been on a break from touring for a little longer than usual, surprisingly due to doctors orders. he spent a bit of time with you in hawaii then flew back to memphis, getting plenty of alone time with you now that he had a bit of time to take care of little you.

you had a strict everyday routine with him. breakfast together, lunch together, snack time together, and so forth. the two of you always watched cartoons together and he adored watching you play happily in front of him every day. unfortunately, that routine was about to change.

his health wasn’t great, however, it was good enough for the colonel to make him go back on another long US tour. he wished that if he had to suffer through another long, agonizing tour that he’d at least go overseas, but that was just a dream that would never come true. now it left him with the plan of telling you.

he stepped back into his home, immediately being jumped on by you with an excited squeal. he hated that he was about to crush your spirits. “hey, baby. what’re you doin’, huh?” he chuckled, picking you up and kissing your rosy cheeks.

“can we play now, daddy? please?” you begged, giving him sweet, puppy dog eyes.

“ah—darlin’,” he sighed, putting you down and crouching down to make you appear smaller. he took his glasses off and hung them up on his shirt, taking your hands and looking you straight in the eyes. “baby, this is real hard for me to say. i need you to be big ‘n strong for me, alright?”

the look of worry on your face broke his heart. “the colonel says he’s sendin’ me out on another tour. daddy’s goin’ away for a little ‘while.”

you felt like your whole world was about to collapse. an ache in your chest as you realized your life was about to change up again. you loved the routine that the two of you shared. you didn’t do well when things had to change. “no.” you shook your head, “no, daddy. no.” you said sternly.

he wished it was that easy to just say no to the colonel, but he couldn’t. he squeezed your hands again, giving you a sympathetic look. “baby–”

“no!” you pulled away from him, “change is bad, daddy! it’s bad!” you hugged yourself, shaking your head again. “y-you hafta stay! you-you’re my daddy, you can’t….no!” you dropped yourself to the floor, the waterworks already flowing down your cheeks as you began to kick your feet angrily like a helpless toddler—but that’s exactly what you were in your state of mind. he knew it too.

elvis was at a loss for words, unsure of whether he should attempt to calm you down or to let you ride out this meltdown of yours. he got down on the floor with a soft grunt, “hey, hey. c’mon, honey–look at me, look at daddy for a sec.” he cooed softly, trying to take your hands again. your eyes met with his, full of tears and sadness. almost fear, afraid that once the routine changed, everything would just go bad.

“you remember the last time daddy went on tour?” he asked, getting a nod from you in response. “daddy didn’t leave you alone at home, did he?”

“w-well….no…” you muttered.

“that’s right, honey. he didn’t.” the corner of his lip perked up, bringing you close to him as you leaned against his chest. he rocked you on a soothing motion, trying to calm you down to the best of his ability. “you think daddy’s gonna let ya sit at home by yourself this time around?” he shook his head, “ain’t no way, baby.”

he pet your hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to your scalp. “we always have the same routine when we go on tour, don’t we? you just gotta let daddy do what he’s gotta do durin’ the day before we can get to playin’ and snoozin’ all day.”

“b-but i won’t see you as much…” you pouted, looking off into the distance.

“i know, angel. i know. that’s the sucky part, but we get through it every time, don’t we? hm?” he kissed your scalp again, smiling softly. he turned you to face him, using his thumb to wipe the tears off your cheeks. “it took us some time to get into the routine you and i got goin’ on right now. we just gotta get back into the old one. then once tour ends, we come right back to this ol’ routine. think you can handle that?”

you sniffled, wiping your snotty nose with your sleeve as you nodded slowly. “it’s hard.”

“it is, baby. i hate it too. but we gotta do things we don’t like.” he frowned, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “can daddy get a big kiss?”

there was hesitation in your eyes, clearly grumpy and unhappy with the situation. he sighed dramatically, forcing a pout on his face. “c’mon, honey. you that mad at daddy, huh? that mean you don’t love your old man, no more?”

you gasped, “daddy!” you pecked his cheek, cupping his plush cheeks with your small hands. “i still love you, daddy! i promise! i promise!”

he chuckled softly, returning the kiss and ruffling your hair. “that’s my baby.” he grinned, “now, lets get up off this dirty floor and have a lil’ snack.”

#divider by saradika #elvis x reader #nothing more devastating than spending an hour typing out a fic just for it to not even reach 1k words bleh #i have never responded to a request this fast but im trying to do better whenever someone sends one in saying they had a bad day D:#i dont want to see my friends have a bad day and then just post their request that was supposed to make them feel better a month later!!!!#anyway hope you enjoy friend <3

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kaysfanficcorner · 2 years ago

Text

Out of This World Chapter 4:

Smuggler’s Moon

Author’s Note: Welcome everyone! This chapter is one that I’m pretty proud of and I’ve been looking forward to sharing. I had a lot of fun with this one, and sincerely hope you enjoy! A few edits have been made since this was posted, as I realized that I forgot to change something. If you’d like to be added to the Taglist please let me know!

***** = A break in the scene or a switch between character pov.

Summary: Things on Nar Shaddaa take a turn, and the Earthling is forced to take matters into her own hands.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Earthling Reader

Warnings: Cursing, blaster violence, death. This story is strictly 18+

AO3

*****

Spending several hours locked inside the Razor Crest with only the little green kid under your charge and your orange feline is nothing new to you by now. After nearly seventy days of living on the space craft, its quite the normal routine. You’ve stayed put for all of Mando’s hunts thus far, sometimes for days, so doing it now shouldn't be such a huge deal. What is new to you, is the fact that a member of a dangerous alien species might want to eat your brains because you’d agreed to be Mando’s bait.

On top of that, you can’t help but feel as if the events over the last couple of days have led to you feeling much closer to the Mandalorian, so your worry for his safety is more at the surface than you’re used to. Both because you like him and because if something happened to him, you and the kid would be royally screwed stranded on this moon.

Anxious, you find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the open cot when four and a half hours have gone by without a word from your cosmic companion. You’ve been avoiding using the coms to call him for fear of interrupting the hunt, but its getting late. Mando himself said that Smuggler’s Moon is much more dangerous after nightfall, so as soon as the sun sets you feel incredibly perturbed. The beauty of Nal Hutta’s rings in the dark sky isn’t even enough to ease your mind.

Inside the cot, the kid is curled up in your black blanket looking cozy as ever. His facial expression, however, is anything but cozy. Ears cast downward, your nanny child looks up at your pacing with worry in his large eyes and a frown on his little mouth. When you stop to look down at him, he makes a noise of displeasure.

“Yeah I don’t like this either, kiddo,” you agree, eyes flicking to the com-link on your wrist, “I should just call him, right?”

The kid responds with a little babble, and you nod.

“Call him it is,” you say with a sing-song tone of fake cheerfulness. “Hopefully this isn’t a bad time.”

Holding your wrist up in front of your face, you click the call button and a little beeping noise goes off after a second. “Mando?” You ask tentatively.

“Is everything alright?” Mando’s handsome voice filters through, immediately calming your nerves a little.

“Yeah we’re fine, I was just checking on you,” you say back, sitting down on the edge of the cot while leaning back to run a gentle hand over the kid’s mildly hairy head. “The kid misses you.”

“Just him, huh?” There’s a lightly comedic tone to the Mandalorian’s voice, and you can’t help but think he sounds flirtatious.

“I mean, I guess I do too.” Quipping back with an air of flirtation yourself, you allow yourself a moment to enjoy the feeling this stirs in you. Then you force your voice to grow a little more serious, “It’s getting late, is it sketchy out there?”

Crackling filters through the speaker at first, followed by his voice again, “Nothing I can’t handle, but there’s no sign of the Anzat anywhere. I’m on my way back to the ship now. We can try again tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan. Come back home and rest.” You say, content with the knowledge that he’s coming back in spite of your unease with the Anzat being out there somewhere. It won’t occur to you until much later that you’d used the word home to describe the ship.

“Mm,” he responds with a pleasant sounding hum. The com-link makes anther beeping noise, and he’s gone.

About fifteen minutes or so later, the hatch of the Razor Crest opens and the familiar glint of silver heading up the ramp fills your stomach with butterflies and your chest with relief. The baby coos happily and jumps down from the cot, running on his little legs to meet his foster father as the ramp is closing again. Mando squats down to scoop up the kid in his arms, hugging him to his chest in a fatherly embrace as he stands to full height again.

“Hey buddy. Yeah, I’m back. It’s okay,” Mando soothes as the child nestles into him. Then the helmet turns slightly to fix upon you. “Thank you. For keeping him safe.”

“He’s my top priority,” you say, “but you’re welcome.” Jupiter is circling your legs, so you squat down to pick her up with a chuckle. “Jupiter helped too. I’m pretty sure she loves him more than she loves me at this point.”

The two of you just stand there for a moment, each of you holding your respective well-loved creatures as you stare at one another.

After a beat, Mando sits the kid on a crate and starts to strip himself of his weapons. Letting Jupiter jump from your arms, you move to stand beside him and unstrap the blaster from your thigh before handing it to him to be hung up.

“So am I going out with you again tomorrow?” You ask, tilting your head to look up at him.

The Mandalorian nods, hanging your blaster next to his. “If you’re up for it.”

“I am. I saw a few things I’d Ike to check out if I can,” you reply.

“Hungry?” He asks, turning to face you once his weapons are all put away in their proper places.

Holding a hand to your stomach you grin, “Starving.”

“Would you like to assist me? I could show you how to prepare some of the vegetables we bought today.” His voice sounds so lovely, and what he suggests is so domestic that your heart melts a little.

“I’d love that,” you nod, “If I’m being completely honest, listening to you explain stuff is kinda my new favorite thing.” You’re so sure of yourself up until the words leave your mouth, but once they do you’re feeling slightly bashful all of the sudden. Mando’s very being is doing things to you that you haven’t felt in such a long time. It feels ironically alien, as if you’ve completely forgotten how to act in front of someone you’re attracted to.

But then Mando surprises you with his own words as they mirror yours, and the trepidation in you melts away.

His head tilts in that way that you love so much, “If I’m being completely honest, I enjoy providing you with new information more than you know.”

And so you cook with him, standing shoulder to shoulder in the tiny galley area as he explains some of the meager spices he has on hand. Where each one comes from, what its made of, and what combinations work best together. Then he shows you how to work what is essentially a hot plate that he rigged up himself using spare parts. He explains that his ship was not designed for long term living or luxury, it had been designed for military use. So in order to make it livable, Mando has been making little upgrades here or there over the years to make the Razor Crest into a sort of mobile home.

A silly thought crosses your mind while you are thinking about this, eliciting a snort and a laugh from you.

Mando’s head turns from focusing on sautéing the blue tinted broccoli-like vegetable matter, to focusing on you. His body language is some of the most relaxed you’ve seen from him despite where the four of you are and the hunt that still needs to take place.

His baritone chuckle filters through the helmet’s modulator, “What could possibly be funny?”

“I’ve told you about the vehicles we drove on Earth, right?” You ask, still laughing at yourself all the while. He nods, so you continue, “Well some people had these huge recreational vehicles that encompassed very tiny living spaces to make long term travel more comfortable. We called them mobile homes, or RVs. It just occurred to me that the Razor Crest is your version of a RV. I’m gonna call it the Space RV from now on.”

The mental image of Mando and the kid sitting in the front seat of an old 80’s Winnebago is so hilarious that it makes you cackle, throwing a hand onto Mando’s shoulder as you lean your head back and hold your stomach with the opposite appendage. It's not lost on you that he freely allows the touch. What really gets you, though, is that you imagine both Mando and the kid with little Mickey Mouse ears as if they’re driving back from Disney World. Mando’s helmet with big black mouse ears on top is such a ridiculous notion.

The Mandalorian looks to where the kid is sitting on a tall stack of crates in order to be level with the two adults, shaking his silver head. “Do you understand why she thinks that’s so funny? No? Yeah neither do I, kid.”

When you finally stop laughing, wiping a stray tear from your left eye, you let go of Mando’s shoulder to stand up straight again. “Oh man, that was great. My cheeks hurt from laughing so hard.”

“Such a strange woman,” Mando says pleasantly, chuckling again.

“You like it,” another bout of courage emerges from within you.

“I do,” he agrees softly, leaving you a smiling mess.

In an effort not to over do the flirting too quickly, you redirect your attention to the kid. As much as you’re enjoying this new level of banter between yourself and the Mandalorian, it’s probably best to ease off a little.

“What do you think about it, Green Bean?” Scooping the child up into your arms, you swing him a around a few times before dancing to and fro while you bounce him. Humming one of his favorite Earth songs as you boop your nose into his, the kid squeals with delight and grins up at you.

“You’re talented with him. Do you want one of your own one day?” Mando suddenly asks, voice earnest.

“A kid?” Halting your movements, you look down into the huge dark brown eyes of your nanny child and run a finger along one of his long ears. His mouth opens and closes as he babbles. “Honestly? If I have to give birth to it, the answer is no. Pregnancy, or rather the idea of having to go through it myself, has always made me super uncomfortable. I don't think I would enjoy the changes to my body. It freaks me out to think about it too much. I’ve always said I’d adopt a child if I had the right partner to do it with, though. There are too many little ones out there in need of a loving family. Having a biological offspring isn’t important to me in the slightest.”

“That’s a noble way to look at it,” Mando says after a moment. “Any foundling would benefit from having a mother like you.”

“Thank you for saying that.” Your heart swells at the compliment, and to hear him speak of you in such a way. “You’re great with the kid too, Mando. You’d make a wonderful dad.”

The Mandalorian suddenly sounds vaguely dejected, his shoulders dropping slightly. “I appreciate that.”

You frown, noticing his change in demeanor. “You okay?”

Coming to stand directly in front of you, Mando reaches a gloved hand out to stroke the kid’s head and the t shape of the visor fixes on you. You cant help but feel like he's looking you right in the eye as he says, “Just don’t want to think about the day he’s not here anymore.”

The two of you look down at the little green baby, waves of sadness washing over you. Mando’s probably feeling something similar, if not worse. The kid babbles and wiggles his clawed hands around, adding to the conversation in his own little way.

Your eyes flick back up to the black visor, and your hand unconsciously rises to cup the side of the beskar as if you’re cupping Mando’s actual cheek. He doesn’t flinch or try to stop you from touching the helmet. This is the first time you’ve ever felt it’s cold exterior on your fingertips. “Then don’t think about it right now. Just enjoy him. Enjoy this time with your foundling.”

After handing the child to the Mandalorian, its very clear that he’s having a deeply emotional moment. The way he gently presses his helmet to the child’s forehead while holding him in such a loving manner causes you to get misty eyed. Staying quiet, you move to finish up with the meal. Mando already completed most of the work, so there’s not much left to do anyway.

A somber silence falls upon the Razor Crest as you stir the blue vegetables and Mando rocks his foster son back and forth.

*****

The following morning Din wakes up to the sound of your soft humming. His helmet is on, he’s in the cot with the door open, his gloves are off, and he’s holding the sleeping child to his chest.

You’re on the other end of the room in the galley making a pot of caf, and since you haven’t noticed that he’s awake yet, Din takes a moment to appreciate your appearance. With messy hair in a heap above your head and very little clothing, you’re a sight to behold. On your torso you have on a dark purple sleeveless garment that covers your breasts but not much else, and on your bottom half you have on a pair of black pants which only reach down to mid thigh. Your socked feet are hip width distance apart and you’re bouncing on the balls of your bare feet as you wait for the caf to finish brewing.

Just as Din is ready to alert you of his presence, you bend at the waist with your chest to your thighs and let your arms dangle below your head. You take a few deep breaths in this position and then you crawl your hands out in front of you and your body takes on an upside down V shape. After taking more deep breaths you extend one leg into the air before bringing the leg down in front of you. With knee and ankle behind each wrist, your other leg slides straight back behind you. You hinge at the waist and bend your body forward, forehead resting on stacked palms.

He’s seen you do this yoga exercise before, but on this particular occasion Din is completely mesmerized by it. Your flexibility and the possibilities of such a skill cause his mind to wander to unsavory places.

Then the child stirs with a loud noise, and the inappropriate trance is broken.

“Morning, boys,” you say from the floor, never once breaking the stillness of your pose.

“Good morning,” Din replies, yawning softly after. The kid gets up and climbs across Din’s body before he hops down from the cot, moving over to where you’re changing poses.

“Hi, Green Bean. Just give me a sec and I’ll love on ya.” You’re finishing out the same pose but on the other side, and the kid ignores you by climbing onto your back anyway. You don’t move, but your chuckles shake him around a little. “Alright that works too, dude.”

As Din pries himself from the cot, he looks down to where your blanket and pillow are in a heap just outside on the floor. It had been made into a makeshift little sleeping spot the night before.

“Did you sleep okay there?” He asks, stretching his arms out as he stands to full height.

“Yeah I slept fine enough. This whole Anzat thing is a little creepy so was just nice to be close to you both.” You reply, pushing yourself up with the child still sitting on your back as if he’s riding a blurrg. Slowly, he begins tipping to the left and his whole body inevitably starts to follow.

Din grabs him just as he’s about to slide off of you, and you take the opportunity to stand up again. “You can have the next turn in the cot,” Din says, watching you stretch your arms up over your head and trying desperately not to focus on your breasts for too long.

“I wont say no,” you groan a little and move a hand to your lower back, “I was doing yoga for a reason.”

He's struck with an idea, acting on impulse as he voices it out loud, “Perhaps when we are done with this I’ll see about getting a second cot put in.”

Din watches you carefully as he makes this suggestion, knowing full well that it’s an invitation for you to stay on the Razor Crest for as long as you want. He wants to see if your reaction is as positive as he hopes it will be, and he’s not disappointed.

Your eyes widen slightly and your mouth drops open into a wide grin, “Really?”

“If you’re going to stick around for a while, you’re going to need a proper place to sleep.” Din’s own grin is spread across his features under the beskar.

To Din’s surprise you say nothing to that, instead closing the distance between the two of you by hugging him around the waist, careful not to bump into the kid who’s still in Din’s left arm. His right arm hugs you back a little after only a slight moment of hesitation. A beep suddenly goes off in the galley then, causing you to pull away from him sooner than he would have liked. Looking up at Din with a content smile, you kiss the green child atop his little head before moving to go deal with divvying up the liquid. The tender sight of it is almost too much for him.

With your back to Din, you look over your shoulder slightly and ask, “Caf?”

“Please,” Din agrees with an almost dreamy voice, chest so full after such an innocent display of affection towards his foster son. He’s well aware that he’s allowing himself to become entirely too attached to you, but at this point he’s not sure that it’s something he can help.

You bring him a steaming cup, motioning that you’d like to take the kid with your own cup in hand. “I’m going to hang out upstairs so you can have some privacy. The cat’s already up there, so come on, kiddo.”

Din doesn’t want you to go, so he reaches out a bare hand to grab your forearm. His thumb gently runs along the inside of your wrist a little. “You don’t have to.”

“I’m not comfortable invading your space.” You counter, frowning a little. Clearly, you’re confused as to what Din means.

Din thinks for a moment, feeling incredibly conflicted about wanting to be able to do something as simple as share a morning caf with his friend while not actually having that luxury. Then an idea strikes him and he hands you the kid, pulling up a rectangular crate. “Sit here,” he says, motioning towards one edge.

Looking skeptical, you comply regardless and Din moves to sit on the other side of the crate with his back against yours. The two of you are pressed into each other while facing in opposite directions.

“Are you sure about this?” Your voice is clearly shocked by his suggestion, and he looks back to make sure you’re keeping the kid facing in the same direction away from him.

“I won’t lift it higher than my mouth,” Din assures you, “Before you came to stay with us, I used to do this while the kid was in the room and he never saw my face. I’ll be careful.”

You stay quiet for a moment before Din hears you take a deep breath and let it out, accompanied with a pleasant sounding noise before you respond. “I promise that I won’t turn around until you give it the all clear. He won’t either, I’ll keep a close eye on him.”

With that, you lean more of your weight into his back as you get comfortable and Din can hear you take a long sip from your steaming cup with a contented sigh.

So he lifts the base of his beskar helmet just enough to take a lengthy drink from his own cup, a warm contented feeling flowing through him along with the warmth of the caf running down his throat.

*****

A few hours later, you find yourself back on the streets of Nar Shaddaa with the Mandalorian never more than a foot or two away from you. This time you’ve donned the new clothes you purchased the day before, and its a look you could find yourself getting used to. Back on Earth you’d been so worried about what people thought of you that you rarely dressed in a way that suited your inner personality, even with the attempts you’d been making to break yourself of the toxic mentality that sprouted in your youth.

Living in this galaxy, indescribably far away from anyone who ever knew you, life feels more free than you ever thought possible. Here you feel more able to be your most authentic self, to present yourself in a way that fits in with the version of you that you’d like to be. It’s invigorating.

Following Mando, face once again hidden beneath the black hood from the day before and blaster strapped to your new suspenders, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be in this juncture of your life. The idea of staying in this galaxy, of flying off on adventures to random planets with your cosmic companion and his alien kid, feels so right that the back of your head tingles as something akin to exhilaration flows through you. It’s beginning to sound like the most appealing option at your disposal, despite how the littlest part of you is still very conflicted. What’s going to change between the two of you if the kid leaves? Palatable fear of heartbreak is prevalent in your thoughts, heartbreak if the kid isn’t around anymore and if Mando never reciprocates your feelings.

Do I want this for the right reasons? You ask yourself, watching the Mandalorian guide you trough the crowds that somehow seem bigger than they had the day before. He’s playing a major role in why you can see yourself staying, whether you’d like to admit it or not. You don’t want your life to revolve around another person, but instead for his presence to become complimentary to your own.

Mind wandering to the morning, how it felt to sit back to back with him while enjoying your morning drink together, another thought crosses the forefront of your mind. To Hell with the right reasons. You’ve over thought every decision in your life and that’s why you haven’t done anything with it. This could be your chance to finally live.

Watching the man you’ve grown very fond of weave in and out through the swells of various species bustling around, you can’t help but grin widely. When he'd made a comment about having another cot put in for you, it was clearly an invitation to stay. Thinking about a life, a real one where your perpetual sense of autopilot is finally turned off, with the Mandalorian by your side leaves you a giddy mess.

The Mandalorian in question suddenly turns to check on you then, and you’re sure the look of giddiness on your slightly hidden features is not mistaken for anything else.

“What are you smiling about?” He asks, stopping off to the side of the foot traffic to lean over you. You're caught, but you're not upset about it.

“Oh, you know, this and that,” you reply with a flirty tone, still grinning.

“Mm,” he hums, helmet dipping closer. “What was it you wanted to do today?”

“Well this may sound silly,” you start bashfully, and he cuts you off.

Head tilting to the left, Mando’s voice drops a little so that only you can hear him. “You don’t have to preface what you want with an excuse. Ask.”

Although it’s a little hard for you to be upfront about what you want, you take a deep breath and look right into the visor where his eyes should to be. “I’d like to get art supplies for the kid and I’d like to get my hair cut. It’s too long to properly manage without the right products and it’s been driving fucking me nuts for the last couple of weeks.”

His voice is clearly surprised. “Oh. Sure, you can do that.”

“I have no idea where to go, do they even have places like that here?” You ask, feeling awkward about getting a haircut in a place like Nar Shaddaa even though it was your idea to begin with. Hopefully this isn’t about to be a huge disaster that you’ll have to live with for a the next several months.

“Yes there’s actually a place up ahead. Will this take long?” Mando asks, and you shake your head.

“I mean maybe an hour tops if there’s no wait.” You reply, yelping when your shoulder is roughly bumped by a pedestrian who walks a little too close. Shooting a glare in the person’s direction makes you feel slightly better, but you look back to Mando with irritation in your voice. “Damn, that guy could have said excuse me or something.”

Mando watches the person closely for a few moments before his attention falls back onto you. “Would you be comfortable with it if I take care of a few things while you’re in there? I won't stray far. I’ll be done before you so I can grab the things for the kid, and I’ll wait for you outside until you’re finished.”

“Works for me,” you agree, waving your wrist carrying the com-link around. “I’ll call if I need you.”

“Likewise,” he says.

*****

Din is almost certain that the man who’d bumped into you is not entirely human, and so a red flag goes off in his head as soon as he gets a good look at the guy. Although Din can't be sure why, something about his face is just off. Particularly his slightly flared, bulbous nose and grayish skin tone. On top of this, the collision had been no accident. The man had deliberately knocked his shoulder into yours. If Din were to bet on it, his credits would be on this man to be the suspected Anzat.

But why would he make his presence known on purpose? The only reason Din can surmise is that the Anzat is also hunting, and that had been some form of tactic on his end. Din wishes desperately that he hadn’t been foolish enough to take a bounty puck for a species that he only carries very basic knowledge of.

He could be endangering the kid and he could be endangering you. And why? Just because he’s confident in his abilities both as a warrior and a hunter? But what if that’s not enough?

Regardless, Din decides not to alert you to any immediate threat as he drops you off at the beauty shop. Once he’s sure that you’ll be there for the next hour or so, he heads out into the crowded market in search of the possible Anzati man. Din hopes to Maker that leaving you on your own isn’t a huge mistake, but the likelihood of the bounty trying something in such a public place is very slim.

The better part of a half hour goes by, leaving Din with no trace of the man he’d seen earlier. He picks up some art supplies for the kid per your request when he stumbles across a small stand for it, along with a few personal items for himself at another, but he’s never not on high alert.

Which is why it startles him some when a vaguely familiar voice interrupts his current train of thought.

“Oh, so the Mandalorian is back,” it’s the elderly Twi’lek from the day before. Somehow Din’s ended up back in front of the jewelry stand. “Where’s your wife?”

“Not my wife,” he says curtly.

“Whatever she is to you then, where is she?” The woman croaks, coughing after.

“What does it matter?” Din responds, turning to walk away from the old shopkeeper entirely.

“She must be important. A man paid me a lot of money to tell him where the two of you went yesterday.” She smirks, “If you meet his price I’ll tell you where I last saw him. I’ll even throw in that cheap necklace your woman was admiring for free.”

Din’s spine straightens, muscles tightening. He turns back to face the Twi’lek with loose morals and moves to stand in front of her. “How much?”

“Fifty,” she says evenly, and Din drops half the amount of credits on the table without hesitation. She looks down at it with a scoff, then back up to the Mandalorian with a scowl. “That’s twenty five.”

Protecting the ones he cares about is his only priority in this moment. His hackles are more than raised. Din squares his shoulders and fixes her with a glare beneath the beskar. “If you told him where we were going then you don’t deserve anything at all. I’m being more than generous.”

The old woman fixes Din with a hard stare before her features melt back down to uninvested and she shrugs her shoulders, looking away. “Suit yourself.”

Din carefully sets his blaster down on the table and points it at her, voice low and even as he leans forward. “I wouldn’t kill an old woman, but I would definitely ruin her afternoon.”

Green hands in the air as a sign of surrender, the woman shakes her head. “Fine, I’ll take the twenty-five.”

Din puts the blaster back in its holster while she scoops up the credits and stows them away in a pocket. The Mandalorian continues to glare at her, hoping that his body language is getting his anger across. “Speak.”

“I told him that you were going back to your ship. I heard you name the vessel when you walked off with her. He passed by here again earlier today, but I did not speak to him.” Her unhelpful response makes Din want to shout, but he stays cool.

“Do you know anything else about him? Where he went after you saw him?”

“He went down towards the food stands. That’s all I know. But I’ll tell you this: I think he’s not human.” Shaking her wrinkled head, she repeats the last statement. “Definitely not human.”

Din stands to full height again, turning his back to the woman. “Thanks,” he says, wanting to add a ‘for nothing’ but decides not to.

But then her voice picks up again so he stops. “If I’m right, you might want to be careful. His kind can control the minds of others in order to get what they want. Some kind of genetic ability.”

Stomach turning, a suddenly nauseous Din Djarin processes this information while deciding that he is, indeed, a fool. He’s got to get you back to the ship as soon as possible.

On his way out from under the Twi’lek’s canopied stand, he sees the planet necklace you’d admired the day before and he pauses to look back at the old woman with his hand hovering over it.

“Go ahead, I’ve got a whole crate of those. It’s shiny junk.” She waves him off, turning her attention to something mundane on the table

Din pockets the necklace and starts to head back in your direction when his com-link beeps.

“Hey, Chrome Dome. I’m almost done, where are you?” Your voice filters into his helmet’s speakers.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Stay put.” Din’s on edge, and knows that he probably sounded as much to you.

“Copy that,” your reply comes, and with a another little beep your voice is gone.

Din takes off in your direction briskly, well aware that the Anzat could be close by. This is man a hunter and Din knows the language of a hunter better than any of the many languages he can speak.

He rounds a corner after a long five minutes of dipping and dodging, and Din sees you standing with your back to him in front of the beauty shop. Your hood is up but when he recognizes your body and clothes right away, a sense of relief washes over him. The Anzat may be close but now that Din has you he can get you back to the kid and deal with the brain-eater in the only way he knows best.

When he approaches and you turn to face him, pulling back the hood once you realize it’s him, you barely look like yourself for the first few seconds he’s observing you. Din says your name in a questioning tone and then adds a stunned, “wow,” when he truly takes in the sight of you.

Your wild hair, once long and unruly, is cut nearly as short as his own hair is beneath the helmet. It’s the shortest in the back and gets longer in the front, with wavy pieces falling elegantly across your forehead. On top of such a drastic change, the natural color has been altered to a very dark shade of purple.

Din is so floored that he momentarily forgets that there’s danger afoot, wishing that he could reach a bare hand out to touch it.

“I’m obsessed,” you say with a grin as you reach up to move it around on your forehead a little, clearly more than happy with the results. “They used some guck from a morogian snap plant to dye it. Apparently the color will hardly ever fade, and it didn't take as long as a dye job back home. I know the length is drastic but I've always wanted a cut like this. I would have been way too self conscious to try hair like this on Earth, but I’m so happy that I went for it.” Then your face suddenly becomes bashful, voice taking on a timid tone. “You like it?”

“Mesh’la,” Din breathes, then quietly adds on for your benefit, “beautiful. Mando’a for beautiful.”

Cheeks flushing, you dip your head in a nod. “Thank you, ner burc’ya.”

Then you notice the bag he’s carrying and ask if he got the supplies for the kid, and Din snaps back into reality. The effect you have on him is worrisome if it can distract him this much.

“I need to get you back to the Razor Crest. We may have a problem.”

*****

Ranik A’kazz follows the woman and the Mandalorian all afternoon, attempting to break into the woman’s foul smelling mind for most of it. She appears to be the weaker of the pair, and so he assumes that entering her mind will be one of the easiest attempts he’s ever made.

Ranik assumes wrong. No matter how close he gets, he cannot break into the mind of the woman to save his life. It must be whatever is wrong with her that makes her smell so awful. Perhaps where she comes from is a tainted place.

No matter the reason, Ranik is unsuccessful and must give up. Even though it pains him to have attempted it, he cannot even break in after making physical contact out on the street. Touch usually creates an instant link, and this results in nothing whatsoever. Having to touch her is indescribably awful for Ranik, offending every single one of his senses.

After Ranik realizes he will not be able to break into the woman, he knows he must attempt to break into the Mandalorian.

Then the pair goes their separate ways and he follows the Mandalorian from higher up, using his excellent skills in agility to climb along some of the buildings. Ranik watches as he stops to speak to the old crone at the jewelry stand again. The bounty hunter pays her for information regarding Ranik himself, and then moves on to find his woman again.

Ranik drops down once the Mandalorian is out of sight, moving swiftly to the jewelry stand. The old crone doesn’t even get out a word before Ranik puts a silenced blaster to her head and pulls the trigger.

*****

Stomach in knots, you’ve got an uneasy feeling in the pit of your gut all the way back to the ship. The Mandalorian is booking it, so you really have to pick up the pace in order to keep up. Once you're inside and you know that the kid and Jupiter are still safe, the uneasy feeling doesn’t subside.

Out of breath, you pant, “Mando, please be careful," while looking up at him with a grimace. “I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is gonna happen.”

“I’m always careful,” Mando replies. You think he must have really noticed the contorted look on your face because he quickly adds, “I promise I’ll be as careful as I can. You be safe and take care of the kid.”

“I promise,” you say almost sadly, holding on to yourself.

Then the Mandalorian surprises you by closing the distance between you and placing a hand on your shoulder. Leaning forward, he gently rests his beskar clad forehead to yours. The metal is so cold, your nose fogging up the visor a little as you realize that his eyes, his face, it’s all so close to you.

What you wouldn’t give to kiss him.

“I’ll be back,” he says after a long moment.

“You better,” you reply seriously.

Then you break apart, and he reminds you that the com-link is still open and you’re welcome to use it if you need him. You know to use it sparingly if he’s on the hunt, but the fact that you have it at your disposal is a welcome comfort.

Mando scoops up the kid for a little hug before handing the baby over to you, he pats the cat on the head, and then he makes his way down the ramp of the ship. He turns to look at you as the hatch closes back up. You hate seeing him slowly disappear, and you hate how vulnerable you suddenly feel without his presence.

Sighing, you take the baby and the cat back over to the cot so you can shut the three of you inside while hoping for the best end result to this situation. Of course you bring the blaster in with you, just to be safe. Although you're still not a great shot, the practicing you’ve been doing with Mando has paid off considerably. You’re much better than you were a few weeks ago.

There you spend the next hour fiddling around nervously on the iPad while checking the com-link every couple of minutes. The kid is preoccupied with your new hairstyle for a little bit but after a while he’s clearly getting bored, restless, and worried for his foster dad. It’s getting on your nerves a little but you don’t feel comfortable leaving the cot just yet. He’s fussy and on edge just like you are, and for that you cannot blame him.

Suddenly, causing you to jump, the com-link goes off. The baby looks down at your wrist with a concerned look on his face, ears casting downward.

“Hunt is almost complete,” Mando’s voice filters through, but something about it sounds completely off. Your heart sinks with dread. “I’ll be back soon.”

Perhaps you feel as if he’s off because you’re not used to speaking over coms when he’s on high alert. Perhaps nothing is wrong. But the day before he'd sounded almost playful with you, and this barely sounds like him at all. You respond with, “Copy that,” and he goes radio silent again.

Within fifteen minutes you can hear the hatch of the Razor Crest open back up and relief floods your system. This entire situation has you so unnerved, and you’re looking forward to being done with it.

When you hear the ramp shut again, you press the little button beside the cot door and the thing slides up to open. The smile you were planning to greet your friend with drops upon seeing the scene before you.

Mando is walking towards you with his hands behind his head, and he’s being followed closely by a man you’ve never seen before holding an open hand out towards Mando’s back. Instinctively, you move your entire body in front of the open cot to hide the kid.

“Can I help you?” You ask sarcastically, eyeing the stranger with a narrowed expression of distrust.

The man has a round bulbous nose, grayish skin, and seemingly human looking features. Long brown hair tied back and tan colored clothing make him look less harmless than he actually seems to be. If he has Mando held up, he’s clearly dangerous.

“So you’re the one who smells so repugnant,” the man says, holding back an obvious gag as he speaks to you with a strange accent.

You snort, trying your best to play it cool even though you're losing it inside. “Aww shit, I knew I forgot to put on deodorant today. Thanks, dickhead. What do you want?”

His facial expression changes from that of revolted, to one of obscene pleasure. “The child behind you, madam.”

You look down to see the kid peeking out from behind your legs. The cat comes out of the cot as well, hissing violently at the intruder.

“Fat chance, dude. Mando, what’s going on here?” You address your cosmic companion, but he doesn’t answer. Nor does he move a muscle.

“The Mandalorian is under my thumb for the time being, I’m afraid.” With that, the man waves his hand and Mando drops down to his knees with a painful sounding thud. If he felt any pain from that, he makes no obvious show of it. The stranger continues, “My name is Ranik. I am the bounty your friend here was looking for.”

Okay, so the Anzat has mind control powers. Although you’re absolutely terrified, an adrenaline fueled maternal instinct to protect the child takes over and allows you remain calm on the outside.

“Cool, not nice to meet you. You’re not taking our kid.” You reply evenly, fully aware of the phrasing.

“Oh but I think I am. There’s nothing you or your friend can do to stop me.” He then moves his hand away from Mando, who fully drops to the ground in a heap, and instead points his open palm out towards you.

A small prickling feeling starts at the back of your head, but that’s all that ever comes and it quickly fizzles back out. It feels just like an odd sensation you’d felt earlier that day in the market, the realization of what that means washing over you. He'd been watching you the whole time.

Ranik seems to grow frustrated by this, “What species are you? Your brain chemistry is unlike anything I’ve ever come across. Your soup is abhorrent.”

“Human,” you bite back, “but I guess where I’m from we’re built differently.” Taking a chance, you glance down at the kid and then to the blaster still strapped to your hip.

“Regardless, I’ll be taking my meal now.” Ranik draws out, and to your sickening horror fleshy tentacle like things begin to wiggle out of from little holes on either side of his face.

The protruding gray flesh is appalling. When you imagine him using those to kill the child you’ve come to love, your stomach turns and your anger flourishes.

On the ground Mando groans, curling up into a fetal position while cradling his helmeted head in his hands. He’s not going to be any help any time soon, and you quickly realize that this situation is entirely on you to handle.

Just as you’re trying to figure out what to do next, Ranik’s hand moves down to point at the kid. Struggling to fight back, the green toddler puts his own hand up and closes his big brown eyes. His little arm begins shaking, and then his eyes open again. They seem to be glazed over, his arm dropping to his side as he starts mindlessly scooting out from behind your legs.

Ranik has a mental hold over him. You do not allow yourself to panic, though, grabbing the blaster from your thigh and flicking the safety off just as Jupiter launches herself at Ranik. He cries out in anger as she digs her claws into his leg an bites down, batting her off of him with a force you do not appreciate. She’s unscathed, but he knocks her back a good five feet and your blood boils.

Seething between your teeth and scared out of your mind, you hold the blaster just the way the Mando taught you. “You’ve got one more chance to fuck off. I suggest you take it.”

The kid is nearly to Ranik now, the sickening tendrils from his face whipping around wildly. Almost as if the tendrils themselves are excited at the prospect of a good meal.

Ranik goes to bend over in order to pick up the child, and you fire. The first shot misses and Ranik stands up, angrily regarding you.

“Your presence is becoming tedious, foul woman.” He spits, forgetting the child just long enough for you to fire again.

This time the blast hits him directly in the chest and you let out a scream of rage. You fire multiple times, peppering him with shots until he drops to the floor. Shaking all over, you run over to where the Anzat lay bleeding. He twitches, tendrils still waving around wildly as he makes little sputtering noises. Then he begins to pick himself back up, coughing up oddly colored blood all the while.

Without a second thought, you put the blaster to his head and pull the trigger.

Ranik crashes back down to the floor, the sick realization that you’ve just killed someone washing over your body. The blaster falls from your grasp with a loud clunk on the ground, and you drop down onto your hands and knees. Dry heaving, you hold your stomach as you sob wildly.

“What have I done?” Saying this over and over again, you fall over onto your right side in a fetal posisiton.

Mando’s voice is in your ears then, saying your name. It’s weak, but he sounds like himself again. “Ugh, my head,” he groans painfully, attempting to pull himself up with shaky arms.

“Mando?” Your sobbing subsides for a moment when your need to check on him takes over, crawling over to where he’s trying to gain his bearings. The kid is sitting up next to his foster father, blinking wildly while holding onto his own head with little claws, face scrunching up in pain. Laying a hand on Mando’s beskar plated chest, you touch the forehead of his helmet with the other as you peer down into the visor.

“Wha- what happened?” He asks, shaking his head around. Once he’s able to sit up again, his breathing is heavy and strained. You break apart and slide back a little.

“I killed him,” you say quietly, arms holding onto each other as your rock yourself.

“Shit,” Mando curses, saying your name again and again followed by a string of apologies.

Jupiter comes over to sniff at the three of you, ensuring that the humans and her little green friend are still in tact, before hissing down at the body of the Anzat and scampering off. When you down look at his lifeless face, long tendrils still hanging limply from his cheeks, you fall onto your back as you panic once again.

The child waddles over to you and places a tiny hand on your forehead, and you start to sob even more hysterically at the thought of what would have happened if you hadn’t just killed someone. You grab him and hug him to your chest tightly, “I’ve got you, little Green Bean. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Then, for the second time in your life, you pass out.

*****

Several hours later, you awake in the cot with your blanket draped over you and Jupiter sleeping by your side. Head pounding in painful waves and body dripping with sweat, confusion fills your mind as to why you’re in bed and why you feel so horrendous. You sit up as if your body weighs a ton, and you finally understand what people really mean when they claim to feel as if they’d been hit by a truck.

“Mando?” Calling out for the Mandalorian, you peer around your view of the first floor for a moment before your eyes land on an oddly colored stain on the floor and the memory hits you like a brick. You see every moment of it play out before you, seeing the Anzat die by your hand as pang of nausea drops through your belly.

“Oh, fuck,” you exclaim, taking a few deep breaths with your eyes closed in order to try and clam yourself down.

Suddenly Mando’s voice is filling your with the sound of your name on his tongue, and your eyes snap open. He’s crouching in front of the cot, watching you closely. The cat jumps down and runs off.

“Mando, I-I,” your lip begins to quiver as you stutter off.

“I’m very sorry that you had to do that,” he says gravely.

“I can’t believe I killed someone.” Your body starts to twitch and convulse with the anxiety of it.

His shoulders square a little as he shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have had to. It’s my fault for taking this quarry. Taking a life for the first time is something that will be with you for a long time, but you protected the child, and for that I can’t thank you enough.”

“Where is he?” You’re asking about the kid.

“Sleeping in the pod over there. He’s worn out but he’s okay. Unfortunately this sort of thing isn’t new for him.” Mando responds, gesturing to where the closed pod is sitting on the floor nearby.

Thinking about how devastated the two of you would be if the child had been killed instead of the Anzat, some of the guilt you feel subsides and your nervous system evens out a little. You know that you may never not feel guilty for taking a life, but you were defending an innocent toddler from horrific murder. Saving the child means you also saved Mando from unspeakable heartbreak. As much as this is huge a shock to the system, you’re grateful that the ones you care about are still with you.

“It’s not your fault, Mando.” You say after a moment, sighing as you run a hand through your hair and are shocked by what you feel. “Oh shit, I forgot this is short now.”

Mando also sighs, looking away from you. “I think it’s best that you stay on Nevarro when we return.”

Your heart sinks, “What? What are you saying?”

“I endangered the child. I endangered you. I am not fit to care for him just as I am not fit to be your friend. I’m going fulfill my duty by getting him to his people as soon as possible and you’re going back to Nevarro.” His voice is both strained and cold.

“No,” you say angrily.

“Yes,” he bites back.

“No. You’re not going to punish me or yourself for a mistake that wasn’t your fault.” At this point your head is pounding so bad and your temper is rising so much that you want to scream at him.

The Mandalorian’s head dips, still avoiding your gaze. “Your presence here is distracting. When I’m distracted, people get hurt. I don’t want to hurt either of you.”

You can’t help but argue, a storm of emotions thundering trough your body. “You haven’t hurt anyone. A stranger tried to hurt us. I feel sick knowing that I killed him but nothing was going to harm that baby while I was around. The only reason the kid is still here is because the Anzat couldn’t control my mind. And the fact that he controlled yours is not your fault. Nor is it mine. How could we have known that would happen? Without that being a factor you would have taken him down like it was nothing, and you know it. People fear you. I’ve seen it for myself. That’s because you’re good at what you do.”

Looking back at you, his voice becomes bitter. “Taking the bounty was reckless and cocky. I should have learned more before jumping into it.”

“So you make a bad call and suddenly we’re not allowed to be friends anymore?” Now tears are forming in your eyes, fists balled up in your lap. “That’s not fair.”

“I didn’t say that. I said I’m not fit to be your friend.”

“Yes you are.”

Crawling from the cot and onto the floor, you’re sitting on your heels right in front of him. Close enough to touch. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you, and his silence pisses you off. Angrily shoving at his beskar covered chest, a tear escapes from your left eye and runs down your cheek. He doesn’t budge, continuing to watch you closely.

Letting out a guttural noise of frustration, your brow swoops down and eyes narrow at him. “I killed that guy to protect the little one we both love dearly. I also killed him to protect you. You are my friend. Ner burc’ya. In fact, you’re the best friend I’ve had in a very long time. Long before I got stuck here. I am not going to give up on that feeling because this happened, and if you did it would kind of break my heart.”

Silence befalls you both. The Mandalorian’s movements are slow and precise as he crawls forward and turns to lean his back against the wall, grabbing you around the waist to pull you to him. You’re suddenly seated between his legs with your back pressed to his body, warm in spite of the beskar. Arms circling you, he slowly takes both of his gloves off. The tan skin beneath reveals itself to you, breath hitching in your throat when the fingers of his right hand come to intertwine with those of your left. Your body melts into his and you feel like you could stay this way for hours, the exhaustion in your body threatening to take over.

“I’ve killed many people in my life in order to protect others. This is The Way,” he says after a moment, “but you are not Mandalorian. You have not been trained to fight like I have. To process what it means to kill another living being. I should have never put you in this position.” Leaning his head down to rest on top of yours a little, his beskar helmet is pressing into you. The metal feels hard against your head now that there’s less hair to cushion it.

You grip his hand, tracing small circles into his flesh with your thumb as you press back into the helmet gently. “But even still, I do not and will not regret my choice to save the kid. This is definitely going to fuck me up for a while but it’s my responsibility to heal from it. No one else’s. Something like this could have happened without your involvement, so please hear me when I say that I am never going to blame you for this. Life can be ugly sometimes, but the ones we care about are what make the ugly moments more bearable.”

“As foundlings we are taught that protecting our fellow Mandalorians at all costs is essential to our way of life,” Mando begins to explain, “Our creed dictates that loyalty, solidarity, and keeping one’s word are all traits of a true Mandalorian warrior. Today you wore the traits of a Mandalorian and you wore them well. You may not be one of my kind, but I believe you have the heart of a Mandalorian. There is a warrior somewhere within you.”

At first you don’t really process how significant what he just said really is, and then the realization of it crests over your mind like a sunrise cresting over a dewy morning hill. Your mouth falls open as you blink a few times, stunned.

“Wow. Thank you. That’s probably the best compliment I could ever receive from you, Mando.”

Words taper off for a few minutes, the two of you holding each other on the floor of the ship you both consider to be home. Then the stillness is broken when the Mandalorian suddenly speaks again, voice a low hum within his armor-plated chest.

“Din,” he whispers in your ear, arms tightening around you considerably as he says it.

Leaning your head to rest on his shoulder, you look up at him and whisper back, “Is that Mando’a for something?”

“It is my name,” he breathes, “Din Djarin.”

Your heart is both heavy and full at the same time, chest swelling with more emotion for him than you can really process in such a weakened state. “Din,” you repeat quietly as a sleepy little smile spreads across your face. “It’s handsome. It fits you so well.”

“Only others of my kind or those I trust completely know my true name.” Din’s baritone voice sounds so much more lovely to you now that you have a real name to put to it, to the man who has slowly been bewitching you for weeks on end.

You want to say it a million times, adoring the way the one syllable rolls off of your tongue. “I understand. Thank you for trusting me, Din.”

“Thank you for saving us,” he responds, “I am in your debt.”

“Just save my ass next time the occasion calls for it and we’ll be even,” you laugh a little, then when the ugly memory runs through your mind again you grimace. “Ugh, I feel like shit. The guilt is eating me up inside and its making my head hurt.”

“I know,” Din says soothingly, “When we get to Nevarro I’ll get a room with a real bed for a few days. You need proper rest.”

As he says this, the child’s pram opens up and his little green head pokes out. He looks just as exhausted as you probably do and how you assume Din also looks under the beskar. Slowly, the kid climbs out of the pod to come join his humans. Little legs carry him to the two of you, noises of discomfort leaving him as he does so.

When the kid climbs into your lap and nestles into your stomach, you run your free hand over small his head while still squeezing Din’s fingers with the other. Din’s free hand moves to his foster son, a three-clawed green hand wrapping around Din’s thumb as the kid holds him back.

You sigh, “All three of us need proper rest, Din.”

“Mm,” he agrees with a hum. Then a slap-happy, giddily little laugh erupts from you, causing Din’s chest to rumble beneath you. “What is it?”

A loopy grin spread across your face, you snuggle into his beskar covered shoulder more as you cradle the child. “I'm just so happy to finally know your real name. I love saying it.”

“I love hearing it said in your lovely voice.” Din nuzzles his metal head into you. “I’m sorry that I considered leaving you on Nevarro. Fear poisoned my thinking.”

“I forgive you,” you accept his apology, “and I’m afraid too, if it makes you feel any better. All of this scares the hell out of me. But I'm thankful to be here with you and this little green bean right now.”

Without much forethought, you pull his hand up towards your face and press your lips to his knuckles. Din makes an indistinguishable but attractive sounding noise, and you can’t help but feel a little proud of yourself for causing it’s occurrence.

*****

Next Chapter

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Masterlist

*****

Taglist:

@luc-k-y | @theslytherinwriter | @somewereinthegalaxi

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the-adventures-of-dave · 2 years ago

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Heya! Been debating for a while to ask a cat blog / catblr a question and I hope you're fine with me asking it! My cat sometimes randomly attacks me like I'll just be talking to a family member and he'll just randomly decide to pounce and bite me (clawing me as well). Me and my family figured it might've been because he was bored so we tried playing with him more and even started to make sure his auto play toys (basicly ones that move on their own, he used to love one of them a LOT but doesn't usually care for it much anymore) but even if we play with him for hours he'll still randomly attack me, it isn't soft bites either, sometimes I'm running out of bandaids. He's got lots of toys and cat trees that he loves but we don't know why he keeps doing this, he doesn't hate me he wants to spend too much time with me to hate me so we're really at a loss. Any ideas?

Hello friend! I’m sorry to hear that you and your kitty are dealing with aggression issues. I’ve been there before with Dave, and I know how difficult it is. It’s hard not to build resentment when these kinds of things happen, and I commend you for seeking a solution that will help both your kitty and you. <3

All that being said, there are a large number of reasons a cat could be acting like that: physical and mental health problems, routine, human interaction, environmental issues, etc.

Keeping up with playtime is a fantastic start, in case it is related to boredom or anxiety. Has this behaviour started suddenly, or has kitty always been like this? If you can pinpoint a trigger (a recent move, arrival of a new family member, outdoor cats, etc) then you might be able to work backwards from there to solve the problem.

To keep yourself from getting injured, see if you can watch his body language and find signs he’s about to bite. If you can’t redirect him to a toy or other distraction, get up and leave the room entirely for a few minutes to let him calm down. At least you’ll avoid some bites this way, and at most he might even learn that biting = you leaving and stop the behaviour.

I’m afraid I can’t give much specific advice beyond that though, since aggression can have such varied causes. My primary suggestion would be to talk to the vet- it’s important to rule out any physical health problems that could be causing it. Otherwise if you have the funds, it might be worth it to contact a cat behaviourist for more specialized help.

Good luck anon! Hopefully you and your kitty can get through this.

#honestly the best thing for Dave’s anxiety was fluoxetine #but that doesn’t work for all cats or households #def talk to your vet and they should be able to help #they know your cat better than me!#thanks for the ask #ask

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nani-nonny · 1 year ago

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So now!! The waited part two AND ch 16 of WDS IS HERE!!!✨✨✨✨✨ AM SCREAMING

I really really love how when i wake up at like idk 7 AM or so in the morning only to see multiple notification and one of those are your fic notification!! It makes me already giddy and stimmimg trying to calm my heart before i start reading and then stops remembering i have a morning routine to do first before that!!

So back to the review (trust me, my heart STILL beating fast even remembering the fic✨✨ that's how badly am excited!), We start back at the kids FIGHTING tooth and nail for our peepaw's attention! I just looves it, it's funny and oddly wholesome, and leo begin a grumpy old man - with too much PTSD in that shell - is just sitting there and watching the drama unfolds while trying - keyword trying but not hard enough - to stop them ONLY to be saved by old man splinter 😂

Man why do i feel splinter WANTS to say " get use to it because it's gonna happen daily " and walk as the ghost brothers and sister give them their privacy that they needed, it is right that after the scary battle, the injuries and taking care of everybody? Big blue didn't have his time to let... Well.. Everything sink in his brain! It's like delay panic.

I feel so happy that splinter asked f!leo to go with him shopping because he not only needed some sort of quite but quality time with his dad! So they teleport to hidden city market and it does remind me of few funny things (something relate to my memories when i was just a little girl).

Splinter giving leo ONE job to do and he fail miserably - i don't kinda blame him, IT'S BEEN 20 YEARS! -.

I... LOVE how he is able to avoid scammers and pickpocketers, this screams how well aware leo is and i LOVE IT!! The cool vibes of " i may be old but don't mess with me! " vibes 🤩

He finally meets the 03 cat klunk! (03 tmnt Mikey had an orange cat i don't remember if it was named klunk or not), and just knowing her lower part is broken just BREAK my sensitive heart, i can't bear to see an animal hurt THIS bad especially if they can't defend themselves.

And we reach the 2nd part the spoiled clip part of the store owner, before we continue this guy reminded me of that one background guy in cass apocalypse comic where he was screaming at casey when leo turned smol? Remember him? Yeah he reminds me of that guy.

So back at store owner he drops jokes, insults and comments left and right - missus pfft - and we reach that champion pants, believe me i almost SCREAMED FOR THAT PANTS!! THEY FIT HIM!! tho he didn't wear it yet - wait is I'm blue fic, big blue wear them?? -

I honestly never thought leo would drop the WHOLE summary of his existence and war to the store owner but man, HE BELIEVED HIM?!?! WUT?!

So NOW leo - with cute little Klunk - going to find ol' splinter and he's fighting so hard for a discount - ngl that reminds me of my mom, she fought a guy for 15% discount - and then dropping the tea!🤣 i honestly wished i was there to egg him on " spill the tea sis! Spill the tea! ".

Leo luckily went back home without much difficulty only to see a new challenger had been added to the fight... CJ! Now my bet is with CJ! He will kick ass.

Am glad Klunk was there to calm everyone down because i think they would've been to the second phase; using REAL weapons.

I think because leo was older he was weak against orange's puppy eyes - AND EVEN SAID WE TOOK DONNIE IN 😂😂😂😂-.

But then realize blue is missing and that gets me worried a bit, maybe it's the part where he and blue play video games? Hopefully.

Oh geez I wanted to reply to this sooner but I got a bit busy

Anyways,

Leonardo not trying hard enough to stop the teens from acting up and messing around the lair is peak fatherhood. As long as he doesn’t hear crying then they’re okay /j

Delayed panic is perfect for Leonardo’s situation lol, it was one after the other for him. He honestly didn’t get a true moment of rest.

Splinter is lowkey trying to solve the issue with Leonardo referring to him as “Splinter” instead of “Dad”/hj. Gotta spend quality time with Leonardo to fix, even if Leonardo can’t do the one thing he asked lol

Leonardo’s awareness being so high is so important to me you don’t even know /j he won’t let any detail slip past him

Yes Klunk! I honestly spent a good amount of time thinking about what to name the kitty but then I remembered 03 Mikey’s cat and thought to give the kitty the same name as homage or I guess Easter egg to a really good show

The yokai clothing hop owner that Leonardo met was kind of inspired by the real talkative (questionable) guy from the first chapter of DMD hehe. But selling the champion pants is totally not referring to the battle nexus (in a silly way, we won’t be getting Leonardo in big mama’s ring) but I like to think that there are yokai who sell off brand battle nexus champ merch lol

And Leonardo admitting to his creation (although twisting the truth to seem a little more believable for the yokai) made me laugh a little because he said it either such conviction that it was believable lol

Leonardo returning to the chaos was a struggle there were so many people to take account for in writing but blue going missing kind of makes it easier

Sadly we won’t be getting the moment where Leonardo and blue play games and that won’t happen until Casey jr gets into school. :)

Thank you for taking the time to write this review(?) of ch.16! It means so much :))))) <33333

#whispers of distant souls #nani nonny answers #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt future leo

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vinnymauro · 2 years ago

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wip weekend challenge

so here are the snippets per my poll found here. i don't know how to do math so i can't figure out how to do sentences per vote. so instead i'm doing each of them with sentences per total votes. so 24 sentences across the board. (next time i do a poll i'm going to add a little "acey's rules" where i change the rules based on what math is easier)

below are each of the snippets and hopefully for wip wednesday y'all will be excited to see more from these guys. & since bartender au was the winner i did write specifically more in it i'm just giving you a snippet of 24 ish sentences. also i don't want to spoil so i gave a snippet from tied part 2 rather than 3 but i promise i did write 24 sentences!!

another life

“No, I don’t think you want to,” her voice was soft but there was something else in it. Something a little sharper, hidden beneath the hurt she felt, hiding within the words. She didn’t think that he wanted to do this, that he wanted to end what they had. Because neither did she. Does he think that she does? There was another long stretch of silence. He fidgeted whenever he was upset or stressed, she could tell he was spinning his rings on his fingers, chewing on his lips. She knew everything about him. Or she thought she did. She liked to think she did. “Then what are we doing? Are we going to keep fighting for another six months until one of us ends up cheating and getting caught?” She closed her eyes when he spoke. She didn’t need to look at him. “Fuck! We don’t need a messy divorce on page six, right?” The word hung between them. Divorce. It was so final. It was so full of pain and anger and exhaustion from months of fighting. Months of growing apart. She had a tour coming up, he had a movie. They were going to be separated anyway so why not go for it completely? Sever ties between them, divvy up the things they own together, and figure out who gets the house in Beverly and who gets the apartment in New York.

daydreams

“You good, man?” Argyle’s voice filtered through Jonathan’s thoughts or lack of. It was almost like static was in his brain instead of the usual thoughts that kept him up at night. Without realizing it, he had calmed down, he had shut down his mind and breathing felt easier. He looked up at Argyle and blinked a few times. Is he good? “Yeah, I’m good,” he watched Argyle place the joint somewhere safe and moved to open up the side door. All of the smoke that seemed to accumulate inside the van began pouring out, it hit the sinking light of the sun in a way that made Jonathan giggle. Well, anything will make him giggle now, but it was kind of pretty. With slow hands, he managed to pick up his camera and take photographs of the last remaining tendrils of smoke. He hoped they’d show up the way he thinks they will. And without any warning, he turned to snap a picture of Argyle, who was half sitting and half lying, with a smile on his face. It was wide, close-lipped but it reached his eyes. He looked content. He looked beautiful. But he wouldn’t say that out loud. God. If he did that would be embarrassing. “Do you want to go hit some golf balls?” Argyle was already moving, not even waiting for Jonathan to say anything, grabbing a couple of golf clubs from beside Jonathan. When did they get there? And a bucket of balls. They were really going to hit some golf balls. He placed his camera down in its bag, keeping it in the van as he very slowly moved out. Or maybe he was moving regularly and his brain was thinking it was slow. Either way, he felt wobbly on his legs and every step made him laugh a little more. So, is this being stoned? He felt floaty, like a balloon, and if Argyle wasn’t going to hold on to him he was going to float away.

tied pt 2

The early morning light was a blueish gray, casting an eerie glow over the street. Birds sang in the trees, the morning routine uninterrupted as usual. Too early for the paperboys, too early for the commuters. No, the world around the house slept on, unaware, blissful. Peaceful. They knew, of course, as the whole town knew, of the tragedy that occurred in this house. What they didn’t know was that inside this house lived ghosts. Shells of the people who live here. The constant daily reminder that one does not. An empty bedroom left untouched and eagerly waiting for its occupant’s return. An empty fourth seat at the table, an empty spot for her to stare at while her father stayed quiet and her mother—her mother didn’t know what to do with herself. Swinging from her grief, one minute she’s inconsolable with loud sobs wracking through her body, sure to wake the neighbors and the next she’s putting every ounce of anger and hates she has toward the only child she has left. They didn’t know. They didn’t know the weight of grief that hung around the Cunningham family. They could see it, evident in their polite smiles and eyes full of condolences. They’re so sorry for the family’s loss. But they don’t know. They don’t know the depth of this loss. She is still finding herself falling into the deepest pit of loss with no telling when or if she’ll ever find the bottom. When she thinks she can’t possibly cry more, she manages to cry silently in her room. Sleep evades her. She’s watched the sun come up for days now. She barely eats. Both out of her grief and out of fear of her mother’s pointed wrath. She doesn’t take calls. She hasn’t called her worried boyfriend. She couldn’t deal with the outside world. Not yet.

bartender au

Nancy was about to open her mouth but luckily, for everyone in close proximity, someone else yelled from their spot a few feet from the bar. And continued to talk at high speeds as they neared the bar. “Good! You met! Argyle, Nancy this is Eddie Munson. He’s like some rockstar turned solo act or whatever. Anyway, he’s stranded here, in town, so I figured he could stay with us. What’s another body, yeah?” Robin Buckley loved to take in strays. Anyone who seemed down and out and needed someone to pick them up by the scruff of their neck. When Nancy landed in the city a year ago, Robin was the first person she sought out because she knew Robin. Before she got popular here before anyone knew her from social media or from performing when she was just a band geek that went to her college. Robin took Nancy in without even a second to think about it. She simply said sure. Eddie seems to be another stray. “No.” Was all Nancy could say, shaking her head as if it would make a point. As if she was the one who paid the rent or bills when she was not. Argyle had the apartment covered while Robin did the bills and let Nancy stay on a pull-out sofa in the living room. Even Steve paid his way through making family-style dinners for them whenever the four of them are home together. It isn’t often but it’s pretty appreciated. “Rob, I’m going to have to side with the angry one,” Argyle was using his apology voice, trying to let Robin down in easy and soft tones. “Wait, why?” Robin was looking between her roommates with confusion, her brows furrowed and her blue eyes almost clouded. “Theory three,” was all Argyle said and Nancy watched Robin’s confusion worsen before theory three dawned on her as eyebrows shot up and her mouth opened into a perfect circle.

before sunrise au

Someone had walked into the back of the train car, where he was sitting, and took a seat from across him. He was tall with long, black hair and there was something about him that caught Steve’s attention. He gave Steve a polite smile, one that he returned, before trying to go back to reading. “Sorry,” Oh good, he’s American. At least by the sound of it. No more language barrier. It’s been fucking hard being on a completely different continent, in different countries, and each of them looks at you like you’re the enemy because you only speak American English. “Do you know what they’re arguing about?” Steve had to laugh with a shake of his head. “Unfortunately, my time in high school was not spent learning and mastering the German language.” It was spent usually thinking about girls, occasionally boys, and trying to get Nancy Wheeler to fall in love with him. What a waste of four years. “Right. That’s German? Damn, makes sense then. We are in German-speaking lands,” the other guy looked around at the car, then out the windows, as if he was just now realizing where they were. “I was fine in Spain. I mean the vernacular is completely different but I could at least understand it, y’know?” “I take it you know Spanish, then?” “Yep, first language.” Steve was now completely forgetting about his book. There was something about this stranger on the train that captivated him. Maybe it was his cool exterior. Maybe he was just hot. Either way, Steve wanted this to keep going. Whatever the fuck this is.

^ most of these have been written on the fly so there isn’t a whole lot of editing going on.

#acey writes #wip challenges #wip games #i wrote most of these in like an hour / hour and a half #so i'm pretty proud of myself for working on them

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angelofrainfrogs · 2 years ago

Text

Spend the Night: Ch. 15

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

The night's not over yet You can't escape me You really can't forget You can't escape me The party's just begun You can't escape me You can try, that just makes things more fun!

~You Can’t Escape Me by Dagames~

Together they would reminisce, the old ghosts regaling Freddy of their childhood misadventures until Gregory begun to stir from his nap. When he realized he’d fallen asleep for a few hours, he shot up and glanced around.

“Morning, sunshine,” Charlie told him, attempting to placate with a firm hand on his back. “It's almost 6, buddy...”

With dawn, it was time to discuss the elephant in the room. What was best for Gregory moving forward?

Luckily, Freddy had been thinking through a plan while the others spun their tales. He held Gregory securely as the boy’s heart rate calmed down once he realized he was safe and sound with his protectors.

“Good morning, superstar; do not worry, I have an idea of how to get through the dayshift.” Freddy’s gaze moved between Michael and Charlie as he explained. “There is a fair chance the Pizzaplex will be closed due to the other animatronics being in such a distressed state. In these cases, we are confined to our rooms. Since there are no guests to entertain, there is no need for us to walk around; the only times we are taken out are for routine maintenance.”

He looked around the security office for a moment, letting out a small sigh.

“Ideally we could stay here, but I know that this office is used by dayshift staff… so I think the best thing would be to move our base temporarily to my room,” Freddy continued. “We will keep the curtains shut and stay quiet, and if anyone comes by you three can hide in the back storage area. Charlie and Gregory can fit in the storage lockers, and Michael—” He gave the fox an apologetic sort of smile. “It is not a perfect spot, but your best bet would be to stand in my charging station and cover the window with your cloak.”

Everyone took a moment to think about this idea. Nothing could guarantee Gregory’s safety from other animatronics as much as being in the security office, but… maybe things would be different during the day. Hopefully they’d be less ravenous for human children, at the very least.

“I think that’s the best idea we have,” Michael eventually agreed. “We should probably pick up some food and water for Gregory soon, though—we definitely don’t want to be wandering around for any reason.”

Gregory was going to ask for another bag of Toxic Gummy Bunnies, though his favorite sour-candy may have been ruined by the thoughts of those gummies wanting to inject him with an odd, purple liquid.

“Can I have pizza for breakfast?” he asked, knowing it probably had more substance than the bags full of candy and Fizzy Faz he'd been subsisting on for the past week. He thought about the state of his teeth because of it as well. There was a gross film of plaque that had caked his back molars, and overall Gregory needed water.

After looking to the clock, Charlie reckoned the employees would be coming in soon but there was enough time to fetch their human ward some grub. She’d never complain when it came to food. And anyway, the Fazbear industry was a known death trap. So why shouldn't the food slowly kill you, too?

“Normally I would discourage such a meal first thing in the day, but I believe we can make an exception,” Freddy remarked, giving Gregory a little squeeze before standing to take his hand. “Let us stop by the Faz Pad; it is the closest restaurant and will have the most options.”

“The coast looks clear,” Michael said, scanning the multitude of camera feeds as he slowly got to his feet, tugging Charlie with him. “We’re right behind you guys.”

Gregory had been somewhat cranky. Not outwardly mean to his caregivers but certainly fidgety. It seemed he wasn't a big fan of mornings and was still adjusting from last night’s horror-fest. He was good for them though, and held onto Freddy's hand as they roamed through the very quiet Pizzaplex as morning light shined in.

All was quiet again. The oppressive air from last night had been lifted, in its place a tranquility that one only knew of after hours of relentless chasing. The Faz Pad's automatic lights were on as they arrived. S.T.A.F.F. bots moved slowly around counters and tables to disinfect and clean their surfaces, practically ignoring the four of them aside from occasionally being in their way. Gregory was happy he could sit relatively unguarded at one of stools set up by the pink neon counter as he scanned the menu.

“Let’s see… what’s good to eat in this place?” Michael asked, ignoring the pained creak of metal under his weight as he slid into the stool next to Gregory’s. Freddy was in the back gathering pizza, water, and anything else he thought Gregory might need for the long day ahead, leaving Mike and Charlie to keep watch and entertain said kid. Michael looked over the menu, his eyes widening at all the options.

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a burger and side of chips…,” he murmured, knowing he’d be drooling at the colorful pictures of greasy food if he could. He chuckled, turning to Charlie who was stationed near the entrance. “Hey, remember that time we went to the local dinner with our siblings and just got a huge bucket? The five of us demolished that thing in like thirty minutes!”

Mike continued to snicker as he turned back to the counter. “I swear I was wiping grease off my fingers for days after that…”

Charlie stopped her stalwart watch to glance towards her friends, noting Gregory’s particular look of interest. Charlie must’ve been around his age when they took that trip to their local 24-hour diner. She leaned in on her hands and laughed. “Dude, I was so bloated. I don't think I've ever found another place that oils their fries like that!”

As Gregory listened to their insider story, he wondered if he closed his eyes he could imagine what they looked like. He’d seen Michael's ghost, so that was easier to picture even it'd only been a split-second view. It was much harder to put a name to a face when it came to Charlie.

“I think if I could eat, I'd go back there and down a whole bucket myself!” she mused. It was worth the acne she’d gotten for sure, though that was another time she swore Evan was going to puke. “Remember how Lizzie still ordered ice cream after?”

“I swear that girl had a second stomach for the stuff.” Michael shook his head, the grin on his face still prominent. “But that was fine with me—Evan and I much preferred ice pops. Swore by the blue ones.” He let out a snort, remembering an anecdote from earlier. “Well, until he ate too many; then he decided he liked the red ones instead and stole all mine…”

Michael huffed, though it was full of more brotherly affection than annoyance. He looked at Gregory, lightly tapping the desserts section of the laminated menu. “Anyway, what kind of kid are you, Gregory—an ice cream kid or an ice pop one?”

It was a summer ritual for the Afton boys, Charlie noticed. Every night after dinner Mike would grab popsicles for him and Evan without fail. As soon as the air was warm and humid, that was when Mr. Afton’s fridge was stockpiled with boxes of the stuff.

Gregory had been asked a good question. What did he prefer? As he glanced away in search of an answer, a cake trapped beneath a glass case caught his eye. With an instantly watering mouth he remembered the best dessert he ever had.

“Does ice cream cake count?” He answered with a question, which had Charlie placing her hands on her head.

“I totally forgot about ice cream cake—” she said as if new avenues were suddenly open to them.

“—with blue icing.” Gregory decided, as if he was some kind of icing connoisseur.

“Oh yeah, ice cream and cake, all in one?” Michael gave an approving nod. “That’s definitely the best. They’ve got to serve that somewhere in this huge place, right…?”

“Not in this location, but they do have a variety of options in Chica’s bakery upstairs,” Freddy replied, finally coming out of the kitchen. In his hands was a box pizza, and hung over his left wrist was a plastic bag full of drinks and other assorted snacks. He shuffled out from behind the counter and started for the door, speaking over his shoulder. “Come on, let us hurry back to my room; I can show you everything I picked out when we are there and Gregory can finally eat.”

Michael hopped off the bar stool, wincing as he heard the metal squeak again—he felt sorry for the next person to sit there because he had a feeling he probably broke down the integrity of the seat quite a bit…

Gregory was definitely going to need a dentist when he got out. All those breakfast Fizzy Faz's were about to reduce his teeth to carbon ash by the time he turned sixteen. Still, he was pretty stoked to try the Roxy flavor that he peeked at from inside the takeout bag. He seemed to have a bit more energy and hopped off his stool with a grin.

“You guys excited for pizza?!” Gregory said, so overtaken by the greasy delight he forgot he’d been spending time with things that realistically couldn't—or shouldn't—try to eat.

“Uh... For sure, little dude!” Charlie replied, hating to burst Gregory's bubble. It certainly didn't hurt to pretend for a moment that she could.

“Am I excited for pizza? Hel—Heck yes. Should I be excited? ...Probably not so much.” Mike decided to take a slightly more realistic approach when answering, though he made a point to avoid outright saying “no.” Would he actually put a piece of cheese, mystery meat, and tomato-topped dough in Foxy's mouth if Gregory offered it to him?

...Yes, if only to stop the look of disappointed realization that was spreading across the boy's face.

“You've just got to eat extra slices for Charlie and I, alright?” Michael added, holding out his paw for Gregory to take as they walked. He leaned down to murmur conspiratorially in his ear. “And also make sure to drink an extra Fizzy Faz for me when Freddy's not looking, okay?”

“I heard that, Michael,” Freddy said, not even bothering to turn around, though his tone indicated that he wasn't actually annoyed—he knew Michael was just trying to cheer Gregory up. Although, he wouldn't put it past the fox to help Gregory follow through on his suggestion.

Hmm... Freddy would have to keep an eye on those two when they paired up so they didn't get into more trouble, no matter how innocent.

This would make Gregory burst into a snicker, happily grasping onto Michael's paw. With his free hand, he mimicked zipping up his lips, silently telling Mike he'll keep the secret before shushing him, as if he was already blowing their cover. The sight made Charlie laugh as she got the door for the four of them.

She could see it now—the trend of bad decisions when they were unsupervised would continue to grow. How long would it be before Charlie got sucked into their antics?

At least the two of them meant well, she thought as they spilled into the mall again. Morning sunlight came through the atrium windows, basking the hall in a muted orange glow.

“Hey, look guys—Moon won't be able to bother us anymore.”

Gregory rolled his eyes. Moon...

“Eh, he was afraid of flashlights. He can come back when he scratches a hole in my cheek,” the boy replied in a jaded manner, touching the bandage on his face.

“I wonder if Sun would ever un-ban you from the Daycare,” Michael thought aloud, though he quickly grimaced as he remembered their prior visit. He'd still been stuck inside the Freddy then, and had to watch helplessly through his eyes as Gregory and Charlie were chased around like crazy by Sun's alter ego. “...Not that I necessarily want to go back anytime soon.”

“I think once we get this virus cleared up, Sun will be quite amiable to letting Gregory back in,” Freddy replied with a soft chuckle.

It didn't take long for the group to reach Freddy's room, and after checking to make sure the door was locked and the curtains still tightly closed, the bear set the pizza down on the coffee table in front of the couch. It was shaped like a star, which was great for the aesthetic but horrible in terms of practicality, as it was only able to fit the pizza box and nothing else. So, Freddy simply emptied the contents of the plastic bag onto the floor, laying everything out for Gregory to examine. Along with a whole bunch of napkins, Freddy had grabbed three bottles of water and one of each Fizzy Faz flavor, as well as a few assorted bags of chips and a pre-made PB&J sandwich, if only for Gregory to have something minutely healthier than pizza for one meal.

“Thanks for the grub, Dad!” Gregory made sure to say, sliding towards the table fast as he reached for a handful of napkin.

Charlie had gone to the window, drawing the curtains tighter than before. When she turned around, it was to see the kid scarfing down the pizza fervently. “Dude, slow down!”

She laughed, deciding to pick him up and get him situated on the couch. He wouldn't answer now that he was eating a warm meal, though he didn't seem to complain in the slightest about being relocated.

“You're going to inhale that whole pizza without even tasting it,” she warned. Fazbear's pizza had always been suspicious with its ingredients, but she remembered inhaling the unhealthy slab of grease and cheese the same way. She couldn't forget the look Henry gave her that one time she told Mike that her and Sammy witnessed their fathers put a little something extra in the sauce. He claimed that the customers came back because it was good all on its own after scolding her lightly for the silly lie.

“Yes, save some for later, superstar—we must make this food last until the dayshift staff leaves,” Freddy said gently, though he couldn't help but chuckle at Gregory's clear excitement. It warmed his mechanical heart to see him happy and enjoying something for once.

Michael had settled himself on the floor, curious to examine these infamous Fizzy Faz drinks now that he had them all laid out. They were... interesting, to say the least. Orange soda was the most standard, and Mike found it ironic that this was Freddy's brand—a classic flavor to match a classic character. Grape wasn't too bad either, though the concept of carbonated pink lemonade and sour lime was something Michael couldn't quite imagine. He'd have to ask Gregory to describe what exactly these things tasted like the next time he tried one.

“If I eat one slice an hour, I'll be able to last to night shift.” Gregory said, thinking about how he'd portion his slices in advance. He even decided the peanut butter and jelly were to be an auxiliary snack. There would be no need to stress about another food run for him, at least for today.

Meanwhile, Charlie was thinking about how she would give a limb to taste what the orange soda was like. She remembered the orange creamsicle fountain drink at the diner and hoped that someone in this company had the sense to make it similar. Though even if it was new, she wouldn't complain. To be able to taste any kind of soda would be amazing.

As if he read her mind, Gregory looked to Michael, swallowing a lump of pizza to ask him, “Could you pass me the orange one please?”, bouncing slightly when Charlie decided to crash onto the couch next to him.

“Ready?” Mike met Gregory's gaze as he picked up the can, throwing it experimentally into the air and catching it with his paw. Upon Gregory's nod, Michael tossed the drink in an expert arc that fell perfectly into the boy's waiting hands. The fox blinked, surprised that it'd actually worked—he half expected the soda to bean the kid in the head if Charlie's reflexes didn't kick in fast enough to stop it. “Whoa... guess that was some internal precision-based programming kicking in.”

Gregory opened the can, its cracking noise followed by a light spray of the soft drink. It made Charlie raise her arms as the sugary spritz of orange soda splashed her slightly. It wasn't a big deal, she had been covered in worse over the years. But Gregory still sent her an apologetic look before taking a sip.

While the soda situation was being addressed, Freddy moved to the window, leaning as close as he could without jostling the curtains too much. There were definitely people outside now, their tired chatter heard mutely through the glass. Freddy looked back to the group and pressed a finger over his mouth, signaling for them to lower their voices.

“The glass is thick so we do not have to be completely silent unless we hear someone right outside, but we should still speak in a whisper just to be safe,” the bear informed them in the exact sort of hushed tone he wanted the others to use.

Outside's morning crew looked somewhat baffled at the state they found Chica in. Judging by the body language as she sat by a planter, head in her hands, it appeared they were scolding her. None of the Glamrocks should've been out of their rooms, yet Chica appeared to be covered in pizza grease and scuff marks galore. Worst of all, when she tried to explain herself she couldn't even remember how she’d gotten all the way back to the main stage!

“Are they going to arrest her?” Gregory asked, as the day shift's blue-buttoned shirts sort of reminded him of a mall cops. He was just barely able to peer past Freddy through the curtains, mostly hidden behind the bear's leg. “If they can, they should.”

“No, they are not going to arrest her,” Freddy replied, shooing Gregory back so he wouldn't be seen by passing employees. “They will likely take her to Parts & Service once they finish lecturing her for getting so damaged, and then they will—”

Freddy cut himself off, eyes widening as a thought struck him. Finding one animatronic dirty and damaged could be chalked up to a malfunction specific to that character alone. But if they found Roxy—or worse, Monty—in similar states...

“Freddy, what's wrong?” Mike asked, coming up to the window and pushing Gregory even further back into the room. As Michael watched he saw one of the staff members gathered around Chica suddenly break off and head right for their position. “Shit!”

“Language, Michael!” Freddy chided, quickly pulling the curtain closed and turning to face the others. “You must hide now—I think I am about to be taken to Parts & Service with the rest of the animatronics. Hopefully they will let me go if they see that nothing major is wrong with me, but please lock the door after I leave and stay hidden in the back until I return.”

“Should we take the pizza?!” asked Gregory in a hurried voice. He threw his slice into the box and managed to close it before Charlie could wrap her hands around him and lift him off the ground.

“Forget the pizza! Mike, get the door. Let's get you to the recharge station—” Heading for the backrooms, the three of them fled as a girl with tanned skin and curly red hair knocked at Freddy's door.

Mike followed Charlie's instructions, shutting the door to the backroom just as he heard the knock. In mild panic mode, when Puppet handed off the kid he instinctively pulled Gregory possible inside the recharge station, apologizing for the constricting space. Mike hadn’t been in one after obtaining his new body, his ghostly soul enough to keep Foxy working without regard for battery power. The electrical whirring that auto-started when he closed the pod door made him jump at first, although his body did connect and began to fill his apparently-depleted battery. It was a weird sensation, but also relaxing in a strange way. He wondered if the Glamrocks enjoyed their small breaks away from the world in these things—he sure would if he was a normal robot.

Satisfied that Gregory was hidden despite the unconventional spot, Charlie gave the boys two thumbs up from outside the charging station and carefully climbed one of the many shelving units, slotting herself in a darkened corner.

Gregory hadn’t been fussy about being haphazardly shoved into the charging pod with Michael. It may have been boring, but Foxy’s peg leg gave him more range of motion to move with. Freddy was just bulky enough that Gregory knew staying in the pods for too long even without being in his stomach compartment would feel claustrophobic fast.

***

The knock was easy going and patient, the voice behind it muffled by thick metal. “Mornin', Freddy! You awake?”

“Good morning!” Freddy replied, setting his face into its default smile. Opening the door, he was relieved to see who it was—though barely starting the job a week ago, this girl had already cemented herself between humans and robots alike as one of the nicest employees by a mile. “It is nice to see you; how are you today?”

The short, kindly security guard outside had an odd name. Or, it’d be more accurate to say that her nametag was strange, reading: “Soapie.” Her first order of business was to give Freddy an ocular pat down. She already knew he’d been out of his room that day from the dirt on his legs, but the thing that stuck out to her most were his hands.

Those green and purple claws did not belong to Freddy Fazbear…

“Hey, big guy!” Soapie replied, knowing she’d get more cooperation from the ursine robot by being as sweet as honey. Her curls bounced as she glanced inside the room, noting some snacks scattered around the table. Yet another odd thing—not only should Freddy be free of dirt, his room shouldn’t have a mess within either. He’d been out of commission and barred from visitors due to his concert malfunction, so he most definitely hadn't had Meet & Greets since a few days ago.

“Looks like you had a big night too, huh?” she finally concluded, her eyes roaming back to those hands. With a sickening twist in the pit of her stomach, the guard finally realized exactly who those claws belonged to: Monty—who’d been missing all morning.

Darn. In the scatter of making sure the others were safe, Freddy had completely forgotten about his new set of appendages. So much for convincing the staff there was nothing wrong with him…

“Ah… yes,” Freddy admitted, looking apologetic as he sheepishly clasped Monty’s hands behind his back. He certainly wasn’t going to tell this woman all the details, though—not without some heavy editing on his part.

“Things were a bit… strange last night. The other animatronics were not acting like themselves—have you gotten an opportunity to speak with them, by any chance?” He paused, tilting his head in concern. “Or perhaps Officer Vanessa? She seemed quite under the weather as well—has she made contact with anyone this morning?”

Soapie let out a whispery laugh, crossing her arms as she nodded, softly interrogating the bear as she decided to answer his questions. “Yeah, we kinda gathered that. We found Roxy at the raceway—you know, as per usual. I just spoke to Ness over the radio, and she was telling me she had issues corralling you all. You know how understaffing at night goes…”

Though she hadn’t actually seen her boss yet, Soapie wasn’t worried. Most of the nights here were fairly calm, although there was a clearly a programming bug going around that seemed to be infecting the robots like a kid with a cold.

“I found Chica with a torn up pizza box in her stomach hatch. Can you believe that?” asked the guard, who seemed to have nothing but genuine concern for the programmed personalities. With a smile, she stepped out of the way for Freddy to exit. “Don’t worry though, we’re going to take everyone to Parts & Service for a quick tune up and shine—you included, Fredbear.”

Soapie had made it seem like a suggestion, when in reality Vanessa wanted her and the others to gather the band together asap.

“Of course,” Freddy agreed, following obediently. At least if he was gone, staff should have no reason to go into his room—hopefully the others would be safe and sound until he returned.

He allowed the young woman to take the lead, musing on whet she’d said as he followed behind. So “Vanessa” was back this morning—Freddy had been worried that William’s influence was now infecting her 24/7, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He couldn’t confirm this unless he actually saw her, of course, but he had a feeling “Vanny” couldn’t keep up the ruse of being her opposite persona for more than a few seconds.

They caught up to Chica just as her lecture was coming to an end. Freddy watched her closely for signs of the crazed animatronic he’d seen last night, but as she spotted him he could tell that the bright, happy light in her eyes was the same as it should be.

The poor chicken even seemed embarrassed. Chica was as much a rebel as Roxy at times when it came to coming and leaving her room. But she’d never overdone it like she had last night, and with them finding pizza boxes swallowed and shoved inside her chest cavity, she’d been given a rather stern talking to.

On her radio, Soapie called in to her boss. “Hey, Ness. I’ve got Chica and Freddy; taking them to the service elevator now. Over.”

Giving the two robotic friends a wide smile, she told Chica: “Come on, no long faces okay? We’re just gonna go to Parts & Service, ask some questions, then get you guys cleaned up.” It seemed that they believed so wholly in the software issue that no punishments would be doled out today.

“I just wished I remembered…” Chica sighed, managing to smile when she saw Freddy, despite her surprise at the state of the normally-composed bear. With his hands conveniently kept out of her sightline, she had no reason to question the green claws. “You too, Fred?”

“Unfortunately so,” Freddy said, hanging his head in mock shame. Chica’s words rang heavy in his ears. He knew they got temporary amnesia when Gregory moved out of sight after they’d spotted him, but to not recall any of their actions last night was quite a feat. Freddy quickly realized that if he wanted to get through this situation in one piece, he’d best play along.

“My recollection of the night is unclear—I believe there is an issue with my memory banks,” the bear added with a frown. He looked at Chica with eyes full of confusion, hoping she’d believe him in his distress—the anxiety was real alright, but the cause of it was wherein Freddy’s fib lied. “Do you remember anything that happened?”

Chica seemed to feel a great deal of sympathy in that moment. It was scary not knowing what you were up to. However, the excitable chicken was programmed specifically to be one of the most uplifting animatronics around. Nothing bad ever lasts forever, and she was determined to prove it!

“Don’t worry, Freddy! They’re going to fix us up—we’ll be back playing concerts in no time!” Chica assured. Unfortunately, at Freddy’s question she drew a blank. It was terrible; just like every night this week her memory was going bad.

“Uh… I think I ran into a Foxy cardboard cutout and had a mini freak-out. Other than that? Nothin’!” Chica let out a small, genuine laugh. It’s not as if she could imagine herself doing anything crazy like hunting down people like some apex predator. There was no need to be so morose. “It’s just kinda embarrassing. Apparently I ate a bunch of pizza last night, box and all. I’ve gotta go get my endo scraped again…”

The security guard that led them into an unlocked service elevator patted her arm. It must be torturous to be designed with an endless love of food, yet unable to consume it.

“We’ll get you nice and clean for the kids next week,” she dutifully assured as their descent began. At Freddy’s questioning gaze, she cleared her throat and scratched the side of her face. “I’ve got a feeling the Big Boss is going to close us down for a few days; there’s a lot of weird stuff going on, and with him at that huge stakeholders meeting and not here to manage it all, he’s probably losing his mind.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” Freddy offered a tiny smile as the elevator began to move. “That is probably for the best until we can sort all of these odd bugs out.”

Looking to Chica, his face softened. This was the bird he knew—positive and optimistic. Freddy wanted to reach out and comfort her as well, but she hadn’t seemed to notice Monty’s claws yet and he did not want to bring any extra attention to them.

Speaking of which… the guard hadn’t said anything about actually finding Monty, only Chica and Roxy. He’d been in such a sorry state, it was impossible for them not to locate spare parts chopped on that little stage. Hopefully Freddy could get out of there before the gator caught sight of his claws; the bear was still trying to figure out a way to explain them to the technicians, although it seemed like amnesia was going to be the best route for most of this.

Freddy gave a soft laugh, not wanting the others to grow concerned if he got lost in his thoughts too long. While Freddy had the tendency to “think” the most out of all the Glamrocks, it was because he’d been designed as the most protective and logical of the group—as the leader of the band, it was his duty to keep the others in check. He could get away with pausing while his “systems” figured out how to respond or what to do next, but there was an unspoken time limit to this that would be cause for alarm if he continually overstepped it.

“Those life-size cutouts can be jarring; I sometimes come upon one rounding a corner and am surprised when they do not answer me back!” the bear said in response to Chica’s earlier comment, trying to add his own levity to the situation. She’d clearly run into Michael last night, which the fox in question neglected to tell them about. Although, with the William incident likely occurring right afterwards, Freddy couldn’t blame him for forgetting such a comparatively small detail.

Chica let out a sigh. “I'm so glad I'm not the only one! Roxy's lucky she doesn't have that problem. I wonder if Monty gets spooked… We'll have to ask him when we see him.”

The nice security guard, who’d been casually listening to their easygoing dialogue with interest, quirked her brows just slightly. The change in her face was minute, clearly not meant to cause worry.

“That reminds me, uh—” Soapie reached for her walkie, murmuring into the receiver. “Hey, Ness? We're en route for Parts & Services. Did you find Montgomery yet?”

Impatient for an answer, she drummed her fingers over the back of the plastic communication device. He’d been missing from the get go, which was odd for an animatronic, and even stranger for the biggest in the Glamrock band. Adding in every light completely busted in Monty's room, she had a bad feeling right from the start.

Static issued from the walkie for a few seconds, before the telltale beep of the receiver. There was a bit of fumbling before Vanessa’s voice issued forth, sounding a bit far away.

“Ugh, stupid fuckin’—” More shuffling, then her voice came though as loud and clear as the walkie would allow. “Okay—hello? Can you hear me?”

Upon Soapie’s confirmation, Vanessa let out a sigh. Her voice was tired, the exhaustion of the night obviously taking its toll. Something definitely went down… even if Ness didn’t remember 90% of it. If the animatronics weren’t enough proof, her broken wrist surely was.

“So, uh… Monty.” Vanessa paused, her finger still holding the mic down, and the faint sounds of the golf course could be heard in the background. She’d been actively looking for the gator when her coworker called. “We… kind of found him. This is gonna sound really weird but… we found his lower half. I don’t know what the fuck he got up to last night, but it seems like he fell off the catwalks, hit a beam, and got snapped in two.” She paused to grimace, her eyes roaming over the long path he’d taken in his fall. “Thing is, though, his upper torso’s still MIA. We’ve looked everywhere and it’s just… gone.”

Freddy’s eyes widened, but he managed to keep the full-body startle response in check. He couldn’t seem too emotional, even though Vanessa’s statement made him very, very nervous.

Had William taken Monty’s body? If so—why? And why not the whole thing?

Yet again, there were too many questions and not enough answers.

The dayshift guard stepped out of the lift, listening to Vanessa with furrowed brows. That hadn’t been the answer she expected at all, and frankly the fact that even happened to Monty stressed her out. It was going to come out of someone’s paycheck if they didn’t resolve the issue by the time the boss rolled back into the office. Soapie gripped her hair, a self-soothing tactic, only to find Chica in much dire straits over her friend.

“Monty fell?!” the bird gasped, rhetorically questioning the information presented to her. “W—What? Where could the rest of him be?”

Chica leaned against the lift walls as she tried to look past the shock. What had startled her further was Freddy’s lack of concerned reaction. She noted it from the corner of her eye.

“Isn’t that just awful, Fred?” she asked, the concern for both him and Monty apparent.

“Chica, look at me—relax. You’re gonna overheat your circuits. We’ll find the rest of him!” Soapie promised. She wasn’t about to let 500 whole pounds of animatronic tech go missing like that. Monty probably just… crawled off somewhere. Those Glamrocks were designed to keep working even if they were nothing more than a severed head.

Freddy’s arms were once again clasped behind his back as he offered Chica a reassuring smile. His eyes still held concern, though he didn’t want to make Chica more worried than she already was. His goal was to comfort her as best he could, like good friends were supposed to do.

“I am sure Monty will be alright,” the bear said, voice calm and measured. “You know him—he is very resilient.”

Apparently more so than any of us realized, he thought. Where in the world could that gator be?

“He will turn up soon enough,” Freddy continued aloud, moving closer to gently bump shoulders with his bird friend. In normal circumstances, this is when he’d pull her into a hug—in general, Chica appreciated more physical affection than the others, but especially when something went wrong. For now, the nudge would have to do. Freddy was really regretting getting these upgraded claws; they’d been nothing but trouble from the get-go.

Chica might have amnesia from the night shift, but she would absolutely remember the way Freddy was acting. While it was comforting to hear his words of assurance, Chica could just tell something was off.

It's a programming bug; he's had it since yesterday night, she told herself, trying not to dwell on the negatives. When they find Monty, maybe he'll know something. Chica held her arms in a self-hug as they walked into the frankly messy Parts & Service room.

“You party animals really tore the place up last night,” Soapie remarked with a snort, noting how Roxy actually listened to her for once and stayed inside the repair cylinder. She wasn’t one to scold the funny animatronic creatures. It's not as if their AI was capable of taking those criticisms to heart, she always figured.

Roxy sat, trapped in a case of her own ennui. Her claws rapped impatiently against the chair, but she perked up instantly upon seeing her friends and flashed them a razor-sharp smile.

“Man, you guys took your sweet time!” Roxy playfully chided. She’d already been scrubbed clean, though the dents in her casing were apparent in the bright fluorescent lighting.

Seeing Roxy cleaned off and looking much closer to her normal self gave Freddy a hesitant sense of relief. Yes, she was littered with dents and he was certain the virus still lingered in the back of her mind, waiting for the perfect time to reactivate… but for now, it seemed like she was okay.

“Hello, Roxy!” Freddy greeted brightly, inclining his head in lieu of waving. He could feel Chica’s eyes on him, watching him like a hawk. She could tell something was wrong, that much was obvious, but Freddy just hoped she chalked it up to a system-wide issue they were all going through. Freddy stepped up the cylinder, looking through the glass to where Roxy sat in the chair.

“I hear they caught you in the racetrack again,” he said with a light chuckle. Usually she’d either be in the beauty salon primping herself to perfection or practicing her skills on the raceway, both of which caused her to lose track of time, get caught by dayshift staff, and reprimanded for leaving her room.

Freddy wished it had been another one of those situations. Only he was aware of her true goal last night of hunting down a lost child.

Roxy laughed in response. She inclined her head, freshly-groomed mane bouncing as she rolled her eyes.

“If only I could live at the raceway. It's meant to be—I don't even remember getting down there!” she replied with a dreamy sigh.

One day she'd convince them to let her room be inside the actual attraction. Sometimes it was easy for the Glamrocks to forget they weren't actually rockstars with people willing to give them whatever they wanted with nary a snap of their brightly painted, metallic claws. They were mascots to a franchise, owned by a single human man and his band of shadowed shareholders. It was more convenient for the consuming masses to go where all the robots could be seen one right after another.

Chica sat down on the chair, close to Roxy but avoiding touching her for fear of greasing her up by accident.

“You'd run up the electricity bill again if they let you sleep there!” Chica laughed, making Roxy smile.

“Hey, you still there?” Vanessa’s voice crackled through the walkie. “I’m coming down to Parts & Service now with what we’ve got; I’ll be there in about 10 minutes.”

“Copy that! I'm with the others.” The dayshift guard walked away to answer her boss, giving the robots some room to have their own conversation while she paced. “Could you check the Daycare for the attendant on your way? I couldn't find him anywhere.”

Hopefully someone had been able to locate the lanky, sky-themed robot—and even better, hopefully he didn’t need and repairs like the rest of the crew. It’d be double-weird to see him out of his natural habitat.

“Rodger that—I’ll swing by the Daycare and see if I can find him,” Vanessa replied. “Over and out.”

The walkie clicked off, and the night guard changed direction to head for the Daycare, grumbling to herself as she did so. Man did she have one hell of a headache…

Freddy chuckled more at Chica’s statement, nodding in agreement. He moved to stand in the cylinder facing her and Roxy, leaning casually against the window with arms still crossed behind his back. It was already easier to interact with the girls now that they were together, their natural ability to get along infectious.

“The raceway is certainly one of the most entertaining attractions in the Pizzaplex, I must admit,” Freddy had to concede, then flashed Roxy what could only be considered a smug grin. “Although Fazer Blast is a close competitor in terms of guest enjoyment.”

Each animatronic had their own attraction, and though Fazer Blast was arguably the least themed to its animatronic, it was technically Freddy’s. Despite the unfortunate encounter that Mike and Gregory had inside the arena last night, Freddy still held a sense of pride for the game itself.

Roxy subtly sent a smirk Freddy’s way. She couldn’t deny that kids were always begging their parents to buy the two for one party passes so they could go from one high-octane attraction to another.

“It’s a classic combination if you ask me. What day of go-karting isn’t complete without a few rounds of laser tag?” Roxy reasoned, letting Freddy have his kudos while reminding him who the fan favorite still belonged to.

With an indignant squawk, ever defensive about the popularity of her own attraction, Chica questioned: “What about Mazercise?!”

Roxy, at the risk of dirtying her arm, snaked it around Chica’s shoulders and squeezed the chicken into a close hug that instantly cheered her up.

“Chica, honey… No one likes mazes and kids don’t like fitness,” Roxy said in an air of joking bluntness, though a kernel of truth may have slipped through. It made Chica laugh, playfully pushing the wolf away as she pretended to be sadder than she really was.

Coming back towards the group, Soapie clapped her hands together to gain their attention. “Alright! Who’s next for cleaning?" When Chica hid behind Roxy some, she sighed. “Please—not everyone at once.”

“I will go next,” Freddy volunteered, pushing himself off the wall to stand a little closer to the chair.

Chica's cleaning always took the longest due to her tendency to eat human food that clogged up her endoskeleton. With the literal garbage in her system she'd been chowing down on last night, she was probably going to be in that chair all day. The faster Freddy could get out of here and hide in his room, the better. He was already starting to feel anxious being away and hoped the others were doing alright—and weren't too bored, especially in Gregory's case.

“You heard the bear!” Chica went to nudge Roxy off the chair, only following suit when Roxy grasped her hand and pulled the bird along with her. Rolling her eyes, the wolf led Chica out of the safety cylinder to give Freddy and the guard room to work.

“Thanks for volunteering, Freddy. I'll try to be as quick as possible. I've just got to strap down your arms; you know protocol,” Soapie told him, patting the seat as a signal for Freddy to relax before she walked to the command terminal inside the workspace. Entering a few prompts, she allowed the cleaning program to load. Programming and major repairs were saved for the trained technicians, but with Soapie’s level of experience she was well-equipped to run a basic cleaning protocol and replace a few limbs.

“Hey, you don't mind if I ask a few questions, do you?” she asked, her whispery voice coming off amiably enough. Despite Freddy telling her that his memory eluded him, she still had a few burning inquiries she at least had to try and get an answer to.

“Not at all,” Freddy replied easily, relaxing against the chair. He was used to these cleanings and wasn't bothered with being strapped down, save for the fact that he could no longer hide his new claws away. He noticed Chica's eyes widen as she finally caught sight of them, but Freddy couldn't hear what the bird whispered to Roxy outside the cylinder.

He tried not to grimace. What must they think of him, seeing their missing friend's claws attached and functional on another's body? And Roxy didn't even know Monty was missing yet...

Despite their constant competition, underneath it all Roxy and Monty were fierce friends who would protect each other until the end of time. Hopefully she wouldn't lose her cool and try to confront Freddy as soon as he stepped out of the protective cylinder.

Trying to ignore these thoughts, he glanced at Soapie with an easy smile.

“I will answer any questions as I am able to, although I believe my memory banks have been damaged,” Freddy reminded the guard gently. If she asked anything he didn't want to answer, he'd simply claim that he couldn't.

Soapie ordered a sanitation prompt through the terminal. Robotic arms came down to power wash away specs of dirt in fierce, pointed streams. The sanitizer evaporated quickly so as not to settle inside the robot’s casing and cause rust damage. When Freddy reminded her that his memory was faint, she nodded, watching as Roxy walked Chica away from the sight of Freddy's mismatched hands.

“So... You don't remember how Monty's hands got on your arms?” she asked tentatively, her voice and tone delicate as not to make it seem like she was accusing him. She was just anxious to get to the bottom of it all.

After the washing prompt ended, it was onto removal and replacement of Monty's claws. They needed to match Freddy’s hands back with his model before Vanessa saw and had a fit. The last thing anyone needed was to stress out the harried night guard further than she already was.

Freddy resisted the urge to groan aloud as Monty’s claws were unceremoniously detached. It was a good idea to equip him with “weapons” that could break through extra gates in theory, but their plans had gotten so detailed by the Fazer Blast fiasco last night, they hadn’t even gotten to use them.

Good to note that if day staff caught Freddy with any upgrades, they’d be swiftly removed. He wasn’t opposed to switching out more parts if absolutely necessary to further ensure Gregory’s safety, but they’d need to be cautious of how visible any new additions to his body were. In response to the question, Freddy shook his head, feigning the best look of innocent confusion he could muster.

“No, I… I do not know how I came in possession of them. I do not really remember interacting with Montgomery at all last night.” He frowned, as if thinking hard. “I saw him in Rockstar Row at the beginning of the night shift, but after that it is all a blank.”

As familiar blue-clawed replacement paws were attached to his arms, Freddy looked to the guard with an apologetic smile. “I am sorry I could not be of more help.”

It was notoriously difficult to tell when a robot was lying. So much so in fact that Soapie decided Freddy had been telling the truth from the start. After all, he was the most responsible one—she couldn’t remember a time the well-behaved bear ever got in trouble like his companions. Now that the bug wasn't actively happening, she was sure Freddy wasn't going to lie in some vain attempt at keeping the status quo.

Soapie shrugged, wiring and calibrating his hand with the skill and delicacy of someone with years of experience under their belt.

“Don't sweat it, Fred,” she replied easily, trusting the bear completely. “I know you'd tell us if something was wrong.”

Soon enough Freddy's restraints lifted, and she gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Just don't do anything too stressful today, okay? We're going to have the programmers look into the latest software update. Hopefully we'll get this under control soon.”

“Thank you,” Freddy said with a smile, flexing his oh so familiar hands as he was ushered out of the cylinder. “I plan to stay in my room all day, so—”

“Oh my god, I am so done with all these stupid malfunctions!” Vanessa’s exasperated yell made everyone turn as she stomped into the room.

To put it bluntly: she looked like a damn mess. Her clothes were wrinkled and disheveled, and her hair wasn’t much better, frizzy pieces sticking out of her usually tight ponytail with reckless abandon. Her face was pale from lack of water and proper nutrition, contrasting sharply with the dark bags under her eyes. The most noticeable thing, however, was the makeshift sling of gauze holding her left arm securely against her chest. Her shirt sleeve was pushed up to reveal bandages wrapped from hand to elbow, and her wince of pain signaled that it hurt.

“We found Sun—he was huddled in a corner of the Daycare under one of the floodlights,” Vanessa explained to the dayshift guard. She heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose with her non-injured hand. “He’s being weird, too—refused to let us check him out unless we moved him to a place where there was no chance of the lights going off… so some of the techs are looking him over in the main lobby where there’s natural light.”

The night guard let out an incredulous snort. “That psycho literally crawled up a wall when we brought up checking over Moon, too! We’ve gotta figure out a way to get to him sometime but that’s a problem for the techs to figure out, not me.”

Another sigh escaped her lips, the weariness starting to catch up to her. If she wanted to be awake for her shift tonight, she’d need to take a long nap and get some food soon. Vanessa looked towards the animatronic trio, narrowing her eyes at the state of them all. “Anyway, that’s my update—what going on with those three?”

Soapie had half a mind to tell her boss to maybe relax a little in front of the clearly traumatized robots—what stopped her was the sling Vanessa did not have on yesterday. Had she known Ness was hurt on the job, she probably wouldn't have asked the woman to stay and help figure out the issues with day shift.

“Found Freddy with Monty's claws on him,” she whispered her way. It felt strange reporting on the AIs when they were right there, judging what she said in an eerily similar way to a human. It was her job though, so she cleared her throat and went on diligently. “He doesn't remember how they got on his arms. Chica is full of garbage. Plastic knives, ripped up pizza boxes, solo cups and something that looks like cheese?”

Soapie cringed as she thought about the gross smell it was going to make when scooped out of her. She already reeked—actually, all of them except for Freddy had a pretty foul stink attached to them. It was a particular odor that gave her a headache when she thought too hard on its origins.

"Ness—I didn't realize you hurt your arm...,” Soapie remarked gently. She wasn't one to pry, though it only allowed worry to go through her mind as she imagined the terrible potential of what occurred last night if a human got injured in the chaos—or God forbid something was going on in Vanessa's home life.

“Huh? Oh, yeah…” Vanessa glanced down at her arm with a grimace. “Yeah, I… fell down some stairs last night—landed right on my wrist in the worst way. I’m gonna get it checked out soon, I just had to get all this shit done first.”

Normally Vanessa wouldn’t lie about such things as a major injury, but she’d been doing a good job of keeping her amnesiac blackouts under wraps to everyone but her therapists. She couldn’t risk damaging her career even more if she revealed to those she was supposed to be supervising that she couldn’t remember most of her night shift activities… She’d already been transferred locations in the Fazbear company a few times and didn’t want to go through another adjustment period—or worse, be straight up fired.

Freddy tried to ignore the guards as they talked, though he was secretly listening with rapt interest. That was certainly not what happened to Vanessa’s wrist last night, but the bear wasn’t about to correct her. Whatever motives she had for lying to her coworkers, Freddy didn’t feel the need to concern himself with. Instead, he stayed back until he saw an opportunity when he could interject and ask to return to his room. While he waited, he felt Roxy and Chica’s accusing and confused gazes fixed on him.

“I do not know how that happened,” the bear said, holding up his hands to indicate he knew exactly what those looks were for. “I woke up from sleep mode this morning, and my claws were not my own. I am… sorry you both had to see me like that.”

Roxy was like stone, frozen in disbelief while holding onto her friend’s shoulders. Chica was hunched slightly, averting her sad gaze as if she’d been caught whispering to Roxy when Freddy glanced over.

Roxy told Chica that she was sure it had to be due to the programming bug. Freddy just had the worst of it—after all, he’d fallen over on stage. That sort of incident could cause all kinds of internal injuries, and even mess with their self-reporting software. Freddy must’ve been in a worse state than they were last night, to not remember swapping body parts.

(And how, exactly, had he gotten those new claws attached? That was a whole other can of worms.)

Chica knew she couldn't entirely blame him. It would be hypocritical. Though the thought that Freddy of all people was capable of something like that had deeply affected her.

“Monty will be fine—” Roxy reminded everyone. “—like... When he's all found. I trust you, Freddy.” Trying to apply good peer pressure, she gave Chica an encouraging squeeze to say something.

When Chica's hand covered the paw resting on her shoulder, she nodded in agreement. “Right. Uh—it was just really... Shocking. Like Soapie said—”

“Sophie,” the day guard interrupted with a roll of her eyes. “Honestly, they misspell my name one time in the staff logs and no one can get it right…”

“—Yeah, her. Anyway, the programmers will fix up our code before the day’s out.”

“Yes, I am sure they will,” Freddy agreed with a confident smile, despite his complete lack of confidence in this statement.

The virus infecting his friends had already burrowed its way deep into their coding—not to mention the whole supernatural aspect to this entire situation. He doubted a few hours of running software debug programs would be enough to truly fix what was wrong. Not until William Afton was destroyed and could no longer bend others to his will through nothing more than a simple command.

“Speaking of that,” Vanessa chimed in, looking over at the robots. “Freddy and Roxy, you stay here until the programmers get here. Chica, they’ll work on you once you’re all cleaned up.” The woman grimaced at the state of the bird, not hiding her disgust with how much of a mess Chica had made of herself. “Once your software's been updated, I want you all to go back to your rooms and stay there. I’ll be back to check on you guys during night shift. Got it?”

“Of course, Officer Vanessa,” Freddy nodded quickly, the perfect picture of obedience. Underneath this veneer, his metaphorical skin crawled at the thought of Ness returning for another night. If she just stayed away, maybe she wouldn’t fall under William’s influence again, and then they’d have one less threat to deal with.

But then again, maybe the rabbit was simply just in her head now. Freddy had no way to tell.

“You got it, 'Nessa!” Chica replied.

Roxy backed away from her friend and nodded her understanding. Normally she'd take her warnings with a grain of salt, but tonight was different. Who knew how Freddy was going to react. It could be her disassembled at the raceway tonight, maybe this time with her eyes plucked out... She'd rather not think of that—or to paint one of her close friends as someone so willfully violent.

That wasn't him. It was just a glitch.

“You should go home,” Sophie remarked, meekly suggesting for Vanessa to take it easy. “Get your arm checked, too. I... won't tell anyone you got hurt if you don't want me to.”

She decided it was better to comply. It was clear that Vanessa didn't want compensation due to the clear state that the robots were in. It'd probably piss management off to no end to hear that the understaffing around here wasn't working to their benefit. “I'll stay here until they're done with the Daycare attendant.”

From the sounds of Sun's distress, it was going to take a while until he was pacified. Then they could screw around with his brain a bit and get it over with for the rest of the band.

Vanessa heaved a sigh. “Yeah… I’ve gotta get out of here for a bit. Thanks.”

She gave Sophie a pat on the shoulder with her good hand. Then she narrowed her eyes and made an “I’m watching you” gesture to the animatronics before turning on her heel and heading out to temporary freedom.

***

It didn’t take as long as expected for the programmers to arrive. They decided to start with Freddy, since thanks to the mismatched limbs he was considered the one in need of most immediate care out of the four haywire animatronics they could locate. Though Freddy was relieved to get out of there before everyone else, the dark irony of him being the most volatile animatronic wasn’t lost on the bear.

After nearly another hour in the chair wherein the programmers checked and rebooted every software system they could think of, Freddy was cleared to return to his room. Staff had opted to leave Safe Mode on for obvious reasons, which suited the bear just fine—the less chance of him being somehow influenced by William, the better. With one more reassuring smile to Roxy and Chica, Freddy headed back to his room, trying not to seem too eager to do so.

***

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