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lilystyles · 1 year ago

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gingerbread at midnight.

part one of the sweetest thing series by @lilystyles

the sweetest thing masterlist & my main masterlist xxx

authors note did somebody say christmas fic szn??? if there is two things people know about me it is that i love christmas and i love harry styles. so here u go!

brief description during a chilly evening at the bakery, harry learns how to make gingerbread.

warnings! fluffy christmas baking including niall :) (4.3k words)

grumpy!roommate!journalist!H x sunshine!baker!roommate!reader

* * * * *

It was a snowy December evening and Harry finished work early for a change. Being a busy journalist who worked for one of the biggest media companies in the world, he never finished before the sun went down. Even before he’d been promoted to his high position now, and he was just some young fresh-faced Uni graduate assistant who rarely saw the light of day. Waking up early and finishing late. He was always running off much less sleep than your average person, and even when he was at home he was busily typing away on his laptop. But despite his strenuous hours and stressful workload, he loved his job a lot, and openly admitted he was a workaholic.

This was why he needed a roommate. He worried for his sweet girl while he was away during the evenings.

At first, he couldn’t think of anything worse, he’d had roommates in Uni who literally made him want to pull his (gorgeous) hair out and swore to himself he’d never do anything like that again if he could avoid it. It wasn’t that his job didn’t pay well, in fact, he was very wealthy and he could’ve gotten a sitter for the days but it just didn’t seem practical to have a sitter every day for the rest of his life. And no, his sweet girl was not a partner to crawl into bed with during the evenings, or a child who needed his attention throughout the day.

His sweet girl was his spotted Dalmatian named Peaches, who got lonely during the long nights he’d stay at the office.

Y/n had been the perfect candidate for a roommate. Who he had met through a mutual friend Niall, they went to school together apparently and Niall worked with her now. He vouched that she was easy to live with. There had been a period of time when he had nowhere to go and Y/n let him live rent-free in her flat for a month until he could afford to get back on his feet. She was stupidly kind and generous, sometimes to a fault, but if you had the privilege of her friendship you were so lucky. When Niall explained to Harry what a good person she was Harry believed him. Niall had this great ability to see people’s true intentions, and when he looked at Y/n he saw a beacon of light coloured like spun gold.

Y/n worked for most of the week too, sometimes on weekends if they needed extra hands or she felt like going in, but her hours were flexible despite being a baker, which was unusual for her occupation. But she had a good group of workers who all loved their jobs even if it wasn’t exactly high-paying to work for her, which meant Y/n’s day-to-day life was pretty breezy. And during Harry’s hunt for roommates when Niall mentioned that this friend looking for an apartment with roommates happened to be a girl he was happy, because girls were usually clean and smelt good. Y/n very much smelt good and left a warm touch to the once cold large apartment. Quickly after she started living there, suddenly vases of flowers appeared everywhere, paintings were strung up on his grey walls, hand-knitted rugs found their way onto the couch, food was baking in his oven and Y/n’s contagious warmth filled every room. Harry had grown up with just his mum and sister and there was something he liked about having a feminine touch that made it feel homely. He liked how soft, caring, and gentle they were. Y/n was so sweet, whenever he had a bad day she made a tea and let him complain for however long he needed. And she and Peaches got on great, Y/n took her for long walks in the park near their flat and sometimes she even took Peaches into her work and the gorgeous pup would just sit in the front greeting customers.

The tires of Harry’s car rolled against the snow as he steadily drove through the busy middle of the city to the familiar route of Y/n’s bakery. She’d ran it for a couple of years now, having bought it fresh out of culinary school. It used to be a bookshop that was owned by a lady called Miss Green, now it was called ‘Sweets & Things’ and very successful with all the locals. Before they’d became roommates and he’d even known of her existence Harry remembers eating a particularly delicious danish pastry with blueberries in it, funny that a few years later his roommate made him fresh ones when he’d had a particularly rough day at work.

During the Christmas season the little bakery picked up a lot more. Y/n found herself catering for lots more events starting from October and she didn’t know why but people seemed to need more sweets around this time of year. Halloween needed lots of cookies and sweets, but something about Christmas drove her sales right up. Maybe it was what got them through the bleak winter weather. And since Harry knew she’d been a bit stressed by it all lately, not that she would ever complain that wasn’t her way because she loved her job and was grateful to live out her dreams, he thought it might be nice to drop her some dinner since she’d been neglecting proper meals during the work week.

He picked up some takeaway from this little mexican place near his office, Niall had raved about it a few times now, he got an array of food from the menu and asked what they thought was best. Now he had three big bags of spicy smelling goodness heating up his backseats. He knew that Niall and Y/n would be eternally grateful and Harry wouldn’t mind eating with their company tonight. He forgot not everyone ate takeaway at their desk in the pitch black like he did.

His car pulled up out the front of Sweets & Things and he saw the golden bright lights were still on in the front area of the bakery, but no one was behind the counter manning for costumers. Snow littered the grass and concrete out the front, all the benches people sat at were caked in a thick layer of white and Harry shivered at the sight of outside. His office heaters were broken so he was actually always sweating, no matter the season.

He parked his car lethargically and the sound of Fleetwood Mac cut off with the engine. He knew that the bakery stayed open until nine during the holiday season since Y/n had been working much later than normal and he’d asked about it, Harry checked his watch, and there was a little bit until they would shut down but it didn’t seem all that busy. And his friends deserved to eat after all.

He locked the car and walked along the path shivering and hugging the food to his body in attempt to warm himself up. He wiped his dress shoes against the welcome mat as he pushed the door with his broad shoulder, his dress shoes clicking on the tiles as he entered the bell above the door rang and he heard Y/n’s soft sweet laugh from behind the counter and footsteps. A warmth wrapped around his body and the smell of sweet baking and pastries filled his nose.

The shelves with glass casing showed to be practically empty of sweets. This made him smile. Y/n always felt particulary chirpy when people liked her new creations of the week.

He felt his face start to warm up now and he sighed to himself.

“Hello! Welcome to Sweet & Things, what can I get y—” Y/n’s voice began in her usual script to customers stopping when she saw him, “Oh, Harry! What are you doing here?!”

She rushed around the counter to come give him a cuddle in greeting. That was something about Y/n that took him a while to get used to, she was very physically affectionate. He opened his arms for her and held her happily.

She looked cute as ever. Dressed in an apron that was covered in all sorts of powder and a little pink blouse that hugged her figure, paired with her favourite well-loved Levi’s, her shoes were these dark pink boots that made little clicks on the tiles. She looked beautiful, despite the fact she was running off less sleep than usual, she’d been here since the early morning and was probably very tired by now. Her hair was up in a messy bun that she’d thrown back with a pen and her face was bare of much makeup today. She was just in some lip balm that he could smell was strawberry-scented.

She pulled back from his warm arms and smiled up at him as if she hadn’t seen him weeks when in reality he’d driven her to work that morning. They carpooled and in the evening she’d either walk or catch the bus but usually Niall offered her a lift home.

“I just thought I’d bring you and Niel dinner, it’s from that Flaming Green Jose’s place he was talking about.” He said showing the bags of food.

Y/n smiled this really big grin that Harry loved to make appear on her precious face.

Y/n knew Harry was a bit of a grumpy old bastard sometimes, he tended to complain and not like new ideas, but he really was the sweetest thing underneath his stern face and scary resting stare. He was a sweetheart underneath it all. Even though he was so intimidating and tall Y/n always thought he was quite delicate looking. He looked pretty even under the harsh light of the front room, he was in one of his usual business outfits he wore to the office that made him look especially good. Today’s suit was all black and he had a big beige-brown coat over the top to keep him warm in the cold and this deep dark crimson scarf that Y/n had bought him when she noticed he had no scarfs, he said how much he liked her purple one day it was so soft he said and she decided then he needed one too. His long curls of brown hair were dusted in snow and messier now that it was the end of the day. She was sure it was from running his hands through it, he did that a lot when he was concentrating or thinking.

She rushed forward hugged him again with a big squeeze and kissed his cheek in thanks, he smelt so addicting and her head was the perfect height to smell his clothes that smelt like he always did. Like tobacco, vanilla, and his citrusy and woodsy shampoo.

“Well aren’t you just a doll?” She said with a smile.

Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her looking down at her as a dimple formed in his normally stoic face. She pulled away from him hand still holding his bicep as she examined all the bags in his hands. Even though he dressed very formal always, he still had his touch on things, like his rings. Harry always wore dozens of amazing large rings, and nail polish too. Y/n had conviced him a few evenings ago to choose this nice lavender colour rather than his normal black. He said he would only if she would match him. So her nails were littered in that same colour and she was reminded of him whenever she looked at the chipping colour while she was kneading dough. And underneath those long shirts and pants were so many inked pieces of skin, that suited him more than you’d think.

Y/n loved when, usually on Sundays which were his day off, he was sat at home in just some pyjamas that showed all the ink and she could ask him the stories behind each while they did laundry. She liked him in suits of course, there was something very attractive about it, but she liked him all cosy and casual too. He barely ever dressed that way, only at home. She felt lucky to see him that way.

She snapped herself out of her daydreams about his gorgeous hands and that cross tattoo she loved when her tummy rumbled hungrily at the smell of the delicious dinner.

“Niall! Harry brought us dinner!” She called out and Niall stepped out of the kitchen. He looked similar to Y/n, dressed casual too, because she didn’t think uniforms suited her place. The shorter man was in a pair of his own baggy jeans and this brown knitted jumper and a pair of ratty old sneakers. His bleach blonde hair was in messy spikes and he had a pair of glasses on today instead of contacts.

“Haz, is that Flaming Green Jose’s?” Niall asked instantly without even greeting him properly as he walked over to sniff and grab at the bags.

Harry nodded lifting the bags in show, the green plastic was printed in the familiar taco on fire logo that proved it was in fact Flaming Green Jose’s.

Niall practically drooled and looked up at him eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas.

“I could kiss you, mate!” He said, his Irish accent dancing off his tongue.

Harry grimanced at him and handed over the bags. “Please don’t. Just take the tacos.”

Y/n giggled by his side squeezing his arm in her usual way when he said something that made her laugh.

Niall and Harry quickly began to set up the containers of different Mexican dishes while Y/n grabbed some cutlery, cups, and cold water for them all to enjoy their late dinner. The bakery had a few tables for people to sit and enjoy snacks at, and only for one portion of the day did they serve hot drinks, Niall was also a trained barista, which was perfect because she thought coffee suited a lot of her sweets.

The three of them set up their food in one of the booths that was a cherry red leather colour. The snow was falling heavily outside now against the windows and it had started to quiet down out there. Not as many shoppers or people finishing work were wandering around outside as usual. The storm was keeping people, hopefully, rugged up and warm inside.

Y/n dreamily looked outside as she turned the big overhead lights off and switched on just the fairy lights she had strung up for Christmas spirit. They were a nice soft golden orange glow for them to eat.

The three friends enjoyed their dinner quietly as the radio hummed some old jazz Christmas songs, they were all huddled together really close and Y/n leaned into Harry sleepily which he didn’t mind at all. The bakery was warm but Y/n felt chilly now that she was sweating away in the kitchen. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder to help warm her as they lazily chewed down their food. Even though he’d stripped himself of his massive coat and scarf he was still rather warm.

Niall was right it was quite good food and a family-run business which was always nice to support. Y/n knew how it hard was to be a little business in the busy city of London.

The three chatted about nothing particularly worth noting, just talking about normal Harry, Y/n, and Niall things and enjoying the food. Harry was very hungry so he’d barely spoken a word just chewing lazily beside Y/n. When all the food was gone and they all felt sufficiently full Y/n kissed Harry’s cheek once more.

“Thanks again for dinner, H.” She said softly eyes drooping, now that’d she been fed she was getting a bit sleepy.

He smiled, a big one for Harry, he was almost showing teeth.

“I know how hard y’guys have been workin’, just wanted to help in some way.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t too much of a big deal but the fact he’d thought of them when he’d gotten the night off was sweet, he was so busy and he chose to spend some free time helping friends. That hardly matched his scary persona.

This made Y/n’s heart swell and she spoke softly. “Thanks, Haz.”

“Yeah mate, you’re the best.” Chimed Niall wiping his face with a napkin. Niall had devoured his food contently.

Their little dinner together was interrupted by the door swinging open, the bell ringing, and a couple of two walked in.

Y/n stood up, moving from the warmth of Harry.

“Hi! How can I help you?” She said plastering a smile on her face, walking over and tying the back of her apron back on.

The couple ordered a few Christmas cookies decorated like pieces of art and some cream horns that Y/n had made that morning. Y/n handed them their bags took their change and waved goodbye.

“Have a good night!” She chirped to them.

They smiled and waved. “You too, Y/n!”

Y/n came back over and sat down again, looking over to Niall tucking her knees up to her chest. “Is it gingerbread time then, Ni?”

Niall nodded throwing his head back with a sigh.

Gingerbread could be quite tedious. Especially the way Y/n decorated them. She really made them all individual pieces of art just for people to eat them. Which was beautiful, but also very time consuming.

Harry looked over, “I thought gingerbread was quite easy, Y/n makes it so quickly.”

Niall scoffed. “That’s because Y/n’s a machine. But even she can’t do this many cookies alone.”

Harry looked over at the tired pair of bakers and down at his hands. He tried to think of the last time he’d made gingerbread. Must have been with his sister Gemma when they were kids visiting their grandparents. But he thought if he could get an interview with James Hadden (a man who notoriously never answered questions to the media) then he could bake some cookies. How hard could it be?

“Let me help then. Many hands make light work.”

Y/n blinked. “You hate Christmas,” she stated.

He looked over at her. “But I like your Christmas cookies.”

Y/n decided not to fight him on it. “Alright. Niall find him an apron I’ll start setting up.”

Y/n began getting out all the ingredients they’d be needing this way they could each make a batch to save time. She grabbed flour pouring enough into three bowls for each batch, some unsalted butter, brown sugar from the cupboard, some eggs from the fridge, baking soda, milk, and all the spices. As she looked at the array of ingredients laid out on the steel bench she noticed she was missing the most with most important ingredient; golden syrup.

She walked to the stock cupboard and saw the big bottle of golden syrup sitting on the tallest shelf. Adam, a really tall baker, had been working earlier he must’ve put it there. Y/n tried to reach on her tiptoes though it was no use, her fingernails only just grazed it.

When a hand came out from behind her gripping the big can it startled her and she turned to see Harry standing behind her.

“Oh, you scared me,” She giggled.

“Sorry, Love.”

She followed him back out to the kitchen. He placed the big can down on the bench and she took in his form. His long shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a bun now, and he’d taken off his suit jacket and tie, his black shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the buttons on his collar were undone. He had an apron on now too, one of Y/n’s collection, it was pink and frilly with flowers.

Y/n softly explained to Harry the process of making the batter and he was intently listening to her every word watching her through his lashes. Soon enough the dough was perfect and all three of them rolled out the dough the perfect width which meant Harry had to re-roll it. Once Y/n gave a thumbs up of approval they began using the cookie cutter shapes and cutting the cookies out.

Harry had the make hearts and stars, Niall made gingerbread men and women, and Y/n made circles and snowflakes.

Eventually, they put in their first batch, a little after 10. They kept re-rolling the dough and cutting as many as they could until the batches vanished. Harry was very good and gentle with his technique, and some were wonky but Y/n loved that he was helping and it took her years to perfect her cookies so he was doing very well for his first time. She selfishly wanted to keep his batch for them to go home and eat but she didn’t.

By 11 all the batches were cooked or still cooking. Niall was on oven duty and Y/n was teaching Harry how to decorate.

The ginger people were decorated all classic. White iced smiley faces and an outline around their body, little chocolate buttons for the outfits and a pinch of icing sugar to look like snow. Harry tried his best to do them and Y/n loved their imperfections it was like real people; all individual.

The others needed to be painted in colourful swirls of festive landscapes and honestly, they looked like individual paintings. Harry was amazed at her steady hand and ability to decorate such creative and individual designs for each cookie.

“Y’like tha’ bloody Andy Wharol of cookies, Y/n.” He said.

And she giggled her concentrated face cracking to a smile. She looked over at him. “It’s just practice.”

“No, it’s not.” Said Niall, from his station. “I’ve been practising for ages, your baking is just pure talent.”

By midnight the last batch had cooled down and they were all decorating together and Y/n was humming along to the Christmas playlist she had put on.

Niall twirled Y/n around and they sang along goofily. Niall and Y/n had been friends since culanary school which felt like years ago now. They were only teenagers then. All baby-faced and wide-eyed, now they were older and still just as immature when put together. When Y/n opened her bakery and she needed extra hands he was the first person she called.

Niall was her best friend, and Harry had easily become her other one. Even though she was so tired and it was late, and her feet ached. The boys made it better. Niall singing into a spatula and Harry refusing to dance or sing was what kept her going the final stretch. She stopped decorating to go over to Harry, she looped her arms through his waist forcing him to step away from the bench and she tried to make him sway with her.

His body stayed still and she moved closer to the front of him, in hopes of seeing his face.

“C’mon! Dance, Grinch!”

“I don’t even dance when it isn’t Christmas, Y/n.”

She huffed arms crossing, “Please?” she asked, fluttering her eyes best of her ability in hopes of convincing him.

Harry melted at the sight. She was so cute, even Harry couldn’t say no to her. He sighed like it was the most horrible task anyone could’ve asked him and she held out her hand with a smile. He grabbed it and she raised her hand for him to twirl under and he obliged spinning even though he was much taller than her. She leaned in close to him hands landing on his hips as his landed on her shoulders in an embrace while they swayed. She sang softly, and very off-key and Harry just shook his head.

She was like a ray of sunlight, and he was like the moon. She looked up at him, “Thanks for helping,” she said softly.

“Of course….you’ve done way more for me.” He said.

She just shook her head and was about to reply but Niall cut them off.

“I gotta’ get home to Max soon.” Max was Niall’s recent boyfriend.

“Sorry, let’s get back too it.” Y/n said pulling away from Harry.

By almost 1 AM they were finished with every cookie. It was perfect. They would probably all sell out tomorrow. Y/n grabbed two handfuls one for Niall and one for Harry. She wrapped them like she would for costumers. She tied two pink ribbons and handed one to Niall.

“Thank you for all your hard work, Ni, I’ll see you Monday?” He nodded smiling in his easy going way, and pecked her cheek.

“Bye, Pet, see you Monday.” They waved him off and they heard him leave when the bell chimed.

Y/n and Harry turned the lights off and grabbed there things. Y/n put on her layers of clothes. A big red coat, her lavender scarf, and her blue beanie that had a fuzzy ball on top. She grabbed her bags and keys and they locked up the shop.

At least tomorrow both her and Harry had the day off.

The walk to the car was brisk but short, the snow had stopped now and but it was still freezing. The pair stayed close by to one another, trying to keep warm as they walked quickly to the car.

Harry started the car as fast as he could and cranked the heat and while they waited for it warm up they finally tried the few pieces of gingerbread she’d saved for them.

“Y/n this is so fucking good.” He said looking over at her. His hair was back down and he’d put on all his layers too. She smiled.

“All you, H.”

He just shook his head. “You’re the best.”

She looked over blushing. “And you’re the sweetest.”

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crazycookies73307 · 11 months ago

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It's amazing just how much you're willing to do for someone when you like them.

In the romantic sense, I mean.

When you platonically like someone you'd do anything for them, as long as you're able to handle it.

When you romantically like someone, though? That's a whole different level we're talking about.

When you romantically like someone, you'd do anything for them, even if it's sometimes beyond your capabilities.

You might be drowning in your own sorrows, but their suffering always feels like a greater loss. So much so that you feel as though you'd bear their pains on top of your own, just so that they wouldn't have to.

You might find yourself terribly busy, but you always manage to make time for them. You might not know anything related to their interests, so despite being behind on just about everything else, you still somehow manage to learn about them.

Granted, all this is applicable to platonic love as well, but somehow, you felt that romantic love had a certain magical feel to it.

Maybe it was the influence of too many Disney movies, but who cares.

But in the same way, it was also amazing just how much you're not willing to do for someone who you don't like.

Again, in the romantic sense.

See, this is what you meant about the difference between platonic and romantic love. As far as life has worked out for you, when you romantically like someone, you'd find a way to give them the moon and when you just platonically like someone, you'd barely be willing to give them a polished pebble.

Or maybe, you just have shitty friends.

Correction, shitty friend.

You'd do anything for him, even it meant your own doom, but God forbid if the same applied to you.

Their messages were read as soon as they were delivered. Yours was left on delivered for a while.

They ask him for a favour, he'd do it. Granted, it would take a bit of convincing. But for you? Yeah, dream on.

Situations arose where you'd be partnered together. And more than half the time, you know he'd rather be paired with someone else. A certain someone else.

Unless your help was necessary, that is.

Somehow, you had the solutions for everyone's problems.

The advisor, the helper, the mother, the tutor, the therapist, the mentor.

It also sucked that you were an enigma for the rest. You somehow managed to stay on the top of your game despite taking on more and more.

But few knew of your disastrous tendency to procrastinate. Pair it with your perfectionistic attitude and it was a recipe for a disaster, the result being an extremely stressed, sleep deprived and caffeine high you.

You still pushed through, though.

Out of sheer spite and willpower, but still.

The fact was, that you were a busy person. And it's a universal truth that busy people are always stressed.

When you were a busy person with a stupid crush on a guy you know you've got zero chance with, it made your stress ten times worse.

It was as though the universe was against you.

The perfect guy, one who actually wasn't your type, but ended up redefining your idea of your ideal type to fit himself in.

The one guy who you knew, was not necessarily a bad match for you, personality wise anyways. Lord knows if there's anything else lurking beneath.

The one guy who managed to make your tough attitude melt into absolute nothing.

The one guy who managed to make you, who dreamt of lazy rainy evenings and warm tea , end up dreaming about the mushy stuff. Stuff you wouldn't normally dream about, not with a clear cut idea anyway, like your dates, hugs, talks, and even your marriage.

Especially your marriage.

The one guy who managed to break down a lot of your walls, the one guy you felt safe with, the one guy you knew you could trust openly, and you couldn't have him.

For reasons out of your control, you just weren't what he was looking for.

You were good enough to help him.

You were good enough to listen to his troubles.

You were good enough to be used as an excuse for when crap went sideways, because after all, you were trusted.

You were kind, after all. His words, not yours.

It's kind of embarassing, just how much you were willing to do for his sake, and just how little you expected him to do for you.

What you wanted were your thoughts, emotions and actions returned. What you received, was an entirely different matter.

He cared about her,worried about her, and for better or for worse, cried for her. To the extent that you sometimes wished you could stab yourself rather than to witness the scenes unfold.

If he was so capable of such emotions, so capable of freely expressing them, then why was it that he never even gave an ounce of it your way?

Were you worthy of the bare minimum effort? The bare minimum care?

Were you worth so little?

Was that it?

Was that why you were always, always one of the lowest of his priorities?

Maybe it was a you problem, maybe it had nothing to do with him.

But was it really?

Was it really your fault that he chose her over you, every single time?

Was it really your fault, when he made the choice to prioritise her needs over his own, and then come crying to you?

Was it really your fault, when he decided to play a dangerous game of chase with her, willingly allowing you to be the first hand witness to their game?

Was it really your fault, when despite you being there to help him out of his messes, especially regarding hers, he still went running to her for comfort?

They created the messes that you had to clean up.

They were the ones who made bad life choices and come running to you for advice.

They were the ones who were involved in the god forsaken game of cat and mouse, somehow dragging you into the middle of the mess.

They were the ones who forced you into a corner sometimes, with you being needed to cover for them, in the face of a lot of people.

They were the ones who had to be careful in their so-called games, but you were the one forced to enforce the said caution.

In their point of view, you were the villain in their story.

Always poking around, ruining a part of their fun.

But they also know that they were the ones who forced you into the role. That someone was needed to possess the common sense that they lacked. Of course, whether they listened to the said common sense was another matter entirely.

Granted, sometimes you enjoyed putting them in their places a bit too much.

Despite his devil may care attitude when it came to anyone other than her, you knew that he did care for you. You knew that he did consider you to be a friend. After all, you did spend a lot of time together for you to just be named an acquaintance.

It was just that his efforts towards you paled in comparison to those directed towards her.

It also didn't help that he trusted you enough that he knew you'd not betray him, or his feelings that even he himself was kind of oblivious about. It was obvious to you both that he had certain questionable feelings, definitely not of the platonic type, towards her but you knew him well enough to know he'd rather ignore them for the sake of his sanity. At the cost of your own, you admit.

You were the one he cried to about things related to her, you were the one who knew that he was actually completely whipped for her. Not that he was good at hiding it, just about everyone could see it. It was just that you were the only one who was aware of the extent of it.

Sometimes you were sick of playing the adult. Sometimes you wanted to shake him out of this stupid mess he called his feelings. Sometimes you wanted to scream at him, of how you wanted out.

Out of everything that you never wanted to get yourself into.

Sometimes, you wanted him to just get over himself and confess, after all, atleast then you didn't have to see him pine around for someone else.

The rest of the time you were content about being there for him, regardless of the toll it took on your emotions.

Something is better than nothing, right?

And while you were torturing yourself with their roundabout pining, you'd rather be the first to find out if they ever decided to commit. At least you could get the time to prepare your poor, poor heart for when you'd have to break the reality to it.

The same heart, that despite the torturous wait, still hoped that he'd look your way. That he'd find that what he was looking for all this while, was actually right next to him.

That your efforts would be rewarded.

They had to be, right?

No deity was cruel enough to let all those efforts, those feelings, those thoughts, those tears, be for nothing, right?

Your mind said otherwise, but your foolish heart stubbornly kept on believing.

You knew, heartbreak was the only outcome of this stupid situation that you'd gotten yourself into.

You just hoped that when the time came, they would be kind enough to break it cleanly into two, rather than shatter it completely into tiny pieces.

At least it would be easier to put it back together.

Hopefully, anyways.

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waitmyturtles · 6 months ago

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I LOVE 4 MINUTES.

I love it! GAAAAAHHH, I love it. While Be On Cloud’s KinnPorsche was so BL-referential, I just love this juicy Dr. Sammon-mystery genre that takes us out of trope-land. Queer murder mysteries, my beloved.

I have no theories, per se, about where I think this show is going, but I am going to jot down some observations for my own posterity and memory. After reading some theories on Twitter (including one that Dr. Sammon herself retweeted), I went back and fast-forwarded through all the episodes so far, so here are my notes (and these VERY WELL may have been repeated in the tag, so I apologize if I’m just pooping what we’re already assuming here).

1) This Twitter account noted that Tonkla saw his cat in episode 1, after what-we-assume-to-be present-day boing with Korn. Tonkla sees this AFTER Korn rushed off after getting off the phone. After this week’s episode, we seem to be informed that said cat had died in the past.

We also know that Tonkla has a habit of lighting up after sex and during times of duress.

There might be more than just tobacco in those cigarettes he’s lighting up, I’m not sure, but we also know he hits the shabu, pipe-wise.

Besides Great being in what I assume to be, and what I call, a fever-state, or better phrased, a cardiac episode, I am assuming that Tonkla is transcending his own lines of reality through drug use.

1a) [(A quick aside: I just wanna say that I will be VERY. CURIOUS. as to how Tonkla’s drug use is positioned alongside his predilections for unprotected sex, and if I think there will be public health commentary in this. Drug use is, of course, generally not recommended by medical professionals, and at the same time, it’s a culturally important element of many facets of queer culture that many physicians who work with LGBTQ+ patients are trained to be aware of; for example, using poppers to ease the process of preparing for intercourse. I don’t know if the show means to indicate that Tonkla, vis à vis being on PrEP and meth at the same time, is an automatically unsafe person…but he also might be a murderer… so yeah, I will be curious about this underlying public health messaging.)]

1b) (Speaking of public health, yo, we needed those Durex bottles in episode 4, YOWCH.) (😬) (ANYWAY.)

2) So, speaking of Great and Tonkla living in their own realities, I also want to posit that Tyme has created his own sense of delirium by literally not sleeping.

Homeboy is on his shifts, he’s working out, he’s solving mysteries, he’s kicking literal ass, he’s investigating and courting Great, he’s following Korn. He’s doing a lot! We haven’t caught him sleeping yet, again, literally.

I wonder if this may be Dr. Sammon commenting on the culture of insanely long shifts for doctors, which impacts their mental and physical well-being. We’ve also separately learned that Tyme is driven by revenge, and by a need to support his grandma and save Nan. But how can he do all of that, if he’s physically depriving himself of the ability to rest? I don’t know if this is going to go anywhere, but I do notice the camera work, whenever Tyme is scrubbing out of a shift, re-centering from a tilt, which makes me wonder about what these shots are telling us about his mental state (and we saw comparable camera work when Tonkla thought he saw Dome).

(I’m also not forgetting that the show shows him stabbed at the very start of the series, and I’m constantly wondering about that.)

3) Finally, I want to offer that Korn, Great, and Tyme are not out. At least for Great and Tyme, does that contribute to a delirium mindset (and maybe even Korn, too) by way of the stress of holding in secrets? (Please note that this linked article is from 2004 and does not have fully updated terminology.)

I don’t know if this theory holds for Great, because a popular theory for him at the start of the series was that he may not have realized he was gay until he met Tyme. I don’t know that I saw that in my very-fast rewatch except for his surprised looks during the stitches moment in the hospital. Great’s comfort with Tyme in the car after the claw machines makes me think he knew more about his sexuality, and his physical separation from his family at the dinner table in episode 1 also makes me wonder if he realized his preferences were always going to separate him from his nuclear family. I’m not sure, but I’m chewing on this.

4) So, where I’m gonna go entering into episode 5 is that there isn’t a centered or accurate “present day” for anyone….mayyyybe except for Korn, who is certainly living his own fever dream of being stuck in a reeeeeeally bad job, but maybe isn’t being subjected to mental delirious psychoses (just, you know, the general stress of hating your work thoroughly). But I could be wrong there, too, because we know that Korn is driven by greed, filial piety, and a desire to take over the family business. So maybe that’s creating a delirium of his own, one that takes him away from his boyfriend for weeks at a time.

4a) (By the way, isn’t it interesting that we are not seeing NC scenes with Korn and Fasai? I know, I know, Be On Cloud does queer/BL content, but. I think it’d be interesting if the show ran the gamut of intimacy. Just a thought.)

Anyway! This show is so good, it’s making me babble. I absolutely love it, and it is the comeback that Bible Wichapas deserves.

#4 minutes #4 minutes the series #4 minutes meta #greattyme #great x tyme #tyme x great #jesbible #jes jespipat #bible wichapas #basfuaiz #korntonkla #korn x tonkla #tonkla x korn #separately #I AM LOOOOVING JJ’s PERFORMANCE #man is he ever nailing a brooding investigator-type

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spicyclover · 2 years ago

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Pursuit of happiness

Summary: Sometimes, what we need most in life is right before our eyes.

Request

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section!

I'm open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: mention of smut +16

Fatherhood (the movie) inspiration dialogue

Mick’s life changes so quickly that he never knows how lucky he is. Overnight, he is the father of a beautiful little girl, and the woman of his life leaves him and their newborn without a word, a clue, or anything. They were left to themselves. She left the hospital room without anyone noticing. He collapsed, realizing that he would not see her again. How could his three-year-old girlfriend do this to him?

He found himself in this hospital room with his little daughter in his arms. His parents hadn’t arrived yet, and Mick didn’t know what to do. We leave him alone in this room, and he watches the tiny face of his flesh. It looks so much like him. She has the same nose and eyes as him, a real Schumacher.

For the first few weeks of his daughter’s life, Corinna came to help him as best she could. Show him the basics and help him stay the course. But eventually, she had to go home like everyone else. Desperate, he definitely needs help.

“Excuse me,” Mick says, entering the meeting room.

“Um, I’m sorry. AA is down the hall to the right.”

“I’m not. I’m not here for the AA meeting. That’s not why I’m here. » Mick replies, getting back to the hallway to get the stroller. “She uh. She just went to sleep, but she’s been crying for hours. I mean hours to the point where I’m exhausted. And I don’t know how to break the stroller down. I don’t know how to fold it up.”

“Okay. Well, sorry, but this is a group for new mothers.” Replicates one of the young women sitting on a chair.

“You’re lying. Because on that sign out there, it says “parents.” I’m a parent, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I don’t have anybody else to talk about this shit. Speaking of shit, the girl’s got some stuff flying out her ass. It’s like a fire hose. I don’t know if it’s normal or not, but it’s two different kinds. She can either hit you with a streamer. That’s when it’s all put together, and it’s- it’s a little solid. And it’s a direct hit. Or she’ll buckshot you. And that’s- that’s that spray. It’s a quick whop! » Mick is entirely exhausted. « I need help. I need the crying to stop. How do I make the crying stop?”

“Okay, uh, it could be colic, and it’s expected in the first couple of months.” The youngest lady in the center says.

“What’s colic?”

“It’s when the babies cry for an hour on end without reason until it feels like your eyes are about to pop out.” She explains, getting up from her chair to meet him.

“I gave the baby colic.”

“No, that’s - that’s not how colic works.” Says a mother laughing.

“I’m not washing my hand, and I’m touching the baby. And that’s how I gave the baby colic.” Mick is stressed and looks with fear at his poor daughter.

“You don’t give a baby colic. It’s more of a digestive thing.” The young woman replies, looking in the stroller to see his daughter's beautiful face.

“That’s a relief.”

“Things that might work is white noise, surprisingly.” She says, passing her fingers on the little girl's toes.

“White noise?”

“White noise.” She says, smiling. “Come on, join us for the rest of the session.”

She moves back to her place and takes another chair next to her, letting him have some space to sit. Freyja enjoyed the rest of the session with the other babies. Mick takes note, learning a lot about everything there is to know about babies and their various problems. He enjoys listening to the mothers; they give him tips and mother him. After the class, she says goodbye to the others before turning herself to Mick.

“Mick.” She asks, touching his shoulder. “I’m Y/n.”

“Oh, nice to meet you. Thank you for this session. I learn a lot. When is the next session? Do we have to pay for a feed or something?”

“No, this is a free meeting for parents in need. The next session his Tuesday night at seven. I’m glad you ask for help. It’s a difficult time, the first few months with a newborn and all. You could also ask the mother to attend the session if you like.”

“Umm, she died.” He lies, nervously scratching his neck.

“Oh, I’m sorry for your lost.” Her compassionate side is getting a bit overwhelmed. “You’re doing an amazing job, Mick. Don’t be scared, and trust your instinct.” She smiles, locking her gaze on his. Freyja chirps in the arms of her father, happy to be carried. He helps her tidy up the room as best he can, with his baby in his arms, before walking together to the door.

“Why did you choose to do this? Do you have kids?” Mick asks, changing the subject. They walk to the parking, putting Freyja in her car seat.

“No, I don’t have kids. I’m a midwife. Always worked with babies, and I wanted to help the parents with my expertise and various tips. If you need help with your little Freyja, here is my number. Feel free to call whenever you feel like it. I’ll be a phone call away.” She says, gathering her thing and getting into her car.

He feels relieved and confident for the first time in a few weeks. Talking to other parents makes him feel better about his ability to deal with all the baby stuff. He went to the other meeting, listening carefully to every detail and tip the mothers would give him. How to feed her properly? How to massage her small body? How to bathe her? Everything a new parent has to learn.

The weeks passed, and Mick was attentive to each of the classes. Happy to become a better parent for the new love of his life. He is pleased to see her healthy and radiant. He is also delighted to see the beautiful midwife every Tuesday night.

One night, Freyja has been crying for hours on edge. And she starts to be a little warm. Worried, Mick calls Y/n to be sure, making her rush to his apartment. She reassures him by telling him that she must be a little too hot with all the layers of clothes that Mick puts on him, and they sit in the living room to have a drink while Freyja sleeps in the bedroom.

The conversation is going well, and they take this opportunity to get to know each other better. She learns Mick’s trade, and he listens to her talk about her studies and dreams. Signals are exchanged, and the chemistry here’s. Absorbed in their conversation, they don’t hear little Freyja at first.

« Excuse me. » Mick says, worried about his daughter's strange sounds. « Freyja? Freyja gently. What’s wrong with you? You’re choking. » Mick turns on the lights, and Y/n watches the scene worrying about the baby’s noises. « I don’t know what’s wrong with her. » Mick panics and gesticulates in the room, trying to calm Freyja, who starts to cry frantically. « No, but she’s choking right now! She’s choking! She’s choking. » Mick repeats, looking at Y/n, terrified. She tries to calm him down, but nothing to do. Panic seizes him. « What do I do? Call the paramedics? »

« Wait. Let me see. »

« Okay. I’ll call 911 because right now… Excuse me, but she’s choking. » Mick runs to grab his phone, which stays on the kitchen counter, while Y/n reassures little Freyja as best she can by putting her knowledge to the test. « Yes! Hello? I’m calling you because I have a baby that’s breathing. No, but she’s breathing very, very hard. There, then I need to… Yes, I’m at 56 Greenwich Street. My name is Schumacher. On the door. Schumacher. Yes, like the pilot. » Mick hangs up and can’t help wanting to be close to his daughter. He goes to them and orders Y/n to give him his child.

Y/n remains very calm, and after giving Freyja back, she goes to the bathroom. Turns on the light and opens the hot water valves in the sink and tub. She calls Mick holding her hand to grab his arm when he passes.

The steam of the water rises, and quickly the room is fogged. She takes off her sweater and directs Mick to the cares to follow.

"I think it’s laryngitis, so uh... with water vapour, it moistens the atmosphere. It does her good." She calmly explains by observing him holding the person most precious to her. She is moved. It’s rare to see a father as loving and caring as a little being like that. Rarely in the hospital or outside she sees the love of a father so present for her child. « Speak to her. Speak to her gently. Reassures her. It’s going to be okay, I promise.»

Mick calms down little by little and regains control of his emotions. He approaches his daughter on her bare chest and mumbles reassuring words. He tells her how much he loves her. He is so happy to have her in his life. Little by little, she calms down. The steam helps her to breathe normally, and she moves less and less in her daddy’s arms. Y/n smiles tenderly at this beautiful moment of life she attends.

Help arrives about ten minutes later, taking Mick to the hospital. Y/n looks at the ambulance in the distance, and Mick smiles tenderly at him before turning his attention to his daughter. He asks her to stay in the apartment for the night, not wanting her to return to her home across town this late at night.

So she stayed. She waited for them to come back, and around seven am, they did. Freyja is fast asleep in Mick's arms. He puts it in his cradle and joins Y/n, who approaches the door. He walks her down the stairs to be there and stay.

“So you could take me out for coffee. Say, thank you for earlier, you know, like a date.”

“Uhm... I got to go back upstairs.” He quickly says, running back upstairs.

She stays there quite confused, thinking she was too direct with him. She starts wondering if she read the signals wrong. She waits a few minutes for him to come back, but no. Mick ran away.

He felt devastated and didn’t know how to deal with this new relationship or whatever this could be. She arrived in his life like a ray of sunshine after the storm or a rainbow after the rain. Frey loved her immediately, but he felt terrible to move on so quickly on Freyja's mother…

To the next meeting on Tuesday night, Mick went.

“All right, I think that's all for today. Thank you for coming. There are cookies on the counter. I made them last night if you are interested.” Y/n says, gathering her things and putting the chairs away. She hasn't texted Mick back since he rejected her on Saturday night.

“Y/n.” Mick asks. “Do you have a moment to talk?”

“Sure. What is it?” She says, cooing his daughter in his arm.

“Umm... I’m - I was. Do you want to go on a date with me? You know, like a proper date.”

They went on that date, but Mick never moved, and this tension has been present since then. She became a part of the family. She meets Mick parent’s and sister, and he meets hers. Even with this, neither of them made the move and stayed friends. Nobody knew what was stopping them from actually making a move. Corinna thought about his son's stubbornness to put his daughter first, even in his love life.

He has loved her since he saw her at this meeting. The moment she stepped up for him when everybody left. Making sure he and Freyja have the best without thinking about her once. Two years passed, and Freyja is now two. They have organized a little party with some family and friends. Everyone was gathered around the little princess, and she was more than spoiled.

Y/n had made the cake for the second year in a row. Freyja was obsessed with geese. Every time they went to the park, she would see them. The goose-shaped cake, in her words, gently approaches and sings happy birthday to little Freyja, who laughs at the sparkle of seeing her favourite animal on her cake. She reaches out and wiggles in her high chair. Y/n puts the cake down, and everyone cheers once she can extinguish all the candles, with obviously Mick’s help behind her.

Y/n stands next to Mick quite naturally. Mick’s heart gets excited, and he smiles at her. He has eyes only for her. He watches the bursts in his eyes illumine his soul. She emanates warmth and a sensation of happiness that takes hold of Mick. He does not hesitate this time. He gently grabs her face between his hands and kisses her lips softly. Her lips that he so often dreams of kissing, of feeling against him. He kisses her in front of all the guests, who utter an exclamation of contentment. Finally, they dared to do so.

They officialized for the public a few weeks later, making everyone happy.

Four years later...

Four years passed. Four years of happiness and joy in this small family of three. They recently moved to Switzerland to be closer to Mick’s family and allow his father to see Freyja as often as possible. Freyja grew up well. She went back to kindergarten, and everyone loved her. The fans are in adoration at her little angel face. She accompanies from time to time with her mom Y/n her dad to the races. They stay in the garage or hospitality and watch the cars roll, or mechanics do their work.

She loves everything that has to do with her dad’s job. She wants to do everything like him, and sometimes Y/n must be the less cool parent not to allow Mick to take his daughter with him while he goes 90 km karting.

Mick couldn’t be more in love. He’s been living the perfect romance since he met her, and he’s happy to have dared to take the first step. It allows him to have this extraordinary woman at his side. He wakes beside her every morning and doesn’t want to be elsewhere. In his arms for eternity with Freyja in the middle. At this thought, Mick smiles and opens the door of the room. They came home from dinner with a friend and took off her dress. It slides along her body before reaching the ground. She reveals your generous curves, and Mick feels himself growing.

She unpacks your jewelry and puts it back in your jewelry box. Concentrating, she doesn’t notice the presence of Mick, and she jumps when she feels his arms around her waist and his erection in her lower back. His lips rest on her neck, and she takes a deep breath. His name is stuck in her mouth, and she moans.

His hands caress her body and find the warmth of her crotch.

“Take your shirt off. Let me see your muscle.” She whimpers, leaning against him.

Mick giggles at her words but obeys her order. He slowly pulls his shirt over his hand and lets it fall on the floor. He

Mick forces her to kneel down. He pulls down his own pants quickly and smiles. Mick didn’t have to say anything. Y/n is already getting closer. She drops his boxer and caresses his rod, hard as a rock.

She brings her mouth closer and swallows his dick, tearing Mick a deep moan of pleasure. She bites him lightly and caresses him tirelessly with her tongue. Mick gives small pelvis strokes to encourage him to continue this sweet torture. She feels him moaning again before he empties himself entirely into her mouth. She does not let go and swallows the liquid greedily. Little white nets escape, but Mick catches them by spreading them on his girlfriend’s face. “Oh, how he likes to have her between his legs.”

There’s nothing Mick likes more than seeing her filled with him. Literally, since the beginning of their love relationship, he has not stopped thinking about the idea of getting her pregnant. Pregnant with her child. He wants to start a family and have that experience with her. He likes to remove his condo from relationships from time to time; to live at risk. He loves to feel her so close to him. Pushing himself into her, making her moan his name.

That’s why after last night's event, when he wakes up to an empty bed, he’s confused. He’s still in the haze of last night. His body is sore, and he can’t amazing how she’s doing. To be honest, he wonders how she even got out of bed this morning. Early this morning, he had to take care of her and actually take her to the bathroom because she couldn’t do it herself. Her legs were shaking, and she couldn’t stand properly. They giggled at the situation before they went to sleep.

Mick sits on the bed, and he hears laughs coming from the kitchen. He gets up and tiptoes. Smiling to the sound of his girls. Leaning on the doorframe, seeing his girlfriend helped by his daughter making crêpes. He knew at this moment he didn’t make the wrong choice to let her into his life. To let her be his wife. The mother of his child. The love in her eyes is more visible than anything.

He loves her.

He loves the way she laughs.

He loves the way she looks at him.

He loves the way she takes care of Freyja.

He loves the way she speaks to him.

He loves.

He loves her.

That was when he really knew. That morning, after an incredible night of love, seeing her with his daughter like she is her own. Laughing and cooking. Sharing and caring. He knows she is the one.

(Side notes)

Long overdue request, but I’m finally content with the way I wrote it! Hope you like it, and can’t wait to receive more of those amazing requests.

Lots of love, Spicy Clover <3

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1

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hey-august · 1 year ago

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Aftercare (Buggy x GN!Reader)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, mentions of sex, things get emotional at the end - poor communication, mentions of insecurities and crossed boundaries, crying, but things are alright in the end. Word count: ~1k A/N at the end. 👀

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

When Buggy gets into aftercare, he does it so right. It takes time (a lot of time) and multiple tries for him to understand what aftercare is, why it’s important, and what to even do. And once it clicks, he is all in.

At first, he’d try to clean up using whatever was around. Discarded clothes were the usual, but the scolding he received when he tried to pull off a pillowcase turned things around. A little. After that, he’d send a hand off to grab a towel, if you didn’t grab one beforehand.

Eventually, Buggy realized he could keep towels near the bed. It worked out well, actually. He found space for a few different sizes - small washcloths, hand towels, and full-size towels - so there were always a few options. The washcloths were also helpful whenever he forgot to wipe off his face paint before bed.

If you two banged anywhere other than the bedroom, he’d offer his bandana to clean up. That was acceptable the first few times, but it was still kinda gross. He noticed the grimace you made one time and started carrying alternatives. Spare (unworn) bandanas, which worked as an extra accessory. Or scarves tucked in a sleeve, which could be used as an impromptu magician’s trick.

Want a snack? This was never a problem for Buggy, actually. He had food hidden around the bedroom. Everywhere. Near his bedside, in the closet, and in his desk. If you wanted something in particular, he would scrounge it up and grab food for his own munchies. Oh, thirsty? For something that wasn’t alcohol? He’d get a drink if you asked, or if he went off to find you food. It's easiest to keep the carafe in the room filled.

Ready to cuddle? Hell yes. Buggy is a glutton for attention, so cuddles are no problem. Honestly, he falls asleep most of the time afterwards. You learned to nudge him to clean up and use the bathroom before curling up with each other. He complained far less once you explained that he didn’t need to leave the bed entirely to take care of those things. His legs and a spare hand would get up and go to the bathroom while you snuggled his top half, pressing your chest on his bare back.

And on the flipside, sometimes Buggy would get incredibly sentimental and touchy towards you. Running his fingers through your hair, propping himself up so he could look at your face, wrapping himself around you and hiding his face in your neck. Anything to keep you close.

Talking was the hardest part of aftercare. Buggy liked to talk about what was good. What turned you on, what he enjoyed, what would be fun to try next. But talking about anything harder was…difficult. Things that wouldn’t be fun to do again, comments that hurt feelings, and the periodic uncomfortable emotions after sex - spurred on by self-doubt, body image issues, or outside stress. Buggy would clam up or leave if he thought any of those topics were coming up, which would only add to the problem until it exploded and you two were arguing into the night.

Buggy only realized how important this part was when you started pulling away. You became more closed off, not talking about yourself as much. Sure, you’d tell each other in the moment if you disliked anything, but you stopped checking in again afterwards. You still seemed bubbly and happy, but he could see shadows on your face.

You’d go through the motions after sex - nestling into him to cuddle, telling him what you enjoyed, making sure he was content, but that was it. You stopped pressing, stopped trying to build a new boundary.

That hurt him. It ate at him every time you avoided the topics he also avoided. Eventually, the pain came out.

Your head was resting on his shoulder and your fingers stroked the cerulean hair on his chest. His hand was on your shoulder as he held you close. You both just finished talking about the session - only the positives - and the room was silent. Buggy felt the quiet suffocating him, especially because he could tell you had moved on. You weren’t waiting to talk about anything else, since you were already resigned to the premature end of the conversation.

Pressing his lips against your forehead, Buggy blinked back tears you couldn’t see. “Was there anything you didn’t like? How do you feel?” The questions were gravelly and hesitant.

You could hear the beating in his chest get faster. You tried to push yourself up to look him in the face, to see what game he was playing, but he gripped your shoulder tighter and kissed your forehead again.

“Please tell me, I wanna know…” He spoke the words into you.

Hot tears fell on his chest, trapped between your squished cheek and his skin. You wrapped an arm around his torso and squeezed, wanting him as painfully close as possible. And then you shared. You unloaded. There was a lot you held in and once the dam broke, you couldn’t stop. And he didn’t want you to stop.

You told him about your insecurities. About things that you already said you didn’t like, but more. Why you felt the way you did. Why sometimes it was okay and sometimes it wasn’t. On bad days, you don’t really want to be called certain names. When you don’t feel good about yourself, there are things he does that make it better and things that make it worse.

Buggy nodded as you spoke, his face still pressed against the top of your head. His sniffles matched yours. He asked questions. He cared. And when you were done, it was his turn.

The conversation went long into the night. At the end, you were both drained. You felt a headache coming on from all the crying. Buggy’s eyes stung from the tears and remnants of face paint. You two looked awful, honestly. One look at each other and you both broke into tears that walked hand in hand with laughter. How could you let it get this bad? That was terrible! And yet, you did it. You both made it through and things were okay.

Once you both ran out of steam, it was time for food, some water, and a shower. Then sleep, full of sweet, sweet dreams.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: Wanna know what you did that Buggy didn’t like? It was when you said, “I’m going to screw you until your fucking nose rolls off.”

He was very upset about that. Very. Upset. Which is understandable, really. You’ve both moved past it now and every once in a blue moon he’ll joke about it - if you’re getting on his nerves, Buggy will tell you that you’re going to make his nose roll off.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one piece buggy #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #buggy the clown #buggy the clown smut #buggy x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #hey-august buggy fic

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livewireprojects · 3 months ago

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Mute!Bee & Revived!Prowl ProwlBee AU

mute!Bee, revive!Prowl, hurt/comfort & possibly angst with happy ending(might not be in my post but the prompt kind of leads to moments for it)

This was suppose to be a prompt but I feel like it’s too long to be one especially due to all my rambling. Added tags above for just in case that this AU/attempted prompt fits.

It's post series, I dunno what's going on but Team Optimus is still working as a team. I dunno the setting but I'm guessing the team chose to keep working on Earth & might be helping other bots get use to being on Earth on occasion.(Inspired by Memories Don't by Z18lloos on A03) It's been a month since Prowl died, it'll take time before they prepare for a funeral.

By some miracle Prowl has come back to life, could be that despite being dead for a month it wasn't his time(let him live a long life with Bee, just saying I think he deserves it) or just as some kind of thank you for saving everyone he's given a second chance at life.(Also inspired by Memories Don't on A03) No one knows how it happened & after making sure he's ok & won't die again they send him back to his team.

Prowl can't wait to see his team again because they've become close over time.

If he & Bee are sparkmates/a couple then he especially can't wait to see him. If they're not a couple(not yet) then he can't help but feel a part of him wanting to see Bumblebee again, maybe it's because they've grown closer than the others or maybe he has noticed he might want a closer bond with Bee.(Especially due to having time to think while waiting to return)

Prowl gets there & the teammates he runs into are happy to see him. Everyone is curious about how he's doing after his death & learning the war is over let alone the fact the base will be getting temporary teammates showing up occasionally. He's glad to see everyone(and learn his room was kept safe because no one should be messing with it) but he has yet to see Bumblebee & while everyone says he's doing ok they seem to be talking about current time while possibly nervous about talking about how he was doing after Prowl died.

Either Ratchet has enough & shows Prowl or Prowl eventually goes looking for Bee himself.(Maybe with Ratchet telling him where he is/to check for himself) Prowl finds Bee relaxing, hanging out with some of the recruits & Sari. He seems ok if not a little tired but Prowl notices he doesn't seem to be talking much.

Prowl finally walks over, Bee is in shock but also happy to see him. It seems like despite the team being warned ahead of time Bee either didn't know or forgot.(Or Despite knowing he's still surprised/shocked cause it's still hard to believe Prowl is alive again) Bee hugs Prowl close & it takes a bit to realize Bee is too quiet. Prowl is worried as even though Bumblebee has calmed down over time he's too quiet.

Eventually Ratchet takes Prowl & Bumblebee(Bee mostly cause he doesn't want to leave Prowl) aside/to a quieter room to explain Bumblebee thanks to the stress & trauma of losing someone important to him caused Bee to end up with trauma based select muteness. Physically he's fine but the grief/stress & trauma he went through has led to Bumblebee struggling to process his voice.(Made worse by the fact a lot of this happened after finally having the chance to process everything that happened recently after Megatron was defeated) Everyone has gotten use to it by now but it's sad that their friend/teammate/kind of adopted family member is struggling thanks to everything that has happened. The only comfort is that the fight against Megatron is over & Bee despite helping out with day-to-day life in Detroit can have all the time he needs to process everything & has the support of his team/found family.

The rest is just Prowl getting use to the changes that happened while he was away & reconnecting with Bee as Prowl helps him process his trauma. Maybe with the chance of Bumblebee slowly recovering his voice as he gets help.

If Prowl is sparkmates with Bumblebee it's just two bots able to be with their lover again. The fact they're sparkmates might help Bumblebee be more willing to "talk"(likely use a datapad to write stuff out) to Prowl about his struggles & convince Bee to get therapy. Maybe some moments were they go on dates, have moments alone & maybe thanks to new recruits being curious some moments were Prowl & Bee(with help) talk about earlier moments of their relationship & how they became a couple over time.

If Prowl & Bee aren't sparkmates then maybe Prowl starts to realize he wants to be in a relationship with Bee & works out how to court him after Bumblebee recovers some/is use to Prowl being back in his life. Prowl starting to fall for Bee over time & trying to find a way to see if Bee would be interested in seeing if they could try being a couple & later becoming sparkmates. Bee has some struggles "talking"(any form of non-verbal communication) to people about the trauma/grief he dealt with but with Prowl doing his best to be close with Bee again it might help the minibot slowly open up to him. After they become close Bee confesses to Prowl that at some point he had feelings for Prowl but wasn't confident enough to confess & Prowl wanting to be with him as well as support Bee's journey to getting better helped the minibot try to act on these feelings & try to get closer with Prowl. Seems both wanted to court each other & it's only after Bee had the strength to "talk" about his feelings along with Prowl finally talking to him about the idea that they finally realize & can accept the want to be a couple.

Bee's feelings for Prowl made things worse when Prowl sacrificed himself. He'd never see him again, they'd never get to spend time together nor work together again & in the version were they weren't already together Bee would never get the possible chance to confess to Prowl. Yet here he is, Prowl came back & they get the chance to be together again. Things aren't perfect, the two still need to work things out even if they are a couple now, getting use to changes & Bee still has trauma to deal with(depending on what you choose he's only starting to get his voice back or hasn't gotten his voice yet) however they're doing better than a month ago/when Prowl woke up.

They're still on a long path of recovery but they have each other & the support of others. They're home again, they're together & either are sparkmates or dating with the eventuality of becoming sparkmates & to them there's nowhere else they want to be.(I have no idea how to end this)

#or at least I try to make one #transformers #transformers animated #tfa prowl #tfa bumblebee #prowlbee #beeprowl #my writing

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 1 year ago

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Echoes of the Past (Angst)

2003!Donatello x reader

Donatello has had problems with PTSD after all of the things he and his brothers have been through. One day he accidentally shocks himself, causing him to have a panic attack, causing you to step in to help.

Both you and Donatello are aged up to at least their early twenties.

Warnings: Description of triggering, description of a person having a panic attack, mentioning of torture.

------------------------------------

It was no secret that Donatello had been through a lot. His teenage years had been hard on both him and his brothers, causing all of them sleepless nights every now and then.

When you first meet Donatello in his teens it was not unusual for him to stay up at night, to work in his lab on whatever project he had set his mind to. Neither was it when the two of you started dating, and when you officially started your relationship. But what you learned as time went on, was that Donatello didn’t stay up just to work on his genius ideas, but because he just couldn’t sleep sometimes. And as time went on it became a way for him to keep his mind occupied. It was a way to distract himself so he wouldn’t think of the things that brought him stress and anxiety.

For Donnie, these painful thoughts would show themself when he was laying in bed, trying to fall asleep. Some nights were better than others, but there were those nights where he just couldn’t stand it. There were times when the two of you had gotten to bed, all cuddled up in each other’s arms underneath a warm blanket. You would fall asleep, but sometimes Donnie wouldn’t. He would just lay there with his eyes closed, trying his hardest to fall asleep. He would try to ignore the horrible memories that come to the forefront of his mind. The feeling of pain in his leg before he turned into… a monster. His time in a parallel future… his brothers dying in front of him. When he thought Splinter had died because of him… The triceraton…

No.

Donnie couldn’t think about it. He wouldn’t think about it. It was hurting him too much. So instead of thinking about those horrible things, he would get out of bed and go straight to the lab.

You knew what troubled Donnie’s mind. And you knew Donnie didn’t like to talk about it. Those few times you had tried to bring it up, he would simply smile and dismiss it, as if there was nothing wrong. But something was wrong. Yet you knew better than to push your boyfriend to talk about something he wasn’t ready for. Instead you would wake up and find his side of the bed empty. Sometimes you would just go back to sleep, and sometimes you would check on him. Just like you did that night when the barrier finally broke.

You had woken up to find Donnie’s side of the bed empty once again, and then went to check on him in the lab. He was sitting hunched over, working on some brightly colored wiring, determination in his eyes.

You went to his side and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. “What are you working on?”, you asked, showing the same interest you always had in the things Donnie was working with.

“Just updating the computer”, he answered, nodding towards the computer monitor to his left, sounding quite happy and cherry. It made you happy to know that these things had a positive impact on his mood. “The processor was getting a bit slow, and it was starting to agitate me slightly. Then I realized I could-”.

There was a loud zap from the wires Donnie was handling and he jolted back in shock. The wires had electrocuted him. Not enough to cause damage, but enough for him to feel a slight pain. But that was not what was worrying you. It was the look on his face. Sheer shock, starting at the wires in the table, his hand still in the air, shaking. He was shaking yet frozen in place.

“Donnie?”

He didn’t answer. Fear flashed in his eyes as you saw the other hand on his chair tighten its grip on the arm rest. It didn’t take more than a mere second for you to realize what was going on.

“Donnie, look at me”, you said very calmly, taking his shaking hand in yours. Your trembling boyfriend turned to look at you. His eyes were forming tears and his breath was shallow and rabid. You could only imagine how horrible it must be for him. To sit in the one in the whole lair he had considered his safe space - the place he could go to when his thoughts and memories became too much - only to be reminded of that day with the triceratons. When they tortured him for information. Electrocuted him to make him speak. And now, so many years later, every thought and feeling he had in that exact moment rushed back in.

Carefully you spun the chair Donnie was sitting in, so that his back was turned to the computer. You then crouched down in front of him, stroking his hand with your thumb. Donnie watched you, fighting to calm himself down, yet his breathing only became more uneven.

You took Donnie’s other hand, softly stroking that too. “Breath with me, Donnie. Focus on my breathing”.

Donnie nodded, listening as you started breathing audibly, taking air in before breathing it out. Shakingly he followed your lead, feeling his own throat fight against him. You encouraged him, told him he was doing good, and helped him focus on his breathing.

Then came the tears. With a loud sob they started rolling down his face, his shoulders shaking as more came. Instinctively you pulled him into a hug, holding him close while stroking his neck. Donnie hid his face against the side of your neck as he pulled you up on his lap, and continued sobbing as he held you close. You did not need to ask him what he needed. At that moment you were all he needed while he got his build up feelings out.

You sat with him for what felt like hours, supportively stroking his neck and head while whispering every possible thing you could think of to him. When he stopped crying, he still held you tightly in his arms for a moment, before you pulled back slightly to look at him in his blood shot eyes.

“Do you want something to drink?”, you asked him, softly stroking his cheek with your thumb.

“Yes please”, Donnie answered, his throat sore. It never ceased to amaze you how polite he could be, even when his emotions arise.

“Would you like anything else?”

“Hugs would be nice”.

You smiled before placing a kiss on Donatello’s forehand. “Then come. We’ll get you some water and then get you to bed”.

—

When the two of you got back to bed, Donnie was understandably tired. His eyelids were heavy as his breath once again was calm and steady. He was laying with his head against your chest, his arms wrapped around you, listening to your heart as he slowly started to drift to sleep. You were tracing your fingers over his head, shoulders and shell, hearing an audible sigh of relief coming from him.

After a moment, Donnie lifted his head to look up at you, his own fingers ever so slowly starting to trace up and down your side.

“Thank you”, he said, his voice low and soft. “Thank you for being so patient and nice to me”.

You smiled softly before placing yet another kiss on his forehead. “After everything you have done to protect me and the rest of the world, that’s the least I can do”.

Donnie smiled a little before laying his head back down against your chest, focusing on his fingers as they ran up your side once more.

“I love you, (Y/N)”.

You smiled, softly tracing over Donnie’s head one more time, causing him to relax even further into you. “I love you too, Donnie”.

It was no secret Donatello had been through a lot. But slowly, one step at the time, the two of you would figure it out together.

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dragon-queen21 · 4 months ago

Note

Hey I don't know if requests are okay or not but I have a request,baby Aether and dada Diluc hcs, again I don't know if requests are open for not if not then so sorry

Regressor Aether + cg Diluc Headcanons

Request are most certainly open! (as long as the inbox buttons says “requests” feel free to send me some :D same goes for any thoughts or ideas that you have. I tend to answer those a bit quicker just as an fyi)

Onto to talking about my favorite characters!!!

~~~

~Aether who’s a first like “I don’t regress that small” and normally he doesn’t when he’s with his sister.

~Only he didn’t take in account how stressed he’s been since coming to tevyat and how nice it is to finally be looked after by someone.

~First time Diluc takes care of him: Instantly baby space

~Aether has so many stuffed animals all in an attempt to keep the regressor from carrying Paimon around like one

~If he’s not being carried Aether will simply follow around Diluc like a baby duckling. Something that was definitely pointed out to the two of them when they went out to the city

~Diluc absolutely puts his foot down to Aether taking on commissions when he’s regressed.

~I like to think that in Mondstadt it isn’t uncommon to have people regress in public and when out a couple of times people have come up asking a favor of Aether who is clearly regressed and Diluc just loses it a little. Because really, can’t people solves their own petty issues?

~Diluc trying to teach the little one boundaries and learning how to say no. Simple things like choosing what to have to eat or what activities he wants to do. Because Aether really will go along with anything, and while adorable as it is his caregiver is aware of just how much Aether says yes to on more serious matters that wear aware at his health.

~Aether comes back from Liuye with a makeup pallet the consequences of which lead to Diluc going to work with red eyeshadow and sparkly eyeliner because he promised the little one he wouldn’t take it off for the rest of the day (He totally drags Kaeya into being Aether’s next ‘victim’ when his brother kept teasing him)

~ Aether working himself up into a near panic attack once because he wants to ask Diluc to be his caregiver because sure he hangs around Diluc small but it’s not like the man is his ‘official’ caregiver or anything. He is so scared of rejection. Which he would understand why Diluc would say no, because obviously he's hardly ever in Mondstadt, and the few times he is doesn't mean that Diluc would want to deal with a mentally two year old, let alone see him at all, and he realizes he is a lot to handle and his regression isn't always pretty and...(insert Aether spiraling for the next however long)

~Diluc meanwhile who just, already assumed he was Aether's caregiver. Just kind of took upon the role without asking. Like, he watches over the boy whenever he's around, has a box filled with toys and custom made pacifiers. Does... does that not count or...?

#mayliz rambles #genshin impact agere #agere headcanons #fandom agere #age regression #sfw agere #age regression headcanons #genshin agere #age regressor #fictional caregiver #wow okay I didn’t realize how long this post was #i just love them a lot

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john-get-the-salt · 1 year ago

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Soothing (w/rick grimes)

Imagine: Ever since the world went to shit, your anxiety levels have been through the roof. Turns out there's only one thing, or rather one family, that can help ease your stress.

Contains: domestic rick, baby judith, reader being referred to with fem titles, no appearance of Carl sorry just imagine he’s off doing dumb shit

Warnings: none

Relax, you made it home!

You glared down at the doormat as you shoved a key inside the lock and opened the front door. The house you shared with the Grimes family was quaint, with lots of terrible quotes stitched onto pillows and corny sayings carved into wood and hung on walls. The decor remained untouched, exactly the same as the day you moved in.

But, you thought as you let yourself into the house, it might be time to burn that stupid doormat. It didn’t matter how long you spent in Alexandria–you would not be relaxing. Last time you made the mistake of letting your guard down the world taught you a lesson in the form of a psychotic governor. You wouldn’t be making that mistake twice.

Alexandria had been a much needed reprieve, but you hadn’t forgotten the years spent out in the wild. The months spent constantly moving, in search of food and water and any sense of safety. Living with anxiety and fear every day for such an extended period of time left you permanently on edge. So yes, while Alexandria was certainly nice, you weren’t holding your breath. After all….you’d all thought the prison was secure too.

You shook your head to get rid of the the sudden flashing images and memories that came up at the mere thought of the prison. If you let yourself go down that path now you’d be useless for the rest of the day.

As you mentally scolded yourself for becoming distracted, you walked further into the house and then up the stairs to the second floor. You’d come in for a very specific reason. It was Rick’s turn to take a shift on the wall and you wanted to offer to cover it for him. He seemed extra tired lately, and you worried to death he was stretching himself too thin.

However when you got to the landing at the top of the stairs, you froze. A soft voice was coming from one of the bedrooms, and after a moment you recognized it as Rick’s. You stepped closer, avoiding the floorboards you’d learned were creaky, and peaked into the room.

Rick was sitting in a rocking chair with Judith in his lap. He was showing her pictures and talking to her softly.

"This is Carl. He's your big brother."

Judith spit out a bit of jibberish as she grabbed the picture of her brother in her little fist and shook it aggressively. You held a hand over your mouth in an attempt to hide your giggles as Rick tried to gently pry it from her fingers. He finally did, and moved on to the next picture.

He showed her a picture of himself, and Judith pointed from the picture to him. "Daaa," she squeaked, clapping her hands.

Rick's smile was so big it could've outshone the stars, and your heart melted at the adorable sight in front of you. You were about to leave them in peace, dead set on taking his wall shift now, when Rick spoke up again and caught your attention.

"And last but not least..." He trailed off and curiosity got the best of you so you peeked further in.

Rick was showing Judith a picture of you.

The picture was of you, sitting a table with a giant bowl in front of you and a big smile on your face. It was a simple picture, but it had such a meaningful story attached to it.

Last season, around the time you guessed was your birthday, Rick surprised you with a giant ice cream sundae. Sundaes had come up during random pillow talk one night as one of the random things about pre-apocalypse you missed. You thought it was rather silly, but Rick did not. He made you the ice cream with Carol's ice cream maker and bartered with the neighbors to get some of your favorite toppings. It meant so much to you.

Judith pointed at the picture, giggling, and said, "Ma."

For a split second your heart stopped and you could barely breathe.

Rick stopped rocking and looked down at his happy daughter as she reached for your picture, desperate to get her hands on it.

"That's right, Judith. That’s your Mama."

Your eyes began watering and you couldn’t hold back as you sniffed. Rick looked up at the noise, and his eyes softened even more once he spotted you.

You stepped into the room and Judith finally noticed you, smile growing as she got excited and reached her arms out toward you.

"Hi Judith," you cooed.

Rick stood from the rocking chair and you met them, taking your sweet girl into your arms. She didn’t hesitate to bury her face into your neck, murmuring in her special language that no one else could understand.

And just like that, you could feel some of your own anxiety leave you. The tension in your shoulders eased, face smoothing of frown lines. Your entire body sagged with a sudden wave of exhaustion. You leaned into Rick and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and Judith before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you look peaceful in a while,” Rick murmured quietly, careful not to disturb Judith who had already closed her eyes in the comfort of your arms.

“It’s been bad lately,” you said truthfully. Since the very first time you and Rick discussed being a couple you vowed to always be honest with each other. And that included being honest about your feelings-both good and bad.

Rick knew you didn’t need him to push, you would share more when you were ready. He just continue to hold you tightly.

You allowed your eyes to close, not an easy feat, but in Rick’s arms you felt loved and comfortable and safe.

The romantic moment was broken up when Judith stirred on your shoulder and then Rick was letting out a wince.

You opened your eyes to find her with one of Rick’s curls in her hand as she pulled on it eagerly.

The two of you chuckled as Judith showed off a toothy grin.

Rick rested his forehead against yours and you took this moment to just bask in being with part of your family.

"I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too."

You would do anything for this dysfunctional little family of yours.

Anything.

#imagine #fanfic #drabble #writing #the walking dead #twd #rick grimes #twd rick #twd imagine #twd fanfiction #twd fandom #rick grimes x reader #x reader imagine #x reader

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mynameisnotsoda · 11 months ago

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A Brief History of Studentbur (according to me)

After recent events I'm renaming studentbur to Adam Will Bishop, it's not a big change but i don't wanna use Wilbur as a name for the bursonas anymore. I'll probably give the rest their own names as well at some point.

Adam's parents are heavily Christian, growing up they never let him express himself as he wanted to. He used to ask for dolls, girls clothes, etc. generally more "girly" things cause pink was his favorite color as a kid. Eventually he learned to stop asking, and to shut up and be grateful for what he was given whether he liked it or not.

Adam isn't allowed to do ANYTHING with his hair, he prefers to keep it short (which his parents want anyway) but he wishes they would let him cut it differently or dye it.

One time when he was younger (maybe 4/5) he got nipped with scissors while getting a haircut and he cried so hard he threw up. He was so scared of getting cut again that he refused to go for months, which only made his dad pissed, so he started cutting Wilbur's hair himself.

As the only child Adam receives ALL his parents attention, good and bad, he feels suffocated by them. His mom is overbearing with severely untreated anxiety and his dad is a very.. traditional man. He's the cause for most of Adam's distress with being himself.

He's gotten REALLY good at bottling up his emotions until he explodes. Usually his pent up emotions just lead to him sobbing uncontrollably for hours, while hiding away in his room after everyone's already gone to bed, just so he doesn't get punished for having feelings.

Adam went to this k-12 Christian school up until sophomore year. He was really isolated since EVERYONE knew each other they basically grew up together. So he didn't have a chance at making more friends after a while.

For the longest time he had trouble making and keeping friends, he was the obnoxious weird kid and eventually his parents and his peers broke him down. He's horrified of social interaction and the genetically inherited anxiety disorder doesn't help either.

Once he switched to public school he was noticeably less stressed. Even his parents noticed the improvement so they didn't bother pestering him about going to a different Christian school instead. If it weren't for his mom he probably would've been sent off somewhere he didn't choose, she's not a great parent but definitely the lesser of two evils.

Adam tried to befriend Tommy at first but once he saw how loud and annoying he was he kinda backed off and tried ignoring him (except Tommy wouldn't allow that because he needs to know EVERYONE)

He didn't befriend Charlie until after he started going by "Chad Bussy" and became one of the cool kids. (Ps. Charlie's the foreign exchange student and Ran moved there when they were younger) Charlie immediately liked Adam and basically claimed him as his best friend the moment Adam started trying to get to know him. He loves yapping and Adam loves listening, although a lot of the time he'll trick Adam into talking about himself and his interests.

Adam and Charlie have been best friends for two years, that's when he finally confesses after having feelings for Charlie for maybe a few months

This is so messy but yeah !!!! Here's some other miscellaneous stuff about the au that doesn't completely revolve around Adam

Adam's parents hate Tommy, he's too loud, too vulgar and is very disrespectful (in their eyes). They like Charlie but he despises them. They hate Ran just cause they're queer. They are kinda indifferent to Bill but he doesn't like them so he avoids going to Wilbur's place when he can.

Tommy has a few friend groups he's apart of but really likes sticking with Adam, he loves annoying the shit out of him. (And his brother, Techno, is 12 years older than him. So. He likes having a brother that's closer to his age)

Dr. Hilton and Mr. Marriot are two separate people who look oddly similar. Dr. Hilton was Adam's abuser at his old school but hasn't seen him since.

Mr. Marriot is just the goofy English teacher who desperately wants to be seen as the "cool teacher" by his students. He's painfully aware of Adam's discomfort towards him and has no idea why (because he never wants to talk about it)

Adam's the only person who's allowed to call Charlie, Charlie. Everyone else has to say Chad Bussy or Charles (Charles being mainly just for the teachers)

Adam, Charlie, Tommy, Bill and Ran end up being close friends!! (They end up staying friends after highschool too :3)

Once the squad (courtesy of Charlie and nobody else having a better group name) graduates they basically follow Charlie back to America. Charlie's parents are actually pretty wealthy so they stay with him for college !

This has been in my drafts for weeks 😭😭

#Spotify #bursona #bursonas #sodapoppys ramblings #he means so much to me #the religously traumatized loser ever actually #hes been my favorite since the video came out (even tho i had no idea wtf bursonas were)#tom simons vlog #studentbur #save me studentbur save me/ref

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itsjuststardust · 6 months ago

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Heaven in Hiding - Chapter 5: In the Woods Somewhere

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The Mandalorian and his new companions, Alaina and Grogu, make it to Sorgan. The three set out to explore their new planet, and the Mandalorian gets to learn a little about Alaina’s mysterious beskar serpent dagger. The two try to navigate their tentative truce. Or is there too much damage done between them?

Word Count: 11,529

Author Notes/Chapter Warnings: This chapter is a little bit of a beast. Some dialogue and descriptions are taken from Chapter 4: Sanctuary. You'll know it when you see it, but the rest is all mine. Chapter title and 🎵soundtrack🎵 for this chapter is Hozier's In the Woods Somewhere. Chapter warnings for this chapter are probably just canon typical violence, alcohol use, and descriptions of blood. And angst. A lot of angst 😈 MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY

Chapter 5: In the Woods Somewhere

Alaina stepped out of the fresher, and Mando stopped playing with the kid to check on her, earning him a disgruntled spitting noise from the green womp rat once he realized the Mandalorian’s sole focus was no longer directed at him.

“Do you know that no matter what direction you turn the dial in the shower, the water stays cold?” Alaina asked with a frown.

He smirked, “Yeah, the heating coil went out a couple of years ago." Mando had forgotten about that. He never bothered to fix it because he was never in there long enough to let it bother him. Besides, after a long hunt, the cold water was refreshing. Alaina appeared less than impressed by that fact. He eyed her for another minute before asking, "What do you think?”

Alaina gave him an unimpressed glower. “I think that after five years of torture, it’s not too much to ask for a hot shower,” she snarked. “And I want to wash my hair,” she pouted, pulling her braid of honey-golden hair over her shoulder to pick at the frayed ends.

“No one is stopping you from washing your hair,” he pointed out. “I told you that you could use anything in there.”

Green eyes looked up from her braid to give him an annoyed glare.

“What?” he questioned.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Grogu going for the bag of pastries he brought back from town with him. Mando grabbed the paper sack before the bottomless pit could eat anymore and placed it on top of the crate he was sitting up against, out of the toddler’s reach. Grogu squealed that the treats were now out of his reach and attempted to climb over the Mandalorian to get to the sweets.

“Stop it,” Mando warned him, pushing the kid's hand down when he tried to reach for the bag again. “You’ve had three already.”

The kid grumbled but fell on his bottom on top of his thighs, seemingly declaring defeat. For now.

A sweet giggle pulled his attention from the kid, and Mando turned his helmet just in time to see Alaina school her features. The ghost of a smile let him know she was amused by his interactions with the kid.

After landing on Sorgan, it was like Alaina let a layer of her armor fall away. One moment, her green eyes were hardened steel orbs; the next, they reflected the green trees visible from the viewport. Both Alaina and the kid’s eyes shined with wonder at the forest around the ship.

Mando had landed the Razor Crest in a well-concealed area in the forest a click away from one of the higher populated towns. He figured that would at least give them a slight variation of options that the smaller villages wouldn’t.

After he deemed their immediate surroundings clear, he lowered the ramp to give his two passengers a chance to get out to stretch their legs. It had been a stressful couple of days of travel for everyone, and he knew the fresh air would do everyone, including himself, some good.

The kid all but ran down the ramp into the forest.

Alaina… Alaina was… Alaina. She was guarded and reserved. The initial wonderment was gone, replaced with cold, calculating eyes. One green eye was trained on him, and the other on their new environment.

He didn’t know what to expect from the woman at this point. Nothing would take away her pain from the last five years, and she had certainly made it clear about her feelings toward him.

A memory floated to the front of his mind, one that tended to surface more than others. The two of them were down in the hold. The ballerina had just challenged him to a fight. He shook his head, remembering how naive he’d been about her abilities. Magic powers notwithstanding. Just the way she could move. How she expertly twirled around him. How her green eyes sparked with life and excitement, and she smiled. He remembered their brief chase through the hold and how she could elegantly evade him… it was a work of art.

He wanted her to be able to do that again.

He’d heard the colloquialism: time heals all wounds… He wasn’t sure he completely believed that, but maybe with time and a safe place to heal, Alaina could find a piece of her old self again.

Mando leaned against the ship and watched Grogu play. The kid dug through the pine needles and chased a lizard. His delighted giggles were a welcome sound after the last couple of days.

Alaina elected to observe from inside the ship at first. Mando let her explore on her own terms. He wanted her to feel comfortable, and there was no rush for their first day.

Two days in hyperdrive and all Mando could hear when he tried to close his eyes for even a moment was Alaina’s cries after she sobbed into his neck or her screams before he had woken her from her nightmare. Those were enough of a burden on their own... but it was her words that would haunt him the most.

“Just know that I’ll never forgive you.”

Yellow came into his periphery as he relived her words again, and he watched from a distance as Alaina cautiously tip-toed down the ramp. Her green eyes looked at him as if she were asking for permission, and Mando nodded his helmet for her to continue.

He pretended not to watch her. His focus was on Grogu, so it was easy enough to look like he wasn't paying her any mind. Of course, that’s where the three-sixty-degree vision on his helmet came in handy. It allowed him to watch the kid but still make sure Alaina wasn't wandering off too far or be prepared for any intruders attempting to sneak up on them.

It didn’t take too long for the kid to notice Alaina had finally made it out of the ship, and he came running for her. Well, whatever constituted running for the squat green womp rat, anyway. It didn’t change the fact that the kid was eager to see that Alaina had finally decided to join him, making it slightly difficult for Mando to continue to pretend he was ignoring the blonde.

The kid darted around in the soft vegetation, and Alaina smiled as she watched him, giggling a little when he slipped on a damp pile of leaves and fell.

Eventually, the tortured woman took a cautious step off the ramp, and her giggles intensified once her bare feet touched the soft forest floor. She didn’t even care that he was watching from his spot. She just smiled, grabbed the kid with her good arm, and spun him around, causing him to squeal with delight.

When she finally stopped spinning, it was in a beam of sunlight.

From his position back at the ship, the patch of sunlight made her golden honey hair glow, giving her a slightly ethereal look in the morning light.

Mando couldn’t even think of the last time he’d used the word ethereal, much less actually called someone that. And if that wasn’t difficult enough for him to comprehend, she turned to smile at him. An actual smile, like the one she had five years ago—

“Mando?”

He blinked and was back on the Crest’s floor, with the kid in his lap and Alaina staring at him with curious green eyes.

“Mando? Hello?” she waved and frowned at him. “You have that helmet on all the time,” she grumbled. “Did you fall asleep?”

“No,” he recovered quickly, and Alaina looked at him skeptically. “You can still wash your hair, though. I said you could use anything in there,” he finished, remembering what they were talking about before he had slipped into his daydream.

The skeptical stare only intensified.

“Is it your shoulder?” Oh, he was stupid. Of course, it was her shoulder. She probably hadn’t regained much mobility yet and couldn’t lift her injured arm high enough. “I could—um—well, if you wanted to, I could help you?”

Her eyebrows rose high into her forehead, “You don’t have much experience with women, do you?”

He choked at the question, causing the kid to give him an alarmed look from his lap.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she deadpanned, and all Mando could do was rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “Because if you did, you would know that we generally require more than a single bar of soap to wash our hair. Especially when you have this much hair,” she finished waving the braid around before she tossed it back over her shoulder.

“Noted,” Mando nodded, placing the kid on the ground to walk closer to Alaina. It was easy to forget how short the woman was until he towered over her. Alaina’s green eyes quickly darted down to break eye contact when he approached her. He wanted to sigh at the submissive act but didn't want to make it worse. He'd just have to hope that his actions now would eventually speak louder than the ones from five years ago, and the woman would eventually start to trust him. “What do you think about the clothes? They fit okay?” he asked, changing the subject.

It was the first thing he did once they finished their time outside. He couldn’t stand seeing her in that flimsy hospital gown for another minute. So, he left her to watch the kid on the ship under the guise of ‘checking out’ the settlement they landed close to.

Not that he didn’t do some reconnaissance while he was out, but he was on a different mission.

Besides, Alaina seemed slightly relieved to have some time to herself, so Mando decided he wouldn't rush his mini-expedition.

The settlement wasn't very large. It had most of the staples of every other small town he'd visited. There was a cantina that appeared to be popular, even in the morning hours. There was a small inn that he made a mental note to remember. Maybe a hot meal and shower would help sway Alaina slightly. There was a street with various vendor carts selling an assortment of products. One of the carts had fresh pastries out that smelled so delicious he decided he would get some for them all for breakfast to give them a break from the ration packs. At the end of the market street, he found a stall owned by a tailor and an assortment of pre-made clothes on display.

The man who owned the shop didn't seem the least bit nervous that his stall was being visited by a Mandalorian and greeted Mando with a friendly smile. Honestly, the man reminded him a bit of Kuiil. Calm and grandfatherly. The owner listened when Mando gave him a list of specifications for the outfit—it needed to be durable and able to adapt to various weather conditions because who knew where they would end up. The owner just nodded as he walked around his booth and helped him pick an outfit suitable for someone of Alaina’s smaller stature. The business owner was even kind enough not to comment when Mando became embarrassed about picking out undergarments after the older asked if his companion would need any.

He eyed the completed ensemble on the petite blonde woman.

It was practical. A pair of dark grey tactical pants with extra pockets ran along the side. She had the tan leather utility belt he purchased looped through the pants to help keep them on. The belt had attachments available to hold a few smaller weapons if needed.

The tailor had originally picked out a white linen shirt, but Mando stopped him when he spotted a dark green top that reminded him of the forest and her eyes, so he purchased that one instead.

“Surprisingly, yes,” Alaina confirmed with a shrug. She went to spread her arms out to show him but winced when she tried to stretch out her right shoulder.

Mando shook his head and turned to get the new sling he had made for her after cutting up his old cloak while she had been in the shower.

“You don’t have to ruin your wardrobe just for me,” she muttered when he returned and helped fit her arm into the sling before slipping it over her neck. “Besides, you don’t look nearly as intimidating without your cloak. I don’t know how you’re going to scare people without it,” she snarked with a whisp of a smile.

Mando smirked, tilting his helmet slightly at her. “Careful,” he warned, “that almost sounded like a joke.”

Alaina gave him the smallest smirk but bowed her head to hide it from him.

He would take their newfound gentle repartee as a small victory. Another small crack in her armor.

He turned to head to one of the crates in the back. The kid grabbed his boot as he walked by him and clung to him while he crossed the hold. The kid giggled at his overexaggerated steps and tugged excitedly on his boot for Mando to do it again. “Hang on, kid. We’ll go exploring in a minute,” he told Grogu while he riffled through the crate until he found what he was looking for.

With a dramatic flourish, he whipped out a new cloak for Alaina to see. “I have backups,” he shrugged. "They don’t tend to have a long shelf life with me,” he explained while he wrapped the dark grey fabric around his neck. Come on, I’ll help you with your boots. The kid might spontaneously combust if we don’t head out soon.”

Alaina smiled at the kid who was still clinging to his boot and nodded.

Alaina let out a soft gasp when Mando grabbed her by her waist and lifted her up to sit on the crate without a second thought. Before he did anything else, he passed her the bag of pastries he’d placed out of reach of the kid. Alaina fingered the brown bag nervously, and he nodded to her to go ahead.

“It’s okay,” she shook her head and pushed the bag back to him. “You and Grogu eat, I’ll have what’s left.”

“That is all that’s left,” he countered, shoving the bag back to her. “I had one on the way back. I let the kid have some and turned away for a second, and the little womp rat had already three. I had to keep the kid from eating the last one while you were in the shower.”

He started fumbling with a pair of thick socks to put on her, but he paused when he saw her scarred, misshapen toes.

“It's okay. I don’t mind those scars,” she told him nervously, fiddling with the paper bag. “That’s what twenty-something years of dancing on stress fractures looks like,” she shrugged.

Mando blinked but didn’t say anything as he continued to put on her socks and boots. He fiddled with the boots to ensure they weren’t too big for her before lacing them up and buckling the ankle straps.

“Oh—My—Stars,” Alaina moaned, surprising him as he finished the last boot. He looked up to see her with her eyes closed and a mouth full of the pastries he had brought back for them. “Oh, Maker, I forgot what sugar tasted like,” she said with her mouth full.

Mando smirked and stood to watch her close her eyes as she savored another bite.

“No, but seriously, did you have one of these?” she asked, holding up the sugary, jam-filled pastry in front of his helmet.

He nodded at her, smiling at the excitement that was in her voice.

"I don't blame you for trying to eat the whole bag, little one," Alaina said, smiling down at Grogu as she finished the pastry. Now that she was looking down, she moved her feet from side to side to inspect her boots while she licked her fingers clean. “These are heavy,” she commented, swinging her feet and letting them bang against the crate to prove her point.

“They’re durable,” he countered practically. “You can’t run around barefoot, and your slippers wouldn’t last a day hiking through the forest,” he finished, nodding to her dancing slippers hanging by their ribbons off a bolt on the wall behind them.

Alaina frowned and kicked her legs out again, trying to hold them up in the air before dropping them dramatically. “I’m kind of surprised you figured out my sizes. Even I had a hard time finding clothes that fit me back—well, back when I used to pick out my wardrobe. The shirt is a little big, but the pants actually fit great,” she commented, pulling at the hem of her pants around her waist.

Mando smirked and helped her off the crate. “I just told the tailor I needed clothes for a twelve-year-old boy,” he teased.

The smile fell off Alaina’s face and was replaced with an incredulous look before dissolving into a snort. “You’re an ass!” she scoffed, weakly shoving at his chest with her good arm.

Mando’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin, and he chuckled at Alaina’s incredulous look.

He turned away from her to grab the finishing touches for her wardrobe. His grin refused to leave his face when Alaina’s scoffs turned into laughter that echoed around the hold.

“Did you hear that, Grogu?” she asked the kid. “Mando thinks he’s funny,” she snarked.

When he turned back to join his two new companions, something warm settled in his chest at the sight of Alaina kneeling on the ground, reaching out to tickle the kid’s sides to make him giggle.

“Yeah, he thinks he’s funny, but I’ll let you in on a little secret, Grogu,” Alaina whispered and stopped tickling the kid to lean in to fake whisper in his large ear. “I can remember a time when the big, scary Mandalorian told me that he thought I was beauti—"

He tilted his helmet when she abruptly stopped her story. He studied Alaina, who stared at him with huge eyes as she saw what was in his arms.

“Is—Is that my cloak?” she stuttered, pointing to the green velvet cloak he had draped over his arm.

Mando nodded.

He’d kept all her belongings. He’d even managed to get the blood from her head wound out of the cloak, but the cloak and her satchel of belongings had just gathered dust in one of his storage closets for the last five years. Well… All of her belongings except for her dagger, which he had appropriated for himself.

But it was time to return that to its rightful owner, too.

Alaina slowly stood up and stared at the green cloak with her green doe eyes. She pursed her lips and looked up from the garment to his helmet. Her emerald eyes studied him intently for a moment before dropping to look back at the cloak quickly as if she were worried it would disappear if she didn’t look at it.

“You kept it?”

He nodded again.

Her eyes somehow met his behind his helmet, “Why?”

Mando walked forward and shook out the cloak. He didn’t have an answer for her, not one that would make sense anyway.

He draped her cloak around her shoulders. Alaina’s eyes stayed locked on his while he continued to fit the cloak around her.

“You’re filled with regret,” she whispered, scrunching her face together as if she didn’t believe what she just said.

A sigh left him, and he nodded at her after he finished tying the strings of the cloak at the bottom of her neck, securing it so it wouldn’t fall off.

Alaina looked down, breaking eye contact with him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She grabbed the green velvet in her hand, and her thumb ran along the gold thread that outlined the trim.

Mando tilted his helmet, confused. Sorry? Why would she be… Oh. Oh.

“Can you read minds?” he asked, trying to keep his nerves out of his voice.

Alaina looked back at him with a frown. “Does that make you nervous?” she asked, raising a challenging eyebrow.

“Don’t we all have things we want to keep to ourselves?”

The accusatory look fell off Alaina’s face and was replaced with one of understanding.

“No,” she shook her head. "Despite Pershing’s best efforts, I can’t read minds—not in the way you think. I can read feelings and emotions, though,” she informed him.

“He is… He is a man of his word.”

Alaina nervously wrung the cloak between her hands, “It’s not something I can turn off. I’m sorry.”

He nodded.

“I have to really focus on someone, though, to read them accurately. Otherwise, it’s kind of like background noise,” she explained, tapping her head. Alaina frowned, “I didn’t think—I should have told you.”

“It’s okay,” he told her.

“I promise not to do that to you all the time.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, appreciative that she’d even told him that much in the first place. Maybe she was trying to figure out how to trust him after all.

The hold was silent as green eyes and silver beskar stared at one another. He could tell that she had more questions, and Mando waited patiently for Alaina to try to find her words. She was quiet while she studied him, and he could tell by the nervous way she chewed on her bottom lip that she was working up the courage to say something else.

“Can I ask you something?” Alaina’s voice came out quiet, barely above a whisper.

He nodded for her to continue and braced himself for whatever question she had. Her eyes were his normal indicator of her emotions. Unfortunately, with the elevated emotions over the last couple of days since their escape, he’d learned they weren’t quite the best barometer for gauging her feelings at any given moment.

“Why hang on to my things… My shoes, my cloak, my dagger,” she finished, pointing to the beskar blade that he had tucked into his belt while they were escaping the Imp’s holdout on Nevarro. “I was just a job…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I don’t understand why you have that much regret for me.”

Mando stared at her momentarily before taking a step closer to her. He reached for the oversized hood and pulled it up to cover her head. The hood would be good to hide her recognizably bright hair and protect her pale skin from the bright afternoon sun.

“We should get moving if we want to check out the town and find a place to stay for the night,” he said quietly, evading her question for the time being. “Maybe even someplace with hot water so you can wash your hair.”

Alaina nodded, giving him a small, understanding smile when she realized she wouldn’t get her answer.

Before she could turn away from him, Mando grabbed her dagger from his hip.

“I think it’s time you had this back.”

Alaina watched his hands as Mando shifted her cloak around to tuck the weapon into her belt. She fidgeted with the hilt, and he watched her grab the dagger to practice taking it in and out of her belt with her left hand a few times.

Satisfied that she could grab it if she needed, Mando nodded. He bent over to grab the kid off the floor and looked between his companions.

“Ready?”

Alaina kept her head down, watching her feet as they hiked the dirt path through the woods of Sorgan to whatever settlement was nearby.

The boots he picked out for her were heavy, and she had to consciously put one foot in front of the other for fear that she would trip over herself. She wasn’t used to such heavy footwear. Even before, she wore lightweight shoes because they made getting around and dancing easier. Then, after her life drastically changed, her captors learned it was best to keep her as stripped down as possible. After her second escape attempt, they finally took her shoes away. At that point, Alaina had seen enough of the Nevarro landscape between shuttle rides from the smaller compound in the city to the larger base with the main lab to know that her feet would never survive the lava flats. Even if she did, where would she go?

“Where did you get it?”

The Mandalorian’s question broke the silence that had settled around them. His deep baritone, digitized voice sharply contrasted with the soft natural sounds of the woods and startled her out of her inner thoughts.

Alaina snapped her head to look up at the Mandalorian, and she felt her hood fall away, allowing the sunlight peeking through the trees to warm her face. They hadn’t spoken a word to one another since they left the Mandalorian’s ship, and even Grogu seemed content to watch the scenery pass by them in silence from his spot tucked away in the other man’s arms.

Mando’s helmet nodded to the dagger in her hand when she continued to look at him, confused by the question.

After fifteen minutes of walking through the forest in silence, she’d unsheathed the dagger from her belt and had taken to running her fingers over the hilt to pass the time. She inspected the scales along the winding body and the tiny emeralds that made the eyes. Alaina used the quiet moment to reacquaint herself with the serpent dagger Alaina was convinced she had lost five years ago while running from the Mandalorian.

It was easier for her to fidget with her dagger than to think about the Mandalorian's confusing, kind actions.

He’d come back for her because he said it was the right thing to do. He hadn’t done anything to punish her or scare her. In fact, he’d done the opposite. He tended to her dislocated shoulder. He held her and helped her through her panic attack. He came to check on her when he heard her screaming from her nightmare. Hell, he went and used his own credits to buy her real clothes. The Mandalorian had even joked with her.

And that was just her interactions with him. That didn’t include watching him interact with Grogu. He was gentle with the toddler. He played with the Child, for kriff’s sake… The Mandalorian was huge, armored, and intimidating. By all accounts, he should be the antithesis of someone you should feel safe with. Alaina knew that better than anyone. But walking next to him while he carried the Child in his arms, she couldn’t think of a safer place to be.

She wanted to trust him. For the moment, she didn’t have any other options. She couldn’t forgive him for turning her into Pershing and the Empire… But the regret she’d felt coming from the man. There was no pretending or faking that. The Mandalorian was genuine in his feeling… Which just made everything so much more confusing.

The man was a confusing puzzle.

When Grogu turned to smile at her, she realized that she’d been staring at the Mandalorian for longer than what was considered polite.

“It was my mom’s,” she replied quickly, ducking her head to look down at the dagger in her hands. “It’s a fanned rawl. They are native to Naboo, which is where my mom was from,” she explained, resting the dagger in her splayed hands so she could show him. “I can’t remember ever not seeing her with it.”

“And your mother never mentioned it was made of beskar?”

Alaina shook her head and studied the dagger a little closer. The tiny emerald eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun. The Mandalorian had obviously kept it polished and well-maintained over the last five years because the entire weapon gleamed like Mando’s armor. She scrunched her head curiously and turned to hold the dagger up against Mando’s shoulder paldron, noting how the two different pieces were almost the same color. Her dagger was maybe a shade or two brighter than the Mandalorian’s armor, but you could only see that up close. She had no idea the dagger was beskar. She didn’t even know what beskar was until the Empire brought in that camtono to tempt the Mandalorian for payment.

Kind of like how she didn’t know what a Mandalorian was before it was too late.

“Is that a bad thing?” she asked him, pulling the small weapon away from his shoulder.

“No,” he answered quickly, shaking his head. “Just surprising. Beskar is an uncommon metal mined on Mandalore. It is rare to come across it by someone who isn't Mandalorian. Most people who aren't Mandalorian taut or brag that they possess even an ounce of beskar, especially after the Empire destroyed Mandalore.”

Alaina listened to Mando as he spoke, interested in gleaning any information about her mother’s weapon that she could. Her mother loved that dagger, and Alaina regretted not asking more questions while she was alive. Her mother had spoken a little bit about it on her deathbed, but there was so much else to discuss in those final days that the dagger seemed inconsequential at the time.

“Do you know how your mother came across it?” he asked, shifting Grogu around a little when the kid started squirming.

A butterfly with blue wings fluttered by them, and Alaina smiled as she watched Grogu attempt to grab the insect from the air. However, Grogu was out of reach of the butterfly from his spot tucked away in Mando’s arms.

“Why are you so curious about a dagger? It looks to me as if you’ve got plenty of weapons of your own,” she commented, eyeing the rifle that was strapped to the man’s back.

Mando shrugged, but she could tell he was trying to pick his words out carefully. “Just trying to pass the time,” he eventually said, and Alaina didn’t quite believe him but wasn’t going to push him.

Silence stretched between the two of them again.

Alaina looked down to watch her feet clunk in the dirt. Clunky was not a word she was used to being associated with her before, and she didn’t like it.

Her eyes slid to the Mandalorian, who picked them out for her and sighed.

He was making an effort. He bought her clothes and pastries… She supposed she could meet him halfway if he wanted to make polite conversation to pass the time.

“My mom was actually really talented with it,” Alaina told him, flipping the dagger up in the air, easily catching it by the hilt when it landed back in her palm.

Alaina didn’t miss how the Mandalorian’s helmet tilted slightly to indicate he was listening. He even slowed his pace to match hers when she voluntarily continued the conversation.

“Sometimes,” she paused to laugh at the memories running through her mind. “Sometimes, she used to take me to the cantina around the corner from our home for dinner. The back corner was set up with a board for knife-throwing. My mom…” Alaina stopped to smile, remembering her mother when she was healthy. “My mother was beautiful,” she whispered. “She had blonde hair and green eyes like me, but her hair was perfect. Spiral ringlets that were never out of place. It drove me crazy. Anyway, she was beautiful, and it never took long for her to attract some poor soul’s eye. She would goad some poor man into a contest with the agreement that the loser paid the winner’s tab for the evening,” she paused to smile and saw Mando looking at her. “Well, I’ll just say that my mom never paid for anyone’s tabs. Ever.”

“I’m sorry you lost her,” Mando murmured. “She sounds like she was a strong woman.”

Alaina nodded, “She was,” she whispered, trying not to tear up.

She was tired of crying. Even if they were happy tears.

Mando paused their walk and tilted his helmet to look at her. “What about you?” he asked.

“Me?” Alaina asked him, surprised by the question. “I think you and I both know I am not a strong woman.”

He sighed and shook his head at her, which only confused Alaina more. Then he pointed to the dagger in her hands, “You can’t tell me your mother didn’t try and pass that skill on to you?”

Alaina snorted and nodded, “Oh, she tried. I was a bit of a space cadet. Didn’t have the patience to stay still and really learn that skill,” Alaina told him, shrugging her shoulders. “Although I think that was when she got so tired of me running around everywhere that she enrolled me in dance classes, so I think that worked out okay. We never really came back around to it. The older I got, the more involved I got in dancing, and it was just kind of a skill that faded away.”

She was used to the Mandalorian giving her the silent treatment, but as his helmet stayed glued to her face, Alaina felt oddly self-conscious under the intense scrutiny.

Mando’s stride slowed to a stop in the middle of the woods, his helmet still locked on her, “Would you like to learn?”

The question took her by surprise, and Alaina felt her mouth fall open. Was he offering to help teach her how to wield the dagger properly?

“If you’re going to carry it, you should at least know how to use it,” he said in practical response to her shocked silence.

Alaina looked down at the dagger in question. It was an incredibly kind offer, and the thought of proving to her mom she wasn’t letting her memory fade brought a smile to her.

“Yes,” the answer left her lips quickly. She looked back up at the Mandalorian’s helmet and gave him a nod. “That would be nice.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d talked about her mother. It felt nice being able to share a little bit of the dagger’s true owner’s story. Alaina was not expecting the offer to train her to use it properly… The man was most definitely a puzzle.

“We can start with your throwing skills,” Mando told her without any preamble. He grabbed her by her forearm and guided her slightly off the path until they stopped several steps away from a large tree.

Alaina frowned and tried to look at the man towering over her, but he grabbed her head to force her to look forward.

“Now?” she asked him nervously when he moved behind her and began to position her body.

“Why not?”

“Well, for starters, I’m right-handed, and that arm is currently out of commission,” she reminded him, nodding to her arm, which was still in a sling tucked under her cloak.

“A skilled knife thrower is ambidextrous,” Mando told her, setting Grogu on the ground. The baby instantly spotted a lizard and started chasing it, leaving her alone in the clearing with the Mandalorian. “Come on,” Mando encouraged her. “Just a couple of throws.”

He sounded like her mother. Kriff, what had she gotten herself into?

“Fine,” she acquiesced with a sigh, hoping she covered her nerves by sounding indifferent.

Mando went back to positioning her like a doll. His hands came to her waist and twisted her while he used his boot to kick her left leg in front of her right. She tried to keep her nerves settled. Between his hands touching her and the studying tilt of his helmet… Alaina was just thankful that she wasn’t visibly shaking.

Seemingly satisfied with her position, he stepped away from her and took the dagger from her hands. “It’s not all about strength,” he started, flipping the dagger until he caught it by the blade. “Subtle things like your wrist or elbow movements are enough to derail everything,” he continued his lecture.

Mando moved just enough ahead of her that she could observe his technique. Alaina watched as he moved his feet into the same position as hers, and he placed the blade between the fingers of his left hand.

“This dagger, in particular, will be a little more difficult just because the hilt is a little heavier, but that just means you’ll have to put a little more force behind it. We might consider finding you some smaller ones while you’re starting out.”

Alaina raised her eyebrows up, a little surprised at all the thought he was already putting behind his haphazard decision to teach her how to throw knives in the middle of the woods.

He didn’t seem to pay her any mind as he went silent to study the tree in the distance. Alaina watched how his shoulders relaxed. Next, his wrist flexed, followed by his elbow extending…

Alaina watched her mother’s dagger spin through the air until the tip of the blade embedded itself into the trunk of the tree Mando had been aiming for. The man looked as if he’d barely even tried. Lazy even.

He turned back to look at her, and she gave him a well-deserved impressed nod.

A small, shocked squeal startled both of them, and they simultaneously looked down to find Grogu at the bottom of the tree, staring at the dagger Mando had just thrown. When he turned back around, Alaina grimaced. The kid had managed to catch the poor lizard he’d been chasing earlier, and the creature's hind feet and tail were hanging out of his mouth.

“Hey! Spit that out!” Mando scolded Grogu, marching for him, but it was too late, and the kid sucked down the rest of the lizard.

“Gross,” Alaina frowned, scrunching her face in disgust.

The strange green baby was unphased by the adults' obvious displeasure and tried to give Mando an innocent coo when the armored man reached him.

Mando sighed and bent over to pick the kid up and grabbed the dagger by its serpent hilt to yank it out of the tree.

“Don’t eat lizards, Grogu,” Alaina reprimanded the baby, shaking her head at him when he got closer. “What if that was poisonous?”

“The kid’s stomach is an iron-clad bottomless pit,” Mando grumbled, passing her the dagger to take. “We can get a few throws in, and then we’ll find lunch. It’s only another five minutes to the town.

Alaina took the dagger from him, trying to hold the blade as he had done earlier. Mando repositioned Grogu to his shoulder so he could correct her hold.

She smiled brightly when Grogu squealed, obviously excited about his new elevated position perched on the Mandalorian’s shoulder.

“You’re good with him, ya know?” she said, moving her eyes to the silver helmet Grogu was banging a hand against. “He really likes you.”

Mando focused on her and worked on positioning her arm and upper body where he thought they should be.

“He just likes being up high so he can find his next unsuspecting meal,” he commented, but Alaina could tell that the feeling was mutual under the facade of indifference. “Ready?”

Alaina sucked in a deep breath and blew it out quickly. She aimed her hand up at the same tree Mando had thrown at.

“When you’re ready to throw, move your weight from your back to your front foot. As you extend your arm, try to unfold it in a straight line; don’t let it move around a lot,” he instructed.

Alaina nodded, keeping her sight on the tree. A picture of her mother standing calm and composed, eyeing her target, floated to the front of her mind. Alaina attempted to shift her body to mimic her stance while not moving too much from the Mandalorian’s original positioning.

She took in another deep breath while she lined up her target. As she exhaled, she followed Mando’s directions, extending her arm until she finally released the blade. Alaina cringed and held her breath while she watched the dagger weakly spin through the hair.

The blade barely made it to the tree, and when it did make contact, it was hilt first. The fanned rawl bounced feebly off the side of the tree before falling to the ground.

Grogu made a sputtering noise, and Alaina pouted.

Mando patted her back. “It’s okay. It takes practice,” he tried to console her. He grabbed the kid off his shoulder and carried him across the small clearing to grab the dagger off the forest floor.

Still, Alaina was bummed that she didn’t have a more successful first toss. Her mother was probably rolling in her grave at her daughter's lack of skill.

“Don’t kick yourself too hard,” Mando continued on his way back to her. Apparently, she did not hide her dejected look very well.

“Like I said, this isn’t the easiest dagger for a beginner. Not to mention, you threw with your non-dominant hand,” he shrugged and held the dagger out for her to take again. “Actually, you should feel pretty good about that being a first throw. Heavy dagger, nondominant hand, and you at least managed to make it to the tree.”

Alaina blushed and ducked her head at the compliment.

“Come on, give it another go,” he encouraged her, wiggling the dagger by the blade, tempting her to take it.

Alaina nodded and went to reach for the blade again.

“I’m kinda surprised you didn’t use your magic, witchy powers to just move the dagger where you wanted it to go,” he commented offhandedly as she wrapped her hand around the serpentine hilt.

The comment felt like he might as well have stabbed her with her mother’s dagger.

She blanched and took a step away, leaving a confused Mandalorian holding a dagger in one hand and Grogu in the other.

“Alaina? What’s wrong?”

Alaina shook her head and turned away from him, not wanting him to see her fall apart.

Not again.

The morning had gone so well… but he didn’t know. He couldn’t know.

“Just give me a second,” she muttered as she tried to get her emotions under control.

She was so tired of being angry.

She was tired of crying.

She was tired of being weak.

Alaina thought she had put it behind her years ago, but hearing the offhand lackadaisical comment brought everything back to the surface. It probably didn’t help that she was already a little on the emotional side after talking about her mother. She shouldn’t have indulged in conversation with the Mandalorian or let him try and teach her to throw knives… He was the reason she couldn’t… No, that was fair. He wasn’t the reason. But his actions were directly responsible for what happened to her. He deserved to know. She just needed a minute to calm down, and then she would rationally explain everything to the Mandalorian.

With her eyes closed, her clunky boots tripped over one another, causing her to fall, but she never hit the ground. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her from hitting the dirt.

“Hey,” came Mando's calm voice, and Alaina screwed her eyes shut, hating the compassion that laced his words. “Talk to me. What happened? What’s wrong?” Mando questioned, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder once he had her standing upright again.

“Don’t touch me!” Alaina seethed, moving away from his hand.

“Okay, okay… I’m sorry. Did I do something—”

“You did everything!” she screamed, spinning around to snarl at him.

“Alaina—” the Mandalorian tried to start, but she didn’t want to hear his words.

“I lost them,” Alaina rasped. Her throat was dry and choked as her anger increased.

“Lost what?” he asked, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

Her face hardened, and her green eyes clouded with tears. “My witchy powers that let me move things,” she seethed and hissed at him.

His entire body went rigid at her words. “You—you lost them?” he asked slowly, still trying to figure out what she was saying, or maybe even not believing it.

“You sold me to the Empire, and they did exactly what I thought they would do me. They treated me like a lab rat. They wanted to know what made me tick. Pershing went poking around in my brain, trying to make me do things I told them I couldn’t do—” Her own pained sob cut her off, and Alaina slammed her eyes closed. “Pershing wanted to know if I could unlock new abilities, and in the process, they inadvertently took away the one thing that made me special… The one thing that connected me to my mom! And now I’m just broken, and it's all your fault!”

Alaina stood there, teeth clenched and chest heaving, staring down the Mandalorian, silently daring him to say anything to send her off the rails again. When it was clear the Mandalorian was too shocked to say anything, Alaina grabbed her hood and yanked it back over her head to hide her face from him.

“Can we just go?” she asked bitterly. “The town is this way, right?” she asked, pointing at the path they had been walking.

Alaina didn’t wait for his answer and started walking for the small trail, taking large, angry stomps in the dirt.

It didn’t take long for the Mandalorian to catch up with her. With her hood on, she could only see Mando’s boots walking in step next to her. She was thankful for the large hood blocking the questioning helmet or the large eyes she knew were staring at her.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she spat angrily.

“Okay,” he agreed quietly.

“Actually, I don’t want to talk at all.”

Blessed silence answered her, and Alaina closed her eyes to try and gather herself. When she opened them, she stared at the ground and frowned.

Around them, the sun was shining, birds were chirping, and she could hear the gentle breeze rustle the tops of the trees.

And there was Mando, still walking side by side with her as they followed the dirt path. It didn’t matter what speed Alaina went. If she slowed, he slowed; if she sped up, he took larger steps.

He was just there.

A few tears ran down her face, and she watched them fall to the forest floor one by one, leaving a trail of wet spots with their footprints.

Mando eyed the brawl from a distance, noting the people milling around the cantina, placing bets on the two opponents going after one another in the back corner.

He placed a hand on Alaina’s back and guided her to a table on the outskirts of the commotion. There was a hissing noise, and he had to turn back to grab the kid before he got eaten by a Tooka cat that looked like it had seen better days. The kid looked around the small cantina wide-eyed, taking everything in. When his eyes landed on Alaina, sitting at the table with her hood on, refusing to look up, the kid visibly deflated.

“It’s gonna be okay, kid,” he whispered, patting the kid’s back. Grogu looked at him with a look on his face that told Mando the kid didn’t quite believe him. Honestly, Mando wasn’t sure he entirely believed his own words, but he had to hope the woman would, in fact, be okay. He leaned his helmet to the kid’s head to whisper in his ear, “Go easy on her. She has every right to be angry with me.”

When they reached the table, he placed Grogu on Alaina’s lap and moved to take the chair next to her. The kid looked up into her hood and smiled at his friend. Alaina responded by raising her hands to rub the kid’s ears, making the kid sag contentedly against her.

“Welcome, travelers,” one of the waitresses greeted them, stopping at their table. “Can I interest you three in anything?”

Mando nodded, “Bone broth for them.” He pointed to Alaina and Grogu sitting beside him and slid a couple of credits across the table.

“Oh, well, you’re in luck. I just took down a grinjer, so there’s plenty,” the waitress smiled. “Can I interest you in a porringer of broth as well?”

Mando shook his head, “Just the two,” he confirmed.

The woman nodded and pocketed his credits as she left to prepare their order.

“Why didn’t you get anything?” Alaina’s question surprised him, and he turned to see her remove her hood. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and he hated that he had made her cry. Again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat,” she frowned.

It was on the tip of his tongue to begin to explain his creed, but his mind pushed him to apologize to the woman while she was speaking to him.

“Alaina—” he began but stopped to look at the top of the table. How did one even begin to make amends for ruining someone's life? “Alaina, I’m—”

“Sorry. You’re sorry, I know,” she interrupted, dropping her head to look at the kid nestled comfortably in her lap. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered.

Mando nodded, nervously tapping his knuckles on top of the table. With nothing better to do, his eyes scanned the room, looking for any sign of possible trouble. His helmet landed on a woman sitting by herself in the corner. Black hair, drop trooper tattoo banded around her bicep, and dressed for combat. Everything about the mystery woman screamed mercenary, and Mando sincerely hoped he was wrong.

“Why don’t you think Mando wants to eat with us, little one?” Alaina asked the kid in her lap.

Mando returned his attention to his two companions while still trying to observe the potential threat inconspicuously.

Alaina watched over the kid, staring up at her with overly large eyes. She rubbed his ear again, and a little smirk appeared on her face. “Maybe he’s actually a droid,” she whispered conspiratorially to the Child.

He tilted his helmet unamused at her. He was glad she was at least speaking again, but he wasn’t going to let the droid comment slide.

Mando leaned a little closer to look directly at her. “I think you and I both know that’s not true,” he whispered. When Alaina looked up at him, he moved to lean back in his seat casually. “You would know, considering you’ve seen more of me than anyone else has since I was a child.”

He recalled that night five years ago when she removed his gloves. She only saw his hands, but he definitely saw and touched more of Alaina that evening. A lot more.

He saw the moment Alaina realized what he was talking about and smirked in victory when her cheeks flushed scarlet. She ducked her head again in embarrassment.

“Careful,” she whispered, her green eyes sliding up to peer at him. “That almost sounded like a joke.”

Mando smiled at her, repeating his words from earlier on the Crest back to him.

Alaina looked up from the kid and gave him a small, sad smile. It was an olive branch—maybe a very small branch, but one nonetheless. Before he could say anything, the waitress returned to the table, placing two cups of bone broth on the table.

When she stood up, Mando made eye contact with the woman at the other end of the cantina. She was drinking out of her own mug, but he could see she was also spying on him through her hair.

When the waitress turned to step away, Mando raised his hand to stop her. “That one over there,” he asked her, inconspicuously nodding his head in the direction of his target. “When did she arrive?”

The waitress frowned, and he tossed a couple of more credits onto the table. He could see Alaina frown at his question, and when she started to turn to look behind her, Mando reached under the table to squeeze her thigh to stop her. Alaina jumped, obviously startled by the contact, but at least got the hint and stayed looking forward.

“Oh, a few days or so,” the waitress answered, unfortunately confirming his suspicions.

“What’s her business here?”

The waitress snorted. “Business?” she questioned skeptically. “Well, there’s not much business to be had on Sorgan,” she stopped to lean over the table to whisper, “but she doesn’t strike me as a log runner.”

Osik. He tossed the waitress another credit for her information.

“Well, thank you, sir! You know what? I’ll bring you guys a flagon of spotchka,” she told them with a smile before turning to head back to the bar.

“Spotchka?” Alaina asked with a frown.

Mando looked back at the mystery woman—or, more accurately, at where the woman was—and clenched his hands when he realized she seemed to have disappeared.

“What’s wrong?” Alaina asked him nervously and covered his hand with her own.

It was then that he realized he hadn’t let go of Alaina’s thigh once he grabbed it to prevent her from turning around. He quickly let go of her with a mumbled apology.

“Stay here,” he instructed quietly, standing up from the table.

“Hey, no, where are you going?” Alaina asked, grabbing his hand to stop him. “Is this about that woman you were asking the waitress about? You don’t think she’s here for us, do you?”

Mando squeezed her hand, “I’m just going to check things out. I’m sure everything is going to be fine. Stay here with the kid.”

Alaina dropped his hand and gave him an annoyed look.

“I mean it, Alaina. Stay. Here.” He pointed at her cup of bone broth that Grogu was already eyeing. “Drink before the kid downs yours, too,” he ordered before walking around the table for the exit.

He caught their waitress’ attention and tossed her another couple of credits on his way out, “Keep an eye on them.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered, nodding her head.

His blaster was in his hand the second he walked out the door.

Mando’s head swiveled in every direction, trying to locate the woman as he began his search around the cantina. When he turned the corner, he pressed his vambrace to switch his HUD to tracking mode, and red footprints were immediately illuminated as he went down the alley.

He slowly followed the tracks until they doubled back. They doubled back, but there was no other set of tracks leaving the alley… which meant—

The mystery drop trooper from the cantina came swinging down from her hiding spot to ambush him. Mando stumbled but recovered quickly, rushing the woman.

She screamed and landed a kick on his solar plexus, sending him backward into a building.

Maker, she was strong.

Riding her victory, the woman came at him with a series of punches, taking him off guard until he stumbled to the ground. Mando was dazed, and his head rung from the force of the woman’s punches. She struck his beskar helmet with bare hands as if it were nothing.

He saw her feet charging at him again, and Mando scrambled on the ground before activating his flame thrower. She growled and dodged the flames until she came to stomp on his forearm, preventing him from burning her.

He growled as he struggled to free his arm from under her boot. Enough was enough of this. Alaina and the kid were counting on him. He couldn’t let them down, and he couldn’t let her down—not again.

The soldier came down to choke him, but he struck his hand out, grasping her neck tightly as he swung out with his leg, knocking the brute of a woman onto her back. Oh, but she was good. She was ready for him and kicked up with her legs, flipping Mando over her and onto his back. He lashed out, grabbing the woman’s forearm, refusing to let her go.

The woman took them rolling down the dirty alley a couple of times until they came to a draw with him on his back and her on her stomach, with their blasters pointed at one another.

They stared each other down; their heavy breaths could be heard echoing down the alley.

Mando waited for her to bring the axe down. Waited for her to tell him she was here for the girl and the kid, but her words never came.

Slurp.

Mando blinked at the noise, and the woman shared a frown with him. Their heads simultaneously turned to look down the alley to find his two companions watching them from a few meters away.

He was going to have to have a talk with both of them about following directions.

Alaina held her mug in one hand, and the Kid leaned against her legs while he held his mug with both hands. They watched him with curious faces, and then, as if they’d planned it, they both took another sip from their mugs.

The woman turned to give him a confused look. Mando instantly relaxed. She wasn't after them. That was not the look of a bounty hunter after their quarry.

“I think I like spotchka,” Alaina commented happily, looking into her mug.

At the amused raise of the drop troopers eyebrow, Mando let out an annoyed sigh and let his arms fall to the ground.

“Do you want some soup?”

“Saw most of my action mopping up after Endor. Mostly ex-imperial warlords. They wanted it quiet and fast. They’d send us in on drop ships. No support, just us,” their new guest, former drop trooper Cara Dune, paused her story to give them a little smile.

“Then, when the Imps were gone, that’s when the politics started,” Dune shook her head as she took a sip from her mug. “We were turned into peacekeepers protecting delegates, suppressing riots,” she shrugged. “That wasn’t what I signed up for.”

Mando nodded, understanding the soldier’s reasoning.

“Enough about me, though. What I want to know is what a Mandalorian is doing traveling with…” Dune tapered to look at Alaina, who was slouched over the table, resting her chin on her hand as she stared at the newcomer. “Not to sound too forward, but you’re just cute as a button.”

Alaina blushed and looked away from the woman.

Mando cocked his head at the forwardness of the drop trooper, unimpressed by her flirtations towards his… towards Alaina.

He looked to Alaina sitting next to him and sighed at the almost empty mug of spotchka. He grabbed the mug from her and placed it on the empty table behind him. He then grabbed the kid’s third cup of bone broth and put it in front of Alaina.

Both Alaina and the kid sputtered their objections, but he ignored them.

“How’d you end up here?” he asked Dune, trying to divert her attention from Alaina.

Dune rolled her head to look back at him with a knowing smirk, which made him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“Let’s just call it an early retirement,” she replied, leaning back in her seat to stare him down. Dune crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged her shoulders. “Look, I knew you were guild. I thought you had a fob on me. That’s why I came at you so hard.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he nodded.

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see Alaina frowning at the cup of bone broth in front of her, and he pushed it closer to her.

The kid grunted something nonsensical and rolled out of his lap. Mando sighed and bent down to grab the little womp rat before he got too far away and got himself eaten by a Tooka cat. When he sat back up, it was just in time to see Dune toss a little wink to Alaina. He turned to look at Alaina and watched her finally take a sip of her bone broth. Her green eyes blinked at him over the rim of the glass as if to say, see.

“Well, this has been a real treat,” Dune started, bringing his attention back to her. “But unless you wanna go another round, one of us is gonna have to move on, and I was here first.”

A dejected sigh escaped him.

So much for Sorgan.

The drop trooper, Cara, gave him a large, mocking grin before turning to share a smile with Alaina. “Ya know, Mando, if your hands are full, I’d be happy to take this one off your hands.”

“I like her,” Alaina smiled, resting her chin on her hand. “She lets me have spotchka if I want spotchka.”

Mando didn’t miss the slight slur at the end of Alaina's words and directed his helmet to glare at Cara. Dune smirked at him and showed Alaina's cup in her hand, which was still full of bone broth. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that the drop trooper traded their cups when he had to grab Grogu off the floor.

He shook his head, grabbed the kid in one arm, and grabbed Alaina by her elbow to pull her up with him.

“Wh—where are we going?” Alaina slurred and stumbled slightly as she got up from the table.

“Leaving. Looks like this planet’s taken.”

Dune raised the cup of bone broth, soluting them as they walked around her.

“Bye, it was nice to meet you,” Alaina called cheerfully behind her as he pulled her from the cantina. “Why are we in such a hurry?” she grumbled at him when he tugged a little harder on her arm.

“Because it’s at least a twenty-minute walk when you’re not drunk," Mando started. "And now you’re drunk, it’s dark, and I need to find a new hideout,” he grumbled, pulling Alaina toward the woods they had come from.

“I liked her,” Alaina smiled, swaying slightly as they walked. “She doesn’t regret me.”

Mando sighed but kept his grip on Alaina’s elbow as they entered the start of the path.

Their hike back started quiet, like the hike out here. Not wanting to be caught off guard in the dark, Mando tried to keep a quicker pace, but the third time Alaina tripped over her boots, he finally decided to slow down. It wouldn't do him any favors if Alaina tripped and broke something in her drunken stupor. Something else she could blame him for.

At least the moon shone bright enough to illuminate the path, so he didn’t need to turn his light on.

Alaina giggled from his side, “I haven’t had any alcohol for five years.”

“I can tell,” he deadpanned.

“You’re funny,” she slurred. “Did you know you’re funny? You wouldn’t think you’d be funny, but you are!”

Mando sighed and focused on escorting his wards through the moonlit woods. He was going to make her drink an entire canteen of water and then lock her in the bunk to sleep it off.

“I used to be really good at this,” she sighed nostalgically. “I was a great drunk.”

“I’m sure you were,” came his patronizing reply.

“Do you want to know what the secret is?” she asked, leaning into his arm. “It’s to not stop dancing. Once you stop dancing, that’s when it all catches up with you.” She yanked her arm from his hand and attempted what he thought was a demonstration of a spin or something, but her boots got in the way.

Mando nodded and wrapped his arm around Alaina’s waist before she fell to the ground.

When he pulled her back to him, he left his arm on her waist to prevent her from showing off her dancing skills again and was surprised when Alaina sighed and actually nuzzled her head into his side. Oh, she was going to regret drinking in the morning. The thought of tormenting her about her hangover was just the light at the end of the tunnel he needed.

“I wouldn’t have gone with her, ya know,” she whispered, leaning heavily into his side.

Mando stayed silent. Maybe he should have let her stay with the drop trooper. There was too much history between them. Maybe once he sobered Alaina up, he should give her the option. He did tell her she had a choice after all. Cara Dune was obviously strong enough to protect her if it came to that. Not to mention, it may be easier to split her and Grogu up. That way, if something happened, and one was found by the Empire, maybe the other would have a chance at a normal life.

"You're wrong," Alaina mumbled, and Mando frowned.

Had the alcohol lowered her mental walls or whatever she used to keep herself from reading his thoughts?

Alaina stumbled, and he gripped her waist to keep her from falling.

“Oh, no,” she mumbled.

“Come on,” he sighed. He would have to ask her once she sobered up in the morning if she read him. "As soon as we make it back to the Crest, you can drink some water and sleep for as long as you want.”

Alaina shoved him away from her and stumbled over her boots as she tried to walk further into the woods.

Mando shared a look with Grogu before he shook his head and took off after their drunken companion. If she was going to puke, at least she had the forethought not to do it all over his armor.

Alaina hissed and grabbed her head. “No, no, no,” she murmured.

Was she fighting her being sick, or was something wrong? “Alaina?”

Fear gripped him as he watched her fall to her knees in the dirt. Alaina held her head tightly between her hands and started rocking back and forth on the ground.

He ran for her, “Alaina!”

He kneeled beside her and put a tentative hand on her shoulder, “Alaina?”

Alaina stopped rocking and let himself relax until she stiffly straightened her back. His went back on high alert when she sharply twisted her upper body in an unnatural manner. Even in the silver moonlight, he could see that her eyes were unfocused and vacant as she looked at him. And when Mando said looked at him, he meant looked at him. He didn’t know how she managed to make eye contact with him in her condition, with his helmet covering his face, but it was almost eerie how she could easily find his eyes.

Something was wrong. Something inside of him told him that Alaina wasn’t there anymore.

“He’s coming,” she whispered, staring at him vacant and unblinking.

What in the karking hell was going on?

“Who’s coming?” he whispered back.

“He’s coming for the sunlight,” she whispered. Mando watched as a trickle of blood trailed out of her nose. “He’s coming to take the sunlight away and rip it apart limb by limb.”

He looked to Grogu, but the kid looked just as scared of Alaina as he felt.

“Alaina?” he whispered, too afraid to touch her.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and her body sagged from her stiff pose. Mando reached out to catch her unconscious body just before she hit the ground face-first.

Mando shifted his body and placed the kid on the ground while he sat down. He pulled Alaina to cradle her head in his lap, doing his best to examine her and try to figure out what was going on.

He flicked the light on his helmet, and his heart started pounding quickly when he saw that the previous small trickle of blood was now flowing freely from both nostrils.

The kid had moved to the other side of her and cried at the sight of his unconscious friend. Grogu’s large, pleading black eyes looked up at his helmet, and Mando could tell he was asking him to help Alaina.

Mando ripped one of his gloves off and pressed two fingers to her neck, nodding in relief when he felt her pulse under them. It was fast and thready, but it was there. The other thing he noticed without his gloves was how warm she was. He pressed his palm over her forehead and frowned. She wasn’t warm. She was burning up.

He pushed some of her hair, which was already sweat-drenched off her forehead.

He didn’t know what to do. She was alive… but beyond that… he had no idea how to help her.

Mando shared another concerned look with Grogu before looking down at the unconscious blonde woman in his arms. He grabbed his cloak and tried to wipe the blood off her face. Alaina was already naturally pale, but in the night, under the bright light from his helmet, her skin almost looked ashen against the bright red stream of blood that dripped from her nose.

He adjusted her slightly, pulling her tighter against his body so that her head rested over the center of his chest plate.

A small whimper escaped Alaina when her head made contact with his armor, but she still didn’t stir.

“Alaina?” Mando whispered. He brought his hand up to press her head into his armor, hoping that the cool metal felt good against her burning skin.

“Alaina?”

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Next chapter in series - Chapter 6: The Hallucination

#the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian season 1 #heaven in hiding #fanfic #din djarin #din dijarin fanfiction #original female character #original force sensitive character #minors dni #no beta we die like men #it's a novel #enemies to friends to lovers #star wars #emotional rollercoaster

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