#reading back the amount of typos in this is crazy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

berriweb · 1 year ago

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ GRAVEYARD SHIFT SHENANIGANS ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. johnathan ohnn (the spot) x gn! reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. y/n is strapped, johnny gives second hand embarrassment

: ̗̀➛ note. if you were the one getting robbed instead, i didn’t proof read this so if you saw a typo no you didn’t

only the restless and the crazies are awake at 3 am, and the only thing that those have in common are that they both have nothing better to do with their time. what does that make you?

The streets were quiet.

If you were lucky, every so often you’d hear the sounds of a car speeding down the road (likely well above the speed limit) or groups of people shouting and ranting while searching for a cab or an Uber after a long night at the bar across the street. It was rare, however, and you were more often than not left alone with your own thoughts to drown out the sounds of the fluorescent lights above you buzzing unnecessarily loud and the quiet pop songs playing on repeat from the speakers mounted in the ceilings.

Anyone else would run from the idea of being left in such a dull and lacking environment, but for you the nights spent sitting idly behind the counter waiting for the rare human interaction was necessary to keep your lights on and your ass out of the streets.

When you’d first heard the corner store was looking for a new employee to work the graveyard shift after the last worker quit due to a recent attack from a rouge villain that left him too paranoid to run the store alone, you were heavily against the idea despite your friend’s insistence that it was good money and she knew you needed it after hearing your previous complaints about your current job not being enough to cover both your bills and your meals. Knowing how prevalent crime could be, especially considering the part of town you lived in, who in their right mind would accept that job offer?

Luckily for you, you didn’t seem to be in your right mind. After a few convincing words and a quick interview with the grouchy owner of the store, you were welcomed with somewhat open arms and after two weeks of half assed training, you were successfully spending nearly all of your nights running the corner store after the sun went down.

Now it’s been two years, and as much as you love the security you feel knowing that you’re good at what you do, it can tend to get a bit boring on quiet nights.

You’d take the silence over the nights where you’d get visits from shady men coming in to withdraw a questionable amount of money and drug addicts who’d harass you for a few dollars to get a fix or were just completely off their rocker.

To make up for the lack of entertainment, you popped in an earbud and put on a podcast to drown out your thoughts, mindlessly flipping through the same magazines you’d been looking through for the last 4 hours of your shift. At some point celebrity drama had become more boring than the silence so you resulted to working on the puzzles and mind games on the back, so consumed in a sudoku game that you almost didn’t notice the sound of the scratching of metal and the small rusted bell jingling as the door to your store creaked open. As soon as it registered, you set the book down, sitting up, alert and ready as you eyed the new customer who had the pleasure of gaining your attention for the next few minutes they’d been in.

If there was one thing your shitty training had taught you it was to keep an eye out and be observant, more often than not the creeps came out at night and the last thing you wanted was to end up on the news with a bad id picture because you didn’t notice a man entering the store with a gun cocked and ready.

As a result, you’d gotten pretty good at profiling some of your customers and taking note of things that most people normally would pay no mind too. This man was no different.

Your alarms went off the moment he walked in, but you weren’t exactly sure which red flag set it off. Maybe it was the way he was dressed, in a big blue brown coat covering most of his upper half with the collar popped to hide his neck, topping it off with a brown bucket had covering most of his hat and what you thought were sunglasses. Maybe it was how you couldn’t tell what the glasses were due to his head being tilted down and his gaze locked on the floor and his own two feet. Or it could’ve been how you couldn’t get a good look at his bottom half aside from what you believed were black spotted white pants due to how quickly he scurried to the counter, his entire body tilting under your gaze as he seemed to be really shifty and refused to meet your eyes.

The only physical feature you could really make out about the person was that they were really, really pale and just from your angle you could tell he was a decently tall man.

“How can I help you?” Were the first words you chose to utter to him, trying to get an idea of what he wanted and why he seemed to be so nervous and fidgety, outlined by the way his hands messed with the hem of his coat.

“I- um,” he cleared his through, and you could sense the nervousness in his voice. His tone was light but held weight like he was hiding something or was guilty of something worse, “where is your restroom?”

What were the odds that he actually had to go? You’d had your fair share of people with the same mannerisms asking for the same thing and majority of the time they were using in the restroom, leaving you to pick up after the mess of tissue and needles, or worse, they’d leave behind, but something in your gut told you that wasn’t the case, and you couldn’t refuse him service based on a hunch.

Reaching behind you without taking your eyes off the man, you opened a drawer and pulled out a rusted keychain, clearing your throat and holding it out for him. “In the back, first door on your left, try not to make a mess,” you instructed and nodded your head towards the open corner in the back of the store.

With a small thank you, the unknown man quickly snatched the key from your grasp and made his way to the back with haste, though not without you notice the strange texture of his skin for the brief moment your fingers touched, and not without him eyeing the ATM machine he passed on his way back.

What was his deal?

A few minutes had gone by since he went to the back. You’d paused your podcast and sat silently, your gaze constantly shifting from the front doors to the back as you waited for him to reappear. Your negative attitude might have been uncalled for, he may have just been a regular guy who stopped at the first place that had an available bathroom, but you knew better than to be that hopefully. Moments later after you’d returned to your magazine, you heard a door open and footsteps, followed up by buttons clicking and pointed beeping noises. When you looked back, he was out and standing in front of the ATM, hesitantly pushing buttons.

You couldn’t tell if he was trying to make himself seem busy on the machine or was really anxious about pulling money. It could’ve been the case that he was taking out a lot for something that wasn’t exactly legal. Drugs, a sex worker maybe? It was none of your business, so long as he kept it out of your store.

You turned back to your magazine to avoid him noticing your constant staring, but about a minute later you perked up at the sound of a loud screech, silent curses and the sound of loud banging. Your senses heightened as you turned around again in your chair, and it took a moment to process the sight in front of you. The man had managed to climb on top of the machine, or at least that’s how you assumed he got up there, jumping up and down on the machine in a hurry. It was hard to piece together until you realized that the machine was now halfway through the ground, courtesy of a large black gaping hole that you were certain wasn’t there before. What the hell?

Your hand reached for the drawer under your register faster than you could process, being far too use to this drill. Your hands searched the drawer without your eyes leaving him before pushing it closed after discreetly pulling out your weapon. It wasn’t often that you needed the gun, but it’s better safe than sorry.

Quietly, you stood up from your chair and left from behind the counter, sneaking up on the man by tiptoeing through the aisles. Assuming he was a criminal, he wasn’t very good at keeping an eye out as he hadn’t noticed you creeping up on him from behind until you were mere feet away and turned off the safety, raising your arms with it pointed at his head. Unnecessary? Maybe, but you weren’t dumb enough I charge unarmed, not if he could be a serious threat.

“Freeze!” Yikes, maybe that was too officer-ey? Your tone was assertive, but your assumption that he could be a hero deflated and was thrown out the window as he reacted far too slow, turning around nearly jumping out of his (pants?), letting out a scream that could put a little girl at Disneyland to shame. His arms flailed and he lost his footing on the ATM, falling over only for another portal to open on the ground and swallowing him whole. He reappeared in a portal on the ceiling behind you and you jumped, turning around just in time to see him fall through, his torso hitting the top of a shelf and sending all of the condiments falling before he hit the ground. You couldn’t help but wince, that had to hurt, but kept your grip on the gun firm as he struggled to his feet.

Leaning against a display to pull himself off, he mistakenly put too much faith in the rickety stand and it toppled over, bags of snacks matching the other items scattered on the ground. He let out a groan of pain and when he stood, somewhat fully as he seemed to have bad posture, you watched the now broken sunglasses fall off of his face, or rather lack thereof, his hat falling to the ground.

He had no face. Where it should’ve been, there was a large, black gaping hole with no way to see anything inside. In fact, it wasn’t just his face, as you soon came to realize that he wasn’t wearing pants, those dots were his skin. He had no human distinguishable features, what you had assumed to be pale skin was actually paper white, decorated with black hopes all across his legs, seemingly his entire body. His coat still remained, but you were willing to bet that his torso was covered in the same holes as the rest of his body. If not for the humanoid figure, voice, and his clumsy personality you wouldn’t have known he was human, assuming he was.

“Wait wait wait! Please- pLEASE don’t shoot! I’m not dangerous I swear I’m a good guy, well I’m not because I’m robbing you but I’m not really robbing you-” as he seemed to start to ramble on, the confusion started contorting your face and he seemed to notice, laughing nervously with his hands still raised as he took a step back. “See, I’m not really a criminal but because I look like this now no one will hire me and I have to resort to robbing stores to support myself, you know?” As he spoke he attempted to shake an empty can that his foot lodged itself in, leaning down to pull it off while keeping a hand up which reminded you that you still held him at gun point.

While you were still only beginning to process what the hell was going on, you hypothesized that the more stressed or worked up he seemed to be, the more out of control his holes became, as the seemed to shift and swirl on his body more and more as he continued to rant. “I’m kind of like my own Robin Hood, you know the whole steal from the rich give to the poor? Except I kind of am the poor, at least I am now. I used to have a good job at Alchemax before they turned me into this, but I can thank Spider-Man for that too-” Alongside that, they popped up far more often, proven by how he suddenly toppled into another, emerging from the wall next to you and hitting the floor head first, wincing as he stood up, this time without the can, it instead falling from a different hole that appeared next to his head, hitting him square in the face before disappearing into another hole.

Without realized it, your arms slightly lowered and you resulted to watching the poor man’s sad attempts at controlling his mutation/power, finding it both pitiful and amusing. “But that’s besides the point! You really shouldn’t shoot me I swear I’ll be out of your hair, which looks great- by the way, as soon as I can I really don’t mean any harm!”

Pulling his arm out of a half closed hole, he suddenly straightened up, managing to stand in one place without being thrown around like a rag doll. Silence remained as you seemingly stood still and stared at him for what seemed like an eternity but was only a few seconds before you pursed your lips, looking down as a hand came up to your mouth to muffle the sounds.

“What- what are you doing?” He questioned you, and while there was no expression on his face you had a feeling he was looking at you with a puzzled look, only for his question to be answered when you suddenly doubled over, the muffled snicker turning into chuckles, which lead to giggles up until you were howling with laughter, hardly able to catch your breath. You left him standing there thinking you must’ve lost your mind. “Why are you laughing?!” You could only respond with more cackling, leaning against a wall and inhaling deeply to make up for the lack of air you could consume.

“What’s so funny?! This isn’t a joke!” He sounded both surprised and slightly offended, which you felt slightly bad for but given his methods you couldn’t help it, and by the time you started to calm down as he stupidly stood there, the pieces seemed to finally click on everything he was telling you, from what you knew anyway.

“Are you sure?” Were the first words that left your mouth, and he seemed baffled by your reaction. “Yes I’m sure! What’s your deal? I’ll have you know I spent a lot of time planning this out!” You highly doubted that.

The holes were definitely hard to get your mind behind, but as your brain tried to process you suddenly reminded the can while a portal, unbeknownst to you, opened up behind you. Where did it go?

BANG!

A sharp pain raced through the back of your head and the man’s hands went up to where his mouth would’ve, or rather should’ve, been. “Ohmygosh I am SO sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to!”

“Yeah, I figured!”

Reaching up to feel the back of your head, a throbbing pain settled in, but luckily no blood so you deemed it safe. You didn’t have to see it to hear the apologetic tone in his voice, and after that entire fiasco you could only feel bad for the poor guy. He clearly hadn’t been built for a life of crime, but unfortunately decided that it was his path.

“Listen,” you got his attention by showing off you lowering the weapon, before nodding your head up towards the ceiling and giving a pointed look to two corners of the store. “The cameras in here are really old, they don’t have audio and the video quality is horrible. I can edit the footage to an extent before I leave, but if the time gap between the frames is too long it might get suspicious and I’m not losing my job over you.”

You slowly raised your weapon as you looked back at him, turning the safety back on. “I’m going to act like I’m holding you at gunpoint and threatening to call the cops, all you have to do is snatch the gun when I ‘accidentally’ drop it, kind of switch the roles around, you get me? I can get you some money from the safe before I call the cops but you have to be quick-”

“Wait, hold on, you’re helping me?” He asked incredulously, his shoulders falling as he pointed at his chest. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“I am, you honestly don’t seem like a bad guy and it’s not coming out of my paycheck, so long as next time you try to pull this you don’t do it here.”

If he had one, his jaw surely would’ve been on the floor. “I can’t even begin to thank you, you’re a saint! Is this a trick? I can’t repay you for this-” he started on again, but you cut him off be gesturing towards the weapon again to remind him of your words before dropping it.

Luckily for you, he was able to catch on pretty quickly and took the gun. His acting was mediocre at best, but you doubted anyone would look at the footage closely enough to notice how amateur he seemed as he pointed it at you, he hadn’t even turned the safety off. He demanded you take him to the safe before you reminded him that the cameras couldn’t hear him and there wasn’t a need for the menacing voice, to which he sheepishly apologized. After letting him stuff his pockets with as many of the bills as he could fit, you yelled to stop him before he could race out the door.

“The gun. I need it back.”

“Oh, yeah, right…” he chuckled and left it on the counter, taking a few awkward steps back. Your curiosity got the better of you and you leaned forward from behind the counter. “You did a whole lot of talking but I never got your name.”

Flustered, he seemed to point at himself as if he were confused on why you were asking him, but replied, “I am…the Spot.”

The same feeling bubbling up in your chest as you eyed his stance and the sudden voice change, you brought a hand up to your mouth, and his shoulders fell yet again.

“You’re seriously laughing? Again?!”

“No! No, I’m not,” you tried to defend, but the giggle you let out before clearing your throat and biting back a smile said otherwise. Luckily you were able to control it this time. “It’s just- what kind of awful parents have the honors of giving you that name?”

“It’s my villain name! Not my real one!” He hissed.

“Then what’s your real name?”

He looked at you puzzled, possibly wondering why you wanted to know so much, but at the same time it’d been a while since anyone had shown genuine interest in him so he obliged.

“Johnathan.”

“Johnathan,” you repeated slowly, as if you were resting out the name in your mouth, making his stomach warm up with an indescribably annoying feeling. “Alright, Johnny. Have a good night. You might want to get lost before the cops show up.”

He turned around as if to leave before pausing yet again, turning his head back. “Wait, I never got your name?”

“Then I guess you’re going to have to come back another time to find out.” Bold, and completely not your style, but something told you that you and Johnathan were going to get along nicely. “Preferably not to rob me though, and without making a big mess I have to inevitably clean.”

You gestured to the mess of food and other miscellaneous items that had fallen off of mostly toppled shelves, and Johnathan gave a sheepish apology. “I’ll be back.”

“I’m counting on it.”

He disappeared into the night, or rather a black portal that opened under his feet once he stepped outside, and you were once again left sitting behind the counter and alone with your thoughts, the sounds of distant sirens getting louder every second, only this time you had something to look forward too the next time you clocked in and the Spot had a new motivation for his newfound criminal activity.

#across the spiderverse #atsv fanfiction #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #spider man #the spot #jonathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader #spiderverse the spot #the spot across the spiderverse #the spot x reader #the spot atsv

318 notes · View notes

daisyswift3 · 4 months ago

Text

Jumping in the Deep End 🐇🕳️💛

So there’s sth else I noticed related to the Gracie rabbit hole I’ve fallen down that I haven’t mentioned yet bc I feel crazy saying it but I’ve already said a lot of insane stuff lately so fuck it. But before u read this post I do recommend reading this other analysis I wrote as well as this post first bc it’ll make everything make more sense. Ok continuing….

youtube

Not long after The Secret of Us was released on June 21, I watched this interview that was uploaded the day the album was released where Gracie texts her fans. One of the first things I noticed was how Gracie suspiciously looks straight at the camera as she makes a typo which I mentioned in the analysis I just linked, but another thing that caught my attention was that one of the fans is named Aimee (3:06 mark in the vid). I thought this was a little strange bc Aimee isn’t really the typical spelling of that name, it’s usually spelled like this instead, Amy. But even more strange was that the day after this interview was uploaded, June 22, Taylor just so happened to play thanK you aIMee as one of the surprise songs in London. What an interesting coincidence!

June 22 was a big deal bc it was Midsummer Day which celebrates daylight. This is likely why Gracie made yellow 💛 the main color of the album and chose to release it on June 21, Midsummer Eve—bc this album is abt a coming out journey (see these posts for more on that: x, x, x, x, x, x, x). And if you look at the text “Aimee” sends, it sounds like sth an artist would ask another artist rather than a typical fan question. Aimee specifically asks abt her creative process which is a very artist thing to do. So basically all that to say I wouldn’t be surprised if Aimee was actually Taylor and this text was also an easter egg for us to find just like the intentional glitches and typos.

If this text was in fact from Taylor, I believe the purpose of it may have been to lead us down the Gracie rabbit hole where we could find endless cross references between Gracie’s music and Taylor’s music. If you watch the music videos for those 3 songs Aimee mentions and listen to the lyrics, they could easily be interpreted as being abt Taylor’s secret relationship w this korner of the internet that is almost like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon bc there’s no tangible proof it ever existed but there is a lot of folklore surrounding it and the story has been passed down and become a myth. “Wonder if you regret the secret of us.” I believe these 3 songs could be from Taylor’s perspective. And to go even further w it (fair warning, this is where we really go off the deep end), I think it’s very possible that not just these songs are abt this secret relationship, but most of Gracie’s songs bc all of them reference each other and have lyrical and visual parallels to each other much like Taylor’s songs (see this post).

Now I want to make it very clear: Gracie is her own person w her own talents outside of Taylor. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea or think I’m trying to undermine Gracie’s artistry or give all the credit to Taylor. And I also don’t think this secret relationship was the only inspiration for these songs since it’s very clear Gracie uses her own personal experiences and feelings, and I believe she could be writing abt more than one muse or from more than one person’s perspective in each song, similar to how in hoax Taylor sings abt 3 different relationships simultaneously. I am simply trying to point out the insane amount of parallels between Gracie and Taylor’s music that I think are too abundant to simply chalk up to coincidence. And I’m not saying that my interpretations are for sure the right ones, I could definitely be wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time. This is just a fun clown theory that I think is worth considering.

So going back to those 3 songs in the text—Mess It Up, I know it won’t work, The Bottom—I wanted to do an analysis on them and the mvs bc I think the reason why “Aimee” might’ve been pointing us to those specific songs and mvs is bc they are an important part of this coming out story. Plus the specific symbolism and imagery used in the songs can be cross referenced w pretty much every other song in Gracie’s discography (and w many Taylor songs) making them all connected.

For instance, the main themes in Mess It Up are:

Not growing up -> minor, tehe, Wishful Thinking, Older, Better, Augusta, Alright, Difficult // Peter, The Archer, cardigan, betty, peace

Groundhog Day (This is related to the next theme) -> Under/Over, Risk mv, I Love You, I’m Sorry, us // The Prophecy

Making the same mistake over and over/Bad habits -> Long Sleeves, Rockland, The Bottom, Best, Will you cry?, Difficult, This is what the drugs are for, Fault line, Block me out, Blowing Smoke, I Love You, I’m Sorry, us, Let It Happen // Anti-Hero, coney island, Florida!!!, Fresh Out The Slammer, The Black Dog

Not being able to sleep at night -> Rockland, Hard to Sleep, Camden, Painkillers, Difficult, This is what the drugs are for, The blue, 405, Risk, Blowing Smoke, Let It Happen, Tough Love // Midnights the stories of 13 sleepless nights, hoax

The birthday cakes -> 21, Stay mv, Mean It mv, Risk mv // All Too Well short film, coney island

“Let it happen” -> The song Let It Happen on TSOU, Better

Lying -> For Real This Time, Best, Full machine, Where do we go now?, Block me out, Blowing Smoke, Let It Happen // Getaway Car, illicit affairs, the lavender haze/bearding/red herrings

Phone calls -> 21, Rockland, Full machine, I should hate you, This is what the drugs are for, The blue, Block me out, us, Let It Happen // cowboy like me, Anti-Hero mv, Fortnight mv

Going onto a porch in order to apologize to someone -> Risk mv (technically not to apologize but it’s still related to coming out and making things right) // betty, cardigan, this is me trying, long story short, Fresh Out the Slammer

The main themes in I know it won’t work are:

Closets -> Peter, seven, cowboy like me, I Know Places

Drawing the line in the sand and putting up boundaries or crossing boundaries -> Mess It Up, Long Sleeves, For Real This Time, Best, Felt Good About You, Let It Happen, Gave You I Gave You I

Cutting ties w someone -> Friend, Blowing Smoke, Free Now

Being someone’s ghost/haunting someone -> I miss you, I’m sorry, us, Block me out // Basically all of TTPD and much of folkmore and Midnights (Anti-Hero mv)

The main themes in The Bottom are:

“I told you I was down bad, you hate to see me like that” -> Down Bad

Opening up the door and letting someone into your house, closing the door, or going into someone’s house uninvited -> Mess It Up mv, Under/Over, tehe, I should hate you, us, Let It Happen, I Love You, I’m Sorry, Gave You I Gave You I // cardigan, hoax, Anti-Hero mv

Dragging someone down/Hitting rock bottom/Coming down after a high or being high (drug metaphor; becoming more famous=“getting higher”) -> Long Sleeves, Rockland, Wishful Thinking, Painkillers, Alright, This is what the drugs are for, Fault line, Right now, Block me out, Blowing Smoke, I Knew It, I Know You, Gave You I Gave You I, Free Now // Many songs on TTPD use the drug metaphor, gold rush, long story short, Anti-Hero mv (pushed from balcony), seven, this is me trying, illicit affairs

Being the problem -> 21, minor, Rockland, Wishful Thinking, Older, Painkillers, Best, Difficult, Block me out, Unsteady, I Love You, I’m Sorry mv // Anti-Hero

Mess It Up

youtube

So as I stated before this song is all abt making the same mistakes over and over and reliving the same day like it’s Groundhog Day. Gracie, the narrator, keeps trying to make things right and apologize to the person she’s hurt, but every time she tries she messes it up which is represented by her dropping the cake repeatedly. But finally at the end of the mv, she is able to get it right and properly apologize. She knocks on someone’s door and they open it which symbolizes this person opening their heart to Gracie and forgiving her. If you go to the 2:12 mark in the mv when the letters and numbers on the fridge fall, you’ll see that they spell out a secret message “Hi (13, 31) Peter Pan - T” (the “I” doubles as a 1, the “3” doubles as an E, and the “L” doubles as an R/r if flipped on its side). Taylor was 31 yrs old when the Mess It Up mv was released on May 6, 2021. Peter Pan is the boy who never grew up. This means that it’s likely the narrator’s inability to grow up that is causing issues in the relationship. This is why the song starts w “Opened two double doors, typical, pretty sure I could grow up.”

“Did I fall out of like when I called you” -> Did I cross a boundary and make things worse when I called you? Boundaries are one of the main themes in I know it won’t work. I believe that Gracie and Taylor could be using “phone calls/texts/letters” as a metaphor for the anon messages and riddles we’ve received over the years. As a result of trying to solve these messages and riddles, kaylors have gotten a ton of hate and many have had to leave the fandom bc the environment is so toxic. This song could be Taylor acknowledging these issues and apologizing for how we’ve been treated.

“'Cause every time I get too close, I just go mess it up” -> It’s possible Taylor has tried many times over the years to properly apologize to us by giving us more cryptic messages containing these apologies, but the problem is that these anon messages and riddles are the main reason why we get bullied so this only makes the issue worse in the end.

“Funny that (Funny that) didn't work (Didn't work), I could be anywhere, I'm on your block” -> I believe this could be related to I Love You, I’m Sorry. “The way life goes, Joyriding down our road, Lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me, (I'm wrong again, wrong again) I love you, I'm sorry.” This song also has the lyrics “I wanna speak in code” which makes me think of the anon messages and queer flagging.

“I keep thinking, maybe if you let me back in, we can make it better, breaking every habit” -> Taylor talks abt breaking bad habits in The Black Dog which I believe represents putting an end to the bearding/lavender haze/red herrings/smokescreen/blowing smoke/not growing up.

It’s very interesting that Gracie uses a birthday cake to apologize. Birthday cakes are a common symbol that shows up in Gracie’s music. They also appear in 21, another apology song, and the Risk mv which is likely abt the mass coming out (see this post). In the All Too Well mv, Sadie’s character receives a birthday cake at the same time that Taylor sings, “But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willin' you to come, And he said, ‘It's supposed to be fun turning 21.’” In both 21 and ATW 10 min version, the older person in the relationship misses their significant other’s 21st birthday which greatly hurts them. These songs could be 2 sides of the same coin from opposite perspectives like dorothea and TTDS. With how many connections there are between Gracie and Taylor’s music, I’m inclined to believe this isn’t a coincidence.

(From the Mean It mv. When the 21 candles are thrown in the box they almost look like a backward "t" and "s")

“If it doesn't go away by the time I turn 30, I made a mistake and I'll tell you I'm sorry, ‘Sorry.’” The narrator is saying once she turns 30 she’ll apologize to the 21 yr old if her feelings haven’t changed by then. This is immediately followed by a “sorry” meaning the narrator has actually already turned 30 yrs old which is another indicator that Gracie is in fact speaking from someone else’s perspective bc Gracie was only 20 at the time of this song’s release in 2020. Plus just a few tracks later in the same album, the narrator says "I miss you, I'm sorry" which she said she wouldn’t say until after she turned 30. Taylor was 30 yrs old when the album minor was released in July 2020 and when 21 was released as a single on Feb 20, 2020. If this song is from Taylor’s perspective at 30 yrs old, then the significant other/ex being 21 indicates it (along w all the other cross-referenceable songs) is likely not abt a literal romantic relationship; rather, the song is an allegory or metaphor. The 21 (acoustic) mv has "I miss you" on the piano and "I'm sorry" in the notebook which indicates that 21 is directly related to I miss you, I'm sorry. The emphasis on birthdays and age in 21 fits well w the Peter Pan metaphor that shows up in many of Gracie’s songs. Even though the narrator is getting physically older, she is not getting metaphorically older. To add even more credibility to this theory, the song minor has the line “Hit me 3-1-0” which could represent both Taylor turning 31 in 2020 and a backwards 13. 13s show up several times in Gracie’s mvs and songs. The Secret of Us is a 13-track album that was released on June 21. Additionally, the first 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 message was sent July 21 and the second to last message, which I’m now pretty certain is abt Gracie’s album TSOU, was sent May 21 (x).

Look at the numbers on the houses ⬇️ Going column-wise there’s 226(1), 226(3) which is a 13 and there’s also ✌️✌️ which Taylor has used a ton for TTPD (Taylor said in Nov 2021 she wanted to try to plan sth 3 yrs in advance); 2267 -> 6+7=13. Adding up 2+2+6+3 also gives u 13 while 2+2+6+1=11=K. And 6+6 from the 2261, 2263 (again going column-wise) is 12 which is 21 backwards. The 13 showing up in the Risk mv just confirms these choices in the Mess It Up mv were completely intentional.

Gracie and Taylor performed I miss you, I’m sorry together at eras which was Taylor’s suggestion since Gracie’s set was canceled that day (x)(x). I just think it’s very interesting that Taylor wore a yellow dress when they sang this song and then a yr later she just so happened to be featured on the title track of Gracie’s very yellow album 💛 which they (allegedly) didn’t start writing until Nov 13 a few months later (x). This indicates that this performance was likely planned ahead of time and not a last minute decision like they said. I think much of the timeline we’ve been given for Gracie and Taylor’s friendship might be a red herring to prevent ppl from figuring out what these songs are really abt. Gracie and Taylor (allegedly) wrote us together on Nov 13, 2023 spontaneously; but Taylor wearing yellow during IMYIS along w the pap walk w the Cassandra handbag, almost burning down the house 🕯️🧯, and and the fact that all this happened on Nov 13, the day Karlie and Taylor met, indicates that us was actually written much earlier and that the Nov 13 story was just a red herring.

I know it won’t work

youtube

This song is all abt boundaries. There are different types of boundaries that show up in the mv: A shoreline, a line in the sand, a fence. It’s clear the narrator doesn’t want to end this relationship and put up walls but she believes she has no other choice bc of her circumstances (not being able to grow up -> Peter, closets).

“I left you here, Heard you keep the extra closet empty, In case this year I come back and stay throughout my twenties” -> The narrator knows there’s no guarantee she’ll actually “grow up” and come out of the closet so her ex keeps the closet empty just in case she wants to move back in and stay in the closet.

“What if I won't? How am I supposed to put that gently? And down the road you will love me until you resent me” -> Since these lines directly follow the ones I just mentioned, you might be inclined to think that “What if I won’t?” is the narrator asking “What if I won’t move back in and rekindle our relationship?” BUT I believe the wording was intentionally ambiguous bc that way it could also mean “What if I won’t grow up and leave the closet? Will you eventually come to resent me if I can’t be the hero you want?”

“But it's a lot, All the shine of half a decade fadin', The whole facade seemed to fall apart, it's complicated” -> This perfectly parallels the 11/09/2019 ♠️ message. The narrator is saying her ex is asking a lot of her by wanting her to come out and destroy the facade. I believe decade might’ve been changed to half a decade so as to not make it obvious Gracie is singing from Taylor’s perspective. The “shine” symbolizes the love and support from fans that has come w being such a famous and successful artist. That’s not an easy thing to give up.

“Why won't you try movin' on for once? That might make it easy, I know we cut all the ties, but you're never really leavin'” -> Taylor knows that even if us kaylors walk away from her we will always eventually come back bc we can’t help but be invested and this puts a lot of pressure on Taylor that she doesn’t want.

“I'll open up, I'm thinkin' everythin' you wish I wasn't, The call was tough but you're better off, I'm bein' honest, So, won't you stop holdin' out for me when I don't want it? Just brush me off 'cause I'm your ghost right now, your house is haunted” -> This entire 3rd verse is extremely telling and fits perfectly w the 2019 failed coming out. The call to not come out was tough bc she was conflicted abt it but she thinks she ultimately made the right decision. Taylor is asking us to stop holding out for a coming out bc it’s not what she wants. Of course I don’t think this is how Taylor currently feels bc I think she’s getting ready to burn down the closet but I think this song shows how she felt at one point. I think the ghost imagery is supposed to connect this song w I miss you, I’m sorry and us as well as all the ghost imagery Taylor has used.

The Bottom

youtube

This song is abt hitting rock bottom and being worried that you will drag the ppl you love down w you. It’s kind of a more scathing version of Anti-Hero. I think this song could be directly related to the Mess It Up mv. Someone opens up the door to let Gracie in bc she wants to apologize by giving them a cake. But the narrator warns this person that they should keep their guard up bc she will always be doomed to repeat the same mistakes and drag ppl down w her. Since this song is kind of self explanatory, I’ll instead focus on the mv.

The first thing I noticed when watching this mv is the striking similarities to the Bejeweled mv. Both seem to be inspired by Disney movies/fairytales and even the bells during the title card parts sound similar. PLUS 🎃 anon told us to watch out for things that “ring a belle” -> there are bells in both mvs and one also shows up during the burning castle scene at the end and it is literally ringing; and Bejeweled should look and sound familiar if u have watched The Bottom mv; AND Belle is a Disney princess which is another indicator that 🎃 was referring to these mvs (Taylor wears a yellow dress just like Belle at the end of Bejeweled). Gracie said that The Bottom is supposed to be a satirical mv (see description of vid) and this parallels the Bejeweled mv being satire.

Another thing that’s interesting is that The Bottom mv is kind of the opposite of the Bejeweled mv. In The Bottom, Gracie is dragging a body down the stairs and burying it (descending) while in Bejeweled, Taylor is using an elevator to get higher and higher until she reaches the top floor (ascending). Ascending and descending are things that 🫚 emphasized in this message. Ascending and descending are also things a plane does when flying from one place to another -> “I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around” and all the plane imagery lately. I think 🫚 could have been trying to get us to realize that the beginning stages of this coming out plan (the “ascent,” PR stunts w MH and 🏈, red herrings, 2023-early 2024 🛫) aren’t what we should focus on, it’s the end stages of the journey (the “descent,” cracks in the facade, getting louder w queer flagging, mid 2024-Dec 2024(?) 🛬) that are important.

Yellow shows up a few times in this mv, and I think it’s significant that the room in which the murder happens is a bright one w yellow chairs. Yellow is commonly used to symbolize happiness; Taylor and Gracie use this color in a very similar way to represent daylight/sunshine/summer/being out of the closet/not hiding your real self 💛🌼☀️🏝️ So putting these things together, this scene is symbolically similar to the yellow closet in the Lover house where Taylor has had to put away her sunshine and happiness bc she wasn’t able to come out during Lover era. What was supposed to be a joyous celebration ended w death and destruction.

It’s also interesting that throughout the mv, Gracie is dancing and performing (showmanship/PR) while in a literal spotlight. This ties in perfectly w the very last scene where Gracie is smoking a cigarette which represents bearding/red herrings/lavender haze/smokescreen/smoke and mirrors magic/Blowing Smoke/bad habits. In The Black Dog, Taylor uses smoking as an example of a bad habit/self-destructive behavior she is trying to quit.

Lastly, I wanted to leave you w a few things that I think are very interesting and that could tie in w this theory:

41 notes · View notes

cal-daisies-and-briars · 3 months ago

Note

Hiiiii cal!!! I’m so glad you’re enjoying writing this way because I love getting to read these snippets - it’s like a bunch of mini cliffhangers that prompt my imagination to go wild and it’s so much fun!! I’ll be sending emojis for as long as you’re wanting them!

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️(they’re getting a house! And about to get married!!! And i might be misremembering but i don’t think you’ve done a detailed buddie wedding in any of your fics yet? I’m very excited to see how you do it!!)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(the shenanigans and tomfoolery of being bad at hiding a secret relationship… it amuses me so!)

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸(as i’ve said many times before, my love for this fic goes beyond words!! And you’re venturing into truly riveting territory here i’m so pumped!!)

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮(my heart breaks for babby - my typo for baby bobby and i’m keeping it - my dear sweet babby)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(i can already feel this one becoming my new obsession! Idk why i thought it was going to be something shorter when you first started posting about it but i was thrilled to see that anticipated chapter count on ao3!)

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑(islands in the stream has been stuck in my head all day and i blame you! I’m so looking forward to the madney sweetness!)

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼(oh my god cal the angst! It’s angsting!)

💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐(huge fan of mays crush being named april - it makes me giggle every time)

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮(cranberry my baby! And the covidness of it all is so vivid - i’m loving the buck-chris dynamic!)

I never count the amount of emojis i type as i go so i’m always a bit shocked at how many sentences i’ve requested of you when you post the reply 😬 thank you so much for putting up with my crazy requests it brings me such joy!

I hope you have a lovely weekend and week!!

SO AS I WAS FILLING THIS OUT MY FUCKING LAPTOP CRASHED. WHICH SUCKS BECAUSE IT HAS TAKEN ME HOURS AND HOURS ACROSS TWO DAYS. FUCK. Let's see if I can find the sentences I wrote again.

For TWATYTK and Zombies, those parts have already been posted, because as I said, this was taking so long. GAH!

I had a whole message typed out about how much I appreciate you. You are so kind! IT'S LOST TO TIME NOW.

I think this was what I had for ⚡️:

---

Their next call is to the scene of a fire.

This should not be especially eventful, considering that they are firefighters and all. And, for the drive there, it isn’t. The transit process? Just fine.

It’s the rest that sends Buck into a tailspin.

He spends the ride seated next to Eddie, thighs touching. They’re back being partnered together. Sadie earned her shield a couple months back, and has been working as Ravi’s partner since. Buck is pretty proud of her - and himself, for training her. He liked working with her a lot. But he’s happy to be back where he belongs, in terms of workplace duos.

Buck and Eddie - okay, mostly Buck - talk everyone’s ear off about the house for the time it takes them to get to the fire. They should possibly be a little less giddy headed towards an actual three alarm fire, but at that point, Buck thinks his mood simply can’t be shaken. How naive.

It is perhaps due to this focus on the house, which is nowhere near the direction they’re headed in to get to this fire, that Buck doesn’t realize what is in the direction of the fire. In his defense, neither does anyone else! Not even Eddie! Even Bobby, who knows better where they’re going, doesn’t put the pieces together.

Maybe it’s because they spend so much time driving around the city. Here and there. Fires and car accidents and medical emergencies everywhere. Everywhere looks familiar! They could all be city tour guides. It’s not like driving through a city where you only know a few places, so the places you know feel like beacons.

Or Buck is just making excuses for his lack of attention. Either way.

Really, it’s not until they turn onto the street that Buck notices. Though, it’s a long road, and they’re still a few miles out.

“This is weird,” Buck says.

“What is?” Sadie asks. She’s sitting across from him. Noticing his sudden onslaught of nerves.

“We’re on the same street as the wedding venue.”’

That makes Eddie look. He’d been typing a rather long message to his mother and not paying much attention to where they’re going. At Buck’s words, his attention snaps to the window.

“Shit, you’re right.”

Well, obviously Buck knows he’s right.

“Bobby,” he asks. “What’s the address of where we’re going?”

“Uh, it is…” Bobby reads. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Buck repeats. He grabs Eddie’s arm. “Oh? Oh, what?”

“Okay, well first let’s remember we don’t know how bad it is yet,” Bobby says, maintaining a steady facade.

“Bobby, it’s a three-alarm fire!” Buck exclaims, voice raising an octave.

“And the wedding is in days,” Eddie adds, voice wavering with stress. “There’s no time to do any repairs, even if it’s not totally ruined.”

Days. Days. What the fuck are they going to do?

“Okay, let’s not jump to any conclusions. Technically, the address is for the building next door,” Bobby explains. “Everything might be fine.”

Everything is not fine. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Two minutes after his painstaking revelation, Buck finds himself standing next to his fiancé on the street in front of their wedding venues, watching it plume with smoke. The wind blew the flames from the building next to it, and the roof caught. It won’t fare as badly as the other building, but it certainly won’t be available for their wedding.

They are getting married.

In three days.

Their wedding is in three days.

Their wedding is in three days and has no venue.

Because their venue is burning right in front of him.

Their venue was also their caterer, so add that to the fucking fire.

“Buck! Eddie!” Bobby calls. “Work first, react later!”

Easy for him to say! It’s not his wedding venue!

“Come on.” Eddie tugs on his turnouts. “We’ve got to go.”

Buck feels like he’s been possessed by a heap of barbed wire.

He turns his head to Eddie. His eyes are bugged out so wide they might pop from his head. An absurd but sticky thought pops into his head.

“You jinxed us,” Buck accuses.

“Buck!” Eddie complains.

---

And 🚨:

---

“Okay, that makes sense. Was it his family?”

Buck nods. “They were religious. Conservative. Southern.”

“I can relate,” Eddie tells him.

“Eventually, I just wanted to be able to relax, though,” Buck says. “I made him promise we’d do it at the end of the tour. Not to his family. Just, to friends… And in public.”

Eddie’s expression softens as he realizes.

“And then he died.”

“Yeah.”

And then he died.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie exhales.

Buck shakes his head. His eyes start to sting.

“It’s stupid, Eddie. I know there’s no logic behind it. It just feels like once something is out loud, it can be taken away.”

Eddie nods, understanding the thought process.

“We both know I can’t promise you I won’t spontaneously die,” he says. “Especially in a global pandemic.”

“I know,” Buck nods.

“But, uh…” Eddie sighs. “It’s like you said when I was worried about Chris, right? I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

“Prove it to me?” Buck asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “I’ll just prove that we get to have a life together. Even if we’re both a little bit scared of dying.”

“I’m scared of you dying,” Buck reminds him.

“Okay, well we’re at an equal risk, so… Not the point, actually. Buck, the point is, I’ll show you every day, alright?” Eddie promises. “We get to have this.”

Buck takes a deep breath. He leans forward in bed and grabs Eddie’s hand.

“I don’t know if I’d believe anyone else,” he says quietly.

Eddie shuffles up the mattress, closer to Buck.

“Believe me,” he says.

“Okay,” Buck relents. “But only because you’re very pretty.”

Eddie smirks. “It’s a gift.”

“Mmm, or a trick.”

Eddie chuckles and kisses his temple, right beside the birthmark.

“I love you,” he says. “That’s not going anywhere, okay?”

“Okay,” Buck breathes.

He decides to try his best to believe him.

---

And the 90 sentences I wrote for this damn 🩸:

---

But it does show Buck what she’s up to.

It kind of makes him mad, actually. Eddie has gone to such intense, devastating lengths to hide himself. Meanwhile, his attacker has been out here, just living life. Posting about walks through the park and her latest baking experiment. How is that fucking fair?

It’s not.

It’s not fair.

And while Buck knows what he has to do isn’t fair either - isn’t right or human or good - he tries to keep that in mind.

She ruined Eddie’s life. Twice. She didn’t have to do that. Now, what choice does Buck have?

February 10th, 2025

Eddie does something on Monday that he perhaps should not do. Something the tiniest bit risky. After his call with Adriana, he’s feeling that a bit of risk taking to get his life back where it needs to be is necessary. And anyway, he’s not doing anything illegal. Not doing anything wrong. Nothing he can be arrested for.

He’s picking his son up from school.

Chris pauses, exiting Durand School to see Eddie in the driver’s seat of the truck. His eyes widened with nerves for a moment. Eddie felt a rush of guilt. He doesn’t want to make Chris worry. Doesn’t want to cause any undue stress. He just wants to feel like a normal dad again, picking his kid up from school.

But then Chris breaks out into a wide grin, and Eddie feels his whole body relax.

“You came!” Chris exclaims, surprised, when he reaches the vehicle.

Eddie climbs out to help him into the front seat. Not that Chris needs a lot of help anymore. Mostly just someone to hold his crutches and bag.

“I did,” Eddie confirms. He tries to keep his voice even.

“You’re not worried?”

“No,” Eddie says. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m not doing anything I’m not allowed to do.”

Chris thinks about this. “I’m glad you came today.”

“Me too,” Eddie decides. “Do you want to grab ice cream or something on the way home?”

Chris narrows his eyes. “I’m not a little kid, remember?”

“Jeez, I didn’t know ice cream had an age limit,” Eddie frowns. “Buck will be devastated to hear this. You know how seriously he takes his Neapolitan.”

Chris smirks. “Fine. Okay. I want ice cream.”

Eddie grins. “Thought so.”

Fifteen minutes later, they’re sitting on a little patio, under the shade of an umbrella. Eddie is in the darkest seat, also covered by sunglasses and a hat. Chris sits in the sunshine, spooning strawberry ice cream from a little paper bowl.

“So, I wanted to run an idea by you,” Eddie says.

“Me?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, you. Who else?”

“I don’t know,” Chris shrugs. “What is it?”

“Well, I think I need to get a job,” Eddie says.

“But you can’t be a firefighter,” Chris fills in.

“No,” Eddie says. “I don’t think I can.”

“So, then what?”

“Well, May suggested I look into telehealth services. Like a hotline for medical advice or something,” Eddie says.

Chris nods. “You’d be good at that.”

“Thank you,” Eddie replies. “But, uh, I did a little research and I think I found something different that suits me even better.”

“What is it?”

“Well, there’s this nonprofit that operates out of Los Angeles looking for people with medical experience. Nurses. Doctors. Paramedics.”

“Like a charity?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, but I’d get paid,” Eddie says. “It’s a job. Bringing emergency medical care to people who maybe don’t feel safe to call for help.”

“Like… You?” Chris whispers the last part.

“Yeah, but not just like me,” Eddie explains. “All kinds of people. People facing deportation. Homeless people. People who can’t afford an ambulance ride. Stuff like that.”

---

This is easier to count again haha 🔮:

---

Buck wakes up with his cheek pressed into the bannister support poles of Bobby’s apartment stairwell. He can feel their imprint as he woozily pulls his upper body upright. His head is pounding and he feels vaguely nauseous. Almost like he’s been drugged. Though, the comedown when they’d been spiked with LSD had been far more gradual than the sudden, brutal snap back to reality that had been whatever that was.

Not a coma, he realizes. If he’s sitting in the stairwell to Bobby’s apartment, not a hospital room, then it wasn’t a coma dream. Kind of an insane regular dream, though? And why had he passed out in the first place?

Acutely aware he won’t find any answers here, parked on his ass, Buck pulls himself to his feet. Slowly, and gripping the bannister for support, just in case, he straightens out his body. His legs give a little wobble.

What the fuck happened to him?

Partway down the stairs, Buck looks up and down. Should he go out to the Jeep and risk driving home? Feeling like this? He supposes he could call Eddie. Eddie would come for him, no questions asked. He knows he could ask Bobby for help, too. No matter what just happened between them. But his brain is battling two contradictory memories; the fight he had with Bobby in the kitchen and the memory he somehow intruded on of Bobby at his father’s funeral. If that was even real. The easy thing to do would be to go downstairs and call Eddie, not deal with any of it. Hold onto the only thing he knows really happened.

With a sigh, Buck turns and climbs the stairs. Up towards Bobby’s.

The moment his foot hits the landing on Bobby’s floor, Buck sees the breathless, similarly disoriented face of his captain jogging down the hallway. He looks pale. Hair a little mussed. Half his face is red, like it’s been pressed against something, too.

---

A bunch for this guy here 🧟:

---

“May is awake and lucid,” she says. “She’s asking for you.”

Athena grabs one of Hen’s hands and squeezes it.

“Thank you. Thank you.”

Then she hurries off in the direction of her daughter’s sickroom.

Hen doesn’t go after her. She waits, lingering, to speak with Bobby.

“Did you find Michael?” She asks.

Bobby shakes his head slightly.

“It looks like he was infected in the initial outbreak or sometime soon after.”

Hen’s shoulder sag. “Damn it. Poor Athena. Poor kids.”

Bobby nods. He doesn’t know what else to say. Yes. It’s horrendous. Everything is always so horrendous and everyone’s families are always dying.

“We should ask her to stay,” Hen says quietly. “She’s a friend. We trust her. The kids will be good for Denny.”

Bobby knows they have enough food to stretch to more than just the three of them. Plus, more hands means more potential to harvest more. Fish more. Preserve more.

“It’s not just my decision,” Bobby says. “We’ll have to discuss it as a group.”

“No, but it’ll go whatever way you want it to go,” Hen says. “You know that.”

He does.

“I think it’s a good idea, Hen. But I want everyone’s input.”

“Like you did with the radio?” She asks.

Bobby raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Buck told you?”

“Oh, yes.” She says. “Wanted to get ahead of it, I guess.”

“Do you think I did the wrong thing?” Bobby asks.

Hen might be the only person he’s willing to ask this of. The only person whose answer he really wants to know.

“No,” she says. “I don’t think you did the wrong thing. But I’m worried about him anyway.”

“Me too, Hen.” Bobby admits.

He’s always worried about Buck. All the time. Every minute. Even when Buck hasn’t done anything deserving of Buck’s worry.

One day, Buck is going to finally let himself realize they’re all dead. Maddie. Abby. Every person he knew and loved before this. He’ll realize they’re all gone. And Bobby worries, every moment, that it will destroy him. He worries he won’t find a reason to keep pushing forward.

---

A few here 👑:

---

Chim finally gets a chance to talk to Hen about it, privately, somewhere around four in the morning. They’re in the ambulance, driving back from yet another party gone wrong that resulted in a hospital transport. At least this time no one puked. Just a badly broken ankle from a drunken trampoline adventure.

“So you forgot to get her number,” Hen says. “Can’t you go back?”

“Stroll up to a gated mansion tomorrow and say, ‘hi, I’m the guy who kissed your daughter while you were trying to set her up with rich hedge fund types?’ I don’t think so, Hen.”

“She’s probably trying to find your information, too,” Hen tries.

“I hope,” Chim grumbles.

“And, hey, you’re very findable on social media,” Hen adds. “She won’t have trouble.”

“Should I message her brother?” Chim asks. “Is that crazy? He was nice!”

“Mmm, maybe wait until you’ve slept for all forms of communication,” Hen advises. “She knows you’re at work, anyway. She won’t be expecting to hear from you.”

“Right. Right. You’re so smart. Why are you so smart?”

“I had a nap in the bunk room while you were at the party.”

Damn. Yeah. A nap would make him sharper.

“So, it’s just a waiting game for now,” Chim sighs. This is not helping with the resounding feeling that he may, in fact, be a complete fool.

“I think so,” Hen agrees. “Sorry, Chim.”

👑👑👑

By some stroke of fate, he’s not waiting very long.

When they park the ambulance in the engine bay and climb out, sore and tired, Chim is met with the sound of a strangely familiar voice. One he thinks he may just be hallucinating.

“You’re the captain? That’s so cool!” He hears. “That means you’ve been doing this forever, right? You know a lot about it?”

---

OKAY BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING! THAT IS WHERE MY LAPTOP ABANDONED ME.

30 for 🔼:

---

She accepts the cards she’s been dealt, just like last time. After all, didn’t she shuffle the deck?

She sees her son as much as she can. She goes back to her office admin job as soon as she’s able. She misses Eddie’s shield ceremony. His request. She avoids his parents while they’re in town altogether. Her choice.

Other than coworkers, she really has no adults to see. Compounded with that, she and Eddie have made the decision not to tell family - even Christopher - until her second trimester. So Shannon finds herself existing in this strange vacuum of silence. Again, one of her own making. But difficult to navigate nonetheless.

That changes about seven weeks after her accident. Completely unintentionally, she might add.

None of it was ever a plan in her head.

She’s been seeing a physical therapist for her shoulder. Her ankle has healed on an intended timeline, not causing her much additional trouble. Her shoulder, on the other hand, has been a source of difficulty. Perhaps with everything else changing in her body, it can’t quite figure itself out. It wouldn’t be the only thing.

She’s thirteen weeks along now. Almost at that second trimester mark. Almost at the point where not only will they be able to tell people, but they’ll have to. Namely their son. She’s not really showing per say, but she certainly feels bigger and tighter. Her chest is another matter entirely.

So, to paint the picture, there she is; thirteen weeks pregnant with a man whose trust she shattered, shoulder hardly functional, sitting in the waiting room of her physical therapist in loose sweats and her baggiest tee shirt because nothing fits her boobs properly anymore, and who walks in? Or hobbles in, rather? Her soon-to-be-ex-husband’s best friend.

---

33 for 💐 (YEAH THANKS I THOUGHT APRIL WAS FUNNY):

---

She orders a wine spritzer. April orders a cider. They sit in a corner booth and for a good few minutes, it’s awkward as hell. Neither of them really seems to know where to start. Which makes sense, because they didn’t exactly have any solid communication foundations to begin with. May is reminded, strangely, of the time Sue left her and Claudette to sort out their issues in the quiet room, right before the fire at Dispatch. Not that she thinks this will end the same way, obviously.

“Listen,” May starts after the server brings them their drinks. “I’m sorry if I misunderstood things. I really got the sense you didn’t like me.”

April frowns. “I’m not sure how, honestly. I was trying pretty hard to get to know you.”

“I think I definitely, uh, read things wrong,” May admits. “I’m definitely… Confused about things. But, come on, April. You have to admit, you were acting super competitive with me in class.”

Her brows furrow, hazel eyes giving the impression she’s sifting through memories.

“Was I that bad?” She asks.

“Yes,” May insists. “You disagree with everything I say. You compete over grades. When you did better than me on the criminology midterm exam, you literally said April always comes before May.”

April’s cheeks redden.

“Oh my god,” she mumbles.

“You did say it!” May reiterates.

“No, I know,” April says. “I’m sorry, I just… God, it’s stupid. You thought I was serious?”

“Well, yeah?”

April takes a long sip of her cider.

---

45 for darling Cranberry! 🦮:

---

Cranberry brings Chris the ball, pressing it eagerly into his hand.

“Ew, so much slobber,” Chris complains, wiping his hand on his pants. Luckily, laundry day is tomorrow.

“Well, you’re the one who keeps throwing it for her,” Buck says. He’s just been snapping photos to send to Eddie.

“Gross, Cran,” Chris chides, and throws the ball again, a little absentmindedly. This time, the ball goes high. Higher than Buck would have liked. And at an awkward angle.

Cranberry twists her body as she jumps, catching the ball midair. When she comes back down, she fumbles, front left paw hitting the ground hard and buckling under her. She yelps and stumbles forward.

“Cranberry!” Chris shrieks.

Buck lurches forward to where they’re playing, straining his leg.

Cranberry stands and stumbles a little again. She lifts her injured paw, favoring it. Tail tucked between her leg, she limps towards Buck, seeking comfort.

Buck lowers himself down as quickly as he can manage to examine her.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asks.

“Did she break her leg?” Christopher asks, bottom lip trembling.

Buck lifts Cranberry’s injured leg. It doesn’t look broken. He flexes it. Her elbow and shoulder move without resistance, but she fights him when he tries to straighten her wrist. It can move, it just hurts her.

“Is she okay?” Chris asks again.

Buck feels a pang of annoyance.

“This is why I asked you not to throw it too high,” he grits out.

Tears spill out from the boy’s eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, Buck.” He blubbers. “I didn’t mean to hurt her!”

Buck clenches his jaw. He feels unreasonably angry and panicked. If Christopher had just listened this wouldn’t have happened.

“I know it was an accident,” Buck manages.

“I’m sorry, Cranberry,” Chris cries. He takes his glasses off to wipe his eyes.

“I think it’s just twisted,” Buck says. “I’m going to bring her inside and call the vet to see if she needs to get checked out. Okay?”

#daisies and briars writes #things we're all too young to know fic #any other way fic #long death fic #weary memory fic #go and kill go and die fic #madney cinderella fic #buddie shannon throuple fic #buck service dog fic

21 notes · View notes

b4tasquad · 1 year ago

Text

DISTRACTION: AJ SHABEEL

Authors note: i just had to I’m sorry😭 also wrote this at night in one sitting, if there are typos/ grammatical errors, I’m really sorry.

Warnings: most of it is smut ( 18+) minors dni

…

Aj’s days were always a new adventure. There was always something new to do regarding work, and there was never a dull task he was completing. To many, a man in his mid-twenties working such an uncertain job was crazy. There was always judgement for his way of life, but the man was genuinely never bothered by it.

He was content, and that was all that mattered. Coming home that day, a grin on his face at the video he knew was going to be well liked, he felt as if there was nothing that could knock him off his high horse.

The second Aj’s eyes had landed on you though, he knew something had happened. From the way you looked so unenthusiastic to the furrow between your eyebrows. You were burdened by something, and God forbid your boyfriend let it brother you.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

At the arrival of your boyfriend, you pout slightly, just wishing to be in his arms. As if reading your mind, Aj’s arms open and welcome you into his embrace. Eagerly you get off the couch and leap into his awaiting arms, every single worry fading away as his cologne overtakes your senses.

There are nothing you can use to express the feeling of being in his arms other than coming home. He carries a sense of protection with him that you’ve became so used to.

After finally feeling like you could speak without breaking down in tear, you pull away from his chest. “My boss screamed at me.” Aj nods, hands coming to cup your cheek as he makes sure to let you know he’s listening. “Told me I was being unprofessional for something that wasn’t even my fault!”

“What a bitch.”

You’d usually scold your boyfriend for his lack of respect, but right now you couldn’t find it in you to do so. She had humiliated you in such a public standard, leaving you to actually look unprofessional. It was no lie that you let many walk over you, it was a bad habit. But even this was something you refused to accept.

“I’m not mad.” You sigh, leading him to your shared room. He takes a seat on the bed, pulling you to sit sideways on his lap. “I just feel stupid. She made me feel stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” He kisses your cheek affectionately. “You’re the smartest person I know, baby. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

At his words, a little feeling of hopefulness fills your deflated mood. “You really mean that?”

“Course’ I do.” Aj speaks with such certainty, it makes your legs shake. Under the faint lighting the two of you have in the room, his features light up, illuminating his beauty perfectly. He was beautiful inside out, and you loved it.

You lean his head an inch back before capturing his soft lips in the slowest, most meaningful kiss. What had been a show of gratitude turned more heated as Aj placed his palms on each side of your hips and placed you on his lap properly. Your arms find a secure spot around hi shoulders, hands inching him closer by a push at the back of his head.

The two of you work in sync, your bodies moving in one to full-fill your desires. It doesn’t matter how many months you’ve dated, or the amount of times you had already been in this position; Aj explored your body like he’d never seen it before. Every caress with the intent of getting to know your body inside out.

Even with your love for this steady and secure pace, you needed a relief right know. The incident at work was still running through your mind, and all you wanted was to: forget forget forget.

At your shift in the make out, Aj gazes up at you, and there’s nothing that can prepare him for the next words you utter. “Fuck me dumb.”

He stiffens, body failing him as thousands of thoughts speed through his troubled mind. Aj’s sat still, eyes on the wall behind you in shock. You take his silence as your cue to continue. Rocking your body slightly forward, and leaning into his hear you kiss the skin. “Please Aj, make me forget.”

While the man might not listen anywhere else, here he’s obedient and instantly flips you over. You lay with your back pressed up against the soft mattress, while Aj’s diving into your body, kissing, licking and sucking like it was his only goal in life.

His mouth works wonders, and his touch haven’t even moved down from your upper body before you start to let out sinful noises. It seems to fuel his eagerness, because in seconds, he’s pulling down your sleep attire, finger hooking around your underwear.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” His question is one he knows the answer to. The only reason he’s ‘asking’ is so you verbally tell him how much you need him. At your breathy mumbles, Aj teasingly kisses your clothed core. “I guess not.”

The speed in wich you’ve pulled him back from leaving you unattended is actually abnormal, and even Aj has to chuckle a little at how impatient you’re being. “Please.”

The please is all Aj needs to hear, because the second it leaves your lips, he’s nose in between your legs, lips and tongue working in unison to take you there.

His perfect laps and sucking are affecting you in ways nothing else can, and by the time he licks a clean swipe up your slit, you can already feel the temperature rising to unbearable heat.

You’re thankful for Aj’s beautiful hair, because with his long curls you’re able to guide him, pulling in the direction you needed him the most. Like a starved man, he eats you out, eyes blown open wide and breath hot against your core.

“Aj.”

The moans you’re letting out makes him struggle to continue, the dent in his pants becoming too hard to bear. “Come on.” He encourages, not for a second stopping his action of licking you dry. “You’re almost there.”

And there’s no lie in that, because the second the words leave his mouth your legs starts to quiver around his head, head leaning back and eyes shutting. Your high washes over you, providing you a feel of euphoria as your boyfriend works you through it.

You’re not completely recovered when he pulls away, lips crashing against yours in a dizzying meeting. It takes you great strength to move your lips against his, but his hand against your jaw makes it easier and you kiss him back just as roughly.

Faintly, you can make out Aj unzipping his pants, letting his hard bulge become visible. Even in your hazy state, you know exactly where this is going.

“I don’t know if I can, Aj.”

At your words he just nods, as if he’s certain. Leaning over you he trails kisses across your face. “You’ll try though?” He asks, obviously expecting a certain answer. “My good girl. You’ll take it, right?”

Your answer comes out in broken moans and half nods. That’s all your boyfriend needs because without warning he smoothly glides in, your drenched core welcoming him like always.

A painful whimper leaves your open mouth at the impact, and Aj kisses your neck repeatedly. “You’re doing great, baby.” You focus on his words, finding it was much easier than centering upon the pain. “I’m gonna move, okay?”

When given the signal, Aj freely moves, his experienced strokes pleasuring you in a way you found hard to understand. With every snap of his hips, sound from his mouth, and movement of his fingers around your throat, you find yourself falling more and more into the sexual satisfaction.

Your dispute with your boss was long forgotten as Aj’s name was the only thing on your mind. Someone could ask you something as simple as your birthday and you’re sure the answer would be too far away to get it.

Getting lost in the feeling of him filling you up, you close your eyes. “Eyes on me.” Aj reminds you.

The last strokes before your orgasm were a blur because the pleasure becoming too much is the only thing you can focused on. “I’m-“

“I know.” Your boyfriend kisses your lips. “Go ahead, baby.”

His words made the awfully tight knot in the lower part of your stomach snap, leaving you a loud mess. Aj talks you through it while riding out your orgasm. Coming undone for the second time feels even more amazing than the first time because you’re so out of it. You have no idea where Aj finishes or when he gets up to go to the bathroom, but when he comes back with a damp wash cloth in his hands there’s no question.

He was the best distraction ever.

…

Tag list:

@p3drii , @jiusz , @n1kodl , @shuuuuush , @w1shes43 , @alltoowill0w , @slutforpablogavi , @enhacolor

(Check pinned to be added!)

#Aj shabeel #beta squad #✭b4tasquad speaks #youtube #Aj shabeel x you #Aj shabeel x reader #smut

142 notes · View notes

kyberblade · 1 year ago

Text

Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 17

A/N: This is a heavy one! I channeled my own feelings heavily near the end and I have no regrets. I said what I said. But there is also an inordinate amount of fluff, so…. Do with that what you will. We’re coming up on the end. 😔 Just a handful of chapters left. But don’t worry! I still have allllll sorts of shenanigans planned for these three in the sequels that will follow shortly, so we won’t be without them for long. 😁 I can’t believe we’ve come this far! 🥹 I’m so sorry this chapter took me so long, I was avoiding it because…. Well…. You’ll see. (Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.)

(This takes place right where the other one left off and goes to the end of episode 2x6/14, The Tragedy.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Lots of angst. Tears. Some canon divergence that has been planned from day one. And I’ve been told to add “emotional damage” as a warning by my beta. 😂🤣 (I’ve read over this so many times, but I’m sure I’ve missed something in the typo department. Any mistakes are my own.)

Word count: 15,303 (I said what I said.)

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for your endless hours helping me over goodness knows how long since I started this, for going over the probably 75 iterations of this chapter this past week alone, and for reading this over for me and letting me know I’m not crazy.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

Xxx

You woke up on the Crest, stretching as much as you could in the tiny bunk compartment. The lights were set to dim, giving you just enough light to see in the small area. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw you were alone, no beskar to keep you company. A quick look up showed the hammock empty as well.

Furrowing your brows, you pushed up onto your palms, leaning on them heavily as you tried to fully wake up. Wiggling your fingers, you smiled, the plush feel of the new bed roll beneath you bringing back thoughts of a grumbling Din lugging it onto the Crest before you left Coruscant a little over a day ago.

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” He mumbled, pulling the old mat out as he threw the new one into the bunk, the soft thud it made on impact an anticlimactic end to his brief tantrum.

“You did,” hands on your hips, you mused quietly with a nod, watching as he slit the straps keeping it bound tight with a knife he kept in his boot.

“Now what do we do with the….” Turning, Din sighed when he found Grogu sitting on the old bed roll, cooing happily. “….old one.”

“Is it really such a bad thing that the Crest has a little more padding?” You asked carefully, leaning toward him slightly. The tilt of his helmet was not amused. “I mean, we do have some bumpy landings….”

Din simply stared at you for a long moment, in which you tried not to break, a smile fighting desperately to crawl up your face and reflect in his visor. In the end, you won, when he turned away before you cracked, stomping up the ladder and into the cockpit.

Scooping up the child, you began that way as well. “Come on, kid. We have places to go.” The engines roared to life. “Jedi to meet.” You set him on the floor of the cockpit when you were high enough on the ladder before pulling yourself the rest of the way up. “Seeing stones to…. See.”

Din snorted. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“What?” You plopped into your seat, watching the child scramble up into his.

“Very eloquently put.”

You scoffed. “I’d like to see you do better.”

“When the time comes, I will.”

“No, now.”

He huffed out a laugh. “I’m not going after that. ‘Seeing stone to…. See.’ Come on.” He shook his head in amusement, going about the rest of the take off sequence.

“It's because you're afraid. Can’t top that, can you?” Smiling smugly, you fastened the safety belt.

“It’s only up from here,” he mused quietly, making you freeze and glare at the back of his head as he began to lift the ship up off the ground.

Grogu giggled from his seat, letting out a squeal as he clapped his hands.

“I feel ganged up on,” you grumbled, slumping back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest.

“Then have better jokes.”

Narrowing your eyes at the back of his helmet, you could just see his shoulders shaking gently from suppressed laughter. “Watch it, Tin Can.”

Making your way to the ladder leading to the cockpit, you smiled at the muted sound of Din’s voice drifting down through the hatch, Grogu’s soft coos dotted here and there.

Pausing at the bottom, one hand resting on a rung by your head, you waited and listened.

“Grogu.” Din’s modulated voice was the lightest you’d heard in a while. It lilted slightly like he was almost playing with the child.

The kid must have looked up, making Din chuckle before another moment passed and he said the name again with even more mirth to his tone. “Grogu?”

Another soft laugh came from the Mandalorian, Grogu babbling softly for a moment before Din started in again. “Give me the ball.” The kid made a sound of refusal, the rustling of fabric telling you he twisted away, pulling it from his guardian. “Grogu, give me the ball. Come on.” In the silence that followed, a quiet, pleased grunt came from Din when Grogu must have handed it to him. You could clearly picture the man in beskar holding it up teasingly just out of the kids reach. Suppressing a chuckle with a roll of your eyes, but unable to stop the smirk crawling up your face, you leaned your temple against the back of your hand on the ladder rung. “Okay, here we go. You can have it, just like before. Grogu, come on. You can have it. Come on.” A moment of silence before a louder, almost excited, “Dank farrik!”

Your eyes went wide, the child letting out a startled squawk, and you started to scramble up the ladder, stopping below the lip of the hatch, just out of sight, when Din began to backtrack. “Hey, no. I’m not mad at you. You did good.” He sighed heavily, his voice quieting. “I just…. When the nice lady said you had training, I just….”

When he sighed again, you climbed the last few rungs to peek over the edge of the opening, watching the scene unfold.

Din was looking at Grogu from the pilot’s chair, gently handing him back his silver ball from where it sat in the child’s lap. “You’re very special, kid. We’re gonna find that place you belong and they’re gonna take real good care of you.”

As he slowly turned back to look out the viewport, you smiled sadly. It wasn’t what he had said, it’s what he hadn’t. The implied meaning behind his words of the kid belonging anywhere other than with him…. And that he truly believed it, too. At least on some level. No matter how many times you told him the kid looked at him like he was the world, whatever was speaking right now was louder, and the voice Din ended up listening to in the end. You wanted to wrap that voice up with your whipcord and throw it out the back of the ship on the next backwater planet you landed on. You could do that now. Din had finally showed you how it worked.

“This is Tython,” he went on, obviously avoiding the subject. You set your forehead against the back of your hand on the top rung of the ladder, listening as he continued. “That’s where we’re gonna try and find you a Jedi. But you have to agree to go with them if they want you to. Understand?” Lifting up just enough to watch them again, you saw the child looking up at Din curiously, still fumbling his ball distractedly as he listened. The Mandalorian was still looking out the viewport pointedly, keeping his face forward, his shoulders tense. “Plus, I can’t train you. You’re too powerful. Don’t you wanna learn more of that Jedi stuff?”

That made your gut sink. You knew he needed a real Jedi, which you were not, but it still stung every time. You’d meditated with the kid, bonded, had conversations of sorts, and the thought of that just…. Going away…. Hurt. Swiping at an unexpected tear as it fell, you turned your attention back on your two favorite beings in the galaxy.

“I agreed to take you back to your own kind, so that’s what I need to do. You understand, right?”

Making your presence known by taking the last few rungs of the ladder with heavy footfalls, you climbed the rest of the way up into the cockpit, watching as Din’s shoulders relaxed a bit, but his head sat up straighter. Stepping up behind his chair, you set a hand on his shoulder.

Keeping your voice soft, you smiled fondly down at him as you spoke. “Who are you trying to convince, him or yourself?”

He didn’t answer.

Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, you changed the subject. “Did you get any sleep?”

Din nodded. “I did.”

“How much? We haven’t been flying that long….”

After a moment of silence he finally said, “Enough.”

Sensing the exchange between him and Grogu still hanging over his head, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to rest on his chestplate, and setting your chin on his pauldron. Turning to look at him as best you could this close, you spoke lowly close to his ear. “Well, I slept great. Thank you for the new bed roll.”

He nodded, but you felt him relaxing under your touch, so you went on. “I appreciate you, you know that, right?” His head turned just slightly to try and look at you, but you were too close, so he took a hand off the controls and brought it up to gently grab your wrists, slowly moving his thumb back and forth in absent patterns on your skin.

“Whatever ends up happening with the kid, will be because of you, Din.” His thumb slowed for a second before resuming its pace. “You got him out, you’ve taken care of him, he’s learned from you. Already. No matter how powerful.”

You went to stand up, but his grip on your wrists tightened, holding you to him. Smiling, you cinched your arms a little bit tighter as you sighed, turning your face more into his neck.

“No matter what happens with him, whatever he becomes…. It will all be because of you. It all comes back to you.”

Xxx

Scrubbing at you vambrace, you sat in the main hull, the dull beeps of the Crest as it orbited Tython the only sound.

Grogu had decided that a particularly messy ration pack was his next victim, and when you’d tried to wrestle it out of his grip, the sludge had poured down the beskar protecting your forearm. Clambering down the ladder, you’d dashed to the refresher to rinse your glove of the goo, hanging it on a hook to let the leather dry.

Now you sighed as you got back to your feet from the crate you were perched atop, trudging back into the refresher and slouching over the sink as you rinsed the metal off as best you could, wiping it down thoroughly with a cloth you’d found in a toolbox near the crate and dampened with water.

“Everything come off?”

You startled at the voice, shooting up straight to your full height, your head thumping on a low hanging cabinet in the cramped space.

Rubbing it with a wince, you glared at your beskar companion’s reflection in the mirror as he leaned on the door frame easily, arms crossed over his chest as if nothing had happened.

“Don’t do that,” you hissed. “How many times do I have to-”

“At least a few more,” he mumbled in amusement, shifting his weight as he adjusted where his shoulder leaned into the frame. “Everything-”

“Yeah, it’s all coming off,” you groused, turning your attention back to scrub at the vambrace with extra vengeance. “At least it wasn’t something with jogan fruit in it. Then I would have to paint these,” you teased, smirking. “Have you ever met a purple Mando?”

“There’s a first for everything,” he shrugged, his voice easy, almost lazy.

“Hmmm,” you narrowed your eyes at him in amusement. “But then I wouldn’t match you. How would that make you feel?” Grabbing the scarf Vanth had given you on Tatooine out of your back pocket to dry off the armor, you turned to face Din, a smirk climbing your face. “Admit it. You like people knowing we’re-”

“We’re what?” He cut in, angling his head down to hold your gaze as you stepped up as close to him as you could, the rest of him as still as a statue.

Looking up into his visor, you tilted your head slightly, the smile not going anywhere as you whispered, “You know.”

“I do,” he agreed, nodding before tilting his head to the side to match yours and holding your gaze again. “Do you?”

Eyes flitting back and forth on his visor, head hinged back to keep looking at him, you paused. “A group.”

“A…. A group,” he repeated after a moment, hesitantly, something sarcastic in his voice.

“Yeah. Right?”

Gently shaking his head at you after a moment, he pushed off the frame and turned back toward the hatch.

Grabbing your glove, you followed after him. “What?”

“This isn’t working for me,” he said with a sigh.

“Well maybe you aren’t working for me.”

Din rounded on you, staring at you for a long moment before he grabbed your wrist, spinning you into the ladder up to the cockpit, and crowding you into the bars until you had nowhere to go; nowhere to look but up at him, your head angled back until it thumped lightly on one of the rungs.

“Is that so?”

Leaning your head further back so you could look down your nose at him, you narrowed your eyes. “Maybe it is. Why don’t you try and find out, oh wise and brilliant Mandalorian?”

“Mmmmm….” The sound vibrated from his chest and into yours, sending a pleasant hum just under your skin from your head down to your toes. “Why do you make everything so….”

“Interesting?”

“Difficult.” His left hand came to rest on your hip, sliding around to rest on your lower back, his right still clutching the ladder up by your head, his grip adjusting slightly making the leather of his glove creak in protest.

You laughed softly. “Because otherwise our lives would be very boring,” you teased, reaching out to place your palm on his chest plate, slowly moving it up to wind into his cowl like you always did. Still gripping your vambrace and glove in your left hand, that arm snaked around his neck to pull him closer by your forearm.

When his forehead softly came to rest against yours, you both sighed, shoulders relaxing as your bodies deflated slightly, melting into the other’s warmth. The hand by your head came to rest on you cheek but quickly wound around behind your neck, threading into your hair.

“I came down here to tell you we’re about to start the landing procedure,” his voice was tight, like he really wanted to be saying something else. “But you distracted me.”

You chuckled softly. “So sorry.”

He tugged your hair gently, leaning back just enough to look you in the eyes. “Behave.”

Eyes dancing across the T of his visor, you felt the smile climbing back onto your face. “Of course.”

“I’m serious. This is for the kid. He needs- We need to find his kind.”

The rigidity was coming back into his shoulders, so you tossed the vambrace and glove to the floor, pulling his attention down toward them. He began to ask what you were doing when you placed both hands on the sides of his helmet and made him focus back on you.

“Din. Listen to me. He’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay. This will work.”

He only nodded, a small sigh leaving his chest when you pulled his head back to yours, settling your foreheads together once again.

“Just breathe. It’ll work out. You’ll see.”

His arms around your back and neck pulled you tighter.

“I’m always right. Remember?”

He snorted out a laugh. “Yeah. Sure. Now come on, I left the kid alone in the cockpit before you distracted me. I’m surprised the ship is still in orbit and not careening toward the surface already.”

Xxx

Speeding over the surface of the planet, you watched the green of shrubs and towering red rocks whizz by.

“Looks deserted,” you mumbled, surveying the vast sea of nothingness. If this had once been a sacred place for Jedi, it was long, long ago. Long enough for an age to grow over, covering everything in layers of dust, for plants to spread and conceal any remnants of life. “Sort of reminds me of Arvala-7.”

“Better for us,” Din mused softly, pointing at a distant mountain as the Crest approached. “Looks like that’s the magic rock I’m supposed to take you to down there.”

Grogu looked through one of the lower set windows as the ship flew over, letting out a lilting sound of awe that made you smile.

“Sorry, buddy. I can’t land on the top. Too small. Looks like we’re gonna have to travel the last stretch with the windows down.”

“With the….”

“Jet pack.”

Leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest, eyes on the profile of his visor, unamused, you stared as he turned to look at you before fiddling with the panel at his side. After a moment you mumbled, “How you still have a cape is beyond me. It should have been incinerated by your jet pack or an angry Jawa long ago.”

“It’s woven with beskar thread.”

Hesitation filled the air, a quiet pause in the conversation before you asked, “Really?” It was just absurd enough that a small part of you believed him. Very small.

Din turned to look at you fully, his voice flat and heavily sarcastic as he tucked his chin to his chest, peering at you through the top of his visor. “What do you think?”

Realization dawned on you faster than a fathier, your face melting into annoyance. “I think you’re a pain in my ass.”

Spinning back to face the viewport with a flourish, his hands in the air after an exaggerated shove against his thighs as if it took all his effort before they came to rest softly back on the control panel, his head tilted just so. “Well good, because that’s what I was going for.”

Glaring at the back of his head, you sunk further into your chair with a huff. “Just get this ship on the ground so I can roll my eyes and walk dramatically away from you as nature intended.”

With a flick of a switch, he’d turned on autopilot, the landing sequence beginning on its own. Din turned back to face you again with another small flourish, spinning in his chair just slightly before stopping himself with his other hand, making you smile softly. It reminded you of the kid. “You’re not going to go up there with us?”

Shaking your head, you sat up straight in your chair again, stretching as you started talking. “No, I need to clean up some things here on the ship.” Relaxing back into the seat, you tucked your legs up close to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, and setting your chin on your knees while you went on. “Some old crates of rations expired and need to be tossed before they go rancid. They’ll either start to smell or the kid will eat one and he’ll get sick and that will smell.” Din chuckled at the sour expression on your face. “I don’t like either option.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. I can turn on the camera in my helmet and you can watch on the holopad. Stay in communication on our comms.”

That made you sit up straighter just a bit. “You have a camera….? What can’t your armor do?”

He huffed in amusement. “Well, without me in it, it’s useless.” As he sat back in his chair, one hand propped on his thigh, the other lazily on the arm rest, hand dangling off the end without a care, you snorted a laugh as you noticed his chest puff up a bit.

Your head lolled to the side, temple resting against your left knee. “Why did I ask?”

Din simply glossed over your jab, shifting his weight slightly. “So we’ll wait. You take care of the crates, then-”

“No, Din.” Picking your head up to look at him straight on, you lowered your feet to the floor and sat forward, bracing your elbows on your knees and resting a hand on his knee. “Like you said, the kid needs this. I’m fine. I also wanted to check on something on the ship.”

That got his attention. He sat up straighter, his chest deflating as he mimicked your posture, leaning closer to you. “Check on what? She’s running just fine since Nevarro.”

You looked down to the side, patting his knee twice before tentatively explaining, “When they were doing the repairs, you were eating the fruit and I was turned around…. I saw one of them acting…. Shady. I completely forgot about it in everything that happened after, but I want to check out the panels I saw them working on and just give it a once over. Make sure we’re not going to explode on our seventy fifth jump to hyperspace or something.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’m sure it’s fine, but go ahead. Those mechanics were probably just nervous to be working on my ship. I made a…. Let’s just say a name for myself last time I left Nevarro.”

With a huff of laughter you leaned back in your chair, looking at him with a lazy tilt of your head. “So I heard.”

Din groaned as he once again mirrored you, leaning back in his chair, his head hitting the rest with a thump. “What did Karga tell you?”

“Nothing. You did.”

His visor snapped down to meet your cocked brow in question. “I did?”

You looked at him incredulously. “Yeah, it was one of the first things after I got on the Crest. You don’t remember?”

He sighed as his head lolled back against the chair again. “I’ve told you a lot of things. I guess it’s gotten lost in the mountain of others.”

That made you pause. “Do you not tell other people these things?”

Din spun back around to face the console. “I don’t tell other people much of anything.”

“Neither do I.”

“Patu.” Din looked over his right shoulder at the kid, shaking his head gently after a moment. You smiled as you looked at the little green face staring back with wide eyes. It was clear what he had meant. Neither do I.

Xxx

You unloaded boxes while Din flew the kid up to the top of the hill with the structure. Looking at the holo projection as Grogu screeched with glee, you saw Din’s visor angle down to the little green ward in his arms, the widest grin you’d ever seen on his face.

Carrying the holopad with you down the ramp and toward the hatch the workers had been stationed under on Nevarro, you felt a matching smile climbing your face at the infectious joy radiating off the kid.

After you set the pad near the landing gear of the ship on the ground, you pried the panel off and gave it a cursory glance for anything out of place.

“Hey, Din? Is there supposed to be a coupling by that bundle of wires closest to the landing gear?”

“No?” He answered after a moment. “Keep the panel open, I’ll be right there to look-”

You stood up straight. “No! No. Take care of the kid, I’ve got this.” Right? Right. It was just a patch job, something they used because they ran out of the necessary parts. “All you would do is take it off and look at it, and that’s all I’m going to do.”

“What if it explodes? I have armor-”

Sputtering, you stopped that train of thought immediately. “It’s not going to explode, stop it. Go.”

Din sighed. “Okay. But be careful.”

“I will. I’ll remove it then set it over with the crates I offloaded. They are way across the clearing. One of them broke when I lifted it and they are definitely bad already.” A shudder ran down your spine as you remembered the rancid smell of the expired packets. Pushing it as far away as you could in favor of more pleasant thoughts, you focused back on the device in your hand. Well, maybe not more pleasant, you thought with a grimace. “That way if it explodes or anything, it’ll be as far away from the Crest as possible.”

“What color was it?”

If Din could see your face right now, he’d make some joke about the comical twist of confusion screwing up your features. Is he asking about the ration packs? “What?”

“The coupling. What color?”

Oh. Of course. Why would he be asking about the- You shook your head. “Metal, like the rest of the interior of the ship.”

He huffed. “No, the light. The blinking light on the top.”

You froze. Staring at the light as it blinked lazily, you began to sweat and swallowed roughly. You hadn't mentioned that. “It went between red and green alternating.” Looking up and across the field at the crates of expired rations longingly, you wished for five minutes ago when the world was simpler, the worst problem to deal with some stinky food.

“Dank farrik!” Din’s voice hissed over the holopad, making you wince before it lowered back down to nothing but business. “Was it ever blue?”

Looking down to the part in your hand, your stomach sank as it flashed blue in your palm. “Yeah.”

Din sighed. “It’s a tracker.” You faintly registered what he was saying, but the word tracker kept echoing around your head on a loop, almost in tandem with the blinking of its light. “It’s not going to explode or anything, at least it shouldn’t, but it still wouldn’t hurt to get it as far away from the ship as possible. I’ll look at it when I come back down.”

Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. “What does the blue light mean, Din?” You couldn’t stop staring at the small offending tattletale in your palm.

“Red’s recording location, green is receiving signal, blue is…. sending.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. Great. “So it’s still active.”

Din hesitated before sighing. “Yes.”

“Osik!” Eyes shut tight, you went to clench your fingers around the device in aggravation, but thought better of it at the last second, stretching them out instead as far as possible while you glared at the device. You wanted to throw it across the clearing. “Should I step on it or something-” (“Shit!”)

“No!” He cut you off before lowering his voice. “No. We don’t want whoever it is to know we’re on to them.” Oh, but I do. Let them sweat a little bit. Let everyone know you don’t mess with- “Hopefully we can trace it back to whoever is getting the signal.”

You tried not to let your mind wander, but you couldn’t help it. Once it started, it was a rapid fire trail down the list of names. Endless possibilities of- But one in particular stood out. One sounded more likely than the rest…. “Din, what if it’s-”

“No,” he said again. “Don’t even start. There’s no way Gideon…. No.” The jet pack powered down. “I’m here. We’ll talk about it later. Just get it as far away from the ship as possible for now in case I’m wrong and it is some sort of explosive-”

“I’d almost prefer that at this point.” You hadn’t meant to interrupt him, but your mind was short circuiting right now, watching the loop of blinking lights repeat every few seconds. Red. Green. Blue. Red. Green. Blue. Red…. And the cycle repeated. Again. And again. And again.

Din laughed softly.

Screwing your eyes shut, the colors still flashed behind your eyelids. Red. Green. Blue…. “Plus you’re almost always wrong, so….”

The laugh melted into a soft growl.

Looking down to the holopad, you saw the camera pan around the mountaintop, a large circular stone in the middle of several taller stones. Whispers started to fill your mind. Nothing menacing, or sinister this time, but just gentle…. Nudges.

A sense of calm, of peace came over you, and the flashing of the tracker suddenly seemed trivial, the flicker of its light no longer a looming omen, but merely another happening in the day.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Din mumbled. “Does this look Jedi to you?”

You snorted as the whispers faded. “Don’t look at me, I just learned how to jump.” Not wanting to walk across the wide expanse of the valley, you looked at the tracker in disdain before floating it across the clearing, setting it delicately on top of one of the crates before you grabbed another crate and the holopad and headed back up the ramp of the Crest. “But just out of curiosity, what exactly makes something look…. Jedi…. to you?”

Din grunted.

The grin on your face kept climbing. “I’m only asking, because, you know…. I mean, you’re surrounded by it, really, so…. The kid…. Me, kind of…. Ahsoka.”

“What do you want me to say?” He sounded exasperated but amused.

Setting the crate down near the opening of the ramp with a huff, you stood up straight, turning back to the holopad with a smirk. “Well you haven’t said laser swords, so I guess that’s a good place to start.” The last crate was at the bottom of the ramp, and you made your way down to it leisurely.

Din grumbled, changing the subject. “I guess you sit right here.” The camera went out of focus as he shuffled the kid onto the top of the large stone in the center before taking a few steps back, the picture clearing back up quickly. You smiled at the sight of tiny Grogu on the large pedestal. “Okay. Here we go.”

Staring at the projection intently, you waited, but not even a voice entered your mind. Only silence stretched on as the kid tilted his head fondly at Din, cooing softly.

“This is the seeing stone, are you…. Seeing anything?”

With a roll of your eyes, you set the holopad on top of the box before picking it up by the handles with a grunt, and trudging up the ramp. “And you got after me earlier….” Making your way back up the ramp before setting your load down with a thud, you grabbed the holopad off the crate and collapsed to the floor, legs spread out lazily in front of you as you tipped your head back into the shade of the hull and out of the sun, laughing softly at Din’s response.

“Don’t start.” He walked around the large orb Grogu sat upon, his visor panning up and down as he surveyed for any clue. “Or are they supposed to see you? Maybe there’s some kind of control or something.“

A butterfly flew by, the child reaching for it with a soft squeal.

Din sighed, the tilt of the camera telling you his weight had shifted, his head cocking to the side in aggrivation. “Oh, come on, kid. Ahsoka told me all I had to do was get you here and you’d do the rest.”

Grogu looked poised to respond, but all three of your attentions were pulled to the sky when a ship flew over, beginning a landing pattern, circling lower and lower.

You were on your feet before you’d fully processed the decision to do so, everything spinning slightly from the speed with which you’d moved. Bracing a hand on the frame of the opening of the Crest, trying to keep the world from spinning any faster, you peered up toward the incoming ship, squinting against the bright sunlight. There was no particular aura around it, nothing menacing, but also nothing safe…. It was just blank. And that was almost more concerning.

Turning your attention back up toward the mountain top where the other two members of your clan were still investigating, you saw the shiny glint of your Mandalorian come into view on the ledge nearest to the Crest, looking down at the new visitors.

Din ran to the edge of the clearing, his visor turning down toward you, voice clear and calculating over the holopad. “Stay on the ship. We’re coming down.” With a few quick steps he was back in front of Grogu. “Time’s up, kid. We gotta get out of here.”

You saw a pillar of light shoot into the air, continuing high into the sky. Looking down to the holopad, you saw from Din’s perspective the beam of light was actually an energy field protecting the child, emanating from the stone. In the center Grogu sat in a perfect meditation pose, and the corner of your mouth twitched up. You’d been working with him on that.

The whispers were back, swirling around you, soft, kind, inviting, but above it all rose Din’s calm voice, “We don’t have time for this. We got to get….”

Before you could stop him, he tried to reach through the force field, the energy throwing him back across the mountaintop.

“Din!” You took a few steps forward, even though he was all the way up there, out of your reach.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he huffed as he got to his feet, turning back to face the light. “Hey! Snap out of it, kid!”

If the Mandalorian was one thing, he was persistent. “Din, that’s not going to work! It’s-”

“We got to get out of here!” Was your end of the conversation muted? With an aggravated huff you pushed that thought aside. Now wasn’t the time, he was just worried about the kid, you would be, too. You were. But you understood more than he did, the workings of the Force and other things, and that helped put you at ease, whereas he was fighting blind.

The child was at peace, one with the Force emanating from the stone, and you knew so long as he was there, he was safe. Nature would not abandon those it was reaching out to so intimately.

Din’s helmet swiveled to see a heat signature exiting the new ship where it had landed before turning back to the kid. “I’ll see if I can buy you some time. Can you please hurry up?”

As Din began to climb down the mountain, you started up the ramp toward the weapons locker. “I just have to grab another blaster, then I’m on-”

“No,” Din interrupted. “Stay.”

You paused, hands on the handles of the locker, completely frozen in place. So he did hear you. Good. Then he would hear exactly how low your voice dropped as you ground out, “Excuse me?”

“Until we know what’s going on. The kid is safe in that…. Thing, the ship is the next best thing for you until we know more about whoever this is. Probably whoever tracked us.” He sounded beyond exasperated. This was beyond his wits end, Force barriers and ancient temples, but he was trying.

You hesitated. “Keep your comms on. I’m staying on the ship only because we might need a quick get away.”

He was smiling, you could hear it. “Fine. But I’m turning the camera off. Runs down the charge-”

“Are you sure you aren’t a droid?” The locker doors squeaked as you opened them.

He hesitated only a moment, his voice low and unamused. “What?” The projection went dark, but the sound was still clear as ever, now coming from the comm on your belt.

Surveying your options, you grinned. “Nothing. Just trying to change the subject.”

Before he could respond, the sounds of blaster fire rang through the comms. Of course this is right after he cut the live feed. Shoving the holopad somewhere in the back of the weapons locker, you reached blindly for the nearest weapon. When you looked down and realized what it was, you smirked, slinging it across your shoulders. This’ll do.

“I’ve been tracking you, Mandalorian.” The voice was new to you and yet…. Something in the back of your head stood on alert at the sound. It wasn’t bad, it was just something…. Like an old friend had suddenly come back and stood in the next room discussing the weather. Mundane but comforting. Something about it pulling just at the edge of your memory….

“Are you Jedi?” Why does he assume Jedi after two seconds? You really needed to sit down with Din and have a Force Basics class, or something. “Or are you after the child?”

“I’m here for the armor.” That voice…. That niggling in the back of your mind wouldn’t be silenced. You knew this person. Somehow, in some lifetime, you’d crossed paths, maybe for only a moment, but it had been enough that your memory had decided to log it away for future use.

“If you want my armor, you’ll have to peel it off my dead body.” Rolling your eyes at Din’s reply, you double checked your weapons on your belt, freezing at the newcomer’s next reply.

“I don’t want your armor. I want my armor that you got from Cobb Vanth back on Tatooine. It belongs to me.”

Your head was spinning. That voice. It was older, gruffer than the last time you’d heard it, all those years ago on Coruscant. It couldn’t be….

“Are you Mandalorian?”

“I’m a simple man making his way through the galaxy. Like my father before me.”

Suddenly you were twelve years old again, the feeling of beskar stopping you like a wall of durasteel in the middle of the street slamming into you full force. Screwing your eyes shut, you leaned into the feeling. The voices all swelled at once, whispering indistinctly in one loud cacophony. No words in particular stood out until one repeated over and over.

Run.

Run!

As your eyes flew open, the conversation between the two men came back into focus, the newcomer issuing a threat.

“….I have a sharpshooter up on that ridge with a locked scope that will unload by the time my body hits the ground.”

Your feet began moving before you could think twice.

Din’s voice was dangerously low. “I’m the one wearing beskar. As soon as I see that muzzle flash, you’re both dead.”

The other man sounded amused. “I didn’t mean she was going to shoot you. My friend’s locked onto that little companion of yours up on the henge.”

You’d never moved so fast in your life.

A female voice came over the comm. “And if you remember, I don’t miss.”

“Fennec?” The shock in Din’s voice was not missed by you.

“You have a keen ear, Mando.”

They were just around the corner.

“You point that gun away from the kid or I’ll drop you both where you stand.” You heard his whistling birds engage and knew things would be winding down soon. Whether by choice or by violence, that was anyone’s guess.

“And if he doesn’t, I don’t miss, either.” All three heads snapped to you as you walked up from behind Din with your blaster drawn, aimed at the man, a second in your other hand pointed at the woman you guessed to be Fennec, and the rifle you’d stolen from the guard on Corvus slung across your shoulders and resting snugly on your back.

Looks were exchanged in the silence, Din shifting his weight slightly, but you saw his shoulders relax when you took a step closer to him.

The strange man looked resigned. “Let’s all put down our weapons, have a chat. There’s no need for bloodshed.”

Din gestured to the sniper with his blaster. “Tell her to drop the gun.”

“Tell her to drop hers,” Fennec fired back, letting out a soft huff after the man shot her a look. “Please.”

“After you put down the jet pack,” the man amended.

Din hesitated. “Same time.”

Despite saying ‘same time’, he waited until they were disarmed and off the child before he even reached for his jet pack. As everyone set their respective offending items down, you lowered your weapons, holstering them at your sides as you slid up next to Din.

“What are you doing here?” He mumbled, turning his face away from them as he set the jet pack against a large stone.

“It seemed like you might need some help.” Glancing over to the two strangers where they now stood across from you, you stood up taller. The man watched you with a critical eye as Fennec moved easily across the ledge she had been on toward her companion. “Looks like I was right.”

“I had it handled,” he groused, looking at you. “I told you to-”

Your face snapped over to peer into his visor, your reflection in the T doing nothing to dull the fire in your eyes as it blazed. “Din, so help me, you mention me staying on the ship one more time right now, I will throw you back there myself from here,” you hissed lowly, so the others wouldn’t hear. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm your voice, speaking as evenly as possible. “I can sense the kid, he is perfectly fine right now, safe, and where I need to be is here with you, so just….”

“Okay,” he agreed softly, nodding once at you before turning to the newcomers as Fennec finally made it off the ledge she’d been perched on.

Looking at the man for the first time, really looking, you tried to picture him a little bit shorter, a few years younger, that armor on the ship in much better shape…. Maybe if you squinted it would fit…. A name drifted in from their conversation, Boba Fett, and you tried to apply it to your memories of the armor. You studied his face as the three of them continued to exchange words, long jagged scars criss crossing his bald head; they looked painful. Finally something he said brought you back to the conversation at hand.

“I want my armor back.”

Din sounded exasperated at this point, and you wanted to smile. Everything about him was tired and the weight of it was starting to show. “It goes against the Mandalorian Creed.”

“The armor was given to my father, Jango, by your forebears. In exchange, I guarantee the safety of the child, as well as your own.” Boba looked at you, something in his eyes sparking as they fell to study your vambraces, then the mudhorn on your weapons at your waist before rising back to hold your steady gaze. “And that of your riduur.” (“Partner.”)

Before you could even think to respond, Fennec began.

“The bounty on your little friend has risen significantly. You can buy ten suits of armor for the price on its head.”

You’d had enough. “It is a he, and he has a name.”

She tilted her head at you in a small nod, a smirk starting up her face. “My apologies.”

Boba glossed over the small hiccup and circled back to the matter at hand. “I’d say we’re offering a fair deal under the circumstances.”

A ship suddenly flew overhead, low enough to mean intent, but high enough to keep its allegiance hidden, drawing all of your attention up to follow it before snapping into action.

Din met your gaze, his head tilting to the side just slightly before a small smile was crawling up your face. “I know. Go. I’ll be on the ship.” You reached out, giving his hand a squeeze as he gave you a quick nod, and you went separate ways, him up toward the child, and you to the Crest.

Pulling up short, you turned around, calling for him to stop. “Mando!” He skidded on the loose dirt, almost losing his footing before he recovered and turned to face you, his head once again tilted in question. Lugging his heavy jet pack up from where it rested on the ground, you took a few steps toward him before giving up and pushing it to him with an unseen force. “Don’t forget this.”

It landed against his chest just hard enough to earn an ‘oomph!’ on impact, his arms closing around it to keep it from falling. He nodded, lifting it to attach at his back before turning and flying up to the top of the hill.

You watched him go for only a moment, shaking your head fondly before turning toward the Crest once again.

Boba and Fennec scrambled the opposite way, but didn’t seem to be running away, just to a better vantage point. Deciding to trust them, you continued on to the ship.

Dashing up the ramp, you made it up right before the ramp lowered on the new ship, the voices of stormtroopers filling the clearing as heavy boot falls descended, thudding across the dusty surface of the planet. You hated it. It felt tainted. They shouldn’t be here. This was sacred ground, a special place, once a great temple….

Looking down to make sure your comm was clicked off so they wouldn’t know you were here, you startled when the troopers began dropping rapidly, blaster fire filling the air. Glancing around the corner you’d ducked behind, you saw Fennec perched halfway up the hill, picking them off one by one. Boba was nowhere to be found, but you knew he was close by. You could sense him.

And that’s when you knew.

He felt the same as when you ran into him in the streets of the Uscru district back home, something you didn’t understand at the time, but you did now. A sense of something broken, something healing, something safe, and something entirely good. Yes, he had shadows, dark places you could clearly see, but so did everyone. At his base, he was a good man, and you’d somehow run smack into him again.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed. I wish the universe would quit trying to prove a point so loudly.

Boba popped out from behind a rock right beside Fennec and for some reason, that made you smile. You knew he was there. He gestured to her and she nodded before they moved further down the hill.

If you didn’t have Din and a tiny little ward counting on you, you’d join them. But something inside told you to lay low. At least for now.

You watched Boba reappear like a shadow, slinking around the rocks as if he’d lived here all his life. He took out troopers left and right with the staff that had been strapped to his back. Your eyes were wide as you saw it shatter helmets with each hit.

Your attention was pulled away by an explosion, finding some troopers set up near the base of the hill launching explosives toward Fennec. She was still doing okay, but was having a harder time maintaining fire, ducking behind rocks to try and avoid the flying pieces of gravel. Her fire suddenly stuttered, and you saw her pause, following her line of sight, and you froze.

You didn’t know what it was, but you knew it was big. A trooper swung a massive gun on a stand toward her and opened fire as she scrambled away further up the hill. It’s shots came in rapid succession, hardly any pause between them as they turned the landscape into one giant curtain of sparks and smoke. It followed her as she ran along a ridgeline, something amusing tickling you that even with this massive weapon, they still couldn’t hit the broadside of a hillside. A small wave of relief washed over you as she finally ducked behind a large rock to hide from the blasts.

They kept pelting it with fire, launching their explosives at the rock in an attempt to dislodge it or her, whichever crumbled first, and you saw the rock begin to wiggle after an impact. An idea came into your head, and you saw Fennec disappear behind the boulder, so you reached out to see if maybe you could catch a glimpse and see if you were on the same page. You were.

From there it wasn’t hard to stay connected to her, almost seeing through her eyes as you enacted your plan.

As she braced her feet on the rock and pushed, grunting a “One,” you gave a little nudge yourself, but it barely budged.

She tried again, “Two,” and this time when you pushed a little harder, you saw it wobble forward.

Knitting your eyebrows, you focused on the large gun, causing it to jam. You gave one last push with Fennec’s shouted, “Three!” as she put everything she had into a final shove with her feet, sending the rock careening down the hill. Refocusing your efforts, you tried to guide it as best you could so it hit the most stormtroopers on the way down, including the massive gun at the bottom.

Only one was left, he had an orange shoulder marker indicating he was in change, but just as quickly as he issued orders to anyone left standing, Boba tapped him on the shoulder with his staff, making him turn only to have his feet swept from under him, his armor soon in pieces as he lay motionless at Boba’s feet.

He turned to look at the Crest, and you could feel his longing. Flipping your comm back on in case things took a turn, you stepped into the light. Stepping into the wide opening of the lowered ramp, you crossed your arms over your chest. He closed the distance between you quickly but cautiously. Standing at the bottom of the ramp, he fastened his staff onto his back as he peered up at you.

"I've come for what's mine."

"Well all of this is mine, buddy." You gestured to the interior of the ship behind you with a jerk of your head before aiming your vambrace at him, your flame thrower whirring to life as you held your ground. “I appreciate you protecting the kid, but I still don’t really know you, so just back off. Step away from our home.” He took a step toward you, holding his hands up in surrender when your vambrace whirred faster with a flick of your wrist. “Like I said, everything that’s in here is ours, so-”

"Not that." He pointed at the set of green Mandalorian armor you’d gotten from Vanth where it hung on the wall behind you.

Lowering your vambrace slightly, you looked at him with wide eyes as another wave of that familiarity washed over you. "It's you?"

He looked truly confused. "Me?"

"You." Lowering your arm fully, you stepped closer to him. “It’s really you.”

"Uh-oh." Lifting his hands still in surrender higher for a moment, he set one on your shoulder lightly as he maneuvered slowly around you, cautiously. "What do I owe you?"

Turning to keep him in your sights, you shook your head. "No, I-"

Boba stopped, turning to face you fully, both of you at the top of the ramp, with his arms hanging easily at his sides. "If Fennec ever wronged you, I can assure you she's a changed person now. We're working on-"

You laughed. "No! It's you! Nau ki’bas’ika." Something in you marveled at how those words had sounded so foreign back then, but now…. Now they flew off your tongue as if you’d known them your whole life. The little strings around your heart that bound your clan of three together cinched ever so slightly tighter, which you didn’t even think was possible. Every time it happened, it took your breath away. Every added knot one more confirmation in a long line of things that you were where you were supposed to be. (“Little light bug.”)

Understanding dawned on his features, something soft coming over his eyes. “Te ad'ika...?” He smiled. "My, how you've grown." (“The little one.”)

Din’s voice crackled over your comm. He sounded panicked, and it pulled you right back to the moment at hand. He never sounded panicked. "Do you have eyes?! I can't see them! The kid! He's-"

Looking up at Boba, you gestured down the ramp. "I have to-"

He didn’t even let you finish, gesturing you down the ramp with a nod of his head. "Go."

As you ran toward the beam of light protecting the kid, you’d never felt like the world had moved more slowly. You were moving as fast as you could, practically floating above the ground, defying the laws of physics as you pleaded with the Force to give you the boost needed to make it in time. Please. They were your family. Not like this.

It was a loop in your head as you closed in on the mountaintop, not even out of breath.

Please, not like this.

But for all your physical speed, the world around you seemed to move by in sluggish streaks of blurry colors. Nothing was in focus except the ridge you were trying to reach. Nothing else mattered except for that ridge. More specifically, what was on it. As your jaw set in determination, you leaned into your sprint, pushing even harder to reach the top as soon as possible.

You faintly registered another ship coming in to land by the other, the sounds of blaster fire picking back up again down below as you crested the top, finally seeing Din and the child for the first time in what felt like hours. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Din was laying on the ground, so you helped him to his feet.

“What’s going on? Did you fall?” A cursory glance from head to toe didn’t show any major injuries or cause for alarm, but then again, the beskar would probably hide most things. You reached out to rest your hand on his upper arm, but he didn’t even look at you.

He turned to face Grogu, completely ignoring your question. “That’s it, kid. We got to get out of here!”

Din began trying to push through the barrier again, grunting and struggling as he ignored your protests.

“Stop it! Din, no, it’s not- You’re just going to-”

He bounced back like he’d been launched, shaking his hands almost as if he’d been burned or shocked.

“It’s not going to work,” you finally concluded, unable to help your grin as he rolled his head to glare at you before looking off the edge of the mountain to the ships down below, pressing something on the side of his helmet.

Turning back to Grogu, he huffed. “Okay, I’m gonna protect you.” He said it like it was his choice, like there were other options, and a wall of Force energy wasn’t dictating this whole situation for him. You had to look away so he wouldn’t see your smile. “Just stay there. I’ll be back soon.”

Following where he had been looking down the edge of the rocky terrain, you saw Fennec begin to take more heavy fire. “Din, go help her! They offered to help keep the kid safe, and if we get out of here, we’re going to need that help. Now go!”

He nodded. “Stay with him. Please?”

You couldn’t help the small smile. “Where else would I be?”

Din nodded again, a short, relieved sigh letting his shoulders relax slightly. “Keep your comm on.”

You nodded in confirmation before gesturing him down the mountainside. Once he was gone, you turned to look at Grogu. The Force wall evaporated, leaving the kid in a dazed state as he blinked drowsy eyes and breathed heavily, falling to the side to curl into a little ball, instantly asleep.

Opting to leave him be, since you didn’t really understand giant seeing stones and their way of doing things, you kept watch at the edge, eyes watching down below and ears tuned in to the child behind you.

Din and Fennec fought back to back until an explosion rocked the earth near them, sending troopers flying. Not again, you thought. You began to look around for a rock you could launch down the hillside without tiring yourself out too much, when you noticed a flash of green armor, and you grinned.

When Boba sent rockets flying out of a piece on his knee, you picked up your comm. “I finally found something your armor doesn’t do.”

Din grumbled in response, making your smile grow.

The troopers began to run away after just a few well placed attacks from Boba, and your grin turned into a smug smirk when you saw him twirl his gun like Din had on Corvus.

Your comm crackled before Din’s voice came back over. “At least he can do that properly.”

This time you grumbled.

As the ships took off with all the troopers piled back in them, you made a last second decision after looking at a sleeping Grogu once more. He’d wake up starving. Now that the coast was clear, you were just going to grab a ration pack and hurry back up to be there when he woke up.

Jogging down the hill, you were quick to dash up the ramp of the Crest, grabbing a ration pack before turning to head back up. You paused when your comm went off.

"Mesh'la?"

The connection was staticky, and you could barely make out his one word as you began to walk forward again. "On the ship. I'II be out in a second…. Just had to get the-"

The comms went out with a wave of static, making Din turn to look at the Crest, pressing the button for his comm on the side of his helmet once, twice, but nothing worked.

"Mesh'la?" He tried quietly, knowing you couldn't hear. Before he could push it a third time, a laser bolt shot down from the sky, streaking toward the Crest faster than he could comprehend. "Mesh'la!"

Xxx

Din POV

Everything moved in slow motion, the path of the bolt streaking through the sky something he wanted to look away from but didn't dare to even blink.

Before he could take even two steps closer to his ship, the bolt hit its mark, exploding in a cloud of flames and debris.

The glow illuminated the sky behind the Crest, casting the ship in an eerie glow, the ping of rocks landing on the roof of the ship like rain music to his ears.

He was moving before he had even fully processed what had happened. All he knew was you were somewhere over there, somewhere near the danger, somewhere that was supposed to be safe.

No matter what happened, how he tried, the people in his life seemed to pay for being a part of it. First his parents, then countless others he’d tuned out over the years, telling himself it was easier if he just didn’t have people in his life in the first place. And that was true. It was so much easier not worrying about the kid. Not worrying about you. If both of you were safe. Warm. Fed. Happy.

But it was also so much emptier.

That was a life he wasn’t willing to go back to. Not now. Not after so many months of days filled with…. Just filled. Even in moments of silence, of nothing, of sleep, it was so much more, so much better than anything before. And he wasn’t willing to go back. Not if he couldn’t go back to you.

He slid on his knees on the grass the last few feet to where you laid on the ground at the bottom of the ramp, the wind knocked out of you. You moaned softly, trying to push up onto your elbows. Din maneuvered so he was behind you, letting you lean on him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think so?” You grimaced. “What happened?”

“They shot the tracker. Why were you on the ship?”

“I came down for a ration pack for the kid, he’s gonna be wiped out after-” Your eyes went wide and you snapped them up to look at his visor straight on. “The kid!”

Xxx

Normal POV

Once again running faster than you thought you ever could, you leapt across the tops of the stones on the mountainside like they were stairs, charging ahead of the others. Landing on the top, you skidded on the dusty stone before closing the last few steps to the seeing stone, turning to put your back to Grogu, your saber already drawn and ignited, ready.

Above you, four black humanoid shapes came into view, coming straight for the kid. They landed in a circle around him, and you realized they were droids.

“Hey, grease breath, think again,” you said firmly, pulling back to swing your saber, but the one closest to you grabbed your wrist, jerking you to the side and off balance, making you stumble. Your saber slipped from your hand, skittering away from you as the droid flung you the opposite direction.

You tried to reach out with the Force and stop them, but the world started spinning, the explosion and your exertion finally catching up with you, and all you could do was watch with your hand reaching toward him as Grogu sat up wide eyed. He looked at you, a wave of calm washing over you like a breath of fresh air, and it took everything in you not to cry. Even in moments where he was in danger, he was trying to help you not be scared.

Everything blurred through unshed tears as the droid snatched him, all four taking back off into the sky just as Din and Fennec crested the top of the mountain.

“They’ve got the baby,” Fennec said into a comm, and you smiled. At least now she was calling him a baby. “Don’t let them get away!”

“Stop him. I don’t want the child hurt.” Din’s voice was deceiving my calm, but you knew better. This day was catching up with him fast. If you felt like this, you could only imagine how he felt. It was just him and the kid before you even came into the picture. If anything were ever to get to a Din, this would be it.

After that you let yourself collapse back on the ground, exhaustion catching up with you. With your eyes closed you weren’t sure, but you heard footsteps come closer to you, and you assumed it was Din. The soft groan he let out as he knelt beside you confirmed it, and in better circumstances, you’d smile, make a joke about it.

But these aren’t better circumstances.

The kid is gone.

Grogu is gone.

Opening your eyes as Din helped maneuver you into a seated position like down by the ramp, you put your hand on his wrist, stopping his movements. “I’m sorry.” You could only just barely whisper.

“What?”

Looking up to hold his gaze, you felt the tears finally fall. “I’m so sorry, Di- Mando.” Your eyes flitted over to Fennec briefly, confirming she was close enough to hear, but she was trying hard not to, looking down at the ground as she stood patiently to the side.

“Hey,” Din pulled your attention back to him. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was.” Your voice quivered without your permission. Swallowing in an attempt to clear it away, your eyes darted over every inch of his visor, searching for something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “If I had just stayed up here, not gone for the stupid snack-” Shutting your eyes tight, you saw Grogu even in the darkness, his wide eyes staring at you as he offered you that last wave of peace, and a fresh wave of grief replaced all the good.

Din didn’t let you finish the thought. “He would have wanted that-”

You didn’t let him comfort you, either. Eyes flying open, you stared at him with brows raised incredulously. “-or let them knock my saber out of my hand-”

He really wasn’t going to let you win. “You’d just been in an explosion-”

“Stop trying to make this okay!” You yelled, eyes screwed shut. Then, quieter, “It’s not okay.”

“It’s also not your fault.” Din matched your quiet tone, his voice calm and collected, and you didn’t know how.

You opened your eyes to glare at him. “It’s not yours.”

“Nope.” Knitting your eyebrows, you tilted your head at him. He eased back on his haunches with a soft groan, moving you gently into a more comfortable position. “I blame Gideon.”

You rolled your eyes before huffing out a laugh. “Well, duh.”

Laughing softly, you closed your eyes again when his forehead came to rest softly against yours. The kid still appeared with every blink, but it was quickly becoming comforting again instead of the heavy weight still on your chest. You’d make this right. Not for yourself, but for Grogu who deserved everything good and kind in this galaxy. And for Din, who deserved everything…. Just everything. You’d make this right for them.

“Whatever ends up happening with the kid, will be because of you, mesh’la,” Din echoed your words to him from back on the ship earlier today. “You’ve fed him, you’ve taken care of him, he’s learned from you. Already. No matter how powerful.” Silent tears raced down your cheeks as he continued to repeat what you’d said. “He’s going to be okay. And it will all be because of you. It all comes back to you.”

Xxx

Staring at the crater that almost was the Crest, smoke tendrils curling into the air, you crossed your arms over your chest as you surveyed the scene.

“It could have been so much worse.” Your voice was barely a mumble, your words barely legible. “They could have gotten the ship. If I hadn’t…. That tracker.” Breath caught in your chest, you tried to calm yourself with a deep, shuddering breath. “They could have gotten you.” Turning to face Din, your eyes wide, you swallowed roughly as you pushed that thought away. Clearing your throat, you found a strength to your voice somehow, small though it was. “I’m just glad you and the kid weren’t in there. I know…. I know he’s gone, and we’re gonna get him back, Din, don’t worry, but….” You shook your head as you looked back at the crater. “It could have been so much worse.”

Din gently dug into the little bag on his belt, your eyes following his almost hesitant movements. He sighed as he slowly pulled out the smallest red flower on a long thin stem. “He…. The kid.” He cleared his throat. “Grogu picked this at the top of the hill, and I think…. I think it was for you.”

Blinking a few times you stared at the small bud. “W-wha…” you cleared your own throat. “What makes you think that?”

“Whenever he’s picked up stuff for you before, the rocks and that beetle on Arvala-7…. He makes a certain noise, well a series of noises that I think is his way of saying your name. It’s always the same. He says it when you tuck him in at night, too.”

You stared at his visor, your voice small as you tried not to let the tears fall. “That’s what that babbling is?” You reached for the flower, taking it delicately with a small smile, your voice smaller still. “My name?” Twisting the fragile stem along your fingertips, you brought it up to smell it, the sweet scent making your lips turn down slightly as your thoughts turned back to the kid. “It’s never sounded more beautiful.”

You turned toward the Crest behind you, looking up at the ship that had seen better days in an attempt to hide your face, swiping blatantly at the tears silently tracking down your face with the palm of your hand.

The ship had not been damaged directly, but flying gravel had ricocheted, denting spots on the hull and causing a few panels to dangle, hanging on by a wire or a single bolt clinging for dear life.

“She just doesn’t want to give up the ghost, does she,” you mused quietly, a small smile turning up your features as you surveyed the tattered walls that had become your home.

Din loomed close behind you, just far enough to technically count as space. But close enough that when you took a deep, steadying breath, you felt a wall of beskar firmly press into your spine.

A soft huff of laughter left his modulator close to your ear as he too tilted his head back to take in the damage. “She hasn’t failed me yet.” His voice somehow got closer. “A lot like someone else I know.”

You smiled, a truly joyful thing, but it quickly melted into something morose, turning down rapidly as new tears raced down your cheeks to join the others. As you tilted your head down into your hands, you felt warm arms come around you from behind, the cold press of beskar against the thin layer of dirt and sweat on your skin doing something to ground you that you weren’t expecting.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into your hands. “I’m not like this. I don’t cry. This isn’t-” Lifting your head quickly, your hands coming to rest on his forearms that rested across your chest, you sniffed away the emotions as best you could when you felt the sharp edge of his helmet come to rest on your shoulder. The contrast of the warmth of his body heat under the flight suit where his chin settled in at the curve of your neck, and the cool touch of beskar once again doing something to distract you as his helmet came to rest against your temple with a sigh. “This isn’t me.”

“It’s okay if it is,” rumbled softly into your very bones.

“No.” You swiped at tears angrily again, keeping one hand on his arms before returning the other as well. “He needs me to be strong. You- I need me to be-”

“Mesh’la….”

A stuttering breath caught in your chest as you willed the emotions building again to just try and surface one more time. You dared them. “He’s gone, Din.” A deep breath. “He’s gone.”

Arms wound tighter around you, the press of beskar against your temple more firm, so much so you had to tilt your head to the side to accommodate the pressure. Suddenly you were being turned until your forehead was against his, your hands lost in his cowl as they clutched for a semblance of something familiar. Soft “I know”s and mumbled promises of returns and revenge never ceasing as strong armor clad arms pulled you tighter into himself, every hard line of beskar a welcome familiarity that helped ground you once again.

Sniffling pitifully, you tucked your face further into his cowl to hide. “I’ll be fine. Thank you. I….” Taking a few steadying breaths, you willed your nerves to still. They didn’t listen, but something in you did, and you found the strength to look up into his visor again. “Go talk to Boba and Shand. Figure out the plan. I’ll be over in a minute. Gonna….” Clearing your throat as you released your grip on his cowl, smoothing the fabric as you focused on it instead, you took another deep breath and continued. “Gonna evaluate the damage, see what we need to do to get out of here in one piece. I assume we’ll take her to Peli’s?” Drawing back, hands moving to your hips, you began to study the ship again, tucking the flower from Grogu into your belt. “I’ll make sure we can at least limp there.”

Din hesitated, weight shifting gently from side to side as he studied you.

“Go.” Motioning him on with a jut of your chin toward your new companions, you tried your best grin you could muster. “Just need time.”

He nodded, turning on his heel and walking around to the other side of the Crest, looking over his shoulder back your way only once.

You made it until he was just around the corner, but just barely. As soon as he was, you dropped. On your haunches, clutching your knees close to your chest, silent sobs wracked your body. You bit your hand when stronger ones threatened to take over.

You’d failed.

He was gone.

You weren’t enough.

Shut up!

Tears of sadness quickly turned to anger and the abruptness of it should have flagged something in the back of your mind, but it didn’t. Instead, you just let it roil, let it grow, as it was the only thing that seemed to make the tears stop. You’d always been told anger festered, but this just felt powerful. This felt like a strength you needed right now, and it was what brought you back to your feet, dried your tears, and brought your head back up high.

As you worked your way around the ship, one thought alone consumed your mind. Gideon was gonna pay.

Din was speaking as you came up to the group. “Then that armor belongs to you.” His voice was softer than it had been earlier, and had an undertone of respect. He glanced to the side to look at you, doing a double take, and you wondered why until you caught your reflection in his visor and saw the obvious evidence you’d been crying.

Quickly swiping at your cheek with the back of your glove, you shrugged at him as he tilted his head in question. “I’m fine.”

Boba blessedly circled back to the subject they had been on when you walked up, like he had before. “I appreciate its return.”

With a sigh, Din turned his focus back on the other Mandalorian. “Then our deal is complete.”

Boba heaved a matching sigh, and it almost made you smile. Maybe it was a Mandalorian trait after all. “Not quite.”

You arched your brow. “What do you mean?”

“We agreed in exchange for the return of my armor, we will ensure the safety of the child.”

Din turned his head just slightly to look at you before speaking quietly. “The child’s gone.”

Surprisingly you felt nothing but a twinge of sadness, and that was for Din. The overwhelming feeling that surged through you was anger, and normally it would have had you scrambling for some sort of control, but this time…. This time it only made you smile.

Boba mistook your grin for understanding of his plan and returned your grin before explaining to Din, “Until he is returned to you safely, we are in your debt.”

Din looked at Fennec, and when she nodded in confirmation, he turned toward you.

The words on the tip of your tongue beg to come out. Don’t look at me, I’m the reason he got taken. But you tamp that voice down, you know it’s not true. “Sounds like a plan,” you said instead, hands resting on your hips.

You turned back to survey the Crest once again as they made finer details to the plan, and you only vaguely registered something about following to Tatooine after some minor repairs.

Voices began to swell in your mind, whispers, trying to offer calming things and peace, but you pushed them away. Where were they when the kid was being taken? Shutting your eyes tight, you tried to ignore them, tamp them down, but they swelled even louder, causing the anger in your gut to grow suddenly.

“Mesh’la?”

The voices stopped abruptly for the first time since you’d started hearing them, almost like they’d been strangled, cut off, and you sighed happily.

“Mesh’la, you okay?” A gloved hand gently on your elbow pulled your attention back to the present, making your eyes go wide. These new feelings surrounding you were ones you’d tried to push away time and time again, but now…. Now they fed you, kept you standing under the weight of this massive burden. And that was something to analyze at another time.

“Never better.” You looked up into his visor with a small smile. “So where do we start to get the old girl back in the stars?”

Xxx

The cockpit was silent, aside from the soft whir of hyperspace and the beeps of various instruments.

Staring out the viewport from your seat, you startled when Din finally spoke. “I’m sorry we aren’t going somewhere with fireflies like we had planned.”

You pulled your attention over to where he sat in the captain's seat, finding him staring at Grogu’s empty copilot’s chair. Letting your eyes fall to the empty seat yourself, a single tear racing down your cheek, you smiled fondly. “It’s okay. We’ll make it there eventually.” More silence filled the space until you continued even more quietly. “I’d rather go when the kid can see them, too, anyway. Who knows? Maybe he’d eat some, no matter how hard we tried to keep him from doing so, and he would start to glow.”

A soft chuckle passed the vocoder before his head hung at a broken angle, still staring at the chair as a distinct sniff sounded. He shook his head gently before his chin fell to his chest, his shoulders shaking in silent tears.

“Din….” You were about to unclick your safety belt and go to him when the alarm alerting that the ship was about to drop out of hyperspace sounded.

It was like a switch flipped. He sat up straight. His shoulders rolled back, his head lifted high, and his breathing evened out as he spun around to start taking over the controls necessary as the view through the transparisteel faded from the swirl of hyperspace to the dotted maze of space. The only sign something was wrong was the one deep shuddering breath he took before he cleared his throat, a wet, affected sound, before he finally spoke to you again. “We’re here.”

Xxx

When the ramp dropped down to the dusty earth of hangar 3-5, the prattle of pit droids immediately started in.

You took one step down toward the wave of heat washing over you when you were stopped with a hand around your wrist. Turning, you came face to visor with Din. Arching your brow in question, you waited for him to explain, finally asking an exasperated but quiet, “What?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Shaking your head, eyes closed as you scoffed lightly, you began to turn back toward the ramp again. “Din-” But his grip pulled you to a stop again, making your eyes fly open and look down at his hand around yours.

“Stop.” There were so many layers to his single word. You knew he didn’t just mean trying to go down the ramp. He meant blaming yourself. He meant whatever was simmering under your skin since Tython. He meant a multitude of things. Stepping up closer to you, Din tilted his head down to keep his gaze on you, his voice going lower still, almost as broken as you felt. “Just stop.”

Your eyes refused to stay open at that point, fighting back a wave of emotions threatening to make themselves known through tears. Your lower lip trembled in its effort to seal the feelings in, broken things wanting to tumble from you in strings of illegible sentences. “I-”

“No.” He crowded you back against the wall, once again pressing into you, less in an effort to ground you, but more for his benefit this time, his hands cradling the sides of your neck and winding into your hair as he tilted your head back to look into his visor as he went on. “This is his fault. Gideon did this. And he’s the one we’re going after. The kid is smart, he knows it wasn’t- hey, open your eyes.”

Looking up at him through a new swirl of tears, you cursed the swell of emotions and steeled yourself to make it through this conversation.

“There she is,” he said around a smile, his thumb coming to wipe away a stray tear off the apple of your cheek, your brows furrowing at the sensation. His gloves were off.

“When did you-”

He pushed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp started to close, making you do a double take, one of the pit droids squealing as it scrambled to get out of the way.

“What? Din, we need to-”

As the ramp sealed, he pushed another button, setting the interior of the ship into total darkness.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, your stomach doing something stupid as you tried to get your brain to catch up with the rest of your body that apparently knew what was happening already.

After the hiss of his helmet disengaging ended, and a soft thump sounded beside you on the floor, you took a sharp breath in when you felt bare skin come to rest on your forehead. Hairs that stuck out much too long at the sides and the front, long overdue for a trim, tickled your eyelids. A warm breath fanned across your face as he took quick breaths in and out, seemingly lost in the surrealness of the moment like you.

When his fingers found their way back to the sides of your neck, winding their way into your hair once again, you couldn’t help the soft groan you let out, or the renewed one when the puff of air from his chuckle danced across your face.

Din hinged your head back to look up at him once again, even though in the total darkness you could only see the phantom of your imagination.

“Come back to me,” he mumbled, forehead still firmly against yours, his words painting warm breaths across your skin a convincing argument.

“I’m right here.” Your hands snaked up each of his arms, wrapping loosely around his wrists as his fingers slid further into your hair.

He huffed gently. “No, you’re a million miles away.”

“You don’t-”

“Don’t say I don’t understand,” he growled lowly. “Get that out of your head.” After a few shallow breaths, he sighed. “I lost him, too.”

“I was right there, Din-”

“So was I.”

“I left him alone.”

He stepped closer into you, your spine sealing along the wall. “So did I.”

“No, you left him with me.”

Din took a breath like he was going to say something, but stopped short, letting it out on a sigh. “We were both standing right there when he was taken, mesh’la. Those droids would have gotten him regardless. Gideon has been watching us and tracking us, he hasn’t been playing fair.”

“Right. He’s been tracking the ship. You know what else?”

“Mesh’la….” He warned.

“Me. He’s been tracking me. Because of that bounty.” Your hands were in his cowl and you went to push him away but as soon as you started to, you pulled him closer still. Crumbling into the material, your face began to fall, but he pushed it back with his thumbs on your cheeks. “Don’t you see? No matter how you look at this, it all comes back to me.”

A long moment passed before Din spoke softly. “If that’s the case, then it all really started with me.” You blinked up at him, despite not being able to see him. “You have the bounty because of me. He is on the run because of me. Gideon is pissed because of me. It all comes back to me.”

“Din, no. No, you can’t think like that. It’s not-”

“But you can?”

Your mouth snapped shut, hands moving from his wrists to around his neck and into his hair. “You’re so infuriating, you know that?”

His soft huff of laughter painted your skin in warm shades of joy, comfort tinging the entire scene at the seams.

When you speak again, your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, and much breathier than you had intended. “Why’d you take your gloves off?”

Din’s thumbs traced over your cheeks once again, drawing lazy circles as you felt his lips turn up into a smile where he had tucked his face near your temple. “Needed to feel you. Know you’re here.” He let out a long breath into your hair before mumbling, “I think you needed it, too.”

“And your helmet?”

His face pulled away from yours, soon coming back in the form of his forehead on yours, as his words ghosted over your lips. “That? Now that was just for me.”

“Oh really?” You smirked.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed, and you could feel his face scrunching up as he grinned once again, all of his features a mere breath away from yours.

“What exactly did you want to get out of it?” You teased, tugging on his cowl.

“Well-” he began, but was cut off by a rhythmic tapping on the hull of the Crest.

A faint, “Mando?” pierced through the darkness, Peli’s voice cutting through the moment like a bantha in a china shop.

Din let out a heavy sigh against your face, groaning in annoyance, chuckling when you couldn’t contain a giggle. “Someday,” he promised.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you teased with a tug on his cowl with one hand before pushing him away.

He groaned as he knelt down to pick up his helmet, letting it seal with a hiss before he turned the lights back on, and lowering the ramp once again. He took a single step down the ramp before stopping when you grabbed his wrist. Continuing down until you wove your fingers with his, you pulled him forward to walk down the ramp with you, hand in hand. Looking over your shoulder with a smile, you mumbled a quiet, “Someday,” only for him.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite little family!” Peli singsonged, arms held out in welcome. Her expression fell slightly after a moment. “Where’s bright eyes?”

The sound of a second ship coming in to land in the hangar pulled your attention upwards, Peli’s immediate confusion and irritation moving her over toward Boba’s ship touching down a few yards away. “I’m sorry. This is a private hangar. You’re going to have to-”

“Peli.” She turned to you, brows raised in question. “They’re with us.”

“What?” Her voice had gone squeaky in confusion.

Not letting go of Din’s hand, you held out your free hand toward her, gesturing her over as Boba and Fennec came down the ramp of his ship. “Come sit with me for a minute.”

“What’s going on?” She walked over quickly. “You’re scaring me.”

Sitting at an overcrowded table covered in parts from at least seven different types of ships, you set Din’s hand on your shoulder as he stood close behind you, reaching both of your hands across the table to take Peli’s hand in yours. “I’m going to tell you something and I need you to keep calm for me.”

She nodded. “I can do that.”

Din squeezed your shoulder. “The kid was kidnapped.”

“What?!” She tried to get to her feet but was yanked back down when you wouldn’t release her hand and she had to sit back down, staring at you with wide eyes.

“It’s okay! We’re gonna get him back.”

“Of course you are!” She said firmly, nodding. “When do we leave?”

You smiled at your friend, tears coming for a whole new reason this time. “No, Peli. We need you to stay here.”

“Like kriff! I can’t shoot hardly worth a damn, and I don’t really know how in the bantha diddle I’m going to help, but dank farrik, we have to get the kid.”

All you could do was blink at her. If you did anything it would be in amusement at her fierce use of bantha diddle.

Din finally came to the rescue. “The person who took him put a tracker on the Crest.” Her eyes flamed as they darted to the ship, and you truly feared for Gideon in that moment. “I need to store it here until this is resolved, keep it off the radar. If she hadn’t seen the tracker and taken it off, the ship would be a pile of debris right now.” Din tilted his head toward you, and Peli turned owlish eyes on you that turned soft in understanding. “Can you sweep it for any more trackers, and house it until-”

“Done.” She held up her free hand, waving off the topic, it was already decided in her mind.

“She also needs a once over. The debris of the explosion did a number-”

“Already being taken care of.” She tilted her head toward her pit droids already well into repairs on the hull of the ship.

As you stared at the large gunship that had become like a home for your little clan of three, you smiled sadly, your voice barely a thing to be heard. “It’s lonely on the Crest without the kid.” Turning to look up at Din to your left, your smile, though still sad, grew just a little. “There's just so many ration packs without him here." The gentle shake of the Mandalorian’s head was encouragement enough to go on. "I miss going to the markets every hour of the day to top up.” Looking back at the ship, you chuckled sadly. “He’d eat a whole bantha if you let him.”

Peli’s hand flipped in your grip, squeezing your hand. “We’ll get the little womp rat back, don’t worry. Mando’s on it.” She did a double take when she saw Boba over your shoulder. “Apparently two Mando’s are on it.” Boba took his helmet off and Peli’s eyes went wide, darting between Din and the new Mandalorian several times before landing on you. “I think my brain just exploded.”

Xxx

As Din picked a few select things to take with him from the Crest, you fiddled with your vambraces, sitting on a crate a few feet behind him.

“So you sent a message?”

He nodded, pulling the beskar spear from the weapons locker and twirling it once with a flourish before attaching it at his back somehow.

Studying him with narrowed eyes to try and understand how, he turned to face you, pushing a button on his vambrace to close the locker.

“Not taking the Amban?”

He shook his head.

“Don’t think you’ll run into any Jawas?”

He grunted in annoyance.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you mused softly, watching him as you buffed your left vambrace with a cloth in your right hand.

“Just thinking,” he hummed.

“About?” You asked after he didn’t go on.

“What to do if Cara won’t help us get Mayfeld out of prison. If Mayfeld won’t flip and help us. If the plan goes, well…. According to plan,” you groaned, “but then we find Gideon and then something goes wrong. If the kid is…. Is already….”

Getting to your feet, cloth and vambraces forgotten, you closed the distance between you, your hand instantly cupping the side of his helmet in your palm to keep his visor on you. “He’s fine, Din.”

“You don’t know. Gideon could have-”

“No. I know, Din. I can feel him. We’re connected, remember?” He let out a short bewildered huff of air. “He’s alright. More than alright. I keep getting surges of….” You smiled, eyes studying the wall behind Din for a moment before coming back to the T of his visor. “Trouble.”

“Then he’s not fine. What do you-”

“No, not that he’s in trouble. He’s causing it.”

Din snorted. “Trouble, huh?” Something proud and smug in his voice.

You nodded. “Along with glee and…. Mischief.” Your face fell into your palm as Din chuckled. “It’ll be a miracle if we get there and the ship isn’t a total wreck floating through space.”

“That would make our jobs much easier,” Din mused quietly, laughter painting his words.

“I’d much prefer Gideon alive.”

Din tilted his head at you in question. “Why?”

Making your way down the ramp, you didn’t bother turning around as you answered, “I have a few things I need to say to his face.”

Xxx

Tags to come!

133 notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 3 months ago

Note

LMAOOO nah dw abt embarrassing me it must be done….Id rather you see it than have me send it to someone who doesn’t match my freak and have them think im insane

Omg Karasu in the lead?? Guys…….Mira you’ve fr cultivated Karasu nation LMAOO but no you’re so right I remember seeing a poll awhile ago from someone and ofc there were the fan faves like Nagi Reo Kaiser as options and I was shocked to see Karasu there?? Ofc he was dead last in the results but not unexpected ig….also BAROU THIRD GUYS!!!! Barouism rising too??

No seriously Isagi would be sooo cooked if Nagi wasn’t there….trust I know that Nagi goal in u20 is gonna make him skyrocket I’m imagining all the edits to it now LMAO

It’s just the miraverse of content….new genre it’s called “would Mira watch this?” The parallels do go hard though I wasn’t expecting to find so many LOL

HAAHA SHIDOU lowk that’d be really funny….imagine like a 200k wc fic of Shidou shenanigans and sus quotes

Maybe I’ve been too desensitized because when you said too extreme I was expecting a lot more violence LMAO you got the perfect amount though I think when you said extreme I was thinking of Shidou level oops

NO FR?? Like he’s not gonna ever take the top spot but lowk I’ve grown to appreciate him….youre so right though LOLL closeted sweetheart >>> closeted asshole bro wait the grape candy scene was so cute I forgot to mention….its so funny how he kinda just gives it to her without saying anything about it like how people would do secret deals or something but no it’s just grape candy LMAOOO

THREE bro….the aura is crazy…to the dude who wanted your insta you should’ve been like “if you buy me a $50 cupcake I’ll give it to you” /j lowk investing in a bodyguard does not sound like a bad idea tho

OOOOOOH very excited for everything….also the whole masterlist layout for the oaeu>>>>>>>> the visuals look so CLEAN omg but guys look it’s aiku on Mira’s blog!!!! I saw the poll and have not touched it like wdym I’m supposed to choose???? Let’s see if I can be decisive for once but just know I was debating between tabieitaken and barou….speaking of im kinda curious to see which idea of mine will spark inspiration first LMAO take ur time tho im being so well fed with everything in the lineup so far

Im also laughing missing the cutoff is so funny to me because (unless I didn’t read something) it’s like if you didn’t safely get something in before the impending arrival of aiku you’re in for the long ride LMAOOOO

Ok actually real time update I just put them into a random generator to pick and voted LOL because there’s no way I’m deciding in time but I needed to show some opinion somehow….ok but anyways the main point I came back for was why is Nagi tied with your vote tracking option LMFAOOOOO I’m ngl I’ve never set up a poll here what’s the purpose of that…I just know that people aren’t supposed to pick it but I’m crying why does it have more votes than otoya and yuki

- Karasu anon

HAHA okay that is fair i will def keep you posted on any future typos 🤩 honestly they add to the experience though i mean what is a translator without occasional goofs (/j but also as someone who read a 1.5 million word novel translated online from korean #orv i am very used to wading through odd phrasing to get to the heart of a story so ngl sometimes my mind just skips over typos entirely and i don’t even notice)

unfortunately karasu nation has fallen…he’s in second now (w barou as a very close third) because SAE ITOSHI has a healthy lead 😭 honestly it was expected that man just has too many fans 😓 and most of the other characters on there aren’t AS popular (i’m sure there would’ve been more of a split if rin kaiser or isagi were included but honestly none of them were screaming oaeu to me…sae is kinda in the same category as them for me but he had strong oaeu potential hence why he’s included despite not being a miraverse all star like nagi karasu and barou)

I AM SOOO HYPE FOR THE EDITS PLSSS karasu and otoya edits from third selection?? nagi edits from the u20 game?? BAROU EDITS FROM THE U20 GAME 🤤⁉️ AHHH it’s going to be so good i just know those editors are going to cook up so many delicious concepts i’m actually hype (barely one more month we’re so close!!) and LMAOO no literally iirc nagi scored like four of the five goals against barou and naruhaya or something like if he hadn’t done that isagi would’ve had the naruhaya treatment and been out for good 😭 tik tok fans forgetting who the og goat of bllk was 😢 okay but honestly that’s why i love having nagi AND barou as my favs because one or the other is always up!! truly no losing there (and bllk bros automatically respect anyone who loves barou because most of them are barou glazers as if barou is ANYTHING like them 😒)

i guess part of it is also probably just kaneshiro using typical character archetypes too?? like girly dude white haired dude flirty dude etc etc the nagi dragon art was insane work though like what was the reason for that except to cater to us specifically

nah because yk i’d cook even for shidou 😭 but he would not be my first choice (or my second, or third, so on and so forth) HAHA he’s just a bit too chaotic plus like we’ve mentioned i don’t really find him too attractive even though ik some people do?? LMAOO omg idt i could ever write a character as violent as him especially not kiyora…like he’s chill for the most part just not hesitant to punch someone if needed i guess is how i interpreted it?? whereas shidou would just do it for funsies

I HAD FUN WRITING THE GRAPE CANDY SCENE IT JUST FELT SO HIM like the way he gives her a piece after she successfully swallows a pill as if she’s a dog or smth it’s just so innocent 😭 meanwhile reader is like “wow our tongues will match 😏” FBXJFKDS and him writing his number on the empty box so he doesn’t have to throw it away OR actually give her his number in person for fear of rejection…kiyora my underrated goat fr 🥹

JFNFJDDJSJ PLSSS just drop a quick “erm have i known you since you were four years old?? yeah i didn’t THINK so!!” and move on…i fear writing has made my standards very high hence why i’ve never been in a relationship but you’ll never catch me settling fr 🥱 if they’re not like bfb karasu or peregrine nagi or white butterfly hiori I DON’T WANT THEM 🤣 or ig someone like seabird sae would work too HAHA i’ll sacrifice the pining for a man w money and a sense of humor 🤩

OMG YAYYY I’M GLAD YOU LIKE IT i was inspired by those dollar store self help books as well as rom com movie covers when i was making it and i think it turned out well!! and then i saw one of the graphics accounts i follow had posted the green and purple hearts divider and i was like holy shit this is PERFECT it matches so so well w his entire aesthetic…also peep oliver and aiku being diff colors like his heterchromia 😮 LMAOO genuinely this is probably aiku’s first appearance on my blog (besides his cameo in the last part of fwtkac) but ahhh i’m trying to figure out which req to do next myself!! i have a few to choose from so there’s def a bit of variety…i’m thinking of your requests i’ll probably do chigiri?? because barou is part of the oaeu and idk if i feel connected enough to bachira to write for him yet 🙂‍↕️

NFJDBXSNK no because that’s literally what it is…after the gagamaru req my inbox was pretty stagnant in terms of new reqs so i was like ok let me just get these ones cleared out and then i’ll go back to posting my own things again as well 😭 literally the two hiori requests are from my 500 follower event so from back in JUNE like i need to wrap these up and post them 😭 but idm making the newer ones wait like they can go on the crazy oaeu ride w all of us in the meantime 😩

OMG WHO DID YOU END UP VOTING FOR (unless you want to keep it a secret because if so i understand 🫡) also omg that annoys me sm like fr a pet peeve…basically no one can see the results of a poll until they vote but that includes the creator of the poll?? so if you don’t want to skew the results you just make another option so you can keep track of the poll while it’s still open 🤩 but i absolutely HATE when people pick that option like are you seriously that desperate to know the answer that you pick the option that literally says it’s only for me?? it doesn’t matter what you put people will vote on it but it’s so annoying ughhhh i can’t stop putting it because i’m nosy and like to know what’s going on with the poll in real time but it fr irritates me that people pick it like literally just choose a random option if it’s that deep 😒 i think part of what annoys me is like it so clearly says don’t pick it…and then people still pick it…like were you all dropped on the heads as children or smth…ANYWAYS sorry i feel like i’m so chill normally but there’s random things that genuinely make me crash out for no reason 😭 ALSO POOR YUKI AND OTOYA they’re still behind the FOR MIRA ONLY OPTION (me rn: 🤬😡) atp i’m not going to do polls anymore…like damn sorry i tried to get you all involved why are you being stupid and illiterate rn

actually tbh it’s not that deep idk why it enrages me sm 😰 but uhhh i fear it does for some reason

#answered asks

2 notes · View notes

tippedbykreider · 2 years ago

Text

something just like this - epilogue 2 l c. parayko

Thank you to the ever wonderful @antoineroussel for arranging the Winter Fic Exchange 2023 <3

I was given the lovely @senditcolton as my giftee - Colt and Cassie are back and they're bringing the tinsel!

Big thanks to @laurenairay for giving it a read through for me as I'm severely out of practice. I would also like to apologise to any native Greek or Italian speakers, as I am neither and I'm having to rely on good old Google, which I appreciate doesn't quite capture the nuances of the native language. This has also been very loosely proofread so if you see any typos, you didn't :)

Warnings: alcohol mention, proposal

Word count: 5.3k

If you're new to Colton and Cassie, you can check out the first installment of this series here

Cassandra Constantinou had gone home to New York for Christmas for as long as she had lived away from the city. Every year she would pack herself a small bag and brave the hustle and bustle of St Louis Lambert International to make the short plane journey home to Brooklyn. Even after meeting the love of her life in the form of a 6 foot 6, Canadian, golden retriever of a man named Colton, Cassie would still head home for Christmas and be back in St Louis for New Year. Colton didn’t mind, of course, as his schedule had always been less than favourable and he would never begrudge Cassie the opportunity to be with her family; but he would’ve been lying if he said that he’d never thought about what it would be like to wake up beside her on Christmas morning - although he supposed it would be like any other morning, except with added tinsel.

This year, though, things were going to be a little different and Colton Parayko couldn’t have been happier about it.

It was pure luck, really, the way things came about. A fortuitous bounce with scheduling meant that the Blues would be playing at home between Christmas and New Year and Colton couldn’t help but take advantage of the opportunity in front of him.

It had started out as a completely innocent suggestion one late-October evening as the two of them shared a bath together. The wine had been flowing, as it so often did when he had some time off the next day, and conversation had steered towards the upcoming holiday season. Cassandra had already made sure her annual leave was in place to ensure she had the maximum amount of time with Colton, all that was left to do was break the news to her family that she would be spending Christmas in St Louis.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Colton murmured against Cassie’s shoulder.

“Sounds ominous,” she replied with a grin.

“Your parents could come here for Christmas.”

Cassie immediately shifted to look Colton in the face.

“Here? In St Louis?”

“I mean, that is where we live, yeah,” he teased.

“I thought you said you wanted a quiet Christmas?”

“I did”

“Inviting my parents to stay would be the complete opposite of a quiet Christmas,” Cassie countered. “You might even say that it would be a very, very loud Christmas.”

“You don’t think it would be fun?” he asked with a smile.

“I think it would make you reconsider our relationship.”

“Come on, Cass,” he reasoned. “It’s not like I’ve never met your parents before.”

“That was different,” Cassie contested. “We could escape to Manhattan and spend the day sightseeing when we were there in the summer. Besides, Christmas is a completely different beast. It’s like they go full Gremlin over the holidays. It’s complete insanity.”

“I think it’d be nice,” Colton shrugged. “They could bring your nonna.”

Cassie took a long, drawn out sip of her wine and Colton could almost see the cogs turning as Cassie relived every single Christmas she’d ever spent with her family. It’s not as if Colton was suggesting the entire Gamberini clan make the trip to Missouri, which would decrease the craziness factor by at least ten, but it would still be a far cry from the peaceful, relaxing Christmas she had been envisioning.

“Besides,” Colton added, pressing a soft kiss to Cassie’s shoulder blade. “Kind of wanna see what an Italian-Greek Christmas is like. I bet the food is amazing.”

Cassie shifted completely and turned to face Colton, setting her wine glass down on the side table and climbing into his lap.

“Your nutritionist will kill you,” she smirked, running her fingers through his shaggy hair.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Colton’s eyes were sparkling in the low light of the room and he was wearing his signature easy grin that Cassandra loved so much. It was effortless, then, to give in to his request and she couldn’t help her own smile that formed on her lips as she thought of her parents and her nonna sitting at their dining table laden with food and wine. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, though. Not yet, anyway.

“I’ll think about it,” she said as nonchalantly as she could manage.

“I’ll start looking for flights tomor-”

Colton’s words died on his tongue as Cassandra claimed his lips for her own and his thoughts were filled with nothing but how good it felt to have her body pressed into his.

There was only one other time that Colton had seen Cassandra completely morph into her mother and even then, it was something that he hadn’t realised had happened until he went to visit Giovanna and Hector during the summer. There was something about impending visitors that seemed to trigger Cassandra’s Gamberini genes and not a single cushion or candlestick could be out of place. The first time this had happened had been in early April, when Colton’s parents came into town and he’d come home from practice to find her half hanging out of the second floor window as she tried to clean the glass. The next day she had been up a ladder cleaning the ceiling light fixture in the entryway. Both of these things he’d seen Giovanna do during their summer visit and the resemblance between mother and daughter when it came to household cleanliness was startling, even down to the headscarves they would both wear, presumably to keep their dark hair out of their eyes as they worked.

When Colton arrived home with the groceries Cassie was in the middle of vacuuming. It had been three years since Cassie had come into Colton’s life like a complete force of nature and he still found himself being completely struck by just how beautiful she was, even during those everyday moments of mundane domesticity. He knew just how much of a cliche that was, of course, but as he watched her in a pair of leggings and one of his old university t-shirts that swamped her frame, with her chocolate hair piled high on top of her head and wrapped in one of those bright silken headscarves, he found that familiar feeling of warmth spreading through his chest like a shot of whisky on a cold day. She was singing to herself as she pushed the vacuum along the hardwood floor, Colton could tell by the movements of her mouth to the music the loud drone of the Dyson was competing with.

Cassandra felt Colton’s presence before she saw him, she always could. She didn’t care how insane it sounded but the house always seemed to feel different when he was around, like the walls themselves were alive and warm and breathing. She turned and caught him disappearing into the kitchen, his arms laden with grocery bags. She shut off the vacuum and followed him, turning down the stereo as she went.

“Hope it wasn’t too busy?” she asked as she began to put the groceries away.

Colton pressed a gentle kiss to her hair as he passed her on his way back out to the car.

“Nah, it was okay. I figured we’d go out and get the lamb for the Christmas dinner together though, if that’s okay? I had a look while I was out but honestly? I had no idea and it just… I don’t know, it’s important to your family and to your dad and I just wanna get it right.”

Cassandra’s whole expression softened at that, because even though this kind of thoughtfulness was something she’d come to expect from Colton, it always managed to knock her back a bit all the same. She took one of his large hands in both of hers as she looked up at him.

“Of course it’s okay, γλυκέ μου. We can go this afternoon if you like?”

“Is that not going to be too hectic for you with doing the airport run?”

“We should be fine, their flight doesn’t get in until 7:10.”

“Thank you,” Colton said sincerely, his eyes on Cassie’s.

“Hey, I should be thanking you,” she replied with a little shake of her head. “It means so much to me that this matters to you as much as it does and I really, really appreciate you and everything you’ve done today. I know it was a late one for you last night with travelling back from Winnipeg and all and you’ve been a huge help.”

“We’re a team,” Colton said matter of factly but with a gentle smile and a softness in his eyes as he surveyed Cassandra. “And you’ve completely blitzed this place. It looks beautiful, πουλάκι μου; the tree, the decorations, all of it.”

“I think I just need to set up the guest rooms and we’re about ready.”

“Leave the groceries to me then,” Colton pressed gently. “I’ll make sure everything gets put away.”

“You got everything on the list?”

“I did,” he assured her with a smile, holding up three fingers on his free hand. “Scout’s honour.”

His grin widened at the little laugh Cassie gave him as she let go of his hand.

“I’ve got it all under control here,” he continued. “Just let me know what you need me to finish off down here and I’ll make sure it’s done.”

“The floors need cleaning but I think that’s about it.”

“Mop the floors, got it,” Colton affirmed. “And once you’re done in the guest rooms I’m gonna run you a nice hot bath, yeah?”

Cassie smiled at that and she was certain that Colton Parayko may just be the most thoughtful man she’d ever met.

It was official: Cassandra and Colton’s fridge was fit to burst. How Colton had managed to squeeze everything in there, Cassandra would never know but she was sure that he must have been a world class Tetris champion in a previous life. The amount of food that was in their house was, frankly, obscene, even by Mediterranean standards and Cassie wasn’t sure there were enough hours in the day to actually cook it all. She made a mental note to ask Colton if any of the rookies were without a dinner on Christmas day, she’d be a meals on wheels service if it meant getting rid of it all.

Colton was cooking in the kitchen as Cassie tied the laces on her sneakers.

“It smells amazing, λατρεία μου,” she called out, pulling her coat on and wrapping a large scarf around her neck.

“That’s because it’s one of your recipes,” Colton laughed from the kitchen as he began seasoning the steak.

“I don’t cook steak as good as you though,” Cassie countered as she appeared in the doorway, a small grin playing on her lips. “You always season it perfectly.”

“But I season it exactly as you’ve written it down.”

“Must be all the love you put into it then,” she grinned, going up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You heading out to the airport?” he asked as he set the meat to one side to rest.

“Mhm.”

Colton washed his hands before turning to Cassie and wrapping his arms around her, his eyes soft as he surveyed her. She looked tired, he noted, the kind of tiredness a lot of people get in the run up to the holidays, but the stress that had started to make a home in her features in the weeks before she finished work for Christmas had melted away and that was something, at least. He was determined, then, to make sure that he gave her a Christmas to remember for all of the right reasons.

“Drive safe, yeah?” he murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head.

“Always do,” she replied with a smile. “I’ll call you when we’re on our way back.”

With a chaste kiss to her lips, Colton let Cassie go, walking with her to her car and waiting on the driveway until he saw her car turn out of the street and disappear from view.

Cassie shifted her weight from foot to foot as she waited at arrivals at St Louis Lambert International. Mercifully, the flight in from LaGuardia was on time and providing that the wait for the bags wasn’t too long, she’d clocked that she could be at home with a glass of red wine in hand within an hour. She watched with a smile as families were reunited for the holidays with shared embraces and happy tears, and in some strange way it had almost made her homesick for New York City. It had been the first time that Cassie had been on this side of arrivals when seeing her parents (it had always been her doing the travelling, after all) and she couldn’t quite work out if it felt wrong because she was missing going back to New York for Christmas or because it was simply a new experience. ‘Wrong’ was probably the wrong word for it, she thought, because Christmas with Colton felt good and right and like a dream, but it still wasn’t quite thirty people shoehorned around a hodgepodge of dinner tables (of varying heights) and chairs, gesticulating wildly and shouting over one another to be heard. Although Cassandra supposed that nothing really could ever come close to that experience.

She cast her mind back to the Christmas of 2006, the year her Baba’s family came over from Greece to celebrate the holidays. Her Nonno was still alive then and she found herself completely awestruck at how he seemed to come to an unspoken understanding with her Pappou, despite the two men not speaking each others’ languages and them both having limited mastery of English. The two men would often sit at the dining table, drinking coffee and playing cards, while occasionally making ‘universal grandpa sounds’. It was also the closest Cassie had seen her mother come to a nervous breakdown, but that was also to be expected when both Cassie’s Nonna and Yiayia were trying to assert dominance in the kitchen. There’s nothing quite as terrifying as two Mediterranean women trying to cook different types of food for Christmas in a small kitchen in an apartment in Brooklyn. She distinctly remembered that Christmas being the loudest yet and how both her parents uttered the words “never again” as they waved off her Yiayia and Pappou at the airport. Her Greek grandparents hadn’t been back to America since and while Cassie knew that a large part of that was due to them getting older and their health not quite being what it was, she also suspected that it had a lot to do with America not being Greek enough and the fact that it snowed near enough every day they were there.

She wondered what Colton’s Christmasses were like back home in Canada and if they had any traditions and immediately thought about how they might be able to incorporate those into their cross-continent celebrations. Cassie knew there was turkey involved, though, owing to the fact there was one lounging in her fridge back home. It would be the first time either her or her parents would be having turkey for Christmas, the meat of choice usually being veal or lamb, and Cassie wondered how her Nonna would take it.

As if on cue, Cassie’s eyes found the little frame of her beloved Gioia Gamberini, with her parents close behind. Cassie called out to her Nonna, whose eyesight wasn’t quite what it once was, as she seemed to scan the many faces at arrivals. A lump formed in her throat at the sight of her Nonna’s face breaking into the biggest smile as she finally laid her eyes on her beloved granddaughter.

“Cassandra!” she beamed. “Vieni qui. Lascia che ti guardi.”

Cassandra enveloped her Nonna into a hug, stooping to match the old woman’s height and staying there as her grandmother took Cassandra’s face in her hands.

“Ancora bello,” she smiled. “Sei raggiante di felicità. Ti sta ancora trattando bene?”

“Sta cucinando in casa mentre parliamo,” Cassie replied with a grin.

“Bravo ragazzo.”

“Fammi entrare. Smettila di tenere Cassandra per te,” Giovanna interrupted as she opened her arms for Cassie. “There’s my baby.”

Cassandra found herself being bundled into her mother’s arms, kisses being placed all over her face while her Nonna continued to tell her how beautiful she is. Giovanna eventually pulled back to survey her daughter with keen eyes.

“Let me look at you, make sure he’s feeding you right.”

“Mama-”

“Good, good. Still a little on the thin side but we’ll work on that,” Giovanna nodded.

“Can I please hug my daughter now?” Hector asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Cassandra ducked out of her mother’s embrace and stepped right into her father’s waiting arms.

“Cassandra, Λουλούδι μου.” He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “You look healthy, happy.” Hector’s eyes were shining as he looked at Cassie, “Was the drive here okay?”

“All painless,” Cassie assured him. “Traffic wasn’t too bad and Colt is cooking dinner as we speak so we’ll be able to eat when we get back and then we’ll give you the grand tour of the house.”

“Two house moves in as many years, Cassandra,” her mother replied as they waited for the luggage to come onto the carousel. “You must be crazy.”

“Thankfully I wasn’t in the old place long enough to accumulate clutter and Colton’s didn’t have much either. I don’t think we realised how little furniture we had until we moved into the new house. We definitely gave our bank accounts a hammering getting the new place furnished.”

“You should have said, Cassie,” he father scolded gently. “We could have given you some money towards furniture.”

“That’s really generous of you, Baba,” Cassie said, putting her arm around his shoulders. “But Colt and I had it covered.”

“We’re very proud of you, you know,” Hector replied. “All your hard work and now you’re seeing success. It makes my heart happy. All my life I hoped that you would have a wonderful life and that you would have all the things that I didn’t and now here you are.”

Cassandra swallowed the lump in her throat down and pressed a soft kiss to her father’s cheek.

“I couldn’t have done any of this without you and mom, you do know that, right?”

“Oh please,” Giovanna interjected. “You’ve worked damn hard for this, we just fed ya and clothed ya.”

“Well, I appreciate the feeding and clothing all the same,” Cassie laughed softly.

It took another 15 minutes for the bags to appear and further 15 to get everybody seated and settled in the car. Cassie had swapped her Mercedes coupe for a more practical SUV around 8 months prior and Hector quickly busied himself with testing out what all the different knobs and buttons did on the centre console. Cassie called Colton on the way home as promised and before long she was pulling the car into the driveway, the Christmas lights on their porch twinkling in welcome against the dark December night.

It was a little after 8am when Cassie stirred the next morning, head a little fuzzy from the bottle of red wine she’d had the night before. ‘Nonna’s doing,’ she thought to herself. ‘I never could say no to her’. She smiled as she thought back to dinner the night before; the little look of pride on Colton’s face as her father praised his steak, quickly replaced by one of boyish sheepishness when Nonna Gioia started to wax poetic about how handsome he was. Her mother had helped Colton clear the table and soon enough everyone had retired to the lounge to drink wine while Dean Martin played softly in the background just for Nonna.

Cassie cursed the empty bottle of Barolo in the kitchen as she dragged herself out of bed, the space where Colton slept already empty and cold.

‘He’s been up for a while, then,’ she thought.

She pulled on her robe as she exited the bedroom, the undeniable smell of eggs and bacon wafting up the stairs and along the hallway to greet her. She could hear her Nonna’s broken English, followed quickly by Colton’s rich laughter and she couldn’t stop the smile from tugging the corner of her lips upwards until it was a full grin.

“What mischief is going on in here, then?” she asked as she entered the kitchen.

“Nonna was telling me about how you used to run around her apartment naked, eating olives,” Colton grinned.

“I would like to clarify that I was three years old at the time,” Cassie countered, hiding her face as Colton laughed again.

“What’re you talking about? You still do that now.”

“Oh my god,” Cassie groaned. “Can you not?” She turned to her Nonna and pointed a finger at her, “Mi piace quest'uomo. Non spaventarlo.”

Nonna merely cackled and took another sip of her coffee, paying no heed to Cassandra in the slightest.

“Non c'è modo di spaventarlo,” Gioia shrugged. “Ti ama troppo.”

Gioia gave her granddaughter a knowing look before shuffling out of the kitchen to sit in the armchair in the orangery to watch the birds outside.

“She’s a riot,” Colton smiled as he continued preparing the eggs.

“She is,” Cassie agreed, pouring herself a coffee before refilling Colton’s mug. “No sign of my parents yet?”

“Your mom is reading her book in bed with her coffee and your dad went out for his morning walk. Think he wants to scope out the neighbourhood.”

“God, he’s so nosey,” Cassie huffed out a laugh. “You should have woke me up, I coulda helped with breakfast.”

“I tried,” Colton teased. “You were out cold, mouth open, snoring.”

“Liar.”

He simply laughed in response, cracking another egg into the pan as Cassie hopped up onto the counter beside him.

“I figured you could use the lie in.”

“That wine was like rocket fuel,” Cassie groused as she nursed her coffee mug. “Why aren’t you hungover anyway? You drank just as much as I did.”

“Faster metabolism, maybe?” he shrugged.

“Life is so unfair.”

“Go sit with your Nonna, I can handle it in here,” Colton said gently.

“You sure?”

“Positive,” he assured her. “Go catch up and talk about me in Italian.”

“Oh you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Cassie teased as she hopped down from the counter.

Colton gently grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his body, bending down to press a soft kiss to her lips. Cassie grabbed his tshirt gently with her free hand to deepen the kiss, giving him just enough before pulling away with a grin.

“Get outta here,” Colton laughed breathlessly, watching with a coy grin as Cassie sashayed out of the kitchen.

Once breakfast had been served and eaten, attention could turn to the most important order of business: the food. Christmas Eve had always been an important day for Cassandra and her family; it was the day where they would spend time together in the kitchen, making panettone and christopsomo, baklava and, of course, pasta. Colton was certain that he’d never seen so much food in all of his life and he knew that he was going to need to enlist the help of his teammates to eat it all. In fact, he reckoned that there was enough food prepared to do Christmas dinner three times over.

Giovanna had prepared a lasagne for dinner, which again was washed down with copious amounts of red wine and Colton watched with teary eyes as Cassie and her father sang traditional Greek carols in the living room once the dishes had been cleared away. It was easy then to get swept along in his thoughts about what he hoped his life would be like next year and the year after that and even in ten years’ time. One thing remained constant in these thoughts, though and that was the woman sat beside him, cheeks flushed from her red wine buzz and eyes sparkling even brighter than the lights on the tree. Colton wanted this with Cassandra for the rest of his life, he was sure of it and he couldn’t help but feel blessed that the most important people in her life, the people in that living room with them both, had accepted him into their family. It was big and bold and both the same and unlike his own in so many ways, but it was hers and it was perfect. She was perfect and as he pulled her into his side and pressed a kiss to her forehead, just as he’d done many times before, his mind wandered to the little box upstairs, hidden inside of a pair of socks in their dresser.

There was a certain stillness in the early morning that Colton had learned to appreciate over the years. Plenty of early rises during his hockey career meant that it didn’t have quite the same sting as it used to and he often used those moments of calm and quiet to prepare himself, both mentally and physically, for the day ahead. This morning was different though, he had nowhere to be and he almost cursed himself for waking up so early on Christmas day, like a child excited to see what Santa had brought. But then he paused and looked at Cassie’s sleeping form beside him in bed and he was thankful, thankful that he would get to spend those extra hours he would have been sleeping just appreciating what he had and the woman who looked so at peace. His eyes roamed the gentle contours of her body beneath the duvet until they settled on the chocolate locks that had half fallen into her face, her Mediterranean features set in a soft stillness that made his heart swell in his chest like a rising tide. She was beautiful to Colton, yes, but it was the kind of beauty that went beyond the surface. Cassandra Constantinou’s soul was beautiful too.

He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could muster and went to the dresser that stood opposite the end of the bed, opening his sock drawer and looking for the gaudy elf stockings socks that Cassie had bought him for Christmas two years prior. He rooted about at the bottom of the drawer until he pulled them out, unable to ignore the slight tremble in his hands as he did so. He unballed the socks, revealing a small velvet box, which he took before closing the drawer. He stood for a moment with it in his hands, so small within his large palm and yet weighted like a neutron star with promise, commitment and everlasting love. It hit him then, like a rogue wave and he found his eyes brimming with tears as he looked at Cassandra, still sound asleep in their bed. He wondered if she knew just how her gravity affected him, how she pulled him in so effortlessly and kept him there. He wondered if she knew just how much he loved and worshipped her, how proud she made him, and how much better his life was for her being in it. He hoped she knew all of that.

He took a deep, settling breath and walked towards Cassie’s side of the bed, kneeling beside it and using one of his hands to brush her hair out of her face while the other gripped the ring box tightly. His smile was soft as she stirred, her eyes finding his immediately as they opened.

“Merry Christmas, Cass,” he whispered, earning him a sleepy smile.

“Merry Christmas, Colt.”

Cassie smiled at the rhythmic feeling of Colton’s hand stroking her hair before furrowing her brow slightly.

“What time’s’it?” she asked.

“A little after 6,” Colton grinned as Cassie groaned.

“That’s so early,” she grumbled. “God you and your early riser bodyclock.”

“I promise it’s for a good reason,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” Cassie sat up in bed slightly. “And what’s that then?”

“Wanted to ask you something,” Colton replied, a nervous smile playing on his lips. Cassie only nodded and so Colton took a deep breath before speaking again. “Cass, you are literally the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You’re smart, kind, generous, so damn funny, God, you make me laugh every single day. I’ve never met anyone with as much spark and passion as you and it’s there in literally everything you do. You’ve taught me so much and I’m just… so thankful for you and grateful to have you in my life.”

“Colton,” Cassie sniffled.

“And I love your family. I love how they’ve made me feel so welcome and like I’m a part of it.”

“You are, Colt,” Cassie replied softly, a rogue tear escaping her eye and rolling down her cheek. “They love you.”

“And I love you, more than anything and…” Colton took another breath, holding out the small box to Cassandra for her to open it. “I want this with you for the rest of my life.”

Cassandra wasn’t sure at what point she’d stopped breathing, but all the air was knocked out of her lungs as she opened up the box to reveal a beautiful trilogy ring that seemed to sparkle even with barely any light in the room, as if it was starlight incarnate.

“Cassandra Giulia Constantinou, would you make me the happiest guy in the world and be my wife?”

Cassandra could only manage a nod as the tears streamed down her face, happiness washing over her like a river breaking loose from a dam. Colton’s arms were around her next, warm and safe and familiar as he sniffled against her hair, his lips planting flowers against her to crown her head.

“I love you,” he murmured into the chocolate strands of her hair. “I love you.”

Cassie pulled back a shade to get her eyes on his, both pairs shining with matching tears of joy.

“I love you too,” she whispered softly.

He took her left hand and slid the ring onto her finger, his eyes never leaving the expression of pure happiness that was etched onto her features, before cupping the back of her head and pulling her in for a deep kiss. Cassie’s hand came up to cup his cheek, bringing him closer still as she poured herself into the kiss, their tongues dancing together in the way that only they knew how. They parted only when their lips were swollen and their chests heaving, Colton resting his forehead against Cassandra’s as he held her.

“How long have you been planning this?” Cassie asked softly after a few moments.

“A while,” Colton admitted. “Although deciding to do it today was only a recent decision. Your dad and I did a lot of talking when you weren’t around.”

“You asked my Baba?” Cassie sniffled, the tears back once more.

“I really like and respect your dad and it’s only right that I ask for his permission to marry his only child and daughter.”

“God, you have no idea how much that will have meant to him,” Cassie choked as she fought to keep her tears at bay. “And to me.”

Colton kissed her forehead softly before helping her to her feet and putting her robe on her.

“Come on,” he said softly. “There’s some people who want to celebrate with us.”

He led her out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the top of the stairs, her mother, father and Nonna waiting for them at the bottom with the champagne already poured and not a dry eye between them.

“I thought you chicken out,” Nonna teased Colton with a grin.

“Chicken out of marrying this one? Never.”

Cassie looked up at Colton, smile brighter than the ring on her finger that glittered like sunlight on fresh snow, and cupped his face, pulling him in for a chaste kiss and murmuring against his lips.

“This has been the best Christmas ever.”

#my writing #colton parayko fic #nhl fic #nhl writing #nhl fanfic #something just like this #something just like this universe #colt and cass #colton and cassandra #winter fic exchange 2023 #the winter fic exchange 2k23

36 notes · View notes

thechaseofspades · 1 year ago

Note

3, 13, 27

3: Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

I tend to challenge myself with different concepts and styles with each project so it's hard to sum it up universally. I will say that I do loose outlines, so I always have an idea of where the characters are gonna go in the story. I'll split my stories into scenes or scene concepts, and have those as placeholder chapters for the time being. Once I actually write those scenes, the ongoing word count pretty much dictates whether or not I cut it off and start a new chapter. "Lena's Groundhog Day", for example, averages about 4500 words per chapter, and "Quack to the Future" hangs out in the 3-5k range. Basically, if a scene filled up a decent amount of space, then I call it a chapter and move right along. I won't, however, chop a scene up or bloat it to fit a certain runtime, hence the range.

Usually the story will start as a basic idea ("what if X but ducks"; "let's do a sequel to that one fic"; "I want to write Gosalyn"). I'll usually come up with a first chapter just to set the stage and see where we're at, and then bounce the idea around in my head for a while. I'll think it over on walks, I'll listen to music and imagine the characters, stuff like that. By the time I'm ready to write, I've usually settled on an ending scene, and come up with a couple other beats I want to hit in between. For example, for "Lena's Groundhog Day", I knew I wanted the diner scene with Webby and the ending scene(s) at the amphitheater. The rest came up as I wrote it, for better or for worse but mostly for better in my opinion.

13: What's a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

You know I actually had an odd time coming up with an answer here because I don't really seek out writing advice as much as I probably ought to. I've found that generalized advice isn't helpful for me, and also anything that suggests a change in routine is difficult to implement. Anyway, I'll think of something give me a second…. … … Hey I'm back. I didn't think of anything. The best I can do for you is always save your work because you never know when a bolt of lightning will strike your device specifically and uh oh there goes your progress.

27: What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

My least favorite part of writing is when I'm not writing. I mean when I'm stuck staring at a blinking cursor, can't think of where to go from here. Or I know where to go but not how to get there. Or I've just not written in a while and go "dang I miss doing that". Oh, and I also hate the part right before I publish where I go through like 50 times for spelling or grammar or typos because I have a fear of commitment (only to find mistakes months later when I'm just reading casually).

There are scenes and scene concepts that live rent free in my head before I write them. I'm talking imagining the characters having a back and forth, envisioning the action descriptions I'm gonna use, the works. If I had a thoughts-to-text ability, I'd have a whole collection written I'll tell you what. But I write my stories in order, so a lot of times (especially for endings) I can't just jump in and write those parts down. But when I do, man it's just really cool to see the thing I'd imagined for so long finally pop up in the document. It's crazy. Like I thinked all those words and then bam they're on the screen for anybody to look at. Indescribable. What a world.

Thanks for the ask!

#thanks for the ask!#ask game #writer ask

7 notes · View notes

rose-tinted-juls · 2 years ago

Text

DEAR LORD THIS IS INSANE I'M NOT OKAY RN pls don't talk to me for 3-5 business days until i recover from the absolute perfection this story is.

1. first of all i LOVE the school scenes, chris is so good with kids and i love it

2. AGAIN THE TINY DETAILS like the travel coffee mug being to big for the cup holder in her car and so it stays in-between her legs!!!! most writers would just be fine with writing that she brings her mug with her but not you, Mack, you actually make it super realistic. INSANE.

3. i love the texts bc they seem way too real especially with how i imagine charles texting exactly like this + THE TYPO!!! again the details!!!!

4. the way chris forces herself to stop smiling when she realises she's doing it while on the phone call with hannah! i'm gonna cry the story telling here is so incredible 😭

5. reid telling chris he's trying to focus LMAO + the way she just casually steals the gorilla cookie and eats it, that one paragraph is just one of my faves in its pureness and simplicity. idk why but for me it's just that good.

6. "i'm not one" - "(yet)" HAHA THAT WHOLE CONVERSATION!!! i literally went back and read it like 13 times in one go because i just couldn't help myself. aahhh i want to have a text conversation with charles too 😭

7. chris checking herself in the microwave + the line about "loving the cotton a little too hard" JUST SO RELATABLE. i might not be american or a teacher or anything she is but sometimes i just feel like you're writing about me hehe

8. CHARLES SAYING HE WANTS TO SEE HER OMG I'M DEAD + "do you think i'd be up this early for a hookup?" lol WHERE CAN I GET A CHARLES PLS

9. "...nobody wants to come to abu dhabi. he doesn't even particularly want to go to abu dhabi." why did i snort laugh at this though + "now you'd never guess he's the one who wanted her to come in the first place" THIS TOO hahah love it sm.

10. "i want you to stay with me." STAY CALM EVERYBODY STAY CALM 😭 i swear i'm not crazy! (just in a healthy amount)

11. EVEN A VOICE MEMO honestly why do these simple (yet perfect) touches to this story make me go feral? + also, "he's laughing, and she wonders what it would be like to be the wall his voice bounces from" might be one of my absolute favourite lines i ever read. POETIC. GORGEOUS. PERFECT. INSANE.

12. that whole paragraph about chris thinking about how weird the situation is and how she is definitely not a sugar baby LMAO + "she possesses the ability to use google flights" i cackled for real + "sleep is for the weak" so simple yet i love it so much

13. "i can't wait to be so weird when i see you" catch me crying 😭 god when is it my turn?!

ANOTHER GORGEOUS CHAPTER BY QUEEN MACK HERSELF ✨ what a perfect way to start my day really. i'm gonna be all giggly the whole day bc of this and i'm so grateful about it. love you lots, Mack, even if you don't know it.

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

—02. over the ocean call —word count: 6.1k —warnings: language, sexual innuendos —a/n: don't get used to this update schedule my loves. school starts back up again on monday.

In late October, the sunrise is perfectly timed to be at it’s blandest point during Chris’ morning commute. 7:35am, and the sun painted the sky shades of pink and orange and yellow half an hour ago while Chris was curling her hair. Now, it’s not dark, but it’s definitely not light, either. More of a blue hue covering the entire state, painting the parking lot with the emotions of a sleepy Monday morning. For the first time since she landed back home, Chris is feeling the exhaustion of the weekend.

She piles the bags onto her shoulder–a Jansport backpack and an Earth Day tote she’d been gifted by a student just before summer break last year. In one hand, she’s got a tangle of lanyards, one with her classroom keys and school ID, another with her car and house keys. In the other hand, an oversized travel coffee mug; one that made the morning commute perched between her legs because it’s too big for the cup holders in her car.

She scans her badge at the office door, greets the secretaries while rummaging through her mailbox, ducks her head into the principal’s office with a single warning knock. He’s not in yet. Her keys jangle and the heels of her booties echo the entire length of the quiet hallway to her classroom. She unlatches the door with her elbow, opens it with her hip and flicks on the lights. The room still smells like shaving cream from the spelling activity she’d left for the substitute on Friday.

In the time it takes her to boot up her computer and answer some missed emails from the weekend, she finishes what’s left of her coffee and heads to the teacher’s lounge to brew another cup. On her way back, she swings by the cafeteria.

Forty-percent of the district live below the state poverty line and qualify for free and reduced lunch. The lunch ladies are hard at work getting ready to start serving some hungry kiddos. All of the teachers in the district are allowed to eat breakfast and lunch as provided by the cafeteria, and even though Chris already ate breakfast, she snags a full tray–mini pancakes, syrup, a hashbrown, a clementine, and a carton of strawberry milk–and takes it back to her classroom.

Chris has one student, Quinn, whose family can’t afford reduced lunch prices but also won’t request for Quinn to qualify for the free lunch. She thinks it’s an ego thing, that Quinn’s mom just isn’t able to accept that the family needs help. It’s a single parent household and the mom works two full-time jobs to try and make ends meet. After a newsletter was sent home in need of parent signatures at the beginning of the year and returned with Mama written in sloppy green crayon, Chris learned that Quinn was living a relatively self-sufficient life. As self-sufficient as a five-year-old can be.

Chris sets the styrofoam tray down on the table in the front of the room and starts to get the place ready for students; she starts pulling down chairs, cleaning up the classroom library, updating the calendar on the white board and re-organizing the magnetic daily schedule. Normally she’d have a lot of this done before leaving the day before, but since there was a sub, nothing was done before locking the room up for the weekend.

At eight-twenty, Quinn knocks on the open door and trudges in with a backpack that’s half the size of her. “Hi, Miss Elliott,” she says through a yawn, plopping herself into the chair in front of the breakfast tray and digging in.

“Hi, Quinnie,” Chris smiles from her computer. Quinn relays that she missed Chris very much, a lot while she was gone on Friday and Chris’ smile grows. “I missed you, too. Did Mrs. Bliss do your hair up all nice?” She asks.

Quinn nods around her spork, around a mouthful of mini-pancake. “She did a braid,” she mumbles.

“You love braids!” Chris says, opens the bottom drawer of her desk and starts pulling out hair products. Quinn gives her a thumbs up as a confirmation of the braid love.

She spends the next fifteen minutes brushing through Quinn’s tangled hair. Mondays are always the worst because Quinn has all weekend to get it knotted up. She settles for a ponytail, braids the strands after it’s all smoothed out and puts a pink bow at the base of the pony. After they’re both finished–Chris with the hair and Quinn with the breakfast–the kindergartener heads back to the gymnasium to wait with the rest of her classmates.

She puts some final morning touches on the classroom before she goes to collect the kids and start the day, and like most Monday mornings around Robinson, time seems to move backwards. By the time she drops her kids off for their morning special–music on Mondays–she feels like she’s worked three ten hour days. She keeps busy during the downtime, making copies and grading word searches and putting newsletters into student mailboxes. It’s not until lunch, until her daily phone call with Hannah, that she remembers all about the unanswered text from the unknown number sitting in her phone just begging to be overthought.

“Can I, uh, can I tell you something?” Chris asks Hannah. “You can’t tell Chase.”

“Did you kill somebody?” Hannah laughs, Chris doesn’t. Might as well have, she thinks, because flirting with a racing driver is just as bad, if not worse, when it comes to Chase. He and Bill forbid Chandler and Chris from ever getting with a driver, even just for a night, when Chris was barely old enough to conceptualize what exactly a one-night stand was. She was thirteen, at most, and was still under the impression she was supposed to stay pure until marriage or else she’d go to Hell.

“Can I tell you, or not?”

“You can always tell me, c’mon,” Hannah says, and Chris suddenly feels guilty for suggesting Hannah was anything but trustworthy. They’ve been best friends for decades, a relationship that predates Chase and Hannah, predates Reid, predates puberty and elementary school and potty-training. They’ve always told each other everything, but, in the past couple years–since Chris’ best friend got engaged to her brother–she’s always a little hesitant with the stuff she doesn’t want to get back to Chase.

Outside of the fact that she expects Hannah to put her partner before her best-friend, Chris hates the idea of having to put Hannah between the two of them. She hates it, but she needs to tell someone about the text burning a hole in her phone, and who else is she going to tell? “Okay, so,” Chris smiles, realizes she’s smiling, and forces herself to stop. “There’s a guy.”

Hannah audibly gasps on the other end of the line. “There’s a guy? What’s his Instagram? First and last?”

“Do you want his social security number, too?” Chris laughs. Do they even have social security numbers in France? She clicks the spacebar on her keyboard to wake the monitor, types the question into the search bar. Oh, they do. Now she just feels silly. “We met this weekend.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a driver.”

There’s a long pause. Chris chuckles, because she doesn’t know what else to do. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Hannah clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, exhales heavy through her teeth. “Is he hot?”

Chris nods, and with a smile on her lips again, “Very.”

“Did you hook up with him?”

“Hannah!” Chris whispers through gritted teeth, looks around the room for the sudden presence of prying ears, clicks the volume on her phone down a few notches.

“Chris!”

“No, God. I just need to text him back.”

“You gave him your number?!”

She actually recoils out of surprise with Hannah’s tone. “That’s more absurd than the idea of me hooking up with him?”

“Yes,” Hannah deadpans.

“I don’t like you.”

“Well, little late on that realization, honey.”

“Can you just help me figure out what to say to him?”

“Yeah, but first,” Hannah pauses. Chris can hear the tapping of her freshly done acrylics on the glass phone screen. “I’m looking at a picture of all of them. Which one is he?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

Hannah groans, and Chris can imagine her pout so vividly. “You suck!”

“Okay,” she ignores Hannah’s temper tantrum. If she’s going to ask for help, she’s going to get the help. “So, he texted me and basically just said ‘hey,’ what should I send back?”

“Uh, just say ‘hi’ back?”

Chris pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs, “You literally have negative game.”

“I’m getting married in two months!”

“To my brother.”

“Got me there.”

Chris spends the next fifteen minutes drafting texts with Hannah as her peer-reviewer in the notes app on her phone. She doesn’t like any of them, they all feel forced, feel like they’re too strong or too weak or just all together strange and off-putting. Hannah calls her a chicken and Chris hangs up on her, sends a single kissy-face emoji in a text and calls it a lunch period.

After lunch and after recess, Chris’ class does more English. They practice writing their names and their letters and working on the way they hold their pencils. Chris is a real stickler when it comes to the way children hold their pencils. She took an ergonomics class her junior year of college for extra credit and some of it still sticks with her years later.

After that, it’s group reading and snack time. They read Rainbow Fish on the city-themed rug that came with Chris’ classroom when she started. They spend the rest of their afternoon crafting their own Rainbow Fish out of construction paper, glitter, and glue.

The last task of the day, and arguably the most stressful, is pickup. She drops all of the bus-riders off in the cafeteria, and that’s the easiest part of it all. It’s the back blacktop that’s the horrifying part, the hoard of parents and the four and five year olds anxious to run off to their mommies and daddies without letting Chris know first. Everyday that she survives pickup without any of the kids being abducted is a gold medal day in her book.

She heads to the Pre-K hall after that day’s episode of Survivor to pick up her nephew–Hannah’s son–Reid, and take him back to her classroom. She prints worksheets for tomorrow in the teacher’s lounge and when she comes back, has to re-tidy up the classroom behind Reid’s wake of destruction.

It’s not until she’s in the car, after she’s loaded up her bags and strapped Reid into his carseat, that Chris finally texts Charles back, and it’s about as creative a response as his original message.

She regrets the double text before she even pulls out of the school parking lot, but there’s nothing she can do about it now. It’s been months since she updated her phone, and she’s sure she doesn’t have the ‘undo send’ feature in her outdated software. And even then, she’s heard it notifies the person that a message is unsent, and the only thing worse than regretting a double text is letting the other person know that you regretted it.

It’s a fifteen minute drive back to Chris’ house, Reid in tow. By the time she gets back there’s a new message from Charles.

Okay, okay. The double text didn’t scare him off. He’s deeper than a Georgia frat brother, that’s definitely a check in the win column.

Per usual, it’ll be another hour before Hannah is back from work to pick Reid up, so like always, he and Chris share an after school snack from her fridge. Reid is a talker. He can droll on and on about the most obscure, irrelevant moments of his day like they’re the greatest thing to ever happen to a human being, and can listen to the sound of his own voice until he’s blue in the face. He tells Chris all about his day, about play time with the kid who picks his nose and wipes his boogers on the rug, about David’s bad day from storytime and all about Chase’s race. If there’s one thing the world’s most talkative kid likes to talk about more than anything else, it’s Chase’s racing.

Chris sips lemonade from a purple bendy straw and stares at her phone on the counter, open to the messages app.

“Are you texting to my mom?” Reid asks.

“I have other friends besides your Mom,” Chris quips, slides her plate of animal crackers across the table to him.

“Nuh, uh,” Reid shakes his head, chomps down on an animal cracker with the grace of a clown slipping on a banana peel, crumbs pouring from his mouth onto his shirt, his lap, the wood tabletop. Chris reaches over and swipes them onto the ground.

Chris laughs out loud, steals Reid’s attention away from playing make-believe zookeeper with the cookies in front of him. She wonders how quick he regrets sending it, or if she just has a one track mind.

She giggles a kind of hair-twirling, blush-inducing, feet-kicking giggle that makes Reid sigh loudly. “I’m trying to focus!” He says, glares at her with a hippo in one hand and a gorilla in the other. She snatches the gorilla and eats it in two bites. Reid, dumbfounded, is met with a smile from his aunt who promptly and dramatically licks her fingers.

She wishes she could be having an, of course he remembers moment, but she is genuinely shocked by it, moreso by the fact that she doesn’t even remember telling him about it in the first place. It had to have been during the Hot Lap, surely, sandwiched between her screams at two hundred miles an hour and his giddy giggles with each gear change.

Why would he ever remember that, she wonders. She’s sure that if she told Chase about it, under regular conversation standards on a regular weekend, he’d forget about it before the end of the hour, and he’s her brother. Her own blood. But here’s this guy, in the middle of this insane weekend, remembering a stupid little thing she tells him while he’s trying to focus on driving a car faster than any sane person’s reaction time could ever handle. It’s shocking.

Reid is gone, picked up by Hannah, and dinner is started when she messages him again. Chris is terrible with crushes, really. She’ll tell you it’s one of her worst traits; how easily she falls into a crush, how quickly her adult exterior melts away into nothing but a teenage girl hoping to be asked to the homecoming dance. She’s simple, easy to attain. Call her beautiful or remember something she thinks is important and you’re in her good graces, racking up points in a pro and con chart in her head. Charles has already done both of those things.

Her phone rings three minutes after she sends it. Facetime call: Maybe: Charles. Crap.

She checks herself out in the reflection of the microwave window. She’s still got on her morning makeup, and even it’s last leg is better than nothing. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, also from this morning, and falls messily around her face. She’s changed from work clothes into a pair of leggings and an old purple sorority hoodie, the neckline cut into a v and the ends of the sleeves tattered with tears and grease and loose threads from loving the cotton a little too hard. It’s not ratty… it’s just, comfortable. An acquired taste.

Has her kitchen always been this messy? Did it come like this? Has she ever cleaned it? Why, why, why does she keep a high school picture of her and Hannah on the fridge?

She rolls her sleeves over themselves and tucks as many frizzy hairs behind her ears as she can manage before she sets her phone up on the counter, against the backsplash tile, and answers it.

He’s greeting her with a smile, childlike almost, the way his dimples dig into his cheeks. Stupid. She remembered him as cute and she remembered right. She smiles back because even through a screen, even when you barely know him, it’s a contagious smile complimented with soft, warm eyes that manage to make it look like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Hello, Chris Elliott.”

“Hello, Charles Leclerc.”

“Tell me all about this dinner you’re cooking?”

“If you insist.”

“I insist a million times.”

They talk all evening about dinner and rainbow fish and how Chris is not, under any circumstances, going to be one of his girls. His dimples make her worry that she could be convinced to, though.

“Okay,” Chris says, sets her phone up against the hotel end table and takes a couple steps backwards so her entire figure is in frame. “Good? Bad?” She asks, spins, holds a thumbs up to the camera when she’s finished showing off the outfit. Charles smiles at the sound of her voice pouring from his airpod. “Keep in mind it’s the only thing I brought.”

She’s in a hotel room somewhere in Virginia. He doesn’t know where, exactly. He’s in Mexico, race day, breakfast in his hotel room with Joris and Andrea. The guys are bickering in the bathroom; Joris, attacking Andrea’s red on red ensemble, Andrea, attacking the seven hundred hair products Joris has stacked up on the vanity. They’d already eaten and knocked on Charles’ hotel room door until he woke up forty-five minutes later than he was supposed to.

“You could wear a rubbish bag,” he answers because he’s almost certain she could, but also because he knows it’ll make her blush. He smiles when it does, when she pretends it doesn’t. “I don’t know that you should be asking me for outfit advice, my fans are not fans.”

“I think you dress well,” she hums, and he watches her catch her reflection in the mirror, analyzing the sundress from every angle. He doesn’t need to analyze it, always has been a fan of sundresses, no matter the color, no matter the fit. You can never go wrong with a sundress, he thinks. Never. “Like right now, you look sharp.”

“‘I’m in pajamas,” he says.

“Sharp pajamas.”

He laughs, drops his head and shakes it. “You’re cute.”

“What about the outfit?”

“Cute too,” he says around a spoonful of food. “What’s under it?” He quips, bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t burst into laughter at her strawberry tinted cheeks. It’s exactly the reaction he’d been looking for, the one he’d found too much amusement in over the last few days. She blushes easier than anyone he’s ever met, and it’s more than just bright cheeks–it’s in her smile, pursed and big and adorable. It’s in her eyes, wide and unable to keep any semblance of direct contact with him. It’s a direct contrast to her normal state of being, to her normal attentive listening. She blushes too easily and he has too much fun making her.

It’s her words that always seem to take him by surprise, when she moves close to her camera again and almost whispers, “You wanna see?”

He coughs, clears his throat and looks around the room to make sure neither of the guys have appeared over his shoulder. “Very much, I would like seeing.”

She laughs. “You wish.”

“You’re a tease.”

She shrugs, reaches over her phone and out of frame. She grabs her purse and when she does, the phone falls face down onto the wood. “Sorry,” she squeaks, picks it back up. “Good luck today, yeah?” She tells him, a confident smile on her face. He nods, mouth full, and holds up a thumbs-up, waves at her quick goodbye.

It’s not even a couple minutes before his phone is buzzing against the plastic tabletop. A picture, from her, by her, of her. Her, and white lingerie and a little bit of imagination that has him doing all the blushing.

Fucking sundresses, man.

She sends him a picture of the whiteboard in her classroom, decorated for the Halloween party that day with fake spiderwebs and ghost stickers and pumpkins and all things Halloween that don’t scare a five year old to death. She also sends him a picture of two store bought sugar cookies with orange frosting, purple and black star sprinkles on top.

It doesn’t take long for the time difference to bite them in the ass, for the optimal time for communication to be hindered by sleep and work and meetings and more sleep. An hour too early for him, a few hours too late for her, not that she’d admit it, miss I would be awake and grading these papers whether or not I was talking with you.

That’s what she’s doing, sitting on her living room floor and grading papers on her coffee table. He’s making breakfast, but really he’s watching her grade papers and talking to her whenever she remembers that they’re having a conversation.

It’s cute, he thinks. Extremely so, the way she struggles to multitask. The way her voice will trail out into silence in the middle of a sentence because she’s trying to decipher a kindergartener’s little chicken scratch handwriting. It’s cute, the way she carefully flips through her book of stickers to find the perfect one for each and every paper, the way she carefully puts them on and makes sure they’re pressed down firmly so they don’t fall off somewhere between her coffee table and their desk. It’s cute, the purple pen with the sparkly gel gripper.

“I want to see you,” he blurts out in the middle of it all and it takes her a minute to process it. He watches the gears turn, watches her practically jump out of her skin at the sound of his voice like she really forgot he was there for a moment.

“You’re looking at me.”

“In person,” he laughs. “I want to see you in person.”

“I’m going to Arizona this weekend,” she says, and he can’t even believe she’s entertaining the idea. He was sure, actually, that he’d be getting another one of her I’m not going to hook up with you, Charles, lectures. It would be the second or third of the week, and no matter how many times he’s told her do you think I’d be up this early for a hookup, she remains unconvinced of his motives.

“I know.” She’s going with her brother. It’s the finals, or the playoffs, or something like that. He’s listening, trying to remember, he really is. None of it makes any sense, though. Formula One is so much easier to wrap your head around. “What about next weekend? You could come to Brazil.”

“No,” she yawns. It’s gotta be at least one-thirty there, she should be asleep. He shouldn’t be keeping her up. “I’m too busy with work that week. How about the one after?”

“Abu Dhabi.” He says it like a statement, not a question. Like, if we're going to wait that long, might as well wait until I’m home.

“I could come,” she says, and it surprises him because nobody wants to come to Abu Dhabi. He doesn’t even particularly want to go to Abu Dhabi. It’s felt a lot this season like it just never stops. Like, no matter what he does, he and the car and the team can’t get in sync. He’s ready to reset for next year, really, to challenge Max instead of shaking Checo off his ankles for a few more weeks.

“You want to come?”

She looks up from the papers at him, confused, clicking the back of her pen against the pages. “Do you want me to come?”

“Do you know how long that plane is?” He asks. “My family will be there,” he adds, and now you’d never guess he’s the one who wanted her to come in the first place. He doesn’t tell her all these things because he doesn’t want her there, he does. He just also wants to make sure she knows what she’s getting herself into, the lion’s den she’s climbing into, the shallow end of the pool and the nose-dive she’s taking.

It’s crazy enough to meet up somewhere neither of them live. It’s a whole other monster to do it at a race, where his family is also present.

“Do you,” she pauses, pointing the pen at the screen, “want me,” and then at herself. “To come?”

He shrugs. “I would not have said I want to see you if I didn’t want you to come.”

Even though he didn’t want to keep her up all night, he kept her up all night with planning. And, despite the incessant need to make it clear she isn’t a hookup, Chris also refuses to come under the guise of any sort of label. He’s not mad about that, flying her in under the implication to anyone that she’s his girlfriend… especially when she’s not? It’s a recipe for disaster, for drama and death threats and cross paddock glares for just existing. It’s something he wants to avoid for himself, but more importantly, something he wants to avoid for Chris, who didn’t sign up for any of this, who doesn’t reap any of the benefits of his life. She’s too good for the drama, he thinks.

Somehow, the conversation about the rooming situation requires more dancing than the refusal to put a label of any sorts on their… acquaintanceship. Where does she stay? With him, he wants to stay–stay with me, please stay with me. Does he see if someone can pull a few strings and get her a room in the same hotel, or would it be better for her to stay somewhere else? Better for who, he doesn’t know. He wants her with him, wants to pretend he doesn’t know half the drivers and half the teams stay at the same hotel, that people are always waiting in the lobby and outside waiting for pictures and signatures with their favorite zoo animals.

He scratches the back of his neck, “You could stay with me, if you want to.”

“Yeah,” Chris nods. “If you want me to.”

“If you want to.” They both chuckle, horribly nervous and awkward because they’re so terrified of making a wrong move, of coming on too strong or too careless.

“It’s your job,” she says, still fidgeting with her pen. Actually, now it’s just the glitter gel gripper that she's messing with. “Your life. I’m the intrusion–”

“You’re not an intrusion,” he interrupts, because she isn’t and he needs her to know he doesn’t think she is.

She smiles, looks up from the pencil grip in her hand to smile at him. “Okay, I’m the… guest. Tell me what you want me to do.”

He wishes he could reach into the phone and grab her hand and still it from bouncing the gel grip against the coffee table. Softly, he replies, “I want you to stay with me.”

She nods, and equally as soft, biting down on a smiley bottom lip, “Then I’ll stay with you.”

She mentions to him in passing that she’s on Thanksgiving break for the week that follows, letting it hang in the air with silent implication. He knows her game, completely aware that she wants him to make the next move–invite me to stay, I'm not going to say no, she’s telling him. I’m not going to say no, you just have to ask.

And so he does ask. Something about it’s only fair that you see my home country after I’ve seen yours. Really, he couldn’t care less about being in Monaco. He just wants to see her. Her and the purple pen and sticker book and nose crinkle when he tells a bad joke and the tug of the corners of her lips when she tries not to blush. He wants to see it all in front of him, right there where he can reach out and touch it.

He wants to take her on a date. He wants to take her on more than one date. Cook her dinner and show her around and memorize her presence when she’s not with her dad, when she isn’t screaming in a speeding car, when she’s not on the other side of the globe.

“Well,” he hums. “Now I’m excited.”

“You should be,” she says, smiling at a stack of spelling tests as she tucks them away into a folder. “I’m great fun.” He pauses, watches her with a small smile. She yawns again, stretches her arms above her head with a quiet groan. She’s up entirely too late. He’s kept her up entirely too late. I bet, he thinks. “What?” Chris laughs.

“You’re adorable when you are sleepy.”

She plays the voice memo and listens to his voice echo off the wall. He’s laughing, and she wonders what it would be like to be the wall his voice bounces from. You look like a commercial puppy, he says, it’s adorable.

“You’re so annoying,” she says into the phone microphone, “How’s the weekend going?” When she listens to it back after sending, you can still hear the congested sniffle in her voice even though she’s regained her composure.

Screwed by the weather, he responds. Sprint Race is soon.

“Good Luck!”

Enjoy your movie day.

—

He calls on Sunday night, late and unplanned. She’s already in bed, reading her book to wind-down before turning in for the night. His name on her screen makes her smile, even if she doesn't know the reason for the call. They’d been careful, when it came to calls, tried to make sure they planned them out so they didn’t spend all day, every day talking to each other.

“Hi,” she greets, hesitant. “Everything okay?”

“Uh,” he chuckles, but it’s tired. Tired and upset and far away from the phone. He doesn’t really answer, he just sighs.

She slides her bookmark between the pages and sets the book on her nightstand. “What’s wrong?” She asks, adjusts in bed so she’s sitting up straighter and pulls her legs close, crosses them under the sheets and puts him on speaker phone.

“I wish I was home,” he finally tells her. “Race today fucking… it’s like this, I don’t know.”

She didn’t watch the race. He knew she wasn’t watching it, that she was practically hibernating this weekend after a crazy week at work with what seemed like a never ending series of state testing. She didn’t watch the race, but now she’s really, really wishing she had. “You don’t have to show face with me,” she tells him. “Tell me what you want to say.”

“My fucking boss isn’t even here,” he starts, and he doesn’t stop. He’s got a lot to say. A lot to say about strategy and the championship and the car and himself and the season. It’s more than this race, it’s a lot of races, a lot of meetings, a lot of things she doesn’t really understand.

Chris just listens, because it’s about the only thing she can do. She can’t give him answers or solutions or advice, and even if she could, it doesn’t sound like he’s looking for any of those things.

She gets out of bed because she’s terrified that she’s going to fall asleep on him. She takes her water bottle and a blanket to her screened in porch, sits on the patio furniture and sips water and listens to the hum of the bugs and the sound of his voice on another continent.

She calls him in the back of her Uber, on her way to Atlanta to catch her flight. She’d debated with herself about telling someone she was going, just out of pure convenience, saving the hour drive to the airport by just… flying there. That would require telling one of the two people in her life that know how to fly a plane–Chase and Bill–that she was going to Abu Dhabi and Monaco to see a racing driver. That would not go over well, even a little bit. So, she doesn’t tell anyone where she’s going and Hannah is the only person who knows that she’s going anywhere at all. Chris is sure her best friend could guess where she’s going, but she can’t prove anything, not when Chris has turned off her location sharing and refuses to confirm or deny what flight she’s on.

“Are you gonna be weird when you see me?” She asks him, because this whole thing is so incredibly weird. It’s not normal, flying for seventeen hours across the world to hang out with a guy you haven’t even gone on a date with yet, a guy you haven’t spent more than a few minutes with. It feels almost illegal, letting a guy pay over a thousand dollars–he refused to tell her how much her ticket was, but she possesses the ability to use google flights–to come hang out with him. She’s not a sugar baby, right? Right? No, she isn’t a sugar baby.

“Yeah,” Charles says through a yawn. He’s already in Abu Dhabi and it’s the middle of the night there, half past midnight, at least. He should be sleeping. “So weird.”

“You should go to sleep.”

He smiles. “Sleep is for the weak.”

Chris rolls her eyes with extra gravitas. She knows he sees it because he laughs. “Good night, Charles. I’ll see you in…” she checks her watch, “nineteen hours.”

“I can’t wait to be sooo weird when I see you.”

“I’m going to watch Cars 2 on the plane. As preparation.”

—

She does watch Cars 2 on the plane. She watches Cars 2 and eats a shitty chicken Caesar salad as dinner with a ginger ale, because ginger ale is only good when you’re on a plane or have a stomach ache. After the stale meal in the stale air, she takes two melatonin gummies, shuffles her favorite playlist, and sleeps.

She wakes up an hour before they land in Paris, where she has a short layover. It takes the majority of said short layover to figure out where the heck she’s supposed to go. Once she’s figured it out, she spends the rest of the layover walking around the gate area, already exhausted with the idea of sitting still. She eats a chocolate croissant and has a coffee and listens to the people around her speak different languages with fluent ease.

The flight to Abu Dhabi is shorter, but she’s awake for all seven hours of it, so it feels a million times longer than the first one. Also, somewhere between the first and last sip of what might be the best coffee she’s ever drank, nervous little butterflies have begun wreaking havoc in her insides. She’s giddy, the kind of giddy that should be reserved for little kids. Giddy and fighting a stupid little crush with the most insane stakes.

It’s six o’clock local time on Friday evening when she lands in Abu Dhabi.

#juliana's fic #my fave fanfic #EVERYONE GO READ #fic: ma&thp #OMG #my fanfic commentary #f1 fic #cl16 fic

303 notes · View notes

munsonsduchess · 2 years ago

Text

Sweet Child O' Mine

summary: you and eddie get together with everyone after the baby is born w/c: 1,925 warnings: tooth rotting fluff, domestic!eddie, dilf!eddie, eddie's shitty childhood, mentions of blood, cw: pregnancy, swearing a/n: i couldn't help myself ok? that tiktok has me in a chokehold and we all know i adore domestic!eddie so now he's a dilf too.

Not beta'd. We die like Barb and Bob and Billy and Alexi. If you see a typo or a mistake then please let my editor know, he loves it.

This is part five of The God and Goddess of Hellfire and you can read the other parts here:

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

(moodboard by me)

If you'd asked Eddie Munson a couple of years ago what he thought life would be like after his (eventual) graduation from High School he would have said something along the lines of,

"I don't know, maybe chilling with my girl in our own place? Not her folks place or my uncles. Somewhere that just belongs to us y'know?"

If you'd told him that would be very much on the cards but there would be some … additions to that vision he might have called you crazy. Especially if you mentioned a baby.

Eddie was aware that he didn't have the greatest start in life be it genetics or whatever. His old man was a drunk and an abusive son of a bitch who got off on making Eddie's mom feel small and frightened. He couldn't count the amount of impromptu three am sleepovers he'd had at your place while your mom drove his to the emergency room.

Eddie used to blame his mom for never leaving his dad, how could she just stand there and take it? Didn't she want to live somewhere in peace? Didn't she want that for Eddie? When he'd come home from elementary school and she was nowhere to be found he'd cried and cried until he was sick and until his old man had thrown a beer bottle at his head and told him to stop crying like a little pussy. Eddie had been ten years old. It was another three before he was left effectively orphaned when his dad got banged up for trying to steal some rich asshole's car in the city.

That was when Wayne had stepped in. Eddie didn't know who called his uncle and told him about his nephew's circumstances but Eddie would always be grateful for whoever it was. True at first Eddie had thought Wayne would be just like his Dad and he'd acted out about it but then Wayne had taken everything out of the back bedroom and bought Eddie a brand new record player for his birthday and Eddie had never cried so much.

So the idea of bringing a kid into the world, with his messed up family history was a little frightening to say the least, but then it happened anyway. Needless to say Eddie was a little shocked at first but he resolved to be the best Dad a kid could ask for, even going out of his way to ask Steve for tips on dealing with the kids they already 'shared custody' of.

Standing in that hospital room and holding your hand as tightly as he could Eddie was terrified, you were doing such an amazing thing and there he was stood there shaking like a newborn deer. Of course the second he heard that little baby cry every doubt, every fear left his mind, all that mattered was that kid screaming,

"Congratulations Mr and Mrs Munson, it's a girl!" the doctor had said with a smile, "would you like to cut the cord Mr Munson?"

"Cut the - ?" Eddie didn't know what he was being asked to do but you pushed on his back encouragingly and he followed the doctor. There she was, pink, all ten fingers and all ten toes, covered in blood and screaming bloody murder.

The doctor showed Eddie what to do then handed the baby to a nurse to be cleaned up before being presented to the proud parents. Eddie was in awe, how had he hand in creating something so perfect? There was no way he could have done something this right with his life,

"Hey you, nice to meet the person who's been playing kickball with my kidneys" you laughed as the nurse set the baby down on your chest, "i'm your mom and this sappy bastard is your dad"

"She's - she's perfect" Eddie whispered, "baby she's perfect" he could feel the tears running down his face but Eddie didn't care. He had a daughter. He was a dad.

➽───────────────❥

In what was perhaps the strangest game of telephone you'd ever participated in you and Eddie found yourselves staring at a house in downtown Hawkins with the keys in your hands. Apparently Steve had told the kids when you'd had the baby, after Eddie had told him, the kids had then relayed the message to their parents one such parent being Joyce Byers who then relayed the message to the not dead Chief Hopper and had apparently been very instant that you and Eddie couldn't raise a new baby in a trailer park that had been mostly decimated from an 'earthquake' especially when there were so many empty houses. Hawkins residents having simply fled after one too many disasters in a small town and left their homes abandoned and ready for just anyone to move in.

Anyone being you and Eddie apparently, and the baby of course. It felt strange to say the least but you would make it your own, a new start for your new family.

Of course neither of you had forgotten about the rest of the family. Your parents and Eddie's Uncle came over to help with whatever needed done, your mom would look after the baby when you slept. Eddie, your Dad and Wayne would take care of whatever needed done around the house until it looked just how you wanted it to.

When the house was finally in a sort of shape and both you and baby were up for visitors, Eddie called Steve and Nancy and asked if they'd ferry the kids over to the house since they'd all been chomping at the bit to come by. Eddie would have gone himself but he'd traded in the van for a 67 Chevy instead, something much safer to have a baby driving around in. The ride home from the hospital in the van had been, harrowing, to say the least so you both said goodbye to the van and the memories you'd made in it. It was time to move on, plain and simple.

➽───────────────❥

The sound of a car pulling into the drive had Eddie bouncing up off the couch to open the door, immediately he was swarmed with six children who were all jostling for his attention and speaking over one and other,

"Hey Shitheads! What did we talk about in the car?" Steve yelled at them but it went unheeded as usual, "I don't know why I bother"

The kids ran into the house after apparently having their fill of Eddie, it was great to see the older man but the real reason they were here was inside. Eddie didn't know whether to laugh or feel put out that the kids didn't want to spend time with him,

"Hey Harrington, thanks for bringing them" he smiled and held out a hand to shake Steve's but the other man simply used the outstretched hand to pull Eddie into a tight hug,

"Congratulations man, I'm happy for you both" his smile was blinding and Eddie almost had to pinch himself to think that Steve 'the hair' Harrington, King of Hawkins High was his friend now and had come by to see his daughter.

Steve was followed up the drive by Nancy Wheeler and the other two kids who had held back from the initial onslaught, Will Byers and his sister Eleven or was it Jane? Eddie couldn't remember what he was supposed to call the quiet girl,

"Hi Eddie" Nancy smiled and Steve stood aside to let the younger woman hug Eddie as well, "are you sure it's ok that we brought the kids?"

"Yeah! Totally! I mean they'd probably have biked all the way here otherwise" Eddie laughed, "no matter what you told them"

"Isn't that the truth" Steve agreed, "Robin said to tell you she's sorry but she couldn't be here. She and Vickie are still in Indy"

"Jonathan is at home with Joyce but he sent me with his camera so I can take lots of pictures for you guys" Nancy added.

Eddie could hardly believe where his life had ended up. Nancy Wheeler was standing in his driveway with a camera to take pictures of his baby with a pretty professional looking camera, it made the polaroid you and Eddie had been using pale in comparison,

"Well you'd better come in before the neighbours think I'm hexing you guys or something" Eddie laughed and stepped aside, "Welcome to Casa De Munson"

In the living room you'd been surrounded by children from the get go, they'd all clambored in wanting to see you and the baby. Everyone had brought something as well and each wanted to be the first to give you their gift for the baby,

"No way Mike you weren't here first!" Max argued, "back off and wait your turn!"

"Lucas tell your girlfriend not to be such a bitch!" the younger Wheeler snapped at his friend,

"Open mine first! It's the best!" Dustin was ignoring everyone else as he thrust a small wrapped package at your face,

"Hey dickheads!" Eddie called, "stop crowding my wife!"

"We haven't seen you guys in weeks!" Dustin protested, "you just dropped off the map"

"Alright that's it everybody back up!" you yelled, "I'm about five seconds from kicking your asses onto the lawn and locking the doors!"

There wasn't a sound out of the assembled group of pre teens after you'd raised your voice, as you scanned the room your eyes fell on Will and Eleven and you smiled,

"Which one of you wants to see the baby first?" you asked them kindly, "come on over, make some room you lot"

Will and El moved forwards carefully before coming to stop at the couch where you'd been sat with the baby in your arms,

"She is small," El said, peering at the sleeping baby in your arms, "is she ok?"

"Babies are pretty small at first" you explained, "she'll get bigger as she gets older"

"What's her name?" Will asked, he was clutching a piece of rolled up paper in his hands and twisting the elastic band wrapped around the paper nervously,

"Rosemary. Rosemary Beth Munson"

"That's such a nice name" Nancy said with a smile, peering over the heads of the kids in front of you, "she's beautiful"

"I figured you guys would have gone for some kind of rocker name honestly" Steve said, "but yeah Nance is right that's a really pretty name"

Eddie locked eyes with you and grinned back at Steve, you two had spoken at length about what you'd wanted to call the baby,

"Well we kind of did Harrington, her middle name is Beth for the Kiss song"

"Her first name is for Eddie's mom" you added, "she was a really nice lady and she'd have loved her granddaughter"

There was a moment of shared intimacy in the quiet moment that followed you speaking. You and Eddie just looking at one and other across the room. Eddie's mom was a kind and beautiful woman and you were sure her namesake would be just like her grandma.

The moment didn't last as once again the kids took up yelling and jostling each other about gifts and who got to give theirs first. Steve immediately flew into babysitter mode and tried to break the fighting up while Nancy just laughed and took some pictures.

Your little family was a strange one but you wouldn't change it for the world. It wasn't all connected by blood but it didn't need to be.

Family was what you made it.

Taglist: @pillow-titties @prettyboyeddiemunson @eddiesmutson @eddiemvnsonss @hellfireeddiemunson @that-lame-ghoul9000 @xbreezymeadowsx @boomhauer @flashyourgreeneyesatme @ches-86 @hoppershoe @slytherinintj13 @wheaty-melon @inluvweddiemunson @lucciaa9 @shenanigans-and-imagines @jobean12-blog (if you're scored out it means tumblr won't let me tag you properly)

If you want to be added/removed from the taglist just let me know!

430 notes · View notes

emmies-archives · 4 years ago

Text

-Haikyuu boys and sensation play-

fem!reader x sub!haikyuu -asahi, sugawara-

Warnings: Nsfw, fem & dom reader, temperature play, toys, ice, massage candles, wax play, handjob, handjob, nipple play, slight masochism, praise

A/N: ehh I gonna do a couple more people but got food n got lazy ignore typos it was done fast lmfao

Asahi – temperature play-

You’ve never seen him move so much before; it was enthralling to see the way he twitched underneath you. Pressing the chilled glass toy against his barely parted lips, he ran his tongue around the tip.

Slowly dragging it down his chest, circling one of his nipples while your warm fingers toyed with the other one. You heard him suck in a breath, a small smile sat on your lips at the sound.

You pressed the toy into him just enough for him to feel the coolness of it ghost over his bare skin. His torso flexed as it trailed further down, stopping just above his navel.

“Open up.”

You didn’t have to say anything else before he slowly parted his lips again, a light pink dancing across his cheeks as you stared down at him.

“What a good boy.” Pushing his jaw open further, you slowly ran an ice cube over his lips. Humming approvingly when he closed his mouth around it.

Keeping your other hand wrapped around the toy, you connected your lips with his. Your warm tongue pushing inside, the contrast with the melting ice made him groan softly. Hips pushing up into you.

“Hold on, baby. Don’t be so eager, we’re going to take our time.” You mumbled against his lips, warm breath puffing over them as you spoke.

Kissing him once more you

Tossing the toy on the bed, you snaked your arm between your bodies. His back arched slightly as you wrapped your cold fingers around his length. Stroking him ever so slightly, letting him feel every sensation.

Using another ice cube you pressed it gently against his nipple, circling it before letting it sit. Wrapping your lips around the other one, flattening your tongue against it. Greedily taking all the breathy noises that were starting to slip from him more.

He was having a hard time holding them back now, not usually one to be vocal but everything you were doing was new and he wanted more than what you were giving him.

None of your touches were meant to be overwhelming, all soft and slow. But as you added more sensations you were starting to drive him crazy. The difference between your warm tongue and cold fingers was nearly making shiver.

His hips jerked up again as you swiped your thumb over the tip, pressing against the sensitive spot just below it. His head fell back a little and low groan slipped from him.

“Fuck, feels so good. I want more, please.” His voice wavered as he spoke, he was always so polite.

Sugawara – massage candles-

You couldn’t help the grin pulling at your lips when you leaned back over Sugawara. There was something stirring in his eyes that you weren’t quite sure how to read. Either excitement or fear.

Tipping the candle slightly you carefully watched his expression as the hot wax dripped onto his chest. You waited for it to cool before pouring more.

“This color is pretty on you, Kou.” Pushing a finger into the cooling wax you smeared it across his chest. He gave you a small smile nodding at your words despite not really looking at the candle. Too focused on the wax you dripped onto him once more.

Moving down now you left a trail of red wax down his torso. Watching the way the rise and fall of his chest seemed to quicken each time you dripped the hot wax.

“You like that? It’s not too uncomfortable is it?” He shook his head quickly, moving his eyes to meet your gaze.

“I like it a lot, it feels good.”

You almost laughed a little at the way he answered so fast, of course he was enjoying it. The way his face flushed and how he gripped the sheets tightly, the small groans slowly growing breathier as you moved lower.

“Really, hm. What about if I poured some here?” Not giving him a chance to think about your question, you moved the candle to pour a dime size amount of melted wax onto his left nipple.

Greedily taking the loud whine that slipped from the back of his throat, his hips jutting up at the intense sensation. It felt so different than just dripping wax onto his skin, just barely hurting but he liked it. A lot.

“Do that again.”

“Hm?” You teased, pressing your thumb into the cooling wax circling it around his nipple.

“Please, fuck do it again.” He breathed out, head falling back a little as he spoke. The burning on his cheeks growing hotter, almost mimicking the wax melting from the candles flame.

“Of course, baby. I didn’t know you liked it that much, but I’m not shocked.” Leaning forward you pressed your lips to his right nipple softly before pulling back and dripping wax onto it.

Gripping your wrist tight he pushed his hips up into nothing, back arching at the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Why don’t we see just how much pain you can handle, yeah?”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#ems-thirsting #sub sugawara #sugawara koshi #sugawara #sugawara x reader smut #asahi x reader #asahi azumane #asahi smut #sub asahi #haikyuu thirsts #karasuno

420 notes · View notes

luminari-mc · 3 years ago

Text

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 1

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 5194

Summary: Mammon finds himself lost in the human world. Meanwhile, MC can't get ahold of Solomon, their phone dead silent.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: My first writing piece for Obey Me! It's kind of a long one so I recommend you grab a snack or two during it. While this part is occupied by a good amount of text messages between Mammon and someone else, I'm already thinking of writing a part 2 which will have way more dialogue. In the meantime, please enjoy this little scenario I came up with after listening to a song that set me in an angsty mood. :)

______________________________________________________

Wet. Cold. Exhausted. And completely lost.

Mammon felt all of those, and yet, his legs kept on marching into the dead of night, his jacket covering his head despite being too drenched to protect him from the rain anymore. Each time a droplet of water came rolling on his cheek, his wrist would come to brush it off, and Mammon would let out an annoyed groan. If only there were any shops open, but the city was definitely asleep. He was thankful for the crashing sound of the rain on the ground around him, along with the smell of the wet asphalt keeping himself awake, otherwise, he surely would have gone crazy by now. The demon had even lost count of how many hours he had been wandering through the streets, how many mailboxes he had checked, how few passersby he had come across, only to receive negative answers to his questions.

And so Mammon kept on walking, not sure where to go next. But he felt sure of one thing: he wouldn't stop moving until he had found what he was looking for. Be there rain, or no rain. Lost or not.

"Tch, the human world's weather really sucks..."

As he walked on the pavement, his brow furrowed from the lack of new clues as to where his destination was supposed to be. His eyes caught sight of a bakery he had already walked by earlier during the day, its gentle light piercing the darkness that had been accompanying him for far too long now. Mammon's brow furrowed slightly at the sight- he knew he had gone in circles time and time again, but seeing it confirmed once more rubbed him the wrong way. Despite that, he decided to walk towards it, and took shelter under the entrance's porch. Surely the owners wouldn't mind him checking his phone for a few minutes, right? Right.

Pinching between his fingers the precious D.D.D. he had tucked under his shirt to protect it from the rain, Mammon looked at the map again. His stomach dropped for the upteenth time upon seeing the address still showing in his search bar, the letters and numbers taunting him. A knot formed in his throat as he tried his best not to scream at his screen.

"It wasn't there, you idiot..."

His mouth formed into an angry pout. Mammon looked into the list of potential addresses he had made throughout the day, and all had been crossed out. He felt his jaw clench- not only was he left with no addresses, no other clues, no humans to help him, but also that stupid rain surely would keep on falling for the rest of the night.

He was truly cursed.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Mammon groaned, his free hand reaching upward to grab at his hair in frustration.

Yes... that was a good question. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could ask help from any of his brothers, or from the angels. It had already been a miracle a witch he knew accepted to snuck him into the human world without anyone knowing, but there was no way he'd get any more help from her without offering his own life in exchange. And contacting Solomon was absolutely out of the question, for his own obvious reasons that he still was suspicious of the guy.

For the longest time in a while, Mammon felt alone. More alone than he had ever been before. He had promised himself to go on this search on his own, stupidly thinking that it'd be over by the end of the day, and look where that got him. Lost in the human world, on the verge of catching some nasty human virus from all this rain that had poured on him, and without anyone by his side.

The grip on his phone tightened, the hand holding it shaking slightly as the anger was starting to consume the demon. Even Mammon's patience had its limits, and he was starting to reach it.

"Dammit, where the hell are ya-"

A pathetic yelp escaped his mouth as he looked in fear at his phone, which had buzzed for a very short second in his palm. Wait, was it a notification? But from who? He had taken all the necessary precautions before leaving, so who was still able to reach his number?

His mind ran through all possibilities as he quickly checked his screen, the name of the sender making him open his eyes wide.

Leviathan: Mammon!!

Leviathan: Where are you???

Leviathan: You promised me you'd play this new game with me after coming home from RAD, don't tell me you forgot?? It's been HOURS.

Leviathan: Also the others say they can't reach your DDD and Lucifer is seriously pissed!

Leviathan: And I know you didn't break your DDD, that wouldn't explain why I can send texts now and the others still can't. Even though mine didn't work before.

Leviathan: But do you know how much time and effort it took me to find a way to bypass a blocked number?? Well guess what, the same amount of hours since you broke your promise!

Leviathan: You're reading this, right? Then send something! Anything!

Mammon backed even more into the porch of the shop, his eyes stuck to the screen of his phone. All of the blood rushing to his head suddenly made him forget he was cold in the first place. Of course Levi would be the first to find a way to contact him.

The demon's chest rose as he breathed in heavily, his hands slowly wrapping around the phone. It took him a hot minute to get ahold of his trembling fingers so as to not make any typos, his mind debating whether responding was a good idea or not, even as he hit the send button.

Mammon: Sorry Levi, gonna have to postpone the gaming session.

Mammon: I got business elsewhere and I'm not sure when I'll come back home, if ever.

Leviathan: Ew stop sounding so gloomy, you're almost starting to sound like me and tbh it would be kinda creepy.

Leviathan: That still doesn't tell me where you are! I know it's like a common thing for you to get into shady stuff on a regular basis but even Lucifer seems concerned, and weirdly enough he's not even trying to hide it???

Leviathan: He's been pacing back and forth in the common room for 20 minutes and won't let go of his phone it's starting to creep me out.

Leviathan: Hey huh, if you really were in big trouble you'd let us know, right? Like, even by typing a secret message to let us know that you got kidnapped or whatever?

Leviathan: Nevermind, I really don't see why you'd even get kidnapped, so it HAS to be that you chose to disappear by yourself.

Leviathan: But anyway! It's been 2 months now since everyone's been acting weird and I've seen and heard you enough to CLEARLY see that you're getting worse but finding trouble with witches or whatever won't help you feel better. And yes I know you've been faking being fine the entire time!! Don't think you can fool me!!

Leviathan: Believe me and the hundreds of figurines I bought!! I thought they'd help and it's somehow doing nothing, I feel like the worst fraud of an otaku EVER!!! How can I call myself an otaku when I can't even find joy anymore in the things that make an otaku what he is??

Leviathan: It's like I'm losing my identity! Wait no screw that, it's not just me, we've all been losing it!!

The three dots of a message being typed disappeared and reappeared, and Mammon couldn't do anything but watch the messages of his brother pop up one after another on his screen. A sense of guilt surfaced inside of him, and it only made him frown. It's not as if he hadn't thought about asking Levi for help, before getting himself into this mess... but for both of their sakes, he had decided that it had to be him coming here, and only him.

But suddenly, just as he expected his brother to send another message, the three dots disappeared, and didn't come back right away. Mammon's focus on his phone increased at the unexplained absence of new texts from Levi, and he waited, expecting him to continue the chain of messages he had started. But nothing followed.

It wasn't in Levi's habits to suddenly stop texting in the middle of a flood of texts. The demon gripped his phone tighter, worry beginning to grow within his mind. Was it because they were in different worlds that their phones couldn't reach properly? Or worse- had Lucifer found him out?

His heart almost skipped a beat as the three dots reappeared under his eyes, before letting another message pop up.

Leviathan: wait

Leviathan: waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait

Leviathan: OMG NO WAY

Leviathan: MAMMON TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING

Mammon: I literally haven't said anything?

Leviathan: YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

Leviathan: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE IN THE HUMAN WORLD RN??

Shit.

How did he even find out?! Well... he could only assume that it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where Mammon could have gone if not anywhere in the Devildom, but still, why did Levi have to type it out? His plan was supposed to be flawless after all.

Mammon: Sorry bro, I can't say where I am.

Mammon: I know Lucifer's bound to check all of your DDDs sooner or later and that's only gonna help him find me.

Mammon: And like I said, I have something to do, so I can't come back.

Leviathan: Wait! I'll delete all of our messages, and I'll even destroy my DDD if it means you tell me why you're there

Leviathan: Actually no don't even answer, there can only be one reason you took that kind of risk

Leviathan: Is it... because of MC?

Upon reading their name again, Mammon felt his stomach sink. The eyes of the Avatar of Greed closed almost instantly as if to avoid reading it, the damp air whistling through his teeth as he breathed in deeply. Of course Levi would figure that out too. Any of his brothers could have.

The demon leaned his head against the wall behind him, his eyes opening and staring into nothing as he contemplated telling Levi about his plan. It wasn't as if he had any backup plans considering the situation he was in, after all. And Levi had the advantage of being at home, and having access to technology and magic that could improve his search further. But the thought of Lucifer figuring everything out still haunted him, making the hair on his skin stand straight.

And yet... At this point, he had nothing else to lose.

Mammon: Ya gotta promise not to tell anyone about this.

Leviathan: Who do you take me for? I'm not a snitch!

Leviathan: Especially if it's about MC.

Leviathan: But huh... what about Lucifer? You know that if when he finds out you went to the human world, he's going to kill you.

Mammon: Fuck Lucifer.

Mammon: I'm tired of hearin' him say he's "taking care of it". He clearly knows something but won't tell any of us and I'm tired of not getting any news from MC since they left the Devildom 2 months ago.

Mammon: And what's with his excuse about them not havin' their DDD anymore to contact us? I call that a load of bullshit.

Mammon: Something weird happened and Lucifer's too stuck-up to let us know what it is.

Mammon: So I'm done waiting around to see when they'll come back, or IF they'll even come back. So I'm going to get them myself.

Mammon: Problem is, I went to MC's place, and they weren't there. Their neighbor told me that they moved out a while ago with, get this, "a guy with white hair".

Leviathan: ??????? Solomon?????

Mammon: I'd bet my Demonio and all the things I possess that it's him.

Mammon: Not only Lucifer's in on this secret thing about MC, but Solomon too. I've already booked him an appointment with my fists if he did anythin' to them.

Mammon: Hell, even Diavolo and Barbatos seem to be in it too, which sucks even bigger time.

Mammon: So that means it's just us 6 who don't know shit. I wasn't about to play nice and dumb for Lucifer any longer.

Leviathan: Mammon

Leviathan: I never thought I'd ever write something like that to YOU

Leviathan: but

Leviathan: you sound super cool rn!! That just makes me wish I could have gone too!!

Leviathan: Pleasepleaseplease let me help!!! I'm also worried about MC and I miss having them here. The atmosphere at the house has sucked ever since we realized we couldn't text or call them anymore and I huh... kinda miss seeing them around the others too.

For a split second, Mammon considered taking a screenshot of Levi's last message to sell it as "the proof that the Avatar of Envy can control his jealousy!", but now wasn't the time for that. He had Levi's approval for helping him find the whereabouts of MC, and that's all he needed at the moment. He hadn't even noticed his lips turning into a small grin upon reading his brother offering his support.

Mammon: Alright Levi listen.

Mammon: All I'm tryin' right now is to find where MC might be.

Mammon: I don't think they left the place I'm at, but I ain't about to search at every damn house there is here. Would take too much time anyway.

Mammon: So can ya use your shut-in powers and figure somethin' out? Like I don't know, catch their human phone's signal or whatever through hacking?

Leviathan: Lol? I'll let you know it's not because I spend my entire days in my room that I know how to find a human phone!

Leviathan: I know how to hack yeah, but I don't know how to hack human technology! Not that I maybe tried once or twice and it resulted in failure each time.

Leviathan: But huh... I could try?

Leviathan: Let me ask Satan if we could use magic too.

Mammon: Satan? Levi, are you stupid? Last thing we want is to get more people to know about what I'm doing.

Leviathan: Oh huh yeaaaah, about that.

Leviathan: I should have told you sooner, but when I stopped answering earlier it's because Satan caught me texting you.

Leviathan: But he actually knew you had left to the human world! So we don't have to worry! He's on our side... obviously.

Mammon: Then the two of you get on it.

Mammon: And don't catch Lucifer's attention.

Leviathan: Yeah!

Leviathan: I'll let you know when we've found something.

Leviathan: BRB!

And then just like earlier, Levi's texts stopped appearing on his screen. A sigh left Mammon's lips as he closed his eyes, and the demon allowed his body to slide against the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground. As he stretched out his sore body, the second-born finally realized that after two whole months of not getting to hear MC's voice, seeing their smile, getting to touch them... he had gotten closer to finding them, all thanks to his brothers. He had let Lucifer's intimidation get the best of him throughout all this time, but not anymore. No matter whether his older brother would catch wind of where he was, and what he was doing, Mammon would never stop trying to bring back MC where they belonged. With him, in the Devildom, back with the family they had found and grown to love.

Closing the messaging app with his thumb, the picture of MC he had set as his D.D.D. background seemed to radiate like the sun. How dared them all try to separate his human from their first man? From the one who'd they come to whenever they had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep? The demon who'd hug them as tight as possible in their bed after a long day at RAD? The one who'd had the chance to fall asleep with them, getting the absolute honor of seeing their face so close to his, and who'd protect their dreams from any bad thoughts and scary nightmares?

The anxiety that Mammon had worn on his face all day slowly disappeared, and a small smile was placed upon it instead as his eyes met MC's in the picture.

"I'm almost there. Ya just gotta be patient a little more."

I'll find ya.

Time went on as Mammon waited for any news of Levi and Satan's research. The rain showed no sign of clearing soon, and the demon was starting to doze off after spending his entire day without taking a single break. He could have almost fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the owner of the bakery opening the door to close his shop and asking him to sit somewhere else. So Mammon moved from one spot to another, and took shelter near another store instead.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting on the stone steps he had sat on, his phone's screen flashed a bright light as a new notification from Levi appeared from the top. Quickly passing his wrist on his tired eyes, Mammon tapped on the new message at the speed of light. The contents made him gasp, and for a second, he had almost forgotten how to breathe, as his now wide-open eyes were glued on the content of the message.

A full-on address, along with a picture of the place.

Mammon instantly stood up at the sight of the picture, the memories of his day resurfacing in a flash. He remembered very clearly seeing this particular building sometime during his search- its height had been making it stand out very easily amongst the other buildings in the city. Nobody couldn't mistake it with anything else.

Mammon: This is it?

Leviathan: Yeah, we placed down a map and confirmed it was there.

Leviathan: Satan actually found a book in his room with a spell that can help find a person's specific item with just some of their DNA.

Leviathan: So we went to MC's room and found some hair that Satan used for the spell, along with his phone so it could narrow down the list of MC's items.

Leviathan: I didn't think Satan's room could look even more of a mess, but he spent 10 minutes shoveling through his collection and now you can't even see the floor or his bed anymore lol

Leviathan: Anyway now that you got what you wanted, go and check if MC is there!

Mammon felt his legs move on their own as he flipped his jacket above his head and stepped under the rain again, a confident grin now brightly adorning his face as he typed on his phone to reply.

Mammon: Thanks Levi. I'll owe ya one.

Leviathan: Find MC and bring them back. Then you can consider us even.

Mammon nodded, a newfound hope filling his entire body and mind. After confirming that Levi had ceased texting him, the demon turned the phone off. He opened his hand to drop it on the wet floor, and let his right foot crash down upon it, the object almost breaking in half. Mammon promptly gathered in his hand the shattered item, now completely unusable, and threw it down a nearby sewer before letting his excitement take the best of him and sprint further in the direction of the building from the picture. At least, now Lucifer wouldn't be able to track him down with it if Levi and Satan got caught.

The more distance he covered, the more Mammon could swear he was about to take on his demon form at any moment. The thoughts of MC began to fill his head even more, as if they were the one pushing him to find them, to get to them as soon as possible. For the first time in 2 months, Mammon felt truly alive.

"Almost there. The Great Mammon's coming for ya, MC!!" he let out in the form of an encouragement to himself, his legs having found their energy again as his form was engulfed further into the city.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Anxiously pacing around the room, their head low and their phone in their hands, MC was growing more and more impatient. They were supposed to receive an update from Solomon about three hours earlier in the form of a phone call, but no matter the amount of messages they'd spent in the hopes of the wizard finally answering them, all they received was a dreadful silence. Grabbing a nearby chair, they let their body fall onto the seat as their fingers typed yet another message. They couldn't really understand how they had come to grow so persistent when it came to getting Solomon to reply to them, but having no other person to talk to ever since they left the Devildom 2 months prior would do that to anyone, they assumed.

'Solomon, sorry, I know I'm sending a lot of texts, but you said you'd visit today and I'm starting to be worried and... honestly a bit lonely. I thought going out today would help, but I just sat in the park for an hour before going back home and not doing much of the day.'

'You were supposed to meet with other wizards today, right? I hope nothing bad happened. But in case you're alright, all I'm asking is just one reply to at least get some sort of human connection. Not that I had a lot of it in the past few months.'

They felt their throat tighten upon writing their last sentence, feeling the frustration spilling out of their own words right back into their face. But who could blame them?

2 months without seeing, hearing, or even texting their friends back in the Devildom. 2 months without receiving a single visit from Luke or Simeon. 2 months spent exclusively with the company of Solomon, who had been acting strange ever since and had made them move out of their home under the excuse that it was to "train them at magic in a more private setting". But more importantly... those had been 2 months without having Mammon around, and MC would lie if they said they hadn't spent several nights crying themself to sleep, wondering how the demon was dealing with their absence.

The memories of their latest departure from the Devildom played in their head like a movie as they placed a hand on their forehead. Everything had seemed alright at the time, with them getting to say their usual goodbyes to the brothers, wishing to see them again once the new year at RAD would start, foolishly thinking that they'd get to spend their time hearing their voices on a daily basis once they were back in the human world. And before they could understand, their DDD had been taken from them, Solomon had been more present in their life than ever before, and for a reason they still couldn't grasp, it was as if the brothers had vanished from their life completely. No news whatsoever. Complete radio silence.

Just thinking back to this period, and how they could have probably caught that something was up as soon as Diavolo asked for their DDD after the brothers had left... it just made them want to puke.

But nothing could make them want to do so as much as the long-awaited reply of Solomon appearing on their screen.

'Hi MC. I'm deeply sorry I couldn't get ahold of you throughout the day. I won't be able to visit you today, since my services are still required here. Besides, it's getting late. I recommend you go have a good night's sleep as soon as possible.'

'If everything goes smoothly, I should be able to come back tomorrow. Then, we'll be able to go walk wherever you want. How does that sound?'

'I need to be going, but I shall wish you a good night. Take care, MC.'

And just as quickly as he had answered, Solomon went silent again. Leaving them in this apartment they had grown to hate, this prison cell he had put them in. A place where no fun could be found for them. MC didn't even bother sending anything else after that.

Their head sunk even lower, until their forehead slowly met with the hard surface of the dinner table. The phone faceplanted onto the wood as MC's hands turned into hard fists, a deep groan shaking the walls of their throat. It was hard not to let the tears escape their eyes, but instead, they opted to punch the table several times as hard as they could, until they felt their anger diminish.

How long was Solomon going to act ignorant towards them? How long was he going to ignore their pleas to get news from the Devildom, anything that would let them know why they couldn't contact the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos? Even if the lords had been in some sort of trouble... they'd still find time to talk to their human, right? There was no way Mammon, the one they loved, wouldn't try to reach them one way or another... right?

Him who had been so clingy in such an adorable way every time they'd be at the House of Lamentation, he who had revealed to them that there wasn't a single day where his thoughts wouldn't drift to them no matter how hard he tried...

No. No amount of important duties would explain why Mammon of all demons, would ignore them like that.

They missed his antics. His entire being. The warmth he'd bring them each time he'd hold their hand before tucking his face into their neck like a pouting child, desperately trying to sneak one or two kisses in there, in the hopes he'd get to hear that sweet giggle of them. It wasn't for nothing that Lucifer had come to name them the chaotic duo of the House of Lamentation. They were two parts of a whole.

And yet, the world had dared to separate them. And MC was tired, oh so tired of not having their other half near them. The only feeling they had left, was one of pure desperation to see their greedy demon.

"I'm not asking for much... even a single word would do." MC replied to no one as they turned their head to rest their cheek onto the table. They closed their eyes, the anger slowly being replaced by a profound exhaustion. Could they really do nothing but act normal around Solomon, and accept that this was now their new life? No demons, no angels, just... humans around them?

Before they could slap the thought away, a loud banging coming from the entrance door made them straighten in their seat, their head turning towards the hallway in a panic. Their heart pounded inside their chest as the banging seemed to go on forever, until they used the back of their chair to push themself up, their legs shaking.

"S...Solomon?" They asked, way too silently for anyone to hear, and fully knowing that the person behind the door couldn't be the wizard.

As if they were waiting for an answer, MC stood there, their hand grasped onto the chair. The banging was insistent, demanding, angry. At this time of night, there were few reasons they could think why someone would mistreat their door in such a way, and MC wasn't sure they wanted to find the reason for it.

That is, until the person behind the door finally let their voice be heard.

"Oi, MC! Ya can hear me right?! Come on, open the door!"

It didn't take long for MC to let the familiar voice enter their ears, and it took less time for them to nearly stumble over the chair as their legs moved in a hurry to lead them towards the door as quickly as possible. Their hands messily trying to open the locks on the door, they were sure their mind had just played a trick on them, and the person outside was going to leave them completely disappointed, but they didn't care. This voice they could only remember so well despite the time since they had last heard it, was simply inviting them to open the door, to check for themselves whether it was true, or just a nasty joke played by their brain.

But as the last lock was undone, and the door was swung open, MC couldn't do anything but just stand there, their mouth agape.

Mammon kept on drawing breaths, his wet hair stuck to his forehead and drops of rain falling from his clothes onto the floor below, so much so that it had started to create a small puddle underneath him. As if the person who opened the door wasn't the one he expected, the demon took a step back, letting his eyes wander up and down on the human he had in front of him, almost in an attempt to check if it was really them. He too, couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open at the sight.

The two of them just stood there for a few seconds, taken by so many emotions at once that they weren't sure what to do. But right as Mammon took a step forward, his mouth opening some more to let out words that he so desperately had wanted to say for so long now, MC's face contorted into one of pure sadness before they rushed towards him. Mammon greedily welcomed them into his arms as they jumped and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, and their legs around his waist. They buried their face into his neck, the warmth of their tears mixing with the rain on his skin.

His embrace only tightened even more as they mumbled his name amidst broken sobs, the sound ever so close to his ear that even though he had his eyes firmly closed, he might have cried on the spot too. But he had found them. He had them in his arms again. After what had seemed like a million years, finally, they were back where they belonged, and he was back with his human.

Almost as if they were about to be pulled away from him, Mammon placed a hand on the back of their head, wanting to protect their entire being from harm no matter the cost. He still wasn't sure why it had taken so long for him to reunite with them despite the obstacles, but at the present moment, nothing else could matter.

The lord had finally found them, and he wasn't about to let anyone interfer between their happiness once more.

"I ain't letting you go." He whispered through gritted teeth, his head lowering into their shoulder. "Ever again."

279 notes · View notes