#sandy pitching the home opener

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Also: opening day tickets procured 👼

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (bonus)

alexia putellas x sister

part I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII

it's been well over a month since I finished the last part of like she used to and started this chapter, i'm so sorry for the delay!

a week after i posted the last part i was on a run in the national park near my house and it is between two beaches (literally my favourite run ever) so very sandy and uneven and i was running alone and tore my acl/mcl lol so I have been preoccupied with that stuff.

i'm super fucking pissed as well because i was supposed to have state cross country in a couple weeks (first season in the open group) AND my reconstruction is scheduled for like two weeks before peak surf life saving season so i'll probably miss the whole summer and into autumn AS WELL as the competitions we do throughout the summer.

anyway i had to quit football and dance because of a back injury so if this means i have to quit xc and/or sls i'll be super sad.

rant over and here is a new part of like she used to, a popular request of when elena meets olga

:)

~~~~~~

I was a lot littler when I met Jenni. She was tall and had heaps of tattoos littered around her body. Her arm's weren't dissimilar to Mapi's, but they were better at picking me up - either to restrain me or comfort me.  

The first time I met her was on the pitch, on Mapi's shoulders at the end of a game for Spain. I think I was about 6, too big to be carried around like that, but my resistance was ignored and Mapi had pulled me up anyway. 

She was shouting and chanting as she walked around the pitch, making me squeal in laughter as she tugged on my leg and made joke after joke. She only quietened as we approached a bunch of chatting footballers. I had met most of them before, but Jenni was there, the only one I didn't recognise. 

I distinctly remember Mapi tugging me down and holding me up on her hip, pointing at Jenni. She knew I didn't know her, she knew how anxious I became when I was introduced to new people so she made sure I was secure in her arms, my head pressed against her neck.

"Ah! The baby Putellas!" She smiled at me - that friendly, toothy grin that quickly became so familiar. 

I leant back into the familiarity of Mapi, mumbling my response quietly. 

"Not a baby." 

Mapi had laughed, ruffling my hair and planting a kiss on my head. 

"She is six now. You're so big, mi pequena!"

My gaze never left Jenni, still curious about the unfamiliar woman standing in front of me. Mapi must have noticed, because she continued to speak when nobody else did. 

"Elena, this is Jenni Hermoso. She plays here with Spain and also Barcelona with Ale!"

I nodded, smiling shyly at Jenni. 

"I have seen you at home, Elena, but your sister likes to keep you safe and away from all of us players."

I looked up at Mapi, uncertainty written all over my face. She leaned down to me, whispering in my ear. 

"Jenni is a striker for Barcelona, she plays very well."

"Not as well as you, Mapi!" 

She had chuckled softly, kissing my head again. 

"Tell Jenni that."

I looked back up at the dark haired woman, a shy smile on my face. 

"Mapi plays too! She is a defender. I want to be a defender when I grow up and become just like Mapi."

Jenni chuckled as Mapi adjusted her hold on me, allowing her to pull me closer as she wrapped her arms around me. 

"Who knows. Maybe if you get to know me better you'll grow up to become one of the greatest strikers of all time."

I don't remember what happened next, but both Mapi and Jenni laugh when they retell the story of me scrunching up my nose and shaking my head, confident that defence was the only area I would consider going into. 

From then on, Jenni became a familiar face. One that I would recognise at Alexia's games and approach shyly, blushing as she pulled me up onto her hip and walked me around the pitch. 

It was a welcome surprise when Alexia arrived home from training one night, Jenni right behind her with a bashful smile on her rosy face. She sat beside me at the dinner table, sneaking the food I didn't want to eat and making me laugh by kicking Alexia's leg. 

She quickly established her role in our family, and I quickly realised how much I liked having her around. 

She started to pick me up from school, driving me to my own trainings, kicking the ball with me in the back yard when she got home from her training. She was like another sister and as I grew older I began to confide in her like she was related by blood. 

So when Mami told me they had broken up, I was distraught. It was bad enough that she had moved to Mexico, but when she came back to Spain and didn't visit our house, it felt like I had lost a sister. 

Because that's what she was; a sister. 

Mami or Alba must have told her how upset I was though, because she sent me a text not long after, apologising. 

I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye, pequena. I love you so much and I will miss seeing you all the time. I can't wait to watch you grow into a brilliant defender and I have no doubt you will be just like Mapi like you said you wanted to be all those years ago. I am so proud of you and I am always rooting for you and always here for you if you ever need me. 

I had cried over that message, I hate to admit. But it was when everything started to fall apart; when I was beginning to question everything I knew about myself and my family. My emotions were high and I think Jenni disappearing from my life tipped me over the edge, sending me into a raging ocean, swallowing me and spitting me right back out again. 

It's ok. Spain will miss you. I'll miss you a lot as well. Sorry you couldn't convince me to become a striker like you.

~~~~~~

Meeting Olga is different. 

There's no Mapi holding me, right there to carry me away if I want to leave, to comfort me if something goes wrong or to kiss the top of my head to remind me of her presence. 

There's not much comfort left in Alexia either, she is still trying so hard to build back our relationship but for some reason I am struggling to let her. 

I can't confide in Alba, because she met Olga months ago, when they first got together. Mami thinks she is brilliant. 

Of course I have stalked her instagram, my heart racing as I struggled to understand how my sister went from Jenni Hermoso to this girl. Mapi told me it was bad to compare the two, and bad to judge Olga before meeting her. 

They are friends, Mapi and Olga. She became defensive when I said that I don't care who Alexia is dating anymore, that it won't make any difference to my life anymore. 

She told me that I should give it a try.

I told her I'd do it. I told her I'd do it for her. 

~~~~~~

Ingrid dropped me off at my home, sensing my reluctance to head in and reassuring me it would all be ok, that Olga is great. She told me that if I need, I can just send her a text and she will get me to take me back home. 

They didn't want me to leave their apartment, Mapi and Ingrid. Mapi worries a lot, I have found, and had many lengthy discussions with Mami about my wellbeing, how it had declined so quickly and the crash had slipped right through Mami's eyes. 

"She needs to stay somewhere that she can receive the love and care that she hasn't had, Eli! It's not your fault you are busy, but I am not. I can take care of her while she is still vulnerable and then in a couple months, we can rethink."

I wasn't supposed to be listening to their conversation, but Mapi's temper had been rising and her voice became louder as a result. I closed my door again when she finished, not wanting to hear what Mami had to say. 

I held bagheera hostage and wept into her fur, and she stayed with me all night, still asleep by my side when I woke up the next morning, Mapi knocking on my door with breakfast, ready to confirm that I would be living with her indefinitely. 

She said that she was going to help me and look after me. She said she was always there if I wanted to talk, if I wanted to cry, yell, laugh. She said I was going to be ok with such confidence, like there wasn't a doubt in the world. 

"This will just be a blip, pequena. Everything will be ok soon, and I will be right here making sure that time comes."

But, despite my reluctance, she wouldn't take no for an answer when she found out about this dinner tonight, about meeting Olga. 

They are all already sat around the table when I enter the kitchen, slipping my shoes off and walking over to where Mami is sitting, dutifully planting a kiss on her cheek before moving back to my spot beside Alba. 

"Hola."

Alexia looks at me. Alba looks at me. Mami looks at me. But I am focussed on the new brunette sitting across from Alba, waiting for her to make eye contact. 

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Elena."

She looks up at me hesitantly. 

"I know. I'm Olga. It's nice to meet you too, Elena."

I can almost hear the collective sigh of relief around my dinner table as I sit down, still focussed on Olga. I have nothing left to say though, so I am grateful when Alba picks up a new conversation. 

I provide input when necessary, but I am more focussed on Olga than I would like to admit, my eyes straying over to her a bit too frequently. 

She seems, nervous? Maybe. It could be that she doesn't like the food, the way she is picking away at it. But Mami cooks the greatest paella I've ever eaten, and I've heard from Alba that Olga loves any types of food. 

The other and more likely option is that she's nervous because of my presence, which is an idea I am entirely uncomfortable with. But it is almost confirmed in the way she avoids eye contact through the whole dinner, and I feel deflated as I traipse up the stairs and into my room, sitting on my piano stall for the first time in months. 

It's been almost two months since that day. Two months since I left this house, running as far as I possibly could from the darkness it trapped me in. 

I don't like to think about that day, about how I felt in the days leading up to it and the days after it because how am I supposed think about how I felt when I didn't feel anything?

Things have changed so much since then. I made my debut for Barcelona. My sister apologised. I have started living with Mapi and Ingrid, closer to training. I have stopped going to school after my therapist told me it was too much. Everybody knew that quitting football wasn't an option. 

I haven't touched a piano since that day, so the keys feel cold and unfamiliar underneath my fingers. My chords are dissonant and my rhythms are erratic and unsteady. 

It feels like I have lost my touch, and I can feel that connection I had with my father drift further and further away from me as my fingers continue to improvise. I resort back to the first song he ever taught me, a little nursery rhyme but the familiar notes destroy me in an entirely different way, memories flooding through my head, Papi sat beside me on the stall helping me, my sisters and Mami squished on the tiny office couch behind us, cheering me on and singing along. 

My hands retreat from the piano before I get too frustrated and instead, I let my eyes drift up to the picture that has hung above it since it was moved into my room. 

Shaking hands reach forward to pluck it from my wall, and it sits in my lap, my head dipped as I stare at it, memorising every tiny detail. 

I was so small, wrapped up in my sisters' arms. She looked so excited to have a new baby sister, the smile on her face is unfamiliar to me now. 

Alba is beside her, staring down at my tiny body, as if she was printing the image of me into my memory. Mami is gazing at the camera, smiling with her hand wrapped up in Papi's, her head resting on his shoulder as he stares lovingly at his three daughters, his eyes full of tears. 

I quickly wipe away the tear that drops onto the glass, inhaling softly and letting the air leave me once more. My eyes close and I try not to picture how different my life would be if he hadn't of died, if we were still a happy family of five. 

I wonder sometimes, if he would have let the family divide, form a big crack that could be glued together so many times but never completely fixed. Never back to how it once was, always more sensitive than it should be. 

I don't think he would have. 

At least that's what I tell myself. 

I am still staring down at the picture when there is a soft knock on my door, it creaking quietly as Mami pushes it open. 

"She is very happy to have met you, Elena."

I frown, my eyebrows crinkling. It didn't feel like that. Mami speaks again before I have time to come up with a response. 

"But she doesn't know how to bond with you, because she thinks it is her fault that you and Alexia fell out. She thinks she is the reason that you are so sad."

I shake my head. 

"It was long before she came along."

"I know. I know it was."

She sounds guilty, and I know her well enough to know it is because she wishes she did something early on. She wishes she did something at all, that much she has told me. She regrets leaving Mapi to pick up the pieces and try and glue me back together. 

She knows that Mapi has struggled though, because she does not have enough hands to hold the million pieces that I was shattered into together. She can not do it alone, but is reluctant to let me go somewhere else. 

"This is the best place for you at the moment, pequena. Your Mami and sisters are a phone call away, but I have so much time to make sure you are ok."

I heard her talking to Ingrid that night, telling her how worried she was that if I did go back home, if I went to stay with Alexia or Alba, everything would go back to how it was. 

They had agreed that night that they could provide me with the love and care they think I need, that wasn't given to me at home. 

"Can you tell her that she doesn't need to think that? I don't want her to treat me different to Alba or you."

I turn around to face her and notice the single tear that threatens to fall from her eye. 

She has been emotional recently, ever since she came to Mapi's to see me. She cried a lot then, apologising, telling me she was a terrible mother. Telling me that Papi would be ashamed of her. 

Something tells me she cries a lot when I'm not here, the silence that echoed through the house where loud laughs or cries once sang out swallowing her as she eats, sleeps and sits alone. 

"I think you should talk to her, Elena. It would mean a lot to her and to Alexia. It would make things better for the both of you."

~~~~~~

Mami's words follow me for the next few days. 

When Ingrid picks me up, I force a smile and tell her everything went well. Mapi is harder to convince, but I tell her I am tired and head straight up to bed. 

I think about Olga, what I could say to her. How I would even meet up with her. 

She seems nice, and I do want to get to know her, to get along with her. And I think this is the only way to get past the initial awkwardness. It's not like she would come to me. 

It takes me two weeks to build up the courage to go see her, and the only person who knows is Mami because I had to ask for her address. She was happy, I could tell over the phone, encouraging me that it was the right decision, that I was good for doing this. 

I tell Mapi that I'm going to hang out with an old friend from school, but catch the bus out to Olga's apartment instead. 

She lives in a small Barcelona house, a few steps leading up to the large front door. 

I ignore the nerves that flare up inside me as I walk up the stairs, my hand barely hesitating over the doorbell. 

I resist the urge to run and the door creaking opening is the final confirmation that this conversation is happening now. 

She seems surprised to see me, but her initial shock is quickly masked by an awkward smile as she invites me inside, offering me snacks, drinks, a meal. I decline, perching myself on the edge of her sofa after she sits down. 

She looks at me intently, waiting for me to initiate some sort of conversation, but the words aren't coming out. The words I have been brainstorming for the past two weeks seem to have flown out the window as soon as I entered the apartment, leaving me with nothing to say. 

The length of the silence is verging on the edge of being awkward, and Olga clears her throat and speaks instead. 

"It was nice to meet you the other night, Elena. I had heard so much about you and I have been looking forward to meeting you for so long." 

She beamed at me, and I smiled back sheepishly, still unsure what to say. 

I hesitate for an embarrassingly long time, before words finally come to me. 

"Sorry."

Confusion flashes over her face and her mouth opens to speak, but I beat her to it, elaborating. 

"You were probably looking forward to meeting me and I left as soon as dinner finished."

"It's ok." 

She answered too quickly, and I flickered my eyes towards her. A small smile sat on her face, and she had relaxed into the cushions of the sofa. 

"I have thought about what I wanted to say so many times, but I have forgotten how I wanted to start."

I chuckle sheepishly and she shakes her head. 

"You don't need to worry, Elena. I don't want you to be scared of me, or what I think. I just want to know you, and I want you to know me."

"I- It's just- I don't know. You know about everything that's happened... with me and Alexia?"

She nods hesitantly and opens her mouth to speak but again, I beat her to it. 

"It's not your fault. Like, not at all. Mami said you think that and it's not true. It is a lot older than that, all the way back to when Ale and Jenni first broke up."

I didn't really know what reaction I expected from her, but I did not think she would relax so visibly. Her entire body loses any remaining tension, and she releases a loud, long breath. 

"Thank you, Elena. For saying that. She's told me how much you mean to her and how badly she screwed up. I didn't want to be the reason for that. Mapi has mentioned vaguely how it hurt you, and I didn't want to be the reason for that either."

I shake my head.

"You don't need to worry about it. It's not because of you, and it's getting better now. Slowly. I'll be ok."

"I know you'll be ok." 

Her words come out in a whisper and she continues when I look at her in confusion. 

"I have heard a lot about you, Elena, but most of the time, it is about your strength. Everyone says how strong you are, how resilient. Everyone is so proud of you, of who you've become and it is so hard for them because you are the only one who can't see it. You are the only person who doubts yourself. Alexia blames herself and I blame her too."

Her words hit a chord that hasn't been hit in a long time. People have said that to me so many times, in so many different ways. They tell me I am strong, resilient. That I am a hard worker and that I persevere. Usually, it means nothing to me, just more words that are said out of obligation, to try and please me. 

But Olga's words are full of emotion that I can practically feel radiating off her. She means it, I realise. She isn't saying this to make me feel good, or because Alexia told her to. 

She is telling me this because she wants to, because she wants me to hear it, to understand it. 

"I don't blame Alexia for anything any more."

She shakes her head. 

"You should. Because everyone else knows it is true, that her neglect impacted you in ways that cannot be reversed. Things she did that left marks that will never go away and it will haunt her. It already does. She loves you so much. So much. But sometimes she will start crying and I just know it's because she is thinking about you."

There are tears in her eyes, and there are tears in mine. 

And then the tears slip down my face and she is quick to pull me into a hug. 

"You didn't deserve any of this and I am sorry that I didn't do more to stop this. You tell me it is not my fault, but I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. And for that, I will blame myself."

I shake my head again.

"It was not your responsibility."

But I know she knows that, I know what she is trying to say. 

And maybe if she had done something, said something, things would be different. 

But the cracks were already there and they would have remained no matter when Alexia came to apologise. 

I am in a good place. 

Alexia and I will be in a good place soon.

There is nothing anyone can do to change what happened. 

"Thank you for being there for Ale. I know she's had a hard time too."

~~~~~~

lol hope you enjoyed (this has barely been edited so will probably go through it in the morning again)

i'm not kidding this chapter has taken me so so long and I really don't like it but i have written, edited, deleted and rewritten for so long so this is the best we're getting for now

if anyone has any other requests for this fic or an entirely new one let me know!

i have ideas for a new fic coming though so we'll see when I get round to finishing one of those chapters :)

[yorshie]

APPY SLICES

Bayverse turtles x fem reader

Turtle fluff, kinda petty jealousy, nothing sexual

Second Person, no Y/N.

Inspired by a pinterest post I saw about having an office turtle and the punch line was "does the big man want his appy slices?" and it just snowballed from there

Aged up turtles

Your first vacation in a year, and you were stuck with a house guest for part of it.

Well, sort of a house guest.

You stared at the plastic kiddie pool taking up half of the living room, shoved between your TV and the L shaped desk you used as a work space. A sandy colored shell moved slowly around as Romeo explored his temporary digs, the large tortoise taking everything in with long, slow blinks.

“Boy, does your mother owe me one,” You informed him lowly, shaking out tired arms that still ached from carrying the large cat carrier up the stairwell. “Though, I guess she should be worried you won’t wanna go home on Monday. After all,” you leaned down, watched as Romeo turned those large, multicolored eyes in your direction, “I seem to have a growing collection of turtles.”

He let out a loud huff, the air whistling through his nostrils, and you snorted. “Sorry, tortoise, though I’m pretty sure the rest are turtles.”

He turned back to ignoring you, making slow movement towards the heat lamp you had attached to the back of a stool and swung over a part of his pad earlier per his owner’s instructions.

You hummed, watching him, then glanced over at your phone when it dinged from the couch.

Orange Crush: Hey babycakes, we still good to come get you after patrol? Donnie got ahold of that movie you wanted to see.

Uh oh. You bit at your nail absently, thinking, then typed back:

You guys are welcome to stop by, but I might have put a snag in movie night. I’ve got a house guest I have no idea what to do with.

You hit send, waited a beat, then hit accept before the phone even rang, expecting Leo’s name.

“Everything good?”

You decided not to comment on the speed dial. “Yea, everything’s fine. I’ve just… got a house guest.”

A beat of silence, “are you in danger?”

You frowned, stared across the room at Romeo, then had a light bulb moment as you replayed what was said. “Oh, god, Leo, no I’m fine! This isn’t a ‘help, there’s someone in my apartment’ type of thing.”

“Well that’s good,” he breathed, and you could hear his dry humor creeping in, “Though you almost gave Raph a heart attack just now.”

“Spiders almost give Raph a heart attack,” you deadpanned back. “But seriously, I’m just babysitting a pet for a friend. Um… actually.” You squinted at the tortoise sunning himself. “Don’t- don’t be weird when you guys get here.”

A longer beat of silence. “O-kay.” The word was drawn out. “We’ll be over in ten.” He hung up before you could squawk about cutting their patrol short, and you were left holding the phone comically to your ear.

Romeo chose that moment to let out a questioning chirp, his beak opening and clicking shut.

You turned your attention back to him. “Hm? You hungry, big boy? Let me go get your food.”

You got Romeo his salad, watching with slight amusement as he once again slowly moved toward the plate of offerings next to his sunken water bowl, high pitched chirps coming from him as he started to eat.

A light tap at your window pulled your attention, and you crawled over the couch to unlock the window, letting Leo do the heavy lifting to actually get it open.

“Heeeyyy,” You said, smiling brightly, trying to block the view behind you while leaning against the frame.

Leo rolled his eyes, “hey yourself. You gonna let us in?”

You pursed your lips, looking over the four of them crammed onto the fire escape, Donnie half hanging off the railing as he avoided Raph’s shell. You held up a finger threateningly. “Don’t be weird.”

You heard Raph scoff as you moved to press against the couch cushions, letting them step in over the furniture. “‘Don’t be weird’ she says to the mutant turtles.”

“Uh.” Leo pulled up short, one foot still on the couch, letting Mikey bounce off his shell as he noticed the kiddie pool.

Romeo looked up from the salad, took in the towering turtles staring back, and let out a low grumble that somehow managed to thrum through the room.

“Wow. That’s impressive.” You popped up on the couch, leaned over the arm, watching as the four turtles spread out a little, all still eyeing the kiddie pool.

“Sheesh, that’s nothing, babycakes,” Mikey said over his shoulder as he backed to the side to perch on the couch next to you, baby blues fastened on the tortoise like he’d disappear if he blinked. “That little rumble ain’t got nothing on Raph in the morning.”

“Huh. Really?” You glanced at the red turtle, but he shrugged, moving towards the kitchen counter and the cans of soda you’d set out while waiting for them.

“It ain't nothin special, sweetheart. How long you watchin mr. grumpy pants?”

Leo still hadn’t moved from his spot half on the couch, and with a huff Donnie pushed past him, the only one to take a step closer to the kiddie pool and crouch down to get a closer look.

“I have Romeo until Monday morning.” You tried not to sound too intrigued with what was happening, or not happening, but you probably failed judging by the quick look Raph threw your way, slight smirk curling his mouth as he watched you peer between Romeo and Donnie.

The tortoise had one eye on Donnie and the other on Leo, his head swiveled to the side to keep them both in sight as the ominous grumble sounded once more.

“Oh, goodness.” Donnie chuckled, perched as close to the plastic lip as he could get without touching the tortoise’s turf.

Raph whistled, long and low, as the noise lowered deeper until it was a threatening burr. Romeo snapped his beak at the sudden noise from Raph.

“Ok. What’s happening?” You asked, looking from Mikey to Raph for answers.

Mikey winced, fingers drumming out a fast staccato on his bent knees, so you turned your question to Raph, who simply shrugged.

“Donnie,” you whined, and heard him hum in answer. “What’s with the weirdness?”

“Oh, well, I suppose we’re making him a little uncomfortable.” He supplied, twisting around to address you from over Leo’s hip. Romeo let out an angry hiss, and Donnie swayed back out of sight. “Oops.”

“Now you done it,” Raph joked. “Touched the big man’s pool.”

“So I should have coached him instead of you guys?” You smirked, the notion that the bigger turtles were all being trash talked by Romeo amusing.

“Eh, probably wouldn’t have changed much,” Donnie chirped back at you, pulling another threatening beak snap from Romeo.

Raph chuckled. “Careful, Don. He might think you’re after his girl.”

“Oh so now I’m part of the problem?” You put as much sarcasm into the query as you could, moving to sit up on the couch, swaying into Leo’s space.

“Sure.” Leo answered, finally moving his foot off the couch as you brushed against him. “Bunch of big ugly rivals come into his place, touch his home, chirp at his girl. I’d be pissed too.”

“Would you?” You tried not to sound too amused, hand coming up to press against your mouth at the uptick in Leo’s cheek even as his gaze was kept on the tortoise. “So is he gonna get even more cranky if I leave with his ‘rivals’?”

“I’m sure he’ll live,” Raph pushed away from the counter, snapped his fingers under Donnie’s glasses. “Genius, quit harassing the poor dude. He’s stuck in a pool, we get to go watch a movie with his girl. Don’t rub it in.”

“Pretty sure I’ve known you guys longer than him,” You kicked out at Raph playfully as he passed close, connecting with his thigh and making him sway to avoid the pressure. “Think that makes him the interloper.”

“Ah, ok, I see how it is, you’re our girl. You want us to avenge your honor, teach this creep a lesson?” He jerked his head toward Romeo, grabbing your foot with ease as you went to kick at him again. You let out a quick giggle, jerked your foot away from his grip, leaning towards Mikey for protection as Raph made a grab for your retreating foot again.

“Hey, it’s all good babycakes, I’ll hide you from your loverboy’s rival.” Mikey lifted his arm, flashing the charm as he let you wedge yourself between his shell and the couch, feet tucked in the cushions where the larger brother couldn’t reach.

“We better get going before we rile your house guest up even more,” Leo commented, ignoring the playful banter as he stepped sideways out of Raph’s way. “You have everything you need?”

You hummed, twitching further behind Mikey as you felt the youngest brother’s fingers reach back and ghost your far side. “My bag’s in my room. Obviously, I’m gonna have to come check on Romeo tomorrow, but I think he’ll be ok for the night.”

“Especially if he doesn’t have to deal with us,” Donnie added, straightening and stepping around the pool to head down the short hallway leading to your room.

“Oh, shoot, hold on. Can’t forget.” You popped out from behind Mikey, wildly grabbing onto Leo’s arm to steady yourself as you overcorrected on the couch cushion. His forearm tensed under your hand, giving you something steady to push off of as you headed for the counter.

As you turned around with an apple and a knife, Mikey gasped. “He gets appy slices?”

“Yup, every Friday.” You responded, not looking up as you carefully started cubing the fruit.

“He’s get a treat after being an ass?” Raph sounded incredulous, and you blinked, looking up finally to find all three bigger turtles staring at the apple in your hand.

You took in the various looks of envy and mild offense, and reached behind you for the bag with the rest of the apples. “Do… do you guys want some?”

Donnie rounded the corner at that moment, stopping so hard his shoe squeaked on the floor. “He gets appy slices?”

“O-kay.” You pulled the word out long and slow, conscious that they were tracking you and the dish of apple cubes across the room to the kiddie pool. It had to be your imagination, but Romeo almost looked smug as he hurried over for the treat you set down.

Behind you, Raph made a noise of disgust deep in his throat, and you fought to keep the smile from your face as Mikey echoed the sentiment.

“I promise,” You rose and turned to face them, “I will bring the whole bag and make you guys as many appy slices as you want tonight.”

Raph took the few steps to the kitchen, grabbed the bag of apples, and crossed back over to the couch and window. His brow raised as though daring you to laugh as Mikey opened the glass and hopped out onto the fire escape.

You fought it successfully until Leo purposely bumped into you, a gentle reminder to get moving, and you followed Donnie out into the chilly air, careful as you pulled yourself over the edge of the window.

Donnie offered you a hand, grip cool and firm as he tugged you up the flight of stairs and passed you off to Raph, whose arms you curled into as he picked you up effortlessly.

“Where’s Fearless?” He asked, stepping up to glance back over the edge, and you gripped tighter as the buildings swelled down to meet the street.

Leo stuck his head out of your window as though summoned, taking a moment to close the latch before he scaled up to where the others were waiting. At Raph’s questioning look, he huffed, the lights catching briefly on his teeth.

“Just reminding Romeo down there that he’s only a house guest.”

You blinked, your face going loose with shock, “Leonardo, did you growl at that poor tortoise?”

The only answer you got was a smug smirk, and Mikey’s bright belt of laughter.

Much later, in the lair, you sat slumped in the middle of the couch, fingers sticky as you peeled yet another apple. You didn’t even bother to lean forward as you offered a slice over the edge. You weren’t sure how they knew it was there, the only light coming from the soft jewel tones of the older movie on the big screen, but the slice was always accepted, much larger fingers grazing your palm the only indication. 

You smiled, and cut off another slice.

[sillysillygoofygoose]

A Beach day with Nanami Kento Part Two!

MDNI!!! EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!

Cw: Smut, breeding, daddy kink (only once), small mention of death.

Thank you all for your love on the first part 💕

Link to Part One!!

Previously:

"You'd be a good mama. I wove you." He says softly, you melt, touched by how appreciative he is.

Kento let's out an audible 'aw'.

"Love you too, Jiji." You respond, rubbing his back soothingly.

Kento was fighting his tongue not to repeat Yuji's words to you.

...

After a couple of hours in the blazing sun, Yuji decided that he was ready to go and ready to go now. The boy aggressively throws down the small plastic shovel that he was previously using to pack down the top of his crumbling sand castle, catching the attention of both you and Kento.

"Ughhh, I wanna be home. Dada, Y/N, can we please go?? It sooo hot." He stomps away, abandoning the small kingdom the three of you had just spent the upper part of forty-five minutes building. You hear Kento sigh, watching as his little boy hurriedly grabs scattered towels, angerily stuffing them into the open beach bag.

"Yuji, honey, please calm down." You reason, beginning to stand up and dust off the sand that stuck to your sunscreen-slicked legs.

In his small fit of rage, Yuji stubs his toe on the metalic support pole of the beach umbrella, falling backward dramatically. He tilts his small head back and begins full on sobbing, the pain in his little toe and the rough sand coating his body being the cherry on top for his building agitation.

"Alright." Kento breaths out, collecting the toys that built the mighty Nanami Empire.

Nanami Kento is a very patient man. However, one of his greatest pitfalls as a father is that he can not stand crying children. The high-pitched screams make him want to pull on his ears until they detach from the side of his skull. Luckily, that's where you came in. You fit into the equation like a missing puzzle piece.

You hike over to the small child, who is now looking up at you, big puppy dog eyes evident of exhaustion, tears streaking his chubby cheeks.

His stubby arms reach out for you, cries increasing in volume. You grab him off the sandy floor, hushing him quietly, bouncing him up and down softly. He clings onto you like his life depends on it, quickly calming down, sobs turning into soft sniffles.

Kento looks up from reorganizing the bag, shocked. How does she do it? God, how perfect can a woman be? Even when Yuji was throwing a completely blown out of proportion temper tantrum (as toddlers do), you didn't even huff, gently embracing the emotional boy.

Nanami smiled, relieved that his son found comfort and quieted down. He finishes packing up the rest of your items, walking over to his favorite pair. Yuji had passed out on your shoulder, a ghost of a smile present on his sleeping face. You're leaning your head on the smaller figure, the essence of a kind mother radiating off of the loving image.

Kento rests his hand on your upper back, catching your attention. You meet his eyes, staring into the honey brown souls.

"You really are so perfect for us. Such a beautiful girl, too." He smoothly expresses, for once in his life, speaking before thinking. Before calculating.

"You really think so?" You whisper, gazing softly at his lips.

"Mhm." He responds, beginning to lean in...

"Mama?" You hear a small mumble from your chest, tearing your focus away from the man next to you. Yuji is still dead asleep, slightly smacking his lips before nuzzling deeper into your neck.

"He must be dreaming about you... come. Let's get him home." Kento snaps back to reality, starting to grab the heaves of crap he somehow has to transport back to the car. You lightly pat Yuji on the back, almost as a 'Gee, thanks kid'.

...

The ride back to the Nanami residence was silent for the most part, both you and Kento just as tired out as Yuji. You felt yourself slightly drifting off when Nanami's large hand landed on your mid thigh. All you remember was gripping onto one of his long fingers before falling asleep yourself.

You woke on a suede couch, the fabric cool on your skin. You take in the familiar surroundings of the luxury condo, wrapped in a blanket that is busy combating the cool air conditioning.

"Oh good, you're awake." Kento walks into the spacely living room, two cups of tea in hand. He handed one to you before sitting across from you, studying your tired face.

"Don't worry, he's fed, showered, and asleep upstairs." Nanami smiles, picking up on the small look of worry present on your angelic features. He heard a small sigh of relief as you delicately lift the fragile, hand painted porcelain to your begonia-shaded lips.

"Thank you again, Kento. I really did have fun. You two are so special to me." It's Kento's turn to blush, his name rolling off your tongue like it was made to say it.

"Of course. You're really special yourself... you'd be a wonderful mother in the future. Have you ever thought about having your own kids?" Kento took a chance with the slightly personal question.

You look up at him, once again holding eye contact. Something in the tone of his was different. Almost suggestive, enticing to you.

"Uhm, yeah, yeah, actually. I would love to have kids." You stutter out, slightly taken a back.

"How many?" Rapid fire questions. Are you being interviewed for the job again?

"Hm, I'm not really sure. I think that's something that would come with time." You respond, unsure. Kento hums, seemly pleased with your answer. However, you have your own questions.

"Mr. Nana- I mean, Kento... what happened to Yuji's mother? If you don't mind me asking." A deep sigh exits the older man's mouth, making you immediately regret your question.

"Never mind, I'm so sorry... that was extremely inappropriate of me to ask." You immediately backtrack, covering your mouth, deciding you should've just stayed curious.

"No, no, don't apologize. It's alright. We separated before we knew she was pregnant with Yuji. We tried to make it work, but the flaws always overshadowed the strengths. She... she passed during childbirth. It really was a shame." Kento explains solemnly, clearing his throat as his eyes focus on the tea leaves left in his cup.

"Oh, I see. I really am sorry, Kento... sorry for your loss." Feeling your face drop, you quietly express your sympathy, the air around you thickens, becoming suffocating.

"It's quite alright. We get along just fine, don't you think?" He offers up a small smile, warming up the cool room. You nod, bowing your head as he takes your empty cup from your hand, walking it to the kitchen sink.

"You still look sleepy, let's head to bed, okay?" He turns, reassuringly rubbing your shoulder, guiding you to stand up. You furrow your brows, looking over your shoulder at the discarded blanket and pillow on the large couch.

"Don't be silly, you're not going to sleep on the couch... it's not good for your back. You can join me in bed. If that's alright with you, of course." Reading your thoughts before you even articulated them. You simply nodded again, still shaken up from the small feeling of guilt deep in your stomach.

...

Kento lended you a baby blue, oversized night shirt, watching as you walked out of the bathroom suite, the fabric falling almost to your knees. Your hair was still damp and slightly strewn after washing the smell of sunscreen and salt water off of your tired body. You looked as beautiful as ever to him.

The two of you crawl into the crisp sheets set atop of the memory foam mattress.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Kento speaks into the muted atmosphere of the shared king-sized bed.

"Goodnight. See you in the morning." You mumble, eyelids heavy and fighting to stay open.

...

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of a harsh beeping ringing out in the restful ambiance of the room. Eying the angry alarm clock, you attempt to sit up, stopped by a heavy weight on your waist. Kento has his strong arms wrapped around you, face nuzzled into your back. You shift in his arms, body heating up as his grip tightens at your scurrying. You gently glide your fingers through his blonde, disheveled locks, grazing your nails gently across his scalp.

"Kento... Kento, it's time to wake up." Your hand travels from his head to his neck and down to his muscular bicep, shaking him awake. He sits up, freeing you of his warm embrace, reading the alarm clock... four a.m.

Pushing multiple buttons, he stops the blaring alarm before laying right back down, pulling your back even closer to his bare chest.

"Kento, you need to get ready for work." You remind him, gently squeezing his forearm.

"Mmm, I know. Just lay with me, Y/N, baby. Just for a bit." He slightly presses his hips against yours, punctuating his request with his prominent bulge. You feel yourself clench around nothing as he groans, the pressure in his sweatpants building.

"Do you... do you want me to help you with that, Mr. Nanami?" Your voice shaking, anxious that you somehow got the wrong idea. He hums, moving your hand from his forearm to his growing erection.

You turn around in his arms, taking in his sharp features as you begin palming him through his thin sweatpants before completely pulling out his length. He looked unreal. Strong eyes softened, half lidded in pleasure. His normally stoic expression is broken, mouth hanging open, cheekbones tinted pink. Your fingertips lightly grazed the tip, sending sensations of euphoria through his still drowsy body. Slowly, you lower your head, keeping your eyes on his blissed-out expressions. You place kitten licks all over the head of his cock, each lick becoming progressively more lengthy. Before he can blink, you're taking his entire length down your throat, feeling each thick vein on your tongue.

His dick is just as gorgeous as he is. He was average length, but he made up for it in thickness. Your tiny hand can barely grip around the whole thing. The shaft a shade darker than his light tan skin, the head a blush pink. One prominent vein travels completely from the base, stopping right before his tip.

You bob your head up and down, small, muffled chokes escaping from your throat. Sucking in your cheeks, you create a strong suction around his member, making him buck his hips and moan.

"Oh fuck, Y/N. Stop, stop, stop, I'm gonna cum." Kento hurriedly blurts out. You try to keep your mouth on him, but he laces his strong fingers through your messy hair, pulling you off his dick with a 'pop'. You pout, eager to feel his cum hit your taste buds.

"C'mon baby girl, don't you want me to cum inside you?" He slurs, sitting up. You nod as he flips you over, hovering over you. His nimble fingers circle your clit, the cotton fabric of your panties sticking to your wet pussy. Wasting no time, he pulls the soiled fabric down your soft legs, almost salivating at the flower blooming between your spread legs.

"How about I give you your babies now, huh? Make you a pretty little mommy..." Kento whispers, nipping at your ear as he slides his erection up and down your aching cunt.

"Ah, please, please, Daddy, give me a baby. I want you to breed me. I need you."

That was all Nanami needed, pushing his fat dick inside your desperate pussy. He lets out a deep guttural groan, only for it to clash with your heavenly moan. You prop your legs up over his broad shoulders as he grips onto your hips, pushing himself as deep as he can reach. Your velvety walls entice him to snap his hips into yours harder, pounding you into the mattress.

"Fuck, wanted this for so long, sweetheart. So. Fucking. Long. You feel incredible, baby." He moans, trying to keep his breath steady. The two of you were in pleasured bliss together, the skin on skin contact overwhelming. You have found your nirvana.

"Oh Kento, you fuck me so good. God, I'm going to- I'm going to..." You throw your head back, clinging onto his shoulders.

"Go ahead, pretty. Cum for me." He cups your cheek, forcing you to gaze lustfully into his sharp honey eyes.

Everything goes white as the headboard bangs against the wall, Nanami fucking you through your orgasm. He follows close after you, the feeling of your soaking cunt clenching around him sending him over the edge.

He pushed your legs to your chest as he pulled out, holding onto your feet, hypnotized by the sight of his thick, white, creamy cum oozing out of your swollen pussy.

Licking his lips, he collected his own cum on his tongue, moving up to your fucked-out face. You open your mouth wide, allowing his tongue to intrude, mixing the combination of his cum and spit in your mouth.

He kissed your forehead, leading you to the bathroom, giving you privacy as he allowed you to take care of your business.

You settle back into bed, slipping on Kento's shirt as he went to shower, his rough fucking tiring you out.

You hear the bedroom door squeak open, revealing a small boy, hair sticking up in five different directions.

"Dada? What was that bang? Did something fall owver?.. Oh, good morwning, Y/N!" Yuji ran over to you, jumping onto the bed and cuddling into your side, quickly forgetting about the sound that startled him awake.

"Good morning, sweetie!" You held his small hand, disregarding his prior remarks.

...

Nanami steps out of the bathroom, a towel hanging from his wide hips. His heart melts at the sight in front of him... you and Yuji deep asleep, holding each other. He walks over to the two of you, big hands engulfing both of your smaller heads. His kisses both of your foreheads before getting dressed for work.

~Four year time skip~

"Mom, Mama! Hurry up! You have to see what Daddy taught me!" Yuji excitedly exclaims, running toward the ocean the second you reached the beach. You place your hand on your prominent baby bump, struggling to walk on the shifty sand under you.

"You doing okay, sweetheart?" Your husband Kento supports your back as he holds your hand, following your kid to the shore.

"Never been better." You respond, waddling along.

Eventually, you reach where your son was skimboarding on the thin waves crashing under his toes. He falls but quickly gets up, waving at you and his father. You both wave back like proud parents, smiling at your pride and joy. Kento pulls you close to him by your rounded waist, kissing the top of your head. You rest your head on his chest, smiling up at him. He smiles back.

[noel-fielding-web-page]

‘The fact that I’m still here is amazing’: Noel Fielding on Bake Off, booze and the Boosh

He has gone from cult niche to smash hit and he still can’t believe it. As Bake Off returns, the comic talks about his ‘feral’ upbringing, his party years – and the day Hammond fell out of a hammock

Noel Fielding’s highlight of the new series of The Great British Bake Off wasn’t a show-stopping cake. In fact, it wasn’t any type of baked goods. It wasn’t even a shot of a squirrel with outsized testicles. It was his co-host Alison Hammond falling out of a hammock.

“I’ll never be able to unsee it,” he says. “What I love about Alison – and I mean this with the greatest of respect – is that she’s an absolute klutz. If anyone’s going to fall out of a hammock, it’ll be her. She also fell backwards off one of the workbenches while showing off. Don’t worry, she was OK. No Hammonds were harmed in the making of this series.”

As the autumnal fixture returns to our screens, Fielding promises a 15th series on peak form. “It’s a belter,” he says. “There are some very special bakers in the tent this year. Somehow the standard keeps getting higher. These unbelievable young bakers are way better than they should be for their age. It’s a vintage year. One of the best yet.”

By stealth, the surrealist goth has become a Bake Off veteran. This is Fielding’s eighth series at the helm, meaning he’s now served a longer stint than original hosts Mel Giedroyc and Sue Perkins. “Who knew that was going to happen?” he marvels. “Maybe Paul Hollywood’s hypnotised me. I can’t escape the tractor beam of those blue eyes. I loved that original lineup, with Mary [Berry], Mel and Sue, as much as anyone. When me and Sandi [Toksvig] took over, we were terrified. We knew it was a massive risk. We said: ‘Let’s see if we can last one series.’ The fact that I’m still here is amazing.”

A family affair? … (from left) Fielding, Alison Hammond, Paul Hollywood and Prue Leith. Photograph: Mark Bourdillon/Channel 4

Toksvig later admitted “I felt my brain atrophying” after three series of glazes and ganaches. How does Fielding keep it fresh? “Sandi, as we know, is a massive brain. She went to Cambridge, she’s super-smart, she writes, she does politics, she needs to be stimulated. She never stays anywhere too long, except QI which is the perfect show for her. The difference between us is that I’ve always really enjoyed hanging out with the bakers. I befriend them and get them to open up. Nobody expected that to be my strength. I assumed it’d be the sketches and banter. In fact, I’m fascinated by the people. I feel protective of them. If Paul and Prue [Leith] are hard on them, I’m absolutely livid. It’s devastating when they leave. This year I was particularly fond of one baker. When I had to send them home, I cried.”

Hammond is his third co-host. “It feels like I’ve done three different shows,” he says. “First with Sandi, under enormous pressure but we pulled it off. Then with Matt [Lucas], which was a privilege because he’s a comedy genius. Now I’m enjoying it more than ever. Alison’s not a comedian, so she’s not as neurotic about jokes as I am, but she’s a brilliant improviser and instinctively funny. She slotted right in. Paul and Prue are very fond of her. Even my kids adore her. We’re having a blast.”

Judges and presenters refer to “the Bake Off stone” – a tendency to gain weight during each 10-week run. In her sophomore series, Hammond valiantly attempted to resist. “She tried to eat less this year but Alison’s quite childlike. She said: ‘Noel, stop me eating cake, I want to be good.’ The next time I saw her, she was literally like [he mimes shovelling in cake]. Alison has a good time all the time. You don’t want her to not be eating the cakes.”

Fielding, now 51, had a “feral” upbringing in Croydon. Hammond was raised in a Birmingham council house. He relishes these “two working-class kids galloping around Welford Park”, the Grade I-listed Berkshire estate where the marquee is pitched each summer. “If you’ve grown up in a working-class environment and go to a stately home, you’re like: ‘Woah! This is like Willy Wonka’s factory.’ We’re like urchins in front of Dame Prue. I permanently feel like I’ve come to sweep Prue’s chimney.” He describes Bake Off’s star quartet as “a funny old family”. Who’s who? “Prue and Paul are Mum and Dad, obviously. Alison’s the wild daughter. I reckon I’m the cat. Or am I the dog? Paul would say I’m the teenage son who’s secretly a vampire.”

‘We knew it was a massive risk’ … Fielding with Sandi Toksvig on the 12th series of The Great British Bake Off. Photograph: Channel 4/Love Productions/Mark Bourdillon/PA

The last time we spoke, Fielding reflected on his 00s era as a hedonistic scenester. “I took partying to its logical conclusion,” he said. “When you’ve been partying with Kate Moss and Courtney Love, you’ve gone as far as you can go. A few friends ended up in rehab. I was sick of partying anyway and lucky enough to have my family at the right time [he has two daughters with wife Lliana Bird]. It was like: ‘This is what I was looking for!’”

He returns to the theme today, pondering how Bake Off arrived at the right time. “When I got this job, I’d just had my first child, I was painting a lot and had a different lifestyle. This show fitted that phase. You want to match your career to where you are in life. It’s mainstream, family-friendly and my kids love it, so it suits me. I love not partying – and I never thought I’d say that.”

A fellow comic turned artist provides career inspiration. “I’d love to concentrate on art more as I get older. I love what Vic Reeves [Jim Moir] is doing, making art documentaries and his Painting Birds series. Vic and Bob [Mortimer] were a big influence on me. Now he looks genuinely happy. I’d love to do something similar.”

Claudia Winkleman jokes that she gets mistaken for Fielding. Does it happen the other way round? “I did see a trailer for The Traitors out of the corner of my eye and go: ‘I swear I didn’t film that.’ But no, Claudia looks like a beautiful 60s model. I look like a melted candle. A wax model of Roy Orbison that’s been left too near the radiator. It’s flattering for me but harsh on her.”

Earlier this year, Fielding scored a streaming hit with The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin. After wrapping filming on Bake Off, he’s off to shoot the highwayman sitcom’s second series. Has he learned to ride a horse? “I can get on and off, that’s all I need. Luckily it’s a comedy, so I don’t need to look impressive. One thing I enjoyed was that it’s made by Apple, so there’s a bit of a budget. With The [Mighty] Boosh, it was always a financial struggle to bring your vision to life. If you do fantastical stuff, you’re forever going: ‘We want an underwater race with people riding porpoises but that’d be all the budget gone.’ We’d end up using bits of animation to work around it. With Apple, they go: ‘Yeah, we can do that. Fine, let’s blow up a carriage.’ I’m like: ‘What, really? It won’t be a model?’”

He has formed an unlikely double act with Hugh Bonneville, who plays Dick’s thief-catching nemesis. “You can never predict who you’ll have chemistry with. I’ve learned a lot from Hugh. He’s a really skilful comic actor. And Mark Heap, who plays my dad, has the best timing of anyone ever.” As well as starring, Fielding has a writing credit. In the pilot episode, Heap tells him: “You always were a bit weird. Drawing, coming up with funny ideas, wearing strange outfits.” Was that line autobiographical? “I did write that scene, yeah,” admits Fielding.

Slice of history … Fielding (left) with his Mighty Boosh co-star Julian Barratt Photograph: Martin Argles/The Guardian

He also drew the amusingly rubbish “Wanted” posters that appear in the show. “I’d send them to the director and he’d go: ‘No, not bad enough, do another, make it more ridiculous!’ I’d end up doing them left-handed in about 10 seconds.” There’s even a role for his brother Michael, who played Naboo in The Mighty Boosh: “I put my brother in everything I can. He’s not only very funny but it means I get to hang out with him all day.”

While we’re on the Boosh, was he aware that this year marks the 20th anniversary of the comedy troupe’s TV incarnation? “Does it? Oh wow. Me and Julian [Barratt, his comedy partner] were proud of everything the Boosh did – the live shows, radio series, TV show. We probably should have made a film. People wanted more and that would’ve been a nice way to finish. Julian’s the funniest person I’ve ever worked with, hands down.” Of today’s comedy crop, he rates James Acaster highly.

Would the duo ever reform? “What we had together was so special. Comedy double acts are such rare beasts, like unicorns. I’ll probably never meet anyone like that again but I loved it while it lasted. We stopped at the right time, before the quality dipped. The Boosh was all-consuming, like being in a band. It’s difficult to recreate that when you’re older. You don’t have the same drive and energy. As much as I’d love to get back together, I wouldn’t want to do something that wasn’t as good.”

Going from Boosh to Bake Off has been an unexpected journey. “When the Boosh ended, because it had been a cult hit, I wanted to make something more avant garde and experimental to satisfy my art school side. So I did [Channel 4 sketch series] Luxury Comedy. After that, I didn’t know what to do with myself, then Bake Off came along. It was a huge curveball for me. I love that it’s old-fashioned TV. Millions watch it weekly. People come up and talk to me about the latest episode. It feels like being part of British culture. There’s so much choice now, thousands of shows on streaming, but shows like Strictly, Gogglebox and Bake Off somehow still cut through.”

After dismal weather all series, the sun even came out for this year’s final. “It had been raining and storming but as soon as we went to announce the winner, sunshine started beaming down.” Fielding grins. “Bake Off’s like that. There’s something magical about it.”

Guardian, 14.09.2024

[wheels-of-despair]

@oneforthemunny's one-derful year The Title: The Big Three The Eddie: Dom!Eddie The Prompt: Revisit The Greatest Horny Hours Ever The Summary: A certain bratty reader finds herself reliving a familiar situation with Dom!Eddie... or three. The Words: 3k Youths and ageless blogs, Do Not Interact. I will block your ass.

It had been a pleasant evening.

After a few hours of shopping at the mall in the next town over, you and Eddie had stopped for dinner at a nice little restaurant nearby. Your waitress was sweet - a grandmotherly type - and the food was great. Eddie didn't even complain when you ordered a salad and proceeded to pick at his "real food".

Until he got up to pay the check, and you saw her.

That bitch Sandy.

The reason you never went to that cute little Woodstock-themed restaurant in Hawkins ever again. She'd practically drooled over Eddie, flirted with him right in front of you, shoved her tits in his face. And he didn't even fucking stop her.

You'd fought about it on the way home, and he'd pulled the van over and pulled off his belt in an embarrassing event that you mentally refer to as The Mel's Parking Lot Incident. Both your face and your ass burned at the memory of it.

And here she is again. Still dressed like a cheap hooker. Tying on an apron that was longer than her slutty little skirt.

"Oh, hey, baby! It's so nice to see you again! Still got that beautiful hair!" She reaches out and runs her glittery talons through Eddie's hair. YOUR Eddie's hair. The asshole smiles and mumbles something that makes her giggle. You rise out of your seat and stomp toward them with your fists and your jaw clenched. You're going to fucking kill her this time.

He hears you coming.

"No."

You keep walking, and he places himself in your path.

"No."

You growl and try to step around him. In any other situation, he might laugh, but in front of his whore, he grabs your arms to hold you still.

"Van. Now." He puts his keys in your hand and marches you to the door and pushes you out of it. He stands there, inside the door, guarding it for a second, until you stamp your foot in defeat and march toward the van, parked just a few steps away.

You unlock the passenger door and climb in and watch through the windshield as he drops a few bills on the table for your waitress and picks up the purse you'd forgotten about. He smiles and says something to that bitch behind the counter on his way out.

You're LIVID.

He steps outside, and his smile drops when his eyes settle on you. He tries to open his door, but you haven't unlocked it yet. He taps on the window. You fix him with a glare and cross your arms.

"Unlock the fucking door."

You roll your eyes and reach across to pull up on the lock. Not because he told you to. Because you're ready to give him a piece of your mind. He hops in and slams the door, dropping your purse on your lap.

"Keys."

You throw them at him.

They hit his arm and drop into the floorboard with a jingle. Instead of reaching for them, he slowly turns to you.

"You remember what happened last time you pitched a fit over her?"

You want to reply with a real zinger, something that'll make his jaw drop. But the memory of The Mel's Parking Lot Incident silences you.

"Pick 'em up."

You seethe.

"Pick 'em up, or I'm gonna come over there and give all these fine people a show."

You look through the diner's windows at all the people eating… and see HER. Staring at you. Bet seeing Eddie punish you because of HER would make that bitch's fucking year. You reach for the keys and drop them in his lap, then face your window with your arms crossed.

Eddie starts the van and backs out of the spot. A few minutes of driving passes in tense silence.

"What's your fucking problem?" he asks after a while.

"You're my fucking problem."

"I'm gonna be if you don't quit acting like a little bitch."

You're the bitch? Your rage bubbles.

"So did you know she was working there? Is that why we went there? Did she blow you when you went to the bathroom? Or did you slip out back and fuck her against the dumpster?"

"What the fuck?!"

"Fuck you! " you yell. "And your ugly whore, too!"

Eddie laughs. LAUGHS.

You pick up your purse and throw it at him. It's the closest thing in reach. He swerves and slams on the brakes. Your seatbelt keeps you from hitting the dash. The things you'd bought at the mall and stashed in the back go flying. A pack of brightly colored bath beads flies by you and spills into the floorboard by your feet. The van comes to a shuddering stop in the middle of the quiet road. Shit.

You look from the mess to Eddie's red face. You can see the vein pulsating in his neck.

"Alright."

Shit.

Eddie changes gears and keeps driving, scanning the side of the road for a place to pull off. You've done it. You're not going to be able to sit for a fucking week. And it's all that fucking whore's fault.

Eddie finds a forgotten driveway that looks like it leads to nowhere and pulls the van into it. How far does this go? Has he been here before? If you run, how long will it take for him to catch you? How much worse will it be? Your thighs clench. Your nails dig into the seat. Finally, the van comes to a stop. You look around, wondering if people can still see you from the road.

Eddie turns off the ignition, gets out, and stomps around the front of the van. His face is red. His jaw is clenched. You're going to get it.

So you lock your door before he can yank it open.

He looks from the handle up to you with fury on his face.

"Unlock. The. Door."

You shake your head.

Eddie glares for a second, then walks back around the front to his side. You reach over and lock that too. The keys are still in the ignition. You'll let him in when he calms down.

"You're playing a dangerous game, little girl," he growls through the glass. His tone makes the heat pool between your legs.

"Are you gonna say the word, or are you just being a fucking brat?"

You know the word he means. But you don't feel like it's the right time to use it. You stick your tongue out at him. What's he gonna do, break his own window?

He disappears. The back? Can he get in the back? No, the back is always locked, because he keeps his band equipment in there.

You frantically look from mirror to mirror, wondering where he'd gone to. Is there a secret Flintstones hole in the bottom he can climb though? What's he doing? You're leaning over to look out the back window when you hear a click coming from your door.

Fuck. The spare key he hides by the back tire.

He's got your door open before you can flee out the driver's side. You slip on one of the bath beads and fall over the seat.

"No you don't," he grunts, grabbing your ankle.

"Eddie, I'm sorry!"

"You're gonna be," he growls, pulling you to him.

Your feet hit the ground, but they're not there for long. He sticks his boot on the edge of the doorframe and props a leg up and tosses you over it, holding you in place with a strong arm around your waist. You dangle helplessly as he flips your dress up and starts smacking.

"Ow!" Slap! "Eddie!" Smack! "I'm sorry!" You kick out in protest, and he responds by shifting you further over his thigh and smacking harder. You try to brace yourself on the side of the van, to get at least some kind of leverage so you're not flopping around helplessly, but it's useless. You can't do anything but flail and cry.

And then, before you know it, you're standing upright again. You bounce back against the door as you get your bearings.

You look at him bashfully. You bat your teary eyes, hoping he'll just tell you to get back in the van.

"Go pick me a switch."

"Eddieeee," you whine.

"Plenty to choose from. Make it a good one."

"It's not my fault!" You stamp your foot again. "It's HERS!"

Eddie starts to roll his eyes, but they land on something in the van.

The new wooden bath brush he'd picked out at Bed Bath & Beyond had fallen out of its bag. Eddie had spotted it on a clearance shelf, picked it up, and smacked it on his hand to test it. The crack echoed through the store and made your thighs clench. He'd smirked and placed it in your basket. You'd had to carry it around for the rest of your shopping trip, wondering if everyone else knew what it was really going to be used for.

It had seemed fun and sexy at the time.

When he reaches for the bath brush with one hand and you with the other, like he knew you would try to run, you quickly change your mind.

He tosses you back over his thigh and starts bringing that big wooden brush down on your ass. You squirm and whine as the burn sets in. Eddie stops for a second, and you think it's over... until he yanks your panties down to your knees. You whine, but he just keeps going. The wood cracks so loudly against your bare skin, you're sure all the wildlife has fled the vicinity in terror. You cry in protest and humiliation at being bared out here in the open, but he doesn't stop spanking until you give in and quiet down.

"You gonna be good now?"

"Yeah," you sniffle, wishing there was more of a cool breeze on your ass right now. Your panties had slid down your legs at some point and landed in a crumple on the ground. You hadn't noticed until just now.

"Yeah?" he asks with another hard smack.

"Yes, sir," you correct yourself.

"Good girl." He puts you back on your feet. "Now go pick me a switch."

"Eddie, I said I'd be good," you whine.

"Then go pick me a fucking switch."

You huff and stomp away and pick a fucking switch, strip it of its leaves, and bring it back to him.

"Hands on the side of the van."

You glare at his stupid van and flatten your hands against it.

"Spread your legs."

You spread your legs.

He steps closer and pulls your short dress up, bunching it up and tucking it in so it won't be in his way.

"Stick that ass out."

You bend over further and give him his target.

SWISH.

The first strike isn't so--

SWISH!

BAD!

The switch swishes through the air so quickly, you're glad you weren't asked to count. You cry and shift your weight and try to avoid the stinging lashes setting your ass on fire until he steps closer and grabs you around the waist.

"Stay still," he orders over his shoulder. He keeps his arm wrapped around your waist, pinning you to his side as the switch keeps flying.

You try to obey, but it's so hard. By the time Eddie's done switching you, he's got his jean-covered leg between yours to keep you from lurching forward to escape the sting, and you're pretty sure there will be a wet spot when he releases you.

He drops the switch and gives your burning rear a rub, and you sigh, thinking it's over.

"Alright, hands back on the van," he orders with a light smack to your right cheek.

"What?" you ask, eyeliner streaming down your face. He reaches for his belt buckle, and you sob. "Eddie, I'm sorryyy."

Eddie unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops, never breaking eye contact with you. He folds the leather in half and holds it up and jerks it with a loud SNAP. You flinch at the sound. He lifts his hand and makes a twirling motion that means "turn around."

You do what he wants. Hands on the van, legs spread, ass out.

"Count."

You take a deep breath and brace for--CRACK.

"One!"

CRACK!

"Two," you cry as the belt lays another stripe.

"Three, four," on your already-tender sit-spots.

"Five!" on the left.

"Six!" on the right.

"Seven, eight!" stripes the tops of your thighs.

"NINE!" and "TEN!" set your whole ass on fire.

You lean your weight on your hands against the van, praying that he won't go to twenty. But through your sobs, you hear him shushing you as he rubs his hand across your sore ass.

"You got somethin' to say to me?" he rumbles in your ear, his breath hot on your neck.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For being a brat."

"And?"

You want to stomp on his foot, but you know better.

"And being jealous of that whore."

He smacks your exposed rear with his hand.

"Of that GIRL."

"Better. Anything else?"

"I'm sorry for locking you out of the van and not listening and for being a bad girl," you say quickly, hoping that'll cover it all.

Eddie laughs and dips a finger between your still-spread legs.

"Well shit, if I didn't know better, I'd say you enjoyed that. You like being punished? Like it when I have to spank the brat out of you?"

He slides a finger inside of you, and you have no reply but a moan. You arch your back and spread yourself more for him, hoping he'll add another finger or two. He pumps in and out a few times and starts to circle your clit. You're so close, you can almost--

"Shame there's no dumpster out here to fuck you against," he says, pulling his hand away. You whine. He gives your ass another slap with his sticky hand. "Guess you'll just have to blow me. On your knees."

You salivate at the command and turn quickly to drop to your knees on the grass, reaching for his zipper eagerly. He lets you do all the work, not making a move until he's in your mouth. His hand comes to rest on the back of your head, and you respond with a moan around his shaft.

It doesn't take him long to finish.

"Alright, back in the van," he smirks as he zips up.

"Eddieee," you whine, rubbing your thighs together from your position on the ground.

"Oh, did you want to get off too?"

You wrap yourself around his leg and look up at him with the best puppy eyes you can muster. You must be quite a sight; you know your eyes are red and your eyeliner's running. But you want him in you so fucking bad you don't care about anything else. You'll ride his boot if you have to. If you just shift a little--

"Too bad," he says simply, wrapping his fingers around your upper arm and helping you stand. Before you can protest, he guides you back to the passenger door and helps you into your seat. You hiss when your ass makes contact, and he smirks as he leans over to buckle your seatbelt. You glare down at the bath brush in the floorboard instead of at him.

"Is that how bad girls ride home?"

You look down at yourself, wondering what you've done wrong.

Eddie reaches in and tugs your dress out from under you so that your ass makes direct contact with the cracked leather seat. You'd forgotten about this part of The Mel's Parking Lot Incident. How the hard surface adds heat, and the cracks dig into your tender flesh.

When the van rumbles to life and backs out of the bumpy road, it's like being punished all over again. The paved highway is a smoother ride, but still extremely unpleasant.

You know better than to lift up. Last time, you got caned for it. But maybe if you put your hands on the seat and put your weight on them, it would help take the pressure off…

"Get those hands on your head."

"Won't that look weird when people pass us?" you ask hopefully, mad at him for seeing what you were doing immediately, and mad at yourself for even trying.

"Don't care. Do it."

You pout and put your hands up, the full weight of your burning ass pressing down on that cracked seat from hell.

You were so relieved when Eddie pulled into the driveway. You were nearly free. You'd behaved on the way home, so he wouldn't cane you this time; he'd probably take you inside and cool you off with some lotion and bend you over something so he could admire his work as he plowed into you. You unbuckle your seatbelt and carefully climb out, where he's waiting for you.

"Pick up all those bath beads."

You turn around to start picking up those colorful little beads from the floor, quickly and without protest because you want to get inside and get fucked right now. You feel a breeze. He's lifted up your dress and tucked it in again. Your striped, burning ass is on display for the whole neighborhood.

"Eddie!"

"What?"

"People will see!"

"Better hurry up then," he says, unbothered. He stands behind you, partially blocking the view, but making you feel so exposed… and dirty… and so wet, you're seconds away from dripping.

You stuff the bath beads back into the flimsy plastic box they fell out of as quickly as you can. Eddie opens the side door and stands guard as you re-bag all the things that had scattered after he slammed on the brakes.

When everything is finally back in a bag, Eddie reaches out and lets your dress back down. You both grab an armful of shopping bags, he slams the van's doors closed, and he follows you into the house.

Now it's time for the fun part.

[hannie-dul-set]

sunwater [teaser].

SYNOPSIS. this is how you get a merman boyfriend.

PAIRING. park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. merman! sunghoon, artist! reader, slight college! au, strangers to lovers, romance, modern fantasy, humor, suggestive. WARNINGS. swearning, drowning, dirty/inappropriate jokes, mentions of sex, things might get a lil spicy but No Explicit Smut, mermaid politics, reader says and does a lot of questionable shit (might add more as i progress!) WORD COUNT. full fic: est. 20k more or less. teaser: 1.3k RELEASE DATE. late july to early august.

NOTE. finally thought of a title last night and immediately made the header so i can post the teaser HAUHASDH. stemmed from a convo with a friend of mine (i quote "u reject every man woman person that tries to date u. little do they know, ur type isn't human 🤩").

anyway, send me an ask/dm to be added to the taglist! preview under the cut.

GANGNEUNG-SI, GANGWON-DO. The drive to the east coast is always nostalgic, like fragments of previous summers are powdered into the air and with every inhale of the breeze outside the car window fills you with the past— scraped knees from the rocky beachside, saltwater daydreams under bunny-shaped clouds, and the smell of paint and the sea melting together in early morning dews. It takes a little over an hour for the cab to roll up to your summer neighborhood. It takes twenty minutes of walking to get to your family’s vacation house situated right beside the sea.

“Welcome home.”

Your words echo in the empty living room and your own voice greets you with remembrance. A smile crawls onto your lips. Eggshell walls, sandy brown wooden panels, your favorite blue sofa matching the stripes on the rug underneath it, and the sheer cream curtains painted with the orange spills of the sunset through wall to ceiling windows— it’s a still life painting of last year’s summer. Prior to that, you still had plants around, but they kept dying, getting replaced and dying again until your neglectful guilt finally hit you. Throughout highschool, your family diligently spent time here every December and July. Now, it’s just you every summer and the caretaker that comes by every few months.

“I should call mom after dinner,” you hum, washing the dishes you found in the cupboards. Your first night here always ends early. By sunfall, you have a quick meal, wash up, tuck yourself into bed upstairs and allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by the sloshing waves of the nighttime sea. 

Four in the morning is when you start to feel alive.

The first thing you do upon waking up, pitch black sky with the sun still hiding behind the oceanline, you grab one of the bags you left on your living room sofa, slinging it over your shoulder before picking up a folded up easel leaned against the wall and two of the blank canvas panels stacked beside it. Your body moves mechanically, practiced and familiar movements— sliding the glass door open to the backyard and closing, feeling the sand wither underneath your bare soles until soft grains blend into jagged stone as you climb up the natural staircase of rocks, leading up to a solid flat plateau.

Is it safe to be painting on top of a cliff when you’ve just woken up? No. Have you been doing this every day since you were fourteen every summer you spend at your vacation home? Yes. 

When the sun starts to rise, you become invigorated with life that it almost feels like rebirth.

You haven’t fallen to your death yet, and you don’t have any plans to slip and succumb to its cold hands any time soon. Not until you manage to perfectly capture the image before your eyes at this very moment; neither your memories nor your imperfect renditions can compare to the vibrancy of the orange stained waves, the clarity white seafoam kissing its surface, and the beauty of flaming disk peeking from the firmament where the sky meets the sea in all its ephemeral glory.

It’s five-thirty when the sun fully emerges from the water. Your legs give in, and you fall onto the rocky ground with a sigh. All you could finish is the underpaint today. You’ll continue working tomorrow. 

Whenever someone asks you— why the fuck are you doing this? you never have a satisfying answer. It’s an exercise, it’s a routine; it’s the only time when I feel like I’m painting something worthwhile. You have countless pieces in galleries and exhibits, meaningless works with the highest praises from your professors, but they’re nothing worth the buzz of your fingertips whenever you chase the sunrise with your own paint-stained hands until it inevitably, ritualistically flies beyond your devoted reach.

The strain in your leg muscles takes forever to recover. You should remember to bring a stool tomorrow because although you don’t feel anything besides adrenaline whenever you attack the canvas with your brush, the aftertaste can be a little brutal. 

“Can’t you stay a little longer tomorrow?” you mumble to the orange tinted sky as you lay on the uneven ground, arms and legs spread out in vulnerability. When it doesn’t respond, you groan and pull yourself up. You could leave your painting materials here, but the probability of them getting thrown into the ocean by the wind is too high for your peace of mind.

As you collect your paint brushes and gather your extra paint tubes, your eyes keep getting pulled by the ocean’s songs. The scene before you has been imprinted in your retinas since you were seven. So when something appears amiss or changes, you can pick it apart immediately. A shift in the tides. A crack in the rock formation. Even a floating piece of driftwood from afar can’t slip away from your attention.

So when you find something— rather, someone emerging from the warm blue near the sprouting rocks, you drop your things and pace quickly to the edge to get a better look.

This is odd. This entire plot of land is private property, and it’s the only way to get into the water besides the island across it, which is still at least twenty miles away. Your eyebrows furrow, wondering how they got here, but when you get to the edge of the cliff, the rough terrain biting into your feet, your concerns are suddenly thrown into the water underneath you.

You can see the intruder’s face clearly now. Whoever he is, he’s breathtaking.

He’s gotten closer to the shore, resting his arms on the inky rock, half submerged into blue depths. The saltwater beads glisten like jewels on his porcelain skin, splashing sunlight into the water when he throws his head back before letting the ocean consume him once more. There’s a flicker of gold that splashes above the surface in a steady rhythmic wave, slowly moving further away.

You have found your new ocean sunrise. You don’t intend on letting him get away.

Splash!

Suddenly, all the warmth from your skin is stripped away as your body sinks into the sea, engulfed by the thick raptures of its waves. Though having been enamored by it for the better part of your life, you have never stepped into the ocean’s embrace— never dared to corrupt its ethereal beauty with your feeble humanity— that is, until now. You slowly feel heavier, and each second hurts more than the last, like the sun itself has entered your lungs and is burning you from the inside. Maybe you should have learned how to swim. Maybe you shouldn’t have jumped off the cliff in the rushing hopes of catching a fleeting stranger’s attention.

No one should underestimate the lengths an artist would go for their art. Just when your consciousness starts to slip, you see a spark in the dark water, slowly approaching before your eyelids flutter to a close. You can hear nothing. You feel nothing but the cold, until all of the sudden you’re gasping, coughing out water from your lungs and the jagged rock you’re laying on sinks its teeth into your wet palms.

There’s one person who could have saved you. You can’t believe your deranged plan worked.

You open your eyes and look above, your still beating heart burning into a frenzy and instead of the sunrise sky, your gaze meets a pair of stygian gemstones muddled with concern. A few droplets of water from his damp hair fall onto your cheeks. 

“Are you okay?”

Burnt stars form a constellation on his face. His lips are full and painted by coral hues. 

“I want to burn you in my memory.”

He’s even more breathtaking up close, it’s almost impossible to believe. Your gaze draws down, noticing how you’re caged between his arms, noticing the patchy waist bag loosely hanging on his bare hips over a makeshift skirt of fabric, noticing the iridescent gold flakes blending into his skin, shimmering under the sunlight from where his lower half should be.

You flit your eyes back up. His are now widened in panic.

Splash!

sunwater. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[star-dust-stuf]

Luke Skywalker x fem!reader

title: dear stranger, heal my soul

warnings: some cursing

a/n: I can't believe I didn't do this earlier! the reader first meets Luke. I absolutely love this. sorry for typos, with love.

-

My hands were dry and my eyes burned, I was in something hot, it burned my bare arms and fingertips. I was in sand, R2 beeping beside me mostly buried in the sand as well. I lifted myself, panting and sweating, I brushed off the access sand on my dress and my hair. 

"What happened?" I breathe. R2 beeped, he sounded a bit mad. "Okay, okay. I'll get you out." 

I approached him and dug him out, though it was easy for me to do I could understand why it was hard for him, he had no limbs. "Do you know where we are?" I asked, looking around. There was sand surrounding us. 

R2 stuck out his little satellite, he was beeping for longer than a couple seconds before turning to me and beeping some more. "Tatoonie? I have no idea what kind of planet this is but I don't like it at all." I brushed some more sand from my hair. 

I knew we wouldnt make it anywhere if we didn't walk, so as we did R2 followed. I was surprised he could move through the sand just fine and it was a relief I didn't have to drack a droid that probably weighed more than me through the hot sand. I was already sweating quite a bit before we even walked through a valley, yes mostly, of not all sand.

"I can't R2, it's far too hot." I lean up against a rock, sweat glisning on my face. R2 beeped. "Well, no I don't want to die obviously, but where the hell are we going??" 

He beeped, I sighed and stood back up. We continue through that valley but before we made it out there were small creatures with hoods and small little gears beside them. One of them aming them at R2. They shot it and it seemed to have eleticuted him, sending bolts that shut him down. 

Then they aimed it at me, I had no time to get away from it. It shocked me and I fell to the sandy ground, passed out. Possibly the next day, I woke up in a transport? The transport was shaky and there were a lot of droids in there. All shut down or possibly broken. I was scared but I was able to find R2. That was until they opened the doors. I was dizzy and my body still feeling the twinge. 

The creatures, whom has their own language opened up the large door, the sun peering Im that was too bright for my eyes. They dragged R2 out and me with him, along with other droids. There were tons more of those little creatures. When they pulled me out back onto the sand, I was squinting, the sun too bright for my eyes have not adjusted.

When I was able to peek through my eyelids I saw a small little... Rock? No... A home? And two people heading my way, one was slightly shorter than the other and had blonde hair, he was a lot more faster than the taller one. His voice was soft and sounded kind. But once he got close he was much taller than I expected.

"Uncle Owen?" His voice lit up my ears but I was unable to open my eyes completely.

Another male voice came from the distance as hs approached. "What is it, Luke?"

"Is that a girl? A human girl?" Luke was pointing to me. Owen was a little shocked and spoke with one of the creatures. 

"What's this? You sell me droids, you don't pick up human beings." Owens voice sounds almodt furious. 

The creature spoke, it's voice was higher in pitch. It sounds to me like absolute gibberish. Owen waved him off, "yeah, I'll take her." 

Luke stepped close to me, he placed his hand on my shoulder. "Hey, you alright?" I was still unable to open my eyes completely, my body feeling the past shock. "Uncle Owen? She doesn't look so good." He spoke to his Uncle who was twelve feet away. 

Owen nods to Luke, "yes, take her inside." 

I managed to speak to the boy, Luke. "And R2..." 

R2 rolled up beside me, Luke thought for a moment but then nodded. He didn't want to waist time keeping me out here any longer. He led me up to The Lars Homestead, taking me down the steps and entering a room. Luke led me to the step above the other door that led back outside and sat me on the floor. 

"There, I'll see what I can do about your eyes and then I'll clean your droid." His voice was softer, it was a lot cooler in the room, shady and neat, some beeping and buckling assuming it was some other stuff behind me. I was rubbing my eyes.

"Don't rub them. You'll make them worse." He kneeled down to me and placed his hand on my forehead, letting his thumb lift my eyelid. "Being in that Sandcrawler for a whole night might have messed with your eyes. Not to mention you must have gotten some sand in them." 

He grabbed a small cup of water, "put your head back and try to open your eyes, im going to flush them a little, I promise it won't hurt too badly." He was kind. And I listened, I was sick of not seeing.

When I put my head back he poured water over them, making my face get a little wet in the process, I wince. "Ow!" 

He nods and smirks, "not too bad." I blinked a little before I was able to open them a little more than before, I saw his beautiful face, his blue eyes and blonde hair, his first white clothes and his soft cheeks. He smiled a little, "better?" 

I nod, "thank you... I suppose I already got your name. Luke."

He chuckles and nods, "what's your name?"

"Y/n." My voice was a little scratchy, he nods and heads to R2, all dirty and I didn't notice till now, now that my eyes are open completely.

Luke grabs a small tool and and scraped off some of his dents. "Where are you from? You don't look like you're from here at all." He laughed a little.

"I was actually on a ship with my brother, I was trying to fix something and R2 was helping me, I guess I pulled a wrong switch and the floor opened and we fell through, luckily the sand broke our fall."

Luke was intrigued, "you have a brother?"

I nodded, "his name is Han Solo. Gosh he's gonna kill me when he finds out I was dumb enough to pull some stupid wires." 

Luke chuckles. "Yeah, good luck with that." 

"I mean I guess i'll find him here. He was here for something about paying dept, he never really told me. But he wanted to go to the Cantina. You know where that is?"

Luke nods, "a little ways, it's not a nice area to be in though." 

I nod a little. "Been there?" 

"Not since I my friend Biggs left Tatooine. Hes an ace pilot." 

"Oh. How interesting. He left recently?" I asked, hoping I wasn't getting into something too sensitive. 

Luke nods, "I'm glad he left though. He always dreamt of leaving Tatoonie." 

"Are you able to take me to the Cantina? I might have a chance of finding my brother, he might even be looking for me." I tried to stand up.

Luke stood up and tried to sit me back down. "You should sit down for a bit. I'll get you some water. I bet those Jawas used an ion blaster on you?"

"Jawas?" I chuckled.

Luke smiled, "yeah, I suppose they did hit you with it, huh? Still feeling a little tingly?" I nod, he nods in return. "Sit for a bit longer, you won't be able to function right after a hit of those things."

He stood up and left the room only for a minute to get me some water. He returned and handed it to me. "I'll clean your droid and see how you do after that. If you're alright I'll take you to Mos Eisley. That's where the Cantina is." 

I nod in return drinking the water as Luke got back to cleaning R2. He was beeping and making all kinds of noises. "Gee, he's a noisy little guy isn't he." Luke smiled. 

After a bit and R2 was all clean, Luke helped me up, dustinf off some sand from my shoulders and my hair, as he did I just realized how hand he is, his blue eyes sparked in the little light and his hair was all glossy. He smiled before he held one of my arms and spoke. 

"Let's see if you can really take a first step." I started a little wobbly but I put one foot forward, I wasnt as trembling as I was when I walked in here, and my eyes where completely open now. "Good, you're almost back to normal. Just try not to run for whatever reason that might be."

He walked me back up the steps to the sandy ground, the two suns shining over us. Luke walked up to his uncle, speaking. "She's got a brother whos in Mos Eisley, can I take her?" Luke leaned up on the table over the small tarp. 

His uncle glanced at me and back at him, "fine, take your landspeeder and don't wonder around there, don't go in any shops and don't buy anything. And most certainly do not lose her. Got it?"

Luke nods, waving him off and walked back to me. "Yes, Uncle Owen." He rolled his eyes playfully at me as sign his uncle is always so stricked. 

He walked me around the Homestead and to his landspeeder, definitely more rusty that R2 was before he cleaned him. "And this'll get us there?" 

Luke smiled and he hopped, gesturing I do too, so I did. "It's fast, I promise." 

He wasn't wrong, when we took off I felt an adrenaline but it felt good, my heart was going and so was my blood, there was a warm breeze, R2 in the back. Once we got it to the town it was filled with different kinds of creatures, some I've seen before and some I have not.

But once we did make it there we had to get off his landspeeder, I didn't ask why. He seemed like he knew where he was going. And had a glint in his eyes when he heard some jazzy music playing.

"This way." He held my hand a little just so he didn't lose me. I felt heartwarming by it, the small gestures. 

He led me into the Cantina. Music a bit louder that I thought. "Okay, just stay by me and we'll look for your brother, make sure R2 follows." 

I nodded. He held my hand as we walked through the crowd of creatures and some humans. It smelled like a stuffy room, interesting drinks and the different smells of different things. Luke let me look around but only if I was with him, then... There was a loud fire of a heavy blaster pistol echoed in the Cantina. Me and Luke turned to the sound as a long with the other people and creatures who went silent.

We didn't want to make a move till they went back to what they were doing, as so they did. And when we approached where the sound came from I saw Han, sitting there, his blaster had smoke beaming out of it, his legs crossed but his eyes grew wide when he saw me. "You little rebel!" He stood up and approached me, looking at Luke as well. 

"What the hell did you do??" He sounded pissed. 

"I was trying to buckle in R2 and then-." Han cut me off. 

"Yeah, lie to me another day sweetheart."

I sigh, "I was trying to fix the hyperdrive and I pulled the wrong wire and... I fell through one of the hatches. R2 with me." 

Han chuckled, "I told you not to touch a thing, you can't even fix a damn light!" 

"To be fair, you broke that light." I wasn't as pissed as him, just hoping he wouldnt embarrass me in front of Luke.

"And who's this?" Han smirked at Luke, Luke saw his intentions clearly and looked at him with contempt. 

"Luke Skywalker." Luke held out his hand to shake Hans. 

Han smirks. "Your new boyfriend?" he ignored his hand and Luke rolled his eyes in return.

I grew defensive, "no Han, he actually helped me thank you very much!"

Luke couldnt help but laugh a little, he crossed his arms. R2 beeped. "Oh, surprised you didn't lose R2!"

I gave him a smug look, "you underestimate me sometimes." 

He laughed a little, "you're my little sister, what you expect, more?"

Luke spoke up, "whyd you fire your pistol." He seems like he wanted the bickering to stop.

"Oh, just some unfinished business, kid." Han put his pistol on his side.

Lukes eyes almost light up like a child's joy when he saw the pistol. "Is that a DL-44!?" Han looks at him for a moment, Luke clears his throat. "Not because I'm interested or anything." 

"Right, you just keep your thoughts to yourself okay?" Han patted his shoulder, his smile was sarcastic. 

[scotianostra]

The rugby player and commentator Gordon Lamont Brown was born on the 1st November 1947.

Known quite simply as Broon fae Troon, Brown was from a sporting family, his elder brother Peter also played for and captained the Scottish side. His father, John played goalkeeper for the Scottish football side and also appeared in the Scottish Open at Royal Troon alongside golfing greats such as Arnold Palmer. He is also the nephew of footballers Tom and Jim Brown.

Broon was a legendary Scotland second row and a fully-paid up component of the Mean Machine; a triple Lion and fierce competitor in the Battle of Boet Erasmus; a ruthless assassin on the pitch and a true gentleman off the field of play.

early interest was in the round rather than the oval ball. His conversion was reportedly the result of a particularly heated football tie, after which he reckoned ‘rugby would be safer’! He emerged on to the international stage in December 1969, from West of Scotland, having just turned 22.

After a winning debut against South Africa, he retained his place for the Five Nations opener against France. Dropped for the subsequent Wales match, he was replaced by brother Peter who revelled in breaking the news to Gordon. Peter was then injured in the match – and replaced at half-time by his younger sibling; the first occasion where a brother had replaced a brother in an international. When the Browns joined forces against England in 1970, it was the first time brothers had played together for Scotland since Angus and Donald Cameron in 1902.

Immovable in the scrum yet dynamic in the loose, Gordon went onto cement his place in Scotland’s front five of the early 1970s, the formidable Mean Machine that also featured Ian McLauchlan, Frank Laidlaw, Sandy Carmichael and Alastair McHarg. Between 1971 and 1976, Scotland lost just once at home, a narrow defeat to the All Blacks.

A giant of a man, both physically and figuratively, he formed a key partnership in the blue jersey with McHarg, winning 30 caps; in a Lions shirt, he was one of the world’s most ruthless competitors. Not only could he move but his outstanding handling skills resulted in eight tries on the Lions’ 1974 venture – including the brutal Battle of Boet Erasmus – a record for a forward. He played in eight Lions’ Tests between 1971 and 1977, playing a major part in the 1971 and 1974 victories. A string of injuries ended his career, but not before an infamous incident in a match between Glasgow and the North-Midlands, he was suspended for three months after getting into a fight with Allan Hardie, in which Brown chased Hardie, threw him to the ground and kicked him. Prior to this, Hardie had kneed Brown in the face and proceed to stamp on the open wound on Brown's brow after the initial attack went unnoticed by the referee. The suspension meant that he missed three internationals and was banned from training at any rugby club.

The hardest battle came two decades later, with the diagnosis of non- Hodgkin’s lymphoma. A battler to the end, he died in 2001, aged just 53.

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Finn stays at Mostro Lounge after closing to enjoy the quiet, and Jade gifts him a mysterious box to open only on his birthday

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)

After Hours

It was wonderful after hours.

Mostro was at its best after closing, that Finn could guarantee.

The music had been turned off and every customer and member of staff had left, leaving the small restaurant to relax in a glorious bout of silence. It was dim, only illuminated by the glow the glass wall looking out onto the colourful sea beyond.

Finally alone, Finn closed his eyes and sighed in content. He was seated at one of the tables facing the glass wall, revelling in the rare peace he had been granted.

This is why he was always the person who locked up the lounge at night. Once everyone leaves, he takes a seat by the glass wall and just... enjoys his peace.

Phone switched off in his pocket, earphones neatly packed away and hat and coat discarded. Alone and revelling in the silence.

Next time he would be sure to bring his painting equipment. He wouldn't mind fending off Azul's requests to sell his work if he got to enjoy a night of painting in such a perfect environment.

....Maybe he would paint the lounge itself and charge Azul to use it as advertising. Just maybe.

Thoughts of deals and money were distant in his mind, though. He was too happy, too floaty, to consider any of that.

He was going to savour this more than he ever had before. Tomorrow was birthday, after all, and it was going to get loud.

Sitting here in the dark surrounded by water, Finn was overcome by a wave of nostalgia. This almost reminded him of home.

But it wasn't home.

Mostro Lounge after closing was close enough. Better than nothing. Better than the loud hubbub in the Octavinelle common lounge, filled with lights and excitedly chatting students.

Oh, how Finn missed home.

The current rippling through his hair. The comforting pressure of the deep sea. Being surrounded by a heavy silence and pitch black darkness as he darted in and out of seaweed and chased crabs across the sandy ocean floor.

But he wasn't home. He was on land. It was dry, bright, and loud. Finn would've hated it if it weren't for the opportunity to fly and view the natural wonders that could not be found in the ocean.

Then the sudden sound of footsteps ripped Finn from his paradise and he sprang out of his seat, scanning the vacant lounge with sharp amethyst eyes.

"Oya, did I frighten you? My apologies."

Finn's posture relaxed slightly at the familiar voice of Jade, and he turned his head to find the eel in question making his way towards him with an amused smile on his face.

"No- no you didn't, I was just surprised." Finn let out a sigh. "I didn't know you were still here."

Jade hummed and came to a stop in front of Finn, heterochromatic eyes gleaming in the low light.

"I was making sure Azul wasn't staying late in his office again. Luckily this time he has gone to bed early."

"Oh that's good." Finn sighed. "I was concerned about him. Azul always works so hard, he really... needs to... to..."

He trailed off as his still sleepy brain slowly registered the fact that Jade was closer now, leaning forwards slightly and gazing at him with an indecipherable expression.

Finn stammered and blood rushed to his cheeks at the sudden closeness.

"You always stay here late after closing." Jade said softly. "You look so peaceful, staring through the glass the glass like that. You don't notice I'm there most of the time, not even when I leave. What are you thinking about, I wonder?"

"I-" Finn flushed further as Jade tilted his head at him curiously. "I was just enjoying the quiet. And thinking about home."

"Oh I see." Jade nodded slowly and his expression shifted to one of understanding. "I miss home as as well. So many fond memories."

A pause.

"I remember trying to find you in the kelp forests when we were younger, but you darted away too quickly for us. How mean you were."

Finn huffed. "Well its no fault of mine that I get the wrong idea when you're four times my size and suddenly lunging at me. I didn't know you wanted to play."

A smirk flashed across his face. "Besides, it's not like you tried very hard. Your whole posse stopped short the moment I got onto Papa's territory."

"Floyd and I wished to continue." Jade's voice was lamenting. "However the "friends" we were trapped with for the day were afraid to cross the boundary. They said they... what was it now... did not want to be 'butchered'."

Finn stifled a laugh. "They thought that? How ridiculous."

"Indeed." Jade was grinning now, his teeth glinting in the light. "We all know you would much rather eat them as they are."

"Jade!" Finn lightly pushed at the eel's shoulder. "Don't act as if you wouldn't eat them raw too."

Jade's soft chuckles echoed through the empty room, reverberating off the walls and making Finn's poor heart flutter.

"Hmm true. It truly is best like that. No shame to Mr Clearcove's practice, of course, he has the best meat in the Coral Sea. I imagine he'll be sending you some five star cuts for your birthday tomorrow?"

"Oh most certainly." Finn said with a smile. "I look forward to it."

"Lovely."

There was brief silence before Jade spoke again.

"I have something else for you to look forward to tomorrow."

Finn lifted an eyebrow as Jade procured a small wooden box from seemingly nowhere. It was dark oak with glittering gold hinges and... butterflies etched into the wood around the frame.

"Oh my." He mouthed as Jade presented it to him, blinking owlishly.

"Please, open this when you wake up tomorrow morning." Jade's voice softened to a whisper, like he was telling a secret. "And... don't share it. It is for your eyes only."

Finn took the box from Jade with wide eyes, looking at it incredulously before looking back at Jade.

"For me?"

Jade nodded. "For you."

"Oh... thank you so much, Jade!' Before Finn could stop himself, his lips stretched into a wide smile, putting every single one of his teeth on display.

His eyes widened when he realised his error and he slapped a hand over his mouth, mumbling a sheepish apology.

He was taken off guard by Jade gently taking hold of his wrist and pulling it away, leaning in so close their noses were almost touching.

"Don't be so ashamed." He breathed. "Your teeth are beautiful."

"W-wha-" Finn's ability to speak abandoned him suddenly, rendering him stupefied. "You- my-"

Without warning Jade suddenly straightened again, pulling his face away. He tipped his fedora at Finn and smiled that placid Jade smile.

"I must be going now. I have some bioluminiscent mushrooms to observe. Have a good night, Finn."

Finn uttered a weak, slightly confused "You too" as Jade disappeared out the doors, and just like that he was alone once more.

His heart was beating so fast he was afraid it would leap out of his mouth and he gripped the box so tightly his knuckles were surely turning white under his gloves.

The box was so exquisite Finn dreaded the price tag. It was smooth and cool under his fingers, the grooves of the butterfly markings giving a delightful dip in the surface.

He wanted to know what was inside so so badly. He bit his lip and steepled his fingers to stop himself from opening it.

It was a gift from Jade. It could be anything, really. It could be the most innocent little brooch or mushroom in the world or the most dangerous plant the eel could possibly find.

Whatever it was, Finn knew it would be a surprise. Jade always kept him on his toes with his eccentric ways and Finn loved him so much for it.

Finn sighed to himself and held the box to his chest. His little bubble had been shattered long ago, so he might as well lock up for the night.

He double checked the kitchen to make sure everything was powered off, closed it up and then exited the lounge, locking the door behind him.

Finn barely registered the walk back to his dorm room, his brain all fogged up thinking about Jade. Handsome, intelligent, eccentric Jade~

He was quiet as a mouse when he entered his room, careful not to wake his roommate as he undressed and got into bed.

Finn placed the box on the side table next his bed and smiled to himself.

He couldn't wait for the next morning.

***

Finn was awake the moment the clock struck six.

Usually he was a heavy sleeper and it required a number of alarms and occasionally his roommates shaking him to wake him up, but not today. Today he was too excited to sleep all that deeply.

He could open the box now!

Finn sat up straight and gently took the box in his hands, blinking away the sleep in his eyes until he could focus properly.

His fingers almost trembled with excitement as he gently lifted the lid, eyes sparkling when he spotted the letter inside.

The paper was cream coloured and graced with a practiced teal script. Jade's handwriting.

Finn's breath hitched as he began to read the letter.

Happy birthday, Finn.

I wish you a good day filled with everything you could possibly wish for

Please, take my offer into consideration

Jade Leech

It was brief and to the point, but drenched in caring well wishes that made Finn's heart lose all semblance of control in his chest.

Jade's... offer?

Finn turned the letter over, trying to see if there was some deal or other on it, but there was none.

He placed that letter down, looked into the box, and gently lifted up what was inside.

It was a bracelet, a necklace and two earrings.

The bracelet was composed of many cowrie shells strung onto a thin red string.

The necklace consisted of many many... teeth. Finn could not quite name what type of creature it was, but it came from a predator and it was certainly an achievement to get this many.

The earrings consisted of two small nautilis shells. They were golden in colour- shiny and beautiful, a perfect little pair.

Everything was clearly handmade, put together with great care and precision that stretched beyond a gift for a schoolmate.

Handmade jewellery.

Jade had gifted him handmade jewellery and called it an offer.

Finn's heart lurched.

Jade had given him a courting gift.

-End

....................................

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! O hope you enjoyed and that you aren't sick of the splurge of Finn content haha. This story is more just fluff lol

Tagging: @azulashengrottospiano @krenenbaker @the-banana-0verlord @jaylleoo14 @whspermy-name @officialdaydreamer00 @cynthinesia @distant-velleity @kitwasheree @elysia-nsimp @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer (if you'd rather not be tagged in this sort of thing please let me know!

[stormingfrost]

Wonders of the Invisible World 

Tags: Body horror, major character death, Implied/Referenced child abuse, original characters, pitch/sandy

summary: 

Through hundreds of years of strange things happening all over the world, finally someone sees. The Bennett family is now at the forefront of every children's tale - except, now, they learn that these tales are not only real, but much, much darker than they first thought.

For @rotg-halloween day two: darkness

Read it on AO3

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 /13

chapter two: Darkness 

under cut

Jamie couldn’t sleep. 

Not because it was Christmas, for the first time in his life. 

He hadn’t had any good sleep since before he saw that monster in the woods, gargling at him and looking at him with needy eyes. His mom tried to reassure him, but both his aunt and uncle refused to say anything on the subject. 

So there really was something in the woods. They saw it too. 

Aunt Vivian was crying when they came back and Uncle Andy seemed numb. They had taken the car after a rushed conversation. The car smelt bad. They gave Mom her gun back and said that they would talk about it later. 

But now it was later and the silence was unbearable. He had nightmares. 

They’d start in the woods. He would be alone. It would get dark. 

And then he’d find a corpse. Smell the rotten flesh. See the decaying face. 

He usually woke up screaming then. On nights that he woke up Sophie and Mom, he’d cry and be reassured. Mom was angry at her siblings. 

But tonight wasn’t one of those nights. 

He stared around his dark room. The shapes of once-familiar objects and toys around his room turned sinister. The pile of dirty clothes was now a flesh-eating monster. He closed his eyes. 

There was scratching. In his wall. 

Jamie turned around, looking at the wall with wide eyes. It was after him. 

The scratching turned into knocking. 

Jamie flailed away from the wall. 

The thing wasn’t in his room. It couldn’t have been. It wasn’t here for him. 

Then there was a knock at his door. 

“Mom?” He asked, wanting nothing but his mom to say that it would be alright. There was no response. Jamie got up, glancing around at the room, pausing at the wall, and opening the door. 

The hallway was dark. And empty. Jamie frowned, hurriedly shutting it. 

He plopped himself back on his bed. There was nothing. He was just tired and scared. Nothing was there. 

Another knock. 

Jamie got up, wrapping his blanket around him as he approached the door. 

Nothing. He closed it, sliding his chair in front of it. Jamie sat on his bed, adrenaline soaring through his veins. 

There was nothing. But there was something. There had to be. Jamie wondered if he was dreaming. 

He flopped back onto his bed, tiredly staring up at the ceiling. His glow-in-the-dark stars faintly shone green. 

A sudden loud banging started shaking the door, the noise making Jamie jump. 

Then it silenced. 

Jamie sat up. 

He didn’t want to open that door. He wasn’t sure if it mattered. The banging didn’t sound like something that a child could make. He was defenseless. 

He just wanted his mom. 

He stared at the door. His breath was shaky and heavy, the only noise in the quiet house. 

The banging started again. It made him flinch and remember the nights before his dad left that his mom never knew about. The yelling. The screaming. He’d hit the door, making it shake, and yelled that Jamie should’ve been grateful that his hand wasn’t directed at him this time. 

Then Mom would come home and it was like none of it had happened at all. Like it was just his imagination, dreaming up a nightmare. 

Jamie didn’t open the door. He didn’t have time to. 

The door creaked open by itself. 

The figure standing just in front of his room was blocking his view. Jamie gasped, frozen in place. 

The man was smiling. A cruel and twisted smile. He seemed to be more shadow than man, the dark crawling underneath his skin like cockroaches feeding on rotten food. That smile was too wide. His eyes were too animalistic. The yellow eyes were the only thing Jamie could make out of the darkness. 

The man slid into his room, the door closing behind him. 

“Jamie,” the man whispered. “Jamie, Jamie. Jamie. I hear all about dreams and all the wonderful things. But you have more rot in you than my partner lets me know about, don’t you? All that fear…” 

The hair on Jamie’s arms stood up. His mouth was dry. 

“How-“ he tried. His eyes were tear-brimmed. He was shaking. 

“How did you know my name?” 

The man laughed, standing across from Jamie. 

“I know lots of things. Names. Instinct. Fears. You are unique, oddly enough. I know you’re afraid. You have so much fear of you. However, I can’t make sense of it. I know the rot is in there, but I cannot access it.” 

Jamie backed away. 

“Leave me alone,” he said, his tiny voice not even convincing himself of his bravery. 

“You saw one of us,” the man continued. The shadows seemed to dance around the room, slithering across the walls and floor. “You saw. And now it is no more. You did something, somehow. It wasn’t supposed to end like that. He should’ve been back in the miserable excuse for a pond by sundown. And yet, because of you, he isn’t.” 

The man leaned forward. His hand grabbed Jamie’s face, his fingernails digging into his skin. 

“What did you do? You’re an insignificant stupid child. You changed something.”   

Jamie pulled away, wincing as the fingernails left scratches on his face. 

“What are you?” Jamie asked, standing up on his bed. 

“Suddenly got brave, haven’t you?” The man hummed, amused. “I’m the boogeyman.” 

Jamie blinked, his eyes widening. 

“So, Jamie,” the boogeyman whispered. “What do you think? The sole bringer of fear paid you a personal visit. You’re so special to get that. So tell me what you did. What is so special about you?” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Jamie said. “I saw a body and ran.” 

“I don’t believe you,” the boogeyman snarled, leaning over Jamie. “What did you do? How did you end one of us?” 

Jamie faltered. 

“I didn’t. He was killed by someone else.” 

The boogeyman narrowed his eyes, regarding Jamie. 

Jamie stared back, forcing himself to look the man in his eyes. 

“Very well,” the man said, pulling back. “You’re not lying. You wouldn’t risk that. I’ll just have to find the person who was important enough to do that.” 

Jamie felt a surge of panic. 

His aunt. His uncle. 

The boogeyman paused, turning his head around to face Jamie. His body didn’t turn with it.

“You know,” he said. “Who is it?” 

“Leave,” Jamie commanded. Fight the fear. Do it scared. Just like his mom always said. 

The man laughed, his body finally following his head in facing Jamie. 

“You’re just a silly child. Tell me.” 

“I’m not afraid of you.” 

The boogeyman flinched. He seemed less human-like. The shadows crawling under his skin grew into rats. 

“So be it,” the man said. “You will never find your answers.” 

Then the shadows were gone. Jamie fell onto his bed, completely asleep. 

[zippers-flowers-and-wine]

The First Meeting: Anasui and Weather Report

Dark magenta eyes flickered open, sleek arms flaring out in a splayed out, star-shaped wall of aggression — her flesh goes from rippling blue-grey to an instant match to the wall behind her, cracks and craggles and shadows and all.

Something was here.

Anasui’s eyes flicker across the entirety of her “home”; the waters were still a rich blue, no net cast out to separate her from the scientists as they checked on Emporio, the stench of human entirely absent yet something was off, something was different, and it had her fins flaring in agitation. Her eyes flicker towards where she remembered Emporio being last; Anasui had decided for a mid-day nap today, but the fry had been incredibly squirmy and energetic, possibly due to his recent shed. Not really feeling like arguing with him at the time, Anasui simply told the fry to stay at least 4 arms lengths nearby and settled into the nest for a nap.

Now he was incredibly regretting not making him sleep in the nest with him. 

Slowly, brilliant pink eyes flicking left and right, Anasui pushes himself off of the wall — he stays near the ground, flattening himself down to slink across the sand on lithe limbs, his hair flushing to a dark sandy colour as it fans out around him. There’s still nothing, even when Anasui sends out a low clicking call, chirping Emporio’s specific series of coos and churrs to summon him.

Somewhere, there’s a shaky croon in response.

Anasui’s blue blood goes cold when a much, much lower rumble fills the water — she forces her colour to stay camouflaged against the sands, has to calm each of her hearts one by one even as they begin to race, flooding her mind and body with protective urges, screaming at her to ‘find her fry, find the fry save him he’s vulnerable save him save him SAVEHIM’

As he’s trying to pull himself from the sudden caretaker instinct spiral, that deep croon calls out once again. Against his better thoughts, Anasui drops his chest to the ground, turning to try and see the owner of such a terrifying growl. At the back of his mind, the Caretaker within him flares up, snaps its teeth and lashes its sail because surely such a growl couldn’t belong to someone used to caring for fry and guppies, someone who needs a soft tone to keep the newly developing instinct under control, someone that didn’t have a growl that sounded like a foghorn from the Pits.

The deep growl calls out once more, this time sounding somewhat frantic, pitched up into something between fear and concern, and it moves closer.

Mercifully, Emporio seems to understand that he must stay silent in the face of this… interloper.

Anasui slinks along the floor, arm over arm, shimmying every so often to kick sand up over her limbs — she wants to call out to Emporio as she moves, desperate to shield him, or even drag them up onto land and out of reach of this new mer; a mer, it had to be another mer because the human “scientists” would never attempt to stress Emporio out like this, the young fry far too precious to their efforts to even attempt to risk with something like this.

Anasui thinks of the other merlings she’s seen die from the fear, thinks back to when she was but a gup — the terror of newcomers to the pod, the horror and fear pressing every one of her hearts to their limit even as her pod’s Caretakers soothed and groomed her. The mer calls, closer and lower, Anasui’s head turning upwards; they were close.

For a moment, Anasui believes that he’s been struck — that’s the only reason he can think of as to why there’s a shining spot of white fluttering about in his vision. He tracks it with a sort of predatory focus, only breaking from it when something else shimmers.

Another spot, and then another and then Anasui realizes her mistake.

These were refractions.

Behind her, another terrifyingly low croon calls out, this time no longer guppy babble but a proper call, Anasui’s unofficially official title (listen, she wasn’t interested in having a fry to care for, okay) included. “Greetings, Caretaker, hello, hello?”

Their words were clumsy and low, trailing off into a soft stranger greeting call — meant for Emporio this time, a softer call meant to make them less of a threat and more of a curiosity in the eyes of a small guppy or barely matured fry.

Slowly, Anasui pulls herself from the sand, twisting around.

Staring back at him, a massive male mer floats no more than 2 tails lengths away — honestly, there’s a pit of terror in Anasui’s gut. He hadn’t even felt the mer swim behind him, and that was a problem. His own sail lifts and flares out, skin and hair dropping the attempts at camouflage and returning back to a deep fuschia colour.

At the rise of her fins, the male mer slowly folds his fins down, sinking down to lay belly down in the sand at her back — Anasui takes a moment to look at him, pink eyes flickering over his form:

This stranger mer is larger than Anasui by about a quarter of a tail, the sail up his back large and wispy looking. All of his fins were like that, massive but becoming tattered and thin near their edges. Actually… Anasui eyed his fins a little closer, taking note of the fact that each of his fins seemed mangled in some way. Each fin started the same deep blue, and faded to an irritated pink-white at their ends, jagged and uneven in a way that screamed that the mer had been ambushed in some way. Even further, dark blue flesh of his topside was crisscrossed with scarring that seemed to come from some sort of fight, possibly even the same one that resulted in his fins being torn so thoroughly.

Even more weary, Anasui drifted to a stop and clicked sharply. “How did you get in here?”

The mystery mer twitched at being addressed, his tail kicking up a hazy cloud of sand. Somewhere behind him, Anasui watched a small tan-grey figure wriggle from the ground, darting around the intruding party to slam into Anasui’s cage of tentacles — Emporio was clicking rapid fire, too scared to slow down and breathe.

Dark eyes flicking from Anasui’s stormy gaze, down to the fearful fry, and then back, the intruding mer tucks his arms beneath his body. His claws are folded into his palms, hands tucked beneath his chin as the rest of his fins soothing into a completely slicked back position, fins that had been so intimidatingly large were now tucked impressively small.

He finishes off the display by once again calling out, the bassy foghorn cry replaced by a simple rumble — a purr.

Unamused, Anasui snaps again. “I asked you how you got in here, answer me!”

“…not sure.” The mer answers, his speaking clicks an almost complete departure from his nonverbal calls. His voice was actually rather light, not higher or even mid pitched, but certainly not the deep, bellowing cries he’s been making earlier. “My name… Is Weather… I think.”

Anasui’s nose wrinkles, expression reading as incredulous and somewhat exasperated. “You think?”

“Weather’s” face shifts into a closed mouth grimace, earfins flapping with distaste. Adjusting his arms briefly, the mer continues. “I don’t remember anything… Beyond the humans healing me, at least. So I just called myself the first thing I heard: “Weather Report”.”

Anasui stares at him, somewhat baffled.

“That doesn’t explain how you got here though.”

Weather’s sail lifts and then lowers — the ceacelia realizes that all of his fins have been doing that, flexing out only to quickly draw back in. Anasui had to admit, this does serve to make them look mesmerizing, fluffing and relaxing, and calls attention to the sheer size of them.

It’s a classic beckoning motion, meant to tempt guppies and fry into curling into the fins or simply hiding beneath, usually done by the pod’s Protector’s or Nest Guards.

Emporio shifts.

“I was placed here,” Weather starts, slowly unfurling from his curled up spot on the floor. “They said something about “an adjustment period” and put me over there.”

His eyes follow the slow point, narrowing. Anasui wasn’t sure how she hadn’t seen it earlier — the enclosure had a separated shallow pool on one side of it, meant to give Emporio a space to swim and sunbathe closer to the surface. It also had the unintended (possibly) side effect of being a hiding spot, a place Emporio would often slink onto just to get away from Anasui’s prying eyes.

“It was shallow… and uncomfortable.” Weather drones on, returning Anasui’s gaze back to him. “I stayed there for a little bit, and then…” His eyes flick down, peering at Emporio.

Adjusting her limbs across him, Anasui eyes the other male. It didn’t take a genius to know what had happened — Weather had been waiting in the shallows, Emporio had broken Anasui’s one rule of staying nearby and tried to go into the shallows, and Weather, who was clearly some sort of Nest Guard, had followed his retreat.

Clearly not closely enough, considering that the fry was able to use his natural camouflage and escape, but still.

Anasui sighs, clicking deep in her chest, purposefully turning her back as she pulls Emporio up from beneath her tentacles. Behind her, she only vaguely hears and senses the male mer pushing himself up — one again, his scales start refracting light, little spots dancing across the area like a beacon.

“You can stay over there,” His claws wave towards one end of the enclosure, farthest from where Anasui has set his nest and completely opposite from the shallows where Emporio liked to play. “I’ll allow you to stay, but you are not to touch Emporio, got it?”

Weather Report clicks, then purrs in agreement — Emporio squirms in Anasui’s arms, turning to peak over his shoulder as he swims away.

[dindjarindiaries]

Security - Chapter 57: Redemption

summary: Din receives his redemption from the covert and finds a way to thank Astra for her companionship and strength.

warnings: non-descriptive sexual content, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff

rating: M

word count: 6.424k

previous ⟸ masterlist ⟹ next

chapter 57: redemption

Din exhales a breath of relief when the familiar planet comes into view. Despite the rather quick trip through hyperspace, every minute spent apart from his family has been torturous. It had been too close of a call back on Kalevala. While Bo-Katan had every right to want to attack the TIE Interceptors for what they did to her home, Din couldn’t stop thinking about Astra and the kids being at the heart of the conflict. He was lucky his pleas worked.

As Din leads their descent onto the planet, he decides to reach out to Bo again via the comms. “I’m bringing us to a Mandalorian covert,” he informs her. “This is how we have survived in exile.”

Bo’s response is flat. “I’m familiar.”

“It’s a secret location and you are our guest,” Din goes on. He aches when he glances back and sees Astra’s empty seat.

“They still live by the old ways,” Bo reminds him.

“Yes,” Din confirms. “It will go smoother if you keep your helmet on. Trust me.”

Bo-Katan scoffs, but Din’s not listening to her any longer. He can hear high-pitched rambling in the background, no doubt the voice of his daughter. His heart does a backflip in his chest just at the thought of her. Being somewhere safe after their tumultuous journey has made Din feel as if he can finally be a proper father again, though he’s certain Astra would scold him for having such a thought. You’re always an incredible father, she would insist. But Zora’s wailing is loud within his haunted mind and all he wants now is to hold her and remind her they’re all safe.

Din lands the N-1 just outside the mouth of the covert’s cave, urging Bo-Katan to do the same with the Gauntlet. He’s quick to open his canopy and stand in his seat to survey the area. Paz’s shadow looms by the cave, but otherwise, the rest of the covert’s chosen to remain hidden for now. Din glances over at the Gauntlet and a weight falls off his armored shoulders when he sees Bo-Katan leading his family down the boarding ramp.

Din all but jumps out of his ship and walks as quickly as his boots can take him over to them. He sets one hand on Astra’s shoulder and the other upon her cheek. “Hey,” he breathes, his voice hushed. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Astra assures him with a smile and a nod. She lifts her hand to cover his. “I’m glad to see that you are, too.”

Din returns her nod. His visor shifts to the closed pod at her side. “And the kids?”

“As happy as ever. I told Grogu to keep the pod closed for now.” Astra takes his hand from her face and laces her fingers with his. She gives the cave a nervous glance, and when Din’s own gaze follows it, he can see more of the covert emerging. “Are you ready for this?”

Din gives her hand a squeeze. “More than I can say.” He keeps Astra’s hand in his even as he steps aside and faces Bo-Katan. “Let me handle this.”

Bo nods, allowing Din to take the lead. The three of them make their way across the sandy shore, the pod following them. The distance between them and the covert closes more and more without the Mandalorians’ grips on their weapons loosening. Frustration starts to boil within Din’s chest as Paz steps forward. “Come no further.” Paz’s voice hides no disgust. “You are an apostate, Din Djarin.”

Din stops and rests his weight on his hip. He’s aware of the way Astra draws herself closer to his side. “No longer.” He nods for further assurance. “I have been to the mines of Mandalore.”

“Impossible.” Paz approaches Din even more. “The mines were collapsed in the Purge. The planet is cursed.”

Din composes himself with a quick breath. He gains the faith to drop Astra’s hand and take one more step forward. “These are lies meant to keep us in exile.”

Paz’s cuirass rises and falls in a heavy breath he doesn’t try to hide. “How do we know that it is not you who is lying?”

“He speaks the truth,” Bo-Katan speaks up. Din turns over his shoulder to look back at her. Her gloved hand rests on Astra’s shoulder as if she’s stopped his wife from making an approach at Paz. Din can’t help chuckling to himself at the thought of it. “We were both witnesses.” She gestures to herself and Astra.

“And who are you, Nite Owl?” Paz inquires.

Bo hesitates with a tilt of her helmet. When she answers, she steps closer to Paz. “I am Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze.”

Paz all but scoffs. “Your House has fallen from the Way. You are both apostates.”

Din’s patience begins to run out, especially with the desperate weight of his family’s weariness behind him. “We have been to the Living Waters.” He lets the Mandalorians whisper amongst themselves as he takes the canister off his belt. He offers it to Paz. “I bring proof.”

Paz considers Din’s words, his helmet tilting as his visor looks Din up-and-down. He starts to back away as he responds. “We shall see.” He stands aside enough to let Din pass through.

Din doesn’t hesitate. He starts to make his way inside the cave, intent on ending this as soon as possible. Astra walks quickly enough to join him at his side once again. Din looks over at her and observes her expression that’s written in frustration and anger of her own. He sets his free hand upon her back and leans close to speak quietly to her. “It’s all right,” he assures her. “Paz doesn’t have the final say. The Armorer will verify this proof.”

Astra’s jaw hardens as she glances back at the blue-armored Mandalorian. “Well, someone’s got to put him in his place,” she mutters.

“While I usually wouldn’t protest,” Din huffs to himself, “we don’t want to make more of a scene right now.”

Astra’s hands tighten into fists at her sides. “That’s the only thing holding me back.”

Despite the tension surrounding them, Din can’t help smiling at his wife’s protective words. He keeps her close as their children’s pod floats on his other side. They lead the way into the Armorer’s makeshift forge, where she stands with her back turned to them as she heats something over the flames. Din and Astra stop with the crowd of Mandalorians at their back. Bo-Katan stands a few steps to their side.

“Din Djarin claims to have bathed in the Living Waters,” Paz announces to the Armorer. Din doesn’t miss the side-eye Astra gives him at his choice of words.

The Armorer doesn’t turn as she responds. “Is this true?”

“It is,” Din assures her. “I have proof.”

The Armorer considers his words as she starts to face him. Din offers the vial of water to her once she reaches for it. As he closes the distance between them to give it to her, Bo-Katan speaks up. “I was witness.” Din keeps his focus on the Armorer as she goes on. “He fell into the depths and I pulled him out.”

“I also was witness,” Astra adds. Din moves back to her side for comfort, both hers as well as his own. “I started to go into the depths, but…” she hesitates, “I wasn’t as well-equipped.”

The Armorer listens and makes her way over to another part of the forge. Tense silence blankets the air as she opens the vial and pours the water out. Din holds his breath and hangs on to every word she has yet to say. Astra shifts her weight at his side.

“He speaks the truth,” the Armorer finally announces. “These are indeed the Living Waters.”

Din exhales and every weight he’s carried ever since Morak goes with his breath. His quest is complete. His vow to the Creed is restored. His family is together, and safe. At long last…

“Din Djarin, you are redeemed,” the Armorer finishes his thought for him. “This is the Way.”

The Mandalorians repeat her words. “This is the Way.”

Din looks over at Astra, who returns his glance with a gaze full of pride and relief she doesn’t bother hiding. “This is the Way,” she whispers just for him. He can’t resist taking a gentle hold on her chin to pull her head to his helmet for a quick Keldabe kiss, despite their audience.

It nearly makes Din miss what the Armorer says next. “And Bo-Katan Kryze, by Creed, you too are redeemed.”

Din and Astra separate fast enough to look over at Bo. He goes still and tries to read their ally, but she’s also gone frozen. “But I do not walk the Way,” Bo reminds the Armorer.

The Armorer starts to approach Bo. “Did you bathe in the waters?”

Bo nods. “I did.”

“And have you removed your helmet since?”

Din and Astra share another glance while Bo pauses. “No, I have not.”

“Then you may join our covert and live as your ancestors once did.” When Bo offers an uncertain tilt of her helmet in response, the Armorer goes on. “You may leave anytime you wish. Until then, you are one of us.” The Armorer nods. “Welcome, Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” the Mandalorians chorus once again.

“Astra Djarin,” the Armorer addresses Din’s wife. Din watches Astra’s eyes widen as the Mandalorian faces her. “You also entered the waters?”

Astra nods. “As much as I could manage before Bo-Katan stopped me.”

“Then you, too, have become one of us.”

Astra furrows her brow while Din’s chest tightens with an admiration he can’t begin to process. “But I don’t have a helmet, or any armor at that. I didn’t take the Creed.” She shakes her head and shifts her weight, her voice and her gaze lowering. “I’m not a Mandalorian.”

Din wants to gently scold her for saying such a thing, but the Armorer beats him to it. “You took Mandalorian vows the day you wed Din Djarin, did you not?”

Astra looks back up at her, the knit in her brow loosening as she nods.

“You vowed to share all with Din Djarin. That includes his redemption.” The Armorer returns Astra’s nod. “You are one of us. Welcome, Astra of Clan Djarin.” She looks between both Din and Astra as she finishes. “This is the Way.”

The Mandalorians chorus together one last time. “This is the Way.” They all start to approach Din, Astra, and Bo-Katan with celebratory pats on their shoulders, but Din’s not paying any mind to them. He can only look at Astra Djarin, his wife. His Mandalorian wife.

She’s more precious to him than any redemption could ever be. If that’s not something she’s already aware of, he’s going to make sure she knows it.

“There’s no doubt your journey has left you weary,” the Armorer breaks through Din’s short yet sweet reverie. “Paz Vizsla, show Din Djarin’s family to their quarters. I will escort Bo-Katan Kryze.”

Paz nods and turns to Din and Astra. “Follow me,” he directs, his voice low.

Din takes Astra’s hand once again as they follow Paz through the tunnels of the cave the covert’s managed to hide within. It reminds Din of the ones on Nevarro, though these are more spacious. It’s as if they’ve been carved into the stone to support families like Din’s own. It relieves him, even if he wishes to provide his family with something even better. At least they’re starting their new forever somewhere that isn’t inside a ship’s walls.

“Here.” Paz stops at a curtained-off entrance that’s isolated from all the others. “This has been reserved for a family of your size.” He gestures with his gloved hand for them to enter. “Someone will be by shortly with a meal.”

Din nods at Paz. “Thank you,” he says, his voice strained with genuine gratitude. Paz returns his nod before he walks off, leaving Din, Astra, and the pod at their sides. Din turns to his wife and pulls the curtain aside for her. She smiles and presses her hand upon his cuirass as she passes him, stepping inside the space made just for them. Her touch lingers as a ghost of warmth upon his chest as Din follows her inside.

The stone’s been carved into three separate rooms, with a large living space separating the other two along with thick-woven curtains. Lights already illuminate the area amidst the darkness of the cave’s structures. It’s been furnished enough to provide a place for eating meals, and when Din takes a quick look inside both the bedrooms, he sees makeshift beds that put to shame anything they’ve had to sleep on since leaving Mos Espa—aside from Nevarro’s inn.

“It’s like they knew we’d be coming here,” Astra says, an edge of amusement to her voice. Din looks at her and his stomach flutters at the pure joy in her brightened gaze. “I love it.”

Din’s lips start to curl up into a smile. “You do?”

Astra nods and shares her own grin. “I really do. And you know why?” She approaches him and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her chin upon his cuirass. “Because it’s ours.”

Din doesn’t know what to do in his amazement of her. He brings his gloved hands to the sides of her face to at least ground himself somehow, watching as her eyes blink slowly up at him. “It is,” he manages to respond through the sweet lump in his throat. The events of this journey and all the ones that came before it replay in his mind as he goes on. “You deserve this.” He shakes his helmet. “You deserve even more than this.”

“I don’t need more.” Astra turns her head to kiss the leather on one of his gloves before she rests her cheek against his cuirass, her eyes closed in content. “I have everything I need right here.”

Din can’t compose a response to that. All he can do is wrap an arm around her and secure her head in place against him. There’s still much left to discuss about their journey and what’s to come now that it’s over, but in this moment, none of that matters. They’ve accomplished what they set out to do, and now, they have a place with Din’s people—their people—to call home.

It may not be much, but it’s theirs. Without Astra’s loyalty and strength, none of it would’ve been possible. Din’s going to make sure she knows that.

The moment is only broken when the pod suddenly opens. Astra lifts her head from Din’s cuirass and his visor follows her gaze. Grogu coos and points at Zora as if he’s blaming her. Both Din and Astra laugh before their daughter starts to wave her arms around.

“Mama!” Zora exclaims with glee. “Papa!”

Din’s very chest goes aflame when he can finally, at long last, enjoy hearing his daughter call for him and Astra in such a way. Din looks at Astra and she nods at him, beaming. He steps away from her to approach Zora, his smile only widening as he bends down to pick her up. “Hey, Zozo,” Din greets, setting her on his hip and rocking her a few times. She bubbles over with hearty laughter and plays with the lip of his helmet. With no audience other than his family, Din doesn’t try to stop her. “I’m so, so proud of you, baby girl. You’ve been so brave.”

Zora coos and taps her forehead against Din’s helmet. She turns and points at Grogu. “Gogu!”

“You’re right.” Din keeps Zora secured on his hip as he kneels down to Grogu’s height inside the pod. “Grogu was really brave, too.” Din runs a hand over one of Grogu’s ears. “Thank you for all you did, buddy.” Grogu coos with delight as Din nods at him. “You helped to keep your family safe, especially your sister. That’s the best thing a Mandalorian could ever do.”

Din feels a hand on his shoulder and he turns his helmet to look up at Astra. Her gaze is full of the same admiration he feels for her, a wordless representation of what grows more and more in his heart with each passing day. I’m proud of you, too, Din wants to tell her now. You are strong, brave, loyal, beautiful… The list doesn’t end in his mind. But he keeps these words held to his chest for later, when he can use his actions to reinforce them.

Knocks on the stone outside the curtain draw both of them from their reveries. Din stands and hands Zora off to Astra before he walks over and pulls the thick material aside. One of his fellow Mandalorians stands there with a hovercart of food. “A meal for your family before you retire,” he announces.

Din nods and takes the cart from him. “Thank you.”

The Mandalorian nods. “This is the Way,” he says before he turns and walks away.

Din pulls the hovercart inside and secures the curtain back in place. He pushes the cart to the makeshift table and turns to face his family. “All right,” he begins with a smile, “who’s hungry?”

Both Grogu and Zora squeal with delight. Din chuckles while Astra laughs and brings Zora over to the table. Grogu takes it upon himself to flip from the pod onto one of the wooden stools. Din’s about to remove his helmet and sit with them when Astra stops him, her hand wrapped gently around his wrist. “I can get the kids fed and off to bed,” she assures him in a soft voice. “If you want to freshen up and get comfortable,” she gestures to the armor he still wears, “I can fill you in on everything while we eat.”

Din nods. He knows better than to say no to her after everything they’ve just been through. “Sure.” He glances at his children and smiles at their excited faces when Astra starts to set their plates in front of them. “I’ll say goodnight to you two when I’m back. Okay?”

They coo in acknowledgement, though their focus remains on their food. Din huffs to himself with amusement. True warriors know the value of nourishment, and his children are right on track to follow that path.

Din forces himself to leave them and push his way past the curtain that leads to his and Astra’s makeshift bedroom. It’s quite spacious given the circumstances of their living situation, with one bed and another curtain behind which lies their refresher. Din’s still impressed by the way the covert had a place like this prepared for them, especially when he sees the functioning water supply meant for freshening up. Din doesn’t take his time, instead going fast in hopes of being back with his wife and family. He’s spent enough time away from them and he has to make up for it.

The safety of their quarters allows Din to leave his beskar cleaned in the corner of their bedroom and his shirt folded on the bed for Astra. He emerges and finds the living space empty. Din continues on to the bedroom that’s across the way, pulling aside the curtain to find Astra tucking Grogu and Zora into their own little beds. She turns her head to face him as he enters, her gaze brightening as she observes him.

“Looks like that meal was satisfying,” Din says as he sits on the side of Grogu’s bed. Both his eyes as well as his sister’s are only half-open in drowsiness. “Are you two ready to get a full night of rest?”

Grogu and Zora respond with quiet coos of agreement. Din chuckles and pats Grogu’s head. He stands and kneels beside Zora’s bed, bending down and placing a gentle kiss in her tiny curls.

“We love you both very much,” Din assures their children as he stands and extends his hand to Astra. She takes it and lets him help her off Zora’s bed. Her hand laces with his own and she rests her head against him as they make their way back to the living area. Din makes sure the children’s thick curtain is secured to provide them with as much peace and quiet as possible. He exhales a soft breath as he finally focuses on his wife. “If you want to freshen up, I can take our meals into our room. I left my shirt for you.”

Astra beams and nods, her head lifting from Din before he starts to turn towards the hovercart. “Hey.” She draws his attention again before he can focus on his task. Din faces her and lets her take his face between her hands. Astra rests his forehead against hers, the dim lights dancing in her eyes as she smiles at him. “I love you.”

Din can’t help returning her smile. “I love you, too.” He cups her cheek as he draws her in for a kiss, one that’s briefer than he’d like as he forces himself to pull away. “You’ve been taking care of our family very much on this journey. I’d like to do the same for you, now. Okay?”

Astra closes her eyes with relief and nods. “Okay.” Her voice is as light as air.

“That starts with you freshening up.” Din gestures with his head to their bedroom. “I’ll be ready whenever you are.” He kisses her forehead to send her off, his gaze never leaving her until the curtain of their bedroom hides her from view. Din takes a deep breath and smiles to himself. In front of him are the cleaned-up remnants of his children’s meals with them fast asleep in their own room. Meanwhile, his wife’s refreshing herself for an evening they can steal for themselves.

These are all things Din never knew he wanted, and now that he has them, he needs them for good.

Din continues to beam to himself as he takes his and Astra’s meals into the bedroom. His shirt’s since disappeared from the bed into the curtained-off refresher with her. It only feeds the enamored flame within his chest. Din focuses on making the setup neat for her. They’re small details, but she deserves the best. She deserves everything he can offer her, if she’ll take it. But he can’t let it bubble over just yet; The shadow of their upcoming conversation still needs to pass.

Astra emerges with the same quickness Din had shown before. He openly admires her as she takes her belongings and stores them near his beskar. Astra raises an eyebrow at him with an amused grin as she joins him on the bed, sitting with her legs folded just as Din does.

“I hope your stomach is as hungry as your eyes,” Astra jokes.

Din’s face flushes, though he plays it nonchalantly with a shrug. “You can’t blame a man for loving his wife.” He takes a plate in his hand along with a piece of tip-yip that he offers to Astra. She lets him feed it to her. “His Mandalorian wife.”

Astra shakes her head and waits to respond. “That was quite a shock,” she confesses with a chuckle.

“It was well-deserved, and long overdue.” Din feeds her more. He pauses and rearranges the food on the plate. “Especially given everything that happened on this journey.”

Astra takes a deep breath and Din’s pained at the way she visibly deflates. Her gaze starts to avoid him even as she continues letting him feed both her and himself bite-by-bite. “There really isn’t much you don’t already know.” She crosses her arms over herself, her hands hiding within the long sleeves of Din’s shirt. “The droid emerged and I didn’t see what happened because of…” she gestures to her shoulder, “but Grogu was able to tell me that it had injected you with something.”

“I figured as much.” The food has started to go down heavier in Din’s throat. “It was all a blur.”

“Grogu put Zora to sleep to keep her quiet.” Astra’s words become a stream of consciousness that threaten to tear at Din’s very heart. “He led me to the cyborg’s cave. It had you in some kind of trap on a spit.” She exhales a heavy breath. Din reaches forward to take one of her hands in his own and she holds on tight to it. “I was too injured to rescue you myself. I had no choice but to ask Grogu to get to Bo-Katan for help.” Astra looks at Din with worried eyes. “I didn’t want to make him do it.”

“I know.” Din runs his thumb over her hand. “He knows that, too.” Din nods at her. “And he’s safe.”

Astra nods, swallowing hard before she goes on. “Zora and I just stayed and waited for Grogu to return with Bo. I wanted to keep an eye on you. She was asleep for a while, but then she woke up, and…” Astra hesitates.

“She called for me.” Astra looks at Din with disbelief. “That’s one of the only things I remember. I… just wasn’t sure if I had been making it up.”

“She did. She said all our names.” Astra takes a break from retelling the story when Din feeds her again. He knows well how quickly a pit is growing in her stomach and he needs her to be well-nourished. “We kept watching over you. It wasn’t long after that the cyborg stuck those tubes in you, and you were turned on your side, and something started pumping out your blood.” Astra sets her jaw and shakes her head. “I didn’t care about my injury anymore. I attacked.” She gives Din’s hand a squeeze. He returns it. “Thankfully, Bo and Grogu were right behind me.”

“Good.” Din doesn’t allow himself to think of what could’ve happened had they not been there.

“Bo and I fought it together. The cyborg had disarmed you and that’s how Bo got her hands on the Darksaber. She took it out the first time.”

Din’s brow wrinkles. “The first time?”

Astra nods. “It attacked again. You were the one who warned us.”

Din looks down at their hands and shakes his head. “I don’t remember that.”

“That’s all right.” Astra squeezes his hand and continues. “Bo and I fought again, but the cyborg managed to disarm Bo of the saber. It was near me, so I picked it up and I finished the thing off.” She clears her throat and meets Din’s gaze with her usual strength. “That’s really it. Bo helped you get to the place where you woke up. And as for what happened at the Living Waters… you already know.”

“Yeah.” Din takes a deep breath and sets the empty plate of food upon the floor of the room. He runs his free hand over his head. “Astra, I can’t imagine how hard that was for you—how hard it still is for you.” He takes both her hands in his. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Astra shakes her head. “It’s not your fault.” Her words are quiet, but meaningful. “You warned me that this would be a dangerous quest. I knew what I was signing up for by being there.” She smiles and frees one of her hands to brush her knuckles over his cheek. “Look at us now. At long last, you’re redeemed.” Her eyes shine just as bright as before, despite the darkness she just had to share. Din leans into her touch. “I would do it all again to make you feel this happy and free.”

Din composes himself with a soft breath. His heart is already racing at the proposition he hasn’t even made yet. Everything that threatened to overflow earlier is returning now with the sweetest vengeance. “Cyar’ika,” he begins, “ner kar’ta, ner oyay, there isn’t a single thing in this galaxy I wouldn’t do for you.” He wraps his hand around Astra’s wrist to lower her hand from his face. He instead cups the side of her face, his gaze never once leaving hers as he goes on. “I told you I’d make it up to you and that I’d take care of you. Is that something you want?”

Astra lifts her hand to the Mythosaur necklace Din’s decided to leave on tonight. She uses it to gently tug him closer to her, his forehead and nose pressing against her own as she smiles at him with admiration she doesn’t bother hiding. “That’s something I need.”

Din returns her smile and nods. “Okay.” Both his and her own breaths have already started to become heavier in their heavenly haze. “I was forced to be silent for much of our journey. But now…” Din brushes his lips against hers, “I’ll make sure you hear me.”

Astra’s the one who closes the distance between them, letting their smiles and desperate breaths become one in the way they know best. It always feels better like this, when Din’s lips are parted for hers and they’re slowly melting into each other. As Din gently lays Astra down underneath him, she traces each line of muscle upon his back that Din knows she’s come to memorize, as familiar as the scars they both bear for each other. Din is eager to explore her in return, but he takes his time, wanting her to absorb every touch.

Din’s lips break apart from Astra’s as his hands settle on the hem of the shirt she wears. “I know exactly what lies beneath this,” he tells her, his voice as soft as her fingertips that dance over his back. “But you know what, rid’ika?” Din begins to lift the material higher and higher, inch-by-inch, making Astra sigh in sweet desire. “I can never convince myself it’s real.”

Din remains gentle as he finishes removing the material and sets it aside. His hands become tools of reverence, running along every curve and dip with the very same admiration he did the first time he ever saw her like this. Astra pulls him closer in a silent plea for more, but Din doesn’t rush anything. They finally have time on their side and he’s going to take advantage of it.

“I’ve traveled all over the galaxy, cyar’ika, and I’ve had yet to see anything or anyone as beautiful as you.” Din leans close to her again, kissing her and trailing his lips down to the warmth of her neck. “I know I never will.” He stays where he is when Astra’s hand gives his hair a fond tug, letting his work there produce a seraphic song that spills from her swollen lips. “You know that, too, don’t you?” Her only answer is a sweet sigh of his name. Din smiles against her smooth, bruised skin. “You know how your beauty affects me. I don’t try to hide it.”

Din allows one of his hands that had paused at her waist to continue its exploration. The soft dance of her fingers upon his back becomes a desperate grasp for him to be as close to her as possible. Astra hides her face within the refuge of Din’s neck and he welcomes her there, though he longs to see her again.

“You don’t have to hide,” Din assures her. He presses soft kisses to the side of her face and head. “You’re safe here. We’re safe here.” Din leans his forehead against her temple. “I told you that you’d hear me. Let me hear you.”

Astra complies as she lets her head fall back, the beauty of her gaze meeting Din’s own. It becomes a catalyst to the burning fire of desire within himself, along with the way she pushes his name through the beautiful mess of every sound that escapes her.

“There you are,” Din praises her, his lips pressing against her forehead. “Good, cyar’ika. Very good.” He kisses the pleased knit in her brow. “You sound as lovely as you feel.”

Astra’s hands bury themselves into his hair as they urge him to lift his head and face her again. “Din,” she calls for him, a mixture of pleasure and severity. “Please…” she pulls his forehead to hers, “don’t make me wait.”

Din stops and nods, not wasting a moment in complying with her request. “Okay.” He lifts his hands from her to prepare the two of them as best as he can, until they’re both left vulnerable to each other in the dim lighting of their safe haven. Din laces one of his hands with her own, their constant tie to each other in these beautiful moments, and wraps the other around her waist. He returns his forehead to her own and keeps his gaze locked in hers. “Astra.” Din smiles as he goes on. “Astra of Clan Djarin.” He gives her hand a gentle squeeze. “Will you have me?”

Astra wraps herself around him and returns his smile. “I'll have all of you.”

Din grins wider. “Then I won’t hold back.”

Din kisses her and obeys her gentle command, the feeling of her with him more familiar than any place he’s ever called home. Astra’s lips pull away from his as she cries out for him in the sweetest way. Din presses his lips to her cheek as he hums with content.

“That’s it, rid’ika. Leave it all here.” Din swallows past the lump in his own throat that yearns to be freed. “I’m here with you for good.” He presses his forehead to hers and lets a whimper slip in his effort to keep speaking. “I’m right here with you.”

Din continues to follow through with his wife’s command as he gives her everything he has to offer. He lets his words pause only for a moment to share in Astra’s same passionate song, an exchange of breaths and sounds that need no translation. She moves with him every step of the way, her hand kneading his own with reciprocated desire.

“I hope you feel as beautiful as you are,” Din says when he’s able to, his voice now nothing but a soft breath. “Because I… I can feel how beautiful you are. And you are so…” he pauses to free the sounds trapped in his throat, “fucking…” a shaky breath for composure, “beautiful, Astra.”

Astra lifts her hand from the display of art upon his back to touch the side of his face. “And I’m all yours,” she assures him, her voice just as soft and tight in her own struggle. She takes the Mythosuar that hangs from his neck and kisses it. “Forever, riduur.” Astra’s eyes close as she tugs on the necklace, bringing him even closer to her as her body and her voice plead for him. “Oh, Din… ner Din…”

“Ner rid’ika,” Din pleads with her, unable to resist burying himself within her. He listens to her sweet song. “Your loveliness.” He muses on the intensity of their connection. “Your passion.” He growls with delight at the way her fingernails have since returned to his back. “Your strength.” Din starts to become overwhelmed by his pure admiration for her, the woman who vowed herself to him and vice versa. He can’t believe it. Even after all these years, he can’t believe she’s real. “You’re perfect. And you’re mine.”

Din gains the faith to lift his head and face her. Her gaze meets his and Din can feel the galaxy around them stop.

“And I’m yours, Astra.” He leans down to kiss her. “Forever.”

Their kiss is as much the seal of this promise as their actions, a perfect culmination of a love that could never be described by mere words. Din utters whatever praises he can for Astra as they become one in the most beautiful and perfect way possible, both of them eager to remain in this safe haven they’ve created as long as they can. But Din loves to care for his wife, to hold her close and whisper in her ear of how proud he is of her and how much he loves her.

Their chests are still heaving when Astra urges Din to lay beside her. He obeys, his quickened heart softening when she moves on top of him and rests her cheek upon his warm chest. Din secures her there with a hand upon her head, the other running his fingers over her back. They’re safely hidden beneath the sheets of a bed they can call their own, but even in the dim lights of the room, Din can still see the sparkle in his wife’s gaze.

“Din?” Astra calls for him once she’s caught her breath once and for all.

Din smiles to himself. “Yes, cyar’ika?”

Astra traces one of Din’s scars with her finger. “You’re beautiful, too.”

Din’s face flushes and he struggles not to smile wider. “Thank you.”

“Also… we’ve got our hands full with the two children we already have.” She props her head up on her hands to look at him. “Let’s not try too hard for a third just yet.”

Din laughs, nodding as he runs a hand over her head. “Understood, ner kar’ta.”

Astra laughs with him, lifting herself higher only to kiss him once more. She keeps herself close as she whispers to him. “I love you so very much, Din Djarin.”

Din’s gaze couldn’t break away from hers even if he wanted it to. “I love you too, Astra Djarin.”

Astra’s smile melts against his as she kisses him again. She lets her lips linger before she returns to her previous place, her cheek pressed against his chest as her breaths soften. Din only seeks his own rest once he’s sure she’s found hers, his mind never more peaceful than now.

For once, Din doesn’t have to worry about what else is raging in the galaxy. His family has a place to call their own with people who will protect them. At long last, Din is certain that he can keep them safe from whatever the galaxy might try to throw their way, no matter how heavy the Darksaber’s hilt continues to weigh on his belt.

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[madphantom]

I finally continued working on Susan's Hell Sprint:)

Diary of Paul Killarney, November 1st, 1994 (cont'd)

“Did she ever talk about me?”

I raised my head. “Hm?”

Rory was sitting on the green plush sofa, his long limbs folded up. He looked oddly vulnerable in this light.

I shrugged. “In passing. Sometimes. She mentioned that she met someone she'd once been close to in this village, but…”

“Oh. Alright.” He tilted his head back against the backrest and during the swift movement, I saw a long stitched up scar briefly appear beneath his hand-knitted sweater.

“Oh my god, what happened there?”, I asked before I could hold back.

He glanced over and touched his neck. “Hmm? Ohh. Funny story, actually. Had a freak accident.”

“Oh.” I sunk back into the seat, but he didn't elaborate. It was quiet again for a while. The upstairs floorboards creaked under the Dog's paws and the rain drummed against the windows. Rory was looking out of the window, his scarred neck arched slightly, and when the thunder rolled the corner of his mouth twitched, briefly exposing one sharp canine.

When I was eight, my sister's boyfriend Kyle and his friends discovered an abandoned house in the woods. I don't know who it had belonged to, and frankly it never mattered to me, but it had something spooky about it, and if there's anything eight year old boys love, it's spooky houses in remote wooded areas. So, naturally, on a sweltering hot summer afternoon, Kyle, Alvin, Nash and Gilbert took me along down there to explore.

Nothing special happened on the way to the house. Nash forgot his water bottle at home. Gilbert tripped and skinned his knee. We were just five boys, aimlessly wandering through the trees, kicking pebbles across the sandy path, mosquitoes dancing around our heads in the golden July air, and the sky had that clear blue colour that's almost green with sunlight.

The first chill of evening rustled through the trees. I shivered.

How far is it?, I was about to ask, when a structure shimmered through the trees.

“There it is!”, Kyle exclaimed.

We stepped onto the clearing and I tilted my head back to take a better look at the house.

It looks like a dead elephant, some absurd part of my brain thought. Like one of the Austrian porcelain elephants Aunt Kristen keeps on her desk, but with its bones out. The roof had caved in and a white rose bush had overtaken most of the building, as if sleeping beauty was resting inside. Ragged, once pale pink lace curtains hung in the windows like fluttering albino lashes.

“How do we get inside?”, I asked.

Kyle shrugged his shoulders. “Front door. It's open.”

“It's open?”

“Yeah. Whoever lived here left in a hurry.” He pushed the door open and it creaked like a groaning old woman. We stepped inside.

Sunlight illuminated the inside of the house. The staircase led into a pile of debris on the second floor. Everything looked frail and dusty, like old bones.

“Are you sure the floor is stable?”, I asked.

“Sure.” Alvin stepped inside. “Check this out!”

He jumped. The floorboards groaned, but stayed in place.

“And again!” Another jump. Groan. It was like desecrating a barely just dead corpse. Perversely fun, almost.

Alvin grinned at me with crooked teeth. “Your turn!”

I took a step forward, then another, then I jumped and the world came crashing down.

I blinked, took a moment to process what had happened. Of course. The floor had caved in beneath me and I had landed in the basement. I tasted chalky dust in my mouth and my eyes burned. It was dark. A single ray of sunlight shone down into the pitch black, probably the first light these walls had seen in a long time. I felt something poking my face. Something dry and leathery and dead. Slowly, slowly, I turned my head and stared right into the empty eyesockets of a dead fox. Its teeth were bared. It looked afraid and angry and frozen in time, and I heard something scream. It took me a moment to realize that the screaming was me.

“Paul, Paul are you alright?”, I heard Nash and Alvin yell. A door flew open, the boys stormed into the basement with flashlights. I stumbled backwards, away from the dead animal, sobbing.

“A fox, an entire fox!”, Kyle exclaimed in excitement and shook me. “Paul, that's amazing! We can put it in a bag, take it home and harvest the bones! I'll show you how to bleach them!”

I didn't want to harvest the bones. I wanted to curl up and cry and cry and cry and forget about the sight of those bared fangs and empty eyes, Jesus Christ. I could not stop crying. It was awful.

The boys took me home and I didn't go to school for a week. I woke up screaming in the middle of the night, dreaming of that dead fox uncurling and screeching at me with those teeth like an angry spirit.

When I showed up again, Kyle awkwardly came over at the bus stop with a bag.

“I've got the bones.” He smiled lopsidedly. “If you want you can keep them.”

I hesitated for a minute. A chill ran down my spine.

“Can I bury them?”, I asked.

Kyle shrugged his shoulders and gave me the bag. “You can do what you want. They're yours.”

That afternoon, Aunt Kristen, Kyle, my sister and I went out to a clearing in the woods and buried the fox among the wildflowers. My sister made a wreath and Kyle left a small, wonky wooden fox figurine he'd carved on the grave. An offering. After that we went home, and that night, the nightmares stopped.

But that face, that dead fox baring his teeth, that's what Rory looked like. Maybe that was the reason he unsettled me. It was like the human incarnation of my childhood monster had invited me in.

I hate him, I caught myself thinking and furrowed my brows. Why exactly? What was I even blaming him for? Taking Susan away from me? Before we'd even met? How could I blame him for that?

As if he'd read my thoughts he suddenly smirked. “You know, you scare me.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Huh?”

“You hate so quietly. You're so mature with your hate it's hardly noticeable. It fills the entire room for you, but you still keep quiet. I've never met anyone who was so quiet with their anger before. You're worse than a raging storm.”

I turned away, trying to hide that my cheeks were turning red. How the hell did he notice?!

He leaned forward and smiled in that odd, daring way. “You can't stand me, am I right?” A pause. Then he leaned back again. “Of course I am. And that's understandable. I don't blame you for doing so.”

My tongue was heavy. I didn't want to give away my feelings so easily, but something about Rory's disarming honestly made it hard to keep my mouth shut.

“You scare me,” I finally whispered.

He lowered his head. “I know. I'm sorry.”

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: A bit after Teds got back from Canada Location: Jones Home/beachfront Feat: @vanoincidence and @eldritchaccident Warnings: none! Summary: S’more familial bonding

Pitching a fire was careful work. Each piece of tinder arranged just so. Artful, as if it wasn't something that was awaiting the spark to set it alight. Inferno, annihilation, rebirth. Bonfire season stretched out before them, only just beginning to settle into warm enough nights to sit outside on the beach and watch the dazzling sparkle of flame dancing along the waves. 

Eventually, the tide would take over the stretch of sand, washing away even the ashes of Teddy's tireless work. And still they persisted. Crafting the tower, a monument to S’mores. Or, perhaps, to the ability to get to and walk around again. As long as they ignored the aching in their bones, everything was fine. 

The sun had not set, Teddy didn't think they'd want to be outside in the dark on their own just yet, even if their little study buddy was already on her way. The promise of a bright night light put their mind at ease, even if theoretical. 

The kindling struck up and smoked until the first flames appeared, Teddy smiled and sat back, taking stock of the sweeter supplies. Marshmallows, Graham crackers, chocolate, and a host of more experimental toppings. Some of which were kept on dry ice. Along with a thermos of liquid nitrogen. For science. Food science. Of course. 

With the fire going, the snacks set, Teddy figured it was a good enough time to get some practice in. A looming threat, and a hopeful promise chasing them ever since Echo had them thinking a whole lot more about this power they'd apparently been born to. It was a pretty all consuming spiral, one they couldn't help but ruminate on so much they missed much of their surroundings. Including Van showing up on the beach. 

—

Van had her own running supply of snacks for tonight’s event, all stuffed into a backpack instead of her regular tote. She could feel the shift of the red bull cans with every step, three new flavors for Teddy to try alongside her. The number of candy bars she had pulled off the shelves (all at various discounted prices) would probably end up squished by them, but she figured it didn’t matter considering they’d all be squashed between graham crackers and marshmallow, anyway. 

The smell of the smoke reached Van’s nose first, and then as she rounded the corner to the beach’s opening path, she saw the glowing light visible against the sandy floor. “Teddy!” She smiled brightly at them as she approached, one arm in the air, waving haphazardly around. There was a click in her shoulder that she ignored, the pain still there from the time she’d got thrown to the ground by the dirt eating vampire. 

“I brought some other stuff, too.” Van twisted her arm out of the strap of her backpack and held it up awkwardly as she began to unzip it, plopping down into a squat just next to Teddy. She began to unearth the various chocolate bars, as well as the cans of red bull. “These are kind of warm, I hope you don’t mind– Oh! Can we put them on the ice?” She motioned towards the cooler that Teddy was next to before rocking back onto her heels, planting her butt on the sand. 

The fire was warm against her skin, a welcomed feeling against the dropping temperature as the sun pushed down further.  Van wasn’t much of a hugger, but she felt inclined to give Teddy one. As she got to her feet, she threw both arms around them, giving him a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “What did Canada do to you, dude?” It was said with a soft laugh as she dropped back down next to them, grabbing her backpack so she could zip it back up. 

—

With how much Teddy was startled by Van’s arrival, you'd almost wonder if they forgot anyone was coming by at all. A seashell in the tide, their attention was pushed and pulled so easily. Unnoticing the rising and the falling until it found itself completely buried in the sand. In this particular case, the sand was an experiment in holding an increasing number of marshmallows in a small spherical forcefield hovering over the fire, which promptly exploded as the caster was startled and dropped the current record of four sugary treats down into the flames below. 

“Oh! Hey Junebug!” No tears were shed for the sugar feeding the fire, in fact, quite the opposite. The moment they heard the kid’s voice Teddy was all smiles, bursting to bits with joy as the younger caster kept talking and then opted for the hug, making Teds feel like they must be doing something right. Without much fanfare, Teddy took the drinks and added them to the cooler, sitting just beside the various experimental toppings, and the canister of dry ice chilled ice cream. 

“Ah Canada was—“ What they’d said online and what actually happened were two different stories. One of them involved hockey. One of them involved deprivation torture. Teddy wished they’d just been roughed around a rink. It’d be a lot less complicated. They’d be a lot less distant, hiding behind a smile they hoped she wouldn’t see as faulty in any way. “—so weird, Van. SO weird. Did you know they have milk in bags up there? Just in BAGS.” 

— 

When Van thought of Canada initially, she thought of geese and Toronto. Then, she started to think about Thea and the life that her friend had had there, and how different it was in Maine. How she’d been Cynthia, and now she went by something else. Was Teddy somebody else in Canada, too? Was there something they weren’t telling her? Probably, but she didn’t feel the urge to yank it out from beneath him, because what would that accomplish? This was supposed to be a bonding moment. 

“I’ve heard that! And their money smells like maple syrup, right?” That’d been a trap she’d fallen into, and she already knew the truth, but she wanted to see what Teddy would say to her. “Sucks that they have the queen on it, but at least the colors are pretty.” Not that their money was much better, but still. 

Van noticed that there were a few marshmallows already in the pit and she frowned, then looked back to the package. They’d barely miss them, as it was– the remaining bag was filled to the brim with the fluffy sugar bombs. “So like, where do we start? Should we put the graham crackers with the chocolate near the fire so the chocolate melts and it’s not all weird and messed up?” Messed up as in a weird texture, but she figured Teddy would understand that without her needing to explain further. 

—

“Wait really?” Teddy hadn’t spent long enough in Canada to actually exchange much cash, let alone go sniffing it. “I know it’s pretty colorful, but smells like maple too? Damn.” 

One redeeming point for Canada apparently. Not exactly enough that they really ever wanted to go back, but hey. Can’t blame the whole country for one town that may or may not even really exist. Didn’t on google maps, but the documents in the town hall looked official. It was weird. Not a lot about that place added up. Not in a way that made sense unless you were looking at it from just the right angle. One Teds never really found. “All money should be colorful.” Teddy nodded to themself. “But we need to start putting fun stuff on it, not old dead shitheels.” At least monetary markers were something more comforting to muse about. 

“Oh good idea, I got some more flat rocks on this side of the fire, we can probably put ‘em there.” Light danced around the pair as they circled the inferno. It chased away the darkness, gave purpose and strength to the night. Teddy hated feeling afraid. It wasn’t in their nature, at least it never used to be. Growing up demon, the only things that could even come close to terrifying them in the same way the simple darkness did now was maybe a whole cloister of nuns with guns. And that was… shit another fear that came from being locked in a room with something, awaiting a swift and assured death. Death itself wasn’t half as scary as the things that led up to it, they thought. The anticipation was worse. In the end, death might be more of a release and relief than they’d ever like to admit. 

“Also got blankets and such if the wind picks up and you feel chilly. But I doubt it will, been pretty lovely all evening.”

—

“Are you messing with me? You know that’s not real, right?” Van could’ve let them continue to believe that it was true, or that she thought it, and so maybe that’s what Teddy was doing– allowing her to believe. Or maybe they were messing with her in a different capacity, or maybe they thought it was real. “Sorry I lied to you.” 

“I hate money. Like, the idea of it, what it’s done to like… everything.” It was hard to not think about the arguments her parents constantly got into about money. They still echoed around in her head, tangling her up what it meant to be either successful or… the opposite. But now wasn’t the time to think about that! She and Teddy had a plethora of sweets at their disposal, and the night sky that bloomed over them was the kind that could only be dreamt up. She wanted to enjoy this time, especially now that Teddy was back. “But you’re right, um, colorful money would make things way cooler, and way better without the ugly dead people on it.” Was that rude? Would they come to haunt her? Maybe. She’d just hit George Washington with a cherry or something. Or was it an apple? 

Van dropped into a squat next to the fire, careful to not lean too far forward or too far back. She unearthed the package of graham crackers and began placing them gently on the flat rocks as Teddy had explained, before setting single pieces of chocolate onto them. “This is like, the best way to do it.” She looked up at them with a big grin. 

She looked towards the blankets Teddy mentioned and gave a small nod. “I think the fire will totally help out with that, but that’s like, super courteous of you.” That was the right way to use the word, right? She was almost positive it was, at least. “Um.. okay. Chocolate laid out, marshmallows acquired. Do we put on music? Or is that disrespectful to the night time or whatever?” 

—

“Wait– Really? Well diggity shit. That’s lame.” Defeat. Utter total disappointment. Why shouldn’t it smell like maple?  It should smell like maple. Teddy grumbled and fell backwards, getting a head full of sand and an eye full of stars. The stars are probably maple flavored. They wouldn’t disappoint. At the very least the North Star™ probably did. “Guess it makes sense though, when has a government run program ever done anything cool ever?” 

Hating money. That was something Teds could get behind. The caster tilted their head upwards, shaking off a little of the sand just to get a good look at the kid. It was easy for them to say they hated it now that the Jones family was more flush with cash then they could ever dream of spending in one lifetime, but it wasn’t always that way. Fireside treats and the family secret S’mores technique came from that period. When they scraped together enough to survive, and sometimes had enough for a treat. When most nights were spent under the blanket of the cosmos, warmed only by the massive body their father could transform into. 

“It’s unfortunately pretty useful, but…. Pretty much only because of all the shit it’s done to the…. Everything.” Two arms shot up in the air, waving around and gesturing to the whole of human civilization. “Hah!” Teddy snorted. “Yes, abso-fuckin-lutely no more dead ugly white guys. That’s number one.” 

Van got to work setting up the crackers, so Teds figured it was time to get roasting. “The trick for the marshmallows is to find a pocket of the fire without any big flames, but some hot embers down below.” Up and at-em with a dad groan, Teddy found their own spot by the fire. Put two mallows on a stick and studied the gentle inferno for the perfect oven. “Then you gotta be patient. This way takes longer, but it makes for the best flavor.” They explained, exceptionally proud of their caramelizing skills. “Only turn it once you see it juuuuuust start to smoke. And turn it slowly too, that’s how you get it perfect golden brown.” 

—

Van still wasn’t entirely sure if Teddy was messing with her or not, but only because their expression left so much to be discovered. She observed them for a moment, still not quite sure, but snorted at their comment about the government and how decidedly uncool it was. “I’d say the parks department is like, the only cool thing anywhere, but even they really mess up a lot of the time.” She had watched a 10 part Tik Tok series on why the park’s department sucked and had totally turned her back on them.

“Useful, yeah.” It was, and she knew it was, but it didn’t mean she was happy about it. Money sucked, and it got in the way of a lot of things. She didn’t want to think about the negatives right now, though, and as easy as it was to get wrapped up in them, she wanted to enjoy the here and now with Teddy, especially after they’d been gone for so long. “Yeah, like, put a tree on it or something.” The whole thing was technically made out of trees, right? “Or maybe that’s kind of messed up. I don’t know.” She didn’t really know a lot about anything, but it seemed like Teddy thought she did, and she liked that. 

“I kind of like when the marshmallows get kinda burnt and crispy… there’s something about the burnt parts that tastes really good.” That, and it was because she always got distracted by roasting them that most of hers had come out burnt and she got used to the taste. “But I’ll definitely try your way. You’re the one with the inventive food things, so you definitely know what you’re talking about.” Van half-waddled, half-knelt to the side of the fire that Teddy was at and watched them as they roasted the marshmallows. “Those look a lot better than anything I’ve done, and I’m not saying that in like, a depressing way. I mean those look like they came from a magazine.”  

—

“Parks and Postal service, the only parts I respect.” Teddy nodded along. “Imagine how much bullshit they have to deal with from the other branches. I bet they’d be about 87% more efficient if they were just like, allowed to do what they wanted.” They had watched no such Tiktok. But they had seen all of Parks n’ Rec. Multiple times. Hell of a show. One time someone compared them to an uncanny horrifying mix of Leslie Knope and Jean-Ralphio Saperstien. Teddy wore it like a badge of the highest honor for months. 

“Are you good on that? Like rent and groceries and everything? Your car running well?” Normally, they wouldn’t be so direct. Their support usually came in subtle gifts and acts of service. But for some reason, the topic seemed to bother Van in a way that worried them. Maybe not bother, seemed too strong of a word. Disconcert? Upset? Teddy mused on it a bit while they waited for a reply. “Trees! Yes! Something anyone can get behind. Or like, take a vote on what's everyone’s favorite animal. If I could make money I’d put a little nudibranch on it, have you seen those little guys? They look like pokemon.” A little lilting laugh escaped their chest, finding joy wasn’t hard in good company. 

“Heard, chef.” A little crispy. They could work with that. “Do you like the inside being molten or uncooked?” They could do the best of both worlds. Two marshmallows, one burnt and crispity, one golden and gooey. Pride swelled up as the kid came over, leading Teddy to preen like an egotistical peacock. “Ahh well, Whenever I’m with friends,  I never do anything I don’t think I’m amazing at, so that’s step one. Always gotta impress, y’know?”  

—

“I was told I shouldn’t respect the postal service by this one lady ‘cause my package got accidentally delivered to her house. She wanted to yell at them, but I don’t think they’re paid enough for that.” Van was glad that she was able to keep Vic from going and yelling at the poor postal workers, but it was a little bit annoying that it was something that kept happening. Then again, it probably had something to do with this stupid town and nothing to do with the actual workers. “Yeah, definitely more efficient, probably.” She didn’t really know a whole lot about government and the whole trickle down thing, but she was pretty sure Teddy was right. 

“What? Yeah, uh– I mean, I’m not like, paying rent right now. Regan won’t let me pay rent. I gave her…” Was it alright to tell Teddy that she had given her bones? Probably, right? “Bones. There were some bones, and she wanted them, so that’s what I gave her. It’s a lot cheaper than rent, right?” Van let out a nervous laugh. Groceries weren’t really an issue either, mostly because Sly Slice was a source of food. Though, she was getting sick of pizza. “But um, I’m good! Totally good.” She didn’t want to take from Teddy, anyway, especially when they were already offering so much given the whole… both having magic thing. “A Nudi-what?” The topic of it looking like a pokemon did make Van interested, so she pulled out her phone and looked it up, nodding with confirmation at Teddy’s description. “It looks like something that’d be in the game, totally. Wait, that’s so cute. I want them on my money. Way better than old dead white guys.” 

“Uncooked? No way, then it doesn’t get all sticky with the chocolate– Oh, crap.” She turned towards the graham crackers on the edge of the rocks, noticing that the chocolate was already beginning to bubble. She carefully moved them to a cooler side of the rock where they wouldn’t continue to cook. Van listened to Teddy as they spoke, and even if she couldn’t really identify with their sentiment, she felt like she needed to tell them that it wasn’t necessary. “I already think you’re like, super cool and whatever. Way cooler than Emilio, so.. I mean.” She shrugged, nudging the graham crackers towards Teddy so that they could place the marshmallows on top. “You can definitely tell him I said that. I think you should use that as like, the way you impress people. Just show them Emilio.” There was no way she’d say that she thought Emilio was cool, so she laid it on thick in regards to thinking Teddy was way cooler. “These look melted enough, right?” 

—

“Nobody gets paid enough to be yelled at for a mistake, except maybe like… CEOs but they should be melted with the marshmallows I think.” Teddy hummed a little laugh, briefly imagining a screaming rich dude at the end of their stick rather than a sugary treat. Just like a bedtime story Leviathan would tell. Of comeuppances and shitheels getting what they deserve. “At the very least they’d be happier.” And happy folks tended to work better, or at least make it nice for everyone they interact with. If Ted knew how much trust Van put into their aimless rambling, they’d probably never shut up. So a change in topics was probably for the best. 

“Oh! Right, The Death Doc is your landlord. I think I remember you saying that before.” Memories were so fickle, rudely getting lost and mixed up in loose imaginings and potential panicking points. “Bones eh? That sounds about right with her. Definitely cheaper than rent.” They agreed, whole heartedly. Not even missing a beat, as if that was the most normal currency one could offer. Bartering, Teddy thought, was a much better system overall. Everyone could get exactly what they want, or what they need. “Yeah well, if you get in a pinch, I got more food and room than I can shake a salmon at.” 

Van pulled out her phone and immediately Teddy perked up. Her impulsive inquisitiveness was one of the things that they always admired about the kid. Reminded them a lot of themself. And the whole of the universe knew how much Teddy Jones loved themself. (Most of the time.) “We should make a club. Specifically so we can have t-shirts with our nudibranch mascot on them. Bet you any money Wynne would think these guys are cute too.” 

“Atta girl, you are so right for that. Gooey is the way to goo.” Perhaps not the best phrasing considering the whole town had been covered in a terrible goo not half a year ago. Ahh well, time passed, and the consistency of melty treats was a far cry from the black ichor that messed up so much shit back then. “Oop.” Teddy let out a small sound of surprise as the graham cracker bases were nudged their way, absolutely ready to be made into the perfect S’mores. “Well you are a hundred percent correct on that, but he’s got some cool points. Maybe not from you, Junebug.” Carefully, the older caster split the two marshmallows evenly across the crackers, making sure both got a good amount of goo as well as the crispy golden shell, with specks of burnt just for that added texture and flavor. They smooshed the tops on and handed one over, primed for a cheers motion. “Melted to maximum deliciousness. Bone app the teeth.” 

[sunny6677]

The Appearance of An Old Friend.

(A drabble about Hermes first meeting Epic!Sunny directly during the time she's in the Epic Universe.)

1/2

@rebootgrimm (just incase ya wanna read—ya don't have to ofc/lh)

————

Along with the sounds of the roaring waves—vanished the silent noise of Odysseus's steps, walking away further and further among the patches of golden sand. Rays of light glimmering down onto the particles of the substance. All scattered into piles.

..was she a particle, in this scenario? Sunny almost wondered—gazing at all the piles as if they were fractions of time. Wondering if she was a mere particle lost in the timeline she shouldn't have been in, with one of the piles being where she needed to be. One of them being her very key home. And yet, for years and years, unaging, she still hadn't found it.

She gazed down at her hand—her eyes tracing over the lines of her palms which entwined with one another. A line that never seemed to end, just like this journey.. perhaps there was a path that led to her home in someway. Perhaps maybe, there'd be an alternative way of returning to Ithaca for Odysseus.

Perhaps she'd.. never find a way home. Perhaps she'd be on this ship forever. Perhaps Odysseus would make it back to Ithaca—and she would be made to live with him, for in this time, there was nowhere else to go.

...she.. she did have some place to go. And that was home. She could still find a way back! She'd just have to keep trying. She'd find it. Sunny knew she would. With great confidence, she knew this!

She knew. She defintely knew.

...

...she.. didn't know if she knew.

Her brown eyes lowered to the grains of golden sand, gently washed by the thrill of the soft blue ocean—which came with its delicate waves. She felt the slight rush of coldness occasionally drift against her toes—as if poking her. Trying to get her attention.

The ocean itself sounded like a roar almost. A loud, but calming roar. Mingled with what she could swear was the noise of birds chirping. Which it.. probably was. Seeing as this was an island and likely had animals on it anyway. Sunny could even swear among the pink, yellowish skies from above—she saw a winged silohuette. A large bird up in the sky—it's wings practically gliding and it's feathers a beautiful brown. It's yellow beak lit by the amber sun.

It was a hawk. That, Sunny knew. It wasn't something she exactly expected to see though. The longer she gazed upon it, the more of it's features she noticed. Amber eyes. Yellow legs with black spiky toes. White splotches of feathers.

..curious. What was a hawk doing at a tropical place like an island? It wasn't that unusual, of course. But she hadn't thought they inhabited islands like these.

..it.. really was large for a bird. It appeared almost closer. No. It.. was getting closer—slowly lowering itself to the ground as it chirped. Lowering to the splotch of water-covered sand right in front of her as it just swayed back and forth. Was it really going to land here?

She tilted her head, her eyes still wide as it's form practically dangled like a yarn ball. She could hear it's cries sounding louder among the waves of the soft ocean—the sound of its cries almost sounding like a high pitched laugh. A cackle.

Her head lowered as it came closer to the sandy, soft ground—her eyes opening slightly more. Would it really casually land near her like this?

She couldn't help but smile, seeing such a creature get closer with something curious in it's eyes.

"Heheh.."

She couldn't help but let out a small giggle, watching as it's feet finally landed on the soft grains of wet sand. The creature cocked it's head to the side slightly, it seemed. Causing her to chuckle.

"What are you doing here?" She grinned, "You lookin' for your home too?"

The thing chirped, seeming almost as if it were responding.

"..yeah.. I've been lookin' for mine too. I'm still struggling to know if I'll ever find it."

Her eyes lifted, setting theirself upon the waves of blue ocean.

"..I hope I do. I.. really hope I do."

Sunny heard it chirp again, and her gaze shifted over to where it stood. It seemed entirely still now, as if listening.

Sadly chuckling, she spoke, "..I don't suppose you know a way back to my home, do you? It's far away from here in a way I don't think you'd understand.."

...the bird didn't move still.

"..I don't know if.. anybody would understand. Home's so far now. And I haven't even been.. I haven't been aging the way I should. I dunno how I'm ever gonna get back."

"..I understand you very well, darling. No need to worry."

..Sunny's head briefly twitched, a mild pulse intensifying inside of her chest—and her eyes flickering over to the creature. Did it just talk? That was absurd, birds couldn't—unless it was—she.. she didn't know—there were so many deites and monsters she knew if now. How could she know if it had been something?

Yet—there was no way of knowing. In the instant of looking back to where it stood, it was gone. Just.. nothing but sand. Golden wet grains of nothingness which seemed to turn brown anytime the waves washed over it.

She stared, her mind racing with possibilities. Was it a deity? Had she gone mad? Was it just a trick? Was Odysseus messing with her? She knew the last one wasn't probable, but still—!

The ideas she had were quickly transitioned into silence. Like static. She didn't know.. in that moment what she was staring at for a second, but whatever it was, it wasn't a hawk. A looming shape with a crescent moon shape on its top.. it's head. Briefly like the night sky, before transitioning into the shape of.. something more familiar. A hooked nose. Sturdy cheeks. Eyes shadowed by dark brown bangs, and lightish brown skin which was made tan by the sunlight. It's moon no longer a moon, but the shape of a smile.

Sunny tried to speak, her now wide eyes lingering over the form the figure took beneath its head as it just grinned from ear to ear—in a way that was almost unhinged, yet.. friendly at the same time—white pearly teeth, with a slight gap.

Beneath its smile, she could make out the shape of a muscular human body, hidden by a white silky robe which flowed in the soft winds. Large, dark objects sprouted from it's back—feathered and brown. Like wings. No.. they.. were wings. Wings that almost reminded her of..

..how could that have been possible? There wasn't any way it could have..

Curly locks of dark brown hair. A helmet over the top of it's head, with small golden wings sprouted from the endings. Shoes that appeared ballerina-like, with wings also sprouted at the ends. The eyes which this being should have had not visible from it's.. hair. It was humanoid. But in a way, clearly not human.

And in a way, she.. had a feeling she already knew who it was. But it just didn't make any sense. How could that winged man from her brain have been here, standing before her now—no, floating before her now with that same grin on his face? That winged man she had sprouted from her imagination like a plant ever since she was little. That person that she knew wasn't real, for no being could ever give her such genuine care. Such love.

And.. yet, here it was. Here before her. Her mouth hanging open as it cocked it's head to the side curiously.

"..wh.. what the.."

Without much will, Sunny stammered softly out loud. The same, echoed, high giggle released itself from the figures mouth.

"Hohoho! Hello to you too, darling.."

It spoke in the same voice. The same, raspy, elegant voice. Which.. she never thought she really heard. Which she only thought she imagined. Flowing through her ears—now clearly of reality.

Sunny still didn't speak, her eyes wide as she made herself scoot back on the firm boulder from below her—this wasn't real. It.. was it? Was she going mad? Were years of endless travel finally ruining her brain?

The figures grin grew wider—yet somehow softer at the same time.

"Wh—what the hell? Whuh—wha..? Why—?"

Still, Sunny stammered, her hands gripping the firmness of the boulder. The figure, floating before her, only giggled.

"How—how are you—?"

Sunny yelped, almost feeling the sensation of her back drifting off the boulder and meeting the soft ground. Before she quickly caught herself, her hands clenching the boulder tighter.

Still, the figure floated, it's giggling growing higher.

"Hahahaha..! Don't be so afraid, little one. It's only me."

"..li—little one..? Wh.. how—"

Sunny paused.

"..you're.. you're here. How—how are you here?"

"I think that's a question I should be asking you, y'know. You really shouldn't be here by yourself."

"..yeah, I really shouldn't be here at all."

"Hmhmhm.."

The figures smile softened, as if finding the retort endearing somehow. It began to float closer, it's hands still behind its back.

"You're just as silly as I imagined you'd be.."

"..wh... whuh—"

The words escaped Sunny's mouth. The figure had came closer, it's arms slowly reaching from behind it's muscular back and reaching out—bending, and then encircling around her waist. The figures wings spread, nearly encircling her as well. The sensation from the pair of muscular arms which wrapped around her carefully felt so.. warm.

The figure hummed, as if embracing someone it hadn't seen in a while.

"..it's real good to see you're still here. Are you alright, little one?"

..it asked such a question in the way the winged man always did, calling her by such a name. Speaking so gently. Despite the figure being unfamiliar, it did.. feel like him.

"I'm.. ye—yeah? I think so.."

"Mm.. good. As long as you're here, that's alright with me."

He chuckled.

"You're as wonderful as I thought you'd be.."

"..wh.. how.. how are you here?"

"...mm..?"

"How—how are you—" She spoke louder, "—here? I thought.. I didn't think you were.."

"..real? Hahahahah–! Darling, I've always been here."

"You.. wh—what?"

"I said—I've always been here. I knew you'd know who I was. And I know I'd love getting to know you.. even if it was only in a century that I could finally do that."

"A century..? Do.. wait—have you.. always been around?"

"..I think I just answered that for you, dear."

"I know, I just.. have you.. been here longer than I thought..? Have—I.. I don't.. know how to tell you what I'm trying to tell you. I.."

"Darling, darling.. that's okay. I know you're confused. I would be too if I wound up somewhere I wasn't supposed to be."

"..."

"But, you don't need to worry about that either."

Slightly, he pulled away, a crooked smile on his face. Mild confusion filled Sunny's chest. Still puzzled from how he was here. Or what this could have even meant if he had.. always been real.

He then chuckled before she could speak.

"There's already a way I could fix all of this."

"There.. is?"

"Mhm.."

"What.. are.. has there always been a way to fix all this? Wh—what do you—"

A gentle smile from him made her silent, feeling his knuckles slightly brush against her cheek—his hand wondering to her face and looking over her feautures with such softness. As if looking on at something so incredibly wonderful.

She blinked.

"What.. do you mean?"

..he didn't give a direct answer. The smile on his face seemed to grow wider, and he chuckled.

"..I have a way for you to get back home."