#and I'm like not okay with that happening until there's a batch fix

[moldycantaloupe]

Mushy May Day 16

(bonus prompt 10) "shut up i'm taking care of you"

Cw's: mental health problems. isolation, self deprecation, issues eating, non-sexual nudity (showering together). but it is a mushy prompts list, so all ends well!

notes; this one was like a mind flayer and took control over my hands and suddenly there 1,2k words of hurt/comfort, my fave. thanks as always to @forlorn-crows for putting together the prompts!

Rain didn’t… know what happened. The day before, everything was fine. Normal even. They ate their dinner with the pack, played on their acoustic with Dew, and then went to bed. It was an easy, simple night. They laid in their bed, exhaustion heavy in their muscles, but their mind raced.

They knew they were okay. Logically they knew the pack cared so deeply about them. Logic, unfortunately, was not winning the battle tonight. They felt the first round of tears sting and scrubbed viciously at their eyes, their breathing shaky. Their mind screamed at them to hide away, isolate from their pack until they were nothing more than a nameless ghoul. No one would notice, they figured. 

But, logically, everyone would notice. They knew logically. 

It started with a quiet knock in the morning. A little later than when they usually woke up, but a sleepless night forced the exhaustion to seep further down into their bones. The knock wasn’t persistent, just someone coming to wake them up for breakfast. Judging from the footfall after they knocked, it was most likely either Aurora or Cirrus. Rain opted with Cirrus.

Twenty minutes went by before the next round of knocking started, followed by Aether’s soft voice. He mentioned that they left a plate for them in the oven, and that he was there for them if they wanted to talk. That they all were. They curled into themselves further, throwing the blanket over their eyes to hide even farther. Had they really done this so much that the pack knew their patterns? It hadn’t even been an hour and already they were being a nuisance to their pack. 

The day wasted away. They only got up to use the bathroom before crawling back to their bed. The bedding felt heavy against their skin, the pillow somehow greasy, but it was all they had in the moment. It felt like they were in fight or flight, and their body and mind couldn’t pick an option. 

A few others came by throughout the morning and into the afternoon. Most would knock, call out, and then leave when they got no response. They heard Phantom walk by at some point, and the young quint didn’t knock nor call out. Rain thought they had left quietly before they quietly sighed, just barely loud enough that Rain could hear, before finally walking away. They felt a fresh batch of tears well in their eyes at the disappointment obvious in the quint.

It was nearing the evening of the day. Rain stayed in their fetal position most of the day, their body aching in ways that were comforting but ultimately awful. They felt cold, a type that couldn’t be fixed with blankets. Their stomach groaned in need of food but they felt nauseous at the thought of eating or drinking anything. They had flitted in and out of sleep for most of the day, but the exhaustion made its way down through their bones and into their core. 

They were woken up from their nth nap of the day by the doorknob turning and the door opening. They smelt before they heard Mountain enter, the earthy smell of sage and rosemary flooding their room. They held their breath and kept their body stone still, scared of what he was here to do. They felt guilt immediately for assuming the worst in the gentle giant, but kept still. 

Instead of anything malicious, he sat down at the end of the bed and placed his hand against their calf. He messaged at the skin. It was so warm. Their eyes stared directly ahead of them to the blank wall, not daring to look at him.

“Rain,” he quietly called out. They didn’t respond. 

He sighed and took his hand away to stand. They violently flinched when he scooped his arms under them and picked them up bridal style. They shut their eyes tight.

“We’re going to wash up,” Mountain pulled the mounds of blankets off and away from them, the dull thud as they fell sharp against their ears, “and then try and get some food into you. Does that sound good, starfish?” 

Rain kept their eyes shut. Mountain took it as a yes and walked towards the bathroom. 

He sat them on the toilet and they slouched heavily until their head hit his stomach. He twisted to turn the water on before he focused his attention back towards them. With a bit of maneuvering, the two managed to get their clothes off, Rain being very little help. Mountain said nothing as he lowered Rain onto their shower seat, the spray of the water forcing a heavy sigh out of them. He shucked his shirt to the ground and stepped in himself, just to the side of them. They hesitated every movement as he helped get them clean; fingers twitching when he asked for them to lift their arm, head locked in place when he pointed the sprayer towards their hair. Everything built up higher and higher in their small body until it came crumbling down when he massaged the shampoo into their curls, his blunt fingers rubbing soothing circles into their scalp. Their face, deadpan and void of emotion before, broke into a deep frown as the tears that teased them all day finally fell down their face, an ugly sob coming deep from their chest. They held their head in their hands while Mountain continued to lather the soap through their hair. They leaned into his touch, suds spreading to his abdomen. He kicked up a purr that vibrated through their ears to their brain. They sobbed harder, loud whines and hiccups and guttural cries.

“I’m-” they sucked in a harsh breath, “I’m sor- sorry-”

“None of that,” Mountain spoke softly but firm, voice unwavering. 

“I was being- being so selfish.” They argued. 

He shook his head. “It happens, starfish.”

“And now I’m f-forcing you to deal with me-” they were interrupted by him leaning down, just enough for them to see him through tears, and his smile was so gentle, so caring. So genuine. It made them fall harder into him.

“None of that.” Mountain stood back up and leaned over to grab the spray. They let his firm hand tip their head back as he began washing the suds out of their hair. “I’m taking care of you.”

The rest of the shower consisted of Mountain rubbing conditioner through their hair as their sobbing died down into something quiet. He helped them dry off and put into clean clothing, boxers and a shirt that was definitely not theirs. He opened the bathroom door and their nose twitched. It led them to their nightstand, where a bowl of oatmeal sat. Mountain sat them on their bed, the covers and pillows no longer feeling heavy but warm and comfortable, and crawled in himself. He whispered kind words as they carefully ate, the bowl warm against their thighs. They set the bowl back down after a few bites, stomach still upset from their mental turmoil of the day. Mountain didn’t complain, though. He praised them as he tucked the two of them in.

Rain hid themselves away into his chest, arms cautiously wrapped around his waist. He purred loud enough for the next room over to hear. They rubbed their head against him in an attempt to scent him, his scent lulling them into a soft mindset and heavy eyes.

“Mount,” they slurred into his skin. He hummed in question.

“Thank you.” 

He shifted a hand to their still damp hair and began scratching at their horns. They began to purr as well. 

[feelbokkie]

Potion Mayhem

Feeltober Day 1

genre: slight angst, fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: Seungmin should really leave the potion making to you.

pairing: Seungmin x witch!reader

warnings: swearing

word count: 1,128

©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

☀️Feelbokkie M.list ☀️

👻13 Days of Feeltober👻

In Seungmin’s defense, he did the same things that you did. Okay, maybe not the exact same things. He left out all the hocus pocus mumbo jumbo and the waving of hands, but the important part of making anything is the ingredients, right?

Wrong.

Seungmin woke up with a sore throat this morning and you were nowhere to be found, off doing something that required you to be out of the house before he woke up. He's seen you make the potion that heals his throat a million times, he figured he could manage on his own.

He should have just waited until you got home.

"Seungmo, I'm home! You will not believe the morning I've had." You called when you entered your shared home. Well, it's your home but Seungmin is there often enough that it might as well be his too.

The silence that rang through the house confused you. You check your phone to see what time it is. It's almost noon. Seungmin should be up right now.

"Seungmin?" You call out again as you walk to the kitchen. It's very much possible that he left already. You know he has a big comeback performance tonight and he probably went to rehearse with the rest of the guys before they had to leave. Normally, he'd leave you a note on the fridge if he left while you were out or asleep. But instead of a note, you find the kitchen messy.

You furrow your eyebrows together as you check every room in the house looking for him. Seungmin leaving a mess in the kitchen doesn't worry you, it bothers you. Seungmin is a stickler for tidiness. He's always on you for keeping your messy workstations when potion making, there's no way he would just leave the kitchen like that unless something was wrong.

You breathe out a sigh of relief when you find Seungmin sitting in the bedroom. His back is towards you and he's hunched over something. You walk into the room and flop down next to him.

"Thank god, I thought something terrible happened. Didn't you hear me come in?" You press a kiss into his cheek. The sudden wetness takes you off guard. Seungmin turns his head to face you and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. His eyes are red and glossy from crying. His face is red, splotchy, and tear-stained.

"What happened? What's wrong?" You ask quickly, instinctively wiping his tears and trying to read his face.

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, making more tears fall from his eyes.

"You lost your voice? Is that all?"

He glares at you as you take a sigh of relief.

"I was just worried that something had happened. But your voice being gone is fine. I can just whip you up a batch of that throat healing potion and you should be fine for the show tonight--" You start to get up to work on the potion but Seungmin quickly grabs your arm to stop you. You turn to face him again and he quickly shakes his head.

"You're in tears because you can't even talk and you don't want me to fix it?" You ask puzzled. You know what singing means to Seungmin. Hell, you know how important performing for Stay is to him. You're not entirely sure why he wouldn't want you to help him. Especially if he's been reduced to tears over it.

He tries talking again. You try your best to read his lips but you're getting nowhere.

"I can't read lips, Minnie." You say softly, trying to console your boyfriend, who now has a look of distress.

He pauses, trying to figure out how to talk to you. You watch as his face suddenly relaxes and he pulls out his phone. You watch as he quickly types something out.

Buzz, buzz

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You quickly dig it out and see a new message from Seungmin.

I may have done something that is considered Hyunjin-level stupid.

"What did you do?" You ask, looking at him. His eyes are glued to his phone as he starts typing again.

I tried making the potion on my own

"Excuse me?" You ask quickly. He knows you heard him

Is there some kind of reversal spell or potion?

You've warned Seungmin about magic so many times it's not even funny. When you first told him, he didn't take you seriously but over time respected your craft. But there are still times when he doesn't understand the complexities or seriousness of magic. You told him to never try to replicate anything on his own and for the first time in his life or to haphazardly repeat the phrases you say when spell casting. He, for the most part, obeys. Unfortunately for him, the one time he decided to not listen, he gets in trouble.

"No, there isn't. It's permanent. Seungmin, you really fucked up." At first, he thinks you're joking and smirks. But the longer you're quiet and not even smiling at him, the more it sets in that you're telling the truth.

He stands up from the bed and looks up at the ceiling. He's either trying not to cry or prevent you from seeing him cry. Either way, you can't let him suffer anymore.

"Seungmin, I'm joking! It's not permanent."

You've never seen him move so fast in your life. He stares at you, jaw dropped in disbelief. He quickly pulls out his phone again and types something.

That wasn't a funny joke

"I know, I know. But listen, I know you don't take magic seriously. But I tell you constantly to not fuck with it. You're lucky it's a temporary curse. But it does last about 72 hours.

I can't not talk for 3 days

"I know, I have a solution. Just relax." You pull him down to the bed so he can stay near you

"No more touching magic unattended. Got it?"

He nods his head frantically as you say the incantation. You finish the incantation and press your lips into his to finish the spell.

"Well --wow, never mind. Thank you, Y/n."

You pull out your phone and start typing a message to Seungmin. A few seconds later, you press send.

Shut the fuck up. Just do well tonight because I will be making this your problem later.

"I know you will. But thank you, I love you."

You sign that you love him too, the only bit of sign language you know. He kisses your cheek before getting up to go brush his teeth.

"I get 3 days of peace and quiet!" You hear him whisper excitedly under his breath as he leaves the room. Annoyed, you levitate a pillow and send it straight for his head.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

Taglist

@amyyscorner @puppysmileseungmin @veedoesntknaur @its-hannjisung @marked-unknown @honeypaintedskies @jaydebow @want2besomeoneelse @lanatheawesome @starlostastronaut

[practically-an-x-man]

Person A hides being sick/injured from person B as to not worry them. Until they can't hide it any more and collapse and person B has to take care of them.

Ooh this is such a Prometheus prompt!

____ Dust to Dust

Word Count: 1.2k Content Warnings: injuries, mild body horror ____

The nightmares did not go down easily tonight.

By the time Prometheus staggered over to him, chiton torn and grip loose on their spear, the Corinthian himself was nearing his limit. He was more than prepared to suggest they call it a night, make their way back to the house at the edge of the Dreaming and savor a few hours of rest before their next batch of dreamers.

But something struck him as off. Prometheus' posture was more than tired, more than guarded. There was something wrong.

"You alright, sweetheart?" he found himself asking, already reaching to steady them as soon as they were within reach. Prometheus took an extra step, subtly ducking away from his hand before he could catch their waist. Another person might not have noticed. But it caught his eye, and he frowned.

"Fine." Prometheus muttered, shaking their head a little, "C'mon, that's enough for tonight. Let's get back to the house."

That struck him as incredibly odd. Prometheus had gotten better about rest, in the time that had passed since he met them, but it still took a near-Herculean effort to pull them away from their dreamers. And if he hadn't been the one to convince them to turn in for the night... something else had.

The Corinthian let his eyes drag over their figure a second time, finally noticing the way their free hand hovered over their stomach, the way they winced with every step they took, the way they leaned on their spear like a crutch.

Prometheus was injured. Badly. Normally they were better about hiding their pain.

"What happened?" he asked, the words coming out quick and barbed.

"Got caught by one of their swords. I'm fine. Let's go."

"That doesn't sound..."

"I've been through worse. We can just-"

But they took another step, and their knees buckled under them. The Corinthian surged forward to catch them, finding a grip on their arm and holding them upright as they recovered their balance.

This was bad. Very, very bad.

Prometheus moved, trying to pull out of his grasp, but the Corinthian only tightened his grip. Prometheus just sighed, but quit trying to duck away from him

With dread rising in his stomach, he pushed aside the torn fabric of their chiton.

There was no blood, of course, but golden sand spilled from the wound in almost fluid ripples. Already the edges of the gash were dissolving, the sand spreading in a strange sort of necrosis. It was a slow shift at first, Prometheus fighting it with everything they had, but it became clear all too quickly that this was a losing battle. The wound just kept spreading, their body fracturing into sand.

The Corinthian's breath caught in his throat. To be sent back to the Dreaming now... it was little better than a death sentence. If Morpheus was there, if he noticed their arrival, he'd rewrite them back into the nightmare they once were - a cold, heartless shadow, nothing like his Prometheus.

Desperately, with hardly a thought in his mind, he found himself moving again. He pressed his palm to their stomach, a futile effort to keep the sand from spilling out. The wound was already the size of his hand, and continuing to spread.

Prometheus' hand caught his arm and held on tight. Their eyes were bright and intense, fixed on his face.

"It'll be okay." they promised. Their hand slid down his arm, until they linked their fingers with his and pulled his hand away from the wound in their stomach. Sand spilled out, faster and faster, eating at their body like a virus. Prometheus grimaced, their grip tightening on his hand.

"It'll be okay," they repeated, but this time he saw a glimmer of fear, flickering behind the firelight in their eyes, "I'll come back. Just wait for me, I'll- I'll always come back."

"No, baby..." He hated how pained his voice was, how thick with emotion. Prometheus winced again, more heavily, and nearly staggered as the sand began to overtake their hips and thighs. They let their spear fall from their hand, and it kicked up a cloud of dust when it hit the earth.

They stumbled again, this time falling almost into his chest as their legs began to crumble. The Corinthian caught them before they could fall, wrapping his arm around their back even as he winced at the sand that fell loose at his touch. Prometheus clutched at the lapel of his jacket with trembling fingers. The veil of resolution on their face had shattered, and he could see fear through the cracks.

But they swallowed hard, a familiar determination falling across their expression like an iron wall.

"Don't do anything stupid," they told him, with fire flickering behind their eyes, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Prometheus-"

"There's nothing else to do," they cut him off, "I'll be careful. Wait for me at the house."

Their words made something bitter rise on his tongue. If Morpheus truly did discover them, send them back... he'd be waiting forever, pacing the same four oak walls with nothing else to do. He couldn't bear the thought.

Prometheus shuddered in his arms. They had seconds at best before they were plunged back to the center of the Dreaming. The fact that they'd lasted this long at all, much longer than the slim few moments it usually took, was a testament to their determination- and their fear.

They let go of his lapel, though only to clasp the back of his neck and pull him into a brief, desperate kiss. He couldn't bear to pull back, not until the sand finally finished spreading and they crumbled in his arms.

He was left alone, surrounded only by the lingering wisps of sand at his feet.

There's nothing else to do. Prometheus' words still echoed in his mind. They were right - there was no way he could have stopped the spread of the sand, could have saved them from being pulled to Morpheus' domain. That much was inevitable.

But there was still something he could do about the rest.

The Corinthian pulled his knife from its sheathe and took in a long, slow breath. Then he turned it on himself. The point hovered just an inch from his chest, over the space where his heart would be. Already he could imagine the pain, the unpleasant sensation of his body dissolving into sand grain by grain. He'd experienced it time and time again, and it never got easier.

The Corinthian shut his eyes and plunged the blade into his chest. Pain exploded through his body like a chain of firecrackers. He could already feel the edges of the wound begin to crumble, even as he gripped the knife and dragged it lower. Sand tumbled like blood from his body.

He dropped to his knees, consumed by pain and watching his form decay. The sand spread upwards, consuming his chest, his neck, his shoulders. With the last of his strength, he slid his knife back into its sheathe, secure against his ribs. He'd need it, where he was going.

The only way to protect Prometheus from the dangers of that place...

Was to go there himself.

[techtalksfics]

Author Self-Promotion?! OKAY!! ;)

Rule: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to Ao3. If you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Boy, oh boy. Thanks for nominating @dangraccoon!

I'm gonna put a keep reading here so I don't clog your dashboards with my shite.

If I had Known (Tech x Reader)

AN: Easily one of my most popular Tech works. Reader is jealous of Phee and it just turns super fluffy. Found here.

After your shift ended, you wandered towards Cid's, bag over your shoulder, expecting to find your favourite clones relaxing between missions. That is where they had told you they would be.

Yet, when you arrived, you found the bar to deserted. Looking very much like it did in the days before the Bad Batch came crashing into your world. Why was the bar empty?

Where's Your Toothpick? (Crosshair x Reader)

You and your best friend, Jenshay (or Jen, for short), often frequented 79s, the clone bar. You liked the stories the clones told, you liked that a fight happened every, single time. But most of all, you really liked Crosshair.

The only problem? It would seem that Crosshair did not like you.

You sighed at the thought. Shaking off your insecurities, you finished getting ready for the evening. Choosing out your favourite red dress, which tied at the waist, showed off both your figure and your breasts, you quickly push the dress over your head and pull it down.

Full Fic Here

Rex Ficlet (Headcanon): Making Out

You occasionally found yourself alone with Rex and in various situations that were often brought about by your friend, Anakin. He’d thrown you together in lodgings on missions and bars when there was downtime. He’d even pushed you into a briefing room once when Rex was handing out assignments, he simply looked at you perplexed. But one-night things became very different.

The first night. That first night where you finally caved, turning slowly away from the ways of the Jedi. You felt the end of the war closing in around the Jedi, despair weighing heavy, although you were not sure why.

You were out on the balcony, avoiding the political wolves and the generally unpleasant ambience of the inner gathering.

Full Ficlet Here

Batter Up (Wrecker x Reader)

Wrecker had been away on a mission for quite some time. Longer than usual. Since you'd begun spending more and more time together, it made the absences even more difficult and lonely.

He kept in contact wherever he could but you knew that wasn't always easy for him to, and so you appreciated the effort. He would send you soppy short messages like 'thinking of you' or 'I miss seeing your smile'. These silly little messages always made you smile with glee and almost jump and down on the spot in euphoria. He was thinking about you as much as you were thinking of him.

Sometimes, when they were resting on the Marauder, you'd talk over comms and you'd carry on and on until you could hear him snoring away and his eyes lightly closed. You'd end the transmission, smiling to yourself.

But today's message was different, it simply read, 'I'm coming home'.

Full Fic Here.

Just As You Are (Tech x Reader)

When you walked into Cid's parlour, you could feel that something was different. Very different.

The air was uneasy. All the usual happiness, the playfulness of relaxation was gone.

Yet, the bar was quiet as usual. Bolo and Ketch were certainly normal. Their boisterous laughter was the only sound in the room.

Cid was fixing one of the slot machines and the Bad Batch were not speaking to her and she was not speaking to them. There was a painful silence suspended in the air around them all.

Suddenly, you knew what was different. Your favourite clones were silent, contemplative and one clone was missing. Where on earth was Tech.

Full Fic Here.

Tech Support (Tech x Reader)

You sat under the famous tree of Pabu and scratched the chalk calmly across the paper. You began furiously blending the contours of his face, his cheeks, his jaw, as you remembered them in your mind. But you had only seen him from a distance and currently, he was up in the sky teaching Omega how to fly. So no chance of sketching from a distance, as you'd previously done. The ship frantically swooped low in the sky, causing a sudden gust of wind to bustle around you, flipping the page of sketchbook slightly. You enjoyed the sensation as the hairs on your arm stood on end as the sudden cool chill swept over you. Your head hit the bark as the Marauder rushed past you, disappearing into the distance of the sparse clouds.

The sun shone wildly as it so often did on Pabu. A little piece of paradise that you were now grateful to call home. You raised your hand to cover your eyes as you watched the ship disappear.

Full Fic Here.

Beautiful (Wrecker x Reader)

You looked at yourself in this beautiful scarlet dress. The low neckline was designed to show off certain assets. The chifron sleeves flowed down around your arms, opening at the sleeve. The georgette skirt flowed down to your knees. The dress was beautiful.

You, however, were not. This dress wasn't designed for you. You looked in the mirror and sighed. This dress is too pretty for the likes of me, you thought beratingly to yourself. You felt the tears start falling from your eyes.

Your arms looked fat, your thighs were fat and rubbed together, your waist was too wide, your cheeks too plump. Everything was just ugly.

You had spent two hours getting ready for your date with Wrecker.

Full Fic Here.

Gregor: Making Out (Headcanon/Ficlet)

Rex had come to ask for your help several rotations ago. Clones were being shot, tortured, hunted and they needed a medic. You were one such medic, familiar with clone physiology and an old friend to Rex. So, you couldn’t say no.

Rex opted not to tell you that Gregor was alive, he didn’t want you distracted whilst working. But one fateful day, the Bad Batch brought your secret love home.

“Medic!” Rex voice bellowed through the hall, and you whipped your head around the corner, still wiping the dirt from your hand. You felt your heart race at the prospect of more carnage.

Full Fic Here.

Saviour (Tech x Reader)

You’d been on the planet, scanning the perimeter, just as Saw had asked you to. He always kept you at a safe distance from the drama wherever he could. You had your earpiece in but were playing gentle music as you sat on the tree stump incredibly bored.

That’s when the explosions happened, lighting up the sky before it clouded over with smoke. Well, they’d been successful at least. You watched as the tram line came speeding out of the building and you assumed this had been them.

You stood and removed the earpiece playing music. “Nicely done, Saw,” you mumbled.

But then, you saw someone falling.

Full Fic Here.

It's not goodbye, not really (Echo x Reader)

You were working at Cid's that night. As you did most nights, since landing on that god forsaken planet. Cid had been kind enough to take you in, employ you and find you somewhere to stay.

It was in her bar that you first met her so-called 'mercenaries'. You immediately knew that the bounty on you would be nothing compared to the bounty on them.

It was also the first place you saw him. The stoic clone who seemed to delight in your attention and friendship. You bonded over your stories of being held captive. A certain kind of pain that only a certain kind of person could understand.

After you told him your story, your real story, he insisted on walking you home. He insisted on walking you home every time you saw him after that.

Full Fic Here.

I think that's 10. I also think they're out of order but I cannot for the life of me remember the order I wrote this shit.

I would like to nominate: @littlebluebatbrat, @nahoney22 (although, I think they're on a few people's list), @echos-girlfriend, @captaingregorswife

Lots of love all. <3

[jgvfhl]

The Number Lads Get A Night Out

Let them have nice things :) The lads deserve some relaxation time and some delicious noodles courtesy of the Noodle Grannies themselves. Please enjoy the shenanigans! Also I'm like. So close to 1000 followers??? Thank you??? 💖✨️

Words: ~6K

Warnings: None! Just happiness

Link to Number Lads Master List.

This list includes the link to the story on Ao3, but I will say that version is about... one chapter behind, but it's catching up.

The Chaos Batch's screen names are as follows:

mayhem_man = Nero

Grim Reaper = Sixes

RedBastard = Thire

beefcara = Bacara

mayhem_man: hello sixes

Grim Reaper: Nero

mayhem_man: I have been informed by one of my ARCs that you are… how did he say it

mayhem_man: “gaslight girlboss gatekeeping” the location of the noodle bar

RedBastard: LSKJDFLKAJDSFLKJSDLKFS WHAT

beefcara: What does that mean??

Grim Reaper: Tell Zero snitches get stitches.

RedBastard: ummmm okay but why are you gaslight girlboss gatekeeping??

beefcara: I would like to repeat my question from earlier. What the kriff does that mean??

mayhem_man: it means sixes has been keeping the noodle bar’s location a secret from all but two of his little number pals, including my ARC Zero.

RedBastard: why?

Grim Reaper: Because I could.

beefcara: girlboss??????????

mayhem_man: which of course is not a good enough reason to deny someone noodles

mayhem_man: I will give you until our next leave to rectify this or I’m bringing Firebolt with me next time we go for noodles

RedBastard: oh gods please not them

Grim Reaper: Why are you so dramatic about this, Nero?

mayhem_man: because i can

Grim Reaper: Understandable, have a horrible day

beefcara: I’m still confused

RedBastard: I’ll explain it when I see you next

-scene break-

The commander had always been cryptic, from the moment Nines had known the man. But this was a new level of enigma. He stared at his comm, reading and re-reading the message in the Numbers group comm from Commander Sixes that had arrived minutes ago when the 212th flagship had come out of hyperspace.

What did it mean?

No one had replied to it yet, probably because Sevenset was busy and no one else knew what to make of it. The entire message read as follows:

DEATH: I know some of you lot are due for leave soon. Go have fun.

DEATH: And Zero: snitch to your commander again, and I’m having words with you.

These messages were followed by an unmistakable series of numbers and punctuation comprising coordinates to somewhere… presumably on Coruscant? Why else would he have mentioned leave, after all.

As it happened, the 212th was on a short leave soon, mostly for resupplying and refitting after their previous missions. Nines would admit, he was curious. He hadn’t looked up the coordinates yet because he’d been busy making sure Ghost Co. was set for arrival out of hyperspace, and he would be busy for some time afterwards as they prepared for transport down to the surface. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t have to, considering the Numbers were some of the nosiest troopers he’d ever met, and he lived with Waxer.

So, he reasoned he could just wait long enough and he would find out exactly what the commander had just sent them.

He didn’t have to wait long.

As his and another squad loaded into a transport ship, his comm pinged, so he switched hands holding the handle above him and opened it.

Double Trouble: wait what is that

Double Trouble: holy shit

high fives: where is that?

#1 Boy: oh I know where that is!

Loopy: fascinating

Double Trouble: IT’S THE NOODLES IT’S THAT NOODLE PLACE ELEVNS WAS THERE

d0nut man: FINALLY

DEATH: Zero.

d0nut man: i mean thank you sir

high fives: oh awesome!! Echo wanna go get noodles??

That caught Nines’ attention. Did the 501st have a break too? Maker help the Guard. He shook his head, putting his comm away for the remainder of the flight. At least Do-si-do would finally get his noodle fix and stop complaining about it in the group comm. And, now he considered it, he might join him in that endeavor. Rations were boring, and if he found the place was actually clone-friendly and reasonably priced, he might have to visit.

Turns out, he didn’t have to make that decision, because within a few hours of Commander Sixes gracing the group with the location of this restaurant, the Numbers had figured out who was going to be dirtside, who had a free evening, and Do-si-do had told everyone in those categories to “be there or be square.”

Well. Nines had been wanting to try these noodles. So he made his way over to Little Sriluur on the chosen night, bringing along Wooley, because it was a rare thing for a trooper to wander through nattie neighborhoods by himself. They arrived at the coordinates an hour or so past sunset, and the street was still brightly lit from neon signs and glowing shopfronts.

Nines was still reading his HUD, watching their coordinates as they approached those specified, when Wooley tapped his arm.

“What?”

“Dude, use your eyes, not your scanner,” he said, pointing up.

A lit sign hanging vertically down the side of a building near the end of the walkway read Noodle Bar with a martini glass at the bottom.

“Oh.”

As they got closer, the entrance appeared, an arched doorway with an awning, and a smaller sign above it that read Sun’s Noodle Bar with a picture of a bowl of noodles underneath the words. A steady number of weequay, togruta, and other races filtered in and out of the door.

“Moment of truth?” Nines asked, eyeing the crowds.

“Sure is.”

When they got to the doors, they got a few odd looks from passersby, but nothing short of brief surprise or curiosity. That was understandable. The nearest barracks were whole kliks away. But when they entered, both of them hesitating briefly before finally removing their helmets (it usually made natties feel better), the server at the welcome kiosk just smiled like they were any other customers.

“Are you here with the other troopers?” he asked, perfectly civil.

“Uh… I think so?” Nines answered.

“They’re all upstairs.” He pointed to their left where a staircase began against the wall, disappearing up into a second floor.

Nines and Wooley exchanged glances. “Thank you,” Nines said, trying his best to mask his uncertainty.

As they walked towards the stairs, he glanced around the restaurant’s first floor. The floor plan was basically square, with a round bar at the center with what must be some kind of lift down to the kitchens and up to the second floor. He saw a shadow rise through the column as they walked, supporting the theory. The atmosphere was nice, the walls painted a warm yellow-orange, with dark wooden tables and chairs, deep maroon booth cushions, and intricate geometric designs inlaid into the wooden furnishings. Strings of small lights hung from the ceiling around the walls, over windows, reaching into the center like spokes on a wheel, and rows of them hung over the stairs, illuminating their journey upward.

The second floor was almost like the first, but smaller by about a third. What was a central bar and service station downstairs now stood against one wall to their far right, and a sliding metal door marked “Authorized Personnel Only” stood beside it. Interesting that it would be on the second floor. The walls here were a shade of lavender, if he had to call it anything, but it was warm and welcoming. The furnishings were largely the same as downstairs, as were the strings of lights, but the wall tapestries were different.

Before he had much of a chance to study them, he heard his name called. Looking around, he found Do-si-do waving at him from one of a pair of tables that stood next to each other at one end of the room. He recognized a few others there, as well as a few clones outside of their little group.

“Okay then,” Nines said to Wooley. “Clone-friendly indeed.”

When they got to the table, Do-si-do got up to greet them, which made Nines realize he’d never actually met him in person before.

“Hey, I’m so glad you could make it,” he beamed, offering a hand, then grasping Nines’ forearm enthusiastically when it was given. “Who’d you bring?”

“This is Wooley,” Nines said, turning slightly. “Wooley–”

“I’m Do-si-do,” the pilot cut him off, greeting Wooley in much the same manner Nines had received. “C’mon, have a seat. This place is wizard!”

They took the empty seats at Do-si-do’s table, mainly because he knew the most people there. Fives and Echo smiled and waved at him and Wooley as they sat down across from each other, and Captain Rex nodded from beside Echo. Fours was seated at the other end of the table across from Do-si-do, surprising Nines with his presence at all. This didn’t seem like Fours’ preferred kind of night out. But, it was probably better than a normal bar.

The other table next to theirs was mostly green. He recognized Zero and Commander Nero from the holocall with the other commanders, which had honestly made Cody smile more than he had in weeks at that point, so Nines could excuse the constructed chaos. The other two 118th troopers took a minute. After wracking his brain, he finally realized one of them had a black handprint tattooed over his mouth. Echo’s “Handprint Buddies” then. What were their names? He’d need a reminder. Commander Sixes and Commander Bacara were there as well. Commander Thire must not have been able to take the evening off with his batchmates.

He brought his attention back to his own table when Captain Rex tapped the table with the side of a menu in front of him. “First drink is on the house,” he said.

“Really?” Nines took the menu, glancing around at the others. Echo had something like a Cosmopolitan, the captain had a clear drink steaming in a red ceramic mug, and Fives had a Sunset with some variation on the typical fruit blend.

“Wow.” Wooley’s eyebrows had gone up as he read the menu. “That’s… a lot of margaritas.”

“They are one of our specialties.” A new voice from somewhere behind Nines’ side of the table caught everyone a little off-guard, and Captain Rex had to work not to choke on his own drink. “Those and the sake, which the captain should drink and not inhale.”

Nines twisted around to follow a weequay woman as she rounded their table to stand at its end, dressed in a soft pink layered dress with blue and red accents. She was old, her brown skin wrinkled beyond that of younger weequays, but her grey eyes were warm and bright, and her long braids were decorated with colored ribbons and metal charms.

“Hello, my dears,” she said, putting down a stack of larger menus in the center of the table. “My name is Mira. I am one of the lucky owners of this fine establishment.”

“Hi,” Nines said. “Are you who we have to thank for keeping Elevensies and Ahsoka Tano alive a while back?” He glanced at Fives, who rolled his eyes. He was still a little annoyed about how that whole episode had played out.

“Not me directly, no,” Mira answered. “My wife Saleha took care of that. She’s more… experienced with those things.” Leaving them to wonder what that meant, she looked to him and Wooley. “Can I get you boys some drinks? First one is on the house. Guests of our commanders are always well taken care of. May I know your names?”

Nines glanced up at the other table briefly. Our commanders, was it? Alright then.

Wooley answered first. “I’m Wooley. A jogan margarita sounds amazing,” he said, setting the drink menu down near the edge of the table. “Salt rim, please,” he added before she could ask.

Mira nodded, then turned to Nines. He glanced back over the menu briefly, but he he didn’t really feel like branching out tonight. “Nines. Corellian iced tea for me, thanks.”

She collected their menus. “Those will be right out to you,” she said, and gave a tiny bow before moving on, drifting to the next table over to stand between Commander Nero and Commander Sixes and hand out menus over there.

Do-si-do pounced on the menus, eagerly opening one and starting to scan the pages.

“Someone’s excited,” Wooley remarked, waiting for Fives to pass him one instead.

Echo snorted. “Yeah, well, someone’s been begging Commander Sixes for the name of this place for weeks,” he said, bumping Do-si-do with an elbow.

“And?” the pilot said, his bleached curls bouncing as he looked up sharply. “Have you seen some of these noodle bowls? The dumplings?”

Nines shook his head, his eye once again falling on the empty seat between Fives and Wooley. Fives’ helmet sat on it, and he’d put a protective hand on it when they’d arrived, like he was saving it. “Are we still expecting someone else?” he asked, taking his own menu as it was handed down.

Captain Rex answered. “Ahsoka said she might be able to join us. So… we’ll see.”

He nodded. “That’s nice. I hope she makes it.” No one had heard anything from or about the former Padawan, and he could imagine her brothers were eager to know she was safe.

He opened his menu.

Holy shit.

He kept flipping, and the menu kept going and going. The appetizers seemed endless, and when he'd finally gotten to the end of those, the soup dishes started and went on for a page and a half. Then there was a section for… raw seafood? He'd heard it was a delicacy in many places, but he'd never seen it himself. After that came a section of stir fry and rice dishes, and he honestly had no idea there was so much you could do with rice and vegetables. He glanced up at Wooley as he turned the next page, seeing his own confusion mirrored in his friend's face. After the stir fry came the famous noodle dishes, and he had to admit, they looked magnificent. But he was after dumplings, where were the dumplings?

“Am I allowed to marry food?” Do-si-do asked. “Because I think I want to.”

“Dude, we’re clones, we can’t even marry a person,” Fives replied with a frown.

“No, he has a point,” Echo said, pointing to the menu. “I’d marry this spiced nuna ramen.”

“You haven’t even tried it yet,” his brother said.

Their captain smirked behind his own menu. “And you don’t know if you’re its type, Echo.”

Echo gasped. “Rex, I am a delight. It is a known fact that I will get a boyfriend before Fives does.”

“A known fact?” Fives demanded, setting his menu down on the table. “Since when?”

Nines shook his head, glancing briefly down at Fours and Do-si-do. The Marine was practically hiding behind his menu, and probably would be until it was taken away. Do-si-do, amazingly, had forgone examining the noodle offerings to lean over for all the gossip he could get from the conversation happening next to him. Typical Do-si-do. When he looked over to Wooley, he saw his friend’s eyebrows were lopsided as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. At least he’d had some experience with the 501st before. Throwing someone off the deep end with those guys was just mean.

Captain Rex cooly sipped his sake. “Since Echo asked everyone in your squad which of you would get a partner first, and everyone said Echo. You were asleep.”

“What?” Fives said, his utter indignation making everyone except Fours smile at least. “When–why did you–what? And since when are you a delight, Echo? You’re a kriffing menace!”

While the conversation descended into batcher banter, Nines leaned forward and told Wooley, “This is why Commander Sixes and his batch call the five-oh-first ‘Rex’s Freaks,’ by the way.”

His friend nodded. “Yeah, I can understand that.”

Finally, when the conversation had truly started going downhill, Captain Rex set down his menu and put a hand on Echo’s head. “Domino. Domino, we’re in a public setting.”

“Echo started it.”

“You took the bait.”

“Domino. Please.”

Echo smirked and went back to his menu, and his captain finally removed his hand from his head. Nines had a lot of respect for Captain Rex, and most of it went towards his abilities to wrangle his troopers and General Skywalker at the same time. Cody had his respect for much the same reason, only it applied to Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, as well as the rest of the 7th Sky Corps. Also Cody was awesome.

While the two ARCs had been having their discussion, Nines hadn’t noticed Commander Nero moving from his seat at the other table until he was already standing near the end of their table. His presence made them all sit up a little taller. Okay, well everyone except Fours, who sat bolt upright immediately. Some things didn’t change.

Captain Rex looked up. “Commander.”

“I’m always amazed at how effective ARC training is on the field,” Commander Nero said.

“Oh, I am too, sir,” the captain said, looking to Domino.

Echo sniffed. “Why Rex, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Fives stuck his tongue out at him.

Commander Nero smiled briefly. “Anyway,” he said, “I wanted to let you all know it means a lot to Mira and her wife that you guys are here. They love having clones around, so if you’re ever on Trip Zip and need somewhere to eat, they’d be thrilled.”

“I’m just glad Commander Sixes finally gave us the location,” Do-si-do said, eyeing the commander at the other table. He must have noticed, because he brought his right hand to his face and very pointedly scratched his nose with his middle finger.

“Yeah, well, he’s a stubborn bastard,” Commander Nero smiled. “We all are, truthfully, just he and Bacara are a bit more petty about it.”

“Banthashit!” Commander Bacara called over. “You’re worse.”

Captain Rex raised an eyebrow at him. But further conversation was interrupted by a cheerful voice from the bar on the far side of the tables.

“A jogan margarita and a Corellian iced tea?”

Nines couldn’t help the smile from forming on his face, and he watched Fives, Echo and Captain Rex all cycle through expressions of shock and disbelief before breaking into huge smiles.

Ahoska came to stand next to Commander Nero, and he moved a little to the side to let her set down the drinks by Nines and Wooley. She still wore her akul headgear, although her Padawan beads were gone, but she seemed happy enough regardless. Her robes and armor had been replaced by a dark red shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black pants and shoes, and a tan apron tied around her waist where her lightsabers used to hang.

“I had the iced tea,” Nines said, and she set down the glasses in front of each trooper.

Then she darted around Commander Nero to Captain Rex and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. “Hey, guys!”

“Soka!” Fives grinned.

“So this is where you ended up, eh?” Echo asked, reaching up to pat her shoulder when she hugged him.

Commander Nero shrugged. “Well, Saleha took a liking to her, and they’ve always had a spare bedroom in their apartment upstairs, so.”

Ah, that explained it. These women were serial adopters apparently, given the earlier comment about “our commanders.” Good. They seemed like good people. Ahsoka came around the other side of the table as the 118th’s commander retreated to his own, taking the seat Fives’ helmet had been saving for her. She hugged him like she had his brother and captain before she sat down.

“Hey, Commander,” Echo called over, and of course all three of them looked up. They seemed to figure out who it was for, and then only Commander Sixes was paying attention. “Did you know by depriving us of this location you were also depriving us of our little sister–”

“Shut up, Echo.”

Captain Rex snorted. “I’m glad you’ve found a place, Ahsoka.”

She smiled. “Yeah. I guess I kind of have the uh… Numbers here to thank for it,” she said, looking around the table. “If you guys hadn’t found Elevensies and introduced him to Commander Sixes, that whole thing would have been a lot uglier.”

Do-si-do beamed. “Well, you’re welcome for dragging everyone into it.”

Soon after Ahsoka appeared, Mira returned, and Nines finally tried his drink. He had to admit, it was damn good. He nodded at Wooley, who looked just as pleased with his.

The old weequay stood at the end of their table. “Is everyone ready, or should I give you more time?”

Everyone looked around the table, waiting for objections. Nines shrugged. “Looks like we’re ready,” he said. “Do-si-do?”

The pilot nodded seriously. “I was decanted ready.”

Mira smiled. “Aiya, let’s not keep you waiting.” She produced a small datapad and a stylus for it, then looked up expectantly.

One by one, they gave their orders. Ahsoka gave hers without even glancing at a menu, but she had been living here for a couple months now. Lucky girl, from what Nines had seen coming out of the kitchens around them. Perfect spot for a growing carnivore. He himself ordered a dumpling sampler with a side of Shili kybuck soup, and he was very much looking forward to trying everything.

When Mira had collected their menus and gone to the other table, Echo leaned forward to talk to Ahsoka. “So? How is it on the outside?”

She paused, looking down at her folded arms on the tabletop. “It’s… so different,” she said finally. “I mean, of course, I miss you guys, and I miss Anakin and Obi-Wan all the time. I don’t miss getting shot at, though.”

They laughed. Captain Rex raised his cup. “I will drink to that. You’re a lot safer here than with us, kid.”

“Yeah. I still think… I still think leaving was the best thing for me at the time,” she went on, her gaze once again falling. “I was just so confused and… and angry. And I knew the Jedi could have taken care of me–I could have taken some time off the field and did what Barriss did, take some time to recenter but…” She shook her head. “I dunno. After all that scrutiny from the Senate, and what happened to Barriss with those conspiracy theory goons?”

They nodded. They all knew the mixed emotions that had followed the tribunal and general hubbub around the Temple bombing. Ahsoka had faced the brunt of it.

“You’ve earned some time to yourself,” Captain Rex said. “I’m glad you’re getting some.”

She nodded. “How is everything, though? I can’t get the same information I used to.”

Nines shrugged. “War rages on.”

Fives added, “Rex finally managed to get a promotion to stick to Hardcase.”

His captain rolled his eyes and shook his head as Ahsoka’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Really? How?”

This wouldn’t have anything to do with this new rumor Nines had heard, would it…?

The captain spread his hands a little, leaning back in his chair. “The five-oh-first finally has its own demo team. And I appointed Hardcase as their leader.”

“That sounds like a nightmare,” Wooley said.

“It’s insane,” Echo agreed.

“But it’s working!” Fives grinned. “He reports to Jesse, and Jesse works though most of the stupidity by the time Echo gets it, and it’s working!”

“Go figure,” Ahsoka said, smiling along. “Are they any good?”

The captain nodded. “They’re effective, yeah.”

“Happily effective,” Echo added.

“Huh,” Nines said, his gaze drifting over to the 118th troopers. Didn’t they have an entire company dedicated to blowing things up? Firestorm? Something like that. He’d have to pick Zero’s brain about it. Hell, maybe Captain Rex should meet up with their commanding officer to get some advice.

Turns out, he wasn’t the only one on that train of thought. Fives leaned back and tapped one of the Handprint troopers–the other ARC. “Hey, Pixel.”

Pixel twisted around. “What?”

“What’s that name of that group you’ve got that blows up everything?”

Pixel’s brows rose. “Firebolt Company, why?”

Fives gestured to Captain Rex. “Firebolt Company! See, I told you, they have an even bigger version.”

The uninformed newcomer to the conversation shot a confused look at Echo, who explained. “Torrent Company just made our first dedicated demo team, we might need some pointers.”

“Ooh, cool!” The other Handprint trooper had turned around too, his smile distorting the black handprint tattooed over his mouth. Ouch… “How big is it?”

By that point, the other members at the far table had started listening along.

“Why are we talking about Firebolt?” Commander Nero asked, shooting a cautious glance at Commander Sixes and receiving a very eloquent raised eyebrow in response.

“Why are we shouting across a table when we could just move them together?” Commander Bacara said, and he did make a good point.

“Okay, okay, no one likes a know-it-all,” Commander Nero replied, getting slightly confused looks from the other commanders. Then he stood up and gestured to the tables. “Well? Were you just saying things to hear your own voice? Let’s go.”

Luckily for everyone around (and there weren’t many patrons nearby), they were military men, and they accomplished the simple task with nothing short of battlefield precision. Commander Nero gave the orders and directed Zero, Pixel, and the other trooper to help Fives and Echo move the chairs from between the tables, and there would undoubtedly be a little rearranging of seats to be done once the other chairs wouldn’t quite fit on either end. But, the other table had had two empty seats, so the end result wasn’t too squished.

Wooley ended up next to him instead of across from him, and once everyone was seated again, Commander Nero prompted Captain Rex to explain himself, which he did. Largely, the conversation was meaningless to Nines. He had no desire to be much of an officer, or be anywhere near a demo team in the field. But, the captain seemed to enjoy picking the other commander’s mind, and he would no doubt need the advice, from what Nines recalled of the stories about Hardcase.

Beside him, he saw Ahsoka lean over to Echo from where she sat between the two ARCs. “Where are you guys headed next?” she asked, a bit quieter than the conversations around her.

Echo took a drink from his conical glass, glancing around at the other patrons he could see. He finished his scan of the area and set down his glass to trace out words on the table top.

Ringo Vinda.

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. “Mid-rim, right? Space station or planet?”

“Station.”

She nodded again, her expression sharpening minutely. Battles in space were more dangerous by far than those fought dirtside. One wrong explosion, and a whole platoon could be sucked out into the cold crush of space. She knew that. She was what? Seventeen? Eighteen? And she knew that.

He shook his head, taking a drink himself to shake the concerns that brought. There was no use in them. War was war, and the Jedi had joined.

“Just you guys, or is there another battalion going?” Ahsoka asked, yet another astute inquiry.

Echo once again traced on the table. 962.

“That’s… Masters Tiplee and Tiplar, right? The twin sisters.”

Twins? Nines had no recollection of learning about any twin generals on Kamino, but his time on Kamino had been a lifetime of battles ago. He knew what he needed to know, and if he needed to know more, he’d take the time to learn.

Echo nodded. “Commander Doom is their CC.”

“Looking like an easy one, or… no?”

The ARC shrugged. “Can’t tell from here. Shouldn’t be terrible, though.” It was impossible to tell if he said that genuinely, or as a way to assuage her regret at being unable to go help them win. Both was just as likely as one or the other.

He paused his eavesdropping when Wooley nudged his elbow. “Why don’t more clones know about this place?” he wondered, looking around. “I mean no one’s even given us weird looks, and there’s almost a dozen of us. Including Domino.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“Fine, they’re being civilized, I know, whatever. You get my point.”

Nines nodded his understanding. “I do, I do. I guess the commanders come here often enough for it to be… normal?”

They both looked over to the three commanders.

Commander Nero was still engrossed in regaling some story to Captain Rex, his eyes shining with utter delight as he used his hands to gesture at what could only be a truly thunderous explosion in the narrative. Commander Sixes sat on his other side, deep in conversation with Commander Bacara next to him. They weren’t even looking at each other, the Marines commander looking down at the table top, his finger tracing and retracing the inlaid pattern in the wood as he talked. But he was clearly just as engaged in the conversation as his brother, who was talking fixedly at a point by the stairs. The conversation seemed to concern some level of violence, because he saw the commanders both gesticulate at least once each like they were ripping something apart with their hands.

Regular, sure. Commonplace, perhaps.

“Normal might be a stretch,” he said aloud.

Wooley snorted. “Well, we’re genetically engineered soldiers. What’s normal got to do with it?”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

They didn’t have much longer to wait until the doors of the large lift opened behind the bar and a whole half of the bar swung open to accommodate the large serving carts that arrived. There was a pair of them, the first of which Mira pushed, the cart hovering a few inches off the ground like a landspeeder might. But Nines’ attention rested on the old weequay only momentarily, because behind her, now backlit from the lift as the doors closed, was, by comparison, a towering togruta pushing a similar cart.

Judging by her age and the familiarity with which this togruta manoeuvered around Mira and the tables, this had to be the other owner. He hadn’t learned her name yet, but they made quite the pair together. Mira’s wife was about two feet taller than her, with warm red-orange skin, rich fuschia stripes on her montrals and lekku, and glittering metal and jewels adorning her nose, brow, arms, hands, and lekku. Dark red fabric draped over her shoulder and wrapped around her waist over a long black dress, all embroidered with flowers and small birds.

She came to their side of the table while Mira went to the other side. “Hello, gentlemen,” she said. “My name is Saleha. I believe you’re all ready to eat, yes?”

Do-si-do was literally gazing at the steaming plates and bowls. “Yes, ma’am.”

She laughed a little, and set about naming the dishes to get them handed out as soon as possible. When she had finished setting out the bowls and other dishes, including little bottles and bowls for various sauces, she asked, “Does anyone want cutlery instead of chopsticks?”

Nines blinked, looking down around his bowl and plate and realizing there were no forks or knives, just… two sticks and a spoon. He saw Wooley doing the same beside him. Looking up and around, he saw the three commanders with their gloves and vambraces off, skillfully manipulating their noodles around with the chopsticks like they’d been doing it for years.

Lucky bastards probably had been.

“I’d like some,” he said, giving a somewhat sheepish smile.

“Yeah, me as well, ma’am,” Wooley added, and Captain Rex and Echo followed suit.

Saleha put down forks and knives wrapped in red napkins for them, then moved away, pushing the cart back to the lift with her wife. Nines saw Echo’s face pinch into a little frown as he unwrapped his fork.

Ahsoka asked what he was wondering. “I thought you knew how to use chopsticks, Echo.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, “but ever since getting all those burns up my arm, it’s not very comfortable.”

“Well, you’re still better at it than me,” Nines offered. “I never even learned.”

Echo smiled, twisting a bundle of noodles onto a fork and blowing on them to cool them down. “Fives kept dragging me to these takeout places where they handed ‘em out. We got curious and looked up how to use them on the ‘net.”

He nodded back, sipping tentatively at a spoonful of soup.

Oh wow, that was good.

Everyone must have thought similarly, because the table was almost entirely void of conversation as everyone started eating. He was a little glad the soup had some spice in it, so he couldn’t inhale it in two seconds the way his brain and stomach were wanting him to do.

Wooley, who had also ordered some dumplings, reached to take one of the bottles of sauce Saleha had delivered with their food. “What is this?” he said, turning it to read the label. He looked up across the combined tables. “Commanders?”

The three looked up at the same time, which was kind of amusing.

Wooley held up the sauce. “What are these?”

Commander Nero answered. “Oh, that one’s the homemade hot sauce,” he said, pointing with his chopsticks to the bottle of orange sauce. “That’s better for the soups or noodles if you want extra kick. That one,” he said, pointing to the bottle of brown liquid on the table, “is called soy sauce, and it is amazing, and should go on and inside of your dumplings.”

Nines couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the immediate and comprehensive reply. Wooley smiled at it, and said, “Sir yes sir,” so just Nines and Pixel either side of him could hear. They both smiled at it.

While Wooley filled one of the tiny bowls with the dark brown sauce, Nines couldn’t help his curiosity. “Commander Nero, may I ask how exactly you found this place?”

All of the 118th troopers’s heads pivoted to their CO, eager anticipation visible on almost all of their faces. Pixel seemed a more subdued soldier than Zero or the other one.

Commander Nero glanced at them, then looked at Nines. “No, you may not.”

The 118th troopers deflated slightly. Well then.

“He was drunk and committing crimes,” Commander Bacara said.

“I can kill you in your sleep,” his brother replied breezily.

“My room’s booby trapped beyond recognition, you’d never make it two steps inside.”

“I can still firebomb–”

Commander Sixes cut them off. “Maker’s sake, will you two just eat your damn noodles?”

The two commanders eyed each other and went back to eating their damn noodles.

There was a brief pause before he heard Captain Rex say, “I don’t want to hear it, Fives.”

Presumably, Fives was about to point out that the commanders were allowed to have their disagreements, but he and his batchmate had been silenced too soon. After another pause, slightly longer than the last, the trooper whose name still escaped Nines spoke up.

“Commander Bacara, what did you mean when you said you room is booby trapped beyond recognition?”

Before Commander Nero had a chance to cut in, the Marines commander answered, “It means you’d be dead in about three seconds if they’re armed and you walk in like an idiot.”

Nox blinked. He looked at Fours, who nodded seriously. “You’re allowed to do that, sir?”

“Of course he’s not, Nox,” Commander Nero said. “But what doesn’t get reported doesn’t exist.”

Zero nudged Nox. “Yeah, like your secret stash no one’s supposed to know about?”

Nox’s eyes went comically wide. “No! You didn’t!”

“I didn’t!” Zero assured him. “It’s fine. I may have simply helped myself to a finder’s fee–”

“No! Commander!”

“What do you want me to do about it, Nox?” their commander said. “He found it fair and square. Get better at hiding your stuff, you’re in Whisper Co.”

Nox sighed, glaring at Zero as he returned to his bowl of noodles. “Yeah, they’re also in Whisper,” he muttered. “That’s the problem.”

The whole evening followed a quiet repetition of little discussions working up into small disagreements until it was shut down by someone else–and honestly, in Nines’ experience, that was how a lot of interactions with clones tended to go. They were soldiers, they spent their time trying to make dying feel like a worthwhile proposition, so their methods of letting off steam were usually a little coarser than the average civvy. But it was nice.

It was weird as hell, but it was nice.

The food was absolutely as good as Do-si-do had hoped, if his silence and constant smile were anything to go by. Before he’d started eating, he’d managed to find the self-control to take a picture of his bowl of ramen to send it to the Numbers chat so Sevenset could see it. He had the feeling those two missed being able to see each other in person more than the rest of the bunch, so he was glad Sevenset got to be included somehow. Rancor must be on a mission or asleep, though, because they didn’t get a reply that evening.

Mira and Saleha were coming and going fairly frequently. He figured as the owners, they had plenty of other people managing the place for them, so they flitted around, making sure everything was going smoothly, but that still left them with plenty of time to come talk to the commanders or Ahsoka. They just seemed so nice, it honestly amazed him. The commanders–even Sixes and Bacara, the rougher, gruffer of the three–let them pat their shoulders or put a hand on their heads like they were cadets.

Their kindness and open compassion even worked a little magic on Fours. The quiet Marine actually blushed a little under Mira’s compliments to his hair, and Nines caught him holding a brief conversation with Fives a little later on, although it was far too quiet to hear across the table. Seeing that, Nines knew those women could be trusted.

He just knew.

Warm happy feelings, yes? Yes. @mercurydancer @23-bears @theultimatesandwich @rndmpeep @soclonely as usual, let me know if you want to be added to the tags!

[milkytheholy1]

Star Wars Masterlist (NEW)

Tech:

There’s no reason to be sad - Tech x GNReader

Have a load of trash, think of it as a sequel of sorts to Starlit Night. It can also stand as its own thing, there's no real connection between the two and its mainly just me rambling. Enjoy!

Feelings - Tech x GNReader

A little story of how tech and the reader first meet. Like love at the first sight or something :3 idk maybe Tech a bit at a distance because he cannot classify these new feelings and so the reader thinks he hates (Y/N) 

A beeping feeling - Tech x GNReader

A sitcom reality: Tech x Female reader

If you can tell where I stopped writing this then recently got back into it, extra brownie points for you. Enjoy this crap!

Why did you go? - Tech x GNReader

New trailer just dropped and I'm sad.

Howdy everyone, today I offer you a new Tech fic...mayhaps even a series? I was very much inspired by Wandavision but the plot doesn't really fit with the show so you don't have to worry about that. Hope you enjoy and perhaps want more because I have some cool ideas for this series if it goes ahead!

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Sober suspicions - Tech x GNReader

Woah, I actually released a fic on Tech Tuesday, I swear that never happens? Anyway, have this crappy excuse of a story! Would anyone like to see a part 2 for this because I've got some ideas in mind?

Drunk confidence - Tech x GNReader

Okay, so here's part 2 to Drunken Confidence! Hope you all enjoy it and let me know if you want more Tech content!

Infested - Tech x Female reader

Howdy, so this is pretty long and essentially took me all day to do so have fun reading it! It's entirely based on today's episode, lucky number 13, so definite spoilers lie ahead! Enjoy!

Coffee run - Tech x GNReader

Howdy, another Tech fic because I love him. Also, I'm probably not the first person that said it, but I totally called that no one could drive the ship unless they read like all the manuals and knew how to fix it, I totally said Tech would be the kinda guy to do that and I think it's pretty funny how it's kinda confirmed in the latest episode. Anyway, without further ado, the new fic. Enjoy!

Singer in a smokey room - Tech x Female reader

Okay so I've had this idea for a fic before but never got around to writing it, and I'm super obsessed with this song and the movie it came from; it's one of my fav movies ever made. It's a little long but probably worth it, if you know the movie I'm referencing leave a comment below! Enjoy!

A baby for hire - Tech x GNReader

"Keep up, wouldn't want you getting lost now would we?" he bartered, flicking his head in your direction. He caught your harsh gaze, trying hard to hold back a smile at the state of your hair.

Starlit night - Tech x GNReader

I'm not going to lie, I really just wanted to write a Tech fic but had literally no ideas for it so have this garbage. Enjoy!

Good soldiers - Tech x GNReader

Oh mi gosh guys I actually did it! Somehow I managed to write it all before 10.30, it's a little crap but oh well, I just need more Tech content tbh. Now this is based on episode 7, so definite spoilers for that episode, so read at your own risk. Anyway, let me know if you want more bad batch fics and enjoy!

Flying lessons - Tech x GNReader

Howdy everyone, so I've been wanting to do a Tech fic since I first saw episode one of the new series. Now I will admit I haven't seen season 7 of clone wars, I'm actually only up to season 3, so I'm a little scared if I've messed anything up; but I'm sure you'll tell me! Hopefully, I'll get more confident in writing for these characters, until then, enjoy!

Hunter:

In the past - Hunter X GNReader

You calmed down your excited breathing, but couldn't knock the smile from your face "I couldn't help but wonder if I was in the correct location of Clone Force 99?" Your hands were folded behind your back, but Hunter could hear the creaking of the clipboard, felt how tightly your fingers were gripping the plastic.

The Mandalorian:

The waiting game - Mando/Din Djarin x GN Reader

Book of Boba spoilers - episode five and six.

Dream a little dream of me - Mando/Din Djarin x GN Reader

I was listening to this song and this oneshot idea just came to me and I had to write it down as soon as I could. I'm actually really proud of this and it's currently one of my favourite oneshots I've ever written so I really hope you enjoy it!

Cockpit silence - Mando/Din Djarin x GN Reader

So this is my first StarWars oneshot so be easy on me, also I've been obsessing over The Mandalorian recently and Pedro Pascal as a whole so enjoy this oneshot and If it's good expect more to come!

[neptoons1998]

Rolling dough

Chapter one

Chapter two

A/N: I hope I'm not late tomorrow for work lol. Super sorry it isn't beta, I come back to fix it later, but it wouldn't leave me alone all day today. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Chapter three: Strawberry Frosted

Confectioners sugar, blended fresh strawberries, and a little vanilla extract. It’s important to totally pulverize the strawberries into a near-liquid consistency.

Okoye was many things to different people. But to many she was resilient. She would always come back stronger than ever, or at least that’s what most of her family members thought. Okoye would be lying by saying to buy into that myth about her too. She was is like a rooted tree, unmoving and unchanging. But ever since that “incident” happen, in her pristine wedding dress waiting for a man who was never going to show. Okoye restored back to what she used to when she was little. Avoiding. Was that the best thing to do for a thirty-two-year-old to do, most likely not; but Okoye would rather avoid harmful things in her past rather than face it. 

“Hey, when’s your mystery man coming?” Aneka asked her. She was the only one who hasn’t met  Attuma. Aneka was feeling left out and based on the group chat the description of him from Shuri and Ayo wasn’t enough to tie her over.   

Okoye felt a vein on her left temple pulsing, would it be wrong of me to kick her out today? Okoye thought before pulling up her ladder to the shelf, where they kept all their extra frosting for the donuts at. The shop has a custom order of strawberry frosted donuts. No, not yet..maybe after she does at least half the batch of donuts then kick her out, Okoye’s mind reasoned. She knew she could make two hundred frosted donuts by herself and it wasn’t like Aneka had anything better to do.  

“Like I told you, my sister, and Shuri. He isn’t my man,” Okoye replied as she slowly came off the ladder, and placed the container of frosting on top of the worktable. 

“Yet,” Aneka leaned over the worktable like a cat, lazed about as if she didn’t have any work. Okoye breathes through her nose, “There’s not yet nothing.”  

“Not with that mindset,” Aneka complained, “You know how I got my lovely Ayo to say yes to a date with me?”

“By holding her hostage?” Okoye commented Ayo glowered at her. When I make a joke nobody finds it funny Okoye shook her head.

Ayo rolled her eyes at her, “You’re not funny. No, what I did, I walked straight up to her in and said are you free Saturday?”

“Really?” Okoye being skeptical, “That’s not how Ayo tells the story.”

“What did she say?" Her sister asked. 

“She said some girl was following her around the university. And anytime she would try to talk to her the girl would run away,” Okoye responds to her sister-in-law. 

Aneka stood up straight looking flustered, “Well… that was at the beginning beginning. I’m talking about when we finally started hanging out.”

Okoye surpassed a laugh, “Whatever you have to say to yourself to sleep better at night.”

Aneka gritted her teeth, “Look I know you think we’re a little overbearing but it’s with a reason.”

“I know,” Okoye said, “And just like everyone else. I’m fine and I always bounce back.”

“Are you bouncing back or is it avoiding?” She asked, “Cause where I am sitting. I see the twenty-seven Okoye in her wedding dress waiting for some shit of a  man that too scary to tell her he didn’t want to marry her.”

“What’s your point?” Okoye is irritated by this subject. Can’t they see that she moving on? Okay so she’s not married like her cousins and sister so what? Marriage isn’t for everyone, Okoye just needed some time to understand that. She knew she was a laughingstock in her family, but at least everyone saved face until she left the room. That’s why she hadn’t visited her family in six months too afraid to see the failure in her parents’ eyes. God forbid Auntie Ramonda, which would be way worst. Okoye had never been so grateful that most of their family lived in South Carolina, until recently.

“My point is that. It’s okay that you don’t want to get your feet wet just yet but don’t take forever either,” Aneka voiced out hoping it would reach Okoye. She knew she was still an outsider to her lover’s family but she would be lying if she wasn’t rooting for her sister-in-law’s love life. 

“And I have twenty dollars riding that you guys get a move on,” Aneka commented wanting to get away from the heavy subject. 

“Just start working on the donuts,” Okoye grumbled. She hoped that Aneka would understand enough to know she apprenticed the kind words. 

Attuma made the decision. It took a couple of days but he decided to keep the gym. Based what it needed were some new pieces of equipment and a paint job; and the gym would be up and running. 

“Well I’m off,” Namora said  placing her suitcase to her side, before giving her little cousin a hug, “If you need any help call me.”

“I will,” Attuma said hugging his cousin back, “Call me when you get home.”

Namora nodded at the statement, “Ugh,” As she ended the hug, “Good thing you’re keeping the gym because you have eaten way too many donuts.”

“I’m just a big boy,” Attuma countered back as he patted his belly. Quite as it kept Namora ate way more of the donuts than Attuma. Attuma liked where his teeth were, so no comment. 

“Or you tell the owner you like them and ask on a date?” when Attuma didn’t say anything in her response, Namora rolled her eyes, yeah it’s time for me to go home, “Whatever. Ya later, cousin.”

And with that, his older cousin left him; All of a sudden he was craving deep-fried bread. So he started making his way to Runaway Donuts. 

“Oh!” Aneka was sweeping looking busy until Okoye came back when a customer open the door. Aneka let out a surprised gasp almost tripping over her feet as she came closer to the giant of a man, “You must be Attuma.”

“I am,” Attuma said still confused as continued talking to the stranger. 

“I’m Aneak, Okoye is my sister,” Aneak walked around him before going back to the register, “They were not kidding in the group chat.”

“Group chat?”

“Nothing nothing,” Aneka waved her hand as if she was shooing a pesty fly, “What can I get you, today?”

That was new, normally Okoye was just giving him a box of donuts, and he would buy them, “I don’t really know.”

“It was true, “Aneka muttered under her breath. Okoye would just make a box and he’ll just take it.

“I can give you some time to think about it?” She said telling the man know he would take his time. Attuma nodded there were a lot of decisions but not the one he wanted.

“Do you know where Okoye is at?”

“Okoye? Yeah she had to go to the bank, she should be back sometime later,” Aneka 

Attuma clicked his tongue, “I can wait.”

And with that Attuma sat in one of the too-small booths for him as he waited for Okoye. While Aneka was texting in a separate group chat without Okoye to tell the others what was happening.

[sydnycvwrtes]

congratulations on getting an agent! that’s amazing 🎉 do you mind sharing your querying journey (what was it all like? when you started, how many queries you sent, how many full requests, and other stats? things you expected about querying? things you didn’t expect? lessons you learned? etc?)? just whatever you feel like sharing 😊

Yes!

So tbh I feel like I both had an easier but longer journey. I didn't send too too many queries (in contrast to some folks) but I was querying for a long time. I started when I was 18 for reference, so I queried for almost four years exactly (3 years and 352 days lol) but I took long pauses to overhaul the novel between query batches based on any feed back I'd gotten. I sent queries in batches of 4-6 and didn't send more until I'd gotten responses from everyone from one batch.

So:

33 queries sent (I resent edited queries to the same agents 4 times which feels a little 🧍🏿‍♀️)

6 partial requests (quick bit of advice: different agents have different specific ways they want you submit. It might be annoying to reformat everything, but just do it)

4 full requests (and let me tell you, when I sent fulls to "famous" agents, I was waiting for upwards of half a year, which can also account for the time gap)

1 offer of rep (woohoo!!!!) from an agent I feel really understands my vision for the book, and will be a great representative for me when sub time comes. For revisions, I'm not having to change any plot points, just explain a little bit more stuff so they're not too grueling. Plus I write super fast and that helps lol.

I think querying for so long definitely toughened me up. I was really expecting for the first agent I queried, who I considered a dream agent at the time, to adore my book, sign me immediately, and offer no critiques before we went on sub for three seconds and scored a billion dollar deal (and I queried her TWICE because I was just that hooked up on it lmao). As you can see, that didn't happen. I got some rejections after months, and some after only a few hours. And at the begining? Oh they HURT. They hurt BAD.

And then you get another and another and another, and the sting lessens over time.

I became a lot better at being critical of myself, which I feel like is the most important skill in querying- understanding that you are going to have to make heavy edits, kill your darlings, and just overall refine you book in ways you didn't see before. Even the version I sent to the agent I signed with was far from perfect, and I'm making revisions. And that's okay. It's a step to getting published.

It... Was hard. I had a friend tell me it was just not the right time for my book and to shelve it. I think that hurt more than a rejection. But I knew I wanted to be an author, and I knew I wanted to tell these character's stories, so I just kept working. I rewrote my book more times than I can count since I started writing it at 15. It's just all a very long process, and you have to be patient, and you have to KNOW that this is what you want to do and you're going to do it.

Last weird little tidbits of advice:

I had one person read a very old copy of my book. I had no beta readers. I never hired an editor. Don't do what I did. Beta readers can help you so so much. If you can find someone willing, have them help you!!!

Query that agent! I almost didn't query my agent because they said they were a fan of beautiful prose, and I didn't think I had that. But, after mustering the courage, I finally did and look what happened. Just send the query!! The worst they can say is no!!

If you get personalized feedback from a rejection, that is still really helpful. My book is better now mostly because of my rejection feedback because it was all telling me the exact thing to work on. For me, the writing was fine, but I tended to under-explain things. I got that feedback.... A lot. And I was able to fix it and eventually get an agent (woo!)

(even though my revisions are still centered around explaining oops-)

Anyway, I hope this was helpful! I hope I was able to give you a pretty good picture of my querying time! It was... Definately something!

[pbandjesse]

We just got back from having some drinks and sn as cks at the Guinness brewery. It was a nice way to end the day!! I had a good day today. I am very tired but it was a nice day.

I am getting to the point where I miss work though. I like two or three days off. But even though I worked Wednesday I have been home a lot. And I know there is stuff to do but it's hard to have all this time and not enough direction.

I slept okay last night. I woke up a few times but it wasn't the worst sleep. I slept until 9. I missed James when I woke up for real. And I was sad because they sent me a text saying they were hurting and miss being able to sleep and I feel bad. I don't know how to help. I am encouraging them to be honest and frank with the doctor on Tuesday. I really hope they take them seriously.

I had to deal with some phone calls about the new medication I'm going to be taking. I am still going on Monday and getting the first injection so that's exciting. Also scary. The chemo pills have been upsetting my stomach I think. I have been keeping notes. But it's just one of those things that it's hard to tell what's doing what. Like I always don't feel great so it's hard to decide what is causing what. At least there is progress.

I spoke to my dad for a little. And then got up for real.

I got washed and dressed and was a little uncomfy. But that was okay. I ended up making myself a quesadilla while I made a batch of cookies. I was having a nice morning.

I cleaned the fish tank and the frog tank more. I did partial water changes on both. The frog tank's substrate could still use some more vacuuming I think but we made great progress. It was a lot of work honestly. Lugging buckets back and forth. But it needed to be done.

I decided I could go for a walk. I want to try to move more and I am going to challenge myself to walk around the block every other day at least. Like I don't know if this is an actual challenge I am giving myself. But it's a goal at least. I think it'll help me feel better in the long run.

I saw Mr Will when I got down there so I went back up and got the cookie box for him. And we chatted for a minute. He was replacing our front door lock because poor Nick got mugged. And they took his keys and so just in case he was replacing the lock. I would see Nick later snd he was all red eyed. I felt terrible. I'm glad he is safe, even if they took his things. It apparently happened at 745 last night. Like right after James went to put the recycling in the back. So it is just really scary.

I had brought a watermelon drink with me on my walk. I had a podcast to listen too. And it was a nice walk. I did get overheated pretty fast and regretted bringing my coat. But I had a nice walk. I walked for about 40 minutes.

And once I got home I laid on the couch because I was very tired.

Me and Sweetp laid together for a while. I was trapped. But once he got up I went and made a late lunch. I baked the fries I got at the store yesterday. And some veggie chicken nuggets. It was an excellent meal.

While I was eating Mr Will knocked on the door. And he had a new key for me. And I would end up holding onto the rest of the keys so that our neighbors could come get them from me. But it ended up not being needed as they were mostly around already. The new key is gold.

I caught up on my knitting and I cannot believe tomorrow is the last day. I am so excited to be done. Tomorrow I will have three lines. The last day and then the month lines. And then it comes off the loom!!! I'm so excited. I can't believe it.

James got home and asked if I wanted to go to the Guinness brewery to hang out with Conner and his wife before they left to go back to St Louis. And I said sure.

But it wasn't for a while. So I could just chill in bed for a bit. And James had a snack. And soon enough I was getting dressed again and fixing my makeup and we were off.

I had never been to the brewery but I'd like to go back and do a tour. It was interesting. I got a sprite. And it was Conner and his wife and siblings and their friends. It was a nice time. Eventually we got a table and we got big pretzels and cheese and some other bar foods. The table was a big large and it was hard to talk to the people on the other side but I enjoyed talking to Conner and I had a good time.

James knocked my water over and got their phone a little wet but it seems fine now. I was mostly just having fun looking around. I wanted to look more but I didn't want to wander.

I do love the Guinness tucan. I thought he was a submarine but I know realize he's balancing two pints. Adorable.

It was a really nice night. Conner and his wife had to go to the airport. So we walked out with them and said goodbye. There were some hugs. It was really nice.

We got home and James was very sore. We had some troubling finding a parking space but we got home and got up here. I took a shower and James started trying to get cozy.

I washed my hair and now I'm getting ready to go dry it. I hope I don't disturb James. They have fallen asleep. They look so sweet. I love them so very much.

Tomorrow is the last day of the year. I can't believe it!! I am planning on doing a no buy January. I wrote up rules and stuff for myself. So tomorrow I need to get the yarn I need for my next blanket. I'm excited. I am sad Jess isn't here to do it with me but it will be okay. I hope the last day of the year is beautiful. For you all as well.

Goodnight everyone. Take care of yourselves!! Sleep well!!

[streetlites]

Clara Vista is a beautiful neighborhood in the Uptown District of San Myshuno. The main thoroughfare has large, intricately carved stone buildings on both sides, framing an imposing grey Cathedral. If you meant to get your mama a special present, you’d go here instead of Cascabel Plaza. Likewise, if you really wanted to impress your girl, you’d make a reservation at one of their cafes and pray you were still together a year later when it opened up.  

Roman Alenko was Vera’s uncle. He had a shop off of the Boulevard where he made suits for wealthy men. Though you wouldn’t know it was a shop from the outside; like everything else in Clara Vista, it was nondescript in order to keep regular people out – you only knew it existed if you were invited.

When I was younger, everyone knew you didn’t go to Clara Vista unless you absolutely had to. And, if you did, you didn’t carry nothing but your wallet because you would get stopped. Clara Vista people didn’t want us around and didn’t think twice about calling the cops even if you were just minding your business.

Vera wasn’t the first rich girl I’ve dated. Those girls I knew I couldn’t really expect much from – they’d meet you down in the safe areas off Spice but would never show their faces with you out here. Truthfully, I had expected it from her, too. When she didn’t so much as flinch when I suggested we grab dinner at Le Lis, I tried to reason that maybe it was because she wasn’t from Myshuno.

But The Met Gala? Even I knew it. My sisters would watch the holovids, fascinated with the clothes and the celebrities that attended. Everyone would see me with her. She wasn’t trying to hide me at all. The feeling had me catching myself looking at jewelry shop windows a little too hard...

[curseofaphrodite]

Tulips to kiss you with

TASM!PETER X FEM!READER

collab with @agnesamarantheastwood

summary: after peter moves in as your neighbour, he thought he’d get more of a chance at asking you out. what he did not expect was to get jealous over a flower. a/n: guys guys, writing together with V was the best thing ever and I know she's a writer we all love so it was such an honor too! We wrote two fics, the other one can be found here. Literally the first collab I'm doing but I'm excited and these turned out pretty good. We'll leave the rest for you to judge <3

It wasn’t your intention to burn down Spiderman’s kitchen.

You just wanted to do something nice for your best friend, and making food when he wasn't home would have been considered “nice” if he hadn't explicitly told you not to do it.

Peter knew you better than anyone. So he knew you’d probably forget the oven was on and get distracted by T.V — which was, in his defense, exactly what happened. When you finally took the cookies out, the fire alarm had gone off with all the excessive smoke. You didn’t notice how the water made contact with the electric switchboard too, and only had time to curse when the power was cut off, leaving you in utter darkness.

When Peter burst in through the window with panicked screams and wild hand gestures, he found you standing outside the house with a batch of something that was so burnt that it might as well be charcoal.

“Cookies?” you asked, feigning pleasantness.

“Why did you even- I told you not to—!”

“I tried, okay?” you interrupted, trying to sound apologetic and not defensive. “And I knew I would mess up the cookies so I had some pasta heating too.”

“Pasta?” he froze. “Is that what’s burning? Please tell me you turned off the stove.”

You blinked.

Swearing, he dashed inside the house again, this time looking for the fire extinguisher. After his poor attempt, you did the right thing and called the firefighters. The flames hadn’t spread out to the rest of the house; something you were grateful for.

You were even more grateful that Aunt May had been away at an event. Until she came home to the shock of her life.

“What’s going on?” she asked, confused by the crowds gathering at her house.

“Don’t worry, May,” you said, greeting her at the gate with your best attempt at a smile. “The fire’s out!”

“What fire?”

• • •

That was the story of how Peter and Aunt May became your neighbours for a week, just until their own place was fixed. Your building manager kind of owed you anyways, so he was more than happy to let them stay at a reasonable price.

Maybe not that happy, since you had to negotiate with him for two hours. But you felt much less guilty by the end of it though. You did kind of burn down their house.

• • •

“Did you bring the blankets? The ones I left at the laundry?” May asked, smoothing the pillows on Peter’s bed. They had settled in hours ago, but she was still lingering around, making sure everything looked absolutely like it did in their own house (which was a hard thing to do especially since it wasn't their house.)

“I’ll pick them up in the evening,” Peter said, grabbing the green jacket from the closet. “I have to go buy groceries anyway.”

“What- the groceries? I told you that two days ago! What are we supposed to eat? You have classes and you’re hardly looking after yourself—”

“May, May!” He said sharply, breaking her focus. “We’re going back to our house next week, okay? This is just for a few days. Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out,” she said defensively, then softened. No matter how much she tried to make the place more familiar, she couldn’t build it up with memories of Uncle Ben, which was what she missed the most. Peter picked up on it too. “This just seems so new, you know?” May sighed. “Though I do like how the hot water’s running perfectly. And, your girlfriend’s so sweet.”

“Shush!” Peter looked at the walls, as if you could hear every word. “She’s not my girlfriend May, we talked about this.”

“Right, right, your crush or whatever—”

“May!”

“My lips are sealed, I promise,” she said, hands on her hips as if you were a topic they talked about everyday. “Why can’t you just ask her out? You’re practically like an old married couple already.”

“That is not true,” he huffed, knowing it was exactly true.

When someone’s been friends with you for as long as Peter has, it wasn't uncommon to fall into habits that outsiders might consider a bit too affectionate. Small gestures like collapsing on top of his lap after a long day or him carrying you around when you claimed to be sick was just the tip of the ‘want-to-bet-how-long-before-they-start-dating?’ iceberg.

“You talk to each other all the time! You can’t go one second without her.”

“We talk a perfectly normal amount.”

May raised an eyebrow. “You’re going over to hers right now, aren’t you?”

He blushed. “We have a project!”

“Pete, it’s 4 in the morning.”

“She wakes up early,” he lied, shrugging. You slept like a baby but he usually woke you up when he couldn’t sleep. Besides, being neighbours with you meant he got to annoy you more.

“Can you at least get some milk? We’ve run out!” May called as he closed the door. He yelled “will do!” as he walked off.

Peter ignored your door completely and went outside the building. He knew you couldn’t hear his knocks if you were fast asleep, so he climbed up the window like he usually did.

But instead he saw you pacing around the room, the dim screen of your laptop being the only source of light. Your silhouette turned to him sharply, yelping at his sudden appearance.

“One of these days I should lock the window,” you joked, earning a pout from him. “Are you okay? Did you go night time patrolling again?”

“No, no, I just wanted to stop by,” he said, spreading his hands out to show there were no web-shooters. This morning, he just wanted to be Peter Parker.

“Why?” The question was light-hearted but it still caught him by surprise.

He realized he usually came here with the excuse of being hurt so he could spend more time with you, but he had just crossed that possibility off the list.

He could very simply say he missed you and divert the topic by asking why you were awake anyway, but the words refused to make themselves known. Without his mask, he knew his emotions would be on display. The hesitation was enough to make you confused.

“Peter?”

“Milk,” he said finally.

“What?”

“We ran out of milk and the stores don’t open at this uh, time.”

“Oh!” You pointed to the half-opened door. “Just don’t make too much noise on the way to the kitchen. For Spiderman, you’re incredibly clumsy.”

“Rude,” he mouthed, before giving you one of his adorable smiles that got you all warm and gooey inside. You nodded towards the door again.

He stood there awkwardly before following your instructions, mentally facepalming at everything he did and didn’t do.

He had to navigate through the darkness, but the hard part was not knowing where the carton of milk was. He did use his spidey senses, but the only thing they were picking on was the weird footsteps outside the apartment. Not helpful.

Wait, what?

He twisted his neck so fast that he almost hurt his muscles, then looked at the shadow under the door. Hardly two seconds later, the person walked away, which just made everything more suspicious. With little to no thought, he wrenched the front door open, poking his head out the hallway.

The empty corridor was how it has always been — empty. Deciding he was imagining things, he was about to go back inside, but then he noticed the only thing out of place.

The flower which now rested on top of the welcome mat.

• • •

“Hey, what’s this-”

“Holy!” you were startled yet again, and jumped up from your seat. Peter winced apologetically.

“I was going to leave, I promise.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you said just as fast, making him raise an eyebrow.

He looked amused, not at your words but the way your body cringed right after you said it, as if you just gave away a 100 year old secret. He picked up on your quickened heartbeat too, making him tilt his head sideways.

“You okay?” he asked, physically biting back a smile.

“I’m- I’m fine. What were you saying?”

“This.”

You hadn’t noticed the flower in his hands before, which he now held out. “Oh, it’s a rose today! You can put it in the vase!”

The vase? Peter followed your gaze to the one in the corner, which he had always seen to be full of different flowers. They never wilted too, so he had assumed they were plastic.

“Yeah, I get a flower each day. It’s like a sweet tradition,” you explained, hands folded.

“Someone leaves you flowers in the morning?” he asked in disbelief. “This early? All 365 days?”

“366 if it’s a leap year!” you corrected, but shrunk under his serious gaze. “Uh, it’s not creepy. He has to leave for work at 5 and he just leaves them by the door.”

“He?”

• • •

Peter should have let it go.

It certainly wasn’t his business who left you flowers, which was a “very lovely gesture” in your words. So lovely that he was sure the person behind it must have some sort of fondness over you, but you discredited all of the claims with an amused laugh.

You sounded so oblivious that he had called himself crazy too, then left the building thinking the person must be some sweet old grandfather who did gardening in his free time.

But Peter Parker had always been a person who overthought, which was why the very next day, he was hidden behind his own door, observing anybody who was walking past. Just as a figure stopped in front of your apartment, he stepped out from his own, ready to figure out who it was once and for all.

“Hello there, are you stealing a flower?” he asked, knowing it was the only conversation starter.

The person turned with a friendly laugh. “No, I’m leaving one.”

The man was a little over Peter’s age, and even his own spider heart did a little dance upon seeing him. Anyone would be a fool to overlook his charming hazel eyes, and Peter would have started stammering if he wasn’t so heads over heels in love with you already. His admiration was suddenly replaced by jealousy.

“You don’t have a grandfather, do you?” he asked sharply.

“Uhm, no? One died just last year and I don’t speak with my mother enough to know who her father is,” the man replied, shrugging. “That was a weirdly specific question though. Do I know you?”

“No, no,” Peter said quickly. “I do know Y/N though. She said someone leaves flowers for her everyday and uh, I’m assuming it’s you?”

“Yup, owes her 2876 more,” he laughed. “We met at a neighbourhood party. We had a bet and I said she had to give me 3500 dollars if she loses.”

“She never does,” Peter interrupted sharply, as if calling him out on his rookie mistake.

“Yeah, I’m glad she didn’t. I get to see her everyday. I’m broke as fuck but flowers are sort of my apology…” he would have went on, but he wasn’t stupid enough to not notice Peter’s clenched jaws. The man quickly connected the dots. “Oh, is she your girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

• • •

The next day, Peter was hanging out in your living room, helping you finish the 2000 piece jigsaw puzzle you somehow thought would be a good idea to start (a month ago), when there was a knock on the apartment door.

You frowned, because hardly anyone knocked on your door and Peter was already here.

“One second,” you muttered, pulling yourself to your feet, “Let me see who it is.”

Peter nodded absently, his mind replaying that embarrassing moment yesterday when he’d accidentally lied to your neighbour and cast himself as your boyfriend. It was not one of his finer moments and he hoped to whatever god might be listening that you’d never find—

“Hey, good to see you, Y/N.”

Peter looked up to where you’d disappeared around the corner at the sound of a familiar voice. Though he couldn’t see you from his spot, he knew exactly what was happening. Your neighbour. At your door. Your handsome neighbour at your door who thought you were in a relationship with him, Peter, who sat awkwardly at the coffee table in your living room. Shit.

While Peter was contemplating ways to flee the country, you smiled at your neighbour. “Hi! What’s up?”

“I got your mail by accident,” he explained, holding out a couple of envelopes toward you.

“Oh, thanks!” You took the offered mail, and turned to go.

“I met your boyfriend,” he said in an off-handed way, “He seems nice.”

Your face froze, confused. “My boyfriend?” Realization dawned on you and you quickly arranged your expression into calm. “Oh, yeah, my boyfriend. Peter. My boyfriend. My boyfriend, Peter.”

Your neighbour gave you a sideways look, a bit confused, and then waved goodbye, but you were too distracted to notice or care. You turned back into your apartment and saw that Peter had moved into the kitchen, messing around with the coffee pot.

“Peter,” you began, but he interrupted you with frenetic energy in his voice.

“Coffee? I heard that coffee helps with jigsaw puzzles and this one’s really tough and…”

“Peter.” You tried again, certain that he’d heard that entire conversation and also certain that he was the reason your neighbour thought you were together.

“Although maybe that was tea,” Peter continued, beginning to rummage through your kitchen cabinets. “Yeah, tea with sugar and oh wow would you look at the time? Spider-Man duties call. Bye. See you later.”

You watched, eyebrows raised and arms crossed across your chest as Peter hurried out of your apartment. Shaking your head, you returned to the jigsaw puzzle, smiling a little. Maybe it was more than a little cute that Peter had called himself your boyfriend.

• • •

The next day, Peter showed up on your fire escape with a nervous look on his face, somewhere between guilty and anticipatory.

“We need to go,” he said, “Why are you still in your pyjamas?”

“Because it’s 9 in the morning on my day off, Pete!” You glared at him from your spot on the bed, but at his insistence, stood up. Peter covered his eyes while you changed, talking all the while.

“I found a cool place for us to go,” he said, rocking on the balls of his feet, “It’s really nice. We can grab breakfast first, or if you’re not hungry we can do that later and—”

“Pete,” you cut him off, “You’re making me dizzy.”

He flushed, his cheeks turning slightly red as he uncovered his eyes just in time to catch you slipping your shirt over your head.

“Well then,” you sighed, looking at him expectantly, “Where are we going Peter Parker?”

• • •

As it turned out, Peter took you to the botanical gardens in Brooklyn, covering your eyes until you were completely immersed in the rose room, fragrant blossoms as far as you could see. Peter grinned madly as he removed his hand from over your eyes, prompting you to open them.

“It’s more flowers than he’ll bring you,” Peter teased and you smacked his chest playfully.

“Oh yeah,” you retorted, “It’s a perfect place for my boyfriend to bring me on a date.”

You stared at each other for a long moment, a beat of silence passing between you. Then, Peter spoke. “Do you mean it?”

“I do if you do,” you replied, smiling.

“Well,” Peter’s grin only grew wider, “Your boyfriend has a whole day planned for you!”

————————————————

a/n: this was a collab with @/agnesamarantheastwood! you can read our other fic here!

general taglist: @sometandomstuff333 @cuddleluv @luvelyxp @violetrainbow412-blog @third-broparcelicito @wayvjinsol @dinfarrik @oliveoilthoughts @tamarkirbataarswife @thankyouforanonymity @imabee-oralizard @alexxavicry @isasv @stilesks @leilani788

marvel taglist: @1999yanira @cinderellacauseshebroke @aleksanderwh0r3 @levylovegood @inu1gf @doodles-bi-tea @tenebrisirae @slutfortasmpeter @wrathspoet

@disartrous @triumph-of-form-over-content @undergroundpersephone @thedelusionreaderbitch @kaitieskidmore1 @shesbiochem4 @slytherheign @harrys-gay-vodka

andrew!peter taglist: @angelcritterz @greekktragedyy @rophelia @littleredjason @geek-and-proud @arabellelancastersstuff @peachyplumsss @strawberry-cake1 @newfoundstateof @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @lokismidnight @marvlspideys @edgycatx @absurdos @iceaesthiexs @blooo0ooop @plutoneu

[masterjedilenawrites]

I just got broken up with now I want others to suffer How would the clones (+bad batch) react to a unexpected breakup?

Aw I'm so sorry to hear that 😢 Hope you're doing okay. Here's some angst to cheer you up lol

Cody, Fox, and Kix are very upset, especially if it came out of nowhere. Why are they just learning that things aren't going well now, when it's too late to fix it? They'll demand some explanations and answers until they can wrap their head around what's happening. Only if they reach a point where they feel like there's closure will they be able to accept the breakup and move on. In the meantime, they'll continue to be confused, in denial, constantly over-analyzing anything they can remember. And they'll keep going back to their ex to "hash things out."

Wolffe, Dogma, and Crosshair are angered, but they bottle it up at first. There may have been an initial fight, or maybe their ex left without a fuss. But either way, they will keep their true feelings shoved deep, deep down. They'll throw themselves into their work, constantly moving from practices to fights to training to mission debriefs to whatever they can find to do, honestly. Anything to not have to think about it. When their emotions do burst out, it's mostly anger at being treated so poorly. At having their vulnerability taken advantage of and their heart broken.

Fives, Jesse, and Wrecker seem to go through the five stages of grief all at once. They're crying, they're begging at their ex's door for a second chance, they're numbly getting through their day, they're going out on a date with someone else.... It's unclear just how long it really takes them to get over it, because they'll seem like they're okay for a bit, like they've moved on, and then all of a sudden they're a blubbering mess at 79's again. Ultimately they do come out of it, more brazen in their attempts at finding true love.

For Rex, Tup, and Hunter, it may not have been unexpected but perhaps just dreaded. They're fairly sensitive to when things seem "off." Even if their ex had been a good actor, they still would've known deep down something wasn't right. They would've tried to have conversations or do whatever else they could to keep the relationship together, so when it ends in separation anyway, it really depresses them. They're withdrawn and forlorn, not finding joy in the things they used to for quite some time. Their recovery period is lengthy despite having seen it coming.

Hardcase, Tech, and Echo are mature, for the most part. Hopefully there was a good reason to end things, or one they understand even if they wished they could've had a chance to work through it. But regardless, they can still take the bad news in stride and allow their ex to leave if that's what they really want. It's only the little things that make them sad from time to time, little slips of the tongue, forgetting when they wake they'll be in an empty bed, seeing something that reminds them of their ex, etc.

Clone Tag List: @damerondala, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @dangerousstrawberrypie, @pandora-the-halfling, @misogirl828, @darkangel4121, @sobstea, @rintheemolion, @dionysuskid21, @jesseeka, @hanbedumbaf, @fallingforthem, @harleyevanstan, @imabeautifulbutterfly, @justanothersadperson93, @thatmultifandomdumbass, @sarahtanmarvel, @itsagrimm, @call-me-a-fool, @lackofhonor, @error6gendernotfound, @theclonesdeservebetter, @hannahhearttcw, @salaminus, @Techie-bear

(Join my tag list here)

[purmpkle-heart]

Dumb, dumb oni

Characters: Arataki Itto, brief mention of Bennett

crying, (reader)punching(Itto(for making them wait for so long jfc)), giggles and kisses

also reader is kinda the traveller? it's complicated so we'll settle with the fact that Lumine and Aether don't exist 💔 or reader could be their sibling? technically this wouldn't change much since reader (aka you) did play the game and helped Teyvat okay I'll stop overcomplicating this already complicated ficlet--

A/n: I'M EMOTIONAL HE CAME HOME WHY IS HE SO LATE I HATE HIM SO MUCH,,, I was hoping he'd be in my gentle embrace the day his banner appeared BUT N O he decided to take his time smh the AUDACITY!! ....I don't really like the first half of this fic but it gets better hopefully

｡.｡:∞♡*💜 More of my writing

It's been days since you began wishing, praying to Celestia to bring one oni to you. Doesn't seem like a long amount of time, some waited months or even years to see their golden star strike them with their beloved.

But these days felt like centuries to you as you travelled, explored and completed quests given by the adventure guild.

You'd think Catherine would stop you from taking every task that was possible for you to complete, but she only smiled and wished you happy adventuring every time you left with another batch of assignments. Maybe you weren't the only desperate person she encountered.

You travelled back and forth through Inazuma, even trying to get to Liyue's adventure guild by asking Beidou to take you there and be as helpful on the ship as you could. It didn't work out for you, though, because her ship never arrived to Rito for the past several days.

You were desperate.

Until one day, it happened. As you were throwing stuff around, trying to find the list of quests from the adventure guild, you found two wishes, jingling under your coat. It got torn as you were running away from hilichurls the other day, so you threw it on the slowly growing pile of things that needed fixing.

You grabbed these shiny offerings to Celestia. How could you forget you had them?? You ran out of your little cabin; it was quite late into the night, moon reflecting bright light and stars littering the sky.

There was one particular spot where you placed your offerings and let them disintegrate in the air, getting weapons or Stars from constellations for people with Visions. You didn't need these bottles of luck, so you collected them and then gave them away to their respective owners.

Sometimes, though, Celestia would decide to joke around and gift you with the Vision-wielders themselves, usually just to introduce or reintroduce you with them. This happened much more often than you'd like to. You remember how Bennett appeared in front of you, immediately jumping out of surprise and tripping over your bag. Although he was genuinely grateful for that, because he got lost on the Dragonspire and was about to freeze to death, it was rather hard to explain how he got sent here. Not as hard as trying to sneak around Tenryou people to get Bennett to Alcor so he could get back to Mondstadt.

You arrived to your usual place, laying down your trusty bag and carefully sitting on your knees on the soft grass. You took out the first wish and raised it above your head, closing your eyes. The wish dissolved in the air, gifting you with a bow. It was nice, but not what-- who you wanted.

You breathed out slowly, trying not to lose your cool. At this point you were hesitant whether to use your last wish or save it for... Somebody else?

No. No-no-no, not after the amount of work you've put into this.

You took out your notebook and started writing. "73. Recurve Bow..." It was nice to know when and what you got in exchange for your hard work.

Inhale, hold, exhale. What would you even say to him once you meet him again? You held the wish above your head, as usual. Golden shining lit up the grass around you and you moved away, looking at the forming human figure. Light dissapeared as quickly as it appeared, leaving you in the shadow of a tall oni with red horns.

— This is not the prison... — Itto looked around and found you, sitting on the grass, — Y/n! — he grabbed you with his strong arms and hugged you tightly, — I missed you! How did you do this? — he let you go and placed you on the grass.

— I-Itto, you... You! How dare you! — tears started running down your cheeks and you punched him weakly, burying your face in his chest, — I-- I've been waiting for you for so *hic* so long and-- that's all you have to say?! — you hit him once more as he wrapped his hands around your shaking body, — I hate you, I hate you, I hate you...

— I missed you too, y/n, I missed you too... — oni pet your head and lift you up on his arms, making you sit in his embrace, — I'm with you now, see? — He laughed as he received another weak punch from you, — I don't remember you being that weak, what happened to you while I was gone? — you straightened up in his arms and grabbed his horns, — Ow-- ow-ow-ow-ow-ow I take that back, I take that back!

— That's what you get for being silly! — you chuckled and wiped some tears away, — Silly oni. My silly dummy dum-dum.

— And you're my silly human, — Itto's face lit up at your chuckles and he leaned forward to peck as many little kisses as he could just to make you laugh again. He loved your smile and your desperate attempts to hide your face from his affection. He shifted your body so you were sitting just on his left arm and grabbed your hands with his right one, pushing them aside and pressing a long, final kiss on your lips, — Silly human.

— Dum-dum oni.

[wh6res]

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic. 

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane." 

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears. 

"bitch," you mutter under your breath. 

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again. 

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?" 

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway. 

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?" 

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him. 

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath. 

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement. 

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year. 

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her. 

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" 

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living. 

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing." 

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done. 

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way. 

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement. 

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears. 

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend. 

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word. 

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel. 

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode. 

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information. 

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics. 

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve. 

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too. 

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today  —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?" 

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind. 

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head. 

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest. 

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!" 

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys. 

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history." 

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said. 

"do you really want to know why?" 

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart. 

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss. 

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone. 

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment. 

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day. 

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor. 

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down. 

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud. 

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand. 

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't… 

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper. 

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused. 

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going. 

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back. 

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video. 

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers. 

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples. 

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration. 

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin. 

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day. 

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder. 

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp. 

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time. 

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside. 

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home. 

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off. 

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung. 

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him. 

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with. 

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it...  but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you. 

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob. 

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face. 

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

[wolffe-simp]

Talk Some Sense To Me (Part 1)

The Bad Batch are left to babysit an outsider when the Jedi agree that Clone Force 99 need to have an eye kept on them at all times, but something isn't quite right with them and they catch the eye of a certain sniper.

Word Count: 2364

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, Crosshair is an ass like always, teachable lessons for the boys.

I am hoping to turn this into a small series along with "Heart Of a Wolf" which will be getting a part 2 soon.

There were those that followed the order of the universe to ensure the balance of life, then there was clone force 99, a team of defected clones who spit on the orders given to them so that they could follow their own style. It had always been them, brothers, until the end of the line. That was how they liked it, they lived in their own little world among the war, being who they wanted to be in this world without a care. That was until the Jedi council made the ultimate decision to assign them to a general that would possibly put the clones in their place and stop them from causing as much havoc as they usually did. Hunter had to be the one to break the news to his brothers, expecting the angered voices of most of them, they had never had some outsider keeping them in check like misbehaving children. Echo was the only one that had been okay with the concept, not that he didn't understand why his brothers were upset, but because he had been a reg before all this and was use to serving under a Jedi general. "Just what we need, some Kriffing idiot who is probably so far up on their high horse that they couldn't care less about what happens to us." Crosshair fumed, angrily swirling his toothpick around his mouth. "For once, I agree, its likely we have been put under the command of a very irrational diplomat." Tech called out from under the Havoc cockpit, fixing a few bits of damage that had been made on their last mission. "I think we shouldn't jump to conclusions before we meet them." Echo argued, trying to talk some sense into his team. "Echo is right, we cannot judge them before we meet the, we aren't like the regs." Hunter added his input. "Yeah, Echo has a point." Wrecker mumbled, even though he himself had been against the idea only moments ago. Crosshair ripped his toothpick from his mouth and tossed it away with a flick of his fingers before crossing his arms over his chest and looking away, grumbling under his breath. "You know, not everyone was on board with this decision." A new voice suddenly piped up from behind Hunter, causing them all to turn towards the source. Standing there was who they suspected to be their new general, but the female could have easily been mistaken as a worker or a possibly senator. She definitely didn't look like she belonged on a military base, a girl like this belonged to more than all this, she seemed far too pure and far to young to have the position she had among the ranks. "I was quite against it, not because I don't like you or anything, I mean I don't personally know you but I understand that you value the freedom you had and that you don't want that taken from you and.....I'm just gonna be quiet now." She cut off her rambling as she noticed them staring at her, a mix of angry, deadpanned or confused faces just watching her. "Well....its nice to meet you General, I'm Hunter and these are my brothers, Echo, Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker." The Sargent spoke, pointing to each of his teammates in turn so that the General would be able to tell them apart. "Nice to meet you all, you can just call me (Y/N)." The female couldn't meet their eyes, which was unusual behaviour for someone of her status, normally a general was confident and sure, looking them in the eyes and commanding respect. Yet here she was, acting as if she was a soldier being scolded by her commanding officer. "We are sorry you had to hear all that, if you'd like, I can show you to your bunk." Echo was quick to offer, sensing a tension building in the air, the clone could already see Crosshairs lips twitching with the desperate need to make a rather vile comment towards the general. "Don't worry, I've had worse...." She replied, her lips falling into a small frown. Echo offered her a comforting smile and led her inside the Maurader, showing her to the back of the ship where a makeshift bed had been made. It wasn't much as the ship hardly accommodated the clones, yet they had somehow made it work by thinking outside of the box, some even had to share rooms to ensure their was enough space on the ship for the

important things. (Y/N) didn't mind how bare and small it was though, the fact they had the faintest decency to build a place for her to stay was enough, even if the thought was mingled with the question of how easily they could get rid of her. She put her bag down in on of the corners. humming as she scanned the room, a simple room for a simple person. "Bit of paint and it will look like a palace." She joked, earning a small chuckle from Echo. "I am glad you like it." He said before nodding his head in farewell and leaving to go and help Tech on those repairs. Once alone, (Y/N) sighed heavily and placed her head in a hand while the other wrapped around her waist. She was far from ready for this, she had barely recovered from her previous mission, which had been an absolute failure and resulted in the death of her entire squad along with her capture. What were the Jedi council thinking? She had barely come to terms with everything and now they were throwing her back into the deep end and hoping she could move on like nothing has every happened. Her dreams were haunted by the loss of the clones she had come to call friends and here she was, expected to just blindly lead another clone squad, a squad who didn't even want her. For hours, she stayed in her room, lost in her own torturous thoughts. Even when Tech had fixed the ship, even when they had all come back onboard to do their chores, she had not made another appearance. At some point, Hunter had passed by her room, skidding to a stop when he head a small, pained sob. Out of curiosity, he wanted to check in and make sure she was okay. But then again, she probably didn't want to be comforted by someone she hardly knew. He had no idea why she was upset, a part of him suspected it was because of what had been said earlier. He sighed and joined his team in the main living area, keeping this to himself, he didn't want Crosshair using this as fuel to get rid of the general. After a while, he pulled Tech to the side, speaking in hushed voices. "Hey Tech, can you do me a favour?" "Depends." "I need you to find everything you can on the General." Tech have Hunter a confused look, mulling it over in his head before nodding. It seemed quite logical to look into their General, after all, they needed to know if she could be trusted. (Y/N) didn't emerge until it was time for dinner, she had washed her face of evidence, not wanting the clones to see her weakness. She couldn't be weak in front of them, especially because of how much they hated her, it would just give them a reason to dislike her even more. No clone squad wanted to be led by a general who cried at the most trivial things, even if those things weren't so trivial to her. She leaned against the doorway to the main living area, catching the eyes of Hunter and Echo, offering them each a smile that barely touched her eyes. They seemed to be the only ones who tolerated her and that was enough for her right now. "Finally, the princess has graced us with her presence." Crosshair sneered from his spot on the bench, regarding her with disgust. "Guess that makes you a peasant." She retorted with a small roll of her eyes. "Means you won't be able to eat with us higher ups." Her comment made the others chuckle a little, watching as Crosshair tightened his jaw in anger. But (Y/N) just ignored him, sensing another comment lingering on the lip of his tongue. "Tomorrow, we have been requested to make our way to a small backwater planet to scout some separatist activity." She spoke calmly, looking at the rest of the squad. "Right now, I want you to all to eat and rest up, I was just on my way to the mess hall if you'd all like to join me." "Ah Yeah! I'm starving!" Wrecker cheered, his face lighting up at the mention of food. "I think we all are." Hunter scoffed, smiling affectionately at his brothers childishness. "I think a team dinner would be a good idea, lead the way General." (Y/N) nodded and made her way off the ship, followed by her team, including a moody Crosshair. As they made their way to the mess hall, (Y/N)

made small talk with Wrecker and Echo, listening to a few stories they had to share about their previous missions. At one point, Wrecker tried to tell her about how Crosshair and Hunter had been tricked by some Twi'leks that worked for the Hutts but was quickly shushed by the sniper who was clearly embarrassed by the story. Even when they had got their food and sat on one of the far table in the corner, Wrecker was still more than happy to boast about his brothers, even when he was stuffing his mouth with food. (Y/N) laughed and shook her head, slowly picking at her own food, barely able to eat anything. Then came a question that had her whole body tensing, her mind reeling with memories of a time she wished she could go back and change. "So General, what about you? What kind of adventures have you had?" Tech had asked, his question innocent and simple, he simply wanted to get to know the person he was going to work with. "Shopping trips and pedicures don't count as adventures, Tech." Crosshair scoffed, focused mostly on his food. (Y/N) stared down at her tray of food, feeling her heart clench painfully in her chest. Her fingers tingled, remembering when her captain had held her hand as the light faded from his eyes, telling her it wasn't her fault. The night before, he had held her hand like that, only this time it as because he was afraid to wake up back on Kamino as if his life held no meaning whatsoever. Her squad had usually slept in positions where at least one part of their body touched hers, they were so close that they had always been afraid of waking up and losing the others. It was still hard to think that she had lost them all in the same day, unable to save them from enemy hands, she was suppose to protect them. She didn't realise she was struggling to breath until she felt a hand rest on her shoulder, making her jump back to reality, trying to calm her racing heart. She turned her head to look at the person, only to come face to face with a familiar clone, the one who had been there for her even in her darkest times. "Cody...." She breathed in relief, reaching up a hand to rest it over his. "General." He greeted with a smile, taking his hand away as he sat next to her with his own tray of food, silently offering her a supporting force so she didn't become overwhelmed by her own thoughts. "To answer your question Tech, the General has had many adventures. You should have seen the time she kicked a droid head across the battlefield and knocked the tactical off of its tank. I've never seen General Kenobi laugh so much at such a daft thing but (Y/N) sure has quite a temper for someone so small." Cody laughed, recalling a moment he had spent with (Y/N) during her time in the GAR, they had many memories together, both good and bad. Right now, he knew she needed to be reminded of the good times. Cody was more than happy to chat with Clone force 99, even happier to take their attention off of (Y/N) for now. Sadly, they was no mistaking that they noticed how she acted when Tech asked about her adventures in the field, there seemed to be something about their General that she was keeping from them. Usually, they wouldn't pry into such matters but if it endangered their brothers then they had to find out what she was keeping from them. (Y/N) was staring at her tray, hardly listening to Cody when something smooth and cool landed on one of her hands. She slowly lifted her head, seeing the smiling face of Echo looking at her, his metal hand covering hers. She stared at it for a moment, slowly turning her hand over so it was in her palm, slender fingers wrapping around it. She knew she wasn't alone in the darkness that clouded her mind and somehow, she knew that Echo understood her. He had known the pain he could see in her eyes and he hoped that he and his brothers could help bring back whatever spark she had once had, exactly like the Bad Batch had done for him.

This is just a set up to the story, I hope you like it. Been a bit too busy for writing but I am slowly getting back into it. I am also, trying and failing at drawing a concept for Plo Koon's daughter for "Heart of a Wolf"

[aneenasevla]

Spookengan 3 - The Cookie and the Cook

Previous / MasterPost

Made in Collab with @useless-bi-otch

Okubo knew Tomori long enough to know that when presented with a culinary challenge, she’d get carried away. And he also knew that when she got carried away, she had a tendency to overload herself until she get a little disoriented.

"Okay, first of all I have to dissolve the cornstarch… oh no, I forgot to leave the eggs at room temperature! No, that's fine, I can still work it out somehow, but… oh, where did I put the cream of tartar? It was there next to the food coloring and- Oh no, the batch is gonna burn!" And then she'd run right to the oven, her apron a mess, strands of hair escaping from the bun in which she'd tied it.

He asses the situation and looks at the state of the kitchen: dirty pots in the sink, a little flour sprinkled on the counter, as well as raw ingredients like sugar, essences, food coloring, all placed on one side of the table. On the other sid was an amalgamation of cutters, a rolling pin and a bunch of utensils he couldn't even name scattered all over the room. And, of course, the wonderful smell of assorted sweet things in the air.

Tomori, just like Kanami, was a full-fledged cook. He loved everything she baked, especially her cookies. But when she got into that half-manic state, he always got a little scared, almost as much as he was when it was time to catch up on his vaccines.

"Aah… oooh, they didn't burn, thank goodness..." She sighs in relief as she puts the baking sheet on the marble counter "That's a close call. C'mon, girl, take a deep breath…" She closes her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly, and then clapping her hands together, causing a loud sound that made him jump a little "Okay, back to work now! Do you think that's enough cookies, Naoh?"

"I think so…" he looks at the coffee table, where several boxes were already packed and piled "That's enough to feed five guys my size for a week… or an Ohma and a half, I guess, if he's not in the mood for sweet stuff..."

"Yeah, I went overboard, but when it comes to parties, it's better to have too much food than too little", she decrees, picking up a bowl and small bottles of gel food coloring; there were so many that they occupied an exclusive drawer in her kitchen cabinet "Now comes the most delicate part of the process: the icing. I've already made so many ghosts, pumpkins, tombstones and skulls... and I don't think they'll complain about a few more black cats, right? I'll say that they are representations of Medeyami and Dorobo, haha… How about something from 'The Nightmare Before Christmas' in these bigger ones…? Ugh, but do these go more with Halloween or Christmas? Damn, there are so many sources of inspiration that I don't even know where to look!

"Hey, hey…", he puts a hand on her shoulder "first things first, let's wait for the cookies to cool down, shall we? You almost burned your hands with the previous two batches. Seriously, Tomori, you've been in this frenzy all morning..."

"Well, obviously! These cookies are for a party Kana hasn't thrown in years! Now that she's back at getting excited for her birthday and for Halloween, I can't miss the opportunity", She points to all the boxes and utensils "I'm also not doing other things like candy and donuts just because she threatened to convince my parents to lock me in a psych ward..."

"And I wouldn't blame her, for God's sake. Seriously, babe, give it a rest" Okubo looks at the mess, scratching his head "And I'm suspecting that we'll need to fix this before an accident happens. Lihito even told me that Akane's stove was destroyed after they had a gas problem..."

"No, I can't take a break! I'm in charge of making these cookies, and without a team to help, I have to work double to meet the deadline! And believe me, I've worked in messier kitchens. I'm still accident free…" She says as she puts the dirty utensils in the sink, trying to carry several things at once. And then almost droped a glass bowl on the floor, if it wasn't for Okubo's reflexes.

"See, that's exactly what I was talking about..." he rolls his eyes "Let's just clean everything first, c'mon…" he looks at her, still holding the bowl, and then looks at the utensil in his arms "You sure I can't help?"

Still embarrassed by her slip-up, she gives him a sideways glance, pouting "I said you can help me clean up the kitchen after I'm done. You don't know much about cooking and baking, you said so yourself..."

He chuckles and hugs her from behind, bending down a little to look at her from above "Alas, Your Shortness, you taught me how to make basic homemade food without burning my kitchen down. Don’t you think you’re giving me too little credit by thinking I'm not good enough to help you with that too? I saw you taking the stepladder to reach the sprinkles in the upper cupboard, ya know...? I felt insulted..."

" 'Your Shortness?!' Why, you big meathead…!” She huffs, squeezing her mouth shut, clearly trying hard not to laugh "Look, I know you like it when I climb or ride you, but there's a time and place for these things, you pervert", She jokes, poking him in the nose with a fingertip "Fine then, how do you intend to help me?"

“I don't know yet, but it involves washing the dishes and telling you to take a shower before tidying up to complete the task. You even have flour in your hair… is that a…?", he takes something out of her hair, sniffing it "... Oh, it’s a half-melted chocolate chip."

"Oh, I've had much worse things stuck in my hair after these hyperfocus bouts of mine. You'd think I'm even more nuts than I look right now", She shrugs "I even spilled food coloring on it once… hey!" She widens her eyes a little "I know how you can help me! Are you up to do some art?"

"Well, maybe..." he gives her a big, dumb smile "I don't consider myself an artist other than a martial artist, but…" he grips the sides of her hips "I can try it later. I've heard my massages are a work of art, after all."

“What…? Ah! Not that kind of art!" She pats his hand, blushing but still laughing. And then adds: "… Okay, maybe later. But right now, I want those yaoi hands of yours helping me with the food coloring. Wanna help me mix them up like we're back at preschool?"

"Wow. Here I am, eager to please, and all you say is that I have gay hands", he jokes, laughing and looking at his own hands, then shaking his head "Eh, I can do that... let's wash these bowls, I think you'll need them, right?" He points to the pile of glass bowns next to the sink "And I heard that, miss. You, saying 'maybe later'..."

"Yea, I'll need'em. A cook's life can be summed in twenty percent cooking, eighty percent washing dishes. And..." She plays with his fingers, her tone getting sultry "Of course you heard me. If you hadn't, or if you didn't take the opportunity right after, I would've asked who you are and what you did to my Naoya" She picks up a cookie from the most recent batch, offering it to him with an adorable pout "Here you go. For helping me loose up and laugh it off when I was about to go crazy…"

He catches the cookie with his mouth, half of it sticking out, inviting her to take a bite. She immediately obliges, giving an adorable little growl, batting her eyelashes. He anwers with a low laugh and pulls his head, breaking the cookie in two pieces "It's delicious as always. Both the cookie and the cook."

She gives him a peck as she chews, giggling. At this rate she’d never want to bake by herself ever again...

Next Chapter Here