#best male vocal range in the business

[lightscamerabitchsmileee]

Just listened to Marianas Trench's new album "Haven" and as usual they knock it out of the park 😊😊 I really feel this is their best since Ever After honestly (not that Astoria & Phantoms aren't amazing albums too but still) the production and instrumentation are top notch once again & Josh still proves he has the best male vocal range in the business lol, the HARMONIES and the writing is impressive 😊😊

Some of my favorites include obviously the singles (A Normal Life, Lightning & Thunder, I'm Not Getting Better and Down To You) but also I love Ancient History, Worlds Collide, Nights Like These and Remember Me By 😊😊 truly one of their best 😊😊

[thedemostop]

Female British Singers: Icons of Music

The captivating vocals of these female British singers have drawn admirers from all around the world. We chronicle the varied skills, outstanding accomplishments, and long-lasting influence of prominent British women artists. Because these well-known crooners had such an emotional impact on their audience, we also go into great detail about their legacy.

Female British Singers

Female British vocalists have been at the forefront of impacting the worldwide music business for a considerable amount of time, thanks to a vocal tradition that spans millennia. Women have accomplished a great deal, from making popular music to starting trends in fashion. Still, the singing divas of today were formerly poor churchgoers. The first institutions to permit women to join together and write hymns were Catholic music schools. Eventually, as time and music progressed, women were permitted to receive vocal instruction. Prior to 2000, women were permitted to give public performances. Talented female vocalists were frequently employed by orchestras and operas. Women began to distinguish themselves from men during the British Empire's liberal ideals boom and gained popularity for their singing.

Since then, a number of British vocalists have become more well-known and talented than males. Here is a list of well-known British vocalists who defied all odds and attained international recognition.

Top Female British singers

Adele

Adele is a prime example of the traditional British singer-songwriter, her powerful voice and poignant lyrics making her stand out in today's music scene. She started singing professionally at an early age. Adele Laurie Blue Adkins was born in Tottenham, London, on May 5, 1988. Artists such as Ella Fitzgerald and Etta James served as inspiration for her. 2008 saw the publication of her debut album, "19," which displayed her exceptional vocal range and compositional skills. But in 2011, she released "21," her sophomore album, which catapulted her to international acclaim. Adele's album, which included singles like "Someone Like You," "Rolling in the Deep," and "Set Fire to the Rain," brought her numerous awards and recognition.

Audiences worldwide have been impacted by Adele's truly heartbreaking songs and powerful voice. The album "25," with hits like "Hello," "When We Were Young," and "Send My Love (To Your New Lover)," helped her maintain her winning streak in 2015.

Adele has received numerous accolades during her career, including various Grammy Awards and Brit Awards. She received the Best Original Song Oscar for "Skyfall." She has cemented her place as one of the most significant and prosperous musicians of her generation with her songs, sincerity, and stage presence, which emote with listeners.

Dua Lipa

British pop singer-songwriter Dua Lipa's distinctive style and captivating live charm have made her a major figure in the mainstream music industry. On August 22, 1995, Lipa was born in London to parents who were originally from Kosovo and Albania. Even as a small child, her affinity for music was evident.

When her self-titled first album "Dua Lipa" was published in 2017, she demonstrated her ability to work across genres. The CD included the tunes "New Rules," "Be The One," and "IDGAF." She raced to the top of the charts and attracted attention from all over the world thanks to her breakthrough single.

Pop, dance, and R&B are expertly blended by Dua Lipa to produce a brand-new, memorable sound that connects with her listeners. Her reputation as a contemporary music star has been further solidified by her captivating performances and assured on-stage demeanor.

"Future Nostalgia," Lipa's second studio album, was released in 2020. It included tracks like "Levitating," "Physical," and "Don't Start Now." Reviewers gave Lipa's album positive reviews following the success of her debut release. Her growth as a musician was demonstrated on this CD, which blended retro sounds with a contemporary feel.

Apart from her artistic achievements, Dua Lipa has been recognized with other accolades, including the Brit, Grammy, and MTV Europe Music Awards.

Ellie Goulding

British singer-songwriter Ellie Goulding has won over her fans' hearts with her amazing vocals and varied musical taste. Goulding, who was born on December 30, 1986, in Hereford, England, developed a love for music early in life and began writing songs. Her debut album "Lights" from 2010 showcased her unique blend of techno and indie-pop music. Along with singles like "Starry Eyed" and "Guns and Horses," the album's first track, "Lights," became a massive smash and solidified her place in the music industry.

Throughout her career, she has been recognized with numerous awards, including nominations for the MTV Europe Music Awards, the BRIT Awards, and the Grammy Awards for the popular song "Love Me Like You Do," which was used in the film "Fifty Shades of Grey." Goulding's ability to bring together a diverse range of fans worldwide through captivating melodies and poignant lyrics has enhanced her reputation as a talented and versatile artist.

Leona Lewis

The music business has been greatly impacted by the incredible vocal range and poignant live performances of British singer-songwriter Leona Lewis. Lewis, who was born in London on April 3, 1985, showed off her incredible vocal prowess at an early age by taking part in talent showcases and musical theater plays. Her biggest achievement came in 2006 when she emerged victorious from the third season of "The X Factor UK." Because of her powerful voice and moving performances of songs like "A Moment Like This" and "Bleeding Love," which became hits all over the world, Lewis was a chart-topping singer at the time.

A number of songs from Leona Lewis's 2007 debut album "Spirit," including "Bleeding Love," "Better in Time," and "Run," emphasized her rich and deep vocal range. Because of the album's success, she received favorable reviews and was shortlisted for multiple awards, including the BRIT and Grammy.

Lewis continued releasing CDs that showcased her skill and variety as a vocalist. Some of her latter albums' tracks, including "Echo" (2009), which features poignant renditions of "Happy," "Trouble," and "Fire Under My Feet," highlight her songwriter's flexibility.

Kate Bush

Kate Bush is a prominent and well-known British singer-songwriter who is well-known for her unusually challenging songs, unique sound, and innovative approach. Born on July 30, 1958, in Bexleyheath, Kent, England, Bush demonstrated musical ability and originality at an early age.

She made her musical debut in the late 1970s with her breakthrough single, "Wuthering Heights," which topped the charts in numerous nations. Her delicate voice, lovely lyrics, and engaging theatrical performances helped her establish herself as a distinctive and creative artist.

Apart from the widely recognized song "Wuthering Heights," other notable tracks from Bush's debut album "The Kick Inside" from 1978 included "The Man with the Child in His Eyes."

Her three albums, "Hounds of Love" (1985), "Never for Ever" (1980), and "Lionheart" (1978), showcased her versatility as a musician and her skill at presenting a tale. With hits like "Cloudbusting" and "Running Up That Hill" from "Hounds of Love," Bush solidified his place in history as a pioneer in the music industry.

Throughout her career, Bush received numerous accolades and awards, such as the Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE) for her contributions to music, the Brit Awards, and the Ivor Novello Awards.

Conclusion

British female vocalists have demonstrated skill, creativity, and adaptability across a wide range of genres, which has helped the music industry tremendously. These musicians, from Kate Bush's avant-garde pop to Adele's lyrical tones, have left a lasting impression on the music business. British female vocalists have always amazed and enthralled audiences all over the world with their astounding performances, from Dusty Springfield's timeless anthems to Amy Winehouse's heartbreaking shows to Dua Lipa's current popular songs that are topping the charts.

[prismatica-the-strange]

Mika was a theater kid

In fact! She was Hawkins' theater star. She always got a lead in every play/musical she was cast in due to her vocal and acting range.

Because it kept her busy after school, on non Hellfire days, Eddie would help out on sets just to hang out with her.

Ms. Ellens loved him! He made all the best props, and his time spent painting minis let him paint the best details on backdrops.

And he would always help people run lines. Everytime he did it within earshot of Ellens, she would beg him to audition. But he would always decline, insisting that he wasn't made for the stage.

His favorite way to help was running lines with Mika. They'd go to her house, her mom would bring them snacks, and they'd run the whole play and goof around.

Then it was junior year, about 5 months after they got together, that the Male lead and understudy for their spring musical got the worst case of food poisoning on opening night.

(More story under the cut)

Everyone was panicking. They had no one to play The Beast, and you can't put on Beauty and the Beast without that very important role.

Then Eddie showed up and a lightbulb lit up above Mika's head. She grabbed his hand and dragged him to hair and make up.

He was so confused as everyone crowded around him, running brushes along his cheeks and nose. He didn't really catch on until Ellens called Mika a genius.

"What?!" He jerked his head, but was quickly stilled by the many hands smearing makeup on him, "I can't go out there!"

"Eddie, you're the only person that knows all the lines and can do the ballroom scene," Mika kneels beside him, pouting.

It took a little convincing, but then he was out on stage. (I know the animated film came out in the 90s but that's what this is based off)

Their chemistry played perfectly on the stage and there were only three moments things didn't go to plan.

The first was right before Belle was to run away and get attacked in the woods.

Mika had know Eddie for literally her entire life. But she had never, and I mean never seen him truly angry before, especially not at her. Worked up, sure, and like everyone else, they'd had fights. But he must've dug deep to really roar like that.

It genuinely startled her, to the verge of tears. And she froze for much longer than she was supposed to, before shaking it off and going on.

During intermission, he made sure to make sure she was okay. He had obviously noticed because she'd never frozen like that.

The second time was during the ballroom scene. He'd helped her practice the dance before, but this was different. They were in costume and there was lighting and it felt like they were the only two to ever exist. And the got carried away, forgetting about the play and Ellens was whisper shouting into her mic for the booth to fade out the lights because they were gonna kiss too early.

It worked out though. The music and lights fading out for intermission as they leaned in made for a beautiful show.

The third time was at the end. The beast had just transformed back into a human and he was supposed to pull Belle in for a quick, sweet kiss. But Eddie, of course, almost started making out with her on stage.

Afterwards everyone was so encouraging and had nothing but praise for them. He hadn't expected the crowd to cheer so hard for him when he bowed.

He kinda wished his uncle had been there to see that night, and even on short notice, Wayne was able to go go the next night's performance.

At the end of the year, those who participate in the spring show vote on the next winter's, and with some persuasion from Mika and reduced prices for Eddie, the vote was almost unanimous for Little Woman.

Over the Summer, in an attempt to ensure a role as Jo March, she got her hair buzzed and turned into a wig. While she waited for it she didn't leave the house and she and Eddie spent most days in her room or in her game room.

She wore the wig for the first semester of school, and it was hard for Eddie to keep it secret.

When Auditions came up, well let's just say when she said "I only sold what was mine" and pulled it off, the auditorium went silent. Her scene partners were stunned.

Then Eddie started clapping from a few rows back, he wasn't auditioning, but he wanted to see the reveal. A couple people groaned because any hopes they had to get the role were just dashed.

Ellens pestered and insisted Eddie try for a role at the end and he obliged so she would leave him alone.

Everyone expected him to try for Laurie so he and Mika could play off each other like they had before, but then he started rambling some of Friedrick Bhaer's lines in a beautiful mix of English and German that there was no question he would be cast.

And Mika was just gawking at him because she had no idea he knew German.

For months, Mika's hair and Eddie's second language were the drama club's closest guarded secrets.

The play went amazingly.

In fact it was one of the reasons Mika was offered scholarships to, not only Northwestern, but Juilliard as well. Both of which she turned down when she found out Eddie wasn't graduating.

She actually never told him about them because she knows he would've insisted she go, even if it meant they broke up. She refused to let that happen because she loved him so much, to the point where just the thought of leaving him like that made her physically sick.

She ended up going to the local community college for a few years.

▪︎¤▪︎¤▪︎¤▪︎

Eddie Munson taglist: @ofherscarlettwitchways

[mxtcha-tea]

useless love letter with oikawa & kuroo?

Useless Love Letter.2

✎desc; when he receives a love letter from someone else and you’re unphased by it.

✎pairing[s]; kuroo x gn!reader (let me know if i miss any)

✎genre; angst, unrequited love (not proofread)

✎language[s]; english

✎chef note; I ran out of ideas so I can't do Oikawa's part (my motivation istg smh)

It’s always been you, Kuroo and Yaku. You three all became friends a lot more quicker than anyone could’ve expected. And the friendship started the same way, from Kuroo annoying you two and becoming enemies when you first met.

Kuroo’s the one who bands you all together into this lump of mess and y’know, he’s glad that he did. High school couldn’t be even more exciting with both of you by his side.

But the more time passed, the more his feelings for you took a slight turn. It was the end of summer when Kuroo started realizing it. You came to his house because you forgot to do the homeworks they’ve given before summer starts.

Sure, it was a pain in the ass having to deal with your complaints and groan echoing every corner of his room. He thought about kicking your out right that instant but something in him told himself to just let you stay there longer.

Watching you from the corner of his eyes, freezing like a statue while squinting your eyes at your exercise book, a pen between your upper lips and nose. It’s not the prettiest image, he had to admit, but you look the most beautiful when you’re doing the most random poses.

Then, his mind drifted to every key memory of you, the way his cheeks would turn into a rosy color when your skin met or when his mind malfunctioned when you held eye contact with him. You drive him insane and Kuroo has no idea if it’s a good thing or not.

But it sure gave him butterflies and made him feel at home. So, maybe it is a good thing. He’ll always have sleepless nights where he can’t think of anything else other than you. He hates it when it happens because it made him feel like a creep.

Kuroo wondered if you felt the same. When he blushes, would you react the same? When he stuttered out, would you do the same? He wasn’t entirely sure, so he tried his best to be as close to you than he’ll ever be.

Even if it may take forever to let those 3 words out from his vocal chords, it’ll be worth it, he knows it.

The bell rang, signalling end of the 3rd period. Yaku sighed, cracking his knuckles before walking towards your desk. Kuroo can be seen sitting in front of you, probably annoying you yet again, “Hey, [y/n], have you written any notes during class?”

Yaku asked, reaching for the nearest chair and sitting on it, leaning his arms onto your desk, “A little,” “Only a little? I honestly thought that you’re not going to write anything,” You tch’ed, holding out your middle finger at Kuroo while the bedhead just snickered,

“It’s none of your business, Mount Fuji hair,” But at that, Kuroo snapped. Yaku tried to hold in his laughs and hitting the desk a little, “Oi, stop coming up with new nicknames for me,” “No, I think that nickname suits you the most, Mount Fuji hair, Mount Fuji hair,”

Now it’s your turn to snicker at him while mockingly pointing at his hair. Yaku finally releases his laugh while holding you for support. For some reasons, that action pissed him a lot more.

Who did he think he is to just touch you like that? But he managed to calm himself as he points at you, trying to figure out a better remark to counter your insult,

“How ironic hearing it from-” “UM, SORRY,” He got cut off as he looked to his left, finding a girl, probably from a different class standing next to him with a nervous face.

Both you and Yaku stopped laughing and also took your attention on the girl. With shaky hands, she holds out a letter to Kuroo. All three of you went wide eyes at that as the same exact words run across your minds,

‘A CONFESSION LETTER?!’

“Please accept this!” He slowly takes the letter from the girl’s hand, nodding, “Oh, um, okay,” And with that, the girl ran out from the classroom, face visibly red from being nervous and probably embarrassment.

It was silence before all of you looks at the letter in Kuroo’s hand, you look up at his face, who’s also looking at you and the same thing with Yaku,

“HAH! Look at who’s Mr. Popular right now,” Kuroo stated, pointing at you with a smirk plastered on his face, “Ugh, you’re so annoying, and so what? It’s only a letter and not tons of them,”

And after that very statement of yours, you hold Yaku’s face in between your hand like a sandwich with a small smile on your face, “But honestly, Yaku can get more love letters than you, I mean look at him, isn’t he handsome?”

Yaku blushed at that, slowly gripping your wrist and pushing your hands away from his face, “Hey, don’t do that, it hurts,” “Oops, sorry Mr. Handsome,” “Seriously, what’s with you and giving random nicknames?” “But that’s not random? I genuinely think you’re handsome, Mori,”

His blush deepened as he lightly hit your head, “J-just shut up,” “Ow! Fine fine, yeesh,”

Kuroo just stays quiet, staring at you two acting...oddly lovely with each other from his seat. He wanted to punch Yaku so bad but he can’t, he knows he can’t. But it doesn’t matter, cause you like him right? He’s sure of that, it’s just like a frenemies to lover trope.

He coughed, taking back both of your attention, “But I don't really see him receiving any, didn’t he? Then, I guess I’ll just keep being Mr. Popular, or even Mr. Handsome,” Yaku cringed while you snorted,

“You? Who in the world would even think that? You’re ugly, ugly baby, maybe that girl’s delusional or something,” “As if you’re anywhere pretty, and who’s even getting a love letter right now? I bet you’re jealous that you got none,”

You sighed, resting your head onto the palm of your hand, “Sadly, I guess no one noticed my beauty, “ Kuroo chuckled, “But serious talk here,”

That caught both Kuroo and Yaku attention as you continue, eyes looking down on your finger hitting the desk, “I don’t really mind getting a love letter from someone, whether it’s a prank or whatever, I think it’s neat,”

You look up at both of them, a small smile decorating your face, “ It makes me feel special,”

Kuroo could feel his heart beating faster, cheeks burning up at nothing but those simple words. It’s funny how the love letter in his hand doesn’t give him any reactions at all, but your mere words does,

“Stop saying it in that tone, you’re making me feel bad,” “Pfft, I don’t need your pity,” “Oh really~? Maybe I’ll write a letter for you to make you feel better then,” “Ugh, no thanks, Mount Fuji hair,” “Yeah, I- OI! SERIOUSLY, STOP WITH THE NICKNAME,”

You and Kuroo kept on arguing with each other, spitting profanities and so on. Yaku can just sigh, shaking his head and watching you two with a small smile.

“I’m going home now!”

Grabbing his bag, Yaku waved his hand as he walked towards the gym door, “Okay, stay safe!” Kai said, waving back at him, Kuroo joined his side, “I hope you don’t get chased again by those dogs,” “SHUT UP MOUNT FUJI HAIR!”

And with one last glare at the ravenette, Yaku stormed out from the gym after accidentally being reminded by that horrible and embarrassing memory,

“Mount Fuji hair?” Kai looked at Kuroo with a confused look, “Ah, It’s a new nickname [y/n] gave me, it’s stupid to be honestly,”

Kuroo explained, scratching the back of his head as he followed Kai to grab a broom and clean the gym.

Behind them are the 2nd years helping to clean the gym. Kenma sitting on the floor while rejecting Yamamoto’s request to put down the net with him and Fukunaga’s just watching them from a distance, sweeping the floor while snickering to himself,

“Kuroo, I hope you’re planning on confessing to [y/n], because you’re delaying a lot of time,” Kuroo pursed his lips, sweeping the floor a few meters away from Kai, “Nah, I think after a few more days then I can confess to them,”

And from that, Kai stopped sweeping as it caught Kuroo’s attention. Kuroo looks at him, his eyes show nothing but urgency. And somehow pity,

“I’m serious right now, Kuroo. You’ve what? Said that 3 times already and you still haven’t done anything. And…”

He stopped, sighing quietly before continuing, “...If you don’t take actions right this instant, [y/n]’s gonna be sweeped away by someone else,” Kuroo’s eyes went wide at that, “You...you don’t mean,”

“[y/n]’s going to be confessed by someone else today, at this time. I’ve heard it from a friend of mine,”

The broom in his hand falls down, echoing through the now empty gym and catching the attention of the 2nd years, looking at Kuroo with confusion. The male isn’t doing any better, he’s visibly shaking but he can’t move or do anything.

But then, his instincts started kicking in as his legs made the first move. He slammed open the gym door and started running towards the place he would think you would be at. Kai watching him with pity lacing his expression, taking the broom from the ground,

“I’m so sorry, Kuroo,”

‘I’m going to confess to [y/n] today and give them a letter because you know that I can’t tell everything inside my mind when they’re in front of me, they’re too pretty and it makes me nervous y’know. Oh, and also, keep this a secret from Kuroo, okay?’

His mind is going everywhere, his thighs burning from the amount of running he did from the gym all the way to the hallway of the first class. Kuroo has no idea where he’s heading to whatsoever but at the same time, he knows where it is.

The world around him started spinning as a pain shot to his head but he paid it no mind as he huffed, beads of sweat falling from his face and covering his cheeks.

And suddenly he stopped.

Kuroo watches from a distance, chest rising up and down. He can’t feel anything right now, he can’t hear anything. But the pain is still visibly there when he watches Yaku handing you a letter.

Your eyes went wide as you bowed to Yaku and took the letter from him. He can’t hear what they’re talking about, but whatever it’s about really makes you happy huh? And before he could process anything after that, you two kissed.

It was just a few seconds but it felt like an eternity to Kuroo. The way your lips touch Yaku’s, and not his. God, he dreamed of feeling it against him but now, he doesn't even have the chance to taste it.

Now, he’s thinking back to what Kai had said. Why did he wait to confess to you? The answer is quite simple,

Because he’s afraid. He’s afraid of rejection, he’s afraid that it’ll ruin the relationship you have with him now, he’s afraid of showing his vulnerability to you. It’s a simple task but a hard execution, and now Kuroo can’t do it anymore. Not now, not then.

Yes, he regretted not doing it earlier but it’s even more painful that he has to watch both of his friends fall in love with each other without him noticing. Actually, no, he did notice it.

Kuroo did notice how Yaku look at you, it’s also the way Kuroo looks at you too. But he didn't mind it because he can’t face the reality. That you like Yaku better than him.

So, he had to live in a fantasy world where you fall in love with him instead. How funny. A part of him wanted to stop it, just stop the painful visual that he had to watch, maybe that’ll be an interesting twist to the story.

But he didn’t, because he’s still scared.

And before Kuroo even knew it, you two are gone now. Probably going on a quick date or something. He weakly leaned against the wall, slowly falling down to his knees as he covered his face with his hands.

A few sniffles came out from him as he choked on his tears, each droplet falling down to the ground and soaking his sweaty hands. And now, he knows why Yaku asked to go home early today,

Kuroo hiccupped, a small smile appearing on his face as he laughed quietly to himself, “It’s okay, they’re a cute couple anyway. You’re strong, and you can find...better,”

It’s always been you, Kuroo and Yaku. And now, it’s only Kuroo left.

[joel-millerr]

Righting The Wrongs

Chapter Eight of We Are One When Together

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17k (yes, I know, I’m sorry)

Summary: Reader must face her past, and also deal with something they weren’t prepared to do... be without Mando.

Warnings: SMUT! rough sex (like... almost causing bruising so read with caution), oral sex (both female and male receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, shower sex, hair pulling, aftercare, a little bit of violence, angst (as per usual), 

A/N: I make shit up about using the force lol. also, my knowledge of coruscant is based off tcw and the prequels so if there’s something in here that doesn’t fit with the books or whatever, be nice :) 

--

“Who are we meeting here?”

“Someone I used to work with.”

As you make your way through the streets of Level 1313, you’re almost trembling with nerves. It’s a little over a year since you’ve been on this planet and you had been avoiding coming back ever since.

Firstly, Coruscant is way too populated for your liking. The streets are always filled with people, no matter the time of day. Crime lords, spice lords, rookies trying to make a living—legally or illegally, families seeking refuge; nearly every single person from all walks of life eventually made their way to Coruscant, overcrowding the streets and making it almost impossible to breathe.

Secondly, the lower levels of Coruscant basically have their own crime empire. Every illegal thing you could possibly think of existed here. The black market thrived, and the smuggling business was always booming. Despite your old profession being one of the very empires that fueled this economy, you didn’t like the idea of living and breathing that life. There was always a need to get away, forget about the job for a couple weeks and then, when you were itching for the thrill, you’d eventually return. Unlike you, your crew would live out their days here, getting high and drinking more than their own body weight in alcohol.

Thirdly, the last time you were here… didn’t really end well. In your defense, it wasn’t your fault that a shootout ensued—you were just trying to get the right amount of payment for the right amount of work. It’s not your fault they disagreed and resorted to shooting their way out of the deal, and it’s definitely not your fault a few of them died…

Needless to say, Coruscant was just another planet that you ended up leaving on rough terms.

Mando stays by your side as you walk together, so close in fact that your arms keep brushing against each other as you trek through the lower levels of the city. Even during the day, there’s very little light down here. You’ve ever only known what it’s like to live so deep underground and sometimes you’d daydream about what a life in the upper levels looked like. Do they live as extravagant as you imagine they do? You were told by a few drunk strangers in cantinas that the people who lived in the upper levels lived in huge apartments, way bigger than they ever needed to. Was that true? The idea of someone living in a home that actually overlooks the Coruscant skyline is something you can’t even wrap your head around. You’re convinced anyone who lives up there sold their soul for it. There can’t be another reason for it.

Upon arriving, Mando thought it was best to leave the kid on the ship. You—on the other hand, noted that the safest place for him is with you two. Besides, trusting that Grogu wouldn’t get himself into trouble while you’re both gone is a risk neither of you should be willing to take. Reluctantly, he gave in and now the kid is sitting in the makeshift pouch Mando made for him.

“Mando, I don’t like this,” you mumble under your breath.

“Neither do I, but we don’t really have a choice,” he replies, keeping his visor fixated on what’s in front of him. “You can go back to the ship with the kid, if you want.”

“And leave you here alone? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Realistically, you’re both aware Mando can handle his own in whatever could happen, but over your time together, you two have become somewhat of a unit. One doesn’t leave without the other. It’s an unspoken thing—no one bothered to mention it but also, neither of you have denied the company.

Ever since Mando’s confession, there’s definitely been a shift in your relationship.

The biggest change is that he’s become much more vocal. He shares his opinions more openly, he engages in conversation a lot more, and he’s not shy about showing you small displays of affection whenever he wants. When he moves passed you on the Crest, his hand always touches the small of your back or your hand if it’s within reach.

He’s also been a lot more engaging with Grogu. You can’t help but notice that whenever he holds him, Mando flexes his finger so that the kid can wrap his little claws around it. He speaks to Grogu a lot more and in turn, the kid mumbles incoherently back at him, as if Mando can understand him.  

It’s probably only been two days since Mando’s opened up to you about his favorite color—although you can’t be sure because time in hyperspace tends to blend together, but there’s been a lifetime amount of change that’s happened since and seeing him become more open and giving around both you and Grogu just reminds you of that softer side to Mando that he doesn’t share with many people.

As you look around and take in your surroundings, the streets begin to look extremely familiar. On your left, you see the diner you used to frequent with your old crew. They had some of the best sliders you’ve ever had. Even thinking about it now makes your stomach rumble.

Maybe you could pop in for a quick meal. You’re about to tell Mando about it but catch yourself just before you do.

He doesn’t take the helmet off. Kriff, how could you forget something so blatantly obvious. You haven’t even seen his face yet and for just a split second you thought he’d take his helmet off in a room full of people just to eat with you?

Stupid.

Shaking the thought of your mind, you try to ignore the sudden ache you feel in your chest.

“We’re close,” you hear Mando say and your previous thought is wiped from your mind. It’s now that you realize which cantina you’ve been walking towards, and when you turn the corner and see it, your heart drops.

The cantina you’re meeting this person Mando used to work with is unfortunately the very same cantina you used to celebrate with your squad after a successful spice run. A night full of drinking that usually ended with some random typical bar fight. Words spoken, blasters drawn, and the very rare shootout. Regardless of the night outcome, you were always back in the cantina the next night like nothing happened.

As you near the door, your feet suddenly feel like durasteel, gravity pulling you into the ground, stopping you from taking another step forward. Your heart is already in your stomach, heating your body up with haste. Stars, you haven’t been here in so kriffing long, and the possibility of getting smacked in the face with your past is something you didn’t plan.

Mando seems to sense your tentativeness because he turns his body to face you, his hand catching your forearm. “Are you okay?”

Trying to reassure him, the corners of your mouth curl into what could be considered a smile, although your eyes are screaming to leave.

Wherever he goes, you go, you remind yourself.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, passing him and squaring your shoulders just as the cantina door slides up. It’s in the early evening hours, so it isn’t too populated inside—just some of the regulars you’ve noticed that are always there, no matter what time of the day it is. Trying your best not to draw any attention to yourself, you drop your head down slightly, eyes shifting around the room, hoping you won’t catch sight of anyone who might know who you are.

Your attempts to be subtle are gone with the wind once Mando enters. The energy changes straightaway. All the chatter goes deafeningly quiet as a dozen heads turn towards you and having so many eyes on you causes your cheeks to heat up. For a moment, you had forgotten that travelling with a Mandalorian causes heads to turn and voices to hush. Of course, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride whenever you see strangers make the connection that you and Mando are together, but it’s quickly followed by major anxiety. Being stealthy and trying to keep to the shadows is damn near impossible when there’s a man standing next to you covered in what is arguably the most reflective durasteel in the galaxy.

“No fucking way,” you hear someone exclaim. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you turn your head in direction of the voice and see a female Twi’lek coming right for you. “Is that really you?”

“Dank farrik,” you mumble before they’re within listening range. Mando’s helmet cranes towards you.

“I thought you were dead!” Their arms wrap around your torso before you can even process what’s happening.

“Hey, Sula.”

“Stars, is that really you?” Another voice beckons, a hand clamping down on your shoulder, “You here for a job?” The male Rodian asks.

“Nah, not this time Odas,” you answer, angling your neck in the direction of the Mandalorian standing just a few inches away from you.

“Holy shit. A Mandalorian?”

“I’ll leave you to it,” The modulator informs you, and then he’s sauntering over to the bar. It’s not lost on you that for the first time in days, he’s left without reaching out to touch you in some way. Fortunately, you don’t have time to dwell on it before someone’s talking to you again.

“Come have a drink,” Odas begins to say, “It’s been too long since we’ve seen you.”

Your eyes drift off to look at Mando who’s in the middle of speaking to the droid behind the bar.

“Uh—” Before you can kindly decline the offer, Sula grabs onto your wrist and nearly drags you over to the table they were all previously sitting at. Already seated is Venka, a nasty piece of work. You haven’t worked with many Trandoshans, but the ones you have worked with were ruthless and dangerous. Each of them wanted blood, no matter what the situation was.

Odas pulls a chair from a nearby table and gestures for you to sit. Unenthusiastically, you slide into the seat.

“Everyone said the New Republic got your ass. Glad to see we were wrong,” Odas says with a smile, grabbing your shoulder and giving it a gentle shake.

“Travelling with a Mandalorian? How the hell did that happen?” Sula asks.

“I didn’t even know there were any Mandalorians left,” Venka mutters, clearly peeved about something.

“How much are you paying him to protect you?”

“What?” Eyebrows pulling closely together, you look over to Odas quizzically.

“She’s probably paying him in other ways, if you know what I mean,” Sula laughs, bumping her elbow against your arm.

“Oh, shut up, Sula. It’s not like that.”

Odas props his elbows on the table and leans in closer towards you. “Then do tell us how you managed to slip through the New Republic’s grip and then somehow get a Mandalorian by your side, because they’re like the—”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard the stories. ‘Best warriors in the galaxy’. So, they say anyway,” Venka hisses through his snout.

“Still hate them, huh?” Sula jests.

“I just don’t see it. Apparently, they’re the best warriors in the galaxy yet the Empire wiped them all out.”

“If that were true, there wouldn’t be one standing just over there,” your finger points to Mando still standing at the bar.

“Oh, okay,” Sula throws her hands up in defense. “We get it, you’re with him now.”

All of a sudden, you hear Mando’s voice coming from the commlink in your ear. “Stay here. I’m going to meet them in the back.”

Your body stills, wanting to get up and join in but knowing you can’t very well just get up and leave your old friends without so much as another word. As ridiculous as it seems, you feel like you owe it to them to stick around for a bit.

“Are you all waiting for the next job?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from the fact that Mando’s just gone off on his own. He can handle himself; you repeat in your head.

“Yeah, supposed to take off at first light,” Odas answers before throwing back a glass of red liquor.

“Still room on the ship, if you want to join.”

“Thanks, Sula, but I’m pretty much done with smuggling.”

Venka all but chokes on his beverage. “Kriffing hell, you’re kidding.”

Shaking your head slowly and lips pressing into a thin line, “It’s just not for me, anymore,” you say, glaring at him.

“Not for you?” He grits out.  

“Isn’t that what I just said?” You snap, feeling the annoyance itching inside you.

“Okay, let’s just take it down a notch, all right? We’re just a couple of old friends catching up. That’s all,” Sula interjects, in hopes to deescalate the situation.

Venka rolls his eyes before finishing his drink, swallowing it with a snarl. Why are Trandoshans so aggressive with everything that they do?

Sula clears her throat to ask, “So, what are you doing back here? Last time you were here, I believe you said, ‘I refuse to return to this shithole of a planet’.”

“I’m sure we’ve all said that about this kriffing planet at least once or twice, but we always find our way back, don’t we?” Odas says to you, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m not really sure why we’re here—” You start to say but are cut off by Venka.

“So, your partner doesn’t bother keeping you informed? How nice.”

“Oh, shut up, Venka. You’re so negative,” Sula scolds.

Turning your attention to him with poison in your eyes, you ask him, “What’s your problem?”

He slams his cup on the table, red liquid spilling all over the surface. It’s not uncommon for him to try and pick a fight, so you’re not entirely surprised by his behavior right now. You’ve only ever lost your temper on him once and Tye was able to pull you away before something really bad happened.

“You’re seriously going to come back here as if you did nothing wrong? Everyone—and I mean everyone here, was worried about you, and not a single fucking one of us received a hologram from you saying you weren’t in prison.

“And when Tye told us that a kriffing Mandalorian snatched you up, we thought ‘she’s a goner’. But here you are, parading him around here like a fucking trophy.”

Caught up in the moment, you almost miss what Venka’s just told you. “Wait, Tye’s alive?”

“Yeah, he’s alive,” Sula confirms.

“He managed to escape just before your ship exploded. He was pretty fucked up for a while, but he’s a lot stronger than we give him credit for,” Odas admits.

“I… didn’t know,” your voice is low, filled with guilt.

Venka laughs, answering you with derision in his voice. “No fucking shit.”

“I didn’t come here to parade him around. I didn’t even know we’d be coming here,” you explain, then angling your head to Odas, you ask, “Is Tye here?”

Before Odas can answer, Venka speaks up. “Why? So, you can finish the job?”

“Fuck you, Venka.”

Reptilian eyes glower at you, your own are all but seething in anger as you scowl back. Trandoshans—at least the one’s you’ve had the unpleasure of meeting, are always on the prowl for a fight. They purposely get under everyone’s skin in hopes to rile them up. Usually, you’ve been able to keep your anger under control but that was mostly because you had Tye to keep you in check, to bring you back down from a blind rage. Now that he’s not here, you’re sure everyone at this table doesn’t really want a fight but that they’ll happily watch if it comes down to one.  

“Excuse yourself. We’re leaving. I’ll meet you outside,” Mando’s voice suddenly cuts into your ear. Thank the Maker.

“Let’s just all calm down, okay?” Odas finally interjects.

“Actually,” you start to say, taking the drink in your cup that you haven’t touched and chugging it all in one gulp, “I have to go. It was nice catching up with you guys, though.”

Once on your feet, you turn on your heel and make for the door. Just as you’re about to head out through the doorway, you hear Venka hiss at you, “Does he at least take helmet off when he fucks you?”  

You should ignore him; you should just take the last two steps through the cantina door and disappear. You reallyshouldn’t turn around and punch him square in the face.

But, sometimes, they deserve it. So without another thought, you’re already stomping back over to the table, pushing chairs out of your way as you walk straight up to Venka, and punch him in the nose with so much force, he loses his footing and falls flat on his back. The cantina goes dead silent—everyone staring at you in complete shock.

“Is Tye here?” You ask, chest heaving.

“Uh… yeah, he’s at your old apartment. He’s coming with us on the job,” Sula responds, stunned that you actually just punched Venka in the nose.

“Thanks for the drink,” you say to her before whipping your body around and making your way to the door. It’s not clear, but you think you hear Venka shout something at you, something with the word ‘bitch’ in it, but you’ve already made your point. It’s not worth going back to hear what he has to say.

Looking down at the hand you used to strike him, you notice three of your knuckles are split open, little drops of blood running down your hand. In an effort to conceal this from Mando, you wipe it haphazardly along your thigh, just as you exit the doors.

Mando’s leaning against the door, his hands resting on his belt and once he sees you, he kicks himself off the duracrete wall to stand.

“What happened?” He asks, taking note of how erratic your breathing is. When the visor looks down at your hands, he grabs hold of your wrist, pulling your hand to him and inspecting the small gashes on your knuckles.

“It’s nothing,” you attempt to assume him, trying to jerk your arm out of his grip, but Mando’s much stronger than you, so he pulls your hand closer to his cuirass.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I really don’t want to get into it.”

His sigh breaks up in his helmet and you know he wants to press you again, but he ultimately doesn’t. “You took care of it?”

“I did.”

“Good,” he answers tentatively, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze and then letting go, starting to head for the hangar. You linger for a moment, staring down at your busted up hand and watching the tiny droplets of blood bead down your skin.

Fucking Trandoshans, you think to yourself.

As you stroll through the crowded streets, mulling over the conversation you had with your old friends, you quickly realize that if Tye really is here, you need to see him. You need to explain why you did what you did or didn’t do, as well as show him that you’re okay. Actually, that you’re more than okay. You’re the best you’ve ever felt which makes you feel incredibly guilty.

“Mando,” you call out because he’s a few feet ahead of you. He stops in his tracks and waits for you to catch up to him.

“There’s something I need to do before I go back.”

Grogu coos worriedly, his ears drooping.

“I’ll be okay, little guy,” you assure him, simultaneously trying to convince Mando the same.

Mando shakes his head. “No. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll leave the commlink open,” you say in an effort to ease his apprehension.

“No,” he says more sternly, the modulator dangerously low.

“Two hours. That’s all I’m asking for. If in two hours I don’t check in, feel free to tear this city apart looking for me, but I need to do this and I need to do this alone.”

Mando sighs begrudgingly, the sound breaking apart through the helmet. “Fine. Two hours.”

You mouth ‘thank you’ before disappearing through a crowd of people, and then darting down a dark alley.

With your hand hovering over your blaster, you slip through various streets and alleys on your way to the apartment you and Tye shared in between jobs. Every step you take makes your heart race faster, the reality of the situation sinking in. You hadn’t even taken the time to consider that Tye might not even want to see you. The last time you spoke, you hadn’t parted on good terms and now that he probably knows you’re still alive… it’s not going to be an easy conversation.

When you turn the corner onto the street of the apartment, you’re practically quivering. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage, palms are sweating, and you think about turning around. No one would know you were here if you left. The chances of you coming back to Coruscant after this are slim to none—you could do it.

No.

You have to stop running away from things that need to be faced. You’ve been running your entire life, trying to keep yourself busy in an attempt to forget about your responsibilities. Truthfully, you’re tired of running away. It’s time to right your wrongs.

Once you reach the building, your eyes slam shut and take a deep breath, exhaling slowly through your lips and head inside. Climbing up the stairs slowly, you hold onto the railing to steady yourself. The anxiety is really getting to you, now.

Was this a bad idea?

Fuck.

To your surprise, the door is open. Either it’s been abandoned, or you think he’s expecting you. Feet hovering in the doorframe, the pounding in your ears is damn near deafening but you press on, taking a step forward and then another and then another until you’re standing in the hallway of the apartment. The door hisses shut behind you, causing you to jump at the sudden sound.

The place is almost unrecognizable. The furniture in the sitting room is flipped upside down, shards of broken transparisteel littered around the room, and the room’s so dark, you can barely see a thing. The only light source illuminated the room is coming from the outside lamp posts, highlighting the disaster that’s displayed in front of your eyes. You begin chewing on the inside of your cheek, becoming more aware of the possible danger you’ve just walked into.

“So, you’re alive,” you hear in the darkness.

“Tye?” You ask aloud, eyes shifting around the room, trying to locate where the voice came from.

A silhouette appears from the kitchen, illuminated by the outside light fixtures. The shadow look like him, but it also doesn’t. The voice sounds like Tye, but its’ darker, rougher.

“Kriff, you’re actually here.”

You take a couple steps forward, stopping just shy of the counter that separates the kitchen from the seating area. Tye stands in the kitchen, hands pressing into the marble surface, taking you in. As his features become clearer, your breath catches in your throat.

Your best friend since you were a child. The one person that’s saved your life more times than you can count. The single person in this galaxy that has been with you through the darkest moments in your life. The person you thought you had seen die right before your eyes, standing just a few feet away from you.

There’s a darkness in his eyes that you don’t recognize. His eyes were a gentle, warm shade of green that made others gravitate towards him. They used to bring you comfort; you could be at your lowest and then when you’d look up at him, you’d feel at ease.

Now when you look at them, all you see are broken fragments of tainted memories. Like all the pain and suffering he’s endured in the last few months has been bundled up and are now locked in his eyes for everyone to see.

You want to reach out, but something’s stopping you. There’s not a single thing you recognize about him. Hair that was once blonde is gone, shaved off. His shoulders are more sunken too. He used to hold himself with such confidence, not unlike the kind of strut that Mando carries himself with. Tye’s cheekbones are more pronounced as well, and it worries you that he’s begun using spice more than he used to.

Unsurprisingly, it was somewhat normal for smugglings get high on the supply they were trafficking, and you’ve seen Tye do it from time to time. You—on the other hand, never did. You had seen what it could do to its abusers, and you knew better than to do something that foolish. It was kind of a twisted morality code. Willing to smuggle it and let others abuse it, and yet you thought you were above using it yourself.

“What happened to you?” You ask him, completely in disbelief that this is what Tye has become.

“They said you were back, but I didn’t believe them,” he murmurs, his voice so low that you barely catch what he says, his gaze fixated towards the ground.

Maker, even the way he talks is different. Tye had the bubbliest of characters. He was larger than life, his voice echoed in every room he was in, boisterous and kind. The type of intonation that was infectious. Now, his voice is rough, it’s terse—like all the joy has been sucked out of him and now there’s just a hollow sound left.

This isn’t the man you grew up with.

The thought makes you nauseous.

Did you do this to him?

Are you the reason he’s so… different?

“Why didn’t you tell me or anyone that you were okay?” He nearly croaks.

Guilt overwhelms you. “I… thought you were dead.”

Tye lets out a noise that’s similar to a laugh, but you know damn well he means anything but that. He takes a step back, rubbing the back of his head and takes a sharp breath.

“You could have sent someone a hologram. You could have come back to Kijimi. Stars, you could have come here but you didn’t.”

Your jaw hangs, trying to find the words that might justify why exactly you didn’t tell anyone that you were never arrested, but whatever reason you come up with hangs on your tongue, unable to actually speak. It all just happened so fast.

“I had to hear from fucking Sula that you were—not only alive, but that you’re actually fucking traveling with the same Mandalorian that hunt you down. The one that shot me out of the kriffing sky,” his anger grows with every word.

“All these months, I blamed myself for what happened. I thought ‘she’s probably dead by now and that’s on me. I was supposed to protect her, and I failed’.” He rambles, voice cracking.

“I fucked up, Tye and I’m sorry, but you have to believe me when I tell you that I didn’t intend for any of this happen. Everything happened so fast, I couldn’t…” Your voice trails off, too many thoughts racing to your mind, unable to sift through them and think of a coherent explanation.

“Why are you with him?”

“He… saved my life, Tye.”

Tye crosses his arms against his chest, scoffing. “What?”

And so, you tell what happened. You tell him about Nevarro, about the Empire, about what Ahsoka told you. As you explain everything, Tye’s expression changes from resentment to almost disbelief.

“A Jedi?”

“If I wanted to train… yeah.”

“Well fuck, look at you,” he mocks.

“Don’t patronize me, I’m trying to explain myself.”

Tye holds his hands out in defense. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Wringing your hands, you wait for him to say something else… but he doesn’t. He stares at you, like he’s waiting for you to say something else.

“So… what does this mean for us, now?” Your voice is soft, hoping there’s some possibility of reconciliation.

“There is no ‘us’ anymore,” he says lowly.

“Okay, I half expected that…” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck absentmindedly.

Not surprising.

“Did you really think that you could come back here and give me some bullshit excuse and expect us to be friends again? After the shit you put me through?”

“I guess not.”

Tye says nothing else, keeping the same expression on his face. Betrayal, pain, anger. It’s all staring you right in the face.

“Time’s up,” Mando’s gruff voice whispers in your ear.

Cursing to the Maker, you want more time. There has to be something else you can say to him that’ll better explain why you didn’t ask anybody if he was still alive but then you realize, you just didn’t do enough. Quite frankly, you did nothing. You should have done something, you could have done something but ultimately, you didn’t and that’s something you’ll just have to life with.

“I should head back,” you tell Tye, who just shrugs at you. Turning on your heel, you look over your shoulder to see him still standing in the kitchen. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re still alive.”

Please say something, you say to yourself as you make for the doorway.

He doesn’t.

--

“Everything all right?” Mando asks you as soon as you’re walking up the ramp.

“Yeah,” is all you answer.

He doesn’t press you, taking note of the way you’re clearly not in the mood for chatter.

You prop your elbows atop one of the crates, leaning on it and staring down at the ground. Feeling guilty about bringing down the energy inside the Crest, you find yourself trying to make conversation, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“What happened with your friend at the cantina?”

“They need me to do a job, and then we’ll have enough credits to pay for the fuel we’ll need in order to get to Tython.”

Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “What kind of job?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll be staying here with the kid.” He answers dryly.

Stunned, you push off the crate and turn your body to him, facing Mando head on and crossing your arms across your chest.

“Is there a problem?” He asks, taking in your body language.

“What if you need help?”

“It’s a four-person job. They had three before I agreed.”

“Which means you’ll be outnumbered if something goes wrong,” you retort, eyebrow cocked.

“I need you to stay with the kid.”

You clamp down on your jaw, tapping your foot on the ground while you consider his last words. “I don’t like this, at all.”

“You don’t have to, but it isn’t up for discussion.”

“But—”

“No.”

Exhaling sharply through your nose, you know he’s right. It is safer for someone to be with the kid and it’s not exactly like you can do the job instead. Once again, you’re stuck following Mando’s orders.

“So then, when do you head out?”

“Soon. I should be back before morning,” he answers, rummaging through his armory.

“Where’s Grogu?”

“Sleeping in the cockpit.”

“Mmm,” you hum in the back of your throat. Noticing Mando’s back stiffen, he takes one of the blasters off the wall, and inspects it.

As you watch him examine his weapons and take in the way he twitched hearing you purr, a cunning thought crosses your mind.

Since he refuses to let you come along, you want to give him a reason to be counting down the minutes until he’s back with you on the Crest. It’s not that you want him distracted, but the possessive side of you wants him to be constantly reminded that you’ll be waiting here—for him.

Without trying to be discrete, you saunter over to the armory, making sure to graze his arm against yours as you pass by him to pick up one of the multiple blasters hanging on the wall. Holding it your hand, you twist the gun around, in an unbashful attempt to get his attention, puffing your chest out as you stare down at the weapon in your hand. You can feel the visor on you, but you don’t look up. Instead, your gaze stays glued to what’s in your palm, knowing Mando’s studying you carefully, like he’s trying to understand what you’re trying to do.

Putting the gun back on its placeholder, you saunter passed him, the tips of your fingers hooking onto his cape, stroking the fabric between your fingers, then dropping it as you head over to the small closet where the ration packs are kept.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

Turning around to look at him, you cross your arms along your chest and with the most innocent tone you can, your tongue darts across your bottom lip and then whisper, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mando tilts his head and lets out a deep breath that scratches through the modulator, but he makes no move on you. Rather, he goes back to inspecting the weapon that’s sitting on one of the higher crates.

Okay… so you’ll have to be more unsubtle. Craning your neck to either side, you let out a small groan as you hear your bones crack, but once again, Mando’s visor stays peeled to the gun. Starting to get annoyed at the lack of attention he’s giving you, you start to wonder if you should pull back, give up and wait until he comes back in the morning, but honestly? You don’t want to give up. You know you can seduce him; you just need to find the right trigger. Feeling some courage and boldness suddenly overcome you, your feet bring you over to where Mando is standing, and come up right next to him, leaning back on the crate and propping your elbows on the crate behind you, puffing your chest out even more to showcase your breasts. He glances over at you for just a moment and clears his throat. “What?”

“Nothing,” you answer with a devilish smile. You’re almost close enough for your arms to brush against each other, but you stop yourself from closing the gap.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he tells you, voice strained and tight.

“Enlighten me, then.”

“No.”

Inching yourself closer to him, your hand grazes the vambrace on his right arm. He makes no sound, but by the way his chest puffs in and out, you know you’re getting under his skin, and that makes you even bolder. With your right hand, you grab onto his vambrace and slide between him and the wooden crate, essentially pinning yourself between the two. Mando groans deeply, his head craning to the left, exposing just the smallest amount of skin as he does. Stars, even just the sight of his neck causes you to squirm, rubbing your thighs together.

“Not enough time,” he pleads, nearly fucking panting.

“Mmm,” you whine back, bringing both your hands to grab at his waist, digging your fingernails into the fabric just above his utility belt. When Mando doesn’t pull away, you slide one of your legs between his, feeling his growing erection against your knee. His visor looks down at you and you can’t help but bite your lip in an attempt to hide the smug smile from forming. His hands are on either side of your body, pressing into the wood so hard you can hear it crackling under his firm grip.

Leaning into his body, your neck cranes upwards and you’re forced to go on the tips of your toes to whisper into the side of his helmet where his ear would be, “If you want me to stop, just say the word.”

“Fuck…” is all he manages to say, and then you’re slowly dropping to your knees, your face aligning with the bulge in his pants.

Your hands fumble down to the utility belt, but through hooded lids, you continue to look into Mando’s visor. Unhooking the belt, you push his flak vest out of your way and find the waistband to his trousers. Mouth practically watering, you swallow hard, and finally tear your eyes away to look at the bulge between his legs. Your pussy gushes as one of your hands push against the waistband to cup him inside his pants. Mando jerks forward at the touch, a guttural groan etching through the vocoder.

“Stars…”

You pull his pants down just enough for his cock and balls to spring free, and your jaw fucking drops at the sight. This is the first time you’re seeing him, truly seeing him. In that alley on Tatooine, it was too dark for you to be able to observe him, but now? Fuck, he’s a goddamn sight.

It’ll never seize to amaze you just how fucking big he is, it’s a shock he’s able to fit all of himself inside you. Steadying him by wrapping your hand around him at the base, you take a moment to appreciate him. Mando’s uncut with just tip of his head poking through. There’s a bead of precome forming from the tip, and you dart your tongue passed your lips to lap it up, the taste of him on your tongue makes you hum.

Your free hand settles on his thigh, while the other begins to slowly stroke up and down his length, licking up every bit of precome that oozes from the tip.

“Ah, shit… Feels so go—” He begins to say but is cut off by you engulfing his entire length in your mouth.

Mando grazes the back of your throat, and your body tenses, fighting the urge to gag. You pull away from him slowly, hallowing your cheeks as you feel every vein of his cock until he slips through your lips with a loud, wet pop. Your tongue darts along your bottom lip, coating it with saliva before taking him once again. Repeating the process a few more times, and feeling Mando writhe from your slow taunt, he unexpectedly becomes impatient. His hips grind against you, practically begging for more. He’s entirely at your mercy, being the one in control right now is making you dizzy. To see someone as strong and commanding as Mando practically mewling because of you is sending you on a power-trip.

When you take him in your mouth again, instead of pulling away, you begin bobbing your head up and down his cock, the wet sounds echoing through the Crest walls. Already, you’re getting better at taking him into your mouth without gagging as much. Because of his size, you do end up gagging a couple times, your body tensing as he grazes the back of your throat, but you press on, because hearing Mando praise you over and over is intoxicating.

“Kriff, your mouth feels so fucking good… fuck… makes me want to bend you over his crate and fuck you until you’re begging to come.”

Hearing him only spurs you on, guiding him as far as he can go, and letting him just sit in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his girth, precome dripping down your throat. It’s salty, but it’s also the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted in your life. A mixture of saliva and precome dribbles down your chin, but you continue to swallow as much of him as you possibly can, nothing’s going to stop you from making him come like this.

Your panties are fucking soaking now, pussy throbbing and damn near hurting from the lack of touch. All your concentration is being focused on making Mando feel good, and he knows it. He knows this is for him, and he’s reveling in it.

“I bet you’re so fucking wet right now, pretty girl,” he pants, placing one of his hands behind your head and cradling it gently as he begins to fuck your mouth. Just as you start to feel him twitch inside you, a faint alarm begins to ring, and you feel him still.

He has to leave.

“I-I ha-ave to go,” he whimpers, your lips still firmly wrapped around his cock.

But you don’t stop. When you feel him try to pull away, your hands grab onto his hips, digging your fingers into him and trying your hardest to keep him right where he is, and begin sucking him even faster, bobbing your head up and down his length at a quicker pace.

“Oh fuck… that feels so fucking good.”

The alarm is still ringing, but you don’t care. You’ll make damn sure he’ll come, you just need a few more minutes…

He holds your shoulders, keeping you in place and then he’s backing away from you. His cock slips through your lips, leaving a trail of spit behind that falls down your chin. Before you can begin to feel disappointed, Mando hooks his arms under yours and lifts you to your feet, only to spin you around and push you against the crate, bending you over, the gun falling to the ground.

“Do you see what you do to me?” He growls at you, grabbing the waistband of your pants and pulling them down to your knees. “I have to leave.”

Your chest is heaving, arousal making your head spin as you wait impatiently for what he’ll do next. “So, go,” you mutter breathlessly.

“You want me to leave?” He taunts. You hear something light hit the ground, and then he’s pushing your underwear to the side and cupping your sex with calloused fingers.

“Fuck!” You cry out, the touch already relieving some of the building pressure.

“Maker, you’re fucking soaked,” he admires, and then he’s sticking two thick fingers deep inside your pussy, curling them and hitting that spot inside you that nearly blinds you. Jerking forwards, your stomach digs into the blunt edge of the crate, but feeling Mando’s fingers fuck you overpowers the discomfort. It’s desperate, it’s rough, and hurried but that makes it all so much more exhilarating.

“I’m gonna c-come,” you pant into surface, almost surprised at how close your orgasm is.

Mando suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out of you and smearing your slick all over your entrance and clit.

The tip of his cock pokes your entrance, but he doesn’t move. He strokes himself between your folds, teasing you. “I have to go,” he groans.

You grind your hips against him, and push your ass out, arching your back in the hope that he’ll slide inside you, and to your surprise, he does. He aligns his hips with yours and slams right into you, pushing you further up the crate, fully sheathing himself between your walls.

He wastes no time fucking you, holding both your shoulders and jackhammering into you so hard, there’s no fucking air in your lungs. Your feeble whimpers are breathless and empty, jaw fully slack as he continues to wreck your cunt.

“Mando? Where the hell are you?” A voice comes from the commlink on his vambrace.

“Fuck,” he growls, somehow quickening his pace and driving you fucking insane. You don’t even know how close you are to coming until it’s ripping through you, almost making you convulse underneath him, sobbing brokenly into the air. Your fingernails are digging into the wood so violently, you hear it splinter. Knees buckling, you’re already completely spent, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You’re supposed to be here by now. Mando, where the fuck are you?”

Grinding his hips even more into your ass, he bends over so his cuirass is pressed against your back, his cock hitting a part inside you that only he knows how to touch. You’re so fucking full, a second orgasm is moments away if he continues to fuck you from this angle.

“Do you see what you do to me? Ah—shit, I’m supposed to be with them, but—fuck, instead I’m here,” He snarls in your ear, the side of his helmet grazing your cheek.

Tears are forming in the corners of your eyes, feeling his body weight press you into the hard surface, and his cock driving you fucking wild. Your mind is blank, your throat is bone dry—unable say a fucking word. You’re helpless underneath him.

“Pretty girl, you’re going to be the death of me.”

His weight leaves you, and then he’s grabbing both your hands, crossing your arms behind your back and holding them in place with one hand. He starts a pace so mind-blowing hard, pounding his cock inside you and hitting your cervix with every thrust. It’s the most delicious pain you’ve ever experienced. If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to stop, but this is Mando. He knows what you can and can’t handle better than you do, so you let him slam into you at a grueling speed. You can hear his balls slap against your skin, and another orgasm begins to form deep in your belly.

He grinds into you a few more times and then he’s somehow burying himself even more inside you, and you snap. A second orgasm splits you apart, whatever pathetic noise comes out of you is drowned out by Mando’s guttural groan as he reaches his own climax, his cock pulsing as his seed is pumped deep inside you.

“Mando!” The male voice shouts once again through the commlink.

Even though you’re entirely spent, a laugh escapes you. He’s just completely ignored someone calling him just so he could finish fucking you.

“Coming,” he responds curtly, pulling out of you quickly and tucking himself back in his pants.

You don’t expect Mando to linger any longer than he absolutely needs to, so with the very little strength you have left and using your palms, you push yourself upright, knees shaking profusely, and to your surprise, he grabs the waistband of your pants and begins tugging them back up your legs.

“Mmm, it’s okay. I’ve got it,” you try to assure him, but he doesn’t listen. He shimmies them back up until they’re around your waist, and then he’s turning you to face him.

“I have to go,” he tells you, and you sense some regret in his voice. He doesn’t want to leave, either.

“I know,” you smile at him, sheepishly.

Mando reaches out, both of his hands cupping the sides of your face and presses the helmet against your forehead. The coolness of the beskar feels amazing against your hot skin. He lets out a deep breath, baritone dangerously low as it comes up tight through the helmet. You press back into him, closing your eyes and taking in this sweet, tender moment. Letting out a deep breath through your nostrils, the smell of beskar and Mando’s own scent—a mix of soap that you’ve grown used to smelling on yourself, as well as hints of sweetness and musk, almost drowns you but in the best fucking way possible.

“Come back in one piece, okay?”

He doesn’t respond, only continues to hold your face in his hands. Time seems to still, and for a fraction of a second, it’s just you and him. It’s somehow the most intimate moment you’ve shared. Without saying a word, you say your good-bye’s and watch him head down the ramp, waiting until he’s no longer in sight before heading the fresher.

--

It’s been a couple hours since Mando left, and you hate to admit it, but you miss him… like a lot. Definitely more than you should. Come to think of it, this is the first time since Kijimi that you’ve been away from each other for this long. Ever since then, you’ve been beside each other, or at the very least knew where the other was, but right now? You have no idea where he is, who he’s with or how long he’ll be gone, and you’re driving yourself crazy.

You keep commlink open—just in case anything goes wrong, he’ll be able to contact you and while you pray to the Maker that nothing does go wrong, you can’t help but wish to hear his voice through the little speaker.

A simple check-in would instantly calm your nerves, but you know better than to call him yourself. He could be hiding; he could be in the middle of a gunfight. The last thing he needs is hearing your voice asking him if everything is okay and distracting him. Needless to say, the negatives outweigh the positives, so you continue to pace anxiously up and down the galley of the ship, waiting to hear that intoxicating voice of his.

The kid’s been up for the last half an hour, babbling to himself with that kriffing ball in his grip. You feel bad for him, being stuck in this hunk of metal all the time but risking both of your safeties just for a little walk around is simply not worth it. The quicker Mando gets the job done, the sooner you’ll be off Coruscant and on your way to Tython.

You could try to get some sleep, but you know damn well you’ll be tossing and turning in the cot, anxiously waiting to hear his voice on the commlink.

There has to be something you can do that’ll keep your mind occupied…

Grogu looks up at you in your lap, cocking his head to the side as his ears peak up at you, and then you get an idea.

Ahsoka had told you Grogu was trained at the Jedi Temple for years before being forced into hiding, and since you’re both bored, this could be the perfect time to practice. Albeit, you have no idea what you’re doing, but anything is better than sitting around waiting for Mando’s return.

At first, you consider staying within the Crest, but there isn’t nearly enough room, and quite frankly, you know the two of you could benefit from not being locked up in the ship. Picking Grogu up into your arms, and grabbing your blaster, you make for the ramp and descend it. The hangar is empty, now. The owner’s retreated for the night, so you don’t have to worry about being watched.

The hangar itself is much larger than Peli’s. Easily twice the size, and it’s located on a large platform that overlooks the underworld portal. It’s the perfect place for a quick getaway and doubles as a scenic view.

Sometimes between jobs, you’d come to one of these various hangars and spend hours just looking at the steady flow of traffic coming in and out of the lower levels. You’d sit on the edge of the hangar; feet dangling in the air and stare up in amazement that something this vast could exist in the galaxy. Thousands of different beings travelling through this canal, beings you’ll never know or see again, but being aware that each of them had their own life, their own struggles and triumphs, all travelling in the same place at the same time is almost hard to wrap your head around.

You settle Grogu on a nearby table and place your blaster just to his right, making sure to turn the safety on.

“Grogu,” you say softly, holding your hand out face up at him. “Give me the ball.”

He hesitates at first, pulling the ball closer to his chest, but you continue to coax him, speaking gently until he finally places it in your hand.

“Thanks, little guy,” smiling and wiggling your finger in front of him, you then take a couple steps back.

You could try to push the stone to him, but you haven’t the slightest idea how to do that, so instead you opt to get Grogu to take the ball from your hand. Holding the ball between your thumb and index, you begin to sweet-talk him into taking the ball from you.

“Okay, let’s do this, kid. Can you take the ball out of my hand?”

His head moves from side to side and his arms reach out as far as they can, cooing happily.

“Come on, you did it with Mando. I know you can do it.”

Squinting his eyes momentarily, his hands start to twist and all of a sudden, the stone flies from your hand into his. The baby squeals with excitement, showing you the sphere in his grip with pride, and then resumes sucking on the durasteel, no longer interested in what you had planned to keep you two busy.

You smile to yourself, amazed that this little creature can do things that you would have never anticipated. The thought of reuniting him with a Jedi and the possibility of having to say good-bye breaks your heart. You’ve grown such an attachment to him. Seeing him every day, feeding him, playing with him, watching his little face light up whenever you give him the ball, and even seeing the gentleness in Mando that Grogu exudes from him, it’s all things you’ll miss dearly.

Looking down at your palm, you wonder if you’ll also be able to wield the Force and carry something over into your hand. Eyes meeting the blaster that’s resting to Grogu’s left, you begin trying to clear your mind and focus only on the gun and bringing it into your grip. Extending your arm as far as it can, you take a deep breath and exhale through slightly parted lips, furrowing your eyebrows as your concentration on the blaster grows. All the white noise suddenly drowns out, hearing only the steady thumping of the blood in your ears. Your fingers are shaking but the gun doesn’t budge. It stays completely still on the table.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, your arm drops to your side. Maker, you know it’s possible, you’ve done it before during a fight, but of course the one time you actually try to do it without having the threat of death, you’re unable to get that kriffing blaster in your hand.

Squaring your shoulders, you close your eyes and once again try to clear your mind, focusing only on the Force—feeling it flow through your body, harnessing its power, and bending it to your will. In an attempt to steady your heartbeat, you take, deep, long burning inhales, feeling your lungs expand as much as they can, holding the breath for a few seconds, and ever so slowly letting exhaling through your nose, all the while keeping your eyes closed and maintaining your focus on the Force.

You crane your neck from side to side and roll your shoulders a couple times and then your arm slowly raises once again, lining up with the blaster, and transfer all the power you feel inside you to the palm of your hand, and then to the tips of your fingers. You can picture the blaster in your head. The soft curve of the handle that connects to its clip, the narrow barrel pointed in your direction. As you continue to piece the weapon together in your mind, you start to feel a strong current flow through your veins to the palm of your hand. It’s more powerful than anything you’ve felt before, and yet it doesn’t scare you in the slightest. Instead, it feels empowering and familiar. When you finally open your eyes, they shift to your hand and your jaw damn near drops.  

The blaster is in your hand, fingers wrapped around the handle tightly. Bringing it closer to your chest, you examine the gun as if it’s the first time you’ve ever seen it. Your eyes move between it and the table a couple feet away, completely stunned that you were actually able to do that yourself.

“Did you see that?” You call out to Grogu who’s squealing with joy. You’re not sure if he actually understands why you’re so giddy, but you’d like to think he does anyway.

Making your way over to him, you wiggle your finger in front of him and gently bop him on the nose. Not too far away, you see a piece of scrap durasteel on the floor. Peering down at Grogu, you shrug your shoulders. “Should I try it?”

He coos curiously and you take that as him saying ‘yes’. Repeating what you did previously, you raise your arm in front of you and focus on the small item and inhale through your lips, exhaling through your nostrils. Clearing your mind and only thinking of durasteel, you watch it begin to shake on the ground. Excitement sets in as it slowly lifts off the ground, hovering in the air for just a moment and then, it flies into your hand, causing you to lose your balance from the power of it.

“Oh, fuck yeah!” You exclaim.

“Holy Maker, you weren’t bullshitting me,” you hear behind you. Moving quickly, you drop the durasteel to pick Grogu up in your arms, grabbing your blaster and whipping your body around to point it at the person behind you. Tye lifts his arms, showing he’s empty handed.

“Whoa! Take it easy, I’m unarmed.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you slip the blaster back in its holster on your thigh and take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“You can’t just sneak up on people like that, and how the hell did you know where I was?”

“I have my ways,” he says, eyebrows darting up and down in jest. “What is that?” He asks when he sees the green baby in your arms.

“I’m not sure, really,” you answer honestly, looking down at Grogu.

“Didn’t think you had any motherly instincts.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Neither did I.”

Tye passes by you, heading for the edge of the hangar. You eye him cautiously, trying to gauge what he’s up to. When you see him sit down, feet dangling off the edge like you used to do, you walk over to him, still holding Grogu in your arms. You catch yourself just before you’re within earshot and put the kid down.

“Can I trust that you won’t tear this place apart?”

The kid mumbles something at you and begins waddling away.

“I’m keeping an eye on you, you little womp rat!” You shout at him, before strolling back over to where Tye is and sit to his right.

You’re looking at him, trying to find something recognizable about him, something that could show you he’s still the same person you knew when you were kids, but everything about him is different. He looks like an entirely new person.

“Do you remember the first time we got here?” He asks, staring at the portal’s traffic.

Your eyes leave him to look at the various ships coming in and out of the ports. “I remember thinking ‘I hate it here’.”

The corners of his lips curl into a smile. “Yeah, you always hated busy places.”

“They’re just too noisy. You can barely hear yourself think down here.”

“Yeah…”

Neither of you speak for several minutes. You know he’s here for a reason. Whether it’s to forgive you or kill you, that’s probably up to what you say next.

“Tye, I’m really sorry for what I did,” you whisper, tearing your eyes away from the portal to stare at his side profile. “I was being selfish, and I didn’t take anyone’s feelings—especially yours, into consideration.”

“You know, when I got the hologram from Sula and saw Venka’s bloody nose in the background, I just knew it was you.”

Rolling your eyes, you jab him with your elbow. “You did not.”

“You’re the only person with enough nerve to punch him.”

“That’s true… It felt pretty damn good too.”

Tye chuckles, shaking his head. The sound instantly reminds you of all the moments you’d tell him a stupid pun and watch him cackle like it’s the funniest joke he’d ever heard in his life.

“Do you ever think about getting out?” You ask him.

“Getting out?”

“Yeah, putting all this smuggling shit behind you and finding a nice, quiet planet to live out the rest of your days. Meet a local girl and settle down. Maybe even have a couple kids.”

For the first time since you sat down, Tye looks over at you, and the kindness in his eyes that had seemed to disappear is looking back at you, bringing you to your younger years on Tatooine. That outgoing, carefree kid that always got you in trouble. The guy who laughed at everything, who found the silver lining in any given situation; he’s looking right at you.

“Nah, I’m not built for that kind of life.”

“Life has a way of throwing you some curveballs.”

“I see that…” he says with that smile that always brought you joy.

It suddenly dawns on you that this is Tye’s way of saying good-bye. That—after this conversation, you’ll probably never see each other again. You’ll no longer be involved in each other’s lives. There won’t be any more meetups on Kijimi or Coruscant or any other planet, and while the thought makes your chest tighten, you understand why. Honestly, you don’t know how you’d be able to forgive a friend for doing what you did, let alone have it be your oldest friend. Without even knowing it, you’ve chosen who you wanted your family to be, and to your surprise, it isn’t Tye.

Against your better judgement, you lean your head on his shoulder. At first, he stiffens, and you worry you’ve gone too far, but then he relaxes, even craning his neck to lean his head against yours, breathing you in.

“I hate to admit it, but you seem happier.” He tells you, feeling defeated.

“Hey, are you there?”

Mando’s voice in your ear makes you jump. Putting a finger up to Tye, you excuse yourself and walk back towards the Crest, just far enough so he’s no longer without earshot, all the while making the kid hasn’t gotten into any trouble. You catch him waddling around the hangar, chasing what looks to be some kind of flying insect. Womp rat.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, pressing your finger into your ear.

“The job’s taking longer than I thought. It’ll take another day or two,” he speaks low, like he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s talking to you.

Your heart drops. Another day? You hadn’t even considered the idea that he might be gone longer than he expected. Does he need help? Has something gone wrong? Should you ask to meet him?

“Are you still there?”

“Shit, yeah, sorry I’m here,” you answer, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“Don’t let the kid out of your sight. Stay inside the Crest.”

“Okay…”

“I’ll try to check in again, but I might not be able to.” There are voices in the background, calling for him. “I have to go. I’ll see you soon.”

The other end goes silent. He’s gone.

Refusing to let yourself get too upset, you exhale through your lips and roll your shoulders, turning back over to Tye who’s still sitting on the ledge.

“What was that about?” He asks as you get closer, using his arms to push him back to his feet.

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

“So secretive,” he teases.

A sudden crash grabs your attention. Twisting your body in a panic, you see Grogu standing alongside a pile of miscellaneous scraps that have fallen over.

“Dank farrik. Kid!” You call out as you jog over to him. Once he sees you coming for him, he runs over to you, squealing in fear.

“Don’t worry, little guy. I got you,” you assure him, picking him up and holding him close to your chest. “You’re a little troublemaker, you know that?”

Grogu looks up at you and pouts, ears hanging low.

“I should get going. Gotta head out soon,” you hear Tye say to you.

“Okay.”

You stand a few feet away from each other, shifting awkwardly because neither of you know how to say good-bye.

“Well, um…” Tye says before clearing his throat, and then rubbing the nape of his neck with one hand.

“Good luck on your run.”

He looks down at the ground, kicking it absentmindedly with his foot. “Good luck with… everything.”

“Thanks,” you answer, voice barely audible.

You watch as Tye heads for the hangar door, waiting for him to look back, but he never does. You think about chasing after him, wrapping your arms around him one last time but your feet never leave the ground. They keep you firmly in place. With your chest tight, you expect tears to form in your eyes, but they never do. Not even seeing your best friend leave can bring you to tears. Does that make you a horrible person? Maybe.

The door hisses shut, leaving you and Grogu all alone in the hangar. You feel empty, like a part of you has walked away with Tye, and maybe there was.

He was your childhood, your adolescence… he was everything, and now he’s just gone, existing only in your memory.

“Hey,” you say, trying to distract youtself. “Let’s get some sleep, yeah?”

Grogu fusses in your arms and you head into the Crest, shutting the ramp behind you and going straight for the sleeping bunk. You crawl into the cot, placing him in the makeshift hammock and closing your eyes.

It’s gonna be a long couple days without Mando.

--

It’s been a day since you’ve last heard from Mando, which means you’ve been stuck in the Crest for a whole kriffing day, and you’re getting serious cabin fever. There aren’t any more ration packs—you and Grogu have finished the last of them a few hours ago and you’re still hungry. You both need some real food.

Remembering that diner you and Mando passed yesterday, it makes your stomach growl. It’s almost too tempting. You’ll both get some sustenance, and you’ll get time to stretch your legs. Really, it doesn’t take you much time to make up your mind. One little venture out can’t hurt, right?

Before heading out, you make sure to take your blaster and a two vibroblades from Mando’s armory. It may seem like overkill but it’s better to be safe than sorry. With Grogu tucked in the sash across your chest, you head out of the hangar.

Walking around without Mando is more dangerous, for obvious reasons. Only an idiot would pick a fight with a Mandalorian, so wherever you walked with him, you knew you’d be safe. It’s completely different walking by yourself. You know the area, you know the safer spots to walk and the areas to avoid, but you’re sure to keep your eyes open and walk with caution. Coruscant—no matter the time of day, can be dodgy. Should you have checked in with Mando that you were going out? Probably but it’s only for an hour or two and the odds of him coming back while you’re out are slim, so you take your chances. If he’s somehow able to find out that you left the hangar after he specifically told you to stay inside the Crest, you’ll just have to deal with the consequences, but until then, you’ll enjoy the little freedom you have right now.

Trekking the same route as you did with Mando, you keep your head down and navigate through various crowds of people, all the while keeping your hand just above the blaster strapped to your thigh. Even though you hate this planet, you can still appreciate its culture, and diversity.

Here, you can see every single possible being known in the galaxy. From Jawas and Wookies, to Gungans and Vodrans. Everyone eventually came to Coruscant, no matter who they were. If it wasn’t such a shithole, you’d probably enjoy living here. The best way to learn about other planets and other beings is to come to Coruscant where they had the knowledge about such things, and knowledge in abundance. It’s the metropolitan of the galaxy and if you were able to forget about all the crime and injustices that occurred here, you could probably stay just to learn.

The diner is almost full as it’s now midday. You’re lucky enough to find an empty booth near the kitchen when an older looking woman comes to greet you at your table with a datapad in hand.

“Hi there, can I get you anything?” She asks kindly.

“Can I have some broth and a plate of sliders, please?”

Looking down at the pad in her hands, she puts in your order and looks back at up at you with a wide, toothy grin, “Coming right up, sweetheart.”

As you wait for your meal, you look out the transparisteel and watch as waves of people pass you by on the street, exchanging smiles with those you make eye contact with. You wonder what kind of trouble Mando’s getting up to out there.

Is he nearby?

Is he on the other end of the planet?

More importantly, is he safe?

You wish he were with you. The idea sounds almost too domestic, sitting in a diner with you and Grogu, sharing a meal like normal people. It’s probably something you’ll never actually get to experience together but it doesn’t stop you from daydreaming about it. Never would you have guessed that you’d be longing for domesticity, for normalcy. Mando’s brought that out in you which is pretty ironic considering neither of you have experienced something close to normalcy in years but then again, it’s pretty fitting.  After living such a nomadic life, moving from planet to planet, risking your life every time you stepped out on a run, it’s all led you to this, to Mando and Grogu.

“Here you go, sugar,” the waitress says suddenly, two plates of food in her hands. She gently places them in front of you and Grogu. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

“Perfect, thank you,” you say, all smiles.

Grogu starts to eat immediately, grabbing the spoon with his firm grip and sipping the broth. Looking down at the food in your plate, you’re practically ravenous. This is the first proper meal you’ve had in months. While living off of ration packs have satisfied you up until this point, there’s nothing quite like munching down on real food, something that didn’t come out of a pack. You make a mental note to take some food to go before heading out, for Mando. You assume it’s been even longer since he’s had a decent meal and you’re sure he’d appreciate it.

You eat quickly, just because it’s so kriffing good. The attempts to really savor it are lost on you. The juices from the patty nearly drip down your arm, you’re sure you look a hot mess right now, but you pay no mind.

The best thing about eating something other than a ration pack is that this actually tastes like nutrition. Ration packs are just enough to keep up your strength, but they’re not made to satisfy you. It’s just to keep your body up and moving.

Before you know it, you’ve cleaned your plate. The kid has also finished his broth by now and is giving you sleepy eyes, blinking up at you slowly. A proper meal is enough to make anyone tired, including you, but there’s still a few errands you want to run before heading back to the Crest. Before leaving, you had made a list of all the things you’ll need to buy on your day out.

1.    New clothes

2.    Ration packs

3.    Soap

4.    Food for Mando

It’s a short list but having only a few hundred credits, you’ll have to budget everything very carefully, even try to bargain with merchants if it comes down to it. Luckily, you think of yourself as a pretty good dealer, so you’re prepared to do it if it comes down to that.

The waitress comes back to pick up the empty saucers and you ask her to for another platter of sliders to go. She obliges, again with a smile.

While you wait, you take the opportunity to pick a sheepish Grogu and place him back in the pouch across your chest and walk over to the counter to wait. Within a few minutes, the kind woman reappears from the kitchen with a paper bag in her hands.

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you answer, taking the bag from her hands, and placing a few credits in her hand.

“Safe travels, my dear.”

Offering her a smile, you turn on your heel and head out the door, back into the mayhem that is Level 1313.

Based on memory, you walk in direction of where ration packs are sold, remembering all the times you used to come to this very spot just before leaving for a job. Every building, every street sign, it’s all familiar. It’s like you’re taking a stroll through the past, almost seeing your old self in strangers you pass by, realizing how much has changed since you were last here. It’s funny to think that on a planet as vast and modern as Coruscant, you seem to be the only thing that’s actuallychanged. You’re no longer just looking out for yourself. Now, you worry about Grogu’s safety, you worry about Mando’s safety. It’s a change you couldn’t have anticipated but are so thankful for.

The merchant selling the ration packs cause you a bit of trouble, claiming the broth packs and bread packs are different prices—which you know is bullshit because you’ve been buying them for years. You’ve seen him do this before, to other women who try to buy packs. Why he thinks he could increase prices for women and not men are not unusual. Men tend to think women don’t know the actual price of packs and can therefore get away with selling them at a different price. It happens so often that most of the time now, women have their male counterparts buy the packs for them, since the exchanges usual end with them not receiving any packs at all, but you know his game. He’s been trying to hustle you for years and has never been able to get the best of you.

“This is enough for five packs, that’s all,” he says when you place some credits on the table.

“No, that’s enough for two weeks’ worth of packs,” you snarl back.

The man laughs at you. “Maybe on a smaller planet, but you’re on Coruscant, girl. It’s more expensive, here.”

“That’s such bullshit and you know it. Give me two weeks’ worth of packs and I’ll be out of your way.”

He scowls at you, his eyes glaring you down. “Have you gone deaf? I said five.”

Taking a deep breath, and craning your neck to either side, you press your palms into the table, leaning forward and stopping just inches from his face. “I’ll say it just one more time. Give me the fucking packs.”

“Hey, we’re all waiting over here!” You hear someone in line shout at you.

“Hurry the fuck up!”

“I can stay here all day, and you’ll lose out on way more than just a handful of packs,” you tell him, taking a step back and crossing your arms against your chest. “Your call.”

His mouth presses into a thin line. You can tell he’s considering it by the way he continues to glare at you. It’s not worth losing out on a whole day’s worth of business just for a handful more packs.

“Fine,” he reluctantly agrees, grabbing two handfuls of ration packs and throwing them on the table.

“Thank you,” you sneer, grabbing them all and stuffing them into your backpack.

1.    New clothes

2.    Ration packs

3.    Soap

4.    Food for Mando

The rest of the afternoon goes by smoothly. You manage to get everything you needed without overspending, and you’re pretty proud of yourself. By the time you’re back on the Crest, the kid’s fallen asleep. You bring him up to the cockpit and put him down on one of the chairs and let him sleep. Since you’ll be rummaging through the galley to put everything away, this is probably the quietest place for him to sleep. After putting him down, you descend the ladder and begin unpacking everything you bought today. Placing the ration packs where they belong, the soap in the fresher, and checking out the new clothes you got. Nothing too extravagant, just another dark colored tunic and some cargo pants but it’s perfect for you.

You look down at the commlink on your wrist, checking the time. It’s early evening, making it almost a day and a half since you’ve heard from Mando, almost two days since you’ve last seen him, not that you’re counting the days.

Okay, you are but that’s not the point.

The point is you miss him terribly. Each hour that passes is an hour closer until you see him again, but it’s also another hour that you haven’t seen him, and your body aches. Is that possible? To miss someone so much that it actually hurts your body? The only logical explanation is that he’s taken a part of you with him, leaving you with a gaping hole inside your body, waiting for his return and waiting for him to refill it. It can’t be that it’s just because you miss him so fucking much, it can’t be.

It can’t be…

--

You’re half-asleep in Mando’s seat in the cockpit when you hear the hangar door slide open. Eyes opening immediately, the familiar sight of shimmering beskar instantly releases all the tautness in your body that you held onto while he was gone. The relief and joy you feel seeing him after basically two days apart reminds you of something like teenage love. The inability to be away from one another even if just for a couple of days is almost embarrassing, given that you’ve tried so hard to distance yourself from the very love you have for Mando, but quite frankly, it feels fucking amazing to have someone to care for this much. The kid is still asleep in one of the passenger chairs, so you get up ever so quietly from your seat and tiptoe your way to the ladder.

Once you hit the ladder, you shut the cockpit door and then you’re racing down the ladder, jumping off of it before you reach the bottom. You heart is racing, the smile on your face is impossible to hide—not that you’re really trying to, anyway. Standing just at the end of the ladder, you watch as Mando heads up the ramp without a word, pressing a button the vambrace that shuts the ramp behind him. Once closed, the air surrounding you changes drastically. The smile disappears from your face, and all of a sudden you feel heat prick at your cheeks.

He damn near stalks towards you, only stopping momentarily to detach the jetpack from his back and then placing it on the ground lazily. It topples over, the noise making you jump but he doesn’t bother to bend over and pick it up. Mando’s got the visor planted on you, and you’re frozen in place, a pool of arousal begins to build in your lower stomach causing your jaw to slack open. Half of you wants to cower, to hide at the sight of him. A Mandalorian pursuing anyone is enough to trigger the fight or flight response but there’s something animalistic in the way he’s coming for you, and you’d be lying if your panties weren’t drenched right now.

“Close your eyes,” he says breathlessly as he draws in closer.

You obey immediately, and suddenly hear a hissing noise, followed by something heavy hitting the ground—his helmet? Before you can ask him, his hot lips crash into yours, pushing you up against the small wall that separates the refresher from his bunk. Large, gloved hands wrap themselves around the crooks of your neck, his thumbs resting on your cheeks. The yelp you let out in surprise is caught in his mouth, his tongue darting out to trail along your bottom lip before meeting yours.

The kiss is sloppy and rushed. His hands grab at your body, your waist, the small of your back, and then settle on your hips. Your own hands fly up to grab fistfuls of his hair. His locks are damp, probably due to sweat, and you pull tighter. Mando groans lowly in the back of his throat, feeling the vibrations in yours as your cunt throbs in response. He smells of gunpower residue and musk. It fills your nostrils, almost making you lightheaded from the sensation, it’s somehow the sweetest scent you’ve ever smelled.

Both of your chests are heaving, the need to pull away to catch your breaths continuously increasing. You continue to grab at each other hastily, one of his hands wrapping around your neck and craning your jaw to expose naked skin. His lips finally leave yours, although not without you trying to keep him still, and then he starts sucking at your neck. The stubble along his jaw scratching against your skin feels so fucking good.

“Thought about you… the whole… time… couldn’t… focus…” He growls into the crook of your neck between chaste kisses, already feeling the skin starting to bruise.

Maker, is it even possible to be this turned on, right now? Mando’s desperation throws you for a loop. You knew how much you missed him, but knowing he felt the same way is so comforting. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Need… need… to have you—"

“Stars… please…” You mewl back, hands dropping to his hips and pulling him closer to your body, his breastplate flush against your chest.

“Have to clean up first,” he whispers lowly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His voice is velvet smooth, like dripping honey. How can he be so gentle and commanding?

“Shhhh,” you tell him, before blindly grabbing at his arms in hopes to find his pauldrons and when you do find them, you start to detach them. Throwing them aimlessly on the ground and return grabbing at whatever piece of armor you can, you try to pry it off his body as he continues to lick and suck at either side of your neck.

It’s a little awkward trying to undress him while being so close to each other. You can’t even see what you’re doing so you’re sure it’s not the most elegant way of stripping him, and he seems to pick up on it because he finally pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours. You feel his hot breath on your even hotter skin and the urge to open your eyes almost takes you over, wanting so desperately to look into his eyes and see him.

“Let me do it,” he coaxes, barely above a whisper.

“But—”

He presses his lips onto yours once more, and just when you try to deepen the kiss by moving closer towards his body, he breaks it off. Immediately, you begin to hear various pieces of his armor hit the floor, heart banging against your ribcage in anticipation. Stars, you want him so fucking badly. You become impatient, grabbing the hem of your tunic and beginning to lift it up your chest.

“No,” Mando orders.  

Feeling his body close to yours again, his hands grab onto your wrists, placing them on his waist. Rubbing the fabric between your fingertips, you assume he’s wearing only a long-sleeved tunic now. It’s soft to the touch, just like his skin. As your fingers trail down his sides to the hem of his shirt, you hike it up just enough for your thumb to circle the v-lines of his stomach, feeling small bumps form on his skin.

Mando grunts through gritted teeth and then he’s dropping to his knees. Your hands are back in his hair, running your fingers through his wavy locks. He grabs the waistband of your pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them all the way down your thighs, lifting each of your legs and helping you slip out of them. Discarding them to the side, Mando’s calloused fingertips trail up your legs, kissing the very tops of your thighs as he makes his way to your underwear.

Placing a chaste kiss on the thin piece of fabric, you can’t help but tremble. Mando’s ability to be rough one minute and then gentle the next is quite literally mind-blowing. It keeps you on your toes, never knowing exactly what’s going on in his brain.

He hooks his fingers around the hem of your underwear and slowly pulls them down. You’re naked from the waist down and beginning to feel shy, being exposed and the fact that you’re unable to open your eyes and see his face or gauge his body language—it’s eating you up.

His fingers slide between your legs, tracing all the way up the apex of your thighs, forming goosebumps on your skin. Once he reaches your cunt, two fingers slip between your folds, coating them with your slick.

“So wet, pretty girl,” he admires.

All you can do is mewl when he touches you. Mando continues to massage his fingers between your folds, gathering as much of your slick as he can and then he’s pushing two digits inside you, causing you to lull your head back and accidentally hitting it against the back wall a lot harder than you expected.

“Fuck, that hurt,” you giggle, hands rubbing the back of your head.

“Are you okay? He asks, stilling his fingers inside you.

“I’m fine—ah shit,” you answer just he begins to curl them inside you, hitting that angle that only he knows how to reach.

Rubbing tight circles on your clit with his thumb, you arch your back, pushing your hips right into Mando’s face. Using his free hand, he holds the small of your back in place and darts his tongue out to lick at your bud. Your whimper echoes through the Crest’s walls, his tongue flicking your clit as he continues to finger fuck your cunt. All you can do is pull on his hair tighter, unable to move or squirm as he holds you in place.

Knees beginning to buckle, you can feel the stirring in your stomach gradually building, your orgasm bubbling up to the surface. Mando seems to catch this because he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a quicker pace, now sucking on your clit and making you fucking squirm.

“Ma-Mando, I’m g-gon-nna come soon,” you tell him, voice breaking.

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he flings one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading your legs apart and lapping you up with even more fervor. You’re basically quivering now, climax getting closer and closer, and Mando knows it. He knows your body better than anyone else, better than you know yourself.

“Shit, ah-fuck, Mando…”

Right as you feel yourself about to release, Mando pulls his fingers out of you and his tongue leaves your clit, placing a chaste kiss on your inner thigh and then rising to his feet. It’s damn near impossible to hide your disappointment. It’s infuriating—being so fucking close to release, only to be denied at the very last second.

“Why—” You begin to ask but the rest of your question is silenced by his lips crushing onto yours. His tongue finds yours and you can taste yourself.

“Shhhh,” he whispers onto your lips, and then he’s pressing his body on yours once again, arms wrapped around your back as he carries you into the fresher.

The space is just big enough to fit you both, your bodies practically stuck together. Your eyes are still closed and that only adds to the intimacy. His hands grab onto the hem of your tunic and he instructs you to lift your arms. You do as your told and he lifts the shirt above your head, discarding it at your feet. You stand there, naked and fully at his mercy.

“You can open your eyes,” he says just after hearing the door slide shut. At first, you hesitate, unsure if the room really is pitch black or if he’s trusting you enough to look at his face. When you finally do open your eyes, you can’t see a damn thing. The light inside the fresher is off and you feel a sudden rush of relief and disappointment wash over you because of course he’d make sure the room was dark enough so you couldn’t see his features. Why would you think he’d be comfortable enough to show you his face?

You don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s already pushing you up against the wall, hands resting on the wall to either side of your face and sucking at your neck once again. The skin is tender, little bruises protruding along the sides of your neck, but Mando is mindful enough to be gentle. Then his mouth trails down your neck, giving chaste kisses along your clavicle, travelling down just above your breasts, cupping the flesh with his hands. With his thumb and index, he rolls your nipple, pinching the skin and then giving it a gentle nip with his teeth.

“Maker…” you whisper in awe. No one has ever been so tender with you. With all your previous sexual encounters, you’ve made it clear that it was purely about sex—nothing more. With Mando, everything is different. Neither of you are in a rush. You take time to understand each other’s bodies; what makes you writhe, what makes you scream, what makes you come. It’s about what will bring out the most pleasure in each other. You could both spend the rest of your lives learning everything about each other, from the curves in your skin, to each birth mark, to each scar.

He pulls away momentarily and using what little time you have; you grab only his hips and spin you both around, so he’s flush against the wall. Your fingers grab onto the bottom of his shirt once more.

“Can I?” You ask him tenderly.

Mando says nothing and you take that as him consenting. You hike up his shirt just a little bit, waiting for him to either stop you or allow you, and when he lifts his arms up so you can remove it, you throw it on the ground, somewhere close to where your own shirt is. You stand just inches apart from each other, neither of you are able to see the other. Wrapping your arms around his biceps, feeling the curve of his muscles as your fingers trace down his arms, across his chest.

His chest is covered in marks, scars from previous battles he’s fought in. Your fingers brush over his pecks, down the centre of his stomach, all the way to the small trail of hair that meets his shaft. When your hands settle on the waistband of his trousers, you unbuckle them and begin to push them down. He helps you a bit, stepping out of his pants.

In the fresher, you’re both fully exposed, completely vulnerable in a way you’ve never been before. The last time you were in here together, it was after the first time you had sex. That was different. You were both still dazed in the aftermath of what happened, neither of you fully aware of each other’s own nakedness, but now it’s so different. You’re not only aware of each other’s vulnerability but you’re relishing in it.

Mando turns the water on. A warm, steady stream cascades over your bodies. Steam from the warm water quickly fills the air, blending with each other’s body heat. Within seconds, you’re both soaked and for the first time, you’re the one who leans in for a kiss. For the first time, you’re the one with the courage to plant your lips on his, to catch him off guard. Mando groans in his throat, catching the sound in your own and swallowing it. With your hands placed on either cheek, you think this might be the first time anyone’s actually held his face and Maker, how fucking lucky you are to be the one to do this. He’s opened himself up to you; something he’s never done with another soul. You might not know what his face looks like, but you’re able to make out enough of his features by touching them. The sharp cut of his jawline where you feel his stubble, his moustache has tickles and pricks at your skin whenever he kisses you. The curve and bump of his nose as it clashes against yours, it’s enough for you to paint a picture of what you think he looks like, and if he looks anything like what you’ve made up in your mind, it’s a damn shame that the helmet covers up something so breathtaking.

You lean down to plant a kiss on one of his pecks, feeling the goosebumps form right where your lips meet his skin. There are a million things you want to tell him: how much you care for him and Grogu, how much he’s changed your life, how thankful you are to have him by your side. All these things you’ll probably never be able to tell him because expressing how you feel about someone has always been something you struggled with.

Although, you get the feeling Mando is in the same boat. Like he too is carrying the very same confessions as you that he too is unable to express. Maybe you’ll never know how he truly feels about you, just like he might never know exactly how you feel about him, but sometimes, words aren’t necessary. It’s more about the way you lean on one another, the way you touch one another. It’s your own way of communicating. Expressing yourselves through each other’s actions—that’s what draws you together.

He deepens the kiss, wrapping his large arms around your waist and pulling you to him as close as he can. Sloshing your mouths together, darting each other’s tongues, lips saturated in each other’s spit, it’s the most chaotic, desperate kiss you’ve ever had. When you finally pull away, chests are heaving, you’re both practically panting into each other’s mouths.

Mando takes a small step forward, hooking his hands under your arms and lifting you off the ground. You lock your legs around his waist, feeling his rock-hard cock grind against your stomach and then, your back’s on the wall again. His large hands cup your ass, digging half-moons into your skin as he nips at your shoulder.

“Fuck me … please,” you pant in his ear. His cock twitches, feeling drops of precome paint your stomach.

He wastes no time obliging as one of his hands lets go of you to align himself with your entrance. You wait impatiently for him to fill you up.

His head pokes at your entrance and immediately you feel your pussy gush. Bucking your hips forward, you push his head inside you, a pathetic mewl escaping your lips.

“Impatient,” he scolds and thrusts himself inside you all the way to the hilt. “Fu-u-uck,” he grits, biting back a moan.

Your head drops down to rest on his shoulder, arms crossed around his neck. Mando doesn’t move at first, letting your walls acclimate to his size. When he feels you relax around him, he begins to slowly grind his hips against yours, making sure you feel every fucking inch of him inside you. Trying to stifle your moans, you bite down on his shoulder and he whimpers at the sensation, driving himself even deeper, hitting your cervix.

“Fuck!” You cry out, head lulling back to hit the wall behind you.

Mando begins properly moving, slamming into you at a fast pace. The sound of skin slapping skin is only exacerbated by the water still pouring down over your bodies.

“Ah s-shit… fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good,” Mando says through gritted teeth. You clench your legs around his waist and feel him grind his hips in response. “Kriff…”

He stills inside you for a moment, and you start to wonder if he came prematurely. When you open your mouth to say something, he answers the question before you can ask it.

“I didn’t come, don’t worry,” he mumbles breathlessly, and then he’s pulling out of you.

It’s stupid but you feel empty. You already miss the feeling of his cock stretching your walls, the way he fills you up so perfectly, like you were made to take him.

Your feet touch the ground, and you only have a moment to catch your breath before his lips are on yours. Tongues darting out to catch each other’s; it’s a wet, sloppy kiss, but with his hands cupping your face, hands that almost cover your face entirely, it nearly throws you for a loop.

He pulls away just far enough so you can still feel his breath on your lips, “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Maker, you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you just from his words. Turning you around so that you’re facing the wall, you hear him spit and then his cock is teasing your entrance again. Rubbing his length between your folds a couple times, slathering it with your slick, he lines himself up and slams into you with as much force as he can, knocking the air right out of your lungs as your cheek clashes with the durasteel wall.

His hands find their way to your hair, and he grabs as much of it as he can and pulls, forcing you to arch your back and steady yourself by holding onto the wall in front of you. The rhythm he sets is so brutal and rough, the only thing you can hear are his balls slapping against your clit. Your throat is raw, unable to make a single sound. Wrenching your eyes shut, the way his cock hits that spot inside you is making you see stars. There’s something desperate in the way he’s fucking you. The day and a half without you seemed to have really taken its toll on him, and now he’s taking it out on you. You’d let him leave without a fight if it meant you’d get fucked like this whenever he came back. Feeling your slick drip down your thighs, you know you’re so close to coming.

“Ma-ando, I’m go-o-onna c-c-come.”

“Good girl,” he praises.

When you finally come, the cries burn your throat, raw and broken. Mando fucks you all the way through it, never once relenting his rhythm, pushing as many whimpers and screams out of you as he can. Your body nearly convulses from the sheer power of your climax, exploding pleasure from every nerve-ending inside of you. Maker, you’re fucking spent. Knees barely able to keep you standing, almost going limp as you come down from your orgasm.

“Come again for me, pretty girl,” he says gently, dropping one of his hands to spread your legs and cup your sex.

“I-I can’t,” you answer with a trembling voice, making a feeble attempt to close your legs.

“Yes, you can,” he hums, forcing your legs open and using two fingers to rub your clit.

You squirm underneath him, the overstimulation really hitting you as the rhythm on your bud gets faster and faster. Your cunt is fucking worn out, you’re barely able to take any more pleasure but you refuse to let Mando down. You want to make him proud. Taking a shaky breath, you attempt to relax your trembling thighs and within seconds you’re coming again, biting down on your bottom lip so hard, you’re sure you’ll end up breaking skin.

Mando makes a guttural noise, a purely animalistic groan as he feels you come around his cock. “Fuck, yes… good girl,” he growls with praise.

Grabbing your upper arms, he pulls you upright and flush against his chest, peppering wet, messy kisses along the nape of your neck. Your arm wraps around the back of his neck, pulling at his wet hair. His cock drives into you at a ruthless pace, and then he finally stills inside of you. Pulsing between your walls, he pumps his seed deep in your pussy, moaning your name into your ear.

When his hold on you slackens, you nearly double over and fall to the ground. He pulls out of you quickly and lifts you back up to your feet. Turning you around gingerly to face him, he leans you up against the wall.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He says with his hands on your face, a hint of guilt lingering on his lips.

You’re pretty sure your eyes are closed but you can’t be sure. Everything is so dark, your mind fuzzy. “No, ‘m okay,” you answer sheepishly.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m okay, Mando.”

Feeling his forehead press yours, he plants a chaste kiss on your lips. If you had any energy left, you’d kiss him back but you’re teetering the line between consciousness and unconsciousness, too fucking exhausted to move any of your muscles.

After that, your mind goes… fuzzy.

It hits you in flashes.

You vaguely remember Mando cleaning you both up.

The water turning off.

Being guided out of the fresher.

Something being wrapped around your body—soft and warm, his cape probably.

Him slowly putting you down on the floor…

Someone warm close to you.

And then you fall asleep, the last thing you remember is feeling calloused fingertips grazing up and down your back.

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

hi sexc😈😈 may i request fluff/comedy & 9 w osamu, it can be written or smau whichever is easiest for you😝. ty jan ilyyyyy

When the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, your adrenaline spiked to unnatural levels, increasing the smoky haze that hovered over you. Since Osamu had declared his emergency, your mind struggled to comprehend the situation. How could you possibly conjure a solution when your brain refused to accept that your idiotic friend was now a toddler. A piece of you hoped that the Miya twins were merely pranking you – photoshop could work wonders after-all. However, any suspicions of the authenticity of the photo were eliminated the second your eyes landed upon the child held against your boyfriend’s chest.

Once he recognized you, Baby Atsumu broke into a smile and extended his little arms out for you. And the swirl of emotions eating away at your sanity were no match for the adorable child that was now staring at you. Without a second thought, you accepted him into your embrace, before squishing his face against yours.

“This is so crazy but oh my god he is so cute.” After permitting Osamu access to the apartment, you swayed with Atsumu, keeping him close. Sure, there were many problems that would need to be addressed now that a nineteen-year-old was transformed into a three-year-old. But for the next few minutes you deserved to just enjoy the company of the sweet baby.

Your boyfriend however did not share the sentiment. His eyelids were slightly narrowed as he took a seat on your couch.

“Don’t glare at me when this is your fault, ‘Samu.” The childish behaviour exhibited by the grey-haired twin was responded to with a disapproving tisk.

“Then stop cuddling with my brother.” His grey irises were dead locked on his brother’s movements, particularly how his fingers explored your face with interest.

“Quit the jealousy act. He’s a baby!” You shook your head, exhaling the retort with a gentle laugh. He could not seriously be upset by this.  

“That is a grown man.” Not sharing your enjoyment with the circumstances, Osamu brushed through his dyed strands in frustration. “I say we give him to my mom. She always says she misses when we were kids.”

“That’s your solution?” Rolling your eyes, you brought Atsumu to rest against your chest, lightly caressing his back. “You know, if he stays small like this you won’t have your best friend. You’re going to miss him.”

“Am not.” Accompanying the refusal dripping from his lips was a nonchalant shrug. But it was quite obvious that he was lying, and so you decided to push him on the subject.

“You will. That’s probably why this happened. You don’t appreciate him enough, ‘Samu.” As you raised your eyebrow, suggesting that he accept responsibility for the situation, Osamu elected to continue his denial.

“What is there to appreciate?”

Inhaling a deep breath, a growl was swallowed for the sake of the baby cuddled against you. “Okay. I’m going to enjoy the cuteness that is your brother, and you are going to reflect on your relationship with him. When you’re ready to say something nice to him, you can come see us in the other room.”

For the thirty minutes that followed your dramatic exit from the living room, Osamu was engaged in a staring battle with the ceiling. Occasionally he would shift on the couch and expel a low huff in frustration. The sound of laughter that resonated from the other room only increased his annoyance with the situation. He knew the solution was conveniently provided to him with a neat bow, but his stubbornness served as a barrier to accepting said solution.

The conversation that led the Miya Twins to squabble this time… was complicated. Osamu had notified his brother that he was planning on opening his restaurant in Kyoto, rather than Tokyo as originally planned. Atsumu reacted poorly and began listing the numerous reasons why the business would fail if the establishment was moved to Kyoto. Instead of responding to his complaints, Osamu dismissed the critiques with harsher words.

Puffing out his cheeks, the grey-haired twin lifted his weight from the couch before stretching his back. If he informed you about the substance of the fight what would you say? Probably that he could have responded better, and how his relationship with Atsumu while complicated, was filled with love.

Locking his gaze onto the door separating the two rooms, he inhaled a breath of courage then took a step forward.

Maybe he was being a bit too harsh. Maybe.

When he entered the room, he found you contorting your features in silly expressions to satisfy the child. Once your warm irises traveled to his, curiosity flickered to life.

“Look ‘tsumu, your big brother has finally learned his lesson.”

Osamu twitched at the comment, jutting out his bottom lip into a pout.

“Whatever.”

“Well, I know we’re excited to hear what you have to say.” Crossing your legs, you brought Atsumu onto your lap, before resting your hands onto his small ones. The soon to be cook joined you on the bed, his attention fixing onto the smiling blonde who was seconds from becoming restless.

“‘Tsumu. I’m sorry.” Issuing an apology to a baby was strange, he was unsure whether his brother could even understand what was being vocalized. Nevertheless, he continued. “I guess you were probably upset hearing that I would be leaving Tokyo.” But the mention of leaving brought tears to form at Baby Atsumu’s waterline, along with a whimper to sound in his throat. “He’s crying. What… y/n, help me.” Alarm immediately washed over Osamu’s features – how the hell would he stop his brother from crying?

“Just keep going!” You had known that the proposed change in location would result in a feud between the brothers, but you did not know that was the source of their argument today. “If you want to break the curse, be honest about your feelings.”

Osamu reluctantly grunted to illustrate his understanding. 

“I know you don’t want me to go, but it won’t change a lot. We’re still going to be twins, dumb – nut.” The sharp death glare that you administered forced him to refrain from cursing, and the fact it remained intact even as he adjusted himself meant you expected more from him. And unfortunately, he knew exactly what you were advocating for. “… What I’m tryna say is that … I love you and appreciate you.” Osamu immediately ripped his gaze away, with a light blush colouring his neck.

The silence that followed his admissions was abruptly ruined when Atsumu returned to his regular size. The adult male was now sat on your lap, crushing your legs in the process, a fact noticed a bit too late by your boyfriend.

“‘SAMU. I LOVE YOU TOO.” The blonde pounced onto his brother, drawing him into a tight embrace as laughter filled your lungs.

While Osamu was issuing you a glare, it was quite clear that he was relieved to have his brother back. Further, when you mouthed “I love you” to the male, you were met with a faint smile rather than a grimace.

That was the thing about dating a Miya twin, if you loved one, you had to accept the other. 

A/N: SO Pheebz dipped without a bye but I thought I’d still post this ;-; I HOPE YOU COME BACK WOMAN. also everyone else, pls enjoy!! 

General taglist:  @haikyuufairy  @newfriendjen @lvoejimin @moonlightaangel @gyozaaaaa @byun-nies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @graykageyama @amberalisa @yourstarvic @swoonhui @chaichai-the-weeb @dreamstormings @chibishae34 @haikyuusimp91 @volleybloop  @rajablast @idiot-juice-enthusiast @melonmayhere @cuddlesslut  @athenarosaline @memes-and-money @coconut-dreamz  @mismatched-loves @elianetsantana @tsumume @tsukkismamagucci

[skeezsbbygirl]

call me that too + kim seungmin

this one’s for anon who requested a seungmin scenario with a dash of oppa kink. i didn’t go too overboard hehe, just a sprinkle of a suggestive theme at the end (i’ll leave it to your imagination asdjhfrirgjgl cuz i can’t handle them feelssss ugh)

nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoy! oh and thank you for the love that you guys are showing for “peaches + bang chan” uwuuuu (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

REQUEST BOX IS STILL OPEN. STREAM GOD’S MENU AND VOTE FOR OUR BOYS.

[5:12 p.m.] A yawn escaped your lips as you managed to go through all your assigned lectures for the day. You logged out from your university's portal and shut your laptop close, not wanting to stare at the bright screen any longer. You sauntered towards the kitchen and opened the drawer that contained all your caffeine-related pick-me-ups. As you were about to grab a mug, your actions were halted by your phone's ringtone, signalling a call as it rang on the coffee table from your apartment's living room. You managed to accept the call before it was dropped.

SeungMong <3

"Hey," you answered, sauntering back to the kitchen as you cradled your phone in between your right ear and shoulder to keep your hands free. "Baby, are you busy?" Seungmin asked. You shook your head but you mentally facepalmed as you remembered that the boy on the other line couldn't see you, "No. I just finished some school stuff. What's up?"

"Can you come over? Chan-hyung wants to take us out for dinner," Seungmin replied and you could faintly hear Jisung and Changbin screaming in the background -- something about Chan covering food expenses for the first time. You lightly chuckled and responded, "Yeah sure, I'll be there in twenty."

An hour passed and you were all gathered at the boys’ go-to restaurant, which was three blocks down from your university's dormitory.

"Am I dreaming?" Jisung teased as he hopped off Chan's car, Changbin and Jeongin not far behind him. “Somebody drive him back home,” Chan groaned to which the younger one giggled, jumping on his back in the process. “Hyung, come on. I was just poking fun at you,” Jisung cooed at the elder, earning him a light flick on the forehead from Chan.

You beamed at the sight of the boys playfully bickering. “Pay attention to me,” Seungmin whined and nudged your shoulder. You broke into a cheesy grin and gave his cheek a peck, “You always have my attention.”

Seungmin extended a hand towards you, to which you gladly complied, squeezing his hand three times as you intertwined your hand with his -- your silent way of saying ‘I love you’. 

Soon after, you guys were seated inside the restaurant and you fell into each of your own said conversations. 

“How was your day?” Seungmin asked as he adjusted his seat closer to yours. “Better now that I’m with you,” you said in a voice soft with affection. Seungmin chuckled, “Stop it.” You shook your head, leaning closer so that your forehead touched his. “You’re so cute,” you teased, which earned you a pout from the older male. “You do know that I’m a year older than you, right?” Seungmin bragged. You rolled your eyes, “Your point being?”

Seungmin sighed in defeat, opting to plant a kiss on your lips, but you were interrupted by multiple groans and a chorus of complains. “Get a room already!” Felix exclaimed with his hands covering his eyes, a poor attempt to discard the sight of yours and Seungmin’s “sickening” affection, as Minho described it. You stuck a tongue out at Felix, “Stop being so bitter.”

Felix faked sob and Jeongin joined in on his act, embracing the older male and patting his head.

Soon, your playful banter came to an end as your orders arrived. You guys were eating in silence, uttering a compliment here and there towards the dishes that you were served, until Hyunjin called for your attention.

“Oh, (y/n), before I forget,” the older male started, only stopping for a second to sip on his drink. “I found that outline you’ve been looking for,” he continued. “Please tell me you have it,” you pleaded, eager to finish the book review that your professor has quested upon your class a week ago. Hyunjin nodded, “The copy is in the car, I got you.”

You cheered as you reached out your hand to give him a high-five. “You’re the best, oppa.”

With your response, Hyunjin immediately side-eyed Seungmin’s reaction. He might have known something or at least sensed something, specifically when Seungmin blabbered -- well, more like ranted -- about you not calling him the said endearment you just used on Hyunjin a few seconds ago. 

Let’s rewind, shall we?

Hyunjin was an hour away from a deadline, and yes, he admits that he may have finished his project sooner, but a certain someone, who goes by the name of Jisung, decided that it would be more fun to play video games over at Felix and Changbin’s dorm. “That stupid project isn’t even due for another day. Chill out, dude,” Jisung claimed with burgeoning excitement. Instead of turning his friend down -- or better, kicking his tempting ass out of the dorm -- he caved in.

Hours later, he was cramming at least two days worth of work into an hour. Then comes your boyfriend, Seungmin. “Hyunjin!” the younger male called out from their dorm’s entrance. “In here!” Hyunjin hollered, his fingers still hot on his laptop’s keyboard, seven more questions and a descriptive about his said stand on the project, and he’ll be done -- both figuratively and literally, his brain’s slowly pan-frying itself to destruction. He mentally cursed Jisung.

“Procrastination at its finest,” Seungmin mocked as he entered Hyunjin’s room. “You can nag me later, bur right now I have to finish this and then kick Jisung’s ass,” Hyunjin said with firm persistence. The younger lad sighed and sat down on a bean bag at the corner of the room. “I don’t have the energy to nag,” Seungmin whispered, but Hyunjin still managed to catch his words. He jokingly rolled his eyes, finding slight amusement towards Seungmin’s puppy expression.

“You and (y/n), had a fight?” Hyunjin asked, his attention still on his laptop but he figured he needed Seungmin for a little background noise to keep him sane, plus the guy’s one of his best friends. “Not really,” Seungmin disagreed. “Then, what got you all gloomy?” Hyunjin insisted, but he was only met with silence.

“Seungmo, come on, spill.”

“She addresses you as an ‘oppa’,” Seungmin blurted out after a few seconds. “Who addresses me as what?” Hyunjin asked, his eyebrows contorted in confusion. “(y/n),” Seungmin answered as he buried his face in his arms. “Seungmo, you do know that she does that to everybody that’s older than her, right?” Hyunjin replied, “It’s called being polite.”

“Well, I call it being unfair.”

Hyunjin chuckled in amusement, “Please elaborate.”

“You and I are the same age, which means that I’m older than her too, but she doesn’t call me that,” Seungmin whined.

And that’s how Seungmin ended up being silent for the rest of the night. You, being unaware of the situation, shrugged it off, thinking that he was just exhausted from his vocal lessons. Until, Hyunjin decided to let you in on the puppy’s cause of gloominess.

“Here, now go ace that literature course,” Hyunjin handed you the outline he promised, giving your head a pat in the process. “Thank you, oppa.”

“One more thing, (y/n),” Hyunjin said as he leaned down and whispered, “Seungmin wants to be called that too.”

“Huh?” you turned to him in confusion, but Hyunjin just stared at you and decided that you would come into revelation in a few seconds. “Oh,” you gasped, eyes lighting up in the process. “That’s why he’s been acting weird,” you added. Hyunjin smiled in approval, “Do something and wipe that pout off his face.”

The car ride back to your dorm was silent. Seungmin kept his eyes on the road, no words were exchanged between the two of you and he clearly showed no effort of doing so any time soon. You’re slowly running out of time as your building came into view a few minutes later. Seungmin slowly stopped the car and got out, he jogged towards your side and opened the door for you.

Go time.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” Seungmin said. His expression was sad but he still managed to give you a kiss on the forehead. He was about to pull away but you prevented him from doing so by holding his face in your hands. You stared at him lovingly, thanking the universe for bringing this man into your life. 

“I love you, oppa,” you whispered, but loud enough for him to hear you. 

A soft gasp escaped from his lips as his eyes widened, “What did you just call me?”

“Oppa, why?” you giggled and gave his nose a kiss. “Don’t get me wrong, I feel like I’m on top of the world right now, but you never call me that,” Seungmin wondered, his arms now wrapped around your waist, allowing him to pull you closer. “Let’s just say, a little bird told me,” you teased.

“Hwang Hyunjin!”

You laughed, “Don’t get mad at him.”

“Listen,” you called back for his attention, “I don’t call you oppa because I use that on everybody who’s older than me, well close friends of course, but you know what I mean.”

“And you, Kim Seungmin, are not just anybody. You’re my person, my everything, my whole world. You’re special to me and you matter the most,” you explained, pouring your feelings out for the said man. You were about to say more in order to get rid of Seungmin’s doubt, but he cut you off with a kiss.

You guys were practically making out in your dormitory’s parking lot, but it’s the least of your worries right now.

You pulled away first as you tried to catch your breath. “I love you so much, (y/n),” Seungmin confessed, his expression now darker as you witnessed his eyes fill with desire. “And I’ll prove that to you.”

“What do you mean, oppa?”

Seungmin leaned down, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Don’t test me, baby.”

You whimpered in response, “Do whatever you want. I’m all yours, oppa.”

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Lockscreens (ch. 2)

tw: Drinking

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff

All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*

Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?

Masterlist | prev | next

ch 2: Broken and New Promises (Month 1)

Nearly four years ago...

“Babe, guess what?” She looked up from the tea-cup that sat in front of her, over the pastries as (e/c) eyes made contact with gold. Her eyebrows quirked up as she took a sip, swallowing it and her apprehension. She had invited her boyfriend to their favorite cafe to tell him some life-changing news. “I just got scouted!” Her eyes widened, choking slightly on the hot beverage. 

“Really? That’s great!” 

“Yeah, it’s a two-year contract for now. They want to send me to their training camp starting next week and I’ll be gone for the next six months. After that, I’m going to officially join the team and everything!” A soft pout made its way to his face as he played with his fingers. “That means I have to leave this weekend.” 

Delicately placing the tea-cup down, a soft hand reached out for his. “Kou, it’s okay. This is the opportunity you’ve been looking for all of your life.” With a thick swallow, she steeled her nerves. “I’m not going to keep you here. Please, go live your life and you better be the best ace out there, okay?” 

“We can make this work! I’ll come home to visit, and we’ll call every day, I promise.” 

A sad smile; a clenched fist under the table. “I’m sure we can.” 

“I love you.” A kiss to her hand.

A squeeze from hers. “I love you too.” 

****

It wasn’t long before those promises were being broken. It started with skipping the ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts. Then it became unresponded texts spanning over multiple days. Phone calls were missed. Video-calls were forgotten and ignored. Visits planned and cancelled. The phone rang. (Name) glanced down at her purse at the sound, pulling the phone out. “Hello?” 

“Hey, (Name)! Was wondering, have you heard from Bokuto recently?” 

“No, I haven’t.” She couldn’t bring herself to smile. “He’s been busy with his new team.” A veiled sigh. The phone was squeezed between her shoulder and ear as she readjusted her basket.

“I’m not even surprised, it’s only been a month since he’s left after all. He was supposed to come back for the Gym 3 reunion dinner this weekend but nobody’s really heard from him in the group-chat.”

She let out a soft laugh. “I’m surprised you and the others still have time to meet up.” (Name) bent down, comparing two different packs of vitamins. 

“Yeah well, I like to remember my roots unlike some people.” His laughter warmed her heart. “Say, even though Bokuto isn’t coming, we still want you there! I’m sure the others prefer you over him anyways. Besides, I miss my best friend!” 

A gentle hum in response as she reviewed her calendar. “This weekend right? I should be free, just send me the details.” 

“Great! See you soon.” She ended the call, staring at her phone screen for a moment longer. It was a picture of (Name) and Bokuto underneath the sakura trees, petals falling onto their heads as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Another drawn out sigh before she locked the phone, tucking it away to finish running errands as she placed a bottle of vitamins into her basket.

****

“Hey, you made it!” (Name) stepped into the restaurant, glancing around only to find a tall, dark-haired idiot waving his arms aggressively. 

“I said I was coming, didn’t I?” Her good-natured laugh made the others around the table break out into chuckles. Kuroo patted the empty seat beside him, gesturing for her to take it. “Where’s Akaashi?” (E/c) eyes scanned the table. Across from her, Tsukishima was sitting beside Lev, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else but there. An empty seat was left on Kuroo’s other side.

“He couldn’t make it. Something about deadlines.”

“Guess the Fukurodani boys aren’t loyal to their roots,” she teased, elbowing Kuroo. His loud laugh caught the eyes of the rest of the patrons as she rolled hers. Kuroo always had an obnoxious laugh, one that fit his messy hair.

“At least you came.” He pulled her into a side-hug. “Missed you, Manager-chan.” Soon enough, they had all placed their orders. Smiling behind her glass of water, she observed as Lev and Kuroo finished their beers, bellies shaking with the roar of their laughter. Tsukishima wasn’t quite as vocal, but his cheeks had also become tinged pink from the beer.  Kuroo wiped a tear away from his eye, trying to speak before Lev made another comment that sent the older male into another fit of laughter. 

“So, how have you been, Tsukishima?” She sent the boy a sympathetic smile, coaxing him to join in the conversation. 

“You know you can just call me Kei,” the boy rolled his eyes, cheeks becoming slightly more bright. “I’ve been good, just focusing on school work. How are you (L.Name)-san?”

“And I told you years ago, Kei, call me (Name),” she giggled, taking another sip of water. “I’ve been okay, just about finished with my degree.” 

“Right, what are you studying again?”

She cleared her throat, ignoring the other boys who began another round of beers. “I went to school for sports medicine.” 

“And it’s all because of me!” Kuroo proclaimed, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Warm breath tainted with beer blew on her face. 

She rolled her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night.” She looked back to her audience jabbing a thumb at her former captain, “Kuroo ended up throwing his back out like the old man he is, so I ended up helping him with his rehabilitation.” The smile froze for a second, contemplating the secondary reason why she had chosen this route. All along she had known that Bokuto had plans to become a professional athlete. Going pro had always been his sense of normal. Her chosen path had made sense at the time if she had wanted to follow besides him on his climb to success. Them against the world. Another broken promise.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Kuroo’s loud whine. “I’m not an old man!”

Immediately, she and Lev replied, “yes you are.” 

Kuroo clicked his tongue in dismissal, finishing his beer. He placed it down, smacking his lips. “This has been fun. Why don’t we head back to my place and watch a movie or something?” 

“Can’t, got an exam coming up,” Tsukishima replied immediately, as they all stood up to make their way out.

“I promised my sister I would help her move tomorrow. She just got a job offer so she’s moving to be closer to it.” Lev whined. All three boys turned to look at her. A moment of hesitation.

“Sure, I don’t have anything to do tomorrow.” With that, she hugged the other boys good-bye as they walked off together in the opposite direction. “I’m guessing you didn’t drive?” She glanced at the tall former captain beside her. At the shake of his head, she escorted him to her car, unlocking it for him to get in. 

“Wow this is small.” He groaned, his head accidentally hitting the roof as he clambered in.

“You’re just freakishly big, Kuroo.” She teased, starting it as she reversed. Soft music played as they let the silence wash over them. The only interruptions came from Kuroo as he navigated her to his complex. Soon enough, they were standing in his living room. She stepped in, not having been there since Kuroo had first moved in. “It looks much homier now,” she commented, slipping her coat off as she hung it up on the hook.

“Kuroo, where do you want this box?” (Name) called, stepping in through the doorway only to be greeted with a loud crashing noise followed by a loud curse.

“Bokuto! I said over there, not here!” Kuroo jabbed his hand in the direction of the kitchen, scolding her boyfriend. Kuroo rubbed his foot, having kicked the box on accident. The box laid on its side, photo frames spilling out. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you meant here!” Bokuto argued, crossing his arms and pouting. “I don’t wanna help anymore.” 

“I was gone for five minutes.” She sighed, lips slightly pursed as she placed the box of kitchen supplies down on the counter before bending down to collect the frames. “Babe, can you just go get another box from the truck?” Bokuto bent down, hugging her around the shoulders. He peppered kisses along the side of her face. Bokuto huffed, his warm breath bathing her neck and causing goosebumps to prickle through her skin.

“Do I have to?”

“Please babe? The sooner we finish here, the sooner we can head home and cuddle.” He sprang up, giving her one last peck on the cheek before disappearing down the stairs. (Name) picked up a sleek black frame, turning it over to reveal chubby smiling faces. “I didn’t know you still had this.” 

Kuroo crouched down besides her, looking at the photo. It was a photo of them on their first day of middle-school. She was in a yellow frilly sundress, her hair in pig-tails. Kuroo was beside her, boyish cheeks puffed in a wide smile. He wore a blue t-shirt with a photo of a dog on it and yellow shorts. He snorted. “Of course I do, you looked absolutely ridiculous in that.” 

“Those yellow shorts didn’t do you any favors either,” she rolled her eyes, fixing the box so it sat up properly as she tucked the frame back into it. They looked around the apartment. Brown boxes were stacked everywhere, and the only furniture available was a wooden table in the living room. “Where’s the rest of the furniture?”

“Ah right, I should help Bokuto bring that in.” 

“Well, that happens when you live somewhere for awhile,” he chuckled, hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. The other hand gently guided her to the living room by the small of her back. “Pick something, I’m gonna change and get you something more comfortable to wear.” She hummed in response, tapping the buttons on the remote to select some random wildlife documentary before a sound interrupted her. Turning her head, she looked at Kuroo as he slipped back into the room, wearing an old volleyball tshirt and shorts. “Here you are,” he tossed her a shirt and shorts. 

“Thank you,” she replied, heading to the restroom. As she undressed, she couldn’t help but look at her stomach in the light, examining it at all angles. She had worn a loose sweater earlier. She let out a soft sigh. She’d have to start investing in more loose-fitting clothes. A sudden wave of nausea hit her as she flung herself onto the toilet, dry-heaving.

“Hey, (Name)—” The door creaked open as Kuroo knocked on it, she hadn’t closed it all the way. He stopped, eyes widening at her as fear-stricken eyes met his face. “Are you…”  

“Yes.” 

Kuroo shook his head, gently closing the door as he stepped back out to give her some privacy. She scolded herself as she cleaned up after herself. She had been hiding the secret for a while now, she hadn’t planned on letting her friends know quite yet. (Name) didn’t even know what her relationship status was anymore ever since Bokuto had left to pursue his professional career. Stepping out, she tugged the red t-shirt down more. Kuroo was seated on the couch, fingers interlocked as he stared passively at the frozen TV screen. She slipped behind the couch, coming around to the other end as she took a seat at the very end. “How long?” 

A deep gulp. “Two months.”

“His?” Kuroo’s eyes left the screen, hazel eyes piercing hers. Biting her bottom lip, she could only nod. “Are you keeping it?” A moment of hesitation before she nodded. “Does he know?” She tore her face away, swallowing thickly as shame surged through her. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I didn’t want him to give up his career for me.” Her soft words broke the silence. Kuroo sighed, moving to sit closer to her. A warm hand pulled hers away from her lap. 

“You didn’t have to be alone through this.” Fingers tilted her chin back to his face. “You know I would’ve been there in a heartbeat.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden.” 

At this, he snorted. “(Name), you’re one of my closest and oldest friends. When have you ever been a burden?” A small smile made its way to her face. Gentle hands pulled her head into his chest, a hand lightly stroking her hair. “Even if you don’t want Bokuto involved here, I want to be. You can’t get rid of me that easily, especially now that I know.” He pressed his lips against her forehead, his warm breath fanning across her face. “Now, let’s watch this documentary!” He pulled back, a wide grin appearing on his face.

****

The next morning, she woke up in an unfamiliar place. In the corner of her eye sitting on Kuroo’s desk, she caught a glimpse of two familiar kids beaming back. Her nose violently twitched as the smell of oil invaded her senses. Launching herself onto her feet, she disappeared into the restroom heaving over the porcelain throne. Behind her, she heard curses and loud foot-steps. “(Name)?” Kuroo made his way behind her, pulling her hair back as she retched. ‘Just like old times,’ she thought, remembering all the times she, Bokuto, and Kuroo had gone to town in the clubs and bars during the earlier years of college. “Shh, it’s okay,” Kuroo whispered, rubbing her back as she groaned. Panting, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, grimacing. “Are you okay?” 

She waved him off. “Just morning sickness.” 

“Have you been to the doctor’s yet?” She shook her head. “Don’t be stupid, you’re already eight weeks in.” She flushed the toilet, feeling her nausea subside. Standing up, she washed her hands. Kuroo left as she examined her reflection. Her skin was pale, beads of sweat dotted her forehead. She smacked her lips, face twisting at the taste. Kuroo reappeared, handing her an unopened toothbrush. “Toothpaste is in the cupboard,” he said, leaving her to her own devices. 

Quickly freshening up, she was greeted with the sight of two plates of grilled fishes and rice as she stepped back out to the living room. Another wave of nausea crashed over her, but she swallowed back the acrid taste. “Kuroo,” she sent him a glum expression. “That looks delicious, but I’m afraid I don’t think I can eat it.”

He frowned, “It’s never too early to give your baby docosahexaenoic acid, (Name)!” 

She rolled her eyes, laughing as she made her way into his kitchen to make herself some natto and miso soup. “Of course you’d say that, Kuroo.” Turning back to the stove, she gestured for him to eat.  “But unfortunately the oily nature is making me a tad nauseous.” She tapped her nose.

“Ahh, that’s fair. I’m sorry, I’ll keep that in mind.” At this, she stopped slicing the tofu to give him an incredulous look.

“And why’s that?”

He smirked at her. “Well I did promise to help you, didn’t I?” 

She turned back to her cooking, cheeks flushing. “You don’t actually have to follow through with that,” she mumbled. “You were tipsy when you said it anyways.” 

“Oh hush,” he waved her off as he took another bite of the fish. “You took care of us all those years in high-school. You’ve taken care of me for most of our lives. This is the least I can do for you.” 

“Well aren’t you chivalrous,” she teased, fiddling with a knob on the stove. 

He swallowed his mouthful of rice, “now, do you have a doctor in mind already or do I need to go search for one?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make an appointment after this is finished,” she promised, shooting him a look. He stood up, collecting his empty dishes and placed them in the sink. 

Looking at her ingredients, he sent her a cheeky smile. “Mind making me some too?” He picked up the second meal, neatly arranging it into a bento before he placed those dishes into the sink as well.

“Only because you took the couch and made me breakfast,” she replied, bumping his hip with hers. Kuroo sent her a sly grin, before heading back to the table to pull out his laptop. As she finished up her meal, she and Kuroo caught up on life. Prior to this, they hadn’t seen each other in over a month. Her phone was filled with unopened messages and missed calls from everyone but the person she wanted the most. She placed the bowl of miso soup beside him, glancing at his laptop. “What are you up to?” 

He tilted the screen back in response, revealing the web-page. “Just doing some pregnancy research, my dear (Name).” 

She thumped him on the forehead before she took a seat across from him. “You really don’t have to do that,” she reminded him. “I was already fully prepared for raising this child alone if it came down to it.” 

He glanced up from the screen, raising his eyebrow at her. Kuroo cleared his throat. “That may be the case, but you don’t have to go through the pregnancy alone.” Leaning forward, he ruffled her hair causing her to scowl at him. “I’m your best friend, (Name). Just let me help!” 

“Sure, sure, whatever you say Kuroo.” They sat in silence. Kuroo continued doing his research while she contemplated the implications of Kuroo’s promise.

Taglist: @toaster-stick @thatartsybitch @brazil-hinata @sawamooora @lastminaddition @anejuuuuoy @abby-rutledge20 @babybluebisexual @badboysdoitbetter2 @liathachcapricious @cosmiclunas @wishingforanother (If your name is bolded, I had trouble tagging you!) 

Please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💞

[sinceileftyoublog]

30 (Technically 34) Albums We Loved That Happened To Come Out in 2020

So much has already been said and written about this cursed past year, but a few good things came out of it, including the music. Album-wise, like many before it and many to come, it was an embarrassment of riches. But even with so much time on our hands to devour new tunes, it was often old favorites, songs of comfort or familiarity that garnered the heaviest rotation. For many artists, too, it was a year ripe for revisiting or reissues of old material, looking at existing songs with fresh and new perspectives. Simply put, with so much to listen to, new and old, the prospect of ranking a finite number of albums felt not only daunting, but frankly a bit stupid. Maybe we were late to the game, but 2020 taught us that music should and can be appreciated in multiple contexts, not limited to but including when it first came out and when it was heard again and again, even if years later. The records below--listed in alphabetical order--happened to be released in some form in 2020, whether never-before-heard or heard before but in a different format. And the only thing I know is that we’ll be listening to them in 2021 and beyond.

Autechre - SIGN & PLUS (Warp)

The legendary British electronic music duo surprise released SIGN a mere month and a half after its announcement and then PLUS 12 days later. The former was a beatific collection of soundscapes that belied the band’s usual harsh noise, while PLUS embraced that noise right back, drawing you in with the clattering chaotic burbles of opener “DekDre Scap B” and lurching forward. -Jordan Mainzer

Against All Logic - 2017-2019 (Other People)

The perennially chill ambient house artist Nicolas Jaar had a busy 2020, as usual, releasing two albums under his name, Cenizas and Telas. But it was 2017-2019, the follow-up to the debut album from his Against All Logic moniker, that came first and throughout the year helped to illustrate Jaar’s penchant for combining inspired samples with club beats and tape hiss. Take the way the lovelorn vocals of “Fantasy” or soulful coos of “If Loving You Is Wrong” war skittering, scratchy percussion and cool arpeggios, respectively: Jaar is coming into his own as a masterful producer almost a decade after he released his first full-length. Oh, and bonus points for including none other than Lydia Lunch on a banger so blunt it would make Death Grips blush. - JM

Bartees Strange - Live Forever (Memory Music)

Like many, my introduction to Bartees Strange was through Say Goodbye to Pretty Boy, his EP of The National covers. Creativity and shifting perspectives shine through each song’s reimaging, like flipping the coarse, almost manic “Mr. November” into something softer, more meditative. It felt like a mere peek into what was to come on Live Forever. Bartees Strange is a world-builder. Each track on his debut unfolds and welcomes you to a wildly engaging tableau, a fully constructed vision. “Jealousy” opens with soft vocals and birdsong. “In a Cab” is the slick soundtrack to racing through a cityscape in the rain, seeing the blurred lights of the high-rises above as you pass by. “Kelly Rowland” warps wistful pop song feelings. “Flagey God” takes you into a dark, pulsing club while only a few songs later, “Fallen For You” wraps you in echoed vocals and romantic, raw acoustic guitar.

It’s an accomplishment to craft an album of individual songs that stand strongly on their own but still feel cohesive. 2020 wasn’t all bad. It gave us Live Forever, a declaration of an artist’s arrival. - Lauren Lederman

Charli XCX - how i’m feeling now (Atlantic)

Back in the spring, many of us wondered who would put out something great in 2020’s quarantine. It was hard to imagine that the intensity of a global pandemic would really allow for artists to embrace creativity. That thought carries the same eye-roll inducing feeling of “We’ll get some great punk music out of a Trump presidency,” but of course, Charli XCX delivered. Through live workshops with fans and longstanding collaborators, she delivered songs to dance alone to in your bubble. Charli embraces the unknown of the moment but clutches onto what’s familiar. Under the glitch-pop veneer of the album, she digs into the anxieties of not just this moment of time but of the bigger questions we all confront: trajectories of relationships with friends, romantic partners, ourselves. Album standouts “forever” and “i finally understand” embrace that feeling of both looking for control and accepting the lack of it. Charli is a master at balancing this. - LL

Christine and the Queens - La Vita Nuova (Because Music)

Named after a Latin text by Dante Alighieri about missing a woman who has died, Chris’ La Vita Nuova is not about mourning a death but instead about loneliness and isolation, post-relationship or otherwise. It doesn’t bang quite like her previous two albums, but it hits harder than ever.

Read our full review here.

Dogleg - Melee (Triple Crown)

Released on March 13th, right as the COVID-19 pandemic hit, Melee was supposed to be supported by three cancelled tours–SXSW, an opening slot for Microwave, and an opening slot for Joyce Manor–and an appearance at this year’s cancelled Pitchfork Music Festival. Listening to the songs on the record, you can only imagine how they translate: the jerky momentum of “Bueno”, build-up of “Prom Hell”, gang vocals of “Fox”, clear-vocal anthem of “Wrist”, and odd groove of “Ender”.

Read “Buckle Up, Motherfucker”, our interview with Dogleg.

Dua Lipa - Future Nostalgia & Dua Lipa/The Blessed Madonna: Club Future Nostalgia (Warner)

Where Dua Lipa’s much-anticipated second album Future Nostalgia succeeded was in its disco anthems and retro, club-ready beats, so who better to bring out the best of the record than The Blessed Madonna? The turntablist masterfully curates a mix of heavy hitters of the charts and the underground that not only offers an essential complement to Future Nostalgia but transcends it. Sending the tracks out to various producers and singers for features and then adding her own samples on top, she invites you to peel back the layers, enter a YouTube rabbit hole of sample searching as much as bopping along.

Read our full review here.

Emma Ruth Rundle & Thou - May Our Chambers Be Full (Sacred Bones)

Roadburn Festival has long been on my bucket list, and since the pandemic showed me how much live music can be taken away in a flash, when it’s safe again to travel and go to a festival, I may just pull the trigger and go--especially considering it’s the springboard for such fruitful and inspired collaborations as the one between Louisville singer-songwriter Emma Ruth Rundle and Baton Rouge sludge dwellers Thou. Rundle embraces the heavier opportunities on the follow-up to her incredible 2018 record On Dark Horses with the ever-flexible Thou backing her up vocally and instrumentally. Slow-burning opener “Killing Floor” offers a familiar introduction to fans of both--sort of what a Rundle/Thou song would sound like--before grunge chugger “Monolith” introduces huge, catchy riffs and “Out of Existence” a True Widow-esque dirge, newfound inspirations for both artists bringing the best out of each other. - JM

Fiona Apple - Fetch the Bolt Cutters (Epic)

What makes Fetch the Bolt Cutters stand out among Apple’s catalog and music in general is the clarity with which Apple seethes at those who have wronged her, whether ex-boyfriends or patriarchal oppressors, and looks to her relationships with other women for peace of mind.

Read our full review here.

HAIM - Women in Music Pt. III (Columbia)

For HAIM, the title Women in Music Pt. III is suggestive that, more than their previous two records, their third centers around the experiences of being an all-female band in a historically white cis male-dominated scene, at least one that wouldn’t call catchy riffs written by a man “simple” or call attention to the faces a man makes while playing. What it doesn’t let on to is how deeply personal the record is, how, by unabashedly embracing genres and styles of music that they love, HAIM have made far and away their best album. Co-produced by the usual suspects, Danielle Haim, Ariel Rechtshaid, and ex-Vampire Weekender Rostam Batmanglij, it’s instrumentally and aesthetically dynamic and diverse, consistently earnest without devolving into cheese.

Read our full review here.

Irreversible Entanglements - Who Sent You? (International Anthem)

I’ve been captivated by Irreversible Entanglements ever since I first saw them at Pitchfork Music Festival 2018. The radical poetry of Camae Ayewa (aka Moor Mother) is the perfect front for a ramshackle mix of Luke Stewart’s spidery bass, Tcheser Holmes’ weighty drums, and a horn section that concocts tones that range from hopeful to desperate. At their best, Who Sent You? is a shining example of celebratory Afrofuturism and metaphysics that makes the urgency of Ayewa’s more concrete and political words all the more necessary. “No Más”, composed by Panamanian-born trumpeter Aquiles Navarro, is a declaration against imperialist oppression, while the stunning title track flips the switch like a Kara Walker painting, as Ayewa’s the one interrogating the police officer terrorizing her community. “Who sent you?” she repeats, never spiraling, grabbing a hold of the power and never letting go. - JM

Jeff Parker - Suite for Max Brown (International Anthem/Nonesuch)

It’s Jeff Parker’s mom’s turn. After 2016′s The New Breed ended up being a tribute to the guitarist’s father, who passed away during the making of it, Parker decided to pay tribute to Maxine while she was still alive. Suite for Max Brown (Brown is his mother’s maiden name; Max is what people call her) is a genre-bending collection of tracks inspired by Parker’s DJing, juxtapositions of sequenced beats with improvisation that certainly sound like the brainchild of one individual. Indeed, Parker plays the majority of the instruments on it and engineered most of it at home or during his 2018 Headlands Center residency in Sausalito, CA; though all of the players and the vocalist (Jeff’s daughter Ruby Parker) on The New Breed show up, plus a couple trumpeters (piccolo player Rob Mazurek and Nate Walcott of Bright Eyes) and cellist Katinka Kleijn, Suite for Max Brown is a distinctly Jeff Parker record.

Read our preview of Jeff Parker & The New Breed’s set at Dorian’s last year.

Jeff Rosenstock - NO DREAM (Polyvinyl)

Jeff Rosenstock throws us right into the spinning, manic energy of NO DREAM, his latest release from a seemingly endless well of music that never lacks urgency. It’s a reminder that though it’s been a strange year, the issues Rosenstock tackles here aren’t new. There’s no interest in making you feel comfortable here. On the album’s title track, Rosenstock sings, lulling you into a false sense of security, “They were separating families carelessly / Under the guise of protecting you and me.” But reality sets in, and the hazy guitars spin out as he spits, “It’s not a dream!” and, “Fuck violence!”

My image of Jeff Rosenstock in the year 2020 is masked up with “Black Lives Matter” scrawled across the fabric of his mask in Sharpie, performing album highlight “Scram!” on Late Night with Seth Meyers as high energy as ever. It felt like watching someone send out a beacon, both a distress signal and a call to arms. - LL

Jessie Ware - What’s Your Pleasure? (PMR/Friends Keep Secrets/Interscope)

I am not someone who goes to clubs. I don’t “go out dancing,” preferring to let loose in the privacy of my own home or a trusted friend’s house party. But Jessie Ware’s What’s Your Pleasure? makes me think I could embrace a night out like that, once the world opens up again, of course. The album is filled with syncopated disco beats that feel fresh and classic all at once. The abundant horns and strings on “Step Into My Life” are decadent, like light bouncing off sequins in a dark room. Ware’s voice is slinky and velvety one moment, windswept like her album cover the next. It’s songs like “Save a Kiss” that embrace both, allowing her to show off her range. - LL

Laura Marling - Song for Our Daughter (Partisan)

With sparse production, mostly from her but with additions from Ethan Johns and Dom Monks, Marling foregoes the comparative maximalism of the Blake Mills-produced Semper Femina, her last proper full-length, and 2018′s LUMP collaboration. The songs aren’t simple, but they’re succinct, and every element, from Marling’s finger-picked guitars, the occasional slide guitar, and that unmistakably calm voice, sometimes alone and sometimes layered, fits. It’s her most universal set of songs yet, centering around the times when we’re apart from one another but reflecting on when we were together and when we might be together again, with no guarantees.

Read the rest of our review here.

Les Amazones d’Afrique - Amazones Power (Real World Records)

The groovy pan-African collective expands upon their debut Republique Amazone and then some with Amazones Power, a tour-de-force statement of female empowerment in the face of oppression against women throughout the African diaspora. Indeed, the album is more than just songs boldly decrying FGM, though those demands ring heavily. Instead, the group goes further, delving into gender power structures in marriage on “Queens” and selectively finding strength in tradition on “Dreams”. And this time, they include men to stand alongside with them. “Together we must stand / Together we must end this,” sings Guinean musician/dancer/artist Niariu on opener “Heavy” in solidarity with features Douranne (Boy) Fall and Magueye Diouk (Jon Grace) of Paris band Nyoko Bokbae. But perhaps it’s her kiss-off on “Smile” that hits hardest: “I shut up for no one.” - JM

Lianne La Havas - Lianne La Havas (Nonesuch)

The British singer-songwriter’s much anticipated follow-up to 2015′s Blood was better than I could have ever imagined. A song cycle about life cycles--of nature, of lives, of a relationship--inspired by an actual breakup, Lianne La Havas is a contemporary neo soul masterpiece. Overview opener “Bittersweet” is an instant earworm, La Havas’ coo-turned-belt filling the space between classic and increasingly emotive slabs of piano and guitar. Funky, lovestruck strut “Read My Mind” is the soundtrack for the unbridled confidence of finding new love. Yes, the doubts begin to sow on the fingerpicked melancholy of “Green Papaya” and “Can’t Fight”, and where the album goes from a simple narrative perspective may be predictable: They break up, they don’t get back together, La Havas enjoys her independence. But the depth of the arrangements and assuredness of La Havas’ singing is a product of an artist starting to really show us what she can do. And how many people can pull off a Radiohead cover like that? - JM

Lomelda - Hannah (Double Double Whammy)

What does it mean to title an album after yourself? Lomelda’s latest album is centered around discovering more about yourself while not always having the answers. Despite the lyrical content, the album is self-assured. Hannah Read’s voice feels as steady as ever as it navigates these twisting questions, like the way the world can shift after a kiss. She finds power in softness and reflection throughout the album, like when she explores the mantra-like words of “Wonder” or through a reminder to do no harm in “Hannah Sun”. In a year that allowed for perhaps more reflection than usual, Hannah makes space for the questions that arise out of figuring yourself out, of making sense of the messiness of it all, wrapped in warm guitar, balanced vocals, and steady drums. - LL

Moses Sumney - Grae (Jagjaguwar)

“Am I vital / If my heart is idle? / Am I doomed?” Moses Sumney famously sang on his stunning 2017 debut Aromanticism, an album that saw him developing his acceptance of being alone. grae, his two-part 2nd full-length, and his first since officially moving from L.A. to the Appalachian Mountains of Asheville, North Carolina, doubles down on themes of heartbreak, but instead of being sure in his seclusion, he embraces the unknown. The album teeters between interludes of platitudes about isolation and ruminations on failed human connection, and maximally arranged clutches of uncertainty. “When my mind’s clouded and filled with doubt / That’s when I feel the most alive,” Sumney coos over horns and piano on slinky soul song “Cut Me”; it’s an effective mantra for the album.

Read the rest of our review here.

Norah Jones - Pick Me Up Off The Floor (Blue Note)

At the time we previewed Norah Jones’ 7th studio album, she had only released a few tracks from it. Turns out the rest was just as powerful. From the blues stomp of “Flame Twin” to the rolling piano stylings of “Hurts to Be Alone”, Pick Me Up Off The Floor is an album full of jazzy orchestrations and soul and gospel-indebted arrangements, Jones’ silky, yearning voice tying together the simple, yet lush and deep instrumentation. And that other Tweedy feature, that closes the album? It’s a heartbreaking portrait of loneliness, one of many on a record that still manages to celebrate being alive all the while. - JM

Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher (Dead Oceans)

Phoebe Bridgers is a master of details. Her lyrics shine when they get specific. They range from the mundane to morbid: A superfan’s ghost-like wandering under a drugstore’s fluorescent lights, a skinhead likely buried under a blooming garden, reckoning with the you in “Moon Song”’s lines, “You are sick, and you’re married / And you might be dying.” Bridgers has always been able to set a scene meticulously, and Punisher arrived with 11 songs that expanded that skill, both lyrically and musically, with her dark humor intact and a fuller sound that includes her boygenuis collaborators’ harmonies. - LL

PJ Harvey - To Bring You My Love: The Demos & Dry - The Demos (Island)

Yes, revisiting Dry’s demos as a separate entity is still worthwhile. Harvey’s powerhouse vocal performance carries the acoustic strummed “Oh My Lover”, while the comparatively minimal arrangement of “Victory” highlights bluesy riffing, call-and-response harmonies, and layered guitar and vocals. The singles, the slinky and sharp “Dress” and propulsive anthem “Sheela-Na-Gig”, hold up to their ultimate studio versions, too. But it’s the To Bring You My Love material that provides novelty because it’s never been released and more so because it encompasses the greatest aesthetic contrast from the album. From the warbling hues and guitar lines of the title track to the tremolo haze of “Teclo” to the crisp snares of “Working With The Man”, the demos show a continuity and level of cohesiveness with the diversity of Dry and Rid of Me not shown on the studio version of Harvey’s more accessible commercial breakout. (Predictably, the album’s most well-known song, “Down by the Water”, is the closest to its eventual version.) “Long Snake Moan” is simultaneously more spacious and more noisy, its garage blues a total contrast to the lurking “I Think I’m A Mother” and swaying shanty “Send His Love To Me”. And “The Dancer” fully embraces its flamenco influences, hand claps and all.

Porridge Radio - Every Bad (Secretly Canadian)

Is there a better opening line than “I’m bored to death, let’s argue”? That kind of duality is found across all of Every Bad as it grapples with the frustrations and anxiety of trying to figure it all out, whatever that might mean for you. “Maybe I was born confused, but I’m not,” vocalist Dana Margolin repeats throughout the opening track, roping in listeners with the dizzying feeling of trying to make sense of yourself. The band’s guitar and synth sound coupled with Margolin’s howl makes for a dance party filled with dread, rendering Margolin’s already strong, repetitive lyrics even more spiraling. And yet, by the time we get to “Lilacs”, a glimmer of something else shines through as the music gets more manic and Margolin’s voice begins to soar: “I don’t want to get bitter / I want us to get better / I want us to be kinder / To ourselves and to each other.” - LL

Sault - Untitled (Rise) & Untitled (Black Is) (Forever Living Originals)

Yes, Black Is still pulls plenty of devastating punches. “Eternal Life”, a segue from the gospel boost of “US”, juxtaposes a deliberate drum beat with zooming synths, both ascending like a chorus of angels, as they sing, “I see sadness in your eye / ‘Cause I know you don’t wanna die,” presenting the oppression of Black life at the hands of white supremacy in inarguable terms. Ultimately, though, it’s the anthemic nature of the songs, resistant of platitudes, that shines through. “Nobody cared / This generation cares,” says Laurette Josiah on “This Generation”. Whether she’s talking about young people in general or the latest generation of young Black leaders, the sentiment is reflected on songs like “Black”, wherein over dynamic, sinewy instrumentation, the singers alternate between encouragement, support, and love of the self and others.

Read our full review here.

Shamir - Shamir (self-released)

Shamir’s voice is a bright beacon in a sea of conventional singers. Shamir captures the effervescence of pop music and weaves it together with elements of country, alt rock, and diary confessional lyrics all supported by the emotion and range of his vocals. There’s something for everyone across the album’s 11 shimmering tracks. Lead single and opener “On My Own” feels like a declaration of self and self-sufficiency, an anthem of a breakup song. The almost pop-punk bounce of “Pretty When I’m Sad”, paired perfectly with lines like the angst-ridden, “Let’s fuck around inside each other’s heads,” feels impossible to not bop along to. The twang of “Other Side” would put a country crooner to shame. That’s the power of Shamir. His voice has the ability to smoothly convey joy, resilience, and humor. He uses elements of several genres, not just the dance-pop of his debut, to build a unique album that gives listeners so much to sift through and, of course, dance to. - LL

Songhoy Blues - Optimisme (Fat Possum)

If Songhoy Blues’ second album Resistance lacked “the grit of its predecessor,” it’s clear from the hard rock stomp of the opening track of Malian band’s third album Optimisme that they rediscovered their mojo. More importantly, they couple this maximal brashness with tributes to those who make their world a better place: fighters for freedom, women, the young. It’s perhaps the first Songhoy Blues record to truly combine the celebratory nature of their desert blues with a balanced mixture of idealism and vigor. - JM

Spanish Love Songs - Brave Faces Everyone (Pure Noise)  

How can you find hope in hopelessness, or optimism when every news story points to cruelty? Is it naïve to keep searching for light in the dark? I don’t think so, and I don’t think Spanish Love Songs does, either. I’d like to think we both believe that’s not naivety, but power. It’s the embers you need to really ignite a flame. After all, this is the band with a song titled “Optimism (As a Radical Life Choice)”. It’s a band whose crunching guitars and earnestness insist that despite death and depression and addiction, the instinct to survive shines brightly above all. That relentless hope resurfaces across Brave Faces Everyone’s 10 tracks even as it works through the bleakness of everyday life. - LL

Tashi Dorji - Stateless (Drag City)

The magnum opus from the Asheville-based picker is a group of evocatively titled, disorderly songs about the desolate hellscape of America for outsiders and immigrants. Enigmatic in its nature, not exactly narrative, Stateless combines Dorji’s urgent strumming with moody motifs, captured beautifully in a studio setting for maximum emotional wallop. - JM

Touche Amore - Lament (Epitaph)

Is this what an almost uplifting Touche Amore album sounds like? It’s cathartic in a newer way for the band, especially after the beautifully rendered grief of Stage Four. Lament loses none of the band’s aggression or urgency. “Come Heroine” thrusts listeners into that urgency and introduces a moment of warmth, Jeremy Bolm’s vocals still rasping and insistent: “You brought me in / You took to me / And reversed the atrophy.” The bounciness of “Reminders” may seem close to optimism, but a sharper look at the lyrics uncovers more than blindly looking to the things that bring joy. “I’ll Be Your Host” is reflective, a few years removed from Touche Amore’s previous album and the immediacy of loss, self-aware and growing, but still raw. The album closer, “A Forecast”, takes a turn, a lone voice and piano acting as a confessional before giving way to thrashing guitars and the realization that growth and reckoning with trauma doesn’t mean minimizing it. It means learning to keep moving forward and to stop for help when you may need it. - LL

Waxahatchee - Saint Cloud (Merge)

The best album yet from Katie Crutchfield is inspired by positive personal change (getting sober, dealing with codependency issues, her blossoming love with singer-songwriter Kevin Morby) and reflections on family and friends. Named after the suburb of Orlando where her father’s from, Saint Cloud is a genre-hopping collection of stories and feelings that doesn’t necessarily follow any semblance of narrative. On opener “Oxbow” and country-tinged ditty “Can’t Do Much”, Crutchfield’s increasingly aware of the need to pick your side and your battles, whether in the relationship between two people or between the allure of the bottle and the next-day hangover. Some of the best songs on the album see her finding commonalities with others as a means towards self-love. Gentle strummer “The Eye” refers to her natural creative relationships with Morby and her sister Allison. “War” she wrote for herself and best friend, who is also sober, the title a metaphor for one’s fight to remain substance-free. “Witches” is an ode to her best friends, including Allison and Snail Mail’s Lindsey Jordan, all equally frustrated by the toxic nature of the music industry and the world at large, ultimately lifting each other up because they simply have each other.

Read our full review here.

[defilerwyrm]

For the ask meme: burning bright, anything about the parts at the table with the Nein. You write their banter so well!

FIC SPOILERS BELOW!

Burning Bright on AO3

The entire dinner scene hit me like a bolt of lightning while I was working on this fic. It started with Beau’s outburst, and then Veth’s willful denial and subsequent fit, and I built the two scenes around that.

Diving into particulars….

“Uhm,” he said, intelligently, but quickly recovered and flashed his friends a smile. “It is most impressive. Certainly a step up from a tiny hut.”

A direct reference to the name of the spell. Originally it was Leomund’s tiny hut. I have no clue why in 5e Wizards decided to 86 the attribution names on so many spells like Otiluke’s resilient sphere and Tasha’s hideous laughter. Things like that always made me curious about the (what I assume were) PCs the spells were named after. I had thought maybe it was because the characters who diegetically invented them were specific to one setting, but in that case I don’t know why Bigby’s hand is still Bigby’s but Evard’s black tentacles are no longer Evard’s. I don’t like it. As an aside, Widowgast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower is, mechanically speaking, Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion. Anyway. Moving on!

It was delectable that Caleb wanted to impress him.

This boy hungry and not just for soup

Flustered, Essek tried to fend them off, but it was Caleb that did him in. It was always Caleb. The human took a large roll from his own plate, broke it in half, and offered one of these parts to Essek, who tried his best not to choke.

“You need to keep your strength up, ja?” Caleb implored him quietly.

The steady hand that accepted was a point of pride because it very much wanted to quake. The Kryn weren’t bread people, but...did he have any idea what this gesture would mean in Rosohna? Any inkling at all?

This is another one of those places where I delight in playing to cultural differences. What I’d had in mind for what that gesture—breaking food into two pieces and offering half to someone—WOULD mean in Rosohna was a bit nebulous, as I like to keep the reader guessing a bit and let their imagination fill in the blanks; but my rough idea was that it’s a courting gesture that signifies “I can and will provide for you, even if it means less for me.” An expression of selfless caregiving and an offer of partnership. Not wholly unlike a bird bringing food to a prospective mate.

And actually it’s a little bit funny coming from Caleb, who has fuck-all to his name but his name, when Essek is a rich bitch who answers directly to the Bright Queen.

Not that he was about to say it out loud, but he was a quick convert to this whole bread thing. To say that it won him over would be an understatement. That seemed to be a recurring theme here.

I imagine if I’d grown up never really eating bread and was introduced to it in adulthood I’d be like “Where have you BEEN all my life?!” But also: the bread is friendship, the bread is the Mighty Nein, the bread is communion in the spirit of sharing rather than politics and appearances and power plays—things he thought he was fine without until they were foisted upon him.

Somewhere in the course of the multiple conversations going on at one time, Jester got an Idea, as she was prone to doing. He became increasingly aware of her talking about kissing, of all things, and this culminated in her shouting above the din, cheeks flushed purple though he hadn’t seen her touch any wine: “I have an idea you guys! Why don’t we all go around and say how many people we’ve kissed?”

Jester is the most wonderfully convenient deus ex machina if you ever need to insert an awkward or embarrassing conversation among the Mighty Nein, because this is exactly the sort of shit she would do.

Jester leaped up and slammed her hands onto the table. “Caduceus you’ve never been kissed?! That’s so sad!”

The firbolg was unfazed. He merely shrugged and said, “It hasn’t come up and I haven’t gone looking. Not something I’ve ever thought about, really.”

Jester’s tail lashed back and forth behind her like an overstimulated cat. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Fjord went a bit wild-eyed at this. Caduceus smiled gently and said, “No thank you.”

Three things about this part:

1) Jester’s tail doesn’t get NEARLY enough mention in fic! If I’m playing (or writing) a character with a tail you can be damn sure you’re gonna know what it’s doing! Makes me wanna play a tabaxi tbqh.

2) Cad’s “No thank you” is the sum total of his sexuality, lol. Jester was raised in a pretty highly sexualized setting, didn’t really get out much before she fled Nicodranas, and can be pretty naïve, so she doesn’t really get the whole aroace thing; but it never crosses Cad’s mind that this would be “abnormal“ or ”sad” in any way—it causes him no distress, as it shouldn’t. This is yet another “Same planet, different worlds” moment.

3) Fjord is physically restraining himself from yelling “JESTER WHAT THE FUCK” lmao

Veth kept picking at it. “So you’re um. You know. Into the fellas?”

Beau snorted. “I could’a told you that months ago.”

“Yeah you could’a!” Veth pouted with a self-conscious curl to her shoulders.

I saw a comment on Tiktok that said Veth was being borderline homophobic, but that wasn’t my intent! It’s just that she inherited a certain blind spot for male queerness from her player, and as hard as she’d been trying to encourage Caleb to hook back up with his female ex, it never occurred to her that he had a male ex, too—and given that they’ve been so close for so long, she’s feeling pretty self-conscious about the fact that she never figured out that Caleb is bisexual in all that time, as well as kind of upset that no one—Caleb especially—told her. She’s having a moment of “Why didn’t I know this? Did you think it was going to change things between us? Did I make you feel unsafe?” And also a little bit of “Okay well, now I have to get him to hook up with TWO people AT ONCE because my boy deserves threesomes 😤”

Jester went goggle-eyed at him. “You’ve only been with one person?” she exclaimed. “But you’re like a hundred years old! And very handsome. I would have thought you’d get like, all the ladies.”

Ladies. Right.

Veth might not be the only one with a certain blind spot.

Beau gave her a funny look, snorting. “I dunno, he seems like the kinda guy who turns down those offers left and right.”

..…But Beau’s got his number, for more than one reason. She’s got super gaydar, for one, and has him pegged as the type who’s very choosy about his partners (also mind you, this was before demi!Essek was canonized by WoG, so I was still rolling with my hc that Essek got around when he felt like it).

The uproar was instantaneous. Everyone—almost everyone—started talking or shouting at once. Beau’s voice rang out among the din with, “HOLY SHIT ESSEK FUCKS.” Strangely pleased with himself, he downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and spent the next few minutes fending off increasingly prying, personal questions until the Nein grew bored with his lack of answers and someone changed the subject.

There it is, the line that spawned two entire scenes!

He was not a war mage, but he was experienced and wily, and he was damned good at what he did, and as long as there was breath left in his body, the Mighty Nein would not fall here.

Joke’s on me, motherfucker literally has the War Caster feat -_-

But like in my defense, that’s just what it’s called in the book. The feat just means that you have either the training or experience to cast well during a fight, which I see as not necessarily the same thing as a war mage, which was my way of saying an arcane caster who is a soldier.

Veth stared at her blankly as if willing herself not to understand. “Caleb? With who?”

She breathed steadily. “...Essek. Caleb and Essek.”

Beside her, Jester squealed and brought her fists to her face.

Veth was less enthused. “WHAT.”

Beau’s mental commentary here is dead on. Veth still doesn’t really trust Essek at this point and has been pretty vocal about that…despite being the one to declare him part of the Mighty Nein? Eh, she’s allowed to have complicated feelings on the guy, all things considered. But I find it kind of comical and very Veth (and very Sam) for her to be all full of zest for trying to get Caleb back together with the frigging Volstrucker who is actively working for his abuser and worst enemy but balk at him hooking up with Essek.

Jester “explained” in a delighted yell: “Caleb and Essek are gonna fuuuuuuck!”

I don’t know, is this too unsubtle to call foreshadowing? The line flowed naturally in the dialogue, but it’s also letting the reader know exactly what they’re in for next, lol.

“...He’s going to break that little elf twink, you know,” Veth said, sounding distant. Seemed she was having some difficulty processing. Not too surprising, considering how adamant she was about wanting their wizard to hook back up with his old flame, the fucking Volstrucker. “We’ve all seen his dick.”

This was 100% taken from Sam’s little throwaway line “It’s above-average” but it turned out to serve two purposes other than reminding the reader that all of these people have seen Caleb naked:

1) It’s yet another thing Veth thinks she understands about him but doesn’t. Caleb’s a top like Dalmatians are purple and if you disagree then I respect your right to be incorrect ;)

2) That said, it is, in fact, foreshadowing for the sequel, in which Essek experiences a great deal of frustration. (I haven’t touched the damn thing in weeks, feels like; I’ve been too busy with work, being exhausted from work, and being in a tizzy about my upcoming surgery.)

Fjord blurted out, “I’ll join you.”

Poor Fjord has had such an uncomfortable night!

Hoo boy that was a lot. Thanks for the ask, this was really fun!! And sorry it took so long; I work Saturday nights and things got really busy for a bit there.

[loved-lefthaunted]

What are your thoughts on all the evermore songs?

oh my god. this is such a hard question for me so brace yourself. it’s taken me nearly 2 months to write this out and i still don’t think i’ve managed to encapsulate all my thoughts.

So, I have very strong feelings about evermore. I immediately loved it three times as much as folklore, for a variety of reasons. I can do a song-by-song breakdown alongside my general thoughts of the album below:

Firstly, I want to preface this by saying that I do not disregard the impact that folklore had on me prior to evermore’s release. I am not oblivious to the fact that folklore likely primed me for the sound that evermore had and that my mind was set up for a similar sounding album so was willing to receive it with more open ears.

That being said, I think that evermore is the superior album. The overall emotional range and sonic variety of the album is wider and more thought out. The different songs provide a more well-rounded listen in my opinion and give me much more emotional investment than folklore. Each individual song feels strong and there are far more songs with single potential than folklore.

So let’s get down to it:

1. Willow - iconic. The big sister that cardigan deserves. The song that I wish the Lover album had been. A song so fully devoted in such a soft and sweeet way without feeling sickly. A mature way to dedicate a song to the person that you can’t live without but in a way that doesn’t throw pink confetti at your face and tell single people to fuck off. TAKE MY HAND? OKAY TAYLOR. WRECK MY PLANS? FOR SURE BABES. THAT’S MY MAN? 100% FEEL U GAL.

2. Champagne Problems - LOOK. I AM CLAIMING THE NAME SAMPAGNE PROBLEMS FOR ALL FUTURE CONTENT. I want to be proposed to just so that I can reject them and then get wildly drunk on overpriced alcohol. It’s heartwrenching in a way that Taylor hasn’t been since the likes of Treacherous. It doesn’t throw sadness at you, overwhelm you with tears. It hides heartbreak within a soft piano riff and gorgeous imagery.

3. Gold Rush - a sapphic daydream. i cannot believe this is real. The return of a heart-thumping drumbeat and the most lovely, pure song that just describes the infatuation with someone beautiful and how you can wonder about them and be so happy about them and jealous of them all at once.

4. ‘Tis The Damn Season - this christmas song makes me wish i had a boy next door in my hometown that i could randomly sleep with. why don’t i have a fluffy hallmark holiday film based upon this premise? why isn’t there a christmas music video to show me how their interactions work during the holidays and how it differs so vastly with their normal lives? Why can i feel both the distance and the closeness that these two people feel? the cutest dedication to a very un-cute casual relationship. a bittersweet shout out to the people who make us happy for a few fleeting moments spread out over the long haul.

5. Tolerate It - i have very VERY strong feelings about this one. it feels like it both encapsulates romantic and non-romantic love so perfectly. It pairs perfectly with the likes of Closure (more on that later). We all deserve to be celebrated. In a world of people settling for less than they deserve, we should reach for those who deserve us. We are worth it. Find someone who will show us how worthy we are. It’s aching and slow and painful and just....everything. Just because someone has always been there doesn’t mean they deserve to continue to be there. Tolerating you is not the same as deserving your loyalty.

6. No Body, No Crime (feat. HIAM) - IT TOOK 14 YEARS BUT TAYLOR FINALLY MURDERED A MAN IN COLD BLOOD AND I AM HERE FOR IT. MEN ARE TRASH, LADIES. REMEMBER THIS. ENGRAVE IT INTO YOUR TOMBSTONES. TATTOO IT ON YOUR FOREHEADS. MEN AS AN ENTITY DO NOT DESERVE US. MURDER THEM. A YEEHAW DREAM. (I have no strong feelings about HIAM but the existence of Este’s name is a blessing in itself, their backing vocals are a lovely addition and a true testament to their friendship as we know how protective Taylor is about mixing business and friendship through collaborations)

7. Happiness - this song is HURTFUL. a song about growth, a song about finding yourself amidst the loss of a partner, a friend, a family member. a loss so deep that it will hurt you for years to come and take a piece of you away forever. but a loss that you have to be resigned to and grow from and let go of. the slow build of the backing is something i haven’t heard since Holy Ground. Both songs talk about loss and moving on in such starkly different ways but still encompass the feeling of reminiscing on something good and pure and perfect whilst battling the knowledge that it’s over and trying to be happy for the person now that they’re gone.

8. Dorothea - the sweetest girl in the neighbourhood. a childhood friend that we all miss having. a person we watched grow into something massive and successful and we’re so genuinely happy for them. the song encompasses the feeling of a distanced joy. a joy that has nothing to do with you, everything to do with this person that you’d be happy to accept again with open arms but will be equally as happy to watch succeed from a distance. a bouncy backing track and lovely vocalisations that really build a sense of a warm hug and the feeling of soft morning sun on your skin.

9. Coney Island (feat. The National) - alright. so i’m sat on a bench in the cold, wrapped up in a winter coat and a hat and gloves and a massive scarf that covers half of my face. i can see the air when i breathe out. there’s an empty ferris wheel at a deserted fairground and i can remember when it was alive and bustling and when i was surrounded by all of the people closest to me on a late summer’s day. and i miss them. i yearn for that to be back. the way we yearn for a time before covid, before masks and elbow touches and sanitising everything. a time when you could sit around a table with your friends and welcome someone with a hug and visit your family for the holidays. a time of joy that was so overlooked until it was gone. The presence of The National is also a breathtaking addition and truly deserved after Aaron’s input on both folklore and evermore. I’m glad they saved it for this song.

10. Ivy - this song just radiates GREEN. Am I in a forest? Am I just in a greenhouse, watering the plants? The guitar/banjo sounds make me so horrifically nostalgic for Speak Now era. The male backing vocals remind me that Taylor has evolved so far from the girl we used to exclusively listen in conjunction with Caitlin Bird and Liz Huett. 

11. Cowboy Like Me - one of the only songs I don’t really care about? it’s not bad, it’s just not great. it’s yeehaw without the accompanying passion. It’s the end of a sad, sad wild west movie. It’s a backing track in a scene of a TV show when someone is going on a journey alone to find themselves. But it’s nothing special.

12. Long Story Short - DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME. THE BEST SONG ON THIS ALBUM IN MY OPINION. THE STRONGEST BEAT, THE NOSTALGIA OF 1989, THE LYRICS OF RED, THE FUCKS GIVEN OF REPUTATION. THE PERFECT IMMERSIVE TAYLOR EXPERIENCE. TRULY A 10/10 ENTITY. I WILL HAVE THIS PLAYING AT MY GRADUATION. I SURVIVED.

13. Marjorie - the loss of a grandparent is always a lot. i’ve lost 2 due to Covid and it’s cut me deeper than I ever imagined. Marjorie is the 50′s sepia toned daydream that sends you flying back to being a child and being taught life’s most important lessons when you were far too young to understand them from someone so much wiser than you. It feels like I’m being taught to live again. Another build up backing track, but in such an uplifting way? A way that makes you think of the sun slowly coming out of the clouds. Of the end of a rainstorm and the start of a new day. Optimism and innocence. Peace and hope.

14. Closure - right, the return of sadness. The use of the clatter and discord in the background. The death of a Big Machine (subtle and perfectly done). She’s doing better. We all are. It reminds me of the friends I’ve lost and crave to have back but know I’m better off without. We have to let go of this. Close the chapter. You don’t even need the epilogue, it’s over. The production makes me so uncomfortable and it’s SO NECESSARY because lack of closure is UNSETTLING. It’s horrifying. It’s devastating. But the lyrics and the power of the song show how strong you can be and how important it is to push through the discomfort and continue to live.

15. Evermore (feat. Bon Iver) - the titular song. The return of Bon Iver’s vocals and the lone piano background are truly something to be commemorated for years to come. Although it lacks the painstaking hurt of Exile, this is one of her most simple pieces of artistry on this album and it’s BEAUTIFUL. Something that feels bare and raw. A song that cuts deep and shows us the true core of what she’s currently feeling right now: that although pain might feel forever, it’s not. all pain, much like joy, is fleeting and we have to feel it but we need to remember that it’s only a piece of our experience and place it into context. The song veers on self-pity and wallowing in hopelessness until the latter third, where suddenly hope rises out of the ashes alongside a slightly padded out production from Bon Iver’s vocals. A strong end to the album. This song sets us up for future albums on a note of optimism. It’s a new dawn. 

[nutty1005]

Xiao Zhan: It’s Your Turn

Translator’s Note: This article comes from VogueMe Magazine 2020 Feb Issue.

Currently, the trend in the entertainment business is to get famous overnight, the statistics dictate everything – a drama, a variety show, a song… all of which could give birth to a super idol, fame, commercial value and opportunities that come along with it. In 2019, the drama “The Untamed”, adapted from an internet novel, became this window of opportunity. This is the story of a young man who received the opportunity. And like other idols created by their era, his fanbase grew immensely, radiating throughout the youth, his name etched in time. All of these simply points to this – it’s now Xiao Zhan’s turn.

1

The summer of 2015, Xiao Zhan had not yet realized that he was going to job switch from the design firm opened by his teacher. The teacher did not feel so as well – as Xiao Zhan left for the talent search variety show, he told him, “Go play, come back to work once you’ve been eliminated.”

The show was called “X-FIRE”, and positions itself as a large scaled youth talent development inspirational show. During broadcast, the description says “16 secretly trained youths painstakingly selected from a few thousand 16-24 year olds”. At that time, Xiao Zhan was 23 years old – nearing the upper age limit.

Xiao Zhan just wanted to “play around a bit”. He felt that he would be just touring for a round, and he would be back after a week. As the former class Cultural Committee Member in his university, Xiao Zhan loved singing, won quite a few inter-school cultural activities awards, but never trained in dance-singing. Xiao Zhan, who graduated in graphic design, learnt drawing since young, but never thought of becoming an artist, because “it is hard to survive as an artist, you still need to earn a living”. He was willing to lead a simple life and go to work everyday, with a direct and clear life plan – as a graphic designer, do his work well, then open his own firm.

The summer 4 years later, the name “Xiao Zhan” meant a lot of different things – a member of a pop group, the lead actor of one of the most popular drama, the owner of a Weibo account with more than 22million followers, or as what Chinese entertainment business puts it – a “top traffic”. The topics and imagery surrounding him includes – Xiao Zhan’s looks, Xiao Zhan’s design talent, Xiao Zhan’s professionalism, Xiao Zhan’s role as Wei Wuxian…

And like the other idols who broke out in this era, he has his own set of records – moderators of Bilibili (a video hosting site in China) nagged that his drama fans uploaded so much of his videos that they “almost see him 800 times a day”, Xiao Zhan was jokingly proclaimed as “The Man who caused the Bloodbath of Bilibili”; he became the cover person of a magazine, and the two mobile sales platform app broke down consecutively on the day of the sales; his popularity in 2020 only got higher – on 9 Jan, according to Tian Mao statistics (TN: Taobao eShopping Mall), the Portrait magazine, where he was the cover person, sold out 100,000 copies in 3 seconds, overall sales exceeding 13million Chinese yuan, a poster was spread all around the internet with the accompanying text “a fandom that brought paper media back from its grave” – this is the Xiao Zhan statistics.

But different from the breakout idols, Xiao Zhan did not encounter major controversies (TN: This was published early Feb), and his career did not seem to go through much fluctuations. He never thought that he would be at this point – “Sometimes you’re not ready, but life has already pushed you to ahead. What you can do is to quickly keep up with the pace.” He is now at the stage where any of his actions are “studied under a magnifying glass”, but he feels that his stress levels are not as high as his previous few years, “the past few years, I had the drive but nowhere to use that, now I know how to work hard.”

2

During the initial auditions, Xiao Zhan still continued to work as per normal, go onstage – sing – leave, which was quite fun. After the selection down to 32 persons, he did not think much of it, and left his work to go to Beijing to practice the dance for the variety show. After the selection down to 16 persons, he practiced everything – dancing, vocals and flexibility training.

He did not think much of what would happen later. The winter in Beijing was especially cold, after the show recording, it would be around 3am or 4am, and there would be fans waiting for him outside of the studio – Xiao Zhan felt quite sorry for them, “All are young girls, it’s so cold and so dark.” He felt surreal having fans. When the 16 of them went to Zhejiang TV “Running 2016” New Year Eve performance, he saw the stage and felt that it was especially big and he was especially happy, and kept making sure he remembered the moves so as not to make any mistakes. After the final battle, Xiao Zhan’s team lost, but he and a few of his teammates were rescued by fan votes.

In 2016, Xiao Zhan debuted as part of X-Nine. During the signing of the contract, Xiao Zhan finally realized that he was going to make a career switch. “When you look at it now, 23 year old is also still a child, but no one took me as a child then.” – Xiao Zhan was the oldest in the group, he made his own decision to sign the contract, he thought that if it did not work out, he could go back to work, there was no need for him to paint himself into a corner.

3½ years after his debut, Artist Xiao Zhan still had to explain to interviewers his obsession with going to work. That day, he had a pimple on the left side of his face, and the makeup artist was applying essences on his face. The makeup room was simply a curtained area in the basement of the Art Gallery, full of passing staff, the editor was discussing the shooting schedule with his manager, the stylist was here delivering clothes, and he sat there with his eyes closed, allowing others to apply whatever it is on his face.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes are long, and also wide, he is very fair and his side profile is graceful and beautiful. With his looks, one would imagine that his personality would be cooler, more introvert, with mild melancholy, like those prince-like male leads in romantic dramas. But his personality does not really match his looks – he is serious, disciplined, he does not talk much initially, but overall he is a relaxed person, and quite funny occasionally.

“A lot of art students do not want to go to work,” the interviewer said. Xiao Zhan learnt drawing since young, some of his happiest moments in his childhood would be to win drawing awards or to have his works praised by his teachers, other unimportant happy moments includes had a good lunch, went to an amusement park, or had a liking for a girl in high school.

“They never went through the society school of hard knocks,” Xiao Zhan said. He described himself as someone who went through “quite a fair bit of knocking”. Since young, his father thought him to be independent, taught him budgeting, and told him stories about Bill Gates’s children… “I wanted to say, god, you’re not Bill Gates.” Despite all these, Xiao Zhan stopped using his parents’ money ever since his university graduation.

Xiao Zhan not only learnt drawing, he also learnt violin, go and Chinese calligraphy… pushed him to study in “National Key” middle school, “National Key” high school (TN: National Key refers to the top range of schools in China). He was an obedient child, but as a standard art student, Xiao Zhan was better in humanity subjects, and his math was not good, hence all the while he had always been the mid-bottom of the pack, which worried his family of 3 quite a fair bit.

Studying graphic design in university, Xiao Zhan felt that his university life was quite comfortable – everyday before class he would adjust himself a bit, although in the end it seemed like it did not work well after all, but at least his results were decent. Xiao Zhan emphasized that he was “definitely not the school hottie”. He was a good student. After he had learnt what the teachers taught, he started a studio on the side. The design studio would take on poster and logo design work; the photography studio only have 3 persons, Xiao Zhan did the photo taking, the other 2 did lighting. Before graduation he went to intern in a design firm, hence it was easy for him to find a job. Within a year of working, his monthly salary was around 4,000 to 5,000 Chinese Yuan, which would quite alright for Chongqing at that point in time.

Being part of a boy group releasing albums, shooting web dramas. The way to do things right was quite different from his previous job – his characterization in the group is a warm guy, although Xiao Zhan did not like characterization, he seriously fulfilled his role, and he was obedient. When someone in the variety show suggested that he lose some weight, he replied “I’m quite thin already I still have to lose weight”. As a commoner, Xiao Zhan was 183cm and 150lbs, his mother would always say he was too thin, and he felt so himself as well. That person showed him the film, “the camera lens is a really scary thing, I literally looked like a ball”. It was not easy for Xiao Zhan to lose weight, so he did it brutally. He was so hungry that he dreamed that he was eating. Xiao Zhan is now 127lbs, but this was not his thinnest.

“How was it like after debut?” “Unoccupied.” (TN: Xiao Zhan used the Chinese phrase “picking at his feet” to describe the state of emptiness.) Xiao Zhan’s words were paced and gentle, most were caught unawares by the sudden switch to casual humor, he might not be laughing, after others laughed he would continue his conversation seriously.

After his debut, he felt that he was freer than the times when he was still an intern. But he did not allow himself to stay free, he took vocal and dancing lessons, making sure that he could do sing-dancing to the best of his abilities. But he was still a bit lost – when he was still a designer, his future was clear and straight, but after his debut he had no clue where his future led to.

3

“I could count the number of dramas I’ve acted in with my fingers,” Xiao Zhan said. After which, he started counting them – “Battle through the Heavens”, “The Wolf”, “Oh! My Emperor”, “The Untamed”, “Joy of Life”, “Jade Dynasty”, “The Oath of Love”… the earliest work “Super Star Academy” was not counted – It was shot with his boy group, he was still fat, and he had no clue what he was doing.

Acting was his own idea. When he started auditioning he had not even attended any performance classes, he saw the director, took a piece of paper that indicated the scene and lines, and just went for it. Xiao Zhan did not feel that it was awkward, it was something he wanted to do, so he would do so without any inhibitions, and grasp every opportunity to do so. Singing was something that he always liked, his first single after debut was a song voted by his fans. With the stage and his fans, with attention, he would always want to do it better. Acting was something totally foreign to him.

The first turning point was “The Wolf”. When auditioning, within 2 hours, Xiao Zhan had tried many roles – the bounty hunter who was threatening someone, the prince whose brother was about to be executed… Xiao Zhan won the role of the bounty hunter – the 4th character on the character roll, Ji Chong. During the pre-shoot training he was still acting in “Battle through the Heavens”, daytime he would be shooting, nighttime he would be having performance classes. He did not feel it was tough then, as long as he had time to sleep. “Work is something I am willing to do, I will only feel very motivated, tomorrow must be done better than today.” Xiao Zhan liked Wei Wuxian, felt that he was vivid. When acting, during the first month he would be second guessing himself everyday, is the portrayal accurate? Would the audience accept it? Xiao Zhan checked with the director everyday. After a month, he stopped asking, he felt that he was Wei Wuxian. Dramas adapted from web novels are rarely positively received, his hopes for Wei Wuxian was that “I hope people would not dislike the character because of my acting”.

The summer of 2019, the drama aired, and the real turning point arrived.

Billions of fans, frequent trending topics on Weibo, appearing on multiple magazine covers and even causing the sales platform app to crash…

He is one of the few artists in Weibo that sets his account as “only posts in the past 6 months are viewable”, but it did not affect his popularity. His interaction with his fans are witty, the statistics are more than enough to attract attention. Last year on the Chinese Valentine’s Day (TN: 7th of the 7th Lunar month), he posted a photo informing his fans that he had put on weight, his pants folded up, legs in the swimming pool. One of his fans replied, “Fine, good to know that your leg hairs are doing fine.” This reply was boosted to the top with 190,000 likes.

“After watching ‘The Untamed’ and ‘Joy of Life’ and then meeting you, I feel like you are very similar to your performance method, calm. You are like an AI, whatever you do you’re especially precise.” “You’re highly professional.” The interviewer concluded.

At the start of the conversation, Xiao Zhan just finished an exterior photo shoot, we were both seated, leaning forward and warming hands above the radiator. He said, “Artist is just a job, I don’t like artists to place themselves on a pedestal, just like today you are the reporter who is interviewing me, today I am someone being interviewed. Cooperation, is just so that we can complete our jobs, coming in for the photo shoot is my job today, every single staff is also executing this job, it’s just the role is different.” Because he went through the society “school of hard knocks”, he respected and understood the truth behind teamwork.

As someone who once had to face clients, he knew how it felt as someone at the receiving end of endless unreasonable requests, and therefore he did not want to be someone like that. His standards for work is consistent – high efficiency, good results, everyone is happy, no one has to serve another person. Also “once I am done I will knock off, after I knock off no one should come find me, let me be alone.”

“Everyone works to fulfill their needs, they have entertainment after they knock off, they have freedom and privacy. As a public figure, artist, the product is yourself, the works are also yourself. You have to output materials, contribute works, and then gain the opportunity to grow, for higher social status, value and better lifestyle. For some people, besides their career, they also included their dreams,” the interviewer said.

“The understanding is very thorough. You win some, you lose some, after becoming a public figure it meant that there are multiple pairs of eyes staring at you, anything you do would be judged. Whether it is positive or misguided. Truth and falsehoods, isn’t this circle just like this? Whether the rumors or the gossip is true or false, who knows?” Xiao Zhan said.

4

On 5 Jan 2020, Xiao Zhan was working in a sculpture garden in Shanghai Songjiang, shooting a series of photographs to be the cover of VogueMe. It was cold, the gallery’s doors were open, and the wind blew from the first floor to the basement. Everyone was wearing winter jackets.

In the morning, beside the metal sculpture on the first floor, Xiao Zhan and model Chen Yu faced the camera separately. As the shutters rolled, they did not exchange glances or touch each other. As the photographer requested the model to sit on the ground, Xiao Zhan said his only sentence to her, “Careful your head.” and used his hands to shield her head from the protruding portion of the sculpture.

That day’s Weibo opening advertisement was also Xiao Zhan. As per the photographer’s request, he tilted his head up slightly and gave a cold gaze, or side glancing a faraway place, but also at the same time, he was smiling sweetly on mobile phone screens, promoting a series of instant food products.

In the afternoon, the team went to the exterior, to a concrete sculpture beside the gallery entrance, where he and the model stood in front of, facing the camera. The arm was on the model’s shoulders, and the two of them looked at the camera – he was even thinner than the model. In yet another set, the staff erected a ladder to one of the rooftop grass patches on the gallery buildings. An ice cold rock slab was selected, which the assistant padded using a jacket, and tested the light levels. After which, it was Xiao Zhan’s turn. He was wearing a red jacket with blue shirt, wearing a baseball cap, lying on his side on the rock slab, supporting his head with his arm. In between shoots, the assisted would hand him a long wool top, with deep blue diamond checks, quite thin. The top was flipped over, he slipped his hands into the sleeves to protect the front of his body, his assistant handed over another water bottle that contained warm mineral water to warm his hands. Xiao Zhan basically did not speak, he placed the bottle on his neck to gain some warmth.

An artist’s job, the profession included losing weight, staying hungry, freezing and staying up overnight, wearing winter clothes in summer is the norm, not drinking water prior to any shoots to prevent water bloating on screen… people who do those well may become famous, if they look good or are lucky they may become even more famous. Now Xiao Zhan has an opportunity, and like his previous job, he chose to be down-to-earth and do it well.

In the evening, the green screens were setup in basement 2 of the gallery. 17:44, Xiao Zhan was in position, his manager reminded the stylist to take note of the clothes’ proportion – “The sweater is too long.” Hence, the sweater was folded up. After the camera assistant brought down the Apple machines, the cameraman adjusted his machines, and started shooting the video. Quite a few scenes were done in one take, in the middle there was a break, the manager and the camera crew were discussing camera positions. This was the 10th hour of the shoot, Xiao Zhan sat behind the table, laid his head on a prop gift box and waited quietly – we could not see if he was tired or not.

The shoot ended, and the sky was already dark. Xiao Zhan has not yet knocked off. The media had ended their work, the manager was darting around, arranging for Xiao Zhan to change out and get on his car, to rush to his rehearsal that night – they were already behind schedule. Both teams bid their farewell, Xiao Zhan warm and gentle, still unclear whether he was tired. After less than an hour’s journey, he would need to go onstage to sing, and thereafter, his work would be to complete the costume testing of 20 different sets of clothes.

The Initial Cold

The time set for the shoot was 9am, Xiao Zhan arrived at the rural set at 8.30am. His overnight flight arrived only the day before, meeting Xiao Zhan on the cold morning of a deep southern winter, his spirits looked great, his face having the same kindness as usual. The endless job schedules taught him how to conserve his energy – no casual conversation, not even to his staff; take every opportunity to eat or rest; absolutely no procrastination, ensure efficiency, do his best to accommodate and complete every job. He is a highly disciplined and professional artist.

In this shoot, the warm, gentle smiles have been replaced by cold, sharp glares, the metal and concrete sculptures gave him a few minutes of inner emotions and narrative, his scenes with the model was almost like he was acting in the set of “Last Year at Marienbad”. Xiao Zhan displayed emotions and charm very different from usual self – this is the power of an actor. The darker filters and monochrome imagery restored the caution that the youth of his age would have, it was the concealed feelings of a sunny boy. With such an idol, not only he can warm your hearts, there are still much to expect from him.

[shoyodon]

Stories

𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Words: 3.1k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: language, Tattoos (?)

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU FUNKY LITTLE VOLLEYBALL MAN HERES YOUR GIFT BOKUTO STANS!! THIS IS MY LONGEST WORK YET AND I TRIED TO DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT WITH MY STYLE OF WRITING!! this is a lot more story based than dialogue based so enjoy!

After having the privilege of being with Bokuto for so long, there are many stories you have to share. Not a day went by that felt dull. There was always an adventure or antics for the two of you to be up to no matter the time, weather or place. 

Here's some of the stories that you can recall like they were yesterday.

-

Seven years ago when you agreed to assist the boys volleyball team as a temporary manager, the day you met Bokuto. This is a story you enjoy to tell, not once failing to perk up when a friend or relative asks how the pair of you met, eager to share what, to you at least, feels like the love story of the century.

When you saw him for the first time, a smile on his lips as if it was made to be there, chatting loudly amongst his less vocal friends, throwing his hands in the air and jumping around to emphasize points in his story was like breathing for the first time. He was so animated, speaking his mind without a thought weighing him down. It was a skill he had mastered, that you hadn't yet. When he noticed your presence awkwardly standing in the doorway of the gym, he decided then to greet you for the first time. Which, in time, he realized was the single most important and life changing decision he ever made.

You became friends within the first day, exchanging numbers as practice ended before waving goodbye to Bokuto, who stood in place, watching you walk away. Seconds after you turned the block and were no longer in view, a buzz rang from your pocket, and on your phone sat a notification from the number just recited back to you.

The night was spent texting back and forth until your eyes got heavy, and only when you closed your eyes, resting your head on the pillow beneath you did you realize just how speaking to Bokuto came so easy. For the first time you didn’t hesitate when talking to him as you did everyone else. There was no fear of judgement if you said something wrong, or asked something silly. It felt like he listened to you and wanted your opinions and commentary, just as you wanted his.

Late night texts turned into calls that lasted until the next morning, small waves in the hallway became lunch dates and study sessions in the library, and the lone walk you took home every night after practice became a nightly adventure as Bokuto insisted he would come along, despite his home being in the complete opposite direction.

-

The months after your friendship bloomed, when he finally realized his feelings for you. (-Or, rather, Akaashi did.) Which is also one of the fondest memories you have.

It was the first day since you met him that he was nervous.

 Akaashi wasn’t blind, but he was aware how blind his best friend could be to his own emotions. The way Bokuto’s eyes softened when you spoke, or how Bokuto would smile more with his eyes when he was talking to you, but still you offered the biggest grin to urge you to continue to speak, or even how he’d cut people off who interrupted you when you spoke, loudly declaring that you had something important to say and was talking before being “rudely” interrupted, even if you weren't saying anything even relatively significant at the time. 

He could understand just how head over heels his best friend was, despite his best friend being completely oblivious to it himself.

The day Akaashi asked Bokuto if he liked you is the day Bokuto’s entire world shifted. Now that he was aware of his own feelings he felt as if everything would change. How would he ever face you? You probably didn't even like him back. Could the two of you ever be friends again if he couldn't get over his crush on you? A million thoughts raced through his mind at once, and the far away, almost anxious look on his face caused Akaashi to blurt out the obvious solution to the issue at hand. 

“Why don't you just tell her and see what she says?”

So he did. The same day.

He told his coach quickly before practice that he'd be a little late then sprinted to the nearest convenience store. He hadn’t a clue how to confess or what girls in general liked, so he went off of the things he'd seen on T.V.

He bought a large bouquet of flowers, chocolates and some of your favorite snacks, paying quickly before stuffing everything in his duffel bag. He ran back to school, tossing his bag in his assigned gym locker before getting to practice. He didn't wave at you, nor did he shoot you a glance, and the entire practice he was off his game, hitting shots out of bounds or bouncing directly off the blocks and into his court, however none of that resinated enough with his mind to pull him into his “emo mode.”

After practice was over he ran to the locker rooms to change, being interrogated promptly by the rest of his team on his odd behavior. Their gripes and concerns landed on deaf ears as Bokuto got dressed, grabbed his bag and ran from the room, greeting you in your usual spot outside by the gym doors. Sweat started to bead along his forehead, rolling down his red cheeks. Raising a curious brow, you ask him if he's okay before he bows quickly, apologizing loudly before unzipping his duffel bag, revealing what used to be a full bouquet of roses, but has now been reduced to stems with loosely hanging petals littering the greenery, and a couple squished snacks. 

He pushes the ruined bouquet into your chest, yelling in a higher pitch than his usual tone that he’d like to take you out on a date, slowly he looks up, and just then realizes just how tattered the roses were. He quickly retracts his hands, putting the stems behind his back and his shoulders slump. Silence ensues for seconds, which felt like hours to the boy, before your laughter rings loudly upon his ears. It wasn’t in a mocking tone, but pure joy. Slowly the flustered boy giggles too, before the pair of you are sitting, laughing with tears brimming the corners of your eyes on the concrete walkway into the dimly lit gym.

After the laughter died down, the happiest “I’d love to.” left your lips.

-

The night he met your parents, which is still your parents favorite story to retell seven years after that night.

Bokuto was nervous, yet again. Since your relationship officially began and the pair of you put a label on yourselves, he had become a bit more accustomed to this feeling of nervousness. He felt like he could lose you, and it scared him. So the day you brought up meeting your parents it struck such an intense feeling of fear in him you had to physically jostle him out of his thoughts.

It took a long time and a lot of convincing but he agreed. The Friday night of the dinner arrived and Bokuto showed up at your house an hour early. As you opened the door, still adorned in pajamas, hair only half way done. He stood with a bouquet of flowers, this time, untarnished. 

His hair was done nicely, dressed in a button up shirt, half of it tucked in and the other side hanging out and a belt with nice jeans. You stared up at him, eyes wide, partially because you didn't expect him so early, before walking onto the porch with him and closing the door behind you. He stuttered out apology after apology, saying how Akaashi told him he should arrive a little early to make it seem like he respected your parents time, and to prove to them he REALLY respected their time he showed up an hour before dinner. 

Giggles left your lips as you fixed his shirt, adjusting his collar and gently wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of your sleeve. You spent a couple minutes talking him down until he was relatively more relaxed before inviting him in. Instead of berating him like he thought they would, your parents laughed it off when they heard his explanation.

 His flowers were put in a vase and your father sat to speak with him over various things. You left the room with a kiss on your fathers and Bokuto's cheek, heading up to your room to finish getting ready while your mother busied herself in the kitchen.

Thirty minutes later you came back down to the sound of raised male voices from the room you had left the two men previously. There your father and Bokuto sat, talking animatedly about sports. A friendly argument had broken out, both yelling out their opinions to each other with lighthearted smiles on their faces. 

You stood, watching them for a moment, admiring the fact that it took a mere thirty minutes before Bokuto had already made friends with your father. 

As dinner was served the four of you made your way into the kitchen, sitting down at the table next to your boyfriend, who was less tense, but still somewhat on edge as he had yet to properly speak with your mother. The dinner went smoothly, your father and boyfriend cracking jokes and playful jabs at each other, and your mother finally getting in a good conversation with Bokuto.

The night was coming to a close, plates empty as the four of you just chatted idly. Your hand was resting in Bo’s beneath the table, rubbing a soothing thumb over the back of his hand whenever he tensed up at a question or topic. Before your father decided it was time to reel it in for the night, he asked Bokuto one final question.

Your father asked Bokuto's intentions with you, the playful glint in his eye disappearing. The look he was giving the boy made him want to disappear. Eyes wide, mouth now suddenly dry despite the multiple glasses of water he had throughout the night, he stuttered. 

“Uh-I-i um- well I love her! I mean- no I don’t-shit-oh god- excuse my language- I do love you is that too soon? By the look in your eyes it looks like you're going to say it's too soon and if it's too soon I take it back!” words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even really comprehend what he was saying, your parents sat back stunned and you sat there mouth agape, still holding his now sweaty hand.

 Your parents excused themselves awkwardly after a moment, stifling laughter as they made their way upstairs, and the two of you sat in silence, as Bokuto apologized quietly you cupped his cheeks, pressing an ever so gentle kiss to his lips

This, as well, was another first for the night.

His entire body was ridgid, before melting into the feeling of your lips against his slightly chapped ones. As you pulled away, Bokuto hesitated before leaning in once more, pressing a quick, simple peck on your lips, then retreated as well, noses just barely brushing against each other.

That was the only response he needed.

-

The night the both of you had a little too much to drink, another favorite of the two of you.

The both had downed just enough beer to get tipsy, having celebrated Bokuto's 21st birthday the night before, and still having some alcohol your friends so gracefully left over for you both, you decided to not let it go to waste and chugged down a couple bottles. 

Drunken words and kisses were exchanged in the living room of your shared apartment, giggles and hiccups echoing through the home. Bokuto, whose head was resting on the couches arm, perked up, looking at you, whose body tucked away between his slumped over form and the cushions on the couch. 

‘Y’know...I want...a tattoo…” he muttered, returning his focus back to the ceiling which for some reason had him entranced. A laugh shook your body, causing him to giggle as well. shrugging , you asked him why he wouldn’t get one, to which he responded, eyes wide, with “I...I dunno…” before jolting up and running, or more stumbling, to your shared room to grab his phone and wallet.

 “Lets go now! Now let's go!” he yells, bouncing up and down excitedly. Seeing no problem with it in your intoxicated state, you agree, pulling on shoes while Bokuto called an uber, then driving, at 9pm on a Saturday, to a parlor. As you arrived, Bo hesitated at the door, turning to you with a pout. “Wait..” he grumbled, hunched over in thought. “if i get one you have to get one as well!” 

And that's how he convinced you two to get matching tattoos, the first letter of your name etched into the side of his ribs, and a big “K” etched onto yours.

The morning after, the killer headache and soreness from your ribs woke you. Barely remembering what happened, you stumbled to the bathroom, waking Bokuto up in the process, and pulled your shirt up in the mirror. It didn't even surprise you. A breathy laugh left your lips as Bo entered the bathroom as well, lifting his shirt off to see what his looked like. The biggest grin stretched across his face, sprinting back to the bedroom to get his phone, promptly taking pictures of your tattoos and sending them to Akaashi.

-

As the years progressed, and Bokuto had his rise to fame as a professional athlete, stories like these dwindled. He had a job now that required him to be away more than not, and loneliness creeped in every once in a while, despite Bokuto’s determination to call and text you every day before bed.

 Offhandedly, the week he was home, you mentioned that its weird feeling for him on his side of the bed and it being empty and cold. That same day, maybe an hour later, Bokuto left. Then, two hour later, he returned home with a small Shiba Inu puppy. 

“I didn’t know which one to get...but I saw you liked a meme with this dog in it on instagram...so I got him…” 

And so, without even questioning his antics, the two of you named him Taro, and spent the next week with your new addition to the family to get him accustomed to living there. 

-

Now, seven years have passed, and here you lay, the morning of your anniversary, Taro's large sleeping form warming the bed next to you, while your boyfriend worked hard in a training camp in America so he could obtain his dream of being recognized as one of the most powerful players in the Japanese league.

 The ceiling seemed especially appealing as you recounted the last seven years, a faint smile on your face. Even though Bokuto wasn't able to be here today, he sent you a short: “I love you, relax for me today, happy anniversary!” text, presumably as soon as he woke up, which was enough for you.

You sat up, bare feet hitting the cold floorboards of the apartment the two of you have, more recently, began to pack up as to move into a new house. Your first house, together. 

Standing up, you shook your head, rubbing your eyes and made your way to the bathroom. There you took a long shower, taking more time than usual to cool yourself down. Afterwards, breakfast was made and served for yourself and Taro, and the two of you laid comfortably snuggled up on the couch for more than half the day.

 As 3pm rolled around there was a soft pounding at the door down the hall, Taro got up quickly, trotting to the door and waited patiently for you to open it, standing alert in case it was an unwelcome guest. 

You unlock the door quickly, not expecting anyone to show up today, and as the door swings open you notice a line up of the MSBY boys you’ve come to love, all standing at the opposite end of the hallway from you, facing you as you open the door, each holding a couple roses, some holding stuffed animals and others holding boxes of your favorite snacks, adorning nice button ups and jeans, all with somewhat tired expressions (presumably from being jet lagged), but big smiles. (excluding Sakusa)

As you look around, taken aback, but an excited look amongst your features, you finally notice Bo, standing at the end of the line. He smiles widely and rushes in to hug you, spinning you around excitedly before laying the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I know you weren’t expecting me home, but I may have lied just a bit about when the camp would end...I couldn't miss our anniversary.” he chuckles. Too shocked to speak, he gently grabs your hands, drinking you down one last time before he takes one hand off of yours, moving to his back pocket. “So...I wanted to keep this a surprise...mostly because I felt like seeing you shocked like this would be really cute- but also because It’d make doing this..” He mutters, slowly kneeling down on one knee in front of you. “A little bit more romantic.” 

That was your breaking point. Sobs fall freely down your cheeks as you watch him kneel in front of you, the most genuine, loving smile on his lips. The one that never changed or altered even after all these years. There he knelt, rambling on about how much he loved you. How he was so happy he could spend the last seven years with you, and that calling you his wife would be the greatest privilege you could grant him. The man you loved the most, the man that single handedly changed your future the day you met him, wanted you, and only you, for the rest of your lives. 

You said yes, of course.

And as he slid the gorgeous diamond onto your finger, he pulled you in for the tightest hug. Soft sobs leaving both of you as he held you. And seconds later, the rest of the MSBY boys tackled the two of you in a hug as well, all either sobbing (Hinata and Atsumu) or somewhat teary eyed but would always deny it when this story would, ultimately be retold (Sakusa).

Out of all the stories you reminisced upon today, you just knew that this one would be your favorite.

[haiyuta]

Stay With Us Call Service || Felix

Summary: A lonely night leads you to a phone sex operator site where you call for Felix

word count: 1.9k || Genre: phone operator Felix! smut, fingering, Felixs deep voice ya know

A/n; not my best work but enjoy!!!! Limited editing I probs could have made this soooo much more smutty I SORRY please just enjoy this crappy smut. I had to release this early cause I’m super busy this weekend!!! (IM A BIG THOT FOR FELIX I SORRY) - Admin Hime 

Do you remember those phone sex ads that appear on your tv in the middle of the night? Erotic music would play as an attractive woman on the phone pops up. Promising for a small fee you can talk to said attractive women they mean with "talking" it was basically phone sex.

Those always confused you thinking of who would pay just to talk to someone? The thought of who would actually pay to talk to these women. Oh, how your old self would be laughing now.

After going on an illegal streaming website watching a few shows you couldn't fine. In the corner of your eye, you saw an ad for phone sex with male and female operators. At first, you ignored it but after a while curiosity got the best of you and you clicked on the site.

A site that wasn't to eye-pleasing came up with the number and showing a few voice samples of there operators they had.

With lots of inner debate you self shame you had a prepaid credit card loaded with 100 dollars on it in shame as you looked at the site once again. You double checked the number letting out a breath as you clicked the call button. Your stomach bubbled with anticipation as a robotic voice spoke up.

"Welcome to Stay With Us Call Service" the voice spoke "Press 1 for female operators or 2 for male operators," you bite your lip pressing the number 2 on the phone.

You clutched the card as the robotic voice spoke up. "Great choice you'll hear some options we have and pick the one you want to connect to," you let out a breath in a shaky voice. "And as a reminder, the calls are 0.99 a minute will you like to continue," the voice spoke. You rolled your eyes at the price. 

The male voice made you straighten your spine. Press 1 for Chan. And then a voice spoke up "Hello my love I'm Chan come talk to me," an Australian accent filled your ears. Your finger almost pressed 1 for him but you paused wanting to see all your options.

Going through all the operators you noted Chan had an amazing voice, Woojin had a deep comforting voice. Minho’s one made you lightly laugh and Changbin had this lustful voice about him. They all had there own pretty lines of saying for you to choose. Their words were so nice and soft others lustful and it made your stomach turn with want.

"Good day I'm Felix I would love to talk to you darling," a low accented voice filled the phone and before you could hear the rest of them you picked his number in an eager manner. Something about the way he spoke made your insides turn with want. 

"Please wait and we'll see if Felix is available," the robotic voice spoke. You let out a breath waiting and slightly hoping he was available.

"Felix is now available we'll connect you as soon as possible enjoy," the robotic voice said. Waiting music filled the phone as you placed it against your ear waiting for the phone to connect.

"Hello my darling," his voice rang in your ears. You straighten your spine hearing the male voice through the phone.

"Um hi," you mumbled quickly. Your face heating up at what you were doing you put your hand over your face in embarrassment.

"Thank you for choosing me," he hummed over the phone. He sounded young around your age you assumed his accent was notably Australian like Chans.

"Your welcome," you said quickly mentally kicking yourself at your lame response.

"How are you," he asked smoothly. You leaned on the bed making yourself more comfortable.

"I'm fine just stressed a little," you responded your fingers tapping in a nervous manner.

"Aw, why is my darling stressed," he asked in a worried tone. Your heart throbbed at his tone he was s good phone operator, he even sounded so real like he cared.

"College is tough and work is even harder," you huffed in annoyance. In reality, you were super stressed and admitting it to him made you feel a little better. 

"I feel that," Felix hummed at you. You closed your eyes "I hope I can make you less stressed tonight," his deep voice lulled out.

"So what's your name," He asked kindly. 

"My name it's Y/n," you blushed at realizing you were really doing this.

Felix gave a small chuckle through the phone "that's a cute name," he replied. The compliment making your insides turn with want.

"Okay Y/n I want you to lay down and relax," he voice rang into your ear. You pressed your phone closer to your ear as he lead you. "You can trust me I can make you feel amazing," he spoke.

Shifting your body you pressed your body against the bed covering your body with a blanket. "Aw, you sound so comfortable wish I could be there," He dotted on you. You wish he was here as well touching you guiding you.

On the phone, you could hear a rustle of clothing on his side and they want to believe he actually was going to touch himself excited you.

"Now darling I want you to explore your body okay," he hummed. "You can be as vocal as you want with me okay," his deep voice lead you.

"Yes Felix," you said shakily out. Laying the finger against your ear you let your fingers roam around your body feeling your warm skin under your clothing.

"I bet you feel so soft," his voice deepen which made you clench your legs together at his tone. "Running your fingers across your soft breast and your tummy," the innocent words making you let out a low moan.

"I wish I could touch you," he groaned deeply. Your mind wandered over the fact of what he looked like. He sounds so amazing your mind quickly made up what you imagined he had. Soft hair, a deep voice, and a bright smile.

"Make sure to give attention to your breast" he leads out. You were already addicted to the way he spoke you let out a breathy whine as your fingers ran over your breast. Lightly rubbing squishing and playing with them.

"Are they soft I can just imagine them," he asked his tone husky with want.

"They're so soft," you moaned back feeling your body heat up at the teasing.

"I bet they are," he said "Your nipples make sure they're nice and hard," he spoke so lewd it made your back arch with want. You wanted Felix this stranger his voice doing things to you that no one else has before. It was so deep and seductive.

Your fingers ran over your nipples making sure to firm them up with teasing them. You let out a shaky moan at the contact. "They're so hard," you moaned out on the phone shutting your eyes letting your imagination run wild.

On the other side of the phone, you heard a belt lightly moving as it was coming off. "Your moans are making me so hard," Felix groaned. Your heart swooned knowing you could do this to Felix.

"Are you touching yourself," you asked lightly so eager to hear him.

"Just lightly palming myself to your moans," he chuckled on the other side. You imagined your dream guy on the other side his pants lowers his briefs tight as he lightly teased himself through his briefs.

"Touch yourself," he said. You did as you were told moving past your night shorts and dipping in. "Not directly just lightly play with yourself," he ordered.

"What if I don't what if I just finger myself," your confidence grew at him.

"Cheeky are we," he responded "If I was there you would do anything I wanted," he said you could almost hear him smirking through his words.

"I would do anything for you," you moaned out as you touched yourself. Your finger lightly playing with your silt you could feel how wet you were already.

"How wet are you," his deep accent asked you.

"I'm soaking," you moaned out feeling your fingers press into yourself feeling how damp you were.

"Fuck," his gritted out which made your body heat up even more.  You could hear the shuffle of clothing on his side.

"Are you touching yourself," you asked curiously just imagining" Felix touching himself wrapping his fist around himself pumping himself.

"Yes I'm so hard," he groaned in the phone.

"That's hot," you spoke before you could realize you said that. Heat rose to your cheek as your fingers didn't let up as you kept teasing yourself.

"I wish you could see maybe watch me," he let out a throaty groan. "Darling dip those pretty fingers inside yourself," he moaned out.

You did as you were told a mewy moan let out as you touched yourself "I'm so wet," you moaned feeling your wetness. You spread your legs apart for a better angle the sound of his voice filled arousal and you let your imagination run wild.

"Make sure you rub your clit for me," Felix chuckled you could hear him jerking off the soft sound of squishing against his hand made your body buzz with want.

"Are you close darling," his voice sounded like it deepened his sensual tone made you buzz with want.

"I am," you panted as your fingers pushed you closer to your peak.

"Mmmh you sound amazing so whiny and moany for me," he chuckled. He panted slightly "I'm going to come all over my hand," he let out a strained moan.

Your mind buzzed imagining Felix coming his hips erratic as strings of white spilled into his hand.

You let out a high pitched moan feeling waves of hot pleasure course through your veins. "Ugh," you moaned feeling your finger as they lead you through your orgasm.

"That sound," Felix moaned hearing a low groan spill out of him. "Fucking hell," he cursed out. The mix of panting filled the phone between both of you. Your eyes were hazy with your post-orgasm glory.

"Fuck I came so much," Felix laughed a little at that. "I haven't came like that in a while," he said.

You blushed at his words. "Thank you," you lightly said biting your lip as you came down from cloud 9.

"No thank you, darling," he said.

You shivered at the feeling of the cold air hit your face as you carried your coffee in one hand ready to warm yourself up. It's been two months since you did the phone sex thing and you were slightly eager to do it again.

But life got in the way and you couldn't call Felix again. Which did make you sad but it was just his job.

Before you knew it you felt someone bump into you. You looked up to see your coffee was now mashed and slightly spilled on the both of you.

"I'm so sorry," you said shocked at you not paying attention.

"It's okay," you heard a familiar chuckle making you snap your head up. Gazing up your eyes widen the accent the deep voice. Seeing a male in front of you he had a side smile on his face his hair was a silky orangy blond color with beautiful freckles across his nose.

"Felix," you said drinking in all his features shocked that he was in front of you.

"Y/n," his eyes widen at your name. You both stared at one another in shock.

"Hey," you mumbled lightly waving at him as he looked at you. You noted his eyes were beautiful his skin was gorgeous and his voice sounded better in person.

"Hey," he replied back as you both stood face to face. Your heart thudded against your chest at the realization he was in front of you.

[taka-oneokrock]

Meet Taka!

GENERAL INFORMATION.      

Name Takahiro Moriuchi

Alias Taka and Takahiro Morita

Birthday April 17, 1988

Height 165cm (5'5”)

Place of Birth Tokyo (Japan)

Location Tokyo but has a house in LA too.

Sexual Orientation Bi

*Relationship Status Main Verse Married [4th June 2017] (Jun)

Relationship Status Verse 2: Single

Children Main Verse Joruri

Father Shinichi Moriuchi

Mother Masako Morita

Siblings Tomohiro and Hiroki

Zodiac Aries / Dragon

Nationality Japanese

Occupations Singer, lyricist, composer

Band ONE OK ROCK (Vocals)

Former bands Chivalry of Music (2004), NEWS (2003)

*Currently people can only interact with him in the second verse.

BIOGRAPHY.

If someone asked me to describe Taka with a few words the ones that pop up in my mind are a free spirit with a burning passion for music, striving to see the whole world without standing still. He was born and raised in Tokyo as the eldest son of two well-known musicians, feeling his heart yearn from music from a very young age. He didn’t have the easiest childhood with the eyes of the media being on him and learning to deal with his always busy parents. Taka often felt lonely and so did his two younger brothers which helped them bond.

When he became a teen he joined Johnny’s becoming a part of News. But training to become an idol was tough for him even though he loved standing on stage and singing his heart out. School became harder and harder and at the same time he discovered that maybe being an idol wasn’t his thing. A so called scandal and his rebellious side taking over brought him to leaving News and dropping out of school. The relationship with his dad was on its low since he was disappointed in his son. He kicked him out of the house around the time he and Taka’s mom decided to get a divorce.

His parent’s separation got pretty ugly and having the media’s attention on how he was dealing with it all resulted in the teen having a ‘fuck you’-attitude towards everything. His mom arranged for him to leave his grandmother for the time being since the young Taka couldn’t afford to live on its own. He had a part-time job at a restaurant and joined a band more determined than ever to make the world hear his voice. But since this band did mostly covers and he struggled to make a living for himself he became more shy and withdrawn, always looking on his feet while singing.

Then something unexpected happened as Toru, the leader of his current band, heard him sing during one of their concerts. He came straight up to Taka and asked him to join his band which ended with him declining the offer. The young male simply couldn’t believe the others words, but Toru didn’t give up and he pretty much stalked him for a few days. He even followed Taka to his job in the restaurant, simply sitting there and watching him till he finally agreed to come to the bands next rehearsal. And since Taka was pretty moody back then their first meeting wasn’t ideal, but there still was a certain click between the guys and he joined ONE OK ROCK!

Their friendship kept growing and with all the encouragement they gave each other they slowly starting to make a name for themselves. There were ups and downs on their road with fearing for the surviving of the band after the scandal with Alex. But since the remaining four of them all shared the same passion and the same dream their rise to the top couldn’t be stopped. And as they grew as people they grew as musicians with their sound always changing. In the beginning of their career their songs had a different rang to them since Taka and the others still kind of rebelled against the world. But the songs always had a meaning to them and more and more they tried to be the voice for people that couldn’t speak up.

Taka was always a whirlwind, always up to no good and never afraid of taking a risk. He is a fighter even though he has a soft side to him, the worries he has bringing him down, but so far he always managed to stand up again. The male has a deep bond with their fans and he never turns a fan down whenever they ask to take a pic with him or sign their merch. He sees his bandmates as his second family and all of them appreciate the fans because without them they wouldn’t be able to live their dream. Taka has a positive outlook on live, but from time to time he can be moody and people might think he isn’t easy to get along with.

Also he loves to show his affection by teasing and bullying people, what especially his bandmate Tomoya experienced firsthand. Taka is impulsive and temperamental and always up for a new challenge. The only thing he really hates is liars and people that use people. But despite his moods now and then he is an open-minded young man that makes friends easily. And once he is friends with someone he would do everything for them and they would do everything for him in return. He’s always willing to support those who have a dream as well. And since his music was always influenced by foreign bands he keeps looking for people to work with outside of Japan.

Taka loves traveling around the world with the band while setting new goals for them as they go. He feels their journey isn’t over yet and the best part has yet to come. He has closed the door to his past, not wanting to look back, but having learned from his past mistakes. He is still close with his mom and grandma while being supportive of his two younger brothers. Taka knows he’s far from being perfect, but he will always do his past to have a positive impact on the world. He will always be a child at heart that isn’t afraid to show his true colour while looking curiously at the world.

The passion for music is still burning inside of him and he will always be happy while standing on stage and conveying his feelings to his fans through a song. He will never stop chasing a dream and now that he has found the love of his life and starting a family with him there are more and more dreams to follow for him. Life is an adventure and tsundere Taka will always take it straight on.

Getting to know him will be full of surprise so you better be ready for it.

Likes: Drinking, fooling around, making music, listening to music, hanging out with friends, playing games, shopping, surfing, going for a run and drawing.

Hates: Things to be discovered.

DISCLAIMER.  

[[ Disc: This blog is 18+ and an RP blog. I claim no affiliation with Taka nor with One Ok Rock. All pictures contained herein are not mine.| このブログはただのロールプレーブログです。実在のTakaではありません。ご理解ありがとうございます。]]